#i started growing my brows back but i miss these smol ones already

[atiny-dazzlinglight]

Studio Session

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader x Jongho

Genre: Mature

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Facefucking, threesome, a slight form of voyeurism if you squint, slight choking and cum swallowing

Notes: This is a joint birthday gift for my two sweeties Tay ( @kimnamshiks​ ), who is deeply in love with the Apple breaker Jongho and Angel ( @angel0taiyo​ ) who loves the smol and bitey Hongjoong. I hope you both like this!~ 

It was one of those rare quiet days in the building, which would always be unusual with the majority of the group being loud and rambunctious as they are. But you managed to come on a day that was particularly calm and that might be due to the fact that they actually had a day without crammed packed schedules, so they decided to spend their day resting at the dorms or decided to go out for once.

But of course, your boyfriend and leader of Ateez rarely knew what resting was. 

So here you are laying down on the couch that was in the studio of his that Hongjoong was working on a bunch of instrumentals that would ultimately be used for songs in later comebacks. Hongjoong actually prefers when you were here with him because he feels more at ease with you in the room, it was a chance for you two to be around each other since he stayed in there pretty long and you were always the perfect alarm clock to let him know to go rest and sleep when he stayed in there to the early morning. 

But for now it was just 5pm and you could tell by Hongjoong’s furrowed brows that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. 

“ Don’t overwork yourself today okay?” You said loud enough for him to take the headphones off his head to put them down and look back at you.

“ I’ll try not to stay in here too late. I have something that I need the boy’s to record, but only if they want to because we could do it tomorrow. It would just save some time for them if it’s done today.” Hongjoong explained as he directed his gaze back to the monitor in front of him. 

“ So you're inviting more people to our little date Joongie?” You mock as you get up from the couch to stand behind him, gentle hands rubbing his stiff shoulders, making him relax back into the chair and on you. “ This is supposed to be a special time to relax and see each other.” You fake pout as you lean over to see him.

Hongjoong turned around in his chair to fully face you and pull you down onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands rested on your waist. “ You already know how much I appreciate you being here with me when I work. I know I’m not the best boyfriend cause we can’t always go out to cafes or other types of dates because of my schedule, but these little moments like this means a lot to me.” Hongjoong pulls you down to give a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“ I already knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with an idol, especially what would happen if I started dating one as well.” You giggle as you lean back in to kiss his forehead, then his nose and right back to his lips to give a deeper kiss that Hongjoong couldn’t help but enjoy. You could tell by the way his hands gripped your waist a bit more. 

You might have been a bit antsy since it’s been so long since you and Hongjoong had any moments like this, but kissing Hongjoong was somewhat hypnotic and impossible for you to pull away. The only thing stopping you from kissing him longer was for the fact that your body needed oxygen.  So, when you did pull away, you immediately went to his neck to place kisses on the column of his throat.

“ Baby you know I have work to do.” He mumbled as he tried to pull you off of him.

“ Why can’t we play for a little bit more? We don’t have to take that long.” You tried to convince him, but his hand was quick to tickle your sides to make you stop and erupt into giggles.

“ If you let me finish this first, I promise that I’ll take care of you properly when I’m done. Is that a deal?” Hongjoong tries to negotiate. You didn’t really want to interfere with his work so you reluctantly agreed to Hongjoong as you climbed off of his lap and returned back to the couch. You gave a fake pout that only made him smile at you as he turned back around in his chair and reached for his phone to text the rest of the boys to see if they could possibly record today.

From what Hongjoong told you, Only three of the boys said that they could come by today and I could tell that it was more than what your boyfriend was expecting. 

So as you were laying on the couch, you watched some of the boys enter and leave the studio. 

The first one to come by was San, who was quick to notice you and immediately give you a hug upon arrival. Never denying the affectionate boy’s hugs, you hugged him back before he went over to Hongjoong to talk about what he needed him to do. He had San sing a few pieces here and there and when he played them back to make sure they both liked it and had San on his way, giving you another hug before heading back to the dorms to play games.

The other two came together as one of them ended up leaving early from their previous activities to come here. So in came Jongho and Yunho.

He had Yunho get in the studio first to sing a few adlib pieces because they knew how much Atiny loved those growls and other sounds he made in their songs. So while Hongjoong worked with the tall man, Jongho came over and sat next to you. 

“ Hi Jongho, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” You said as he turned his attention away from his Hyungs, “ Last time you were in crutches, but you look better now. I was worried.” 

You watched as his face became almost sheepish as he raised an arm to rub the back of his neck, your eyes subtly glancing at the muscles underneath his shirt before quickly looking back at his face. His handsome face at that.

“ Yeah, I healed pretty well and now I feel better than ever.” Jongho smiled and it did make your cheeks grow a bit warm. The smile slightly struck some strings in your heart but you ignored it.

“ Well of course you would, you're a strong boy anyways Jongho. I feel like you’ll always bounce back.” You said as Jongho gave an awkward laugh.

“ I’m not that strong now. The other members have more strength than me.” Jongho argues with a chuckle before it is cut short with a gentle hand on his thigh. It simply stayed there and didn’t move besides a few flexes of your fingers.

“ I can literally feel the toned muscles underneath my fingers Jongho,” you giggled lightheartedly as you stared down at his muscles thighs, cased under sweatpants before looking back up at him, still an innocent look to your eyes despite the few thoughts that came to mind, “ I’m quite sure of the strengthen your body has.”

You watched him visibly gulp, a movement he tried to make subtle, but your watchful eyes caught the action. You liked this version of Jongho. This one seemed entertaining. So why not play a little more.

Your hand raised off his thighs and went to his arm, attempting to wrap around the solid muscle that was built there from him working out, “ And look at the muscles here. You could throw or pick me up without much trouble because of these right here.” You teased on as you could feel Jongho squirm just the tiniest.

But the comment that left his lips had surprised you nonetheless as well. 

“ Well your body is pretty nice too…” 

You would have missed it if you weren't so close to his body as is. But your mind registered those words from him and it made you involuntarily swallow as well because you just didn’t expect it from his mouth.

“ You really think so?” You asked, wanting to hear him go on. This was a rare chance between you and him and your mind simply wanted to hear more from the younger boy besides you.

“ Yeah...your body is nice too.” Jongho's eyes drifted down the shirt you wore down to the leggings that clung to your legs, before his eyes came back up to look at you, watching him the whole time as he got embarrassed by being caught.

“ What about it is nice?” You pushed on as, unconsciously licking your bottom lip while talking to him.

“Well…” 

“ Jongho, you can come over and record now!” Hongjoong shouted back without turning his head as you could see Yunho put the headphones down and get ready to leave the booth.

Jongho abruptly got up and looked back at you before answering your boyfriend, “ Here I come hyung.” He immediately walked in the booth as Yunho walked out and grabbed his things. 

“ I’m heading back to the dorm so I’ll see you all later.” The tall man waved with a warm smile and you returned it as he left out of the studio. 

You glanced back over to see Jongho calming down enough to get ready to sing and Joong instructing him on what he wants him to do.

You stared at Jongho, despite him not being able to see your hungry stare because you knew you had him. You had the boy right in the palm of your hands and he was snatched away before you could make your final move. 

Hongjoong knew that before this relationship that you had your eyes set on another member of his, but he didn’t particularly care because you ended up choosing him in the long run. He always joked about how he tried to guess which member it was based off of a random interactions, but ultimately let it go. He would occasionally tease and joke about inviting said member one night to bed with him, but you always sheepishly denied the idea, even though you were quite eager for it. 

You glanced at the door before standing up and locking it. You wanted them both to yourself for the night.

You walked over to Hongjoong, who was simply listening to the maknae and telling him which parts to correct and whatnot as you slowly pulled his chair back, startling him as he watched you push him back enough for you to get on the floor between his legs.

“ Baby What are yo-”

“Shush.” You pulled at his sweatpants before looking back up at him,” Lift your hips.” 

“ I would love this but Jongho is still here.” Hongjoong mumbled despite the twitch in his pants from his cock. You smiled as you gave another tug at his sweats, happy to see him lift his hips as he went back to focus on Jongho in the booth. You had pulled his boxers and sweatpants down to his knees and made yourself comfortable as you palmed his soft length, watching it grow in your hand as it stood tall and proud.

You leaned forward, licking from the bottom and dragging your tongue up his length until it reached the head, placing soft kisses to his tip. Hongjoong relaxed more as he listened to Jongho sing the lyrics for the new song, sighing when he felt the tip of his cock slide pass your lips. 

“ Hyung was that part good?”  Jongho asked from the booth before Hongjoong pressed a button to project his voice into the surrounding space of the booth.

“ Yeah that part was good. I’ll have you sing these last two parts and then you can go.” Hongjoong kept his voice steady as you went deeper, the tip tickling the back of your throat as you moaned low, so Jongho couldn’t pick up the sound. 

Jongho gave the okay sign with his fingers before Hongjoong managed to set up the next piece for Jongho to sing. He pressed play and relaxed in his chair again with a groan.

“Fuck your mouth feels so good.” Hongjoong groaned as a hand went down to entangle in your hair, guiding your mouth on his length as he relaxed a little too much before realizing that he had to pay attention to Jongho’s voice. This was for his group's album. An official album that was supposed to be published and distributive to his lovely fandom. He needs to at least focus on something like this.

But with the way a mouth like yours worked him, it was quite the challenge for him to focus. A hand cupping his balls, massaging them while your tongue glided the underside of his shaft every time you went up and down on his length. Hongjoong groans became frequent but he tried to look forward at the booth and watch the younger sing effortlessly, unknowing of the sin that was happening right outside of the room.

You moved faster as you took in your boyfriend’s length, reaching down to rub yourself through your leggings as you loved watching Hongjoong try to keep his composure all the while he tried to work.

This isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this before to Hongjoong, blowing him off as he worked in the studio, but it is the first time that you have done it while Jongho or anyone was in the booth. But it definitely added some more excitement to the whole thing for you because you couldn’t wait till Jongho came out the booth. Just imagining what would happen when he sees this scene in front of him and you could literally feel yourself get even wetter. 

You moaned around his cock as you glanced up at him, watching him try his hardest to focus but the second he looked down, you knew you had him. His eyes had a fire behind them and you couldn’t help but match it. Hongjoong bit his bottom lip as he stared down at the sight before him. He bucked his hips into your mouth and he could see the strained smirk on your lips as you let him slowly raise his hips into your mouth.

Hongjoong almost didn’t notice the song ending until he reached a hand up to press the button to speak to him. He tried his best to not sound breathless at this point. “ That was good. Can you do one last part for me?”

“ Yeah I can Hyung. Just play the track.” Jongho says as he waits for Hongjoong to play it, but if only he could see Hongjoong lounged back in his seat, his hips gradually raising up and down, as you just allowed it. Hongjoong started to get so comfortable that he had Jongho standing in the booth for several seconds until he reached his keyboard and managed to play the right track without really paying attention. 

The moment he did so, he placed both of his hands on the side of your face to hold in place and literally face fucked you in his seat. Hongjoong wasn’t holding his groans in anymore as he literally started to have a faster pace. He tried his best to pay attention to Jongho, but he couldn’t anymore. Your mouth felt too good and he couldn’t hold himself back. His head was leaned back on the chair he was in, his hips were off the seat so he could thrust into your mouth. You gagged maybe once throughout the whole thing, but you didn’t care. You were way too turned on by it. 

Watching your boyfriend fuck your throat with abandon all while the other man that you crushed on was just a few feet away just made a spike in your libido.

Both of you so gone in each other that you both didn’t realize how the track stopped playing and how Jongho had stopped singing. You both didn’t even realize Jongho slowly stepping out of the booth to witness the scene in front of him. The boy didn’t make a sound or if he did, neither of you heard it at first.

It wasn’t until you glanced up to look over to your side to see Jongho standing there; his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open at the scene but glancing down made you smile as you saw the print of his cock in his sweatpants. 

You tapped Hongjoong’s thigh before pulling off of his cock, spit connecting the two before your tongue swiped it away. Hongjoong finally glanced over to see Jongho was out of the booth. Unable to really explain this scene in front of him, he just sat there with his cock covered in spit and throbbing with need. 

You pushed Hongjoong’s chair back to come up off the floor, glancing at Jongho with a heated stare that could have made him combust, you giggled before staring him in the face before sliding off your tights and panties in one go, sitting down on Hongjoong’s lap, surprising them both. Hongjoong’s voice was caught in his throat as you had a hand wrapped around his cock, lining up with your entrance, all the while staring down Jongho as you seated yourself down on his length.

Hongjoong’s head lolled back onto the chair and you bit your lip to stop the moan from leaving your throat. He glanced back up at Jongho, still standing in front of you two, sweats looking a bit tight on him. 

You waved your finger over and told him to come closer and he slowly walked over to you. You had him in front of you and tugged at his sweats before looking up at him. You could see him trying to figure out what he should do. I mean you did all of this without telling either of the two men and just hope and pray that it would work in your favor. But with the look in Jongho’s eyes, you were prepared to let go and apologize for all of this.

That was until Hongjoong opened his mouth. 

“ So it was Jongho who gained your attention before we started dating? I wasn’t quite expecting that.” Hongjoong’s voice was playful as he leaned up to look at Jongho. “ Did you know she had a crush on both of us before we started dating Jongho? To add, it seems like this crush of hers is still going strong because she just couldn’t wait to do all of this while you were still in the booth.” 

Jongho’s eyes grew wide as he stared in disbelief, glancing down at you before looking back at his leader. 

“ Do you want to join?” Hongjoong asked him, moving his hips slightly made you squirm as you nearly forgot he was inside you. “ I’ve always joked with her about letting whoever her other crush was to join in on a session with us and what better time would it be for you join.” He giggles in that way that always makes your heart race. 

“ Hyung are you sure about this?” Jongho just had to be sure. His throat felt dry, the back of his neck sweaty and his cock wouldn’t stop throbbing in his pants. Even if he said no and walked away, he can’t walk out with the boner he has. For fucks sake, he wore grey sweatpants. They’ll see everything.

“ Well my slutty baby is clearly perfectly okay with this and I have no mine sharing her for today, so it all comes down to you.” Hongjoong explained, ghosting a hand under your shirt to grope your chest, making you sigh.

You both watched Jongho weigh his options, the silence almost unbearable because you were starting to get uneasy by it. Your hand was still resting at Jongho’s waistband of his sweats and you slowly pulled your hands away, expecting a no, until your wrist was grabbed by Jongho’s hands. You looked up at him and you could see the slight pinkish tint in his cheeks as he struggled to keep eye contact with you.

“ I’ll stay. I don’t think I have the strength to leave here right now anyways.” Jongho mumbles, glancing down at himself and you follow his gaze to thing in front of you. Your hand moved to palm his already hardened cock and he sighed. You palmed him for a while before reaching for his waistband again and pulling them down, along with his boxers. His length slinging up into your face and you tried your hardest not to have your jaw hanging open.

Now your boyfriend may be short, but he still had a pretty impressive length on him, but one thing that Jongho had that Hongjoong didn’t was girth. 

Jongho’s cock not only looked like it would make your jaw ache, but it definitely would give a good stretch if he were inside. You wrapped a hand around his length, slightly astonished at how your fingers couldn’t wrap around his cock, even if you tried. You leaned your mouth forward, sticking on your tongue to lick at the head. Keeping eye contact with him the whole time as you pushed your lips past the head, watching his face for every little reaction.

Hongjoong decided to stop being still and slowly raise his hips up into you, catching you off guard as you felt him move inside of you, but you tried to keep your focus on Jongho. Slowly but surely, you slid Jongho further down your throat and at the same time, Hongjoong would thrust up into a little bit harder while picking up speed.

You were literally supporting yourself by holding onto Jongho’s thighs.

Watching Jongho’s reactions to your mouth was priceless to you. He tried his hardest to not make too much sounds and you couldn’t blame him, you all were dangerously fucking in the boy’s place of work. The door may be locked,but if their manager so happened to stop by, he has a key to the room. So here Jongho was, one hand at the nape of your neck while the other was holding your hand that was latched onto his waist. Jongho’s hips kept bucking forward whenever you licked at the underside of his cock. When you looked up at him, the corners of your lip revealed a smile, hoping he understood what you wanted him to do. You moved your hands off of Jongho’s waist and had them resting on both of Hongjoong’s knees as he was focused on the tight heat that surrounded him.

Jongho watched your actions and he wasn’t sure at what you wanted him to do. Well that was a lie. He had a good guess of what you wanted him to do, but for some reason he wasn’t sure if he should. Even so, he would only know if he tried and that’s what he did. 

He brought his other hand to your head, watching your face the whole time as he bucked his hips into your mouth, forcing his length to go deeper down your throat and the only sign of him knowing that it was okay by the slight upturn of the corners of your mouth once more.

So here you were, bouncing on Hongjoong’s cock while Jongho’s was hitting the back of your throat repeatedly and you were loving it. Your moans barely slipping pass your lips as you focused more on the ache in your jaw and trying to prevent yourself from gagging as you swallowed Jongho’s length.

His brows were knitted, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his hips moved a bit faster. The change made you gag a bit but you were loving it nonetheless.

Hongjoong was slamming up inside you and you felt your body shaking a bit from the force and the impending orgasm that was sure to come.

“ Fuck you feel so good.” Hongjoong groaned, sweat covering his forehead as he held a firm grip on your hips that would definitely leave a mark. Every time he pulled out, your insides would squeeze him each time and it drove Hongjoong closer and closer to cumming. 

You knew your boyfriend was close by how his fingers flexed on your waist. You tapped Jongho’s thigh three times to get him to pull back, knowing very well that if you waited any longer that you would have to worry about a mess that would be a pain to clean up afterwards. So you pulled off of Hongjoong and fell to your knees once more before he could say anything, swallowing his length. Tasting yourself and the precum that came out of the tip as you bobbed your head, glancing up at him just time for his hips to thrust up and freeze, cumming pouring down your throat. Hongjoong stayed that way for a few more seconds before pulling away with a sigh. 

You cleaned the corners of your mouth with your thumb, before swallowing and sending your boyfriend a smile that made him chuckle. 

“ Don’t leave Jongho like that. Go make him feel good too baby.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

You turned back around and saw Jongho standing there, his sweats at his ankles and his cock still standing proud as it stayed covered with spit. Looking back up to Jongho as you both stared at each other, he was the one to walk forward and guide you towards the couch in the studio. 

Jongho sitting down first, legs spread and bending at the edge of the furniture, he pulled you down to sit on top of him with your back facing him. 

“ I always wanted to put you in this position, but you need to be relaxed.” He says as he grabs your legs, bringing them both into your chest. Confused but eager to know what he was doing to you, you stayed compliant as he reached an arm down to line up his own cock with your entrance and slowly guided you onto him. Bringing his arms back up, they crossed underneath your legs and his hands rested behind your neck.

“ I didn’t expect you to put her in that position now. I didn’t think our maknae was this perverted. I might have to go over there to keep her quiet if you're putting her in that position.” Hongjoong teased as he had already pulled his pants up and slowly made his way to get closer.

Still as confused as ever as you were there in that position, you were caught off guard when he used his legs to thrust up into you and with a sharp thrust like that, he easily hit your g-spot.

Oh you were screwed.

Jongho didn’t seem to care about their manager or any of the employees of KQ to hear them because it took every strength and fibers in you to stop yourself from letting out the loud moans and screams that were clawing at the back of your throat. Jongho didn’t set a slow pace as he just used those strong thighs of his to pound into you, slamming into your g-spot each time.

Jongho actually enjoyed how badly you stayed quiet, but struggled desperately to do so. Hongjoong had to lean in and kiss you because you just couldn’t keep your voice low enough, so he just swallowed your moans and stuffed his tongue in your mouth that just made you melt more into Jongho’s hold. With Hongjoong silencing you enough for no one to grow curious and stop by, the only thing now that could be heard was the squelching sounds that came from where you two were joined. You were practically leaking down onto him and off the couch and you couldn’t care less because this boy shouldn’t be fucking into you like this.

“ How is it Jongho? Does she feel as good as you imagined?” Hongjoong teased as he pulled his lips off of yours for a little bit to check on him.

“ She feels good. Noona feels so good.” Jongho panted as he stayed focused more on trying to get you to cum and ignore the orgasm that he was holding in for himself. He kissed  your back and tried to pick up more speed that you didn’t think was possible. Skin was slapping and you literally felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. It didn’t help that Hongjoong started to kiss you again and reached down to rub your clit fast as Jongho didn’t take any mercy on you. 

You felt your stomach start to coil and words seemed impossible to speak because you either couldn’t say them or it was just the possibility that it would turn into a scream instead. Your legs had gone from shaking every once in a while to frequently and Hongjoong took notice of it. Pulling away from your mouth, he quickly decided to use his hand to wrap around your throat and squeezed the sides to muffle any sounds from you.

“ You're close to cumming baby?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head to the side with a grin as you nodded your head really fast. “ Well you gotta speed up or go a bit harder if you won’t  her to cum Jongho.”

Hongjoong said and Jongho could hear the challenge in his voice and he was never one to back down from one, so he slammed up hard into you and he nearly knocked the breath out of you. You were already limp in his grasp and you just had to sit there and take it as your irgasm was close to tipping over. You just needed another little push and you would be there.

Thankfully, your boyfriend knew exactly what you needed as he leaned back in to kiss you and rubbed your clit hard and fast with his other hand and the sudden rough treatment had made your legs quake and tense up as your orgasm came rolling through you in waves and you were gratefully for the kiss as it muffled the loud cry that came from your throat. You were forced to ride out your orgasm as Jongho didn’t stop when you came, now worrying about his own. 

“ Hyung move her please. I’m gonna cum soon.” Jongho managed to say as he was trying his hardest to not cum inside her. His hyung didn’t say he could do that and he didn’t want to mess up any future chances of something like this again by cumming inside of her.

Jongho slowed down enough for Hongjoong to ease you off of him and onto the floor. Jongho quickly stood up, quickly jerking his cock and you opened your mouth wide, staring up at him with dazed eyes as he moved forward, jerking himself off until he came, right into your mouth with a groan. You waited until he was finished to swallow it all. You looked back up at him and he had this smile on his face before he sat back down on the couch, catching his breath. Hongjoong helped your sweaty and tired body up onto the couch as well. It was silent until Hongjoong was the one to break the silence.

“ So was that everything that you were hoping for?” He used some tissue to wipe the sweat off your forehead and face and rubbed your sore thighs soothingly. You nodded your head and gave a giggle before leaning on Jongho a bit. 

“ Yeah, he did a good job. He had me quite surprised.” You teased, but Jongho said nothing but you could hear his laugh.

“ Did you both think I would be terrible?” Jongho questioned as he looked at the both of you.

“ Well I didn’t know how you would be. I mean, you aren’t too fond of affection or things of the sorts.” You retorted with a grin.

“ Yeah, but you're different from the boys, so it’s fine if it’s from you.” Jongho mumbled and it made Hongjoong laugh.

“ You really do like her? I would have never known if it wasn’t for my baby getting so slutty in the studio. I told you to wait, but you just saw an opportunity to get us both huh?” 

“ Well yeah, but I wasn’t sure if Jongho would have been comfortable with this. I thought he was gonna say no.” You mumbled, feeling Jongho’s eyes on you.

“ I wouldn’t say no to you. I wouldn’t have gotten another chance like this if you weren’t as bold as you were.” Jongho said in a soft tone that made you turn your head to look at him. You both stared at each other before you turned your gaze away from his.

“ So what do you two want to do about this now?” Both you and Jongho turned to look at Hongjoong.

“ What do you mean Hyung?”

“ Well, I found this whole thing enjoyable and I also trust you a lot Jongho, so I wouldn’t mind doing this again at a later day. Hopefully somewhere more private, so I don’t have to stop her moans. Her moans are really pretty, but you really couldn’t hear them here.” Hongjoong says as he glances at you, making you blush.

“ Well if you're giving me the chance, I’m willingly to do this again because I really wanted to hear her moans too” Jongho says bluntly and you tried to make yourself smaller. They were talking about it so casually as if you weren’t there.

“ So would you be okay with that?” Hongjoong asked and you looked back up to see them both staring at you.

“ Huh?”

“ Hyung asked you if you would like me to join again?” Jongho states with a smile that didn’t seem right to see after he slammed into your g-spot repeatedly and came down your throat not even a full five minutes ago.

“ Well why wouldn’t I want to do this again?” You said and it made them laugh.

“ So how about next week after our rehearsal at your apartment?” Hongjoong said as you looked at him.

“ Oh that’s a perfect time for that to happen cause we’re free after that.” Jongho agreed as you turned back to look at him.

Oh what were you gonna do with these two?

~~~~

Taglist: @atiny-piratequeen @angel0taiyo @thereal-smolchild @kpopstreeanon @kesmonster @kimnamshiks​ @enchantedyeo​

[sugaabooga]

Sleep For Smiles

Pairing: Seokjin x nurse!Reader

Genre: Fluff, fluff, fluff, smol f2l!au

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: PG-13, some cursing, Seokjin’s lowkey being neglected

Synopsis: After another tiring night shift, you go back home to find Seokjin doing the most to make you crack a smile. -OR- “Can i request a jin x reader fluff where reader is super grumpy and tired all the time and jin wants her to smile uwu”

“EEUHH.”

“Whoa.”

You pause in your loud stretching and shoot a glare up at the doctor who stands leaning over the counter with an amused grin.

He flips back to the first page of his clipboard and drops his hands down behind his back, continuing to look at you with a playful glint in his eye.

“What are you looking at Min?” you hiss.

Yoongi shrugs. “Your ugly ass face, that’s what.”

You over exaggerate a gasp making the 3rd year resident roll his eyes and let out a snort.

“Have you eaten?” he asks with a disinterested expression.

You sigh, shaking your head and going back to analyze the patient’s orders you received from another resident just a few minutes ago. “One of the professors got some food from the convenience store, but I haven’t had a chance to eat it.”

Yoongi looks at you with an awkward smile. “Well, you should uh. . . eat soon.”

You hold back your laugh at the tsundere doctor that you’ve managed to befriend during your three years of working at Yonsei University Hospital and instead shoot him a grateful look to minimize his discomfort of somewhat outwardly showing his care for you.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you say, making his face slightly pink in embarrassment. He awkwardly coughs and holds up his clipboard, lightly smacking it against the counter.

“Well, I’ll be in the night room,” he states, an indirect way of telling you to come find him if there was an emergency.

You nod and send him away, going right back to organizing other patient records and making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. You sigh after what feels like a few hours but to your dismay, it’s only been thirty minutes.

Internally cursing the clock that reads 2am, you heave your lethargic body up from the comforts of your swivel chair and head over to the carts so you can replace a couple of patient’s IV drips.

Just a few more hours, you encourage yourself. A few more hours and your night shift for today will be over. It’ll be home at last.

//

“Babe?”

The voice that usually has the power to immediately form a smile on your face fails to do so as you trudge in through your door at 9 in the morning.

You hear feet shuffling as you haphazardly kick away your shoes and enter the living area of your small apartment. You fail to notice the sink empty of dirty dishes, coffee table clear of cups, plates, and wrappers, and your random clothes and objects previously strewn all over the floors, placed into a hamper or their original places.

Your boyfriend appears, head peeking out from behind the wall. 

“Well hello there,” you say in mild surprise, not having expected him to be over at your apartment so early in the morning.

Seokjin’s brows furrow before wrapping you in a brief hug. “Were you at the hospital this whole time?”

“Mmpgh,” you grunt in response, as he pulls away and you stumble past, heading straight to the couch. As you near the living room area, you realize his computer’s out, meaning that he must have been working before you came.

With a heavy sigh, you automatically collapse onto the couch. “Seokjin.”

“Hm?” Seokjin makes his way over to the couch as well, gently sitting on the sofa beside you. He gazes down at you with a soft smile, arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“M tired,” you mutter at which Seokjin chuckles, caressing your hair.

“I came early in the morning in hopes to cook us both breakfast,” he says. “I thought your night shift was two days from now.”

You weakly nod as your consciousness goes in and out. Curse Kim Seokjin and his warm, squishy body. You wrap your arms around Seokjin's waist, adjusting yourself into a more comfortable position.

“I had to cover for Mina,” you mumble. “You’re right though. I have another night shift, two days from now.”

Seokjin sighs, gently pushing away your hair from your mouth so you were laying down more comfortably. “Good job for another hard day at work.”

With all the energy left in you, you let out an empty laugh at your boyfriend’s encouraging words.

“Why did I go into nursing?” you sigh, detaching yourself from Seokjin and leaning back into the plush cushions of your sofa to fully lay down.

“Yeah, why did you?” Seokjin jokes, but you feel too tired to give him a solid kick in the shoulder as you normally would and quietly place your feet over his lap.

You groan, reaching over the coffee table to get a hold of the TV remote and turn on Netflix to continue rewatching your favorite medical drama of all time, Hospital Playlist.

You would think after another tiring night shift, you wouldn’t want to watch anything that has to do with your job. But contrary from that common belief, watching Hospital Playlist encouraged you to continue working hard at your job for the sake of humanity.

You silently play the fourth episode and turn up the volume, tossing the remote aside.

Seokjin slightly frowns at your lack of reaction and shuts his computer, wiggling over to you.

“Y/N~” Seokjin whines, form wrapping around your lifeless body.

“Hm?” you hum.

Seokjin sighs in content, your soft, warm body always reminding him of how you were his. His best friend was dating him. How wonderful was that?

“I love you,” he suddenly declares, plopping a kiss onto your cheek.

“I love you too,” you respond, drooping eyes honed onto the TV screen and not sparing him a glance.

Seokjin's nose slightly wrinkles at the lack of attention and chooses to glare at the surgery scene playing out before him.

For a while, Seokjin finds himself immersed in the drama. Then, a joke lights up his face.

“You know people say there’s some kind of foam stuck at hospitals?”

“Unbeliebbuble,” you cut off his joke, making Seokjin’s jaw slightly drop.

“You aren’t supposed to answer the joke!” he exclaims, making you snort at his overreaction.

“I’m sorry Jin,” you sigh with a playful glint in your eye as you reach up to ruffle his hair. “You said that one too many times.”

Seokjin huffs, removing himself from your body and propping up his computer. You seemed way tired than usual and Seokjin tried to think of ways to cheer you up. He hated seeing you so drained of energy.

Seokjin half-heartedly emails back his superiors, mind running a mile a minute in hopes to get an idea of how to cheer you up.

“Hey,” Seokjin starts off, turning to face you with a lunch suggestion on his tongue, then shuts up when your knocked out state is all he sees.

Seokjin suppresses his grin, quickly fiddling around for his phone and snapping a closeup picture of your mouth dangling open.

“Y/N,” he whispers. “Aren’t you going to wash up?”

No response.

Seokjin’s lip quirks up as you don’t even stir and spends a solid minute staring at your face. He sees how you’ve already taken your makeup off. Or how it came off with the long work hours you’ve had to suffer through. Despite your hair being slightly greasy and drool starting to dribble out the corner of your mouth, Seokjin  coos, wondering how he had managed to gain your romantic affection after those long years of a platonic relationship.

When you slightly twitch, Seokjin loudly snorts and carries you up from the couch, walking over to your bedroom. He changes you into your loungewear and throws your clothes into the hamper, tucking you in and closing the door shut.

Seokjin heads over to the kitchen, deciding to cook up lunch so when you wake up you wouldn’t resort to cup noodles.

A few hours later, a brief rustling makes you stir in your sleep as you continue drifting in and out of your dream. The sound of a door slamming shut jolts you out of your imaginary scene between you and your boyfriend out on a date and you groan, wondering when you had snuggled into your bed. Looking down, you tug on your nightshirt in confusion.

You roll your eyes, a small smile lifting on your puffy, chapped lips as you realize Seokjin had taken care of you yet again.

You roll out of bed and into your bathroom to wake yourself up by doing your normal morning routine. After some refreshing skincare, you make your way into the kitchen, already having decided to just clear another two bowls of cup ramen. To your pleasant surprise, a full-on meal was already awaiting you.

You shake your head, obviously Seokjin being the one who had prepared this grand meal. At the sight of the rice and soup neatly placed beside each other, your stomach loudly grumble and you make a quick mental note to call Seokjin later and dig into the rice and the various side dishes.

“Is it good?”

“HMPFGH!” you choke on the kimchi you were scarfing down, a violent series of coughs erupting at the unexpected voice that interrupted your meal.

Seokjin alarmingly pats your back, reaching for the water cup and handing it to you. With tears in your eyes, you take massive gulps of water and gasp out a deep breath.

“I thought you left!” you finally say after the whole ordeal.

Seokjin nods, walking over the chair across from you and gestures to you to keep eating. “I went out so I could restock your snacks. Food must be good, huh? You didn’t even hear me coming in!”

“Well, first of all, thank you, kind sir, for buying snacks,” you say with a playful glare. “But just so you know, the food is alright. Don’t wanna feed into your ever-growing ego.”

Seokjin scoffs, leaning back and arms starting to move animatedly as a small smile naturally comes up onto his lips. “WOWWW. This is what I get for cooking a whole meal for my dear girlfriend who was knocked out from her night shift! WAAH.”

A giggle erupts between your lips as you shove another spoonful of rice into your mouth. You miss the way Seokjin fondly smiles, leaning forward with a shameless stare.

“Finally,” he mumbles.

“Hm?” you look up from your chewing, eyes wide in confusion.

Seokjin nods to himself. “Of course. Sleep is always the answer.”

Your brows furrow at his randomness. “What are you talking about?”

Seokjin’s bottom lip instinctively juts out as he props his chin on his hand. “I tried to cuddle with you, attempted to tell you one of my foolproof jokes-”

You bark out a laugh that Seokjin blatantly ignores.

“Cleaned your whole apartment and cooked you a meal,” Seokjin dramatically sighs.

You gasp, looking up with an apologetic expression. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Jin.”

Seokjin remains silent, looking down at his cup.

“I was so tired that I didn’t even notice you decluttered everything and. . . washed the dishes?” you gasp once more when spotting an empty sink, pouting at your boyfriend. “I’m so sorry.”

You put down your spoon with a sigh, getting up and smacking your lips onto Seokjin’s for a brief second. Immediately, Seokjin cracks a smile, unable to contain his laughter.

“What the heck,” you scoff. “You were acting!?”

Seokjin laughs, pinching your cheek without care of your protests. “How could I ever be mad at my wonderfully perfectly utterly clueless girlfriend?”

Seokjin giggles at your glare. “I’m just kidding. Of course, I don’t blame you. I never can and never will. You’re working so much these days. It’s obvious for you to not be. . . fully awake?”

“I’m sorry,” you frown, grabbing a piece of fish cake to bring into your bowl.

“Don’t be,” Seokjin grins. “At least you smiled.”

“What?” you say, giving Seokjin a weirded out look.

“I’m telling you!” Seokjin sighs with a shake of his head. “All you women need is sleep. Not a man.”

You chortle out a laugh at his statement and nod. “I one hundred percent agree.”

Seokjin breaks out into laughter mid-scoff, unable to resist your contagious laughter.

“Let’s go outside after you’re done eating,” Seokjin suggests.

“No,” you deadpan, making him flinch. “I wanna finish rewatching Hospital Playlist.”

“You already watched that drama three ti-”

“I’ll give you that cuddle session I wasn’t able to give you earlier,” you interrupt with a wink.

Seokjin breaks out into a grin. “That actually sounds a lot better than a walk in the park.”

You laugh at his eagerness and continue eating with satisfied hums at his cooking. Seokjin wipes the sauce at the corner of your lip and continues to blatantly stare, feeling his heart swell at the sight of your lips stretching into a smile.

//

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed whatever this was LOL. I was slightly debating how to approach this request but i hope it turned out alright!! Seokjin’s cute or whateva.

[sunsetspidey]

a little too much ⎮s.m.

pairing: reader x shawn mendes

summary: the release of the señorita music video was all it took for her insecurities to become too much

warnings: a few bad words, some angst, insecurities, mention of anxiety 

a/n: this is based off a request from @skarsgard-bill-sstuff! i hope you like it and that i did your request justice. p.s. i’m sorry for taking ages to write it

disclaimer: i do not have anything against camila or shawmila or whatever. just putting that out there. i just want my smol bean to be happy. ok that’s all.

Y/N wasn’t sure when the insecurities started, but they were there and they were real. So, so real and she couldn’t find the switch to turn them off. When they first forced their way into her head, she pushed them away, telling herself that she had absolutely no reason to feel this way. Shawn could have anyone he wanted (he practically had girls throwing themselves at him everywhere he went) and he had chosen her. He didn’t hold back on his affection and compliments either, only enforcing the fact that her doubts were unnecessary.

Maybe that was why they had started - when his affection grew less and less frequent, and his compliments turned into complaints. When he had called her a bitch because she had asked him if he could clean up his clothes in their bedroom, she told herself that he was stressed about the upcoming tour. He had apologized the same night, wrapping his arm around her waist and whispering sweet nothings into her ear, so she hadn’t thought much about it. It happened again a few weeks later and it didn’t take long before outbursts and namecalling became common in their conversations. 

Y/N wasn’t completely innocent, either, and she was fully aware. Instead of trying to reason with him when he started acting like that, she would return his hurtful words and only fuel his anger farther. It was sort of a vicious cycle that either of them seemed to know how to stop. She desperately needed it to, though, because she didn’t know how much more of the arguing she could handle. The more they argued, the more the insecurities and what-ifs were gnawing at the back of her mind. Some days, they were the first thing she thought of in the morning and the last thing she thought of before succumbing to sleep. They plagued her everyday life and she hated it. 

The release of the music video for Señorita was all it took to push her over the edge. When Shawn told her about his collaboration with his long-term best friend, you had been nothing but supportive. She even offered an opinion or two on the lyrics when the two of them had been stuck. Shawn had told her all about the concept for the music video during a FaceTime call while on tour in Europe, but neglecting to mention that he and Camila were the ones starring in it. Y/N had joined Shawn’s livestream on Instagram the day he was premiering it on YouTube, joining the fans in teasing him as he couldn’t figure it out. For the first time in a while, she had watched the video simultaneously with his fans and while they were freaking out about how good it was, she had been freaking out about something else entirely. 

She was meeting him in Los Angeles two weeks after the release and those two weeks had been horrible. There were reminders everywhere; online, her text messages, the TV. The song was breaking records, which made it worthy of the news and that also meant she would photos and short clips whether she wanted to or not. A few of her friends had texted her, attempting to subtly ask if she was okay with Shawn being all over Camila like that. She wasn’t, but she wouldn’t tell them that, playing it off like it was no big deal. He was hers and she trusted him - at least that was what she tried telling herself. 

The worst part was the comments and her Twitter mentions got the worst of it. Fans were mentioning her every minute of every day, asking about her opinions of the video. It seemed Shawn’s fans were divided, which she appreciated. While a majority were talking about how he should break up with her and date Camila instead, the minority was on her side. They would send her supportive messages and tag her in edits of her and Shawn. She saw all of it and the edits reminded her of how long it had been since the two of them had been out in public. The photos used were almost four months old and she couldn’t ignore how it tugged on her heartstrings. 

Y/N watched Shawn from the side of the stage as he soundchecked, leaning against the concrete wall, her arms across her chest. She had arrived late the previous night and she was positive she hadn’t been able to hide her disappointment when Brian came to pick her up from the airport. To avoid his concerned stares, she had mumbled an excuse about being exhausted and pretended to fall asleep on the ride back to the hotel. Shawn had been asleep when she let herself into the hotel room, barely acknowledging her as she climbed into bed. It had taken her hours to fall asleep, her heart aching as he listened to his steady breathing. She had felt out of place sleeping next to him suddenly and it pained her massively. When she woke up the next morning, Shawn hadn’t been anywhere in sight, a simple text letting her know that he had gone to the gym.

Needless to say, she hadn’t gotten much sleep. She had barely seen Shawn, the two of them yet to exchange any words, and it seemed that his crew was beginning to notice. Brian had made his mission to keep her occupied, it appeared, barely letting her out of his sight. He had taken her to breakfast in the morning, sharing a Lyft with her to the arena, and declined Connor’s invitation of exploring the city. She had been able to sneak away when Alessia struck up a conversation with him and she had sent the Canadian singer a grateful smile as she exited the green room. Y/N was convinced Alessia knew about the chaos inside her head, but she was too heartbroken to ask about it. 

As the familiar tune of Fallin’ All In You filled the empty arena, she swallowed the lump in her throat, furiously blinking away the glossiness in her eyes. She distracted herself with her phone, avoiding Twitter, scrolling through her feed on Instagram instead. Eventually, her boyfriend’s angelic singing fades out and as applause entered her ears, she slipped her phone into the back pocket of her boyfriend jeans. Pushing herself off the wall, she straightened her spine, determined to steal back some of his attention. He stumbled down the stairs, almost knocking her over in the process. A look she wasn’t able to fully interpret crossed his face as he realized who she was. 

“Babe!” he exclaimed, his lips stretching into a smile. She didn’t have time to respond before he pulled her into a hug, her breath momentarily disappearing as she collided with his chest. “What d’you think?” 

“You sound great,” she admitted, reluctantly pulling away. It felt like it had been an eternity since he held like her that and she had almost forgotten his scent. “like always. The voice of an angel.” 

His cheeks were already rosy, but she knew him and could easily spot the blush turning a shade darker. He chuckled, running a hand through his mop of curls and she wished her fingers could replace his. His laughter - easily one of her favorite sounds in the world - would normally send a warm tingle throughout her body, but this time around it caused her nothing but misery. She missed being able to make him laugh without even trying. 

“’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” he apologized, his thumb caressing the crease of her wrist. “Connor and I went to the gym and you were gone when I got back.”

She noticed the exaggerated pout of his lips, but ignored it. “Brian treated me to breakfast.” 

Shawn nodded. “He told me. Heard you ate three whole waffles.” 

There was a teasing smirk dancing on his lips and normally she would either elbow him or swat his chest to which he would pull her close and tickle her sides. Not even his playful banter could lift the blanket of mixed emotions she seemed to be tangled in. She was sad; sad because she felt like she didn’t know her boyfriend anymore, sad because he didn’t seem to notice them growing apart, sad because she knew he could do so much better than her. Her sadness was accompanied by anger and frustration for all the same reasons. She was upset with Shawn for acting the way he had been acting, for not telling her about the music video and pretending like it wasn��t a big deal. She was upset with herself because, in reality, she felt pathetic for feeling this way. 

“Do you love me?” 

Her question-like accusation was abrupt. So abrupt that it momentarily felt like everybody in the arena had stopped their actions to listen to their conversation. She was certain that if she dropped a pin, you’d be able to hear it come in contact with the grey concrete floors. Shawn’s playful exterior faltered immediately, his brows furrowing as if trying to figure out if she had said what he heard. His hand fell from hers in surprise and she missed his warm touch instantly. 

“After everything we’ve been through, you still think I don’t love you?” Shawn uttered, disbelief dripping from his words. 

“I don’t know, okay? I can’t tell. I-I don’t know who you are anymore, Shawn.”

His name felt foreign on her tongue and by the way his eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting to hear his first name fall from her lips either. For the two, almost three years, their respective pet names were all they had exchanged as a means of referring to one another. Shawn had expanded his nickname vocabulary as they grew more serious and she wasn’t complaining; some of his favorites being honey and baby. Y/N had her fair share of pet names for him, too, but the most favorable one was rockstar. It always tugged at the corner of his lips and more often than not, it elicited a smile from her favorite person in the whole world. 

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t noticed? Shawn, we can barely get through a conversation without coming for each other’s throats. I feel like I haven’t seen you in months. Even when you’re home, you spend all your time with your friends and when you’re here, you’re with Camila,” she informed, the words spilling out before she could really consider them.

“That’s not—”

“It’s true, so please don’t try to make any excuses. And next time you decide to practically hump her in a music video, how about a heads up first, hm?” 

Shawn’s wide eyes glanced around quickly and although she could tell his anxiety was getting to him, she couldn’t stop herself. She was on a roll and she needed to get the words off her chest. Over the past couple of months, she had been bottling these feelings up, too afraid that if she spoke of them aloud, Shawn would agree with the haunting voice in her head. She knew it hadn’t been the same between them lately, but she also knew that she didn’t want to be with anyone else. Shawn was the one who could make her laugh on her darkest days and she wanted - needed - him in her life. 

Maybe that was the reason her eyes watered as hers met his. She recognized the guilt within them immediately, but it was gone almost as soon as it disappeared. The flicker of remorse was replaced with anger and she knew then that he wasn’t about to just stand there and listen to her, he would put up a fight. She dug her nails into the palm of her hand, determined to at least appear stronger than she was. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. 

“I told you about the music video weeks before we filmed it!”

“Yeah, but you never told me you were the one doing all those things with Camila. If I had known, I wouldn’t be as supportive as I was.” 

Shawn scoffs, his eyebrows quirking. “Supportive? If you were supportive you wouldn’t be out here complaining about me being gone when it’s my job. You knew what it would be like when we started dating.”

He was right and they both knew it. It had been a frequent discussion amongst the two of them as their relationship grew more serious. Shawn made sure to let her know that with his second album nearing its release, there would be even more touring and more interviews, but she had already fallen head over heels for him and was certain they could withstand every obstacle thrown their way. She was proven right as he left for his second world tour, their relationship blooming like a flower in spring. It seemed as though the two of them were invincible and she missed that feeling more than she could express. 

She still wanted them to be. There was not an ounce of doubt within her that she wanted to be with him. The two of them were often mentioned in magazines despite their relationship being fairly private. Headlines like ‘Hollywood power couple Shawn and Y/N’ and ‘Long-term couple Mendes and Y/L/N’ were more frequent than she would like to admit. It was flattering, she couldn’t deny it, but it was also scary. She knew that if the two of them were to split, the press would be all over them in a heartbeat, like vultures attacking their prey. She had been with him for so long that she couldn’t imagine a future without him, but the dark thoughts filling her head were telling her that would be impossible.  

“I’m not complaining,” she muttered, the tears threatening to spill once again. “I’m just saying that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Camila and other friends instead of me. You don’t even invite me along.”

“I do spend time with you, Y/N,” she tried her best not to shudder as her name fell from his lips. It sounded like poison and by the brief look of shock in his eyes, she assumed it tasted like it, too. “Camila’s one of my best friends. I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you.” 

His words were like thorns pricking her skin. It felt like her skin was on fire. Her insecurities were right at the front of her mind instantaneously and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push them away. She was well-aware that Camila had known him longer and while a part of her hated it, she knew how much she and their friendship meant to Shawn. Camila was sweet and Y/N considered her a friend, so she had never really been insecure until recently. She trusted Shawn and she trusted Camila, but her own thoughts were getting the best of her. 

“Yeah, I know, your fans remind me every day. I don’t know if you notice, but they tag me in photos and tweets all the time and ninety percent of the time it’s to tell me that you should be dating her and not me. Sometimes, I feel like you want it to happen as much as them.” 

She wasn’t sure what she noticed first; the way his expression softened or the salty tear coming in contact with her bottom lip. Inwardly cursing herself for not being able to hold her tears at bay, she brought her hand to her face, frustratingly using the back of her hand to wipe away the escaped tears. She hated not being able to control her tears, it was increasingly difficult when she couldn’t even control her emotions. She was angry and terrified and hurt and sad. It was a cocktail she didn’t like the taste of. 

“What d’you mean? Of course, I don’t! We’re just friends.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed, a scoff escaping her. “And friends don’t know the way you taste, right? Your fans were the ones who pointed it out, actually, but you do seem to have a lot of songs about unrequited love, so it makes you wonder who—”

“Don’t use my lyrics against me,” Shawn mumbled, taking a hesitant step forward as if to test the boundaries. She didn’t have the energy to move and remained in her spot. “I love Camila, but the love I have for her is completely different from the one I have for you. Baby, I love you so much it hurts. Those songs are either based off old feelings or story ideas I make up in my head. You know that.” 

“I-I just,” she sighed and before she could wipe away her continuous tears, Shawn beats her to it. His thumb moves gingerly across her cheek, taking the signs of her weakness with it. “She’s so gorgeous and the whole world practically wants the two of you to date and I... I just feel like I’m not enough.”

“You are,” Shawn proclaimed immediately, his large hand resting against your damp cheek. “You are more than enough. I don’t care what the world thinks or what my fans are saying. I want you. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. There’s been a lot going on with the tour and traveling and planning the- it’s been hectic and you deserve better and I’m sorry.”

“I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I-I just get insecure and social media makes it worse sometimes.”

Shawn shook his head, using his thumb to lift your chin gently. “Hey, you’re not stupid. We all have our insecurities and yours are as real as anyone else’s. I’m really sorry about the music video, but please know that I was thinking of you the whole time and it was fucking awkward. I have the day off tomorrow. Let’s hang out, just the two of us, yeah? No phones. No friends. Sound good?”

She nodded and that was all it took for him to pull her back into his arms. She could feel his nose in her hair and she smiled against his chest. Her insecurities wouldn’t disappear just like that, they both knew that, but the fact that he understood where she was coming from was all she needed. She could hear his small inhale and she knew he was smelling her hair to see if she smelled like home, making her smile even wider. Interlacing her hands behind his back, she hugged him tighter, determined to never let him go. She could only hope that he was in it for the long-run too and his next words were really all the reassurance she needed.

“About fucking time,” Brian exclaimed, startling the two of you apart. “I was about to take Y/N and let you have Camila, man.” 

“Fuck off. No one’s taking her. She’s mine and she always will be.”  

should i create a tag list? also, come talk to me about this! i love hearing your opinions 🧡

[lihikainanea]

Ouh could you please elaborate on Bill spanking tiger ? You got me intrigued 😈👀

FINALLY I was able to follow one of my 298487234873458 strains of thoughts on this for long enough to actually WRITE SOMETHING. Look, I literally have at least eight possible scenarios for how this went down but the whole thing with firsts is that they’re only supposed to happen once or some shit like that, so I had to actually like….DECIDE ON JUST ONE.

And it hurt. I’m still not sure it’s the best one, but it’s the one that kept this little pea-brain of mine on track for more than 30 seconds on what is probably my most prominent kink.

ANYWAY, anecdote: tiger acts all tough but guaranteed  she gets super small and embarrassed and shy after this. I think it’s probably just a bit of a delayed reaction, like she harrumphed at Bill’s aftercare because she’s mean and tough and screw you Bill, but two days later she’s hella embarrassed at how much she begged and what she begged for and is in a real bad headspace and doesn’t know what’s happening. And Bill is just like...smol human;;;why are u like this let me luv u.

S-M-U-T.

***

He was letting you call the shots.

In his defense, you hadn’t left him with much of a choice. When you showed up at his place for dinner, you let yourself in and all but tackled him the moment you saw him. His back was turned, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, as he hummed along to some of the soft music he had playing in the background. You couldn’t even hold yourself back for a second or two, to take in the way his button down clung to his back muscles, the way he had rolled the cuffs to his elbows in a way that was completely irresistible, the way his jeans accentuated his long legs, cut perfectly to rest on his barefeet. The way he was letting his hair grow longer a bit, so that a curl always flopped on his forehead. 

It had been a long week, full of hard discussions, authority that you weren’t comfortable having, decisions that you weren’t comfortable making, and you just wanted to take it out on someone. Bill, oblivious to your internal struggle, had all but squawked when you yanked on his shoulder, spinning him forcefully around before you grabbed onto his neck and pulled him down. You crushed your lips to his, fisting his hair to hold him in place as you kissed the hell out of him. Walking backwards, you dragged him with you and grabbed the two sides of his shirt, yanking hard until it opened. The buttons flew everywhere and Bill’s eyes went wide.

“Tiger what—”  he started to interject.

“I’ll sew them back on,” you shut him up with another kiss, digging your nails lightly into his chest and dragging them down across his pecs. He gasped, clenching his teeth as you leaned forward and eased some of the sting with your tongue.

“I’m in big, big trouble aren’t I,” he mumbled more to himself, as you tore the shirt from his shoulders and dragged him by the belt into his bedroom. 

It was only when you tackled him to the bed, shoving his upper body down and straddling him, that it occurred to you that maybe you should check in with him. Make sure he was okay with everything. You felt a small pang of guilt when you looked at his face, his eyes a little wider than usual and staring up at you cautiously. He was always so careful with you, always checked in constantly to make sure you were alright and feeling good, and yet you had completely blindsided him in your own selfish desire to tame the fire in your belly.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed at your greed, you eased the grip you had on his hair and lightly traced your thumb over his lips. His hands were by his head, unsure if he was allowed to touch you, and his big eyes stared up at you, unblinking. He looked as though he was a little scared you might actually slap him. You bit your lip.

“Yes?” You asked, because it was the only thing you could think of.

“Yeah,” he confirmed and it was a half sigh, half breathless moan, as the corner of his mouth tilted up in the smallest of smirks, “Get it, kid.”

And you thought you could. When you had gotten his jeans down—not even bothering to pull them all the way off because you were too impatient—and had flung your own bottoms somewhere across his room, he could already feel how close you were when you slammed down on to him. It was a remarkable display of self control on his part, not to ruin your fun and just come undone the way he was dangerously close to doing. You rode him hard and fast and his jaw tensed so tightly he was sure he’d crack a tooth, the way you were clenching around him was enough to kill any man. 

But after a few minutes, your moans and whines took on a more desperate pitch,  more frustrated than pleasured, and your pace slowed somewhat as you chased a high that seemed to be getting further and further away from you. Looking up at you, he saw your brow pinched in concentration, your bottom lip snagged between your teeth, your shoulders tensed. And after a few more rolls of your hips against his, you let go a frustrated wail and buried your face in your hands.

Grabbing your hips quickly, he flipped you over so that you were beneath him and cupped your face.

“It’s not working,” you whined.

“What’s not working?” He asked, but you could only whine again and try to look away. He held your face firmly in his hand.

“Tell me what you need, kid.”

You didn’t respond, breathing heavy still, and trying to look anywhere but at him.  

“Tiger, it’s me. It’s us. You can ask me for anything, sweetheart,” he coaxed, “I’ll give it to you. Anything you want. Just ask.”

But that didn’t work either, and you let out another whine as you wiggled and closed your eyes, your face heating up.

So he tried another approach, keeping his voice stern and his touch a little harsher than usual.. He squeezed your jaw enough to be a little uncomfortable, buried his other hand in your hair and gave a small tug.

“Tiger, tell me. Now,” He snapped, it was experimental on his part but he didn’t miss the way you seemed to go pliant beneath him almost immediately.

“Please Bill,” and it was a whimper, “I need…can you…” you stuttered over your words, and he was patient while you tried to get it out. When you went silent, though, he pulled your hair lightly again and you moaned loudly.

“Can I what?” He demanded.

“Take control,” you said, lowly.

“And?”

“And…spank me.”

He hid his shock well, including the moan that teetered on the edge of his lips when he heard your request. You misinterpreted his silence though, and started to squirm uncomfortably and push him away.

“Nevermind, it’s stupid, it’s been a long week and I thought maybe it would—” he cut off your rambling with a rough kiss, leaving you dazed.

“Eyes on me, kid,” he snapped his fingers at you and you opened your eyes slowly. He waited until he saw the haze clear, saw you focus on him.

“Colour system,” he said, “Green means you want me to keep going. Yellow means it’s starting to be a bit too much. Red means stop. Understand?”

You nodded.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“And don’t wait for me to ask. If you want it to stop, you say it immediately. Understand?” He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Eyes,” he commanded, keeping his tone harsh to help you back into that headspace that you seemed to enjoy. You looked at him immediately.

“I understand,” you mumbled.

“What’s your safe word?” He asked.

“Pineapple.”

“Or?”

“Red,” you answered obediently. He tapped his thumb on your cheek.

“And if you want me to keep going, what do you say?” He asked.

“Green,” you twisted your head, your lips reaching for his thumb, and he let you draw it into your mouth.

“And if you need me to slow down or ease up?”

“Yellow,” you mumbled.

“Or?”

“Red,” you sighed, nipping gently at the pad of his finger before swirling your tongue over it. You relaxed into the pillows, feeling some of the tension ease its way out of your muscles the more he spoke to you in that tone.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and he marvelled at the way you almost purred at the words, “Get on all fours.”

You obeyed immediately, flipping over onto your knees as he maneuvered behind you. Pushing your shoulders back down onto the mattress and grabbing your hair at the base of your neck, he asked if you were ready and you nodded. He palmed a handful of your ass before pulling back landing his hand with a resounding smack. He kept it light at first, gauging your reaction, but you moaned louder than he had ever heard before.

“Harder, please,” you begged before he could ask, “Harder.”

Pulling back again, his palm struck your behind harder than the first time and he kept it there, massaging the sting out.

“What’s your colo—“

“Green,” you cut him off, “Harder.”

Leaning to kiss your spine, he licked between your shoulder blades as he spanked you hard and you gasped. He did it again and again, rubbing the sting out for a few seconds each time, until you were a mess beneath him. You could barely hold yourself up, even on all fours, and you sank your teeth into the pillow.

“What’s your colour, kid?” He paused, kneading your ass gently in his hand.

“Green,” you moaned, bunching the sheets in your fists, “Please, fuck, more.”

He let go of his grip on your hair, sliding his hand down your spine. Reaching between your legs, he ran two fingers up your slit as his other hand landed harshly on you again. He felt you quiver, arching your hips and backing up onto his fingers to try and get more friction.

“You’re dripping, tiger,” it was his turn to moan, and he lined himself up at your entrance.

“Hold on to the headboard,” he commanded.

“It’s okay,” you said, and in an instant he had your hair wound in his fist as he pulled your head back.

“Oh, you want all the control back, kid?” He snarled in your ear, and you shook your head as much as you could.

“No,” you whined.

“Then hold on to the fucking headboard.”

Shakily, you reached your hands out and did as you were told. In one fluid motion, he slammed into you. When his hips were flush with yours, he pulled his hand back and spanked you hard, and you nearly screamed in pleasure.

“Colour.”

“Green, oh my god Bill,” you moaned, “Just like that, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. But only three thrusts in and you were coming undone all over him, finding your release with a loud cry as you shook. He didn’t last much longer, spilling inside you with a deep groan as his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. You collapsed face down on the mattress, completely spent, and he took a second to catch his breath before he gathered you in his arms. He gave you a few minutes, held you tightly in silence, stroking your hair and kissing your face.

When he felt you start to nod off in his arms, he tapped your nose.

“Hold on a second, kid, not just yet,” and he rolled over on top of you, kissing your lips gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“Tomorrow,” you responded.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you nodded, peering up at him with a lazy smile.

“Are you in pain?”

“No,” you mumbled, and tilted your head for another kiss that he indulged you with. You rolled your eyes when he asked if he could check you over but obliged, rolling onto your stomach and enjoying the feeling of his hands gliding gently, reverently, over your skin.

When he was satisfied with his checkup on you, he gathered you in his arms again as you yawned.

“Is there a specific type of aftercare that you like?” His question was so blunt, so direct, that you couldn’t stop the fit of giggles that it launched you into.

“Bill, my god,” and you cupped his face when his cheeks started to turn pink in embarrassment, “Are you always so….so surgical about this?”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay!” He defended, but the loud grumbling of your stomach stopped you both.

“There’s your aftercare mission,” you said, “I’m fucking starving.”

So he carried you to the kitchen, keeping you wrapped in the bedsheet and throwing his boxers back on along the way. You rolled your eyes as he fussed over you, making you drink a few glasses of water, tentatively handing you a bag of frozen peas that you promptly shoved down his boxers the moment he turned around. And once you were fed and hydrated and starting to nod off sitting up, he insisted on checking you one last time before you laid down. Too tired to argue, you let him run his hands softly over you and he tutted, disappearing for a few minutes and emerging with a small tub of coconut oil. Melting some in his hand, he massaged it onto your behind and you huffed.

“Really, Bill?”

“Your skin is all red and you literally have my handprint on your ass,” he said, “So just shut up and let me be nurturing.”

You tried to crane your neck to get a glimpse of what he was talking about, but you couldn’t see.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, “It just means you’ll have to even out the other side tomorrow.”

[animakupo]

Dearest Heart (Ravus x Reader)

COME ONE COME ALL TO SOME RAVUS FLANGST BROUGHT TO YOU BY A LAMEASS (me) AS REQUESTED BY @aeciru !!!!!!

From the prompt list:

#8: “I don’t need you anymore.”

#20: “Please don’t hurt me like this.”

#59: “You own my heart.”

I did all aforementioned prompts despite having the option to choose just one because there just isn’t enough love for Ravus ok!!!!! I took the liberty to adjust the prompts accordingly to fit with the dialogue though.

ALSO. BOY OH BOY WAS WRITING THIS A CHALLENGE. Ravus and Luna speak in a really eloquent and flowery manner, so I did my best apply such a style and drop contractions here and there whenever I saw fit. I went back and forth with several sections here just to beef up the story and make the relationship and history with Rea more developed and fluid. (((((idk why but i felt pressured to do our boye real good)))))) (i hope i delivered)

(keeping just ravus in character is hard okkkkk)

Speaking of!!!! I read that smol Ravus was actually really nice and kind, so I wrote him as such in the beginning. He becomes the Giant Angst Bean™ that we all know and love later on.

Title was inspired by @birdsandivory who often tags posts relating to their s/o as “dearest heart.” I thought it was the most DARLING thing ever, so I hope you don’t mind that I took that as inspiration!!

Tagging @thatoneawkwardfanthing and @lokewight who asked to be tagged!

i hope you all enjoy this ; w ; 

word count: 5.3k+ words, fluff and angst, soft Ravus and hard Ravus (not sexual ok), spoilers for Kingsglaive

Growing up within the walls of House Nox Fleuret was a privilege that not many were privy to. Luckily for you, your family maintained close ties to the royal family of Tenebrae, thus granting you access to the more personal side of the Nox Fleuret family.

Though you were shy, your parents insisted that you befriend the Nox Fleuret siblings as a show of goodwill. Something about “maintaining peace,” or whatever it was the adults often talked about.

When you were first brought to Tenebrae to meet the nation’s royal family, you were in awe of the region’s majestic architecture — was that an actual castle? — and its signature blue flora, the sylleblossom. Fenestala Manor blew you away in particular, so you were all the more enlivened when your parents explained that this would be your new living quarters.

It was a long time coming, your move to the Manor. After all, you were being groomed to become the Royal Advisor to rising generation of Nox Fleurets.

Upon your arrival at the Manor, Queen Sylva had greeted you personally with the warmest of receptions. She even offered you a brief hug after you clumsily bowed before her. The queen’s friendliness took you aback, but it made you feel all fuzzy on the inside. She was nice.

With Queen Sylva were her two children, a boy and a girl. The female of the two siblings gravitated towards you naturally. She called herself Lunafreya, and she had the sweetest eyes and kindest smile. You regarded her with awe of her beauty.

“This is my brother, Ravus,” Lunafreya introduced as she gestured for you to step closer towards her sibling.

“Welcome to Tenebrae,” Ravus greeted with a friendly smile. “I do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

The different hues in Ravus’ eyes helped you maintain eye contact with him. “H-Hello,” you mumbled timidly. “I’m (Name).”

“What a lovely name!” Lunafreya clapped her hands excitedly as she looked to Ravus. “Wouldn’t you agree, Brother?”

Ravus nodded. “Indeed it is.”

You immediately blushed under their compliments. “Thank you,” you managed to let out, feeling the last of your discomfort crawl away from your skin. These two were good people, you could tell. Even though they were royalty, they welcomed you into their home — into their lives — with open arms.

That was the start of your allegiance to the royal family of Tenebrae.

*

“Princess,” you called. “It’s time for your lessons.”

“Oh (Name),” Lunafreya hummed from her bedroom. “Can’t we skip for once? Please?”

It had been several years since your life had first become interwoven with that of House Nox Fleuret’s. Since your initial meeting, you had only grown closer to both Lunafreya and Ravus at varying degrees.

Lunafreya was almost always attached to your hip. If she wasn’t busy with her duties, she was accompanied by Gentiana. Otherwise, she was often around you. You had come to love her like a sister and would do anything to keep that divine smile on her face.

On the other hand, you had also forged a very formidable friendship with the elder Nox Fleuret. You were closer to Ravus in age, so naturally, the two of you found a lot of things in common. In the years you had spent getting to know him, you had come to realize that Ravus was very much like his mother.

Unbelievably kind.

Incredibly accommodating.

So, so warm.

You were honored that Ravus felt safe enough around you to let his guard down and not just be himself, but also show his softer side to you.

You wanted to think that you were at least somewhat special to him in that regard.

These days, you weren’t sure what to make of the butterflies that went wild in your tummy whenever you were around Ravus, but spending time with him always made you giddy and caused your heart to race. It was hard not to smile in his presence.

“Your mother would have my head if I allowed another absence, Princess.”

“She would not!” the young blonde retorted as she fixed her fringe in place. “Mother is much too nice for such barbaric extremes.”

“Perhaps not,” you replied, a teasing smile sneaking its way onto your face, “but if Her Highness won’t have my head, then it will be your brother who may scold me if I continue to be soft on you.”

“That won’t happen,” Lunafreya assured you, a knowing smirk on her otherwise delicate face. “Ravus adores you.”

You immediately flushed at her statement. “H-He…! He does not!”

“Oh, but he does. In fact, Ravus-”

“Are you speaking ill of me again, dearest sister?” Ravus’ voice interrupted from the doorway.

You spun around to face him, feeling embarrassed that he had nearly caught onto what his sister had been insinuating. “My Prince!” You bowed before him, trying to keep the warmth in your cheeks at bay.

“At ease,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to set you upright again. “How many times must I insist that ‘Ravus’ is enough?”

“My apologies.”

“And how many times must I defend my honor in front of you, brother dearest?” Lunafreya challenged teasingly, staring indignantly at her older sibling with her hands on her hips. “When have I ever spoken ill of you?”

“If we count all the instances,” he said, “then you will most surely miss your lessons, and we cannot allow that, now can we?”

Ravus glanced at you then, his dual-colored eyes holding a playful glint. You took this as a sign to usher your charge out the door and off to her obligations.

“I-Indeed, we cannot!”

Lunafreya threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. “Ah, I can only take so much when the two of you bully me together! Off I go, then.”

“We-! We weren’t bullying you, Lady Luna-” Your impending apology was cut short with the realization that Lunafreya had already left. Flustered, you turned to Ravus and asked, “She’s not… She’s not angry with me, is she?”

Ravus chuckled, waving his hand to dismiss your fears. “Fret not, dear (Name). My sister merely jests.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Lady Lunafreya will be the death of me one of these days.”

“As she will be for me, as well.”

His reply caused a few giggles to escape your lips. Once your small bout of laughter tapered, you found Ravus to be looking at you with what appeared to be fondness in his eyes. His gaze made you blush, so you opted to break the silence by bringing the attention back to him.

“So how may I be of service of you today, my Prince?” you asked, returning to your well-mannered front.

Ravus sighed at your ignorance of his name yet again. “Yes, I’ve come to you in need of a favor, actually.”

“Oh? A favor?” You looked at him questioningly, your curiosity piqued. “I will do my best to be of assistance to you, my-”

“Ravus,” he repeated sternly, though his eyes remained tender. “When we are in private, kindly refer to me by my name.”

‘I take it back,’ you thought, feeling your cheeks burn all the more thanks to Ravus’ sweet plea. ‘It is the prince who will be the death of me, not the princess.’

“R-Ravus,” you tested, feeling lighter at the sight of elation on the prince’s face upon the utterance of his name from your mouth.

“Much better.”

You had to keep it together to stop yourself from swooning at his dazzling smile. At the age of 15, Ravus had grown well into his body, and by the looks of it, he would only continue to grow as the years go by. His face had matured some from the time when you first met as children, and while his features sharpened, his kindness had not wavered.

Especially not around you.

“U-Um… Ravus. Ahem. What is this favor you speak of?”

“You have heard of the upcoming ball, have you not?”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded, thinking back on the invitations you had glossed over just a few days prior. “The one celebrating our nation, correct?”

“That is the one. May I ask if you will be preoccupied then?”

You did a mental scan of your duties and responsibilities leading up to the ball. “I may need to assist Lady Lunafreya,” you answered, “but otherwise, I will be present at the sidelines in the event that my aid is needed for the remainder of the night.”

“I don’t suppose you would like to attend as a guest of the family?” Ravus quietly proposed.

Your brows furrowed. What need of Ravus required you to attend as a guest of House Nox Fleuret? You would already be present at the ball anyhow, so the invitation seemed odd as it was rather unnecessary.

Regardless, attending as a guest of House Nox Fleuret meant that the festivities would at least be a little more entertaining, what with the company of Lunafreya and Ravus making everything a little more enjoyable.

It also meant that you would by their side for most of the night, and that alone seemed more appealing than having to lurk in the shadows by yourself.

“That is a very generous offer, my- Ravus.” You winced at how your correction made it sound like you had referred to the prince as ‘yours,’ but you trudged on, hoping he hadn’t taken notice of your slip up. “I would be honored to-”

You were stopped by Ravus clearing his throat. “I’m afraid I failed to clarify.” Dusting off imaginary dirt from his sleeve, he added, “Would you be willing to attend the ball as my guest?”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard at the offer. “A-As…? As your…?”

He huffed a little uncharacteristically. “As my date.”

“Ah.”

An awkward silence enveloped the room. On your part, you were unsure as to how to respond to Ravus’ request. While there was no denying that you would be more than happy to accompany him to the ball — as his date, no less — when it came right down to it, you were torn between your personal sentiments towards the prince and what was expected of you as his Royal Advisor.

Perhaps it was because you were in your teenage years — being just a year younger than Ravus — but it was quite evident to you that you had begun to develop some feelings for your charge. It was a bit of a pickle for you, because it became a challenge having to keep your feelings at bay without crossing the line of what was considered proper.

Though your relationship with the Nox Fleuret family was definitely friendly and familiar, it was still encased in decorum and your respective obligations not just to each other, but to the nation of Tenebrae as well.

Thus, Ravus’ proposal practically blindsided you. You weren’t so naive as to presume he harbored some sort of romantic feelings for you as well, but you could hope, couldn’t you? He wasn’t required to bring a date to the ball; you knew, because you helped piece the occasion together. So what was he doing here, asking you of all people to come with him?

Your nerves and apprehension over how to approach Ravus’ offer must have shown on your face, as he immediately backtracked, saying, “You are not obligated to accept, of course.” Was he worried that you would only say yes because you thought you had to? “I am well aware that such gatherings are not to your taste. Thus, my request may be more of a nuisance than anything, so-”

“Yes.”

Ravus’ rambling came to a halt. “I… beg your pardon?”

“Yes, Ravus.” You gave him a bright smile, hoping it would convey enough of your feelings for him to understand. “I would be delighted to accompany you to the ball, if it won’t be too much trouble for you.”

His shoulders practically sagged in utmost relief. “No, never,” he said as a small smile began to bloom on his face. “You are not an inconvenience in the slightest.”

“So…” You looked away, feeling bashful over the how things had unfolded. “I shall see you then, my Prince?”

“You do me the greatest honor.” Ravus reached out to you and delicately grasped your hand in order to lay a soft kiss on it. “I shall see you then, my (Name).”

“Ex-Excuse me?” you blubbered, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer. “Your (Name)?”

“It’s only fair, is it not?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am your Ravus, and so in return, you are my (Name).”

“Th-That’s-!”

“I shall see you at the ball, dearest heart. Good day.”

And with that, Ravus not only left you a flustered mess, he took with him the rest of your heart as well.

You didn’t really mind, though.

*

You often look back on that time with much fondness and love. The ball was boring as expected, but being by Ravus’ side for the entirety of the night made it much, much more tolerable. Lunafreya sending the two of you some smug smiles also made for some amusement that night.

Despite the fact that you came as Ravus’ date, neither of you initiated the step to further your friendship into a romance. Both of you merely skirted around your feelings, too shy to do anything beyond the confines of your personal and professional lives together.

Lunafreya often urged you to take the initiative and allow the love between you and her brother to prosper, but you always evaded her prodding. In spite of Lunafreya’s unabashed approval and support, you believed that you were in no position to present your feelings to Ravus and expect some sort of reciprocation in the form of a romantic relationship.

No, you wanted it to come from him. You were merely his advisor and a childhood friend at best. There was no way you were going to burden him with your feelings, not when you were unsure if this was what he really wanted with you. If he was not going to take the step forward, then you would adjust to his pace, as you have done all these years.

You were content with remaining by his side. Whether it be as his advisor, his friend, or his lover… so long as you were with him, then that was more than enough for you.

Things changed just a year later with the death of Queen Sylva and the imperial control of Niflheim over Tenebrae.

*

Now, years later, you still remain by Ravus’ side. Many things have since changed, such as Lunafreya’s appointment as the new Oracle, as well as Ravus’ new occupation under Niflheim’s invasion.

No longer was he the prince of Tenebrae. Now, he was known as Ravus Nox Fleuret, the High Commander of the Imperial Army.

You still referred to him as your prince, though. Ravus would merely ignore the title as if you had never said it in the first place.

After the death of Queen Sylva, Lunafreya had pleaded with you to place your focus on her brother rather than on herself. You had objected, arguing that both she and Ravus were your responsibility. However, the young girl proved to you just how mature she was beyond her years when she countered that Ravus needed you more than she did.

“There is only so much that I can do for him,” she had admitted to you tearfully. “But you… you are his heart. Please, (Name), I beg of you. Please do not leave my brother’s side.”

“Lady Lunafreya…” You had held onto her as she fell apart in your arms. Right then and there, you swore that you would remain steadfast in your devotion to Ravus regardless of what life would throw at you.

“I promise.”

If only it were so easy.

At present, the young boy you came to know and love was nonexistent in the Ravus that stood before you today. Gone were the warm smiles and gentle eyes, now replaced by hardened glares and permanent scowls.

The death of his mother had clearly changed Ravus. Though you held him close to your heart, you struggled to reach him beyond the icy walls he had put up around his own heart. Still, you stood by him and remained at his side amidst all the changes he went through.

“My Prince,” you murmured timidly, stepping into Ravus’ office. “Your sister requests your presence for supper.”

“Tell her to proceed with her meal,” replied Ravus from a pile of papers he had not looked up from.

“My Prince, if I may.” Shutting the door behind you, you made your way across the room and settled in front of his desk. “It’s been several days since you last shared a meal with Lady Lunafreya. She merely misses your company, and-”

“How many times must I tell you?” Ravus abruptly stood up and sent you a cold glare. Though you had become used to such painful gazes, you had to admit that they still pierced at your heart rather agonizingly. “I am no longer a prince, and you must address me accordingly by my new title instead.”

It was hard to keep your face neutral when the sadness in your heart overflowed for Ravus.

“My apologies, High Commander,” you muttered softly, offering a bow. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

“If only some would die easier than others,” you heard him grumble under his breath.

His harsh tone made you wince, but you did nothing to address his statement. Sending him an affirmative nod, you said, “I bid you a good evening, then, High Commander.”

Noticing your wounded look, Ravus softened his voice and called out to you almost apologetically. “Have you forgotten?” He combed a hand through his hair, which had grown much longer over the years. “I am Ravus to you in private.”

So there was still a bit of the old Ravus somewhere in there. The thought made you smile, albeit a bit sadly.

“Please don’t forget to eat something, Ravus.” Your eyes softened as they met his. “Feel free to summon me if my help is required.”

At that, you made yourself scarce, unaware of the look of longing in Ravus’ eyes as he stared after you.

*

Just a few hours later, Ravus had called for you once more, requesting for dinner. You delivered his meal to his office without a word, only to be stopped by him as he requested that you join him and have a bite as well.

“I’ve already eaten, Ravus.”

“Would you do me the honor of gracing me with your company, then?” He pulled out a chair for you, the hard strain in his eyes growing tender for a few moments.

Only you still got to see this side of Ravus. Only you could do this to him.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you sat there in his office, basking in the quiet. Though no words were shared, the company you offered each other made for a fairly pleasant night.

*

When word of Lunafreya’s imminent union with Prince Noctis of Insomnia came to light, you grew worried. Not just for Lunafreya, but for Ravus as well. Ever since the death of his mother, he had come to loathe the Caelum line and, in effect, Noctis himself.

His bitterness and rage towards the Lucian royal family had consumed him over the years. You had seen firsthand how such dark thoughts and feelings had changed Ravus, so with the announcement of his sister’s engagement to the Crown Prince, you became distraught over how your own prince would handle the news.

One day, you noticed the younger Nox Fleuret carrying a suitcase as she made her way across Fenestala Manor. She appeared to be dressed for travel, prompting you to wonder what her intentions were. As far as you knew, Lunafreya had no meetings scheduled for today. She made no mention of going out, either.

With your brows furrowed, you caught up to her and asked, “Princess, where are you off to?”

“(Name)!” she squeaked in surprise. “I am in need of your help, kind (Name). Please, allow me to leave as I must speak to King Regis immediately!”

“King Regis…?” you repeated, trying to process the growing urgency on her face. “Is this about your engagement to Prince Noctis?”

“It is more than that.” Lunafreya nodded, taking ahold of your hand. “Please, (Name), I must make my way to Insomnia as soon as possible. Will you assist me?”

Your mind scrambled to sort out your thoughts. “I… I cannot, my Princess,” you informed her regretfully, feeling a pang at the frown that took residence on her face. “But it is only because I swore that I would remain by your brother’s side. You remember, do you not?”

“Of course I do. I am eternally grateful for your honor and devotion to Ravus.”

You bit your lip, sending a prayer to the gods above that all would work well. “Still, I cannot simply abandon you in your time of need.” You pulled her to the side and stealthily made your way to the lower floors of the manor. “I may not be able to escort you to Lucis, but I can at least ensure that you find your way out of Tenebrae.”

Lunafreya’s expression brightened at your words. “Thank you, (Name). I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. Now come, we must make haste.”

Both you and Lunafreya had evaded the imperial guards that monitored the hallways of the manor. Just as you were nearly at the door, the two of you were stopped by none other than Ravus himself.

Snatching Lunafreya from your grasp, he dragged her towards a nearby room, but not before sending you a scathing look.

“And you,” he snarled, “I will have a word with you once I have settled things with my sister.”

The dread that churned at the pit of your stomach almost hurt as more as the pain in your heart due to Ravus’ anger directed towards you.

*

“What were you thinking?!” he barked, slamming the door of his office.

You opted to create a small distance between you and Ravus, growing cautious of his boiling rage. Drawing closer to his desk, you answered, “I merely offered my assistance where it was needed, Ravus. It is as I have done for you and your family all these years.”

Ravus sneered at your response. “Were you foolish enough to allow Lunafreya into the clutches of our mother’s murderer?”

The neutral mask you wore began to crumble with the beginnings of a frown. “Ravus, I understand that you blame King Regis for the death of our queen, but-”

“Understand? You think you understand?”

This was the first time you had ever truly been on the receiving end of Ravus’ fury. It wounded you deeply, causing you to wither away at his spiteful voice. His build, which had grown sturdier even more, now felt menacing as he towered over you.

Still, you reminded yourself of your promise to Lunafreya, no matter how much Ravus was now hurting you.

“You think you understand what my sister and I have been through?” he continued with a scoff. “Are you so stupid to believe that you are so special simply due to our history together?”

Your eyes began to water by then, but you remained rooted in your spot. “I-I…”

“If that is what you believe,” he snapped, “then you are much more idiotic than I thought you to be.”

This time, you flinched. You kept your head bowed in order to hide the steady stream of tears that rolled down your face. “R-Ravus, please…” you hiccuped, “I know you are hurting, but please…”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING!”

A sob threatened to escape your throat, but you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep it in. “Please,” you whimpered pathetically, “do not hurt me like this, Ravus.”

Your plea seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, for Ravus broke you down even further with one simple but cruel statement.

“I do not need you any longer.”

“Wh-What?”

“You are hereby dismissed of your duties,” he continued, voice devoid of emotion. “Until a more suitable role for you can be found, you will remain at the manor for the time being.”

You were openly weeping by now. “Ravus, you cannot mean this.”

“I do,” he retaliated coldly. “Now get out.”

You lifted your pain-stricken gaze, only to pull away the moment your eyes met Ravus’ seething glare. Where was the Ravus you loved? This wasn’t him. The Ravus you loved wouldn’t hurt you so brutally without any heed to your sensitive emotions. The Ravus you loved wouldn’t strip you of the one thing that gave your life meaning throughout the years.

What were you to do now, if you could not remain by his side?

Sniffling, you shuffled your way towards the doorway where Ravus stood. You lowered your head once more as you bumped against him. But, before taking your leave, you offered some parting words to Ravus that would haunt him forevermore.

“You… You will always be my heart, dear Ravus. I pray that you find peace and happiness.”

*

In the days leading to Lunafreya’s escort to Lucis, you steered clear of both her and Ravus. Ultimately, you were no longer bound to them, at least by Ravus’ words.

‘I have failed you, my Princess,’ you thought glumly, looking up at the night sky. ‘How can I remain by your brother’s side if he no longer wants me there?’

Soon, Fenestala Manor grew quiet with the departure of the remaining Nox Fleurets as they traversed to Insomnia. It didn’t take long before news of the nation’s fall reached your region, causing you to plunge into a pit of despair as the tragedy sent a blow to your very core.

King Regis, dead. Even the sweet Prince Noctis was said to have passed on. But what truly broke you was the news that your dearest Lunafreya was gone as well.

Maria, who had remained in your company the past few days, could do little to console you as you drowned in your hysteria. This couldn’t be true. You refused to believe it. No, Lunafreya was still alive. She had to be.

And what of Ravus? Where was he now? Had he fallen amidst Niflheim’s betrayal as well?

You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

‘Please,’ you begged to the heavens above, ‘please, keep them safe. They’re all I have.’

*

Some of your worries had been eased at the return of Ravus. Though he retained his cold demeanor, he brought with him a new prosthetic — one that you couldn’t help but marvel at as you stood before him in his office yet again.

Though news of his arrival had reached you, you had forced yourself to remain at your quarters and not seek him out. With the memory of your last conversation still painfully fresh, you chose not to look for Ravus, providing him the space and privacy he had forcefully set between the two of you.

Your efforts were put to rest when Ravus himself summoned you. Here you now were, avoiding his gaze as you fidgeted nervously in front of him.

The silence was incredibly overbearing, but you feared that if you spoke, he would only lash out at you again. Thus, you kept mum, giving Ravus the floor to voice his thoughts, whatever they may be.

At first, he sighed. Then, with a few careful steps, he approached you. Raising a hand — from his flesh limb, notably — he caressed the side of your cheek in a motion so affectionate, you had to question if this was really the same Ravus you had last perceived before the blatant dismissal of your obligations to him.

“You appear well,” he commented softly, his hand leaving your face.

You couldn’t help but long for his touch. Still, all you could do was nod, feeling as if your voice and words would merely betray you if you tried to speak.

“I…” You could hear his fists clench. “Will you look at me? Please?”

At this, you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Based on the memory of your last meeting, you had expected to see bitter rage in his stare. You were proven wrong, however, as you found nothing but throbbing emotion looking back at you.

There it was. The same fondness he used to look at you with. The same tenderness and affection his dual-colored eyes had always revered you in.

There was also one other thing you found in his soft gaze, but you dared not voice your thoughts in fear that you were simply dreaming.

In his eyes, you found love.

“I am sorry.” His voice broke. The last time you were a witness to Ravus’ tears was shortly after the death of his mother. Now, such waterworks were making a return, though you found it hard to fathom that these tears were due to his own grieving for you.

“I was wrong,” Ravus went on, reaching out to you but stopping short, as if he was afraid you would reject him. You eased his fears by meeting him halfway, reaching up on your heels to hold his face in your hands. “I do need you, (Name). I will always need you.”

His hands enveloped yours as you both cried for each other. “Ravus…”

“I meant none of it. Not a single word I had uttered that day held any truth. Please, believe me.”

“I know, Ravus,” you sobbed. “I know.”

You don’t know what it was that had happened to him in Insomnia to cause this sudden turnaround in Ravus, but you weren’t going to question it. All that mattered was that he was here now, with you.

“I realize now that it was I who was the foolish one. It was always me. Never, ever you.” This large man, whose mere presence held a threatening aura towards his foes, was now a snivelling mess in your hands. “I beg for your forgiveness.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” you assured him tenderly, wiping away the tears that had leaked during your exchange of words. “I am relieved that you, too, are well.”

“I will never forgive myself for hurting you that day,” he admitted, pulling you closer. You felt your lip quiver as you recalled the relentless words he had directed to you back then.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of such memories. “None of that,” you told both Ravus and yourself. “What matters is that you are here now.”

“There is so much that has been lost, but I will not allow you to be lost to me as well. Not anymore.” He paused for a bit, moving his grasp from your hands to your face, albeit hesitantly. “What you said then, did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“You… You own my heart, (Name),” he confessed at last, leaning his forehead on yours. “I would like to know if your sentiments remain the same, though I know I am undeserving of them.”

A sweet smile began to surface amidst your tears. Carefully bringing your face closer to his, you whispered against his lips, “You are my dearest heart, Ravus, as you have been and always will be. Nothing will change that.”

What lay ahead seemed bleak, what with Niflheim’s rise and the still unknown whereabouts of Lunafreya. But, as you remained glued to Ravus, your mouth locked with his in a passionate exchange, all you could do was melt into him and allow your feelings of love to come undone once and for all.

Come what may, you would remain by his side until the very end. What made it easier this time around was the knowledge that he would do the same for you.

At the end of the day, it was just as Lunafreya had told you all those years ago. You were his heart, just as he was yours.

[kyloren]

«let’s drive to the countryside, leave behind some green-eyed lookalikes» 

summary: “I wish we could just go. Just hop on a motorcycle and just leave Riverdale.” “So why don’t we?”

Wherein, Jughead and Betty leave; and they don’t look back. 

note: So my perfectionistic ass didn’t sit and ruminate over every single word for eighty-four years, but instead wrote, edited, send to it to my lovely beta, smol bunny bean, @lilibug--xx who gave her seal of approval, and then, I published it. All of this amounts to me dying from anxiety. 

BUT, bottom line — this is me, fixing s02e05.

read it on ao3. 

“Love is a river, I wanna keep flowing.

Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey.

I’ll be there when the world stops turning,

I’ll be there when the storm is through.

In the end, I wanna be standing, 

At the beginning with you.” 

The bell chimed above Jughead merrily as he walked through the door into Pop’s. 

“Betty Cooper,” Jughead drawled, tilting his head a little, “you are a sight for sore eyes.”

She rounded on him, smiling beatifically, and Jughead felt like all air had been punched out of his lungs.

Betty was beaming up at him as she got out of her seat; blindingly bright, and affectionate, and oh so very sweetly. There was a dimple in her left cheek and the corners of her blue eyes crinkled some, long eyelashes curling at the ends like a seahorse’s tail. When she pulled him into an unexpected, one-armed embrace, Jughead had felt her unduly strong fingers grip his back through both his jacket and threadbare shirt, and relaxed, at the familiarity of her touch.

Immediately, Jughead let his hands to settle on the dip of her waist, circling it; and his nose brushing against the soft skin stretched over the sharp jut of her collarbone. Betty smelled of crystallised honey-lemon sweets, fresh nectarines and sugarplums, and home.

He had missed her. How he had missed her.

Planting a kiss onto her cheek, Jughead’s mouth instinctually twisted into a crooked half-smile, “Thanks for coming to meet me—”

The rest of the sentence was swallowed by her mouth as Betty cradled his face between her hands and pulled him into her.

I love you, she thought. I love you. I love you.

The kiss tasted of smoke from his cigarette and sugar that clung to her lips, and immediately, she can feel his hands anchoring on the small of her back, fingers catching the material of her sweater. His mouth was hungry and desperate, as he pulled her closer, body pressed flush against her, firm and hot and close. Betty was no longer sure who was kissing whom, but it was open-mouthed and all-consuming, and she let the kiss linger for longer than was seemly. She did not want ever to stop.

His breathing was ragged when he finally pulled back, nose brushing against her own, eyes wild. It always made her heart surge and swell with ardour, how Jughead looked at her like he didn’t quite believe she was real.

(She was sure she mirrored the look right back.)

“I am so very glad you called,” Betty whispered, softly, pulling away and tucking away her smile. Jughead felt the loss keenly, as if the sun had been snuffed out.

Still, she did not step away, but instead busied herself by brushing over the contours of his face, the bones of his skull, neck, and shoulders, with fluttering, gentle hands. Jughead was not quite sure if she meant to check for injuries or to reassure herself of his presence; either way, he was not begrudging the attention.

He felt her slim fingers circle his wrist and tug him towards the booth she’d been previously occupying.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said as he took his seat, giving voice to his thoughts, “I’ve just been feeling — I don’t know… unmoored.”

“Me, too.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” Jughead quipped, half-joking, a smirk hiding away in the corner of his mouth.

A shadow fell across Betty’s features and her voice hitched an octave when she asked, “What do you mean?”

For a moment Jughead can only stare at her, brow furrowed as he hones in on her face, trying to uncover whatever it was she had been hiding in her eyes. “That… exposé that you published about your mom, that article you wrote…”

“Oh, ummm… ” Betty said, casting her gaze downward, fumbling for words, “that’s a long story, but, yeah, pretty intense.” Then, “What happened to your hand?” 

The most convincing lies, books have taught Jughead Jones early on, must carry a grain of truth. 

“Oh, I’m dog-sitting. Do you remember Hot Dog, that mutt?” he asked and Betty sighed softly, tension palpably easing out of her shoulders. “Don’t worry. He’s got his shots.” 

Betty bit her lip, fixing her stare on their entwined hands, and whatever brief spark of joy that had been blazing in her moments prior, had fizzled and dimmed into uncertainty. 

Betty was gloriously lovely; she had a winsome smile, a charming demeanour, and, to him, was utterly ravishing, always. In part, because she was the only one he had ever found desirable, but mostly because before Betty, he had not known it was humanly possible to love and want one person interminably and in such overwhelming abundance. 

But it would seem undisclosed sorrow had etched itself into her bones, giving her an air of haunting tragedy. She was all the more beautiful for it. But achingly sad, too; and Jughead loved her best, happy. 

She’s hiding something, he thought, worriedly, because Betty was incredibly easy to read when one looked at her the way Jughead did. But then again, so am I. 

Lies, secrets, truths omitted — when had this become us?   

Still, the moment stretched and silence hung between them.

As it played, Jughead could not help but catch the lyrics of the song buzzing softly in the background: When you lose, when you rush. When you don’t feel strong enough. Everybody needs a pick me up, you can count on me— 

The fingers of his fist flexed, involuntarily, tightening their grasp on Betty’s small hand. 

Come what may come what might. Everybody falls down sometimes— 

“Don’t lose hope it’ll be alright,” quietly sang-along Pop’s from behind the counter as he wiped down the counter. “You can count on me.” 

It was very hard not to regard this moment as some ominous foreshadowing. 

Life was not a story, Jughead reminded himself, not for the first time; it did not follow the rhythmic beats of a plotted narrative. Seemingly innocuous details were not designed presages for future events, they were merely arbitrary trivialities, instead. 

Life is not a story. I have long learned that long ago, to my sorrow. 

Still, he could already feel the claws of the narrative sinking into him, twisting and pulling and remoulding him.

“I wish—” Jughead stuttered, then, cut himself off, swallowing harshly, his words jerking Betty out of her thoughts with a chilling start. Jughead never wished for anything; it was a heartbreaking quality Betty both readily admired about him and pitied greatly.

When he spoke again, his eyes were growing glassy and far-away, “I wish we could just go. Just hop on a motorcycle and just leave Riverdale. Go someplace where there’s no Northside, or Southside… or Serpents, Ghoulies—”

“No crazy moms,” Betty sniffed, smiling a little, “no Black Hoods.”

The way she looked at him now made fear and dread tighten in Jughead’s belly. It made him want to scoop Betty up and tuck her into himself; to open up his own chest, expose blood, visceral, and bone, and hide his girlfriend away in nook close to the muscle of his heart, to shield her from everything and everyone.

“Like Romeo and Juliet,” Betty whispered, soft as a petal’s kiss, “but we live happily ever after instead.”

There was a tear rolling down the high curve of her cheekbone, burning a salty, downward path on Betty’s flushed skin and… and there was something haunting in her gaze, searchingly saturated in colour and sentiment — the greens and the blues spiralled, twisted, and gyrated; an ineffable, wildering emotion flowing, streaming from her into him.

It set a wild thumping in Jughead’s chest, like his heart was scrambling to escape his ribcage and rush to her. A river, he thought, flowing through us.

“So why don’t we?”

“What?”

“Why don’t we leave?” he repeated himself, staring at Betty intently. “We can. I do have my bike and some cash…”

“We can’t,” she stuttered, but she hadn’t pulled back. “We’re fifteen—”

“Sixteen,” corrected Jughead, because of course he would.

“You are sixteen and emancipated,” Betty pressed. “I am neither. My mother—I can’t just—I have no choice—!”

“Betty,” softly interrupted Jughead, lacing his fingers through hers as he cupped her palm. “We always have a choice.”

“I…”

“External forces, facticities, personal histories, circumstances, and responsibilities — whatever may be limiting our capabilities, but the bottom line is still this; — nothing can force you to follow a course. This is the tragic beauty of the human condition: we inherently posses the inescapable freedom of choice.

“To think otherwise is self-deceiving,” he added, smiling a little, “it would be acting in bad faith.”

“Oh, yeah,” Betty asked, an eyebrow twitching upwards into an arch in spite of herself, “who taught you that?���

Jughead winked. “Sartre, actually.”

She opened her mouth to say, Of course, you’d bring philosophy into this, but what tumbled out instead was:

“I’m in trouble.”

.

.

“The key,” Jughead began once Betty concluded her stilted, emotionally-charged account of Black Hood’s demands of her, “is to change the situation.”

Upon being met with a blank look from her, Jughead continued, “As it is, the game—”

“This is not a game!”

“I know that,” Jughead said, leveling his best keep-it-together-sweetheart stare on her, “but does he?”

Jughead’s tone was cool, having composed himself but moments prior in that deep, bone-chilling way only he could. It was as if he shut down off his emotions to the problem and stepped away from situation to examine it from a distance — his ability to control himself like that had always pissed Betty off because she could never do that, she always found that she cared too much about everything.

“No,” she whispered, hunching her shoulders, “no, I don’t think he does.”

They were camped out in his trailer, on the recently steam-cleaned floor carpeting by the threadbare couch, Jughead’s long legs stretched out in front of him as he scrolled through Betty’s phone, marking down time stamps and length of call from Unknown Number in a spiralled notebook he set against his thigh. Betty was tucked into his side; she folded her legs against herself, a skinny arm wrapped around herself in a hug and tucking her chin into the valley between the rounded bones of her kneecaps.

Unwittingly, her left hand twitched — it was resting on Jughead’s thigh. The warm weight of it beneath her palm was familiar; reassuring. If she closed her eyes, Betty could almost pretend they were engaged in another investigative session in the old The Blue & Gold offices, just like old times.

Almost, she thought, but not quite.

For one, there was a large, hairy sheepdog resting by her feet, sleeping soundly.

“What will happen to the dog?” she blurted, out of blue.

“Hot Dog?” Jughead asked, raising his eyebrows as he stole a glance at her profile. “I imagine Toni will take him in.”

“Toni ?”

“Or Sweet Pea, or Fangs, or any other deranged member of Baby Serpents Club.”

Betty snorted, “Doesn’t that include you?”

“Perhaps,” Jughead conceded, smirking, “but we won’t be here, now, will we?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, softly, “we won’t.”

.

.

“Well,” Jughead said, sealing the sturdy, brown-paper envelope in front of him, “that’s the last of it.”

It had been filled with a notebook containing everything both she and Jughead recorded about Black Hood, her unlocked phone with the evidence, and a thumb drive housing a video on which Betty tearfully explained all the ways Black Hood had been terrorising her and what he threatened her with — enough documentation to verify that Betty, in fact, had not been kidnapped. 

A necessary precaution against Alice Cooper and her absolute lack of chill.

Betty hummed in acknowledgement, but otherwise didn’t reply. She was lying on the couch, either staring off into space or studying the trailer’s ceiling, he was not quite sure, her hair untangled and flowing free until it brushed the floor — soft and golden, and gleaming in the waning afternoon light.

“She’s certainly very pretty, isn’t she? ” Toni had said after she first met Betty. “Like a doll. She smiles quite a lot. ”

“Betty,” he called through sandpaper-dryness of his throat, “what’s wrong?”

To Jughead Jones, his feelings for Betty were inimitable in their singularity. To him, what he and Betty shared was incompatible and unsurpassable; Betty, both as a friend and as lover, was matchless and unrivalled. Betty was Betty — she was in a league of her own.

It sometimes slipped his mind that was not the case for most other humans. To them, Betty was the all the pretty things, big dreams, romantic ideals, girl-next-door with a happily-ever-after tale; blonde and perky, and seemingly perfect. They did not know her like he did, and liked her for all the things she appeared to be, rather than for what and who she was. Even earnest, good-natured Archie believed more in the illusion than the truth.

No wonder Black Hood was making her his Christine.

But the girl in front of his wasn’t quite his Betty — it was like a shade of her had been drawn; wan and drained, and most broken he’d seen her in a while. She tried to blink the brightness from her eyes, but to no avail; he had already noticed — when Jughead looked at Betty, he saw her, more clearly than he saw anything.

He glanced at her hands; mercifully, they were blood free. She’d been twisting the hem of one of his shirts that she put on the minute they entered the trailer, pulling at the fabric until Jughead was sure it’d been stretched permanently. Turning fully to face her, Jughead had eased onto his knees, hovering over her. He took her chin between thumb and forefinger, and although she had not stopped him, she closed her eyes, her mouth twitching.

“Nothing,” she murmured, and caught his hand, pressing a quick kiss to his rough palm. Then, confronted with the feeling his furrowed brow scowling down on her, insisted a little more firmly, “nothing’s wrong.”

“Betty,” he implored, soft and gentle, in a quiet tone he reserved solely for her. “Please.”

She could be as delicate as spun glass, but Betty’s sweet, gentle, and spirited nature belied how her mettle was as firm and unyielding as tempered steel. She, much like him, had a resilient core, on which he counted on to see when she opened her eyes.

Jughead was not disappointed.

“He won’t like it — that we’re leaving.”

“So? He’s welcome to convey his feelings to my face and I’ll kick his ass.”

A wretched sound crawled out of her throat: half frantic, high-pitched laugh, half-sob; utterly heart-wrenching. “I just want him to leave me alone.”

“He will,” he assured her, “once we’re gone.”

“But Polly—!”

“He wants you,” Jughead said leaning forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. His fingers ran small, soothing circles against the side of her head, right behind the shell of her ear. “He wants you, Betty. What use is Polly to him if you aren’t here?”

“He might hurt her,” came Betty’s broken whisper.

“He won’t. If she was a target, he would have hurt her already.”

Her face was warm beneath her lips, and as Jughead touched her cheek, trailed the back of his fingers along her jaw, she leaned into him, drawing even closer. She breathed deep and steady, keeping anxiety at bay, the sound of her filling the trailer’s tight space.

A slow, but unmistakable shiver crept up his spine like a snake coiling around his heart. Ever since she’d told him what has been happening to her, he felt the hot, sizzling sting bubble in him — it had always secreted itself inside of him, that red rush of absolute murder that sung in him ever so often, setting his blood ablaze. Now, it refused to leave him, wreathing inside and setting his ordinarily focused mind into a storm, connecting the events of the past and splintering the future. A dull throb began to beat inside his head, matching rhythm with his pounding heart.

Jughead had never been anything close to tame by any stretch of the truth, but in comparison to other boys at Southside High, he came off as mild-mannered. There was, however, a chasmic disparity between appearance and reality. And Jughead was thoroughly F.P. Jones’s son, no matter how desperately he tried to refute and reject it.

When it gets down to the bone, he thought, thumb running across Betty’s knuckles, pressing his lips to the sharp ridge of her cheekbone, all real snakes are the same.

.

.

“The Joneses are fucked by the fickle finger of fate,” snorted Jughead, twisting the key in the trailer’s lock with a sense of finality, of bringing something weighty to its interminable end, “many a time and throughout the generations.

“But there’s one thing we do best,” he paused then, considering, “well, three things, actually, so this will have to count as fourth — we do know how to make an exit.”

“So this is us,” Jughead said, bright eyes locking with Betty’s, both thrilling and frightening in their intensity. It felt like a start of something. “Making an exit.”

The plan was that they did not, in fact, have a plan.

Uncharacteristic of both of them, given that they were Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper, calculation and organisation personified, respectively, but having no contingency plans was liberating in its impulsivity.

A novel feeling to both of them, in truth.

They decided against taking the truck, by in large because while Jughead had acquired the appropriate documentation and licences for the motorcycle, he was yet to do so for his dad’s beat-up Ford — but also, because the bike was notably faster. Jughead had scavenged up an old Steib sidecar his dad has used for him and Jellybean when they were little, and by unanimous vote, they had decided to use it to house their personal belongings and supplies, while Betty rode on the back with him.

Now, Jughead was leaning against his bike, arms folded at his chest, straining the denim with the breadth of his shoulders, and waiting for Betty to emerge from the lightless depths of her house with a packed bag.

When Betty finally bounded down the front steps on coltish legs, she was dressed similarly to him; dark jumper, dark jeans, sturdy boots, and a fur-lined jacket. Without preamble, she threw an old carpet bag into the sidecar, landing it on top of Jughead’s hiking rucksack.

She turned sharply to greet him and was startled by finding that a single, white flower filled her vision with its loveliness. Betty blinked, confused. “Who’s that for?”

“You,” said Jughead, and tucked the gardenia bloom behind the shell of her ear.

Swooning a little over the gesture, she drawled, smilingly. “Smooth.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, but a corner of his mouth quirked up, almost shyly. “I try.”

Back in the trailer, only hours ago, Jughead had told Betty: “The key is to change the situation.”

What that meant was this: “We take you out of equation, Betty. We take away his pawn, we change the rules of the game — then, it’s no longer his game. It’s ours. We dictate the rules. He’s doing it for you. What if there’s no you to do it for?”

(That was the thing about Jughead Jones, Betty remembered then, he always saw startlingly clearly through everyone. Even if he did not see himself clearly at all.)

“Last chance to back out,” Jughead murmured, drawing Betty near in spite of his words, his legs bracketing her hips. “You sure about this?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered softly, then, her eyes widened and she scrambled to clarify, “I just mean… I’m not so sure about everything, any more.”

Jughead locked his gaze on her, keeping silent. Surprisingly, Betty was neither distressed nor discomfited by the intensity of a stare that even had her mother balking. With Jughead, there was no pretence. He knew who she was, what she was, what she could do, and what she would do — he knew her.

Such a degree of familiarity and intimacy between them was liberating in and of itself.  

Finally, he said, voice rougher than she anticipated, “I’m sure about us.”

Betty smiled at him, her eyes glittering; thick lashes curled in twin half-moons so thick they left shadows on her cheekbones. “I’m sure about us, too. It’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

Jughead’s smile was much the same as when they were kids — slow and heady and honeylike, and just as sweet. It filled her with joy; rushed through like a flood, eddies swirling, and flowing to every corner of her being.

I love him, she thought, heart swelling. I love him.  

Months ago, she had told her mother Jughead was her family. That was no longer strictly true — he was more than family to Betty, he was a part of her. He had burrowed himself into her, crawled into her heart; he flowed through her veins and lived in the marrow of her bones, cut through her teeth, dusted on her skin, and woven through her hair. Jughead was under her nails and caught in the back of her throat. There was no escaping how she felt for him.

When they kissed again, his mouth was soft and hot, and he tasted tart and electric, like aged brandy. His lips were softer than they were that morning, gentler, too, and he impatiently tugged off his glove before cupping the side of her face, dipping down to kiss her again, feathering soft kisses until her mouth opened under his, warm and pliant. 

Theirs was an insolvable, unabating love.

Whatever our souls are made of, Betty reflected, his and mine are the same.

That had to be enough.

.

.

.

.

Six hours before sunrise, a motorcycle engine flared to life. It roared, a dragon breathing smoke and brimstone as it sped past the sign reading Welcome To Riverdale: The Town With Pep!.

.

.

.

fin.

sidebar: I recently re-watched Anastasia, the 1997 animated feature, and found Richard Marx’s At The Beginning to be unexpectedly fitting of Bughead, in the cheesiest, fluffiest of ways. 

[lavieendonna]

Brushwork || ArtMajor!Calum AU (Chapter 30)

Summary: An Art Major AU where Dallas - third year gawky art student at VCA - makes a deal with Calum - her cute new neighbour and project partner - and they spend the semester learning that the perfect masterpiece takes a whole lot of brushwork.

Date: 12 July 2020 Requested: no one cares   Pairing: Calum + Dallas Words:smol boi 2.2K Warnings: A/N: THIS ! IS ! THE ! END !

Big Love xo

Ask | Masterlist | ‘Brushwork’ Spotify Playlist | Next Chapter | ‘Brushwork’ News | ‘Snapshot’

Chapter 30: It Was A Miracle I’d Lasted This Long Without Killing Myself. On Accident Or Otherwise.

“It’s not going to be that bad, Dallas,” My sister tried to reassure me as she and I collected the last of my boxes to pack into Mum’s Range Rover downstairs (which she may or may not have known we’d borrowed; Belle was pretty vague when I’d asked upon her arrival).

“Yes, it will,” I countered. Naturally, my sister sighed a rather dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, alright, there’s a tiny chance it’ll be a little weird to begin with,” she huffed. “But we’ll get over it – we’re friends! And the weather is gonna be great, anyway.”

I made a face, pausing in our trek toward the front door.

“And the weather has something to do with this is because…?” I arched my brow incredulously.

“It’s the sun!” Belle stated very matter-of-factly, eyes pointed as if that should have been obvious to me. “We’ll get some extra vitamins and endorphins – you know, all that science shit.” Only my sister could attempt to make sense while making no sense at all. I let out a rather unattractive snort and, not for the last time in my life, Belle rolled her eyes at me.

“You know what I mean,” her eyes narrowed at me, all in good faith, as she stuck her tongue out when I pulled another face. “It’s gonna be fun.”

She had a point, and I wasn’t too proud to admit that. Things were looking up, we were all back on speaking terms with one another (sans Polly, who I was still slightly terrified would hear about our little shindig at my mother’s house and come screaming back to gauge out my eyes for celebrating after her emotional departure) and the weather was finally starting to resemble something closer to Summer instead of the unpredictable mood swings of Spring. But – and this was not news to anybody – I was not a social person, and my idea of celebrating the end of an era did not involve any type of party, get-together, barbeque or shindig whatsoever. Parties were just one of the many, many situations that could, and would, lead to me completely embarrassing myself one way or another. It was a miracle I’d lasted this long without killing myself – on accident or otherwise.

“I already have plans, remember?” I said, resuming our slow walk back to the doorway. “So, you know. Sorry.” I offered a half-assed one-shouldered shrug before stepping out into the hall and watching as Belle closed the door behind us and locking it. She didn’t even blink when she looked back at me, dark eyes passive and unimpressed.

“Your plans will only take like an hour.” she deadpanned. “You’ll be back in time to attend your own damn party.”

I narrowed my eyes, scowling.

“Okay, first of all, it’s your party –”

“Our party,” Belle interjected but I ignored her.

“– and second, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” My scowl turned into a pout. “I hate needles.”

I wasn’t sure why I thought Isabelle James, the most ruthless person I knew, would feel sorry for me and let me off the hook, especially considering this appointment was my own doing. But, alas, it was the only excuse I had left and I’d be damned if I didn’t at least try it out.      

“Girl, you need to grow some balls.” My sister scolded me and I blinked back my offence at the vulgar language. “I have my own shit to do and, more importantly, booze to buy. If you’re that worried then take Calum with you. You know, the experienced one.”

I hated that Belle was making valid points left, right and centre. It made me feel like I had lost all common sense. Then again, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that maybe I really didn’t have any to begin with.

“Fine.” I grumbled with pursed lips. “But you better buy some good shit, ‘cause I’m gonna be in some serious pain.”

“Oh, get over yourself, you’re paying for it!”

Our laughs and banter echoed through the stairwell, right up until we made it through the front entrance and down the street to the car. It was nice being able to laugh and talk like this with Belle again, and even though Polly wasn’t around anymore it still felt like the old days when it was like this all the time. It was easy and no one was hiding anything from anyone. She was my friend again, not just my annoying sister.

“Alright,” Belle slammed the boot of the car closed before sliding her Aviators over her eyes, her hands resting on her hips in a fashion not unlike our mother. “I’m going to Liquorland. I’ll see you at the house?” My shoulders bounced offhandedly and I made a face.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, pausing to shudder in fear. “If I don’t die in the process.”

I was more terrified than I initially thought I would be less than an hour before my first tattoo was to be embossed on my skin forever. A few days ago when I’d confirmed the appointment I was thrilled to be stabbed several times with tiny needles but now, all of a sudden, my pants looked like the inside of a three-year-old’s nappy.

Isabelle put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and offered a soft smile. I couldn’t see her eyes, but she reminded me even more like our mother now, wisdom radiating off of her as she prepared her speech.

“Well, in that case, I’ll meet see you in hell.” Belle grinned at me from ear to ear, one of her signature shit-eating smiles that I should have been deeply offended by considering her God-awful ‘encouragement’. But I wasn’t offended, I wasn’t even upset. I let out a loud laugh and pushed her enough to make her stumble into the back of the car.

“You’re the worst.” I chuckled and Belle flipped an imaginary ponytail over her shoulder dramatically.

“I think you mean the best.” She teased, sidling her way over to the driver’s side door and hopping inside. I waved through the tinted windows as my sister started the engine, and just as I spotted her fingers sticking out of the sunroof in some kind of wave back, she took off aggressively into the street and disappeared down the hill within a matter of seconds.

I was still standing on the footpath staring off into the street when a familiar cheery voice interrupted my trance.

“You good, D?” he chirped giddily, the sound making me jump out of my skin. Spinning on my heel, I glanced up at Calum to find him standing closer than I expected. He wore his iconic black Kurt Cobain tee, the one that showed off the art that lined his cinnamon skin, and those signature black skinny jeans, the ones with the rips right in the knees that had clearly gotten bigger over time. His Vans were dirty, but still black, and a denim jacket was tied loosely around his waist. All in all, he was his same perfect self.

“You know, Cal, one of these days you’ll learn to announce yourself before you scare me shitless.”  I said pointedly, making him laugh his music box laugh. Brown eyes rolled sarcastically as his shoulders shrugged.

“Or, maybe, one of these days you’ll learn not to be so nervous.” He shot back.

“Please,” I waved Calum off with a light chuckle. “‘Nervous’ is my middle name.”

“And you’re proud of that?” Calum’s eyebrow arched playfully before he offered a wink so quickly I nearly missed it. My heart fluttered in my chest, the way it always did when Calum so much as breathed near me, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my lips.

“No,” I deadpanned. “But I’m owning it at least.”

Calum laughed again, because that’s all we ever did now that the worst was over. My cheeks were almost always in pain because of how often he made me laugh and smile (I felt like an idiot, to be frank, but it wasn’t like that was out of the ordinary). Calum reached out to take my hand, our fingers intertwining as he swung them back and forth in the space between us, and the feeling of his skin pressed against mine was familiar and welcoming and it was one of those things that would always remind me that there was more to be felt than my own insecurities and fear. I no longer felt uncomfortably safe when he was around, and embracing it was like walking through a closet into a whole new world.

More than that, I felt like a whole new person. The old me – he one who carried around The List of all of my worst moments in life and struggled to string together a whole sentence to order lunch without poking an eye out – seemed like a memory or a ghost. There were times where I could feel her presence, but I found myself just choosing not to indulge in it.

“So,” Calum pulled me closer to peck me on the cheek before brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with his free hand. “Where are we off to? We should eat before the party, Lord knows Michael has plans to get everyone completely trashed tonight.”

“Of course he does.” I rolled my eyes because, well, of course Michael wanted everyone to get completely trashed. He seemed to have taken over the role of The Group Alcoholic. “But anyway, we can’t. Belle wants me to meet her back at the house so I can help set up.”

Calum made a face, plump lips pursing together in confusion.

“Uh, but didn’t she just leave?” He asked, gesturing in the direction the Range Rover had taken off in. I nodded, shifting my weight from foot to foot as a familiar nervousness simmered in the base of my gut.

“Yeah, um.” I had to clear my throat, suddenly concerned with Calum’s opinion of my plans. I knew he would be over the moon about it, but I was more worried that he’d be upset I hadn’t told him sooner. “Actually, I have something to do first. But it should only take about an hour or so.” I watched as Calum’s eyes narrowed in both suspicion and curiosity, his head tilting to the side while his brain gears worked overtime.

“What are you up to?” He asked incredulously, though a small smirk twitched in the corners of his lips.

“I, uh,” I giggled sheepishly, running a hand through my hair as I made a face. “I have my first tattoo appointment!” I said and Calum’s eyes widened, excitement rolling off of his shoulders in waves.

“What?!” He practically wailed. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Where is it? And what are you getting? You must be so excited!”

He was right, I was excited. And I was more excited that he was excited and the fact that he wasn’t hung up on me not telling him earlier.

“I am, I am.” I beamed up at him. “It’s just down the road at Classink. I’d been emailing one of the artists there for a week or so and I booked the appointment the other day.”

“What you going to get?” He asked again, unable to contain his smile. “Let me guess, a picture of my face on your butt?”

I shoved Calum in the chest but laughed as I shook my head.

“No,” I said pointedly. “It’s a butterfly.”

Calum nodded slowly and I could see him trying to envision what kind of butterfly I could possibly want to get permanently inked on my body forever, but without asking. Because as far as he knew, I’d never really spoken to him about wanting a butterfly tattoo, or even about butterflies in general. Actually the truth was, I didn’t even know I wanted a butterfly tattoo either, not until my mother had mentioned it to me what felt like forever ago.

“It’s going to be great,” I said with a small, content smile, picturing the glass butterfly in the window that was now the one thing in my life I tried to be, always. Broken, but still beautiful, and full of potential to be something even greater.

“You want me to come with you?” Calum asked, his eyes gleaming with genuine care and kindness. “First tattoos can be kind of scary.”

I thought about it for a minute, the idea of Calum holding my hand and whispering encouragement in my ear when I winced at the inevitable pain. I glanced down at our hands where our fingers were still tangled together, Calum’s thumb tracing absent patterns on the back of my skin. It was warm, and he fit perfectly between the spaces. I looked up and gazed into chocolate orbs that were looking back at me with undivided attention, and for the first time I kissed him first. It was slow and careful, but deliberate and full of purpose. Kind of like us.

“No, thanks,” I said when I pulled back, shaking my head back. Calum looked confused for a second, but I didn’t clarify. “I’m good.”  

“Are you sure?” He asked, but he was already smiling softly because he knew I was. I just nodded and he kissed me again quickly before I let go of his hand.

“I’m sure,” I said, and I didn’t wait for him to say goodbye before I turned on my heel and started walking away towards the potential for something even greater.

[annemayfair]

Parting Ways. [P.1]

@picchar @thatcalamity I did a smol thing

[Words: 1,970]

The fanfare fell quiet long ago, and the band players left the castle with all the extra servants that wore out their clothes within the past two months. An extraordinary celebration that cost more than the royal treasury could pay for already got spotlights in letters sent to Orlais and all the way to Seheron; countless people wrote to the royal chancellor, invoking ancient favors, hoping for an invitation. But they would need to defeat an Archdemon, ward off a Qunari invasion, or stop an ancient mad god in order to fit among the guests.

Or they needed to be family.

Oran celebrated like the rest. He drank sweet wines and honeymeads, washing it down with crystal-clear drinks that hailed from Rivain. He ate the Starkhaven fish pies and participated in a hunt that produced a large boar for a traditional Avvar wedding roast. He even fought a couple of nobles for everyone’s bemusement, every time securing a favor from different beautiful attendees. His legs got sore and his feet hurt from dancing that happened within last two weeks, and even Oran, the man who can talk a bird off a tree, grew tired of social mingling. So he was among the first people departing from the Royal Palace the very next morning when the fun ended.

His horse had been prepared, but he hoped to meet Rahlen and Fenlin before he rode back to Rainesfere. He stood at the back balcony, enjoying the early summer sun. Warm and yellow, it colored everything around him with a light tint. Green seemed greener, grey seemed happier, and the entire world was drowning in happiness. Yet, somehow, as he watched multiple servants prepare carriages for others who’d be leaving after the royal luncheon, he wasn’t really happy. His chest hurt, and he knew the suspiciously peppered broiled rabbit, served with Waller salad, was to blame.

“Bann Mac Eanraig,” a joyful voice sounded behind Oran. “I’m glad we could catch you before you left!”

Oran turned to see Rahlen and Fenlin walk down the marble staircase hand in hand. Rahlen’s blue and gold outfit shone in the morning sun, reflecting speckles of light onto castle walls. Fenlin looked most dashing in her corresponding greens and silver, and her hair seemed more luminous than the sun itself. Oran smiled, bowed to them, and greeted them back:

“Not Mac Eanraig yet, but I am glad to see you regardless,” he straightened back up. “I hope you survived your wedding well enough.”

“We lived, and this is what matters the most,” Rahlen laughed, coming forward to shake Oran’s hand. “But the company does seem to be tired.”

“I still can’t believe a dwarf named Oghren could drink so much,” Fenlin tiptoed to give Oran a kiss on the cheek. “Each barrel was twice his size.”

“Sounds just like our mothers’ stories, doesn’t it?” Oran smiled at them, hands placed on the hilt of his sword. “Oghren consuming copious amounts of alcohol. A fight. And a mabari sneaking torn pantaloons into pockets of their owners.”

“That sure was embarrassing,” admitted Rahlen, “but I’m still unsure where Lady acquired them. None of the guests complained.”

“Perhaps they were too ashamed,” guessed Fenlin. “Lady must’ve seen something unfathomable if she got them without a fight.”

Their conversation got interrupted by a loud crack. All three turned sharply and saw a trunk with spilled contents in the courtyard, and a few men panicked around it. Rahlen leaned over the balcony and told the men to fix the trunk, and Oran snuck a closer look at Fenlin. She appeared to be… happy. And joyful.

As she should.

“When are you leaving?” Rahlen asked, returning. “And are you sure you must depart today, and not in another month?”

“The castellans grow uneasy as your clemency approaches,” Oran explained. “They still stand by their words that I am unfit to hold a mining monopoly, that I am too weak to hold the power on my own. What’s the better way of showing them wrong than showing them who I really am?”

“There’s some logic in your ways,” Rahlen crossed his hands over his chest. “But I would prefer if you stayed for longer.”

“That would be my utmost pleasure,” Oran assured him. “But duty calls.”

He lifted his arms in the air, asking them for attention.

“There’s one more matter to attend to before I leave,” he announced. “I want to give you your presents in person while I can.”

“Oran, you’re just too nice,” smiled Fenlin. “Is it the super secret tome of Tale of the Champion you’ve been promising me?”

“Wait, there’s a second tome?” Rahlen’s jaw nearly dropped on the floor. “What’s there to put into a whole second tome?”

“I did obtain a manuscript,” Oran winked at Fenlin. “I’m waiting for it to be verified; and as soon it is proven authentic, I am ordering a copy for you.”

From his pocket, he produced a small box made of black wood. The entire surface of this box was covered in intricate carvings that showed the family tree of Couslands. Oran watched in sweet anticipation as Rahlen cautiously opened the box, and smiled as wide as he could when Rahlen looked at him in confusion.

“This is,” Rahlen licked his lips. “This is a lovely…”

“What is it?” Fenlin stood by her husband’s side and peeked at the contents of the box. “Is that a dried wormdust you mentioned, Oran?”

“No,” the bann shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “A gift from me to your family, Rahlen, and may you never need it.”

“I’m sure this is lovely, but what is it?” Fenlin persisted, furrowing her brows slightly.

A few bowing servants snuck past them, carrying trays of cutlery. They headed towards a section of the garden where the wedding guests have been having their breakfast for the last few weeks. Then a yawning mabari Oran couldn’t recognize strolled by with a huge piece of ham in its mouth. Windows started opening at the castle, above and around them, as the people started waking up.

“I won’t say too much,” Oran said. “But let’s put it this way: at Haven, my mother took a bit extra.”

He watched Rahlen’s expression change and color drain from his face. The crown prince’s fingers shook as he closed the box, tucking it away safely inside his chest pocket.

“I still don’t understand,” Fenlin admitted.

“I’ll tell you everything as we prepare for the breakfast,” Rahlen placed his hand on her waist in a semi-hug. “I promise.”

Fenlin appeared to be surprised of the change in Rahlen that happened in less than a minute. But she accepted it, knowing well that Rahlen would keep his promise and provide all information. For now, she just watched a bit of tears form in corners of both men’s eyes as they shook hands.

“This is more generosity than I’ll be able to repay,” Rahlen said with a coarse voice.

“We’re family,” Oran told him. “No repayment needed.”

A large red-faced man appeared in one of the windows just above Oran’s head. His bushy black eyebrows were covered in white powder, and his cheeks rapidly changed color from pale to tomato red. His purple hat, skewed to the side, threatened to fall off, but the man did not notice that fact. His eyes, wide with fear, changed their direction from Rahlen to servants in the courtyard to a large tree where Honeybun slept.

“Your Majesty,” the man screamed in the fakest calm voice, “your presence is needed urgently at the quarters of Tevene embassy!”

“Shall I be worried, Frederick?” Rahlen inquired with a stunned smile still on his lips.

“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty,” the red-faced man insisted.

Oran and Rahlen exchanged looks, and Oran assured his cousin that he understood everything, and that it were fine. They hugged hard, patting each other’s backs, and Rahlen kissed Fenlin before departing back into the castle. The two remained alone.

“I’ll walk you to the stables,” Fenlin said, placing her palm over Oran’s hand.

“That would be very kind,” he smiled to an old friend.

He put his hand into a proper gallant position, and with a short laughter, Fenlin accepted his offer. It seemed that a whole another life passed since their first meeting at Rowan’s, although Oran’s mind knew that it had been only couple of years. Servants and others greeted Fenlin as they passed them, and Oran noticed that despite having been here for months, it still did not sit well with the former Ambassador.

They reached the stables, occupied with a quiet conversation about their Tevene adventure and about Mythalen. Oran informed her that indeed local farmers started adopting nugalopes as drafting animals, and she told him that she has purchased a long-coveted talking golem miniature from Wonders of Thedas. They both stopped to pick up Honeybun, now much larger than Fenlin last saw her.

“When is she due?” Fenlin asked, petting Honeybun’s engorged belly.

“About two weeks,” Oran said, scratching behind his dog’s ears. Honeybun growled with pleasure, yawning. “She’s going to be such a good dog momma.”

“She will,” Fenlin kissed the dog’s head. “Oh, she will be, because she’s always been such a good miss!”

She then stood up and saw that Oran’s horse had been prepared. The old mare was lead up to them, with her reigns already in Oran’s hands. The man fidgeted with the saddle before facing her again.

“When shall we meet again?” She asked with a kind smile. “I hope your business in Rainesfere isn’t too occupying so you could visit. I’d love to introduce you to Rasha; I’m still upset you’re going to miss her by just four days.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a while,” he told her. “I don’t know how much time it’ll take to convince the landsknechts that I am a worthy leader, and I don’t know for how long I’ll get stuck in there. But we won’t see each other in a long while.”

“Well, if you can’t visit, we shall visit you, then,” she chuckled and gave Honeybun a baked mabari treats. Oran never knew where she hid them, but she always was prepared to spoil her.

He took a deep breath.

“I’d prefer you didn’t.”

Fenlin’s face was immediately overcome with doubt and surprise. She looked him straight in the eyes, searching for an explanation.

“Why?” She inquired firmly. “Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Oran weakly resisted. “I simply think we both have our own business.”

She kept the silence for a while, lip bitten as a wrinkle formed between her brows.

“Fenlin, there is nothing wrong in me not seeing you, or vice versa,” Oran followed up. “But it’ll be easier and kinder. At least to me.”

He leaned over her and gently kissed her on the forehead, placing another small wooden box in her hands. This one was made from Brecilian ironbark with flowing Dalish motif carved deep into its surface.

“I am happy to have you in the family, Fenlin,” he told her, drawing back. “I am happy for you.”

“This is,” Fenlin said slowly, “this is extremely stupid.”

“Just as it’s supposed to be,” said Oran.

He got onto his horse, and pregnant Honeybun sprung to her feet. Oran half-bowed to Fenlin:

“Goodbye, Lady Ambassador, and may the Maker watch over your steps.”

She seemed confused and angry, and Oran’s heart jumped as he turned his back to her, heading his horse towards the gate. He listened closely to discern her footsteps when she finally moved back to the castle, her light walk barely making a sound against paved courtyard floor. A lump formed in Oran’s throat.

It was for the best.

[5hfanfiction]

The Lucky Ones (Part 2)

A/N: Here’s part 2 to that one soulmate AU that no one (maybe someone) had asked for. It was originally a one shot but this was sitting my in drafts for literal months so here it is! 

I also posted this on ao3 (@mndng) and on wattpad (@taller-smol) 

CAMILA

  4:26 PM

  “I didn’t think I would find her,” I state quietly. I’m sitting on the ground, hugging my legs to my chest with eyes focused on a patch of grass in front of me.

  “I had never put much thought into it, y’know? Like, I had completely ruled it out as a possibility because the odds were always so slim. But then I’m out for dinner and she ends up being my waitress and it’s nothing like I would’ve imagined.” I huff, picking at the grass for all of two seconds until I lean my head back on the tombstone I’m sitting against.

  “I wish I had asked you what it was like when you saw dad. Because I saw Lauren and I swear I couldn’t breathe. It was like everything stopped and she was all I saw and my chest felt tight but it was nice. I felt safe, looking at her.” I take a deep breath to calm myself, exhaling through my nose.

  “She’s so beautiful, mami,” I whisper while my eyes fall shut. “Her eyes are like the ocean and the forest at the same time. They’re the kind of green I imagine Harry Potter would’ve had. Her hair is jet black too but I’m sure it’s not her real hair color. And her voice - oh my god, mami her voice.” I pause, letting out a shaky breath.

  “She’s almost intimidating until you see her smile.” A tear slides down my cheek as I remember the way Lauren’s smile disappeared when I said my name.

  “I didn’t think it would be that hard,” my voice wavers and more tears make their way down my face. “You’d hate that I did it, that I told her my name was Camila. But I saw the way dad was after you were gone and I just- I can’t.” I angrily wipe away at my tears as I choke back a sob.

  “I miss you,” I croak, curling up and pressing my forehead to the tombstone and my fingers grazing over the letters that spell Sinu. “I don’t remember what your voice sounds like and I haven’t heard papi sing in so long.” I begin weeping of all things, the kind of crying where it’s hard to breathe and it doesn’t feel too different from how I’ve felt the past eleven years.

  “I didn’t think you wouldn’t be here.” I barely manage to get the words out because now I’m bawling and near hysterics, unable to keep my emotions in check any longer. It’s cathartic the way I’m curled up against my mom’s tombstone, crying my eyes out, and I feel like I’m three years old again. But it’s also pathetic the way I’m curled up against my mom’s tombstone, crying my eyes out, and wishing I could be three years old and in her arms again.

  –

  7:32 PM

  When I make it back to my car I have 7 texts and 4 missed calls and part of me grows anxious.

  Sofi [4:47]: i kno w you werent paying attention when papi said he got invited to a holiday party but it’s tonight

Sofi [4:47]: will you please come with us???

Sofi [4:48]: they probably have a lot of food

Sofi [7:18]: they do have a lot of food

Sofi [7:21]: the food is really good

Papi [6:20]: when will u b home?

Papi [6:55]: call when u can pls

  I sigh, brows furrowing in confusion. What’s with my dad and holiday parties lately? I check the time as I ring up my dad. 7:34. It barely registered that night had fallen and I’ve been out so late.

  “Mija?”

“Hi papi, at another holiday party? I didn’t know you were so festive.”

  There’s a small laugh on his end and it’s a refreshing contrast to the tear stains across my cheeks. “Festive wasn’t necessarily my only reason.” There’s a long pause and I’m about to ask when he speaks up again.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” I bite my lip, guilt flashing through me as I readily prepare an apology.

  “And you’re right.”

  Oh.

  “I don’t want you to think that you were never enough for me, you were more than I could’ve ever asked for as a daughter and I’m so lucky to have you and Sofi both. After your mom everything just seemed to be too much and I didn’t know how to handle anything, so I wouldn’t. But I’m ready to let life be enough for me again and this holiday party was the soonest I could start. Of course I would love it if you got to be here with me but I can understand if you can’t make it out tonight. There will be othe-”

  I wipe away at quickly forming tears and am quick to cut in. “No! I can make it. Text me the address and let me drop by the house to change clothes and I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

  “Take your time, mija. And thank you, it doesn’t seem like much but it means a lot to me.”

  “Of course, papi. I love you.”

“I love you too, mija. See you soon.”

  -

8:22 PM

  I double check myself in my car mirror, making sure my eyes aren’t too red and that all my sniffles are gone but I look tired enough that anyone could guess I’ve been crying. I force myself to think my appearance is okay enough, hoping no one thinks anything of my appearance.

  “Hey, you must be Alejandro’s daughter!” A burly man immediately greets me at the door, jolly face and welcoming smile, the santa hat a nice touch. I nod shyly and smile in return as he motions me inside. I don’t notice the way his eyes show recognition to the tattoo poking out from the collar of my shirt.

  “My name’s Mike, nice to meet you!” He gives my hand a firm shake and he continues before I manage a response. “Come ahead and follow me. Your dad is talking to my wife Clara.”

  My body immediately tenses as the conversation between my father and I surfaces in my mind.

  “There’s this friend of a co-worker…”

“Her name is Clara.”

“She has a daughter… Her name is Lauren.”

  No no no no no no. Fuck no.

  I should’ve known this was a fucking trap.  

  And suddenly I’m in front of my dad talking to someone who has enough resemblance to the waitress from last week for me to know that she’s Clara. My dad sees me from his spot against the kitchen counter and I know it’s too late for me to run back to my car.

  “Ah mija you’re finally here.” My dad meets me with a concerned gaze when he notices the puffiness of my eyes and the redness of my nose, knowing very well I’ve spent my time away from them crying. I wave him off with a reassuring smile even though all I want to do is scream at him to stop meddling. The look he gives me says he won’t push it.

  “This is Clara and I see you’ve already met Mike.” My dad tells me, I give them a stiff nod in greeting and they beam back at me.

  “Where’s Sofi?” I manage through gritted teeth.

  “She’s playing with some of the other kids,” Clara tells me. “Oh, I think that’s her coming with-.”

  I turn around to find Sofi jogging towards me. “Kaki!”

  There’s suddenly a Sofi hanging off of me and I barely manage to catch her without falling on my ass. “Hey Sof. You act like you didn’t see me just this morning.”

  Sofi rolls her eyes affectionately as she hops down onto her feet. “Kaki, guess who I found!”

  I don’t want to guess.

  “It’s Lauren!”

  Fuck.

  “Hi again, Camila.”

  Fucking fuck.

My head snaps in the direction of her voice and I can practically feel the air leave my body at the sight of her. I’m reeling at the crop top she’s wearing, a festive red. The black high waisted jeans she’s wearing looking a lot like what she had on at the diner and I scold myself for noticing.

  I make a weak attempt in avoiding her eyes but how could anyone not look at them. Green and piercing and completely captivating. It suits her well to have be the most beautiful girl and have the most beautiful eyes. Though when I see them I really wish I hadn’t, for Lauren looks so…exhausted. When she meets my gaze all I see is resignation and I can feel my heart clench while guilt washes over me.

  “Camila?” I turn at the way both Mike and Clara’s voice raise in question, and there’s suddenly recognition in their eyes. My guess is that Lauren told them about me.

  Double fuck.

  Clara and Mike share a look before turning back to my dad. “You never told us your daughter’s name was Camila,” Clara notes, underlying suspicion in her voice for a particularly specific question.

  “It hadn’t come up?” My dad dodges and I’m almost thankful for him until his eyes dart back and forth between me and Lauren with a knowing look.  

  “Well Camila,” Mike clears his throat. “If you’re hungry there’s plenty of food and drinks in the kitchen.”

  “I can show her,” Lauren quickly jumps in.

  No please don’t, I think to myself.

  Sofi clings to my dad’s side and waves me off with an innocent smile as Lauren begins leading me away. I give her a very pointed look, telepathically telling her ‘traitor.’ She only smiles wider.

  I follow Lauren into the kitchen, willing myself to calm down and believe that the only things happening tonight is free food and superficial small talk with my dad’s friends. I shouldn’t have to be worried about anything because my dad promised he would drop this whole thing. Tonight should go without incident.

  At least I hope.

  -

  LAUREN

  7:24 AM

  Light peeks through my window as I stare up at my ceiling from my bed. A week has passed and I’m doing that thing where I pretend I haven’t been counting how long it’s been since I’ve seen Camila (184 hours and about 30 minutes, if anyone’s asking). Most of the week has been spent trying to figure out why seeing Camila made every fiber of my being so hyperaware of her, so wanting of her presence. I consider that maybe Camila is a different kind of soulmate; one that’s meant to be in my life, she just isn’t meant to be mine. It’s the most reasonable explanation and the hardest to accept but I won’t let myself be foolish enough to get my hopes up another time.

  Yet the idea of my soulmate being anyone but Camila is daunting to the say the least. Imagining my future with someone; being intimate, moving in together, sneaking into concerts, driving around at 3:00 AM, holidays with my parents. All I’ve ever wondered was ‘who could it be?’ After meeting Camila all I can ask is ‘who else could it be?’

  I stare at the tattoo on my arm and trace over it with my thumb. How unfortunate for Karla that her soulmate is hung up on someone else.

  With a deep sigh, I rise from my bed and begin getting ready for my day.

  I dread going into the diner today, having fallen into the habit of hoping Camila walks back in with her little sister, constantly imagining that she apologizes for the other night and simply tells me “Just kidding, my name is actually Karla.”

  It’s such a stretch and even more so a cruel joke to make but one I would readily forgive to be able to be with her.

  Guilt creeps into my mind because I’m not supposed to want her like this, like she’s meant for me. But there was something in me that just knew- I was so fucking sure. No one likes being wrong but this one really takes the cake.

  For about the hundredth time in the past week I wonder what it’s like to be one of the lucky ones.  

  –

10:11 AM

  My shift at work is slow and Vero is only barely helping me keep my sanity. We’re in the back, polishing silverware. The past week she’s avoided talking about the name tattooed on her ribcage though I can practically feel how much she has to restrain herself from doing so. She’s always enjoyed talking about it, revels in imagining what Lucy could be like.

  I used to enjoy it too, picturing what my own soulmate was like. But I think Vero knows as well as I do that any picturing I do now will only end up looking like Camila, and it stings.

  “Are you dropping by my family’s Christmas party tonight?” I ask, attempting to bring myself out of my own thoughts.

  “For sure, Lo! Gotta spend time with my own fam for a bit but I’ll definitely be by. Your mom is making those empanadas right?” “Just like every other year,” I say with a grin.

  “Okay, don’t tell my mom I like Clara’s empanadas better. She’d disown me,” Vero exaggerates and I let myself chuckle.

  “My mom would probably adopt you if you told her that.”

  Vero smiles wide at that and we let a comfortable silence settle between us. A few minutes pass before I decide to finally talk about what’s been nagging at me the past few days.

  “I talked to my mom about Camila,” I mention quietly. Vero nearly drops the forks she’s wiping off and kind of just stares at me.

  “What did you say?”

I swallow thickly. “Just that I felt everything she said I would when I saw Camila.”

“And what did Clara say?”

I almost want to laugh when I think about what my mom said. “Maybe my tattoo is wrong.”

It’s clear that Vero wasn’t expecting that, her jaw going slack before promptly closing. She seems to think about what she says next. “Do you think that ever happens?”

  I stay quiet because I don’t know.

  “Okay how about this,” she presses forward. “Do you want it to happen?”

  And I stay quiet because we both know I do.

  –

  4:24 PM

  “Helloooo your favorite child is here!” I call out as I step into my parents’ house, dropping my bag by the stairs.

  “Lauren, don’t say that! Your siblings might hear you,” my dad calls out from the kitchen. I giggle at the shouts of disapproval from upstairs. Chris and Taylor no doubt having heard.

  “She’s no favorite of mine when she has the nerve to show up half an hour later than I asked her to,” my mom emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands dry as she comes to greet me. Her arms engulf me in a tight hug as she kisses my cheek.

  “Hi mami,” I say warmly.

  “Hi baby, how come you’re late?” She lays on the ‘stern mother’ tone really thick and I roll my eyes with a smirk.

  “Miami traffic continues to thwart all of my attempts at being punctual,” I tell her in mock seriousness. She swats at my arm before bringing me to the dining room to help set up the food and plates.

  “Michael, at least come greet your favorite daughter.”

  “I already spoke to Taylor today,” my dad says in jest,  stopping at the doorway with a small towel in his hand a dirty apron around his waist.

  “I knew you liked her better!” I pretend to be offended.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” My jaw drops at the remark before laughing along with my parents. My dad quickly hugs me before rushing back to the food. I roll my eyes and focus on helping my mom finish decorating.

  “Are you guys expecting a lot of people tonight?” I ask to fill the silence.

  “No bigger than last year,” my mom shrugs as she hangs some garland. “Though I have a couple new friends from work coming. As well as a friend of a friend I met from the employee Thanksgiving party should be coming with one of his daughters, both if he can convince the older one to come.”

  She suddenly pauses, seeming to have thought of something. “That reminds me, I’ve told Chris and Taylor about this already but I just wanted to give you a heads up about one of the people coming, his name is Alejandro.” “Okay?”

  “I hate being so blunt about it, but he’s lost his soulmate. It’s been a while but it still seems to be a touchy subject so just don’t bring it up around him-”

  “How do you even know? Did he just tell you?” “No, his tattoo is blacked out.” “Oh,” I say softly, the words hitting me hard because I couldn’t even imagine how that could affect someone. My mind flashes to the tattoo on my own arm and my heart clenches at the thought of waking up one day to find the name smeared and illegible. I swallow hard and fight the urge to let my mind wander.

  “Yes, so just be mindful of what you bring up around him, okay?” She returns to hanging the garland. “Yeah, of course,” I nod quickly.

  A few minutes pass and I’ve just about hung all the mistletoe when my mom breaks the silence.

  “Have you been okay,sweetie?.”

  “Huh?”

  “You just look so tired, Lauren. I’m a little worried,” she pauses to look at me fully, wringing her hands together. “I told your dad about what happened last week at your job because I know you wouldn’t want to tell it twice.”

  I’m caught between giving a sigh of relief and crawling in a hole to hide. I didn’t want to have to think about any of that just yet, still having so much trouble in keeping my mind off of Camila. I simply nod at her words and breathe deeply.

  “Yeah that’s been, uh, been bothering me a bit. I guess,” I mentally cringe at how I unconvincing I sound. Of course, my mom can tell, and she walks over to me and closes the gap between us as she gently takes me into her arms.

  “Oh, baby. This isn’t the end of the world, okay? Finding your soulmate isn’t an all or nothing kind of thing. You’re going to find someone who loves you from start to finish with everything they have and their name may or may not be Karla but what matters is that they chose you. And you’ll be theirs because they want you to be as much as they want to be yours.” She rubs my back in soothing circles and I’m desperate to believe her but there’s a hollowness to her words that I know she doesn’t intend for. Because my mom’s tattoo says Michael and my dad’s tattoo says Clara and they’re literally meant for each other and they get to have each other so what does she know about what I’m feeling?

  “Okay,” I mumble because there’s nothing else I can really say.

  ~~

  7:32 PM

  Decorations didn’t take long and I retreat upstairs to my old room when we finish. I lay in bed and battle with myself to think of nothing while the time passes. I’m close to drifting off when I hear my dad call for all of us to get ready and I’m almost compelled to just turn over and let myself sleep.

  After some hesitation, I will myself to get dressed and people start arriving right around when the sun sets and I’m surprised there’s already so many guests, most of the first floor fairly crowded at this point. Me and my parents make our rounds, mingling with their co-workers and catching up with family friends while Chris and Taylor avoid all responsibility in talking to anyone.

  I’m realizing I hadn’t put enough thought into preparing myself for the night when people suddenly ask me if I’ve gotten into dating yet.

  The first time someone asks, my chest tightens and all of me tenses because after last week I really don’t want to get into dating. How are you supposed to tell people you thought you found your soulmate but you were wrong and now dating is the last thing you want?

  My parents come to my rescue though, explaining how my studies are my focus and dating isn’t a priority. I nod along and plaster a small smile on my face as the evening continues along like this.

  It’s not even 8 o'clock and I’m already exhausted with the night. I send Vero a text to hurry up and save me. All she texts back is a reminder to save her some empanadas.

  Unbelievable.

  My mom calls for my attention as someone new stands before us. A man with greying hair, heavy eyes, and a familiarity in his features that I can’t seem to place.

  “Lauren, this is Alejandro. He’s from the last holiday party I went to and he works with your Tia Lizet.”

  We both lean in to shake hands and I greet him with a smile.

  “It’s nice to meet you, your mother speaks very highly of you.”

  I give my mom an almost impressed look. “Well I am her favorite child.”

  “You were late this afternoon so that’s still up for debate,” she nudges me with a smile.

  “Where’s your kid, Alejandro?” My dad asks. “Unless that wasn’t your daughter I saw with you,” he adds with a laugh.

  “Ah no, it was. She’s probably off to find some food, she’s got as big of an appetite as her older sister.”

  “Are they both here?”

  “My other daughter has been out doing errands all day so she might not be able to make it tonight. But hopefully- oh, there’s Sofia! Mija, come here.”

  A girl about four and a half feet tall slowly approaches us as she balances a plate of food in one hand and a cup in the other. “Yes papi?”

  “I just wanted you to meet my friends. These are the Jauregui’s and their daughter Lauren.”

  “Our other kids are around here somewhere, probably with the kids outside,” my dad tells them. I’m staring at the little girl with furrowed eyebrows because I know I’ve seen her before.

  “Hey, I know you!” Sofia calls out to me. “You work at the diner me and Kaki went to last week. You make great pancakes!”

  I consider the possibility that I’m hallucinating, that Camila’s little sister isn’t standing in my house with her dad. I stare dumbly at the little girl for who knows how long until I shake myself out of my thoughts.

  “Uh- I don’t cook the food myself , sweetie,” I stutter out.

  “Oh. Well they were really good. I’ve been asking Kaki to go back with me.”

  I return to staring dumbly, unsure what to say now. My gaze shifts to Alejandro and he looks at me with scrutiny, until recognition flashes across his features. I can feel my parents watching us intently, uncertain of the exchange that’s happening. We’re all spared from the awkward silence when someone’s phone goes off. Alejandro excuses himself when he realizes it’s his phone ringing and my parents take it as cue to leave me as well, Sofi staring at me with her plate of food and unassuming smile.

  “Why don’t we go sit down so you can eat?” I suggest.

  “Okay good because I forgot I only had two hands.” Her comment causes me to smile and I try to ease my nerves.

  The time with Sofi passes swiftly for the sake of getting this story to move along. Sofi’s finished eating by the time Vero finally arrives and finds me.

  “Here you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Vero, the house isn’t that big.”

  “There’s a lot of people to maneuver around!” She defends herself, turning to the body next to me and finally noticing Sofi. She seems to recognize her immediately.

  “Hey, I know you!” She gives the young girl a friendly smile. “You were at the diner last week.”

  “I know you too!” Sofi smiles back. “Me and Kaki thought you were really nice.”

  “Aw thanks, nugget.” Vero brings her fist up for Sofi to bump.

  There’s the slightest pang of jealousy I get in hearing the compliment and it takes everything in me not to ask if her sister said anything about me because I know it would be extra to ask. Vero continues to talk before I manage to embarrass myself.

  “How come you call your sister Kaki?”

  “I couldn’t pronounce my R’s when I was younger.”

  I look back and forth between the two with evident confusion on my face. “There isn’t an R in her name though?” I finally speak up.

  Sofi pauses and her eyes widen for a split second but she composes herself and shrugs before picking up her empty plate and cup. “There isn’t.”

  “Then why would…” Vero trails off as Sofi walks away to throw her plate and cup in the trash. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she says quietly and I’m more than ready to let it go because I’m tired of trying to make sense of anything.

  When it’s clear that I’m not up for mystery solving, Vero makes a trip to pile some empanadas on a plate for herself. We stick with Sofi for a while as she doesn’t know anyone here, Vero listening intently on all of the girl’s middle school drama. I nod along as I sit to the side, doing my best to not wallow in self pity because honestly, what are the fucking odds that Camila’s dad and sister are at my parents’ holiday party? My luck could only get worse if Camila were to actually show up.

  Naturally, my luck gets worse.

  Camila shows up, meeting my parents who are now highly suspicious of how Alejandro has never mentioned his own daughter’s name. My body feels frozen and my gaze is glued to her, my voice sounding foreign to myself when I offer to grab some food with Camila because I apparently enjoy suffering. The entire time, my mind sends telepathic messages to Vero in hopes that she’ll hurry the fuck up from the bathroom because I’m feeling a lot of things all at once and I need her to help me get through this night.

  We stand together awkwardly in the kitchen as she nibbles on her food and everything feels so tense. It almost physically hurts just to look at Camila but it’s hard not to stare when she insists on being so beautiful. I give her a quick onceover and I immediately regret it, the neckline of her shirt riding low enough to give me clear sightlines of her tattoo. Tiny neat letters spelling Lauren, mocking me in plain cruelty.

  There’s a part of me that decides to be the one that breaks the ice and I probably should’ve put more thought into that because I’m starting conversation with “Small world, huh?”

  Camila scrunches her nose before giving me a stiff smile and I mentally smack myself. “Yeah, kind of crazy how we ended bumping into each other again.

  I at least catch myself from saying that it’s almost like fate.

  “Lauren!” Vero’s voice calls out to me and I see her rushing towards me when I turn my head and I almost breathe out ‘finally.’ She visibly slows down when she sees Camila and makes a poor attempt at acting casual when she stops to stand next to me.

  “Hey, I know you,” Vero says to Camila much the same way she said it to Sofi.

  Camila quickly swallows the food she’s chewing and gives Vero a smile. “I know you too,” she laughs a little and I hate how much the sound makes me feel.

  “My little sister really liked you, said you were super funny. She even told my dad one of the jokes you made,” Camila says conversationally but I still feel that pang of jealousy from earlier and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes because of how incredibly stupid I’m being.

  Vero takes kindly to the comment and grins in a charming way that she manages to pull off. I’m weirdly distressed over how Vero is doing so much better with Camila and Sofi than I could manage.

  “That’s really cute! Sofi was with Lauren when I got here and she kept us company while I gorged on empanadas,” Vero laughs a little and Camila does the same and it almost feels like this is all just a cosmic joke the universe is playing on me but I’m the only one who doesn’t get it

  “Speaking of Sofi, I think I’m going to go find her and spend a little time with her and my dad.”

  “Okay, no worries! Me and Lauren will be around if you want to hang out later!”

  I only manage to give a small smile and a weak wave as Camila walks off and Vero turns to me with a worried look.

  “That went better than I thought?”

  “For you maybe, I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything to her! Definitely didn’t seem like she wanted me to, either.”

  “I think I know why,” Vero says like she’s on to something.

  “Probably because I practically threw myself onto her last week under the false assumption that her and I were meant for each other and now she feels sorry for me.”

  “Okay, but consider this; her name is Karla.”

  “What the fuck, Vero. I don’t need you making a joke out of this,” I spit out at her as anger flares through me.

  “That’s not what I’m doing, hear me out! I just finished meeting her dad while he was talking to your parents. Did you know his tattoo is blacked out?”

  “Yeah my mom told me about it. And I hope to God you didn’t mention anything about it.”

  “Geez Lo, I’m not an idiot.”

  “Debatable,” I mumble under my breath.

  “Anyways,“ she looks at me pointedly. "Let’s take a look at all the clues! Sofi couldn’t say her R’s when she was younger but there aren’t any R’s in Camila’s name, but there is in Karla. Kaki makes a reasonable nickname for Karla when you consider that. And I would bet my whole paycheck that girl has commitment issues out the ass after seeing her dad lose her mom. She probably just goes by Camila for self preservation!”

  Vero looks almost proud of herself but I only stare with an incredulous look because conspiracy theories looked crazy on everybody.

  “You got that from all two of your clues?” I scoff. “That was such a stretch, Vero.”

  “Then how do you explain all those feelings you had when you saw her? Literally something inside you said ‘That’s her, that’s my person.’ That has to count for something, Lauren.” She grips my shoulders and looks at me pleadingly, seeming to wholeheartedly believe this and God do I want to believe it too.

  I’m only able to stare back at her as I try not to get ahead of my thoughts and drown myself in false hope.

  “Okay, so let’s say there’s a chance this is true. She just doesn’t want to be soulmates then? I can’t make her want me, Vero.”

  “No, you idiot you’re missing the whole point! All she is is scared.”

  “Then what I’m supposed to do? How do you stop someone from being scared?” My voice is small and exactly how I feel.

“You be the brave one,” she gives me an encouraging look and we stay still for a minute while I attempt to process everything.

  If I’m being honest, there’s already a part of me that believes Vero. The part of me that recognized Camila, the part of me that knew it was her. So I convince myself that this could be true and maybe things could work out, because even if it isn’t and the worst thing to come out of it is that nothing changes and me and Camila still don’t end up together.

  I don’t have much to lose, right?

  -

  Turns out I had a lot to lose.

  Vero and I had taken to pacing around the house, partly trying to find Camila alone and partly trying to figure out how to approach the subject of ‘hey did you lie to me about your name.’ I end up literally bumping into Camila while trying to squeeze between a couple and a doorway.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Camila frantically breathes out. “Oh Lauren, it’s you. I’m sorry about that, I couldn’t see where I was going.”

  “It’s fine,” I assure her with an uneven breath. “I wasn’t really looking either.”

  She nods and I feel myself grasping at straws for something else to say, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Hey again Camila,” Vero cuts in, having noticed my struggle.  “Are you enjoying the party?” “Yeah, the food is really good and everyone here is so nice. Sofi’s already made a couple of friends which is great.”

  “That’s really cool, I only ever come here for the empanadas. Clara makes the best, but don’t tell my mom that,’ Vero jokes and they share a laugh. I watch in frustration because I can’t even speak to Camila, let alone confront her with anything. I berate myself while they continue to talk.

  “So is Vero short for Veronica?”

  “Uh, yeah. Why do you ask?” “Oh I just-” Camila clears her throat. “I was wondering because I noticed your tattoo said Lucia. This girl in my creative writing class, she goes by Lucy but her name is Lucia and the tattoo on her ankle says Veronica so that’s why I asked because it’s probably not coincidence, you know? I figured I’d ask to make sure and I’m talking a lot right now so I’m going to stop,” her voice trails off and she starts to blush, not making eye contact with either me or Vero, who is currently on the edge of losing her shit.

  “Wait, are you serious? Where do you go to school? Do you think you could introduce us? Oh my god, do you think she’d like me?” Vero says this all in one breath and I smirk at her excitement. Camila giggles at her excitement, relaying all the information Vero needs to know. If I were paying more attention I might have noticed the irony of the situation, of Camila being the one to help Vero find her soulmate.

  It’s when Vero gets sucked into stalking Lucy’s social media that I finally get myself to speak up.

  “Small world, huh?”

  Just call me Lauren Jauregui, queen of icebreakers.

  I’m mentally slapping myself until I see Camila give me a tiny smile, but this time it’s genuine and makes my heart do that thing where it beats too fast.

  I can’t tear my eyes away from her, she even stares back until a deep voice pulls me out of my trance.

  “Mija, I’ve been looking for you,” Alejandro states as he stands before us with a sleeping Sofi hanging off of him.

  “I’m going to take Sofi home now since she’s clearly tired. I’ll just see you at home, okay?” “Yeah, I’ll probably leave soon too,” Camila nods, leaning up to kiss Alejandro on his cheek, who in turns kisses the top of her head as he makes his way to leave. I smile at the exchange until I realize she said she’ll be leaving. I squeak when I feel a pinch on my arm, snapping my head to Vero who is giving me an insistent look, eyes darting to Camila.

  “Are you okay?” Camila questions heaving heard my squeal. Behind her, Vero is furiously moving her hands as way to motion for me to do something.

  “Uh, yeah. I’ll walk you to your car?” It wasn’t meant to be a question but I couldn’t take the nervousness out of my voice and now I just hope she doesn’t turn me down.

  There’s a flash of uncertainty in her features before it passes and her face softens, giving me a small smile. “Okay.”

  Vero beams at me, nodding encouragingly and putting up both her thumbs. Always my biggest cheerleader.

  Camila hugs Vero goodbye, making sure to keep in touch about the whole Lucy situation, and we find my parents so she can thank them on her way out. All too soon we’re already approaching her car and I hadn’t even realized until she thanks me for walking with her.

  “No worries,” I tell her. The air isn’t as humid as it usually is and I idly wish that I had invited her to take a walk with me.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Lauren. Your parents are super sweet and Vero is, uh, very entertaining,” she grins at me and I bite my lip at the flustered feeling it gives me.

  “Yeah, she’s definitely…something.”

  “Definitely,” she softly agrees before bringing her keys out and reaching for her car door and I nearly panic.

  “Wait!” I step forward, my arms reaching for her and she freezes at my outburst, concern written all over her face.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I just-” I hesitate, wringing my hands together and letting out a shaky breath because I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing, so I let words tumble out of my mouth without considering them. “Before you go, can I try something?”

  I look into Camila’s eyes and she notices how I’ve closed the distance between us, her body still stiff and her gaze avoiding my own.

  “Lauren, I don’t think we should-”

  “Please,” I whisper. “Let me just try.”

  I’m completely in her space now, looking down at her while she’s staring at my lips and after a few moments she gives me the smallest of nods, which is all I need to brings our mouths together, hands falling to gently hold her sides.

  A lot of time in the last week has been spent thinking about what kissing Camila is like and none of what I imagined was anything like this. Her kiss is soft and inviting and oddly familiar, her warmth drawing me in. If I wasn’t sure about what I felt when I first saw her, I’m completely sure about what I feel now that I’m kissing her. The dizzying sensation of finally kissing Camila doesn’t last when the shorter girl places her hands on my shoulders and I instinctively lean in until I feel her slowly push me away.

  When I pull back in confusion, her eyes are still closed, brows knit together and her lips set in a frown while my heart is nearly pounding with adrenaline.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” she murmurs.

  I could’ve guessed that this would happen but it doesn’t take away the sting out of hearing it.

  “And why not, Karla?”

  Brown eyes snap open and glare at me, their warm body taking a step back.

  “Who told you that?” I hesitate because there isn’t any denial of my words. “It was an educated guess.” “Do enlighten me then,” her tone is challenging and I nearly wither at the sound of it.

  “Sofi said she calls you Kaki because she couldn’t say her R’s when she was younger but there aren’t any R’s in your name-”

  “And that’s what brought you to the conclusion of my name being Karla?” Camila cuts me off with a disbelieving tone, arms now crossed as she stares at me hard.

  “I- I also saw your dad’s tattoo-” I stutter.  

  “God what did you think was going to happen, Lauren? You come out here and remind me my mom’s gone, have me fall in love with you so I can lose you down the road too?” Her voice cracks and so does my heart because this isn’t how I meant for anything to happen. She runs a hand through her hair, completely distressed and I feel my eyes stinging as tears form.

  “Did you consider that there’s a reason I didn’t want you to know my fucking name?”

  “I know you’re scared,” I say meekly.

  “Of course I’m scared. I’m terrified, Lauren. And there’s nothing that can change that because you can’t promise me anything.”

  “That’s no way to live- not letting yourself be happy just because something bad might happen.”

  “I’m happy on my own, I don’t need anyone to complete me. I’m my own fucking person.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it, Camila!”

  Her mouth snaps shut and I inhale deeply to control myself. “I don’t intend on going anywhere.” “Neither did my mom,” she says with a sniffle. “You can’t promise me that something won’t happen to you.”

“And you can’t be sure that something will,” I counter back, effectively shutting her up. There’s a few moments of silence, where she simply looks at me pensively and I almost believe that I could convince her.

The sliver of hope is gone when all she says is ‘I have to go,’ pushing past me to get into her car and I can’t find it in myself to stop her.  

–

A/N: if this fic is still relevant to you and you were once wondering about an update-  bless your heart and thanks for reading this 2nd part!! I’m working on a part ¾/maybe5 so it won’t be ending on such a depressing note.

read it on wattpad too! @taller-smol 

much thank, lovelies