#how did they end up on opposite sides of the court??

[mekatrio]

prev post talking abt klavier valuing truth above all else, more than people's feelings or struggles etc, and thinking abt this quote from kristoph in 4-1 OHHHHH

[finelinefae]

match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,” 

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued. 

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?” 

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 

. . . 

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . . 

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?” 

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?” 

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . . 

It was raining outside. 

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  

“I study,” Y/N stated. 

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says. 

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered. 

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 

The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 

“For now,” He says. 

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 

. . . 

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

[fanttasttica]

Strawberry tarts

Rhysand x reader Living in the Autumn court isn't nice, especially if you are female. Arranged marriages are common, so it wasn't surprising it also happened to you. What of course caught you off guard is that your future husband is Rhysand, High lord of the Night court, who is probably the most dangerous man alive. You heard horror stories about him and his court, but are these stories true? Warnings: misogyny, arranged marriage Word count: 8690 (oops)

Being the daughter of a nobleman in Autumn court wasn't something you would wish for. Truth to be told, it is quite the opposite actually. It is a common knowledge that when a female is born in this court, her only purpose in life is to be wed, often at a very young age. She is raised to dance, sing, entertain and obey her husband. She should do anything he wants, be his perfect little wife and of course, birth as many children, preferably boys, as possible. This is how your mother was raised and therefore, how you were raised. Your parents didn't love each other, a very few people in Autumn court loved their partners. And you knew.. maybe one? Two? It is maybe not that surprising that you no longer believed in love. It was better not to. So you could prevent being disappointed. The only thing you were slightly hoping for is for your husband to be at least a little kind to you and leave no marks on your body, unlike Beron, your High lord, did on his wife.

The feeling of accomplishment couldn't possibly miss your mother. In the end, she was marrying you off to Rhysand, High lord of the Night court. You still weren't sure how that happened. Your father was Beron's close friend, a very important member of his court. From what you were told, you understood that the High lord of night wanted to secure a peace between courts. In the past one engagement already happened, but wasn't successfully sealed in marriage. You heard stories about Morrigan and Eris, Beron's oldest son, an heir. Their story happened many years before you were even born and there still was some tension. Not wanting to risk another female from the Night court to change her mind, they probably decided to try it the opposite way and provide a female from the Autumn court from a man from the Night. And that man happened to be the High lord himself. 

Your wedding gown was modest. A little bit wider skirt, plain without anything to make it more interesting. Neckline up to the neck. White, symbol of purity. This dress was making you anxious. They were suffocating you, or maybe was it the thing they represented? Marriage. Today, you are going to marry probably the most dangerous man in Prythian. You are going to be his wife. His property. You were terrified of the unknown. If you were to be wed to some lord from your court, you would at least know how cruel they were, but about him.. You knew nothing other than his title and name. And that many people feared him. But was he really that bad? Were they telling you these stories because they wanted to warn you or just scared you into submission? Maybe he was secretly kind? You didn't know the answers to your question and you certainly weren't going to get them before you two would be married.

As you stood before the doors that were going to open in a matter of minutes and lead you to the new chapter of your life, you put a mask on your face. You were determined to not let them see your fear. “Don't mess anything up.” Your father hissed into your ear, as he stood beside you, ready to walk you down the aisle. “I won't”, you replied, trying to convince him and also yourself. You didn't have the chance to say anything more, not that you actually had something to say to your father, before the doors finally opened.

There were many guests, who were trying to get a better look at you and, while they stood on both sides as you walked down the aisle. Your heart was pounding fast in your chest and your head was ringing, but you forced yourself to walk forward. You avoided looking at your future husband until the last second, however, when your father finally let go of you and placed your hand into the other, warm one, you looked up and then.. your heart practically stopped. He was gorgeous. His purple eyes, shining like stars in the sky, were looking at you with kindness, as if they were trying to convince you that everything will be better from now on. And you really really wanted to believe them. 

The rest of the ceremony went quiet quickly. You said your vows and exchanged a kiss, well only on a cheek, which was a little bit disappointing but at the same time, it was a relief, because at the end, you didn't want to have your first real kiss in front of this massive audience. Now it was time for a party and that was actually nice. The attention of the guests turned from you to drinks, food, music and dance. You could breathe calmly for the first time today, even when your new husband was sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel his warmth, his scent and power that was radiating from him. Surprisingly, it wasn't scaring you at all. You should be scared of it, of him, that is for sure, but still.. you weren't and ironically, that was something that was scaring you a little bit. “You should eat something”, a velvet voice came from your husband, as you turned to look at him. “Are you not hungry? It is.. a long time since breakfast and of course the ceremony.. Or if you don't like this, I Can arrange something else for you. Whatever you would like.” Looking down on your untouched plate, touched by his kind offer, you decided to speak to him, for the first time. Wel.. for the first time since the ceremony, during which you promised him our loyalty and obedience. “No, but thank you, this.. will do.” You smiled, feeling a little bit shy, as you took your first bite. Citrus roasted duck with crispy potatoes, it wasn't that bad and it was true you should eat, as Rhys said, but your appetite was greatly affected by your nerves. You ate about a third of your plate, before putting your fork and knife down again, still feeling his eyes on you. “That is all?” he sounded surprised, but you only shrugged in response. “I am not that hungry today”, meeting his eyes. There was a hint of understanding. “Perhaps tomorrow I can take you to some restaurant in Velaris. To.. try something new, eat properly. Don't worry, I know what is good” as he flashed his smile at you, you were a little bit confused. “Velaris? What is that?” You never heard of it. Was it some restaurant? He replied simply, “Your new home.”

After hearing those awful things about your husband, you never expected his home to be so.. beautiful. No, magical is actually a better word. You heard about some place called Hewn city. It was described like a dark unwelcoming place, but this was quite the opposite. This city, Velaris, seemed peaceful, full of the happiness of its citizens. After winnowing, Rhysand, as he insisted you to call him, instead of My lord, brought you to this room. Your new room in your new home. It was.. strange to not be in your family's house. Knowing that if you were to go down into the living room, they wouldn't be there. Instead, there would be a bunch of a little bit scary and tall,well.. except Amren, people you knew almost nothing about. As Rhysand told you, many of them were not actually living there, but sometimes it looked like they did and since you didn't know what to think about it, you decided simply not to. Instead, you took a bath, with bubbles in it. Know you smelled like lavenders, while you brushed your hair, looking in the mirror and waiting for Rhysand. As your mother told you the night before, he was supposed to come and make you a women, whatever that meant. Your lack of knowledge wasn't helping to calm down your nerves, as you waited for him. But he never came that night. When you woke up the next day, the sun was already in the sky and birds were singing outside your window. It seemed like a nice morning, calm, until you heard someone almost shouting down in the gardens. To cover yourself up, you took a prepared robe, lying on a chair next to your king sized bet. Maybe you should not have been so curious, but wanting to know what was happening, brought you to a smaller balcony, which was connected to your room. Leaning to a railing, so you could see what was going on, you saw two mens and one woman. Now, actually sawing them, you recognized them immediately. They were at the wedding yesterday, High lords closest friends, his Inner circle. “I am deeply sorry if they woke you up, I told them to wait repeatedly, but.. they are too stubborn.” That velvet voice once again, like music to your ears, brought your attention to the left, where you saw another small balcony. There was a table, two chairs, one currently occupied by the High lord himself. He was drinking coffee, looking at you with a little smile. “It is okay. It's time to wake up anyways.” You didn't mind. “Maybe, but I wanted you to sleep in a little bit. Yesterday was a big day. Only if someone would listen to me for once and not ignore everything I say in my own court.” He raised his words at the end of his sentence, clearly talking to the group below. “Oh common Rhysie, this isn't fair. We only wanted to finally meet your beautiful wife, since you decided yesterday to only keep her for yourself.” The general's voice was provocative, which was new for you. Beron wouldn't tolerate it, however innocently it sounded. “Yeah, that wasn't very nice, Rhys.” That female, Morrigan, said with a grin on her face. The third one, Azriel, turned his attention immediately towards you, ignoring how his friends were taunting your husband.. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a hint of encouraging smile in his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine. It is nice to meet you. All of you.” You smiled politely, looking from Azriel, to Morrigan and lastly Cassian.                   

After freshening your face and dressing up in a nice and elegant dress, you decided to be brave and go downstairs to eat breakfast. You were quite hungry, understandably, since you didn't eat that much yesterday. And you also wanted to get to know the others a little bit more. After your earlier encounter, it was more than clear that they weren't leaving, until they had the chance to speak to you first. 

Walking in the hall and to the dining room was easy, thanks to the cauldron and you also had time to look around a house a little bit more. It was elegant here, the furniture looked really expensive. There were some portraits hanging. On the first one you saw, there was a whole Inner circle, then Rhysand with a crown on his head, you suspected it was painted on the day or day after he became High lord, and next to you, there was a portrait of two women. One looked solder, barely off age and the other one was clearly her mother. Although you never met them and couldn't remember their names, you recognized some similarities in their faces and Rhysand's. “My mother and sister..” Rhysand appeared next to you in a second you were absently looking at the two womens. “It is a pity they aren't here to meet you. My sister always wanted another sister, so they could make fun of me together and I am sure my mother would love you as if you were her actual daughter.” A little bit surprised at his statement, you looked at his handsome face. “How can you know? We barely.. know each other and those are some strong words.” There was a hint of mistrust in your voice. “I just know..” 

The breakfast was delicious and others seemed really nice and friendly, which caught you off guard once again. Cassian, however scary he could appear, was one of the funniest people in the world, telling jokes and stories about everyone in the room and what they experienced together in all those centuries. Morrigan was the person who matched his personality perfectly. Although you didn't expect them to be like this, you were actually having a nice time. It was so different from the breakfast you usually had at home. Azriel along with Amren were a little bit quieter, but still friendly towards you and they tried to make you feel welcome. And Rhysand.. Actually you weren't sure what to think of him. After your little chat in the hall, you came to breakfast together and he helped you sit by pushing your chair. He was behaving like a true gentleman, completely opposite to what they told you in Autumn court. You were pulled to reality from thinking by Morrigan. “Y/N you simply must come with me today. I plan to go shopping. I need some new dress and you definitely too, because females just can not have enough dresses. And after that we can maybe go to this little bakery, they have the best sweets.” She was trying to persuade you to accompany her. You smiled at her, touched that she wanted to spend more time with you. Maybe she was going to be your first friend here? Well officially. Unofficially you started liking them all. “Well, I would like to join you,” you said truthfully, “If it's okay, of course?” You added as you looked over your husband, whose purple eyes were watching you. “Of course it is okay. You are free to do whatever your heart decides. Buy everything you need or simply want.” He smiled at you, looking over at Morrigan. “I am sure my cousin will more than happily be at your assistance,  especially, I will be paying.”

“Morrigan, I just do not need so many things. This is getting really absurd.” You said after trying on maybe ten dresses. And many skirts and pants before. Yes, you could wear pants here. Another shock for you, since this was unacceptable in your home court. “Oh my dear friend, we barely started. I know you have many dresses from Autumn court, but now you are in the Night court. You need to look like it and more importantly, you need to feel comfortable. So now hush and tell me the truth. Do you really like to wear something like this? Or you simply were taught you have to wear clothes like this, although you do not like how it looks or how comfortable it is?” You knew from her face that lying wasn't the opportunity, so you sighed. “It.. doesn't really feel like me and.. it is not comfortable that much.” However simple it sounded, this was a big step for you, since you were always taught to not complain about anything, not having your own opinion. And something in Morrigan's face told you, she was having the same thoughts as you. 

Leaving with three bags in each hand, you finally left the store. The amount of money you left there was enormous, but Morrigan was assuring you, Rhysnad wouldn't mind, so you decided to believe her and relax a little bit. Well, you surely made the owner happy and your closet fuller. You went to the bakery and bought a delicious strawberry tart, your favorite treat, and now you were just walking around the city, enjoying the sunny day and your new blossoming friendship. “It was an amazing day Morrigan, I am very thankful for you. It means a lot that you are so .. friendly to me.” You said a little bit shyly. “Oh Y/N.. It's been my pleasure. You are Rhysand's wife, one of us. My new friend. But don't you dare to think this day is over, we have one more shop we need to visit.” Her eyes sparkled in mischief. Only if you knew what was coming.

“Oh you can not mean this seriously!” You gasped, horrified, while looking at the next shop your friend picked. It was highly inappropriate for you to visit a place like this. “Oh, but I mean. Don't worry, you will be thanking me one day.” 

Your day with Morrigan was fun, but the next day, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Your feets were hurting, your head was hurting. You felt like she talked the hole in it. But inside you knew, you would be very happy if she would take you out soon again. And you also knew that if you really were to stay in your bed all day, you would be bored out of your mind after an hour. You need something to focus on, something to do. And then you remembered the strawberry tarts you had yesterday. Not wanting to go to the city, you decided to bake them on your own today. Fortunately, you knew the receipt already by your heart and in the kitchen was everything you needed. Nuala and Cerridwen, twins you met for the first time today, offered to bake that treat for you, but after some persuading, they agreed to only help you a little bit and let you roam in the kitchen mostly as you pleased. 

The two females, who were accompanying you, were quiet and shy, choosing their words wisely. THe time you spent with them was like a silent dance, but not uncomfortable. It was rather peaceful and warm, almost like in home you never had but dreamed about having, when you were little. You were actually finishing the last one, when you heard a loud and funny voice that belonged to no one else than Cassian. “You are a lucky one Rhys. What would I do to have a beautiful wife like you, who also cooks, so the whole house smells nicely.” You blushed at his comment, not meeting any of their eyes. “For that complement, I think you deserve to have the first one to try it.” You said, taking the plate and placing the tart on it, along with a small spoon and handing it to him. You made enough tarts for all of them, wanting to only kill the time, but also make something nice, since they welcomed you with open arms. While Rhys said nothing, he was smiling at you, eyes shining adoringly, which caused you to blushed even more than before. “It is delicious, can I have one or two more?” Too busy looking at your husband, you didn't even notice that Cassian already managed to eat his first portion.

Instead of one or two more strawberry tarts, Cassian ate five in a few minutes. Looking at him surprised with Rhysand standing next to you, almost brushing his arm on you, he said “Cassian has a great appetite. I believe he would eat everything you made today, if he was allowed”, sounding amused. You giggled at this comment, meeting his gaze. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” He chuckled “I already spent many centuries with him.. Believe me when I say that feeding Cassian is pricey.” Cassian, not able to speak while having mouth full, gave his friend a middle finger. During your conversation with Rhysand, you took another plate and placed another tart there, offering it to Rhysand. “If that is the case, I think you should try it before Cassian eats it.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes, that went from your face to the plate and back. You chuckled a little bit nervously and your smile fell instantly, when he shook his head. “No, thank you. I.. don't have time. Perhaps some other day. I have to go now.” And with that, he simply vanished into the darkness. 

Rhysand's sudden departure left you hurt and sad. Was something you said wrong? Was he not a fan of sweets? Was he allergic and you offended him because you didn't know? You blinked once, twice, before putting the plate on the kitchen counter. “That was.. weird.” Cassian spoke suddenly. You did not reply to him, thinking only about your conversation with Rhysand and blaming yourself for doing something wrong, although you didn't know what. But you were sure that your mother would be disappointed by this. You could almost hear her voice. “ Y/N?” You turned to Cassian. “You did nothing wrong, trust me. I don't really know what happened, but I promise you, he will come to his senses and apologize. Hopefully really soon.” You still weren't so sure about that and your mood wasn't so much better, but you offered him a smile, thankful for his kind words. “Here, take this plate too..”

You spent the previous day in the kitchen, cleaning, although Nuala and Cerridwenn insisted they would do it by themselves, you wanted to help. Cassian kept you company for the rest of the day, taking you to the gardens, telling you more stories about everyone in the inner circle, before taking you to your bedroom. He did manage to lighten your mood a little bit, so when you went to bed, no sad thoughts about Rhysand came, only sweet dreams.

The second time in a row, there was a present on your bedside table, when you woke up. Yesterday, you thought that Morrigan left there for you a beautiful necklace with a moonstone in it, you saw through the glass in one jewelry store which you based on on your walk. Morrigan was trying to persuade you to buy it, but it seemed so pricey that you decided not to. You already spent so much of Rhysands money.. But now you suspected that perhaps you were wrong by guessing it was her, who bought it. No, you knew you were wrong, since today you found a plate with different delicious looking sweets on your table, alongside with a note. 

“I know this apology isn't enough and that you also deserve an explanation, why did I leave yesterday so suddenly, but I can not give you that yet. I hope you understand and I promise you.. You did nothing wrong. - yours Rhys ” 

After reading that note from Rhysand and eating what he sent you, you felt a little bit better. You were not angry at him, rather at yourself, still not knowing what you did was frustrating. Nuala and Cerridwen were busy and since you couldn't find anyone else, you just wandered around a house, trying to find something to do. You were not in the mood to bake like yesterday, you did not have any work you could do. There was only you and your thoughts. About how your life changed, surprisingly to the better, about your new friends.. about Rhysand. You were thinking especially about him and your friends, Cassian and Morrigan. Did they report your conversation to him? After reading that note for the second time, you saw a similar formulation of words like Cassian used the previous day. It was weird. You were dying to know what that meant, but you were too shy and embarrassed to ask anyone. Another reason why you needed to find something to do. Otherwise, you would probably go crazy because of these thoughts that plague your mind. 

After another few minutes, you found a small library. At first, you hesitated a little bit, but since the doors were unlocked, you went inside. There were mainly books about the history of Prythian, courts, High lords of current and past time, books on wars and tactics, but in the small corner, you found a small shelf with maybe ten or twenty romance books. Your mother did not allow you to read them. The only ones you were allowed to read were about good behavior, what it takes to be a good wife and similar topics and after some time, when you slowly began realizing that true love will probably never be something you are going to have, you stopped begging her to let you read at least one of them, so you could see how it looks between man and women who love each other truly. But now, with your new freedom and with a new glimmer of hope inside your chest, you picked the first one, sat in the chair that was standing next to a window and began to read.

The time was passing rather quickly. You were almost in the middle of the story and not paying attention to your surroundings, when you heard someone unintentionally hitting the table and then cursing slightly. You turned quickly, shocked by this interruption, to find Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, as he turned his attention to you. “Yeah, ehm.. Don't worry. I am fine.” You raised your eyebrow, not quite believing him, since he was Spymaster, known for being stealthy and composed.. Nothing like now.  That is when you realize he is holding something in his hands. Book. He sees where your eyes are and smiles slightly. “I guess there is no hiding anymore. I am.. returning this.” He says, coming to the shelf where you took the book and placing it on its right place. You giggle a little. “If it helps you to feel better, you are the last one I would suspect of reading romantic books. I guess you should never really judge the book by its cover.” He nods, sitting on the next free chair in front of you. “I think very few people would dare to even think that I like reading these. But sometimes..” He fell silent and you smiled knowingly. “It is nice to read about true love and dream that maybe someday it will also come to you.” 

It did not surprise you, when the next day when you woke up, you found a brand new book on your bedside table, alongside with a note. 

“I hope you will like this one, although I am not an expert in this field, it's apparently very popular. I would also like to take you to dinner tonight, of course only if you want to and will not be in too much exciting part of your book. - yours Rhys”

Of course you did say yes to his invitation. It would be rude if not and also against everything your mother taught you. And what is more important, you wanted to go. After all, he was your husband, you wanted to get to know him better. What did you even know about him? That he was Hugh lord, lived in Velaris, he loves his friends and is kind. And maybe does not like strawberry tarts, but that is everything You wanted to know more. What he liked, what he did not like, his hobbies.. Everything. Anything. Anything he was willing to share with you. 

Your mind was once again full of him. Not being able to concentrate and not sure what to even wear, you were more than happy to meet Morrigan at the breakfast. It was only the two of you, a perfect opportunity to ask her to help you prepare for tonight. She agreed, happy, that you asked her and was currently styling your hair. “Don't you think it is too much?” You asked hesitantly. She made you wear a purple dress, a color that matched your husband's eyes perfectly. And it also went really well with that necklace he gave you a couple of days ago. “Not at all, I think you look perfect. Rhys will not be able to take his eyes off you.” There was a slight hint of provocation in her voice, which made your cheeks turn bright red. “Anddd, I am done. You look stunning Y/N!” As you looked in the mirror, you started to believe her.

You were waiting in your room, talking with Morrigan, when you heard a knock on your door. Not wasting any time, you went to open them to relieve Rhys standing here, dressed in a suit that matched your dress and with a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands.”Hello, Y/N darling.” There was a smirk on his face, so significant for him. “Hello.” You answered, looking down at the flowers he handed to you. “For you. Their beauty is nothing compared to yours, but I still hope you will find them at least a little beautiful.” You blushed at his comment, starting to hate how easily he can affect you. “Thank you, they are really beautiful. Perfect.” You took them, smelling their sweet scent, before Morrian came closer and offered to put them in a vase, before turning to face Rhys with a grin on her face. “Make sure she is home before midnight.”

Still chuckling a little bit at Morrigan's last comment, you took Rhysand's hand he offered you and stepped outside your beautiful home into the night. It was perfect. The weather was amazing and the streets you walked through smelled of lemon, sea and mystery. “After everything you have done for me, especially for those gifts.. I think that I should be the one inviting you tonight.” You said, starting a quick conversation before you would get too nervous or better say aroused due to how close he was. You could feel his warmth and smell his undoubtedly expensive cologne. He chuckled slightly, “Oh my darling, don't you ever think about that. You deserve those things. You deserve everything you could possibly want and I will spend my life ensuring that, as I promised you at our wedding.” He reminded you and you shook your head, not understanding, how could anyone think of him as a cruel person. “You.. exaggerate. Not wanting to give up so easily, you decided to speak. “I will be honest.. Before we got married, I was worried. However, after you took me here and I had a chance to get to know you better and of course, your friends too.. I think.. I think I really like it here. You made me feel welcome and happy more than I was ever before in my life.” You said, looking at the ground. Maybe a little bit ashamed. After all, your mother said that no perfect woman would ever complain and although you didn't directly, you indicated it quite clearly. “So, what I wanted to tell you is that I am really grateful. For your gifts, for.. everything” You looked him in the eyes, smiling slightly. At first, he didn't say anything, there was a pity in his eyes and what you didn't see was that inside he was fuming and wanted to punish everyone in the Autumn court. But not to scare you, he simply took your hand and kissed it gently. “You are welcome, my darling.”

When you came to the restaurant, after a short walk through the city, which you enjoyed, you found the place completely empty, well except for people who worked here, of course. Giving Rhysand a questioning look, he answered immediately “I wanted us to have privacy.” He shrugged, as if it was nothing and you blinked at him. “Try to tell me ever again, that you do not exaggerate.” You mumbled to yourself quietly. 

You were full. After the appetizer, soup and main course, you felt like moving wasn't an option for you anymore. When the waiter asked, if you wanted a dessert, you looked over at Rhys. In your eyes, there was an obvious answer to this question - no. But he chuckled. “Yes please, bring us two pieces of your lemon and lavender cake.” Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed. “A new information for me.. You don't understand signals very well.” He simply leaned back on a chair with a smirk on his handsome face. “Oh, but I do. What I however can not do is leave this restaurant without you trying their best dessert. Everyone loves it.” You raised your eyebrow. “You do too?” He nodded, now leaning a little bit closer to you. “About that day when I.. left so suddenly.” He paused, unsure what to say, but you didn't pressure and gave him time. “It is okay, if you don't want to share it with me. I understand.” There was a hesitant smile on your face and in your mind, you were screaming the opposite words that left your mouth. He shook his head. “I do. I want to share it with you, but.. I think that for a while it is better not to. You are still new here and are only settling in your new home. I don't want to overwhelm you.” You nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible, before the waiter came and handed you your piece of cake.

“Are you full?” Rhys asked for about a second time since you left the restaurant and you just laughed. “Yes, I am full, don't worry.“ You assured him, squeezing his hand a little bit. You had a great time with him and it was sad that your night was coming to an end. During this time, you also became more relaxed around him. Someone who wouldn't know you and saw you walking with him in the streets right now, wouldn't probably guess the situation you were in. It seemed real. This.. something, what became growing between you. “I'm just making sure.” He shrugged, at the same time as you thought something about mother hen. “Do you want to go flying?” He asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “Flying?” You asked. He smiled and within seconds, large wings appeared on his back. You gasped in astonishment. “They are beautiful..” Your voice was low. Wanting to feel them underneath your fingers, you reached out to them, but he stopped you. Gently taking your hand in his bigger one. “Ehm.. They are quite sensitive.” He tried to explain. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you!” Your eyes widened, apologizing. “No, you wouldn't hurt me. It is only when something touches Illyrian wings.. That person can become aroused.” At this moment, you wanted to sink into the ground more than ever before. 

Although you were embarrassed, you still agreed to fly, wanting to see the city from above. As your husband took you in his arms, your heart started beating faster than usual.  You wanted to sink into his touch. Smell his perfume, do something you never did before. You weren't sure what it was. This feeling was new for you. But you were enjoying it. “Hold on tight.” Rhys said, moments before he finally took you in the sky. His sudden movement makes you close your eyes, but his movement becomes steady, you open them, taking in the beauty of the city below. It was perfect. This night, Rhysand. Everything. This night was everything. 

You spent the next few days with your husband. From that night he took you to dinner, you found yourself yearning for his company. At first, you were a little hesitant, not wanting to disturb him with your presence. After all, he was High lord with responsibilities. But he seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did his, so when he one day took you to his office, there was a new set of comfortable sofa and armchair, next to a window. Perfect place for reading you began to enjoy. From that day, you went to his after breakfast regularly. Sometimes you two were talking, other days on the other hand, you spent this time in a comfortable silence. Eating lunch together also became some sort of habit of yours. Slightly different were evenings. You once again went shopping with Morrigan, who was very curious about your relationship with her cousin. Sometimes you spend your evenings with Cassian or the whole Inner circle, sitting, talking and drinking Rhysands expensive old wine, while sitting close to him. This was also your plan for this evening, until Morrigan decided that it is time for you to visit Rita's. 

Since Morrigan did a really good job by picking your dress for your dinner date with Rhys, you decided to trust her also this time, but seeing what she prepared for you to wear, you began asking her sanity. This dress were.. interesting. They were black and like the night sky they sparkled. As if there were tiny little stars. And they also were very short, which was new for you. Although you did started dressing differently than in the Autumn court, you even tried pants and really liked them, but.. The only thing that was calming you down was that she was wearing a dress of similar length, only in red and with a deeper neckline. “If you were not Rhys's wife, I can guarantee you Y/N, that I would do anything to take you home with me tonight.” You blushed and laughed and the same time. “I mean it, you look sexy! Where were you hiding that ass, girl?” You shook your head. “Morrigan, tell me the truth. Are you drunk already?” You raised your eyebrow at her and she grinned in response. “Me? Drunk? Always.”

The plan was to get ready with Morr and meet guys and Amren at Rita's. You were shocked that Amren even agreed on going. Although you were in Velaris a couple of weeks already, you barely spoke to her. But Morrigan assured you, that is how Amren simply is and so you never questioned it again. When you arrived, the place was full. There was a body on body, people were dancing, drinking and singing, alongside with a singer on a little stage. If you were not holding Morrigan's hand for your dear life, you would probably get lost and never be found again. Luckily, you managed to find the others rather quickly. They were sitting at the table in the corner, not so far away from the dance floor, already with some drinks. “Look who finally decided to show up.” Cassian greeted you with a sneering remark on which Morrigan replied by giving him a middle finger, which was normal for them, as you found out some time ago. “Oh shut up, Cass. Maybe you should sometimes be late and at least try to take care of your appearance.” You began ignoring these two, since their bickering would probably last all night. You rather said hello to the other three people who were sitting here, Amren, Azriel and lastly Rhysand. You felt his eyes on you from the second you showed up here and you knew that you would be staring at him all night probably too. He was wearing black. The buttons of his shirt were open, so you could see part of his muscular chest. “Hello darling, you look ravishing.” He smirked at you hungrily.

You were having your third drink. Normally you would take one, beautiful you were to survive this night, you needed more. It was just too much. People were almost having sex right on the floor, music was so sensual and Rhys.. His normal gentleman's behavior probably stayed at home today. His large warm hand was on your exposed thigh, striking it gently, each time going a little bit more up. As the time passed by, Morrigan went dancing with some girl she met at the bar, when she was going for her second glass of wine. Cassian disappeared to the dance floor and Amren was having a conversation with Azriel. That left you and Rhysand practically alone, not that you were complaining. You were only still rather shy for this. The band started playing some slow music, giving the dancers an opportunity to slow down their rhythm and enjoy each other's touches more intensely. That is when Rhysand leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Would you like to dance?” The way his breath brushed lightly against your neck gave you goosebumps, but you still nodded slowly.

When you took Rhysand's hand, he led you on a dance floor. Some people around you probably recognized him, since they tried to give you more space, but there still were many people around you, not that you were paying them any attention. No. You had eyes for only one person and that person was your husband, who was holding you close. His arms were around your waist as you moved slowly on the floor, grinding at each other like fools. If you would look back on your table, you would be able to see that both Cassian and Morrigan returned and all of your new friends were currently toasting, pleased with how things had turned out between the two of you, perhaps thanks to their efforts. 

Not being able to hold back anymore, you looked from Rhysand's eyes on his lips, biting yours. It was a simple invitation for him. The one he gladly accepted, as he firstly gently stroked your lip with his thumb, before slowly leaning to you, giving you time to change your mind, before he finally brought your lips together in a slow, long wanted kiss. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds, but it was enough for the mating bond to snap for you. Like a golden thread it led straight to Rhysand and when you looked him surprised in the eyes, you knew, you felt, that this wasn't something new for him. 

As the first hint of hurt and sadness appeared in your eyes, the sudden wave of darkness surrounded you and carried the two of you home. The first thing you did was to take a step back, trying to get away from him. “Why? Why didn't you tell me this before?” He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I didn't want to overwhelm you or scare you. I thought it was better to not tell you anything for some time. “ He started, not so good. “How long did you know?” You asked quietly, wanting to know something more before deciding what to say to him. “A little bit more than. Almost two years.” You gasped. Hurt by him sat on the chair, refusing to look at him. “All my life, someone.. Someone else always decided what was good for me. What I should know, what not. When we were getting married, I thought that.. It will be the same with you, but during these last weeks you were.. So kind to me that I really started believing I can trust you, but now? I.. I don't know. You knew you were my mate for so long and you did not tell me? Why? What did I do to offend you so much? Am I not good enough?” He began shaking his head rapidly, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “No, no that's not it. You are perfect, believe me. You are everything I ever wanted, what I dreamed of.” Releasing breath, with teary eyes, you looked at him. “Then tell me.. How exactly did you find out, so you decided it was better for me to not know?” 

The room was silenced, as Rhys poured himself a drink. He offered you one, but you refused it. You already had enough today and you wanted to concentrate on what is he saying.  He took a deep breath before beginning. “I was in the Autumn court, trying to sort out some problems Beron had at that time. He held a ball, where I was invited, maybe you remember it.” You nodded, only for confirmation that you did. “The ball was just beginning, when I saw you enter with your parents by your side. I remember our eyes met, only for a brief moment, but in that moment, the bond snapped for me, but clearly not for you.. That same night I began to plan. I asked Azriel if he could find out as many information about you and your family as he could and in the morning, he already handed me a whole file about you. I learned your name and about your situation. Considering how many people in Autumn court behave, for me it was not surprising that your parents were not so.. good people. You were so young, you are still young and your father was already trying to find a partner for you, so he could marry you off for his gain. I knew that I could not let that happen. Not only because of my personal interest, but because most males in Autumn court abuse their partners and see their wifes only as breeding mare.” There was a disgust in his voice. “So I immediately came to Beron and proposed the idea of marriage between our two courts. Trying to win him on my side, I said I wanted to fix how last time something like this was about to happen but it did not, affected relationship between our courts. I told him he could even pick a list of some suitable girls, hoping you would be there, since Beron was close to your father. Well he agreed and also luckily for me, included you on that list. I tried to not be too eager to marry you, because I did not want to cause any suspicion. So I waited a few weeks before choosing. Then some paper work was needed and it took time before the wedding planning could finally began. I wanted nothing more than to go to your house and just took you with me to get you out of that place, but I was worried that I would put you in danger. Beron is awful, I believe I don't have to explain it to you.That is also why I didn't tell you before. Why didn't I engage in anything.” You nodded, understanding what he did and you were thankful to him, but it still hurt a little. “But why didn't you tell me anything after I came here?” You dared to ask. He swallowed nervously. “You were so young and you were already going through a lot. I knew you were probably scared of me, scared of this place at first. Maybe my decision wasn't so right as I thought it was, but please believe me that I did it with only the best intentions.” 

You knew Rhysand probably really didn't mean to do anything bad by his decisions, but you still had a right to be hurt and disappointed. It's been two days since the revelation and you spent them in your room. Nuala and Cerridwen brought you each food. Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel also visited you, telling you that they understand why you are angry with Rhysand. You also found out that although you thought otherwise, they didn't know about the bond. They suspected it, yes, but he didn't tell them anything. They found out after you didn't show up at breakfast the day after you went together to Rita's. They of course saw you disappear with Rhys, but thought it was for other purposes. You thanked them for their words of support and their visits and also begged them not to tell Rhysand anything, which they promised. You deep inside knew that you would forgive him and move on. He was not only your mate, but also your husband. Husband you began to love, which you realized after your argument. 

Your love for him is also one of the factors that drove you mad. You stopped believing that love existed. You felt like a fool that you, after everything that you have been taught, after what you saw, after everything you have been through.. You did in fact fell in love. You were so confused, about your feelings, what you thought you should feel, what happened.. That you welcomed knocking on your door gratefully. 

You would never suspect that behind the door, there would be Amren standing, asking if she could come inside to talk to you. You of course led her, closing the door behind her, gesturing on chairs where she can sit, while you returned to your soft bed. “Girl, I am probably not the person to tell you this, but I think you need to pull yourself together.” You would lie if you would say that her words did not shock you a little bit. She wasn't even trying to chat a little before dropping this on you. “I know and understand that you are hurt by what Rhys did, he is an idiot sometimes, but be honest with yourself. By this, you are only punishing both of you and why?” She shook her head. “I have been alive for.. a couple of thousands years. I saw many people get together and then break up. But I do not think this is what either of you want, am I right?” You sighed and nodded. You will not leave Rhysand because of this. You knew that, however you weren't sure what she was trying to tell you by this. “So.. If that is not the case, why are you doing this? Why waste time by being angry at each other.I think you both went through a lot to be this stupid.” And in that moment, you understood. 

Not wasting any time, you quickly hugged Amren and before she could even react, you started running to the kitchen. She was right after all. Your life wasn't easy, so why are you making yourself miserable even more? Rhys made a mistake, but that happens. But what you realized is that you love him enough to forgive him. You loved him. That warm feeling spreads throughout your whole body. And thanks to that, it all seemed so simple. 

At first, you simply wanted to grab something quick and go straight to Rhysand's office, but when you saw strawberries lying on the kitchen counter, you couldn't help yourself. Knowing the receipt by your heart paid off, when you were finishing the first strawberry tart, placing it on the plate and storming out of the kitchen with it, completely ignoring unfinished ones. You were sure Cassian would gladly eat them even now. You rushed to your room, to freshen up yourself and to change, before, with a plate in your hand, finally knock on your husband's office. “Come in.” 

Before you opened the massive doors, you took a deep breath. Although you were absolutely sure about this, like anything before in your life, you were also still nervous. When you came in, you saw Rhys sitting behind the table, which was full of papers. To be honest, he looked like he didn't get too much sleep and that made your heart hurt. He looked up, meeting your eyes. His face lit up a little bit, in a small hope, when he saw what you were carrying in your hands. He watched your steps, before you were finally standing right in front of him, placing the plate on his table. “I made this, just for you.” You announced, biting your lip. “Are you.. sure?” His voice was hesitant. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to devour that tart and then you, but even now he was giving you a chance to change your mind. You walked around the table, he turned himself in his chair to face you, which you took as an opportunity to sit on his lap. His hand instinctively found your hip, holding you close so you wouldn't fall down, as you took the spoon, scooped up a little part of that tart and brought it to his lips. After he looked into your eyes once again, he ate the food you offered him, groaning at its taste. That sound was so beautiful, so sinful.. It made you thank Morrigan that on your first shopping spree together, she took you in that one certain shop, where you bought matching sexy underwear you were currently hiding under your dress.

[redcoralpot]

U Malatu - Mike Schmidt x M! Reader

Summary: Mike gets a call back on the ad he had sent out for a new babysitter for Abby. While they were interested in the job, Mike was more than interested in them.

Warnings: NSFW content (masturbation), and mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1.55K

Notes: Consider this a gift for the gay Mike simps!!

-

Mike had expected nothing of it, really. He had paid a newspaper company a few dollars to display ads for a babysitter in their daily papers; a last ditch attempt before starting his new job at a local pizzeria. He was working the night shifts, and with his office being in the middle of a highly dangerous, abandoned building, he hesitated in bringing his little sister along. Abby was only ten years old– who knows what she would get into?

So, when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number, Mike immediately answered, “Hello?”

Radio silence from the other end. His mother always had warned him about spam. 

His finger hovered over a red button, ready to end the call, when a noise froze any movement, “Um… are you Mike Schmidt?”

“Yeah, this is him.”

The caller cleared their throat, “Okay, so, I’m calling about a babysitting ad I saw at a local diner; I’m interested. Is it possible for us to meet there to discuss details?”

“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?” Mike questioned, folding his jacket over a chair.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you outside of Sparky’s at four o’clock. I’m looking forward to it!”

“Wait–” That was the only thing he could respond with before the line cut out, and his home screen went back to normal.

Suspicious. Maybe he should have gone a different route than dropping the opportunity of watching over a vulnerable child into just anyone’s hands, but it was too late to turn back now. Sparky’s was a public place, at least, so this person would not be able to hurt Mike without getting caught. If he got any weird feelings from them, he’d immediately call it off and go home. 

Mike glanced at the oven clock, ticking away at time like it was nothing. Currently, it was only three, and the drive to the popular diner was only fifteen minutes away. Well, shit. He was too desperate to pass this up, not with the court constantly watching his back. Mike groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, dreading his first shift already.

He ended up needing that extra time to get Abby comfortable enough for him to leave, and oh, how stubborn she was. Mike had to carry her over his shoulder just to get her into her bedroom, where she had plenty of sensory toys and items to occupy herself with. Additionally, Mike had put extra care into making sure she had the opposite too, such as noise canceling headphones in case the neighbor decided to mow his lawn again. The last time he saw her, she was huddled up on her desk again, using crayons to draw scribbly pictures of her imaginary friends. Yeah, imaginary. They weren’t real, as much as Abby claimed they were.

By the time he had gotten in the car, started it, and driven to Sparky’s, he was five minutes late. Yet, from his windshield, he could see a man in a quirky uniform sitting outside the main doors. Mike couldn’t see the details of the stranger– he needed to get his eyes checked– but he witnessed them flinch at the sound of his car door slamming. As he approached, the man jumped up with a sparkle in their eye, and held out a hand.

“Mike Schmidt?”

He didn’t shake it, causing the hand to fall awkwardly to your side, “Yeah.”

“Uh, anyways, I saw your ad. The diner hands out a paper full of ads with their menus, you see, and yours caught my eye.”

“You mentioned that.”

The man had a lopsided grin on his face, and you chuckled; the sound sent a spark up Mike’s spine, “Yes, yes I did. I make decent money, but I’m also looking for a bit of a side job too. Babysitting was on the top of my list, ‘cause I love kids.”

“Do you have any actual experience with it?”

“I was a babysitter for my first job in highschool,” he rambled, “my favorite kid was a little boy from a local daycare. His mom said he got diagnosed with autism and she needed extra help taking care of him during the evenings. He was a delight!”

“Why did you stop?”

“Ah, it’s a shame. Fritz, the little guy, was one of the kids that went missing at a pizzeria a while back. His mom was never the same after that, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t there.” You shuffled closer to the doors, shoulders tense.

“A pizzeria?”

You shrugged, “It got shut down soon after that. I guess when a couple of kids disappear into thin air in a restaurant, parents aren’t keen on bringing their children there anymore.”

Mike opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but you stopped him, “Listen, I gotta go, this was my break. You have my number, right?”

He nodded, and you replied with your pinky and thumb sticking out of a fist, held to your ear. Mike watched as you disappeared into the diner, curiosity and another, more unknown feeling creeping up his chest. He remembered it so well, looking back on it.

-

Nowadays, Abby loves you. Mike could lean on the doorway, and a smile would tug on the corners of his lips as he watched you make shapes with your hands. A light was set in her room specifically for this purpose, as the shadows cast would mimic whole storylines. His little sister would view it in glee; the tales always accompanied by voice acting, your doing. Mike even started, in the back of his mind, to prefer the idea of spending the night like that instead of in front of a collection of security cameras. He observed your hands, how your body moved, your face, and more embarrassingly, your lips.

Mike studied how gentle and sickeningly sweet your voice was when you praised Abby, but also the stern expression that played in your eyes when she misbehaved. You would glance up at him sometimes, the manner still stained, and a heady feeling would slam into his brain. The experience always only lasted a few seconds, when his little sister would grumble again, and you were pulled back towards her. Frankly, there were times when Mike wished you would continue, though he’d never admit it. He pushed it down with everything else.

Alas, that can only work for so long– a man has needs. Those needs surface at the worst possible time, and for Mike, that was on his endless night shift at the pizzeria. He cursed under his breath, feeling his dick straining against his jeans. The feeling of your hand manhandling him out of his own front door was imprinted on his shoulder, even if his uniform vest covered it. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together.

“F-fuck.” He whispered. 

His seat shook as Mike shifted in it, fidgeting, unable to focus on the bright screens on his desk. The more he tried ignoring it, the more depraved thoughts infected his head. A finger trailed up the seam of his pants, his breath hitching, where it finally landed on the button holding it all together. Mike bit his lip and unbuttoned it, a whine escaping him as he palmed himself. 

He imagined it was you that was doing it, your strong palm cupping his crotch as easily as you did a mug at home. He snaked fingers into his boxers, sliding himself out of the top, and rested his forehead against the wood under the cameras. His dick twitched at the movement, and he brushed against the tip. Mike huffed as he slid his hand down, and then up, repeating; spreading precum as it came out. What else could you do with that strength?

Could you manhandle him on his hands and knees? You could, he knew, and you would trail your hands down his body. So very gentle, so very kind, for what you were about to do. You could hold his hips still to prevent him from thrusting up into your hand, as he whimpered in complaint. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt the stickiness grow in his hand; you could call him the most pathetic things and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A pet, a slut, a little whore.

Mike let out a quiet moan, “Please…”

He’d face away from you as you thrust your own against his cock, not even earning the privilege to look at you. You would treat him as only a toy to use, whenever, and however you wanted. His ass would be red from how hard your skin slapped against his; the sting only sending down zaps of pleasure. You wouldn’t even bother taking off your own clothes, only his. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you’d grunt.

That same heady feeling slammed into Mike again, but this time was different– this time it was accompanied by a white flash in front of his eyes. His body seized upwards, drool smearing against the desktop. The guard felt warmth drip down his palm, onto his pants and the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep, shaky breath. 

The stain was going to be hard to explain.

-

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Could I please request giving Ace and Deuce a good luck kiss before a basketball match/track and field race?

Ace Trappola:

Ace has always been the type to roll his eyes at romantic movie moments, the dramatic airport scenes feeling more annoying than anything. It’s why you were hesitant to offer up a good luck kiss before his game, as it was certainly a ‘teen romance cliche’ move to pull. Still, your gut said follow your dreams and before he left to get on the court, you threw your arms around him so he couldn’t move away, lips plastered to the side of his face as he stuttered out half-formed questions. He has no time to actually recover as he’s dragged away by other teammates, ones who are loudly teasing him about how red his face is before the game even started. He mumbled after they won the game that he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to do that again, leaving you with butterflies and the thought that he wasn’t as hopeless as he appeared.

Deuce Spade:

You’re a little wary of giving Deuce a good luck kiss, as much as he deserved one. He was easily thrown off balance when you flirted with him, leading to disasters in alchemy and fumbling with simple rules that end in him getting collared. Your impulsive decision is made when you see how cute he looks as he’s stretching, unable to resist walking up to wish him good luck; your lips brushed gently against his slightly sweaty cheek, an act that left Deuce standing there in open-mouthed shock. The look on his face was burned into your brain, his wide blue eyes, the way his jaw had dropped, and you silently prayed you didn’t ruin his opportunity. It seemed your kiss did the opposite, a determined fire lit underneath him as he knew he couldn’t embarrass himself when you were watching (and maybe winning would earn him a second kiss on the cheek, but that was too distracting to think of now).

[pbnbucks]

Caitlin x Reader!

My Bad.

word count: 736

warnings: cursing, jealous, leading to smut, yelling, somewhat toxic

pt:1/2

summary: you havent gave caitlin enough attention and shes being a baby about it.

———————————————————————

you have been laying in bed cuddling with your girlfriend all day “baby can you pass me my phone i want to go live” you ask nicely as she turns over from your cuddling position and grabs your phone off the charger.

“you always want to be on live” she complains “thats not true” you say already fed up with your girlfriend since shes had a attitude all afternoon because you would drive her to the basketball court and watch her play basketball with a bunch of 5th graders.

she throws herself on to the bed with a sigh. you click the live button and slowly more and more people start to join but one makes your heart skip a beat.

kk arnold joined

“OH. MY. GOSH” you start jumping up and down on your bed startling caitlin “what?” your ignore her “guys what the fuck” “WHAT, what are you screaming about” “kk arnold just joined my live, hold on i wanna invite her to join” she rolls her eyes laying down on your stomach in between your legs. you rest your phone on her back waiting for a response to see if kk joined as you rub her back admiring you girl and she sighs in content but her peace quickly ends

she joins. “oh my gosh hey kk!” you scream “hey girll, how are you?” “im great how are you?” you say with a bunch of enthusiasm causing a scoff from your jealous girlfriend. “im doing great, what are you doing?” you put your phone down showing you girlfriend who is currently laying on your stomach pouting. she instantly moves her head out the frame and you side eye her deciding to leave it alone and bring it up once the live is ended. “my bad girl idk why she acting like that she has been a baby all day cause i didn’t want to watch her play basketball with kids” you say earning a laugh from kk. “ but i watched your game against usc and i was like damnnnn kk” what you where saying was true, kk definitely showed out, she was extremely talented and nobody can take that from her “ooo thank you girly they put up a good game and so did we im just happy that we won” nodding your head at her statement. kk was humble, caitlin was the complete opposite if it was caitlin you where speaking to she would be talked about how she dominated their opponent and how shes number 1. but that was what you loved most about your girlfriend. there is something about competetive females that makes you go feral. “but anyways what are you and the team up to” you say trying to make any conversation without sounding awkward “nothing much we just got out of practice and im about to go to walmart with the team and get some legos i actually just built a star wars ship out of legos” she moves the camera to show her lego sets which makes you laugh at the way she was so proud of her legos.

time skip because im lazy and i have writers block.

“alright well im going to let you go, bye kk” you say your goodbyes and thank you’s. You turn your head to caitlin who is already staring at you. “caitlin are you serious? what was that” you cant believe your girlfriend acted like a child infront of 20,000 people. “ i dont know what your talking about” “oh really you dont know what im talking about? you dont remember acting like a complete baby on live” “oh im a baby now because i dont want to see my girlfriend flirting with another girl infront of me?” you cant even believe the way she is acting right now “are you fucking serious cait? you think i was flirting with her” she looks at you dumb founded “your that in tune with being a slut for another female you don’t even realize that your girlfriends in front of you” this bitch. “excuse me?” she rolls her eyes “if you want her that bad just go fuck her then” theres no way shes being serious right now “maybe i will, atleast she wont act like a fucking baby and not be so damn clingy all the time” she turns around and looks you dead in the eyes.

“cait, im sorry i promise.”

[azzifudd]

i don't wanna see you with anyone but me

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed.

rated: teen

3.0k words

disclaimer: as always, this is fictional

[AO3 Link]

Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed. It’s already been a bad morning. Early morning games are always tough on the team, and they’d gotten to the hotel late last night because of an expected traffic jam, leading to even less sleep.

And now, instead of helping her warm up and hyping her up like she normally is, Paige is at the opposite end of the court giggling with some girl on the other team.

They only have a few weeks left together before Paige has to go home, and instead of being with Azzi, she’s off flirting with someone else.

Azzi takes another shot, grunting when it bounces off the rim. The ref finally blows his whistle, signaling the teams to line up for tip off. Paige starts to walk back toward their side of the court, but not before that girl says goodbye with a hand pressed to Paige’s arm.

Azzi’s petty enough that she pretends she doesn’t see Paige’s offered high five before she runs onto the court.

Azzi plays like a woman possessed. By the time the final buzzer sounds, they’re up 25 points after her efficient 33.

“Okay, killa!” When Paige bounds up to her, bumping into her with her chest and trying to wrap her arms around her, she shrugs her off.

“Why don’t you go comfort your new friend?” Azzi heads to the bench to take a much needed drink of water. Paige trails close behind her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her.” Azzi flicks her head in the girl’s direction. Azzi has to admit she’s pretty; with dark skin, dark hair, and big brown eyes. She’d probably enjoyed it a little too much when her crossover had landed the girl on her ass, but like she’s said, she’s petty.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know her.” Paige looks dumbfounded.

“You seemed to know her well enough that you spent all of pregame talking to her instead of helping me warm up.” She tries to keep her voice low, knowing that their voices would echo easily in the gym no matter how loud the other games were.

“She said she was a fan! I was just being nice!” Paige crowds into her space, voice defensive.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

“Azzi, come on, you’re being crazy.”

Azzi sees red, elbowing Paige in the stomach, pushing her lanky body out of the way easily. “Get away from me.”

“Fine!” Paige throws up her hands. “Come find me when you’re done being crazy.”

The rest of the day drags as they have to take the long drive home together in the car with Azzi’s family. Her parents clearly want nothing to do with their drama, ignoring the two ticking time bombs in the backseat.

When they finally make it back to the house, Azzi storms inside, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

“So… what happened, big dawg?” Tim asks Paige as she helps him unload their bags from the car.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Paige huffs, frustrated.

“I didn’t say you did.” He replies, patient.

Paige hesitates, suddenly feeling awkward about talking about this with her what are they? her girl? her Azzi’s dad, but he stops her before she has to.

“You don’t have to tell me the details, but give her some time to cool down, and then just talk to her. You know how she can be, I mean both of you are stubborn as hell, but when has she ever stayed mad at you for long?

That’s true. It’s one of the things that Paige likes the most about Azzi, that no matter how annoying Paige is being, Azzi still wants her around.

When they’re done unpacking, Paige goes to find Azzi. She stops in the kitchen to grab some reinforcements. When she gets to Azzi’s door, she hesitates. She’s never had to knock before. But before she even needs to, it opens.

She and Azzi stare at each other for a moment before they’re both blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

Then they’re both giggling and Azzi pulls Paige into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“I brought this, in case you were still mad at me.” Paige holds up a cartoon of ice cream and a spoon.

“Only one spoon?”

“In case you were still mad at me,” Paige repeats. Azzi laughs and tugs Paige over to sit on the bed, where they take turns eating bites of the ice cream.

“I’m sorry I called you crazy.” Paige says, wincing as she remembers it. “I shoulda seen how upset you were.”

“And I’m sorry that I overreacted when I saw you talking to someone else.” Azzi twists her fingers together. “I just got so mad when I saw you talking to her. And I know how popular you are, and you deserve every bit of it, but…”

Paige just waits because she knows Azzi needs to talk it out herself, and that she just needs Paige to listen.

“I know it’s selfish, but part of me just wants to keep you to myself. Because as soon as everyone finds out about you, they’re gonna want you.” Azzi glances at Paige then, almost certain she’ll see a cocky grin on her face, but Paige just listens.

Paige gets it. Sometimes someone can just look at Azzi for a second too long and it makes her want to just take Azzi and hide her away. But she can’t, so she just reaches out to hold Azzi’s hand.

There are so many things she wishes she could say to Azzi, things that she can barely stand to consider because they scare the shit out of her.

So she just settles for saying the one thing she knows to be true.

“I’m yours.”

Paige watches Azzi blush, stunned and speechless.

“Can I kiss you now? Lowkey it was so hot how jealous you got.” Paige laughs when Azzi pushes her with a hand to her face.

But then that same hand is gripping at her collar and pulling her on top of Azzi and then there’s no more talking.

//

It’s a Friday night, and Paige is sober.

It’s not the most uncommon occurrence, not anymore. After her ACL, she has learned to be a bit more responsible, a bit more grown up. So when the girls had decided to go out that night, she volunteered to be DD.

And if that gives her a chance to watch over Azzi a little more closely she will take it. The younger girl has been acting off in the past weeks. On the outside, she doubts that anyone else has noticed, but she almost knows Azzi better than she knows herself.

It becomes even clearer that something’s wrong when Azzi returns over and over to the bar, taking way more shots than she usually does.

And now, a few hours into their night, she has disappeared. It’s a small bar, in a small town, so Paige isn’t too worried, but Azzi has never been one to wander off, and especially not on her own.

Paige pokes her head through the door to the back patio which consists of a few picnic tables, lit up with fairy lights. She almost heads back inside when she hears a familiar laugh from the far end of the patio.

When her eyes adjust to the light, she sees Azzi sitting on a table, a tall form looming over her.

“Azzi!” She barks out, strides long as she rushes forward. The figure steps back from her friend, and Paige vaguely recognizes her as one of the members of the girls volleyball team.

“What?!” Azzi fires back, stopping Paige in her tracks.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“I’m talking to a friend.” Paige fights the familiar twist in her stomach at the sight of Azzi’s hand on the other girl’s arm. “Is that okay with you? Or are you the only one allowed to flirt with every woman who throws themselves at you?”

Paige feels like she’s been punched in the gut. She sees a hint of regret on Azzi’s face before she turns her head away.

The stranger looks like she would rather be anywhere else, and Paige would be more embarrassed if she wasn’t so focused on Azzi.

“I’ll see you in class, Azzi?” When Azzi gives a jerky nod in response, the girl takes her leave, giving Paige a cold look as she goes.

Azzi’s eyes are glassy, her cheeks obviously flushed even under the dim lights. She takes a heaving breath, face turned away while she clearly fights tears, and Paige hates that she is the reason for her best friend’s pain.

“Az-” Her hands reach up to find their usual place at Azzi’s waist, but she freezes when Azzi flinches away from her. Her fists clench as she drops them at her side.

“Am I not enough?”

“What?” Paige chokes out. The thought is inconceivable. She reaches out again, grasping at where Azzi has wrapped her arms around herself.

Azzi still isn’t looking her in the eye.

“Azzi, come on.” Paige sighs in relief when Azzi allows her touch, hands warm against the skin exposed by her crop top.

Azzi’s eyes brim with tears. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

That’s when Paige knows something really might be wrong. Azzi is always the one pulling her out of her shell when she’s upset, and she wasn’t usually one to hide her own feelings.

“It’s just us. Me and you.” Paige brings one hand up to cup her jaw and brings their gazes together. “Talk to me. We promised that we’d always talk to each other.”

Azzi takes a deep, steadying breath. And then another.

“I know that we agreed when you came here that we’d pull back and keep it more casual.”

You wanted that! Paige wants to say, but she can’t deny that she took advantage of it, loved it at times even. She can’t deny that sometimes it was nice to be able to talk to, flirt with, and kiss girls who didn’t hold the power to crush her with one word.

But none of those girls ever made her feel even half of how Azzi did, like she could conquer the world if only Azzi was at her side, holding her hand.

“And I know that we decided last year that it was best for the team and for everyone if we just.. didn’t complicate things.”

She keeps it unspoken that it was never that simple, and that it had tested their relationship more than ever having each other so close, but being unable to really be together the way they both hoped the other wanted. And then the season had ended with that devastating loss, and neither of them had had the emotional capacity to deal with all of it.

And then her ACL had happened, and just when Paige had thought that she couldn’t be forced any lower, there was Azzi. Azzi, who had just shown up to hold her, and let her yell and cry, and not be okay, for once.

It still sucks, and there are days where she’s so desperate to play that she cries, but she’s not alone in it. She’ll never be alone again, not as long as she has Azzi. And she knows now, sure as anything, that Azzi is all she’ll ever want.

“I thought something had changed between us this summer, and I’ve been waiting for you to be ready, to tell me you were ready.”

Paige feels like this is a conversation she has been waiting to have for a very long time.

“Do you know what my first thought was the first time I saw you? ”

Azzi huffs in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you shoot a basketball for the first time, and thought, damn, I have to play with her, and then I did, and it was better than I even imagined it would be. Then I got to sit next to you on that plane, and got to really know you, and then I knew that I just wanted you in my life forever. So don’t ever think that you’re not enough. You’re all I’ve wanted since I was sixteen years old.”

Azzi’s eyes shimmer with tears, but the smile on her face is radiant. Paige tugs her even closer by the waist until Azzi hooks her arms around her shoulders.

“I wish I was as good with words as you are,” Azzi says, pressing their foreheads together. “I wish I could tell you what you mean to me.”

But Paige doesn’t need Azzi to say it. She can feel it in the way Azzi’s heart pounds against her chest where they are pressed together. She can see it in the way her lips tremble like they’re about to kiss for the first time.

And she can feel it in the way Azzi presses their lips together, like she never wants to stop, like breathing matters less than kissing her.

//

Paige is unzipping her luggage when her phone rings with a Facetime call from KK. She taps accept and as the screen fills with an image, she realizes it isn’t a normal call.

The angle is askew and the camera is out of focus showing a gym with a few figures in the distant background. Somehow KK must’ve accidentally called her. She hears KK’s voice loud and clear joking around with someone with an Australian accent. She smiles, happy that her little freshman is getting along with everyone at the Dawg Camp. She almost hangs up the call when the camera focuses itself and the figures in the background become clear.

They’re a bit far away, but Paige would recognize that form anywhere. Azzi stands at the opposite court putting up shots, though her feet stay planted on the ground. Her stroke is still smooth as butter though, and she’s so strong that the shots swish through the net even if she can’t get off the ground yet.

Someone’s under the net, someone tall with dirty blonde hair, rebounding for Azzi, and she says something, too quiet for Paige to hear from this far away, but she does hear Azzi’s responding laugh.

The sound, one of Paige’s favorite sounds, one that normally never fails to bring a smile to Paige’s face, instead sends an uncontrollable roll of unease through her gut.

She knows it’s irrational, to still get jealous when someone else makes Azzi smile. She’s never been more secure in their relationship than she is now, but apparently that jealous part of her is still alive as she squints down angrily at her phone, watching fucking Kate Martin?! standing way too close to her girl.

“What the hell?” She mutters, and then the phone is moving and KK’s face fills the screen.

“Oh, what the? P. Boogers! My bad, how long have you been on my phone?”

“Kamorea!”

KK jumps from the unexpected growl in Paige’s voice. “Damn what’s gotten up your butt? Say hi to Georgia.”

“Hi,” Paige says, brusquely. She swipes the FaceTime to the corner of the screen, tapping open Instagram and navigating to Azzi’s profile.

“Jeez, tough crowd.” She hears Georgia say as she taps on Azzi’s following, scoffing when she sees Azzi’s most recent follow.

“Dude, lemme talk to Azzi.”

“Y’all fightin’ or somethin’? She seemed all goofy after she talked to you last night.” KK thinks for a second. “Oh was it because you were cheesin’ at those dancers?”

“What?” Paige sputters. “I was just being polite!”

“Mm, sure.”

“Whatever, just let me talk to her, bro come on.” Paige nods, impatiently.

KK rolls her eyes, but still walks down the court. “Azzi,” she calls out. “Dumbass on the line for you.”

Paige watches Azzi’s face come into focus, first looking confused before a smile blooms on her face, dimple creasing her cheek.

“Babe, hey.”

Paige feels all the uncertainty and jealousy just fade away at the sight of that smile.

“Hey,” she replies, softly.

“Did something happen?” Azzi’s brow creases with worry, and she walks a bit away so they can speak in a more private spot.

“No,” Paige lies, suddenly embarrassed about how much she overreacted. “I just miss you.”

“Paige.” Azzi's smile grows even wider. “You called KK to tell her how much you missed me? You just saw me like two days ago.”

“Well, she pocket dialed me, and I saw you, so-” She cuts herself off. “Yeah.”

“I miss you too, dummy.”

Azzi’s smile is softer now, the sight of it fills Paige’s chest with warmth, so different from the mess of emotions she felt just minutes ago. Azzi has always been that for Paige, her safe place, her peace, her home.

Paige hears the noise in the background pick up and Azzi looks up, past the camera.

“You gotta go?”

“I’ll call you later?”

“You better.” Paige smirks and Azzi rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, I gotta go.”

“Wait,” Azzi pauses with a finger over the screen. “Is Martin still there?”

Azzi looks confused, but she still calls out, “Kate!”

Kate appears over Azzi’s shoulder, looking slightly puzzled at being summoned, but with a friendly smile anyways. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hey, how are ya?”

“Good, happy to be here, you know? Just taking it all in. Azzi’s been really nice about helping me actually. Since she’s been here before.” Kate smiles at Azzi, who returns it.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great, huh?” Paige winks and Azzi snorts softly. But then she says, voice serious, “Keep an eye on her for me, would ya? She doesn’t like to ask for help for herself sometimes.”

“You got it, Paige. Good to see you.” Kate jogs off to join the others in the now starting scrimmage.

When Paige looks back to Azzi, she almost blushes at the look in her eye.

“You’re always taking care of me.”

“Well, I kinda love you a little, so.” Paige scratches the bridge of her nose, feeling bashful all of a sudden.

“I kinda love you a little too.”

[sunny44]

Heyy! Can I request a lando imagine with a volleyball player s/o??

-🐧 anon

Thank you for the request, I’m not sure I did what you wanted but I did my best.

Even though I didn’t like it 😅

The last game

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: none.

Summary: Lando goes to your final game.

The court was pulsating with the energy of the fans. The stands were filled with people wearing Y/n’s team colors, wishing for her team’s victory. In the midst of the crowd, I managed to find a discreet spot, away from curious eyes.

I didn’t want to be noticed, not today.

Today was her day, and I didn’t want to steal the spotlight from her and the other girl’s.

I sat in the front rows with her family, watching Y/n intently as she warmed up in the middle of the court. My heart was racing, blending with the crowd’s pulse.

I knew how important this game was for her and how much she had trained and dedicated herself to get there.

As the minutes passed, I allowed myself to get lost in my thoughts, reminiscing about the moments we shared together, the highs and lows, the victories and defeats.

Because even though they were different sports, they were still so similar.

Everything is based on the same thing, winning or losing.

But this game was different, this game represented everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

When the referee’s whistle echoed through the court, I found myself immersed in the heat of the competition. The players ran across the court, each point contested with fervor, and I could feel the tension in the air.

As the game progressed, I realized how determined Y/n was.

Her movements were precise, her concentration unwavering. She was in her element, playing with passion and determination.

As the scoreboard neared the end, the tension in the gym reached its peak. Every point contested was crucial, every move would decide the fate of the game.

And then, finally, the decisive moment arrived.

With the final serve, Y/n boldly launched the ball into the air. Silence fell over the court, everyone holding their breath. And then, with a deafening roar, the ball found the ground on the opposite side of the court.

Practically the entire place erupted in celebration, and her family and I stood up, cheering and celebrating.

It was then that her father called me to go down to the court where she was, and after hugging her family, she ran to me because I was further away.

“You’re amazing, my love.” I hugged her and kissed her.

“Thank you, Lan. But I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t mind, you kiss me and hug me all sweaty and covered in champagne.” She smiles and holds my face, kissing me again.

“I’m so happy we won, but it’s still kind of unbelievable.” She smiles excitedly. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/n. You were amazing throughout the game.”

“Thank you.” She kisses me again. “My dad wanted to go out to celebrate, but besides the fact that it’s freezing outside, I’m too tired. What do you think about going home to eat burgers in bed?”

“I think it’s a great idea.” I hold her face and leave a kiss on her forehead.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower and change before we leave.”

I waited near the exit with a beanie, and over it, the hood of my sweatshirt so that no one would see me, and thankfully it worked. I felt her holding my hand and we headed towards my car.

“Are you serious about driving a McLaren? Weren’t you trying to be discreet?” She laughs.

“Well, it was either the McLaren or the Lamborghini.” She laughed, rolled her eyes, and then we went home.

Bonus scene!

Landonorris instagram stories

“Today was my baby’s last game of the season and guess what? She won!!!!”

[isak-dot-gov]

A glimpse of us

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader

Word count: 1311

My masterlist :)

......................................

The final whistle blew, signalling the end of the season’s first basketball game. KK Arnold sat on the bench, her eyes still fixed on the court, but her mind was elsewhere. The stands, filled with cheering fans, blurred into a background hum. She had made a choice that she couldn’t undo, and now, as she watched the game, all she felt was an empty space where happiness used to reside.

It had been just before the start of the season when she had made the decision to end things with you. The pre-season pressure and her insecurities had twisted her thoughts. She’d thought it was the best way to focus on her game, to clear her mind. But now, with the season in full swing, every basket scored, every play made, seemed to echo with memories of you.

The gymnasium lights felt harsher than they used to, and every cheer from the crowd only served to amplify the hollowness she felt inside. In the quiet moments after the game, as her teammates celebrated their victory, KK found herself staring into the abyss of her own regret. She had believed that prioritising her career would somehow erase the ache of losing you, but it had done the opposite. Each triumph on the court felt meaningless without the person who used to be by her side, sharing in those moments.

KK had tried to convince herself that she was better off without you, that it was for the best. Yet, in every person she dated after you, she found fragments of you—pieces that never quite fit, smiles that felt empty, and conversations that never reached the depths you had once shared. Each relationship became a mirror reflecting her mistake, and every glance at her past choices made her heart ache for what she had lost.

Weeks turned into months, and the basketball season began to wind down. KK found herself at a crossroads. The victories on the court no longer brought the joy they once did. They were hollow, overshadowed by a growing regret. Her friends noticed the change in her, the way her once-bright eyes now carried a shadow of sorrow. They offered sympathy but were powerless to mend the fracture she had caused.

It was a day in late autumn, with leaves turning golden and falling gently to the ground, when KK finally realised that she needed to seek you out. The crisp air felt like a reminder of the warmth she had once had and lost. She began to gather the courage to reach out, to confront the pain she had caused, and to face the reality of her decisions.

Determined to make amends, she reached out to you through mutual friends, hoping for a chance to speak. Her heart raced as she waited for your response. The pain of realising her mistake was a heavy burden, but she knew she needed to face it, no matter how daunting. Her days were filled with anxious anticipation, and each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity.

When the day came, KK found herself standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet of autumn flowers. The door opened, and there you stood, looking both surprised and guarded. The sight of you—your smile that had once been her comfort, now tinged with uncertainty—made her heart clench. The weight of her choice hung heavily in the space between you.

“Hi,” KK began, her voice trembling slightly. “I know it’s been a while, and I don’t know if you want to see me, but I had to come. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

You looked at her, your eyes searching for sincerity. The familiar autumnal fragrance from the bouquet mingled with the scent of your home, bringing a rush of nostalgia. “What’s going on, KK?”

“I broke up with you before the season started,” KK said, her voice breaking. “And I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I’ve been searching for you in everyone I’ve met since. No one compares. No one ever will. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

There was a long silence as you processed her words. The bouquet of flowers was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of her regret and longing. You looked at her with a mixture of hurt and hope, the autumn light casting soft shadows on your face.

“I’ve missed you too,” you finally said, your voice softening. “But I don’t know if I can just pick up where we left off.”

KK nodded, understanding the gravity of your hesitation. “I don’t expect you to. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am and that I’d do anything to make it right. I understand if you need time, or if you’ve moved on. I just needed you to know how I feel.”

You looked at her, your heart wrestling with the feelings she had stirred. The love you had once shared felt like a distant memory, but her sincerity tugged at something deep within you. “I need to think about it.”

KK’s face fell, but she managed a small, hopeful smile. “I understand. I’ll wait, if you’ll allow me to.”

With that, she left, the weight of her past decisions lifting slightly as she hoped for a chance to mend what she had broken. The autumn wind carried her away, but her heart remained steadfast in its hope for reconciliation.

Days passed, and the autumn air grew colder, but KK’s heart warmed with the hope she had rekindled. She threw herself into her training, using it as a distraction but never letting go of the possibility of a future with you. Each day was a mixture of nervous anticipation and quiet reflection. She avoided places where she might run into you, respecting your space and hoping you would find it in your heart to forgive her.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape, you reached out, asking to meet. KK’s heart skipped a beat at the message, and she prepared herself for whatever outcome awaited her. As you stood together in a park, surrounded by the last of the autumn leaves, you took KK’s hand in yours. The soft crunch of leaves beneath your feet punctuated the silence between you.

“I’ve thought about it,” you said softly. “And I’m willing to give us another chance, if you really mean it.”

KK’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and joy. “I do. More than anything.”

You paused, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt. “I need to know that this isn’t just a moment of regret for you. I need to know that you’re certain.”

“I am,” KK said earnestly. “Every day since I left, I’ve regretted my decision. I’ve realised how much I love you and how much I need you in my life. I want to be with you, not just for the good times, but through everything.”

With a shared smile and a tender embrace, the two of you began to rebuild what had been lost, finding comfort and happiness in each other once more. As the season changed, so did your lives, weaving together a new chapter filled with hope and love.

KK continued to excel in her career, but now, every victory was shared with you, every challenge faced together. The bond you had once shared was strengthened by the trials you had faced, and the future held the promise of joy and partnership. As the first snowflakes of winter began to fall, it felt like a fresh start, a new beginning for both of you.

The pain of the past had transformed into a testament to the strength of your love, and as you walked hand in hand through the winter wonderland, it was clear that your journey together was just beginning.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 22. FINAL.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. timeskip, angst, fluff, little surprise at the end

A/N. this is it!!! thank you for those who have stuck around for the past year, i'm sorry it's taken me this long but i hope it was somewhat worth the wait!!! i enjoyed reading your comments and asks about the series sm. this series challenged me in many ways, but helped me get back into writing. i love u all sm and thank u again <3 ps if u have any questions or want me to answer some “whats if”s feel free to send an ask!!!

-> MASTERLIST.

3 YEARS LATER.

Atsumu is absolutely hyped. 

He’s finally here, the real big stage. The Olympics. 

Never in a million years would he have thought that he’d get here alongside many other amazing volleyball players. He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears his name being announced, leaving from under the stadium seats to run out to the main courts, allowing himself to flourish in the loud cheers. 

Atsumu was on his A-Game, he didn’t care who he’d have to go against, he was determined to win. 

The rest of his team came out shortly after Atsumu, the group of them huddled up near the coaches as the other team was loudly called out. The first match they had was against the U.S, and something about that sounded familiar, though he didn’t bother to think too much into it. He squinted as he listened to his coach yap about doing good out there and not let them get under their skins.

After the other team is lined up, the Japan team is lined up in front of them. There’s some commencement announcements that are being played on the speaker, allowing Atsumu some time to enter the zone. 

When the whistle blows, everyone takes their positions. Atsumu is ready. 

The match starts with the sound of a buzzer. And everyone is on the move. 

The U.S’ team was definitely a challenge for Japan’s, but after the rigorous training they’ve been put through, the win was more than easy to steal, the match ending at the 4th set with Japan named the winners.

Everyone cheered as they celebrated their victory in the main court. As Atsumu’s eyes scanned through the U.S’ team, his eye was caught on a woman who stood by the coaches.

His gaze went right past her at first until he backtracked and looked again, this time more intently. 

The adrenaline running through his body stopped almost entirely as he froze in place.

It couldn’t be, could it?

–––

It’s hard to celebrate along with the rest of the team when his heart and his mind caught on to you. 

After going to multiple therapy sessions, he’d finally found it in him to let you go. From his mind at least, not so much his heart. 

But it felt like all the progress he was so proud of himself for making just washed down the drain. Just at the mere sight of you. Did you see him? Were you proud of him even though you were on the opposite side of the court? Were you involved with any of those men on that team? How have you been? You cut your hair? Seeing you let the many thoughts that he thought he had locked away loose. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was so mad at the occurrence.

Perhaps it was fate’s cruel way of reminding him that his past never really goes away. But even so, he knows better than to go out of his way to find you. The last time he talked to you was a hard time in his life, and you made it more than clear that you wanted nothing to do with him.

“You coming, Miya?” his teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi, called out to him. The two had been chosen from the MSBY team together, alongside Hinata and Bokuto. 

“What, where?” Atsumu replies, a confused look on his face as his eyes meet Sakusa’s.

“The guys wanted to go to the Olympic Conference party, it’s at the facility down the street,” Sakusa is applying hand sanitizer to his hands as he continues, “Participants in the Olympics are all invited, but you don’t have to if you’re tired,”

Atsumu gets up, stretching his limbs out before finally deciding on going. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air,”

The two of them join the others as they make their way into the shuttle that’d take them to the Olympic Conference. 

The place is bigger than it looks on the outside. He sees people from the swimming events and even the ice-skating events. The amount of people nearly overwhelms him, which is surprising for Atsumu Miya since he usually enjoys parties. He wasn’t quite sure where to go so he opted to follow Sakusa around, joining him in getting a drink by the bar.

“Be sure not to drink too much,” Sakusa turns to the other man as they both down the drinks they were given. Atsumu gives him a funny look, “I’m serious, we still have matches to play,”

“Obviously, I’m not stupid,” Atsumu rolls his eyes, “Just needed something to take the edge off, y’know?”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows in turn before gesturing to Atsumu that he was gonna go. “Oh, I’ll follow,” Atsumu replies.

“You sure?” Sakusa looks back at him.

Atsumu confused, an eyebrow raising in response, “What? Yeah, I don’t have anywhere else to go, Shoyo and Kou already went their own ways,”

“Ookay, then,”

Atsumu is surprised as he follows Sakusa through the crowd. He wonders where they’re going as they leave the big crowd and make their way to the smaller party rooms. 

“Kiyoomi!” a voice calls, and it causes him to freeze in his steps.

The other man walks a bit further up, leaving Atsumu behind. Atsumu watches as a smaller figure embraces Sakusa in a hug. 

“It’s been a while, Y/N,” 

The sound of your name was almost foreign. Genuinely, it feels like he hasn’t heard that name in a millenia. He isn’t sure if he should go or keep standing there like an idiot, but fate chooses for him as you let go of the black-haired man and catch a glimpse of Atsumu behind him.

This is what Sakusa was talking about.

“Oh,” falls from your lips, “Atsumu? Is that you?”

He feels almost faint at the sound of his name coming from your mouth, your voice. His response comes out on his own.

“Y-Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” He curses himself for the tenseness of his words. 

You give him a smile, saying something to Sakusa that he can’t quite interpret before you walk closer to him. Were you coming up to him or walking past him? His mind turns to goo as you’re a breath away. 

“Did you want to come outside with me? It’s a little hot,”

It wasn’t that hot, it was actually somewhat cold, but Atsumu nodded and followed your lead. He doesn’t want to say too much, he’s scared. He’s scared if he were to say the wrong thing, he’d wake up from this dream.

Atsumu’s getting deja vu as you lead him through the big crowd and through the double doors. 

The two of you stand beside each other, letting the cool air blow past. It’s silent aside from the cars that drive by, and the distant music coming from inside. 

Atsumu is getting anxious with every passing second, he can’t stop himself from speaking. 

“How have you been?” He's thankful the words that escape are normal and not created off the impulsive thoughts he had earlier. 

He hears you take a deep breath before you respond, “I’ve been good, like actually. It’s really nice in California,”

You sound genuine and it makes him a little less tense.

“At first it was hard, since I only understood a bit of English, but I guess Duolingo really helps you out,” you laugh, “But I’ve met so many people, a lot of celebrities especially since they come to the games sometimes,”

“That’s good, Y/N,” Atsumu gives. He’s not sure what else to say. 

There’s a hesitant look in your eyes, “How… how have you been?”

“I’ve been good, too. My brother recommended me to his therapist so I did that for a while,” your eyes widened in surprise at that. 

“That’s good, Atsumu,”

He nods, “Yeah. Other than that, it’s been the same old, just playing volleyball,”

The two of you sit in another round of silence.

He’s surprised when you’re the one who brings up the subject he’s been dying to know.

“Have you been seeing anyone else?” your eyes find a place in the opposite direction of him.

“No, not at all. Not since, well, you know,” he beats himself up mentally for the way he worded that. Was that necessary? “And you?”

“Nope, I’ve been too busy, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve been celibate while here,” you let out a breathy laugh. “Party culture is huge in California,”

Your words prick a little at Atsumu’s heart, but who was he to judge?

“That’s cool,” a faux laugh escapes his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” your words caught him off guard, “I can’t lie to you, I have your name blocked on everything, so I didn’t know you were on the Japan National Team, but I’m proud of you,”

“It was definitely a shock to see your face from across the court,” you continue. “I hate to bring up the past, but I’m sorry for how harsh I was that night,”

“It’s fine, it was my fault,” Atsumu smiles down at you.

“Time away allowed me to really get in tune with my emotions and thoughts, and I finally think I was able to really forgive you. I mean not that it matters, I just think seeing you made me feel nostalgic,”

He laughs, “No, I get it. I feel similar,”

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning on seeing or talking to you at all during my time here. I was hoping we just wouldn’t cross paths, but I’m glad we did talk. Genuinely,”

“Same, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about you since I saw you on the court, and it was really scary considering I haven’t thought about you that much since years ago. But talking to you really helped, and I think maybe I finally got the closure my therapist was talking about,”

You share a small smile, “That’s good,”

The wind blows a bit harsher, the passage of time didn’t really click with Atsumu until now.

“You want to head inside?” he holds an arm out, which you hook onto.

“Sure,”

The rest of the Japan team are huddled in their own little group when the two of you approach them. Shot glasses are shoved into your hands before you can rebuttal. 

“I really shouldn’t–” Atsumu pushes. 

“Just do it, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto smiles.

Cheers, echoes through the air as the lot of you raise your glasses and down the hard liquor.

“I’m gonna find a seat just in case I collapse,” you whisper into his ear. He chuckles to himself when he remembers how much of a lightweight you are.

“I’ll come with,”

He’s surprised how quick you are to start yapping. Laughing as you go on and on about your ventures in California. It’s interesting though. The states made you glow and have definitely changed your demeanor. 

“I miss home, though,” you whine, “But I’m glad I’m coming home soon,”

Your words cause a brow of his to rise, “Soon?”

“Did Omi not tell you?” you mumble, there’s a confused-worried look on your face, “I’m coming back to Japan after the Olympics,”

“What?”

Your eyes widen, “W-Why? Should I not?”

“NO- I mean no, that’s great news,”

He can see you visibly settle down at his words. The two of your bodies melt into the couch as the time passes. He’s looking around, watching the other party goers have their own fun. Your breath falls into harmony with his own. 

The news you just dropped on him was definitely a shocker. He wasn’t quite sure how to process it.

Would you be coming back to MSBY? Probably not, huh? Maybe a nearby team? Maybe he should stop getting ahead of himself. He looks down at you, your eyes are dozing off. 

“Atsumu,” your voice is small as it calls out for him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still like me?”

FORGIVE OR FORGET

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[autumnshighlady]

Run For Your Life (pt. 2)

Dark!Azriel x dark!reader

summary: you've been with Azriel for 6 months now, and you began to embrace your twisted side. Azriel finds out what happens with you're pissed off, and you decide to punish him.

special dedication to @febbrile for giving me this idea for part 2

warnings: DARK FIC! both Az and reader are unhinged psychos, sub!azriel, dom!reader, flirting, possessiveness, knife play, orgasm denial, masturbation, face sitting, gore and violence, terrible communication, there's one thing that's deliberately left unclear (send me an ask with what you think it is / what actually happened)

word count: 8.7k

see the playlist for this fic

read part 1 here

A/N: As you may know, i've had a very rough few days. I was going to take a break from writing but decided to finish this fic up first, so the last 500 ish words are rushed and i apologize for that but i hope you enjoy anyway

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He purred before his shadows encompassed him and he vanished, leaving you alone wondering what just happened.

SIX MONTHS LATER

You tapped your nails on the wooden bartop, scowling. The whiskey burned your throat, but you barely felt it. You were pretty sure a male from a few seats down from you was trying to get your attention, but his yappy voice faded into the background. The skin tight black dress you donned was constricting, making your skin sticky and sweaty. But you paid it no mind, for your attention was elsewhere.

Azriel was chatting with a pretty female over by the counter where you order food. She was tall and leggy, curly black hair swept into an elegant updo that showed off the open back of her dress. Her hand was brushing against Azriel’s arm, her head thrown back in a high pitched laugh at a joke that surely can’t have been that funny. Anger shot through your veins as Azriel’s white canines flashed in a charming smile, not even glancing your direction.

You couldn’t decide whose throat you wanted to slit more.

For the past six months, Azriel’s visits had become an everyday routine. At first, you had resisted, attempting to fight him off as you began to realise one night wasn’t enough to satisfy his obsession with you. He always emerged victorious, always getting what he wanted in the end, your traitorous body urging you to let him take care of you. It had taken you a few weeks to come to your senses, but you were glad. Azriel knew exactly how to take care of you, not just in the bedroom, but in everyday life. He chose your outfits for you, your meals, your nights out, everything. At first, you hated it. But now, it was freeing. You no longer had to worry about anything, knowing Azriel would take care of it.

Azriel took excellent care of things that belonged to him.

Every cell in your body needed him now. He was like oxygen, a constant requirement to keep your body going. Every second the shadowsinger spent away from you was pure torture, leaving you a whiny mess when he returned from work. To anyone else, it would seem pathetic, like you were a helpless wreck of a female. But they couldn’t be more wrong. It was the opposite – it made you powerful. Not only did you belong to Azriel, but Azriel belonged to you. You had the spymaster of the Night Court all to yourself, wrapped around your finger and ready to bend the world to your whim. 

Except it didn’t feel that way right now, as the male you were now completely obsessed with was eyeing up the cleavage on another female. You scowled harder as he did nothing to deter the female as she stepped even closer to him, practically crawling into his lap. The bartender handed you another shot, and you angrily downed it, not even feeling the burn.

A male slid into the seat next to you, so close you could smell his cheap cologne. He was on the shorter side, blonde shaggy hair framing his boyish face. Large eyes drank in your figure hungrily, and he slid a hand up your back with the confidence of a much more attractive male. “Another drink for the lady over here.” He said to the bartender, flashing you what he must have thought was a charming smile. “So, what’s a pretty female like you doing–”

“Fuck off.” You grumbled, interrupting him. You reached behind and slapped his arm off your back, his skin like a wad of slime on your own.

“Oh, come on, baby,” The male persisted. “I just bought you a drink. The least you could do is entertain me.”

You groaned inwardly, sneaking a glance at Azriel. He had finally looked up at you, hazel eyes simmering with rage. The female leaning against him was too busy giggling to notice that his attention was no longer on her. His scarred hand was limp on her waist, his body frozen as he glared at you. It made you snort, how hypocritical he was being to only look at you when another male had your attention, despite him being the one with a female draping herself all over him.

So you ignored the shadowsinger. Let him have a hissy fit, as far as you were concerned he was going to fuck the pretty female anyway. If he can branch out, why can’t you. You quickly downed the drink the bartender sat in front of you, then turned toward the blonde male next to you, giving him your best sultry look. “I have a better idea,” You purred. “Why don’t I entertain you somewhere else?”

His eyes widened, a look of surprise and glee crossing his face as he fumbled to toss some money to the bartender for the drinks. You gathered your purse, turning around to meet Azriel’s stare once again. Rage came off him in waves, causing the few fae around him to scatter themselves elsewhere. Even the female that had been all over him had taken a step back in uncertainty, her eyes flickering between him and where his gaze was fixed – you. The spymaster’s body was frozen, a muscle in his neck twitching in anger. You half expected him to storm over and fling the male aside, grab you by the waist and drag you home to punish you. But he did no such thing. He only glared at you as you grabbed the male by the arm, leading him towards the exit.

You didn’t glance back at Azriel as the male followed you out of the bar and down the road towards the nearby motel.

**********************

Sunlight crept in through the small window next to the bed. The motel’s breakfast was dry and tasteless on your tongue, but you downed it anyway. The bed sheets were half on the floor, your dress from last night draped across the chair in the corner. You were wearing the male’s button-up shirt, the itchy fabric pungent with his scent mixed with yours, the bottom barely long enough to cover your ass. It was uncomfortable, but your dress got ruined last night anyway. You’d have to find somewhere to dispose of it properly.

You had a pounding headache, but the memories from last night couldn’t have been more clear. The images of Azriel’s angry glare, the male’s hands on your body, the pathetic noises he made for you after you left the bar, they were all crystal clear in your mind. You were still furious with Azriel, but satisfied that you got him back.

However, a part of you knew he was angrier than ever before. There had not been a trace of his presence all night, not even his shadows that seemed to always be around you, reporting your every movement back to him. Evidently, he hadn’t even tried to find out where you had gone last night. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous – either Azriel had abandoned you completely, or he was sitting at home, just waiting for you to return.

You shuddered, wondering what he was going to do to you. Maybe he truly would leave you for the other female, maybe that’s how mad he was.

No. You weren’t going to let him do that.

You downed the rest of the breakfast, gathering your things to get ready to check out. You sighed when you realised you had no pants, as the only thing the male had left behind was his undershirt. You stuffed your ruined dress in a paper bag, shut off the lights and left the motel room, not caring that your ass was nearly on display for the world to see.

First stop was to find some pants, and then you had business to take care of.

**********************

Luckily, it didn’t take you long to find a store to obtain some pants. Everyone had stared at your bare legs as you wandered in, but you didn’t care. In fact, it made you chuckle. If Azriel was here, he would have gone ballistic. He was the only one allowed to see you like this. If he knew that over a dozen people had seen your ass cheeks in the last hour, you couldn’t even imagine what he’d have done.

With a set of pants, you had returned to the bar, posing as a friend of the female Azriel was with last night and trying to find out more about her. The mother seemed to be on your side that day, as one of the bartenders was a close friend of hers. He blabbed easily, and within minutes you were able to find out her name, where she usually went on Saturday mornings like this one, and where she lived. Her name was Beatrice, and she always went to the farmer’s market every weekend to pick up fresh vegetables for the week. She lived in a house near the theatre, right in the heart of the city.

So you wandered towards the farmer’s market, hair down and hanging loosely around your face to hide it. The air was crisp and fresh, chatter from the market filling the air as you hovered in the corner, pretending to sift through a barrel of apples.

It wasn’t hard to spot Beatrice. Her curly black hair was trailing down her back, her cheeks flushed with evidence of a hangover. She wore a simple pair of black leggings and a yellow sweater, a cheerful smile on her face as she chatted with one of the vendors. It was almost annoying how she looked just as elegant as she had last night. You made sure to trail her from a distance, staying out of her sight. You wondered if Azriel would be proud, but shook off the thought as soon as it came. 

Once you were sure Beatrice only had a few more things to pick up at the market, you slunk down one of the alleys and headed towards her house. You knew it was the fastest way, allowing you to get to her house before she did.

It was a modest home, sunflowers lining the windowsill and a small swing on the porch. The trim was a deep brown, the wooden accents giving it a charming feel. You crept towards one of the windows along the side of the house, sneaking a glance behind you to ensure nobody was watching. You knew breaking into a house in one of the busiest parts of the city was risky. But that was also the beauty of it – there was so much going on that nobody paid attention to you.

It wasn’t hard to take a small knife and pop open the window then crawl through. You gently closed it behind you, then scanned the interior. You were in the living room, and you couldn’t deny that it impressed you. An elegant piano was in the corner, a large couch next to it with a soft-looking blanket with butterflies on it draped over the top. Various trinkets were scattered across the room, ranging from ancient-looking candle holders to a small music box designed to look like a bird cage. 

You couldn’t scent Azriel in the room, much to your surprise. But that surprise was replaced by anger – if he hadn’t taken her here, then he could have taken her to his home. The thought made you see red, but you took deep breaths and settled yourself on the sofa. Beatrice would be home any minute.

About ten minutes later, the sound of keys turning the lock at the door snapped your attention back to the present. The door opened, and Beatrice entered with a large bag of vegetables. She didn’t notice you at first, closing the door behind her and turning the lock shut.

“You know, you should really lock your windows too.” You spoke casually, and the female whirled around in fright, dropping her groceries. Her brown eyes widened in fear as they met yours, and you smirked.

“What… who the hell are you and why are you in my living room?” Beatrice stammered, backing herself up against the door.

You snorted, fiddling with the necklace you had picked up off the coffee table. It was the one she was wearing last night, you remembered – a gold chain with a small emerald. “Oh, come on,” You snorted. ‘You clearly didn’t have that much to drink last night, seeing as you were able to grocery shop this morning. Think harder.”

She frowned, and then her face went slack as the realisation appeared to hit. “You were at the bar last night. I saw you leave with that blonde male. Azriel was furious about it.”

Bingo. “Ah, so you know Azriel then.”

“Not really. We met last night and flirted. It was going well until he saw you with that male, then things got tense.”

Your voice was cold as ice as you spoke. “So Azriel flirted back, then?”

Beatrice shrugged. “Yes? I see no issue with that considering you left with another male, I assumed you weren’t together. Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on so you can leave?”

“Come, sit.” You patted the space next to you. Beatrice stayed still for a moment, then carefully walked over to the couch. Her body was tense as she sat down, her breathing shallow.

“Look,” She said slowly. “I don’t know what the deal between you two is. I thought he was available, because he flirted back with me. He did not mention you, and I am sorry about that. But then he went quiet when he saw you with the male, and he was furious when you left with him. He tried to keep flirting with me after, tried to convince me to let him come home with me, but I turned him down. I wasn’t about to be caught up between some weird power struggle between what seems to be a fighting couple. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him use me as revenge. So I rejected his advances and went home alone. That’s all, I promise.”

You swallowed the bile in your throat. Azriel had started this by flirting with Beatrice, you had every reason to retaliate. You knew Azriel probably wanted to take her home, but hearing it out loud made it even worse. 

Your face must have given it away, because Beatrice’s expression softened a bit. “I’m sorry, I really am. This must be hard to hear.” She said quietly. “But in his defence, you went home with another male–”

“Shut up!” You yelled, slamming a fist into the table in front of you and making it shake. “Don’t defend him, I wouldn’t have gone home with that male if Azriel hadn’t been flirting with you first.”

Beatrice flinched away from you, fear beginning to creep back into her expression once again as she stood up. “I’m sorry,” She said. “I’m not here to judge you. I don’t want any part of this. But I’ve explained my side to you, so I think it’s best you leave.”

Beatrice walked over to where her groceries lay all over the floor and began picking them up. You bit your lip so hard you nearly drew blood, fist trembling with anger. You knew you should feel relieved that Azriel hadn’t fucked Beatrice, but that wasn’t enough.

So you took deep breaths, relaxing your body and leaning back into the soft cushion. “I’m better, you know.” You said, voice dropping huskily.

The female froze, turning around to face you once again. “What?”

“I’m better than Azriel.” 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Your voice purred like a cat as you stood up, walking over to Beatrice. She didn’t move as you closed in on her space, your body less than a foot from hers. You could smell her sweet scent, honey and lavender, you noted. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and you leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Azriel is good in bed, but not as good as I am. Sure, he would have given you an enjoyable night, a great one even. And since Azriel is mine, and he failed to give you what you sought after, I feel I am obligated to fulfil your needs in his stead.”

Beatrice inhaled sharply, and you chuckled. You had always enjoyed bedding both males and females, and it had been so long with you submitting to Azriel that you had almost forgotten what it was like to seduce a beautiful female.

“I don’t want to get caught up in whatever this is between you two…” Beatrice’s voice was weak, the scent of her growing arousal betraying her lie.

“Oh, but this is just between you and me.” You said coolly, brushing a curly lock from her face. “Our little secret.”

When you cupped her cheek, she leaned into your touch. Satisfied, you smiled and stepped closer, pressing your body against hers. Your lips brushed hers as you spoke. “I need to hear you say it,” You murmured, caressing her waist with your free hand. “That you want me. Not him.”

“I…” Beatrice’s voice was barely above a whisper. She leaned forward in an attempt to connect her lips with your own, but you drew back.

“Be a good girl and say it.”

“I want you, not him.” She moaned as you squeezed her waist gently. “Please.”

You smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door at the back where you knew her bedroom was.

**********************

The sun was setting as you made your way back home, a small bag of vegetables in hand. The orange rays from the sunset reflected off the emerald necklace, the chain cold as ice around your neck. You knew Azriel would be waiting for you, and you were ready. You ignored the chill of the wind, still in the male’s shirt whose name you never bothered to learn. It offered you little protection against the cold, and you looked forward to the warmth of your home.

Stepping up to your door, the house looked empty. It was an illusion to anyone who walked by. You could sense Azriel’s presence in there, like an icy frost on the wood just waiting to bite you. But you didn’t care what Azriel’s wrath would bring. You had your own plan. 

You swung open the door, locking it behind you and placing the bag of vegetables on your counter.

“Would you mind telling me where the fuck you’ve been?”

Having expected him to make a dramatic out-of-the-dark entrance, you didn’t flinch like you used to when he’d sneak up on you. You sighed in annoyance, knowing it’d infuriate him more. “Farmer’s market.” You said dryly.

Azriel’s towering form appeared from the shadows, coming across to face you on the other side of the counter. You knew he was glaring at you, but you didn’t spare him a glance. “From sunup to sundown?” He demanded.

You shrugged, laying out the vegetables. “It was a busy farmer’s market.”

A shadow found its way to your chin, yanking it up and forcing you to look at him. The sight of Azriel made you gulp. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen, the anger coming off of him in waves. If you were anyone else, you’d have cowered in fear. But you only raised an eyebrow. “Don’t lie to me.” He said icily. “You were with that male last night, were you with him today, too?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you?” You spat. “You were too busy burying your dick inside that female to notice me. Not my fault someone else finished what you couldn’t.” The words were completely untrue, but you didn’t care. You just needed them to land their mark.

Azriel laughed heartlessly, but the anger in his eyes grew stronger. “Are you really that fucking pathetic that I’m not allowed to take my attention off of you for five minutes? Is that all it takes for you to go crawling to the nearest male ready to get fucked?”

“She was flirting with you, you absolute prick!” You screamed at him, ripping away from the shadow’s grip and storming towards the bedroom. “And you flirted back! Don’t act like you’re the victim here. You wanted to make me jealous, but what? You didn’t think I was capable of doing the same?”

Azriel followed you. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You tried to slam the door in his face, but his muscular arm caught it, easily prying it open. Azriel roughly grabbed you and slammed you into the wall. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he didn’t budge. “You’re the one who fucked someone else, not me.” He growled. 

You chuckled manically. “Is that what you think happened, Az?”

His grip tightened, bruising your arms. “Don’t play dumb, you stupid whore. I saw you leave with him.”

You kept chuckling, body singing with adrenaline. You saw Azriel’s gaze go down to your body, where an unmistakably male shirt clung to you. The look in his eyes was positively murderous. Wordlessly, he let go of you and you fell to the ground, continuing to laugh at him as he went towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” You asked through giggles.

Azriel grabbed truth-teller from his waist, turning to face you. “You have one chance to tell me where that male is, or I will find him myself.”

You pushed yourself up, sighing and letting out another sick laugh. Excitement bubbled in you as you spoke. “I’m not sure there will be much left of him to find.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. He went utterly still, hand frozen on the door handle. Nothing moved, except for you. You were practically buzzing, a new kind of high taking over you. 

“What are you talking about?” Azriel’s voice was low.

**********************

The male’s hands were all over you as you walked towards the motel. You resisted the urge to squirm away at his teenager-like giddiness. You didn’t feel the cold night air, your body was hot with adrenaline.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.” The male said breathlessly, squeezing your ass with one hand. 

You let out a fake laugh, but lead him off the cobblestone road. The motel was a few feet away, but that wasn’t where you wanted to take him. Your heels sunk into the mud, dirtying your feet as you headed towards the dark trees in the distance. You felt the male slow behind you.

“Aren’t we going to the motel?” He asked with uncertainty.

“What fun would that be?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him harder. “Come on, trust me.”

The moron just shrugged and continued to follow you. It was another ten minutes before you found a clearing, having nearly tripped over giant roots to get there. This place would do nicely, you decided.

You turned around to face the male, but his shirt was already off and he was in the process of unbuttoning his pants. “Adventurous!” He said excitedly. “I am so fucking hard baby, if you don’t get on your knees and do something about it now I think I might die.”

“Yes,” You said, sliding the knife out of the holster on your thigh. “You will.”

The male barely had a chance to speak before you brought the dagger up and slashed it across his face. Blood spurted from the nasty gash as he fell down, sobbing and clutching his face. His pants were down at his knees, a truly pathetic sight.

“There’s only one male allowed to touch me,” You said calmly. “And if he found out you laid your hands on me, he would do much worse to you than what I’m going to do. So be grateful.”

The male sobbed, pleading and begging pathetically for you to spare his life. But you weren’t phased. After all, your words were true. Nothing you did to him could compare to what Azriel would have done. You were proud of yourself for granting him this mercy. You didn’t know this male at all, know if he’d done anything to deserve a more painful death. But truthfully, you didn’t care.

You leaned down over him, pressing your body into his. It made you want to vomit, but you needed as much of his scent on you as possible. “I want you to thank me.” You said sternly. “Thank me for being merciful. Without me, your death would be stretched over the span of months, if not years. So thank me.”

“Thank you!” The male shouted. “Please, let me go!” It seemed he would do anything you asked if he thought there was a chance at sparing his life. But there wasn’t.

You slashed the dagger across his throat, and hot blood spurted all over you, coating your dress. The male choked on his own blood, sick gurgling sounds echoing throughout the eerie quietness of the clearing. It didn’t take long for the light to fade from his eyes, and death finally claimed him.

Satisfied, you stood up and headed over to the creek to wash the blood off your skin and wipe down the dagger. The water was refreshing, soothing your warm cheeks. You grabbed the male’s discarded shirt and pulled your ruined dress off, rolling the fabric into a ball and stuffing it into your purse. Pulling the shirt over your head, you strode back in the direction of the motel, knowing the wolves will have gotten rid of the body for you by sunhigh.

**********************

You smirked as Azriel stared you down after you told him the story, dumbfounded. His lack of ability to comprehend that you killed the male was almost insulting, but you mostly found it funny. He looked adorable with his eyes wide and his jaw slack, shock written all over his pretty face. It made your blood sing.

“You killed him.” It was more of a statement than a question. No judgement laced Azriel’s deep voice, just awe. Almost as if he was impressed.

“I did.” You said proudly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You would have been proud of me, Az, if you were there. If you had actually paid attention to me instead of trying to fuck Beatrice.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, and you instantly realised your mistake. He took a step towards you, cocking his head. “I never told you her name.”

You cursed inwardly at your slip up. You had gotten so caught up in sticking it to Azriel that you mentioned Beatrice by name, something you weren’t supposed to do. Oh well, you’d just have to improvise. “No, you didn’t.” You purred, pointedly bringing your hand up to toy with the emerald necklace.

Azriel’s hazel eyes zoned in on the necklace, and his face went slack once again. “Did you kill her too?”

You giggled, the ice cold necklace a contrast against your warm fingers. “That doesn’t matter to you. Because you won’t get to fuck her, so it shouldn’t matter if she’s dead or alive.”

“She was innocent in this.” Azriel growled. “She didn’t know you were with me.”

“Innocent is hardly the word I’d use.” You snorted. “Besides, you don’t get to be a fucking hypocrite. So you can kill males who put their hands on me but I can’t do the same?”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Azriel hissed, towering over you with his wings flaring. “You are mine. It is my job to protect you, to keep your hands clean. You should not be involved in this shit”

You glared up at him. “I guess I’m just as twisted as you now.”

Something inside the spymaster shifted at your words, and his shoulders slumped. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around you, pulling you into his strong chest. You felt his chin rest against the top of your head, and he inhaled your scent. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” He murmured. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have ignored you, this is all my fault. Please forgive me, I cannot lose you. You are all I think about every breathing moment of my existence. There’s not a line in the world I wouldn’t cross for you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Part of you wanted to melt into Azriel’s arms, to let him shield you from the rest of the world. To lay you down and worship your body like a priest at the altar, making you feel good and see stars. He was so good at taking care of you, even when he was an ass about it he always knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

But for the first time, you didn’t give in, wanting to show that side of you that you had kept hidden from him. Until now. “You want to make it up to me, Az?” You cooed.

He nodded against your hair, squeezing tighter.

“Kneel.” You said firmly. 

Azriel paused, pulling away but keeping his hands on your waist as he stared down at you in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, kneel.” Your voice was edged like steel, a husky but harsh tone to it, one you hadn’t used in a while. At first, you weren’t sure if it would work. Azriel was a dominant male and loved control, seeing if he would be willing to give it up for you was a huge gamble.

But while Azriel had never uttered the words ‘I love you’, he had always promised you that you were his world, that he would do anything for you. And this was his chance to prove it.

“You think you’re in charge?” Azriel’s tone was light, testing the waters to see if you were serious or not. “Come on, sweetheart. You know how good I can make you feel. Let me take over, so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

You stood with your chin high, unflinching as you repeated yourself. “Kneel.”

Azriel swallowed, and for a moment you thought he was going to laugh and walk out. But the male simply bowed his head, dropping to his knees and placing his scarred hands in his lap. You stepped back, satisfied as you admired the view. The silver moonlight through the windows cast beautiful highlights across the Illyrian. His glorious wings were flared out slightly, the bottom part lightly trailing on the ground. Azriel’s dark hair cast shadows across his face, the only light coming from it being his curious hazel eyes looking up at you. He looked like a fallen angel, a once mighty god begging at your feet. 

Satisfaction flooded through your body. The roles would be reversed tonight, you decided. Azriel would be the one begging you this time. You began unbuttoning your shirt, and the male’s hands instinctively reached up to help, so you slapped them away. “Did I say you could move?” You demanded.

“No.” Azriel said sullenly, moving his hands back into his lap obediently. His eyes were dark, a turmoil of emotions behind them. You could tell he was fighting his instincts to assume his usual role, grabbing you and pinning you to the bed to do with as he pleased. But he was fighting to obey you, to give you satisfaction in a different form.

“Then stay there,” You commanded sternly. “And watch.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, seemingly swallowing his protests as he nodded. You shed your shirt and pants, striding confidently over to your bedside drawer, letting your hips sway as you went. You could feel Azriel’s intense gaze burning into you with curiosity, making you chuckle inwardly. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

For months, Azriel had controlled your pleasure. He decided when you could touch yourself, when you were allowed to cum, how many times you could be pushed over the edge. And you gladly gave yourself to him, willingly subjecting yourself to his torturous teasing whenever he was mad at you. Once, the spymaster had edged you for an entire night until you passed out. Tears had streamed down your face for hours, body aching the next day from being so tense. Azriel was a generous lover, but a cruel one as well. And now it was your time to turn the tables on him.

You opened the drawer, grabbing the blue vibrator he had gifted you all those months ago. It hadn’t been used much since – there were only a few times when Azriel’s shadows would hold the vibrator to your clit as he pounded into you, as he preferred to use his own hands. As good as the vibrator was, it couldn’t compare to the spymaster’s touch. Which is why you knew he was about to be driven to madness.

Sexual weapon in hand, you walked back over to the kneeling Illyrian. You stopped centimetres from his face, which was level with your thigh. He was breathing heavy, eyes dark as he inhaled your scent. But he had learned from his previous mistake it seemed, as he kept his hands to his sides.

“Take off my panties.” You said coldly. “And do not use your hands.”

Azriel stared up at you, the hazel in his eyes barely visible. He leaned forward, his teeth finding the edge of your blue lace panties. They grasped it, his lips brushing your skin as sharp canines tugged at the fabric. He visibly shuddered, his lips so close to where he wanted them to be, yet not allowed to touch. The scent of your arousal was thick in the air, forcing Azriel to ignore it. You sucked in a breath as his eyes met yours as he managed to slowly pull them down your thighs, not breaking eye contact as they fell to your feet.

You stepped out of the fabric, kicking them to the side and turning around to settle yourself on the bed. You sat on the end, facing Azriel and slowly spreading open your legs. The male’s eyes zeroed in on your glistening cunt, and you noticed his hands trembling with effort to keep them at his sides. You turned on the vibrator, placing the suctioning tip against your clit. The sensation made your legs twitch at the sudden contact, and you let out a loud moan, letting your free hand cup your breast.

Admittedly, the moan was a bit of an exaggeration to piss off Azriel. Evidently, it worked. The shadowsinger was glaring at you. “Oh please,” He scoffed. “We both know that won’t be enough to satisfy you.”

You let out another sigh, kicking the vibrator’s intensity up a notch. “It’s more than you gave me last night. I wore one of your favourite dresses, and you didn’t even try to touch me. I’ve had to go and find satisfaction elsewhere, since you wouldn’t give me any.”

The room was stifling, the scent of Azriel’s arousal mixed with your own, and the faintest traces of Beatrice’s honey and lavender perfume clinging to your skin. You rocked your hips against the toy, your cunt weeping mere feet from Azriel’s desperate face.

“Stop.” He growled sternly. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Come on, you know I can do better than that toy.”

 You ignored him, your other hand trailing from your breast across your collarbones, caressing all over your skin as you felt that familiar pressure build up in your stomach. It was a slightly foreign sensation, a different feeling than how the buildup to your orgasm when Azriel ate you out felt, or the way your body neared climax with his cock buried inside you. You imagined it was Azriel’s fingers on your clit, expertly working you as you came closer to your orgasm.

“Ok, this little act is over.” Azriel tried to sound firm, but there was a weakness in his voice that dimmed his threat. “Let me touch you. You know the rule – you’re not allowed to cum without my permission. And I don’t give you permission.”

You chuckled at the falter in his tone. “No. You are going to sit there and watch me do what you failed to do the other night. Your rules don’t apply tonight, Az, so suck it up. If you want to touch me, you’ll have to beg.”

Your voice went high pitched as your legs began to shake. Azriel’s protests faded into background noise as you came, your lower body heated and electrified as your orgasm went through you. It wasn’t as intense as some you’d had before, but the unceasing buzzing against your clit as you writhed through your high made you oversensitive. 

Once you had come down from your climax, you set the vibrator aside, staring at Azriel. The veins in his arms were prominent with his effort to keep himself from pouncing on you. Disbelief was written all over his face, as if he couldn’t believe you had actually obeyed him. And that he had let you.

“I told you, your rules don’t apply tonight.” You panted heavily. “Now remove your clothes and lay down on the bed.”

Azriel scrambled to his feet, glaring at you but obliging anyways. He smirked confidently as he peeled his shirt off, revealing those rock hard abs that you loved riding so much. You could never get enough of his body, no matter how many times he stripped in front of you. He was truly a work of art from head to toe.

The spymaster unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to reveal his rock hard erection. Your mouth watered at the sight of his naked form, but you did not budge. You only stared at him coldly, rather than dropping to your knees and giving in like he had clearly expected. Letting out a huff of frustration, Azriel crawled onto his bed, flipping onto his back and settling in.

Shadows curled around his wrists, bringing his arms above his head and holding them prisoner there. Azriel’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and you giggled. It seems his shadows were on your side tonight. 

You crawled over top of him, straddling his waist. His hard cock poked into your backside, making your core pulse against his muscled lower abs. You leaned over top of him, placing one hand beside his head and placing your face inches from his own. The spymaster was breathing heavily, staring up at you with awe. 

“You weren’t good to me last night, Azriel.” Your voice dropped, a dangerous tone gleaming on the edge of it. “You flirted with another female when I had gotten all dressed up for you. Instead of even just looking at me, you tried to take her home and fuck her instead of me.”

“I didn’t f–” Azriel’s protest was cut off by a gasp, as you lifted your hips off of him and your free hand reached down and firmly gripped the base of his cock, just how he liked it. He choked on his words, eyes widening as you slowly moved your hand up and down.

“You think she’d be enough to satisfy you?” You teased, mocking his words to you earlier. “She satisfied me well enough. But she wouldn’t be able to give you what I can. She wouldn’t know how you like your cock stroked, but I do.”

To emphasise your point, you squeezed him tighter and twisted your wrist, letting your thumb graze the slit. Azriel let out a breathy moan, shutting his eyes. 

“Look at me.” You snapped, forcing the male to open his eyes. He obliged, letting out little gasps as you continued to stroke him. 

You leaned forward and let your lips graze his neck, your teeth skimming the skin ever so slightly as you picked up the pace of your strokes. Azriel whimpered underneath you – whimpered. The sound was pathetic and needy, and filled you with so much joy. His pretty face was scrunched up with effort, his hands writhing in his unrelenting shadows. You lightly sucked and bit all across his neck and collarbones, knowing that the feather light touches would drive him wild and send him towards his orgasm faster. You knew Azriel always lasted a long time, his god-like stamina making your body tremble as he relentlessly pounded you through orgasm after orgasm.

But you knew by the way his cock twitched in your hand that he wouldn’t last long like this. You let the tip of his cock graze your slit as you pumped, and the shadowsinger moaned loudly, his muscles flexing.

“You like that, pretty boy?” You cooed against his neck.

Azriel whimpered, bucking his hips into your hand.

“None of that now,” You chastised. “I asked you a question.”

He exhaled. “Yes.” Was all he could manage through his moans. 

“I can feel how close you are, it’s pathetic. Normally you last longer. Is this something you’ve dreamed of, baby? Hm? Tell me, do you want to cum?”

Azriel’s eyelids fluttered as he fought to keep still underneath you, a thin sheen of sweat coating his tanned body. “Yes! Gods, yes. Please.”

You sank your teeth into his neck, biting down harshly and making him cry out. Your hand next to his arm shifted, letting your fingertips graze the edge of his wing. “Beg for it then.”

“Please,” The spymaster whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want. Please, just let me cum. Please.”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. Just as his abs tensed signifying his nearing release, you sat up and released his cock. Azriel let out a frustrated yet pathetic groan. “What the fuck?” He protested.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end of that one, is it?” You asked, sitting down on his abs and lazily grinding yourself into them. “I know you’d rather die than admit that you secretly fucking loved it. How pathetic is that? The mighty spymaster of the Night Court, crying underneath me because I wouldn’t let him finish.”

Azriel’s face was deep red, his jaw clenched. A few strands of black hair clung to his forehead. “Please,” He begged with droopy eyes. “I fucked up. Let me make it up to you. Please, let me touch you. Let me make you feel good. Please, I need to touch you. I need you. All I want is to make you feel good.”

You scraped your nail down his chest, eliciting a shiver from the body beneath you. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

A wave of arousal had rushed through your veins at not just the title, but the ease at which he said it. It rolled off his tongue so naturally. Sure, you had been called many names in the bedroom before in both submissive and dominant roles, but this was new. And you fucking loved it.

You gripped his chin firmly, letting your nails dig into the skin as you brought your face closer to his. “Say that again.”

He gulped. “Yes ma’am. Please, let me make you feel good.”

You chuckled darkly, sitting up. The shadows repositioned his arms slightly, giving more room on either side of Azriel’s head for what you were about to do, as if they knew already. “I’m going to sit on your face and use you like my own personal toy. You are going to choke on my cunt just as I have choked on your cock, and you are going to be grateful for it and thank me after. You do not get to touch me with your hands, and you will take what I give you. Am I clear?”

Azriel nodded vigorously, eyes gleaming. Truthfully, you knew this was a reward for him. There was nothing in this world he loved more than eating you out. He had often even encouraged you to ride his face. But never before had he not been able to grab your hips and touch you.

You climbed up his body, seating one knee on either side of his head where the shadows had now cleared space for you. As you slowly lowered your cunt towards his face, the Illyrian strained his neck to lift his head as high as he could in a pathetic attempt to get closer to your core.

Briefly, you recalled all the times Azriel had lectured you about how you refused to fully sit on his face, afraid you’d suffocate him. He’d always end up growling in frustration and grabbing your hips, firmly pulling you down so you were seated on his face. 

It was time you showed him you learned your lesson.

With no warning, you lowered your cunt onto his face, fully seating yourself on it and grabbing onto his hair with both hands. Azriel groaned in delight underneath you, the sound sending vibrations right into your core. You moaned in relief, rocking your hips against his face. Lewd noises filled the room as Azriel ate you out like a man who hadn’t had a meal in days, eagerly slurping up all your juices. You shamelessly ground into his face, wanting more.

You cried out as his tongue shoved its way inside you, your clit scraping his nose in a way that made your legs twitch. For a second you wondered how Azriel was managing to breathe, but his relentlessness reassured you that he was perfectly fine somehow.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” You moaned. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Eating my pussy? Pretty boy is just a desperate little whore, isn’t that right?”

The noise Azriel made was muffled, but akin to a pathetic whimper. Something you knew would ring in your ears like a new favourite song.

It only took a few more minutes before your orgasm built up, barrelling towards you at rapid speed. Your thighs tensed up, clenching around his face as you came, yanking harshly on his silky hair. Azriel groaned as you did so, your juices coating his face. Part of you had been tempted to not let him make you finish, but you couldn’t help it. His mouth felt too good on you, something you had missed over the last few days.

Finally, you lifted yourself off Azriel’s face, hearing him take in a gasping breath as you did so. His hazel eyes were closed in bliss, face shiny from your juices as he panted for air. “Thank you, ma’am.” He murmured. You crawled down his body, seating yourself back on his abs while you collected your composure.

“You did so good, Az.” You purred, reaching behind you and gently brushing your fingers against his hard cock. “You’re so good to me. Now, have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Azriel said breathlessly. 

“What lesson would that be?”

“Don’t flirt with other females.”

“Exactly.” You pulled out Truth-Teller from its sheath and pressed the sharp blade against his throat, the shadows having discreetly brought it to you from the spymaster’s discarded belt. “You are mine, and mine only. Nobody else gets to have you but me. Nobody gets to touch you but me. If they do, I will remove their hands and feed their body to the beasts in the woods. And if you try to touch another female in a manner I would not deem fit, it will be your body that gets fed to the creatures. Understood?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of awe, horror, and lust. It made you chuckle inwardly, how he seemed surprised that this is who you had become. You weren’t sure why he would be – he had become your new life, every fibre of your being tied to his and his alone. Azriel was unhinged and possessive to begin with, even more so now that he had you.

He was bad, but you were worse.

“Yes ma’am.” Azriel croaked out, swallowing against the cold metal of the blade.

“Good. Now you’ve made me cum, I think it’s only fair if I let you do the same, right?”

“You may do as you see fit, ma’am.”

A smile bloomed across your face. You could tell it was hard for him to say – his cock was hard as a diamond, his body begging for a release. But he chose the right answer. “Correct. You may fuck me now, any position you see fit. But you are not to cum without my permission.”

The second the shadows binding Azriel’s wrists together slipped away, his scarred hands grabbed your waist and flipped you over, pinning you underneath him. His eyes were frantic as if he worried you’d change your mind. He roughly spread your legs and you let him, relishing in the feeling of him over top of you. He lined up his cock with your entrance and slammed in.

You gasped, the air leaving your body. Azriel’s size was something you would never quite get used to. It had taken you a long time to be able to take him with no preparation, and even then it still hurt like hell for the first bit. But you learned to relish in the pain, especially when he praised you for taking him so well.

But there was no praise coming from his lips this time. Azriel fucked you relentlessly, chasing the pleasure that you had denied him earlier. His movements were frantic, a change from his usual deliberate pace. The room was filled with slapping sounds and moans. Azriel was hitting so deep inside of you that you began to feel dizzy, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Azriel had fucked you harder than anyone ever had before, but this was completely different. It took less than five minutes for Azriel to tense up, signifying he was approaching his orgasm quickly.

“You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” You teased, voice shaky with the force of his thrusts.

Azriel leaned over you, his head next to yours with one arm cradled around your head. “Yes! Please, I need it! Please let me cum.” His voice was utterly broken and fragmented.

You were silent for ten seconds, just long enough to feel the panic coming from him, making him think you were going to say no. But you brought a hand up and stroked his wing in that one spot you knew drove him crazy. “Yes. Good boy. Cum for me, Azriel.”

The spymaster erupted into a powerful orgasm the second his name finished leaving your lips. Hot seed filled your insides, making you cry out. His hips jutted against you as he came, his head tilted back exposing his throat as he moaned loudly, a single tear running down his cheek.

Azriel’s thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, pumping his cum back into you as it spilled out of your hole. He panted, wings twitching as he pulled out and slumped down into the spot beside you on the bed. “Thank you, ma’am.” 

You hummed, satisfied with your work. If you had told yourself months ago that you would be the one to break Azriel one night, you’d have laughed at yourself. It filled you with pride, seeing the stone cold, dominating shadowsinger become a whimpering mess all because of you. 

It made everything you had done worth it.

You reached for Truth-Teller, propping yourself up beside him and putting the cold blade onto his skin, causing him to flinch and look at you in surprise. You trailed the knife down his body, circling it around where his heart was. You angled the blade, pressing the tip of it into his skin, right above the beating muscle. A thin trail of blood ran down from the cut. “This heart is mine. And if you try to give it to anyone else, I will carve it out of you myself.”

The shadowsinger was holding his breath, unmoving against your touch. You knew that he would easily be able to disarm you if he needed to, but there was still a hint of fear in his eyes.

No, he was not scared of you cutting his heart from his chest. He was scared of you running away from him.

You smirked, satisfied at his reaction. You weren’t going anywhere. You were right here with Azriel, where you belonged. 

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

Okay question. Cause I see everybody be like “this is not true to Wilhelms character” “end of s2 wilhelm would never” and I just don’t understand that point of view? To me this makes so much sense as yeah he ended s2 with saying that it was him - but as simons friend also pointed out: he did that without talking to Simon about it. And I feel like with everything happening around him it makes so much sense to act the way he does. Is it good behavior? No, but with the way he was raised I wouldn’t expect otherwise. And also, it’s not like he’s the worst person to ever exist (also it is hilarious to me that he tries to solve every conflict between him and Simon by having sex or making out - peak teenage behavior). I’m just curious as to your pov of his character this season so far.

I think this is very much true to Wilhelm's character. Impulsivity and protectiveness have always been two of his key traits and we see that consistently throughout the season. He often acts impulsively to protect himself and/or Simon, even if he ends up doing the opposite in the end.

And it is because of how he was raised that he doesn't check with people before acting. He has never had a good example of that. He has always had decisions made for him. He has never been given the privilege of a choice, and he has been told that that is love. It makes sense that he replicates that with the one person he loves more than anyone else. He is making decisions for Simon because he has learned by example that love is protecting people even when they don't understand what they are being protected from, even when they don't want protection.

Wilhelm also has a history of projecting his feelings onto people. Constantly. We've seen it since season one. The first example that comes to mind is when he tells Simon that dealing is "so fucking low" when he is the one in the middle of a potential drug scandal. So it makes sense that Wilhelm continues to project his own feelings and insecurities onto people throughout this season. We see it in season two when he does whatever that was with Felice. We see it in season three with the Erik stuff.

Wilhelm has committed at this point. He came out, he is out, and he's with Simon. So, to him, pushing it in everyone's face at school, not having to hide, is exactly what he and Simon wanted. But then he has this other side where he needs to control how everything is working within the royal family/court, so he needs to have Simon under control. He doesn't take a second to think about how Simon has his own opinions because he's acting impulsively almost all of the time.

You mention how Wilhelm seems to always turn to sex or making out, and yeah it's because he's a teenager, but it's also because physical touch is his love language. He's using it to make up with Simon, sure, but he's also using it to just show Simon "hey, I love you, and I know we're in a rough spot, but I still love you."

So to me, this all tracks.

Impulsive? Check. Projecting? Check. Not asking for input on things he should have input on? CHECK.

True to character.

[billskeis]

hi can you do Tom smut where he is dating reader and she likes reading and he just like tells her to read for him while he is fucking her and she just like struggles to talk and he is just kinda chuckling and listening to her

˖ ࣪ ⟢ tom’s personal bookworm

lol haha hi so imagine tom kaulitz, considered the sexiest guitarist in germany right now as tokio hotel rises up to the top as rockstars with a bookworm reader. never really goes to their concerts because she enjoys her alone time but however will support from the other side of the screen as their concerts are constantly being streamed.

you were never the type to be upset about not being able to spend actual time with tom knowing his packed schedule, understanding and content with just being able to see him from afar.

reader loves book. and i mean, LOVES books. her whole room is filled with them. her parents were concerned for her every passing day because all she did was spend her allowance on books. not that they’re complaining because at the end of the day she was smart, humble, quiet. never really got herself into trouble since she would spend most of her days reading.

they’ve always wondered how she got a boyfriend that’s the total opposite of her.. mr popular who has thousands of girls just waiting for him to court them, is dating a nerdy nobody who only spends her free time reading? i guess you can say opposites really do attract.

tom now has been making more frequent visits to his girlfriend’s humble abode to catch her often stuck in a book that she’s been raving about the day before. rambling on how exciting it is to be able to start a fresh new book after just finishing one. it could only really take her a day to finish a thick novel that she had just purchased long ago, head in the clouds of true crime, thriller and fantasy. tom wishes his girlfriend would pay more attention to him now that he’s off tour and can finally spend time with her. ohoh, he’s jealous. jealous of a fucking book, or books, lol.

and all of a sudden, the new books that you have recently bought have been collecting dust, stuck on the same book for a week now.

tom had asked you to read out the dialogue between the main protagonist and the villain, sliding himself inside of you as he slowly fucks your soaking walls sitting on the ottoman stood at the end of your bed. “oh fuck, you’re tight.. ‘s been a while huh schatzi?” a firm grip on your ass as he holds your body upright, sitting in his lap as you hold a book in-front of you like a teacher standing at a podium. “t-tom, i can’t concentrate like this.”

“c’mon, read to me baby.” moving your hips up and down his length, slowly and agonizing, your cunt feels every inch and vein of his cock, the stretch just right as he presses kisses to your cervix with his tip.

you huffed in defeat, biting your lip before speaking, “a-and so.. you e-either—mmgh.. surrender to me or, o-or.. ah!” yelping as the curve of his dick presses against your velvety walls in a new angle, pleasure shooting through your body as legs threaten to shake. tom can only laugh at you, a throaty groan while he continues to move your body at a rhythm that satiates the both of you. he indulges in controlling how you ride him, a soft and pliable body made for him to fuck and distract her from what she loves the second most, him coming in first after all.

you hold onto your book for dear life, stuttering words as they struggle to fall off your lips, drool coming out more instead as you grind your hips on tom.

he silently watches you, watches how you fail to get a complete sentence out without choking on a moan or a whimper, chuckling as he is completely enamoured with your being. how pretty you are in his lap riding his cock as you attempt to fill out his request of storytelling one of your current reads.

but he listens. he listens as you break it down to him on how the superhero and the villain instead come to redeem themselves as lovers rather than enemies. and it’s quite sweet, isn’t it? how people on the opposite sides of the universe can just come together as one, quite ironic if you ask me. but he absolutely adores the way you read to him, even if it involves shoving his cock into your cunt, over, and over again.

as a hand holds your waist, he uses his other hand to rub your clit in front of him, your body jolts from the overstimulation as you leak onto his pelvic moan, juices spilling to seep onto the suede chair.

feeling overwhelmed, your book almost slips from your grasp as you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, complaining that it’s ‘too much’ and you ‘can’t take it,’ but he doesn’t listen, he can only press a kiss to your cheek and tell you “you’re doing good baby, just a few more pages mkay?” his hands massaging your waist as he bounces you on his cock. you swallow your words instead, incapable to recite the dialogue as you cried out in pleasure.

with a smirk plastered on his lips, tom takes the book from your hand and throws it to the bed behind you, he can’t risk in damaging your goods now! your struggle for speech was quickly replaced with the creak of the ottoman inside your bedroom, your back arching as your chest is now flush to tom’s clinging onto the body that bullies you as eyes roll back.

your head rests on tom as tears roll off your face and tongue lolls out onto his shoulder, you babble ‘sorries’ to tom, as you now realized that despite his time off, you prioritized the books you read 24/7 over your own boyfriend.

“s’okay.. i can—ugh, have my smart girlfriend all t’myself now, yea?”

so i didn’t proofread this lol >_<

anyways , i’m off to disappear for another couple days (maybe)

[heesdreamer]

ECHOES OF RIOT

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ falling inlove with a rockstar is never easy, especially when he returns to your hometown on a successful tour three years after you lost contact

WARNINGS ➩ this is like straight up angst… romance but mostly angst lol.. drug use, some violence, idk can’t really remember this is ridiculously long

WC ➩ 19.1k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ well this took me forever lol.. i don’t have much to say i just hope you like it. NOT PROOFREAD normally written at 4am lol the usual.. also side note one of the main characters was chaeyoung and i changed her to heejin for obvious reasons so if you see any of her name left over that’s my mistake and that’s why.

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up like you did, so meek and quiet to the point that it was an actual hinderance on your daily activities.

If you were born like that, just one of those kids that was too shy to talk to their classmates and hid behind their moms legs on the first day of school, you’d completely understand but you’d actually been nearly the opposite for your entire life.

Maybe it was an accumulation of always feeling like you were taking up too much space, being on the receiving end of quick glares from teachers when you lacked volume control or seeing the hesitance on your friends parents faces when they excitedly asked if you could come over for a sleepover. Mixed with your own sudden self awareness going into high school.

You quickly realized that it wasn’t the loud girls getting asked out on dates and it was an almost immediately decline into self intrusion once you made this discovery.

It wasn’t like you necessarily wanted to be asked out by anybody, physically recoiling as your friends gossiped about the mass appointed hottest guys at your school and turning up your nose when they made sleazy attempts to flirt and court the other girls around you, but it felt embarrassing to be constantly left out of romantic group hangouts or discussions about experiences you’d never had.

Still, you had managed to keep a solid group of friends despite your newfound habit of self isolating and they only halfway judged you for your tendency to stay in on the weekends.

On the other half however, they weren’t so forgiving, hence why you were currently stood outside a low scale concert venue shivering so hard you were worried you’d chip a tooth. You were pulling your zip up hoodie tighter around your body and sending glares to your friends who were chatting animatedly about the band they were going to see.

Apparently it was composed of some boys around your age, not attending your school but well known enough that they had been invited to some of your friends parties and events and eventually your friend group had been given tickets to one of their shows.

You weren’t the biggest fan of crowds in general but especially concert goers and you’d been promised that this one would be chill and relaxing, something you automatically knew was a lie the second you left the cab and saw the attire of everybody around you. The line was buzzing with energy and adrenaline and you could hear the acts doing soundcheck from inside, music loud and heavy.

It was freezing and as much as you were dreading being pushed into a crowd with jabbing elbows and sweat rolling off their skin onto yours, you were ready to get out of the line as more and more snow kept falling down onto the uncaring crowd.

“Aren’t you excited?” Your head was turning at the sound of a soft voice coming from your right and you smiled softly at one of your calmer friends.

“Sure Sunoo. It’ll be fun.” You were replying quickly, not needing them to feel awkward or guilty about bringing you just because you didn’t necessarily want to come. You figured he could tell you were lying by the pity filled look he gave you but he didn’t call you out for it.

He didn’t say anything else for a second and he didn’t get a chance before the doors were opening and the line was surging forward, already getting your tickets checked while you waited and turning into a blob of people and excitement all trying to squeeze into the single door.

You were groaning softly at the feeling of being jostled around but you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact all of your friends were linking arms and declaring to stay together, slightly envious of the pure delight on their faces whilst your heart was starting to ache from the anxious way it was pounding. You let yourself be dragged through the crowd by them, closing your eyes for a second when you pushed through the tightest areas and just allowing them to guide you through it.

The venue was more so just a bar with a small stage but your friends had told you that these were the best types of places to see a show at, intimate and ear shattering loud.

They’d said the last half with an enthusiastic giggle but you had winced softly at the image of how close you’d be to the large speakers that you now saw adorning the stage. It was dark in the building and your shoes were sticking to the floor beneath you, lights turned a deep glowing green and something more casual playing over the speakers to fill the silence.

You’d followed behind them as they found a spot near the bar, safely tucked away from the crowd and planning to wait out the opening acts here to preserve their energy. They all agreed to push into the crowd once the main band came out and try to get as close as they possibly could, looking over at you for acceptance and all smiling and patting your back when you gave a sheepish nod.

It wasn’t that bad and you were quickly getting used to it, the thick cloud of cigarette smoke settling over you and only making you slightly dizzy now.

You felt a bit embarrassed and out of place but everybody else was too excited or drunk to notice that you weren’t exactly in the most appropriate attire. Sunoo had shot you a questioning glance when you’d gotten into the shared cab but you only just now realized you weren’t fitting in with the rest of the crowd or your friends even slightly.

The difference between you and them was even more evident when the owner of the bar was stepping onto stage and excitedly announcing the first artists, all your friends cheering and holding onto each other while you sat and watched from one of the bar stools.

You were still able to have fun as you watched them, smiling softly at the way they kept instinctively moving forward together as the music started and they screamed the lyrics. You didn’t recognize the songs that the band was covering but you knew enough about music to tell it sounded amazing, watching them closely as they skillfully played off of each other and got the crowd properly amped up.

You’d never really understood the purpose behind opening acts but you were getting it now considering you were feeling more and more excited for the main band as you kept watching.

Then more time had passed and the crowd had entered that stage of being too excited and too intoxicated to really understand boundaries and limits, a few fights breaking out that your friends didn’t bat an eye at but you were starting to feel a really deep pit building in your stomach.

It only worsened when somebody was hurriedly, and messily, approaching the bar and demanding another drink as he anxiously looked behind him at where you presumed his spot in the crowd was. You were watching him out of the corner of your eye as he ordered, feeling him swaying drunkenly closer to you and wanting to make sure he didn’t accidentally tip over and knock you out of your seat.

Your intuition was astoundingly accurate considering it wasn’t long before somebody else was approaching the man and leaning into his side, sending the both of them tilting over in your direction.

You’d just managed to hop off the bar seat before they were slamming into it but with the speed in which you’d jumped off combined with the sticky floor underneath you, you were skidding forward and landing roughly on your side against the ground.

Neither man seemed coherent enough to notice you had fallen from the height and you could hear them drunkenly laughing with each other from above you. Your friends hadn’t noticed the altercation either and you quickly frowned at the nasty sensation under your hands before you were standing up and swiftly adjusting your skirt.

You were rushing back out towards the entrance before anybody could notice your disappearance, pushing back through the door and immediately being hit by the cold air as the snow continued to build up on the ground. You were sighing and bending down to pick some of it off the sidewalk, rubbing it in your hands and trying to clean them off the best you could with the wetness.

“You’re going to miss the main act.”

You were jumping at the sound of a voice coming from behind you, standing up swiftly and turning around to see somebody leaning against the building and taking a long drag from whatever it was that he was smoking.

“Oh.. yeah I know I just.. had something on my hands.” You were mumbling out towards him and indicating awkwardly at the snow in your hands, realizing how weird it must’ve looked from his angle.

He was laughing softly at your explanation and your face flushed in embarrassment again for the sixth time that night, taking in his attire and knowing he’d be able to tell right away that you weren’t exactly supposed to be here. He was tall, would be even taller if he was standing up straight and it was especially accentuated by the tight fit of his ripped black jeans. You couldn’t see his face super clearly from where he was stood underneath the shaky lights but his hair was messy and in his eyes and you thought you saw a piercing or two shining on his face.

“Who dragged you here?” He was suddenly asking and you froze up again as you looked at him, eyes darting down to his feet for a second nervously.

“My friends got tickets and I couldn’t get out of it.” You were telling him softly and shrugging a bit. A car was driving past on the empty road and you waited for the sounds of the snow crunching under its tires to quiet before you finished. “From the band actually.”

You look back at him just in time to see his eyebrows lift in surprise and then settle into recognition, your own shifting forward in furrowed confusion. The boy was taking a step off the wall then and flicking his cigarette somewhere off near the road, your eyes following the still burning ember as it flew through the air before circling back to him.

“I’ll see you inside then.” His tone was one of a statement and not a question but you were still slightly confused despite the fact you habitually nodded at him.

You let out a big sigh once he was leaving finally, weirdly going through the alley towards what you could only assume was a side entrance and not the door right next to him. It quickly slipped your mind and you decided to wait for the previous act to finish up before you also headed back in.

You crouched back down closer to the snow and continued to try and clean off your hands and parts of your sleeves that had gotten stained from whatever substances were on the floor. The cold was sending waves of shivers through you but you simply ignored the uncomfortable feeling, especially since you figured you’d warm up quickly once you headed back inside.

Eventually you could hear the second opening act thanking the crowd for their intense energy before the familiar voice of the bar owner was back, this time more excited as he announced that the main band was finally coming out on to the stage.

You sighed softly again to yourself before stomping the slush off your boots and heading back through the door, once again being hit by the tight atmosphere that was a lot more sweaty than when you had first walked in and was now practically buzzing with adrenaline.

It was harder than you had planned for to get back to your seat and you almost gave up and just resided to the back of the building but once the band members were finally on stage the crowd surged forward, a gap in the mass of people slightly opened up and you were hurrying through it back towards where your friends had been. They were gone now but you had expected that, knowing they must likely went closer to the stage.

You were just barely settling back into an empty stool when the band was coming out on stage and you frowned when you realized you could barely see them, sitting up slightly and freezing up when you got a better view.

One of the boys was standing center stage and speaking into the mic, presumably introducing them to the crowd who was cheering the loudest they had all night, but your gaze was drifting a few feet to his right to where one of the guitarist was standing.

You immediately recognized him as the boy from outside, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you remembered how you had been less than enthusiastic about coming and had told him the band invited you and your friends. His surprised expression was making sense to you now and you would’ve turned to face palm if you weren’t stuck staring at him.

He was scanning the crowd for a few seconds and your eyes widened a touch when he was looking in your direction, stopping his wandering gaze as a soft smirk started to build up on his lips.

You were glancing around you to see if there was anything else he could be looking at and then feeling your face heat up alarmingly fast when you realized there wasn’t and he definitely recognized you from your awkward encounter outside.

Then they were starting to play and you were frozen for other reasons, your eyes locked on him and his frame as he started to open the song slow and soft. It wasn’t the type of music you had expected from them just based off of appearance and you were completely transfixed by the way they skillfully moved with their respective instruments, the boys behind the mics voice coming through now.

The crowd was swaying along with the gentle music, calming down into a low buzz like they were being completely controlled by the bands sound and energy.

You sat frozen like that for the entirety of the first song, mouth slightly parted in surprise and watching the boy you’d seen outside as he continued to play. You didn’t know much about guitars but you could tell he was good, his louder than the others and ringing out clear even underneath the distorted vocals.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore because he wasn’t looking at anything at all, leaning back and keeping his eyes shut as he played them through the final half of the first song. He was rocking along with his strums and he seemed just as into it and transfixed as the rest of the building was.

The first song slowed to a stop and you heard the vocalist laugh softly into the mic before he was glancing behind him towards where the drummer was sitting. You watched them curiously as they nodded at eachother in silent communication, amazed at how casual and relaxed they seemed to be in front of all of these people.

“Obviously we know what you’re all here for.” The lead vocalist was speaking into the mic with a small smile and the two guitarist start to build up the intro of the next song. “Watch your elbows and try not to knock anyone out.”

He was laughing as he finished his lighthearted warning but you watched as the crowd surged with excitement and started to move around, coming to life in sync like they were all the same creature and you felt a bit sick at how tight and moving it was quickly becoming. He was starting to sing again in a lower tone and even though the song was still bordering on calm, you could feel it building up along with the energy in the room.

It was closer to what you had expected their music to sound like and although it wasn’t necessarily something you’d keep on during your downtime, you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the way the entire crowd reacted to the explosive chorus.

The drummers voice was rasping underneath the main vocalist now and you quickly understand their previous communication, a smile building on your face as you watched the guitarist from outside staring at them with an unfiltered excitement.

They played more songs and you continued to sit and watch them unmoving, your eyes mostly transfixed on the boy with the guitar until the end of their set. You’d never seen somebody play the way he did and you almost felt like you had no choice but to watch him considering how captivating he looked on stage. Eventually they were shouting their goodbyes towards the crowd and accepting thrown gifts and hands reaching out for contact, all except for the guitarist considering he was just watching and smiling at the crowd for a distance.

You were still watching them as they left the stage and disappeared back into the restricted part of the building, not even noticing when your friends were excitedly bounding back over to you.

“That was fucking awesome.” Heejin was wrapping her arm around your shoulder and shaking you enthusiastically, sweat lining her dyed hair now and making her tattoos glisten under the now red lighting.

“Jungwon somehow sounds 100 times better in person.” You turned your head to see Sunoo coming to sit next to you with an impressed look on his face, shaking his head in disbelief and still watching the empty stage like you were a few moments ago. “Plus I didn’t know Jake could sing like that.”

“He sang at that school event remember? Before Jay got him into drumming.” Riki was quickly explaining and taking a swig of a water bottle he was carrying, still slightly out of breath from the tight and hot crowd.

You watched them talk animatedly about the show with a soft smile and fondness, you were glad they had fun even if you were originally hesitant to come out with them. It had been better than you’d expected and you still felt a little rush of excitement under your skin when you thought about how loud and beautiful the music had been. You’d completely forgotten about falling on the floor or any mishap.

“Are you ready to go then? We don’t want to keep them waiting, they’re probably super tired.” Joonie was turning to smile at you and await your response but her grin faltered when she saw the heavy look of confusion gracing your features. “You didn’t ask her?”

She was moving her head to give an accusatory stare towards the others and Sunoo winced softly at the harshness in her glare. Riki was sighing and scratching the back of his neck before answering. “We figured we’d ask her after she saw them… maybe she’d be more inclined to say yes.”

“Say yes to what?” You were quickly butting in, slightly frustrated that they were talking around you like you weren’t sat right there watching the entire thing.

“The band wanted us to come over to their place after the show.” Heejin was answering hesitantly, watching you with an expectant look like she was already prepared for you to shut them down.

You can’t deny that the thought immediately crossed your mind, beyond used to rejecting hangouts instinctively especially ones that were so small and intimate with people you didn’t know.

Then you were thinking about the way they had performed and how you had felt seeing them have so much fun on the stage, like they never cared about taking up too much space and they certainly weren’t concerned with ever being too loud. You were pausing for a few seconds to think about it even though you already felt like your mind had been made up, meeting your friends waiting stares and giving them a soft nod of approval.

——

You had quickly come to regret your accepting nod on your way to meet up with the boys, packed into a cab with your friends who still vaguely smelled like the inside of the venue and conjoined sweat.

They still seemed excited so you were trying your best to not be a visible mood killer but you were getting more and more anxious the closer you got to where you’d be meeting, not even exactly sure what type of environment you were going into.

It got even worse when the cab was pulling to a stop in front of a house tucked neatly in a lower class suburban area, the dread of having to make small talk in such an intimate setting like one the boys house was making your stomach turn with nausea. You sucked it up and followed behind your friends with held breath, listening as the door opened and they excitedly greeted whoever it was that was behind it.

You eventually filed through and when it was your turn to pass through the doorway, you realized it was Jake who had opened it.

You recognized him from school events like Riki had mentioned before, not attending yours but a few times a year the neighboring schools held community shows and events to bring the area closer together and scout for grants and sponsorships. You distinctly remember Jake sitting on the stage a few years back, looking beyond nervous as he softly strung his acoustic guitar and sang a song that had slipped your memory by now.

It was a striking opposition to what you’d seen him do tonight, both the fact he had been singing so hard his voice was scratching underneath Jungwon’s softer tone and the way he was slamming down on the drums so hard you had been worried he’d break something.

He had a certain buzzing energy to him that helped this make sense, watching him now as he excitedly bounced around your friends like a loose dog as he guided them towards another doorway. You figured he was more full of bottled up excitement over any actual aggressiveness and you continued to silently follow behind them.

You were a bit surprised to be led down to a small finished basement, carefully walking down the carpeted steps and feeling weirdly like you’d been transported back to your own home with how familiar the area looked.

There was a small red light connected to the door with tape and you imagined it was to signal that some sort of recording was going on, a small smile playing up on your face at the irony of the devoted after band having such a simple setup. The smile was immediately slipping off when you were hearing your friends start up rounds of greeting again and you paled with nerves.

“That’s Y/N, she doesn’t talk much.” Riki was quickly saying and you were half grateful he had saved you from awkwardly stuttering out your name and half furious as all sets of eyes turned to look in your direction.

You recognized the lead singer first, looking a lot less intimidating now that he was sitting on the sofa in more comfortable clothes and letting his purple mullet air dry from what you could only assume was a post show shower. You knew his name was Jungwon just from hearing your friends rambles and you filled in the blanks for the rest of the names.

Jay was almost more intimidating off stage than he was on it, losing that playful and excited energy that being in front of a crowd brought and falling into an almost scary silence. If it wasn’t for the gentle way he was picking at an acoustic guitar, a stark difference to the black and shining electric one you’d seen him with on stage.

Your eyes were drifting over to the final person in the room who was busy chatting with Heejin and staring excitedly at her newest tattoos, his hands hovering over her skin but not touching directly like an excited child. Sunoo had told you on the way here that Sunghoon played bass and whilst you weren’t exactly sure what that meant, he seemed the most approachable out of the group.

Minus the member you’d already accidentally approached but he was missing from the current area and you felt a wave of relief rushing through you considering how embarrassed you’d felt seeing him on stage.

You almost fell into autopilot and you listened to the two groups mix and talk casually like they were lifelong friends, an overwhelming feeling of envy sitting in your stomach considering the fact they were so easily able to hold conversation with each other whilst you struggled to even introduce yourself.

Jay had gotten up to put on a record at some point and that made you feel slightly more at ease considering there was no more room for awkward silence, something a lot calmer than what they’d played earlier ringing through the room as they all lounged in different places and started to smoke amongst each other.

Your friends didn’t bother offering any to you considering you had a tendency to say no, not necessarily against smoking or being high but the intimacy of sharing a blunt mixed with the performance anxiety as it was passed around the circle almost on instinct. The other boys must’ve gotten the hint without it needing to be said and they also didn’t try to get you to smoke, leaving you relieved that they weren’t the types to poke fun at you or try to pressure you into it.

It was a lot easier for you to just watch them and get a small contact high, sinking down into your spot on the couch more and relaxing as they started to lose focus and definitely lose the ability to care if you were being awkward.

You were pressed against the side of the sofa even though nobody was sat directly near you, still trying to ensure you were taking up as little space on the furniture as possible in case somebody else wanted to sit or you were simply just in the way. You were grateful you’d developed this habit considering the door to the basement was opening again and you froze up as the light shone in from the top of the stairs.

“Finally, the chosen one has arrived.” Jake was yelling excitedly from somewhere you couldn’t see, laying flat on the carpet behind the round ottoman and you could only barely catch a glimpse of his arms being thrown up in mock praise.

You were staring at the stairs as the boot covered feet started to descend down and you knew who it was before he even reached the point where you could see his upper half, freezing even more at the way his eyes scanned over the unfamiliar faces in the basement before pausing on you.

You awkwardly pulled your sleeves over your hands and glanced back over at Sunoo was sitting in the chair closest to you and the couch, talking to Sunghoon about something you couldn’t quite make it out considering anxiety was fully building up now and you were slightly disoriented from the overstimulation in the room.

Much to your dismay and attempts to stop yourself, your eyes were drifting back over to the boy and you almost groaned when you realized he was still watching you.

Heeseung had, according to Joonie on the way here, been the one to originally start up the band and convince the others to take it as seriously as he did. He was the lead guitarist first and foremost but he dabbled in almost everything, including producing all of their original songs and covers and apparently forfeiting his basement as their studio considering the younger photos of him scattered around the walls.

His baby pink hair was in his face even more now than it had been when you’d saw him smoking outside, littered with random blonde patches that told you he had done it himself, and now you were positive he had multiple piercings throughout his face.

It was only getting worse for you when he was making his way over to the couch and taking the empty middle seat, directly next to you.

You were sat with your feet up on the fabric and hugging your knees close to your chest but you imagined if you’d been sat normally then your thighs would be press against his that had lost the tight ripped jeans and were now sporting some more casual black sweatpants.

“You want this Hee?” Sunghoon was saying from where he was sat on the floor besides Sunoo on the chair.

You glanced over to the boy just in time to see him shake his head in denial and a wave of surprise and relief washed over you, grateful you wouldn’t be the only one not smoking anymore. “You don’t smoke?” Riki was asking and Heeseung seemed to instinctively shake his head no.

Jay snorted out a half laugh half scoff and you watched the pink haired boy shoot him a sharp glare before his eyes were drifting over to you, almost like he was checking your reaction. Your eyebrows were furrowed forward in confusion, wondering why he was lying about smoking, he must’ve forgotten the fact you’d seen him outside with a cigarette only a few hours before.

Everybody fell back into their own individual conversations again and you started to relax finally, listening to the music playing softly in the smoke filled room.

“So did you end up liking it then?” Heeseung’s voice was coming from beside you and you looked over towards him with widened eyes, not expecting him to directly address you.

“W-what?” You were stuttering out and then immediately flushing in embarrassment when a concerned look passed over his intimidating face. He seemed nice enough but your closed mind couldn’t look past the piercings and the eyeliner still staining around his large eyes.

“The show.” He was quickly explaining, looking slightly embarrassed himself that you hadn’t understood what he was talking about. “You didn’t seem too excited when you were outside.”

You froze up in your spot considering he was directly referencing the conversation you’d had outside, in which you had told him begrudgingly and in complaint that you hadn’t been able to get out of going to the show that he was performing at. You didn’t respond for a few seconds and you were grateful that everybody was too stoned to keep up with your awkward conversation.

“It was… you guys were very..” You trailed off when you saw the expectant look on his face and you cleared your throat a bit, eyes darting down to the double piercings going through the thin skin of his lips and then back up to his eyes. “It was cool.”

“Just cool?” His lip was curling softly up into a half smirk at your extremely vague answer, shifting in his place on the couch so he was facing you better and you tried not to be extremely weird about the fact his arm was resting on the back of the sofa now and therefore his hand was dangling on the other side of your shoulders.

“Super cool?” You offered in a squeaky voice, wincing as your shoulders curled in on themselves.

He laughed softly at your answer and you were relieved that he found it somewhat funny and wasn’t totally offended that you didn’t have a string of compliments prepared for him. You did like the show much more than you thought you would and if you were able to get ahold of yourself, you would’ve told him how impressed you were as you watched him play.

But you weren’t that lucky and you knew you’d be stuck giving him half true statements that didn’t actually show how you truly felt about the set, turning your head back to face forward so you didn’t have to look at his face anymore.

You weren’t exactly sure why he had come to talk to you out of everybody in the room, knowing he was obviously a lot closer to his band mates and had even hung out with your male friends a few times from your knowledge in group settings. Joonie had told you that she thought the two of you were a bit similar considering he was also rarely at social events but you highly doubted the comparison considering the way he looked performing in front of an adoring and expectant crowd.

Still, you thought about the way he hung back at the end of the final song instead of interacting with the fans like the other members had and the fact you hadn’t been surprised when he wasn’t present in the basement at first.

“Are you two actually talking to each other or just sitting in weirdo silence?” Your head was picking back up to look over at Heejin who was sitting on the other side of the couch, next to Heeseung but leaning far enough away towards Jake and Jungwon that they didn’t touch at all.

You didn’t need to look at her to know who she was referring to but your stomach dropped a little when you met her gaze and confirmed she was referring to you, the others in the room also looking over considering her statement.

Heejin was in no way mean to you and she was actually your longest friend out of the group, knowing her since middle school which meant she was around to watch your social decline. She made jokes sometimes or pushed you too far out of your comfort zone but you always took it as her way of trying to help you loosen up like she knew you could, always stopping whenever you got visibly too overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

You weren’t sure if it was the presence of people she admired or the buzz of a high settling over her that caused her to make the comment but it clearly crossed a line the two of you had silently established throughout the years, your face dropping at the unwanted attention.

“Heeseung is the master of weirdo silence.” Jake was adding on from the floor again and you could hear him giggling nonsensically, sitting up so you could see his head past the ottoman and frown at him.

“Yeah well I’d rather talk to..” Heeseung was starting harshly before trailing off and glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. You paused for a few seconds and stared at him in confusion but realizing he was waiting for you to tell him your name, quickly whispering it to him and trying to ignore the small smile he gave you before turning back to look at the others. “I’d rather talk to Y/N than you deadbeats.”

The boys in the room were breaking out into small fits of laughters and instigating choruses of “Oo’s”. Fanning their hands out like they’d been burned and only settling down when Heeseung was rolling his eyes and sinking further into the couch.

Luckily they all seemed to let it go after that even though you were still left with a deeper pit in your stomach because of Heejin’s random dig at both you and Heeseung, roping him in to your anti social behavior and giving his own friends the opportunity to pile on top of it.

You were glancing over at him again from the corner of your eye, hesitantly shifting to try and catch his attention again. His gaze was snapping back to your face when you moved slightly and his eyebrows raised in question again, a lot softer than they had been when he was asking for your name and snapping back at your friends. You watched the way the metal balls surrounding his eyebrow stretched with the movement before licking your dry lips and speaking.

“Thanks.” The word slipped from your lips in a small breath and once again you felt disappointed that it was all you had managed to say, wishing you were able to express your gratitude to him more.

He didn’t seem to mind and his shoulders were lifting in a small shoulder, watching you curiously. “It’s no big deal. I don’t talk much either.”

“Even though you do all… that?” You were asking before you even processed the question falling from your lips and he looked equally surprised as you that you were continuing the conversation without needing prompting.

“Like perform?” His voice was lower now as you started to talk more and you had a feeling he didn’t want the others to listen in and find a way to intervene again. You gave him a soft nod, grateful he had understood your vague wording. “It’s different, I don’t really think of it like that. Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m there in front of all those people.”

If you’d heard him say that last week or even this morning, you would’ve not fully understood what exactly he was trying to explain to you. Even now you were still a bit confused on what exactly the feeling was like but you immediately understood what he was referring to, remembering the way he was closing his eyes and leaning with the music like he was in his own world.

You must’ve fallen silent for too long as you were thinking about it and what that could possibly be like, how it would feel to live a life with that sort of overwhelming passion, because he was clearing his throat and shifting again.

“It’s like… well what do you do?” He was starting to try and find an analogy, assuming you didn’t understand and you froze up at the direct question.

“What do I do?” You were repeating back to him for clarification and he nodded earnestly, waiting to hear your answer. “I don’t think I really do anything.”

He seemed taken back by that and you were slightly embarrassed that you’d failed to answer his question properly. You’d thought about it before, being at the age where you should have something you were passionate about or a hobby that motivated you in some way.

You never really did much of anything on your own and you’d yet to find anything that gave you that sort of spark he’d be referring to, the type of spark that would cause you to do what you loved even if it meant pushing yourself past your limits or standing on a stage like you were born for it.

“What are you doing this weekend?” He was suddenly rushing out and your eyes widened in surprise again at the fact his voice had come out much louder now, like he’d forced himself to say it. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and then you were shaking your head to signal that you weren’t doing anything set in stone. “Come to our next show.”

“To your show?” You were repeating in bewilderment and he was nodding his head quickly as he scanned over your face hesitantly, wondering if you were going to reject him. Eventually you were biting the inside of your cheek after contemplating for a while and glancing at him. “O-okay.. yeah sure.”

——

“Y/N, the phone for you.” Your mothers screaming voice was floating up the stairs and you groaned softly into your pillow, laying on your stomach and overthinking the events of the previous weekend like you had been for days.

It was pretty uneventful after your conversation with Heeseung, both falling into a silence or offering small laughs and quick glances as you listened to your friends talk and get to know each other better. He must’ve been telling the truth about not talking much because nobody looked over at him once expectantly although you noticed his band mates keeping an eye on the two of you occasionally.

Eventually you and your friends had left the basement and the pink haired boy had spared you a quick wave through the window as the taxi pulled off.

You’d listened to your friends excitedly talk the entire way back to your neighbors and pry you for details about what you’d been talking about with him, not noticing the bitter expression on your face when you noticed how surprised they seemed that he’d chosen to speak to you.

Now it was Thursday and you were thinking about it all again, replaying it over and over and finding something new to be embarrassed about each time you did. Heeseung was surprisingly soft spoken and slightly awkward considering his appearance but you knew it held no parallel to how terrible you were at socializing.

“Y/N.” Your mom was screaming again and this time you rolled over as you groaned, letting it fill the room before you were getting off your bed and heading down the stairs.

Your mom was standing there with the phone in her hand, watching you with an excited expression and your face was pulling forward in confusion as your steps hesitantly slowed to a stop. “It’s a boy.” She was whispering and pointing at the phone with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

You were snatching the phone away from her and walking around the corner into the hallways, stretching the chord as far as it could possibly go and waving a dismissive hand at your mom when she was poking her around the corner in curiosity.

“Hello?” You were breathing into the phone and it was a heavy silence for a few seconds before you could hear somebody clearing their throat on the other side.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Heeseung.” He was announcing and you froze up at the sound of his soft voice coming through your speaker, clutching the phone tighter in your hand and shifting it against your ear. “Um.. like the guitar guy.”

You were laughing softly at the fact he felt the need to specify, most likely growing nervous from your extended silence. “I know who you are Heeseung.”

“Cool… yeah cool.” He was breathing back and letting out his own nervous laugh, a small smile building on your face at how awkward he seemed now. You liked how different he was in each setting, confident and sensual on stage and casual and calm when surrounded by his friends in a familiar area. Now you were seeing what he was like on his own, mirroring a personality similar to yours.

“D-did you need something?” You tried to keep your tone light so he didn’t think you were bothered by the fact he had called despite your confusion over how he’d gotten your number or what exactly he wanted.

Your heart was racing slightly as you listened to him inhale over the phone, feeling a bit ridiculous over your own reactions but you couldn’t help but think about his soft pink hair and the piercings your mom would definitely disapprove of. She glared at Heejin’s bare skin every time she came over during the summer so you couldn’t imagine her reaction to seeing Heeseung’s group of friends.

“I was just calling to make sure you were still going to the show and Sunghoon said I should tell you to bring your friends.” He was explaining in a low tone and you could hear shushing in the background, your smile widening at the realization he was around some of his friends. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to convince Heejin to give him a tattoo but it would be safer anyways with more people.”

“Alright, yeah we’ll be there.” You were telling him back swiftly and you surprised yourself by how naturally it came out of your mouth, no stutter or hesitation.

“Cool.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said the word again, almost repeating it like he did the first time but seemingly catching himself before he did. “I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… yeah you will.”

——

“So he like directly invited you.” Riki was asking for the sixth time that night and you sighed softly when he was bumping his elbow into your arm with a smile on his face, clearly excited about the recent development in your life.

“Is it that surprising?” Your tone was stiff along with your posture, somehow once again finding yourself in a cold line outside of a random concert venue downtown.

“Not at all Y/N.” Sunoo was quickly interjecting once he realized you were taking offense to their over excitement, offering him a small tired smile due to his habit of trying to make you feel better. “We are just happy for you.”

You were about to remind him that there was no reason to be happy or excited and that you and Heeseung had just gotten along, nothing else, but you were interrupted by the staff who was checking tickets approaching your group. You watched as he took a look at Riki’s and then his school ID, promptly marking his hand with a solid black X before he was turning towards you expectantly.

He was looking at your ID with a bored expression but before he was able to hand it back to you and give you a similar marking, he paused and did a double take as he looked at the words. “Y/N? You’re on the list.”

“The list?” Your voice was soft in confusion and buried under the sound of your friends excited squeals and laughters, feeling Joonie’s hands come up to squeeze your shoulders and shake you softly.

You weren’t understanding what was happening until you were being moved forward, hearing Heejin clarify that you all were allowed early entry before she was smiling brightly and practically caring you with the rest of them as you entered the venue ahead of everybody else. You felt a flush come up to your cheeks when you realized that Heeseung had clearly mentioned you to the staff of the building and that’s why you were currently skipping the line and heading towards the back of the venue.

It was a different place than last time, bigger and seemingly more concert specific in comparison to the bar you were at last time.

The staff member was leading you down a hallway until you were stopped in front of a door with chipping paint, a piece of paper stuck to it with tape and the bands name in big sharpie letters. You smiled softly at their names all scribbled around the bold font, knowing they must’ve stuck it outside themselves as a mock dressing room.

You felt a wave of anxiety rush up with the employee was knocking on the door twice before turning to head back outside and control the growing crowd but you didn’t have any time to panic before it was being thrown open.

“You came.” Heeseung’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you in surprise and you were parting your lips to answer him before your friends were impatiently pushing into the room, practically shoving you forward into him.

He helped steady you when you made a small noise of surprise and you were glancing up at him in embarrassment, face undoubtedly red considering he was holding onto your arms even once your feet were flat on the ground. “You look…”

You felt overwhelming self conscious when his gaze was dropping down, scanning over your outfit and body before meeting your eyes again. You’d mistakenly let Heejin and Joonie dress you after they practically spent two hours begging, remembering how awkward you felt being improperly dressed last time.

It felt even worse to be in clothes you weren’t at all used to or comfortable with and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking just based off his expression.

“It looks really good.” He was breathing out finally and you felt a wave of relief at his statement, and then self judgment for caring what he thought in the first place. “Are you sure you’ll be comfortable though? I have a sweater you can wear.”

You froze up slightly as he continued to speak to you in a calm voice, somehow sensing your anxiety over the outfit despite only speaking to you a few times. You were half flattered that he cared enough to lend you some clothes and half humiliated that he could tell you didn’t normally wear things like this.

He must’ve seen outfits like this on hundreds of girls every time he had a show, knowing half the crowd would be dressed similarly to you but wearing it with a confidence and aura that you severely lacked. You didn’t have an overwhelming presence like Heejin or an alluring personality like Joonie and you’d always felt bland in comparison.

You were awkwardly glancing around the makeshift dressing room and pleased to see your friends and the band engaging in their own excited conversations and not paying you any mind.

Then your gaze was landing on one of the mirrors across the room and you were freezing up when you caught sight of you and Heeseung, still standing closer than you’d thought you were with his hands touching your arms. You almost didn’t recognize yourself for a second and despite how awful the clothes felt against your skin, you couldn’t deny that you looked good standing next to him and his similar aesthetic.

“I’ll be alright.” You were turning back to him to answer his question definitively and you tried to hold eye contact with him for a second, easier considering his hair was falling into his face again.

He was wearing eyeliner like he had been the first time you’d seen him outside the venue but it was a lot bolder and messier this time, making his eyes even bigger than they already were but completely changing his energy and appearance in comparison to the version of him you’d seen in his basement.

“Are you nervous?” You weren’t sure why that was the next thing you said to him but his eyes lit up when you whispered the question, staring up at him with wide eyes and saying it so softly he almost didn’t catch it underneath the loud crowd in the distance and your friends behind him.

“I’m excited.” He was responding back and you knew he meant it, no sign of apprehension or hesitation on his face.

You’d never seen somebody look as intense as Heeseung did when he talked about performing, his entire demeanor changing from the awkward boy who you’d been speaking to, almost seeming unsure of himself after every sentence. He didn’t even seem to think at all when he spoke about music or being on stage and you watched him curiously as he rambled on about how it felt to be up there.

You figured he probably knew you wouldn’t ever be able to understand what he was talking about unless you did it yourself but you still felt giddy that he wanted to explain it to you.

He talked about it until another team member was poking his head in to let the boys know that soundcheck was about to start and then the doors would open, also being you and your friends queue to go and get spots in the front row.

“I’ll see you out there then?” He was smiling down at you and giving a gentle squeeze to your arm that he was still holding, your own breaking out on your face despite trying to withhold and you gave him a small nod of approval before he was disappearing out the door after the others.

Your friends were obviously excited for having caught the end of your interaction and although you rolled your eyes as they begun to tease you, you couldn’t rid yourself of the bright grin you were catching between your lips and you started to head back out into the hallway and towards where the crowd would be standing.

You felt okay for now but you were starting to get more and more anxious at the realization that soon the mass of people would surge inside towards you and you’d be stuck in your place against the barricade, white knuckling it as you contemplated heading to the back of the venue and watching from there instead so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself by having a panic attack right in front of the band.

“You know..” Heejin was leaning in against your side to whisper into your ear and you felt her hand squeezing your side affectionately. “Jake said that Heeseung’s never invited anybody to a show before.”

She was pulling away just in time to see your eyes widen in surprise, followed by your face flushing a bright red at the knowing look she was giving you. “Not even his family?”

You knew that the bands music wouldn’t necessarily be everybody’s personal taste, especially those of an older generation, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly confused that he wouldn’t ever ask anybody to come watch him perform. He was clearly proud of what he had created and more passionate than anyone you’d met before.

“It’s just him and his dad I guess.” She was shrugging softly and glancing up at the stage as she spoke. “Apparently he’s a huge hard ass about him doing music.”

Your face was falling into a small frown at what she was saying but you didn’t have a chance to respond before the lights were shutting off and immediately being replaced by the same red ones the other venue had put on for their set, hearing the sounds of the doors opening and feet swiftly approaching the stage.

Anxiety was immediately building up as you were getting more and more constricted in the crowd but you felt slightly better knowing your friends were around you, feeling Riki not so subtly shift his position so he was stood behind you and you weren’t going to be subject to any stranger pressing into your body.

You were going to turn and give him a grateful smile but you were cut off by the sounds of the crowd screaming louder than you’d ever heard, confused on what was causing it before you realized the boys were already coming out onto the stage.

They were only silhouettes at first without the spotlights turned on but you could tell it was Sunghoon who had ended up directly in front of you, glancing across the stage to see Heeseung on the other side beside Jungwon again like he had been the other weekend.

Then the lights were coming on, soft enough to keep the red glow but illuminating each member and their instruments. You smiled widely and couldn’t help the scream that leapt from your throat, joining in with your friends and the rest of the crowd as excitement started to fill you. You’d never been in a setting like this before and you were quickly understanding why it was so addicting.

You were already watching Heeseung from the moment he stepped on stage so you definitely didn’t miss the way his eyes were scanning the front section of the crowd, only settling once they passed by you before quickly backtracking as a smile curled up on his lips.

Jungwon was starting to speak into the mic and introduce them like you’d heard him do last week but you were preoccupied, watching the pink haired boy and giving him a small nod of acknowledgment with a soft smile.

Then the show was starting and you quickly realized that what you had seen last time was nothing in comparison to actually being in the crowd, an energy taking over you that you didn’t even know you possessed. You were dancing along with Heejin and gripping Sunoo’s arm in excitement as he screamed and sang along, all the while keeping your eyes on Heeseung.

He was almost like a completely different person on stage, more than just his energy considering the fact even his gaze was new to you. He was a lot more intimidating when he was staring down at you with hooded eyes, the eyeliner more smudge now and thankfully distracting you from the skillful way his fingers moved along the guitar strings.

It was hard not to think about him to the level you’d been trying to deny when he was looking at you for almost the entirety of the show, seemingly checking on you when the crowd got particularly wild and at other times almost looking smug because of how transfixed you seemed. His lip would curl into a cocky smirk that you didn’t even think he could manage and you’d feel your heart thump alive in a way it never had before.

You spent the next few months following this exact routine with him.

Every week, in the middle of it or sometimes as early as the day after a show, he’d call your house and your mom would yell your name up the stairs. He’d softly invite you to the next show and you’d excitedly tell him that you’d be there, despite knowing he already knew the answer and you knowing he just liked to hear you say it.

Sometimes you’d take your friends with you but eventually you got comfortable enough to go by yourself, you’d be let in early with a small smile to the bouncers and you’d always ask him the same question before he got on stage.

“Are you nervous?” You’d say for the dozenth time even though you knew by now that he wasn’t but every single time his eyes would light up with that fire and passion that you’d been so sucked in by and he’d always repeat the same words back in the same tone.

“I’m excited.”

Heeseung liked it best when you came to his shows so you did it every weekend you were free, even when you’d get too overwhelmed and have to sit in the dressing room or behind the stage if it was available, he just liked knowing you were there to see him and he expressed it to you every single time.

You got closer over that time outside of watching him play too, taking longer to get over that awkwardness you both carried outside of the venues when the adrenaline died down but eventually you’d stopped hanging out solely within your respective groups and started to spend some time alone together.

He’d pick you up in his shitty run down car and your mom would glare at him from the living room window, watching his hair go from pink to blue then to a red that had taken you back a few steps with its brightness when you’d first seen it.

“That’s.. a strong choice.” You’d said after you buckled your seatbelt and you were reaching forward to run your hand through it before you even had a second to think about it.

“My dad hates the color red.” Was all he had responded with and you watched the side of his face as he smiled softly and put the car into drive.

Heeseung wasn’t the most stable person to be around at times but you eventually realized that you’d never felt as comfortable taking up space as you did when you were with him, an addicting feeling that you almost had no choice but to lean forward into and you were thankful that he was always around to catch you.

You’d sit in the basement with the boys as they practiced new songs and Jake had even attempted to teach you to play some songs on the guitar, going to him for help because it felt less intimidating than asking one of the actual guitar players.

It was somehow easy to mesh into their routines and hobbies despite how different you were than them and your most fun high school memories all featured your old friends and new ones hanging out together, all packed into booths at late night diners after a particularly good show or getting makeshift tattoos from Heejin in the familiar basement that you’d spent most of the year in by the time graduation rolled around.

Heeseung was a year older than you and already graduated before you’d met him but he’d made sure to attend and watch you and your friends walk, minus Riki who still had a year left.

You’d all rushed out of the ceremony hall and squished in his car so you could drive across town and watch the rest of his friends at their own school, cheering for them all in your different colored graduation gowns and ignoring the embarrassed look on Jungwon’s face when he gave his class president speech at the beginning.

There were a lot of highs but it all came with lows too and those took you longer to adjust to.

You weren’t exactly sure how to handle it when Heeseung would show up at your house late at night, sometimes bleeding from various places on his face or panting like he’d run all the way there. You’d quickly pull him inside and ignore your moms questioning shout asking who was at the door.

Eventually you had sat her down after dinner and told her that sometimes Heeseung had issues with his dad and he didn’t have anywhere else to go, which was a slight lie on your part but you knew it felt true to him considering he never considered any other options before heading in your direction even if it was across town and a lot less welcoming than one of his friends houses.

She never was a big fan of him, of any of your friends but especially him, despite the gentle way he always said hello to her upon entry and his countless attempts to get on her good side. You’d tried to explain to him that it wasn’t anything personal or anything he was doing wrong and it was just how your mother was but he seemed particularly upset about it despite normally not caring what people thought of him.

“It’s your mom, it’s different.” He was stressing his words to emphasize that it was because she was related to you that it mattered to him and you were furrowing your eyebrows and turning to look at him.

You were sat on your bed together, two months before it happened, and sharing a pair of headphones that was playing a scratchy demo of a song he’d been working on. You were popping the tape out of the device so it would stop abruptly as you sat up a little bit to be able to see his face better.

“Why do you say stuff like that?” You were asking him and he sighed softly like he always did when you begun to pry for answers regarding his behavior towards you.

Despite the way you felt around him and the fact you’d practically become inseparable in the summer following graduation, you’d never directly talked about what your relationship was or even crossed a line that would definitely give you an unspoken answer. Outside of some longing glances and hands resting a little too low on your back, you’d remained pretty platonic other than your own inner thoughts and emotions.

“Don’t know.” He was mumbling softly as he looked at you and you squinted your eyes at him in disbelief but eventually you sighed and shifted back so you were resting against your headboard again, shoulder pressed into his tightly.

When it finally happened, you pretty much assumed that your life was going to abruptly end.

The boys had been growing in popularity now that they were out of school and able to do music full time, still underaged but building enough connections with the local music scene and venues to be able to play more frequently and to older and grittier crowds.

Mixed with the rise of the internet and MTV music videos filled with long haired rockstars and half naked women, it didn’t take long for their talents to get noticed by a few different people who swore they were from the next big company and could guarantee to make Echoes of Riot each millionaires respectfully, offers that were all swiftly turned down by Heeseung (with the advice of Sunoo who had begun to fill a management like role within the group).

You’d never paid much mind to what stardom would mean for the boys despite believing to the deepest part of your heart that they deserved it and were more talented than most the people you heard over the radio. For some reason, some childish idiotic reason, you figured they’d spend the rest of your lives being teenagers playing in bars around your small hometown.

Then one night after a particularly long show, all the boys panting and sweaty as they headed back to their dressing rooms, a man had approached them similarly to the way others did almost nightly.

You knew right away that something was different this time and your friends did too, watching silently as the group stopped in their steps towards the back rooms and actually begun to pay attention to what the man was saying. Heeseung’s eyes were flickering up to yours and you raised your eyebrows at him from where you sat at the bar, shifting out of your seat when he beckoned you closer with a quick flick of his fingers.

The rest of your friends followed you and all of you made your way back to the rooms with the band and the man.

He didn’t seem at all bothered by the additional people in the room as he started to repeat his pitch behind closed doors and your heart started to clench nervously when you realized why he seemed so different.

Min Yoongi actually cared about the music quality and spreading a proper message through your work and performances, opening his monologue with descriptions of how he felt hearing and watching the videos Riki had been posting online of the group and you watched as his eyes twinkled with a passion you’d only ever seen before from the boy sitting next to you.

His hand was resting on your arm and draping over your shoulder on the couch but he couldn’t have been further away from you in that moment, holding onto every word Yoongi was saying and leaning forward occasionally to enthusiastically agree with something he was saying.

It was a jarring change after seeing him barely give the other music people a second of his time for the last few months but you understood that they had this connection you simply weren’t capable of understanding, a mutual trust built through having the same dream and passion and by the end of the first meeting, even without anything even halfway confirmed, you knew things were going to change from then on out.

Yoongi didn’t have a lot of money to invest into the boys but he was dedicated to promoting them and helping them with levels of production you’d only get with decades of experience, upping their discography to even higher levels and it wasn’t long before he was proving himself right.

“Tour?” Your voice was breaking around the word Heeseung had just said, continuing his sentence afterwards but you hadn’t heard a thing he’d said after that, your ears ringing as your face paled. “You’re leaving?”

He was faltering at the unexpected upset in your voice and you would’ve felt guilty for not matching his level of enthusiasm but you couldn’t help the wave of panic overwhelming you as you continued to try and process what he was saying.

“Hey, hey Y/N listen to me.” His voice was soft and you could feel his hand reaching forward to touch and cup your cheek, softly swiping his thumb over your smooth hot skin and shifting on the bed so he was closer to you. “It would only be for a few months, then I’d be coming back. We’d all be coming back.”

You’d somehow not processed the fact that going on tour meant the other boys would be also leaving with him and another wave of sickness swept over you at the realization you’d be losing most of your friends in one swoop, the most constant and positive thing in your entire life since you’d met them.

“I don’t want to leave, baby you know I’d never just leave.” He was quickly continuing when he realized he’d made it worse and your eyes shot up to him at the use of the pet name falling from his lips so casually despite never hearing it directed towards you before. He didn’t even seem to notice that he had said it and he was continuing on despite the surprise on your face. “But… I mean this is it.”

His words were vague but you knew exactly what they meant.

This was the end of the road for the life you’d been so happily living because despite how content and happy you were watching them play small and intimate shows, Heeseung had this hunger for more that would never be satisfied in a place like your hometown.

He didn’t mean to break your heart of course and you were definitely at fault for stupidly falling in love with a rockstar, falling victim to the oldest cliche in the book as you sat at the bus station and cried into Joonie’s shoulder. You watched as their tour bus got further and further out of sight before it was turning a corner and disappearing with all of them on it.

Things were the roughest they’d ever been for the first few months the boys were gone.

Your typical routine had been shattered and you were back to existing like a corpse, moving around from one task to the next with no real excitement or purpose. You’d never necessarily gained one but being around somebody as passionate and driven as Heeseung was like getting a secondhand high and you’d been riding the wave of his interest for the last year, now alone out at sea and stuck scrubbing the counters of a coffee shop in the small downtown area of your city.

You tried to write for the first month or two but eventually it got too hard for you to handle and you started to let Heeseung’s letters pile up. He’d still call your home phone but your mom stopped letting you know when he did and sometimes you’d hear her softly telling him that you weren’t feeling good and she’d have you call back later. She never brought it up and neither did you.

He’d call Heejin and Riki too and sometimes you’d hear his voice when you were talking to Sunoo on the phone. He’d went with them on tour after Yoongi had asked him to be their official team manager, giving him more time to handle the business side of things while Sunoo dealt with their personal schedules and issues. You’d listen to your friend lie and say he was talking to his sister and you’d thank him softly as he sighed and asked why you couldn’t just talk to your shared friend.

You didn’t know how to explain that Heeseung was something you needed to get clean from and hearing from him in small doses would make it ten times harder for you to function.

It was too much to say that his letters kept you awake all night crying as you read about how much he missed you followed by random sketches and song lyrics he was writing about you. They wouldn’t understand why you dropped a full plate of food the first time you heard them on the radio at work or why you stayed up all night to see their first actual interview on TV.

Eventually people stopped mentioning the band to you or at least spoke like the main guitarist and face of the group didn’t exist. It was easy enough to avoid for the first six months and then the articles started to roll out.

The boys hadn’t come home after their first tour and they were “temporarily” staying out in New York where there was more of a network and better opportunities. Part of you was grateful Heeseung hadn’t moved back to town, knowing you’d run into him eventually but you couldn’t stop thinking about him regardless considering the news being put out with his name on the headlines.

“That’s his third fight this week Sunoo.” You were spitting over the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you aggressively scrubbed at a dish that’d already been clean for the past few minutes. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping them in check?”

“You don’t think I’m trying Y/N?” His voice was exhausted and desperate and you felt bad immediately for snapping at him, knowing your real anger didn’t result from him. “I have no idea what to do, I’ve never seen him like this.”

All the boys had been subject to some controversy as they continued to gain quick fame and admirers but like always, your brain was laser focused on Heeseung. He was getting into drunken fights routinely and being reported with multiple women who may or may not be fans who like to kiss and tell, photos of him and the other boys looking worse and worse each passing weekend as their rockstar lifestyle truly blossomed into an absolute disaster.

Eventually you started to find yourself ignoring the news again, becoming accustomed to it and already knowing what it was going to be every time Riki sighed entering your job and slid a magazine in your direction.

Three years passed like this and while you had stopped crying every night from how much you missed Heeseung and your other friends, if you could even consider them that considering the lack of communication over the years, you still felt that empty feeling in your skin as you robotically went about your routines and lifeless activities that didn’t hold any real purpose or grand result.

At the end of the third year, stretching into a point where you’d been away from Heeseung longer than you were ever with him, Heejin had told you that the band was back in town.

She’d called you and hesitantly let you know that she had run into Jay at the local grocery store a few hours ago, citing that she hadn’t thought much about it until she was back at her tattoo shop and thinking about you possibly running into one of the boys for as long as they stuck around this time. You’d thanked her for the heads up and then buried your head into your arms in upset, both at how little distance was between you and Heeseung and also regarding the fact Sunoo hadn’t even bothered to tell you they were around.

Half of you expected it, knowing you weren’t teenagers anymore standing in a cold concert line and he didn’t owe you any update on his whereabouts, clearly not telling Heejin either considering her shock upon seeing a familiar face.

Joonie however seemed to know all about it when you hesitatingly mentioned it over lunch with her and Riki after he’d asked you why you seemed so on edge. “Well it’s been on their tour show list for like four months.”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” Riki was voicing your thoughts before you could and his face was curled up in annoyance and betrayal as he shoved a fry into his mouth, clearly just as caught off guard as you and hurt considering he’d also gotten close to the members before they’d left and he was friends with Sunoo for as long as you.

“You always tell me not to talk about them in front of Y/N.” She was whining out and you glanced at the younger boy who looked slightly sheepish as she said something he clearly meant to keep private.

She wasn’t necessarily wrong and you’d grown to realize being around her was going to be hard considering how big of a fan she remained of the band even after their decline into scandal, simultaneously acting like any other fan girl and somehow also constantly bragging to others about how she knew them personally before they’d blown up. Maybe she had mentioned their return at some point but it’d been years since you started to tune her out.

“So they’re not staying?” You were finally speaking again, your voice weak and curious and she gave you a knowing look before nodding and patting your hand.

You weren’t sure why you felt overwhelmingly disappointed that they’d eventually leave again despite the fact you planned to spend the entire time they were here avoiding them and hiding out in your apartment. It was probably for the same reason she was giving you a pity filled look and Riki was picking at the skin around his nails.

It only took a few days for Joonie to push the limit on how much of her interest in the band you could take, answering her late night call to hear her hysterical as she screamed over the sound of passing cars and told you she’d completely stalled on the highway and was going to miss the show.

You told yourself that you began immediately putting on your shoes and grabbing your keys because you were a good friend and you kept repeating it in your head the entire drive to her location, swearing over and over that it had nothing to do with putting yourself closer to Heeseung. Even after her and her two friends had gotten in your car with his face on their tshirts, you swallowed your tongue and promised your heart it wasn’t for any other reason.

It wasn’t because you wanted to see the thousands of fans outside the arena, the show being on the nicer side of town and twenty minutes away from the venues they used to hold small performances for.

They thanked you continuously as you parked and then Joonie was pulling you aside to guilty whisper that you’d need to get your parking validate to be able to leave and return to pick them back up. A wave of nausea rolled over you but you were still convincing yourself you didn’t care so you swallowed your sickness and gave her a tight smile before following them outside the car.

“The booths over there.” She was telling you once you’d gotten inside and she had a wide smile on her face that matched her friends, clutching her ticket and practically beaming with excitement. “So we’ll see you at 11:30?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak and not give away how you were feeling so you hummed out a response to her question you barely processed before watching them squeal and walk towards the actual check in and entrance.

You rubbed your fingers together anxiously before glancing to your right and sighing seeing the line of people waiting to get their parking validated, teenage girls who looked like they barely could drive mixed in with dads and boyfriends who looked just as exhausted and irritated as you were starting to feel.

For a second you considered just leaving the girls there and asking Heejin or Riki to pick them up afterwards so you could drink yourself delirious and forget you’d ever been this close to the band but your heart clenched thinking about them having to experience the same thing and you told yourself again that you were trying to be a good friend.

You’d been standing in the line for twenty minutes, holding onto your last strand of patience and curiously listening to the fans around you talking about the boys with so much awe and wonderment.

You couldn’t help but smile at some things, hearing them gush about Jungwon’s cheeks or rave about how sexy Sunghoon’s newest guitar was and you felt a bit stupid for the pride filling your chest. You’d been avoiding them and their music, never listening to anything they’d put out in recent years but you felt happy for them knowing they were still igniting that same excitement in people even if they seemed to have lost the passion themselves.

It was almost exactly twenty one minutes later when you were feeling something tap against your shoulder, whipping your head to the side to see who had bumped into you before freezing up completely.

He had a mask on and a hat almost covering his eyes but you knew immediately who it was, eyes widening as you looked at him and then glanced around your surroundings to see if anybody had recognized him too.

“The fans don’t pay much attention to anyone without an instrument.” Sunoo was saying and you could hear him smiling even if you couldn’t see most of his face, breathing out a sigh of relief and pulling him in for a hug before you had a second to think about it.

He accepted it immediately and you were grateful that he wasn’t being distant with you despite the fact that was all you’d shown each other in recent years, melting into your hold as your eyes pricked with tears considering how much taller and thinner he was now. Sometimes when you thought of the boys, they were frozen in time and still teenagers in your head and you felt a bit dizzy as the illusion broke right in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You were whispering out into his chest and then pulling back to stare up at him in amazement, scanning over his covered face.

“Sunghoon saw the hundreds of messages Joonie had sent… she actually had the guts to ask him to pick her up after her car stalled.” He was explaining and you felt embarrassed for your friend even though Sunoo was laughing like it was something funny. You got annoyed with her behavior but she was still your friend and you almost felt offended for her knowing they’d all been laughing at her attempts to reach out, no matter how baseless her connection with them seemed on their side. “We figured that you would’ve been the one to answer her calls.”

“We?” You were asking the second the word fell from his lips and a flash of regret passed over his face. “Do they all know I’m here?”

“Except for him.” He was explaining and you felt his hand squeezing your arm to try and calm you down, a flash of familiarity running through you at the feeling despite slowly recognizing the boy in front of you less and less. “But I imagine one of them is going to slip up sooner or later.”

You were nodding in understanding but your heart started to thump with anxiety and you were grateful that the arena was so full, hoping Heeseung wasn’t dumb enough to run out into a waiting room of fans to try and see you.

“I have to go.” You were practically forcing the words out and your face was pulling into a grimace as you said them, feeling short of breath and dizzy as your past and present finally started to collide despite your years of effort. “Can you…”

You were gesturing towards the parking validation ticket in your hand and he glanced down at it before looking back at your panicked eyes and nodding softly, squeezing your arm one more time before he was taking it and giving you the go ahead to get out of the arena before your chest exploded.

You didn’t know exactly what to say to him, you weren’t sure if this was a see you later or another long term goodbye and he seemed to be thinking the same thing, nodding again when you smiled sadly at him and took a few steps backwards.

Nearly losing your footing as you turned around, you were dizzyingly making your way out of the arenas main center and pushing back out into the chilled air. Your lungs tried to suck in deep breaths and you hurriedly made your way back to the parking garage but you were failing miserably and you eventually gave up all together, pausing in your quick strides and resting again the building with your eyes shut tight.

It wasn’t at all quiet, fans still gathered outside before the show and traffic beeps and honks as people tried to get in and out of the busy area, but your head felt empty and shut down.

The sound of footsteps approaching you crept into your dizzy brain and you took a deep breath before looking up, somehow already knowing who it was going to be without so much as a glance. He was stopping a few feet away from you when you looked up and your legs felt weaker as you stared at him in silence.

He was wearing a mask and a hat like Sunoo and whilst you’d been disappointed earlier about not being able to see your old friends face, now you were extremely grateful for the coverage. It didn’t help much considering you could still see the most recognizable part of him, his big eyes blinking at you in shock.

“You don’t look that surprised.” Heeseung’s voice was shockingly similar to how it was last time you’d heard it in person, the tone only slightly deeper and the only major change being the lifelessness behind his words as he watched you stand up straight.

He was right, for some reason you weren’t at all shocked to see him in front of you but he was in the same spot as you considering he came to find you in the first place. “Should I be? You’re here aren’t you?”

You heard him scoff softly before he was turning his head to look around the area, handful of fans still wandering around but slowly starting to disperse as they made their way insides to find their seats and buy the merch. He was glancing back at you quickly and then he was reaching up to take his mask off.

He didn’t say anything for a while after he took it off and you just stared at him, scanning over his face and the difference that time had handed to him. His features were a lot sharper now, growing into his nose and ears perfectly and you once again were hit with the reality that you’d been apart for a long time and the boy you knew was long gone.

“Sunoo validated your ticket.” He was starting to speak suddenly, awkwardness seeping into his tone due to your prolonged silent stare and you watched him dig into his pocket to retrieve the crumbled up piece of paper the parking machine had given you. “He got busy so I just brought it out.”

“He got busy?” You questioned and took a step forward away from the building, taking it from him swiftly and wincing when your finger brushed against his. “You’re the one in the band.”

He didn’t say anything to that, clearly lying about why he had been the one to bring the ticket out but making no move to correct himself or attempt to be honest with you. You didn’t really mind considering you were in a similar boat, having no real reason to rest again the building like you had other than buying yourself more time in the area.

“You’re not staying?” He was asking and his voice broke slightly which caused a large frown to form on your face, not sure why he had to even ask considering you both knew you weren’t going to watch his show.

“I’ll be back after to..” You awkwardly trailed off and lifted your hand that was clutching the parking ticket, indicating the reason you were there and watching him carefully. “Are you nervous?”

He tensed up as the familiar words fell from your lips and you felt like the air stopped moving for a second before he answered. He’d heard it asked thousands of times since it last was in your voice in that specific tone but it never bothered him before after the first year.

It was asked genuinely by other people, actually wondering if he was feeling nervous or at times doubting his abilities and using it as a way to get under his skin. Nobody ever made the simple question feel as important as you did and he understood why now that he was older and had plenty of time to think about it. You asked him, not because you thought he was or you figured he wouldn’t be able to handle the stage and the pressure, but because you knew it ignited a fire in him.

You’d ask him just to hear him repeat back in a firm voice how excited he was, to see that passion flare up in his eyes and give him an opportunity to voice some solid self confidence before he got up there to perform.

You knew right away that the phrase brought him back as far in time as it did you but your stomach turned at the blank look on his face, nothing arising to the surface at the triggered memory and instead he almost looked like he was deflating as you stood there.

“I’m just… tired.” He was eventually muttering back and clearing his throat before anxiously scratching at the back of his neck, both of you knowing the weight of his unusual answer and preparing to cripple under it once you were out of the suffocating hold his gaze had on you.

The both of you stood there for a few seconds longer before you could hear the screaming getting louder from inside, his head turning towards the building before looking back at you with a defeated expression. You knew without him saying it that he needed to go and that same feeling you had with Sunoo started to creep up again, not knowing what type of goodbye this was.

“There’s a second show tomorrow.” He was rushing out and then chewing on his lip ring as he avoided your questioning gaze. “You’ll be on the list.”

He glanced at you one more time but he seemed to understand that you weren’t going to give him a definite response, nodding his head in conclusion before he was turning around and jogging back towards the side entrance of the arena.

All the air returned to your lungs once he was finally out of sight and then immediately left again once you broke into a heavy sob, stumbling back a bit before quickly gathering your emotions and trying your best to hold yourself together.

You were quickly wiping your tears and glancing around to make sure nobody had been a witness to your abrupt meltdown, reminding yourself why you were there in the first place and heading back to your car like your world hadn’t just been taken off pause.

——

It had only taken you two seconds after the invitation fell from Heeseung’s lips to decide that you were going to go to the show.

He had said it like it was a question but the look in his eye told you that he didn’t think you’d come, but he still had invited you and that stupid part of you felt like that had to mean something. You’d had Riki pick the girls up from the concert that night and you ignored Joonie’s calls and the countless uploads she’d had from the concert.

You didn’t need to see the boys performing like nothing had happened, like your entire life hadn’t been flipped outside down with just a few sentences from the boy you’d tried your hardest to forget about the past few years.

It was a bit hypocritical considering you were currently back at the same exact place you were running from yesterday, this time walking in the opposite direction of the parking validation booth and awkwardly approaching the ticketing line. You felt like an idiot telling the staff that you were on the list, seeing their annoyed expressions and knowing they must hear it a dozen times a night from fan girls trying to get backstage.

“Nice try but there’s only ever been one name on the list and trust me, that seats never been taken.” The man was talking to you in a bored tone and your heart clenched at the implication of what he was saying.

You wondered if it was something Heeseung had done at the beginning of the tour in case you decided to come to one of the shows but he knew you well enough to know you never would and you certainly would never stride in the place without a ticket expecting to be on the list.

Eventually you figured that he had put you on there with the hopes that one day he’d have the guts to invite you and your heart shattered a bit more thinking about the fact that he never did, never even attempting as far as you were concerned and aware of. You cleared your throat awkwardly and rummaged in your bag to pull out your ID and hand it to the man silently.

His eyes flickered down to it for a second before looking back up at your face and you saw a wave of shock come over him, immediately followed by embarrassment for doubting you in the first place.

You gave him an awkward half smile and then an appreciative nod when he was stepping aside and allowing you to enter the main performance area. You were pausing at the top of the entrance way, eyes scanning over the large arena and feeling a bit sick considering how many seats were there and how few of them were empty.

You were starting to regret showing up and preparing to turn around and head back out before the show started but you were snapped out of your panic when your phone was ringing in your pocket. You were snatching it out in hopes that it was one of your friends trying to calm you down but your eyebrows furrowed when you saw it was an unknown number.

Finger hovering over the decline button, you had half the mind to consider the fact it might be Heeseung and you were answering it and putting it to your ear before you had a second to think about it.

“You actually came.” You immediately tensed up when the voice was filtering through the speaker, different and raspier but you knew who it was from the first word.

“How do you know I’m here?” You were dumbly asking and glancing around you like he was going to be standing in the shadows somewhere, frowning slightly when he laughed into the phone.

“He told them to alert him immediately if you ever showed up.” Jake was saying as an explanation and halfway confirming your suspicions about how long you’d been kept on the list despite never coming or reaching out to them. “And you’re finally here.”

“I’m not staying.” You were saying quickly and a rough edge seeped into your voice, something you hadn’t had last time he knew you but he also hadn’t been so cocky and demeaning last time you spoke to him so you were equal in that sense.

He was sighing softly and you paused at the sound, not expecting him to sound so defeated. You’d spoken to Jake more than the others over the years, only a few times but he had come home once or twice to visit family and it was hard to avoid him considering he actively was seeking you and the others out each time.

You weren’t really sure why he kept coming around and eventually you realized that he didn’t seem to know why either, looking more and more lost and less like himself every time you saw him. Jake was always so carefree and happy to be around that time you’d all spent together, genuinely seeming like he felt lucky for all of you and the music they were making together.

This new version of him was the most jarring to you out of everybody else because he had gotten sad and then he had gotten very very cold, almost angry every time you saw him and always feeling like he was on the edge of snapping.

You imagine that helped him out on the stage and you finally felt like he fit the rough drummer image that had been given to him by fans and media despite never making that connection yourself when you had known him. So to hear him sigh softly hearing that you were planning on leaving before they even performed, you were stopping in your tracks and finding yourself willing to hear him out.

“He doesn’t know you’re here yet and he’s driving himself so insane that he’s sick in the bathroom.” He was saying in a lower tone and you imagined that staff and other members were around him considering how soon the show was going to start. “No one can get him to come out but I have a feeling on who might.”

Tears were filling your eyes as he spoke about Heeseung’s condition but you were shaking your head in denial despite the fact he couldn’t see you, wiping your face with your sleeve before whispering back to him in a shaky tone. “I can’t do this Jake.”

“Please Y/N.” He was quickly retorting back and he sounded so similar to how he used to that you felt floored. His tone was genuine and filled with concern for his friend and you’d almost forgotten what he sounded like when he cared about something. “All these years you haven’t answered him, please don’t leave yet. Atleast get him on stage and then you can go and I’ll make sure he can’t find you for the rest of the time we’re here.”

Your breath was catching at the last half of his rushed statement and you were covering your mouth for a second with a shaky hand. It took you a few breaths to think of what to say and he stayed silent on the other line throughout it.

“Promise me.” You were mumbling out and clutching the device so hard you were worried it would crack, hearing nothing on the other side for a bit as your stomach bubbled with thick anxiety. “Promise me you’ll keep him away from me after this.”

It went silent again and you were almost positive that he had hung up the phone before he was speaking again in a defeated tone. “I promise.”

——

If you had gone back to the week before and told yourself that you’d be standing in a room with all of your old friends, you would’ve probably hid under the counter at work and begged future you to leave you alone.

You were trying your best to not showcase the fact that you were absolutely freaking out and filling with more and more devastation every time one of them spoke in their lifeless and annoyed tones, bickering behind you about the purpose of your presence and debating wether it was a good idea or not to allow you to be the one to try and gather Heeseung.

“He invited her for a reason Hoon.” Sunoo was sighing in your defense but he didn’t seem optimistic about it either, barely sparing you a glance since you walked through the door and anxiously checking his walkie talkie every few minutes to try and update the staff.

“Because he saw her yesterday and it fucked him up, he’s not in his right mind.” Jay was snapping before Sunghoon could answer for himself and you flinched at his loud tone, taking a step back when he was standing off the couch and throwing an arm in your general direction to emphasize that it was your fault.

You were frowning deeply at the accusation, not understanding how it could possibly be your fault that Heeseung was having a melt down especially when they didn’t seem that rare for him, his general anxiety and mental health another constant topic in the tabloids.

They continued to argue and you did your best to tune them out while simultaneously trying to ignore the fact Jungwon was silently staring at you from the corner and Jake was only a few feet away from you with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said much to come to your defense but he was continuously shooting you glances like he was trying to monitor your reactions.

You might as well have been in a room full of amped up strangers, possibly high as they paced and jittered about and a part of you felt like you were grieving now that you knew there would be no way to pretend things were still the same, no more pretending time was frozen and nothing had changed.

“Have any of you been able to calm him down this entire time?” You were suddenly asking from near the wall and it was the first time you’d spoken since you’d gotten in there.

The reaction was immediate and varying from each boy, half of them tensing up and looking more frustrated at the sound of your familiar voice and the others almost instantaneously losing the tension in their shoulders with softened eyes. It was like they hadn’t fully processed you being there until you spoke, talking around you in hypotheticals like you imagined they’d been doing over the years.

You wondered if you were a topic they were supposed to avoid mentioning like Heeseung had become for you. Then you selfishly wondered if they’d missed you at all.

Nobody answered for a while and then Jungwon was shaking his head softly, holding your gaze with a sympathetic look that caused you to nod in understanding. “Isn’t it worth a try then?”

“We have 15 minutes.” Sunghoon was saying in that same cold tone he’d been using but it held some level of defeat this time, slumping back into the couch and saying no form of the objection he had voiced so quickly earlier.

You were being directed to a hallway suddenly by Sunoo and before you could say anything or ask why he was ushering you out, he was hastily pointing to a door and scurrying off back towards the dressing room. You didn’t necessarily need him to explain, hearing the soft sobs and gags coming from behind the door now, but you wished he had given you a bit more time to collect yourself or think of something to say.

You took a deep breath and decided to not stall and try to gather some of the might you had the other night, pushing through the door and pausing once you were on the other side of it.

“If I have to tell you to fuck off one more time I’m going to get everybody in this shitty arena fired.”

Heeseung’s voice was coming from one of the stalls and your entire body locked up at the sound of it, never hearing him quite so angry before but also never hearing him sound so empty and wrecked. He was clearly holding back his sobs now that somebody was in there but you could see one of his leather boots poking into the stall next to his, laying on the floor and most likely clutching the toilet.

You were approaching the plastic door without saying anything and tugging on it softly once you were close to it, your fingers curling around the top of it and pulling it towards you with a small shake.

Heeseung’s words about the arena being shitty weren’t necessarily incorrect considering the lock on the door was immediately budging and it was flying open towards you, revealing you standing behind it to his swollen eyes and allowing you to see his frame curled up on the floor in a sickened despair.

He looked beyond surprised to see you and you were almost worried he was going to throw up again just from the shock of your arrival, his body locking up and then immediately tensing even more when you were taking a reluctant step inside the stall with him. You may have been practically strangers with a heavy history now but you still knew Heeseung better than you knew yourself most days and you felt that same comfort and familiarity as you always did.

So you were sinking to the dirty floor across from him and sighing softly, letting your head lean against the wall of the stall and glancing at him hesitantly.

“You came.” He was finally breathing out and his voice sounded tight because of your close proximity, not necessarily touching but the closest you’d been in almost half a decade. He was struggling to sit up but he eventually managed and stretched his legs out in your direction, both of you sitting in the same position across from each other.

“You invited me.” You whispered back to him with a small sad smile that was slipping away as fast as it came. “I was on the list.”

He didn’t laugh but you could tell he appreciated your attempts to lighten the situation, eyes softening slightly at the way your shoulders raised into a small casual shrug.

“What’s happening Heeseung?” You were asking him but you both knew what it was already and you felt just as sick as he looked as you said his name, almost feeling like a swear word as it fell from your lips naturally. “Why are we here right now?”

“You…” He was pausing as his voice shook and you watched him closely, not missing the way he was avoiding looking in your direction and instead staring down at the shaky hands that were picking at his fingers in his lap. “You stopped answering the letters, you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

Your shoulders deflated as he spoke in a hurt voice, clearly being bothered by your lack of communication and not at all understanding why you had done it in the first place. You admit that it was a bit childish on your side to completely cut him off without a final conversation but you knew Heeseung would never just let you go like you needed.

“It was only supposed to be a few months Hee, you said you’d come home and you never did.” You tried to keep your tone less accusatory than his but you were also extremely hurt by what he had done.

You’d spend the entirety of your time with Heeseung making him your source of happiness and that was your first mistake because he was always bound to leave. He was always set after something much bigger than your town could ever offer but you guess a stupid part of you thought that you would be enough for him to stay.

You didn’t want him to give up his dreams, it was the entire reason you fell for him in the first place but you just wished time could stay frozen in that summer.

It’d been years and you still could feel him sitting next to you, never smoking with the others because you didn’t even though you knew he did it when you weren’t around. He was always supporting you like that and even though neither of you ever said it out loud, you knew he loved you too. It wasn’t his fault that he loved music more and you could never compare to the feeling it gave him but you tried your hardest.

Sometimes you thought it was working, when he’d come over after practice and you’d lay together in your backyard with its overgrown grass. You’d feel it tickling against your bare skin when you laughed at a stupid joke he made and rolled in the other direction clutching your stomach.

Other times you were once again hit with the reminder that he was only temporary, you’d see him zone out listening over and over to tracks he’d been producing or his eyes would go wide with amazement any time you went to a show that wasn’t his.

And you were completely right about him being temporary up until now, watching him sit across from you with that broken expression on his face that made you sick every time you locked eyes with him. You weren’t sure what exactly started his decline, you felt guilt for playing a large part in it but you didn’t think it would be much difference if you had stuck around his life anyways.

Maybe you would’ve begged him to come home when he started going to star filled parties, too many drugs to avoid and too much pressure to fit in to not indulge. Maybe you would’ve called Yoongi and demanded for a hiatus, giving you some time to come see him or bring him back home for a week or two to calm him and his system down.

Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up on the dirty floor of a public bathroom where he was vomiting his guts out just a few minutes ago. You could’ve been back in your long grass or pressed next to him on his dads old couch, still just as young and just as silently inlove with the boy with pretty pink hair and eyes so wide and amazed you couldn’t help but drink them in.

“I would’ve stayed.” He was finally forcing out the words necessary to snap you from your thoughts, the words you’d been considering for the past few years. “If you told me to stay I would have in a second.”

“And then what?” You were retorting quickly but your tone was weak and sad instead of bitter and iced over, shaking your head softly and giving him another sad smile and humorless laugh as you considered the option. “We grow old together with you secretly hating me for ruining your dreams, I live with the guilt of making you do that.”

“I could never hate you. Nothing could ever make me hate you, trust me I’ve tried.” His tone was the opposite of yours, aggressive and nasty as he spat out the words like they burned but you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you necessarily.

You let the two of you fall into an unfamiliar silence, giving him time to collect himself before he accidentally said something he’d eventually end up regretting even more than he already was.

He didn’t say anything either and he seemed to understand what you were doing, sighing out a shuttered breath before he was scooting forward across the floor until his knees were knocking against yours. You glanced up at him and your face fell at the exhausted look on his face, leaning forward similarly until you could wrap your hands around his and squeeze them tightly with your thumbs rubbing over his calloused skin.

Heeseung was sucking in a breath at the feeling of you touching him and then he was breaking into small hiccuped sobs that left you feeling heavy and lost on what you could do to help him.

You were letting yourself sink back into the past when you were moving forward even more so you could pull him closer towards you, his upper half practically in your lap now as you cradled his head and softly pet his damp hair that was dyed black now and messily falling into his eyes.

Your own eyes were falling shut and you were resting yourself on top of him, half hugging each other and half just giving up and letting the weight of his body and yours combine into a mess of limbs and heavy sobs. It was making you feel both better and worse, feeling him so close again but not knowing if it was the last time and also holding the knowledge that you’d missed such a large portion of time with him like this.

It wasn’t possible to get back everything you’d missed, it wasn’t possible to rewind and start over and you weren’t sure there was any way to prevent this amount of hurt anyways.

You could’ve asked him to stay with you all those years ago but then you’d never see that light within him again and you know it would always be on the back of his mind, his fingers and heart always aching for more than what you could give him and you’d stay up countless nights regretting making him give that up for you.

Maybe if you had answered his letters, picked up his relentless calls and heard him out when he didn’t come home. He could’ve had a good reason or maybe just hearing him finally say he loved you would be enough for you to handle the impossible distance.

So many what ifs that you’d never get the answer to because you weren’t there and you’d never get back there again no matter how much your heart still held onto the past and your love together.

Instead you were here and this was where the road with him had led you, cradling each other as the crowd cheered for him outside and it fell on your deaf ears. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go and you weren’t going to make him, you weren’t going to make him choose again and you didn’t know if that would be enough this time but you listened to him cry and prayed it would be.

Heeseung sung out a choir of sobs and gasps into your chest and you knew you would stay with him for as long as he needed you too, until his cries died down or your legs went numb.

Until the cheers fell into silence and the fans went home for the night disappointed, at least holding the knowledge that the music would still be there tomorrow.

You still weren’t positive that he was really here with you and he still felt as fleeting and temporary as he did when you first had met him, wide eyed and stuttered conversations. It was only a small flicker of hope and comfort that your love for him was the most permanent thing you’d ever experienced.

And that small flicker was more than enough for you.

[sserajeans]

mine

kim minji x fem! reader

synopsis: you both knew love came with downhills, but neither of you thought it'd get that bad. you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter, and she's the best thing you could ever call 'mine'.

genre + others: non-idol reader x idol minji, goes over the ups and downs of their relationship, semi angst but fluff end TRUST ME

notes: (TW: implied suicide of minor character) , y/n has been through so much pls give her a break, idk if either of them were toxic, but they work around it bc love >>>, not requested, i was just listening to the album and got an idea that made my soul go WHOOSH hehe, THIS IS A VERY LONG ONE

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

you were in college, working part-time, waiting tables. left a small town, never looked back. i was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin', wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts.

you and minji were your friend group's favorite couple. almost anyone would agree, actually.

you met in high school when you transferred from a smaller, almost unknown town under a merit scholarship sponsored by the school. you were your family's pride and joy, the eldest daughter and older sister to two siblings. your parents weren't born with the same comfort they provided you and your siblings, or any comfort at all. it took a lot of work for them to get to where they were, and even then they still work day and night to give a life better than theirs for their children.

being born first, you witnessed everything. the blood, sweat, and tears your parents poured into everything; their failed start-up business, their multiple part-time jobs, and the low-paying wages they'd get in return. but above all this, you also saw how your parents did it all for love. love for you, love for their kids, love for the family they made. and so you swore, as an adorable 8-year-old, that you'd work your hardest and earn enough money to get your parents to rest comfortably once they were of age. you were raised in a struggling house, but a loving home. you knew love. you weren't a stranger to it. you loved love and the power it held.

minji, on the other hand, didn't. when you met her in your first year of high school, her parents had just signed divorce papers after her dad caught her mother cheating. she was only 16 at the time, and her parents were her role models of love. to her, they represented what love would, could, and should be. she believed in love, until she grew to hate it. she hated the way it hurt her father, she hated the way it hurt her, but most of all she hated the way it pulled her mother away from her. minji knew love. she wasn't a stranger to it. but she hated love and the power it held.

because of the stark difference you two had with your outlooks on love, it was a shock to everyone when the kim minji agreed to not just being your prom date, but to you courting her during your junior year of high school as well. 

“kim minji is this really you?” her best friend at the time, seol yoona, waved her hand in front of the raven-haired girl’s face. she was trying to finish an essay in english, one of their final requirements for the semester. “what’s different about park y/n?”

minji sighed and closed her notebook, finally facing the rest of her friends who sat crowded around her.

“look. she was nice to me at prom and she’s…” her friends’ eyes widened in anticipation. “cute, i guess.”

“oh come on minji that can’t be just it…”

“yeah you rejected like a quarter of the student population! i’m sure there were a few nice and cute ones!”

“they all…” minji started as she stood up from her desk and began packing her things in her backpack. “i’m just more comfortable with her, okay? we’ve been friends a while, and she’s patient about everything right now because she knows about…”

the rest of the table nodded their heads in understanding. there was no need for her to expound on that. 

meanwhile, in the complete opposite side of the school campus, was where you and your two closest friends ate lunch. under the shade of the courtyard’s largest tree.

"you're fucking playing with me..."

"i'm not! she said yes! she really did!" you exclaimed, mouth full of the school's spam and kimchi kimbap. 

"you better not mess this up y/n... you're like the first person i know of that she's ever said yes to." your other friend commented, playfully shoving your upper arm.

"do you guys not have like... the teeny-tiniest bit of faith in me?" 

they looked at you for a solid minute before nodding and shrugging. jokes aside, you were a selfless and caring person, and every one that has ever gotten to know you was sure of that.

and fair enough, by your first year of college which was also minji's first year as newjeans' leader, after almost 2 years of courting her, you asked her to have things official, and she said yes.

do you remember, we were sitting there by the water? you put your arm around me for the first time. you made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter. you are the best thing, that’s ever been mine.

it had been just over a year since you two started officially dating, and nothing much changed since you put a label on it. you were now in your second year of university, simultaneously maintaining a part-time job at a local restaurant. 

it didn’t take an idiot to know that dating an idol was hard. and it also didn’t help that your schedule wasn’t the most flexible either. there were even some days where minji had more time in the week to spend than you did. the both of you hated that, and it frustrated you two to the point where there were times you’d take it out on each other.so when you and minji had your first big argument, it was a shock to none of the peers who knew of your relationship.

you sighed deeply as you unlocked the door to your apartment. it was the middle of midterms week, and you had just finished an evening shift. you didn’t even want to think about studying for your calculus exam tomorrow, but you knew you had to if you wanted to keep your gpa up to the scholarship’s requirements.

“park y/n.” minji’s voice interrupted your brain’s train of thought. you were so busy trying to figure out the most efficient way to spend the rest of the time between the present and your exam. 

usually, minji’s voice calling your name would be warm and sweet. you talked about it to your friends one time, describing it as melted chocolate, and she gagged at how cheesy you were being. but god forbid you speak the truth.

but now, her voice was neither warm nor sweet. it was cold. it was cold and sharp. if you had the time to process it you’d probably describe it as ice shards, rather than melted chocolate.

you hesitated to face her, because you knew exactly why she was here in your apartment at 11pm in the evening instead of her dorms, fast asleep. you couldn't count how many times you cancelled a date last minute within the last month, and minji was tired of you not explaining properly.

you heard her stand up from the living room couch and walk towards you in the dining table. 

“what is it, minji?” you spoke, leaning your forehead against your palm as you brought out school textbooks and worksheets.

“what do you mean ‘what is it, minji’? you know why i’m here, y/n.” 

she wasn’t lying. again, you knew why she was here with you, which is why you dreaded the conversation that was about to come.

“this is the 4th date you’ve cancelled this month without telling me why. if you wanted to break up i’d much rather you tell me directly…” the last sentence felt like a stab to your chest. the cold and sharp dagger that was her words, taking one large hit.

“what the fuck? no, okay! no i don’t!”

“then for the love of god would you at least tell me why you’re being so fucking distant?!” 

you kept silent. eyes avoiding hers as you internally debated on whether you wanted to burden her with your struggles or not.

“see? you can’t even say it.”

“fucking hell. my sister is sick, minji.” 

you let out a shaky exhale as you spoke, finally gathering the courage to face her.

“she has pneumonia. she’s sick. she’s in the hospital. and i-“ you cut yourself off as tears made its way down your face. the cold exterior on minji’s face dropped almost immediately at the sound of your voice breaking. your breathing remained shaky as you tried your best to verbalize everything that has been piling up over the past few weeks.

“medical insurance isn’t enough to cover it. my parents are working endlessly, but they’re getting older and i don’t want them to overwork themselves or they could get sick too, so i asked if i could pick up more shifts at the restaurant because that’s really all i can do right now. it just breaks my heart whenever i visit her because she’s always telling me that she’s sorry for causing trouble when none of it was her fault. and fuck, as if it doesn’t get any worse it’s midterms week, and if i fail just one exam it’s enough to bring my gpa down for the school to drop me.”

you gasped for air.

the girl sat beside you and rubbed your back, reaching over for your water bottle and offering it to you. you muttered a thanks as you gulped down half of the water inside and gave yourself a few seconds to speak again.

“and i know what you’re thinking. ‘why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve helped.’ but minji please. you’re an idol. you’re a celebrity. fuck, you’re the leader of one of the biggest group’s right now. you have enough on your plate. i don’t want to add to that.”

minji nodded to show you she was listening despite not saying anything since you started letting it out.

"let's take a walk." 

you were shocked by the suggestion, and minji could tell. she would be too.

“but won’t people recogn-“

"more air to breathe, more space to think. come on." she got your coat for your and brought your most comfortable pair of shoes over.

you weren't agreeing, but you also weren't objecting the idea. from what could've been a fight to this, you were just glad you had the warm minji with you right now.

she dragged you along by the hand, just a few steps ahead of you. it didn't take too long until you two found yourselves sitting on the park bench facing a small river. it wasn't too far away, just a couple meters from your apartment building.

“can i ask you something, y/n?” there it was. the warmth, the sweetness in her voice. 

she turned to face you. “do i bother you when i tell you about my problems? when i talk to you about how i worry for haerin not opening up, or when i tell you about how hanni might’ve bothered me on a certain day. does that burden you?”

you looked up at her shaking your head, your eyes still red and puffy. 

“w-what? no. never. i like that you let me know. i like knowing you have some type of output for it."

"well if it doesn't burden you then what makes you think you'd burden me?"

you slowly looked away, eyes busy gazing the clear water and the rocks that laid under.

she moved to wrap her right arm over your shoulders, and slowly reached for your left hand to hold if you'd let her. after all, she didn't expect to be comforting you when she planned on seeing you.

"i may be an idol. i may be a celebrity. i may be newjeans' minji a lot of the time. but i'm also your girlfriend, park y/n. the one you met in high school whose life you changed forever the day you asked me to prom." you leaned against her when she pulled you closer as she spoke.

"i stopped believing in love when my parents split. remember when i told you that? but you were there every step of the way. you understood, and you were fine with waiting." minji took a pause to make sure you were still with her, listening. 

your eyes were heavy, but your brain couldn’t be more alive. 

“y/n, i don't want to be the person that makes their partner feel like they can't talk to them. let me be there for you too, okay? i may not be able to do a lot to fix it, but i'll be there because you shouldn't be facing things alone. not when you have me."

you nodded, letting out the last of your tears on her shoulder while she ran her fingers through your hair. 

“so next time, please, please tell me what bothers you.”

you never gave a clear response, just your sobs slowing down as she held you. minji would later on regret not noticing this.

a few minutes later, after you calmed down, you pulled away to finally fix your eyes on hers.

"thank you. and i still owe you an apology. for how i was the past couple of weeks.”

“you really don’t have to y/n.”

“well, you say that now after i told you. but what i did was still such… an ass move, and i should’ve told you what was going on because you deserved to know with the way it affected you too.”

minji gave you a smile. a small smile that held the largest emotions a human could ever feel. she leaned against your side, head on your left shoulder with her arm around your waist.

“it’s okay…”

“i love you.”

three words. eight letters. the first time it was ever said between the two of you. 

on the inside, you were a little shocked. if your relationship was a sports game, no one would bet on minji saying it first. but she did. and that just made those special words mean a little more than they already did.

you wrapped your left arm around her shoulders and rested your head on hers, giving the top of her head a kiss before saying it back.

“i love you too.”

flash forward and we’re taking on the world together. and there’s a drawer of my things at your place.

a couple months later, you felt on top of the world, and so did minji. you found a higher paying stay-at-home job, your sister got better miraculously quick, and your grades were stellar. for minji, newjeans had just released another hit mini album, and it was played everywhere you went. in the store, at the mall, on tiktok, on the radio. everywhere.

eventually, you two found a free spot on both of your schedules, and used it to have sleepovers at your apartment or her dorm. she’d always prefer staying at yours though. one of the few times you stayed at hers, the second you left, hanni and hyein were teasing her endlessly about… well, usual couple stuff.

this night was one of those sleepover nights. the two of you just finished dinner and were cuddling on the sofa, trying to decide on a movie to watch.

“mean girls?”

“didn’t we watch that last week?” minji reasoned out, looking at you with a questioning face.

“uhm… horror?”

“i don’t mind.”

you hummed and browsed through the horror collection your streaming site had. it took you a while to find a movie, you and minji each always had a minor problem with whatever came up.

“oh hey this one looks fun. zom-“

“did i ever tell you the full story of my parents?”

“ha?”

you looked at her with a rather surprised expression on your face. sure, she’s told you all about being a child of divorced parents and how it affected her. but you never bothered to ask more about it in fear of her discomfort.

“well… no. i wanted you to bring things up at your own pace.”

it felt like a silent agreement that maybe you two were going to drop the movie for a little “deep talk” moment.

“my dad went m.i.a., well, sort of did, on my mom.” she began, you sat cross-legged beside her, reaching for her hand to play with while she muttered a quick ‘thanks’. it was your little show of comfort. 

her parents was a subject that you two didn’t bring up very often. she’d mention them once in a while, like when you were preparing a dish that reminded her of her mom’s cooking, or when you came over to help fix hyein’s bike like her dad used to do for her. but it was never in the subject of the divorce. you two always had more to talk about when you were together anyways.

“he lost a lot of the money in their savings, and he’d never talk to my mom about it thinking he could cover it up soon enough. mom was convinced he was cheating and was sending money to another girl. even after my dad explained everything she just… went and did what she did. until he caught her and… well, you know the rest.”

minji was surprisingly calm throughout the whole storytelling. you figured it must’ve been from keeping it in for so long, finally letting the old wounds heal.

“wow…”

“yeah, ‘wow’.”

“i’m sorry, i just…” you paused and grabbed her other hand, holding them both closely within your palms. “do you think if your dad was honest from the beginning things would’ve been different?”

“i-… well…”

“nevermind, sorry that was int-“ you dropped her hands and ran yours through your hair, the other covering your mouth in disbelief.

“no no, it’s okay.” she reached for your hands and they were intertwined once again. “i think things would’ve turned out the same. it probably would’ve just… took a longer time.”

“i guess… since your mom practically ignored your dad after he explained…”

“yup. i believe things happen for a reason.”

“really? i’m 50/50 on that.” you looked up at her with a questioning look.

“well, for one, it led me to you.” she gazed in your eyes, her hands soft and gently cradling yours side to side. you looked at her with amazement. since when was she making the moves with all the cheesy lines?

“okay… so i’m not 50/50… maybe 70/30.” “dork.” “your dork?” “…” “sayyy it…” “…” “you know you wanna…”

“my dork.”

“hehehe…” 

with a victorious grin on your face, you pinched her right cheek, something she both hated and loved. rolling her eyes, she positioned herself to lay her head on your crossed legs while your hands automatically fixed her hair to keep her face clear.

“god you’re so-“

“lovable? i know… it’s crazy.”  

“well…”

“oh, we were serious?”

“yes, seriously, y/n. there are times i think about that night by the river.”

“that night by the river…”

“when i told you i believed in love again, after my parents. because of you.” she opened her eyes and looked up at you like you were a constellation in the night sky. eyes wide and full of wonder.

“i know what you’re talking about, i didn’t forget, don’t worry.” you smiled, tucking a strand of hair that went astray behind her ear.

“when things get hard i think of that night, and how… i don’t know. you know that feeling when something means so much, and it’s so good, feels so right, almost too perfect, you’re just scared it’ll slip away?”

“mmhm. of course. that’s how i felt about this book i was reading. things were going so well at the beginning, like it wa-… continue though.”

“sometimes i’m scared we’ll slip away.”

“what?!”

“i mean like! it’s just a tiny… irrational fear in the back of my head.”

“ell… good thing that won’t happen!”

“how are you always so sure about things?”

i tell my secrets and you figure out why i’m guarded. you say,

“i get why you’re worried, okay? but we’ll never make your parents’ mistakes.”

she sat up straight to give you a proper hug, or, well, she more or less just threw herself on you. not that you were complaining, you loved her bear hugs.

“you and i… we talk things out. we work well that way, right?”

“yeah.”

“i love you. and thank you for letting me love you.”

“i love you too. so so much.”

and we got bills to pay. we got nothing figured out, when it was hard to take, this is what i thought about. 

throughout your relationship, you two came across a couple, or well, several bumps along the road. but it was always something you two had dealt with before. even if it wasn’t, you were beginning to feel comfortable sharing the weight you carried on your shoulders with minji; talking about the usual late night shifts, a terror professor, etc.

communication was one of the last things your relationship with minji lacked.

until one fateful evening, you received a phone call from your brother. one you wished you never had to hear. one no one ever deserved to hear. 

before he spoke, something about it already felt wrong. the combination of muffled sirens, crying from who you surely knew was from your sister, and conversation between who you assumed were adults, was straight eery. a shiver ran down your spine, realizing the nature of the news.

and you were right. 

you could feel your hand shake as he spoke with a stutter,

“noona… it’s about… about d-dad… h-he… he… did it to hims-himself… he-he w-went out… and to-told us not to follow. a-and, and then we- we heard… we heard a r-really… r-really loud noise… n-noona… wh-when… when are you coming b-back?”

what?

who?

how?

your father. he shot himself in your neighborhood’s park.

and you’ve yet to understand why. why he’d choose to abandon his family. why he suddenly switched from the hardworking man who’d endure hell for his family, to a man who chose to escape his troubles.

after consoling your brother and the rest of your family on the phone, you packed your bags and took a taxi the next day. heading straight back to your hometown, a much smaller and rural area compared to the skyscraping city of seoul. 

you ran straight to your parents’ room as soon as you arrived, your bags dropped and forgotten by the conjoined living room and kitchen. there was no time to reminisce the warmth, comfort, and love that came with the childhood home you haven’t seen in years. 

as soon as you stepped foot in your parents’ room, your younger sister, who was much taller than the last time you saw her, ran straight into your arms, almost knocking you over. it didn’t take long for your younger brother to follow, his added weight finally pushing you to fall butt first to the fortunately, carpeted floor.

you rubbed their backs as soothingly as you possibly could while they started dampening your shirt with tears. in a way, having them in your embrace comforted you the same way you comforted them. you shed your own fair share of tears, hugging them even tighter when they’d take deep breaths and wail.

you also needed to process whatever the hell just happened.

a few minutes later, once your siblings had calmed down, you slowly stood up from the floor and approached your mother who was sorting out papers on what used to be your parents’ shared bed. the mattress dipped as you sat beside her. you wrapped your arms around her frame, giving her a warm hug. 

her pain was silent, and you wished it wasn’t so you’d at least know she had an output, but at the same time, you both knew she held it together for your siblings’ sake. she gave your forehead a kiss and ruffled your hair, muttering a soft “you’ve been eating well.” 

she was just happy to see her baby home.

the next couple of days were dull and grey. it was the only word you could use to describe it. your mother would head out to deal with government papers, your siblings stayed at home with modular work as permitted by the school after what had happened, and you picked up a small full-time job at a bakery as a cashier.

in a private conversation with your mother, late at night when your siblings were fast asleep, she explained to you the law of debt and inheritance in simple terms. it was difficult, but most definitely much needed for you to at least grasp understanding on why your father did what he did. 

“i know what your first thoughts were going to be. and he wasn’t being a selfish person, y/n. he never was and he never will be. in this province specifically, debt isn’t passed down to your heirs. your father… he… he borrowed a lot of money, y/n. and we thought we could pay it back over the agreed 3 years. it was taking longer than expected, and they began looking for your dad with threats that… i’d rather not share with you.”

“wait what? what about the money i’ve been sending? did it help? did you use it?”

“of course we did, y/n. we don’t want your hard work going to waste. we used it for yoonseo and junseo’s tuition. there was an increase that wasn’t in our… scope.”

“fucking school…”

“hey… listen. do you understand things a little better now?”

“…yes.”

“repeat to me what you understand.”

“dad… didn’t want them coming after me… us.”

“yes.”

“i… i don’t understand how you’re so… calm about it right now, ma. did you know? did he tell you he would?”

“he didn’t. we fought about it, actually. i couldn’t believe all that… nonsense he was saying.”

“oh… i’m sorry. i’m sorry i thought he-“

“it’s okay, y/n. and i know you. i know you, yoonseo, and junseo. it’s okay to not be okay right now. i want you to feel that. let it out. cry, scream, take a walk, do anything. let the pain pass through. i’ll be here to make sure you’ll be alright.”

“but we want to be here for you too ma…”

“you will be there for me when you feel better. but right now, you’re my children, and i’m your mom. i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

and for the rest of the night, you silently wept against your mother’s shoulder as she held you tight against her chest, the same way she did the day you were born. you were always your mother's child at the end of the day.

since the day you left til that night, your focus was on yourself and your family. comforting your siblings when your mom couldn’t, helping around the house, and searching for more jobs dirt-paying jobs you could take, for you didn’t care as long as it’d help fill the gap your father left.

your focus was solely on the grief held over yourself and your family, that somehow, you had completely forgotten about your life in the city.

the life with kim minji in it.

on her side of the world, minji was struggling. newjeans was still a popular and well-received group with global success, but their growth was exceeding expectations, and that meant that the hate wave had only gotten stronger.

as their leader, minji was the supporting pillar, the foundation of sanity for the rest of the girls. when one of them had the need to cry or rant, they’d go to her, and she’d hold that responsibility willingly out of love and care for them.

but newjeans’ leader minji, is human. 

newjeans’ leader minji, is kim minji. 

a 20-year-old girl facing the world’s backlash and carrying the weight of her members’ hurt alongside her own on her back.

she wasn’t meant to deal with all of that alone.

where was kim minji’s supporting pillar? where was her foundation of sanity? 

where were you?

where were you when she needed you the most?

and i remember that fight, 2:30 am, ‘cause everything was slipping right out of our hands. i ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street. 

things have calmed down a bit. you and your family decided it was best for you to go back to the city as it was where you’d earn the most for your work. you hated saying goodbye to them, especially at a time where it was best where you were all together. but you and your family didn’t have the luxury of choice. you and your family couldn’t afford to lose the opportunity.

on the 2-hour long taxi ride home, you finally decided to charge your phone. you hadn’t realized how you completely deserted it the moment you arrived at your childhood home. leaving it on the car seat, you decided to take a nap to get rid of the headache that was building up. whether it was from the anxiety of being away from your family after what happened, or the pressure of having your family’s financial support come mostly from you, you needed an escape, even if it was just for 2 hours.

you weren’t sure how or what you felt. you knew most would be sad. grief-struck and lost. and you did feel that in a way, when your family held a small ceremony at the memorial center because it was all you could afford. it was just you, your mom, your siblings, and a few neighbors who knew your parents.

that was the hardest you ever let yourself mourn, the loudest you ever let yourself cry, and after that, you felt empty. your chest and your stomach ached, but there was nothing else to feel. your head, on the other hand, felt heavy. like it was rammed against a cement wall and forced to carry the weight of hardbound books. 

the moment you picked yourself up from your wallowing in sorrow, the weight of responsibility crashed into you all at once. like being thrown anvils to carry on your back, every step you took wherever you went. your father wasn’t just one of your family’s sources of income, he also stood as a figure of support for your siblings and your mom while you were away. you were angry at him for leaving you, but you beat yourself around into understanding that it wasn’t an escape.

it was about 2am by the time you arrived at the small apartment complex. an inconvenient decision that may have seemed senseless, but before you insisted in spending as much time as you could with your family before you were required to report to work the next day.

and so here you were, backpack in hand, unlocking the door to your apartment late at night.

seeing the living room and kitchen lights on alarmed you. you were sure you turned everything off before you left. your electricity bills were going to be horrendous that month.

you settle your bag down on the floor and bent over to untie your shoes.

“oh… you decided to come back?”

that voice.

kim minji.

hearing her voice again felt fresh. but it felt fresh for only one reason.

you ignored her the whole time you were away. you didn’t tell anyone anything, not even you friends in the city.

minji’s tone was firm. it wasn’t sharp and cold like the time she came over to confront you about missing your dates.

it was firm, but it was also vulnerable. the night she confronted you her voice lacked all the emotion in the world. tonight, it was full of it. you couldn’t tell if she was worried, angry, disappointed, sad, maybe everything and in between.

“where were you?”

there it was. the burning question of the night. 

unlike last time, minji didn’t bother approaching you. she stayed seated on the living room couch, her head turned to face you at the front door.

“minji, listen. i-“ you walked towards her, approaching the living room couch with caution from what you could pick up in her voice.

“y/n i was in pain… did you know that? the past few weeks have been horrible… and before i can even begin to talk about why, i have to worry about whether you were even alive or not!”

“i’m sorry! okay, i’m sorry!”

you were defensive, and it came out like you were throwing around apologies for a band-aid solution, when that really wasn’t the case. you just didn’t have it in your heart to tell her what happened.

“we had to cancel 2 fansigns because of threats we were getting, did you even know that, y/n?”

no, you didn’t. you weren’t aware of how far your girlfriend’s career had gone for the group to be receiving that kind of treatment. even before your dad passed.

“…no.”

“and that’s just… the tip of the fucking iceberg… so i ran here thinking i’d find you. because, y/n, i know for a fact you’re my safe place. but you weren’t even fucking there…”

“i’m sorry…” you muttered, your hands clasped together as you stood in front of her.

“you weren’t answering calls, you weren’t responding to texts. from me or any of the girls! i asked my manager to get in contact with your coworkers! fuck, i even asked some of our high school friends… but none of them knew where you were! do you know how sick my stomach felt?” she looked up at you with tears in her eyes. one of the few times you’ve ever seen her cry, and somehow, it always had something to do with you.

it made you feel sick.

“i’m so sorry…”

“and before you fucking arrived, for a moment i really thought you were going to just leave everything like my dad.”

after all the pain she’s shared with you?

“minji i-“

“but a part of me knew, or wanted to know you’d never do that. like you said, ‘we’d never make my parents’ mistakes’. but in that moment it felt like you did. like we did.”

“i’m sorry… i wasn’t thinking…”

“i think we need a fucking break y/n.”

she stood up.

what?

“w-what? minji what do you mean w-why a-“

“this isn’t the first time you just disappeared on me, don’t you get it? the first time it happened i had to confront you because otherwise you’d just let it slide and it’d probably happen again within the next few months.”

she walked to the dining room, away from the living room. it was closer to the apartment entrance.

“that’s not true.”

“when i told you about my parents, it was because i thought i had finally found something different with you.”

“and we did! we are! we’re not like them…”

she stood by the door, hand on the knob.

“you keep disappearing on me, y/n. i don’t know what to believe anymore.”

and just like that, she dropped the spare keys to your apartment on your kitchen counter, and left your apartment unit. 

you knew better than to let her go. you knew better to let the love of your life go. you knew better than to let her, a celebrity, run out in the middle of the night, with no security, and god knows who or what out in the streets of the area you stayed in.

braced myself for the goodbye, ‘cause that’s all i’ve ever known. 

for minji, she had no idea what she was doing, but she knew couldn’t take another second in your damned apartment. the apartment she stayed in the weeks she was waiting for you to come back. it reminded her of the times she felt like her mom, desperately waiting for her dad to come back to her. it reminded her of how she felt like her dad during the first month of the divorce, and how he kept his hopes high telling her and her brother that things would get better because their mom would always come back, when she didn’t. she hated that apartment because it reminded her of why she hated love. why she stopped believing in love.

she hated that apartment because it was yours, and you showed her how to believe in love again, and you made her believe you two would be different. 

if that was so, then why did you leave her feeling like things were going to end the same way her parents did?

she couldn’t take it anymore. how could she fully commit to someone who’d leave her out of the loop. someone who can’t at least try to share part of their world with her. someone who, after seeing all the sides and versions of her, could still get up and leave without a word.

you cursed under your breath for minji being so long-legged. it didn’t take long for her to get to your apartment building’s lobby, but timing was by your side. for once, it felt like maybe the world wasn’t against you.

the scene was cinematic. you grabbed her wrist from behind her, and pulled her by the arm, back towards you. back to you where you knew she belonged.

“i’m sorry, and i promise i’ll tell you everything. and i know i left with no warning, no sign. i know that it was best to tell you. but i promise i wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t something as serious as that.”

you gently reached over to hold her other hand in yours. hopefully it was enough to not have her run away again.

“i don’t know how many sorry’s i have left in me, but whatever that amount is, i know, won’t be enough. but please, minji, i’m begging you now, please don’t leave. i know it’s been hard, it’s been difficult for me too. fuck, it’s been hell the past few weeks and not a single second of it has felt real, but i need you. i need you to stay.”

you took a deep inhale. you hadn’t realized you weren’t breathing throughout your mini speech. 

“because right now it feels like i’ve lost everything, and i can’t take it if i lost you. and i know… i know, i sound like a guilt-tripping asshole right now but that’s really... you mean a lot. you mean so much… you mean so fucking much to me, minji, and i know that’s not what you felt when i disappeared, but it’s the truth, and i-“

your legs gave in. you were exhausted, but you weren’t going to stop until you knew she’d stay.

you knelt on the floor, in front of her, holding her hands above your head.

god, you looked so ridiculously desperate. but you didn’t care. not an inch of your body felt a bit of shame. you knew minji was worth everything you had.

“i love you. i love you. i love you so much. and i don’t know how else to say this without sounding like a fucking asshole, but i know you love me too, and i just need you to hear me out, before you decide to leave. and if you still want to go after, then i-. i wouldn’t blame you, and i’d let you, but please… please.” you whispered out the last of your words, your sobs echoing through the empty, dim-lit lobby.

she’d never seen you like this before. 

not once in the several years of being your friend or your girlfriend.

and you were right, she loved you so much. just as much as you did her.

and that was enough for her to listen.

“get up.” she spoke so softly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t listening for any response.

you scrambled, shuffled onto your feet, and finally came face-to-face with the girl you loved.

it took everything in you to not hold her, kiss her, and comfort her, when you knew you were the cause of her pain and suffering.

but if god made angels roam earth, you were convinced minji was one of them.

she almost catapulted towards you, causing you to stumble backwards until your back met a wall. your arms automatically wrapped around her waist, like it was second nature, or maybe because it was.

you heard her sobs, and you ran your fingers through her hair like she’d do for you. rub her back comfortingly like when you held your siblings in your arms, her tears dampening your clothes the same way theirs did.

you let her be, and waited patiently until she decided to speak. her face rested against your shoulder so her voice was slightly muffled, 

“i thought you’d leave.”

you felt your chest tighten in guilt.

“i thought i did something wrong, or that you were tired of me. tired of dating someone with a job like mine, packed up, and left.”

then, you took me by surprise. you said,

“i’m sorry i made you feel that way.”

you kissed the top of her head and rested your cheek against it.

“never again. i promise, and i say it out loud this time.  i’ll never leave you alone.”

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter Four - That You Are

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my favourite so far

warnings: mentions of violence and blood, arranged marriage

song: That You Are - Hozier

You let your eyes wander. 

It was not a rarity for the king to request to dine in the gardens, though you don’t understand why he never has a tent put up so one might not suffer so much beneath the mid-day sun. 

It is still summer, the last inklings of it clawing uncomfortably at your dignity as you excessively fan yourself, just below the line of impropriety. 

Your sister has clicked her tongue at you multiple times now, in hopes that you might calm yourself, but you cannot and you will not relinquish your only means to cool down the tiniest bit. 

To your right sits Benji. Actually sits and does not lurk behind you or a few feet away, as your father, so very graciously had ordered him to take a seat and is now boasting over how smart the deal he made with the Brackens and the Blackwoods is and how only a true king could come up with such skilled thinking. 

You’re fairly certain that this could not have come from the little bit of dazed brain he must have left but nobody speaks out, least of all Benji, who simply nods and every now and then thanks the king. 

It’s all quite arduous to sit through and your mind keeps circling back to the end of town and wondering whether the medicine you had made in a hurry two nights ago was doing what it was supposed to do. 

Marion had gone bright red in the face when you had informed her of your indiscreet meeting in the dungeons but you cannot seem to muster up even an ounce of concern over having shared your secret with Benji. 

Quite the opposite, actually. 

You allow yourself a stolen glance at him and this newfound sensation overwhelms you again. You cannot figure it out, incapable of identifying the strings that pull at your heart, but it has fluttered up ever since you had entrusted him with your concoction, grown stronger still, when he gave you a clandestine wink to inform you that everything had arrived safely and where it should be. 

Cordelia nudges you beneath the table. “Did you hear a word he just said to you?”

You frown. “Tristan didn’t say anything.”

“No, but father did. You are to begin a courtship with the young Lord Cathcart.”

Your heart drops to your feet, hand clutching onto your sister’s before you glance up to see a wide-smiled Lady Cathcart, her spider-like fingers curled around the king’s biceps. 

Just then your father lays his eyes upon you and smirks. “Is that not wonderful news? And your knight will be there to protect your honour throughout this. Before we know it, there will be more grandchildren roaming the world.” That last part he directs at his mistress, with a beyond disturbing wiggle of his brows. 

You look at Cordelia and Tristan, both of them blank faced. 

Benji swirls the wine in his cup from side to side and nobody speaks for an awfully long amount of time.

The other advisors at the table do not seem thrilled either. 

House Cathcart births unpleasant people, to put it quite kindly. Their Lady was a great example, an insufferable little parasite, clearly seeking to fuck her way into power and sparing nothing but ill-temper and rude words for anybody she does not view as important. 

She is an embodiment of sleaze, if one that has been blessed with wonderful teeth and hair. 

Her younger brother is not much different. You had heard the ladies of the court whisper about his disgusting lack of manners. 

“Father, might I remind you that I have many offers from much…,” you pause, contemplating whether you would actually like to speak your mind. “Well much more esteemed birth.”

Apparently your father has had enough of your face because he no longer makes the effort to look at you. “And yet, you have not enticed them. You will begin your travels to visit him tomorrow.” 

You desperately try to think of a young nobleman you would prefer to spend time with, yet your mind goes blank, your brain one continuous noise of a warhorn being sounded.

You let go of your sister’s hand and scrape your knife across your plate as the conversation resumed, occasional attempts of naming other highborn heirs, perhaps even from another kingdom.

Sure, you think to yourself, might as well remove me from the only home I know. Might as well let me be a cattle to be bred an ocean away.

“Your highness, I believe it is time for your dance lesson,” Benji says. 

Your head snaps up. It is not. 

He nods, the slightest bit, and then turns away. 

You are not certain, but you think the apples of his cheeks are tinted light pink. 

“I must be excused,” you say, as Benji already pulls out your chair for you. 

Cordelia and Tristan exchange a look that you wholeheartedly ignore and yet nobody else bats an eye.

A third-born daughter’s daily schedule is not of importance to them. 

In long strides you walk away from them all, with every inch of distance you can feel your heart cinching, breath shortening and by the time you’re inside the castle, you cannot see straight ahead.

“Hold on one moment, Princess,” he says and grabs your arm to push you down a narrow hallway, his arm around your waist the moment you are hidden from plain sight. Gratefully you lean your whole body weight against his, until you are back in your kitchen. 

With a swift movement you are sat on your chair, hunched over desperately trying to get air into your lungs, even stale and wet dungeon air, tainted by the stark smell of clandestine medicinal practice.

But you cannot. 

Your mother had died shortly after birthing you. Cordelia had struggled through every pregnancy, growing weaker with each child planted in her body and then clawing its way out. 

You think you might hurl. 

“Princess..,” Benji carefully mumbles. 

You try to see him through the blind panic and fury that clouds your mind but your eyes won’t focus, horrible images of what would happen to you. 

“I can’t breathe,” you gasp. 

He kneels in front of you, his hands clutching at yours. “Yes you can.” 

His voice is laced with uncertainty, as though he doesn’t believe his own words.

Firmly you shake your head. “No, get me out.”

He drags his thumb across the soft palm of your hand. “Out of where?”

Another sharp gasp. 

Here, this palace, this family, this kingdom, this world. 

“My corset,” you all but whimper. 

There is a moment of hesitation, where you cannot hear or feel anything but your own soft cries. 

Then he gets up and walks behind you. 

“My god, this thing is built like a trap,” he mumbles, rough fingers fiddling with your bodice. 

You might have laughed at that. 

It takes him long to help you out of it, revealing the fishbone corset, your hands now clawing at your neckline, praying for some sign of sweet release. 

He is taking forever, or maybe he is not but you have lost all sense of time and space.

Finally there is the sound of a barbaric rip and you are left in your linen shift, panting heavily.

You slump forward and bury your head in your hands. 

Unwilling to be seen, or look him in the eyes - eyes that are undoubtedly looking at you with nothing but pity. 

“Princess..,” he whispers again. You can feel one rough hand through the thin fabric as he circles around to your front.

You shake your head, like a child. “He can’t do this. I’m not ready.”

A soft touch against your wrists, softer than you had thought possible from him. “You’re a witch. Just put poison in his wedding night supper,” he says. 

You snort, an ugly sound, much unlike your usual demeanour. “You-” Hiccup. “Speak treason, Ser Benjicot.”

Carefully he interlinks your hands into one and pulls them from your face. Your forehead hurts from where you dug your nails into it. “You’re smart for a capital girl, you will manage.”

His face is kind and warm, a desire to make you smile clearly etched into the twinkle of his eyes.

“I won’t kill my husband. He is not at fault for my father’s failures.” 

Benji huffs. “And I am the one speaking treason.”

You hiccup again. “He is the king but he is my father no less. And he is horrible at both.”

His fingers sweep hair out of your face, unthinkingly, quickly. “His children turned out quite well either way. A benevolent queen, an honourable heir to the throne and a witch.”

Now he manages to make you smile lightly. “My god, what must a lady do for you to not tease her.”

“I would rather not say,” he answers, and you know there is a double meaning there but you don’t know how to decipher it. You have studied the human body but some things will lie beyond your book knowledge.

Until your bedding ceremony, that is.

Your face drops again and you lean back. “Have a seat somewhere, would you? I do not wish for you to crouch in front of me.” 

“I am your knight. Kneeling comes with this duty.”

You huff. “Does ripping up royal corsetry and sneaking potions into town also go along with it?”

He scrapes the chair across the floor and plops down beside you. 

The two of you sit, and though your eyes are set on the cauldron in the corner of the room, you know he is looking at you.

Perhaps he wants you to say that you feel better?

You decidedly do not, this is after all your deepest fear becoming reality.

Benji nudges the tip of his boots against your calf. 

Everything between the two of you is contrasting. 

“We will find a way. The counsel is against his choice as well, he may be the king but he is not a king at heart and soul.”

A deep sigh escapes you, hiccups slowly fading away.

 “Mayhaps he will be overthrown by the time we reach Lord Cathcart’s castle,” Benji adds. 

Would you want it that way? 

Yes. 

Yes you would.

You would not want him dead, you think, but you want Tristan to rule. You want your father to desert the throne and leave it for somebody capable and dignified. 

Somebody who has honour. 

“Won’t you cheer up, little witch. You still have Marion and me to come with you.” 

A hand flies to your mouth. Marion. “She won’t come. And even if she would like to, I will not let her. Her love won’t let her. Her life is here and her family and friends.” Your hands claw at each other, nervously digging into tender flesh. 

Benji hums. The weight of his oath must be a harsh burden to carry. He will never have a choice but to go where you go.

“I am sorry,” you whisper. “For it all. I know you hate it here.”

He shrugs and grabs your hand. To prevent you from scratching it bloody, you’re certain. 

“I am a man of honour and strength. I suppose it is best put to use for your protection. And the occasional smuggling and destruction of dresses far more expensive than my pay.”

You snort. “It didn’t suit me anyways. Made me pale.”

“Told you. I like red best.” 

He winks. “Like the colour of your cheeks turn sometimes.”

With little force you shove him, your fingers still securely interlinked. “Watch it, I’ll begin sobbing again, my knight.” 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You had bid your goodbyes to everyone at dinner tonight.

A courtship, successful or not, could take many moons and this one is nearly set in stone to end in marriage. Your return home, for now, is a distant dream that you can’t put faith into.

Surprisingly many people had grieved over your farewell. 

Much of the courtiers and even more of the staff insisted that they would miss you. 

Cordelia did not leave your side the entire evening and repeated many times that marriage is less scary than one might expect and that for the most time, your husband would likely leave you be. 

Even Tristan, ever so calm at all times, had looked as though he might like to tie you up if that meant you got to stay and you couldn’t help the deep gratitude you felt for Benji’s consistent, calm presence next to you.

Though you couldn’t claim that you were not deeply embarrassed over how dishevelled he had seen you today, even after he had assured you multiple times that he did not care, as you snuck through the secret passageway back to your room, his cape draped around you. 

Marion had wept the most; her waterlike, bendy fingers preparing your hair for dinner, achieving perhaps her finest work yet. 

It seems sadness is the greatest motivator of the human mind, tears streaming down her face and yet leaving your hair in neat braids. She had apologised many times, that she could not go on this journey with you and that she would likely forever miss your generosity, something you felt she was inflating greatly. 

After all, she had risked her position and even her life every single time she snuck you in and out of the castle walls. 

Your fingers cramp around your quill.

Over the course of your meal, you have come up with a plan once again, though this one might be the most idiotic one yet.

You know that almost everyone with blood rushing through their veins inside this castle is opposed to this marriage and maybe there could be another way to get out of it, but you know it would take long and you will not let your father torture you in the mean time.

Droplets of ink stain your wrist as you scratch forcefully across the parchment. 

You are not dense. You had never tried to trick yourself into believing your betrothal would occur from a love match but you had always been able to comfort yourself with the fact that at the very least you were to do something useful to your family line.

Marry into another important house, a house of wealth or with a strong army. Something that would strengthen the crown and its representation in the kingdom. 

Colour drains from your face each time you think about this fate. 

You’d be ridiculed in the history books, married off to a Baron, the lowest of ranks anybody in your line had married into, ever since the claiming of the throne.

No, you must leave and you must do so quickly. 

Your finished letter remains on your pillowcase. 

Wrapped in your velvet robe you peek out of your door into the hallway where the nightwatch had taken Benjicot’s place a few hours ago. 

“Ser Lawrence. Ser Timon. I wish to not be disturbed during my last night in the castle. Any and all visitors must immediately be sent away,” you tell them.

“Yes, your highness.”

Satisfied you go to lock the door, but then quickly remember. 

“Ser Timon, please tell your cousin that he must reapply the bandage and salve everyday.” 

And with that you turn your back.

You switch your robe out for the most simple dress you own.

While Ser Rodrick had still been around, Marion had kept a better disguise hidden in one of the trunks beneath your bed, but when the change of protector was imminent, she had taken it back home, in fear of being caught. 

You slip into a hooded cloak, in hopes it might do more to keep your identity hidden, wrap a satchel filled with jewellery around your waist, in hopes to pay for travels.

You wish you could take your horse.

Fury is a good horse, in your humble opinion, the most empathetic and perfect companion one can ask for.

Weirdly, she reminds you of Benji, now that you contemplate it.

She looks scary; tall and black and when you had gotten her she was unruly and stubborn but that quickly faded.

A terrifying thought crosses your mind suddenly.

What would happen to Benji? If you were to disappear, would he have to die for it?

You halt in the middle of your room.

No.

That is not a price you are willing to pay for your freedom. You could not in good conscience be responsible for such an atrocity.

Maybe they would let him off the hook? After all there had been a deal made with the Blackwoods, perhaps his family would revolt? 

Would your father have his head still? 

And in mere seconds your last bubble of hope had burst and rained onto you in glittering glass shambles. 

Benji was tough to crack and a little rebellious but you won’t have his blood on your hands forever.

You gaze out the window, see the distant sea. 

But you could still sneak out. For one final night. Check on your medicine. Maybe you could find a tavern to spend time in.

Marion had always said that she loved nothing more than to dance with the common folks, telling never-ending stories of how much lively the music is than at your royal balls, how free and funny the people are.

Yes, you might not run away but for once in your life you would simply do what you wanted to do. 

You pull up your hood and slip into the narrow staircase behind your bookcase. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The streets were bustling, even after nightfall, people chatting away, merchants yelling from every corner, sounds of life buzzing in your ear.

You are smiling, weaving through the crowd. A stranger had handed you a daffodil, proclaiming his inn had the best hunter’s stew in all the kingdom.

Another had told you she could read your future from the palm of your hand, which you of course deemed ridiculous, but had let her do anyway.

She told you that you were destined for a great love. Ridiculous, but endearing in a peculiar way. 

Now you were hoping to find that tavern that Marion so loved to frequent. It was called duckling, or something to that extent. An odd name for a place where people go to drink and celebrate. 

But your feet carry you still, steps lighter than air. You had noticed that your boots were a tad too white, and had promptly walked through every possible puddle to blend in. 

It was exhilarating. You know your privileges and you know them well, but while all the rest of the nobles question how the people of lower birth could live like this, you wonder how you could have gone your life without this. 

Every path revealed something exciting. 

When you had snuck out with Marion, she had dragged you through quiet back alleys, to avoid as many people as possible, but now you wonder if she wasn’t also trying to keep you from being drawn into this magical world you are witnessing now.

A shoulder bumps you and you stumble a bit. 

“Oi watch where you’re going,” came a gruff voice and you almost want to laugh, heart melting at the vulgarity of it, but you have the good sense to not.

“I’m sorry, good man.” 

He grunts and goes to move along but then something catches his eye and he stops.

“Where you from?” He asks.

He has a strong build, tall and burly. You try not to let that worry and flash him a smile. “Arbormere.” 

The man steps forward. You don’t step back. Marion and Ser Rodrick had drilled into you for a long time, that fear is one’s worst enemy. 

“Are ya, now? I ain’t ever met a girl from over there.”

You shrug. “I am their queen’s handmaiden. She is visiting her family,” you lie, quick as the wind and then you decide that you should not remain in one place for so long, shuffling to step past him. 

He blocks the way and before you know it he’s grabbed your arm, with enough force to make you shriek in surprise.

You squirm beneath his grip, attempting to meet the eye of a passerby desperately but nobody seems to notice this scene playing out. 

“Let me go,” you order, with as much authority as you can muster.

With too much ease, you are ripped into a side street. It smells rotten and you close your eyes when the back of your head meets the cobbled wall. 

“Pretty girls like ya’self shouldn’t roam foreign streets,” he says. His breath smells acidic as it fans across the side of your face. 

“Help,” you croak out but you know it is of no use. There isn’t a soul here to hear you in this dark corner.

He squishes your face between one hand, thumb deep in the soft of your cheek. 

“Somebody should teach you a lesson, aye.”

“Yeah and somebody should teach you some fucking manners, you fucking cunt,” a voice rings. 

Benji.

Your face is freed from his grip and you rub where it hurts. 

“Piss off, lad. Ain’t none of your business,” the man tells him.

Something unfamiliar flashes across Benji’s face, a shadow of something sinister. 

Bloody Ben, you think. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” he growls through clenched teeth.

He laughs at Benji, his arms crossed. “I’m not gonna fucking say it twice, boy. Piss–”

He can’t finish his sentence before Benji is on him, a disgusting sound of bones cracking as his fist connects with his nose. 

You yelp, a hand pressed to your mouth in an instant. This stranger is considerably larger than Benjicot, who himself could not be described as a slender man. 

The pair of them tumble to the ground and with every hit your sworn protector takes, you wince, as though you were feeling them yourself. 

Blood sprays across their faces, their hands, the hem of your shirt and you wish you could avert your gaze. 

Something glitters. 

“Knife,” you scream. “He has a knife.”

But Benji has already registered it. 

In a movement so smooth and quick that it was barely noticeable, the knife is stuck in the man’s hand.

He wails, guttural and gory and tries to crawl back. 

Your knight gets up from the ground, towers above him. “Get the fuck away.” Then, in an act so raw you are almost taken aback, he spits on him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the stranger staggers away, as fast as his delirious self can. 

There is a sickening swirl in your stomach and for a moment you think you will cry, but then good sense wins and you leap toward Benji.

Panic strains your voice. “Are you well?” You ask, gently inspecting his face. His nose is bleeding profusely. It stains your fingers, streams down to your wrist, thin red streaks across your skin and white linen sleeves. 

He nods. Distance clouds his eyes but then it is almost like he snaps back to this world. 

He flicks your hands away, and searches your face, the way you had done his. 

You grimace. He is clearly in much worse condition. 

“You fucking idiot. Don’t fucking ever frighten me like this again,” he whispers. 

“Do you know what could have happened? What you look like?”

He raises your hands to eye level. “Your hands are soft, you’ve not done work with them ever. Your hair shimmers, you walk like a fucking fairie and you reek of rose and lavender.”

With each word his voice raises to a whisper-shout. “Do you know how lucky you are that you weren’t recognised? How lucky you are that I got here in time?”

The tips of your ears run hot. “I just wanted-”

“What? To run away and die in a ditch?” 

You shake your head fervently. “No! I was going to return, I just forgot to rip up the letter! I didn’t mean to-”

He scoffs. “You’re lucky I was the one to find that thing. You’re the luckiest girl in the world, in fact.” 

Now there will likely be many moments in the future where you regret this moment but you cannot help yourself. “You call this situation lucky? I am lucky that I will be shipped off to be fucked by a disgusting little man for the rest of my life, be forced to bear his children, do as he pleases me to do, until the day I die? You think this is lucky? I would rather spend my time working every hour of every day of every week of every moon until my bones fail me.”

Benjicot comes even closer, the tips of your noses are almost touching. “Do not ever do something like this again. I will give you as much freedom as I can, but I suppose you did not plan to spend a night of freedom being defiled in some dark alley. Don’t you ever do this to me again.”

To him. 

“Understood?” 

He has engulfed your senses, speaking seems too hard a chore now. You nod. Is it normal for a knight to chastise his princess like this? 

“Good,” he whispers, but you don’t let him get away. 

You use the tissue tucked into your cleavage and dab at his nose. Crimson red stains the colour of house Aprikate. ��I think I should set your nose.” Your voice is faint, like you’re worried you might scare him off, like some jittery woodland creature. 

“Hmm.” 

Your hand pulls away and your eyes lock. You swallow thickly. That new sensation haunts you again. 

Benji’s hand curls around the small of your back. 

This feels dangerous. You can’t bring yourself to end the moment. 

He does it for you.

“Let’s return to the castle.”

The air feels tense, new and vibrant the entire way home.

taglist:

@dancingbaek

@jhepolie

@knight-of-flowerss

@majoso12

@rebeccawinters

@poppyflower-22

@nixtape-foryou

@accidentpronedork

@xlittlefiend

@vqmpyrecult