#it became an au because that was easier for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gurugirl · 1 year

Text

Not Fair | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship au

Summary: Harry's been thinking about something that might make your relationship fair but you don’t like what he suggests and it blows up in his face.

Word Count: 6.5k

A/n: You guys asked for this and so here you are. At the beginning of this check-in you'll be getting a glimpse into Harry's married life and his internal thoughts about Y/n and his wife and then it ends with angst.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, angst, cheating, age gap

bfd!harry masterlist

Harry rolled over onto his back, looking up at the dark ceiling in his bedroom. The only light coming in was from the window. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath.

He felt the bed move as his wife got up to go and clean herself up in their bathroom. He could hear her saying something but he wasn’t listening. His thoughts were on you and what you were doing at that moment at work. His mind wandered to what he’d feel or how he’d react if he knew you had just fucked someone else the way he just did his wife. He wouldn’t like that. And he was sure you wouldn’t like that he’d just nutted in his wife. Even if he told you he was thinking of you as he did it. Imagining that he was stuffed inside of you and you were the one sighing and gasping under him. Because that’s how it was lately. It wasn’t his wife that he was with even if she was the one under him.

The guilt he felt became more self-centered. He was less worried about his wife than he was about how he was going to continue with his little façade. He still loved her. They’d been through a lot together over the years. She gave him a daughter. They’d lost family and friends together. Doctor’s visits with scary diagnoses. Fights. Vacations. Two houses. A car accident. Lots of lows and highs. But all he could think about was you.

It didn’t bother him that he wasn’t thinking of his wife when he was fucking her these days. The lights stayed off like they usually had before you, and he would pretend he was sinking into you and that you were the one pulling at his hair and moaning his name. It was easy. His wife has no idea. The frequency of sex with his wife was about once every other week or so. He could keep up with that. He’d prefer to be with you in your little apartment and finding his orgasm inside of you rather than with his wife but that was not always possible.

“Did you hear me, babe?” She called to him from the bathroom.

Harry jumped from the bed and walked naked into the bathroom with his wife so he could clean up his own mess, “What was that?”

Laughing as she flushed the toilet, “I was just saying you were so turned on tonight. Did you watch porn or something before?”

She was mostly teasing but Harry knew why she noticed the way he was acting a bit different. And it wasn’t porn. It was that he got a notification that an item he bought for you had arrived. And you were working so you wouldn’t know what was waiting in the mail room until you got home after your shift.

A sex toy. Something he could control remotely. Just the thought of you using it on yourself had him hard in his sweatpants as he climbed into bed with his wife and initiated sex.

He knew it was wrong. To sleep with one woman and think of another. But as the months drew on with his little secret it became easier and easier to imagine he was with you.

But sometimes he’d get distracted by his wife. She’d screech or make a noise that you wouldn’t. Her scent was totally different too. Neither scent was better than the other, just different.

You got him so worked up and so edged that he always had to fight from coming too fast. You made him leak with precome before he even took that first thrust into your pussy. With his wife, there was hardly any build-up or foreplay so it was usually just a little oral sex and a quickie fuck. Which had all been good until you came around.

Now he was obsessed with his dynamic with you. It was better than any he’d had with any woman. And it wasn’t that you were better in bed or anything. It was that the connection you had was better. You were far more stimulating, teasing, fun.

“Nah… you just looked cute tonight,” he grinned as he washed his hands. That wasn’t a lie. His wife was cute. She was a very attractive woman. In fact, he surprised himself by pursuing anything with you at all because his wife was sort of the whole package. Great body, smart, kind, patient, and a good mother. They’d definitely lost their spark sexually, though he seemed to be the only one to notice it. That was really the only issue. They still had sex but it wasn’t fun anymore. It was simply a means to an end.

And the first day that he went to your apartment he knew in the back of his mind what he was doing was wrong. He wasn’t sure he’d have gotten you into bed but he definitely had imagined it. And when the opportunity suddenly opened up he took it. He couldn’t stop himself. Typical man really, he felt. He always championed himself as a great guy with integrity and a good moral compass. But that all flew out the window the moment he was with you on your couch in your living room and he dared to begin asking personal questions. The way you were squirming and your skin got hot and your words were breathy… he knew all he had to do was to lead you to your room and you’d be putty in his hands. He was right.

At first, he had regrets. He wasn’t going to stop but he did have some guilt. But after the second time you were together he knew he was fucked when he realized you still wanted more. You loved sex with him. You wound up begging or giving in to him after he was already so hard it ached. The way you teased and flirted with him before he finally laid you out and licked your pussy was quite intoxicating. And you were eager to suck him off too. God, it fed his ego to have you drooling over his cock like you did. It’d been years since he’d had that.

But lying in bed trying to get to sleep once his wife was tucked in and softly snoring to his left he did feel a pinch of something that gave him anxiety. It was the fact that you weren’t seeing anyone but him (which he preferred). It meant you got the short end of the stick in the relationship. You were seeing a married man. What did that mean for your future? Was Harry fucking everything up for you? Was he taking you away from having a normal dating life and maybe finding true love with a man you could actually be with openly?

Well, he thought that yes, he was definitely getting in your way. He was too old for you on top of it all. And there would be a divide between you and Fae if she were to ever learn of the affair. Potentially? Harry could ruin some really great things in your life.

He hated that feeling he got when he thought about it rationally. Thought about the damage he was doing to himself, to you, to his wife, to Fae. Thought about what kind of man this made him. And he often imagined the fallout. You’d probably get most of the blame. He’d try and defend you and his wife would leave him and his daughter would hate him for a while but would eventually forgive him.

But Fae would never forgive you. And anyone involved would think you were the seducer. That you must have come on to a happily married man, chipped away at his composure until he reluctantly gave in. They’d call you a home wrecker. Slut maybe. The Eve complex and all.

Sure Harry would come out of it looking like a big prick but he’d fair better. He’d eventually start to get big forgiving pats on the back from male members of his family and co-workers. Telling him they understand how it could happen (of course they could). And his wife would also be partially to blame because she’d been neglecting his physical needs– or that would be the gossip. No one would say it to her face. Maybe not even to Harry. But that would be the assumption. That she should have tried harder to keep her man happy. That it was no wonder Harry had strayed.

But none of that was the reality. And he didn’t know if anyone would believe them when he told them that he was the seducer. That he had come on to you. That he went to your apartment and flirted with you and led you to your bedroom and saw your cute SpongeBob panties and fucked you in your own bed over the period of five hours.

Harry saw his ceiling light up when he got a notification on his phone. Rolling over he quickly grabbed and unplugged it before tiptoeing out of the room, leaving his sleeping wife in the bed by herself.

I just got home. What is this?

Harry grinned as he descended the steps and read your message, quietly making his way to his study and closing the doors behind him.

Hi. It’s a toy for you. I’m gonna video call you.

Harry settled on his leather couch and clicked the video call button, letting it ring until you answered.

“Hi, Harry,” you adjusted the camera so your pretty face was in view as you sat on your own living room couch.

“Hi, pup. How was work?”

Harry heard you sigh and watched your eyes round out as you started talking about your late shift, describing one table that was particularly grating.

“But… what’s this? It says luxury app-controlled, sound-activated egg vibrator for ecstasy-inducing sharable play,” you laughed as you read the side of the box.

“Well, it’s just what it says. We’ll look at it tomorrow and connect to the app so I can have access to it whenever we want to use it. S’just like something for when I’m not there.”

“Tomorrow?” You looked from the box to the phone screen in question.

“Yeah. In the morning. Is that okay? I know you work tomorrow night and I figured I could come over for a few hours before you have to get to the restaurant.”

You nodded with your large grin and bright eyes, “Yes! Of course it is!”

. . .

It turned out that all Harry needed to get to sleep was to hear your voice on the phone. When he woke up the following morning his wife was just coming out of the bathroom, brushing her teeth, fresh-faced and soft and cozy looking.

That stab of anxiety he’d been stuck on the night before came rushing back, icing his veins and dampening the excitement he normally would have felt knowing he was going to see his lover.

It felt like a warning. He needed to talk to you.

When he left his house he’d told his wife he was going into the office. Which he would, after he left your apartment. The nice thing about his job title was that he could come and go from the office as he pleased. He could tell everyone he’d been in a lunch meeting or a golf outing with a potential buyer. He could tell his wife he was going to work.

Knocking at your front door he felt a bit of dread. He wanted to see you and kiss you but he needed to sort out what had been weighing on him before you parted ways for the day.

You opened your door in just a pair of panties and pulled him inside quickly so no one saw your state of undress.

You nearly climbed up his frame, jumping into his arms as he placed his hands under your thighs to hold you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him as your soft tits pressed into his button-up shirt.

He brought you to your bedroom, keeping an eye open so he didn’t trip on the way. You were insatiable.

When he dropped you onto your bed he climbed over your body and smoothed his hands up your torso letting his palms squish your breasts, “What’s going on, puppy? Couldn’t wait to get me in your bed?”

You laughed against his lips and nodded, “You’re the one who brought me in here. I was just saying hello.”

Harry shook his head and sat back between your legs, “You greeted me wearing only panties and then jumped on me like you were some kind of wild barbarian. I think you wanted me in your bed.” He pinched your nipples between his fingers and you gasped.

“Just…” you decided to give in far too fast. You did miss him. You woke up from a dream about him and it left you needy and hot and horny. And normally you’d have taken care of it but you knew Harry was coming so you waited. And now you were on edge. “Just fuck me.”

Harry raised a brow and grinned, “Just fuck you? What a potty mouth. Where are your manners, dear?”

You groaned and pulled at his collar to bring him down over you, “Please. God… please sir. I need you.”

Harry smiled against your lips as he quickly began to undo his pants, “There we go. There’s my sweet girl. Needs me so badly today. Fuck, honey…” he moaned when he felt how slick you were already, a finger along the side of your panties.

Pressing your thighs into your chest he hooked his fingers into the crotch of your panties, pulling it to the side, and attached his lips to your pussy, making you whine loudly. He sucked and licked and moaned into you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You wanted something else, “Give me your cock. Please, sir. Want your come so bad.”

Harry kissed your labia and closed his eyes. You loved his come. Ever since that night, you begged him to breed you it had been more of a thing. In fact, you rarely let him come anywhere other than inside of your cunt. Even if you were gagging on his cock and he was beginning to release you’d drag him down and beg him to give it to you in your pussy where it belonged (your words). And he didn’t like denying you.

Though the last morning he saw you he came on your tits and you pouted about the waste.

“Want me to fill your little pussy full so you can go wait tables with my come packed inside of you?”

Nodding your head you moaned and yanked at his collar again. Harry laughed, “Careful. Gonna tear it, baby.”

“Please take it off, Harry.” You fidgeted under him and began to pluck at his buttons.

Harry grinned at you and sat up again so he could unbutton his shirt. But first, he swatted at your bare thigh before moving your fingers away from his shirt, “You don’t think I’m gonna take care of you? What’s got you so riled up, pup?”

You didn’t know how much more you could take. You weren’t in the mood for any teasing and you were running short on time before he needed to leave. You needed to feel that connection with him. To feel him inside of you.

“Dreamed of you and woke up needing you so bad. Please…” You reached for him again as Harry was undoing his buttons. He leaned back away from your grasp and stood up to disrobe himself before pulling your panties down your legs.

“A dream?” He asked as he shoved you into the bed so your head landed on your pillows and he settled in between your legs, pushing at your soft thighs, “Tell me about it. What happened in your dream?”

You groaned and pouted, “Please… please fuck me, Harry!”

Harry held your wrists down as you attempted to grab at him again, “Ah, ah, ah… tell me what your dream was and then I’ll fuck you.”

You huffed and let out a grunt of disappointment before looking at him directly to tell him quickly what he wanted to know. You just needed him to hurry up and put himself inside of you, “You were fucking me. Really hard and I woke up before I could come.”

“Mmm… yeah? And what position were in you? How was I fucking you, puppy?”

“At first you were soft and on top of me but then you flipped me to my tummy and spanked me and entered me while my tummy was flat on the bed and you held me down and just… it was really hard and fast and my face was stuffed into the blankets and then I woke up.”

“That sounds yummy. Should we reenact that?” Harry slid his cockhead through your labia, the wetness coating him.

You nodded, “Anything. Just… please.”

Thrusting in shallowly, you moaned and bucked your hips upward to push him in deeper. You were getting impatient. Needed to be filled to the brim right then.

“Woah, there. Slow down, pup. I know you want me to just fuck you til your dumb with no thoughts in that little head of yours but I want to savor this. Love feeling the way you open for me,” Harry spoke softly but with a bit of a condescending bite, his fingers grasping onto your thighs, “Feel me, honey. Just feel the way my cock pushes into you,” he began to push in deeper, “Feel how hard you make me and how your muscles expand around me. How good it is, baby.”

You put an arm over your eyes and did just that. Let him slowly push his way into you, his thick crown intruding and pushing your insides apart. Stretching. He always did it the way he wanted. Which meant teasing and edging and going in slow at first.

But what you wanted wasn’t exactly something slow and teasing. You let out a sob and jutted your bottom lip out, arm still over your eyes.

You heard Harry chuckle as he grasped your wrist and moved your arm away from your face, “Let me see your face, puppy. Those pretty eyes of yours keep me going when I’m not with you. Need to see them so I can think of you later just like this.”

You loved it. Loved the way he talked to you and how he made you feel. When he was with you, you felt like you were his number one. Of course, when he wasn’t with you, you had your doubts. But in that moment you believed him and looked into his eyes so he could have what he wanted.

“Good girl. Fuck… That feels fucking incredible, doesn’t it? Made for me.” Harry rocked into you with one final plunge, dipping his tip into your cervix and making you squeal like he loved.

“See? Gonna give you what you want. Always do.”

You cooed in relief once he began to drive into you in long, wet strokes. His pubic hair was gradually getting wetter as he bottomed out over and over again.

He started off slow. Just like your dream. The way he rolled his hips into you and dipped into you so deep it ached and made you suck in sharp breaths at each poke.

“Feel good, puppy? This what you needed?”

You softly moaned and nodded, “More too. Want more. Please…”

Harry’s cock was certainly feeling that delicious squeeze you gave him. Goosebumps covered his thighs as he thrusted deep and he keened at the slick warmth of your cunt.

“Please!” You yelped when he suddenly rutted into you in one swift drive, knocking into you with a harsh thud.

He smiled as he pulled himself out and gripped onto your hips, flipping you onto your tummy and giving you a handful of healthy swats to your butt cheeks, leaving bruising marks behind before he tilted your hips so he could press himself right back into you. But this time he didn’t go slow. He was going to fuck you the way you dreamt.

He began fucking into you fast and deep and hard. His hips slapped into your bottom and you yelped and whimpered loudly into the blankets. He held your cheeks apart to watch himself driving into you before leaning over your back and holding you down by the back of your neck.

Your bed squeaked and creaked loudly as he plunged into you in punishing strokes. His own gasps and moans getting increasingly louder.

You loved hearing him moan. Harry wasn’t quiet when he fucked you. He often spoke dirty to you but he also gasped and panted and whimpered right along with you. You absolutely loved it.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He groaned loudly as he worked himself into you as quickly as his strong muscles allowed. And Harry was strong. There was never a single question about that. From the first time you slept with him, you realized just how fit and incredibly solid, and powerful he was.

You were rendered completely silent with your mouth wide open and your blankets stuffed into your mouth, your face smushed into the bed as he railed you hard. Your body smacked up and up and up each time his hips struck against your ass. Loud smacks and wet thuds sounded in the room as he split you in two with his big cock.

It was methodical the way he fucked into you. His thighs bulged and began to burn at the way he was working them. But it wasn’t his muscles that couldn’t keep going. His body was strong and he had great stamina. He could continue sinking into you over and over again in this way for hours. No. What was making it hard to continue was that his balls were tightening and he began to feel the climb of his orgasm so he stopped as he caught his breath, his hand still wrapped around the back of your neck as his chest rose and fell.

You felt him stuff your blankets into a ball underneath you, “Rub your clit on this so you can come for me. Then I’m gonna fill you up like you need.”

You felt the stimulation immediately against your wet clit as he started to drive into you again. This time his words were closer as he spoke into your ear and his lips grazed over your neck, “Come f’me puppy. Want you to feel so good when I pour myself into you.”

You whined and gasped as he slicked into you deep. This time his strokes weren’t as fast but they were achingly deep and every time he bottomed out, your hips drove down into the balled-up fabric of the blankets under you, pressing and rubbing your clit into the material.

Divine and complete. That’s how it felt. His dirty words in your ears. His cock in your cunt. Your heart pounding in your chest.

You squeaked as you began to see stars and writhe your hips into the blankets for more friction. You tried to speak but your mouth was covered by your blankets as you began to pulse around him, the heat covered your back and your bum as you gushed onto the fabric of your blankets.

Harry coughed a loud groan and slid into you slowly as he felt you coming. He gasped when he finally began to come and leak into you, “Gonna put a baby in there, yeah? Fuck! Pussy needs to be bred…” he groaned his words and then stilled his hips, keeping them flush against your bottom as he drained himself into you, throbbing and pumping and twitching so hard you could feel every delicious spurt.

You sighed as you felt your whole body tingle. Harry was shivering with the way your pussy milked him like no one else could and when he collapsed over your back you felt him stuff his arms under your torso and hold you tight. His breath fell over your neck, hot and sticky.

You loved it. Loved every bit of what he gave you. Loved having him connected to you, keeping himself tucked inside of you until you both calmed and could breathe again.

When you felt his lips warm over your skin and down to your shoulder you turned your head so your mouth was clear of your blankets, “You always fuck me so good.” Was all you could get out of your mouth.

Harry chuckled and you felt him move off of you and then roll you to your side as he plopped down next to you, his hands on your hip, “S’that what you needed?”

You grinned and nodded at him, sliding your palm up his chest and relishing the feel of his warm skin and hair under your palm.

It was always soft and sweet after sex. He took care of you. Cuddled with you. Told you how good you were and how you were his favorite girl and how pretty and sweet and smart you were. You were spoiled with the way he cleaned you up and kissed your hot skin and brushed his fingers over your curves and looked into your eyes with that gentle longing that you knew meant his words were real. And that his feelings went beyond those words.

“I wanted to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind a bit.” He said as he buttoned up his shirt and you slid on a pair of shorts.

“Okay. What about?” You didn’t like his sudden serious tone. The change of subject. It sounded serious.

“Come sit down with me.”

You gulped nervously and felt lightheaded. You couldn’t imagine what he’d want to talk about with you that warranted a sit-down.

You sat next to him on your couch and fiddled with the bottom hem of your shirt as you kept your eyes on his.

He appeared nervous too. Or uncomfortable at the very least. Part of you thought maybe he’d want to connect your little toy to his phone but that hadn’t come up yet.

“I feel like what we’re doing is really great, for me and you. When we’re together it’s amazing. I really like you a lot. And I don’t want you to start resenting me or feeling upset that this isn’t a traditional relationship,” he paused and watched you for a moment before continuing. “And thought it might be good if you wanted to like,” he reached behind himself and scratched the back of his neck before breaking eye contact with you, “date someone else.”

You sat in stunned silence. Date someone else? It felt like a slap in the face after that shag you’d just had.

“What? Harry, are you breaking up with me?” He still wasn’t looking at you in the eyes.

“No. Of course not,” then he turned his gaze back to you finally, “I just think it’s not fair, our situation. I’m married and you’re… well…” he inhaled deeply and licked his lips, “You should see other people. Don’t you think?”

You shook your head and stood up from the couch to pace. You were beginning to feel angry, “So what about us? If I start to see someone else that’s it? No more of this?”

Harry stood up and stepped in front of you and took your hands in his, “I would hope you and I could continue seeing each other like this. But I just want you to feel like your life is going in the right direction. That you can date and be with someone else. I want this to be an equal relationship. Does that make sense?” You shook your head again, “Why would I want to see anyone else, Harry? I don’t want anyone else. Just you.” You tried to fight the tears that were filling your eyes and making your sight blurry but you knew the moment you blinked there would be salty wets streak down your cheeks.

“I know puppy, but I’m married and it’s not fair for you. I think it would be good, you know?”

You scoffed, pulling your hands from his and crossing your arms over your chest, “Don’t call me puppy. That’s not fair.”

He sighed and nodded, “Sorry, Y/n.”

You looked back into his eyes and all you could see was a man you wanted all to yourself. But you knew that wasn’t going to ever happen. But that didn’t mean you wanted to fuck anyone else.

“You’re right. Our relationship has never been even. You have a wife and a happy life. I get your leftovers. But fuck you for thinking that me dating someone else will make you feel better or something. I’m too far gone for that, Harry.”

“I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s for my benefit. I just want you–“

“Oh I heard you. So you want me to fuck other guys? Go on dates and find happiness with someone that I can actually be with? Meanwhile I’m still fucking you in secret so then not only would you be lying and cheating, I would be too. Then we’d be even right? You wouldn’t have as much guilt.”

Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face, “No, pup–“

“Don’t!” You pointed at him as your felt the tears drip off your chin, “Don’t call me puppy. Not now. I know what this is. I’m not dumb you fucker.”

You turned to walk toward your kitchen. You need a glass of water. Something to cool you off and get your head level. This news was not something you ever wanted to hear from him. It just meant what you already knew. That he was never going to be yours to have. That this was always only a secret affair. A dirty thing to hide from everyone.

Harry followed you into your kitchen and sighed as he watched you get a glass down from your cupboard with shaky hands. You were trembling so hard he was worried you were going to drop the glass. He hadn’t meant to upset you. He thought it would a way for you to have a life outside of just him. Not that he wanted that. Fuck no he didn’t want anyone else near you. Wanted you to himself but he figured that wasn’t fair of him. He intended for it to be a kind gesture of selflessness but listening to your response had him rethinking that notion.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was right behind you as he helped you grasp your glass and bring it down to the counter. You felt his hand on the back of your hip and his chest press into your back, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that at all. It was not my intention to hurt you, Y/n. I just don’t want to be selfish with you. Hate the thought of anyone else touching you but that’s not fair of me.”

His arms wrapped around your front and he squeezed. You closed your eyes and sniffed, keeping your hands down on the countertop. You were still angry at him.

“Do you understand how I feel about you? I don’t think you do?” He spoke quietly into your ear.

You shook your head in response.

Harry moved and turned you around to face him as he tilted your chin up, “Please look at me.”

Reluctantly you opened your teary eyes and did as he said.

“You’re so so special to me. I know what we’re doing is wrong but it’s not just sex with you. Not for me. I’m not just using you because your cute and fun. I like you a lot, Y/n. More than I should. You’re all I think about these days. I just don’t want you to ever regret our time together. Want you to live a normal life outside of this,” he gestured between you two. “I don’t want to lose what we have but I want you to explore something else. Ya know? Because while I’m at home at night with my wife you’re here alone and I don’t want you to feel like you resent me for keeping you all to myself. If you don’t want to see anyone else that’s your choice. I just want you to know I’ll still feel the same way about you if you do. It’s an option.”

His thumb moved along your jaw in the most tender way and you couldn’t stop the tears from pouring. You didn’t want anyone but him. And you didn’t want him to have anyone but you. If you could you’d have the whole world burn to ash except for a small island in the middle of the ocean where you and Harry could live together forever without anyone else. That’s how bad you had it for him. To invite another person into that felt like a rip to your heart. It would shred your soul in half if you kissed anyone else.

“Harry… I don’t know how to tell you how I feel about us without sounding like I’m,” you hiccupped and wiped your face, “obsessed or crazy… but I just can’t. I can’t be with anyone else. That would tear me apart. I can’t do that.”

Harry pulled you into his chest and held you tight, “You don’t have to, Y/n. I just want you to know you can. If you ever met someone. I don’t want you to but I can’t be selfish with you the way I have been.”

You understood it. But you hated it. And you were still angry. Maybe you weren’t angry at him. Maybe you were, you couldn’t tell. But you were upset and you knew that you’d never wind up happy with him like you fantasized about.

You pushed yourself back and looked up at him, “Okay. I get it. Fine.”

Harry looked sad. Defeated at your words as he blinked his own tears away.

“Are we okay, Y/n?”

You shook your head and scoffed a laugh, “I guess we’re never gonna be okay are we, Harry?”

Harry furrowed his brows. He was upset. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you and I… we don’t get to be together. Not really. Because that’s all this is. It’s just a lie. So I should see someone else. Find myself a man I can be with openly. Like you want.”

He gulped hard and opened his mouth but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. He knew you were hurt. You needed time to calm down and come to terms with it all.

And you wanted him to take it back. Wanted him to change his mind and tell you that he didn’t want you with anyone and he was dumb for suggesting it and that you were only allowed to be his. But he didn’t. Instead, he just looked sad.

“Well, I need to start getting ready for work. I’ve got some things to do. You should go.”

Harry backed away from you as he blinked his eyes. He really really hadn’t meant for it to go this way.

“Should we look at that toy before I go?” He cringed, immediately regretting saying it. Bringing it up. God, he was such a fucking dumbass at times. He was so thrown off by the way you responded and his whole day was going to be spent regretting this entire visit. He should have had the talk before you two had sex. Or maybe he should have never said it to begin with. He thought what he was doing by telling you was a good thing. Maybe it hadn’t been.

You laughed loudly and walked out of your kitchen quickly. Harry followed close behind you as you went into your bedroom and plucked the box up from the floor next to your bed. You shoved it into his chest, “It’s yours. You can take it back or use it on your wife or something. Don’t waste it on your side piece.”

“Hey, Y/n. Come on. Don’t do this…” he followed you into your living room where you picked up his cell phone, wallet, and keys handing them to him, “Do you need a bag? Probably don’t want to walk outside carrying a remote sex toy do you.”

He watched you, stunned as you went into your kitchen and dug out a plastic shopping bag for him, “There. Now you can go.”

“Y/n. Baby…”

“Don’t fucking call me baby or puppy or anything. Leave. Please. I need to be alone.”

You wanted to break down so bad. Needed him gone so you could just unravel and crumble in peace.

Harry stuck the box into the plastic bag and you watched as tears fell from his lash line down his cheeks. You didn’t want to make him cry. It sucked that you still wanted him happy above all else even in your own misery. But you needed to cry and scream and break something so you needed him gone.

You opened your door and looked down at the knob as you waited for him to leave. He paused next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Y/n, I’m sorry. Please…”

Shaking your head you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You began to sob and suck in sharp breaths, “Just Go, Harry.”

It was the worst moment of your life maybe. Probably. You pushed the man you were smitten with, the one you were sure you’d fallen completely head over heels for, out your door as his own heart broke right in front of you and tears welled in his eyes.

But you couldn’t watch it. Couldn’t bear to see him breaking down or crying. Because you knew he was already hurting. You saw the look on his face. You knew he was suggesting something with only the best intentions for you but it hurt. There was no good thing that could come from you and Harry being together. That was clear.

Months of having fun with him and getting to know him in a way you never thought you would. Learning what real intimacy looks and feels like. Finding yourself drawn to him. You’d formed a bond, the two of you. Trust and respect and comfort. But it was all a lie.

Now you needed to grow up and stop playing around. If you didn’t put an end to it now the hurt you’d feel later down the line would completely destroy you if it hadn’t already.

It wasn’t fair. But perhaps Harry was right.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @zayndrivesmeinvain @i83andrew @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @harrys-foxy @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs

1K notes · View notes

soullessdianthus · 3 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 | 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐔

❗ APOLOGIES for the tag list in the comments, Tumblr has an issue with tagging more than 5 people ❗

Summary: Victorian AU where you are hired by Lord Simon Riley as his housekeeper in the secluded countryside. Besides the gardener - Johnny, you barely sees anyone around the house and the strange things begin to happen around you. The manor, or rather its residents, hides a terryfing secret.

AO3 link ⟶ 𝕏

A/N: Huge thanks to @starsexplodeatnight who was so kind and sweet to help me with the fashion aspects of this fic. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Also, won't lie, @ohbo-ohno's works and Ghoap dynamics inspired me to go back to the roots and to write some darker, gothic romance with Ghoap and Reader. At least I tried. ╮(￣▽￣"")╭

Warnings: dark themes, religious themes, dubcon/noncon (full list on Ao3)

Word count: 7.6k

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄

Lord Riley’s house seemed to be alive at times. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames.

You hated how untamed your imagination was especially after nightfall, when the darkness creeped in every hollow and corner of the manor. Since the first day, every night you would leave a single candle lit on the bedside table just to ease the vivid imaginations. When you were a child your mother scolded you about reading such profanities about ghosts and curses.

And now you knew why. If the candle wasn't lit, strange figures danced in the shadows, their eyes imprinting into your skin and if were they real, would they try to hurt you or rather warn you?

But now, as a grown up woman, those nightmares of your childhood came back to haunt you once again.

With all of your heart you were grateful for Sir Jonathan Price, a friend of your family, who helped you get into Lord Riley’s favour. It was him who wrote a letter of recommendation to make it easier for you to find a good, suitable job as a woman of your status.

But he didn’t mention once that the manor was so far from civilization.

Johnny quickly became your closest confidant around here. A Scottish gardener whose brown hair reached down to his broad shoulders and sparkly eyes in the colour of clear sky. He took care of the gardens as well as master’s horses and sometimes you could find him repairing a fence or something of sort. Johnny was a hardworking man, only a few years older than you, but he was also gentle, clever and jolly.

Such an opposite to Lord Simon who was everything but what Scot was – silent, harsh former lieutenant who would rather spend his time in the solitude of his chambers. Otherwise he would go on a ride or hunt into the forest on one of his favourite studs. Simon’s face was pale as a ghost’s and covered with shallow scars, remnants of his service in the army.

Nonetheless, the tall, portly man seemed to enjoy your presence, if you dared to assume that, purely because you were quick to adapt. Lord liked his silence and you did not want to disturb your master’s peace, wouldn’t you?

Within a week you have learned the following pattern – each day started with breakfast, which you ate alongside Lord, sporadically noticing the presence of busy cook, Kyle Garrick, who didn’t happen to talk much. Then, you would proceed with your everyday duties. Which did not include sneaking around to go and talk with the gardener, but nevertheless you did.

And as the evening would finally come, you were sitting in the playroom of the manor embroidering while Mr. Riley was reading his book. Even Johnny was allowed to come sit with both of you, gnawing at the wooden pipe between his teeth. It all felt so domestic in such a short period of time.

And how could you believe such gossip about Lord’s hospitality, or rather its lacking, hearsay in the city?

Sundays were always a day of rest. You were sitting in your bedroom on the highest floor, reading one of the novels you brought from home. Too entertained with the story, you blindly reached for the cup of tea standing nearby. The noise of ceramic pot splattering across the floor caused you to tense immediately.

It shattered to pieces. Such a waste, it was a pretty one.

You closed the book with a sigh and set it aside, slowly walking towards a storage on this floor. With a small broom in your hand you returned to your room only to find it oddly… clean. The staining of spilled tea on the flooring was gone just as the bits of what was left of the floral cup.

Almost like it never even happened.

Your eyes wandered across the chamber, searching for the mess you just made. But every little trace of it was gone. You kneeled down and looked under each piece of furniture. Still, nothing was found, a broken teapot swallowed by the void.

Slowly you retracted from the room onto the long hallway, searching for the maids or signs of their presence. It must have been one of them, right?

— Hello? — You asked with hesitation in your voice, but there was no living soul to answer you back. Not nearby anyways.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

Coos of the crows and rattle of their wings echoed through the old trees. And although the sky was grey and cloudy that day, no rain had yet fallen. Alongside Johnny, you went for an afternoon stroll down the borderline of the forest, enjoying a minute of break.

— How long have you been working for Lord Simon?

— A couple of years now — the man reached down the wild grain growing on the field and plucked a single piece. He continued to play with it between his thick digits, brows narrowed as he reflected on his further answer. — He hired and gave me a roof over my head when I retired from service.

— You were a soldier too?

Johnny nodded with a simple “aye” and you smiled.

— What?

— Nothing. Didn’t think such a gentle gardener was once enlisted.

— Yeah? Didn’t think a pretty lass like yourself would be so nosy. — He smacked the tip of your nose with the stalk he was holding.

Your cheeks grew rosy and warm, when he paid you a compliment. Not that you were a prude! Actually far from that, but it was just that Johnny was so charming and he definitely knew how to sweet talk to a woman like you.

— Not nosy, it’s considered rude — you explain to him, fidgeting with your fingers yet a smile is painted upon your face. — “Curious” I think suits me better. Those who spread gossip about others’ affairs and tragedies are the nosy ones. See, that’s the difference.

Johnny stopped suddenly and took your hand into his palms. He held you gently, almost like you were made out of glass and he, with his admirable strength, could break you into pieces. What a great waste it would be to destroy such a pure soul. He leaned closer to your ear, warm breath tickling your sensitive skin and your heart almost jumped out of the ribcage. Should his closeness excite you so much? Should a grown woman be this rash?

— Only if we were seen by someone, here on the glade, alone. Scandalous — the man mocked such behaviours, while brushing a single strand of your hair behind the ear. — What would they think, hm?

Before you took a step back, your gaze met his for a brief moment. There was a hint of curiosity and playfulness in his blue eyes. And perhaps something else, something much more obvious than you believed it was.

Something that made men weak.

— Right, what would they say, Johnny? Who? — You asked him playfully, though your expression was full of sorrow. — I barely see anyone around the house. I’m starting to believe those servants are some… ghouls living in the attic or they simply avert me so often.

— Lord likes his peace, they work as if they weren’t there. Just as it needs to be.

— It’s been some days now and I hadn’t met any of them. You’re the only person who actually talks to me. Don’t you get lonely there?

— Simon’s and your presence is enough for me. And well, it’s nice to talk to Mr. Garrick sometimes.

— He talks to you?

The cold breeze danced through your hair, causing you to shiver. Dry and brittle leaves crunched under your soles when the two of you continued to walk down the old pathway.

— Autumn here is tough, lass, you should have worn a sweater. We should head back home, the nightfall is coming.

You loathed the cold weather and how freezing the chambers got in the morning. Your first winter in England’s countryside might not be as pleasant as you thought it would be, with cold feet and no one in the manor to warm your spirit up.

No peers, no guests, no neighbours. Just you, Johnny and Lord Riley.

You stood back in the middle of your quarter, looking at everything and anything at the same time. Each detail like a porcelain vase with flowers or lace tablecloth looked so neat, with no sign of dust it was almost impossible. Many questions were stacked inside of your head.

Was your chamber cleaned every single day? If so, when did they do it? And why hadn't you even bumped into any of the servants of the manor? Yes, the building was large, but at some point you had to meet the staff, right?

It has officially been two weeks since you moved to live and work here. Although using the word “work” was far-fetched. You hoped to become a governess to Lord Riley’s children, but that dream was quickly demolished as he had none. So then it was told that you were responsible for the house work, but there was no one to supervise as they were constantly hiding from you. So you were sitting there at the end of the day in a living room, chaperoning your Lord. This time without Johnny.

Fireplace was spitting long flames, popping ashes into the air. The interior was welcoming, when the wind behind the windows grew stronger. A storm was coming.

— May I ask you a question, Sir? — You had put aside your embroidery set, before finally asking. The blonde man hummed, eyes still transfixed on the lecture he was reading. — How often do the maids come to my room?

— As often as needed. Why?

— I wanted to rearrange my quarters this morning, just to push the bed closer to the wall, but when I returned from the afternoon stroll, it was back in its primary place.

— Then they fixed the furniture, didn’t they?

You had a feeling that was not the case. You scratched the flooring during the first attempt, if the staff was to push the bed back to its origins, they would only do further damage. Yet, the wooden planks were brand as new. No signs of any scratches.

Were you hysterical? Was it all your vivid imagination?

— But it’s heavy, my Lord.

— And yet you managed to move it. So did they.

Lord Riley was grumpy again, his voice hoarse and accent thick.

You once again took the needle threaded with string into your fingers and returned to the unfinished piece, but the urge to continue pushing him was stronger. You might rather bite your tongue in the future.

— Maybe I should talk with them and explain that I prefer it the other way.

— I prefer when the rules of my household are followed. You wouldn’t have such an idea if you didn’t have so much free time.

Your hands dropped to your lap as you abruptly looked at him, slightly offended. And even though Lord tried to conceive this, you noticed how the edges of his lips twitched in a tiny smile. He was toying with you.

Simon was strict. Perhaps he never abandoned the military's rules and drills. He was an adamant man who valued his own comfort. That means, obeying his rules.

— Come, I might have an idea how to keep you busy.

The Lord of the house rose from his seat. Each time you stood next to him, you were intimidated by his height and solid build. Despite being off duty, he kept his admirable physics of a Greek god.

At least that is how the books you kept so dear to your heart described the brave warriors.

You followed the master into his private library and patiently stood right behind him, when he was searching for a certain book. Finally he reached a thick tome in your direction – “A Mortal Immortal” by Mary Shelley.

— Here, this may interest you — but when you stretched out to receive it, he moved the novel out of your reach. — Ah, ah. What do we say?

— Thank you. For borrowing me your book.

— However, when I think about it, I’m worried this will only worsen your… troubled mind.

— My mind?

— Johnny told me you worry too much about some nonsense that should not be your priority in the first place. You’re letting this place and its solitude haunt you. Are you of a weak mind, girl? — You quickly understood what he was referring to, so to prove the point you denied the vile accusation. — So, I’d recommend you stop being childish and focus on your chores. Then everything will be alright, understood?

— I’m not childish.

— Is that clear? — He repeated with much harsher tone.

You nodded slightly, barely visible, but enough to agree with the Lord.

— Now, go to your chamber, it’s getting late.

His dark eyes carefully inspected your figure. You noticed him staring at your neckline for far too long than what was decent. His coarse hand swiped over yours when he was giving you the book. The cold metal of his signet felt like a thousand sharp stings.

What kind of game was the Lord of Riley Manor playing with you?

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

The simmering sound of something powerful cracking snatched you from the peaceful dream. Every muscle in your body tensed and you sat up, holding the duvets tight when a thunder enlightened the black sky. Your heart beated fast within its cage of bones and breath shattered, anticipating.

Surely, thunderstorms can happen in late autumn, but you had never predicted it to happen this night. You felt uneasy, when another loud rumble made you scared. Then there was the banging window frame, somewhere in the long hallway and those horrible, horrible whistles of wind. They sound almost like human cries.

At first you ducked down beneath the covers to shield yourself from the haunting sounds, thinking that the servants would take care of the open window. But minutes passed and they didn’t.

With a lit candle on a metal holder you walked down the corridor, the flame being the only source of light.

So when the wind coming through the window blew it off, you gasped loudly in panic – you barely saw your own hands in front of you!

— No, no, no…

You almost screamed when someone placed their hand upon your shoulder and then your mouth. A familiar figure was illuminated by another lighting. You could never mistake those blue eyes for another.

— Shh, bonnie. It’s me — Johnny whispered, slowly uncovering your mouth. — I heard the fuss. You alright?

— Actually, no… Did you hear those sounds?

Your hands squeezed the candle holder, when the gardener rushed to close the open window. You shivered, only a thin layer of nightgown covering your skin. You looked behind, checking if you were alone in the hallway. It certainly felt like you weren’t. It had to be the ghouls.

— What sounds?

— Howling, distressed cries? Wails? I-I heard them in my chamber.

— You’re scared of the storms?

— No, that’s not-

— It’s okay to get spooked sometimes — he cut you off and grabbed your hand, slowly leading you back where you came from. — Come, let’s get you to your room.

— Oh, don’t belittle me. — You frowned upon him, yet you doubt he had seen it. You clung to his strong arm like a scared girl, not eager to get lost in the darkness again.

— That was not my intention. Was just trying to comfort you.

When you finally reached your room, you couldn’t find the strength to let go of his hand. You interlocked your smooth and delicate fingers with his digits.

— Please, Johnny, don’t go. I’m… scared.

— Of thunder? — He chuckled, petting the palm of your hand.

— No, this place. Something is not right, please, I–

— It’s okay, you got scared a little, that’s all. You really want me to stay?

You shuddered when taking a deep breath, calculating every possible consequence of this decision.

This was not right.

— Yes.

When he stepped inside of the room, a rush of excitement flooded your veins and sank on the bottom of your stomach. Perhaps it was foolish and considered promiscuous inviting a man into your bedroom, but your body and heart desired otherwise.

Johnny’s presence brought you comfort that you were longing for, his touch ascended your worries to the void and filled the troubled mind with pleasure. Nothing else.

Without a word spoken the two of you moved to the narrow, still warm bed and climbed under the sheets. Johnny captured your head between his hands and pulled in a gentle kiss on the lips. In his performance he was eager, sloppy yet charming. One of his palms gripped your hip through the crumpled material, just as you hooked one of your thighs over his hip.

Foolish, foolish girl.

— You’re so pretty — he whispered through the thick air as he pressed his forehead to yours. The curve of his nose filled your bridge as you looked at him from under your lashes. — The moment I first saw you getting out of the coach, that day you arrived, I knew I couldn’t ever let you go, bonnie.

Johnny swiftly moved on top of your lying form, holding that one thigh open. He continued the passionate assault on your lips, carefully rolling the hem of your nightgown up.

Your body was on fire, everything inside of you screamed this was wrong, but somehow, the sinner inside of you called for him. For his touch, for his affection and his sweet, sweet nectar.

Only when he started caressing your mound and its slit did you acknowledge where his hand wandered. And although his skin was rather tough from all the years of hard work, his touch was gentle and surprisingly precise. You gasped lovely. It didn’t take that much of a hassle for him to make you wet and eager down there.

— Oh, Johnny…

His name rolled off your tongue like honey, a music to his ears. It wasn’t long enough before he was grinding over your thigh with his excited and leaking length.

— You are what we needed. A little warm sunshine, eh?

Did you hear “we”?

But before you could ask him, he began stretching your cunt a little bit too carelessly to your liking. All his prudence was gone, as he got drunk on your scent and how you felt around him. Your hand gripped his bicep and your glossy eyes went wide like a scared doe.

— Johnny, Johnny, slow — you breathed out through muffled whine and the man atop of you stilled. — Slow, please.

He could feel how your heart pumped within your veins.

— I’m sorry, bonnie. Let me kiss it better — the gardener leaned down to pepper your face with kisses. And when he got to the sweet spot on your neck, you giggled — shh, we don’t want to wake him, don’t we?

Obviously he meant Lord Simon.

He set a steady yet bearable rhythm as his hips rolled into you in waves. His chest was close to yours, brushing sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of a nightgown. You were pushed into the cushioned pillow, hair splayed beneath like roots of the ancient tree.

You felt so lightheaded yet so good at the same time. Sparkling, increasing sensation tickling the nerves and blinding the vision. Johnny was all you could experience in that moment. He was the only thing you could smell, touch and taste, when he was trying to steal the air from your lungs. You fell into the abyss of pleasure quickly, all the latest worries fading away.

And the horribly loud storm? Didn’t matter at that moment. All thunders quietened down and the entire world could be burning in flames and ashes, but you wouldn’t even notice.

The man moaned deeply from his throat, when he got closer to his peak, hips frantically snapping against yours. You barely managed to entangle your shaking fingers within his brown hair, right above the nape of the lover’s neck. With one more final thrust both of you indulged sweet, sweet pleasure.

Johnny stayed until the morning came, just as he promised. With an expression of pure ecstasy and lust, you snuggled into his chest. He wrapped a pair of arms around you and for the first time since the arrival you felt at peace sleeping in the manor. The candle remained snuffed out.

In the morning of the following day, you went to the city with Mrs. Garrick to receive the remaining letters and a few other errands. You and the cook split to settle matters quickly.

The post office was a small place with barely anyone inside but a friendly looking old lady behind the counter.

— Good morning, I’d like to receive the mail for Lord Riley.

You put on a polite smile, walking closer to the counter and removing the bonnet from your head.

— So you are the new housekeeper, I’ve heard about you. It’s been a while since someone got his letters, guess he still ain’t leaving the house?

— No, ma’am. Lord is rather… — you paused, searching for the right description of your employer — a private person.

— Always had been, even before he went to war. But oh, that was years ago, I hope he softened at least a little. Such a sad and grumpy boy he was.

There was something in the way she phrased it that made your body still. Blood got so heated up anyone that touched you could feel it on the outside. Did she mean the previous Lord, father of Simon Riley? But that couldn’t be the case, this title was newly found when he returned from the war. So what was this all about?

— Forgive me, you said “years ago”? How long ago was it? You see, I’m not from here and the Lord doesn’t share much about himself.

— Of course he does not and do not expect otherwise — she waved with her wrinkled finger, before reaching for the bile of letters from the shelf behind her. — It was around twenty five years ago, Lord Riley was the same age as my son when he joined the Queen’s army.

— I see.

You were confused, extremely confused. The blonde Lord with scarred face did not look a year past his thirties, how could this be that he enlisted quarter of century ago? At that moment you felt so horrified by this anomaly.

Through the rest of the day and the day that followed, the old maiden aunt’s words echoed inside of your head:

— I am surprised anyone actually was willing to take that job. Lord Riley is a… forgive me for speaking so freely, but he’s a strange man who abandoned the word of God years ago. Why do you think he got pushed away from the post earlier?

He was…?

You didn’t look the same into the depths of the windows of the Manor, nor did you stare at the dark corner of the hall. Every sound of wood creaking sent shivers down your spine. They were coming.

Oh God, have you gone mad?

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

You stirred the porridge over and over again, watching as the gooey mush slipped from the spoon down to its den. Despite the tremendous amount of honey you added it still tasted rather bitter this morning.

— Did you finish?

— Excuse me?

You tightened the hold over the silver spoon when Lord’s hoarse voice brought you back to the eerie reality.

— The book. I asked if you finished the book? — Blonde man raised his thick brow in question, curiously looking at you from his own plate.

— Oh, yes, yes. I enjoyed it, however I found Winzy’s life quite miserable to be honest. And tragic.

— Why so?

— Well, he lost the woman he loved so dearly and then had to continue living eternally without her. Imagine how lonely his life had to be, when he must have outlived every single friend he had made.

— If he was so miserable as you say, then why wouldn’t he just end his suffering and join the woman he claimed to love? Maybe he didn’t really care after all. — Simon leaned back in his chair, exhaling loudly. — I sometimes wonder what his life would look like if he had given the potion to Bertha. A pair of immortals walking this earth, would they become some sort of Gods?

— Doesn’t the thought of living so long… make you feel… I don’t know, unease , my Lord?

— No. I’ve seen worse things than an old man. Those who fear death might go to extremes just to avoid their end.

— We were not made to live forever, don’t we? We should not play God.

— There is no God, sweet girl. Only sinners and fools. Those who play and those who lose. Are you a loser?

— No, Sir.

His dark eyes glowed in a mysterious manner as the silence fell between you two. The man was bright and had seen right through you.

— Good. If we speak of the matter of sinners, I’d like to make one thing clear.

The Lord stood up from his seat, putting the white napkin on the table. His figure loomed closer toward his housekeeper and finally leaned on one of his hands over you. You could feel his breath on your neck, his closeness made you shiver.

— You’ve been living under my roof and by now you should know I despite disobedience and liars.

— I am no liar, Sir.

— Perhaps not, but you hide things from me. Captain Price spoke of you in high regard - a well behaved woman from a respected family, yet you’ve proven yourself to be rather promiscuous. You even ensnared poor Johnny, didn’t you?

That… was straight forward.

— I did no such thing!

Suddenly he wrapped one of his strong hands over the nape of your neck, causing you to tense and lean away from his touch. The man began drawing circles over your skin with his thumb, almost like he tried to soothe your shattered nerves. You gasped at the sudden force he had put you in place.

— Watch yourself and think twice about answering again.

— It was mutual.

— Mutual? — He repeated mockingly. — Johnny boy would fuck anything that moves in ten miles radius. And it just happened to be you.

— How dare you speak like this? — You turned your head to look him in the face. When you did, you saw the insolent smirk painted over his pale face. — He is at least decent towards me, he’s kind and caring. We did nothing wrong. Why do you care?

Simon leaned down right next to your face. He continued to stare you down, his brows narrowed in deep disappointment.

— You’ve built a wall between us, sweet girl. Yeah, you did. If there was something you ever needed, you should have come directly to me, your Lord. And I can assure you, Johnny did not give what you craved and desired.

Inconveniently your face changed its colour to vivid blush, when he suggested such things. Your stomach felt like one, big knot twisting its way to get stuck in your oesophagus. Was that it? Was this how he perceived you? Was he jealous of the fling between you and Johnny or was he simply cruel?

Lord Riley let go of your pretty neck and caressed your cheek with the knuckles of his fingers. Just like one would touch a lover and another – a pet.

— You’re frightened. Are you scared of me, is that it? Be obedient and you won’t have to be. Or do you really want to be punished so badly?

You quickly denied by shaking your head to the sides to which he only hummed. His weight shifted behind your back and a trail of footsteps could be heard as the Lord of the house left the dining room.

A moment passed before you caught yourself staring at the bowl of now cold porridge, slowly digesting the conversation you just held with him, your Master.

The burden upon your poor, poor mind has overwhelmed you and the realisation of a potential madness weighed heavily upon you. Nothing made sense. Not a single logical explanation has come to light to soothe your fears.

After those couple of weeks the staff and maids stayed in the shadows, Lord’s age did not match the tales of his youth and those horrible sounds you continued to hear at night? Ugh, they kept you awake, causing dark bags to show under your pretty eyes.

The manor itself seemed to have poisoned you. Was that it? The reason? You knew you had to leave the house as soon as possible. You had to…

Oh God, what have you gotten yourself into?

That night was no different to those before it. Wind blowing through the crack in the window’s frame, wheezing and whistling. Your bedsheets are exceptionally cold this time, causing you to shiver and tremble. The candle is still burning, a metal holder standing on the table.

When you finally manage to curl up under the sheets and doze away slightly, you hear this agonising, scary wails.

Wait. No.

Those are no wails.

I-Is someone moaning?

You raised up to a sitting position in a half asleep state. Loose strands of hair stick to the forehead as you continue to listen for more sounds.

Those seem to be almost human-like. Maybe they are?

You throw the sheets to the side and crawl out of the bed. You’re frustrated and moody, close to tears from the exhaustion of not being able to sleep. Before you left your chamber, you grabbed that damn candle light and took a deep breath.

Your bare feet left no traces behind as you walked down the dark hallway. The heart in your chest was about to burst, obviously you were still scared of the dark and what possibly lurks within it. The hem of your nightgown sweeped the wooden flooring that cracked underneath your weight.

Then, you heard those moans again, louder. You were getting closer. Following the awful sounds you finally get to its source. You knew where your feet happened to take you to and that you shouldn’t have dared to enter this chamber. Nonetheless, you did. The shroud of mystery had to be torn.

You slowly creeped towards the half-opened, heavy doors and sneaked inside where the darkness swallowed almost everything. Single candles had been lit across the room, creating an ascended ambience. You should have turned around and left, you understood that perfectly well. However, you wanted answers to all the secrets of the manor and its habitants.

Behind the wooden screen there was a large bed and two figures sitting on its edge. Gardener who was completely bare and whining into Lord’s shoulder, drool leaving the corner of his mouth. Thighs spread open and eyes closed tight. And there he was – Lord Simon dressed in trousers and loose, white chemise. His big hand was tightly wrapped around Johnny’s angry cock, pulling and twisting the sensitive skin. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as Johnny whined pitifully again at the sensation.

At least now you finally knew what those sounds were exactly – that stormy night Johnny came to you, were they also together? You couldn’t move and kept standing close to the screen, eyes transfixed at the scene you witnessed. So many emotions washed over you – were you embarrassed, scared or even jealous? The dots and the facts slowly began connecting. You had to make haste and leave this room. This house. You knew you had to get away tonight, before things would escalate. Oh God, you couldn’t properly breathe, your face and lungs felt like they were on fire!

— Looks like we have company — the coarse voice of a blonde man made your skin cover in goosebumps. He stared directly at you. — Want to join us?

Unknowingly you made a muffled whine of embarrassment as you swiftly turned around and started to walk away in a hurry. As if you were in some kind of trance, your body going automatically. You rolled up the long hem of your nightgown not to stumble upon it as you found yourself on the corridor again.

Christ! You forgot to take the candle with you!

The breathing became difficult as you had to navigate somehow in the complete darkness. A part of your heart felt betrayed by the erotic scenery you just witnessed, although you couldn’t completely understand why. You and Johnny were a one time thing, why would you feel sorry for him bedding someone else?

Probably because this “someone else” was your mutual employer.

There were heavy footsteps behind you, they were getting closer and closer. He was right behind the nosy intruder. You tried to fasten your pace, blindly going forward, hoping to find a staircase. Then it would lead you downstairs and outside of the building. But before you even made it halfway to the stairs, you bumped into a slim table standing by the wall. The vase standing on it fell and broke as the painful impact of the table's corner digging into your abdomen sent you to the ground.

When it was clear you were within his grasp, you tried to crawl further away from him, trying to escape somehow. But Simon was faster and he collected you from the floor.

— Come, before you’re gonna hurt yourself. — Lord Riley said as he managed to lift up and throw you over his broad shoulder with little effort.

You tried to break free by kicking like a goat and punching him with your curled fist. But how could the strength of a city girl ever compare to the former soldier’s? You groaned, you kicked and you cursed. Nothing could have prepared you for the harsh slap that Simon planted on your bottom. It stung, causing you to go still over his shoulder. And when he spanked you again you bit your lower lip, trying to confide any pathetic whines.

— Should have whipped you long ago. Maybe it would teach you some respect.

— I didn't mean to interrupt, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my Lord!

— Oh, you happened to join us just in time.

Lord Riley took you back to his bedroom and tossed you down onto his remarkably large bed. This time, he locked the doors from the inside and removed the key from the lock. You were stuck there with them. You managed to back up a little, before Johnny reached you. He sat at your side and carefully extended his hand towards your petrified face, a curtain of hair covering your pretty features.

— It’s alright, bonnie. Calm down.

— I don’t want to be a part of this. — You stated, kneeling on the bed sheets splayed beneath. Simon stood tall with his hands crossed in front of you and the gardener. Johnny gently began to caress your back in a soothing manner.

You were caught red handed, busted the only chance to run away and now you were more than positive he would never let you go. You tried to conceal the fears and shame, because now was the time to uncover the truth.

— What is this? — You asked with a shaking voice, eyes transfixed on the two figures of men, going from the blonde to the brunette. — What’s going on? Please, let’s forget about this. I’ll go back to bed. I–I…

— You already are in one — Lord took a step forward and caught your jaw. He yanked your head up, forcing you to look at him. — Have you finally figured it out? I directly gave you clues. Come on, you’re a smart one. Put the pieces together.

How could you come up with a logical conclusion? Everything you gathered through the weeks could be interpreted as a mad woman’s nonsense. But you weren’t ill, you were aware of the games going around you.

— You’re much older than you look, that’s what I know. And that you’ve done horrifying, unforgivable things during your service. Lord– Simon — you corrected yourself — what have you done?

— Think. Harder.

His patience was running thin. Simon spoke through his bared teeth.

— Oh, God. Are you a part of this? — You looked at Johnny, before the blonde man caught your throat and lifted you on your feet again.

— Don’t be harsh on her! She doesn’t know better. She needs to learn. — The Scotsman said to your defence, narrowing his thick brows and scrambling the bridge of his nose. All this time he was sitting comfortably on the bed, absolutely not bothered with his nakedness.

— There is no God here, sweet girl, I already told you. Only me, Johnny and well, you. I’ve been kind enough to share a piece of me with you and that’s how you repay your Lord? In such childish, pathetic disobedience? Fucking nosy, aren’t we? Or just eager?

The tall, bulky man reached with his other hand and forcefully cupped your crotch through the thin material of the nightgown, causing you to wriggle in his hold. He prodded against your slit with his finger, toying with you, testing the limits and your responses. And you were very responsive.

In that moment you thought about the choice of literature Simon had given you. The main plotline revolved around immortality and its consequences, which would somehow explain… some things. Yet what about God? Why did Simon detest him so much?

— God turns his back on people like me and once you sin for us, he will turn on you too — he mockingly snorted, before continuing your torment. — If he didn’t already.

You tried to tear from his hold, shaking yourself and pushing his chest away. Lord Riley stood like a mountain, not moving an inch. In a quick movement he twirled you around and took a firm hold of the nightgown material at your back. Then you heard how loudly the stitches broke and the teared material slowly fell to the ground, exposing your much alive and young flesh.

Before you realised you were completely bare and managed to cover yourself somehow, Simon grabbed your arms behind your back so you couldn’t move further.

— I think he sent you to us as a gift — the man leaned against your shoulder, whispering into your ear. — Yeah, that’s what you are – a sweet, innocent present. Isn’t she cute, Johnny?

Brunette finally stood up from the bed and gently caressed your hip. He was standing so close, you could feel his pulsating cock and its leaking tip on your supple thigh.

— Aye, she is lovely.

— Have you tasted her, boy? That night you sneaked under her covers? — To which the dark haired one denied. — Well, I think you should compensate the little lady, no? Help her calm down, you know how women can get… hysterical.

— W-Wait, wait, no, n-no…

Simon sat down on the edge of the bed and placed you between his massive legs. One of his hands wrapped around your fragile, swan like neck and the other cupped your left breast. Meanwhile, Johnny got down onto his knees and moved closer to the two of you and before he dived between your thighs he looked into the dark irises of his Lord. Not yours.

— He eats like I starve him beforehand. You’re gonna find out, lovely.

You tried to squeeze your legs shut, but the gardener kept them spread wide so he could lean closer to your cunt. And when you tried anything like moving or wriggling away, Simon would pull or twist one of your nipples causing you to yelp.

— She’s really pretty — the Scot said, parting your lower lips apart. The shame washed over you, causing your head to turn into Simon’s shoulder. — Never could have pulled such one while in the army.

Then he flatten his tongue over your most sensitive parts and started dragging it along the slit. You entangled one of your hands within his brown strands of hair, on top of his head pulling slightly. When his lips sucked at your clit you finally moaned, releasing some tension and anger within you.

— Bird’s already singing.

Simon purred into your ear, nuzzling his eyebrow ridge into your head. The feelings and sensations you were experiencing overflowed your system. The man you trusted as your lover was assaulting your cunt with his mouth and the Lord you were supposed to work for was enjoying the show. You pressed your eyes shut, trying not to cry. But you finally broke and the salty streams began to run down your rosy cheeks.

— You think she deserves to cum, Johnny? — To which the kneeling men nodded vigorously. — Use your words, stupid mutt.

— Please, Si, let her. Look how stressed she is. Poor thing, she might need a few more.

— A few- Ah! M-More?! — You squealed again, when someone rolled your nipples between their fingers.

When your peak neared, you tried to turn your head away and hide. You didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your face in pure bliss. Simon held your head against his sternum, pressing your forehead backwards.

You felt like you were on fire, orange flames licking your fingers, your breasts, your inner thighs.

— That’s it, good girl.

And when the knot finally bursted, a wave of painful, white pleasure washed over you. The orgasm was so strong, it blinded your senses for a short moment in which the men flipped you around the bed.

Johnny was supporting your shoulders and your head, while Lord was stirring in front of you. He threw your legs over his thighs and scooped closer to your still wet with saliva crotch. And not only with that…

The new wave of panic overwhelmed you when Simon began to undo his trousers. He was taller and bigger than the gardener in every aspect, you were scared. Taking two lovers, without marital vows? Does this make you a whore? But you didn’t want this!

— No, no, no… — You weeped sadly, trying to crawl away, before Johnny began to caress your head. His grip was tight and successfully held you in place.

— After tonight, we’ll be joined as one, bonnie. Just us, here in this house, forever.

— But I-I don’t want this, Johnny! Please, let me go. Let me go.

You repeated as Simon pulled you by the hips closer to him. His now exposed, thick cock stiffened over your soft abdomen, leaking some precum.

— Shh, Simon knows what’s best for us. He knows.

When the tip of his length caved his way inside of your warm, silky walls, he was at least decent enough to take it slow. If you felt full during that first night spent with Johnny, this time it seemed even fuller. With his flesh, Simon filled you to the brim, still not even moving. The man saw your struggle to relax, so he leaned down and sucked the thin and delicate skin below your jaw.

Meanwhile Johnny brushed your hair backwards and with the other hand he caressed your ribs. Somehow they knew how to press each individual button to make you docile enough.

They learned how to tame you.

Only then, Simon began to move his hips, thrusting slowly and continuously fastening the pace. His movements made you sway along Johnny’s knees. Your breasts bounced within the rhythm and your eyes searched for them through the half absent haze.

You got lost in the moment, every breath merged with another. Hands roaming over your body, whose owners you couldn’t really assign, the burning stretch in your cunt that began to lube itself to ease the friction.

The pleasure that crushed over your sensible thinking, put you in an almost ascended state. You were still sobbing, when Simon fastened his pace and his cock penetrated you deeper, kissing your cervix. You were still trembling, when the two men started making out above you. Their lips crushed in a vulgar exposition of their affection.

— Can’t you see that you’re lost without us, lovely? — The Lord’s voice shaken as he was getting closer to his climax. He leaned down and kissed you, almost stealing your breath away.

— Wouldn’t last without us, would you, lass?

They continuously somewhat mocked you and each time after they did, they cooed at you or leaned down to “kiss it better”. By the time Simon finished inside of you, groaning loudly, he spilled the warm seed inside your walls to, as Lord claim, “make you theirs”.

— Don’t worry, we got you now. We’re gonna take care of you. Just let us… get familiar first. — Johnny said calmly, when the blonde was massaging your tense things. You knew they weren’t yet sated.

That night you happened to lay over one of Simon’s bulky arms like a pillow. He caged your body from behind, his chest pressing tightly against your spine and Johnny laid on his side in front of you. Through a half awakened state you managed to look through the window that faced the treeline. An edge of forest shrouded in thick, morning mist.

Tonight you finally were able to put the pieces together. However it was too late anyways.

The house seemed to be stuck in time and space, so were its residents. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames. Every aspect of the building stays the same, untouched and reclusive for many years to come.

You finally let the heavy eyelids close. The sun was rising.

Obviously very inspired by Ghost's music and Crimson Peak, here is Spotify playlist ⟶ 𝕏

#victorian au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #cod mwiii

237 notes · View notes

kaileedraws · 2 months

Text

Introduction: Adrien Agreste

Hey fellow miraculers! Here’s Adrien and a little about how he’s going to be portrayed in this AU. I’ll list the characteristics and/or problems that I saw in the show and then delve into how I’m going to take things here. Most of the issues I found in his character is just that his issues aren’t really talked about, but the subtext of a great character is there and he definitely has main character potential

1. His outfit

This is honestly a budget issue/creating recognizable characters for the show, but like all characters, I want to see more Gabriel Agreste fashion on him.

2. Love interest or main character?

In the show, it’s said that he’s the main character, but he doesn’t appear as such. A lot of his emotions, struggles, and life isn’t delved into as much as Marinette, yet he has so much potential. He’s a teenage Rapunzel trapped in a tower waiting for his ladybug in shining armor to come save him. I want to explore not only his fears of losing his freedom, but also his experimentation with rebellion and standing up to his father.

3. Adrien as a Model

In the show, his life as a model isn’t talked about really much, he just thinks it’s boring and it’s a nuisance to him. However, with some research, I discovered how horrible it can be. For one, Adrien would become desensitized to personal space and being touched without permission, putting him into awkward positions in his job and even with classmates. He would get taken advantage of a lot easier. As a model and celebrity, Adrien would also experience Parasocial Confusion — which is when a celebrity has difficulty distinguishing between genuine personal connections/love and relationships/infatuations of fans. This would make relationships with him incredibly difficult.

Additionally, model assault is a huge thing in the fashion industry. Unfortunately, because Adrien is such a pushover and people pleaser, this puts him up to be a prime target for abuse that he probably thinks is just normal (yes this happens, I promise, it sucks.) I want to see a huge character arc with him learning about personal boundaries and learning how to enforce them, with his friends teaching him what is Ok and what is not socially.

4. His personality before his mother dies

If I’m not mistaken, I don’t think we ever get much insight into how Adrien is like before Emilie “disappears.” From what we know about her, she is a princess and an actress, which brings me to my headcanon:

Emilie brought Adrien up on broadway shows, fairytales, and romances — this would explain why he has an “old fashioned” ideology that “boys save girls” (S3E3). This would also explain his gentlemanly behavior— like he was literally written/taught his behavior by a princess (he was. Her name is Emilie).

Inspired by musical theatre and the arts, Adrien began to take dance classes, where he meets Chloe Bourgeois — Emilie is to blame for this, and Gabriel would rather him take fencing, but he gives in. Chloe and Adrien become childhood friends through dance and being partnered often is how they became so close. Based on his “breakdancing” moves as Chat Noir, I think it would also be reasonable that he took other forms of dance too, like hiphop.

As Emilie started to get sicker and sicker, his ambitions for dance and the arts faded. He began fencing like his father wanted to and abandoned dancing. He and Chloe still remained close friends — as this was the only friend he was allowed to have. Gabriel knew Chloe’s dad, after all.

Although Emilie was portrayed to be kind, beautiful, and caring, it’s easy to paint memories of a person better than they actually were. Although she was those things, Emilie also was dramatic, hotheaded, and emotional. If Adrien did something wrong, she’d be quick to scold him harshly, but then just as quick to apologize for her outburst. Toward the end of her life, she was also rather absent from Adrien’s life, as she didn’t have much energy to take care of him anymore. It was difficult for her to take care of him as she got more and more sick, and he would often try to be the best little boy he could because he didn’t want to be a burden on top of her sickness. I mean remember, the last 3 years his dad had gotten him a freaking PEN for his birthday. This occurred when Emilie was still alive.

The person who raised him the most was Nathalie — as his mother became weak, and Gabriel became absent

5. Mental health and coping so he isn’t akumatized

Headcanon that to keep himself from being akumatized, Gabriel has him talk to a counselor who prescribes him multiple medications that work a little TOO well. Meaning? Let’s just say that he starts to become numb to feelings and that it’s just another way for his father to control him — His rebellion streak is going to hit hard yo.

Despite these methods, he’s still going to get akumatized — don’t worry, no one is safe.

His mental health illnesses insinuated from the show include depression, ADHD, parasocial confusion, abandonment trauma, social anxiety disorder, attachment disorder/trauma (which leads to lack of boundaries), and to add some spice, probably claustrophobia (or just feeling trapped). This poor boy has so much he needs to shift through and I’m excited to guide him on an arc to healing.

Conclusion

I think Adrien is my favorite character simply because of how there are certain aspects of him that I heavily relate to — plus he’s such a kind soul who has every right to turn into a villain but stays a sunshine golden retriever boy. It takes a lot of strength and determination to go through so much and be good in the end. I can’t wait to write him in this AU and give the boy the healing and happiness he deserves. There’s so much more I could talk about with him, but this is just the beginning!

#oh no he’s hot #miraculous au #simply miraculous au #miraculous but as older teenagers #miraculous fandom #dark miraculous au #simply miraculous headcanons #miraculous #adrien agreste headcanon #Adrien agreste #simply miraculous #miraculous rewrite #miraculous redesign

142 notes · View notes

tsukimefuku · 5 months

Text

old regrets and guilt ridden pasts ꕥ higuruma hiromi

this part → part 2 → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you and hiromi are sent out on a mission to exorcize a strong curse at an abandoned hospital. as hiromi has to use his domain to strip you from your cursed technique, things start to go downhill.

tags: +18!, starts out with an explicit! sex scene, some smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, mentions of death, grief, yuuji and nanami make an appearance, implied past nanami x reader, overall angst, fluff, hurt + comfort.

wc: 3.9k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. written to the sound of nothing in my way (keane). as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

The day had been pleasant. You and Hiromi shared a lazy Sunday with no missions or jujutsu sorcery whatsoever, watched a few movies on TV, talked and spent time together. He tried teaching you principles of criminal law, but you understood virtually nothing.

After a few glasses of wine, though, your hand wound up on his thighs, his lips on your neck, and well, here you were.

You were splayed in front of him, propping up your body with your arms, and his abdomen was pressed sweaty against your back, as he rolled himself into you. Hiromi had one hand on your thigh, and the other supported him over your trembling body.

"Ah, Hiro-" you gasped, in between mewls and moans, turning your chin over your shoulder, just so you could ask him to move, making it easier for you to come undone over him.

He huffed, warm, humid breath pressed against the hair in the back of your neck, as he answered with a husky voice, "yes, my love?"

He had called you that once or twice before, but this time, it swirled and tangled itself around you like divine rope, drowning you in molasses. The request you had lingering went straight to the back of your mind, as you moaned to the sound of his gravely, breathless voice calling you 'my love'.

"Call me that again," you pleaded, whimpering, while you felt him brushing against the deepest parts of you.

"Ah, my love..." Hiromi repeated, an audible smile while he spoke, nuzzling his gorgeous hooked nose behind your neck as he planted wet kisses wherever his lips passed. "My love, my love, my love…" His mouth traveled to the back of your shoulder, and you lifted your head to moan his name, shivers prickling on the roots of every hair in your body.

He kept cooing my love against you until his speech became nothing but incoherent mumbling against your bare, sensitive skin.

Before you noticed, his hand, previously on your thigh, descended to rub you as he approached his own release, and upon the pressure from his digits on you, already sensitive by then, you let out a strained moan of his name.

Hiromi came with a watery groan, having you tip over the edge some time after, letting out a last cry for him.

As you were navigating your euphoric ecstasy, trying to keep the comedown at bay for a few moments longer, both falling to the side with him pulling your body closer, you felt him whispering against your locks.

Even though you couldn't be sure about it, you thought you heard Hiromi say I love you.

***

"I have to go," he said, playfully trying to untangle your arms from his waist, kissing your cheek with the sultry smell of fresh black coffee breath. You were both in your balcony, the breakfast plates empty over the only chair you had, and you giggled and kissed his jawline insistently.

"Why do you have to go?" You asked, parting slightly to look at Hiromi. As he looked back at you, you formed a pout with your lower lip, and he smiled, planting a quick kiss on your mouth.

"Because I have to water the sunflower you gave me," he replied, lovingly.

"Why don’t you just bring your sunflower here? You basically sleep here the entire week now. You should bring some clothes too, and other things you might need" you replied, liberating his waist from your tight grip on his body, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Then you realized what that sounded like.

He also did.

"Are you... Asking me to move in with you?" He questioned, and you instantly blushed, red wash covering your cheeks.

"I... Just bring the sunflower already. I-" you stuttered, "just don't want you to leave every single morning to take care of it and change into clean clothes."

Hiromi put both of his hands on your shoulders and smiled fondly. "I will, I promise," he answered, as he kissed your forehead with a feathery touch. You smiled at him, and let your arms down, aligning his tie with the tips of your fingers. At that, he sighed contently.

It was then that you remembered what you thought you heard last night.

"Hey, Hiromi..." you began.

"Yes, my love?" He replied, sugary tone as he brought one of his hands up to caress your cheek.

You quivered to the sound of that, just like you did the night before.

"Yesterday, after we..." you cleared your throat, feeling a faint sense of trepidation creeping over you, "did you whisper or say anything? I mean, I thought I heard something."

He widened his eyes a little, and you could swear his face had become a light peachy pink. You kept silent, waiting for an answer, and his mouth opened, without a sound coming from it, as he blinked mindlessly thinking of anything to say.

Words failed him, hard.

Then, your phone rang.

You cursed internally at the interruption, sighing deeply.

Grasping at it with the tips of your fingers, you pulled the thing out of your pocket, seeing Gojo's name lit up on the screen.

Pressing the green icon, you said, "yes, Satoru? I was kind of in the middle of something."

"Hey!" His whimsical voice echoed through your ear. "So, we have a mission for you and Higuruma, and I'd like to ask for you to take Yuuji along."

"Oh, okay, no problem. What is it?"

"There's apparently a Grade 1 curse in a closed-down hospital, just by the outskirts of Tokyo. You or Higuruma alone would suffice, but I want Yuuji to train coordinating himself with other sorcerers in the field, so the more, the merrier! Also, you are both great at it, so he might actually learn a thing or two."

You smiled, noticing how this enthusiasm wasn't purely a facade. Gojo had been slowly — but surely — been chipping away at his frivolous-smile persona, and it became evident in how he sounded genuinely thrilled when talking about his students.

"Okay! I'll be delighted to have him tagging along."

"Alright, then!"

You hung up, and darted your eyes to Higuruma, that seemed curious about your call.

"We have a mission together. Just let me get ready" you stated, and he hoped for a second that you had forgotten the question you made moments before the phone rang.

You hadn't.

***

"Nitta, we'll be right back! Please, take care. This area seems kind of shady" you said, as you, Higuruma and Yuuji stepped outside the car.

The blonde woman turned her head to smile at you, giving you a thumbs up. "No worries. Also, I'm bringing the veil down right after you go inside. Even if we're a little far from the huzz buzz of Tokyo, it's better to be safe than sorry."

You nodded. "Great. Thank you, Nitta."

After closing the doors, the three of you began walking towards the hospital. It was a considerably big structure, and seemed to be closed off for at least a few years, with the unforgiving weather weaving black cracks of mold across the sleeping giant’s facade.

"So, are you excited?" You asked, turning your head to look at Yuuji. He looked back at you, big puppy eyes flickering with anticipation.

"Yes!" He chirped, opening a wide smile. "I really want to see you and Mr. Higuruma fighting together on the field, I heard you two are mad strong working together."

Barely before Hiromi began taking missions on his own, and after working together for some time, you both became something of a legendary duo for having exorcized a particularly strong special grade curse side by side in a sequence of black flashes — you both had dealt three black flashes each.

Hiromi silently smiled, gazing at you, and after noticing it, you couldn't help but blush a little bit. You shook your head softly, and breathed deeply to ease yourself back into professional mode.

"So, Yuuji-kun," you began, enunciating every syllable separately.

"Yes, sensei?" He replied, imitating your cadence.

"Let's have a quick run through on cursed spirits again, shall we?"

"Okay!"

"So, why do you think a strong cursed spirit manifested here, inside a closed off hospital?" You quizzed.

"Because cursed spirits manifest due to negative emotions, and places like hospitals, cemeteries and such pool a lot of those" He answered.

"Good! But this hospital has been closed off for a while, so what do you think could've happened for a cursed spirit to manifest here currently?"

"There are two options. First, it took some time for the negative energy to concentrate enough for it to appear," he began, "and the second is that this spirit had already been exorcized, but after a while, it respawned."

"Yes, yes, good," you answered, nodding, trying to keep a straight face to mask the proud feeling. "But there is a third option!"

"Oh, is there?" He inquired, whipping his head in your direction.

"Yes! If this is an almost special grade curse, like some we all have faced in the past, then it could've spawned elsewhere and come here out of its own volition" you completed, finger extended up beside your face to make your point.

"Oh, true!" He replied.

"So, which one do you both think it is?" Hiromi asked, as he mindlessly swirled his gavel around his fingers, the crunch of leaves and dirt under your feet filling the air.

As the three of you entered what you liked to call the invisible cloud, the point where the energy emanated by the cursed spirit around its area seemed to hit like a whiff of strong air, similar to the forming winds of a tornado, you sighed, putting your hands in your pockets.

"It's strong, but not that strong. I'd place my bets on the first or second options."

***

"There is no time to argue, Hiromi, I need to go in there with Yuuji and I need you to use your domain on me!"

The curse had its own kind of veil, from what you all could tell, and the only people allowed inside were those who apparently had no innate cursed technique. Yuuji easily peered his hand inside its realm, and so did Nitta, apart from her protests of being used as a lab rat.

"Judgeman can pick any random crime to judge, I have no say in that" he hesitantly answered. "It can be a serious offense, worthy of the death penalty. I'd just like to avoid that happening" he concluded, voice simmering with hesitancy hitting the back of his throat.

"I'm not a contumacious criminal, and you can go easy on me when it's your time to speak. Come on. We can do this!" You tried reassuring him, one hand planted to each of his shoulders. "I can't let Yuuji go in there alone, I'm responsible for him. He's my student, and a teenager."

"You sound just like Nanamin" Yuuji complained more to himself than anyone else, crossing his arms on his chest, still mumbling. I'm not a kid.

"Hiromi, please."

He sighed deeply before nodding.

"Itadori, I'll need you to step behind."

The boy acquiesced and distanced himself, as the other sorcerer stepped his way into your direction and expanded his domain, drawing you in.

No matter how many times you got pulled into other sorcerer's domains, going in was always a jarring and disorienting experience, overall.

In a few short moments, you and Hiromi were standing facing each other, and you sighed deeply at the sight of that shikigami, remembering that the last time you saw it, the thing gave you one hell of a headache.

Or better, it and Hiromi did, when he was still a curse user.

"Fine, let's go on with this" you stated, getting ready to hear yet another possible (or not) misdemeanor or unknown crime you might've committed.

But you weren't ready for the words that left the shikigami's mouth.

"February 24th, 2008."

That date.

"Odate City, Akita Prefecture."

Oh, no.

Your eyes widened in panic, and Hiromi saw it.

You could visualize his lips moving, he was talking to you. Perhaps asking if you were alright.

However, you heard nothing.

"You stand accused of homicide against-"

You didn't need to hear the rest.

"I confess. I killed him."

Whatever Hiromi was speaking suddenly drowned in his chest. You looked at him, and he tried futilely holding your faltering gaze to ask you what the hell was going on, shocked eyes wide open, but you just crawled your way back inside your head, desperately wishing for this fucking day to be immediately over.

"Confiscation! Death penalty!" The creature shouted, before dissipating away.

That little shit.

And then… It all happened in a split second.

Hiromi saw the Executioner's Sword in his hand. Yuuji began asking what the hell is going on under bated, preoccupied and terrified breath. You nearly lost your balance before coming back to your senses.

Hiromi immediately dispelled his technique, feeling equal parts mortified and disgusted to be holding that against you.

"Why did you-" the former lawyer began, extending his hand your way.

You flinched away, eyes glued to the ground.

"Not now. I have to go in with Yuuji and finish exorcizing this curse."

"My lo… Please" Hiromi pleaded, before exhaling slowly. "Be careful."

"I will."

***

Hiromi sat beside you, as Yuuji looked worried from afar, since you were never one to be so unbearably quiet and aloof.

The sorcerer knew you were finding it incredibly hard to speak right now, and when everyone got back to Jujutsu High, all you did was sit at the base of the stairs, not uttering a single sound, and not following them when they began walking upstairs.

Hiromi stayed quiet, gazing at you, and held your hand to see if you'd react.

You didn't move, frozen in your spot, feelings hurricaning inside you like a blizzard. You feared that, if you moved, even a single inch, you'd come crumbling down.

"My love, please, talk to me."

You couldn't do anything other than shake your head.

You just couldn't.

Hell, breathing was barely manageable under the broken dam of painful memories flooding your mind all at once.

Hiromi sighed, ever so patient, aware of what he had to do. He didn't particularly appreciate the idea, but it was his only option then.

"Tell me the truth" he began, "is it me that you need by your side right now?" Hiromi asked, earnestly.

Your lips trembled for a moment, your jaw clenched, and you searched for the strength to find your voice again. When you did, you felt horrible for what you knew you were about to say, but you chose to honor your promise to Hiromi — always tell him the truth, even when it hurt.

Truth is, you had never told him about your brother and all that happened at Odate, and right now, you knew you couldn't muster up the strength to explain it all to him. It would be necessary to make Hiromi understand the depths of the emotional struggles that had been at stake ever since his shikigami bestowed upon you the death penalty.

Only one person could talk you through this.

"No, it’s not."

He resigned, feeling the words piercing him like needles. The sorcerer was aware that he had to talk to you about it, but decided to do it at a later time.

At that very moment, he knew what you needed to talk about, and Nanami was the only person you'd speak to.

Hiromi got on his feet and walked towards Yuuji.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" The boy asked, genuinely concerned.

"Itadori, can you please call Nanami? Tell him it's important, that it's about her, and ask him to come" Hiromi stated.

Yuuji nodded and pulled his phone, immediately starting to dial.

After the call, Hiromi asked if you wanted to be alone, to which you nodded. He and Yuuji walked upstairs as you waited — for Nanami or for this feeling to go away, whatever happened first.

Some time passed before a car stopped in front of you.

As Nanami got out of it, he looked at you, and you had a completely defeated look on your face as you were still sitting on the same spot ever since you got there an hour prior.

He closed the door behind him and made his way towards you, steady stride taking him to meet you at the steps, as he, himself, descended, sitting by your side. He didn't glance at you, choosing to look at the sky after removing his glasses, putting them inside his blazer's pocket, and waited patiently.

Nanami had done this many times before, and knew you usually only needed some peace, quiet and space in order to begin spilling your ruminations and thoughts all over his ears.

With a sigh, you began.

"I got sentenced to death today for killing my brother. Wonderful day."

Nanami was instantly taken aback, not grasping what you were on about.

"Could you please clarify?"

You shuffled uncomfortably.

"We were fighting a curse, and long story short, only people without innate cursed techniques could enter its own brand of veil in order to fight it. I asked Hiromi to use his domain on me, so that Itadori wouldn't go in alone, and I was tried for my brother's death."

The sorcerer had some knowledge as to how Higuruma's domain worked, and it still didn't make sense to him. He knew that Higuruma didn't pick the crime to be tried, as it was chosen at random by his shikigami, and also knew there were two possible different penalties, confiscation and death sentence, the second reserved for the most serious of cases, which granted Higuruma the executioner's sword.

He also remembered very distinctly how your brother died, and knew for a fact that you weren't culpable for his death.

"I apologize, but I still don't understand how that could've happened" he proceeded.

"I..." you stuttered, "I confessed."

Oh.

"Why did you confess?" Nanami asked, voice lowering softly.

You looked at him, and in an instant diverted your gaze back to the ground.

"He died because of me, to save me. He sacrificed himself in a gamble for me to live."

"That doesn't make you culpable" he answered, his voice a mixture of empathetic and objective.

"Why not? He's still dead, and I'm still the reason he died."

You leaned your arms to hug your knees shortly after you said that, physically holding your pieces together.

“You're aware he’d wish you to be happy and at peace after he was gone, right?” Nanami asked.

“And that’s the worst part!” You let out, now finally choked on tears that wouldn't come, allowing your fragments to burst at the seams.

Relief, however, was slow to come, and your chest still was tight around your heavy heart.

Nanami was surprised at your response, and remained silent, so that you had the time you needed to elaborate on your feelings.

"I… I know he’d want me to be happy, so now I don’t just feel sad for his departure, but I feel guilty for not being able to fulfill his wish, to just be happy after his death."

You sighed tightly, trying to air out that wrenching sensation. It didn't work.

"I feel guilty for not being able to fulfill his dying wish. It's like... I failed him in every single way imaginable."

Nanami gave it a pause before he spoke again.

"I understand."

"You... do? I'm not crazy for feeling like that?" You inquired, looking at him.

Nanami shook his head. "No. Navigating grief is a hard challenge, and it can show itself in many ways, often nonsensical."

"I can't imagine how people deal with grief without undoing themselves every time they have to face it" you blurted out.

Looking at you, his eyes softened, as he said, "sometimes, they end up undoing other people in the process."

That caught your attention, and you looked back at him.

With half a mind to distract yourself from the pain regarding the loss of your twin, you unconsciously decided to poke at another kind of ache, one that you hadn't touched upon ever since you and the sorcerer in front of you had defeated the Lover's Pass curse.

"Kento, why-" you halted for a brief second. "Can I call you Kento?"

He smiled so discreetly you nearly missed it. "Yes."

Acclimating yourself to it, you proceeded.

"Kento, why did you shove me away like that after we spent a night together?" You asked him, unsure if you really wanted to know the answer to that question.

Nanami sighed and looked down for a while before he answered you.

"I was... Frightened."

That definitely took you unexpectedly, and you looked at him puzzled.

"Of what?"

"Dying and leaving you behind."

He sighed before allowing himself to proceed.

"No, that's not all of it."

Nanami took a few seconds to muster up the courage to admit the not-so noble part of his reasoning for doing what he'd done.

"I was afraid of the pain I'd endure if you died, too."

"Afraid of me dying? That was your reason?" You felt genuinely confused. "Why was that even a reason to push me away? This is a risk just as much now. I'm still a jujutsu sorcerer, you know."

"Yu Haibara" was everything he could say, involuntarily pinching the bridge of his nose, impassive face concealing the sting of pain that came from the depths of his past.

"Your friend?"

You remembered when Nanami told you about the mission where his partner died. How they were both chased by the town's people that treated the curse like a deity, how Haibara was fatally wounded, and how Nanami helplessly tried to flee taking Haibara with him, unable to do a single thing to save his best friend's life.

"Yes. At the time, I had only met a few older sorcerers who died in the field, and dying while on a mission myself felt somewhat like a foreign concept to me. I was young and just saw it as an abstract possibility of being a jujutsu sorcerer" Kento said. You waited quietly for him to proceed, collecting his thoughts.

"When he died, I felt his death deeper than any other that had happened up until that point," Nanami began, now turning his eyes to look at you as he said his next words, "and when I failed your mission years ago, it felt quite like the same. That distinct sense of helplessness and failure."

You were both silent for a moment, letting it all hang in the air.

"I thought that if I kept my distance, and something happened to either of us, it wouldn't hurt so profoundly for me or for you" he concluded.

Upon hearing that, you shook your head and looked away, smiling bitterly and incredulous.

"Well, that's just stupid."

He huffed, with a regretful, quitted expression on his face. "Yes, I know that now. But it seemed to make sense then."

After a few moments, gentle and polite, Kento got up and offered you his hand.

You took it and lifted yourself with his help, feeling like his unwavering serenity could somehow be passed over to you from that brief contact alone.

"Thank you" you murmured, nearly whispering.

"Whenever you need my assistance" he answered, fondly.

It felt like the film that had been suffocating you ever since you stepped out of Hiromi's domain was finally removed, and you could breathe in peace again.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass @redlikerozez

232 notes · View notes

sangrefae · 3 months

Text

saw @athina-blaine's ask abt a labru gamer AU so let me present my split second dunmeshi minecraft server thoughts

• thistle: created the server. Refuses to budge on the rules he put in place on day one, except for like 2 notable exceptions. Barely plays but always memorable when he does, builds the weirdest shit and then logs off for months at a time

• delgal: notable exception #1, he asked thistle to make it normal survival mode instead of hardcore bc it was too high stress. used to play very frequently until he got a new PC and moved on to other games. thistle has forbidden the other players from destroying the castle he made

• senshi: has taken it upon himself to do all of the farming and cooking in the game, has figured out the best ways to make the most efficient farms, is wildly talented w redstone but only in terms of making it easier to grow crops and breed friendly mobs. eagerly awaits new food recipes with each update

• laios: has made it his personal goal to capture each of the hostile mobs and keep it in his base as a personal monster showcase. Goes on hour-long mining excursions to fortify his base because the blazes and ghasts keep destroying their enclosures. Wants to find an ender portal but just to get shulker boxes, determined to figure out how to defeat the ender dragon without killing it

• falin: notable exception #2, she asked thistle to turn on keep inventory because she kept exploring and getting too lost but she didn't want to die and lose all of her stuff. has heard stories about the limits of the world borders and the farlands and is determined to find them. Good at avoiding hostile mobs but not at keeping herself alive so she tends to die from starvation or falls, senshi's most frequent visitor when she stocks up for her next excursion

• chilchuck: started playing to understand the game better when his daughters got into it, now it's developed into a guilty pleasure. The one who supplies the rest of the gang with materials as needed, loves the grind of collecting a billion stacks of cobblestone and dirt. Goes to the end w laios just to collect endstone, same w the nether. Also responsible for keeping the chests meticulously organized, he gives everyone hell if they mess up his system

• marcille: not usually one for survival games but got hooked when falin showed her the redstone systems and potion making. Has made a machine for everything she possibly could, is currently figuring out a fast travel system in the nether so falin can go further than she normally can in the overworld. Relies on chilchuck to fund all of her projects bc she's deathly afraid of mining and getting blown up by creepers. Goes to the end w laios to see if she can expand on the teleportation mechanics of ender pearls (is very disappointed when she can't)

• kabru: joined at laios's request, secretly hated minecraft and preferred the sims but still plays because he found out that you can make your own collection of villagers to trade with and consequently became obsessed. Didn't know about the pillagers and almost rage quit when they killed his villagers and destroyed his progress while laios just tried to catch the ravager to add to his monster zoo. Now recruits laios whenever pillagers show up bc he doesn't want to deal with the raids

• izutsumi: banned for griefing when she lured a creeper into a wing of delgal's castle where she'd put a bunch of tnt

#chattering #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #falin touden #thistle dungeon meshi #delgal #senshi of izganda #marcille donato #izustumi #kabru of utaya #sorry for the tag i just had a brain blast upon seeing that post LMAO #feel free to add more btw the post was too long for my brain so i stopped after izutsumi

150 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 3 months

Note

mabill au = perfection! i really like the gender stuff you do with bill, is there anything similar going on here? i would like to imagine that being mabel is just adding another ingredient to the gender soup. yum.

Quick note, fandom's already using the term "mabill"—about 2/3 of the time it means shipping Mabel/Bill and 1/3 it means Bill-possessing-Mabel a la Bipper—so please don't call this "mabill au." That'd make some people refuse to read it because they misunderstand what it's about, while other people excitedly read it and then get disappointed by the truth. (It WOULD be a perfect name, but I'm not gonna muddle a fandom term that's already been taken.) We're sticking with Sparkly Coin AU.

I run with the "Bill's gender is triangle (it's actually pyramid but he still says triangle because that's easier for people to understand)" headcanon in basically any continuity I imagine up. In this AU, Mabel fully identifies as a girl; but as some of her premortem memories start resurfacing, she starts identifying as a girl and a triangle/pyramid, but being a triangle is secondary to being a girl.

At that point she'd be willing to take either she/her or he/him pronouns... but she'd be extremely leery of WHY you want to he/him her. If Kryptos he/hims Mabel, that's fine, they've known each other like a trillion years and what are human pronouns worth to Kryptos anyway. If *Ford* he/hims Mabel, that's a red flag—"has he stopped seeing me as his great niece and started seeing me as an evil triangular imposter wearing his niece's skin?"—and it would put her on edge.

(For my own part, I'm sticking to calling her she/her postmortem to emphasize the fact that the situation isn't "Bill has amnesia; Mabel's a facade that will fall off when his memories return and he becomes Bill again" but rather "Bill has changed and grown since he became Mabel; when she remembers her past she's still Mabel." Bill-Mabel aren't two different people who share a soul, but one single person who got a really weird fresh start thirteen years ago. When Mabel & Bill interact in canon, Mabel's talking to her younger self, but neither of them know it yet.)

#anonymous #ask #sparkly coin au

160 notes · View notes

ctrlsht · 11 months

Text

Fragment of the Past 01

pairing: patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader genre: thriller & yandere au

summary: You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

chapter summary: As you get to know your patient, Jeon Jungkook, you begin to notice that something is wrong with him, until the day he confesses to you what really happened during the night of the incident.

chapter warnings: mention of PTSD and depression, mention of hatred towards the family, mention of murder. This chapter is the only chapter that isn’t too heavy. word count: 8K

note: This fiction will contain multiple mental disorders and psychology facts. I conducted my own research to avoid spreading misinformation, but there may be aspects I've overlooked, so I am open for any corrections.

"Dr. Y/N, your next patient is already waiting outside. Shall I invite him in?" Soyeon asked while holding the doorknob, your office door slightly ajar. You leaned back in your swivel chair, glancing at the clock hanging beside the door. Soyeon stood patiently, awaiting your response.

“It’s still 2:30 and my next session is 3 o’clock. He arrived early?”

“Yes, he did. In fact, he already arrived at 2. Although he mentioned not informing you since it’s still early.”

You looked at the clock once again and contemplated your decision. You still have 30 minutes before the new session starts but you’re not going to do anything, anyway. Just like your next patient, you’re just waiting for the clock to strike at 3.

“Let him in. We’ll just start early.”

After a few moments, the door opened once again and a tall muscular man entered the room. His movements are slow like he has all the time in the world and when he faced you, his eyes sparkled, and he offered a subdued smile without revealing his teeth. He removed his black ball cap and extended his hand, presenting you with a box of cake.

“Good afternoon, doc. I’m sorry I’m too early from the original schedule but I got you a strawberry cake. Heard that you love them.” He said.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Thank you and it’s nice to see that you’re in a good mood, Jungkook.” You smiled and reached the box of cake that he gave you. He smiled even wider as he removed his leather jacket and you immediately saw his full sleeve tattoo on his right arm. They were beautiful. It perfectly suits him.

“Thanks, doc. I’m happy that I didn’t dream about ‘that’ nightmare and I believe it’s because of the medicine that you prescribe me. You help me a lot.” He responds, sitting on the white sofa facing your desk.

When he is settled down on the couch in front of your office table, you press the ‘record’ button of your phone. You record your session with your patient for your advantage. It helps you review and recall the discussion that you had with them, and it’s useful whenever you’re writing a book. Having the recordings allows you to convey your words more precisely.

Of course, you always ask for their consent to record the conversation. However, there are patients who do not agree with it, and in such cases, you still record them. They wouldn't know, would they?

“Well, that’s good to know.” You said and got the folder placed on the side of your table and opened it. It’s the record of him for you to easily navigate his diagnoses. “Are you still visiting the gym like I’ve recommended to you?”

“Yes I do and it helps me to distract my mind to what happened. Going back to the gym helps me a lot, honestly. It’s hard to push myself to go back at first but as I was in there, it became easier.” His smile is like a pill that can light anyone’s mood. It is so bright and contagious. No one will guess that he suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. He witnessed how his mother died in front of him exactly six months ago and he suffers a lot. He’s unable to talk for weeks after the incident happened and was advised to attend psychotherapy.

Right now, he has made significant progress, and you're glad about it. Throughout your sessions with him, you've observed how he copes with his trauma and understands what's going on in his mind. It's a major trauma for him to witness what happened to his mother. According to studies, women are more likely to develop PTSD than men, and you've handled multiple cases with women experiencing PTSD. However, in your years in this career, he is the only man you've treated with this specific diagnosis. It's a new experience for you, especially since it's your first encounter with a male patient with this condition. You've conducted extensive research, but there are still things your patient does that contradict what you've read.

“During the weekends, I spend all night reading your book, Dr. Y/N and it helps me so much. Plus, it’s good and I love it. I can’t wait for you to release the book that you’re writing right now. When did you plan on releasing them?” He crosses his legs as he looks at you with so much adoration.

“I haven’t finished writing it so I haven’t planned the date of release.” you replied, turning your attention back to the folder in your hand. “I’m glad that my books help you. Do you think that you’ve already overcome your trauma with the event that happened?” You looked at him and the smile that he had seconds ago was gone. His lips were formed into a straight line and he stared at you. It only happens for seconds and he immediately brings his bright expression once again.

“I’m not quite sure about that, Dr. Y/N. I may be happy right now, but later on, I’ll remember the tragic event once again.” He responded.

“It’s okay. It really happens. Healing from your trauma doesn’t happen in a short period of time. But eventually, you’ll be okay. It may not be right now nor tomorrow but one day,” you assured him.

“Will you leave me after I completely heal, Doc?” he leaned forward, his gaze intense. You didn’t respond right away and waited if he’s about to add more with his statement but turns out, he’s also waiting for your response.

“Well, that’s quite the opposite, Jungkook. You’ll be the one to leave me after our final session comes to an end.” You tried to smile. “And as your doctor, I genuinely want you to heal and move on to continue living with your life.”

“Then I’m not quite sure if I’ll be happy for our final session to come to an end.”

You achieved success as a psychiatrist and book author within just four years of your career. Your excellence in your work is a result of the praises you've received from people. You've built a strong reputation and you're determined to maintain it. While you may be at the top now, you know there's still a long road ahead. You're committed to continuing to excel in what you do and to break numerous records..

The day has finally ended and you are still inside your office room as you continue on writing your ongoing book. The paradox of choice. You’ve released three books and this is going to be your fourth one. You’ve been pouring your blood, sweat and tears in every book that you’ve released resulting in its success and you’re confident that this ongoing book will be the same.

You have nothing else to do except to work 24/7. You’ve been doing this for the past four years already and you have no problem with it. In fact, you love everything you do. But there are people who’s against your life cycle.

As you type on your laptop, your phone chimes, seeing a notification from your friend, Taehyung. He's been your friend since you were in diapers.

Taehyung: You’re not at home. Where are you?

You: Clinic. Why?

Taehyung: what the. At this hour?

You didn’t respond because you figured out that he doesn’t have anything to do but to disturb you and honestly, you don’t have the time for that.

Taehyung: Join me for dinner. It’s on me.

You: Can’t you eat by yourself and you have to treat me just for you to have dinner?

Taehyung: You talked as if we’re not friends. Come on, Y/N. I know you love your job but don’t wait until you are the one who becomes a patient.

Taehyung doesn’t understand you. You’re doing what you love and you don’t have a problem with it yet he thought that you were drowning yourself with work. You can choose what you want and you choose to burn yourself from work. You don’t have any problems with it.

You decide to fix your things and get ready for Taehyung to pick you up. As much as you love your career, you also cherish your friendship with him. He's your only friend, and you don't want to lose him. You've come to consider him as family.

“My father is asking me again if I can now run the business in New York." Taehyung said as he got the pork belly from the grill and placed it in his bowl of rice before he put it together in his mouth.

“Tell him you haven't decided." You respond subconsciously while wrapping the pork in the lettuce and eat it.

“What amazing advice coming from a therapist herself.” Taehyung smirked.

"What is your decision then?"

"I don't really know, Y/N." He released a deep breath and continued. "I do want to manage it but I can't. I love what I'm doing right now."

Since his teenage years, Taehyung has been destined to inherit his father's assets, including the family company. However, Taehyung chose a different path and became a successful musician and artist. He's content with his career until his father reminds him of his obligation to take over the family's oil company in New York. He has been wrestling with this difficult situation for years and has yet to find a solution.

“Try to do both.” You suggest while having a mouthful of pork belly.

“I don’t know if you’re fucking with me or what but damn, Y/N. If you’re my therapist, I’ll immediately leave your clinic and find another one.” Taehyung rolled his eyes and you tried not to laugh. "I can't choose both and you know that!"

You do want to help your friend to get out of this situation but the only thing you can do is give emotional and moral support because you don't have control over his family. You do feel sorry for him but you can't do much.

"The conflict between personal desires and altruistic choices has been common in dealing with ethical dilemmas. Choosing a decision between what you want and what your father wants that will be beneficial for the majority is quite a difficult situation and you need to weigh them according to how you see it. Your father has been there for you and in return, he wants you to handle his business not only for the benefit of him but also for you." You pause and take a bite of kimchi before you continue. "But you wanted to keep pursuing the career you have right now. It's a personal gain. It's up to you if you become selfish or selfless."

Many researchers have presented real-life ethical dilemmas and case studies to understand how people navigate decisions that involve personal desires and the welfare of others. These studies often highlight the complexity and context-dependency of such choices which is what Taehyung is experiencing right now.

If you were to decide with his situation, you'd choose to continue with his career that he has right now. Life is too short to become selfless. What society makes people believe can result in each and everyone's failure.

If he chooses to do what his father wants, it won't guarantee success, as he has no clue about running their business. And even if he manages to muster the passion to understand how it works, he might not only fail himself but also disappoint his father.

You ended the night with Taehyung bringing you back to the clinic to get your car. It was nice catching up with him once in a while and hopefully, it won't happen often. Taehyung has known you since forever and he knows that even if you love him, you will still choose your work over him.

You were about to open the door of the driver seat of your car when you felt something. Or more of someone.

You don't hear any noise coming from afar or nearby and you're certain that you're the only one who is at the parking lot in front of the clinic but you feel like there is a pair of eyes that's watching you. You're facing the two-story building of the clinic and catch sight of anyone but the only thing you see is a light coming from the entrance and nothing else.

You slowly turn around to see the surroundings and the only thing you see is a quiet night street illustrated by a few streetlights. There is no one, yet you can still feel that pair of eyes looking at you.

You weren't sure if it's because of overworking or the alcohol you've consumed tonight but you're certain that one of it is the reason why you are having this kind of imagination.

—

“Good morning, Yunjin. You look pale today. What’s wrong?” You looked at your patient that’s seated across the sofa in front of you. Her lips were paper thin and she continuously blinked her eyes. Yunjin is a 25-year old diagnosed with persistent depressive disorder and she's been your patient for a year already. Being diagnosed with depression can cause a lot of factors including imbalances in brain chemicals like serotonin and norepinephrine. These imbalances can occur in anyone, regardless of their external circumstances. In Yunjin’s situation, it’s caused by her genes and hormones and most likely, she inherited from her family.

Yunjin came from a well known family and her life is what every person dreams to have. She already has everything yet she still suffers with depression.

Not because a person has a wealthy and happy life doesn’t mean they do not encounter problems.

“It’s happening again. I’ve lost track of my motivation to continue painting.” She speaks hoarsely. “Last week, I’m pouring all my hardwork and energy into what I’m working on but now, I’ve messed up. And I don’t even know why I am doing this because my work is mediocre in the first place.”

“You know that’s not true, Yunjin. Your paintings are amazing. I love them so much, especially the one you gave me.” You said carefully.

“No, you don’t understand. My works are trash compared to others.” Her voice is already trembling—on the verge of crying.

“Everyone has a unique and creative way to express their works. Not because you think that the works of others are more creative means yours are not. Your paintings are a masterpiece, Yunjin and I won’t get tired of reminding you about that.”

Yunjin is one of your patients who is incredibly transparent. She is consistently honest and open about her feelings, and you have played a significant role in nurturing this honesty. Over your years of being a psychotherapist, you’ve encountered thousands of patients with different problems and diagnosis. You’ve known the ins and outs of them and you’ve mastered the meaning of every action they’ve made and words they’ve said. You also know if they’re telling the truth or not and you can spot it within a single session.

That’s what you’re known—for being an excellent psychiatrist.

However, you’re not yet perfect and still working with your skills. You know that you’re already great but there is still room for improvement.

Not because you’re confident with how you read your patients means that it’s the truth. Sometimes, they deceive you and that’s a case that you have to improve with yourself.

It’s almost five and a few moments from now, you’ll have your last patient for the day. The truth is, you’re already exhausted with all the work you did today and given that it’s friday. Tomorrow, it’s a rest day, therefore, things should be done until today if you want to enjoy the weekend. But in your case, you’ll most probably work with the book you’re currently writing.

Jeon Jungkook is your last patient for the day and hopefully, after the session, both of you will feel relief.

“Hello, Dr. Y/N. You look so tired. Are you okay?” Jungkook asked you as he removed his bomber jacket revealing his full sleeve tattoo. He has a taste in fashion and it suits him so well. With his tall and muscular body, he can wear anything and still look stunning. Beside his body build, Jungkook is handsome. With his beautiful doe eyes and perfect smile, he can captivate anyone. And it’s something that you should be cautious about.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. You don’t have to worry about me.” You slightly smile and insist him to sit on the sofa. “Please take a seat. How are you?” You try to energize your voice to hide your exhaustion.

"Today was supposed to be great until one of my employees messed around at work. His name is Bryan, and ever since he got hired, he's been getting on my nerves. If it weren't for the fact that he's my uncle's son, I would have fired him right from the beginning," he began, settling into his seat.

“What happened?”

“He lost the memory card of the camera I used from the photoshoot yesterday and now, we had to redo the shoot.” His eyebrows scrunch as he tightens his lips.

“Your feelings are valid, Jungkook. It’s okay to feel that way. What you can do to control your emotions when you’re in that situation is to leave and take a break where you can breathe.”

“You’re right. But now, I feel okay. Relief even. I just fired him from being incompetent. Someone like him doesn’t belong in my studio, anyway.”

You take a pause to look at him. He looks at you with a blank stare and when he does that, he’s unbothered or doesn’t care. You admit that he’s not easy to read but you’ve learned to master his gesture and there is something about him that feels off.

“Can you tell me why his action results in you firing him?”

“Because he’s useless and I don’t need useless people in my team.” He responds like the answer is already obvious.

“Don’t you think that he can improve?” His gaze intensifies and after a moment, he smirks.

“My studio is not a training ground, Dr. Y/N. It’s a place where you should already master what you’re doing.” His fingers move in his lips to play with it, eyes still bore at you.

“I’ve established my business from the scratch and I’ve poured my blood sweat and tears just for my business to be in where it is now. Perhaps, I have the right to do anything that's better for my studio. I know what my worth is. Don’t you think, Dr. Y/N?”

He’s full of himself. But you didn’t say that.

“Well, you have a point, Jungkook. But you’re the one who said it. Your studio is made from scratch and perhaps, you know what being in your lowest point feels like.” You try to smile genuinely. “It’s okay to know your worth and at the same time, look back where you came from.” You looked at his medical records and proceeded. “How’s your condition? Are you still experiencing anxiety?”

“30 minutes ago. When I was traveling to get here.”

“Why? What’s running in your mind?” He wiggled his ankle and continued to play with his lips, thinking of the answer.

“I was nervous during the ride. I don’t know but sometimes, you make me feel nervous.” He let out a playful chuckle.

“Why?”

“The fact that you knew everything about me makes me feel something. You’ve known everything about me yet I don’t know a single thing about you.” You don’t understand what's his point so you try to laugh to ease the heavy feeling you feel right now.

“Of course, you knew me, Jungkook. You’ve mentioned that you knew me even before the session started.” You give him a smile and you put down the folder that you are holding right now.

"Yeah, I know you, Doc. Everyone knows you. I'm aware of everything that's public about you. What I want to know is who Dr. Y/N is without her MD and PhD. What do you do during your days off, and what are your hobbies besides helping people with their problems?" He glanced at the wall beside you, where a painting of you hangs. It's a picture of you that people can see in your books, a gift from Yunjin.

You’ve known Jeon Jungkook with his traumas and all however, you don’t know what he’s up to right now. He entered your clinic being a fragile person with his traumas and right now, it felt like you’re talking to another person. Maybe because this is him without his diagnosis.

And you don’t know how to feel about it.

—

It’s a photoshoot day for a magazine featuring you as a doctor and an author as well. It’s a media organization focusing on psychology and human behavior and you’re delighted to be featured for the upcoming magazine. You’ve already featured in some magazine but this time, it’s different because it’s ‘Psychology Today.’

You’re now on your way going to the studio with your team along with your agent, Kim. You seem to look calm and relax but deep down, nervousness is wrapping your insides. It is by far the biggest media organization where you will be featured and it’s another achievement of yours.

As you get out of your car, you weren’t surprised that the location where the photoshoot is going to be held is this enormous. It’s a four-story building located at the center of the city. You’re not sure if the media organization also owns this but as you looked at the name of the building, it looks like it isn’t.

GCF Studio

As you enter the building, you are greeted by enthusiastic guards and staff, which motivates you even more for this shoot with them. The interior is minimalist, with the entire first floor being plain white. When you walk through the glass door, the first thing you see is the reception desk. To the right, there are couches and a coffee table where people can wait, and to the left, there's a cafeteria. You walk straight ahead toward the elevator, and one of your assistants presses the button for the third floor.

As the elevator door opened, you were greeted by a hallway with various doors, clearly indicating it's a working area where the shoot takes place. You walk a few steps before entering through double doors, where you find a bustling room filled with people busy at work. It resembles a dressing room but on a larger scale, with various outfits hanging, and several vanity mirrors where people can prepare for their shoot. It's fantastic.

“Good morning Dr. Y/N. Before we proceed with the shoot, I’d like to discuss with you what look you’ll be having for today. You also have full control of what you would like to look at and we’re here to assist you.” You are greeted by a young male with full of feminine energy. He’s tall and petite wearing a white blouse and a sweater that is hanging on his shoulder. He leads the way and you smile before you follow him.

You’ve thought that this photoshoot will only take an hour of your time but you’re wrong because an hour just passed and they were still dressing you up. You didn’t feel uncomfortable because everyone is approachable and enthusiastic. They made you feel that you’re indeed their client.

After an hour and a half of preparation, you finally entered the photoshoot studio, and once again, you found many people inside. You're not entirely sure about each person's specific role here, but everyone is clearly occupied.

But the atmosphere immediately changed when the door swung open. It was chaotic seconds ago and right now, everyone is silent looking at the person who just entered.

You saw a familiar figure. His tall and muscular figure is very familiar to you. He’s wearing a black slacks and a casual long sleeve polo that’s folded up until his elbow where you can clearly see half of his tattoo while his hair is pulled back.

Jeon Jungkook is undeniably handsome and he knows it.

“What’s this chaos? I told you that once I’ve entered the studio, everything should be ready.” His voice was threatening as he spoke with authority. A side of him that you’re not surprised to see.

What surprised you is the fact that he’s inside of the studio.

What is he doing here?

Everyone works silently as if they were being oppressed in their workplace. They were enthusiastic and approachable seconds ago and it all changed when he entered inside.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/N. It wasn’t obvious how you look surprised to see me here, aren’t you?” Jungkook gave you a boastful smile like he doesn’t look threatening a few moments ago.

A sign of bipolar disorder.

“Welcome to GCF Studio where there is no room for failure.”

You will be working with one of your patients and you’re not even aware of that.

Ethically, there is nothing wrong with working with your patients outside the session but you aren’t fond of that. The idea of working with your patient outside the session doesn’t suit you and particularly with the patient that is in front of you right now.

You haven’t thought of the reason why but you just don’t.

Everything is already set up, and you are now behind the backdrop while Jungkook is holding the camera, ready to capture everything. You're confident in the outcome of this shoot, but at this moment, it feels like everything is crashing down at your feet. Everyone is looking at you with high hopes for the result of this photoshoot, and you wouldn't want to ruin it.

“Smile for me, Y/N.”

—

You don’t know how you manage to end the photoshoot smoothly knowing that Jungkook is making you uncomfortable. You were mad at yourself because you don’t know why you felt that way. He isn’t doing anything but to do his job in taking a photo of you.

Now that you're home, you don't have anything to be distressed about when thinking about what happened during the shoot.

You have to admit that there is something wrong with his words and actions. There are signs that he’s becoming manipulative and a sudden change of mood. He's self-absorbed and lacks remorse for others. You’ve been thinking that there are other diagnoses with his actions and behaviors however, you cannot suddenly show up and tell what other illness he has. You still have to observe your sessions with him.

You have now freshen up and are ready to rest but you decide to visit your office to check your schedule for tomorrow and the following days. You only have one patient for tomorrow and most of your schedules are meetings. Before you log out, you glance at the folder of Jungkook in your patient list and you click it subconsciously.

Jeon Jungkook, 31-year old male who suffers from PTSD, after surviving an extremely traumatic incident.

He witnessed his mother die in front of him and aside from that, he was also shot in his left thighs twice. And it happens in the comfort of their home.

The suspect? A loan shark who’s coming for his mother.

There are a lot of questionable things that happened during the incident and one of them is how come that he always claimed to have a successful business while his mother is buried in debt? He also claimed that he doesn’t know about the debt of his mother. There are several inconsistencies in his story but the bottom line is, the loan shark surrendered and is now in maximum security prison for murdering his mother.

You transfer the recordings you made over the following days to your computer and listen to one of them, specifically the conversations you had with Jungkook.

You have 12 sessions in total with him and you have 5 more sessions left before it finally comes to an end. You don’t count the remaining number of sessions with your patient until now.

—

You love to read books during your free time, However, it most likely does not happen due to your busy schedule. But right now, you take a break from everything and decide to go on a date with yourself. You don’t normally take a break but you’re becoming busier than usual and you don’t want to risk your health because you know that there are a lot of people that need you.

You’re not a fan of going out and you prefer to stay at home and rest but getting out of your comfort zone won’t hurt you. You decided to visit your favorite cafe and do your thing there. You dislike rowdy places, that’s why you went early in the morning where people are still in the comfort of their bed.

You underestimate the morning and how you’re used to people getting up mostly before lunch yet there are people who also like you—waking up at 6 in the morning to get a morning coffee in their favorite cafe.

“Dr. Y/N! You’re here!” You lift your head to see Jeon Jungkook standing in front of you with his bright smile while holding a cup of coffee.

Among all the people you could meet here, you don't understand why it had to be him.

“Jungkook. I didn’t know you’re here.” You try to return the smile and you almost fail when he sits in front of you.

He’s wearing a casual polo shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. Unlike the last time you saw him, every strand of his hair is falling into a harmonious arrangement. It looks so soft and suits him well. He looked effortlessly handsome as usual.

“Just grab a coffee and then, I saw you.” He smiles sweetly before he gazes down at the book you’re reading. “I don’t know why I am surprised that you like reading books even for the fact that you’re an author.”

"I read when I have time," you respond. "How are you?" you add, trying to steer the conversation away from yourself.

“I’m doing amazing. I’m continuing to write in my journal like what you suggest. It does help me a lot, Dr. Y/N.” He takes a sip from his coffee as he gets comfortable in his seat. He’s not leaving any moment now.

“That’s good. Journaling really works.” You just said whatever is in your mind because you’re thinking of an excuse to leave.

“That’s right. But we’re not in the session right now, Doc. We don’t always have to talk about me.” He leans backward as he glances at your book once again. “The four agreements. I’ve read that book before. It’s good. You’re really into self-help books, aren’t you? You like to write and read about them.”

“Yes. It does help me to improve my writing. How about you? I didn’t know that you also read nonfiction books.”

“I started to read because of your books, Doc.” He looks at your eyes filled with tenderness, traced the curves of your face as if he's memorizing it.

He’s been looking at you like that lately as if he wants you to drown with the way he stares. The way he looks at you carries an underlying tone, and truthfully, that's one of the reasons why you've become uncomfortable around him.

“I’m glad that I’ve encouraged you to read books.” You answer while looking at your wrist watch hoping that he understands that you wanted to leave already.

“Your photos from the last time were amazing. Our team has already sent you the soft copy. Did you receive it?” You do but you didn’t tell him.

“I haven’t seen it but I’ll check it out later.” You looked at your wrist watch once again.

“Yeah, you should. They were amazing. You’re stunning as always.” His eyes twinkled but you didn’t notice that.

“I want to thank you and your team for working hard on this shoot. I do appreciate it so much.” you smile and look at your wrist watch for the last time. “I’m afraid that I have to leave you right now. I already have to go home.”

“That fast? We haven’t talked a lot, Doc.” He fixed you with a steadfast gaze and you were caught off-guard. You’re thinking of what to respond but you were out of words. After a few seconds, he chuckles. “I was just kidding, Doc. I know how busy you are and I understand that.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I apologize, Jungkook. There are a lot of things that I have to do. But I’ll see you on tuesday.”

“You don’t have to apologize because I understand. Yes, I’ll see you on Tuesday, Dr. Y/N.”

—

Tuesday came and you just woke up yet you already wanted to end this day. It’s strange that you haven’t properly started your day but you already feel heavy to move forward. Yesterday was exhausting for all the work you’ve done and you didn’t get home until 10pm, however, it doesn’t justify your heavy feeling right now. You’ve experienced worse so you don’t understand why you feel this way.

As you make your way to the clinic, you receive numerous work-related calls, and you're already feeling tired from answering them. However, you have no choice but to attend to them.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/N. Your first patient has already arrived. Do you want me to let him wait inside your office or here in the lobby?” The receptionist spoke on the other line.

“You can let him in. I’m almost there.” When the traffic light turns green, you already move. “Is it Mr. Park?” You asked.

“No. It’s Mr. Jeon, Doc.”

Damn. That’s why the morning feels heavy.

As you arrive inside your office, you spot Jungkook in the corner looking at the frames that are standing in the chest drawers. The air conditioner is already on–Soyeon the receptionist must have turned it on. He immediately turned his head towards you when you opened the door and greeted you with his charming smile.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/N. I thought you'd take longer to arrive because the receptionist already let me in.” He greeted and walked his way towards the sofa–where your patient normally sits.

“I was stuck in the traffic. You know, morning rush hour.” You responded as you placed your things on your office table.

Jungkook is a punctual person. He may arrive early or on time but he is never late. If you count the things that you like about him, you’re counting nothing because that’s the only thing you like about him.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you asked him when you get comfortable with your seat. You press the record button on your phone that's hidden from him.

“Bad. I met my father last night and I wish I didn’t.” He brushed his hair back and slouched on his seat.

It's the first time he mentioned his father at the beginning of a conversation because he never does unless you ask about it. From his descriptions, his father seems like a terrible person. He never fulfilled his role as a father, often creating conflicts with his mother. His family life seems chaotic, and you believe it might be one of the reasons he's become the person he is today.

“Why did you meet him?”

“He just showed up to my house without permission to talk about bullshit. My life is already at peace and he’s ruining it.” His jaw tightened.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your eyes locked into him as you try reading his mind. You know that every patient that walks into your office has different problems in life and they are sometimes hard to predict but this man in front of you is something else. There is something in him that you couldn’t understand.

“No. He’s a waste of time. He’s really… Okay, I’ll talk about him briefly. He’s a horrible person and he doesn’t deserve to be a father to me. I never got to experience the love from a father because the only thing that he gave me is hatred. He always gets drunk and gamble and he cheated with my mom multiple times. I’m not going to be surprised when I find out that I have other siblings from different mothers. He’s the worst person I’ve known.”

You find his explanation vague but you didn’t think much about it and you let him continue.

“Do you have other instances where you see the different side of your father? Something that makes him a person to you?” You asked.

“None. Even during childhood. Especially now that he only wants money from me. He and mother are very similar to each other. Maybe that’s why they end up together. They both pissed me off and even though my mother is not here anymore, I can remember her because of my shitty father.”

You were taken aback with what he just said. He never badmouthed his mother until now. When he discussed his mother, there is nothing else he said rather than how he misses her and how she’s a great mother to him.

But you didn’t say anything about it and let him elaborate what he just said.

“Do you think that your parents do the same thing?” You asked–hoping that he doesn’t suspect your question.

“Yeah. They may be doing it in different ways of being a shitty person but they are the same for being useless parents.” He puts his index finger on his lips and slowly rubs it while resting his elbow on the arm rest, looking at you with intensity.

You’re finding a word to say but you found nothing. You wanted to look away but it would indicate that he caught you off-guard.

You saw a glimpse of his demonic character for a second. His eyes that had once been warm and inviting, now bore into you with an unnerving intensity as if trying to peer into your soul.

He spoke once again and his voice took on a low, whispery, and the words that slipped from his lips sent chills down your spine.

"Maybe that's why she died. Now, I wonder when my father will be next."

—

You're standing on the side of the street embracing the subtle chill in the air as the city lights painted the night with different colors. People are walking by and snippets of hushed conversations drifted on the breeze while the flow of traffic added to the scene with vehicles weaving through the crowd.

You don’t know why Taehyung is taking so long to arrive. You’ve been waiting for him on the sidewalk for 10 minutes already when in fact, he should have been here 30 minutes ago. You’re going to come with him on his event show because he’s been annoying you for the whole week to come with him and for him to stop, you just agreed.

What pisses you off more is that he's running late, and your stomach is growling. You haven't had dinner because Taehyung assured you that he'd swing by the drive-thru to grab something for you to eat.

You're waiting for Taehyung, but someone else showed up in front of you.

“Dr. Y/N, hi!” You met Jeon Jungkook’s eyes with his bright and warm smile. He’s wearing a gray hoodie and skinny jeans that fit him perfectly. You looked in the surroundings of him if he's with someone and it seems that there’s none.

“Hello, Jungkook. You’re heading somewhere?” You gave him a warm smile that hopefully, doesn’t look like it’s forced.

“Yeah. I’m going out for dinner. I was actually in that building,” He pointed out the building behind you and it looked like a law firm office. “I already saw you when I entered there but I didn’t have the chance to greet you because I’m in a hurry and now, you’re still here.” He glances at the road and returns his eyes to you. “You’re waiting for someone?”

“Uhm, yeah. I am.” You looked at your phone to see if Taehyung had a message but there’s none.

“You’ve been here for a couple of minutes already. Are you sure that they are still going to make it here?”

“Yeah. Maybe they—

You were taken aback when your stomach started to growl and heck, it’s so loud that you want the grounds to eat you alive. You were sure that your face was burning red and you couldn’t bear to make eye-contact with him as your gaze fixed elsewhere.

You glance at him as a soft chuckle rumbles in his throat. “I already hate the person that keeps you waiting in hunger. You know what, I’d love to treat you for dinner with me and drive you to your destination afterwards. Or we can just go to a drive-thru.” If he’s someone else, maybe you will consider his offer.

“No, it’s okay Jungkook. You don’t have to do that.” You glance at your phone to pretend that someone messages you. “My friend is already on his way. You can go.”

“Your friend of yours is really something else. What kind of man is he for making you wait for so long on the street with your stomach empty?” His voice took on a sharp edge as his eyebrows knitted together.

“I’m really fine. You don’t have to think about me.” You force a smile as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

“I insist, Dr. Y/N. I really want to treat you for being there for me during my worst days. You help me a lot and I want to get you something to show my appreciation. It’s nothing big and I will be guilty if I just leave you here.”

“I really appreciate your gesture, Jungkook, but I have other plans. Maybe next time?” You smile hoping that he understands that you don’t really want to go with him.

“With the same guy that made you wait in the cold air? Oh come on, Doc. You know better.” He spoke in a pompous tone, as if he proved that Taehyung is a horrible guy.

“You can make up to me some other time. I’m really–

You haven’t finished your sentence when Taehyung’s audi arrives beside you and he instantly gets out to meet your gaze.

“Y/N! I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. The traffic is so heavy.” He didn’t notice Jungkook until he opened the passenger’s seat and slowly glanced beside you. Jungkook released a sarcastic laugh and glared at Taehyung.

“What a surprise that Kim Taehyung–a famous musician and artist let a lady wait in the cold breeze with an empty stomach. I didn’t know that you’re such a gentleman, Taehyung.” He spoke in a mocking tone as Taehyung looked at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“You wouldn’t want to know.” He arched a brow before he returned his gaze to you. “If you really insist on being with this guy, then I’ll leave you already. I just hope that he won’t completely ruin your precious night.” He said before he finally turned around and walked away–placing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. When he’s already out of sight, you turn your head to Taehyung and glare at him.

“What?” You suddenly smack his chest before you hopped in the car.

“Damn you.”

—

It didn't take long before Jungkook was back, sitting on the couch in front of you. You’ve realized that your day always feels heavy every Tuesday of the week and that is whenever you’re going to have a session with him.

You've tried to shake off the discomfort you feel when he's in front of you because you regret thinking of him differently from your other patients, but every time you try, he makes it worse.

“Are you taking your medicines I’ve prescribed you?” You scan his record file that you’re holding.

“Yeah. I consistently take them, Doc.” He responded as he smugly looked at you and before you think of negative thoughts of him, you already returned your gaze back to the folder.

“Are you still having nightmares during your sleep?” He didn’t instantly respond like he’s thinking about the question carefully.

“I do. I still do, Dr. Y/N. But it wasn’t worse, unlike what I have for the last months.”

“Then it’s a good sign. You’re now improving. Are you still thinking about the incident?” You give him a genuine smile while he slowly crosses his legs and places both of his arms on the arm rest.

“Yes, but not as frequently as before. I love my mother so much but I’ve learned to let her go and accept the fate she has. Afterall, it was her fault.” He was looking at the painting that Yunjin had given you as he answered. He doesn’t have much of a reaction but his last sentence caught your attention.

“Why do you think that it’s her fault?” You ask in your soft voice.

“You see, my mother isn’t the perfect mother and she has her mistakes and sometimes, she doesn’t learn from them. She keeps doing the same thing until she has to pay for it and that costs her life.” He responded.

“Do you want to talk about the mistakes that your mother made?” He smiled and played with his lips once again. You’ve noticed that he’s doing that if he finds something funny or there are things that he knows and you don’t.

“But we will take forever if we discuss it right now, Dr. Y/N. But if you’re really interested, we can talk about it over dinner. You promised me last time that you’ll come with me for dinner.” You mentally rolled your eyes with his statement. Here he goes again.

“Not right now. I still have a lot of things to do but we can talk about other things like how great your mother is.” You said and he laughed—as if your statement is absurd. You try to not raise your brows with his action and behavior.

“Let's not talk about that, either.”

You were doing your best to understand his actions and statements but there is something in him that you haven’t seen. Something that will answer everything

“But I will tell you how I see my mother during the incident.” He leaned forward and intertwined his fingers “When my mother is kneeling and begging for her life, I was thinking that ‘damn. It’s really happening, isn't it?’. And when the trigger was pulled, the world stopped. And after a few moments, I felt a sense of relief and before I knew it, I was shot as well.” His voice was soft and light as if he’s confessing something that he should have confessed before.

You felt a shiver down your spine as the creeping horror crawled along your arms, raising goosebumps. You held unflinching eye contact, determined to keep your composure and hide the discomfort and fear you felt.

“Where were you when your mom was being shot?” You asked as you held your breath.

This question is already asked during the investigation. ‘I’m in the living room, 10 feet away from her. When I saw her position and situation, I immediately ran towards her but it was too late because before I even reached her, she was already shot in the chest. It didn’t take 10 seconds of my life before I was shot as well’.

But you still ask him once again. Away from the detectives.

“I was there, I told you.”

“Yes, but in what position?” Your hands are already trembling.

“I was standing,” He took a deep breath before he continued. His next sentence didn’t surprise you because it was something you already expect but trying to deny it to yourself, and it terrifies you, so much that you thought that this may be your last day.

“After I was shot, I collapsed, along with the gun I was holding.”

a/n: I'm almost done with the whole series so I've decided to post the first part. I hope you'll like this new fic because I enjoy writing it! I am open for comments to further improve my works. Have a nice day everyone!

taglist: @iloverubberduckiez-blog @kingofbodyrolls @fangirl-death-rose @looneybleus @softie00

792 notes · View notes

yoonia · 5 days

Text

Ever A Never After: Act 2 (1)

⟶ Chapter Summary | Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 15,410 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; slow burn, mentions of curses, black magic, theft, law terms. ⟶ Author’s note | Gosh, this took so long to update, and I’m so sorry for that. Act 2 has expanded way beyond planned, so I had to split this into two (shorter) chapters to make it easier to read and for me to edit. Still, this was roughly edited because I’m currently dealing with a lot of stuff (sick cat, health issues, mental block, etc), but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading this.

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1. 𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔄𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡

Is this a dream?

Am I dreaming?

You have to be dreaming. You are sure of it. Because there could be no other way to explain what is happening now.

But what exactly happened?

Just moments ago, you were standing in front of the most exquisite fountain you have ever seen, marvelling at its beauty—the artistic carvings around the pool, the crystal-like water flowing in slow ripples, and the waterfall that seemed to have manifested from the palace’s walls. You had gotten completely enchanted by the sight of the fountain that you were already drowning in it even before you fell straight into it.

That’s right. I fell into the fountain. But how did I fall?

Your memory is a bit fuzzy, most likely due to shock. All you can remember is that at one moment, you were standing there, watching the cascading water that appeared like a crystal veil falling into a pool of clear, silvery water, and then the next, you felt like gravity became stilted and you started falling.

You remember the sound of the water splashing and crashing all around you. And then came the cold. The water felt like ice as it engulfed you, adding weight to your dress as it soaked all over the fabric which was dragging you deeper, bringing you down, and down, with not a sign of you reaching the end of this fall anytime soon.

Is there really no end to this pool? Where is the bottom?

It seems odd to think that the pool you have fallen into could be this deep. You are quite sure you could see the bright white marble stone at the bottom of the pool when you were marvelling at the fountain earlier, and it didn’t seem to be this deep.

But even weirder is the fact that your dress. Despite having been soaked with water earlier, the dress is no longer drenched. Neither is your hair. Your body is dry, even when you still feel cold. Real cold. As if you are being embraced entirely with ice.

All while you are continuously falling. Still falling. With nothing embracing your fall no matter how much time seems to have passed since.

Turning to look down below, you can only see nothingness. The sight of endless darkness surrounds you from all sides and corners. All except one. Darkness is not the only thing that you see as you fall, as the part of the waterfall you saw at the fountain is here with you; a veil made up of crystal-like water cascading right beside you, an extension of the falling water you saw right before your fall.

How odd, you wonder, as you try to reach out to it as you continue falling. The waterfall seems to magically continue into the darkness beyond. As if there is no end to it.

Just like how there seems to be no end to your descent.

This is it, isn’t it? This is the end. You cannot help but wonder, finding no other way except to give in to fate. Instead of panicking and feeling terrified, for some reason, you find calmness. Calm enough to choose to touch the endless waterfall, feeling its icy stream with the tips of your fingers, instead of looking into the dark to embrace your final moment.

“So beautiful,” you whisper as rainbow colours magically appear in the water at the touch of your fingers. Sparks seem to spread into your skin as the water sprinkles out of the waterfall, splashing gently around your hand. “How lovely, it—oh!”

All of a sudden, everything comes to a sudden halt. Pain spreads through the side of your body—from your shoulders and down to your hip—as you fall onto a hard surface. Groaning in pain, you make no effort to move. Not until the throbbing ache begins to ebb.

Pressing your palm down, you nearly flinch instead of finding steadiness. The ground beneath you feels as cold as ice. It feels beyond uncomfortable, yet you try to hold the displeasure and push yourself up to sit.

The first thing you notice as you look around is the way your skirt is splayed widely on the ground. A stark white that glows like moonlight against the dark void that forms the solid ground beneath you which seemed to have manifested out of the darkness.

The wall of incandescent water is now gone. Only the darkness remains, blending into the midnight-coloured ground going as far as your eyes can see.

Confusion plagues you. Instead of feeling any hint of fear, you feel somewhat serene. As if the shadow around you has not only swallowed down all the lights, but also your frazzled thoughts.

And yet your senses are clear. Enough to allow you to see it when the light suddenly appears amongst the endless layer of shadow around you.

Just like the wall of water which accompanies your fall, this light is filled with tiny sparks, floating in the air like little stars you see in the night sky. Slowly, you begin crawling towards it, worrying that your legs would fail you should you dare to try and rise on your feet.

From up close, you can see clearly that the sparkle of lights is, in fact, not actual stars. They are simply fractures of light filtering through small apertures formed between and around an iron plate that seems to have manifested on the center of the midnight-coloured ground.

Leaning down, you try to take a peek into where the lights are coming from. Except that the opening is too small for you to see anything clearly. Still, you can hear sounds—steady murmurs with sometimes a few indiscernible shouts echoing through the unseen space beneath you, rapid footsteps and rustles of hard materials crossing the opposite side of the ground, an irregular current of rumbling and wheels that sound larger and heavier than the wheels of horse carriages that you are most accustomed to hearing, and loud horns blaring from every corner.

Feeling hope clawing in your chest that you may find your exit beyond this iron plate, you sit back up and begin tracing the edges, looking for something to hold. A touch of a small gap on the outer rim of the plate tells you where to place a grip. With the tips of your fingers, you gently press and slip them into the gap, hoping that you can pry it open.

It takes some effort, but you finally manage to slide the heavy iron plate aside. A strong breeze immediately filters through the opening. A breeze that feels nothing like what you remember back home.

It feels warm, but with barely a hint of the fresh air filled with the scent of pine and clear water that you are accustomed to. Instead, the air feels dry, mixed in with smoke and dust and a tad smell of must which makes your throat grow tight and you find it hard to breathe. Coughing up, you suddenly feel as if the ground beneath you is tilting over, your body being pulled into the opening by invisible threads. The force is so strong that you cannot fight it, unable to stop your body from submerging into the hole.

Or, in this case, emerge.

Because the moment you open your eyes again, you are pulling yourself out of the opening. The world on the other side of the hole seems to be inverted, everything held upside down with gravity pulling you down in the wrong direction. What you had thought to be the bottom turns out to be a bright sky, the sunlight shining so brightly that it hurts your eyes.

Your legs are trembling when you step out of the hole, your heels almost slipping on the hard ground that is lighter than the ground where you had landed on from your fall, the surface uneven and rugged.

Your body feels stilted as it defies gravity, and it takes some time before you can finally regain your bearings. A struggle made by being instantly overwhelmed with a myriad of sensations coming over you—the air that feels too warm and the sunlight that seems too bright after being stuck in the dark for a long while, the loud noises reverberating in the space around you, and the rush that seems to be happening everywhere you look.

Where—where am I? What is this place?

Shaking your head, you wonder if you are simply imagining things or perhaps you are dreaming. Because this place looks nothing like Andalasia.

The road where you are standing isn’t made of cobblestones and gravel. Instead of trees, you see buildings in various shapes, sizes, and colours. Buildings that seem taller than Castle Andalasia and its towers or even the enigmatic witch tower you had once seen during your trip across the woodlands.

Some of these buildings are even sparkling under the sunlight, as if they are enchanted with spells and light magic in various colours. With crystals that are covering half of their bodies and lights illuminating even under the bright sun. Lights that appear like stars and rainbows glitter onto the streets below, flashing luminous colours onto the people passing by as if they are blessed with magic.

And there are so many people around you—walking up and down the road, across the street. Some are rushing in quick footsteps, while others are walking leisurely as they admire the buildings and the bright, colourful lights glimmering from around them. Many are dressed funnily, with only a few wearing dresses and suits like the townspeople of Andalasia who you often met when you were with your grandmother tending her shop downtown.

But most baffling is the sight of numerous carriages appearing in odd shapes and various flashy colours, all seeming to have been crafted with metal, driving up and down the main road without a single sight of horses pulling them. You watch as some of those metal carriages are stuck before turning to a different road, and the sound of the horns you heard earlier starts blaring all around you.

What are those things? What kind of magic exists here?

“Excuse me, Ma’am? You’re not allowed to be here.”

A deep voice startles you, drawing a squeal out of your lips. Turning around, you see four men coming towards you. Four large men, all of them wearing similar clothing. Chest coverings in the shade of tangerine and sunflowers which look like those vests that knights would wear under their armours, only thinner and frail, barely a protection against threats. And just like some knights you once saw patrolling across the rise around Castle Andalasia, the men are wearing helmets that reflect the sunlight. Except they don’t protect the men’s faces the way they should have, making you wonder if they might be a different type of knights which you had never met before.

“Ma’am?” One of the men calls out when you fail to answer. But it isn’t his voice that snaps you out of your stunned silence. It is how the man is leaning close to you, looking at you with an odd look on his face—as if you are some kind of a wild creature coming from the forest.

“I beg your pardon?” Your voice comes out thin. Nearly indiscernible among the loud noises coming from all around you.

This seems to surprise the strange man as his gaze softens. So does his voice when he points at what appears to be a line of makeshift fence bordering all around you from the busy road. “This spot is closed. See? We’re doing some work in here and you’re in our way.”

You frantically gaze around, scrutinizing the small things you have failed to take notice of before. Everything is still so confusing and you only end up feeling more lost than ever. Seems like you had emerged in the middle of the road. The metal carriages are driving around you, avoiding the area bordered by the fences circling the spot where you and these men are standing. And it seems that you have garnered some attention, as you watch some people passing by turning to look.

Another man steps closer while looking wary. “Is there a problem, Miss? Why are you in the middle of the road?”

“Oh, um—” Taking a deep breath, you muster calmness before looking back at the men again. “Forgive me, Sir. It appears that I have gotten myself lost. Can you please show me the way to return to Andalasia? I must go back before it’s too late. The ceremony should’ve already started by now but here I am, still—”

“Are you lost, Miss? Are you talking about the ceremony that’s happening today?” A different man takes over this time. Unlike the others, he seems to be more even-tempered, calmer as he speaks, and he isn’t treating you as if you a wild thing to be wary of.

A sigh of relief escapes you as you turn to the third man, finding solace in his presence. “Yes, there’s a ceremony that I must attend, and it’s—”

You suddenly find it hard to continue, unable to openly share your concerns.

How ridiculous does it sound? The bride, losing her way to her own wedding?

You clear your throat and force a smile. “You see, I wasn’t sure where to go with no one to guide me and I suppose I took too many turns to get to the venue that I lost my way.” The words come out of you rapidly in a rush before you can stop them, while the men start looking at each other.

“What ceremony are you talking about?” The first man whispers to the friendly one that you are talking to.

“There’s a party thing going on the block over. Saw guests coming in dressed up in designer dresses and suits earlier like one of those award things. Much fancier than what she’s wearing,” the third man answers as he points at your wedding dress.

Joy bursts through your chest at his words. Elegant dresses and suits fancier than your handmade dress can only mean one thing. Surely, he is talking about the nobbles who were invited by the Queen to attend your wedding with the Prince.

The nicer man of the three looks at you again with a rueful smile. “It isn’t far from here. Do you see those black vans over there? The ones heading down that street?” He points out across the street, where the congested road of metal carriages appears. “Just follow them and you’ll find the venue around the corner. You won’t miss it with all the crowd and paparazzi lining up at the front.”

You have no idea what some of the words he is telling you mean, yet you barely waste any time considering it when your gaze lands on a group of dark-coloured metal carriages driving past the blockage, drawing attention from the crowd surrounding them.

Clasping your hands together, you turn to the man and thank him with a bow. “Then I must not waste more time and make haste. Thank you for your help. It’s so kind of you.”

“Uh, yeah—anytime,” the kind man murmurs absently as he watches you gather your flowy skirt and gracefully turn away to start trudging across the street, following his guide. Barely acknowledging his response when you have your mind busy wondering about those dark carriages and the crowd of people who are watching them go.

Are those some sort of magic carriages coming for the guests?

You find this peculiar, yet pleasantly surprising, as the last time you spoke to the Prince, he spoke about not feeling sure about having many guests attending the wedding ceremony.

“Queen Mother might get anxious about the wedding being so rushed. You wouldn’t mind keeping it small, do you? Mother would be able to use magic to announce the wedding to our neighbouring kingdoms and send out invitations, yet who knows how many would be able to travel to Andalasia on such short notice.”

You still remember that moment—the gentle sway of the horse that the Prince led to walk slower towards your home, the strands of his hair that kept flickering with the breeze, and the flutter rising inside your chest.

You sighed into his embrace, still finding it hard to believe that it wasn’t a dream. That you were talking with the Prince about your wedding. “I don’t mind. As long as we’re together.”

Prince Jungkook laughed softly then. “You make me want to rush the wedding further, Princess.”

The warmth that you felt that day returns just as you remember his smile. So does the flutter in your chest as you think about returning to the Prince so you can marry him. Just as planned. You are lost in the depth of your thoughts as you turn away from the burly men, reminiscing the past that had just ended a day ago—more or less.

A day that feels like forever as you tread carefully down the road, avoiding the carriages that are speeding across and around you, horns and shouts blowing in the air as they drive past by.

Everything seems like a white noise, regardless of how foreign the sounds are to you. They all drown even the loud voices of the burly men that you are leaving behind as they are calling out to you from behind.

“Wait, is she walking? In that dress?” One of the construction workers who had first approached you at the site shouts behind you, baffled as he realises that you are going on foot towards the venue for the movie premier mentioned by his colleague. “Hey, you might want to get an Uber, Miss!”

“Let her be. She’ll probably get there faster than riding a car with all this traffic,” the only oldest one from the group who didn’t make an effort to speak to you comments from the side, already busy continuing the work that he left behind to grab a bit for lunch earlier.

The worker who felt sorry enough to help you ponders over his friend’s comment for a moment as he watches you disappearing among the crowd. “Yeah, you're probably right.” he finally says after pushing down the unease boiling inside him. “Did anyone see where she came from?”

“She was already standing there when I got here,” says the first worker who came back to the renovation site to find you first. He is just about to say something when he suddenly stumbles, barely catching himself from falling when one of his feet slips down into an opening that he failed to notice when he first came in.

“What the fuck—” he curses under his breath once he realises what had almost made him fall over. “Hey, who opened the goddamn sewer? I could’ve broken my neck!”

How long has it been?

How far have I been walking?

Speech has long left you. Your thoughts are barely coherent as time continues to pass by without fail, and you are still out here, stranded in the middle of a city that you cannot recognise as a part of your home.

Home feels so far away.

Especially now that you are starting to believe that you are no longer in Andalasia. Nowhere near enough, that is quite for sure, as there is nothing about this place that comes close to anything that you would normally find back home.

Hours must have passed since you’ve fallen through the fountain and then emerged in this strange place. Wherever this place is. Hours of walking and getting lost in a giant maze that was way more complex and bewildering than the maze of hedges back in the castle.

Hours have definitely passed since you looked up to the sky to see the bright sunlight. Warm as it was after having drowned in the cold shadow that brought you here.

Was it really hours ago when you spoke to those burly men on the road? You wonder to yourself as you look up at the sky, the colours are slowly changing, the white and stark blue in the sky turning warmer as the sun continues to glide lower into the horizon, under the tall buildings that look larger than guard towers.

The place that the kind man had informed you about hadn’t been a part of the castle. Not at all a part of a royal wedding. But your wishful thinking made you believe that you may have gotten through a different entrance gate leading back to the castle when you saw the glorious sight of noblewomen and noblemen walking down a red carpet into what seemed to be some sort of a ball.

The dresses you saw were captivating, more stunning than the dresses you saw worn by the ladies of Andalasia. The men wore breathtaking suits, with colours brighter than what you had ever seen before. Some were even adorned with rare jewels that glowed under the lights as the men walked down the same path covered in red carpet.

You were so enthralled by the sight of them that you didn’t realise being lured to follow them. Stepping closer only led you to be pulled in, drawn into the line of nobbles walking into the venue.

There were also the forces around you which kept pushing you to them—the crowd of people outside of the venue that seemed to be admiring the stunning nobles entering the venue, the flashing lights coming from every corner, blinding your eyes that you couldn’t see where you were being pulled into, and the guards in suits who kept yelling at you to “Keep moving!”

It wasn’t until you were at the door that it was finally made clear to you that you were at the wrong place.

“An—invitation?” You stood by one of the guards who eventually stopped you from going further, baffled when you were suddenly asked for an invitation.

An invitation, to your own wedding?

“Yes, you’re here for the premiere, aren’t you? We need to see your invitation.”

“I’m not—” you looked around, panicked. Your voice weakened when you murmured defeatedly, “I’m supposed to be at the wedding.”

There was something in the guard’s eyes that made your chest clench. A look of pity that you had only once seen from your grandmother when you came home late at night after playing out in the forest too long.

“This is an invitation-only event, so I’m afraid you’re at the wrong place, Miss.” The man turned to another guard then and said something about helping you find an exit without having to go back through the crowd. Yet you barely paid attention to any of it, too distraught about getting stuck at the wrong place when you were running out of time.

“Excuse me, Sir. Can you please show me the direction to Castle Andalasia?”

You tried to ask the guard as he was pushing you out of the exit, who no longer had his attention on you as commotion suddenly started rising from where you first came in. “Keep moving, Miss. You shouldn’t be the way,” he only said before rushing away, leaving you lost and clueless at the exit.

Shaking your head, you try to shut down your thoughts, pushing away the uneasiness that is haunting you and start paying more attention to your surroundings.

You cannot remember half of the journey that took you here after leaving that place. Nothing but a blur of faces and movements, being pushed around amongst the crowd of people and getting too close to danger when you had to dodge the metal carriages rushing through the streets.

The only thing reminding you of how far you have travelled through the city to find your way home is the soreness growing on your legs, the blisters you feel forming on your skin from wearing your heels for too long, and there is no doubt your updo is falling apart, held up merely by the pins from the tiara on your head.

Thinking about your tiara makes you think about your forest friends. You lift your hand to brush against the jewels, reminiscing the sweet moment when your friends helped pin the tiara on top of your head before sending you off for the wedding.

“Oh, my precious angels. I hope you’re all safe,” you whisper, choking with a sob. You wonder where they are, and wonder if they ever got to the wedding spot safely and met the Prince. They must be worried, once they realised you weren’t at the venue when they got there.

Picturing their voices saddens you. You miss their cheerful chitters and squeaks, the little teases they often throw at you just to make you smile. You wrap your arms around yourself as you think about them, wishing that they were here with you instead. How different this would have been if you had them around. Their presence would have been wonderful. Even if they would be just as lot as you are now, at least they could have cheered you up so you wouldn’t lose hope.

Any sliver of hope you had to find your way home was fairly lost some time ago. Even so, you refuse to give up. You cannot give up. It would have been silly for you to simply give up and stop looking for your way home. You are merely lost. The only thing you need is to find the right road to take, and perhaps the right person who would be willing to help you.

Sighing, you feel your hope dwindling even more as you think about finding help.

The people here—they aren’t kind.

Apart from the burly men dressed in bright-coloured vests and oddly shaped knight helmets you met when you first arrived in this strange place, you have yet to find anyone else willing to help, much less to look your way.

Well, some did. Though not all were interested enough to help, quite a few seemed to make a mockery of your wedding dress or were curious about why you were wearing such a dress in the middle of the city. At least, there were a rare few that tried to help you. At least, you want to believe that they meant well, even when they seemed confused.

“Excuse me, could you please show me the direction to Castle Andalasia, please?”

“Excuse me—”

You remember asking, questioning the people you passed by until your voice nearly grew hoarse. And you remember how often you were met with suspicious glances, and wary gazes, before some of the worn doubts faded and they all tried to point you in various directions to go.

“A wedding? I heard wedding bells from the chapel across that garden. That must be where you’re heading?” said one lady with streaks of grey in her hair and a hint of caution in her eyes.

You nearly ran across the garden that she pointed towards, not even sparing a glance to admire its beauty until you reached a chapel. A place where an actual wedding was happening, only that it wasn’t yours, and you had only stayed for a minute to watch the bride and groom walking down the staircase after sharing their true love’s kiss.

And then there were those other people who seemed awfully confused with your question when you asked for directions that they spoke with words that had no meaning for you.

“Castle? What castle you said? This isn’t England, lady.”

“Is that a new ride in Universal Studio?”

“No, I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Is she talking about a movie set? Just point her to the studio. Seems to be wearing the wrong period dress, though.”

You have lost count of how many places you’ve been to in the day, none of which turned out to be anything close to the castle. How many times you were turned away from buildings and gated properties after following the directions that you were given? How it had only led you to become even more lost, not knowing which way to go?

And then when you were not being turned away from one direction to the next through those vain instructions, you kept finding yourself being thrust and propelled to a myriad of courses without having any control or sense way to go. It kept going on for a while, until you finally managed to escape, leaving the crowded streets and the busy part of the city behind.

The road you took to leave the bustling place you’ve been to still bears no sign of it leading towards Andalasia. But at least it is quieter here than the roads you travelled across before.

The bright and flashy buildings you saw earlier have grown less and less the more you go. Some still look as menacing as the towers of the evil witches of Andalasia, others are standing strong like fortresses with giant luminous paintings attached to their walls. But they grow more scarce as you continue walking, finding more gates and long, unending walls, and trees which stand like massive pillars pointing up to the sky.

The roads that you have seen so far are wider, longer, all filled with those carriages—most of them in similar sizes, some bigger than most, and there was one which appeared like a giant animal strolling down the road—without horses pulling them forward. The surface is smoother than the gravel-coloured roads winding down between the towns and villages of Andalasia, all painted in a darker shade of colour than the cobblestone roads you saw around the castle.

As you continue walking, you keep hoping that the roads will suddenly change. To grow smaller in size and change shapes so you can follow them to find your way back to Andalasia.

And yet, just like how fate hasn’t been on your side today, there is no such luck.

Your head is pounding. You cannot remember when was the last time you ate or drank anything. You had been so nervous about your wedding that you could barely swallow anything at breakfast.

Now it seems that the day is growing darker. Time seems to flow faster here than how you remember it back home. The temperature has also dropped. It happened so suddenly that it almost felt like you were once again transported to another place in time. Without having to fall into a fountain this time.

Hugging yourself isn’t doing much to eliminate the cold, and you begin to regret not listening to your grandmother about covering your dress with a coat when you left home this morning. And your dress is getting heavier the more exhausted you feel. The skirt is dragging by your feet and the hems have gotten soiled after walking so long.

Rounding the corner, you see a line of benches on the side of the road. Before you realise it, you quicken your pace, desperate to rest even for a moment.

“Oh, this is great,” you whisper with a sigh of relief once you are rested on the bench. Leaning back, you rest your sore back and shoulders, before stretching out your sore legs. You can feel your muscles growing lax. Even if you are still feeling down in the dumps, drowsiness easily sets in.

But right before you can allow sleep to take over, you blink your eyes open to the creaking sound of wheels and look up across the street. And then you see her. Covered from head to toe in a dark-coloured cloak, the familiar figure that you saw just hours ago is walking on the other side of the road. Hunched down, the hood of her cloak covers the top of her head but not enough to hide her from sight, and she is focusing more on pushing the metal cart that she has with her to notice you watching.

The old hag.

“You—! Wait a moment!” You push yourself up. Getting your legs to start working again is a struggle that you nearly slip on the pavement before you manage to run across the street, catching up to the cloaked figure right before she disappears around the corner. “Please, I have no idea what happened, but you need to bring me back to the castle before—”

Desperate, you reach out to grab her, to get her to listen, and the cloaked old had abruptly turns to snap at you. “Hey, don’t touch me! What’s your fucking problem?”

You step back, flinching at the hostility and the stench. “I—” Your words die down when her hood falls back, revealing her true features. Immediately, you can see that you have made a mistake.

The person before you has a tangled mass of darker hair in the colour of chestnut, with only a few strands of grey and silver appearing from the top of her head, unlike the elder woman you met at the royal garden with silver-moon hair framing her face. From up close, it clears that her cloak is tattered and stained in various places, unlike the old hag’s velvety cloak which appeared slightly fancier despite looking worn out and old. And while this person’s face seems to have been roughened with time, with lines and scars appearing around her eyes and lips, she still looks much younger than the person you have been seeking since you met her last.

Disappointed, you can feel the strains of hope you felt leaving your body. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

The person scowls, giving you a look that reminds you too much of the troll who attacked you the previous day that you wince back. “I should sue you,” she says, her voice lowering to a snarl.

“What—?”

The hooded woman sneers, showing you her stained, crooked teeth when she chuckles. “Yeah, I’m suing for harassment. I was just walking and minding my own business when you’re trying to mug me.”

You watch in horror as she points at the pile of things filling up her metal cart, accusing you of thievery. “No, I wasn’t! I told you that I’m sorry—”

The peculiar woman scoffs, yet her eyes still narrow with suspicions. “All right, fine. Then pay up and I ain’t calling the cops.”

“I’m—sorry?”

Once again, the woman snarls at you. She pushes her hand at you, palms facing up. “Pay up, hon. Give me some cash. I know you have some with you.”

The woman, looking awfully wicked as she smiles at you, scares you so much that you cannot stop yourself from stepping back to avoid her calloused and cracked hand. “But I don’t have any money. No coins. Anything,” you nearly beg her as you grab a hold of your flowy skirt, clenching it tightly to stop your hands from trembling.

The wicked smile on the woman’s face immediately turns to a frown. “What? You’re telling me you’re dressed all fancy and you got no cash with you?”

The sharpness in her voice terrifies you. So much so that your hands are no longer the only ones trembling in fear. Your whole body freezes, and your legs start to grow weak as you take another step away from her. Another move and the woman’s gaze moves upward, stopping at your tiara.

Her sneer returns. “Guess this will do.”

Her eyes, which appeared pale and dim blue when you first saw her, now begin to glint with a new light. Piercing blue eyes glow under the streetlights as if she is using some kind of magic, distracting you for a brief moment as she suddenly raises her hands to grab your tiara.

“Wait! No!” You flinch backwards, trying to escape. You let go of your grip on your dress to stop her, but it’s too late. Her grip strengthens on your tiara and she begins to pull. “Don’t do that! Stop!”

For someone who seems so weathered, the woman is strong. Much stronger compared to your weary self who can barely fight back. With a strong tug, she manages to pull your tiara off of your head, pulling a few strands of your hair with it, while the force she uses pushes you backwards until you fall into a heap of mess—your bottom hitting hard onto the pavement that you can feel your skin bruising underneath, your skirt spreading all around you, catching dirt and soil, while your frail legs are bent beneath your weight.

“Now this looks nice. I bet I can trade this for some cash,” the woman muses with a wicked chuckle as she turns the tiara back and forth in her hand, giving it a closer look. The glint in her eyes seems to glow brighter, drawing an eerie shudder through your body. She looks at you with the same sneer that she’s been wearing when she says, “Thanks, doll.”

You feel powerless. Too shocked and afraid to move, yet you make another effort to beg her as she turns to leave.

“No, please don’t take it away! That’s from my—”

Yet your plea falls on unhearing ears. Before you can muster any strength to push yourself up, she quickly disappears around the corner where it seems to be darker than the streets around you, moving too quickly for your muddled brain to process.

Your final resolve crumples, sending you back to the ground as you fall on your knees once again. Speechless, you can only look on towards the shadows where the wicked woman had disappeared to with your thoughts running wild.

A witch.

There is no doubt about it. That woman was an evil witch. Cold shivers run down your body as fear engulfs you. Wherever this place is, you need to get away as soon as possible. Get away from danger. A place where witches reside cannot be safe. Not for you.

With trembling hands, you reach up to touch your hair, now left as nothing more but a tangled mess after the witch pulled your tiara off of your head. Your eyes feel hot, and you wonder if it has something to do with a spell that the witch has left you with in her escape.

But you cannot even dwell on it or think too deeply about it. The heartbreak that you feel in your chest has become too much. Your heart breaks thinking about your forest friends, how disappointed they would be once they find out that you have lost the wedding gift that they had prepared for you.

But what breaks your heart the most is realising that you can no longer go to your dream wedding looking as pristine as you had initially intended. To be the perfect bride deserving to be standing on the Prince’s side as you finally share your true love’s kiss.

As your dream shatters to dust, everything you have inside you begins to wane into nothing. Not even your dwindling hope can spark your heart and spirit back alight without any sign of things going back to the way it was supposed to.

“Oh, dear me. What am I going to do now?”

The pitter-patter sound of raindrops falling on the moving car has never felt so soothing.

But perhaps this is something that Seokjin needs at the moment, even if it is only to help calm his mind.

Normally, he wouldn’t have any problem finding calmness once the day has ended. But the day hasn’t been going well for Seokjin.

The mediation meet-up which had kept him in a bind all afternoon is still stuck in his mind, still weighing him down even as hours have passed. He feels like he can still hear his clients’ voices echoing in his head whenever there is silence or when he closes his eyes, always arguing about the same old thing—over and over again.

Always going in circles without fail, with no solution made, and with no party involved ever willing to back down. And every time the memory comes, he can hear his boss’ voice—one of the partners leading the law firm where he works at—advising him to quickly solve the issue and move on to the next case.

He feels drained and spent just thinking about it again, and he is already dreading the thought of having to deal with them again tomorrow, their last meeting was left with some unfinished business that still needs to be resolved. But it wasn’t like he had any other choice about how he left things behind. He did have to cut the meeting short, lest he wanted to stay all night at the office, being confined in the same room with those same clients.

And he did have something more urgent to get to.

His daughter’s dance recital.

Looking up from his phone, Seokjin turns to his baby girl. A smile voluntarily makes its way to his face as he watches her humming to herself, replacing the scowl that he has been wearing almost all evening.

“You look scary, Daddy,” Ah-ri had said to him the first time he came to pick her up this late afternoon to help her get ready for her recital, wearing that same scowl on his face. Those simple words had worked like a charm, reminding him to leave all the stress and troubles behind whenever he was spending his time with his little girl.

“Sorry, Princess. Just a little tired from work, but I’m excited to see you dance,” Seokjin had said in return, showing a smile instead of a frown, drawing Ah-ri’s own smile and her excitement back on.

Seokjin is quite relieved that he made it to the event on time, and had even made it to stick with her before so he could calm her nerves before she got on stage. Being there for Ah-ri for her performance had become the perfect reprieve that Seokjin had needed the most. It was the perfect escape from the troubles that had been haunting him, and watching her shine on the stage had helped him forget about the noises and the dreadful thoughts over the case that he was dealing with all day.

And his daughter was magnificent. He might be biased, but Seokjin believes his little girl was the best dancer to perform tonight. He was so proud of her that he was beaming with pride by the time he walked out of the venue with Ah-ri by his side.

The only thing stopping him from carrying his little princess and parading him among the other parents there had come to the show was her fancy tutu dress. The girl had been so proud of her dancing costume that he knew she wouldn’t have allowed him to do anything to ruin the delicate ruffles that she spent hours making sure would flare prettily when she was dancing.

If only the night’s event hadn’t highlighted another problem that was lying in wait for Seokjin to take notice of.

Once again, his eyes return to the phone in his hand.

At the screen that has gone unchanging over the past few hours. The texts that were left unanswered, ignored, and most undeniably, unread.

‘Where are you?’

‘Why are you not picking up the phone?’

‘I thought you said you wanted to come to Ari’s recital? The show’s about to start in 10 minutes.’

‘I’m not going to wait for you. I’m going in. It’s starting and I have the ticket with me.’

Reading through the messages makes him cringe. He never thought that he would turn out to be that kind of person. The kind of partner that would bombard their other half with texts when there had been no news from them.

But this was Ah-ri’s big day. And when it comes to his daughter’s happiness and joy, Seokjin will always be willing to put aside his ego. Even at the risk of fracturing the fragile relationship that he has built with Kira for the past few years.

Seokjin exhales a deep, resigned sigh as he recalls seeing Ah-ri’s hollow gaze the moment she first realised that he had come alone. A part of him was convinced that she was just as disappointed as he was for his girlfriend’s absence, but there was a small voice in his head telling him that the little girl had never harboured any hope that Kira was ever going to come.

And that only makes him feel even worse.

“Are you still busy with work, Daddy?” Ah-ri asks him with a small voice. When Seokjin turns to look a this little girl and sees the pout forming on her lips, he knows he’s messing up the mood.

Forcing his frown away, he smiles at his baby girl and ruffles her hair teasingly. “No, honey. Daddy’s just reading some texts that came in while you were dancing. I was so happy to see you up on the stage and was so busy taking videos of you that there were some messages I missed.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, nodding, and Seokjin has to bite back a smile. Sometimes, she can look like she’s trying to act like a big girl when she does this. At least she’s no longer pouting. “But you’re not working again tonight, are you?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course, not. No more work tonight. Didn’t we promise to read some storybook tonight?”

Reminded of his promise, and perhaps already thinking about her Daddy sticking around to read her favourite stories before bedtime, her smile grows so wide that Seokjin’s chest expands with warmth. “That’s right. We did,” she says, a bit more cheerfully this time.

“Let Daddy read some of the missed texts while there’s a chance to, okay? You should rest until we’re home,” he says, to which the little girl nods her head again.

“Okay,” she muses, and her attention is quickly drawn towards the car window. “The rain is stopping.”

Seokjin looks up and nods. “Oh, you’re right. Good thing that we’re almost home so we don’t have to be wet,” he murmurs with a grim smile.

Funny weather today, he wonders, as he thinks about the rain.

The sudden drizzle that came right when they were leaving the venue only added today’s peculiarity. It was a relief that Seokjin—who was too exhausted after work to drive his own car—had the mind of ordering an Uber for them before they got all wet. And now there is nothing that he wants more than to get home, get warm and comfy, and rest for the night.

As Ah-ri begins singing the song that she was dancing to in her performance, Seokjin finds himself drawn back to his damn phone. For a brief moment, he starts debating whether he should send another message, before realising that he might sound desperate, or perhaps seen like an obsessed stalker.

I’m too tired to deal with this, he wonders with a sigh as he locks his phone and then puts the thing away as he leans back in the seat. He takes this moment to close his eyes and stop himself from overthinking so he can relax.

A moment passes, when the Uber turns into the usual route heading towards his home—one that he has gone through so many times he can recognise it even without looking—and Ah-ri’s soft humming suddenly fades. The car pulls to a halt at a stop sign, allowing another vehicle through, as Ah-ri starts nudging at her Dad.

“Daddy, there’s a princess on the billboard.”

Seokjin hums. “A what?”

“A princess!” Ah-ri excitedly cheers.

“There’s no princess, sweetheart. They make realistic advertisements nowadays that make pictures look more real. You know, like those 3D billboards I showed you once with the characters jumping out into the crowd, remember?”

“No, Daddy. It’s a real princess!” Ah-ri stubbornly starts shouting as the car shifts to move again, “No, mister! Stop! Don’t go!”

Seokjin opens his eyes when the car jerks, the driver hitting the brakes out of shock. He still has his eyes on the front of the car that he isn’t ready when Ah-ri suddenly unlocks her side of the door and jumps out.

“What the—”

“Sir, your daughter—”

“Yes, I know. I’m so sorry about this. Can you please wait for a minute?”

Seokjin already has one foot out the door when the driver swiftly responds, “Sure, I’ll park the car and get out of the road first.”

“Thank you!” Shutting the door behind him, Seokjin looks across the road, his heart nearly dropping when he sees Ah-ri already halfway there. Breathless and mind-filled with fear, he chases his daughter, calling her out and quickly grabbing her shoulders once he catches up with her. “Ari, what are you doing? Get back in the car!”

“No, Daddy. Look, there’s a princess up there!” she stubbornly fights against him while pointing up above.

“That’s not real, honey. Look, see? It’s nothing but—holy shit!”

Seokjin didn’t know what to expect when he looked up, following where Ah-ri was pointing at. Maybe a part of him did expect to see those modern types of billboards with the 3D effects where the characters were made to reach out of the screen—which was what he had in mind when he mentioned it to his daughter earlier—even though he has no clue why anyone would put such a modernised advertisement on a quiet road like this one, where there are only old, low-level apartments in the neighbourhood.

But the moment he looks up, all he sees is a billboard in the form of a 3D castle promoting a new live-action movie based on a children's fairytale story releasing on an online streaming channel this month. He has seen it a few times whenever he was driving down this road on his way to work, and he knows for sure that it never had any additional feature put up with it.

And somehow, he sees a woman wearing a white dress standing in front of the replica of the castle from the movie. Doing God knows what. With heels that cannot possibly steady enough to help her balance on the small ledge she is standing on.

Is she actually knocking at the castle’s door right now?

“See, Daddy? It’s a real princess!” Ah-ri starts shouting excitedly, pointing at the woman on the billboard before she realises, “Daddy, you said a bad word.”

Clearing his throat, Seokjin gently presses his hand on his daughter’s back to guide her back to the car. “Sweetheart, go back in the car. Let me deal with this and get back to you, okay?”

He can feel that Ah-ri is holding back, refusing to leave. The girl has always loved her princess stories and this situation isn’t helping. Seokjin takes one look over his shoulder, noticing that the Uber driver has moved the car to this side of the road, so his daughter wouldn’t have to run across.

The driver steps out of the car, gently calling out, “You want me to call the cops, sir?”

Ah-ri’s eyes immediately grow wide in panic, so Seokjin quickly waves his hand. “I don’t think that’s necessary for now. Please help my kid back to the car, will you?”

Seeing the driver stepping up to help watch his daughter, keeping her at a safe distance, Seokjin cautiously approaches the billboard to try and talk the odd woman—whom his daughter keeps calling ‘a princess’—down from that slippery ledge.

“Excuse me!” he calls out, though he is doing his best to keep calm, not wanting to startle or frighten her with his voice, when all he wants is to make sure that he can help before things get awry. “Hello? Miss? What are you doing? Is everything okay?”

Despite his effort, the woman—you—is still startled at the sound of his voice. Seokjin only realises that the white dress is a wedding dress when you turn—too sharply, which causes Seokjin to flinch—and start glancing around before finding him below. Your eyes widen with relief when you see him.

“Oh, oh! Thank goodness. I was wondering if you could—oh!”

Seokjin’s heart drops when he sees you inching forward on the ledge, your eyes looking straight at him instead of paying attention to where you are stepping on, not realising that you have reached the edge.

“Hey, watch it—”

Seokjin tries to warn you, only that he is too late. He doesn’t even think or realise what he is doing. As if on instinct, his body simply moves on its own, drawn towards you just as one of your feet slips over the edge and your body tilts forward before you fall from the staggering height.

Straight into the Seokjin’s waiting arms.

A deep, resounding grunt vibrates from around you. Yet your mind is spinning, still reeling over the series of events that have happened in the course of—a minute? Hour? No, not an hour. Oh, why does it matter?

You close your eyes when your head starts spinning even faster. Thinking hard does not seem to be advisable to do at the moment. Oddly enough, closing your eyes makes you feel slightly better. And it helps that you are surrounded by warmth. The kind of warmth that feels comforting, like a warm hug, accompanied by a delicate yet fresh scent of wood and musk and a hint of something sweet.

Wait. A hug?

Your eyes snap open when you realise that you are, in fact, engulfed by a strong pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around you to keep you from falling to the ground. Confused, you are lost to what is happening. And when you try to look up, your saviour’s face is shrouded by shadows. The light coming from above is too bright, and all you can see is the lines of his face. The short strands of hair falling from his face look like a curtain as he looks down, keeping his eyes on your face, yet it frames his face perfectly.

For a hazy moment, your mind makes you believe that you were once again saved by Prince Jungkook. That he had somehow found you and caught up to get you.

But then you blink, clearing your mind with it, just as your eyes start to adjust to the play of lights. The lines on his face becomes clearer, and then his eyes—the pair of beautiful eyes that are looking at you with fear, concern, and wonder—become visible to yours. And then you quickly realise that the person, your saviour, no matter how good-looking he is, is not the Prince.

The moment everything truly registers through your muddled mind, your eyes grow wide and your body grows rigid, before you start apologising.

“Oh, heavens! I am so sorry,” you gasp aloud, your cheeks burning with shame as you try to push away from the man and stand on your own two legs.

Yet the man’s hold around you is sturdy, and instead of releasing you and letting you fall, he gently lowers you back on your feet. His hands remain on your upper arms for a brief moment to keep you steady before he finally lets go and takes a step back.

“Are you all right? Is everything good?” the stranger begins questioning you, his eyes going down the skirt of your dress as he speaks and then lingers. A crease forms between his eyebrows when he notices the tattered hem of your skirt, and how badly soiled the fabric has gotten. His gaze rises back to your face again as he asks, “Are you hurt somewhere?”

Clutching at your skirt, feeling like you want to hide inside it, you try to recall what had happened. You had gotten quite lost in your confusion and exhaustion and were trying to find any sign that might show you the way home when suddenly, this small castle appeared before your eyes, perched atop some kind of a tower. Thinking that it might have been some piece of a totem, a magical item that might be able to take you home, you climbed on top of the tower to open the gate, only to find that it was locked. Desperate, you began banging on the door, hoping that someone on the other side would hear your call for help and open the door for you so you could come home.

Then you heard a voice. Your prayers were heard. Until you quickly realised that the voice had been coming from under the tower instead of from within the castle.

You were so surprised and so excited to finally see someone again after a long, quiet walk through this darker part of the city that you tried to get closer to him without realising it. When the man began to speak with you, you didn’t realise that you were beginning to inch forward as you responded to him, not noticing that you were stepping towards the end of the ledge until you began tilting and falling over.

You really need to stop falling.

“Are you lost, Miss?” the kind stranger asks you, full of concern, while helping to keep you steady on your feet with his gentle hold on your elbow before you start to fall back. Again.

And the help is completely welcome, as your legs keep failing you. Your exhaustion is giving you a hard time to hold the weight of your wedding dress that has grown soiled and torn in some places. But you cannot find it in you to focus on your tattered dress right now, as the stranger in front of you seems like the light shining bright in the darkness.

A beacon of hope, whose presence alone is enough to eliminate every angst and distress that you have been feeling all day long. And it is enough to bring back your faith in all goodness.

The kind of goodness which reminds you of home.

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you answer him kindly with a smile on your face. You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, there is someone willing to listen and care enough to help you. “I need to find my way back to the castle.”

He stills. Glancing back and forth between you and the small-sized castle standing behind you, he carefully asks, “What castle? And what were you doing up there, endangering yourself? You could’ve hurt someone. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“What do you mean ‘what castle’? Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” A bubbling laughter leaves your lips. “I tried to knock on the front gate, but nobody answered. Maybe because it’s late? But I also have no clue if the totem only answers to a certain spell.” You stop with a deep exhale of breath when you realise that you wouldn’t know of any spell cast on the castle since you are not a royal born.

Shaking your head, you turn to the man again. “Would you please kindly show me the way to get back to the castle, I’ll be more than grateful—”

“Huh, right,” he gently cuts you off with an odd expression on his face. "Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” His eyes flicker briefly to the top of your head, where your tiara used to be. “Do you have your phone? Is there someone you can call, maybe?"

"A phone? What is that?" you ask, and his eyes grow wide, as if you had just said something so staggering it leaves him nearly speechless. "And I don't think anyone will hear me from all the way here if I call them, don't you think?"

"Ookay—" The stranger reaches into his suit jacket as if trying to pull something out of it. “Where is the address? Why don’t I just call you an Uber?”

“Uber?” You tilt your head, confused. You have never heard of the name before. “Is that the name of your horse?” you ask with a soft gasp, recalling that the gentlemen that you have met back in Andalasia tend to name their horses with peculiar names and titles to differentiate them from one another.

Just like how Prince Jungkook named his white steed Onyx—which reminds you of the gemstone similar to the one your grandmother kept in her drawers back home.

A slight pinch of sadness arises inside your chest at the thought of home—of your grandmother, the Prince, and the quaint wooden cabin taking lone residence at the heart of Amaranth Forest. Oh, how wonderful it would have been to be on your comfortable bed, tucked beneath the fuzzy blanket that your grandmother had made for you, and wearing a simpler slip of a dress that would not be pulling down your weight each time you move around.

“But, Daddy—we have an Uber!” A small voice suddenly speaks. You turn to look over behind the stranger to see a little girl popping out of the shadow. Wearing a tutu dress in pink that matches her tiny shoes and feather headpiece, she looks like a little pixie with her cheeks blushing in the cold, almost to the same colours as her fluffy skirt.

“Ari, I told you not to leave the car,” the man gently scolds the little girl while pushing her back.

“Oh, hello sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you greet her with a smile, which seems to make her happy. Because both her eyes and her smile light up almost as bright as the lights flashing from the castle behind you.

“Hello,” the girl shyly greets you back. Her voice is soft when she suddenly asks you, “Are—are you a princess?”

Laughing softly, you bend down a little to get to her height. “Oh, no. I’m not a princess. My name is _______,” you offer your hand as you introduce yourself. “What’s yours?”

The girl glances at the man briefly before taking your hand and gingerly shaking it. “I’m Ah-ri, but I also go by Ari so that my friends won’t have trouble saying my name.”

Smiling, your friends come to mind. You miss listening to them singing your name as they play around with you back home. “My friends also have a special name for me. It’s Blossom.” Your throat feels tight just thinking about them, but you try to push it down. “Which name do you feel comfortable the most with?”

The little girl’s smile widens. “I love it when my close friends, Daddy, and Grandma call me Ari,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear with a shy smile. “You look like a princess.”

Eyes growing wide, it takes you a moment to understand what she means. “Oh, it must be the dress. I mean, it would’ve been even better if I still had my tiara.”

Ah-ri gasps. “You have a tiara?”

Immediately, your heart is filled with sadness as you recall the unfortunate incident with the wicked witch. “Not anymore, I’m afraid. Someone took it from me while I was looking for my way home,” you answer with a sad sigh, your eyes tearing up for the loss of your precious tiara.

Hearing this, your kind saviour’s eyes grow wide. He seems startled and wary, and begins glancing around, pulling the little girl back so he can hold her safely by his side. “You were robbed? Here?” he asks, sounding alarmed.

“Well—” Frowning, you look around as you begin to explain that it had happened a while ago. And not exactly here, wherever here is.

“Fucking hell—” you hear him say with a low tone of voice before you can say anything. You have no idea what he means, but it sounds really bad, as Ah-ri immediately turns to chide him.

“Daddy, you said a bad word.”

At the sound of her voice, the man closes his eyes and murmurs a quick apology. “I’m so sorry. Listen, Honey, you need to get back to the car. I’m going to try and call an Uber for, uh—the nice lady,” he says, pointing at you, while the girl furrows her brows, looking confused.

“With your phone? But we ordered our Uber with that earlier,” she says to her father.

“Damn it, you’re right,” he says in return, quickly stopping to mutter, “Oh, fuck.” The little girl crosses her arms as she glares at her father, who later bends down to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. Fine, let me just find a way to call for help.”

You watch as the man reaches into the inside of his suit—an odd looking suit which seems so simple but quite elegant, without any jewels or golden embroideries or intricately made lining, yet still nice to look at—and pulls out a small black box in his hand which lights up at the touch of his fingers.

“What is that?” You gasp, “Oh, is that a magic talisman?”

The man looks at you with a million questions in his eyes. “A magic—what?”

Seeing that the man carries with him a magic item, no matter how small and simple it seems, you begin to feel hopeful. Finally, you will be able to go home. His magic talisman will be able to lead you back to Andalasia, as long as he says the right spell.

But why does it seem like he doesn’t understand what you are saying, even when he is holding the magic talisman in his hand?

Do they call their magic items with a different names?

“A talisman,” you try to explain the best you can, “It’s a type of magic items that sorcerers and mages would use to conjure their spells. I must admit, I’ve rarely seen them my whole life. Almost never. But I’ve heard stories of witches who use mirrors to communicate with others or see visions from other places to help them predict the future.” You look up at him with hope blooming inside you. “Are you perhaps a mage, or a warlock?”

The man, who has been looking confused the entire time he was listening to you ramble, only seems even more confused. But then he looks down, following your gaze, before asking, “Are you talking about”—the man lifts his hand to show you the square item that he is holding—”this?”

You clap your hands together. “Yes, it’s just like that one. So is it a magic mirror? Did you create a small one to carry with you everywhere you go?”

Ah-ri suddenly gasps. “Oh, I know! Magic mirrors! Just like the evil Queen in Snow White!”

Pressing your palm over your heart, you are overcome with joy as you finally hear a familiar name being mentioned here in the strange land. “You know Snow White too?”

“Yes, I do!” Ah-ri says with a voice filled with joy. She turns to her father, looking as if she wants to share that joy when she says, “Daddy, she knows Snow White!”

The man grimly nods. “Everyone knows Snow White, honey. There are a ton of movies made for the story.”

You tilt your head. “What’s a movie?”

The man seems surprised when he hears you. As if he wasn’t prepared to hear such an odd question. “I’m sorry. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight? Are you staying anywhere nearby?”

Being reminded that you are still lost, the pain inside your chest grows back to its full size. “I, uh—”

Before you can even think of what to say, Ah-ri slips between the two of you and begins tugging and her father’s hand.

“Daddy, the princess needs our help, and the Uber is waiting,” she says, to which her father looks between you, his daughter, and a figure that you only now notice standing on the side of the road, where lights cannot fully reach him, with a black metal carriage parked right beside him.

“Please, Daddy?” Ah-ri asks again, while her father looks conflicted and stunned into a complete silence.

Seokjin closes his eyes and groans, wondering to himself how on earth he managed to get into this situation.

But there really is no escape from it now. The look that his daughter is giving him says so.

“Daddy?” Ah-ri calls out again, pouting, and Seokjin feels powerless against it.

“Okay, baby,” he sighs. “We’ll get the Princess some help. Let me see if we can find a way to get her home. Maybe if we—”

Seokjin looks down on his phone to find a way to get help, maybe call someone from his office, and curses under his breath when the blasted thing beeps, twice, before the screen shuts down. Having to rush from the office gave him no chance to charge his phone before going to Ah-ri’s event, and all the texting he did and checking where the hell his girlfriend was had probably drained its battery.

“Fuck—” he snaps, quickly reeling back when he realises and glancing at Ah-ri. “Sorry, baby.”

Pouting, the little girl crosses her arms over her chest and scolds him gently. “No more bad words, Daddy. It’s not polite to do it in front of the Princess.”

“I know, honey—”

While he is trying his best to keep himself together against the inner battle he is having, everything starts to fall apart at once. Right the moment his cell phone blips its last life, the rain suddenly starts again. No longer the simple drizzle wetting the road around him but a light shower that will no doubt start to pick up within seconds. Drenching them all if they stay here even a minute longer.

“Daddy…it’s raining again!”

Ah-ri’s panicked voice snaps his mind back into gear. Regaining his focus back allows Seokjin to see his daughter trying to cover her head from the rain, but the stubborn girl refuses to run back to the car. He has no doubt that it’s because she is worrying about this odd woman standing in front of them.

Glancing over his shoulder, he sees the Uber driver rushing into his car. Within seconds, the driver begins reversing the car to get closer, as if making sure that they won’t have to run through the rain—again—to get back in the car.

Seokjin looks at you again, still wary about your presence. In his eyes, you are a stranger lost in the big city, with a dress that has been completely ruined and tattered that he cannot imagine you going around on the streets like this when the sun is out. Especially not here in this part of the city.

He had first thought that you might have been drunk, which would explain why you seemed confused and were doing something so dumb. Like knocking at a miniature of a castle that is a part of a billboard ad promoting a movie. But then you kept looking confused and lost to everything that he said.

With no sign of being drunk or delusional, and a reaction that looked almost genuine each time you questioned him about the things you didn’t seem to understand, his heart feels heavy about leaving you be.

The rain picks up, and you seem to be wrapping your arms around yourself tighter. Your body shivers under your soaking dress, and yet your smile doesn’t seem to waver—something that Seokjin isn’t used to seeing from the people that he has ever met before. And he can clearly see how pale you have gotten. The way you are slightly swaying on your feet also worries him. As if you are about to collapse on the street any second now if he doesn’t do something to help.

“Why don’t you come with us,” he says under the rain, surprising both himself and Ah-ri with the offer.

He isn’t the kind of person who would easily offer this kind of help to a random stranger he meets on the street. And yet the moment the words slip out of his lips, he has a feeling that he is doing the right thing.

“It’ll take around ten to fifteen minutes to get to our house, but it will be a lot better than staying out in the rain like this,” he says, mustering a smile even when he still feels hesitant. The thought of taking you—a complete stranger with a situation that is lost on him—back to his home seems unnerving.

But what other choice does he have at the moment?

“Once we’re there, I can lend you some fresh clothes and get you warmed up, and then I’ll try to order another Uber for you. Maybe I can pay the Uber driver taking us home some extra cash to take you to where you want to go. What do you say?”

As it turns out, the driver refuses to accept any money from Seokjin to send you away once he is done with his previous order.

However, that doesn’t mean that the driver simply chooses to immediately leave and not get involved.

“This place isn’t safe for that poor girl when it’s nighttime. If you have enough sense and goodness in you, you best open up your door for the night, at least. I know bad people, and she doesn’t have the looks for it,” the driver says, right after he blatantly said no to Seokjin’s request even when he was offered double the payment he was charged with for his trip home.

“Though I can be wrong, so you keep your baby girl away from her until you’re sure she’s safe to be around,” the driver adds, as he glances over Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin turns to do the same, watching as your back disappears into the side patio, following his little girl who is still chattering about princesses and pretty dresses while guiding you towards the entrance door of your home.

When Seokjin turns back to the driver, he sees the man—who he only realises now to be somewhat older, with greying hair and a wise look in his eyes that helps calm Seokjin—rummaging through the dashboard compartment before handing him a card. “A friend of mine runs a shelter that houses people like her. You can call them up in the morning and get her to stay there if you still can’t find where she lives. They might be able to contact her family.”

Circumstances being as they are, Seokjin decides not to argue with the man and let him drive away, though not before he expresses his gratitude for the advice he was given and the business card in his hand. Seokjin stands at the driveway of his home for a moment longer instead of rushing in, watching the Uber drive away until the taillights fade at the end of the road. He embraces the silence, finding solitude in the lack of sound against the voices inside his head.

Nothing but the sound of the rushing waves hitting the beachside coming from a distance away.

He breathes in the cool night air, wishing that he is somewhere far from this place instead. A different place where the air isn’t so polluted and where he wouldn’t have to worry about stressful client meetings, missing girlfriends, and saving damsels.

Thinking about this makes him want to laugh. It was the same thought that he had years ago which made him decide to buy a property here in the first place; in a neighbourhood closer to the Venice beach instead of at the heart of downtown Los Angeles like many others working in his field would to get closer to work.

He wanted something different, away from the bustling city lifestyle and the traffic, and other things that would have made him feel miserable while still experiencing the best of things from the city. He expected that it would allow him to have some peaceful moments like this whenever he needed it. It was everything that he wished to have when he was cramped up in the studio loft back when he was still living in downtown LA while finishing law school.

And now, he is suddenly looking for something different. Something more. Something that might help silence the chaos happening inside his head.

“Daddy…! You need to open the door!” Ah-ri’s voice echoes from the side patio, and Seokjin quickly brushes his thoughts away.

With a deep inhale of breath, he regains calmness and turns. The business card for the shelter—said to be safe and open for the homeless and women in need of assistance—is now safely secured in his pocket as he walks into his home, joining his chatty girl and the unexpected guest he is welcoming home.

After connecting his phone to its charger in his home office and leaving his daughter in his bedroom, Seokjin makes his way back downstairs to the living room to find you.

He sees you sitting on the settee by the window, looking far out into the night. With your dress spread across the side of the seat and your hair falling loose from the twisted bun, you do look like someone who had just come out of one of his daughter’s storybooks.

Instead of letting you know that he is there, Seokjin stops on the final steps of the staircase, watching you. Mesmerised, he is lost for words.

Because right here, sitting with your eyes looking out the night sky and the lights sparkling across the canal, you seem—peaceful. Unlike before, when you were in complete distress and exhaustion was written all over your face. And for some reason, Seokjin wants to savour this moment. Not knowing the reason why.

But then a soft sound of a sigh, followed by the rise and fall of your chest, breaks the moment, snapping him out of his daze.

Clearing his throat, he makes the rest of his way down and slowly walks up to you. “Hey, there,” he gently says, trying his best not to startle you. A smile comes to his face when you look over with a small, tired smile. “I’m sorry for making you wait. Ari kept trying to talk to me before I could leave her.”

You nod. “It’s fine.” Once again, you glance out the window. From up close, your face seems to light up. The bright lights coming from outside are reflecting on your face. “The view here is lovely.”

“It is,” Seokjin muses, following your gaze, realising only now how rare it has been lately for him to enjoy a serene moment such as this one—the way you are able to find solitude in your darkest hours. “So, um,” he says, shaking his head. “______, was it? Or should I call you Blossom?”

You turn to smile at him again. “Just ______ will be just fine.”

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier with all the frenzies,” he says while mustering a smile. To his relief, he can see your shoulders slumping, growing slightly more relaxed in his presence now compared to earlier, and it’s surprisingly making him feel calmer at the same time.

”My name is Seokjin, but feel free to call me Jin. And as my daughter has cleverly introduced herself earlier, her name is Ah-ri,” he adds, with a deeper smile on his face as he talks about his baby girl. “Or Ari. That’s the nickname that she uses since her mother always calls her that way. Perhaps you can ask her again next time which name she’ll be comfortable for you to call her with.”

“I’ll be sure to ask,” you answer with a warm smile, and it thaws his frozen heart a little bit more when your voice softens at the thought of his daughter.

“Listen. My phone is charging right now,” Seokjin begins to explain as he sits on the ottoman right across from you. Keeping both of his arms resting on his knees, he bends forward, putting on the same mask that he usually wears when he has to sit at the center of a mediation during the toughest cases that he ever had to deal with. “I tried to search on the internet about this place you mentioned earlier, Andalasia, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere. Are you sure you can’t remember where you came from, or how you got here?”

Your brows are furrowed deeply as you slowly shake your head. “Everything seems so fuzzy.”

Seokjin nods his head. “And you have no one to call.”

A wry smile appears on your face as you shrug a little at him. “I told you, it’ll be too far for anyone to hear me.”

Once again, he grimaces, knowing that this is going nowhere. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Seokjin counts to three before speaking again, hoping that he can swallow down his frustration so he can find a way to solve your problem.

Hopefully, before it becomes his.

“Look, my daughter is worried and you looked lost, so I’m not sure if I can let you go out like”—Seokjin releases a sigh—”this.”

He tries hard to hold back his grimace and fails. Yet the smile on your face remains, which only makes him feel more guilty as he watches you, looking like a lost little dove, engulfed in a fancy wedding dress that looks like the ones painted in his daughter’s storybooks.

“We need to work to find a way back to your home. Isn’t that what you want?” he asks, and you eagerly nod your head. “About tonight, do you really have nowhere to stay?”

“No, I—” you begin to answer, “I don’t even know where I am.” Swallowing hard, you look out the window again to look far in the distance. Across the walkway that lines up starting from Seokjin’s house towards the spread of white that is barely visible from this part of the neighbourhood. “That is a beach, right? And beyond is the ocean?”

Seokjin furrows his brows. “Yes, that’s right.”

Nodding, you give him a somber smile. “Our small house is far from the coastline. It would have taken days, maybe weeks to get to the ocean. Perhaps it would have been different if we owned a carriage,” you stop with a soft chuckle before adding, “Or a horse.”

Seokjin raises his brows, realising that you are sharing a little bit of details about your home and where you came from, answering his questions. Only hearing it doesn’t seem to solve anything. Even knowing that you are not from anywhere near the beach shows what a slim chance it would be for you to come from somewhere close to the neighbourhood.

He doubts that you are even from the same city.

“There’s a hotel nearby. It’s good and clean, and not too expensive,” he starts, hoping that he can avoid letting you stay here, regardless of how badly Ah-ri had wanted to let you stay just to make sure you would be safe for the night. But it only takes a moment for him to get a closer look at you and quickly notice that you have no other belongings with you aside from the clothes on your skin. “I don’t suppose you have any money with you?”

“Money?” You ask as your hands reach down, nervously clutching at the skirt of your dress, “Well, uh—” A grim smile comes to your face as you continue, “You see, I was supposed to get married today, and this dress doesn’t really have pockets in it. I also didn’t think about taking a purse with me since I was, you know—my hand would’ve had to hold a bouquet of flowers when I walked down the aisle.”

You suck a deep breath at the implication that your situation had involved a wedding, and Seokjin has no idea why the sound you make pierces straight deeply into his chest. Then you make it worse when you speak with an innocent, helpless voice of yours, “Anyway, you are right, Sir. I don’t have anything with me. I left all my gold coins back home, since I thought I wouldn’t be needing it today with the wedding ceremony and all.”

Again, dread fills his chest. “Gold coins,” he groans under his breath with a grimace. He closes his eyes, trying to find that sense of calmness deep inside him once again before it slips away. “All right. Breathe.”

Seokjin takes a deep breath as he begins thinking, trying to decide what would be the right thing for him to do. Right at that moment, the words given to him by the Uber driver return to him, removing any doubt that he still has about letting you stay. Looking at you, he realises that the man had been right about one thing.

Seokjin may not know or understand what kind of situation you are in, and all the things that you have been saying sound too ludicrous to be true. But each time, you seem genuine. Nothing that you said and done feels like an act to make a fool out of him or filled with nefarious intent.

And he genuinely doesn’t think he has it in his heart to let you go anywhere when you seem so helpless.

“I guess since it’s late anyway and, well—” He grins. “My daughter might get upset if I let you be on your own when you’re, um—confused.” Rising to his feet, he offers you a hand to help you up and says, “We don’t have a lot of guests, so we only have one guest bedroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be adequate for you to have some good rest for the night. What do you say?”

Smiling with relief, you nod and take his hand. “That would be lovely.”

Seokjin feels awkward holding your hand as he guides you upstairs to the guest bedroom. Yet he is glad that he even thought about offering because you keep swaying on your feet as you walk by his side, as if your body is ready to give up anytime soon. By the time he reaches the bedroom, he almost finds it hard to let go of your hand just to be able to open the door for you.

“Here it is. Ah-ri, my daughter, loves to hang out here when I’m not home since it has a good view, so we change the sheets regularly. It’s also clean, and you have easy access to the guest bathroom. It’s also small, but—” He gently explains as he is showing you the room, yet you are too distracted to listen.

Your eyes are no longer on him, but you are looking out the window across the room instead, distracted by the view of the ocean that is more visible from up here. In the night, there is nothing much to see. But the lights coming from the beachside and from the resorts and venues overlooking the ocean are helping you see the rushing waves, even if it is still too far away.

With your attention on the sight before you, you gingerly takes a seat on the small daybed placed by the window, once again getting lost in the view and forgetting Seokjin’s presence.

Shaking his head, Seokjin can only sigh. “Well then, I should, um—” He clears his throat, feeling even more awkward now when you barely pay attention to him, yet pleased that you are able to somehow find some peace here. “I’ll let you rest. Let me check if Ari has found something for you to change into.”

You still have your eyes looking out the window when Seokjin makes a move to leave the room, ready to close the door gently behind him. But before he can escape, you suddenly turn to look at him with a smile. “Thank you, kind Sir. For you and the little princess. This day has been—”

A resigned sigh escapes you. The sound once again pulls at Seokjin’s heartstring that he finds himself completely speechless. But whatever anguish that you have wanes as you lift your gaze at him and smile. “You were the first people to be kind to me. Everyone I met had been—rude, dismissive, and that was before I got my tiara taken away.”

Swallowing his guilt, Seokjin can only nod, feeling solemn. “Welcome to LA,” he says with a bitter chuckle, while you merely tilt your head, looking even more confused that Seokjin can only exhale a deep breath. “I’ll go check on your change of clothes. We can talk more in the morning, once you get some sleep.”

Seokjin’s heart and legs are heavy when he closes the door and walks away. He walks past Ah-ri’s bedroom and walks up another flight of stairs to get to his bedroom, where his daughter is waiting for him to return. Entering the main bedroom, he finds Ah-ri setting up his clean white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the bed.

“Will this be okay for the Princess, Daddy?” she asks once she notices him entering the room.

Nodding, Seokjin reaches out to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Those will be fine. Thank you for getting them for me while I set our guest to her room.”

Beaming at the praise that she has earned from her dad, Ah-ri begins picking up the clothes. “Then let me take them to her—”

Seokjin quickly stops her. “No, sweetheart. You can see her in the morning. I’m sure the lady—I mean, the Princess is tired, and you’ll only ask her too many questions.”

“But, Dad—”

“Let me take it to her while you get ready for bed.”

Ah-ri pouts. “Fine. But be nice to the Princess. Okay, Daddy?”

“Okay, I promise. You sit tight. You’re sleeping here tonight. You said you wanted me to read you before bed, didn’t you?” Seokjin asks, and he feels guilty when Ah-ri beams at him, looking pleased with his promise without knowing that he only wants to keep her away from you. At least for the night.

You may not be suspicious in his eyes after having that last conversation, but that doesn’t mean he is willing to risk his daughter’s safety around a complete stranger that he is hosting in his own home.

It takes a while for Seokjin to help his daughter to get ready for bed. The girl will not stop talking, jumping from one topic to another so quickly that he can barely keep up—from complimenting your dress, regardless of how tattered it looked, and comparing it with her tutu dress, to how adorable her new pyjamas look.

She is in the middle of choosing which storybook she wants him to read by the time Seokjin finally gets the chance to slip away, carrying with him the change of clothes that he had promised you and a fresh towel for you to clean up. He makes a quick stop to the snack bar downstairs to grab a bottle of mineral water and some snacks for you.

But once he finally returns to the guest bedroom, you have already fallen asleep. Taken over by your exhaustion, no doubt, as he finds you lying asleep on the daybed where you were sitting on when he left you, watching the night view of the ocean and the beachside from afar.

Smiling to himself, he takes a moment to admire the way your dress glitter under the dim lighting before deciding that he would just let you be. With careful footsteps, he enters the room, leaving the clothes on the bed that you had taken no notice of and setting the drink and snacks on the bedside table for you to find when you wake up.

Picking up the blanket from the bed, he covers you with it and gently draws the curtains close, fearing that the sunlight will burn you in the morning. He steps away once he is done, closing the door behind him gently as he walks away, letting you drift off to wherever your dream may take you.

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

114 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 11 months

Text

Bright Eyes | 1

Part 2

Prince Aemond's marriage was borne out of necessity and political advantage. Let it never be said that he did not know duty, for duty was what kept Aemond Targaryen grounded. But in truth, the prince felt cheated by the match, for he felt his wife was getting scraps as her dowry. After all, she was chosen for him because of her family's wealth and resources. It was then rather scandalous when the icy prince became temperate to his bride.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, arranged marriage au, smut (virginity loss, vaginal penetration), reluctant lovers ig, typos, etc.

A/N: HIIII THIS IS PART OF THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON BIG BANG CELEBRATION 🎉🎉🎉 I split mine into 3 parts but I can only post the other 2 parts here on Tumblr after the whole event has ended to respect and give way for the other submissions. It will be available on AO3 to read though so yeah! Thank you so much to the love of my life @ewanmitchellcrumbs for making the art for me (and in such short notice too cos my artist unfortunately deactivated their Tumblr). I'm so luv youuuu Also i haven't written anything for hotd in a while so i don't remember who I'm supposed to tag so kejhshs surprise! And enjoy ig!!! HIHIHI

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

"Perhaps," I extend a hand to him, "you ought to hold my hand."

Aemond straightens from where he stood, lone eye darting from his feet, to my hand, to my face. He finds offence in this offer, a line threatens to dig deep between his brows.

"The-" I trail off and look away, my gloved hand, however, does not retreat, "-terrain is quite bumpy." I look back to him expectantly, "I know the land well. It would be easier for me to lead you through-"

"Then lead me," Aemond cuts, both hands going behind him, "skip the fussing."

I purse my lips and watch him for a moment.

The wind strengthens. It blows past me yet I do not move with it, even with my thick dress pulling me back. In contrast, Aemond shuffles in his spot, his coat catching the gush of wind and his hair raking his skin. I had offered to braid Aemond's hair to keep it out of his face and he said he could manage because what was the breeze on a meadow compared to the ripping air at the back of a dragon?

He realizes meadow was too kind a term for this patch of land I was showing him. It was a hellscape, not lush or flowery like a meadow at all. The field stretched out to a cliff, and below it laid viscous waves that added to the horrible weather.

I nod and bring my hands to my skirts instead, "please watch your step. A few more paces, we'll reach the area that has many-"

Aemond grunts when he steps on a hidden divot. His heel digs into the mushy surface and he nearly twists his ankle.

I whip my head back and look at him, finally completing my thought, "-holes in the ground."

He clenches his jaw and yanks his foot out of the muck. I silently turn away and continue walking.

The prince mumbles to himself as he follows me.

Finally, I reach the top of the slope. I situate myself atop a rock and look down at the land. I clasp my hands together as I feel the man walk up beside me. I make it a point to really just let the silence simmer, to let him take in the view, though in truth, there really wasn't much of it. It was just-

"Dirt as far as the eye can see."

I turn to Aemond when he says this.

"How good," he purses his lips and brings his hands behind him, "I've always wanted a hill of dirt all for myself."

I slowly step down from the rock and lift my eyes up to my husband-to-be.

"Vhagar might even like it," he says, lone eye scrutinizing me then the land, which was part of my dowry.

It was the worst pickings from my family, that much was clear. But with my three older brothers set to inherit much of my house's estate, I couldn't really complain, after all, I was the youngest... and a woman.

Aemond, of course, would do the complaining, as he has been.

"I am glad to hear that, my prince," I offer a smile.

The look Aemond gives me is one of astonishment. I can practically make out how his covered eye widened underneath his eye patch. He mutters under his breath, "gods, she's fucking thick."

I pretend I don't hear it and follow after the man when he begins to walk away.

The long haired blonde struggles yet again against the uneven terrain. I no longer make the mistake of offering my assistance. For his sake, or perhaps my own, I leave a good distance between the two of us, so that if he were to topple, even if I did instinctively reach out to him again, he would be too far to reach.

I mirror his steps, right leg moving only after his did. Of course, I did not step in the holes and bumps that were so obvious to me. Still, I tail him diligently.

This was why I froze when he turned back and scowled at me.

"What are you doing?" asks the prince with furrowed brows.

I part my lips, "I-"

"Come here," he reaches out, "I have things to discuss with you."

My eyes turn to his extended hand. I look at his large, ruddy palm and feel my belly swirl in reaction. Apprehensively, I place my hand in his, and he rather discourteously snags me close to him. It nearly costs me my balance, but I'm glad it doesn't.

I watch as Aemond links our arms together before he walking off. My eyes dart from his bicep to his profile. I take in the shape of his nose and think about how our children would inherit it. I press my lips into a line at the thought.

"Our marriage is that of convenience," he turns to me, "and duty."

When Aemond does not continue, I tighten my lips together and nod.

He looks away and walks at a slower pace, "we are to be married in a few days time, and after that, you will no longer belong to your house, you will belong to mine," I notice how his expression hardens, "you will belong to me."

"I understand this," I retort.

He tilts his head, "do you?"

I nod, "I do," I tighten my grip on his arm, "my whole life I have been groomed to be the perfect wife. Once I am yours, everything that I am will be for you."

Aemond's face is blank when he looks at me, and yet I can tell he wishes me to clarify.

So I do, "I will be your wife, your princess, the lady of your house, the mother of your children. I am for you... and you for me."

"Mmm," he looks away and adjusts my grip on him. He loosens it, "yes."

For a moment, we both simply walk on the rocky ground.

Aemond draws a deep breath and turns his head to gaze upon the façade of what would be his castle after our marriage. It was a shabby little thing, run down and without servants, but it was situated in a strip of land that would prove to be beneficial if, say, war came.

"Your father is character," Aemond starts, "a rather ambitious man, wouldn't you agree?"

"He is," I chew my lip, "if he could, he'd take the stars and put them on his walls."

The prince hums, "do you share in his ambition?"

"I-"

He squeezes my arm. He throws a look, as if displeased that I would answer so quickly.

I raise my brows, retaining what I meant to answer, though saying it much slower than I would have, "I have no other ambition than to be a dutiful bride. My ambition is your ambition."

Aemond does not respond nor speak up until we make it back to the carriage.

There, both our mothers are waiting, both equally pleased by our return.

"There they are," my mother says with a smile, "I trust you enjoyed your stroll, my prince."

Aemond eyes my mother as he breaks away from me to walk over to his. Queen Alicent smiles at his son and brushes the hair that was flying to his face.

"The walk was too aggravating to be enjoyed. There was not a single patch of leveled ground," the prince say, "I doubt even sheep would enjoy it here."

I play off my agitation while my mother laughs, "you needn't worry about the ground being level, prince Aemond. You'll have peasants to do that for you."

I walk towards my mother when she reaches out to me. She smiles and takes my hand, "come, my daughter. Today will be your last day as my baby."

I lock gazes with Aemond as my mother kisses my temple.

I feel embarrassment creep up my cheeks.

The honest truth was, I don't remember what happened between that moment and when my husband was undoing the back of my dress. I vaguely remember the wedding, sharing dances with my brothers, with Aemond's brothers, with Helaena. I can recall King Viserys retiring early because of his headache, but then again, he did this often, so it could simply be a memory from another day.

All I know was that Aemond's fingers were hard, hot, and nimble. What would have taken me ages to take off my dress, he did so in a few seconds. I do my best not to breathe heavily, but even though I was not facing him, I couldn't seem to keep from heaving.

It was quite dark. The few candles that were lit did not really help in illuminating the room, but that did not make the idea of being naked in front of a man any easier for me.

My hammering heart commanded my eyes shut as the feverish dragon stripped me bare before him. I swear his touch burned my shivering skin as he slowly revealed my body to himself. I feel him brush his palms down my arms as he pulled my dress down my shoulders. Soon enough my entire body prickled as my shift dropped to my feet.

I cover my breasts with my arm and block my sex with my hand.

"Would you like to undress me, wife?" he mutters.

I feel the hair on the back of my neck raise when I feel his hot breath hit my skin. It was such a plainly worded question, yet it made me want to jump out of the window.

I slowly turn my head, opening my eyes to steal a look of him from over my shoulder. I don't know why, but I say, "yes."

The fact was I didn't. I didn't want to undress him. I would like to think it was quite apparent with how I slowly turned and apprehensively uncovered myself to be able to undress him.

I did not know why I was so shocked that he was unabashedly eyeing my body. I did not know why I was so shocked when his hands reached out to my waist, when his fingers pressed into my flesh, and his nails left marks on my skin. I let out a squeak and fidgeted with his shirt as he did so.

He only releases me when I pull his top off. I step out of my shift, bunched by my ankles, and walk closer to him to undo his breeches. I do not look at his face once, but I know he is still looking at me.

Once his ties were loose, I ghost my fingertips by his waistband, uncertain and hesitant of what to do next.

Recognizing this, he takes my wrists, but he freezes the next moment, clearly not expecting me to do what I did next.

I kissed him. I tilted my head and pressed my lips against his. It was chaste-- probably how I kissed him when we were proclaimed man and wife, but gods did it make my body burn.

I lick my lips after pulling away. I think about clutching his face, and so I do. I reach out to his cheeks and shift on my toes, leaning in for another peck.

I whimper when he pulls me flush against his chest. The contrast of my softer, colder body on his leaner, warmer one was something welcome. Apart from his hands tugging me close, it was like his very essence was drawing me into him.

We do not break our kiss even as he pushes me towards the bed, not even as I topple back and land on the mattress. There is a desperation in his kisses, as if the act of ending it would cause him harm.

He guides me underneath him. He parts my legs and makes room for himself between them. He rubs against me, and it is then I am reminded that I had failed to strip him fully naked. He immediately moves to remedy this, which is then when he pulls away.

When he does so, he rips at his trousers, hell-bent on freeing himself in as little time as possible.

Aemond gets on his knees and gracelessly pulls his remaining clothing off. It may have been dark but I could see him. I could see all of him now. It made my core pulse with excitement, dread, anticipation, and apprehension all at once.

I sigh when he sinks down and presses against me. He kisses me again and I feel his hardened length press against my belly.

I mold my body against him, curling myself in a way that fit snug with his form. I bring my thighs against his hips and feel encouraged when his hand squeeze and pull them closer to him.

He breaks our kiss to draw in a much needed breath and the haze that built in my mind grows thicker when Aemond begins to trail his lips down my jaw and neck. My nails find their way to his spine when he begins to buck his hips into me.

My skin prickles and my heart pounds when he whispers something into my ear. I did not know what he said, but I was certain it was High Valyrian. I was also somehow certain it had something to do with the way I felt.

Aemond hums and sinks his nose behind my ear. I whimper in response, arms tightening around him. I embrace him like I did not intend to let him go, and it truth, I really didn't.

"You make such pretty sounds for me."

I feel embarrassment creep up my cheeks. I am glad he does not see it.

I make another sound when I feel Aemond's hand trail between my thighs. We both hiss when his fingers find my sensitive center.

He pushes himself up on one arm and lifts his body. Aemond grabs himself and makes me yelp when he rubs his cock against my folds. It was then I realized how wet I've become.

He does this for a while. He coats himself with my dampness. He continues until I feel my body drip with sweat and arousal, until the arm keeping him up tires, and then I feel him slowly push into me.

When he does so, he sinks down and fits into me oh-so perfectly. The intrusion was not at all uncomfortable, in fact, it made my belly burn with need.

I find myself kissing the crook of his neck as he laid atop me. I feel him sigh in response.

"Please," I whisper, thighs rubbing against him, "I need more."

Aemond wastes no time in attending to my plea.

I mewl when he begins to thrust his hips. His movements are short and tight; he barely pulls out. He continues like this then changes pace when he grabs the back of my knees and pushes them close to my ribs. His movements grow bolder, more deliberate and harder.

He, himself, makes pretty sounds as he moves into me.

I feel sweat begin to build on my skin. I feel a pressure begins to tighten in me.

"Take my seed like a dutiful wife," he kisses my jaw, "I'll put a dragon in you."

My back arches, "Aemond."

"I wish to see you full of me," his one hand comes up to my breast and squeezes it, "I wish to fill you with me."

"P-please fill me," I respond with a shaky voice.

Aemond grunts, "I will."

My heart nearly stops when I feel burning pleasure break into me. My mouth releases the remaining air in my lungs as it calls out my husband's name.

Aemond makes gutteral noises as his movements grow rough and eventually stop.

I bury my face into his shoulder and catch my breath. Aemond follows suit but takes only a few breaths before lifting himself up and rolling off me.

He brings my legs together and covers my form with a blanket. I tense when he stands and walks off, feeling a panic come over me when he disappears. It only intensifies when he does not come back quickly.

I am about to sit up but then I freeze when I see him walk over to me. He is now clothed and had something in his hand.

"Clean yourself up," he places something on the bedside table, "you will not enjoy it when you wake," he turns to me, "I suggest you get dressed as well. You are rather cold."

I feel my body burn as Aemond walks off, circling the bed, coming under the sheets on his side.

I do as he says, slowly pushing the blanket off, feeling a chill run down my spine when my bare feel touch the cold ground. I stand and see that there was a wash basin on the table, as well as a towel.

I take in a deep breath and wipe myself down with warm water that was prepared for me. Once I was done, I examine the floor and pick up my shift. I put it on and put out the candles.

I climb into bed and do my best not to touch Aemond. My voice breaks when I call out, "good night."

He does not respond so I tell myself he was asleep. It takes a while for me to do the same.

417 notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 5 months

Text

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 3: Figure it Out

prev | masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: You become Jungkook’s problem.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, tension, an argument, accidentally triggering someone else

a/n: this week, they actually get to talk!! hooray! except, well... they might not be so keen to celebrate this development... enjoy the drama👀

“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jungkook’s stare was level, voice monotone. You gulped, finding it difficult to meet his eyes.

Exhaling, you cast your gaze across the rest of the training space, though you knew it to be empty. You were tucked down the end, where Jungkook had been practising before, and now stood opposite you.

“I- I don’t-” you stammered, “what do you mean?”

Jungkook poorly concealed the roll of his eyes.

“Namjoon taught you how to do this yesterday-“

“-I wouldn’t say taught, exactly-“

“-so let’s see it.”

Was Jungkook not supposed to be helping you? Namjoon had said his powers were closest to yours. Clearly his eagerness for you to learn from Jungkook had blinded him to the very clear hatred Jungkook harboured for you.

But if this was how he wanted to play it, you would go along. Prove to him that you didn’t need his help to improve.

Gritting your teeth, you lifted your palms as Namjoon had shown you earlier. What else had he told you? To summon the right feeling.

This time, instead of being afraid of the pain your powers had brought at first, you searched for the sensation in your chest. Briefly, your eyes flickered to the side. Jungkook was watching you impatiently, eyebrows raised.

He didn’t think you could do it.

Swallowing, you pulled your eyes away from him and towards the metal target he had fixed on the wall, the one you had seen him training with earlier.

Like opening a trapdoor in your chest, a blaze of heat suddenly escaped. You panted as it flowed from your palms, watching with pride as your bright blue current zapped across the surface of the metal, just as his gold had done earlier.

After a moment, you felt your energy waning and fumbled to close off the power again. Though it took you a great deal of concentration, it came easier than it had done the first time. Glowing with your achievement, you turned, head high, to face Jungkook. Maybe you had been too hard on yourself earlier, as Jimin had said. You would soon get better.

But instead of any indication he was impressed, Jungkook simply folded his arms, expression unchanging.

“You need to be quicker,” he said.

Not entirely concealing the disappointment that lanced through you at his dismissal, you waited for him to elaborate.

But he merely stared.

It became clear he had no intention of continuing. Hands tightening to fists at your sides, you scoffed in irritation.

“And are you going to tell me how to do that?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out,” he said darkly. He turned and stalked away to the bench by the wall, leaving you no chance to argue.

Before he turned around, you wrenched your eyes away, and back to the target. Fine. He didn’t want to teach you. He was only here because Namjoon had made him, but he was taking it as a chance to try and see you fail.

But you were determined he wasn’t going to be the only star student around here.

Your arms lifted, and this time it was much easier for you to summon the electricity. Perhaps, like physical exercise, this was a matter of getting warmed up.

A sharp blast of blue rattled the metal against the wall. A smirk slid across your face.

You shut it off and tried again.

At the side of the room, Jungkook watched without reaction as blue repeatedly fired across the space, the same vivid lightning reflected as a glow in your eyes. You smiled as you watched that deathly light, and he knew he was right about you. He saw that same cold joy at using powers that could take a life – the exact same as the man who had given them to you.

By the end of your training time, your confidence had been restocked. Jungkook hadn’t offered you any more assessments of your weaknesses, but you were certain you had become quicker at both activating and stopping your powers than you could have imagined after your first try the previous morning.

Another clash sounded through the room as you hit the target again. As it faded, leaving just the sound of your panting breaths to fill the space, a voice spoke.

“Very impressive.”

Lowering your arm and whirling around, you found Namjoon leaning against the opposite wall. He strode towards you, though you noticed his eyes travelling to Jungkook who was still skulking by the wall.

“Loads better already,” Namjoon offered you a smile on his way past, “nice work, both of you.”

As his leader approached him, Jungkook got to his feet, enduring the congratulations of Namjoon who threw an arm around him.

“Yep,” Jungkook ground out, eyes fixed on you, “she’s certainly determined.”

His blood boiled even further seeing your mouth quirk up at that.

“Get some rest. You’re done for the day,” Namjoon told you. Nodding, you headed away, not waiting for Jungkook. It was just as well, because Namjoon held him back.

“I’m proud of you,” he told the younger sincerely, “I knew you would be able to welcome her in eventually. And it looks like you helped her a lot. It may not be easy for you, but you set aside your differences and that’s great.”

Namjoon’s encouraging smile was the first thing to strike guilt into him about how he had been treating you. His leader was so pleased, but it was all a lie. He hadn’t really done anything to make him proud.

Nodding with an attempt at a smile, he excused himself for the gym. Whenever he couldn’t make sense of his thoughts, they could usually be straightened out by a workout, so he headed straight there and began with some pull-ups.

He trusted Namjoon. Namjoon wanted to welcome you. But still, he couldn’t seem to support the decision.

Again, his mind replayed the mental images of you, standing with your shoulders set and arms raised, repeatedly firing deadly electricity through the air. The flashes of blue were enough to dissipate his guilt almost instantly.

His biceps and shoulders began to protest, but he pushed through. If he could just make a few more…

The problem was, he could see that fatal determination in you. His comments hadn’t prevented you from pushing your powers harder. Did you even understand how dangerous they were? Anyone could end up with powers like that, and not all were equipped to deal with them. Not everyone would use them for the best.

It was clear to him that you wanted nothing more than to master them as quickly as possible. And then, who knew what you could do? To him. To his team.

He dropped back to the ground, panting heavily.

Rubbing his burning palms together, he watched as gold static crackled around them. He clenched them into fists, turning away.

You stared hazily at the four blank walls of the room. It was entirely dark, your eyes only picking out slight details. Not that there were many to behold; you remained in the bare room from your first night, clearly not fully trusted with your powers yet.

Though you felt you had proved yourself a little when you trained with Jungkook earlier, you had to agree it was for the best. You didn’t want to admit quite how drained you felt after the adrenaline from your training had faded.

At first, you had crashed on the sofa, chatting with Hope and Jimin again. They were encouraging as always, understanding of the tiredness that seeped into your bones.

“Don’t push yourself,” Jimin had warned again. “You only just got your powers after all. You’re still adjusting.”

But fairly soon, talk of powers and training had been dropped. They put the tv on, and besides the news article which flashed up at first (‘Bolt describes his defeat of Monster Necrus X’), it was the first time the craziness of this new world you had crash landed into was gone from your mind. You didn’t care what they put on, paying minimal attention to the show and instead basking in the downtime with your new friends.

But when Hope looked up warily, you didn’t even need to guess who was standing behind you.

Jungkook’s venomous glare only met you for a second as he walked past, instead settling on ignoring you completely as he headed to the kitchen. The same loose t shirt hung from his frame, but since you came upstairs it had been drenched with sweat, clinging to his back as he headed to the kitchen.

Looked like he did train as hard as the others had told you.

Heaving yourself to a sitting position with some difficulty, you groaned. You hadn’t been working out, in the traditional sense at least, but your muscles had seized up.

You kept your gaze on Jungkook, who was filling a bottle and tilting his head back to gulp down some water. When he met your eyes again, his darkened, jaw popping in irritation.

With a sigh, you turned back to the others who were eyeing you apprehensively.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you sighed.

“You don’t have to-” Jimin tried, but you shook your head.

“It’s okay. I’m about to pass out anyway. Have a good night.”

You weren’t sure what time it was then, but it must have been early because on waking you found yourself wide awake while it was still dark, the house quiet. Despite the subtle ache in your body from the strenuous first day, and the heaviness of your head, you were firmly awake.

Pushing the covers off, you sat with a huff.

At least this feeling, this inability to sleep, wasn’t something isolated from the regular world you used to know. Even people who had never seen lightning shooting from their own hands had trouble sleeping sometimes. A normal problem, that you could deal with.

And so it was almost relieving when you padded into the deserted kitchen. For the moment, you didn’t have to cling to anyone, least of all someone who seemed to despise you, to guide you through.

In the kitchen, you flicked on the lights beneath the cupboards, the minimum level to light the space without assaulting your weary eyes.

Through your tiredness you breathed in the still air as you sat back, having set the kettle to boil. You watched the water inside growing restless as it heated up, tracking the bubbles as something to do.

It was only when the light flicked off, signalling that the steaming water was ready, that you took your eyes off it. And then you nearly fell out of your chair.

As you had turned to stand and retrieve the kettle, you found the seat beside you filled.

Biting back a curse, you simply panted, hand over your chest as you recovered from your shock. Big eyes blinked back at you.

While you steadied yourself against the counter, you took in the person’s face. You hadn’t been introduced yet, but remembered seeing him the first night you had arrived, holding onto Jimin’s hand.

He hadn’t said anything yet, so you shifted slightly and decided to break the silence.

“Sorry… I didn’t notice you come in. Do you have powers like Yoongi’s?”

The only move he made was to close his lips.

Okay, that hadn’t worked. Glancing over at the kettle, steam still emitting from the spout, you tried again.

“I’m making tea. Do you want any?”

Slowly, a smile turned his lips up at the corners. What could be considered a nod moved his head, and a knot of relief unwound in you as you scampered around the counter to fetch mugs. Eventually, the calming scent of tea wafted in steam from each cup as you slid one tentatively in front of your companion.

Clasping your hands around the warming ceramic, you spoke softly as you waited for it to cool enough to drink.

“I’m Y/N. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

His eyes raised from his tea and you mustered a small smile. You hadn’t expected him to reply at all, so when his smile returned and he spoke, you were astonished.

“V,” was all he said, a deep voice that didn’t disturb the quiet.

Your own smile grew. Sliding back into a seat, you took that as a win and kept talking.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you chuckled, “I figured no one would be up, not that it matters. I almost feel like I’m back at home. Midnight tea breaks are still a thing when you become a superhero, it seems.”

Laughing at yourself, you took a sip of your tea at last. But lowering you mug, you noticed a frown creasing V’s brow.

“Hero…” he muttered.

“I was just joking,” you laughed nervously, “I barely know how to use my powers yet.”

He said nothing else, but you noticed his fingers tightening around his cup. Had you done something wrong?

“Is something wrong?” you asked gently, reaching a hand subtly closer to him.

But in that moment, a hot, itchy feeling shot down your arm. With a gasp, you tensed, recognising the feeling and scrabbling to restrain it as you had learned to.

Though you held back the threatening torrent, a small flicker of blue escaped, leaping from your hand.

Closing your eyes and gritting your teeth, you withdrew, but a sudden smashing sound assaulted your ears, making it difficult to focus inwardly. The moment you flinched away, eyes snapping open to see a chair strewn on the floor among a growing tea stain and shards of shattered ceramic, control slipped away from you again.

Eyes widening, you backed away from V, now several paces away from you. Blue crackled around your hands.

It prompted you to take your eyes off the shadowy figure of V, breathing deeply as you locked your powers away, a slight simmering in your chest the only reminder as they retreated.

You had successfully shut down your powers, as you had been taught. But it didn’t seem to have been enough, not for the tense figure that stood on the other side of the trashed kitchen.

Your eyes opened as you staggered back and into the wall, panting with the exertion your powers always inflicted. You opened and closed your hands experimentally. No more electricity threatened. Next, your eyes fell on V, who took another step backwards.

You didn’t know what to say, but before you had the chance, another figure was approaching from the dark corridor. They were practically running towards you.

Even in the unlit space, you soon saw that it was Jungkook. His nostrils flared as he noticed you, but first he turned to V. Not far behind on his heels was Jimin, who didn’t spare you a glance as he ran to V as well, instantly throwing his arms around him from behind.

You could only stand, frozen as Jimin led V away. Jungkook remained.

Biting down on your tongue, you pushed yourself to stand unsupported again. Jungkook stepped disdainfully over the remnants of V’s tea on the floor, stalking towards you. He didn’t stop until he was close enough that it forced you to look up at him.

“What are you thinking?” he hissed.

“I-I don’t know what happened,” you stammered.

You might as well not have bothered, cut off nearly instantly by Jungkook. He was practically snarling, throwing a hand out as he ranted.

“You’re damn lucky you weren’t fried to a crisp!”

“I got my powers under control-“ you protested.

Teeth gritted, Jungkook pressed even closer to you, crowding your space as he glared into your eyes.

“I wasn’t talking about you!”

Clenching your jaw, you breathed through your nose, refusing to budge even though his face was mere inches away. Silence stretched out, nothing but your breathing filling the space as you tried to fathom his words.

“V…” you murmured. A curious frown creased your brows, but Jungkook didn’t feel like indulging you. His lips curled into a scowl.

“You must be stupid. I’m not sure if you noticed, but our powers aren’t anything to fool around with. All of us.”

“He… he wasn’t going to hurt me,” you spoke. At first in disbelief, but you grew more certain. V had had more than enough chance to attack you if he had wanted to.

“You don’t know that. Just stay away from him,” Jungkook spat, stepping back.

You jumped in before he could turn his back.

“And how am I supposed to do that? I live here too, Jungkook!”

“That’s the problem!” he rounded on you, “you don’t know anything about us!”

“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of,” you spoke coldly, “V is fine. And so am I, if you cared to know. I did exactly what I’m training to do.”

It was your turn to walk away, passing Jungkook on your way towards the exit. Unfinished tea be damned, you couldn’t keep arguing with him.

“Like scare him half to death?”

You paused in your path. Why did he think you were training to instil fear? You were training because you had no other option, with powers as unpredictable as yours. But it seemed fear was what you had caused anyway.

Dropping your head, you gazed at your hands, wishing anew that you didn’t have this complicated curse that drove people away. That made you into a danger.

But you didn’t have the words or the will to explain this to the obstinate Jungkook.

“See you at training,” you spoke flatly, and stepped away.

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you're enjoying so far!!💜💜

Let me know via reblog, ask etc if you want to join the taglist

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities @parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack @oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife @kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook series #jungkook mafia au #bts series #bts fanfic #jeongguk x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook enemies to lovers #superhero bts #supervillain bts #bts supernatural au #jungkook supernatural au

152 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 10 months

Note

15 with Ganondorf as person B 👀👀👀👀

event here.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, quickies, creampies, slight roughness, sort of modern AU kind of thing going on word count: 0.8k pairings: Ganondorf x Fem!Hylian!Reader prompt: Person B and Person A fucking in public and having to keep their voices down to avoid getting caught. Bonus: Person B has to cover Person A's mouth with their hand. Or their lips.

You wondered often to yourself how you managed to catch the eye of the king of Gerudo. But you were never complaining when he showed you this sweet side of him. You remind him of sweet days frolicking in the forest of Hyrule in his youth, and he reminds you of warm summer nights watching the stars. Somehow, you became a perfect match for Ganondorf. He had quickly become your lover, and the intimacy you two shared was nothing short of mindblowing and magical. He made every time with you feel like it was this sensual ritual.

Even though he was more a fan of making love in his bedroom or yours, sometimes he would surprise you with something quite spontaneous. Whenever he did that, you were always so excited. Having a quickie in somewhere new and with the potential of getting caught always gets your blood pumping and your heart racing like nothing else. So when he invites you out for a few drinks at this new tavern built in your town, you know that maybe this will be the night you two decide to have such a risky rendez-vous.

You wear a new dress, just begging to be pushed up over your hips. This is exactly what Ganondorf does as soon as he locks you both into the overly cramped restroom of the tavern. His eyes are full of fire as he kisses your neck, making you squirm in his grasp.

“You know the rules,” he whispers in a husky voice. “Don’t make too much noise and you need to let me finish inside.”

You don’t often let him finish inside, just because you aren’t necessarily ready for the commitment of a baby. But whenever you two indulge in these sorts of quickies, it’s just easier for him to finish inside of you so that he doesn’t need to clean up messes. You kiss him frantically, clinging to him as he pins you against the wall of the restroom.

“Gan…” you breathe out as he plays with your clothed cunt. He smirks as he notices how the fabric is clinging to your folds already.

“Naughty little princess,” he grunts as he pushes your panties aside. “You were just waiting for this to happen.”

It doesn’t take much longer for him to pull his own pants down and let his cock bounce free. It smacks against his abdomen, standing tall and leaking out the pearlescent fluids you usually love to taste so badly. He can see that look in your eyes, and he knows he doesn’t want to tease you for much longer. So he opens your legs a bit more, and he uses his cock to spread your wet folds.

“Fuck, you’re so damn wet.”

He doesn’t say anything more before sliding into you, making you squeak out from the intense feeling of being stretched. No Hylian man could ever fuck you the way this giant Gerudo does. He just makes you feel so full every time. You feel it all the way in your navel sometimes. It’s just the size of him that has you completely stretched out. His eyes narrow at you as he begins pumping into you.

“Be quiet, princess.”

You try your best, but it always feels so good. You grip onto him as his cock pistons into you, in and out and in and out… He’s slow with the rhythm at first, keeping it nice and deep. It doesn’t take much for him to pick up the pace and begin fucking you harder. Your nails dig into the meaty flesh of his biceps.

“Oh fuck, Gan!” You cry out, and he growls. He knows if he continues to let you be loud like this, you’ll surely get caught.

One of his hands comes up and smacks against your mouth, making sure you understand the warning he is trying to give you. The sounds of your cries of love are now muffled and they vibrate against his large hand. The way he keeps his hand on your mouth while fucking himself into you so fast and hard has your head spinning. It’s so sexy to have him have to shut you up like this.

“I warned you,” he growls into your ear. “You’re just begging to be punished huh?”

He removes his hand for a moment, allowing you to breathe and be able to respond. But at the very same time, the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot dead on and you let out a moan. Ganondorf leans in and kisses you roughly, fucking you harder and faster until you reach your peak. He grunts at the way your silky walls milk him so good, sending him over the edge along with him.

“Next time, you need to be more quiet…” He tells you as you straighten out your dress. “Or else I’ll shut you up myself.”

#bacon.writes #ganondorf x you #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf x y/n #ganondorf smut #legend of zelda #legend of Zelda x reader #loz #loz x reader #loz ganondorf #loz ganondorf x you #loz ganondorf x reader #loz smut #legend of Zelda smut #6k followers event

387 notes · View notes

vex91 · 2 months

Text

Ahn Yujin - Jealousy, jealousy

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader (Highschool AU)

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Summary: You hated how perfect Ahn Yujin was or maybe you just hated her but only if you knew the hatred wasn't reciprocated then maybe you would realize stuff sooner.

A/N: Of course Yujin needs to be the first fic on this blog 🙂‍↕️

3rd's POV

Ahn Yujin.

She was the definition of perfection. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, perfect friends and perfect family - it was so hard to find any bad thing about her.

You on the other hand weren't that. Your grades were average at best, you weren't as pretty as her, your personality was often talked about as annoying, you only had 2 friends for your whole life and your relationship with your parents was shitty.

You were jealous of her whole life and it only fueled your hatred.

"Y/N come here" You looked up at the sound of your best friend's voice. Smiling you walked over to her "Rei, you're unusually cheerful today. Something finally happened between you and Jiwon?" Rei slapped your shoulder at your remark and shushed you quickly since Jiwon was close by with her friends. Well Jiwon knew about Rei's crush on her so you didn't know what Rei wanted to hide exactly but it's her business.

"Are you coming to that party at Gaeul's house?" Your best friend asked causing you to raise an eyebrow until you realized what she was talking about.

"I don't know, all annoying people from our school are gonna be there" Rei rolled her eyes at your comment before shaking your arm "Come on, it's gonna be fun. Me and Jiwon are going" The thought of going to a where you would see Yujin's face and also third-wheeling your best friends wasn't the most tempting one but you could never say no when Rei made that face.

"Fine but you're the one explaining everything to my parents when they find out"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here she was - Ahn Yujin in all her glory having fun with her friends. Honestly you should've guessed that she was gonna be there since it was her best friend's party but you really tried not to think about her and destroy your mood. As long as she would stay away from you then the party won't be so bad, you just need to focus on your friends.

It's easier said than done because it seemed like wherever you went, she was right there too.

You tried to keep your cool but it was harder and harder until you couldn't hold it in anymore and you exploded on her when she finally approached you.

Her reaction wasn't what you expected, she was standing still and completely not affected by your harsh words. It even amused her as she kept looking at you with a small smirk.

"What?"

Yujin shrugged "Nothing much, you just look cute when you're trying to yell at me from down there" You became red at her words, so now she was making fun of your height? This girl was unbelievable.

"Why are you always so-"

"So in love with you?"

You quickly closed your mouth, your ears became red at her words. Out if everything you weren't expecting that but honestly it was Yujin, she couldn't have been serious.

"Stop joking around"

"I'm not. Remember when you got so angry at the fact I won that science contest and destroyed my project after? I kept the pieces because they remind me how cute you looked that day when you were so determined to win. Or when you pushed me into water during our school trip to the beach, your laugh when you were with your friends later stayed in my head. I love everything about you" During her whole speech you were silent, the whole time you thought that she hated you, just like you hated her but now you're finding out it wasn't like that?

"Do you really hate her though"

Rei's words kept coming back to you as you stared at Yujin but the moment was interrupted by your phone suddenly calling. You looked down and cursed when you saw your mom's name displayed on it.

"I need to go" You quickly said and tried to push past her but she quickly held your hand to stop you. Without another word she walked you out of the house and onto the cold streets. Before the cold could hit you though she put on her jacket on you.

"I'll walk you home" Yujin loudly announced and before you could protest she added "I don't take no as an answer. You can hate me later, right now you look like you can't be alone... at least in my eyes" The staring competition between you two continued until you gave up and led the way while Yujin quietly followed after you with her hands in her pockets.

The whole way home was spend in silence, the only sound that could be heard were the cars passing by from time to time. Yujin felt weird seeing you like that, you rarely kept yourself from making some snarky comments to her that made her day every time. Weird but Yujin just liked any sort of communication she had with you, even if it was you being angry with her.

It was clear it was because of your family, Yujin could feel the cold aura coming off of the house from miles away, it was far from the place you would want to come back to. And seeing you clenching your fists before going to the door assured her of that and Yujin immediately stopped you. She didn't want you to in there.

You looked up at her confused and Yujin only looked away embarrassed. She thought of what to say before muttering "I can walk you to Rei's house, I'm sure she's back home and would be happy to let you stay the night" It looked like the idea was tempting to you but the fear of your parents made you hesitate. Yujin squeezed your hand and let you think about it more and soon you only nodded.

At Rei's house your parents kept blowing your phones with calls and messages but you didn't really care at that moment when you could only look at Yujin's disappearing figure with mixed feelings.

What was that night?

#vex writes #ive x reader #ive reactions #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #iz*one reactions #izone reactions #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin

118 notes · View notes

dearharriet · 6 months

Text

About Time | Chapter 1

james potter x reader time travel au | 3k words | contents

page 1 | next

00:00 — 1 JANUARY

James waited until he’d fallen into his childhood home, half-plastered and sad and staring himself in the eyes through his bathroom mirror. His gaze seemed colder, lonelier than usual, and when he splashed his face with cool water it chilled him to the bone.

He’d never been unsettled by solitude, never minded much retreating to an empty bed at the end of a long day. Until then.

That’s when he knew he had to go back.

“Pardon me.”

The voice from behind you was so sudden and deep that you jumped, whipping around clumsily to meet it.

“God, you startled me!”

Laying eyes on the man responsible, you instantly released any ill-will you had.

“Hi, sorry,” he said, and you were already quite smitten.

He was young, though surely not any younger than you. Handsome too, in a dismantling way, like he might take you apart if you were an old clock, just to see what made you tick.

And if he wasn’t young and handsome, he’d still gain a little credit just in looking so guilty for spooking you.

“Hi.”

This was January, and you were out on the veranda, so your breath escaped you visibly. You were aware of it trickling upward as the handsome man smiled shyly and introduced himself.

“I’m James.”

Leaning up against a white banister, you snuggled further into your shawl, watching him. He was a few steps above you, and taller by a lot anyways, so it posed a bit of a strain.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lovely name,” James commented, not missing a beat. It surprised you, but you rallied easily.

“And yours.” You sipped your drink, and when he hadn’t formed a response, decided to elaborate. “Classic.”

James ducked his head in a dashing sort of way, adding a little humility to the lethal mix of attractive traits he contained.

“Yeah, but don’t let it take any precedence. It's strangeness across the board for the rest of me.”

Your lips curled up at the corners.

“For some reason I think that’s true,” you teased, eyes shining with mirth.

There were lots of ways to be flirted with, several of which left a bad taste in your mouth and a loneliness that felt unquenchable in your chest, but this you liked.

James spoke like he was on his toes, constantly steeped in anticipation. If possible, he seemed to savor every moment while simultaneously rushing into better, deeper territory.

He came further down the steps then, and you appreciated the relief on your neck. The smell that drifted off of him was like honey and biscuits, perpetually warm on your senses, even in late winter.

“So how do you know Marlene,” James asked, and you felt the tightness of excitement in your chest realizing that he was going to stay and talk to you.

“Work,” you told him, “she’s a madwoman. Flirts with all the customers.”

James kept a polite distance from you, gravitating toward a patch of light from the windows. He wore a tailored suit that was primarily night blue, which somehow fit him with both strict lines and a charming rumpled messiness.

You wondered if he’d get any easier to look at.

“That sounds like Marly,” James agreed, looking fond. A tiny needle of jealousy pricked you, which was ridiculous, because if this were Marlene’s boyfriend she’d have been shouting it from the rooftops.

Clinging to that affirmation, you asked, “you two are familiar?”

Each of James’ hands held the opposite bicep in a half-hearted cross, aiding a small shrug.

“We went to school together.”

You nodded, growing envious for new reasons.

“That seems to be the theme around here. I’m sad I missed it.”

James smiled warmly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Would it make you feel better if I told you it was boarding school? We had to share dorms all year.”

Fiddling with a ring on your finger, your gaze skipped to the square orange portal that led to the party inside. The window was one on the back wall of the parlor, and it became devastatingly easy to pick out the school club from the others inside. Marlene lounged beside other sharp girls and well-dressed guys, all of them laughing and bickering like siblings. You craved to be at the heart of it more than anything.

“Co-Ed?” you asked abruptly, tearing away from the vibrant crowd to see James’ face contort.

“No,” he laughed. “I roomed with Sirius, Remus and Frank.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Four to a room?”

James’ laugh thickened, his spectacles glinting white as his head tossed back. His amusement was acerbic, corrupting your bewilderment until it was lost to a goofy smile.

“I do feel much better, thank you,” you said. “Private school sounds awful.”

“Well, don’t rub it in, now,” he chided lightly.

An army of wind marched around the corner of the estate then, fighting through your thin shawl. James’ eyes traced your shivering frame as he stepped ever closer.

“Erm, hey, I was wondering—”

The patio door opened, delicate glass inlaid with iron, and yet your moment with James seemed the thing to shatter. A fair-skinned man stepped out, a hunt in his eyes, and you hoped whatever it was for wasn’t James.

Nyx-dark hair moved like shadows over the night sky, reflecting the party inside glossily. His head turned, and then he was laying eyes on your companion.

“James!” The man said, his poised effect splitting down the middle, revealing a collie’s energy. He motioned for James to meet him up on the landing. “C’mon mate, Remus has a plan.”

James shook his head simply.

“Do it without me, yeah?”

Something territorial swept over James’ friend’s face, and he suddenly looked you over. You were embarrassed to only warrant a millisecond of his attention.

“Bollucks,” he declared, challenging James to disagree. “Let’s go.”

Then he returned swiftly inside, leaving both French doors and your chest swung open. James sighed, the weight of a lost battle on his shoulders, and found your eyes again.

“Sorry, that’s Sirius,” he explained, and you supposed that would make sense.

“The roommate,” you provided. James nodded.

“I swear he’s nicer.”

You wouldn’t say you found him rude, just unfriendly. He certainly seemed warm, as did everyone at the party, but to a select few people. A select few that didn’t include you.

You said, “I’m sure.” If James thought someone was nice, they probably were. He seemed a good judge of character. Unless you had very poorly judged his character, which you wouldn’t put past yourself.

James winced. “I have to go. But, um—”

“James, mate, come on,” Sirius called from inside, and then he and another, taller man poked their heads out to check his progress in detaching himself from you.

“Alright, one second!”

You’re not sure why you said it, perhaps the people pleaser overriding your system, but you said, “it’s alright, James. You can go.”

It didn’t make him look any less torn. His head whipped back and forth between you and his friends, trying to find a solution.

Of course you wanted him to stay, but you didn’t want to hold him hostage, so you tried your best to look supportive of whatever he chose.

In the end, he stepped close to you, brows pinched with regret.

“I won’t be long. Will you—would you stay?”

You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, choking back the clawing barrage of disappointment.

“‘Course,” you said.

James blew out a breath, relaxing his tense posture.

“I really swear it. Back before you can say ‘private school,’ yeah?”

You laughed weakly, taking a long look at him for memory.

“Yeah.”

Reluctantly, James backed away from you, then turned to climb the steps toward his friends. They were sagged with impatience, hanging onto his every step the same way you were, except for different reasons. In a way, you were more jealous of these two than you were of Marlene, because they were like James’ brothers. They knew him better than probably anyone, you guessed.

James hopped up onto the landing and glanced back to you, frowning slightly. The light from inside caught his lenses just so, hiding his eyes from you, and that small detail alone felt like the end of all things.

Then, Sirius and his accomplice took each of James’ arms and hauled him inside, shutting the doors behind them.

Shivering again, you watched the three of them appear in the window, heads bowed together in conspiracy. James looked different there, like something out of a movie. He snapped right into place with the rest of them, glittering and masterfully made.

It was clear he had a world of his own—one that you would likely never penetrate, no matter how badly you wanted for it, no matter how long you waited in the cold.

Marlene would forgive you for running off, but you’d never forgive yourself if you got sick for a silly dream, so you left the party and made peace with the what-if that was James.

James fell headfirst out of the cramped coat closet, cursing as his legs tangoed and lost to a tall pair of rain boots. In his fall, he took down with him three raincoats and a hanging organizer (six hats, a bucket of gloves, and five and half pairs of sandals).

He was already tired and fuming when he entered the closet, and now he felt he’d completely lose it any second. Disengaging from his fight with evil clothing, he scooched on his bum to the scrunched up hall runner that paved the Mckinnon’s entry.

Near the end of it someone cleared their throat, and James looked up to see Fabian and Gideon Prewett, the nosiest blokes in the world. Fantastic.

“Look who we have here,” said one twin, the other smiling wickedly, ready to pick up the second half of their routine snooping.

“Off for a snog-sesh with someone, are we, James?”

Battling to his feet, James let out a long-suffering sigh, already moving their way.

“Yeah, your mum,” he snarked.

As they both laughed, James prepared to push between them, but they parted before he had to. He walked through their flank, relieved yet nervous—the typical reaction those two elicited.

Leaving them behind, the narrow hall forked off into several different rooms, offices and kitchens and a library. James played here even before he was in school with Marlene, so he knew every corner like it was his own home. He headed for the parlor.

Even for someone who had never been in the house, finding James’ destination would be easy. All they had to do was follow the music.

In the parlor, chaise lounges were hardly visible under old school friends and their families, the walls lined with business partners and gossiping aunts. Smaller children ran amok, like birds weaving between a forest of mingling adults. The hearthfire hissed and spat, bound to take down at least one fashionably dressed lady before the year was over.

James swept his gaze over the bobbing heads and flying hands, looking for someone in particular. Sirius’ thick black hair beat like a raven's wing near the back of the room, so that’s where the bespectacled boy went.

On his path, Remus stood glued to a wall, looking very antisocial. He pinged from one crutch to another, taking up new residence at James’ side.

“Where’d you run off to?”

“Had to take a piss,” James said casually. He’d grown accustomed to small lies like that, since no one knew about his little habit.

Remus didn’t question it, just picked through the crowd to where Sirius was.

“Padfoot,” James called, and he didn’t have to say anything else. Sirius excused himself and met the two of them without question, a silent understanding that forged the undercurrent of their friendship.

James led them all into another hall, one closer to the crystalline patio doors.

“I heard,” James started, “that Marlene has a pot stash somewhere ‘round here.”

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, and James knew he had them. Even if they came up dry, the two of them would snoop just to snoop, and Remus obviously wanted away from the party anyways.

“Whereabouts do you think it is,” Sirius asked, looking at a mounted painting like it might be involved.

“Dunno,” James said, “but if we split up I bet we’d find it before the new year.”

Sirius grinned, and it spread onto Remus’ lips.

“I can take downstairs, and you and Pads can go up,” Remus said.

James shook his head.

“No, you two can go.” The two of them gave James skeptical looks, but he shrugged. “I have heavy footsteps, they’d hear me up there.”

Sirius’ expression cleared, and then he was nodding along. “Right.” He took Remus’ arm in his grasp and pulled him along. “Let’s go, Moony. I bet we can find some before Prongs.”

James heard Remus object that, “it’s only in one place,” before their conversation was lost by distance. Then, he turned around and pushed through the back doors, praying you were where he left you.

You were. Just like last time, your back was turned to him. You were staring at the clear sky, gripping your wrap close to your chest. James remembered that he’d startled you before, so he latched the doors as noisily as possible. You still didn’t come around.

He supposed that was for the best, actually, since he’d changed something already. He crept down the steps, feeling terrible for sneaking up on you, and wondering what you might’ve been thinking about that kept you so distracted.

“Pardon me,” James begged, and you spun around in shock.

“God, you startled me!”

James smiled, and your eyes trailed all over him. He couldn’t say he minded, since he was doing the same.

You reminded him of a mouse—shy but necessarily bold, holding yourself up outstandingly well as a stranger in a roomful of friends. That was, until you dipped outside and didn’t return.

“Sorry, hi,” he apologized, really meaning it this time. As expected, you smiled shyly, golden champagne tilting in the glass you held.

“Hi.”

A swath of mist escaped your mouth with the exhaled greeting. James had to remind himself that you didn’t remember the first time this happened, so you wouldn’t know his name.

“I’m James.”

You leant back, neck craning to keep his eyes. James stepped down to accommodate you, and your brows smoothed.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“That’s a pretty name,” James said, getting bolder. It was hard to hold himself away from you.

You dropped your head then, smiling primly at the stone steps.

“Thank you,” you said, instead of complimenting James in return.

James blinked. What happened?

“Yours—”

“I’m—”

James paused as you both spoke at the same time, looking at you the way someone might look at a tricky puzzle.

“Sorr—”

“You can—oh.”

Fingers pressed to your mouth, you looked at James, a tentative smile in your eyes. James sighed, and then laughed strangely. He motioned for you to go ahead, only to find your hand unfolding into the same gesture. Both of you stared at each other for a beat before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You go,” James said finally, smiling. You just shook your head.

“I don’t even remember.”

James squinted at your rosy cheeks, his lips picking up at the corners. You could lead a horse to water, he supposed.

The temptation to learn more about you began to win him over, so he bent a few rules.

“So you work with Marlene, I hear,” he spoke, fibbing ever so slightly.

You smiled a bit, none the wiser. “I do, yeah.”

James looked inside, checking for dark hair or an itchy sweater, but Remus and Sirius were still missing. Good.

“What’s that like?”

Brows furrowing, you followed his gaze.

“It’s…interesting. She’s really nice, but she—”

“Flirts with all the customers?” James supplied, peeking at you out of the corner of his eye.

You stared at him for a tick. “Yeah. You must know her?”

“Childhood friends,” James decided, nodding. When he turned back to you, you were raking your eyes over his dressy outfit, lip caught between your teeth. Your eyes found his, and you looked away. James thought he saw a flush to your cheeks.

The wind whipped around the corner then, and James began shouldering his thick jacket off, finally doing what he’d wanted to do before.

“You must be crazy,” he said, coming closer. “It’s freezing out here.”

You braved a look at him, and alarm sunk into your features.

“No, James, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“Don’t be polite, lovely, you’re shivering. Here.”

James slowly held his coat over your shoulders, leaning back to watch you carefully. He saw the moment you accepted his offer, sinking back into the warmth the garment still held.

“Thank you,” you breathed as James pulled away. He shoved his cold hands into his pockets, now looking to conserve heat.

“‘Course.”

Though his hands weren’t on you anymore, James stayed just as close as he was moments ago. He could smell the champagne in your glass. He glanced around to the garden, to your feet on the step, just below his.

“D’you want to head inside?” he asked. “It’s almost midnight, I think.”

Your lips turned up, and James hoped to God he’d get to kiss them.

“That sounds lovely.”

James flipped his phone open, the small screen giving off just enough light in his dark room to make him squint. He was wondering what you’d put for your contact—a smiley face, maybe, or a heart? He hoped you put a heart. It took his brain far too long to catch up to reality.

With a shock of gut-twisting dread, James realized he’d been so wound up over kissing you that he forgot to ask for your phone number. Your phone number.

He groaned, glancing at his bed longingly, but he knew he wouldn’t fall into it very soon. He’d go back a hundred times before he slept that night if it got him one date with you.

thank you for reading! xx | masterlist

page 1 | next

#about time #james potter #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james fleamont potter #james potter au #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders au #maraders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #time travel #time travel au #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom

177 notes · View notes