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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 month

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Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Content warnings for this chapter: implied violence, threats, implied sa references

@justalunaticfangirl

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55445686/chapters/140788939

Chapter 3 - Nina

“So just to be clear,” said Nina, leaning back in her chair and studying Kaz across the desk, “All you want us to do is act like students? What the hell kind of job is this?”

Nina had been in Ketterdam for five months, and she’d considered strangling Kaz Brekker with her bare hands about three times in each of them. And considering that she could just stop his heart if she wanted to, it was a particular statement to just how infuriating he was that she would be willing to put in the effort of strangling him. She’d told him that once, and he took it as a compliment.

“You heard me,” he picked up one of the forged papers Nina and Inej had brought in with them, that were now sitting on his desk, “Use your own names, it’s only more suspicious if you get caught not answering to a fake and no-one there should recognise you anyway,”

“You might have told us that before Specht drew the papers up,” Inej sighed, “Will he be able to change them?”

“Should be,” Kaz tapped the corner of the page in his hand against the desk, and Nina caught her gaze flicking to his black leather gloves, “All you need to do is act like you belong and try to get close to the mark,”

The mark. Nina had thought she spoke Kerch when she landed in this Saintsforsaken city, but talking to Kaz and the rest of the Barrel may as well have been learning a brand new dialect.

“For how long?”

“As long as proves necessary,”

Nina really was going to strangle this boy. She sighed.

“You’ll have to subsidise my income,”

“You’ll get paid when they job’s done,”

“That’s not good enough,” she said smoothly, ignoring the glance Inej shot her, “You can’t put me out of work for an indeterminate amount of time and not expect me to need the money for it,”

Nina was scraping by as it was. Her salary from the White Rose wasn’t bad, though it could be better, but her commission from the Tailoring was appallingly low and any spare cash she managed to strap together quickly drained away in the endeavours she was refusing to believe she’d reached a dead end in. Kaz nodded.

“We’ll discuss it,”

Inej leaned forwards to collect one of the papers, saying something to Kaz. Nina couldn’t help but wonder why the girl had been put on this job - this wasn’t her specialty, far as Nina could tell, and it didn’t seem to make any difference to the job whether there were one or two of them working on it. Mind you, Nina was glad to know she’d have company and Inej was about the best company she could have hoped for.

“It’s listed in your application that you’ll require a tutor for written Kerch,” Kaz was telling her, “But I can pull that if you feel you don’t need it,”

Inej glanced at Nina. She spoke Kerch perfectly well, though Nina knew she’d learnt most of it at the Menagerie and there were occasional gaps in her knowledge even of words she would use every day at home - as well a collection of words she only knew in Kerch, that no classroom ever would have taught her - but she was still learning to read the language. Nina had been trying to help her, but she wasn’t convinced that her calling was as a teacher and sometimes wondered if she was actually hindering her.

“Up to you,” said Nina, in Ravkan, “If you think-”

“Excuse me,” Kaz interrupted in cool Kerch, tapping the table, “Perhaps we can keep this discussion in a language we all understand?”

“Perhaps you could bother to learn another language,” Nina muttered in Ravkan, winking at Inej when she saw her smile.

Making Inej smile felt like winning something; she didn’t seem to have reason to smile nearly often enough. Kaz finished giving them the bare bones of the plan, which was really no more information than they already had or could have guessed at, and Nina and Inej left his office with copies of their enrolment papers in hand.

“Will Feliks really be happy to let you go for an indeterminate time?” asked Inej, as they walked downstairs together.

Not a chance. But he wouldn’t have much of a say in it.

“I don’t think ‘happy’ would be the right word,” she sighed, “but it’s Haskell who has the last word on wherever I go, and Kaz’s word is an extension of his. Feliks is just my employer, he’s not the one I’m in debt to,”

Inej’s shoulders squared, perhaps uncomfortably, and Nina cursed herself for not biting her tongue a sentence sooner. But the moment passed quickly, and they continued walking together in easy comfort. Nina checked the time - eight bells. She’d have to get back. Inej walked her to the door of the Slat, and as they reached the front Nina briefly squeezed her fingers before she made to leave.

“Sleep,” she told her.

Inej smiled.

“I will if you will,”

Nina shivered as she stepped into the evening air; even her jumper was not enough to keep the cold away. Ketterdam she thought dismissively, rubbing a hand up and down one of her arms. She sighed. This job was making her nervous - it sounded suspiciously easy. What was Kaz after? And what was he getting them into this time?

“Hey gorgeous,”

Nina looked up to see Jesper crossing towards her, and gave him a smile.

“Hey. How’s the arm?”

She nodded vaguely at the spot a little above Jepser’s elbow, where she’d fixed a bullet graze for him not too long ago. Seemingly unconsciously, his hand found the point on his sleeve that the freshly closed skin was hiding beneath and his fingers ran along it.

“Good as new,” he smiled.

“Well,” Nina winked, “I am good,”

Jesper smiled. He was wearing a shockingly dull outfit for him - the only splash of colour, the shimmer of the gems in his mismatched gold and silver rings - and he wasn’t wearing his gun belt. It only took a brief glance to realise he was still carrying his prized revolvers, Nina would probably have been concerned for his health if he wasn’t, but they were hidden beneath his jacket and she wondered why.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, before she could get her own questions in.

Nina avoided the Slat and the Crow Club whenever she could; this hellhole was a means to an end and she didn’t need to sink any lower into it than she already had.

“Talking to Kaz about a job. Where’ve you been?”

“Hell,” he said drily, “But as much as I’d love to chat, I have a shift to get to and I want to get changed before it starts,”

“Don’t let me keep you,” she replied, hopping down the last few steps, “I’ll see you soon,”

It wasn’t a particularly short walk back to the White Rose. Nina headed North as she left the Slat, following the canals as she moved from East Stave onto West. Here the world changed. The streets were alive, because they were alive at almost every hour, with tourists and locals alike dressed in every colour under the sun, their faces hidden beneath masks of the Komedie Brute. It was said - and Nina more than believed it - that the normality of the masks gave people confidence like nothing else. They were themselves, once they were hiding. People would come to West Stave looking for oblivion, sometimes even just to watch the crowds more than sample any of the entertainment for themselves. Or at least that’s what plenty of them liked to claim, anyway. Nina was less convinced by that.

She slipped along the edge of a crowd, trying to dodge between patrons clamouring for attention or downing the drink that was finally going to tip them over into too many. Someone dressed as the Scarab Queen dropped an empty bottle and giggled when it shattered at their feet, whilst Nina tried to pick her way through the broken glass and keep moving. On her way back yesterday, she’d found her arm grabbed by a masked stranger and had to panickedly plunge his heartbeat and knock him out before she hurried onwards, but it seemed she would be luckier today as Goedmed bridge came into view ahead and Nina knew she was almost back. She had to catch herself from thinking almost home. It was an easy habit to slip into, when referring to the place you slept every night. But Nina was several long weeks of travelling away from home, and she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to go back.

A street performer was shouting something to a gathering crowd, drawing attention with close-up magic tricks before he made some grand announcement and splayed his hands towards an explosion of glitter. When the purple monstrosity had cleared enough that only a shimmer was left in the air, the crowd gasped and applauded at the apparently magical appearance of an acrobat dangling over the canal. A Suli girl, younger than Nina, hanging upside down from a collection of wires with her slender body barely covered by more purple glitter and alarmingly thin scraps of fake silk, her extended arm revealing the swirling tattoo of the Willow Switch. Nina shuddered, and kept walking.

The White Rose almost looked more like one of the grand townhouses than it did a brothel; tall and slender, with its own dock, a pale facade, and a magnificent collection of white-petaled roses growing up the walls. The smell of the flowers was cloying, hanging over everything and refusing to let go. Nina may very well be stuck smelling of them for the rest of her life, even if she did ever get out of this town.

“My house girls are as sweet as my roses,” Feliks had told her when she first moved in, clapping his hand over her shoulder uncomfortably.

It had been clear even then that it was a line he liked to feed, but Nina had also since learnt that the roses he used - according to Kaz, the only ones that were strong enough to survive year-round in the hardy weather of Ketterdam - were naturally scentless. Every flower was perfumed by hand, on constant rotation, by the boys and girls in white uniforms who tended to food and drink or anything else clients might need beyond what they had really come for. Some of them were indentured; Nina didn’t know how many, but considering the number of the house girls who were thus she guessed it was a good number. Then again, if that was the case then why did Feliks just have them perfuming roses? His facade was thin enough for her to feel certain he’d be making proper money off the kids if he could. It was part of Nina’s job to Tailor them, paling their skin and turning their hair and irises a vague white - in Feliks’ own words, so that all the decor matched. She slipped them cash, if she could spare it, whilst they were in with her, same with the occasional house girl who needed Healing. It didn’t happen often, but it happened.

But the White Rose was undeniably safer than most, if not all, of the other houses on the Stave - for Nina, at the very least, and as much as it gnawed anxiously in her gut she had to keep herself alive and safe before she started trying to do the same for anyone else - and she had not borne witness to anything like the stories she’d heard of the buildings opposite her and down the street. The girls here were safer, even if they weren’t safe.

She couldn't go through the front door looking like this - messy and out of costume and so on - so she slipped down the side of the building. She actually wasn’t sure if she was supposed to use the front at all; she never had because she never left or returned to the building in the fake kefta she couldn’t enter the lobby without. She’d only seen girls use the front door when clients who’d paid to take them from the building were whisking them away or returning them again, arms often slipped through arms, the girls’ fake giggles and batting lashes somehow fooling them. Maybe they were just willing to be fooled, ready to ignore anything that would crack their illusion. That was what they came for, wasn’t it? A pretty lie. Oblivion.

As she reached the back of the building, the ugly outline of the Menagerie came into view on the other side of the canal; taller than most of the buildings surrounding it, structured like a tiered birdcage. It was the largest and most expensive house on the Stave, shimmering even as darkness began to close its heavy blanket over the city like a forest fire reflected by a mirrorball. How long since Inej left that place - six months? Seven? Maybe a little longer; she had already seemed to trust Kaz Brekker - if trust was really the right word - when she appeared through a window at the Emerald Palace five months ago and convinced Nina not to take the deal Pekka Rollins’ was offering her. She probably owed Inej her life, for that. Or maybe Kaz, but that was the far more disappointing option of the two.

Most of it was obscured by other buildings across the canal but where the lower floor of the Menagerie was almost entirely open, held up the columns that became akin to the bars of the birdcage, Nina could see the blurring edge of a girl lying on a sofa. Someone in the red cape of Mr Crimson approached and she slipped her hand into theirs as she sat up slowly, her neckline slipping off her shoulder. The wind picked up and blew goosebumps down Nina’s neck as she turned quickly away to slip through the back door, her mind foolishly concerned that the girl was going to catch a cold in those scant silks.

“Nina,” began Adrian, as soon as she stepped inside.

“I know,” she breathed, quickly hurrying towards the staff staircase, “I’m a little late, but I was with Brekker. I have half an hour, it’ll be fine,”

“No, it’s not that,” he sounded nervous.

Nina turned back to face him. Adrian was about two years younger than Nina, she reckoned, and before she’d started Tailoring him his wide, dark eyes had made him look akin to a doe. Now they were pale and slightly unnerving, but as someone for whom Tailoring did not come as easily as it did others she thought she’d done a decent job. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his white shirt, threatening to mark the cuffs if he wasn’t careful.

“He scheduled you three more clients, this evening,”

Nina resisted the urge to scream. When had she last slept? Apparently it would have to wait. The rich of Ketterdam having their minds relaxed and their emotions altered took precedence over anything else, and definitely her.

“Fine. Who?”

“That might be the concerning part,” Adrian shuffled, “Two folks from the Zelvar District, one who’s been before, one I didn’t recognise,”

Not much of a problem. And if it was a first visit then maybe it would be more of a consultation about what they wanted than it would be actually altering moods. Maybe it would be marginally less tiring. But Adrian still looked nervous, and his voice had trailed away.

“The third?” she prompted.

Adrian bit his lip.

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cuddlepilefics · 6 months

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Sprained ankle (short)

Fandom: Shinee/SuperM

Sickie: Taemin

Caregivers: Minho & Jongin

No one’s POV.:

How long had they been practicing? Taemin didn’t know, couldn’t possibly remember. Since all their groups had different schedules, him, Baekhyun and Jongin hadn’t been able to practice with the other SuperM members. While Baekhyun was away on solo promotions, Taemin and Jongin tried to catch up to what they had missed. They had recording sessions, squeezed in between their individual schedules and earlier that week, a choreographer had taught them the new dances, well aware that the two could practice by themselves after being shown the choreography. He also gave them a recording, so they could watch and teach themselves whenever they got the opportunity to.

Taemin and Jongin had met up outside their official schedule almost every night to practice the new choreographies. They were the main dancers of their individual groups, so they had a reputation to uphold and if that meant sacrificing their sleep in order to perfect their dancing, so be it. Taemin’s head ached from the lack of sleep and he had seen Jongin down two painkillers earlier too, though the younger didn’t mention what was bothering him. The endless hours of additional dance practice left them both incredibly sore and their groups had already started go worry, though they knew that sometimes this hard work was what it took to achieve their success.

Having completely switched to auto-pilot, Taemin executed the moves from muscle memory, his mind blank. It seemed like he was looking at himself in the large mirror to monitor his dancing but he wasn’t actually aware of what he saw or did. Only an intense pain shooting up his leg and his vision tilting sideways brought Taemin back to focus, though not in time to catch himself. “Shit! Are you okay, hyung?”, Jongin gasped, dropping into a crouch next to his friend. Gritting his teeth as he sat up, Taemin forced out: “Ugh, yeah. Think so.” The younger offered Taemin a hand and pulled him up, only for him to stumble immediately.

“Fuck!”, Taemin hissed, clinging to Jongin’s shoulder for support, “I hurt my ankle. Just realized when I tried to put weight on it.” Suppressing a curse of his own, Jongin helped the older limp over to their bags where he sat down and dropped his aching head back against the wall. While Taemin dried his face and started to unlace his shoe, Jongin offered: “Do you want me to call anyone? Any of your members or your manager?” – “None of the members”, the other groaned, studying the already developing bruise around his ankle, “I hope they’re asleep ‘cause our schedules have been tough. Maybe my manager or one of the company drivers? It’s already starting to swell, so I should probably get it looked at maybe have an x-ray taken.” – “I’ll call your manager”, Jongin nodded sympathetically, “He can take you to the hospital and adjust your schedules depending on the diagnosis.”

While they waited for Taemin’s manager to come and pick him up, Jongin got a bottle of ice cold water from a vending machine and poured it onto his friend’s towel before carefully draping the cold fabric around his ankle, hoping to dull the pain a little. “Thanks”, Taemin panted, “I’ll text you once I know how serious it is. Hope it’s just a sprain.” Jongin hummed in agreement, contemplating whether he should continue practicing on his own or call it a day to avoid injuring himself due to his exhaustion.

When Taemin had left with his manager, Jongin took a bathroom break to make up his mind and assess just how bad his exhaustion was. On his way back to the practice room, he ran into Minho, the older not yet having headed home. Jongin quickly told Minho about the accident and the other advised him not to keep practicing or else he might hurt himself too. Once they parted, Minho called their manager and agreed to meet them at the hospital.

Surprisingly, the waiting area wasn’t as packed as Minho had feared it’d be and he joined their manager, taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. There were no updates yet but they distracted themselves from the wait by discussing the possible changes that could be made to the groups schedule to accommodate Taemin’s recovery. Eventually, Minho looked up to see his dongsaeng hobbling towards them on crutches.

“Just a sprain”, Taemin announced with a tired smile, “What are you doing here, hyung?” – “I ran into Jongin and he told me what happened, so I wanted to see how you’re doing and if you need help”, Minho explained, “If you want, you can stay with me for a couple of days. I can help you out while you’re on crutches.” The younger felt the need to refuse, not wanting to burden his hyung but he was also exhausted to the bone and tired of being alone. It was especially at times of overlapping schedules and physical injuries that his mind questioned why he was doing this to himself and if it was the right path. Maybe he’d go with Minho, if just for the company and comfort he provided.

“’m so glad they gave me something for the pain”, Taemin yawned as they got into the car, “I can still feel it pulsing but my head feels better.” – “What about your head? You didn’t hit it when you fell, did you?”, Minho frowned worriedly. The younger shook his head before resting it on Minho’s shoulder, breathing: “My head was killing me earlier. Probably why I didn’t pay attention and tripped myself in the first place. The headache’s gone now though.” – “You’re unbelievable “, the older sighed, “You should’ve rested before it reached that point, you fool.” A sleepy smile played across Taemin’s face because he could hear the fondness in the other’s voice despite the scolding.

Taemin must have fallen asleep on Minho’s shoulder somewhere along the way because the next thing he knew was his hyung shaking him, encouraging: “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs and I’ll fetch you an icepack for your ankle before you’re going to sleep. Can’t let your exhaustion make you even clumsier and get you into more trouble.”

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #sick #merrywhumpmas #taemin #shinee #superm

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epicstuckyficrecs · 2 years

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Favourite Long Fics

A friend wanted some recommendations for long fics. I figured I might as well share them here ;) sorted by word count!

Heat Wave series by cleo4u2, xantissa (A/B/O AU | 413K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): Captain America and the Winter Soldier meet for the first time in 2015. Now Bucky, after years of torture at Hydra's and more as a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D., is being given the chance to gain his freedom. All he has to do, is complete a mission with a team he can't stand while following the orders of yet another pompous, controlling Alpha. Steve thinks he can get his team through their most difficult mission to date, so long as he can get the smell of the Winter Soldier's heat out of his nose.

Of Broken Dreams and Mended Hearts by Kellyscams (Steampunk AU, Arranged Marriage | 355K | Mature):��When the House of Barnes is left in massive debt after the death of George Barnes, their oldest son and heir, Bucky, is forced to sacrifice his own hopes and dreams by entering an arranged married to Steve Rogers. Steve seems kind enough, has a prominent job in the government, and was even voted Society's Best Catch. But the House Rogers is significantly higher in status than Bucky's family, which means Bucky is marrying up in Society, and marrying up doesn't only come with rewards, it also comes with certain...expectations and losses--some of which Bucky might be willing to do anything to avoid. And those opportunities might come his way. Unless, of course, he actually starts falling in love with his new husband...

Something Wild Calls You Home series by superheroresin (Urban Fanatasy AU, Hybrid Bucky | 331K | Explicit): More than once Steve had to choke down a laugh, and suddenly there was a bond there that went beyond the respect of mutually surviving fifty pounds of unexploded ordinance designed to kill Americans. It was a subtle relationship—Bucky was still a humanoid feline after all—but one that helped make Sakhalin home along with the molten sunrises, the sound of the sea, and the scent of herring before the season’s first snow storm.

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Kellyscams (Modern AU, Sex Worker Bucky, Age Difference | 305K | Explicit): Steve's just moved back to Brooklyn after spending ten years in California trying to make a life for himself as an artist right after high school. Having escaped to the other side of the country following the sudden death of his mother, Steve feels guilty about abruptly leaving all his friends for so long, unfulfilled, scared and nervous about started college at his age, and unbelievably lonely. So when he meets Bucky Barnes, a young sex-worker, at a bar the night before his first day of classes, temptations might be too high to resist.One night paying for sex with the most sinfully gorgeous guy is nothing to brag to the papers about, huh?S'not like he'll ever see him again anyway......Right?

Dishonor On Your Cow series by mandarou (Shrunkyclunks, Post-Avengers, Multiverse Traveling | 279K | Explicit | Still a WIP): “Sergeant Barnes?”“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

There Is No Shortage of Blood by alby_mangroves, Dira Sudis (dsudis) (Post-WS, Bucky Recovering | 246K | Explicit): The long slow recovery of Bucky Barnes after his escape from HYDRA. (And the longer, slower recovery of his sex life.)

If They Haven't Learned Your Name by silentwalrus (Post-WS | 237K | Mature | Warning: Violence): Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.”“That is not standing,” Sam tells him.“You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.” aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

Honeypot series by cleo4u2, xantissa (Canon Divergent | 210K | Explicit Warning: Violence): Preconditions: One Sasha Marozow - internationally renowned assassin for hire, known as the Winter Soldier, ex-Hydra operative freelancing for the last five years; One Steve Rogers, Captain America - recently defrosted national hero and Avenger; One assassination contract; One set-up known in the intelligence community as the “honeytrap”. Expected Result: One Winter Soldier in custody, the name of his employer attained. Actual result: Definitely not as expected.

Collar Full of Chemistry by 2bestfriends (Modern AU, BDSM | 188K | Explicit): Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

Astronomy In Reverse by pansley (Post-WS, Bycku&Peter | 184K | Teen): A year after the Winter Soldier failed his mission in DC, Bucky Barnes is doing his best to stay under the radar from both Hydra and Steve Rogers. His hope for a peaceful day-to-day life in limbo goes awry, however, when he meets Queens’ newest hero; a pure-hearted kid with a death wish and a ridiculous pair of red and blue pajamas. The last thing Steve expects when he finally tracks Bucky down is that, not only has the man been living in Queens all this time, right under his nose, but also that, in the two years since they last saw each other, Bucky somehow acquired a kid.Alternatively: How Peter Parker effectively fucks over Bucky Barnes, and also totally saves him.

Sugar Sweet by ColorCoated (Modern AU, Sugar Daddy | 173K | Explicit): College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Targeting series by queenmab_scherzo (University Football AU | 172K | Explicit): Steve and Bucky end up playing for rival college football teams.

Song of the Rolling Earth series by the1918 (Shrunkyclunks, Post-Endgame, Canon Divergent, Farmer Steve, Daddy kink, Age Difference | 155K | Explicit): The AU Farmer Daddy Steve and Bucky story.

Compatible series by the1918 (A/B/O, Shrunkyclunks | 153K | Explicit): When young nanotech engineer Bucky Barnes finds himself falling head first in love with none other than Steve Rogers, he ends up getting a lot more of the Alpha than he—or science—could ever have imagined possible.

We Made Ourselves series by notoska (Post-WS | 153K | Explicit): Then Bucky licks his lips, tip of his tongue just grazing the sensitive skin of Steve’s ear and Steve moans. Nothing close to the surge of lust behind his ribs, but a tiny, breathy sound all the same. Bucky doesn’t react—he must not have heard. Though a minute later he curls his fingers and extends them again, moving just slow enough for it to be a caress.Just tip your head into his touch. He’ll take the lead and trace the folds of your ear with his tongue until you can’t keep quiet any more. Then he’ll smother your desperate little noises with his mouth, fingers twisting in your hair. Kissing deeply, tongues reaching to declare your filthy intentions. Find his knee with your hand and slide wolfishly up his thigh until you reach the bulge behind his fly. Palm him through his trousers until he’s panting in your mouth, until he’s pressing his forehead to yours, hips bucking, and you can see his dark eyes, glinting in the screen’s flickering light, pleading—Steve jolts back to the present. The credits are rolling and Bucky is reading them as well. The screen blacks and two fluorescent lights buzz to life. Bucky loosens his hand from Steve’s head, welcoming the world back in.

Space Oddity by crinklefries, cyclamental art (cyclamental), nalonzoo (Post-Endgame, Multiverse Traveling, Loki&Thor | 147K | Mature): After the world ends, things happen to Bucky in this specific order: he helps defeat Thanos, he rejects Steve’s attempt to address Feelings, he watches Steve volunteer to put the Infinity Stones back in time, he waits for Steve to come back, he is sad when Steve does not come back, he realizes that everyone thinks Steve disappeared in 2012 (???), he gets taken to space by Carol Danvers (!!!), he meets up with a depressed literal alien Norse God, he and the depressed literal alien Norse God travel through space, he and the depressed literal alien Norse God hit a wormhole and fall into the--Multiverse.What the fuck.This is the story of how Bucky and Thor pick up the pieces of their lives, find their own worth, find their own person, and find their way out of a multiverse of 100 realities stitched together with 100 tropes. There’s love, there’s friendship, there’s an extreme amount of Tesseract fuckery, but most importantly there are sexy vampires. Bon Appetit.

Parallels and Parallels 2 by spoffyumi (Multiverse Traveling |138K | Explicit): At the end of "Captain America: Winter Soldier," Steve fell from the helicarrier into the water. He wakes up, however, in an alternate universe where he and Bucky are dating. // Bucky wakes up from cryo in a parallel universe - in which he works at a coffeeshop and Steve is his favorite customer.

What I Used To Be by thepinupchemist (A/B/O AU | 117K | Explicit | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): When the police uncover a hidden sub-basement in the home of criminal Alexander Pierce and find a tortured omega and his three pups, they bring them to the Stark Omega Clinic, a non-profit dedicated to rehabilitating traumatized omegas.After dark in September 2005, fourteen year old Bucky Barnes vanished. Eleven years and three pups later, he is far from the boy that went missing from a suburban neighborhood outside of Denver.Steve Rogers is an alpha of some means. When he came into money, he decided to use what he had for good and sign up as a candidate to be a support alpha for his close friend Tony's charitable clinic. When he takes on the task of helping reintegrate Bucky and his pups into the world, he doesn't expect to fall so hard.

The Fool in the Mirror by thepinupchemist (A/B/O, Shrunkyclunks | 111K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): The Avengers, SHIELD, and the world at large have underestimated the pain that Steve Rogers is in.The night after a near brush with a suicide attempt, Steve discovers the world of support omegas, and in his desperation for relief from the battlefield of his brain, demands to have one.Enter Bucky Barnes: retired marine, millennial, amputee, brother, son, and support omega. He maybe, just maybe, can help a broken alpha heal in the twenty-first century.

The Night War: 60th Anniversary Edition by praximeter (Zimario) (TFA/WW2, Diary | 109K | Teen): In 1947, Master Sergeant James B. Barnes's surviving field journals were posthumously published as the classic war memoir The Night War. Now a high school history classroom mainstay and required reading at West Point, this highly anticipated 60th Anniversary Edition presents the original, unedited text alongside detailed historical notes that provide important context to the extraordinary wartime heroics of Captain America and the Howling Commandos.

The Ghosts Of Who I Used To Be by Brenda (Post-WS | 107K | Mature): Steve thought once he found Bucky again, the hard part would be over. But the real journey back to each other was only just beginning. They each had a path to take - a path of redemption and self-discovery, a path of self-destruction and revenge. Along the way, they would need to rediscover each other: as family, as friends, and something new. They would also have to learn that this new chance at life wasn't really about starting over; it was about moving on. (Part 2 of Came Back Haunted)

Political Animals by crinklefries, Deisderium (Modern AU, US Politics | 107K | Explicit): Okay, so the real problem is that you shouldn’t fuck your arch-rival, political enemy, and the person you loathe the most in the world where you work. Or like, at least, you shouldn’t keep doing that.But okay, the thing that Descartes or whoever didn’t know was that Steve really tries, but Bucky Barnes has a mouth that should probably constitute an eighth sin or something.Jesus fucking Christ, Sam’s going to kill him.(or—Steve’s best friend is the U.S. Constitution and he can’t seem to stop fucking a hot Republican. They shouldn’t fall in love, but somehow they do. That’s it, that’s the fic.)

Ain't No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar (Post-WS | 107K | Mature): It's six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone.For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don't. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It's very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters.I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU.Steve sits down hard on the steps.

War, Children by Nonymos (Modern AU, Veteran Bucky, Homeless Steve | 106K | Explicit): After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort. Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.

to memory now I can’t recall by Etharei (Canon divergent, Time Travel | 102K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar), pretending to be Bucky Barnes (which is not), and figuring out the very noisy group of soldiers who call themselves the Howling Commandos.

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain (Modern AU, Estranged Childhood Friends | 100K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

Shameless self-rec: like a memory from a dream by Bookbee, Ginny_Potter (Anastasia AU | 93K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): Best friends since childhood, Steve and Bucky couldn’t be more different. Bucky is the sickly heir to the Sokovian throne, while Steve is a mere kitchen boy. Their lives will be forever changed on a cold October night, when HYDRA seizes the power and the Imperial Family disappears from history. After a long and bloody civil war, HYDRA established its power in the country and Steve, former Captain for the losing side, is forced into hiding with a former ally, the Black Widow.But on the thirteenth anniversary of the fall of the Tsar, a rumor spreads in Novi Grad: the Dowager Empress, in her French exile, offers a reward to whoever will find out if one of the Imperial children is still alive. When a mysterious man without a past and bearing an incredible resemblance with Steve’ lost best friend appears out of thin air, looking for a way out of Sokovia, the opportunity is too good to pass…

Scents and Sensibility: The Working Assassin's Guide to Supersoldier Seduction by galwednesday, silentwalrus, skellerbvvt (A/B/O Canon Divergence | 93K | Explicit): Captain America wakes up from the ice in 2013. The Winter Soldier wakes up in 2009, or rather defects from HYDRA, for a value of defect that’s closer to decimate. He ends up working for SHIELD. In April 2014, he’s assigned to Captain America’s mission as a sniper. Steve’s just trying to get some kind of life together. Bucky is too, or at least he was until tall, blond and Captain shows up and starts just - being there, all the time. It’s terrible. It’s the worst. He has to do something about it.

Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival (Shrunkyclunks, Sugar Daddy Steve, Veteran Bucky | 89K | Explicit): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school and is working on his international relations masters. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth.So how does one get a date in the most top secret government location in the US? What happens when that guy is more than just a hot dorito and wants to give Bucky everything he wants? Bucky is going to have to figure out his shit and fast. That's what's up.

Like Real People Do series by 2bestfriends (Shrunkyclunks, Cabin Fic | 87K | Explicit): Seven years into an isolated retirement after the Battle of New York, Steve has carved out a place for himself in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. He has a best friend (his dog, Lady), a frenemy (a local black bear named Rufus), and a cabin in the middle of the woods, an hour's drive from the nearest town. As November comes to a close, he heads into town to pick up supplies and ends up with a stowaway.Bucky hasn't had much luck over the past seven years. Disaster caused his family to move from New York to Indiana, and his life has steadily fallen apart ever since. After one too many heartbreaks, he decides to hitch his way back to the last place he remembers being happy: Brooklyn. He's in the homestretch when he finds himself stranded in a half-empty tourist town in the Catskills and decides to take a chance crawling into the back of someone's truck.

Is It Pretending If I Already Want You? by OhCaptainMyCaptain (Modern AU, Fake relationship | 85K | Explicit): Basic Steps to Getting Yourself In a Pickle With Both Your Family and The Guy You've Secretly Crushed On For Five Years (A Guide): STEP 1: After being perpetually single and constantly making up excuses to your family, give in and lie about having a boyfriend. STEP 2: Agree to bring said boyfriend to the family cottage for a week so he can be your date to your parents' wedding anniversary party. STEP 3: Panic. STEP 4: Say 'yes' when your best friend and closet crush - who you're convinced isn't interested in you that way in the least - offers to be your pretend boyfriend. STEP 5: Try your best not to fall in love with them during the trip. STEP 6: Fail miserably.

The Odyssey by buckyjerkbarnes (Wonder Woman Fusion | 78K | Teen): "No," Diana murmured, "we fight to protect the men, women and children who are suffering uselessly under the thumbs of infantile dictators. Those men are not leaders—they are whining children, bullies to those who hold less power than them."If Steve were awake, Bucky knew damn well he'd have hearts in his eyes.He wasn't the only one who seemed to be having the same series of thoughts as Monty breathed: "My god, there are two of them."[Alternatively known as "The Frisbee Friends" for Diana and Steve set to be future shield-bros. Ranges from 1944 to 2011.]

four dreams in a row where you were burned by voxofthevoid (Time Travel, Canon Divergent | 75K | Explicit): When Steve uses the last of his Pym Particles to travel to 1944 and save his best friend, he doesn’t have a plan beyond leaving behind the battlefield and living his life alongside the people he loves.But time has a will of its own.

couldn't get the boy to kill me series by voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, BDSM | 74K | Explicit): Captain America and the Winter Soldier are a terrifying duo on the field, working together with a well-oiled precision that tears through their enemies. Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are distant coworkers, all polite nods and mission briefings.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are fire and gasoline; it never ends well.

Into That Good Night by Nonymos (Interstellar AU | 73K | Explicit | Warning: Violence): Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world's end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what's left of mankind towards the exit.But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

Wanna Feel the Heat With Somebody by 2bestfriends (A/B/O AU, Coworkers | 72K | Explicit): Bucky hasn't exactly been a risk-taker in his life, but when you're not only the baby of the family but also the only Omega, risks aren't encouraged, either. So it comes as a shock to himself and his three older, overbearing sisters when he suddenly quits his shitty but reliable job of five years to accept the unsolicited offer from Stark & Rogers. He can't help hoping this will be his chance to find his own way, for once.Too bad a certain cofounder's scent has him trailing behind the tall, gorgeous Alpha like a lovesick idiot.

One Cloud Feels Lonely by thecommodore_squid (orphan_account) (Post-CW | 72K | Mature | Warning: Violence): “I’m going to take a break for a while,” Steve said quietly, not looking at T’Challa, not knowing that this was what he was gonna do until the words were out of his mouth. “I can’t be on a team right now.” T’Challa nodded as if he understood. “Alright.” AKA In which Steve and Bucky both figure out how to be a person again, and it still takes them over 130 years.

Civilian by alby_mangroves, CoraRochester (No Powers AU, WW2 | 71K | Explicit | Warning: Underage): In 1937, Steve Rogers joins the army, and by 1945, he’s back in Brooklyn, dishonorable discharge in hand and nothing to show for years in the Pacific. In 1947, a seventeen year old Bucky Barnes meets Steve Rogers in a Brooklyn gay bar, and Steve Rogers finally comes home.

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter (Zimario) (Post-WS | 71K | Explicit): “They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

in this story, you have claws by voxofthevoid (Canon Divergent, Werewolf Steve | 62K | Explicit): Canon Divergence AU where Steve was turned into a werewolf before Erskine ever met him, Peggy Carter became Captain America, and Bucky Barnes comes in from the cold because of a significantly more furry version of his best friend.

i'm guilty of treason (i've abandoned control) by voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, Nomad Steve, SHIELD Agent Bucky | 57K | Explicit): S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Bucky Barnes is captured on a mission and meets Commander Steve Rogers, the erstwhile Captain America.It escalates quickly.

110 notes · View notes

burgundybmw · 2 years

Text

Munson's Mixtape

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cunningham!Reader

Word Count: 3,720

Warnings: None.

Summary: Chrissy has been acting weird, and like a good big sister Y/N drives to Hawkins from Notre Dame to check in on her. Only to find out she has plans to meet up with Eddie Munson. Things take a turn for the worse and now Y/N gets wrapped in to the horrors of Hawkins. Hey, at least she has the company of the guitarist she was sweet on back in high school for comfort.

Author’s Note: And that's the end! It's so bittersweet to finish the fic that got me back into writing, but all good things come to an end eventually. I'm so beyond thrilled that everyone stuck with it this long! Hope you guys enjoy it! Further down the line I might post an epilogue, but we'll have to see what the future holds.

Final Track

The hot summer wind was whipping against Y/N's face as she drove down the familiar roads to Hawkins High School. Her mind wandered to Eddie, a welcomed train of thought as she nervously grasped the leather steering wheel of her Buick Regal. It was graduation day; he was finally crossing the stage after six long years. Y/N was so proud of him for accomplishing what no one else thought he would. It was bittersweet to think about, Chrissy would have graduated too. She'd be buzzing with excitement about going to UCLA in the fall. They would have gotten dinner with their parents that evening, just like they did when she graduated two years prior. Y/N tried to not let her grief cloud the joyous occasion, but she couldn't help it. Especially considering one of the surprises she had in store for Eddie.

She got the idea from a couple of comments he's made in the past few months. Eddie always talked about Y/N cheering him on, whether it was for his live shows, DnD campaigns, or graduation it didn't matter. It wasn't subtle, Eddie's fascination with her cheer uniform. She didn't mind it at all, which was why she dug out her old Hawkins cheer outfit and wore it today. It needed a lot of work to be done to it, a new zippers and loosened seams. Her body had changed a lot since high school, but the thought didn't cause the overwhelming panic and guilt like it used to. It was just a fact of life. Y/N put on her uniform, saw that it didn't fit, and brought it to the tailor's to get it fixed. It was still a bit tight on her, but she didn't think Eddie would mind it. The only thing she had to worry about was the skirt riding up the back, and she knew Eddie certainly wouldn't mind that at all either.

Everything was all taken care of. Uncle Wayne, Steve, and the kids were all coming to see their friends cross the stage. Robin, Nancy, and now Jonathan Byers, were all graduating alongside Eddie. Max was out of the hospital, all of her injuries healed after months of doctor's visits and physical therapy. She had to wear thick glasses in order to see properly, but they didn't bother her in the slightest. There was hope that with time her eyesight could improve but the girl didn't care either way. She said she was happy to be alive, that it was enough. They all survived an ordeal and now it was time for celebration.

The parking lot was packed with cars of all the different family members off to see the ceremony. Y/N managed to find one at the edge of the lot and rushed out to meet the rest of the gang. She was running late due to some preparations for Eddie's graduation present. She didn't mean to wait last minute, but Eddie was a major distraction leading up to the big day. The loves bites on her chest were evidence enough of that.

One thing she didn't consider was the amount of attention she would get once she walked into the school's auditorium. Students and family members were all staring at her. Eddie had told her that after the prom, she was the talk of the Hawkins high student body for weeks. People who never spoke to him before were asking all sorts of questions about her. Was she really dating him? For how long? Did they sleep together?

Eddie always answered the same way. Yes, since March, and none of your fucking business. He wasn't used to all of the attention, people avoided him like the plague most of his high school career, and for the past few months the only attention he got was negative. After the prom, everyone wanted to know about Eddie "The Freak" Munson. Gareth, Jeff, and the rest of Hellfire did their best to keep the gossip crowd at bay, but you can only do so much in high school. That's why graduation day was such a relief, no more bullshit. Y/N and Eddie could start planning the future together. For once, everything was going right. No worries about the Upside Down or shitty parents. It was just her and him, and the rest of the gang now too. Y/N loved her new little family with all of her heart. She just hoped Chrissy could see her as well.

"Cunningham! We're over here!" Y/N turned her head to see Steve waving his arm over the crowds of people. Their whole group took up an entire row of seats.

"What's with the cheer get up?" Miked asked as Y/N made her way into the row. She knew she looked a bit ridiculous, everyone else was dressed up for the occasion while she walked around in a tiny spandex skirt and pom poms.

"It's a surprise for Eddie-" Y/N began before Max interrupted.

"Ew. I don't wanna hear about your weird sex stuff"

"It's not that!" At least not entirely. She'd be lying if that wasn't part of the reason she decided to wear the uniform.

"Alright enough. Everyone sit down the ceremony is about to start!" Steve chastised with his hands on his hips. Y/N couldn't help but giggle to herself as she took her spot next to him. She was the last seat in the row towards the center aisle, exactly where she instructed Steve to save her spot. It was all a part of her plan, something that she knew would cause a mild spectacle. It was all for Eddie though, he would love the drama.

The faculty and staff of Hawkins High made their way onto the stage, with Principal Coleman at the head of the line. He walked up to the microphone, tapping it a few times before announcing the start of the commencement. He began by offering a moment of silence to all the students who should have been graduating that day but wouldn't, a solemn reminder of all they had lost. Y/N could feel the soft touch of Joyce's hand on her shoulder when they read the list of names of students who died. Chrissy was the third.

"Are you okay sweetie?" Joyce asked in a soft whisper. She was sitting behind Y/N in the other row next to Chief Hopper and the rest of the parents.

"Yea I'm alright" when she was young, Y/N used to feel jealous of Will and Jonathan. Their mother was one of the kindest women she had ever met, a stark contrast to her own. She used to think about what could have happened if Joyce had adopted her instead. At the time she felt guilty about it, felt as if she was abandoning her sister in her mind. Deep down she knew she would never trade the time she had with Chrissy, not for anything else in the world. Despite everything that happened, Y/N's relationship with her sister was something she'd never regret.

"And now, I'd like to introduce the class Valedictorian of 1986... Miss. Nancy Wheeler"

Nancy walked on stage with the same grace and power she had during the fight against Vecna. Her chin held eye and flawless posture. Y/N didn't know she had earned the title, but it didn't surprise her. Nancy was one of the smartest people she knew, and secretly one of the toughest too.

"Principal Coleman, Trustees, Faculty members, family, friends and of course, my fellow graduates of the class of 1986, it is a pleasure to be here today with all of you honoring this occasion" Nancy began, voice clear and strong through the microphone.

"Hawkins has been through many tragedies within the past three years and it's difficult to feel celebratory knowing that. Under normal circumstances, I would have stood up in front of all of you today and gave my thanks to the school, my fellow classmates, friends, and family. I would have cracked a few lame jokes about how good it is to finally leave high school, or how excited we all are to start our lives. I would have quoted C.S. Lewis or Mark Twain, something witty and clever that would get a few nods of appreciation from Ms. O'Donnell and others..."

The room was dead quiet, everyone laser focused on the girl behind the podium. Nancy took closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them once more. A moment of altruistic reflection before she spoke again.

"Yet, I can't bring myself to do that today. I can't stand here knowing there was someone else who deserved this spot more than me. I think about how if Barbara Holland hadn't died in 1983, she would have wiped the floor with me. I think about Fred Benson, who would have complained about taking VP when he was so close to beating me for first place. I think about Patrick McKinney, who I used to tutor in Calculus, coming up to me and thanking me for getting him here today. I think about Chrissy Cunningham, who would have been thrilled that her sister was here to watch her cross the same stage she did two years ago. I think about Eddie Munson, who almost didn't make it here today. Who fought tooth and nail in the hospital and within these walls to graduate this year. I think about every person who's missing from this room and wonder why they were taken from us. Why them? Why then? Why now?"

Y/N could feel her eyes fills with tears as Nancy spoke. For the past few months everyone told her how sorry they were for her loss, or how it's not good to dwell on the grief she felt. That she needed to move on, move forward. It was like they didn't want to acknowledge it, death. It was easy to talk about, but not to fully understand. Well wishes and 'in our prayers' are nice sentiments, but that's all they are. Sentiment. This was honesty.

"You're all probably wondering why I am giving such a solemn speech. It's graduation day, we should all be in high spirits. I don't disagree. I know some of us are in denial that we made it here today, expecting the other shoe to drop at any moment. Others are angry that the supposed golden years are behind us now. We want to bargain our way out, hold on to adolescence just a bit longer, not ready to enter the world as adults. It's depressing to know that most of us will not see many of your faces again after this day. Yet, we must accept it is a fact of life.

We can allow ourselves to grieve, feel the pain that comes with loss, but still find joy within the everyday. We can celebrate today, our accomplishments, and still remember those who never got the chance too. We cannot have life without death, happiness without sorrow, peace without discord. You cannot see the light without the dark that surrounds it. I want to remind all of you today, that although this is the end of one stage in our lives, we do not have to forget everything that happened thus far. Every day we will continue to learn, grow, and develop into the people we are meant to be. We will go many places in life, and we will remember those who helped us get there. A wise man once said, your future hasn't been written yet. No one's has. Your future is whatever you make it...

So, congratulations class of 1986, go make your future a good one"

The room erupted into applause, a full standing ovation. There wasn't a dry eye in the building after Nancy's speech. It was exactly what everyone needed to hear in that moment, even if they didn't necessarily want to. Y/N was proud of her. She didn't plaster on a smile, say a few nice words to make everyone feel good. Nancy was sincere. There had been a dark cloud over Hawkins since the gate to the Upside Down had opened and now it felt like the sky was opening up again. There was hope for a better tomorrow, a rainbow in the dark.

Principal Coleman began announcing all of the names of the class of 1986. Robin was the first of the group to cross the stage. Everyone in her row was whistling in shouting in congratulations. The sudden applause caused her to stumble a bit as she walked off stage, but she recovered quickly. Jonathan followed next, a small smile on his face as his mother and brother applauded him within the crowd.

Y/N was patiently waiting for Eddie's name to be called. With each passing student her heartbeat faster in her chest. She debated about whether it was appropriate given Nancy's speech, but she had already come this far. There was no turning back. She just hoped Eddie would like it, it would be mortifying if he didn't.

"Are you guys ready?" Y/N asked, her palms sweating as she gripped her pom poms in hand. They all nodded their heads, the time was quickly approaching.

"Eddie Munson"

As soon as his name was called Y/N stood up and moved out of her row. Eddie was about to walk on stage when he noticed her there, eyes wide with shock to see her in her old uniform. The same uniform she wore when she was a student at Hawkins High. With the biggest smile she could manage, Y/N began her yell.

"Let's go Eddie! Let's go!"

She had clapped her pom poms twice, crossed her arms before raising them up again. The same cheers she did at every basketball game.

"Let's go Eddie! Let's go!"

With every word all of her friends raised up their signs. Steve at the head with Lets, Dustin after him with Go, and Will, Mike, El, Lucas, and Max, holding up each letter of his name; spelling out the cheer she shouted in the auditorium.

"Let's go Eddie! Let's go!"

His entire face lit up as she cheered. Eddie looked at her, all of his friends, the people he loves more than anything else in the world, shouting his name with astonishment. He knew they'd all be there, but this was something he never expected. Principal Coleman had to call his name twice before he finally made his way on to the stage. Eddie rushed through the handshake with the Principal, grabbed his diploma, and immediately raced down stage again. The graduation cap on his head fell to the floor as he ran to Y/N in the center aisle. He opened his arms out wide and grabbed her by the waist, spinning around in a circle with a big toothy grin. She abandoned her pom poms, too focused on hugging the man she loves in return.

"Did you like my cheer baby?" Y/N asked in between her fits of giggles.

"Totally worth the six years I've spent here to see that, sweetheart"

After the brief reprimand from Principal Coleman for disrupting the ceremony, Eddie left her to return to his seat. The rest of graduation went smoothly, filled with cheers and applause. Y/N snuck out after all of the graduates threw their caps into the air, returning to her car to grab the present she made for Eddie.

She waited outside of Eddie's van, present in hand, for everyone to come out of the high school. Y/N could see some students and their parents walking towards the cars, but there was no sign of Eddie just yet. Knowing him, he was probably talking to everyone else inside wondering where she was. After a few moments she finally spotted that familiar mop of long brown hair, it was time.

She yelled his name from the other side of the parking lot. Just like when he got off stage, Eddie raced over to her. His graduation gown fluttering in the wind like Superman's cape.

“Congrats Grad!” Y/N shouted as he ran over to his beloved van. Eddie didn't hesitate to pick her up and sit her on the hood. He stood between her legs and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, the tip of his graduation cap pressing against her forehead.

"Why thank you my fair lady, you know I couldn't have done it without you" Eddie was playing with the seem of her skirt, the one that was much too short to be appropriate for practice.

"I'm sure that's not true" Y/N had offered to help him with his studies once he got out of the hospital, but he shot her down. All of his success was his doing and she was all the more proud of him for it.

"Of course it is sweetheart. If you weren't there to support me, be there for me, I would have never crossed that stage today" Eddie began, his hand traveling up under her skirt, "it would have been such a shame if I didn't. I would have never been graced to you in this uniform again cheering my name. Do you think I could get a repeat performance later tonight?" There was no denying what he meant, the wolfish grin and the hand on her ass was a dead give away.

"Easy there tiger, no fraternization on school property"

"But I'm not a student anymore, aren't I?" Eddie didn't give her a chance to speak before he kissed her again. His tongue slowly entering her mouth with a groan. It pained her to pull him away from her, but she knew if they continued she would never be able to hold herself together.

"No you're not, but don't you want to open the present I got you?" Y/N said as she waved the small box in front of Eddie's face. He looked at the small box in her palms, the brown paper folded neatly at the corners with a wax seal at the top. There was writing in a language he quickly recognized in the top corner in black ink, the letters swooping and interloping in a beautiful style of calligraphy.

"Baby... You didn't" Eddie said in awe as she placed the present in his waiting hands.

"I did. Now open it up, see what's inside"

Eddie gently undid the wax seal connecting the paper together, not wanting to risk ripping her hard work. Inside was a cassette tape, the cover decorated with the same art on his Hellfire Club t-shirts. Y/N had asked Will to paint it for her, she didn't want to mess up the design with her horrible art skills. Eddie flipped the other side to find a list of all the songs on the tape.

"Sweetheart..." he held the tape like it was something precious, a bar of gold rather than some cheap plastic. Eddie read over each line on the cassette over and over again as if it contained all the secrets of the universe within. A sense of déjà vu washed over them both. When Y/N thought about what to give Eddie for his graduation present, this was the only thing she wanted to do. The mixtape he made for her 2 years to the day was her most prized possession, he put his heart and soul into that tape and she wanted to do the same. This time, it was without any pretense. Every song she picked was tailored to her experience with him. It was the soundtrack of their love.

"Well? Do you like it?" Y/N asked after a moment. Eddie looked up at her, his eyes wet and glassy. She instantly knew he understood her message loud and clear.

"Like it? Y/N, shit, this is the greatest gift I've ever been given" he wrapped his arms tightly around her, pressing sweet kisses all over her face, "I love it so much sweetheart, there aren't even words in any language real or fictional to explain it. I'm gonna listen to this everyday until the ribbon inside is torn to shreds"

"I'm so glad you like it Eds, I love you" Y/N held his grinning face in her hands and pulled him in for another kiss. Eddie returned it in kind. She felt as if everything had fallen into place in that moment. Vecna was gone, Eddie had finally graduated high school, and now she was back on track at Notre Dame. After months of trials and tribulations, it was all over. It was like she could finally take a deep breathe again, fill her lungs with oxygen and swallow the gentle air Eddie let out between each touch of their lips.

"I love you too sweetheart"

"Ya know, since we're both going to be in Hawkins for awhile..." Y/N didn't get to finish the end of her sentence. The chorus of complaints from Steve's BMW interrupted their moment. They were all heading to Enzo's for dinner that evening, all to celebrate their friends' achievements. It was Y/N's idea. It was the same tradition she had with her sister after every major event. Whether if it was for dance recitals, gymnastics tournaments, or academic accomplishments, they always went to Enzo's. Sometimes their parents joined, other times it was just the two girls. Y/N wanted to carry on the tradition with her new family, the one she found for herself.

Y/N hopped off the hood of the van and hopped inside the passenger seat, Eddie following closely behind. He opened up the cassette tape and popped it into radio. The campy melodies from the Rocky Horror Picture Show filled their ears as Eddie drove out the parking lot. Y/N lowered the window down and watched as the woods behind the Hawkins High slowly disappeared from view. The rain from this morning had finally cleared away, leaving a bright sunny day in its wake. In the distance, Y/N could see a large rainbow over skies of Hawkins. She couldn't help but think it was a sign from Chrissy. That maybe somewhere her sister was looking out for her, letting her know that she was okay, that Y/N would be okay too.

Ever since she passed, Y/N thought about Chrissy finding her somewhere over the rainbow.

It wasn't until that moment Y/N realized she had found her own.

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lgcmanager · 2 months

Text

MODELING MISSION 018

SCHEDULE TYPE:TRIMESTER ( PART 1 OUT OF 1 ) SCHEDULE RESTRICTIONS: Cannot be paired with another trimester schedule, unless stated otherwise. for reference as to whether your muse is eligible for this event, please click over HERE.

all of the models are called to a meeting with their managers, NAM JINHO, CHOI INYOUNG, and KANG DONGHA. not wanting to waste any time, the managers begin going through everything that will be happening in the new term.

DORMS

“in the past terms, we’ve allowed everyone who has joined legacy agency the option to stay in dorms or find their own place. however, due to the incident that happened a while back and how our bosses have been telling us to be ever so more watchful towards all of you, we’ve changed our rules. similar to last term, every person who joins the subsidiary will stay in the dorms for one term. if you have been under probation before, then that will last two terms — one for the term where you were under probation and another to follow every new person that joins us.” INYOUNG pauses to look at JINHO, who then continues on with the explanation.

“for the ones that have gone through one term in this path without any warnings, punishments, or scandals during that time, they will be given the option to live offsite. those of you confirmed to stay will be able to move into your new dorms starting from today. otherwise, for those of you who have chosen to stay in your own place, you will need to pack up and leave your current dorms starting from today as well. and just like AECHA has said in the past, just because you aren’t under our watch 24/7 anymore does not mean that you can go crazy. if we hear of any inappropriate behavior, you will be immediately brought back to the dorms.” JINHO looks at each one of the models, making sure that they know and are aware of the new dorm changes.

SNS

INYOUNG transitions to the next topic on their agenda, “for all of the individuals who joined the modeling path, it’s a necessity for them to have sns presence especially with the projects and opportunities presented to you. but this is a privilege we only give to so many people. so for some of the lucky individuals, you are permitted to have a PUBLIC INDIVIDUAL INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT. if you fail to abide by the rules or cause trouble, you account will immediately be terminated, no questions asked.”

DEBUT CONTRACT

“now we’re almost done with the basics, but there’s one legal matter that we have to cover right now.” INYOUNG turns to look at DONGHA, who is giving the contracts to some of the models. “please read and review through the new terms and conditions. once you are done, sign and return the contract to me or JINHO as soon as possible. it doesn’t have to be done right now, but the sooner the better because your modeling career will be starting soon and we want to make sure this is done in a seamless manner.”

( this is just an ic note, there is no need to submit this ooc )

FANSITE ( OPEN EVENT 6 ) & BIRTHDAY ( OPEN EVENT 7 )

for the ones that have joined the path, they will be eligible to participate in OPEN EVENTS 6 and 7.

MODEL BRANDS PART 2

information about this will be in a separate post, so please look forward to that!

LGC STYLE SEASON 2

INYOUNG begins with the first and quick announcement for all of the models, “as some of you may have heard, there will be a second season of LGC STYLE. it’s a different concept compared to the first season, but we suggest ALL of you to participate in the show.”

more information about this will be in the VARIETY SHOWS/LGC STYLE posts, but as mentioned, all of the models ( ic ) will be suggested to participate in it. ooc wise, the models do NOT need to meet the minimum 30 points in variety and hosting to join due to the show’s concept.

MODELING CONTRACT RENEWALS

“this is more towards JINSEO, JINYOUNG, and SANGHYUN,” INYOUNG turned her head slowly to the three models. “since the previous contract for your individual gigs have ended, we’ve been told by the brands that all of your contracts will be renewed. with this new campaign, you will be a part of those brands until the end of the year.”

congratulations to JINSEO, JINYOUNG, and SANGHYUN! for completing the requirements all of you will be continuing being a model for the brands until the end of DECEMBER. each of the brands have specific schedules in mind, so please take that into consideration when doing the writing requirement(s) for this.

all three of them will be asked to promote their brands ( JINSEO – KOOKMIN BANK, JINYOUNG – LOTTE WORLD WATER PARK, SANGHYUN – SAMSONITE ) for at least ONE episode in their personal channels ( ic ). the models will be asked to advertise their brands in creative ways ( the product placement must be around 1-3 minutes ) and before their episode is aired on their channel, it will be sent to their respective brands to make sure that their product placement ad is acceptable. since the cfs and endorsements will not be posted until JUNE ( KOOMIN BANK – JUNE 7, LOTTE WATER PARK – JUNE 10, SAMSONITE – JUNE 11 ), please make sure that the product placement episode is filmed around that month.

in addition to that, they will be filming and taking photos for the commercial film/endorsement and behind the scenes. during the behind the scenes, they will be asking the models to vlog the experience and the video will be aired sometime around Q3.

REQUIREMENTS

make sure to use the hashtag lgc:mcrenewals for everything related to the modeling contract renewals. you have until JUNE 29, 2024 11:59 EDT, to complete the following requirement:

PPL: write a 250+ word solo about how your muse would have promoted their brand for their personal channel. please take into consideration what you think your muse’s personal channel is known for and find a connection between that and the brand that they are modeling for ( eg. having an episode about your muse’s favorite types of jewelry and then having an ad talking about how they like a jewelry brand that they are a model for ). if you want to, you could include this section into the personal channel solo and then link the personal channel solo for this. however, please make sure that you make some clear indication which part in the solo is the product placement AND the word count as well. completing this will earn you +5 MODELING and +13 NOTORIETY !

when you’re done, please submit the form below to the lgcpoints blog:

MUSE NAME ∙ MODELING CONTRACT RENEWALS- PPL: +5 modeling, +13 notoriety [ LINK ]

MODELING CASTING CALL

“as for everyone else, you will be given a chance to audition for some brands that may be interested in having you as their next model. in the next couple of weeks, we’ll be sending each of you notifications of the brands that are having their casting call and if you are interested in it, you can notify your manager beforehand and sign up for it.” INYOUNG then explains to the models the pertinent information as to how each of the models could sign-up if they’re interested in attending the casting call for the brand.

for HYUNHEE, JISOO, SEUNGHYUN, JIAH, and AMELIA, each of you will submit THREE brands that their muse would have attended for their casting calls. in character, these casting calls will happen throughout the term ( APRIL – JUNE ).

the three brands that you’ve submitted must NOT conflict with each other OR the current brands that your model is a part of ( as a model OR as a brand owner ).

you HAVE to be specific on the brands that you listed. for example, you cannot put lotte as one of the brands because there are multiple operations ( ex. lotte department store, lotte world, lotte rental, korea fujifilms ).

it is possible to put designer brands in the list, but ideally to increase your chances of getting picked it is best to diversify the brand choices. the best advice to go with this is to refer to your modeling portfolio post ( if you have done so ) and use the information there to help you gauge what brand(s) you think your muse would go to the casting call for.

please make sure to refer to the MODELING CONTRACTS tab to see how many slots your muse has available. if the slots get all filled up by the end of this deadline, then your muse will not be eligible for the next part of the casting call. we would strongly advise waiting until AFTER the model brands post has been posted to submit the form below.

in addition, if you have ONE slot available in the modeling contracts, you can fill up the form below and submit it to the lgcpoints blog before MAY 4, 2024 11:59PM EDT.

MUSE NAME ∙ BRAND CASTING CALL - BRAND #1: [ name of the brand & product/service category ] - BRAND #2: [ name of the brand & product/service category ] - BRAND #3: [ name of the brand & product/service category ] - BRAND CASTING CALL REWARDS: +5 MODELING, +2 NOTORIETY

SANGHYUN’S FANMEETING

“the subsidiary will be announcing this publicly soon, but SANGHYUN’s fanmeeting is scheduled to be on FRIDAY, JUNE 14. if any of you are interested in attending the fanmeeting, please let me know beforehand since i will be the one handling SANGHYUN’s schedules in the meantime.” JINHO looked at SANGHYUN with a smile on his face.

similar to ‘the hidden enemy’ musical, any of the LGC models who attend the fanmeeting are free to post on their personal instagram accounts their attendance and support for the fanmeeting.

COLOR PHOTOSHOOT ( PART 2 )

“we’re happy to say that with the creative ideas the teams had, the magazines have decided to publish them in their own magazine for the upcoming issues!” JINHO reveals proudly before giving the models a bit more information about when their issues would be released.

all of the magazines listed below will be released on the first of the month:

TEAM CLAY BROWN + NYLON KOREA ( HYUNHEE, JINSEO, AMELIA ): MAY 2024 ISSUE

TEAM FIRE BRICK + 1ST LOOK ( JINYOUNG ): MAY 2024 ISSUE

TEAM LIGHT CYAN + BEAUTY+ ( SANGHYUN ): JUNE 2024 ISSUE

TEAM YELLOW GREEN + ARENA HOMME ( JISOO & SEUNGHYUN ): JUNE 2024 ISSUE

to help determine the success of these magazines, all of the MODELS will be participating in WRITING CHALLENGE 004. unlike some of the past challenges where the results will be factored into the music charts results, this writing challenge is cumulative and will contribute to the overall success of the magazine sales. depending on the posts and scores made as a group, this may open to future and bigger modeling opportunities for the models.

WRITING CHALLENGE 004 ( OPTIONAL )

the writing challenge has made an appearance once again! here’s a reminder of the rules: any thread replies ( with a minimum of 8 lines ) written between TODAY until JUNE 29, 2024 11:59PM EDT will be counted. text threads will not count for this challenge unless the post includes a paragraph of at least 8 lines. as for starters, you can only write a maximum of TWO for this to count.

if you are interested in doing this, please tag all of the posts as lgc:wc004 and you have until JUNE 29, 2024 11:59PM EDT to participate and submit your posts for this event. when you’re done, please submit the form below to the lgcpoints blog:

MUSE NAME ∙ WRITING CHALLENGE 004 - POSTS COMPLETED: [ # of posts; do include how many starters were written in case you wrote one ] - POSTS: [ link all of the posts ]

#lgc:event #lgc:q22024 #lgc:modelmission

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inner-sakura · 2 years

Text

Hypothetically Ever After

[childhood friends AU, adrienette, slowburn, fake/pretend relationship]

With only two weeks of summer vacation to spare, Marinette enlists Adrien’s help with a task of utmost importance.

“I need you to help me seduce your brother.”

Quite predictably, nothing goes according to plan.

a fic inspired by jennifer echols’s the boys next door, and starrycove’s Brothers AU (where PV Félix is Adrien’s older brother) because both of them have lived in my head and my heart for many years.

read the rest: AO3 | ff.net

chapter thirty-seven

When they pulled up in front of the restaurant, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder whether this was some kind of twisted joke.

Because she recognized that tiny hole-in-the-wall café, tucked at the end of a quaint, cobblestone street.

She froze in place, staring at the patio with its four small tables, twinkling lights swaying in the breeze as they dangled above.

Why would Félix bring me here, of all places?

Mistaking her reluctance for skepticism, Félix made a half-hearted attempt at reassuring her.

“It may not look like much, but the food is satisfactory. We will also be able to speak privately here.”

Numbly, Marinette followed him in, only managing to speak up when the waiter asked where they would prefer to be seated.

“Inside, please,” she replied immediately, clearing her throat slightly when her voice came out strangled. She studiously avoided Félix’s gaze.

She couldn’t sit on that same patio under those same lights, at those same tables with their red checkered tablecloths, with a different boy. Even if it was the boy she’d dreamed of coming here with in the first place.

It just felt wrong now.

God, this is so uncomfortable, she fidgeted in her seat, wringing her hands in her lap where they were hidden under the table.

Apart from placing their drink orders, the two of them had spent their evening predominantly in silence. Félix, in spite of his excellent table manners, had made little to no effort at engaging her in conversation, which suited Marinette’s purposes just fine.

She knew she was probably coming off sullen and withdrawn, but she couldn’t muster up the energy to care. She just felt exhausted.

And confused, since she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why Félix had brought her here, to this restaurant.

Why here, why now? She wanted to lean across the table, grab him by the lapels of his expensive sports coat, and shake the answers out of him.

After everything that had happened, what was it that finally convinced him to ask her out? Was it because she had finally stopped caring—stopped desperately seeking his approval, stopped thinking about him hardly at all?

Someone up there must have a very deranged sense of humour, Marinette was coming to realize. Because now that she was here with Félix, the only thing she could think about was how much she would rather it be Adrien seated across from her instead.

It was almost funny, in a sick kind of way. She had emerged victorious—crossing the finish line first and finally achieving the goal she’d been working towards for so long—only to discover that she’d been running the wrong race the entire time.

A hollow victory if ever there was one.

Only once they were mostly finished eating did Félix deign to speak.

Marinette had been pushing food around on her plate for the past ten minutes, not having much of an appetite for even the delicious meal in front of her. What little she had managed to choke down sat in her stomach like a lead ball; heavy and uncomfortable to the point of pain.

She pushed her mostly full plate away with a pang of regret.

“In the interest of full disclosure, I feel compelled to inform you that I am… up-to-date, shall we say, on everything that has transpired.”

Marinette’s eyes shot up, meeting Félix’s cool blue gaze across the table.

“He told you?” Her voice rose incredulously, easily carrying over the music and the sounds of the other patrons enjoying their meals. Marinette, however, couldn’t care less about ruining someone else’s dining experience at the moment. Félix shot her a reproachful look, which under normal circumstances would have been enough to cow her. Instead, it only added fuel to her emotional maelstrom.

I can’t believe Adrien ratted me out to his brother! Brimming with indignation, she opened her mouth, fully intent on giving him a piece of her mind.

Félix held up a hand, obviously wanting to stave off the barrage of accusations she was on the verge of lobbing at him.

“Before you get too worked up and cause a scene,” here he gave her another look. Her jaw closed with a snap. “You should know that he was in a rather agitated mental state at the time.” Yes, she remembered quite well the state she’d left Adrien in last night, thank you very much. Based on the way her feet looked like she’d been playing kickball with a cheese grater this morning, she hadn’t exactly been faring much better. “So although he isn’t entirely without blame, you’ll have to excuse the indiscretion.”

“Excuse the—?” Marinette spluttered. “Wha—did he—what did he tell you?”

“If you’re wondering how much I know, then the answer is more than I cared to,” Félix sighed, as though he found the whole situation most inconvenient. “I would wager that Adrien left out very little with regards to your plan. I know all about the fake dating scheme, your crush on me… Do I need to go on?”

Marinette trembled, burning with shame as he threw everything back in her face, humiliated by the callous disregard he held for her feelings and everything she had gone through. How could she have ever entrusted this man with her heart when it was so obvious that her suffering meant absolutely nothing to him?

I can’t believe I used to claim I loved him, she thought in disbelief, becoming less convinced by the minute that she even liked him on a platonic level.

Félix was the very embodiment of everything Marinette disliked about Gabriel Agreste. The way he treated the people around him like they were inconsequential pawns to be used, abused, and thrown out when they were no longer useful made him nothing short of a complete, and total—

“Asshole,” Marinette let out an incredulous laugh, watching Félix’s jaw drop with a perverse sort of pleasure. If there was any part of her that was still clinging to her promise to Émilie Agreste, she relinquished it in that moment, allowing the last embers of her crush on Félix Agreste to sputter out and die.

It didn’t matter what anyone else wanted, or who she was supposedly ‘destined’ to be with. Her life and her choices were her own to make. She wouldn’t put up with being mistreated or belittled by anyone—let alone someone she was supposed to be ‘in love’ with—and she definitely wasn’t going to go to any more desperate lengths to fight for their love in return. Some streets were not meant to run both ways.

Feeling infinitely lighter in the wake of her epiphany, Marinette stood, sending her chair skittering back behind her.

“What is this, a setup? Did you invite me here just to humiliate me?” She accused him, unconcerned by the fact that she really was causing a scene at this point.

Another far more alarming thought occurred to her, one that made her insides twist.

“Is Adrien in on this? Did you guys plan this as some form of payback?”

Adrien had told Félix everything, after all. About her crush, about the plan, about the fake dating… Maybe they really had concocted some sort of plot to get back at her, to take her to task for her behaviour.

No, Marinette shook her head, squashing that line of thinking directly. Despite how angry he might be, there was no way that Adrien would ever stoop that low. While his father and brother might thrive on the Agreste brand of cruelty, Adrien was a good person to the core.

Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to waste any more time questioning his motives, or trying to understand and rationalize why he’d done it. In the end, it would just drive her crazy.

The only thing she needed to worry about at present was getting the hell away from this restaurant and anything Agreste-related, posthaste.

She spun on her heel, set on storming out and walking all the way home if she had to, torn up feet be damned.

Only to freeze in her tracks at the feeling of slim, cool fingers encircling her wrist.

“Adrien doesn’t know I’m here,” Félix admitted in a rush, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

Marinette stared, first at his hand, then at his face in equal measure.

...what?

Félix, for the first time in their acquaintance, looked genuinely discomfited. “In fact, he’d probably be furious if he knew I was.”

Marinette sat back down slowly, ignoring the disapproving looks the other restaurant patrons were shooting her way. “Then why are you here?” She asked, puzzled.

Félix took his time responding, testing out the weight of his words.

“Because my brother is in love with you.”

Marinette reared back, as shocked as if he’d reached across the table and thrown his drink in her face.

“And he has been since we were children. I always knew, of course. It was painfully obvious to everyone. Well, almost everyone.”

He spoke with a particular kind of emphasis, one that had her cheeks flaming. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out to whom he might be referring.

Still, she struggled to wrap her mind around the concept.

Adrien…? In love with me? She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, trying to listen to the rest of his words, scared to interrupt for fear that it might cause him to stop speaking.

“My mother would tease him about it all the time. Talking about how cute you were, and warning Adrien that if he didn't act on it, some other boy would come along one day and snatch you up.”

He appeared to be lost in thought now, fully immersed in his retelling. She wasn’t sure whether it was the candlelight, or the strength of his memories, but whatever it was, something about what he was saying had brought a light back to Félix’s face—one that Marinette was sad to realize she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

The waiter came by then, quickly whisking away their plates. Marinette watched as he beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen, obviously picking up on the tense atmosphere and not wanting to stick around any longer than necessary. She didn’t blame him.

“I think I, and my father, always just assumed it was a simple crush... Liable to fade over time, like feelings so often do. But my mother knew. She knew.” The faraway look in his eye had faded, only to be replaced by something much sharper.

“She told me to watch out for my brother and be there for him. So that’s what I’m doing. I should have intervened sooner, but then again I never imagined that the two of you would manage to bungle things up quite so spectacularly.” Félix scoffed, shaking his head slightly. “I should have known.”

He pinned her in place with a laser-beam stare, and it was all Marinette could do not to squirm like a wriggling worm on a hook.

“So, what do you have to say for yourself? Any words to add in your own defence?”

She opened her mouth, ready to unleash all of her pent up anger and hurt onto him.

But there was nothing.

Not a single word came to mind that she could speak in her own defence, because her actions were indefensible.

None of this would have happened if she had simply gone about things the right way, and confessed to Félix directly. Yes, he would have turned her down, and yes it would have been painful at the time. But she would have recovered eventually. She might even have naturally come around to her feelings for Adrien, if she’d been less focused on trying to come up with new and increasingly wily ways of snagging his brother’s attention.

Instead, she had dragged him into her mess, broken her own heart, and potentially his in the process, if what Félix had said about Adrien having feelings for her was to be believed.

“I’ve been an idiot.”

Félix nodded. “Yes, you have.”

“I hurt him,” Marinette whispered, blinking rapidly to clear the moisture from her eyes. Goddamn if she wasn’t tired of tearing up every five minutes. If only her heart and her tear ducts would get the message.

“Yes, you did,” Félix’s agreement was blunt, matter-of-fact. “But it doesn’t look like you made it out unscathed either.”

He examined her, the glint in his eye knowing.

Marinette swallowed, struggling to speak past the oppressive weight on her chest.

“How can I fix this?” She asked, beyond feeling any embarrassment about the raw desperation plainly audible in her voice.

“On your own?” He paused, considering the thought. “I’m not sure whether it’s possible.”

Before she could slump in defeat, or excuse herself from the table to go enjoy a nice, long cry in the bathroom, Félix went on.

“But with some assistance, I think that we'll be able to figure something out.”

Félix leaned back in his chair, a barely there tilt to his lips.

We'll be able to figure something out, he’d said. Meaning that he wasn’t going to abandon her to blunder through this on her own.

For the first time that day, Marinette felt a flutter in her chest, like a small bird unfurling its wings.

Maybe all hope isn’t lost, after all.

And so, as she sat across from Félix Agreste in that tiny, candlelit Italian bistro, Marinette decided to do what she did best.

She began to plan.

-x-

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #ml fic recs #no miraculous au #ml fanworks #ml brothers au #childhood friends au #ongoing fic #hypothetically ever after

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markicantwait · 2 years

Text

Boyfriend

I want to present the first text of "The boyfriend series" a compilation of texts inspired by songs that have been transcendental for me. This text is also inspired by this post I made several months ago.

You tried to convince yourself that what you were doing wasn't justify your boyfriend's poor attitude towards you, always doing the minimum to receive all the attention and recognition his ego needed, that the idea of his "Easy Love" was more than a few kisses and some poor "me too" texts when he left you alone in bed was enough for you

That night was supposed to be the anniversary dinner with your boyfriend, but of course, nothing went as expected. It was you who made the reservations, it was you who reminded him of the date and ask him to clean his agenda for that day, it was you who managed to collect months of salary and student scholarship to go to a fancy restaurant and live for one night the fantasy of a perfect romance,but in the end none of that happened.

Forty-five minutes was how long it took him to send a message saying that "he had forgotten" the game with the boys being more important, "I'll make it up, honey."

You could have gone home and cried to yourself or gone to his apartment and caused a big scene, but you were already there and at least your dress, makeup, and hair were worth seeing for a while.

The scene was a bit unfortunate, you were alone at a table for two, having the second glass of wine of the night with the food almost forgotten, at least the consolation that you looked good was enough to not to cry at the restaurant

"Is this seat taken?"

To say she was beautiful was an understatement, whether it was the lighting of the place, the way she styled her hair, the dress she wore or her voice. The instrumental of some song played in the background completing the scene, it was like seeing a past dream that was brought to life only to verify that it existed at some point and now you had it materialized in front of you.

"Oh no, it's not, please"

"Thank you" she said smiling, up close the subtle aroma of lavender and something else, enveloped the small space now that you shared

"What 's your name?"

That night ended with Rose driving you home after spending a pleasant number of hours talking about food, music, fashion, books. The little details of that night stayed with you for the next days, from the way she helped you with your seat as you got up, the careful touch of her hand on your lower back as she guided you out, the graceful way she offered you help when you got out of the vehicle, to the action of waiting for you to enter your house so she could leave.

Of course you exchanged numbers that night

"Let me know when you get home" you told her

"Is this your way of asking me for my number?"

But she complied with your simple request, letting you know when she got home to finish with a "Sleep well"

Almost four days had passed since that night and your phone felt heavy in your hand as time passed, it would be easy just to send her a message saying hello, just that.

The surprise was when that afternoon during school, Rose's name jumped up on the screen.

"Hello, how have you been these days? Let me know if you're free, we can meet up for a drink! have a good day (: "

"Hey!..."

Friday was the day you both agreed to go out to dinner near your workplace, you expected to find Rose in the restaurant, but what a surprise when you saw her outside waiting for you, it felt a little different to see her there so familiar. The hair that was once in big waves was now straight and up, the dress had gone to be replaced for a simple outfit that screamed style all over it, the light makeup only completed the image,to be honest everything about Rose scream rich and fancy

“Hello” she said smiling “Are you ready? Do you have all your things?”

“Yes, all set. Let's go"

In the small place you entered, the same atmosphere repeated as a few days ago, you chatted about your jobs, private lives, things that bother you both and upcoming plans. Again, the small details that Rose had didn't go unnoticed, from fixing the chair for you, asking what you liked best to drink and when it was time to pay for dinner the little "It's on me" fight.

"Come on, I was the one who invited you, next time you can pay"

The next time never really came, not because you didn't go out together, but Rose refused to let you pay, and that kind of made you feel bad, but you knew she didn't mean it like that, so after a few weeks with this routine, you thought giving her something would be nice.

It was something simple but you hoped that she would really like it, or at least pretend to. That day, you had agreed to go to lunch together near Rose's work, while you were waiting for her in the restaurant you felt a little nervous, there was no great reason why, you just hoped that she would like your gift.

"I'm sorry love. I had to attend to some things quickly. Have you already ordered something, should I call the waiter?”

"Don't worry, I just got here. I haven´t, I was waiting for you. I have a present for you. Oh, come on don't look at me like that, it's something small and you said you needed it” You handed her the small white bag

“To be small it weighs something. Oh how nice! I love the color. You made it? I didn't know you´re into ceramics”

“Oh, no, no. I bought it, sorry to disappoint you. You said your favorite mug for work was broken so I thought I'd get you a new one, do you like it?"

“Of course!, I was starting to get tired of using the office mugs, don't get me wrong but I don't like to share a lot, this will definitely look prettier on my desk and the color is nice, thanks”

"Yellow, you said you liked it"

“From now on it will be my new favorite color”

Again, she didn't let you pay.

The next few months went by quickly with Rose in your life popping up continuously, she suddenly went from being a new contact to a new friend and it was obvious to everyone your new friendship, from one more addition to your facebook list, one more follower on instagram, the ig stories of your nights out and a lot of shared time, so much that it seemed that your boyfriend was finally paying attention to something other than his nose.

He showed up at your apartment that day after you hadn't talked for a while, a week to be exact, so seeing him at your door surprised you a bit.

"Hey babe, I'm here. What are we having for dinner today?"

"Excuse me? What are you doing here?"

“I came to see my girlfriend. Lately we don't see each other much anymore, it seems that you have forgotten me”

Is he pouting?

“I understand that, but you can't come unannounced. What if I have guests or am planning to go out?

“Go out with who? With that blonde girl? At this point I'll be jealous of her. Babe, don't you think you're hanging out too much lately? You barely pay attention to me, I used to let it go because you were focused on work and the unnecessary things of school, but now you spend all your time going from party to party. What are people going to think of me?”

he must be kidding

“So you came all the way to my house to discuss yourself? We haven't seen each other for days and it's the first thing that comes to your mind to say?”

“You're overreacting again. All I'm saying is that you should care a little more about our relationship. I text you and you're always busy, I was giving you time and the first thing you did was go to the club as if you were single. While I'm at work and with the boys you're out there doing who knows what with someone else like a…”

Your hand reached his face before your mind grasped what happened.

“Never, in your life, do you try to suggest something bad about me again. Leave, I want you to leave my apartment and never come back. We´re done"

"I do not want to. You are my girlfriend and you have to reciprocate as such”

“You have three seconds to leave my house or I will overreact, don't try me"

With a big slam on the door and a kick to the plant that you had in the hall it was like your now ex-boyfriend had decided to leave a last impression, you didn't even know when you started crying, by the time you realized you were in the couch lamenting the last year you had wasted on someone like him.

"Hello?"

The loud music was the first thing you heard "Rosie, where are you?"

"Wait, I don't hear you, let me... Ok, I'm sorry, what happened?"

“Rose? Hello, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, where are you?

“I went out with some friends, hey, you don't sound yourself well, what happened? You're hurt?"

more crying

"He came to my house and we discussed, we broke up"

“Love… Are you still at home? Oh, don't cry, breathe. I'm a little far away right now, but I'll be there soon, okay? Wait for me, I'll be there in forty minutes, okay?"

You tried to stay calm as Rose arrived, but the room just felt smaller and you couldn't stop thinking about your now ex-boyfriend, how you had the first dates on the same couch you were crying on now, the times you cooked for him in your small kitchen and the "good" nights in your room. You didn't know when it happened but by the time you realized you were sitting at the stairs of your building, you only reacted when you saw Rose get out of her car.

It was obvious that she had gone clubbing, the mini dress and the heavy makeup suited her perfectly, you almost felt bad for making her come here.

“My love, what are you doing out here? Oh come here, come here, let me hold you.” Her arms were around you, your body shaking as you cried for having to feel this way about someone you knew wasn't worth it.

"I really don't wanna be here" you said still in Rose's arms

"Okay, we'll go to my apartment, we'll have a sleepover, you and me. How does that sound?"

By the time you got to the blonde's apartment and calmed yourself down, you thought if it was a good idea to bother in that way, although you both had become close quickly, being in each other's space was a line you hadn't crossed yet. You hadn't thought about what Rose's house was like, but for some reason everything seemed to fit her, everything looked elegant and simple although strangely more colorful than you thought, everything here belonged to her and that comforted you somehow.

“When I have a bad day, I normally take a shower and go to bed to watch TV. How about you take a bath, while I prepare something for both of us to have for dinner, okay?”

An hour later you and Rose were in her bed watching some Netflix show while having some sandwiches for dinner, the pajamas she lent you soft against your skin and the perfect room temperature, everything seemed fine, which for some reason it made you feel worse, starting to cry again. .

“Come here darling, come. It's okay, you can cry "

“He didn't even ask how I was. He just showed up expecting something from me. He used to be a gentleman at first, I don't understand when that changed "

“Sometimes I felt I owed him something when we got into bed”

"He didn't like that I was doing my master"

"He left me alone at the first party we went together because he prefer to chat with his friends"

"He didn't even make me cum"

And you continued for part of the night, Rose just listened to you while she held you in her arms, you cried as much as your body allowed you while continuing with the new unresolved complaints you had and hadn't realized until that moment.

The breakup was harder than you thought, the days were getting really long and you seemed cold all the time, you had locked yourself in at work and school, you were drinking again just because until the beers ran out was when you went to sleep, just to repeat the routine again. You couldn't handle it anymore when your mother called one day asking about him, she didn't even give you time to break the news when she dropped the bombshell that your cousin was getting married and it would be good if you both went to the wedding "It's a good opportunity to introduce him to the family, he is a good boy”

Rose did her best to keep you company as much as she could, calling you between her breaks to make sure you were eating, picking you up from school or work if there was time, but after a couple of days you stopped answering her messages and it was more than obvious that you were avoiding her, you were being ungrateful and a bad friend, you were aware of it and although you had a way to justify it you needed time to find the best way to talk about it.

That night Rose had left your apartment after making you eat something more than take out, one part told you that the best thing you could do for yourself was to wash yourself and go to bed, however you ended up in the nearest store and bought the pack of beers you had been drinking for the last few weeks.

A pretty girl approached you while you were watching the snacks, a few centimeters taller than you, maybe because of the heels she was wearing, short black hair so neat that it looks like she went to the salon before, the outfit was just the cherry on the cake, all too chic and extravagant for you. At first you thought you were blocking her view so you moved but she just stared at you without saying anything and to be honest it was starting to make you uncomfortable.

"You need something?"

"You Know Rose"

"Who asks?"

“I am his ex-girlfriend. It's just…you're wearing her coat" she said smiling kindly "It was my birthday present to her"

You don't really know how it happened but next thing, the two of you ended up sitting in a park drinking and eating while talking about your friend.

"May I ask why you broke up?"

“We just couldn't be together anymore. I began to demand a lot from Rose, I behaved spoiled and possessively and that led us to not have something healthy, so we decided to end it. We tried a lot before that, you know? We went to couples therapy, we went on trips, we even bought a fish as if the poor thing was going to help. But nothing worked, so we ended it "

"How long ago did it happen?"

“Almost five months. I haven't talked to her since then. My friends told me she had started seeing someone new and I didn't want to believe it until I saw the pictures of you and her having dinner”

The statement surprised you so much that if you had been drinking at the time you probably would have choked on your drink.

"No. Rosie is my friend, we met… About five months ago. I was in a bad relationship with my that time boyfriend, she helped me a lot and she is doing it now that I broke up with him”

“She is a good person and a good girlfriend. To be honest I was a little jealous that she was out partying with cute girls while I was crying at home. That also became a problem in our relationship, sometimes we argued a lot and it was easier for her to go to a party and not answer the phone than come home, but I don't blame her, we would probably end up fighting even more "

You didn't know what to think or say, here was your friend's ex-girlfriend talking to you as close mates, even though it bothered you a little, you felt sorry for the black-haired woman and how she probably hadn't talked about this. Before you could say anything, her voice cut you off

“Listen, I still love Rosie and God knows I'm doing my best to get better so I can get her back in the future, but I also know when to keep my place. Bad for both of us, I know her well enough to know when she's into someone, if it's you or not, it's up to her. But while we are in doubt I tell you that I will do what I can to have the opportunity to be by her side again "

The morning before the world seemed a little lighter, you weren't so cold and although you never drank coffee, it was your choice for breakfast. It had been almost two months since your last relationship had ended, you were getting over it little by little in your own way, that included enough time for yourself and therapy, it had been almost two weeks since you spoke with Rose, after the small talk that her ex and you had, several pieces fell into place and you knew that staying away from the blonde girl would be the best thing you could do.

“Dear Rosie, I am so sorry I have avoided you these past few days, you have been nothing but a great friend and support to me. Right now what I need is time. A few days ago I was able to talk with a person who made me realize that working on myself is the best option. Thank you for all your time and love, please just put our friendship on hold for now, I promise to come back soon so I can offer you the friend you deserve to have.”

Rose had responded with a simple dot, and knowing that you now at least had one aspect of your life under control gave you the strength to get on with your to-do list.

You got rid of your ex's trash, the beers and the snacks, you cleaned the house and finally made the pantry, you returned to your work rhythm and your grades improved, you recovered your life little by little.

Today you feel ready, you would go out clubbing on your own, it wasn't the first time you did it but after a while the idea made you anxious. Everything was going well, you had found a good place at the bar even though you weren't drinking, the music was good and the atmosphere too, everything was going well until you saw Rose in the club, she was wearing the same dress as the night she was to your house, she looked beautiful as always.

“Is this seat taken?”

The little deja vu makes you laugh, you feel light and secure with Rose next to you, the cliche of being just the two of you even in a crowded room makes you want to hide your face behind your hands and giggle like a teenager.

The night had passed as you never stop seeing each other, you talk and laugh like you always did, the drinks started to appear and at some point you both were dancing on the dancefloor. The multicolored lights, the loud music, the little amount of alcohol in your system was enough for make you feel happily dizzy as much as Rose could

You don't know exactly how Rose and you end up sitting in a park at four a.m, you just were happy to be there with her, feeling the best you had been this past few weeks, it just felt right.

“Suzy told me about the little meeting you had” oh “ You aren't mad at me, right?”

“What? No, no, what are you talking about, Rosie?”

“It's just, you know… I didn't told you about me”

“Isn't like it's something you need to inform people, isn't a big deal either, nothing chance the way I feel about you”

“That night- Rosie started- I thought you were really beautiful, and it was kinda sad knowing you were there all alone. Back then when Suzy and I broke up for the first time, I didn't realize how awful and destructive the situacion was or could get until months passed and suddenly everything was about who could scream louder and one night we just reached our breaking point. She was wearing a night dress when we had our little chat about taking time and I couldn't handle the feeling that you probably felt the same way she did back then. And we started to be closer with each other and I finally had this feeling after months of what a healthy relationship must be… and then I just realized how much I like you. I'm not asking you something, just want to tell you”

When you were younger, you dated Kim Ji Hoo for two months. She was your classmate at the academy you used to go; one of the prettiest girl you have ever see at your short age, she was quit, taller than you, bigger than you, and older than you (just by a year) she treated you like a friend instead of someone younger, she always took care of you and when you held hands for the first time you knew you like Ji Hoo unnie.

Your gay crisis just last four months after searching for people who felt just like you, crying a bit and tell you mom about your feelings a lotta things did make sense and you felt lighter, but not ready to confess they way you felt just yet

One night after the academy Ji Hoo and you went for something to eat, you ended up kissing and your day one started at that moment. Your relationship just lasted five months after Ji Hoo had to occupy her time getting ready for college.

“I don't know if my feelings for you are romantic or not, Rosie, but I'm willing to find out, for me and us.”

Rose smiled big before hugging you, the little kiss on your head making you feel the happiest you've felt lately.

If you would like to buy me a coffee to be able to drink between my classes I would really appreciate it, thank you!

#blackpink reactions #rose scenarios #blackpink rose #music #fanfic #gxg fluff #gxg imagine #blackpink fanfic #rose #roseanne park

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mangozcat · 2 years

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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. park jisung x fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff, heavy angst 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. in which the boy you’ve fallen head over heels for, goes tragically missing for two years without an ounce of contact. 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. this is probably my favorite fic ever. it hits closer to home than any of my other fics ever will. honestly, since the idea came to me, I’ve been determined to perfect it as much as I can. I wanted to take my time and make sure it was written just how I imagined it to be. i hope you enjoy this piece!

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 10,605

— arcade by duncan laurence now playing — photograph by ed sheeran now playing

when park jisung disappeared, you were heartbroken.

you could almost- no, not almost, you definitely could remember every detail of that day. it was raining, a somewhat solemn day out. the sun was gone behind the clouds, hidden by a pitch black curtain of dark sky.

you had made coffee four different times that day, finding it hard to stay awake with the raging thunder and the occasional sudden, shocking burst of electricity through the sky. you were dressed in a big sweater- one that belonged to the boy with gleaming blonde hair- and a pair of loose sweatpants.

your apartment was dark that day. the power was consistently flickering on and off, forcing you to inevitably just resort to keeping every light in the house off. you had a single, cherry scented candle lit brightly, set atop your kitchen counter and dimly lighting the room.

you were comfortable here, this was your home, but something felt strange about the newfound aching sense of loneliness that came with having an empty- and sickeningly dark- apartment. in fact, your anxiety had grown terribly at the feeling, almost making you jump out of your skin at each bellowing clap of thunder outside.

if you were to ever glance outside your window- which you did once and regretted it, feeling your stomach immediately drop- you’d be a firsthand witness to how empty your city felt. almost every light in town was out due to the storm and all you could see was a dim, already dying light close to the horizon. it was alive all of five minutes before it, too, shut off. it was far out and honestly, you didn’t expect it to hit you as hard as it did.

the way you almost caved in on yourself instantly, seeing the world outside your window seem to shut off as if it was living via an on and off switch, you felt somewhat pathetic.

typically, you loved storms. storms felt like home to you. they brought chaos during their massacre and peace in their wake. it felt oddly similar to a person, almost. storms were bittersweet for you. you were almost always forced to be on edge when you heard they were approaching, and the weather forecast always had you somewhat fearful.

yet, you found it easiest to sleep during a storm. you could curl up on the couch and listen to the dull tap of rain on your windows, hearing the sound of thunder fade out of your ears, before you were long asleep.

but, at the same time, you always had him to ride out the storm with you. it was like jisung had a radar built into the back of his mind for storms. every time one was approaching- whether it be predicted on the news or a totally unexpected and sudden storm- he always appeared at your apartment.

sometimes his hair would be damp and his clothes slightly wet because he realized it late and had to hurry his way over. other times, he’d tell you to meet him at a cozy little coffee shop that smelled of pumpkin and biscuits. then, whenever he figured the two of you would make it back in time, he’d hurry you out of the cafe at the perfect time, managing to make it back to your room just as the first drop of water hit the grass.

you weren’t even sure why he did it. storms never bothered you and you never told him they did; so why did he appear every time? it wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate his efforts. you found him cute and it was incredibly sweet how he never missed a single day where he wasn’t bundled up under the covers of your bed, cuddling you while humming a sweet tune under his breath.

you just found it odd. it seemed to be instinctive to him, to never leave you alone when a sort of crisis was going on in the world. was this storm a crisis? no, not exactly. but yet, it still felt terribly frightening.

and you weren’t at all surprised when the boy appeared at your front door. he was soaked head to toe from the drenching rain outside, the small umbrella in his hands having done little to protect him. he had a bag of clothes in his hands- probably having known he’d more than likely have to stay over with the severity of this storm- and when you saw his face; god, his beautiful, pretty face.

his hair was stuck to his forehead, some small little tendrils dripping a few crystal clear tears of water that slid down his face. his eyes were squinted due to the rain, but they still held that sweet, gentle gleam within them. his lips were plump and they seemed to be red from his biting and tugging at them. his nose was red at the tip and you assumed it was because of the cold, just as his cheeks were rosy.

that day, he had pushed right past you after sending you a dazzling grin. heading straight for your bedroom, he quickly shed himself of his wet clothes, tossing his shirt onto your sofa, before coming back out a few minutes later. dressed in completely dry clothes, he came to rest by your candle with a blanket resting over his shoulders.

you were nowhere to be seen, having taken his shirt to your laundry room so you could hang it up so it could potentially have the slim chance of getting dry. when you returned, jisung was raiding your fridge, his hands quickly grabbing an array of items before placing them on the counter and starting to prepare something to eat. he had two earbuds tucked into his ears, humming along to the tune as he slid across your somewhat illuminated kitchen.

truth be told, when the storm rolled over the city, jisung knew he needed to be with you. ever since he met you, he had this want- no, a need, to protect you. considering how stormy your area often was, added onto the fact that he lived a mere 10 minutes away, only helped to fulfill his fantasy of being your knight in shining armor.-

as soon as the rain hit his window, he was gathering his things and rushing out the door. he forgot his keys the first time in his rush, having to come back into his apartment to grab them before heading off towards yours. this was your ritual and it had been since the two of you met: go to school, hang out, hang out some more, and for jisung to magically appear at your aid the second something went down.

“are you a mind reader?” you had asked him once. considering how many events he’d shown up to now (one being a false alarm but you were still surprised at how he was there regardless), you were beginning to get curious of the blonde-haired pretty boy. jisung had only laughed at your question, shaking his head. he blamed it all on coincidence, but honestly, that one part of your brain that chose to not believe him left you wondering about him all month long.

“I don’t like how it looks,” you murmured.

staring out at the landscape beyond the glass, you wondered how long this would last. the darkness was killing you, but having jisung here with you provided some comfort that calmed you rapid heart. while the darkness made you feel alone and at risk, the feel of his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back into him reminded you; you were far from alone and you were perfectly safe in his arms. jisung’s finger reached to trace a shape on the window, and you could see the faint outline of a big, lopsided heart resting atop the glass.

this was his way of reassuring you. jisung was never one for many words. if anything, he was more the type to softly hum and just nod and smile. he rarely spoke much, even to you. he was always there, a comforting, silent presence, but a silent one all the same.

he showed his concern subtly.

his emotions were more expressed through actions than through speeches and confessions. you knew him well enough to understand that when he wrapped his arms around your waist, just as he was doing now, that he was silently telling you that everything would be alright- and if it wasn’t, the two of you would fight it together.

you had managed to tear your gaze away from the window, turning in his arms. wrapping your arms around his torso, you stared up into his eyes. jisung rubbed comforting circles into your back, sending you a small smile before his face fell back into his typical resting look.

he always looked relaxed. you loved when jisung smiled at you, but you found this look to suit him more. just relaxed and carefree, his lips loose, neither smiling nor frowning. and this way, with his face constantly seeming to be stuck in the in-between, it made the smiles you did receive so much sweeter.

“thank you, ji.” burying your face into his chest, you inhaled his scent. somehow, jisung always managed to smell like pine. it wasn’t strong, merely a subtle aroma in the air, but you knew it was him. it was relaxing to breathe him in, and you found it easy to fall into a gentle rhythm of breathing when with him: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

jisung sent you a dazzling smile, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. mumbling about how you were going to start a fire, he pulled away from your embrace- to which you almost whined at the loss of his warmth- to shuffle towards the candle. extinguishing the harsh flame, he came back over towards you. the thunder was dulled out now that he was here, grabbing for your hand and tugging you towards your bedroom for sleep.

if anyone were to ever see the two of you, they’d suspect he was your boyfriend. your neighbors had mentioned before about how they found it cute that he’d sneak to your apartment at night. on several occasions did jisung overhear them when you stepped outside and onto the overlooking balcony, only sending them a curt smile and wrapping his arms around your waist to tug you away.

little did they know he had an entire drawer of your dresser dedicated to him. his clothes, his body spray, some of his shoes. anything he had brought over for a sleepover was in that drawer. at first, you had put everything in his car for him to take home. then, as your friendship progressed, you started leaving the stuff scattered around your room. then, inevitably, you began washing his clothes and folding them up neatly. even now, his shoes shared a spot beside yours near your front door.

it was as if jisung lived with you, and in a sense, he did. your home was just as much his as it was yours, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

when he sat on the bed, tugging you down and prompting you to fall into his embrace, you had never felt so comforted before. nothing about the day seemed off. not with jisung’s warm breath fanning your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your stomach, one of his legs forced between yours as your limbs tangled together messily. you always chose to lay facing him. he was so pretty when he was drifting off to sleep, his hair falling in his eyes and his breathing eventually becoming even and gentle. you loved to stare at him when he was sleeping, and the image of his face always lured you into a sweet slumber.

though, it was his voice that put you to sleep. soft yet deep, somewhat husky as he felt drowsiness wash over him, he managed to murmur, “good night, angel.” the nickname always made you smile, even sleepily, as you gently tugged on his shirt, pulling yourself as near to him as you could. resting his chin atop your head, you buried your face in his chest, your hair splaying out on the pillow beneath you. soon, soft snores filled the room both of you.

it was around 9 when you woke up, struggling to force yourself out of jisung’s embrace. he almost made you want to go back to sleep, but with the storm having rolled over, you figured it was time to take advantage of having your power back. however, jisung was bigger than you in every way possible and with his hands on your hips, locked into place, you were struggling to move. all you could do was breathe in his scent, gently inhaling the cologne that stuck to his clothes and was slowly drifting away by now.

“stay a ‘lil bit longer,” jisung mumbled into your hair. you glanced up, finding his eyes still closed. his hair was randomly sticking up in different spots, causing you to lift one of your hands from under his arms- to which he lifted them sleepily for you- and bury them into his hair. massaging your fingers against the skin and soft locks that was there, you smiled when he hummed gently at the sensation.

“I will,” you replied to him.

he forced an eye open, looking you with a sweet, although sleepy, gaze. putting his lips to your forehead, he pressed a soft, barely even felt, kiss to your temple. from there, his lips danced down the side of your face, coming to a halt once he kissed your cheek.

for a good last measure, he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile and pull him closer. tucking your head into the crook of his neck, you returned his efforts with a single kiss to the skin. he chuckled at that, and you could feel the vibrations against you from the distance- lackthereof- between the two of you.

“go back to sleep,” jisung said, looking like he was ready to pass out himself. you hummed, wrapping your hand around his bicep and resting your arm atop his. nodding to yourself, you figured five more minutes couldn’t hurt.

being an early bird, you found it easy to wake up every morning. once you were awake, you were awake. going back to sleep was a habit you broke when you were a child. you loved being able to take a shower early in the morning and have time to get ready for school.

but then you also enjoyed being able to make breakfast every morning, and sometimes venture outside to witness the blossoming sunset breaking through the horizon. your mother always taught you that it was important to value every single day you were on this earth.

when you were younger, she made sure that you did just that: letting you go out to parties, spend the weekend with friends, go out and sight see. your mother was the best person you knew, and you appreciated everything she did for you- everything she taught you.

however, minutes soon turned to hours, and hours became hibernation. the figure you were holding onto merely pressed a kiss to your hair before his warmth was gone from beside you. with a pillow stuffed between your arms to make up for the lack of his presence, you had only shifted a little bit, whining before falling back into your slumber.

jisung thought that was cute at the time. reaching over to grab his car keys from your bedstand, he slid his shoes on before leaving the apartment. really, this was just morning ritual for you. so why was today any different?

when you woke for the final time that morning, you weren’t at all surprised to find him gone. he was never here when you woke up. on those rare days when he had nothing to do (which wasn’t often considering he was a college student that worked a job and volunteered for different causes all over town), you’d find yourself tucked under his arm as the two of you watched a movie together; cuddled as close as possible, the blanket wrapped around the both of you, limbs intertwined.

but, you were never phased by his disappearance. you knew he’d be back later that same day. it was as if the two of you were roommates. he’d spend every morning at school and part of the afternoon at work, then he’d pick up food for you as he headed to your apartment, which is where he’d spend the night. it was an unspoken ritual between you.

walking lazily into the kitchen, a soft smile graced your face once you saw a sticky note stuck to your typically clean counter. a single earbud lay atop it, one of the ones he had been listening to music in while making food the previous day. still dressed in his hoodie, you tucked your hands into the pockets before wandering over, looking down to read the sticky note before a grin took over your features.

“just a reason to come back, angel.”

signed with a pretty little heart and his beautiful, neat handwriting, you felt yet another hint of promise behind his words. you were excited, looking forward to the next day- or maybe even a few hours later, when he was sure to return to your arms.

but he didn’t.

park jisung never returned the next day, or the day after that, or any of the following days. his work called you after several unsuccessful tries of calling him, unhappy to hear that you knew just as much as them. the school was beginning to get concerned about him, choosing to bring his parents into the situation.

the adoption center for disabled kids- the place jisung volunteered- was terribly sad to hear that one of their favorite people had disappeared. but none of them could compare to your pain. your best friend, the one you were constantly reminded of every time you looked around your home, was gone. and the worst part was, he never mentioned a single word to anyone before he up and left.

you called the police after the first following storm hit. jisung wasn’t there to comfort you or wordlessly join you in bed. he wasn’t there to kiss your face ever so softly. he wasn’t there to cuddle you anymore. you knew something had to be wrong.

jisung never missed a storm, paired on top of being MIA for several weeks now. the police did instill a search party and speak to each of his well-known friends, including you. but in all honesty, you were breaking. it was hard to talk through the tears, or do anything other than stare blankly at a wall, hoping to drown out the feelings.

but it had been two years. park jisung was, by this point, assumed dead. and there was nothing you could do about it other than hold onto his single earbud and stare out the window of your apartment- just painfully awaiting another storm.

“what should we watch?” renjun murmured tiredly, running his fingers through your hair. both of you were resting on your couch in your apartment, eyes up on the tv screen as you searched for a distraction.

two years wasn’t enough for you, not with every little piece of him still scattered within your home. it was hard to move on, hard to forget him. jisung had such an impact on your life and it was hard- on the verge of impossible- to make it through every day after his disappearance.

while you desperately wished for life to stop in order to accommodate you, it never did. strangers still walked the streets, eyes glued to their phone. stores never shut down- in fact, they were booming with business. you still had to go to school and the days passed as slow as ever. yet, when you looked back, you realized they passed by quickly.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, resting your head on your brother’s chest.

renjun had felt terrible for you when he heard the news. he’d only met the boy once, but he could see the sparkle in your eye when you were with him. he ended up becoming concerned for your well being when he saw you the first time after jisung’s departure. sickeningly pale with bags under your eyes, a bit skinnier than you were before; renjun knew you needed him.

one day, he just showed up to your apartment with a suitcase, telling you that he was now your roommate. you didn’t fight with him, seeing as you had little energy. renjun made sure you took care of yourself when he was there, and he was also your brother, and you were grateful to have him with you when you needed him most.

renjun sighed, tugging you closer to hug you gently. you were a shell of who you once were and both of you knew it. he sent you a cozy little smile that warmed your heart slightly. pulling away from your brother, you glanced over at the tv and grabbed the remote from him. putting on a show you watched a child- one that brought you an odd sense of short-lived comfort- a gentle smile tugged at the edges of your lips. safe in your brother’s arms, you slowly let yourself drift into a content state you weren’t used to being in.

ever since jisung disappeared, you were constantly on edge. every little sound made you jump. you eagerly hoped, somewhere in the back of your mind, that it would be him causing the sound. while you used to enjoy storms, you now always struggled to stay sane when they hit.

it was as if anxiety struck you like harsh lightning, and every breath was harder and harder to inhale. they no longer brought you comfort. they brought the aroma of coffee and cookies from your favorite cafe, and they brought memories of a boy to never be forgotten. instead of falling asleep during the storms, you could hardly rest. your brother had began worrying about you, questioning if you needed to see a therapist, when he saw the bags under your eyes.

not a day went by where you didn’t think of him. you imagined him coming up behind you, whispering into your ear about how he had a great adventure, and was happy to be home. some days you’d even picture him walking through the door, acting as if never ever happened and your lives could just continue as they were. none of those fantasies ever became real, of course, but they gave you some hope for the future. memories of jisung swarmed your head, and it was hard to focus with how everything reminded you of him.

“shhh,” jisung hissed quietly, a finger coming to rest over his lips. with your hands together, he tugged you, running through the field until you came to a flowering meadow. “c’mon, we can sit here.”

jisung sent you a dashing smile, one so pretty it took the breath out of you. he was so enchanting, and you were so far under his spell it’d be impossible to free yourself. nodding slightly, you took a seat, leaning your head back against the grass.

staring up at the sky, you couldn’t help but smile.

jisung was mindlessly murmuring on and on about about each star, pointing his fingers up at the sky. however, the sound of his voice was drowned out against the peace, and the way you were so incredibly focused on the warmth of his hand.

he was still holding your hand, despite being so distracted by the sky. the darkness surrounded the both of you, only getting a flitter of light from the stars and a distant streetlight.

this wasn’t your property, and you were more than sure you were trespassing. typical you would be scared. typical you would be disgusted and frightened at the idea of trespassing. typical you would be running for the hills right now, scared of being caught.

but when you were with jisung, you weren’t the typical you. jisung brought out the life in you. he gave you confidence, excited you, and made you feel nothing short of alive.

“what are you thinking of?” jisung murmured. he flipped himself over, coming to hover above you, using his elbows to hold his weight. you felt caged under him, but it was a good kind of caged- one that had you tugging him closer to you.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, staring at his face. “this place is just really pretty,” you said, sending him a beaming smile.

jisung nodded, “yeah, it’s really special, huh?” he glanced up at the sky, before quickly returning his gaze to you. he swept down and pressed a hurried kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “but still not as pretty as you, angel.”

you tugged him closer, hugging him close. you’d have to leave soon to avoid getting caught by the property owners. yet, you still remained in his arms, content.

jisung buried his head in your neck, and the two of you were left basking in each other.

it was the little things that haunted you. the cologne bottle laying on your dresser, his favorite hoodie, that was hung up in your closet. a pair of his shoes still sat by your door, waiting for their owner to return and wear them again. the cherry candle was still on your kitchen counter, untouched from when he put it out on the night of the storm. he still had a show on your netflix, the “continue watching” button ringing in your mind.

you didn’t know if he’d ever return. no one believed he would, and a funeral had already been hosted for the boy. you didn’t attend, too heartbroken- but also determined to believe that he wasn’t gone. your resolve was strong, and at first, you truthfully believed he was still alive.

every day, you’d make two cups of coffee. one would sit on your counter, not a single sip taken. you had it sitting there, waiting for jisung to return. he’d be thirsty and tired when he got home, so the coffee would be perfect for him. the two of you could chat while he drank it, catching up and returning to your previous relationship.

then, over time, the amount of coffee in the cup got lower and lower. you only made enough for yourself, and the cup remained in your kitchen cabinet. you were losing hope, and everything that reminded you of him, merely brought back the pain of realization. your jisung was gone, disappeared without a trace. he reminded you of the cold chill of wind- both sweet and sour, and you miss it when the day turns hot.

“what do you want to eat?” renjun asked suddenly. you glanced over at your brother, observing him quietly. he looks utterly exhausted, drifting slowly into sleep as the tv dulled in the background. “I can go and get something.” you felt bad. after all, he spent countless nights waking up to you crying after a nightmare, and he had taken over the role of caretaker in your life. it meant a lot to you, and you knew it wasn’t an easy feat.

you were nothing if not a needy mess. ever since jisung’s disappearance, you stopped caring for yourself, too caught up in the pain. two years may be a long time, but the suffering never ended, and the wick’s flame was never reignited. you tried to get back into your usual activities: volunteering, schoolwork, you even tried to get a real job. after awhile, it became too difficult, and you dropped out of school and quit your job.

“you should rest,” you said quietly. releasing yourself from his grasp, you patted down your clothes and yawned. running a finger through your hair, you wandered towards the kitchen, aware of the eyes following you. “I’ll make us something.”

renjun was too tired to argue, and he found himself snoring moments later. it was raining outside, a sweet lull filling the room, caused by the tapping of water on glass. as you grabbed food out of the fridge, an image of jisung popped into your head.

he always did the cooking.

you did laundry and you cleaned, but he was particularly good at making the food. it was like your unspoken roles. he’d head over to your house after school, toss his jacket on the sofa, give you a hug, and then he’d wander into the kitchen. he always made the best food, and you remember how his cheeks went rosy every time you complimented his skills.

renjun reminded you of jisung.

you smiled, a glossy fog coming over your eyes at the memory. you sniffed quietly, wiping at your eyes. you missed him. but he would want you to be strong right now. “be strong for me,” you could almost hear him whisper comfortingly. the thought soothed you, and you made your food silently, leaving some on the table for renjun to eat when he woke up.

heading towards your room, you buried yourself in the covers, restlessly tossing and turning. ever since jisung left, sleeping had become a burden to you. you knew you needed sleep, but you feared it. once you closed your eyes, you were allowing yourself to think of all the things you regretted in the past, every mistake you ever made, and to reminisce. every time you slept, you dreamed. but they weren’t dreams, they were nightmares.

each one ended the same; jisung lying beside you, his touch slowly fading as he drifted away. he’d always just smile, a smile that you loved- adored- and brought nothing but warmth. now, all it brought was pain and the empty reminder that he wasn’t with you anymore.

waking from a sweet slumber, a mid-day nap, you felt as refreshed as you could. your body ached, you felt drowsy- the type of drowsy someone feels after getting too much sleep. your mind was a racing rollercoaster on the verge of running right off the tracks.

you found yourself in the same routine everyday; wake up, lay in bed and stare at the ceiling until you finally got uncomfortable under the covers, sit up an hour later, and then cry to yourself in the bathroom. the crying often made you tired enough to sleep again, but you finally felt like your tears had run dry.

lifting your hair into a small clip, you held it up long enough to keep it out of your face and wander over to your door. “jun,” you called out, walking into the living room. “are you here?”

glancing around, you peeked into the guest bedroom- the one that had been renjun’s room-

you were regretful, to say the least.

standing in the grocery store, you stared blankly at the aisles. you didn’t handle social interaction very well. when jisung was with you, he never allowed you the time to think of the other busy bodies around you. he made every moment as if it was just the two of you. that was what you needed- desperately needed right now.

maybe you weren’t ready for this step yet.

it was always a big deal, acceptance. grieving was the easy part. coming to terms with the fact that someone you cared for was suddenly gone, was the hardest step of them all. you had to learn how to live life without them. if they were the one that inspired you to do better, would you continue to be that better version of yourself, even though they were gone? if they helped to make you strong, would you still remain strong without them? jisung brought out the life in you, he showed the world a side of you that you didn’t even know you had. what happens to that side of you now that he’s gone?

it’s these questions that makes someone wonder. genuinely wonder. they realize how drastic their situation is, and they begin to panic. they feel the walls collapsing, pushing in on them. boxed in, almost as if they’ve been put into a cage.

you’d felt this way since the day he left; like a bird, its wings cut off, and trapped in a metal box. the box was continuously getting smaller and one day, you were going to suffocate, confined by chains.

“you can do this,” renjun murmured quietly. renjun wasn’t sure if you could, but he wanted to remain hopeful. staring at your features, he noted the ways your eyes held such heartache, clouding your crystal-clear irises. you had bags underneath your eyes, dark spots swallowing the life that remained within you. your skin was paler than he remembered, and you reminded him of a stick figure, a skinny collection of mass and bones.

“I don’t think I can, jun.” you said.

the back of your throat was burning. swallowing was getting gradually more and more difficult. a thick lump formed in the back of your throat. that caged feeling was returning. even though you were in probably the biggest area you’d been in for months, you felt more trapped than you ever would’ve if you were in your own apartment.

“hey,” renjun said, forcing you to meet his gaze. he pulled you into a gentle hug. hiding your face in his chest, you breathed in the soft aroma he carried with him; mint and chocolate. it was strange, considering renjun never ate chocolate and you rarely ever seen him show interest in anything mint related. but it was him- the sweet, comforting scent of your brother. “you’re gonna be okay. I’m here.”

he didn’t say much, only rocking you back and forth in his arms.

you were sure it looked strange to others in the store. for two siblings to be hugging, shielding the other from the prying eyes of the world. you couldn’t see them, though, and you couldn’t feel their eyes burning holes into the back of her neck. instead, all you could feel was the warmth of your brother- your sweet, sweet brother.

and then it all hit you, tears flooding your eyes. renjun only tightened his grip on you, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I can’t do this,” you cried quietly. sobs left your lips and your body shook, your knees weakening. “please don’t make me do this...”

renjun hushed you, “I won’t.”

he didn’t know what to do.

you were emotionally unstable; a chaotic beauty. renjun saw you as fragile, something that could be easily broken if one thing went wrong. as of now, he could see the faint tears and cracks, starting to ripple through your hard and delicate surface.

that night, you ended up waiting in the car as renjun shopped for groceries.

it was strangely foreign. leaving your apartment was rare. you tried your best to stay indoors, afraid of the world. if it had stolen jisung away from you, what would it do to you? he was the bravest, strongest, sweetest boy you’d ever met. you weren’t anywhere near his perfection, and the world would surely ravage you.

watching the flickering lights, some reflecting off the glass, you could see a faint reflection of yourself. you looked sickly, like a completely different person. the person staring back at you wasn’t you, she wasn’t the girl you’d grown up to become. instead, she was a girl caught up in the past, lost in distant memories.

averting your eyes from the window, you curled up on yourself, resting your chin on your knees.

“tell me a secret,” jisung murmured into your ear.

the two of you were slightly drunk, a sweet buzz in your head. you giggled mindlessly, showing him a toothy grin, hugging him closer to your side. with his arm thrown over your shoulder, there was little space left between you.

“well,” you said, staring up at the sky. you both decided on walking home, neither trusting in their abilities to drive while drunk. “when I was little...” you suddenly stopped, turning and standing on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I stole my moms’ money from her purse.”

jisung clicked his tongue, obviously disappointed, “wow, a true baddie.”

you chuckled, sending him a sideways smile.

“okay, I have a real one,” you said, putting a finger in front of your lips, “but I’ll only tell you if you tell me one of yours.”

jisung grinned, “of course.”

he had a beaming smile, one that lit up your entire galaxy. he was every single star and more, so much more than you ever expected. he was like a dream, someone you imagined out of thin air.

it was contagious, somewhat forcing you to smile too.

“promise?” you said, dropping your tone to a whisper. you showed him your pinkie finger, extending it to him. he gave you a cocky smirk, and in that moment, he looked like one of those boys from the movies. the one with the special smile, the one that had stars sparkling on his teeth.

he took your finger, shaking it slowly.

“I promise.”

you couldn’t remember what you told him that day. all you know is that it made him beam for the rest of the night, a certain subtle happiness showing in every action he performed.

you were grateful to past you for being so brave that night.

even with your heart racing out of your chest, and an intense feeling of hesitance creeping up on you. that’s what you needed right now; bravery. you needed to be brave, to be confident- you needed to be the person he became friends with. you needed to be the person he brought out in you.

however, your resolve was quick to come crashing down because you realized something else.

you need jisung.

it was as if a switch had been lifted in your brain. you were becoming irritable, constantly mad. every night you’d wake up from a nightmare, tears streaming down your cheeks. they’d make you mad, make you feel useless- like you were nothing without him.

renjun would always wake up from his slumber to comfort you, sometimes losing hours of valuable sleep at a time.

you wished it wasn’t true, but you were becoming a burden. of course, being a burden was only more fuel to the flames.

one day, you lashed out. you could see the effect of your own unhappiness reflected on your brother’s face; the way he was a lot more heartbroken, the way he had bags under his pretty eyes, the way he’d sometimes curl up under his covers, trying to hide from his new responsibilities.

“it’s okay,” renjun said, running his fingers through your hair soothingly.

“it’s not fine!” you suddenly yelled out. tears threatened to escape your eyes. everything was beginning to overwhelm you- though it had been for months- and it was finally having a serious, detrimental effect on your mental health. “I’m not fine...”

as you collapsed into your brothers’ arms, you wept sadly. you felt the quickening pace of his heart against your ear and you cried. you cried for so long that it was beginning to hurt. you choked on sobs, your stomach was tightening in certain spots, and it felt as if you’d just done an hour long ab workout.

on top of the physical pain, you were a mess emotionally. your mind was running rampant with unsaid thoughts, distant memories, and dreams of a hopeful future. then, suddenly, those dreams would become nightmares and you’d realize: jisung had inadvertently ruined you.

he ruined you with his level of perfection. the boy was far too amazing and you were far too blessed to be his friend. the way he was always beautiful, whether he just woke up or was all dressed up for a party. the way he was always kind and patient, even if you pressed too far and became a subtle annoyance. the way he never pressured you into doing anything. the way he was always there for you like no one else was.

jisung was just the embodiment of perfection- yet, he clearly wasn’t, because someone so perfect wouldn’t up and leave. they wouldn’t abandon the one person that cares about them most, and they wouldn’t lead someone astray the way he did.

“It hurts so much, jun,” you cried quietly, your words on the verge of a whisper. he strained to hear you, a frown settling over his lips once he caught onto your words.

he nodded, squeezing your hand in the most reassuring way he possibly could, “it gets better.”

“when?” you murmur, “when I’m dead? when I fall asleep? I know that one isn’t true because I dream of him, jun. I see his face in my nightmares and I see him in my dreams. both of them... they cause so much pain.”

renjun sighed heavily. he’d never experienced such heartache, and this was clearly out of his field of expertise. he wanted to comfort you but he wasn’t quite sure what to do or say. all he could manage was a few words of what he’d heard in his life before: pain goes away in time, suffering comes to an end, things get better.

yet, he wasn’t quite sure who he was trying to convince more, you or him?

“I hate this,” you say quitely, “I hate him for what he caused and I hate him for leaving me. I hate him for breaking my heart, jun.”

you look over at renjun, leaning your head up and away from his chest.

“I hate him.”

you tried to convince yourself that you hated jisung.

you tried desperately to blame everything on him. all the pain, the suffering, the grief, the pure devastation. you wanted someone to blame that wasn’t yourself and you found the perfect opportunity: the boy that you would probably never see again.

where was the harm in painting a negative image of someone that was absent? if they could never return to prove you wrong, then you would technically be right. it’s almost like someone who lost a parent at a young age through a divorce or a bad breakup, or just never had them in the first place. automatically, you dislike them. you hate the father or mother that was never there to see your first steps, to hear your first word, or to teach you how to grow. they never influenced your childhood in a positive aspect, so how could you imagine them any other way than evil?

but, at the same time, you knew jisung. jisung had single handedly been the light in your life for years now. he was your best friend, practically your roommate, and he knew you better than anyone else. you could never truly hate him because in the end, you knew he didn’t do anything wrong.

he’d never been anything shy of perfect; he was sweet, understanding, loving, smart, humble, kind, forgiving, accepting- anything, you name it. he was the ideal presence in your life and you knew, you knew that you didn’t hate him.

in reality, you loved him.

you stared up at the sky, eyes filled with anger, sadness, grievance, and confusion. what did you do to lose him? what did he do that warranted his disappearance? why did the world so cruelly steal this perfect boy from you?

you can remember every memory like it was yesterday, mind filling with vivid images of his beautiful face.

“sung, I don’t know about this,” you murmur quietly, eyes darting around the empty parking lot. you noticed the lack of street lights, leaving the area to drown in darkness. it was ominous and intimidating, making you clutch at your jacket. you pulled it tighter to your skin, trying to put up a barrier between you and the rest of the world.

jisung shook his head, a dazzling, yet mischievous grin taking form on his lips. he chuckles into the air, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his side. he gestures into the air, saying, “it’s not so bad, angel. everything is just a rumor, I promise.”

you huff, looking up at the boy with crazed eyes. he doesn’t meet your gaze, instead staring over at the abandoned walmart building with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“so that means we have to check it out?” you question, shoving at his chest. it’s weak, not even getting a reaction from him, and he just grabs your wrists and stares down at you with a small smile. “you’re such a knucklehead! what if we die, jisung?”

“then you can say you told me so,” jisung shrugs, chuckling at your bewildered expression. you look personally offended by his comment, but before you can protest, he’s dragging you through the parking lot and over to the entrance. “you won’t get hurt, I promise.”

then, he sent you the sweetest of smiles that had your heart racing erratically in your chest- and, at that moment, you were incredibly lucky to be scared out of your wits right now.

call it denial, but that meant you had something to blame it on other than the possibility that you might be falling for your best friend.

after a moment of hesitation, you sigh. pushing him towards the entrance, you make sure your hand remains firmly gripped around his wrist. he doesn’t leave your side as he leads the way into the abandoned building, sliding the previously automatic doors open with ease.

you feel a shiver creep down your spine as darkness hits you, a very blinding kind of darkness that has you seeing splotches of colors in the strangest array possible. you sway momentarily as your eyes adjust and you inhale a shaky breath, hand tightening around his arm.

then, as the door closes behind you, you’re acutely aware of the way you’re suddenly embraced by darkness. eyes widening, you feel yourself begin to panic. you’d never been afraid of the dark, but it was mostly the place you were in that gave you the creeps.

the walmart had been rumored to shut down due to a busted pipe that flooded the building, but most of everything was just that: rumors. the real reason behind it shutting down had never been revealed, and, of course, that made it a typical teenager hangout.

jisung suddenly grunts from beside you and his arm is ripped from your hold, making a surprised cry escape your lips. you feel around in the darkness, trying to find him, but you can’t see anything- and what you can see is heavily distorted and fuzzy, making you squint your eyes.

“sung?” you call out, frowning. you spin around in endless circles, heart beginning to feel heavy with panic. “this isn’t funny, sung! come out, right now!”

then, as you go to cry out again, the lights flicker on and jisung is stranding right in front of you. the handle of a bouquet of flowers is between his mouth as he grips a present and a beautifully decorated envelope between his fingers with a shy smile.

“happy birthday,” he murmurs, the plastic slurring this words slightly, but you can make them out nonetheless.

you glance around, looking at your surroundings. there’s a small blanket set out across a patch of tile, a hefty picnic basket resting on top of the liliac-colored fluff. you breathe in a surprised gasp, at a loss for words, and glance up at your best friend.

“I...” you trail off. to be fair, you were still reeling from the scare he gave you, but now that you understood his elaborate plan, you felt much better. “I thought you forgot.”

jisung frowns, scratching at the back of his head after he hands you the flowers, “I’m sorry. this was supposed to happen a lot earlier today but I got caught up in something. haechan is down the street watching out for any cops, just in case.”

you smile at his care, biting into your bottom lip shyly, holding back a laugh. jisung’s eyes soften and he looks at your eyes, his own flickering with love, “besides, how could I forget my favorite girls birthday?”

instead of replying, you just pulled him into a soft hug.

“thank you, ji.”

he ran his fingers through your hair, murmuring softly, “anytime, angel.”

you sigh. he’d been nothing but amazing to you throughout your entire friendship, but that memory in specific had been the thing that brought you to the overwhelming realization: you were head over heels for your best friend.

your eyes are emotionless, telling nothing of the stories playing behind your lids.

the therapist stares wordlessly, as if she’s trying to see the pictures that you see. but she can’t- and she never will. the memories you see are unlike anything else, resurfacing feelings of pain and loss and love. everything hits you so strongly and you have to look away.

you blink, eyes feeling dry from remaining open for so long. but how could you not keep them open? every time your eyes closed, you saw jisung’s lifeless face staring at you, and you got the sinking feeling that he was dead. nothing had been proven- but nothing had been disproven, either.

it could, in truth, be a plausible reality. you don’t want it to be but at this point you feel like there’s no other choice.

“how do you feel?” the woman asks, holding a notebook in hand. she clutches a small pen in the other, ready to write down your response. yet, you refuse to give her the satisfaction, keeping your replies to yourself.

in truth, you weren’t sure what kind of response she even expected from you.

did she want you to lie and pretend like everything was just fine?

I’m peachy. just lost my best friend and the guy I’m desperately in love with. he was my other half and now he’s gone. life couldn’t be better, really.

did she want you to cry and pour your heart out to her?

the love of my life is gone and I feel like I’m breaking. I haven’t eaten properly since he left and my brother thinks I’m a shell of who I am. not to mention, I’m ruining my brother’s life with my own misery.

both options sounded absolutely terrible and you sighed to yourself. glancing down at your nails, you took note of the overgrown cuticles and the rough edges of the nails from excessive biting. it was a habit jisung always managed to stop, whether it be by pulling your finger out of your mouth and holding your hand so you couldn’t do it, or even just flat out telling you to stop- something about his voice just had you desperate to listen and obey.

jisung.

there he is again.

you hadn’t even realized your mind had gone back to him until it was too late, and your heart begins to ache. refusing to look over at the therapist, you heaved in a deep breath and avoided her gaze. tucking your legs in underneath you on the small chair, you chose to stare at the floor- something that couldn’t spark any memories of the absent boy.

“I can see it on your face,” she says, but her words sound like static. you aren’t listening and you haven’t been listening ever since renjun signed you up for therapy- something you didn’t agree to, yet here you are. “you’re hurting.”

“of course I’m hurting,” you snap, eyes shooting over to the woman. you frown instantly, realizing that’s the exact response she wanted, and try to sink into your chair to no success.

“tell me about him,” she murmurs softly, and something about the sentence has you halting. you look down at your hands again, sighing as tears sting your eyes.

then, you make an executive decision and glance up at her.

“jisung was...”

your eyes flutter open, drowsiness leaving the lids heavy. your face feels like it burns red and you lift your hands to your cheek tiredly, feeling the head radiating off your skin in waves. you feel distraught and completely unaware of your surroundings as you blink slowly.

were you sick? you couldn’t remember ever getting into your bed and you don’t remember feeling sickly, either. yet, by the burning of your face and the nausea creeping into your stomach, it’s clear to you that something is wrong.

“renjun?” you call out. your own voice sounds foreign and hoarse. your throat burns and you frown as a cough bubbles up, so intense it has you sitting up in bed to heave.

then, the thing you didn’t expect happens.

he comes running into the room, a bowl of soup in his hands as he pats at a dusty apron, flour on his cheeks and dotting his face. his blonde hair is messily parted and his plump lips are pressed together in a solemn line, but they blossom into a thin smile at the sight of you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, coming to sit next to you on the bed. he holds out a spoonful of the soup to you, expression reading that of an apologetic one. “were you calling for me just now? I had my headphones in, I couldn’t quite hear you...”

silence.

your lips part in surprise and you swallow roughly. tears sting at your eyes and you begin to feel even more sick than before. you never thought you’d see him again. he went missing a year ago, didn’t he? why was he suddenly in your apartment, acting as if he never left as he nursed you back to health.

when you don’t immediately take a bite of the soup, he retracts his spoon, furrowing his brows. “what’s wrong?” jisung questions, head tilting in a way you found adorable- but now wasn’t the time to be shocked by this appearance, “you’ll feel better if you eat, I promise.”

unable to form words, you instead open your mouth, letting him slip the spoon inside as the warm liquid began filling your mouth. you felt an instant, brief relief wash over you. it was hot, a stinging kind of heat, but it felt good against your scorching throat.

“I knew I shouldn’t have visited you after my hospital shift...” jisung murmurs sadly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. he shakes his head, blonde tousles of hair covering his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I’m the reason you’re sick right now, angel.”

instead of replying, you did the only thing you could think of.

you hugged him. you brought him into the warmest embrace you’d ever done, and you held him strong, scared that if your hold wavered even in the slightest that he’d disappear again. you hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until you felt your body shake and sobs escape your lips.

jisung pulled away immediately, hands cupping your face and wiping the tears away. he looked at you with concern, “angel? what’s wrong? are you okay? did I do something?”

you shook your head, savoring the sound of his voice. you breathed in heavily at the sight behind him: your clock. but most importantly, what the clock read. 6/24/20, the day after jisung went missing. all you could do was stare, unblinking, at the date, and jisung seemed to notice.

he followed your gaze, looking in confusion when they landed on the clock.

“what happened yesterday, sung?” you questioned quietly.

you needed this to be true. you needed this to be reality. you needed him to be in your arms again and stay there for as long as possible- you needed him to be back.

jisung’s brows furrowed in confusion, but at the expression on your face, he didn’t hesitate to respond, “um, well, I left my earbud here for you. I’m sorry I had to leave so early, the hospital called and needed me. I signed up for their volunteer employee list, remember?”

yes, actually, you did remember. but he signed up for the role so long ago that you’d almost completely forgotten.

“anyways, I finished helping patients around ten last night? it was pretty late. you were asleep so I just crawled in with you. you woke up around four this morning feeling unwell, so I’ve been here since.”

you exhaled a deep breath you didn’t know you’d been keeping.

it was a dream- a nightmare.

at the thought, a small smile broke out on your face and you pulled him back to you, sighing, “I had the worst dream, sungie...”

as ironic as it may be, it appears as if your storm has finally come.

#jisung #nct jisung #fluff #nct #nct dream #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream jisung #nct dream jisung fluff #park jisung #park jisung fluff #jisung x reader

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Imagine if you’d been dating Harry for ages and all the fans love you and him together cause you’re always super nice and love talking to the fans too (maybe you’re slightly famous like an actor or work in fashion or something?) and you’re kinda in the background when Harry is meeting fans before the show, offering to take photos and chatting with them all🥺

okay so let’s pretend hslot has a meet and greet before hand… that’s the dream right? ;

“Love, y’sure you’ll be alright?” Harry asked as you stood off to the side of the room, nearer the drinks and snacks bar stand.

“Yes, H. I’ll be fine!” You replied.

Harry was worried about leaving you alone, although still in the same room as him, when his fans came in for their meet and greet. There wasn’t masses of them, but still enough for if they wanted to gang up and shout at you, which you’ve insisted many times to Harry is a silly notion, that they could successfully do so. You were in the media industry, a photographer no less and you’d met Harry on the shoot for Another Man - having been his designated photographer for the day. He swore he loved you at first sight. Since that shoot you were constantly with each other and the fans fell in love with you more and more each day, however there were still the ones who despised you - that’s what, or rather whom, Harry was worried about tonight.

He looked so good tonight, you could barely focus on anything else. Harry was in his outfit for stage and he was wearing pink trousers, cream-white boots and a gilet style jacket made out of glittery tassels. He was so beautiful and his skin was glowing so gorgeously, from spending the last week or so in LA. You were coordinating with him and were wearing a pink blazer with matching pink pants and then a cream-white bralette underneath the jacket with the same cream-white boots as him. You both couldn’t look more like a couple if you tried. Lambert had taken so many photos of you both, happy that you’d managed to unexpectedly coordinate so well with each other.

It was a soulmate thing, you told him.

It was around 40 minutes until showtime now and the fans should be arriving any moment now, for their opportunity to get photos with their idol.

“Just don’t like leaving y’alone.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around your neck so he could hold you closer. Your arms rested on his inner arms, feeling the warmth of his skin so smoothly as he swayed you from side to side.

“Well i’ll be by the snacks if y’need to find me.” You laughed and so did he, making you feel better that he was feeling a bit better too.

“M’kay.” He said softly and leant down to give you a soft kiss to the lips, cupping you chin lightly so he could pull your further into him. He tasted so good and fresh and he felt so hot against you. He pulled away with much reluctance and smiled when he saw your strawberry-tasting lipstick now slightly smudged. “Did I mention how hot you look tonight?”

“Only a few times.” You smiled and bit your lip as his eyes gazed over you, soaking up every detail of you, your body and outfit. You knew you looked pretty damn good, because you felt so good too.

“Only a few? Well that’s not good enough, is it?” He asked rhetorically, straightening your blazer slightly so the collar wasn’t crooked.

“You can make up for it later.”

“Oh, i’ll make sure of it lovie.” Harry raised his eyebrows and kissed your cheek, before Jeff told him to go stand over by the wall where photos would be taken. He left you be, with a childish pout to his face, and did what he was told.

It was another minute before the fans piled into the room, being told to form an orderly queue within the lines they’d marked out. You took a water bottle and drank from it as the first girl walked up to Harry, the poor thing shaking like a leaf. You watched as Harry comforted her, hugging her only slightly. Everyone here was obligated to wear a mask and also be vaccinated with a negative test result. If you weren’t vaccinated you couldn’t meet Harry, regardless of whether your test was negative. There were very strict rules, but it was for the safety of everyone - including touring staff who were more vulnerable.

A few of the other girls did their solo photos, before asking for a group one too. They were all coordinating in their outfits, but just different colours so they made a rainbow. Harry thought it was genius and made positive comments on all their outfits. You could tell it had made their year, let alone their day.

Once the first group was done they were told they could refresh themselves with some snack, before they would be escorted to their seats because they were in their own pit area. You smiled with your eyes at the group of rainbow girls approaching the table, moving out of the way so that they could grab what they wanted.

“Y/N?” One of the girls asked, the one wearing lilac actually.

“Hi, hello!” You waved awkwardly, not sure whether this was going to be the confrontation Harry had warned you about.

“Can we get a photo?” They asked politely, which made your eyes widen. You’d never been asked for a fan photo before, even when out in public with Harry. You’d always preferred to stick to the shadows unless instructed otherwise, just because you hadn’t always appreciated how good you looked, but now you were feeling great so you didn’t have a problem with it.

“Sure, yeah.” You nodded as the girl brought her camera up to snap a few selfies with you. You smiled through your mask and stuck up a peace sign - just like Harry had taught you to do.

“Thank you so much. You look amazing, by the way.” They complimented your outfit.

“Thank you! So you do lot! You’re giving me heavy TPWK vibes.” You pointed to them and they laughed, agreeing that that is in fact what they were going for.

“Can I get a photo too, sorry?” The green girl asked and you had to admit that they probably looked the best, but maybe you were just biased because that wad your favourite colour because they reminded you of your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, ‘course y’can.” You smiled and they came to stand closer to you. You took a few selfies with them and then the blue one asked too. It wasn’t long before you’d taken selfies with the full rainbow. “Shall we have a group photo?”

“Oh my god yes please!” They all cheered at the same time and you called over one of Harry’s security guards to come take a picture for you.

You all huddled together, you in the middle of them. You were stood in between green and yellow, so your pink outfit sort of ruined the flow of colours but they didn’t seem to mind. They especially didn’t seem to mind when Harry sneaked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your head. He squeezed you tight and everyone’s faces were super happy when the next few photos were taken.

“What’re you playing at?” You asked him, taking your arms off the shoulders of the girls and turning your head around to face him since he wasn’t letting go of your waist.

“Was told to come tell you to stop being a bother so these lot can go and find their seats.” Harry smiled his cheeky grin, knowing that he phrased that in a less than pleasant way.

“A both—”

“Y/N was no bother at all.” Green girl came to your assistance, protecting you against Harry’s playful accusation.

“Yeah we asked to take the photos.” Red girl stepped in next, blushing when they realised that Harry was actually staring at them with a smile on his face.

“Alright. Just this one can be trouble sometimes.” Harry tickled your waist, which made you squirm and laugh.

“Oi i’m not trouble, y’prick.” You whacked him in offence, just joking and the fans could tell because they were all laughing at you two. You noticed that one or two of them were filming you both, or taking photos, and so you tilted your head back onto Harry’s shoulder as he held you tight - feeding the fans the content that they so desperately wanted.

“Thank you so much Y/N. I love you Harry. Thank you Harry.” They all spoke bc over each other as they were escorted out of the room and off to their seats, Harry being told he had ten minutes until stage.

Harry just held you tight, kissing you at every opportune moment until the sounds of Golden called him away.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #finelinevogue #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #finelinevogue harry styles masterlist #hslot series finelinevogue #hslot concept night #hslot #harry styles love on tour #love on tour blurbs #love on tour series #love on tour #harry styles las vegas

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madametrashbin · 3 years

Text

Wishful Dreaming

In which I pretend Part 3 of Inazuma’s story doesn’t exist and everyone is alive before shit goes down. Yes, people who read this, it’s time for best friend headcanons/drabbles/whatever the hell this is with Teppei. Honestly, it’s just no thoughts head empty right now and I might have gone off tangent a lot.

(And by a lot, I mean the majority of this piece, probably... by the way, credits to @streimiv and @myuni-moon for making my brain be hyper focused on Self Aware Cult Genshin... I can’t get it out of my head as of right now.)

Enjoy, even if it’s never going to be beta-read by anyone and I will never go back to edit this even if I find mistakes in this later on... and I also don’t know where my brain went for this, but what’s done is done.

I’m not even sure if I did his personality correctly, ahaha... (；^ω^)

(I’m going to project my denial in this, so please know it might be wince inducing and incredibly self-indulgent.)

The sun is bright at this time of day, the gentle breeze flowing through the tranquil lands of Inazuma, leaving those who are experiencing the nice morning in a blissful escape from its current reality.

...much like a young foreigner who had left their current abode, leaving behind a note for their caretakers to see as they wander around the land of Eternity for some true fresh air and peace of mind away from the group that had more or less made their life a little too suffocating as of late.

It is also incredibly lonely in there, as they come to understand that no one (for the most part) look at them like they were a regular human... like they were them.

So they now wander, taking in the rarity of solitude that does not come as easily as one might think. Inazuma is beautiful, even if they know that the peace they see around these parts are but a veil that shields the horrible reality going on around them.

(They know what was happening outside the city, outside the teapot they were living in since they were brought here. They’ve experienced it happening before, many times in fact. They know what will happen, and they’re determined to change it. They just need to find a certain someone, and then they’re set.)

Meeting Teppei was something you didn’t really expect all that much, considering you knew he should be still a part of the logistic division of the Resistance Army and would be busy in their current base that was all the way to Yashiori Island.

Yet by sheer luck, or by fate, you meet the good fellow on Narukami Island and had managed to make a pretty good friendship with him over the course of coincidental meetings.

You’ve come to learn a few things about the young man, and it was that he was a pretty trusting guy, didn’t even think twice of being friends with you... which was a little worrisome, considering what happened in the actual storyline.

That’s okay though, you’ll make nothing happens to him... he is one of your only true friends in this world, after all.

“Teppei.”

They call to him as the Resistance Samurai turned his head away from the sight of the Tenshukaku to them.

“Is there anything you wish for? I mean, if you could have one wish granted, anything you want, what would it be?”

The young man looked rather confused at them, before they briefly clarified that they were just curious. As much as they enjoy the peacefulness of silence, they wanted to know what he really wanted... wondering if he really wanted a Vision, for the acknowledgement of the Gods.

��What would I wish for...”

The young man was quiet for a while, no doubt mulling it over before smiling when he comes to an answer, his head lifting to look at the glimmering stars.

“I would wish for the war to end... for the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree to be abolished so people won’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Really? Not a Vision, or something like that?”

“Well, having a Vision would be nice, but thinking about it... I think it’s better if everyone is happy. A lot of people are suffering, and even if I did get a Vision, it’s still pretty difficult to win the war against the Shogunate.”

They could only hum quietly in understanding after that, not really certain what else to ask him before he gives them the same question.

What do they wish for?

To go home. They would have said, but they chose not to because they knew there was probably little chance for them to be allowed to go home... Their “acolytes” are rather over-protective and notably possessive towards them, probably rampaging around Inazuma right now in search of them.

Well, they at least know what they’re going to do once they inevitably find them.

“Isn’t it time you should head back to your camp, Teppei?”

“Huh? Oh, right! It’s getting late! Then, if I have time, I’ll see you again!”

And he’s off in a rush, disappearing when he turned around the rocky walls and out of their sight. At the same time as he left, the bushes behind them rustle, and a frantic Zhongli appears with Venti following behind... both relaxed significantly once they saw them in perfect condition.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Your Grace. It’s dangerous for you to go outside on your own like that.”

“Please don’t worry us like that again.”

They immediately take to their sides, quickly ushering them to head back to the Teapot before they stopped them in their tracks.

“Your Grace?”

“I need to do something. Will the both of you accompany me for this?”

...and by the following morning, an official announcement is made to all of Inazuma with the abolishment of both the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree.

Teppei is rushing over to them with a beaming smile on his face when they meet again that noon, the young man happily shares the good news with them while they simply smiled and nodded along with what he said even if they knew the reason behind it.

They don’t tell him anything, nor mention that it was thanks to him that it ended... well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Extra, because why not:

It becomes a frequent part of your days now that the War in Inazuma was over. Hanging out with Teppei as often as you could, granted you’d have a few people trailing in the shadows at all times, watching over you so you don’t pull the same stunt again.

You have to spend a bit of time giving warning glares behind you whenever Teppei mentions the cold chills that makes his bones shiver despite the relatively warm weather.

When the two of you get roped up into a bit of trouble (whether by lingering Fatui grunts, stray Ronins or local Treasure Hoarders seeking to rob you), Teppei would always jump in between you and them, saying he’ll protect you as he holds his spear (that he brings with him out of habit).

...you thinks it’s endearing with how he’s trying to be brave, as you can see his hands shake just a tad bit due to the numbers.

But as much as you want to let him have his moment, you prefer that your friend doesn’t get himself hurt and therefore skillfully lead him away from the danger while the rest (your cult) dealt with them.

When you feel like the divine treatment is starting to get too overwhelming, and you’re feeling a little too lonely, you always make your way to Teppei who is there to provide comfort even if you never really talked about what’s troubling you.

Your friendship with Teppei is strong, even if you rarely talk about yourself to him and how he’s told you practically everything about himself.

There’s just something about that trust that bring you a lot of comfort... it gave a different feeling compared to Zhongli or Fischl’s kind of trust... it was warmer, and felt more like home.

You’re also very adamant in keeping him away from the whole cult business, not wanting him to think of you like how the others did... you don’t want to lose that friendship that practically kept you sane in this world.

The amount of times you have to keep reminding your cult to leave him be is absurd, and as much as they protest about him, the fact you’re upset at them for that is enough to get them to stop.

...for a while, at least. They go at it again for a while when Teppei does something they don’t like until you actually snapped at them. They stopped bothering him after that.

If Teppei does eventually find out about the cult, which will most likely happen because of Kokomi, you would be genuinely terrified in the beginning of it until he gives you proper reassurance that it doesn’t change anything.

Now he’s allowed to see you in the Teapot, often visiting with curious snacks he finds and occasionally sleeping over when you are feeling particularly lonely.

Overall, a very pleasant friendship to have. Being one of the few you can really be open with and not be concerned about how you’re viewed as.

Wholesome boy will always have your back whenever you need him... even if he is a little intimidated by the Raiden Shogun and the other intimidating acolytes that are a part of your cult.

#self aware genshin #genshin cult stuff #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #I believe in platonic friendships #I have no braincells left #it was 12am when I started writing this #I barely slept before that too #idk what to tag honestly #tagging is hard #*dramatically screaming*

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Heatwave

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: The air conditioning is out at the BAU, so things get very hot—in more ways than one. Category: Smut 18+ (penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie / minor breeding kink, sex in an elevator) Warnings: Sex, language (As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3.7k

MASTERLIST

***

"Oh, fuck, that's it!"

The exclamation nearly knocked Spencer off his feet. He would know her voice anywhere, so he didn't have to look to know that it was Y/N, but he looked anyway, sure enough spotting her on the opposite end of the bullpen, sorting through files at her desk.

If Hotch was any closer, he would have given her a warning look to signal his distaste for her swearing in the office, but his door was shut while he talked with someone so it never came.

"Wha—what did you find?" Spencer got out after clearing his throat to compose himself. It was bad enough he had already been distracted by her before, thinking about what it would be like to feel her hands weaved through his hair as she kissed him, but then she had to say that sentence of all things, slightly enhancing the fantasy.

It also didn't help that the air conditioning in the building was currently out, and in the middle of August. So when he looked up, he saw a low-cut, baby pink tank top with lace detailing on the hem, and a pulled-up hairdo that perfectly exposed her neck, which was currently glistening in a thin sheen of sweat. The way she leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed under a loose, knee-length floral skirt as she mulled over her file was giving him too many bad ideas, and it was a wonder he hadn't been caught or called out yet—everyone could always tell when he was thinking or off in his own world.

"Oh," Y/N said, briefly craning her head to meet his eyes. It took everything he had not to shudder when their gazes finally met. "I just misplaced one of my files, that's all. I was afraid I'd lost it. But it's right here," she said with a nervous laugh. "I didn't... bother you did I?"

"Oh! N—no, you didn't bother me at all, I... I was just wondering, that's all. I—I'm glad you found your file." He hated that he stumbled over his words, but when she looked at him like that, that sickeningly sweet kindness in her eyes that never wavered when she talked to him, he couldn't help it. She was easily the most intimidatingly angelic presence he'd ever met, in every capacity possible.

Even as she quickly frowned and shifted slightly in her chair, her eyes didn't lose that sparkle. But it was still evident that she was uncomfortable, so Spencer spoke again. "Are you okay?"

She set the file down on her desk and sat up straighter, bringing her back up off the chair as she uncrossed her legs. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's just the heat. I hate it. I'm definitely more of a cold, rainy day-type of girl, I guess."

Odd, considering you're just about the warmest soul I've ever met, he thought. Even as she talked about her distaste for the heat, she kept her voice light and her eyes kind.

"Hmm," is all he said, shortly and barely loud enough for her to hear.

The rest of the day seemed to pass by rather quickly, which Spencer was thankful for; the longer the day moved forward, the hotter it got, and it proved to be more distracting than he wanted to admit.

But soon he would be able to go home and take a cold shower, for one thing to cool off, but for another to relieve some of this feeling Y/N had been making him feel. He tried really hard throughout the day not to look at her, but he always found himself drawn to her anyway, and each time it happened he thought of dirtier and dirtier things, scenarios that he was positive could only happen in his wildest dreams.

But as usual, things didn't seem to work in his favor today. Just as he and Y/N were about to get onto the elevator, Hotch walked by, calling to them. "Sorry to ask you guys of this, but could you stay another hour or two? There are more files I need to get sorted, and I know it's hot, so I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but it would be helpful if I had an extra set of hands."

Two more hours at most, he could manage that, right? And at least he'd have more files to keep him occupied, something to focus on.

Hotch sent them to the file room with a list of the files he needed, and then it was just the two of them, stepping onto the elevator and sealing their fate.

It wasn't four seconds after the elevator started moving that it stopped and the lights inside dimmed red.

"Wait, what's happening?" Y/N asked, slightly panicked.

Spencer was just as puzzled. "I... I'm not sure. Maybe it has something to do with the heat?"

About a minute passed before she sighed, shoving her phone in her bag. "Yeah. Just got a text from Garcia, the power in the building shut down so they could fix the air conditioning. It's gonna take like a half hour."

"A—A half hour? Really?" He tried not to show how nervous it made him, but truthfully he didn't think it would work.

Y/N sighed. "Yeah... It's... fine, though, I mean, maybe someone will try to get us out."

"But we're in between two floors..."

Another sigh. "And it's hot as hell in here. Great... So much for going home early."

Spencer snuck a glance over at her, almost immediately regretting it when he looked her over. Under the deep red glow of the emergency lights, she looked absolutely sinful. Her bag was dropped on the ground and she leaned against the wall, her arms crossed and pushing up her breasts. Her head was leaned back and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths, no doubt trying to stay as calm as one could be in this situation. He noticed every breath she took, her chest rising and falling and her skin glowing. And in that moment he embarrassingly felt something stir in his lower stomach, only made worse by the fact that it was, as she'd phrased it, 'hot as hell' in the elevator. He was hot and practically squirming as he stood there, ogling Y/N like she was the only woman he'd ever seen before.

As if it couldn't get any worse, she opened her eyes quickly and caught him staring at her chest. He didn't seem to notice because, well, his eyes were elsewhere, so she closed them once more and smirked to herself for the briefest of seconds, an idea striking her brain like a match.

She brought her arms to slowly un-cross and stretch outwards to her sides, arching her back and puffing out her chest as she gripped the rail of the elevator. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw that Spencer's head was directed pointedly to the floor. She smiled a little, keeping her arms stretched out across the rail as she took him in.

The first thing she took notice of was how his hair stuck to his face, wavy and damp with sweat. His fingers tapped against his legs, and that's what she looked at the longest. Every time his middle finger tapped the outside of his thigh, she imagined that he was doing it to her clit, and she could practically feel it throb to the slow, steady beat of his finger. Her hands gripped the rail tighter and she crossed her legs, contemplating whether or not she should take advantage of this moment to finally do something about this tension she'd been feeling between them for the past year and a half.

The truth is, she'd always had a crush on him since they started working together. But when she started her job at the BAU, he was... a little odd. Every time she would join in conversation, he'd made it a point to look almost inconvenienced by her presence. At first she had to wonder if maybe he just didn't like her. And if that was the case, she didn't want to make it worse by asking him about it, so she left it alone. But then she noticed how he was like that with everyone, and then over time he seemed to get better. Eventually he warmed up to her and the two of them became fast friends. He'd quickly transformed from a guy who always seemed annoyed with everyone and into the adorably shy, brilliant man everyone had told her he was when she first got the job.

Now there had been almost two years' worth of a different kind of tension between them, and in this moment in the elevator, Y/N wanted to do something about it. Or at least try.

She thought for a moment, trying to find the best way to bring it up. Should she be straightforward? You know, flat-out tell him that she's liked him for a long time and wanted to kiss his face off? Or did she want to have more fun with it? Because she admittedly loved seeing him get flustered every time he noticed her noticing him staring at her, but if he really didn't feel the same way, she didn't want to come on too strong and ruin this thing they'd built.

Ultimately, Y/N decided to try a little of both.

She cleared her throat to catch his attention. "Hey, Spence?"

When he looked up at her, his stomach flipped again. Fuck, she was just so breathtaking, her arms spread and her legs crossed like she was the queen of the elevator and he was trespassing just by being there. Her chin was tilted upwards, exposing more of her neck, and it almost made him fall over. "Y—Yeah?" he stammered quietly, trying and failing to sound calm.

"What should we do to pass the time? I'm bored."

If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn he she was suggesting they— No. There was no way. He'd been a total jerk to her when they first met, and even though they were much friendlier now, Spencer wasn't sure she could ever want to do anything like that with him.

Right?

"Um... I—I don't know. Your phone works, doesn't it? Do you, um... Do you have anything you could do there?"

She shrugged, tilting her head to the side. "Battery's almost dead, and I want to save it in case something happens and we get stuck in here for longer than thirty minutes... I was thinking, actually... We haven't really gotten to know each other that well, and maybe would play... like 20 Questions or something."

"Oh..." He swallowed, shifting on his feet and blinking. "Well, um... W—what do you want to know?"

"Hmm... Favorite color?" She knew it was purple, but she wanted to hear him talk. Get him comfortable.

"Purple. What's yours?"

She leaned forward off the rail a little, and Spencer swallowed again, suddenly feeling a burst of warmth through his body.

"Light pink," Y/N said softly, "like so light that it's almost white."

He glanced down at her chest again, only for a moment to take in her shirt, which he'd remembered was the same color.

She continued. "What's your favorite snack food?"

"Pretzels."

"Me, too. Hmm... Favorite candle scent?"

"Peppermint."

"Spearmint. Favorite Star Wars movie?"

"Return of the Jedi."

"A New Hope. Favorite sex position?"

"Doggy."

She didn't say another word.

He wasn't even aware of the situation until about five seconds later, when she raised an eyebrow at him and his whole world came crumbling down.

As he visibly struggled to find words, Y/N only continued in conversation. "That surprises me. I would have thought you'd be more of a cowgirl guy."

If the way her voice sounded when she talked to him was the handle, then the way her eyes bore into his own was the blade, both of them coming together to create the weapon that would be his ultimate demise. The only thing missing was that twist of the blade, the one that would make sure he was gone for good, and the moment she leaned completely off the railing and took a small step towards him, he realized that final ingredient was her touch. If she touched him, he was done for.

"Aren't you gonna ask me what mine is? That's how the game works."

There's no way she wasn't flirting with him... Right? He was never good at picking up on those kinds of things, but she was being so obvious about it, stepping closer and closer to him with her chest puffed out and her head tilted to the side to reveal her neck. She was inviting him in, right? Especially after asking him to ask her that question.

That question...

Right.

"Um..." Spencer swallowed before speaking, his voice barely discernible. "What's... y—your favorite sex position?"

"Doggy. Especially standing up," she said with what was most definitely a flirty smile. "Looks like you and I have quite a bit in common."

"Y—yeah, I guess we... do..."

By now she had him backed against the other side of the elevator, and as soon as he felt his back hit the rail, he swallowed again, bringing his hand up to the collar of his shirt to relieve some of the heat he was feeling.

It didn't work, unsurprisingly.

"Look, if... If I'm overstepping, you should tell me. But I've liked you for a long time, and I feel like I'd be dumb to waste the perfect opportunity to tell you... So... The elevator probably won't be fixed for another twenty minutes at least, and since we're already on the subject... Maybe we should find another way to pass the time?"

Spencer noticed that she was careful not to actually touch him unless he gave her the go-ahead, and if anything it made him want her even more. She was giving him an out, and he knew that if he told her 'no', she wouldn't push it.

But here she was, in all her beautiful, radiant glory, practically inviting him to indulge in some of his biggest fantasies, and he would have to be brain-dead to pass that up. Even if he was a little nervous.

He tried to give her permission in a way that didn't make himself come off as some obsessed admirer, a shaky, breathy laugh exhaling from his throat before he spoke. "Well, it's already hot as hell in here, so... What's a little more heat?"

At first he regretted saying it, scared it was stupid and most definitely a mood-killer, but the way she practically lunged at him completely washed away all the worries written in the sand. And when her body pressed firmly against his, her lips coming to capture his in the most burning kiss he'd ever had, the waves crashed even stronger, loud with searing desire as warm as the August sun.

Immediately he brought his hands to cradle her face, loving the way he almost engulfed her with their size. He moved his lips against hers eagerly as her hands worked at unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. She only got the first few done before pulling away, and despite the heat, Spencer felt cold without her pressed up against him.

It took a moment for him to realize what was happening, but when she suddenly turned them both around and bent forward, leaning out to grab the rail, he felt warm again.

She turned her head around to look at him with a smile through a bit bottom lip as she reached one of her hands under her skirt and slowly pulled her panties down. Almost as soon as they hit the floor, pooling around her ankles, she lifted the skirt up and revealed herself to him, slowly running her fingers through her pussy.

"It's all yours, Doctor Reid," she said lowly, spreading her legs as far as they could go with her panties still confining her ankles.

He hadn't even realized he'd undone his pants until they were at his feet and his dick was in his hand. How had she managed to have that great of an affect on him?

He promptly decided he didn't care how, as he stepped forward and brought himself up to her ass and ran the head of his cock through her pussy, briefly meeting her fingers as he did so. "Are you sure?" he asked. Because once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. He already lost his mind just being in her presence, but being this close to her, fucking her in a broken elevator would surely hinder his ability to think about anything rationally, let alone at all.

"Fuck me, please," she all but begged, pushing herself back a little to encourage him. Either that or she was just desperate, though there was a good chance it was both.

In any case, that was all he needed, the trigger that set him off, and within seconds he was plunged deep inside her, the both of them softly moaning out at how it felt.

Spencer set a steady pace, his hands firmly gripping her waist as she pushed back to meet his every move. Each thrust forward was another twist of the blade that sealed his fate, only made more brutal by the pure filth that dripped from Y/N's lips, a symphony of long, drawn out moans and curses that sounded just as loving as they did pornographic.

When she bent forward even more, so much that he could see her hands outstretched on the rail, it gave him the deepest angle he could possibly be at, and she clenched herself around him, calling out his name.

"Fuck, Y/N, keep doing that," Spencer breathed out, shutting his eyes at the sensation.

He could hear her laugh a little. "That feel good, baby? Huh, you like when my pussy clings to you?"

Each word was fuel that quickened his pace inside of her, and joined with the way his hands were wrapped around her, the very tips of his fingers felt her stomach bulge at every snap of his hips. He spread his right hand across her lower stomach to feel it, groaning out as he did.

He didn't even realize he'd said his next words out loud, but after she groaned out and clenched around him tighter, he knew she'd heard and liked what he was saying.

"God, I wanna cum inside you so fucking bad..."

She turned her head again to see him as best as she could, doing the most to come off as desperate as she felt. "Fuck, Spence, do it, please, I want your cum inside me, please..."

A few more quick thrusts inside of her was enough to make her cum, her mouth open in a silent scream as she stopped moving back against him and just let him pound into her. He followed closely behind, brokenly moaning out her name as he stilled and pulsated inside of her.

"Ohh, that's it," she said to him with wonder as she stayed clamped tightly around him, trying to get every last drop. "Fuck, that feels so fucking good..."

In a moment of blind lust at her words, Spencer pulled out just until only the tip was inside, before quickly and deeply fucking into her once more, holding himself inside for about five seconds as she cried out. He repeated that so many times he couldn't keep count. Or maybe it was only two times, and he was just to drunk on her to notice. However long he did it for, they both relished in the feeling before they were both overstimulated and out of breath.

While any other time he would have loved to see his cum drip down her legs, since they were at work he decided to lift her panties up instead, relishing in the way she whimpered when they were on all the way. He made sure to pull them up tight, so she could feel his cum soak them as she stood upwards.

He scrambled to put his pants back on as she caught her breath, leaning against the wall of the elevator with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. He watched her intently as her hand drifted under her skirt and rubbed herself through her underwear, letting out whimpers and ragged breaths upon feeling what he'd done to her. The sweat that had just started to form on her body earlier due to the heat was now dripping down her neck and over her chest, and he was once again mesmerized by her.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered aloud. Of course he'd meant to say it to himself in his head, but he wasn't thinking straight. She'd utterly wrecked him.

Y/N opened her eyes and smiled, taking him in as well. His hair was wild, all over the place and just as sexy as she'd found it before. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, no thanks to her, revealing a glistening chest and making her pussy throb once more, knowing what they'd just done and how... hot the whole situation was, for lack of a better term.

As if she needed a reminder, more of his cum seeped into the fabric of her underwear, warm and ever present, which made her bite her lip and sigh. "Yep... Doggy is definitely my favorite position."

"Especially standing up," he added, a small smile adorning his lips.

They laughed as the elevator lights came back on, and the weight of what they'd just done came crashing down as with it.

Y/N shuffled to the other side of the elevator to grab her back, almost gasping at the way his cum felt in her panties when she moved. She was afraid it would come out, but there was nothing she could do to stop it except for hope.

The two of them were quiet when the door opened and Garcia met them in the lobby.

"Oh, thank God! I feel so bad I didn't warn you in time before you got stuck in th— Your faces are all red, geez! Was it really that hot in there?"

Thankfully the heatwave gave them both an alibi.

"Y—Yeah," Spencer said with a nod, stepping out of the elevator. "That's twice now I've been stuck in an elevator, and I really wish it would stop happening."

The girls laughed as the three of them made their way to cooler air.

Spencer and Y/N fell in step behind their friend and shared a knowing look as the approached the file room.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

dirty thoughts from a distance

pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!

synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name

word count: 3.8k

warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig

a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!

this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️

masterlist + requests

for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.

the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.

when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.

in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.

for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.

you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.

when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.

you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.

all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.

he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.

it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.

'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.

the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.

'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.

'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.

'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.

'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.

when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.

you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.

'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.

you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.

'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.

this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.

'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.

'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.

chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?

'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.

'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.

chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.

'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.

so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.

after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?

he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.

'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'

'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.

'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?

the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.

'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.

your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.

when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.

desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.

you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.

eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.

you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.

'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?

'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.

to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.

'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.

'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.

'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'

'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?

he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.

'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'

'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.

he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.

'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.

you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.

while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.

after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.

without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.

he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.

'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.

you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.

not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.

'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.

'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?

but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.

you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.

'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'

he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.

'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.

when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.

at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.

'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.

he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.

'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.

you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.

when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.

changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.

'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.

'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.

driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.

changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.

'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.

'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.

'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.

'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.

'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.

'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.

'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.

#ji changmin smut #ji changmin scenario #the boyz q smut #the boyz q scenario #the boyz changmin smut #the boyz changmin scenario #the boyz ji changmin smut #the boyz ji changmin scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #the boyz #ji changmin #the boyz changmin #the boyz q #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop #smut

488 notes · View notes

nationalharryleague · 3 years

Text

Diplomacy

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers Royal AU

Word count: 12K (I may have gotten carried away)

Warnings: Parental Death, an American writing about monarchies she doesn’t understand

A/N: Hi everyone! I have been working on this one for a while and it’s by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and I am so proud of it (please be nice)!! I also made a Pinterest board with all the outfits from this if you want to check it out here!! SO SO SO much love to @meetmymouth @bfharry and @hardcandy-harry for helping me out when I needed it and being the most wonderful people in general :) As always, thank you so so much for reading!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and feedback/reblogs mean the world!!!

****

Y/N knew from the day she could understand the concept of marriage that she would one day be married to the little prince with wild brown curls her mother always forced her to play with. She still vividly remembered the first time he told her that she was ugly and that he hated her. She was only five years old at the time.

Fortunately, she hated him just as much as he hated her. He was rude, somehow always sticky, and seemed to have no filter or manners, letting every nasty thing he could think of fall past his lips in daggers aimed at his future wife.

As they grew older, their animosity only grew, from petty to school yard quarrels to attacks on their personalities and who they were as people. Despite her pleas to her mother to be sent to a different boarding school than the one he was already attending, she was shipped off.

She studied judiciously, what was expected of every future queen, while she watched Harry meander through his schooling. He never seemed to listen in class, never studied, and seemed to only care about football and girls. She watched with jealousy and contempt as he flirted with every girl at their school, every girl except the one he knew he was to marry; while every boy in the school knew Y/N was off limits, direct orders from the crown.

It made her uncomfortable how much she disliked him. She was not a hateful person, having been trained well to treat everyone with dignity and respect, she was a princess after all. But something about Harry just got under her skin. She barely was able to control the instinctive eye roll whenever his name was mentioned and she often pretended to gag when discussing him with her friends, especially when one of them would inevitably call him ‘dreamy.’

The happiest day of her life was the day she watched him graduate, knowing she had been awarded years of peace without having to listen to his taunts or watch him flirt with everything that breathed. During those years, she flourished. She grew from a timid girl in line for power to a confident young woman preparing for the crown. She knew her country through and through, her constitution front to back, and had even begun studying Harry’s country as well. Whether she liked it or not, she knew she would have to pick up his slack in governing his kingdom eventually, she might as well be good at it.

Four more years of education at Cambridge, brought four more years of growth and being free from Harry, but the deal she had made with her mother was quickly coming to a close. As soon as she finished her education, their engagement would be made official and wedding planning would commence. While she was tempted to beg for some sort of delay or escape, she understood this was her duty. She owed this to her people, and soon to Harry’s as well; her mother was counting on her.

For the first time in too many years, she stood inside her former and future home. She remembered running through the halls of the massive palace under the ornate ceilings that now hung above her again; reality was sinking in. Through the massive wooden doors that sat in front of her, she knew her fate awaited; a fate named Harry. With a deep breath she steeled herself and smoothed the blush pink lace skirt of her dress, preparing to see the face that had haunted her for so long.

The first thing she noticed was the playful smirk that she associated so closely with his taunts from when they were children. It was the smirk that made her stomach drop; she could only imagine the nasty things that could come past those lips now. He had years to practice.

He stood confidently next to her mother, who had a bright and triumphant grin on her face. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored forest green suit, decorated with his coat of arms pin on the lapel. She wished for the vibrance of his green eyes to lessen but the tone of his suit only made them more intense than she had remembered.

“Harry,” she breathed, as diplomatically and with as much confidence as she could muster. “It’s good to see you,” she lied, reaching her hand out for him to kiss in the antiquated custom that always made her deeply uncomfortable. He delicately grasped her hand and slowly brought it to his blushed lips, the kiss lingering longer than what could have been considered friendly. His snake-like eyes locked with hers, still containing the mischievous glint she had nightmares about. She couldn’t help but notice the hysterically hopeful smile on her mother’s face as she watched them interact.

“It’s always a pleasure, your highness,” he hummed. He must have remembered how uncomfortable that title made her. She was honestly impressed at how he managed to lie and antagonize her in the first sentence he had said to her in over six years.

“Please call me Y/N,” she instructed as politely as possible.

“As you wish,” he said with a conniving smirk on his face. She had been with him no more than two minutes and she already wanted to run for her life. But this wasn’t about her, her country would need a leader soon, and unfortunately, that had to be her.

Her mother rushed over excitedly between the two, breaking the contemptuous silence that had built between them. “Oh children, it’s so nice to see you two back together again. I remember when you used to play when you were little. Always teasing, like you had the biggest crushes on each other.” ‘Teasing’ is a nice way to refer to torture, Y/N thought to herself, never daring to verbalize a thought like that.

“We did always have fun didn’t we, Y/N?” Harry asked her, a thin glaze of politeness coating his malice.

“Oh yes, we did. I still have a scar on my thigh from when you pushed me off the monkey bars.” Her tone was tight lipped and curt, her politeness beginning to give way to the verbal lashing she was dreaming of giving him.

“You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly hit the ground. She knew he was a dirty good for nothing flirt, but in front of her mother? If her mother hadn't gently grasped both of their hands, she would have stomped out of the room. Her mother’s gentle touch brought her mind back to what this was all about once again.

“Harry is going to be staying with us from now on,” her mother interjected, clearly sensing the animosity between them. “Oh, and I nearly forgot! Harry, I believe you have something for Y/N, correct?”

“Of course.” He flashed his charming smiles at her poor mother, “How could I have forgotten about that?”

She watched him intently as he reached for the pocket inside his suit jacket, pulling out a small indigo colored velvet box. He opened the box with delicate hands to reveal one of the most gorgeous engagement rings Y/N had ever seen. A deep green emerald sat inside a ring of crystal clear diamond florets, all placed meticulously with care into a gold setting, the color of the velvet intensifying the emerald stone. “It was my grandmother’s,” he spoke softly, the first time she had ever heard him speak with any emotion or genuine feeling. “Before she died, she said she wanted you to have it. She was the mastermind of this arrangement afterall,” he said with a slight chuckle. “For formality’s sake,” he began with a sigh, “will you marry me?”

No, passed through Y/N’s head, but “Yes” fell from her lips. While her heart broke for herself and any chance she had of finding true love, the smile and happy tears in her mother’s eyes reminded her why she was doing all of this. She needs me to do this, Y/N thought to herself, my country is going to need a leader.

Their engagement was announced later that day by royal decree and their wedding was scheduled for the next month. There was no going back now.

The palace was in a flurry of planning and plotting for the big day. Y/N was rushed from meeting to meeting, instructed to make decisions about everything and anything she wanted for the wedding. She stared at floral arrangements until her eyes hurt and flipped through magazines looking at bridesmaid and flower girl dresses until her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Unsurprisingly to Y/N, Harry was there for almost none of it. Although, she wasn’t exactly complaining about his absence.

He only surfaced when food or his suit was involved. In one vile incident, he arrived at the cake tasting with a wad of gum in his mouth, which was not only strictly prohibited for royals because it could be perceived as being too casual, but Y/N almost called off the entire wedding when she watched him stick chewed bubble gum to the bottom of a 200 year old handcrafted dining table.

“Were you raised by wolves?” she asked through gritted teeth while scolding him and desperately trying to remove the mess.

“Nannies, actually.” She knew by the smirk on his face that he wasn’t done with whatever antagonistic taunts that were planned to fall from his lips. “I’m pretty wild in the bedroom too, wifey.”

His crude comments were meant to hurt her and make her uncomfortable. He knew from their time in school together that she was constantly watched and kept far away from the gaze of any peaking boys, shining a spotlight on the massive double standard between the pair of future rulers. She wore a cloak of inexperience and innocence given to her against her will that embarrassed her to no end, and he knew that the easiest way to pinken her cheeks was to mention sex in any way. He aimed to fluster the poor girl and he got away with it anytime he flashed his dimples in a devilish smirk.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and furry before she got up from the table and stormed out of the room, muttering “pick whatever fucking cake you want,” before flying down the hallway to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

She felt frustrated tears pricking at her eyes as she slid down the back of the heavy wooden door to the floor below her. She let the fabric of her once perfectly steamed dress crumple beneath her and before she let the floodgates of tears open, she looked down at the dainty silver watch that sat on her wrist. You have five minutes until your appointment with the dressmaker, she thought to herself. Three minutes to cry, two minutes to change into a new dress and fix your makeup.

For three minutes, she let all her anger, frustration, and heartbreak fall out of her in loud sobs that anyone on the other side of the door was sure to hear. For three minutes, she let herself feel every angry emotion she had ever felt towards Harry. For three minutes, she didn’t care about her country or her mother needing this wedding. For three minutes, she didn’t care about anything other than her hurt. But only for three minutes.

Then she wiped the tears away, picked herself up off the floor, dressed herself in her favorite navy blue dress, fixed her mascara, and pressed a cool cloth on her cheeks to quell their angry heat. And then she went to see the dressmaker.

The only joy Y/N got out of this whole ordeal was getting to see her dressmaker, Agnes. Agnes was a kind and quiet old woman who was one of the most talented people she had ever met. The pair would sit together for hours discussing styles, the only time her schedule allowed her to relax, and the woman was in the middle of crafting the gown of Y/N’s dreams. It was a lace long sleeved gown with a cathedral length train. The top portion of the lace was sheer, making a strapless neckline visible, before the delicately crafted lace moved crawled up Y/N’s neck into a high collar neckline. It was reserved, but elegant and unique; “just like you,” Agnes once said.

The first time Y/N was able to try the dress on was bittersweet. The dress was stunning and it made her feel like the princess she was, but she did shed a tear thinking about how this moment was tainted with Harry. She wouldn’t be wearing this dress while walking down the aisle to marry the love of her life, she was marrying someone she would consider an enemy.

She bowed down reverently when her mother placed a veil and tiara on her head. The tiara was encrusted with diamonds and speckled with emeralds that happened to match her engagement ring. The tiara was an heirloom and every woman in her family had worn it while getting married for the last two hundred years.

Her mother wept softly before her, a proud smile on her lips. “I’m so happy I get to see you in the wedding tiara before I go, sweetheart,” she said leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I know you and Harry aren’t always a perfect pair and neither were your father and I, but we made you.” The queen’s eyes flashed over her face trying to take her in, “And you turned out to be my proudest achievement and the savior of a nation.”

“Thank you, Mama.” She hadn’t called her mother by that name since she was a young girl but it just felt right at that moment. She felt like a child, needing someone to take care of her while she waited for a country to fall on her shoulders.

“I will always guide you through whatever I can,” she said tenderly. “Even when I’m not here, I will always be with you.” Y/N watched as her mother’s eyes welled with more tears, excusing herself quickly before they grew more intense.

Not more than five minutes later, she heard the obnoxious whistling that she had begun to hear in her nightmares from down the hall. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to burst through the door, not only interrupting her fitting, but seeing the dress before the wedding day.

Like all members of traditional royal families, Y/N was extremely superstitious. Her heart immediately broke as she watched his eyes look her up and down, like there was a little piece of her that thought if they did everything right and didn’t break any traditional rules, maybe they would work out. What hurt her even more was that he didn’t even try to leave. He just sat down on a chair, smacking his gum, and stared at her like he was doing nothing wrong. Her eyes were still filled with tears from the emotional moment with her mother and they continued to flow, no longer out of love, but out of anger and frustration.

“Agnes,” Y/N finally spoke, voice cracking as she tried to hold back her tears, “will you excuse us for a moment?”

“Yes, your highness,” Agnes took delicate steps backwards like she was expecting a bomb to go off, before turning around and scurrying out of the room. Her instincts were correct, because at that moment, Y/N exploded.

“What did I ever do to you Harry?” she questioned angrily. “Why are you so determined to absolutely ruin my life? It’s bad enough that I am having an arranged marriage, not even one that I have the tiniest bit of say in.” She watched Harry’s eyes grow wide, like he had never expected her to stand up to him. “I have spent my entire life being watched and guarded, and avoided by every man I’ve ever gotten close to because I was already claimed by someone who wanted nothing to do with me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had raised her voice like this at someone; she wasn’t sure if she ever had before. “You can’t even pretend that you like me or that we won't be miserable for our entire lives.”

“Y/N, I don’t want this either,” he spoke after a moment of silence, the quiet only broken by Y/N’s heaving breath. “Why can’t you just calm down?”

“Why can’t I calm down?” she repeated. “Maybe because my country is looking to me to become it’s queen. I can’t give myself to my people when I am worrying about you and your incompetence. You may not become king in your country for another 30 years; you have time to learn and grow into a ruler because you’re in my monarchy and you get to learn here first. You’re playing king with my people. Millions of people rely on us the second I am crowned and you act like your irresponsibility doesn’t have far reaching consequences.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” he spat back at her, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed in front of himself as he sat back in the chair. “I can’t believe I have to marry you and into this family.”

Y/N felt like she had been punched in the gut. She was stuck with this man for the rest of her life and here he was, disrespecting her, her people, and her family. “Get out,” she said under her breath. When he didn’t move from his seat, she began to yell once again, “Get out! I mean it!” She dropped her voice once again, and spoke more seriously than she ever had before. “I have never hated anymore more than I hate you, Harry. I am doing all of this because I love my country and my people, but I want you to know, I will never be happy because of you.”

For a moment, through her tears, it looked like he had been hurt because of her words, but he was gone from the room before she could confirm it.

She fell to her knees on the dress platform, surrounded by the piles of pure white fabric. She was a perfectly dressed ball of furry and sobs, angry at the world and her predicament. Leaning over and putting her head in her hands, she felt the tiara as it began to slip off her head, falling into her lap.

Y/N picked up the tiara, using gentle reverent hands, examining it closely. The tiara represented the monarchy and every female ruler in her family that had come before her. It shined and dazzled in the bright lights of the room, its crystal clear and emerald stones reflecting multi colored light onto the crisp white of the dress below her. “I’m doing this for you,” she whispered quietly to the tiara like it could answer, tears still silently rolling down her face.

***

They didn’t speak again for almost a week. They communicated solely through their royal secretaries, sending the poor men back and forth with angry messages, almost gossiping about what was happening with each member of the pair when they returned to the sender. Y/N hated Harry, Harry hated Y/N; the same sentiment sent back and forth over and over. The two were driving fast towards a brick wall, and the brick wall was their wedding.

When she woke up one morning about a week before their nuptials, there was a small envelope sitting on the ground like it had been slid underneath her bedroom door. We have to talk, was all it read. It was not lost on her that the stationary had a small olive branch illustrated onto the page.

Later that afternoon, they met in the garden. It felt like a neutral place to talk, the palace obviously being her territory. She had worn a casual flowing white dress, like she was raising a white flag; and she carefully walked with a mug of black coffee, a peace offering of sorts, careful not to get any of the dark liquid on the fabric of her dress.

She found him along a bed of purple Hyacinths, their sweet perfume enveloping them both, sitting on the soft ground dressed in the most casual clothes she had ever seen him in. He was wearing a simple lilac button up and a pair of jeans. He seemed more approachable this way, without the tailoring and the coat of arms that always sat on his lapel. The golden highlights in his curls came out in the sun and his tanned skin seemed to glow. He held a rose colored leather bound notebook in his hands.

“Hi,” she said softly, a sharp contrast to her screaming the last time they spoke. “I brought you a coffee. The nice ladies in the kitchen say you take it black.” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he gave her a friendly but unenthusiastic smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, as she handed him the hot mug.

“Can I sit?”

“I’m not in charge of you,” he mumbled into the cup taking a sip. It wasn’t until she noticed how his eyebrow shot up and how his eyes had a playful gleam in them, that her offence washed away. “Of course, you can sit down.”

“What’s the book for?” she asked gently once she settled on the ground a safe distance away from him. She decided a few grass stains were worth being on speaking terms with the man she was supposed to marry.

“Um, it’s actually for you.” He reached over and placed the book in her hands. She ran her hands over her initials that had been embossed onto the leather cover. “I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while,” he said quietly, “I remember you used to write a lot when we were in school together. I thought you would like it.” She felt a confusing mixture of thankfulness for the book, guilt for her outburst, and all the frustration that she still held towards him.

“Thank you, Harry. That was really thoughtful of you.”

A silence hung among them, neither of them sure of the next steps this conversation had to take.

“Can we talk?” Harry asked, finally breaking the tension between the pair.

“Yes, please,” she answered just as quickly as he had asked.

“I wanted to apologize for interrupting your fitting like that. I didn’t know all the traditions meant so much to you and I never meant to make you so upset.” She had never heard Harry apologize before, to anyone else, and definitely not to her.

Before that moment, she had always thought of him as an impenetrable force, wondering if there even was a soul or a conscience in his body. But here he was, vulnerability and all, offering an olive branch and an apology.

“Thank you,” she said cautiously, wading into the almost friendly waters she had never been in with him. “I’m sorry for screaming at you like that. I said some very hurtful things to you.”

“So have I.”

“I want you to know that I don’t hate you and I shouldn’t have said I did. But, I don’t necessarily like you either, Harry,” she said, deciding now was the time they needed to open the line of communication. One of them would eventually combust if they continued on with their hatred like this. “You have tortured me since we were little kids and it’s going to take me some time for me to get over that.” She watched as he nodded his head along with her words, seeming to listen intently.

“I feel like that is also something I should apologize for. No offence, but I didn’t want to get married to you either- still don’t, but I was much more of a dick about it then,” he let out a light laugh, flashing one of his famous dimples before releasing a sigh. “I took out not having control of my life out on you and I’m sorry.” She never thought she would receive validation for all the hurt he put her through for so long.

“Listen, we are getting married as part of a diplomatic partnership,” she began, “I feel like we should at least act diplomatic towards each other.”

“Does that mean that we have to be friends?”

“Definitely not. Just not enemies.”

“I think I can do that, wifey.”

***

The next week passed in a surprisingly civil blur for them both. Y/N was still in the throws of getting ready for a wedding and Harry was off doing whatever Harry usually did. She didn’t expect him to be doing much but she was just glad he was out of her hair. But when they did run into each other, usually at some sort of meeting surrounding the menu, they had a new found respect for the other.

The pair hadn’t been fighting which was nice for a change, even though it did raise some eyebrows in both of their staff. At her final dress fitting two days before the wedding Agnes had asked her if she was ready to be a married woman. “Absolutely not,” Y/N had laughed, “but it’s my responsibility to my people and my country. I have lived the most privileged life imaginable up until this point, it’s time for me to begin my duties.”

“You’re a good girl, your highness. You’re going to make a great queen when the time comes. Even with a husband you may have to wrangle sometimes.” She ended her compliments with a giggle as she zipped Y/N into the dress, and she felt her heart warm. Agnes placed the final touches of the veil and tiara on top of her head, giving her a nod of permission to finally look at herself in the mirror.

The dress fit her like a glove. The delicate lace ran the expanse of the dress, starting at the very back of her immensely long train and crawling its way all the way to Y/N’s throat, and the fitted top half gave way to a full ball gown skirt. Y/N’s eyes followed the intricate lace patterns down her arm, eyes eventually landing on her hand and the ring that sat upon it. For the first time since it had begun to sit on her ring finger, she didn’t want to throw it across the room in frustration. It really was gorgeous and the tiny inkling of respect she had for Harry now made it much less painful to look at.

Staring at the mirror, she noticed the blurring of her vision and the wetness on her cheeks.

“I really am getting married, aren’t I?” she asked with a disbelieving laugh.

“Yes you are, your highness.” Agnes looked up at her through her thick lensed glasses with a proud smile on her face. “Now, let’s get you out of this contraption so you can go rest up for the big day.” Anges’ skilled hands freed Y/N from the beautiful layers of fabric and tulle and sent her on her way back to her bedroom.

Y/N was finally almost asleep in the early hours of the morning when she heard a gentle and almost timid knock on her door. She could have ignored it, rolled back over and let her dreams take her, but for some reason it felt important for her to get out of bed and answer the door. Her bare feet hit the cold wood floors and she tip-toed her way to the door.

When she grabbed the knob to open it, she heard a familiar voice say “don’t open the door! I don’t think I’m supposed to see you,” in a hurried and hushed tone.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice was gravelly with exhaustion and had an apprehensive, almost nervous quality she had never heard from him before.

“Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He said it so softly she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if her ear wasn’t pressed up against the doorway. The sentiment brought a smile to her lips and she wasn’t completely sure why. She was quiet for a moment, deciding if she wanted to turn him away or not when she heard him sarcastically ask, “What? I’m not allowed to talk to my wife?”

“I’m not your wife yet,” she reminded him with a tired chuckle. “But we can talk,” she assured him. “I’m going to sit down, okay? My legs are tired from my heels all day.” She kneeled down and leaned herself up against the hard wooden door.

She had been in this same position only a few weeks before, angry at the world and wanting to kill the man on the other side of it; but here she was, speaking to him willingly, even joking with him. She listened close as his own body rested against the floor and leaned on the opposite side, mirroring her own position.

“Those heels really hurt, don’t they?” he asked, voice still hushed. If she wasn’t so tired, she might have even said she heard a smile in his voice.

“Yeah, they are like little death traps for your feet and legs.” He let out a small laugh on the other side and her lips pulled into a smile that she hadn’t given them permission for.

“How many pairs do you have? You always match your dress to your shoes so you must have a ton.”

She was gradually learning that he was much more observant than she had originally thought. He apparently wasn’t the dumb boy that she remembered from school anymore.

“Too many,” she said with a soft laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m wearing my favorites tomorrow.”

“And which ones are those?”

“They’re white, obviously; they have to match,” she smiled. “They have a green gem at the toes. They match the tiara I’ll be wearing.” She stopped for a moment before continuing on. “And your grandmother’s ring.” She played with the gold band that sat on her ring finger, still somehow dazzling in the very limited light of her dark room. “Thank you, by the way. It’s gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome. She wanted you to have it.”

“Did she really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said confidently on the other side of the door. She imagined him nodding along with his words to emphasize his point, as he often did while speaking. “She kept tabs on you while we were growing up. She was always talking about how smart you seemed and that you would be a good queen one day. If I didn’t know better, I would say she liked you more than me growing up.” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up with the information. She was flattered by his grandmother’s opinion of her, but her heart also ached for Harry.

“I’m sure that's not true.”

“I think it was. I was always screwing up in one way or another; always creating messes that her and my parents had to clean up.” He paused for a moment and she heard him let out a long sigh. “Always running around with other girls and making the one I was supposed to marry feel like shit.”

She wished she could see his face. She wished that she could get a read on his emotions. But there was, literally and figuratively, a wall between them.

“Y/N,” she heard his voice squeak out through a voice crack, “I really am sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”

“I know. I forgive you, Harry.”

Saying those four words, lifted a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying off her shoulders. This moment felt like an absolution, a time to wipe their long and complicated slate clean. There was no better time for them to start anew than the night before they began the next chapter of their lives. But this chapter would be together, as a pair and a team.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry too, Harry. I know this all had to happen so fast so I could take the throne, but I know you thought you had more time. I thought I did too.”

“What do you mean? Why did it have to happen so fast?” he asked.

First, Y/N was confused. There was a very obvious answer. Then her heart began to break for him. He wasn’t ready at all for what was coming. No one must have told him.

“Harry,” she said softly, “Do you know about my mother?”

“What do you mean?” From the tone in his voice, she knew he genuinely didn’t know.

“My mom-” she began gently, swallowing the lump in her throat that always appeared when she began to talk about this, “My mom is dying, Harry.” She heard a soft gasp through the door before she went on. “She’s been sick for a while, but things are getting really bad. Her doctors think she only has a couple weeks left.”

She listened to his breathing stop, like his mouth was hung open searching for something to say. He was quiet for a few moments before he landed on what seemed like the only thing he had said over and over these last few weeks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you if you need to talk about all of this.”

His offer was not lost on her. The idea of Harry being someone she could confide in was a new one, but one that she would consider.

“It’s okay.” She choked out, wiping a few stray tears that had found their way out, off her cheeks. “I have had enough time to come to terms with it. But in our archaic constitution,” she said with a biting distaste in her voice, “a woman cannot become the sovereign of the country if she isn't married. That’s why this all had to happen so fast.”

“I see.”

The pair were quiet, both curled up on opposite sides of the wall; simultaneously experiencing a unique type of loneliness that only the other could understand. In less than 12 hours, they would be married, linked by an oath that neither of them had signed up for, in circumstances with responsibilities that neither of them were ready to handle.

“Harry,” she peeped, breaking a silence that hung heavy over them both, “you should go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

She listened through the door to the rustling of him getting up off the floor beside her. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“So will I. I’ll see you at the altar, wifey.”

She let out a strangled laugh at the nickname he had adopted for her, her throat still tight from crying. She listened to his foot falls until they disappeared down the hallway before she mustered the strength to drag herself back to bed. Her staff was on strict orders from the wedding planner to have her woken up at 8 to begin getting ready and she wanted to get some rest before the sun came up.

And like clockwork, her curtains were thrown wide open at 8 am, sunlight blinding her as she woke up. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to her rude awakening, but soon she could make out the bustling room around her. Hair stylists, makeup artists, bridesmaids, flower girls, her mother, and some lady with an ear piece and a clip board fluttered about her bedroom with an excited chatter. Taking in the chaotic scene, it really hit her. Holy shit, I’m getting married today, she thought.

Her stomach twisted and turned in knots as the gaggle of women fawned over her, instructing her to stay still and “stop shaking” as they applied layers of makeup and fussed with her hair. Her hair was pulled into a delicately crafted low bun and her eyes were painted with neutral tones and a little bit of shimmer. Diamond and emerald earrings were threaded through her ear lobes and her fingernails were inspected to see if they needed any touch ups. Her shaky body was zipped into her dress and her feet slipped into her heels while her cathedral length veil was pinned meticulously into her hair. She was only missing one last thing.

“Your tiara, your highness,” her mother joked through the happy and proud tears welling up in her eyes. The tiara was the one last thing she needed before she was sent on her way to the cathedral. She bent down slightly, her mother delicately crowing her; when she rose, she couldn't help but grab onto her mother and hold her tight. It was hard for her not to think about the next time she would be crowned, a time when her mother wouldn’t be there to offer the guidance or support Y/N needed.

“I love you, Mama,” was all she said. It was the only reason all of this was happening. She loved her mother too much to let her down.

“I love you more, my princess,” her mother said gently, before turning away and scurrying off to do something else. Y/N tried to ignore the wince on her face when she moved too fast and the slight wheeze she made when she was speaking.

Surveying the scene around her, Y/N felt like she was about to die. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears, her palms were slick with sweat, her breathing was labored, and her chest felt tight. She had never been so overwhelmed with anxiety before. She had known today was coming her entire life, but the fact that it really was here was too much for her brain to wrap itself around.

It was like she had blacked out from fear, an hour of her life completely unaccounted for. She didn’t remember the last minute checks and touches to her hair and makeup. She didn’t remember her mother delicately resting her veil over her face. She didn’t remember getting in the car bringing her to the cathedral. She didn’t remember someone shoving a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She didn’t remember the music starting up or walking down the aisle of the giant imposing and ornate cathedral.

She was only brought back to reality when she reached the imposing altar and Harry delicately took her hand into his. His green eyes were painted with concern when he saw the worried crease between her eyebrows and the way she was chewing on her bottom lip under her sheer veil, swiping his thumb up and down her skin in an attempt to soothe her. It was the first time he had ever touched her voluntarily; it was a gentle and tender touch, full of care. She gripped back tight onto his hand, holding on for dear life as she thought over everything that was about to happen.

They were instructed to stand forward, watching the officiant as he droned on about love and duty to one’s country and spouse, but their hands stayed clasped tight onto each other, like they were being thrown into a stormy and unpredictable sea and the other’s hand was their only life line. And in a way, they were.

When they were told to turn towards each other to begin their vows, their eyes locked and she began to really look at him for the first time. She watched his plush lips closely as he recited the words fed to him from the officiant, although she didn’t hear a single word of them. Her eyes traced his strong cheekbones and landed on his adorable button nose before returning back to his eyes. She noticed the slight blue bags that sat under them, signaling he had just as much trouble sleeping as she did.

His eyes brought her a calm that she hadn’t felt in years, silently telling her that she wasn’t alone in all of this, his warm hands still holding on to hers punctuating that sentiment. There wasn’t anyone else in the massive cathedral but the pair of them anymore, just two scared kids trying to make it through the demands weighing on their shoulders together.

Shaky hands exchanged rings, her heart stopping for a moment when the ring caught and didn’t slide onto his finger gracefully. But her heart regained it’s rhythm when she heard a light chuckle coming from the man across from her, a gentle smile that was just big enough to flash a dimple at her, signaling that it would be okay.

She recited her vows without much thought, letting ‘I do,’ slip past her lips while still entranced by Harry’s intense yet comforting gaze. She watched his strong hands disconnect from hers as he lifted the lace trimming on the veil covering her face, dark lashes flickering down to her glossed lips. She let her eyes fall closed as he leaned in towards her and rested a hand on her cheek, prompted by the officiant and clapping coming from the pews, bracing herself for a feeling of disgust she hoped wouldn’t come.

He carefully connected their lips softly with a sweetness that felt gentle, tender, and caring. But there was more to the kiss than a softness, there was a respect there as well. His hand felt secure and protective on her cheek, and he pulled away with a smile after a short time, sure not to overwhelm her. The feeling of disgust in her belly that she was waiting for never came; if she didn’t know better she would say she felt an excited flutter.

They stood on the altar for a moment and just stared at each other, excited and relief filled smiles creeping into their lips, his dimples prominent. “Shall we, wifey?” Harry beamed with a sigh, extending a hand to lead her back down the aisle, now as a married woman.

“We shall, husband,” she giggled back, cheeks still a fiery red from their contact. Calling him her husband felt foreign, but not unwelcome.

Harry held her hand tight, keeping her in the moment by the warm contact. He held her hand down the aisle and all the way back to the palace, all throughout the signing of their marriage license, and all throughout the many, many photos taken of the two and their wedding party. She found comfort in his warm touch, continuing to ground her through the chaos that unfolded around them. Even when they had briefly disconnected from each other, he was always close by, only a call of his name away.

She was shocked by how careful he was around her giant dress, taking calculated steps to avoid dirtying the crisp white fabric. He was playing the role of a dutiful husband, and was seeming to enjoy it.

They spent the next hours just following orders from wedding planners, shuffled around from place to place, constantly surrounded by people. All she wanted was a moment to speak to him alone, but it seemed far out of reach.

That moment finally came in the middle of a dance floor, with hundreds of eyes staring at them as they danced. They swayed together slowly, a gentle rock to the delicate sound of strings. “Thank you for staying by me all day, Harry,” she said quietly, hoping that no one could hear them over the music.

“No need to thank me, wifey,” he said with a chuckle, his lips grazing against her ear as he spoke. She chuckled like always at the name and shook her head.

“I mean it. I don’t think I would have been able to get through all of this,” she said looking out at the crowd watching them and the giant ornately decorated ballroom they were in the center of, “if you hadn’t been by my side.”

“I quite like it, actually. I could get used to standing with you.” He said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, while her heart just about stopped.

She wasn’t able to answer before the music slowed to a stop and they were pulled apart by their mothers and dragged off to speak to “very important” people. He seemed just as disappointed as she was when they were separated.

When they finally found each other again, Y/N had changed. She had abandoned her massive conservative skirt of tulle and lace for a creamy silk gown that she could actually move in. It was a simple a-line v-neck dress with cap sleeves, but the back held a deep V that ended at the small of her back coupled with a loosely tied bow.

The cool breeze on her back made her feel sexy. She knew she was pushing the boundaries on what was appropriate for a princess and she loved it.

“My darling, you look gorgeous,” he said, taking her hand and spinning her so he could fully take in the new dress, mindful of her tiara and trying his best not to knock it off. Her cheeks burned at his flattery, something he could surely feel when he pulled her close and pressed a delicate kiss on her cheek.

“You’re just saying that,” she said bashfully staring down at the floor, deflecting the compliment easily.

“Wifey,” he singsonged the teasing nickname that had evolved into a term of endearment. He lifted her chin to look up at him and he looked down at her with the most honest expression she had ever seen him wear. “You look beautiful. You have all day.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She spoke quietly, barely audible, unsure what to make of her husband’s compliments. He leaned in to her, layed a tender kiss on her forehead, and dragged her across the room to the dance floor.

They stayed on the dancefloor most of the night, almost always touching in some sort of way, while dancing and celebrating with their friends and family.

And Y/N was happy; a genuine type of happiness that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously, this wasn’t ideal. She was now married to a man she knew virtually nothing about, who had been a sworn enemy of hers only a few days ago, and had only begun enjoying his company last night. But happiness isn’t linear, she thought to herself.

Their night had passed in a joyous and opulent blur that went late into the night; full of food, dancing, and a swimming pool's worth of champagne.

Eventually both of them were led, by dutiful staff as they were both quite drunk and couldn’t exactly be trusted to make it on their own, to their new bedroom, or bedrooms depending on who you asked. They were led into the massive room consisting of two separate suites connected by a dressing room of sorts in a cloud of giggles, finding themselves in a fit of laughter after passing a portrait in the hall of some distant ancestor who had an amusing mustache.

“Thank you for leading us back,” she said, trying to gain a sober composure to the men who had flanked them on their way back, “you can go now.” The men shared a look between themselves that seemed to say ‘someone should be watching them,’ but followed the princess’ orders anyway.

“I just can’t understand how he got it to curl like that,” Harry cackled, beginning to wheeze from his hysterics and slightly stumbling as he was doubled over.

“Maybe it was natural like your curls,” she suggested, through her giggling hiccups that she let return when their staff left the room. “I quite like your curls, ya know? I like it when you let them grow a bit.”

They were still holding hands, despite being alone in their new found privacy, no longer needing the support from the other to shield them from the pressure of looking eyes.

“Then I’ll have to grow them out a bit,” he said, a smile still beaming at her with droopy drunk eyes. He tugged on her hand softly, bringing her body into his and setting his hand on the exposed skin of the small of her back. His hands were warm and soft and in the moment, she never wanted his hand to move from that spot again. “I can’t refuse the princess’ orders.” His voice had dropped low, not to a whisper but to a soft and lazy volume that made her feel safe.

Their faces were close and she could smell his strong vanilla and sandalwood cologne coming off him that she wanted to envelop herself in. He looked back down at her with a face that was loving, but she attributed it to the alcohol in his system. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with adoration for this man who she had spent so much of her life violently hating. Admiring and adoring him was much easier on her soul than harboring the hatred that had eaten at her for so long.

“I have another order,” she spoke quietly, letting the words tumble from her lips without her usually logical brain’s permission, “I want you to kiss me. For real this time.”

His lips were on hers as soon as the words left her own. It was sloppy and sweet, but with a passion behind it that Y/N felt in her bones. Their lips moved in a drunken rhythm, with Harry’s aimless wandering hands sliding up and down the silk of her dress before resting on her waist and pulling her impossibly closer to him. Her hands found and twirled the few of Harry’s curls that remained after they had cut his hair shorter than usual for the ceremony at the base of his neck and sunk her fingers into it, pulling him further into the kiss by his hair.

It was not long before their tongues found each other and the kiss deepened into a desperate dance of gasping for breath and soft moans into each other’s mouths. Harry’s mouth left hers and began to press sloppy open mouthed kisses down her neck while fiddling with the bow at the back of her gown that would release it from her frame.

Feeling him fuss with the bow made her pounding heart shift from one of excitement, to one of panic. This was too soon, she didn’t know him well enough. She didn’t know his favorite color or any of his hobbies. She didn’t know how he liked his tea, or if he drank it at all. She didn’t even know his middle name.

Her fuzzy mind couldn’t deny how much she didn’t know about him or the anxiety that made her want to pull away from the man and run.

“Harry,” she breathed, voicing the apprehension and anxiety that had begun to rise in her chest, “please stop.” She had squeaked out the words, a mix of embarrassment and panic taking over her slightly slurred words.

His hands froze, pulling himself back quickly from her, a mix of worry and guilt on his face. “Did I do something wrong? I just thought…” he let his words drop off, his own fuzzy mind not sure of what to say either.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes became glassy.

She was embarrassed to admit it, but the kiss on the altar that morning was the first time she had ever had another pair of lips on her own. Her entire life she had been shielded from men with any interest in her, her affection already spoken for and claimed. No man had ever held her hand romantically, or danced with her, or kissed her with the passion Harry just had.

Harry had lived a life with freedom that she had never been granted. She remembered all the times she had watched him interact with various girlfriends at school, and remembered the shame she had felt when he had ended up on the cover of tabloids after he was photographed naked and kissing a random woman on a yacht. Every article had ended with the same line that she still knew by heart.

“The prince is arranged to marry Princess Y/N when she comes of age in an effort to unify their countries.”

They had lived very different lives, with very different freedoms up until this point. It was sexist and archaic and unfair, but she couldn’t deny the impacts it had on her while she was around Harry. Even though she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to feel something real for him and she believed that he felt the same; she didn’t fully trust him like that yet. She couldn’t.

“I’ve never done any of this before, Harry. This morning was my first kiss.” Her cheeks burned in a mixture of embarrassment and shame as she spoke the words. “I like you a lot, but today has been nerve wracking and scary enough. I just can’t add another new thing into the mix, especially that. It’s just all too much. I’m sorry.”

Her sheltered and delicate heart couldn’t even bring herself to say the word ‘sex’.

As he listened to her explanation, his features softened. They were no longer fearful that he made a mistake or crossed a boundary, but they moved into a soft and caring smile.

“Y/N, my darling,” he began in a soft and sweet voice, “come here.” He beckoned her with open arms to rest up against his chest again. She had curled her arms in front of herself, holding them close to her body, as she walked into his arms and let herself be enveloped by them while resting her head on his chest. “You are my wife now, but I think we both understand that we are not exactly in this position by choice. I would never ask you to do something you are uncomfortable with and I am sorry that I crossed a boundary.”

“Thank you,” she peeped before he continued on.

“Also, I heard that part when you said you liked me a lot,” she could hear the smirk in his voice, making her cheeks inexplicably hotter. “And I like you a lot too.”

The pair stood in that hold long enough for them to lose track of time, just resting against each other in silence, listening to the other’s breathing. The silence that enveloped them was comforting, but Harry eventually spoke again, inexplicably soft and gentle in tone.

“Y/N, I really want to try to make us work.”

“So do I, Harry.”

The pair stood together in their stillness and peaceful quiet, until she let out a small yawn.

Harry released her from his grasp and began walking around the room, opening wardrobes and dressers searching for something. He breathed a small triumphant noise when he opened a drawer, spinning around with a light pink and baby blue nightgown in his hands.

“Do you need any help getting out of your dress? Would I be allowed to help?” His face was so thoughtful, carefully navigating the boundaries she had made him aware of but not set in stone yet.

She took the nightgown from his hands and slipped it over her head, the silk dress beneath it. “I just need help untying the bow.” Her voice was still low, a quiet and delicate murmur.

His hands carefully untied the bow, turning around for modesty’s sake, only turning back around when he heard the silk hit the floor.

She had begun carefully removing the bobby pins that still held her bun together, causing them both to giggle when her hair was finally released into a giant poof of curls and hair spray.

She looked so sweet to him. This was the first time he had seen her relaxed like this, no longer in a fancy dress, heels, and her hair and makeup done to perfection. She looked like a real person to him, not a princess who would soon become queen.

He moved gingerly towards the door of her room, but not before pressing one more soft kiss to her lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, wifey.”

“Can’t wait, my husband,” she called from under the covers, watching him close the door behind him.

***

The two were sitting on a hot beach, baking in the sun when the call came.

It was day four of their honeymoon and a week after their wedding, spending their time alone together on a small island in the sun neither of them could remember the name to. It was a paradise straight out of a movie, and she swore nothing could ruin it.

They spent their days learning each other well, often joking that they should make up trivia quizzes for each other to see who knew the other best. She had learned that Harry’s eyes lit up like a child when he saw any type of animal, especially the small lizards that would run across the deck hanging off the back of their small beach house. It was also a surprise when she found out he loved to cook, whipping up a meal that could rival some of the chefs at the palace for dinner one night.

But her favorite thing she had learned about him by far, was how he sang in the shower. He had a low and melodic voice that he didn’t know traveled into the house from the outdoor shower. She would sit by the window closest to him, often pretending to write in the pink notebook he had given her in the garden, close her eyes and appreciate the man’s voice. She swore if he wasn’t a prince, he would be a singer.

In the time since their nuptials, the pair had become lovers. Always attached at the hip and sneaking kisses; they were blissfully and unstoppably becoming increasingly obsessed with the other. The word ‘love’ often played at Y/N’s lips, seeming to always be only a drink away from letting it slip out towards him.

Every day, they would walk down a short path from their house to a pristine white sand beach, picnic basket in hand, and sit. Sometimes they would sit in silence, just staring at the clear blue ocean, and other times they would talk about everything and anything that came to mind, or they would read silently next to each other. But they were always holding onto each other; sometimes it was a hand placed gently on the other’s thigh, or fingers intertwined between them.

The shrill ring of Y/N’s phone broke their fantasy while sitting on the beach on the fourth afternoon. Her heart dropped as soon as she heard it, knowing that the palace had agreed not to bother them unless the worst case scenario was happening.

She closed her eyes and braced herself, tears already threatening to breach her eyes, as she answered the phone with shaky hands. “Hello?” she choked out.

“Your highness, you need to come home.” She immediately recognized the panicked voice of her mother’s secretary on the other end. “It’s happening.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to remain as composed as possible. “We’re leaving now.”

Harry’s face held a furrowed brow and concerned eyes as she spoke. He immediately began rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of her palm like he had done on their wedding day, but today, it did nothing to soothe her pain and anxiety.

She hung up the phone before letting out a heart wrenching cry. “We have to go home,” she sobbed. “She is dying.”

The entire journey home was silent after Y/N had composed herself on the beach.

She sat emotionless, staring straight ahead, flinching away every time Harry moved to touch her. She spoke only when absolutely necessary, but her voice brought no tone with it. She had become a shell of herself, losing the warmth behind her eyes that had begun to appear after the wedding.

She felt empty, like she had lost the ability to think, while simultaneously feeling so overwhelmed, by thoughts of her future as queen and the loss of her mother. She had become blank, inside and outside, the happiness she had begun to build for herself with Harry, melting away and leaving the hollowness of grief and dread.

It took them about twelve hours to reach the palace from the time she hung up the phone, but it wasn’t fast enough. The second she stepped out of the car, she saw the guards outside the palace dressed in their black uniforms that were reserved only for the passing of the sovereign. She closed her eyes silently, as if when she opened them up again their uniforms would turn back to their usual blue and maroon; but they didn’t, their clothing still black as night.

Her heels clicked the pavement, maintaining her immaculate posture and steely blank expression as she entered the palace, the loving man she had been excited to have a life with trailing mournfully behind her. She watched as if she was out of her body when she passed people, all now dressed in black, in the hall. They all acted the same.

First, they would give her the saddest look, silently extending their sympathies to the daughter who just lost her mother, and then bowing their heads in respect to the now reigning queen.

“I need to see my mother,” was all she said, before being led into her bedroom.

She hadn’t remembered when her father had died, too young to understand. All she could wrap her head around was that her Daddy had an accident and wasn’t coming home. But she remembered her mother’s cries, loud and earth shattering sobs that traveled up and down the hallways of the palace for all to hear.

She looked like she was just sleeping; arms peacefully crossed over her chest and eyes shut gently. But she was cold when Y/N reached for her hand. She tenderly brought her mothers hand to her lips, and pressed a final kiss to her hand, before walking blankly out of the room.

Her mother was gone. And the country fell onto her shoulders.

She heard Harry saying something as he followed close behind her. While she heard him, she didn’t process a thing he said. She stalked towards their bedroom which was unfortunately on the other side of the palace, locked in her daze. He trailed close behind her the entire way, trying to say anything that could break through to her, and stood dutifully outside the door of her side of the bedroom for an unknown amount of time after she had shut it in his face.

***

She didn’t speak, or show emotion, or allow anyone at all to touch her for three days. Only nodding or shaking her head in response to the rapid firing of questions she was asked about planning her mother’s funeral. Harry only saw glimpses of his wife, or the shell of Y/N that she had become, usually while she shut the door to her bedroom between them.

He left his door open all day everyday.

When he awoke the morning of the funeral and found her bedroom door open, his heart jumped. He slowly walked inside to find her in a room full of black dresses. Dresses had been laid carefully over every surface for her to choose from; the dress she would wear to her mother’s funeral and her first public appearance as queen.

“Good morning,” was all he said, quiet and careful.

The person that looked back at him was someone he didn’t recognize. The light was gone from her eyes, and she wasn’t the woman he was head over heels in love with anymore. She looked like her, but emanated sadness and anxiety like nothing he had ever seen before. Dark blue bags held under her eyes from not sleeping, her hair was tied behind her head in a messy unkempt ponytail, and she was dressed in a giant and ill fitting nightgown, shoulders bent down in a fashion that made her look small. The only feature of the put together, confident, and commanding woman he was married to that remained was the bright emerald ring that sat on her ring finger.

“I can’t decide what to wear,” she said without expression, but the tears started to fall down her face before she could finish the sentence. Harry moved quickly across the room to her when he saw her knees began to shake, catching her just in time as they gave out and she fell into his arms, settling them both onto the soft carpeted ground. That was when her heaving sobs began. It was a bone rattling cry that consumed her wholly and her exhausted and hurting brain could only put together two thoughts: she missed her mom, and she didn’t want to take on all this responsibility alone.

She sobbed into his shirt, holding onto the soft and worn fabric of his t-shirt for dear life, and he held her close to his body, slowly rubbing her back and letting all of the emotion fall out of her. She cried for a long time, giving herself a pounding headache, and when the tears finally began to slow she connected her tearful ones with Harry’s ever vibrant green eyes and mumbled, “I just thought I had more time with her. And I thought we had more time to just be us.”

“I know you did, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reveled in being able to touch her again, as his heart broke a little every time she would pull away from his touch.

“I’m not ready, Harry. I can’t do this all alone. It’s too much.” She spoke softly, shaking her head from side to side, still choking back sobs as she tried to regain her composure.

“You’re not doing anything on your own. The second we were married, your problems and responsibilities became mine too,” he assured her. He moved to grab her left hand in his own and showed her the rings that sat on their hands. “Remember these?” he breathed with a light chuckle. “You’re stuck with me for life, whether you like it or not.”

He watched as she processed the realization that he was there to lighten the load. It was like a lightbulb had gone off for her, slowly nodding along with what he said. She let her eyes fall to the dresses that surrounded her, but he gently took her chin and directed her eyes back to his. “Y/N, we are a team. I am always here for you and I always will be.”

He took a deep long breath before continuing on, “I love you.”

She didn’t think when she pressed her lips to him, she just did, desperate to be close to him again. A coldness had swallowed her for days, and his words brought back the smallest feeling of warmth, a glimpse of hope she had been desperate to find.

She had known the passing of her mother was coming for years, her illness getting progressively worse over time. She had always believed it would bring more pressure, weighing down on her heavier than ever before. But looking at their rings and the man before her, she was hit by the fact that she never had to carry the weight of the country all by herself. She had Harry the whole time. He was her partner; in life and in power.

“I love you, too,” she said after breaking the kiss, salty from all her tears. She was quiet and her voice was still shaking and unsteady from her sobs, but he was there, holding her and keeping her safe.

He held her hand, slotting their fingers together as he picked them both up off the ground and helped her pick a dress. It was a black blazer dress that fell below her knees with three crystal buttons going down the left side. Harry carefully helped her into the dress, his warm and respectful hands sliding up her bare skin as he pulled it up over her shoulders. He then sat her on her bed, and began to carefully brush out her hair, doing his best to work through knots without hurting the girl who was already hurting enough. And he held one of her hands gently while she sat at her vanity and did her makeup with her free one. He refused to leave her side.

Harry stayed firmly planted by her side throughout the entire day, not daring to leave her while she needed him. He knew that photos of him holding her hand tight during the funeral would make the press, and the photos of him wiping away her tears as they left would make the front page, but he didn’t care. She might be the queen, but she was also his Y/N.

***

Their fingers were always locked together, Harry’s thumb passing back and forth over the back of her hand in the steady rhythm he always used when she was stressed. He was there whenever she needed him, gently taking hold, to remind her that he was there and they were a team.

He cradled her hand as she crushed his, gritting through the most excruciating pain she had ever experienced. It felt like her entire body was being ripped apart from the inside out, but Harry’s hand was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was screaming and crying in the small crowded room, feeling like a science experiment as all the doctors looked on at her pain.

But it all stopped when she heard the smallest little cry.

Then shouts of “It’s a girl!”

Exhausted and elated tears flowed freely from her eyes that were locked on the slimy little baby a nurse was burredly placing on her chest. She was so small, delicate and breakable, with strong lungs that screamed out to announce her entrance into the world. And when her eyes opened for the first time, they revealed the same bright sea glass green tone that matched her father, the green she had been falling in love with and swimming around in for years.

This baby was so much more than just a little girl, not only to them, but to their countries. She would forge a kingdom united in the future, a product of peace and partnership. She was a symbol of unity and a future of kindness between their countries. She was the future.

But for right now, the tiny baby was just theirs.

She felt him press a proud kiss to her head before she connected their lips together in a tear filled kiss before they both looked back to their new pride and joy who was still screaming for all the attention.

“She’s beautiful, darling,” he whispered quietly though tears next to her, hand still grasped tightly onto hers. “You did such a good job.”

“Literally couldn’t have done it without you,” she chuckled, still staring down, entranced by the little girl who looked like her daddy.

The pair stayed with their baby, quiet and just being, long after the doctors and nurses left the room. They learned she liked to scream and sleep, about as much as you could learn about someone only hours old. But she didn’t have a name. They had been debating for the last nine months over what the little princess would be called.

“I think she should be named after your mother,” Harry would say.

“But I think she should be named after your grandmother,” She would reply.

Their roundabout banter never left the pair, only changed; from malicious and teasing, to one of loving partnership.

“So neither?” he quipped with a small smirk while holding the little girl tight to his chest.

“I guess we have to compromise; diplomatically,” she said with a giggle, alluding to how they got to this position in the first place.

“I feel like a loving marriage and a new baby is pretty good for diplomatic relations.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Please send feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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