#like how do i mentally prepare to be invited to these weddings……….. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ursuburbanmother · 5 months

Text

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Four

Pairings: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: did you guys know fifty dollars back in ‘66 was like five hundred dollars??? I didn’t and now I wish I never did. Anyway I kinda just wanted to explore more of Angus and Y/n relationship before the event of the holdovers. So a little backstory on this one. I maybe got carried away. Also this is a long ish chapter cause I have MAJOR exams to take so yeah :0 it might be while till I update again.

Word Count: ~7.5k

Enjoy!

Four Years Before - June 12th, 1966

Your parents had fled to Barbados for a destination wedding which they would follow with a cruise they claimed to deserve. Although it was one of those rare occasions where they had extended an invitation, you had declined. The prospect of being able to stretch your legs on the couch without worrying if you would be crushing some unknown guest, or to be able to walk into rooms without crashing into a waiter passing out shrimp puffs, was much more appealing. You had been left behind with fifty dollars for your fun fund, as your mother called it, and a kiss on the forehead. The nanny your parents kept on retainer would check up on you occasionally only to find you were much better at cleaning up after your messes and doing ordinary tasks than your parents. She’d leave after a few hours and then over the course of the first week she stopped coming.

You had prepared yourself for a month of solitude after Angus had announced he’d be spending his vacation at a tennis camp in Montauk. You must have been reorganizing your bookshelf for the third time that day (once by alphabet, then by color, and finally by size) when you heard a knock at the door. The sun had just begun to set, the sky colored a purple-blue, and you cautiously decided to take your fathers golf club. You dropped the club shortly after opening the front door to find not the face of Norman Bates but of your best friend. You scanned his tear-stained face. His eyes were glossy and his cheeks rosy, like when one stands in the snow and is attacked by the harsh winds that nip at your skin.

He collapsed into your arms, and you are quick to hold him steady. He was crouched over, having had a growth spurt a few months earlier, making it hard for you to look at him eye to eye.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

It was the summer of ‘66, where paranoid parents were starting to believe rock music would possess you. Ironically, it was the year Pet Sounds came out and you couldn’t stop rewinding the songs on your turntable. And most significantly it was the summer you spent with Angus.

He broke the news through jumbled words and choked down tears. How his father had been placed in a Mental Health hospital and how taking him to camp was just an excuse to make sure he wouldn’t be there when the people from the hospital came to pick his father up. They had apparently come early, mixing the dates up.

“Does your mom know you’re here?” You asked, hugging his torso.

“No. I'm sure she’ll be coming to check soon though,” he sniffled, “She’ll probably try to drag me to Montauk anyway and say that ‘it’ll be good for me’.”

You kiss his curls, “What if you stay here?”

He lifts his head up, “I’m not sure she’ll let me.”

“I think she will,” you reassured, “I am a very good guilt-tripper.”

“You can try if you want. How much did your parent’s leave you anyway?”

“Enough for both of us, don't worry. Even if we run out, we could whip something up to eat.”

His eyes widened, “Let's stick to take-out.”

Your house was the first place Angus’s mother looked in, just like he had predicted. He hid at the top of the stairs, staying away from his mom's line of sight as she pressed you for his whereabouts. You had been truthful about how he wanted to spend the next few nights here.

“Are you serious? I’m not going to leave two fourteen-year-olds alone, unattended, unsupervised! God knows what you’ll get up to.”

“We’re not going to do anything!” you argued, “We’re smart enough to not light the house on fire and to dial 911, in case we happen to. Angus just wants to be away for a little while. You should understand why,” you glared.

She looked down, shuffling her heeled feet.

“Besides, you take him away now he’s just to keep coming back here,” you sighed, stating the obvious.

She cleared her throat, coughing as she nodded, “Fine. Alright. Uhm- just make sure he calls me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you do your best to stop yourself from slamming the door in her face. "Bye.”

“The coast is clear,” you shout to Angus who came barreling down the stairs, skipping the last few steps.

“Did she look mad?”

You shrug, “A little. But she'll move on.”

He hums, agreeing as his eyes flicker around the room. He’s looking at the house he must have been at least a thousand times, whether because you invited him or because your parents did. And for the first time in either of your lives… it was completely silent. …

That first night Angus slept on your bedroom floor on a mattress you had dragged from the guest room. You had only your lamp on, and your window was open just wide enough to bring in the refreshing summer air. You were reading a few pages of your book to Angus, and when you glanced down you saw his eyes beginning to close.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. You have a nice voice is all.”

“Thank you. You do want to go to sleep though,” you observe.

“Should I turn off the lamp?” He says almost immediately. He lifts himself up slightly so he can reach your bedside table and waits for your permission to turn it off.

“Yes please.” You settle deep into your duvet. You turn to the side that faces Angus and wish him goodnight.

A few minutes later he speaks up again in a whisper. “Thank you again. For letting me stay here. I'll be out of here by next week, swear.”

“If you could, I would want you to stay here your whole life.” He scoffs at your words as you lean up with the support of your elbows to stare him down. “I’m serious. I only wish I could live in a house with you. Except somewhere far away from here.”

“By the beach,” he adds.

“Yeah. On a beach so obscure they can’t even send us mail because no one will know our address.”

“Oh no. How would your parents ever send you the invitation for your debutante ball?”

“I guess they’ll just have to throw it without me.”

“Shame,” Angus sighs. “I would love to see you in a white dress.”

You pause and then crash down back into your bed. You admire the garland that hangs above you. It’s made of postcards your parents sent you during their many endeavors. In that moment you're reminded of them and turn to Angus. “Oh. About that. My mom told me to tell you to prepare to be my escort in a few years.”

“Already?!” …

You and Angus had fallen into a routine. He’d sleep way later than you, sometimes until noon, and you’d wake him when you got too impatient and hungry for breakfast. He’d stir and groan to the point that it was obvious he was faking before finally getting up.

You would carry what you could from your kitchen pantry onto the backyard patio and eat under the summer sun. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet of fig jam, English muffins and sometimes pears from the tree that stretched over your neighbor's fence. Afterward you and Angus continued your day in the green grass. He would sprawl himself out on a picnic blanket and read a comic book, wearing shades that were on the verge of tipping off his nose. Meanwhile you would tend to your mother's garden. You’d put on her straw hat too, just to make it feel like you were with her.

When you were little, you’d pull the weeds out of flower beds as your mom pruned her lavender. It was her dearest plant, and she treated them so, regularly nursing it to keep it alive. She’d motion for you to come with her and pick up the shears from the gardening shed. Eagerly obedient, you did as she said, and you would work together until called for lunch. Your mother was always a vivaciously elegant woman, always knowing the right things to say and charming anyone she met. You often wondered why you hadn’t inherited her brilliance, the one that made her seem as if she was glowing in any room she inhabited. It was odd that she’d often claim her ability to converse was her greatest ability when the two got along best when moving in silence.

You did your best to care for the plant too. Before you mom left, she asked to handle their upkeep. You took your duty seriously, checking in on them every day until you saw one sign of disarray.

That summer was like playing house. And although you never admit, for the fear that he’d read too much into and freak, it was exactly as you had often dreamed it to be. June and July passed quickly, and you hadn’t even noticed it. You imagined a life where it could just be you two forever, away from your parents and outside of stifling Massachusetts.

You imagined a life in an apartment described as ‘quaint,’ by the realtor to disguise the incredible small square footage. You wondered if he would like to be in a city like New York or Chicago. Somewhere that was always busy, and the chirping of morning birds was replaced by honking cars.

By the time August had rolled around, you could practically hear the unmistakable sound of the school bell ringing in your ear, warning you of its proximity. Thoughts about the future had you asking Angus one bleary Sunday afternoon, “Are you nervous about starting high school?”

Angus was pushing you on the tire swing, trying to give you motion sickness by twisting the ropes of the swing and letting them untangle a second later.

“Not really. It’ll be like eighth grade just with more tests.”

“I guess. But aren’t you nervous about making new friends and stuff? What if we tangled ourselves into a web so deep that we can’t talk to other people normally.”

“Then I have done my job of keeping you to myself.”

“Haha,” you deadpan, “Seriously though. Won’t you miss having me to talk to?”

“Of course I will. But you’ll write to me and crap… right?”

“Of course,” you echo his words back to him, “You’ll visit me when you get the chance too, correct?”

“Eh. If I’m not busy.”

“Angus!”

“Yes! Obviously, I will.” He pushes you a little harder.

“I do want you to be more out there though. Don’t go sulking in corners like you always do. People would really like you if you let them talk to you for more than one minute.”

“You’re starting to sound like my mother Y/n.”

“Seriously though. Did you notice we’re always addressed as ‘Y/n and Angus’ by teachers. Never just Y/n and never just Angus.”

“Yeah. But I like it. It’s like Bonnie and Clyde. You can’t separate them because then it sounds plain wrong.”

“Okay Clyde,” you roll your eyes. You stop swinging, scraping your shoes through the dirt until you are still.

“I’m giving us two weeks before we break down to each other over the phone.” You lose the hold you have on the tire swings and let them drop onto your lap. You simmer under the sun and enjoy the breeze that flows through your hair.

“Don’t go replacing me when you get to your school.”

“Don’t worry, you got a head start seven years ago. No one else will be able to catch up,” you smile teasingly. “Maybe I’ll find myself a boyfriend though. About time for the both of us, don’t you think?”

He frowns, “You don’t need a boyfriend.”

“Yes, I do. Everyone else does.”

“Since when do you do what other people do? I think you should stop talking to people who peer pressure you,” he flicks your forehead.

“Why?” You rub your forehead, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You smirk.

“Gross! No! I was just kidding. Get a boyfriend, I don’t care.”

“You wouldn’t care if I got a boyfriend?” You look at him skeptically.

“As long as he treats you nice and shit,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s just that we do everything together Angus. There are some things I would like to get over with that I can’t do with you.”

“Like what?” Angus wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“Like hold hands and go to bowling alleys or whatever.”

“We’ve done that.”

“I like…kiss,” you whisper, fidgeting with your hands.

“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So would you want to do that … now?”

“What!” You shout, leaping off the swing and walking a few steps away from him. “I’m not asking you to,” you clarify, shaking your head.

“No, but I would like to be over and done with it too… so maybe we should just…” He motions his finger between you two.

“Uhm,” you laugh, tilting your head, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’ll be just to check it off the list,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Um, yeah, okay,” you move closer to him in small timid strides. “You lean in though. I read that the guy is supposed to do that in my mother's Cosmopolitan.”

“Right, right,” he nods eagerly, interlocking your fingers together. With hesitancy he leans his head down and pulls you even closer to the point where you are bumping your noses. You close your eyes, and it's like your brain begins to spin like those show wheels with choices on them. Your brain tries to land on a feeling but loops on endlessly. His lips are softened by the humidity, and you don’t even notice it is over until a couple seconds after he pulls away.

When you think back on it, it really was the most 'first kiss moment’ to ever exist. It was more of a peck, both of you were bright red and shortly after you were as stiff as statues. Not knowing what else to do, Angus clears his throat and removes his hands from yours to wipe them on his shirt. “So, uh, what does your mothers Cosmo say to do afterward?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “I don’t know. I didn’t read that far.”

…

Christmas Eve - December 24th, 1970

After that summer, when you shared a weepy goodbye and headed off to your own high schools, it was undeniable that something had shifted between you both. Even if it often went unspoken. Neither you nor Angus had brought it up, but on occasion you would acknowledge it. Like last night after leaving the auditorium to return to the common room and pick up the dishes, your eyes drifted to the TV where a cheesy kiss scene was happening on screen. The two of you shared a knowing look that said, “That’s not how ours went down,” before shutting the television off and helping Mary into a more comfortable sleeping position.

You tried not to dwell on the past, but it was hard not to when the only thing in your childhood that had always been good, always been constant, was Angus. Every time you looked into his eyes it was like the decade you had spent together flashed by in a sequence of blurs. All he had to do was breathe a specific way in his sleep to remind you of some obscure memory that had died but he had brought back to life.

This morning you felt like you were ten again and Angus was trying to steal your bread rolls at Thanksgiving dinner. Except today he tried swiping your bacon as you shoved him off playfully.

“Get your own Angus,” you say playfully.

“I’ll trade you for my toast,” he offers.

Rolling your eyes you accept, grabbing the bacon and shoving it in his mouth, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he says, muffled.

You munch on your toast and catch Mr. Hunhams stare.

“I see you two finally made up,” he comments with a sly smile on his face.

“Mm-hmm,” you cover your mouth with your hand as you chew and turn away embarrassed.

Mary joins you all a second later, emerging as usual with her coffee and a cigarette. She switches between eyeing the two men infront of her, “Why’d you two miss supper last night?”

Mr. Hunham and Angus freeze. “We went into town on, uh, some school-related business.”

“And you couldn’t call? You left me and Y/n out in the cold.”

“Yeah Angus,” you pout at him as he nudges your ankle under the table.

“Sorry,” Hunham turned to you, “And to Ms. L/n.”

“No worries. Really. I had fun,” you smile up at Mary who pats your shoulders gently.

Danny, a man you had been introduced to a few days ago, enters with a mop and bucket. You wave to him which he acknowledges with a slight bow of his head.

“Good morning, everybody.”

“Hi, Danny,” Mr. Hunham greets.

“Good morning. You can go on in and make yourself a plate,” Mary points to the kitchen.

“I just saw something funny,” Danny focuses onto your friend. “I walked into the gym, and somebody had vomited in there.”

Mary and you raise your eyebrows in sync.

“You don’t say. I don’t know anything about that,” Mr. Hunham feigns surprise.

“Yeah, me neither,” Angus wipes his mouth as he speaks.

“I’ll look into that right away. Thank you,” he dismisses the conversation.

“Mm-hmm. I see how it is. Trying to leave us out of your boy's club,” Mary tsks. Danny places the custodian supplies beside Angus' chair and walks away.

“Gross Angus,” you say, like it's his full name. You shake your head in disappointment. He nudges your ankle harder, shaking the silverware above. You fight back, beginning to use your hands as a defense. You two are soon in a game of tug of war.

“Knock it off you two! You are acting like fractious children!” Mr. Hunham scolds and stands up from his seat. Across the table, he tries to part your hands. “This is not how young scholarly men and women behave!”

You and Angus are too drunk on laughter to care. …

You and Angus are in a search for Mr. Hunham who stomped away upon realizing stopping you two was a fruitless cause. You intend to apologize; Angus intends to nod along as you speak. You follow the chatter you hear coming from the kitchen to find Mary replacing you as you as her sous chef.

“Hey that's my job,” you point at the potatoes Mr. Hunham is peeling.

“That’s the culinary industry for you. It’s cut-throat. You still want to be a part of it?” Mary peers over her glasses.

You run a hand through your hair, shrugging. “Um. Mr. Hunham?”

He stops his task, “Yes Miss L/n?”

“I want to apologize for my-,” Angus clears his throat, “Our behavior. You were right. It was very inappropriate. Emily Post would turn in her grave.”

“She certainly would. I accept your apology, however unnecessary. I understand it was that childlike spirit in you that is still intact that came out.”

You shoot him a quizzical look. “Uh yeah…”

Angus gasps behind you as he notices the tray of brownies on a table beside him.

“Brownies? God, yes. I want all of these.”

“Each of you just take one. The rest are for the Christmas party tonight.”

Angus snags you a brownie before practically chomping his down.

“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He perks up like a dog being told he’s going out for a walk.

“Yeah, at Miss Crane’s house. I’m only gonna go for a little bit, show my face and say I was there. You know Miss Crane said she invited you too.”

“Who’s Miss Crane?” You ask, inspecting the brownie and wondering what Mary does so differently to get it to taste so good.

“School secretary,” said Angus with a full mouth. “Just one of the loveliest faculty members at Barton,” said Mr. Hunham at the same time.

A beat passed as you all noted the flustered expression that passed through Mr. Hunham face.

“Ah- anyways, she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”

“If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take them.”

“Mary can take us,” problem solved, Angus thinks.

“Oh! Okay… so we are going! I packed a dress that’s been collecting dust in my luggage.”

“No, that’s not how it works. You’re under my supervision,” Mr. Hunham reminds.

“Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around reading books all day, but I am losing my goddamn mind! Jesus!” Angus' suddenness makes you flinch. You avoid the flying brownie as he storms past you.

“Hey! Watch your mouth, young man. Not on Christmas Eve!” Mary yells after him.

“You, see?” Mr. Hunham points at his retreating figure. “I can’t trust him in a social situation.”

“Mr. Hunham, if you’re too chickenshit to go to that party, then just say so. But don’t fuck it up for the little asshole or his sweet little angel of a friend! What’s wrong with you? It’s just a party. What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Hunham said so quietly you could hardly hear him.

“Shit. Now you’ve got me nervous,” Mary wipes her hands on her apron.

You’re still standing there until they hear you go retreat the brownie and throw it in a nearby waste bin. “I could replace those?” You laugh uncomfortably.

“That’s alright sweetie. I want to come out of this party with my reputation intact,” Mary winks.

“Ouch,” you clutch your heart jokingly. “So can I go get dolled up?” …

Someway, somehow, Mary had gotten Hunham to take you to the party. You got ready in the room Ye-Joon and Alex had occupied before. You hadn’t anticipated wearing anything fancy, so the dress you had was a relatively simple one. It was red which fit the Christmas theme well enough and ended just above your knees. You hoped Mr. Hunham wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like Ms. Orchard probably would. You wore flats and did your hair the best you could without products. Although you had managed to give it some more volume by using some leftover soda cans that had yet to be thrown out. It was a common hack all Janie Patrick School girls learned in their freshman year. It was practically a seminar, as the senior girls taught you how to roll them into your hair just right.

You waltz out of your room, feeling as fresh as a daisy and catch Angus shaving. You sneak up behind him, putting your hands on his shoulder and looking at him through the mirror. “What is there to shave Augie? You’re as clean shaven as a newborn baby,” you tease.

You try to check your makeup and feel Angus stiffen under your touch. You remove your hands and see him staring at you open-mouthed.

“What?” You panic. Had you screwed up your hair? Was your mascara too clumpy on your lashes?

“Nothing,” he gives you a once over as he gulps. “You just, you look, you… you look pretty.”

“Oh,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, “Thank you. It’s just the makeup.”

“No, it’s not that. You always look pretty; I just never have a reason to tell you. But I can… today.”

“You look handsome everyday too…” you fidget with your hands.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him bashfully. Quickly you take the razor from his hands, “even more handsome once you change. We’re going to be late."

You run back to your room and try to regulate your breathing. In the reflection of the fogged-up window, you admire yourself momentarily. You suppose you do look pretty tonight. …

You four travel in Mr. Hunhams rickety car. You awe at the town Christmas lights before arriving in front of what you assumed to be Miss Cranes house. One by one you all enter, lingering by the front door like wallflowers. You inch closer to Angus, self-conscious suddenly. You loop your arms together when Miss Crane enters to greet you.

“Oh, hi. Oh, you made it! Welcome,” she pauses to address you and Angus, “Aw hi!”

“I'm so glad you're here,” she tells Mary.

She laughs at the flattery and refers to the brownies, “Where should I put these?”

“Um, oh,” Miss Crane lifts the cloth draped over the tray and gasps, “Those, I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”

“Oh! You're a wicked woman.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she takes the tray off Mary's hands.

“Certainly a lot of people here,” Hunham comments, surveying the room. It is lively with Christmas classics blasting on the radio and kids running around playing tag. The entire house is decked out, almost looking like the spirit of Christmas had barfed out the decorations. Some adults take a swing of their liquor, others smoke, others do both as they chat.

“Yeah, yeah. Some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”

“That’s my mom on the couch,” She points to an older lady sitting by the silver and blue Christmas tree. Next to the woman dancing with her toddler who wears no pants. “Uh, that’s my sister Kathy and her son Marvin.”

As she continues to point out each invitee you wander with Angus further into the living room. He seems captivated by a snow globe on a mantel. He shakes it and watches as the snow falls around Santa. You too are enchanted by the sweet melody that plays from it.

“Angus!” Miss Crane snaps you both from your trance. Miss Crane stands next to a girl who appears to be around your age.

“This is Angus Tully. He’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise,” she introduces.

“Niece Elise. Nice,” he glances at you, hoping you got the joke as Elise rolls her eyes at his word play. You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And is his friend Y/n L/n. She goes to the school across the lake from Barton. Janie Patrick’s.”

“Nice to meet you,” you stretch out your hand for her to shake. She does so awkwardly.

“And this is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?

“Ancient Civilizations, yes”.

“And this is Mary Lamb. She’s the manager of the cafeteria.”

You don’t know why, but you start chewing your nails. A habit you had thought you had broken in the seventh grade. You bite down particularly hard every time Angus glances at Elise.

“Hey, why don’t you take Angus down to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition?” Miss Crane has a hint of something you can’t identify in her voice.

“Come on,” Elise tilts her head and hesitantly he seems to follow.

“Um. What about Y/n? Can’t she come?”

“Don't worry about that! I have someone I think she would like to meet,” Miss Crane nudges you forward.

“Oh?” you say worriedly.

Elise takes Angus away by the hand and distantly you hear him call out, “Wait what?”

“His name is Joseph Leery. He’s a freshman at Yale!” she gushes.

“Oh? Great? Go bulldogs? That’s the mascot, right?”

“Honey, save your charm for him!”

…

Angus descends downstairs. He repeatedly glances behind him, desperately searching for the remaining bits of your voice. “Um. Maybe I should go back upstairs? My friend Y/n doesn’t do so well with crowds so.”

“Nonsense! She’ll be fine. If I know Auntie Lydia, she’s probably introducing her to the Leery's son, Joe.”

“Joe?” Angus scowls at the name.

“Yeah. Family friend of ours.”

Elise leads him to an arts and craft table, full of scattered red, green, silver and white pipe cleaners. Glitter is spilled everywhere, and the kids take their time decorating their popsicle sticks.

“This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties. I think it’s kind of cool. There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”

“Picasso’s cool,” Angus digs his hand further into his front pockets, “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse,” He tries to mimic it as best he can.

“Yeah, I know Guérnica. You really saw it?”

“Yeah. At the Museum of Modern Art in New York. It’s huge. My dad took me.” And Y/n too, he wants to say. Although if what Elise said was true, that Miss Crane fancied herself a modern-day cupid, then he figures he should try not to scare her off by bringing up another girl.

Although it's hard not to think of you when he thinks of his dad. His dad liked puzzles which you happened to have a plethora of that your parents had bought you to keep you entertained during long plane rides. This was before they trusted you enough to leave home alone.

In the winter you’d sit by the fireplace and lay out the puzzles of Monet’s Water Lilies. Then when the spring would offer you limited warmth, you’d all be found in the backyard of Angus’s house trying to piece together Van Gogh's Starry Night.

So many art inspired puzzles eventually had Angus’s father turn to you both and asking, “How would you guys like to see these in real life?”

That easter break had you three crammed into a yellow taxicab and enjoying New York pizza slices.

“Hey Guérnica,” she breaks through his nostalgia plagued mind, “You just gave me an idea,” she smiles.

…

Mr. Hunham stands by the funky-looking Christmas tree when he feels someone’s lips crash onto his cheek.

“Oh!” He says shocked. He feels as if he had just been dumped into a cold bucket of water.

“Mistletoe!” Miss Crane laughs, pointing at the little green and red plant that hangs on the ceiling. She hands him the Jim Beam he asked for earlier as she wipes the side of his face clean to get rid of any lipstick that might have been transferred.

“Yes, of course,�� he laughs along, unsure of what else to do but to let her caress his face. “I didn’t you know you were quite the mastermind.”

Miss Crane tilts her head and motions him to elaborate

“Playing matchmaker for Mr. Tully and Ms. L/n.”

“Oh! Well, when Angus said they weren’t an item I figured they’d were itching for a chance to mingle outside of their little circle. I hope I didn’t overstep anything. After all I imagine they don’t get many opportunities to openly chat with people of the opposite sex! Dating is crucial in shaping character.”

“Yes, I imagine it is,” Mr. Hunham agrees, unsure if that is fact or fiction. He is awful at letting silence just be silence, so he does what he does best. Spew nonsensical facts.

“You know, it’s interesting. Aeneas carried mistletoe with him when he descended into Hades in search of his father.”

“Oh. Huh…” Now it is Miss Crane who is unsure of what to do with that.

“Um. Anyways. I like your tree. It’s really space age,” he comments and is hit slightly in the shoulder by her enthusiastic hand.

“I brought it to commemorate the moon landing!”

“Really? Wow.”

Miss Crane takes a sip of her punch, “So where is your family this Christmas.”

“Nowhere. I’m an only child. My mother died when I was young.”

“And your father?”

“Let's just say I left home when I was fifteen.” If Mr. Hunham had known this was what small talk topics had evolved into, then he must have been right in avoiding social functions all this time.

“You ran away?” She guesses.

“Worse. I got a scholarship to Barton. And from there, I went to college and never looked back.”

“But you did a little,” she points out.

“Hmm?”

“I mean you came back here.”

“Ah.” He really did not feel like being questioned so heavily tonight. Not to pat himself in the back, but he believes he's credible enough to label himself as a decent writer, able to handle the equal weight of a pen and his words with ease. But as a conversationalist, he figures even one of the dimwits in his Ancient Civilization classes have him beat.

“It feels kind of like home I guess,” he muses, “and I guess I thought I could make a difference. I mean, I used to think I could prepare them for the world even a little. Provide standard and grounding that Dr. Greene always drilled into us.”

Mr. Hunham can feel himself run out of breath, “But, uh the world doesn’t make sense anymore. I mean it's on fire. The rich don’t give a shit. Poor kids are cannon fodder. Integrity is a punchline. Trust is just the name of a bank.”

“Well…” Miss Crane tries to soothe him by running her hand back and forth on his arm, “look, if that's all true then now is when they most need someone like you.”

Mr. Hunham knows when he is being humored and told what people he wants to hear. He looks at Miss. Crane and for the first time in a while he is looked back at with genuineness.

…

Elise and Angus finger paint on a wide piece of blank paper. He’s mixing the colors, and they all tend to come out looking a sickly brown. Elise covers her side with an untainted red. She seems to be more into it than him as she incorporates real swirls and shapes onto their canvas.

“Am I doing this right?”

“There is no right or wrong,” she reassures. He feels her stare linger on him for a second. He is scared to look up. “Are you okay? You seem… gloomy.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. But, uh, tell me about this Joe guy.”

She looks at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“Just curious. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of him around my school is all.”

“Well probably because he graduated over a year ago.”

“So, he’s in college.”

“Yes. A freshman at Yale.”

“Yale!” He shouts loud enough for even the kids to glare at him for disturbing their fun. “Sorry,” he apologies to them.

“Would you say he’s cool,” he asks a millisecond later.

Elise tries not to laugh at his blatant desperation, “Yeah I would say so.”

“Funny?”

“He's basically Gene Wilder.”

“The dude from The Producers?!”

“Yes, and he was also a football quarterback.”

“What.”

“And valedictorian, and the heir to the Campbell Soup Company.”

“What the hell? Is this guy superman or,” Angus takes a minute to recognize the smug face on Elise. Finally, she breaks out in a loud giggle.

“Oh,” Angus sighs in relief, “You’re messing with me.”

“A little,” she says through fits of laughter. “Anyways if you’re so worried why don’t you go back up there?”

“I was just worried that he would try something. But technically he sounds alright.”

“Ah. So, you’re jealous?”

Angus rolls his eyes, “No. I’m a concerned friend.”

“I’m not sure about that. Concerned friends don’t start interrogating the girl they are on a hypothetical date with.”

She leans down to point at a glob of paint in the corner of the paper, “I think you even doodled her name.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, going over it and trying to cover it up along with his embarrassment.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this was going to go be framed at the MET.”

“What are you implying anyway,” he narrows his eyes.

“You’re going crazy being gone from her for two minutes. What do you think I’m implying?”

Angus slumps his shoulders and admits what had been ignoring. It's like a message in a bottle he threw into the sea, desperately trying to avoid the shore. Even when it does reach land, the cap is tightly sealed, clinging on to the bottle and doing it best to remain unread. When it does pop open and the paper is unfolded, although it might be difficult to read, the message still exists. It still exists even though time fought so hard to destroy it.

“I do think about her that way. Sometimes. Then the rational side comes out and tells me that it's human nature for a girl and guy friend to think about each other that way.”

“Well, does she know you think about her that way?”

“No. Sometimes I imagine she feels the same, but you’d have to know her to understand why I’m so confused. She’s the most thoughtful, kind, and perfect person in the world. It's hard to tell if she’s showing that side to everyone or if I’m special enough for her to give me that treatment.”

“You know Picasso also said that ‘Everything you can imagine is real’.”

“Are you Picasso's biographer?”

Without missing a beat, Elise smirks and says, “Yes.”

Angus is up the stairs without having thanking her, too fueled by adrenaline to practice basic manners. He’ll have to tell Miss Crane to pass on the memo. He’s on the hunt for you but is yanked into the house's kitchen by a mysterious hand.

“Hey?” He asks, disoriented.

Danny is staring straight at him, with both hands on either side of his shoulder.

“I need you to find Mr. Hunham,” he orders. Angus looks past the man to see Mary weeping heavily into the sink. Understanding, he nods firmly and is back out the door.

…

Joseph Leery is not half bad. He’s kind of funny, clever and not a bad person to pass the time with. You sit in the back of Miss Crane's living room on a couch all to yourselves. He tells you how he’s majoring in English in hopes of becoming a journalist.

“What kind of journalist?”

“Investigative. I would love to be the next Upton Sinclair. Or Seymour Hersch.”

“Ew! The Jungle made me so sick for a week after. It was so gross.”

“I know but that's what made it so great. Exposing the meat packing industry probably put him on a few hit lists too.”

“Oh yeah definitely. So, then who are you planning to expose?”

He laughs, “I don’t know yet. Is there any chance you’re planning on becoming some corrupt politician?”

“Not in the foreseeable future. I’ll let you know if I ever do,” you giggle.

“What are you planning to do then?”

“Then? Um... Like as president? I don’t know. Fund schools-.”

“No,” he laughs harder, “I mean like with college and life. Do you have anything planned out?”

“Erm, not really. My parents probably want me to go to the Ivy Leagues and crap. I should have a plan, I know, but I guess I’ve been putting it on the back burner.”

“Why?”

You shift in your seat. “I have this friend. He’s sort of had this rocky life, not I haven’t, and I know it's stupid to mold your entire life to fit around one person’s but for him I would.”

Joseph sniffs and straightens his posture. “Sorry. Lydia didn’t mention you having a boyfriend.”

“No, I don’t,” you stress, “I just really care for him, you know. We’ve known each other for so long. He’s important to me.”

“Y/n have you ever read Persuasion?” he asked suddenly.

“Um, not yet. I know the gist of it.”

“Well, it's ultimately about regret, right? Anne spends eight years longing for Wentworth when she could have been with him instead, had she not given into pressures. The point of the novel is not to wait to love the person you’re sure is it for you.”

“Love?” You hear someone say above you. You look up to see Angus, his arms stiff by his side. He glowers at Joseph. You jump off the seat and on operating on some strange reflex you go to fix his shirt collar that has stood up.

“What's wrong?”

“What were you guys talking about?” he interrogates.

“Books. Why?”

Angus doesn’t buy it but ignores the gnawing feeling in his gut, “Mary needs us in the kitchen. Go ahead, I still need to get Hunham.”

“Oh…Alright,” you turn and wave to your brief companion. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah maybe,” Joseph lifts his canned soda as if to say cheers.

You walk on ahead as Angus loiters behind, silently scrutinizing him.

Joseph takes a sip from his coke and points towards the direction you disappeared to. “Your girl went that way man.”

Angus rolls his eyes but leaves, nonetheless.

…

Miss Crane and Paul are sitting next to each other, their drink half-finished. They can feel the red tinge on their cheeks and themselves becoming looser.

“Are you planning anything special for tomorrow?” Lydia inquires.

“No. Why? Are you having a…”

“No, I just thought maybe you’d be doing something special for Angus and Y/n.”

Mr. Hunham shakes his head and Miss Crane lets out a small gasp, “You should! Help preserve some of the magic. Angus may be a little difficult, but he’s still just a kid. So is Y/n. And life catches up to them so fast. Them,” she stares at her lap, contemplating. “Ha. Us!”

“You’re a very sweet person, Miss Crane,” he compliments.

Miss Crane melts, “So are you, when you want to be,” she quips, “and it’s Lydia.”

He enjoys the feeling of camaraderie between them. He feels a cool breeze at the back of his neck and the sound of the door opening.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Miss Crane gets up and moves past him.

Mr. Hunham turns in time to see a man take off his coat, a gift under his arm. A moment later Miss Crane is there to receive him with a kiss. Together they walk away, and Mr. Hunham is left alone. Once again.

“Mr. Hunham, could you come with me, please?” Angus nearly trips as he stumbles over to the teacher.

“Yeah, what is it?” He sighs as he gets up with a groan.

“Come on, it's serious,” Angus leaps away. Peeking at him at the corner to see is Hunham is following, “Come on.”

Mr. Hunham is dragged into the kitchen, where he spots Mary, crying quietly to herself. Danny is next to her. You’re across the room biting your nails and hinting at Mr. Hunham to do something.

“Mary? You alright?” he questions, even though he knows it's in vain.

“Just leave me alone,” She mumbles.

“Want me to take you home?” Danny offers, placing what he thinks is a consoling hand on her back.

“Back off! Back off!” Mary whisper-shouts, her hands shaking down in anger. Mr. Hunham shuts the door, giving her privacy if nothing else.

“He’s gone,” she erupts into full on sobs. The mask comes off and she’s no longer Mary, the woman who appears to deal with grief like it was nothing but a bump on the road. Instead, it's Mary, who lost a son and whose grief has entirely consumed her until she can no longer breathe.

…

Angus and Mr. Hunham support Mary on both sides, as they make their way to the car. “I was right. This is why I hate parties. That was a disaster. Total disaster!”

“Speak for yourself. I was having a pretty profound conversation. I was about to make some serious life altering moves,” he blurts, angry and unable to believe his window opportunity was slammed shut. He had an internal plan. That'd he’d whisk you away from stupid Joseph and ask you to dance, maybe lead you to a mistletoe and see where it goes.

“With whom? The niece? Are you kidding me? This poor woman is bereft, and all you can think about is some silly girl.”

“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“I’m not talking about Elise; I'm just saying this is the first good thing that came from being in this prison with you.”

“Need I remind you it’s not my fault you’re stuck here? Do you think I want to babysit you? I was praying to the God I don’t believe in that your mother would pick up the phone, or your father would arrive in a helicopter or a submarine or a flying fucking saucer to take you-.”

“My father’s dead,”

“Angus-,” he hears you say but he holds up his hand for you to stop speaking.

Mr. Hunham stops dead in his rant, “But I thought your father-.”

“That’s just some rich guy my mom married. Give me your keys,” he sticks out his hand.

“It’s unlocked.”

Furiously, Angus stomps away. You excuse yourself from the two adults before doing your damnedest to not slip on the ice. Flats at this time of the year were not your best idea.

“Angus,” you reach him, tugging at the back of his jacket so that he’ll slow down. “Why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“The thing about your dad,” you mumble.

“The way my mom and Stanley talk about him, he might as well be don’t you think?”

“You don’t mean that,” you scold. “What happened? Are you really this mad about Elise?”

“No. Damn it. I don’t even like Elise.”

“Oh,” despite the circumstance, you can’t help but feel giddy. “Then what is it?”

“You seemed to be having a pretty good time yourself with Joe on that couch.”

“Joe?” You cross your arms. “You mean Joseph?”

“Oh great. You have a nickname for him.”

“Angus, Joseph is his legal name, that's the opposite of a nickname.”

“I don’t want to talk about Joe,” he says. You both reach the end of the block where Hunhams car is parked. In the distance you see them come closer, their feet crushing the white snow.

“You brought him up,” you massage your temple. You think back of the endless list of books you have read, or the many movies you’ve watched. You scour through the genres. You think of how Joseph managed to connect to life. You think of the rewatch of Cactus Flower with Mary. How envious Ingrid Bergman character was every time she saw Julian talk to Toni.

“Angus, were you jealous of Joseph?”

He stops his ongoing struggle with the car handle, finally prying it open.

“Were you jealous of Elise?” he asks you.

You frown and fixate on the pavement; your nails dig into your palm as your hands turn into fists. Deafening silence engulfs you before Angus exhales heavily. Before you can speak, Mr. Hunham arrives and motions for you to scooch over so he can open the passenger side for Mary.

“Sorry,” you apologize and get in the backseat.

“Straight to bed you hear me,” Mr. Hunham warns once you are all buckled in. “Enough theatrics for one day.”

“Mmhmm,” Angus responds, but all he is doing is looking at you.

#angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully x reader

140 notes · View notes

merlinssassybeard · 1 year

Text

'Ex' husband Gojo - The Aftermath- 01

Tags- self harm, miscarriage, mention of cheating

Synopsis- A look at reader's mental state after the entire ordeal with Gojo.

Part 3 // series masterlist

The maid was just about to enter the private chambers of Lady Y/n to pick up the dishes before she stopped in her tracks and started eavesdropping the conversation...

"Taking pills...precautions...pregnancy...we should divorce.....i...carry children......Satoru..."

These were the words she heard. It was as if the ground shifted from beneath her feet. What she heard was the news of the century.

It didn't take her long to run back to her servants quarters and spread the word...

The Gojo household staff comprises of only five women, one is an attendant of yours and two male out of which one is head staff of the household.

All the servants started gossiping about the matter. It didn't take them long to call their friend servants in other big and small households.

In no time the news of The Gojo Satoru and Y/n, the window (as everybody loved to call you in jujutsu society), Divorcing and supposed pregnancy spread like a deadly wild fire...

Satoru was busy in his mission in Seoul, he had no idea of anything and was scheduled to be back in time for the New Year's Eve Party.

An evening event held at the Gojo Clan's Estate which is attended by illustrious people from both sorcerers to non sorcerers backgrounds.

From Japanese Royal family and aristocrats families, The Zenins, The Kamo, The Council of the Higher ups and every other Clans to J-pop stars, actors, models, polticians, wtiters and whoever not!

The Event is a private Party where red carpets and paparazzis are not allowed but the event's pictures sure find their way to Page 6 each year. Displaying the lavish lives of the noble families of Japan.

For the last 4 years, as the Lady of the Gojo Clan, you hosted this lavish party at the main Gojo Estate. Before you, it was your mother in law.

For someone who comes from an average lower middle class family, you have quite the taste in decor, food, fashion, art and knowledge on hosting parties, qualities that are a must for a Wife of high and Noble stature.

Satoru's mother and the entire Clan was very reluctant to have you in the family. She was against this marriage but Satoru being Satoru, her only son and a total mama's boy, she couldn't get herself to say no.

After your marriage, you both, newlyweds, were living in the main estate but after 5 to 6 months Satoru decided to shift to a new house where both of you will start your newly wedded life.

Your mother in law had accepted you in the family after she got to know you and as a gesture wanted you to stay as she wanted to be the"first to get the news of her grandchildren" verbatim.

Every Clan head's wife has a special personal attendant who lives with them in the household. They are supposed to look after the wife as their lady companion, the woman they could rely on.

You too had one, Mrs Kori.

Mrs Kori was your assigned attendant. But she did not lived with you in the same house. You had allowed her to live with her own family, unlike other wives. She only attended official family Events with you as a part of her duty. You have a semi-formal relationship with her.

30th December, 2016

It was about time for the New Year's Event.

Previously, you would enthusiastically start preparations a month prior, considering it is not a small tea party rather a big event where everyone has their eyes on you as you are The Host.

You would rush at the Gojo Estate and get started with placing orders for flowers, preparing the huge garden for guests, writing invitations and a million other decorations. Your mother in law would watch and suggest or support you every now and then since she's been doing this for over 30 years.

But this time, which would have been your fifth year, it was all gloomy.

Satoru's mother was very concerned regarding the both of you. She noticed how this year you didn't celebrate her only lovely son's birthday neither did you began any planning for the Party.

She wanted to come to see what's gotten onto you but couldn't as she took back the reins of organizing the evening party. Although she did let you know through one her servants that she's taken over.

You on the other hand, wanted to recover from everything that has been going on.

Its LIFE afterall. And life is like a river, you cannot stop moving just like that. Moving forward through all the obstacles, IS life.

Your head was convincing you with all motivation it could but your heart just wanted to hold onto the little snow globe containing an Eiffel Tower, one of Satoru's souvenirs that you found by your bed, just sitting in a corner few days ago.

You were aware about the New Year's Event but you just couldn't get yourself out of bed let alone be out of the house and organize a large scale star studded event. All because of everything going on and that day... 25th of December.

You did something which you shouldn't have... a very horrendous action, a very lowly act indeed.

You wanted to go out and free your mind and to prepare yourself to look normal for the new year crowd. The first interaction with people besides your staff since the whole fiasco with your husband went down.

Your friends from the office you worked with before quitting and marrying Gojo, had called you in for Christmas drinks evening. You went and had drinks but later it took turn for the worse when you went to the house of one of your male co-workers who had a crush on you, and spent the night...

In the days following after spilling the entire ordeal to Shoko, you started developing a weird and concerning 'obsession'...

It started accidentally though but eventually you liked it or simply found it better as a 'punishment' for your actions.

It was just an innocent scratch when the glass fell on the ground and shattered and hurt your knee. But slowly, it took a darker turn and you would start to 'scratch' with a razor on your inner thighs.

It didn't take long when you would just think about that night of 25th December while in a bathtub filled with water and you trying to drown yourself in it only to rush out and slit your wrists with the razor in anger and frustration.

It felt weirdly... nice?

@sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @Enaaneaen @sweet-almond @Angel_🫶🏻@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0peful @kugisakinobarades @witchbybirth @nineooooo @ssc7514 @Hana-patata @blue_spices @haikyuubiggestsimp @urstepmom69 @hueneve @chayunwoo@waosobii @nadzhaf @yoriichiswife @tiltraumadouspart @kirschtein123 @whoisobsessed @Asala @ashthemadwriter @remnirris @svm666 @voidsatoru @staygoldsquatchling02 @dunnowhy-m @nnasv @violetmatcha @dummyf @Noblog @Littledemoness15 @shaiah @iluv-ace @mmeerraa @angellyah @0bakuzan @waxhers @chanelmalandro @shoutobrainrot @narutosolosurfav @Kei-b-gurlll @🫶🏼 @angrydaughter @Screw-aebi@asdfghjkl7things @kodzukenwhore @gabile18 @bollockswhy @pelicanpizza@electro-supremacy @Zatannaswifeblog@spam-and-eggs @guenievresworld @b0scuit@aliventboo @marit332 @bbylime @ieathairs @hells-escapees @no-name222

Apologies if i forgot to add your blog

AN- There's a 2nd part to this chapter, which will be released after few corrections. Thank you for your support and patience.

900 notes · View notes

sparklingchan · 6 months

Text

Serendipity || Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: Suggestive, mentions of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant) , mentions of poison, Changbin is sweeter than sugar. Set in the Joseon Era.

Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, fluff with very slight angst.

Description: The King of Joseon had chosen you as his queen. But there are those that wish for this union to fail. Will your love be enough to overcome the competitiveness of the Palace?

A/N: Hello everyone! Back with another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. I am genuinely in love with this one ngl. King Changbin is a rizzler y'all. Hope you guys have fun reading this <3

Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated)

Here's the link to the masterlist.

Being a woman in this country is not an easy task. Especially when one is a candidate for the position of the country's Queen.

You'd dreamt of this for years, the idea sewn into every thought by your father even since you were child. With time, you'd welcomed the thought without a complaint.

"My lady, the Royal messenger is here." Somi informs you, and your nervousness just goes up by a thousand.

Did you manage to become the Queen and make your father proud? Or did you get disqualified and were now just a daughter of some minister and free to marry any other commoner like yourself?

You run down the hallway and enter the pavillion in front of your house, the colorful banners of the Royal entourage shine under the bright sun.

You straighten your robes and kneel down, head almost touching the ground, as a mark of respect for the King's verdict.

The chief Eunuch opens up the scroll in his hands.

"Please find enclosed the Royal Edict from the King's Court:

I, Seo Changbin, the King of Joseon, have chosen Miss y/n of House Kim as my wife and, by extension, the Queen of our beloved country. I have consulted the three High State Councilors and my mother- the Queen Dowager about the same and we have all unanimously agreed that she would be the best choice for the country as well as the Royal family, owing it all to her wits, beauty and manners.

Congratulations to Miss y/n and her family.

The Royal family would also like to extend an invitation to the bride-to-be to shift into the Detached Palace at the earliest as part of the customary pre wedding ritual. "

It feels as if someone had punched out the air from your lungs, you couldn't speak nor stand, while your parents and brother continuously thanked the Royal Eunuch, accepting all the gifts sent by the Palace for you.

But you couldn't move. You just stayed there, frozen. For life as you had known it has come to an end.

And thereafter begins a new, Royal chapter of your life.

"I'm going to miss you, my child."

The days since the Edict pass by in a heartbeat. All the members of your family were busy with packing your belongings while you were busy with mentally preparing yourself to leave your family and house behind forever.

Yes, you'd always wanted to be a Queen. Yes, you'd spent years getting ready for this role. Yet when the time finally comes, it hurts you to think about leaving behind twenty three years of your life.

"I'm going to miss you too, mother." On hearing your words, your mother cries harder.

But as usual, your father shows no emotion. His face is calm.

"Remember, y/n, there are no friends in the Palace other than your husband. You cannot confide in anyone but him. The other concubines will do anything to gain his favor, but you shall always be a step ahead. Be vigilant and loyal. You will make a great Queen." He says. Like the strategist he'd always been.

"Yes, father." You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your mother clinges to your arm.

"We will try and visit you whenever we can. I'm sure his Majesty will allow."

"Yes, of course. You can visit me anytime. The Palace is only a few hours from here."

"Oh, my child! How will I ever live without you!" Another sob tears out from your mother's throat. You hug her with all the love and care you could muster up in that moment.

Your father walks out of the room, hands behind his back and face twisted into a frown.

The Detached Palace is to be a temporary residence for the bride-to-be. For over the next thirty days, you would be receiving lessons on various subjects like history, Royal Etiquette, sewing, cooking and most importantly- lessons on intimacy. The last lesson is considered most important, according to Somi, since it allows you to birth as many healthy heirs as possible.

After helping you dress up for the night and setting up your bed, your maids take your leave for the night, only Somi remaining by your side.

"Do you think I'll see the King tomorrow? It's queer but I'd like to know what my future husband looks like, at least."

Somi sighs, "I don't think it's allowed, my lady. I believe you can only see his Majesty on your wedding day. A month from now."

You're oddly disappointed. You had dreamt so many nights of seeing the King, holding his hand, being by his side, yet the King in those dreams often never had a face.

Was it wrong to yearn to look at your future husband's face? Just once?

A subtle knock on your door startles the both of you.

"Yes?"

"My lady, the King is here to see you." Your handmaid almost whispers the words through the door.

With unparalleled urgency, Somi helps you straighten your clothes and rushes off towards the door.

"Your majesty." The maids and Somi greet him with the customary bow, while you purse your lips in a line, head hanging in a subtle bow.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It's so loud, you're sure even the King could hear it.

"Please give us some privacy." The King commands.

And you heart beats faster on hearing his voice for the first time. Gentle, yet authoritative, just like you'd dreamt.

When Somi closes the door behind her, you almost regret wishing to see your future husband. The proximity makes you nervous and you could only hope you'd not faint in front of him.

"My lady, you may rise."

You'd almost forgotten you were still bowing to him. You mentally slap yourself.

"Y-yes, your majesty. " your voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak, your eyes still on the ground.

You'd prayed for this moment for years, y/n. Why couldn't you just meet his eyes?

As if sensing your inner conflict, the King takes two long strides towards you and hooks his index finger under your chin, sending a chill down your body.

"My lady, please look at me."

And you do.

And he's like everything you'd ever wished for.

Perfect, like a beautifully crafted sculpture.

His soft brown locks, his rosy lips, the subtle mischief in his eyes. Everything is perfect.

"Y-yes, your majesty. Sorry." You mumble.

The king smiles, rubbing circles into your cheeks.

"You may call me Changbin when we're alone."

You nod.

"I just came to ask if you're finding your new residence comfortable. We both shall be busy with lessons tomorrow onwards so I figured tonight would be a good time to visit my bride."

His bride? His bride?

Your legs feel weak.

"I'm finding it extremely comfortable, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality. "

Changbin let's out a low chuckle, leaning towards you. His lips hover inches above yours. And when he speaks, you feel hot air on your lips, "I told you, y/n. Call me Changbin."

You frantically nod.

"Good. Better be careful next time, my bride."

When you wake up the next morning, you're sure you'd dreamt everything that happened last night.

But apparently not.

"The King is a dashing young man." Somi teases as she lathers a concoction of herbs into your hair. "You're lucky, my lady. He seems to be a gentleman."

But you are too caught up in your thoughts to reply to her.

Did the king of Joseon really come all the way to the Detached Palace to see you? What if he's disappointed with how you had reacted? But he shouldn't blame you at all.

You had not been expecting anyone yesterday night, especially not him. But he did come to you. And he touched your chin. If you focus hard enough, you could feel his touch lingering in the area.

"My lady?" Somi clicks her fingers in front of your eyes, "Come back to earth. We have to get you ready for the classes today."

Blushing, you reply, "What classes do I have today?"

You had three classes today: Palace etiquette, literature and what Somi insists most important: lessons on reproduction.

While Palace etiquette mostly includes lesson on how to behave with Royal elders, ministers, maids, the King, literature includes important pieces of literature that are important for a woman.

And lastly, the most dreaded time arrived.

The reproduction lessons.

The tutor shows you all sorts of obnoxious hand movements and some drawings of couples in intimate positions. You feel uncomfortable from the beginning till the end.

A woman at least five decades older than you is teaching you about intimacy? Very awkward, to say the least.

But you heave a sigh of relief when the classes end for the day and you make your way to your room in the Detached palace.

"It's just the first day, Somi and I'm already tired to the bone." You say, kicking your shoes off.

"Well, it's going to be a lifetime of time this now, my lady. And you best be prepared for it."

You reply Somi with silence. But her words make you wonder. If this palace life would ever be less tiring someday? Would it even be worth it?

Perhaps not.

But King Changbin 's face flashes in front of your eyes; his sparkling eyes, mischievous grin, his feather like touch- maybe he is what will make everything worth it.

That night, after your maids get your bed ready while Somi is combing your hair, a familiar announcement echoes through the corridors of the Detached Palace.

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

His smiling face peeps through the doors as your maids hurry out of the room. He wears blue silk robes, and you feel weaker in his presence than you did yesterday.

"Did you miss me, y/n?"

And thus begins a month of secret nightly visits by the King of Joseon to the Detached Palace.

Everyday, you wake up looking forward to the time when King Changbin would come knocking at your doors, always up to some jesting.

Sometimes, he brings you fruits you'd mentioned you liked or he tells you stories from his childhood. At other times, he tells you about that one teacher he will hate till the end of time.

But most times, he spends his time listening to you talk- about everything and everyone, about the skies and gods, about ghosts and afterlife, about favourite foods and literature. After you'd overcome the initial shyness, opening upto Changbin was as easy as breathing, almost natural. Of course, you were still nervous around him, but it's a feeling you'd come to like.

Is this what the writers and poets describe as 'butterflies'?

"Do you think I'll make a good Queen?" You ask him one night. He sits in front you on a cushion, across the room, a position you told him is appropriate for two unwed people (although he did not agree to it initially).

If your nightly shenanigans were to be ever discovered by anyone, you would not want to be found in close proximity to each other even though you were betrothed to each other. He's breaking Palace rules everyday as it is.

He hums, "Of course! I think you'll make a great Queen. You're so good at your lessons already."

"That does not guarantee anything. I might not be good at taking the responsibilities."

"Do you trust my judgment, y/n? I think you'll make a great Queen. And even if you are overwhelmed, I shall always be here."

That night he leaves earlier than he usually does, owing to the fact that tomorrow is the day where his concubines are to be welcomed into the palace. Five of them.

The thought leaves you feeling bitter and dejected, but you make sure to not make those feelings obvious. This is a rule for Kings, to take as many concubines as possible to ensure the continuation of the blood line.

"Don't worry, my lady. Your rank in the palace is above these petty concubines. They will not mess with you." Somi comforts your thoughts the next day.

"But what if Changbin favors them more?"

Somi does not reply to that question.

On your 18th birthday, your father had promised to you that he would make you the Queen of this country. He kept his promise because here you are, after five years, getting dressed to be married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your father always insisted that powerful men do not love but Changbin's sparkling eyes always contradicted everything your father had taught. Nevertheless, you know the competitiveness among the concubines for the King's affection is mad. More often than not, even the Queen gets involved in petty fights.

But you try to remove all thoughts of your father and the concubines today. Because today, you are to be married to King Changbin. From today, your name will be written in the historical logs of the Royal family. From today, a new life begins.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Somi asks, "You look worried."

"I'm fine. Just hope the ceremony goes well."

The ceremony does go well and in all honesty, you were not worried about the ceremony itself. You were worried about the aftermath.

The maids guide you to your new palace, and get you dressed in white robes for the wedding night. The night when you will finally meet Changbin as his wife. The butterflies swim around in your belly.

The bed is decorated with flower petals and a few candles are lit. Everything is perfect.

"The King is here." One of your ladies in waiting announce and you get up to greet your husband.

The maids leave the room as the doors slide open and Changbin steps in, also dressed in white robes. He looks dashing, but his signature grin is nowhere to be found.

When the doors close behind him, he walks past you to the bed, the scent of liquor evident in his breath.

"Have you been drinking, your majesty?" You ask him, worried by his odd behavior.

What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he even bother to meet your eyes?

"Changbin." He slurs, wrapping the blankets around him, "Call me Changbin."

He turns away from you and is snoring away in no time.

The butterflies in your stomach flutter around before dropping dead.

You did not sleep that night. Even though you were sleeping next to the man you love, you felt lonelier than ever.

Many times during the night, you consider walking out of the bed chamber to the servants quarter so you could talk to Somi. But you couldn't do that. Because you were now the Queen of this country and every single step you take will have its repercussions.

When morning comes, Changbin wakes up in a haste and greets you with a subtle nod and walks out of the chamber in long strides.

You well the tears back. It's your first day as Queen and hadn't he always promised to be there when you were overwhelmed? Had he lied? Or was it Changbin's doppelganger who visited you every night in the Detached palace?

Somi comes in a few minutes later with an excited smile on her face.

When she does your hair for the day, she asks, "So, how was the wedding night?"

You want to answer her truthfully - how cold Changbin had been, how he had not even looked at you let alone touch you, how you think he had changed almost overnight. But you see the prying eyes of the other palace maids and swallow your sadness.

"It was perfect. Like everything I'd ever hoped for."

"He was gentle, I hope." She says through a grin, but it feels like someone pouring alcohol on an open wound.

"Yes. He was."

As part of royal customs, the new bride is supposed to visit the senior most female member of the family and greet her. In your case, the member happens to King Changbin's mother.

Somi dresses you in the most exquisite silks and adorns your hair with the most precious flower but you feel nothing at all when everyone compliments you on the way out of your new Queen's palace.

Your mother in law's palace is a little far from the Queen's palace yet it is as beautiful as any other palace. From inside as well as outside.

"Greetings, your majesty. It is nice to meet you." You bow in front of the Queen Dowager.

The woman-not more than sixty years of age- looks at you with a gentle smile.

"Come in, y/n. Please be at ease."

You're seated in front of her on a cushion while the Queen Dowager's maids serve you breakfast.

"I hope your first day here goes well, my child. Our family is thrilled to have you." She says.

"The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. I am honored to be a part of this family." You say.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Changbin is thrilled to have you or not. Probably not.

The mere thought of yesterday's rejection stings.

"Y/n, truth be told, my son is a quite a troubled man. His father was murdered in front of his eyes. He was made the king when he was only 16 years old. It's been 7 years since then, but the burden only gets worse. I hope you, as a Queen and as his wife, can help him lessen these burdens. Can you do that?" The Queen Dowager asks again, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I will do everything I can to help him." If only he'd let you.

"Good, good. I'm glad. And one more thing, y/n, you know as Queen one of your primary duties is to produce an heir for Changbin's throne. I hope you're working on that, yes?"

Heat reaches your cheeks. If only the poor woman knew what her dear son had done last night. If his behavior continues, perhaps it will be long before the Queen Dowager sees the face of a royal grandchild.

"We are trying, your majesty. We will not disappoint you." You reply, sipping tea from your own cup.

"Great! I shall send all types of herbs and tonics to help you conceive as fast as possible. I shall also draw up a chart after consulting the astrologer..." the Queen Dowager's voice fades into the background as your mind drifts off to the nights in the Detached palace, when Changbin would come and spend all his free time with you, against the rules of the palace. At that time, you had been sure that producing an heir would be a beautiful process, not a chore.

But Changbin does not even treat the thought like a chore.

Did he not love you? Did his Royal duties burden him too much?

When you leave the Queen Dowager's palace, you walk past The King's palace. It is as beautiful and majestic as they say. But you wonder if you'll ever be able to set foot in the same.

As if on cue, you see Concubine Jung walking out of the King's palace, her maids behind her. The butterflies in your stomach burn with jealousy.

She has a smirk on her face when she sees you.

"Eun, did you know there's a rumor around the palace that the King refused to sleep with the Queen last night? Sad, isn't it?" Concubine Jung says.

One of her maids giggle and nod, "Of course! How could the Queen even live with this shame?"

You cry yourself to sleep that night, while Somi does everything in her abilities to soothe you.

Needless to say, nothing worked.

"My lady, wake up. The King has invited you to breakfast with him." Somi informs one morning, six months after your wedding.

"Tell him I have a bad stomach bug. I cannot go."

You'd be found dead before sharing a meal with him and that obnoxious Concubine Jung. You'd shared enough meals with them already.

The past months, the King had not visited you even once but often you'd see him walking the gardens with Concubine Jung at his side.

After the first few weeks, you had no tears left to shed anymore so when the rumor came in last month that Concubine Jung might be pregnant, your eyes do not water no matter how much you force yourself to cry.

"I do not wish to congratulate them." You say, true and plain.

"My lady, he's invited only you. Not anyone else."

So you agree. As a last attempt to make your marriage work, even if it's just for your own sake.

Somi dresses you in green robes- The King's favorite. You quickly make your way to his palace, as if someone else would take your place if you didn't hurry. It's sad your thoughts had turned so negative in just half a year in the palace.

Your father had told you the King would take in many lovers during his lifetime, and that being Queen is about having power, not being loved.

But you think he didn't warn you enough. He didn't warn you how lonely it would be to sleep on the cold bed every night, how painful it would be to see the King smile at someone else.

Even if you did wish for a child, how could you produce you a child without Changbin?

"Good morning, your majesty." You say to him when you enter his bed chamber. It smells like cinnamon, a smell he'd often carry with himself back when he used to visit you at the Detached palace. Back when you were sure the king had been in love with you.

"Hello, my Queen. Please have a seat."

The butterflies dance around for a split second.

"Did you sleep well last night?" He asks, taking a seat in front of you.

"Yes." Lies. "Thank you for inviting me over."

When the maids leave the both of you alone, his demeanor changes.

"Actually, y/n, I had something to talk to you about." He says, casually, as if he hadn't been hurting you everyday for the past few months.

"What is it?" You ask.

He sighs, "It's mother. Ever since that rumor of Concubine Jung being pregnant spread. She wants the first grandchild to be of the Queen."

His words do not faze you, "How can I help you, Changbin?"

He frowns. Since when had your tone become this melancholic?

"Um, so if I have your consent, I'd like to try for a child tomorrow night. We'll see how that goes, yeah?"

"Okay. I will be honored." You say.

You finish up the food quickly and almost slide the doors open when he grabs your arm from behind.

"Y/n, what is it? Did something happen? Are your parents well?"

"My parents are well enough, thank you for asking." You say, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"Then? What happened? Is it Concubine Jung? Really, you did not have to be jealous of her. She's not pregnant. I can assure you of that. I have not consummated my marriage with any one of the concubines."

His words seem to have an effect on you. Your heart blossoms with hope but you keep your face and voice neutral.

"I am not jealous, Changbin. If one of the concubines get pregnant, I shall wish you both well."

You force your arm out of his grip and walk out the palace, not looking back once.

Changbin's stares at your leaving figure, now worried beyond relief that he might have broken the one person he cared for the most by his pursuits of a greater good.

While the past few months for you had been filled with loneliness, for Changbin it was almost the same-if not worse.

The first night of your marriage was filled with as many butterflies for him, as it was for you.

He had fallen in love with you and he wasn't afraid to show the world how much you meant to him. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, make love to you. And he had all plans to do that on the first night.

But that was until he had overheard a secret conversation between Concubine Jung and her father- Minister Jung.

For all he knew, Minister Jung had always wanted his daughter to be the Queen but being the dim-wit that she was, Concubine Jung could not even get through the first stage.

"Father, it's been two days since I'd been in the palace and that man has not visited me once. He had not even asked for my name the day of the welcoming. What kind of man is he? And you say I am to be Queen!"

"Hush, child. In this palace, even the walls are listening. Be careful. And as far as the position of Queen is concerned, you need not worry. If the King does bed the Queen tonight and she get pregnant, we shall make sure her pregnancy terminates before maturity. I have connections with all sorts of medicine vendors in the country, be assured, she shall never see the face of a child. After we weaken the Queen, we can take her throne as easily!"

Changbin had wanted to laugh at the man's foolish plans but deep down, he was worried as well. For you.

Which is why he pushed you away for so long and kept Concubine Jung close. While she tried everything in her power to seduce him, he refused her under the pretense of keeping an oath of abstinence for a year.

Every time she tried to even hold his hand, Changbin thought of you; your innocent eyes, your talks, your wit, your hands, your beautiful hair. No woman could make him feel like you do.

Changbin's secret informants had confirmed that Minister Jung had not one but two houses full of gold and cash he'd collected as illegal taxes from the local people. He'd also sometimes force husbands to send their wives to him in exchange for money. Even the thought nauseated Changbin.

Every time Concubine Jung visited, he made sure to collect some sort of evidence through her. He even visited her every night and while she snored away, he stole some of her gold jewlery and clothes to get them checked as evidence of the illegal taxes her father had been collecting.

And sure enough, after a few months of spying on her and her father, Changbin had gathered enough evidence by now to expose both of them at the court.

But he realised quickly that Minister Jung had a few tricks up his sleeves as well. The rumor of his daughter's pregnancy would make it difficult for Changbin to expose him easily, and so Changbin waited every night that the rumors would die down so he could run to the Queen's Palace and hug you with all his might. You were not safe unless the father and daughter were deposed.

And for some selfish reasons, Changbin had hoped you'd understand the reason behind his distance. But no woman could find a logical reason behind her lover being absent and it was horribly wrong for him to expect you to do the same.

"Are you stupid?" His friend, the eccentric dancer Minho had asked him.

Changbin had told him how coldly you'd behaved this afternoon when he'd asked you if you wished to try for a child. Most women would giggle and blush. But you were like a statue.

"You push her away for months and make her feel lonely and not loved and what not and you have the audacity to ask her that?"

"Well, yes. Mother had been pressuring me for a child and obviously, even with the pressure, I would never do anything that y/n would not have wanted but I thought it would be a great way to reconnect with her. Even if it didn't end in child making or whatever."

Minho let's out a frustrated groan, "You have to learn so much, Bin. But let's start with this- be honest with her. She's your wife and you ought to tell her everything. Give answers to all her questions and hold her hand if she let's you. Small steps first, a child can wait."

Changbin nods, " Okay, should I go to her right now?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Minho says, earning a slap on the arm from The King of Joseon.

He should be glad he's not being beheaded for calling the King an idiot.

You're almost done getting ready for bed when the lady in waiting makes an unexpected announcement .

"My lady, the King is here to see you."

Your heart leaps and the butterflies come alive again only to die down once you realise why he might be there. For a child. Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that why people get married in the first place?

"Y/n." He sighs when he enters the room, almost out of relief. He purses his lips.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" You ask.

Oh, how badly he'd hurt you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, in your voice, in your mannerisms.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I have caused you pain and I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. But I hope you know that I really do love you and only you."

"Then why the distance? Why visit Concubine Jung every night?" You ask, hands on your hips.

The tears that had left you threatened to return again.

And he tells you everything. From the conversation he overheard to how insistently Concubine Jung asked him for a child to how much solid proof he'd collected over the months and how he'd sent those evidences to the Minister of Security, who in turn ensured that by tomorrow the Jungs will out of the palace and be imprisoned for life.

It all makes sense to you now, of course it does. Yet you feel guilty. He'd been trying to protect you, all this while.

"I'm sorry, Changbin. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I only-"

"Don't apologize, y/n. It's me that should apologize. I should have somehow tried to contact you and tell you about everything. I'm-"

"No, no, Please. Don't. You only tried to protect me and-"

"No, y/n, it's all my fault, please-"

Somi overhears the entire conversation through the door, her mind finally relaxing after the misunderstanding had been solved between you and the King. She could no longer stand you being this sad. And she somehow knew King Changbin had his own reasons for his behavior.

She hears soft sounds of kissing through the door and takes it as a sign to move away from the door, and join the other maids waiting outside the palace door. She smiles to herself.

The butterflies burn with passion.

"I do not wish for a child this early. I want to be here like this with you for a while, just y/n and Changbin and maybe two or three years later, we could try for a child. What do you think?"

When he kissed you initially, you half expected this to end up in the bed. But it did. And you're glad it did.

The butterflies bloom more than ever.

You're wrapped in his arms, tightly. The nakedness no longer bothering the either of you.

"I agree. I want to be this close to you every night, not as a Queen or the mother of your child. But as y/n. As your wife."

Changbin draws his face closer to you, pecking you on the lips, "And so you shall, my love."

And so you shall.

134 notes · View notes

loveneversleepss · 5 months

Text

Royalty Part 2

Pairing: Prince Felix x female reader, switched POVs, set after 2 years.

Warnings: smut duh with a plot ofc, unprotected sex(wrap before you tap), nicknames, cursing, death? Mental health issues, heartbreak lol, violence ig.

A/n: heheh ik you’ve waited for this so enjoy! Ps Daniel deserves sm better😭

W.C: 7000 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Felix?” My attention was brought back by Chan, he snapped his fingers which made me jump. “Are you okay?” Am I okay? I’ve been asking myself that for a long time.

I nodded my head and gave a reassurance smile, which was completely fake. He was talking to me about some duties I needed to attend to. I had to step up, as the widowed-crown prince, who was a better fit than a 7-year-old. I had to get over everything so fast, my bride who died on our wedding day, I was forced to forget about it. But I couldn’t, I simply could not. Because I would only love her and only her. “Are you even paying attention?” I dropped my hand against the desk which was holding up my head. “We need to find you another bride.” I became outraged, “what are you talking about?” He sighs and sits in front of me, “it’s been two years. We need a crown princess.” I stood up from my chair, “how could you ask something like this?”

“You are the most wanted husband in the land, you have ladies lining up for you.” This brings me back to before, when I was invited to the imperial palace for the first time, and saw her. “I don’t want another lady.” He groaned in annoyance which caused me to turn angrily, he spoke before thinking, “why can’t you just forget her?” I charged towards him, lifting my fist to him and gripping his shirt, but I caught myself. I let him go and sighed, “why do you think? She was murdered on our wedding day, I couldn’t save her. To this day I don’t know who murdered her.”

Her father refused to investigate her death, her assassin. He believed it wouldn’t let her soul rest, which he ordered no one to look into it or they would be killed. I looked at the jade ring on my finger, our wedding rings, I buried the other one with her. “I just want her back.” We were interrupted by a guard stepping inside, “his majesty would like a word alone.” I motioned for Chan to leave and the King stepped inside. “Your majesty,” I bowed and he bowed back, “Felix.” I sat down, but he insisted on not sitting with me. “It’s time we find you a bride.” I slumped defeated, unbelievable. The king had recently remarried after y/ns mother couldn’t handle the pain of her death. She killed herself. He chose to remarry only a month ago.

“It’s just hard, after everything.” He reached for my hand but I reluctantly moved. “I understand, but I did it. Which means you can too.” I held my breath as he was turning to leave, “just think about it.” Then he slithered away. I sat there for a while, thinking about everything that happened. I decided it was time I should go take a bath. I walked into my room and told my servants I wanted a bath. They left to prepare and would alert me when it was ready. Chan came running inside. “You won’t believe what I just heard.” I crossed my arms and stared, awaiting the information.

“I overheard a conversation the king had with his new bride.” He gets up and walks over to the station full of sweets and drinks. “She had a twin sister. She lived in the village, poor as mice. She was taken care of by undercover palace guards.” I frown my forehead and lean against the table in my room. It was y/ns, her room. I watched him pour a cup of tea for me, he set it down on the table in front of me, “I don’t drink tea.. Have you investigated this?” He sighs heavily, “there’s no record of her. Anywhere.” I stepped back, stunned, “how could there be no information on her?” He shrugged his shoulders, and sat down on the chair. “Maybe he didn’t want anyone to find out about her.” But why?

“I want you to investigate y/n’s past.” He raises an eyebrow, “I will be killed.” I shut my eyes and looked at him with annoyance, “not her death. Her birth. There must be a reason why her sister was sent away.” He nodded his head and bowed then disappeared. I was called away.

~~~

“It’s crazy.” I sat in disbelief on my bed, our bed. Chan ran into the room with grief news. “But it’s true. She was born from a different mother and that’s where the sister is.” I shook my head and my hands wiped my face, Chan’s eyebrows carefully moved to his emotions “but then why would the queen kill herself after?” He smacked his lips, “she raised y/n as her own. She couldn’t have children, or so she thought until she gave birth to Daniel. But the king bedded another woman secretly to have an heir.” I laid back into my bed and looked at the ceiling. “He sent away her sister to the mother to keep the affair quiet,” I concluded. Chan patted my chest and laid down with me. It was silent for a few moments until I sat up suddenly. “We have to find her.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “There’s no way we could pull that off.” I licked my lips and chewed on the inside of my cheek. There is a way. “The king wants me to find a bride, I could say I’m searching for one.” But of course where would I even take her? I can’t take her here. It would have to be back at my home, my mansion. “Send word to my mother that I will be returning for a few days.” Chan exclaimed softly as his bright smile beamed and he patted my back, “we’re finally going home.”

~~~

“Welcome back, Felix.” My mother held out her arms to me which I felt obligated to fall into. She rubbed my back softly and hummed, “it’s so good to see you.” I broke away and she cupped my cheeks, “how are you, lix?” I sighed and hung my head low, “I wish I could say better.” She paused and tried to lead me inside. “I have to do an errand before I enter, would you mind having the servants prepare my room?” It was an excuse not to talk about things, because I knew she would ask. She smiled and sent me off with a wave. I walked the streets alone, without Chan. I always loved walking down the market, watching couples and families enjoy themselves. I always wanted to do this with y/n.

I get a harsh shove into my right shoulder, a man apologizes without looking back. I rubbed my shoulder when I noticed a fabric dragging on the ground, from a woman covering her face. My fingertips brushed against it as it passed by me. It’s royal silk, a beautiful pink. How would a commoner have this? I watched the figure walk away silently, ducking her head down so as not to be noticed. I get curious and begin to follow behind her.

I easily got stopped and bumped into the crowd. I see her turn into a side street. Which I walked into at a distance. I’m standing in the middle, where she’s nowhere to be found. I turn to leave, and there she is. Standing in front of me with a dagger up to my face. “Y/n?” Her eyes squint and she looks me up and down, scanning me. “Who are you and why are you following me?”

~~~

He doesn’t speak for a few moments. He’s speechless as his mouth is gaping a little open. “Well?” I stick the dagger closer to his neck. He clears his throat, “you look like someone I knew.” I scoffed and tilted my head, “y/n?” His eyes widen, I hear a shuffle behind me but I keep my eyes on him. He moves swiftly and fast, he grabs the dagger from his throat and swings it behind me. A man groans from behind me and he pulls me behind him. “We have to get out of here,” I cling onto his shoulder, “now.” I have no time to react as we start running in the opposite direction. He leads back into the crowd of the market.

He grabs my headpiece and wraps it around his shirt. “It’ll be better if we hide in plain sight.” I frown as I stare at him. “More like exposing myself,” my face is completely open and more of a target now. He unwraps his own waist piece and pulls it over my head, it’s soft but not silky. “The pink gives you away, royal silk is obvious.” I pause and stop in my tracks. “How’d you know it was royal silk?” He brings up my wrist as my jade bracelet dangles down my arm. “Just like this bracelet which is only for royals.” He drags me alongside him as the crowd starts to settle down. “I’ll walk you home, lead the way.”

“How do you know I have royal clothing?” He sighs as he pulls us out of the main streets. “I’m a royal too. Crown Prince Felix.” I remain blank. “Which is why I know the design of this.” He points to my jade bracelet, the engraving of it. “My wife, she had the same so I should be asking you. How do you have this?” I don’t say anything as I take a step back. “Hello, Yuna. Nice to meet my sister-in-law.”

~~~

She sighs heavily and crosses her arms in disgust. “So you know who I am.” I analyze her clothing more closely. The beading on her dress was made with no flaws but now hanging off from the misuse. Her pinks and beiges collide perfectly with each other but blue strapped to her head make her look common. I lean against the wall on my shoulder, “it was obvious, you’re twins.” She rolls her eyes and looks away, I guide her chin to turn towards me gently. “You’re almost the same person,” I scan her face for any scars or moles that could depict that she’s different from y/n. But nothing. Her eyes engrave into mine, her lips the same shade of pink, eyes the same shape as hers. But she’s not her.

She snaps her chin out of my reach. “But we’re not,” she picks up her dress and begins to walk past me. I follow her as she leads the way. A man pops out in front of me and yells, “boo!” Chan pulls off his hood. Yuna jumps back a bit. “God, what’s wrong with you?” He laughs uproariously and I groan and shake my head in my hands. I hear her giggle a bit and he turns his attention to her. “Whoa, you found her?” Yuna raises an eyebrow and looks at me for confirmation, “you were looking for me?” I sigh heavily and nod, “wasn’t it obvious? I knew who you were.” She blanks her face out and walks away, while Chan and I exchange a look and follow.

A pair of children are playing in front of us and are throwing a ball. I see her body release from tension as she watches them as we approach. “I know my sister died,” it’s silent between us. She stops in her tracks and slowly spins to me. “But why does that have anything to do with me?” I bite the inside of my cheek, “it doesn’t. But I just wanted to know if it was true, that she had a twin sister.” She flexes her fists into a ball, “I heard you’re looking for a bride,” there’s anger in her voice. I walk past her with Chan by my side and she closely keeps up. After a couple moments, I mention, “I have no intention of marrying another woman, no one will ever replace her.”

I hear her footsteps stop in place. “Everyone's replaceable,” Chan and I turn, standing frozen, staring at her. Something about her eyes is so familiar, like I've looked into them before. Like they’re sad, on the verge of tears, like y/ns. It must be a twin thing. “I mean you shouldn’t live your life in the past, she wouldn’t want you to be alone forever.” The ball accidentally launches our way and the children run to us. They bump into her and I stop them. “Return the bracelet,” the children look at each other. She looks at me weirdly, “now.” The kids bow their heads and hand me the bracelet that they stole from Yuna. They immediately apologize and get on their knees. “It’s okay, stealing isn’t the answer.” I hand them a bag with coins from Chan, which they gladly accept.

They run off and I turn to Yuna, who is standing astonished. “You might want this back,” I walk to her silently, holding out her jade bracelet. She clings onto it tightly and pulls it onto her wrist. “You’ve helped me twice today,” my mind flashes back to y/n. Her voice in sync with my memory, “If you did have an intention of marrying, you would be a good husband.” The resemblance is too much. My eyes flash to her wrist, a mole in the exact spot. Her eyes drive into mine, she looks away, as if she realizes she said something she shouldn’t have. “It scares me how alike they are,” I whisper to Chan. She clears her throat harshly, “before I was interrupted… I was showing you to my place.” I nod my head as she sways past us, she takes a sharp turn which causes us to skip ahead.

“Don’t mind the mess,” she holds down a handle and the door creaks awfully open. She nods her head to enter, Chan begins to walk but she pushes him back by his chest. “Not you… him only.” Chan widens his eyes and scoffs at her, his head twists to me. I raise my head and shoo him away. “Just take a walk, get snacks or something.” He rolls his eyes and storms away. “I don’t really trust him,” she mumbled to herself as she walked inside. But it was clear to me. Why? What made her feel that way?

She led me to a room, one with a table on the floor and silk bedding. I presume it’s her room. The appearance of the outside is destroyed, but inside reveals a marvelous haven. There’s a shelf of books, books no ordinary girl would have. I reach out to grab one. “So my sister really did a number on you.” My hands freeze in motion and flutter to my side. “What do you mean by that?” She suddenly begins to cower, placing the pot on the table. “You’re the crown prince, by marriage right?” I sigh heavily and look at the seat in front of her. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it. It’s sort of illegal.”

I sit in front of her as she pours the liquid into a cup beside me. “What could I do? People don’t even know I exist.�� She munches on the cookie next to her. “Technically I’m not the crown prince.” Her brows furrow as she sips on her drink, “you know of her death, correct?” She chokes on her drink. She pats her chest and gasps, she stutters, “yes I know she’s.. gone. But not how it happened.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, dreading to relive the moments and explain what happened.

“She died before I could marry her, the morning of to be exact. She was murdered and I wasn’t allowed to investigate.” Her eyes drop into sorrow, deep with understanding and remorse for me. “You came to look for me, was it because you wanted to know more about her?” I shook my head, “no. I just wanted to see if the rumors are true, some part of me wishes it was her. But you’re not your sister, and I won’t imply you are anymore.” It’s silent between us. She reaches for her drink and stares at me, “you’re not drinking your tea?” I had forgotten all about it. “No, I don’t drink tea anymore.” The painful reminder of y/n, how she tried to make the world go away by it. Yuna bites her bottom lip as if tempted to say a secret.

I decided to try to get more information about her. “Have you ever met her?” Her eyes dart up to mine, eyes wide and she licks her lips to bide time. To utter simple words, “no.” I narrowed my eyes, “You never wondered to meet her? Not a single drop of curiosity?” I simply don’t believe it when she shakes her head no. I sit back a bit and smile unconvincingly. I sigh heavily, “I wish I could be more to Daniel.” When I brought up his name, I saw a slight twinkle in her, a glimpse of pain. It was something no one would easily notice, but it’s my job to recognize things. “Your little brother in fact, he was so destroyed by everything. The queen mother died of a broken heart by the death of y/n. I couldn’t comfort him, I was grieving myself.” My eyes begin to water without me being able to control it.

Her hand reaches over the table and clings onto my arm. “I’m so sorry,” her thumb rubs against me softly. “I had no idea how much it affected everyone.” My hand rests on hers, “you didn’t know. It’s alright.” I blink back my tears and wipe my face. She suddenly gets up from in front of me and comes by my side. She crouches to my level. She grabs the cloth that I used to conceal her and brushes it across my tear streams. “I don’t want you to hurt, I want to take your pain away.” Her words hit me so deep, so close to my heart. I wish she were y/n, so I could hold her close and kiss her. To have her in my arms again and never let her go.

His eyes slowly travel and wander into mine. “You can’t, only she can.” He slowly takes the cloth from my hands and into his lap. “You said I was like her, let me help you.” I cup my hands around his face, “treat me like I was her. Pretend I am her and let me handle the pain.” He furrows his brows confused and shakes his head, “why? You’re doing this because you pity me?” I frown and try my best to explain, “no, because you saved me and I want to repay you.” I lean in and admire him, his sun-kissed freckles and hazel eyes. Looking so deep into mine. “Just let go,” I feel his breath against my lips and inch my way slowly. Our lips don’t connect as he puts them against my neck and he groans, he pulls me away by my arms and just stares. Completely shocked and completely entranced.

He doesn’t wait to connect his lips again. He sighs as if he’s finally letting himself relax. He’s groping at my clothes and leading me into his lap. So hungry for comfort and love. He claws at my buttons and tries his best to softly undo them. It’s taking too long and my body is beginning to feel on fire. I could care less if he’s imagining my sister instead of me, I just want him. I break away from him and undo them myself, I try to lead him back but he pulls away. “Should we be doing this?” He’s out a breath already and salvaging his strength. I stand up and drag the dress down my shoulders, achingly slow. “I want this.” He shakes his head and his hands pull my dress back up. “I can’t do this,” he looks faint and white. He can’t shake that he knows that he’s been the only one to touch me. So, he couldn’t leave me impure and unwed. Even if it’s a secret.

~~~

My head is spinning and I can’t look at her straight. Her face drops immediately and she turns away to readjust her dress. “I didn’t come here for this, I came to take you. And now that I’ve touched you, I have to take responsibility for you.” She seems to wipe her face, and breathes harshly. “Take me where?” I let silence overcome us until she realizes. And turns towards me angrily, “you want to take me to the palace? You’re out of your mind!” I try to reason with her and explain but she shushes me. Her hand rolls off her hair in disbelief, “explain to me why I should even bother to go. My own sister died in that place, she was murdered! And no one is allowed to investigate or even question what happened!” Her hands bang against the shelf, and she lays her head against it. “I will not go there just to be killed for existing. Just for my presence.”

I walk to her cautiously, my hand hovers over her skin. The skin I was touching so recklessly earlier. I lightly took her arm to face me, “you don’t have to go. But I want to make sure you’re taken care of, and since I’ve seen you in that way… I have to keep my duty and respect, and marry you.” She smiled lightly at the words. Her eyes stare at the contact, she shrugs her shoulders and looks up. “You have to ensure I won’t get hurt, that nothing will happen to me, if I say yes.” I nod my head and show her a sympathetic smile. “I want to take you to my home first.” Her eyebrow raises and her eyes crease, “to your home?”

~~~

We arrive with Chan leading us. Her head is concealed and so am I. We walk inside and Chan looks around to see if the halls are clear. He instructs us to go and I grab a hold of her hand, rushing her into my room. “Make sure no one comes inside,” I whisper to Chan and order him to stand outside of the door. I turn and watch her wander around my room. She lets her hood slip down, “this is where you live, hm? Didn’t take it that you were a pampered little lord before royalty.” I smile awkwardly as she walks around the room, her hips sway as her dress follows her movements. Y/n always was graceful, her motions would flutter my heart and she was truly beautiful. She had such a way with her movements, a performer.

I grabbed the box from the table beside my bed, containing the matching wedding ring to mine. She noticed me standing awkwardly and walked to me. I made no action or effort to explain as I slipped the ring on her fingers. “It’s beautiful,” she admired the crystals. Blue and white diamonds. It fit perfectly as it slid on like butter. Looking just as it was on y/n. I walked away to face a nightmare awaiting me.

“Felix?” I snapped to the balcony, where Daniel is standing with tears and distraught. He begins to sob and runs to Yuna. “You’re alive!” He jumps into her legs, screaming with joy but she pushes him away. Pushes him so harshly that he falls to the ground. He falls with a thump and looks up at her, “y/n?” The scene hurts my heartstrings, and I can’t move, can’t explain. He scans her from head to toe. “It’s me- Daniel. Don’t you remember?” Her head hangs low and she tries to help him up. He crawls away from her, shaking his head. My legs finally move and I get him up from the floor. “Why are you doing this?” His eyes begin to tear up again and his bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know you-“ her voice breaks as she backs away. Her hand clings to her chest as she breathes hard. “How could you say that? I’m your brother, your little brother!”

He stomps his foot down and reaches out his hand, holding a book. “You would read this to me, every night you would read to me.” Her bottom lip is trapped between her lips. “Don’t pretend you don’t know me-“ Tears begin to flow down his cheeks. But she stands just staring at him, nothing behind her eyes. He drops the book at her feet, “I wish you didn’t come back, I wish you stayed dead.” I stared at Daniel as he said those words, it seemed to shatter something inside Yuna. She falls backwards onto the bed and Daniel runs out of the room. Chan runs inside and I yell to run after him.

~~~

Yuna wouldn’t speak to me after that. She didn’t eat for the rest of the day and Chan drew her a bath to soothe her. But when he tried to encourage her, she sent him away. She just sat on my bed, staring into oblivion. “Yuna, I’m going to take you to the bath.” She didn’t look at me as I picked her up into my arms. I walked her to the bath and tried to tell her to get in. “Please,” I begged and she finally looked at me. I turned away as she undressed and went in. The bath was built into the floor and was filled with aromas and petals. I turned once she was inside and scrubbed her back. She wouldn’t move and I tried my best to help her.

I put her to bed but she dressed herself. I made sure she would. She turned away from me in the bed. “Yuna, tell me what’s wrong.” A tear slid down her cheek and she broke out into sobs. She cradled the blanket into her chest. I rubbed her shoulder which caused her sleeve to fall down. I noticed a burn on her lower neck which was not there before. Then I noticed she stopped moving. “Yuna?” I shook her but she didn’t move. I rolled her to face me and she wasn’t responding. I yelled out to Chan to get help. No, no. This can’t happen again. I carried her in my arms and ran out with no regard for who would see her. Servants followed behind me and I couldn’t shake off their faces, their fear. I ran to the doctor’s quarters and placed her on the bed.

I ordered him to help her and he immediately ran to work. “Poison,” he muttered and my skin wanted to scream. It burned and ached and my heart began to lose its beats. I forgot how to breathe and the walls began to close in. My vision began to get dark as I clutched her hand. “Felix,” the doctor tried to call my attention. I blocked him out of my mind and focused only on her. The marking on her neck worsened and then a shine hit my eye. I pulled her sleeve to reveal a needle sticking from the hem, dripping was her blood mixed with a green substance and I knew it was placed on purpose. Chan ran in behind me and yanked me out of the way. He led me out of the room and in the hall. “Where were you?!” I roared at Chan and he stood speechless. “Where were you when this happened?” He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, that’s when I noticed it. A marking the same as Yuna’s.

My eyes narrowed at him and I faced the wall to hide my realization. “I don’t really trust him,” Yuna’s voice rings my head. It finally clicked for me, all of this. Y/n’s death, her assassination, the poisoned needle in Yuna’s clothes. Chan had just as much authority as me to enter and escape secretly. Just as much power to kill. But why? Why would he do this? I punched the wall and yelled. My father, it’s the only reason. He may be dead but his business will live on. He wanted to train me as an assassin. He wanted to gain control of me. What better way to do that by manipulating and controlling my closest advisor? Chan, what a traitor. You killed y/n. Didn’t you? And I won’t let you get away with it.

The doctor comes out and immediately brings me back to the situation. “We’re going to need an antidote immediately. She’ll die without it.” We don’t have the resources here to look for one or create one. I have to get her out of here. “Quickly get a carriage ready to the palace,” I ordered and everyone scrambled to hurry. I stayed by her side the whole way and she was struggling to breathe and clenched her hand against mine. I tried to calm her and tell her she’ll be okay. Her neck had begun to turn green and swell. I recognize this. Of course, it’s my father’s poison. I’ve never seen it but I’ve heard of its effects. As soon as we arrived, I recited the antidote to the royal doctor and he immediately injected the serum into her.

Her chest began to rise and fall normally. The swelling went down and the green disappeared. I sighed in relief and ordered everyone to leave the room. I sat alone next to her, holding her hand and crying. Her eyes opened with a flick and she mumbled a light, “Felix?” I gasped in delight and shushed her. I gripped her hand and kissed it. “You’re okay, thank god.” I whimpered with my head down. Shaking my head back and forth. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you died.” My voice is breaking and sounding pathetic, but I could care less. “I wouldn’t leave you again.” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Again? “I wouldn’t dare die on you again. I just got you back.” Got me back? “Sleep, get some rest.” That’s all I told her and tried to push away the mumbles.

She pulled me back in. “Don’t you see me, lix?” Her hand brushes on my cheek, pulls me and whispers, “it’s me, lixie.” My tears continue to flow down my cheeks while I stare at her. “You’re not in the right mind-” she cut me off. “I love you.” My heart drops and I shudder away from her touch. This is too much, all I can think of is y/n. “Stop.” I tremble onto my feet and she falls asleep. My head cannot handle this. I don’t know what to think and just leave. Is it true? Is all of it true?

~~~

I wake up with my head pounding and the room is dark. So very dark. My vision clears up and I realize I’m back in Felix’s room. I turn to see Felix in the corner. Huddled up in a ball on a seat. He notices I’m awake and sits up quickly. He clears his throat as I sit up too. “God, what happened?” He hands me a cup of water and I swallow it whole. “You were poisoned.” My mouth gapes open and my mind flashes to last night. “You were out for a couple days.” I begin to feel my blood rush to my head as I want to scream out. My palm rushes to my head to try to ease my headache. I’m trying to remember the lost time when he blurts out unbelievable words. “I won’t marry you.” My eyes dart towards his direction. “What are you talking about? You won’t marry me?”

He stands up angrily and crosses his arms. “I won’t marry you. I’m sending you back.” My eyes water and I try to blink them back. “But why? Is it because of the poisoning? Did I do something wrong?” He doesn’t face me now and his arms drop to his side. “No,” he says simply as if he doesn’t owe me an explanation. “Is it because of my sister?” He turns in fury to me. “You almost died!” My chest rises up and down heavily. I get up from the bed. “But I’m not! You can’t blame me and punish me for something that I had no control over!” His fists tightened, “and no one should blame me for not knowing who killed y/n!” I take a step back, “what?” I say in disbelief and almost breathless.

“I won’t let you die in vain, not like she did. I can’t let this happen.” I scoffed, “she didn’t die in vain. I know that because she wanted to be happy and she was. And you have to trust that the person who killed her will eventually be revealed.” His expression changes heavily, as if something had clicked in his mind. He takes small steps closer to me. “You claimed you didn’t know her, and as you said she wanted to be happy, as if you did meet her.” My expression goes blank. “I do know her killer will be revealed,” he sets his hands on my shoulders and leans into my ear, “because..” His words are a husky whisper in my ear. “You know who killed your sister. Because it was you at the beginning, y/n.”

~~~

I caught her, so perfect in a lie. She steps back while shaking her head, fear in her eyes. “You switched places with her.” Her hand clasped over her mouth, concealing a cry of realization. She is starting to hyperventilate, and she clings to her chest. “Please- let me explain.” I give her no chance, and approach her, “you let me think you died! Do you know the pain I went through?!” She sobs loudly now and closes her eyes. I shake my head and my hands clench into a fist. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her words are broken and full of heartbreak. She tries to calm herself down and explain, but I turn away.

“I switched places with her because I wanted her to experience being a princess and to be truly loved at least once… I wasn’t expecting her to die that day.” I snapped my head, “She said she loved me, as she lay dying in my hands.” I was screaming internally. Why? Why would she play with me like that? “She chose not to break her cover… for me.” She got on her knees in front of me, “please believe me. I had to keep playing like her, I couldn’t live in that place anymore.” I begin to tremble as I drop down too, “you couldn’t be with me? Be happy with me?! I would’ve treasured you and cared for you!” She breaks down even more and reaches for me. I reject her touch, “if you would’ve given me the chance. I would’ve made you happy.”

“Please, Felix. I’m still me!” A stray tear falls down my cheek and I struggle to swallow. “Felix, look at me!” She latches onto me and forces my head to her. “It’s me! Your y/n, your wife!” She rubs my cheek as she tries to soothe me, but it doesn’t. My heart feels as if it’s breaking. “You broke my heart, broke everyone’s heart. Daniel is suffering as much as me. And you think I can just forget that?” I bite my lip and hesitantly pry off her hands from me. “I can’t,” I walked away from her and out the door. I stood outside the door, holding it close and listening to her cries and pleas. It’s for the best.

I knocked on the door the next morning with maids following behind me. Y/n… She was sitting on the bed waiting. “Pack up her stuff and get her ready to travel.” She gasps in disbelief and stands up. “Leave us!” She says with such intensity the maids jump back. I nod at them to leave and they do. “Asshole!” I furrow my brows in confusion. She throws a pillow at me. Then a blanket. Then her shoes. All while yelling incoherent insults. Then she pushes me onto the bed while slapping and kicking me. Getting all her anger out. “How dare you try to send me away! I’m your wife. I love you and I want to be with you! I will not let you reject me!” I start to laugh, a real laugh. She stops in her tracks with a pillow above her head. She begins to giggle and smile when she notices I find her amusing.

“You’re hilarious,” she frowns and crosses her arms. “I’m supposed to be intimidating.” I sigh and she backs down and sits next to me on the bed. “Are you really gonna send me away?” She blinks at me with such hope in her eyes. “Give me a reason why I shouldn't.” She raises her shoulders at me in disbelief, “did you not hear my whole speech right now?” I smile and sit up. “What do I get out of this?” She throws the pillow at my head and tackles me. “A loving wife who listens to you!” I laugh again and watch her. She rests herself in my lap and it makes me anxious. She notices and gets self conscious too. “Are you not okay with this?” I look to the side, avoiding her gaze. I know I can’t say no to her, and she knows it too.

“Look at me,” she pulls my chin to her. “It’s me, lixie. Just as before.” Her hair is messy from all her playfulness. Her clothing is a beautiful shade of pink and hanging off her shoulders, her beautiful skin. So soft and smells of roses. Her beauty is unmatched and looks even more in this setting. Just us together. “You want to know what you get out of this?” I make eye contact with her and already know what she’s going to do. She begins to untie her dress and lets it slip off. I close my eyes and shutter when I feel her clothing slip down my legs and onto the floor.

~~~

He can’t avoid this. You won’t let him. You place his hands on your breasts and he gasps. “My god-” He whispers to himself and he can’t resist as his eyes open. He practically devours you with his gaze. “This is what married people do,” you begin to rock your hips against his covered length. He bites his bottom lip and whimpers. “The best part…” you begin to moan which causes him to get more comfortable. He lets out a sigh of relief, “making love.” He sits up and attaches his lips to your chest. Slowly traveling across your skin with wet kisses and getting to your breasts. You let out a moan of pleasure so loud, you feel almost embarrassed. Almost. But not enough to stop your hunger.

You yank his hair up so you can press your lips to him. He moans in your mouth and the feeling is incredible. Finally, After so long. You moan into his mouth and his hips push up into you, needing more. He grabs your hips and pushes you under. He begins to strip off his clothes with no regard. You take the opportunity to get more comfortable and drag yourself onto the pillows and under the sheets. “Come here,” he whispers and leaps next to you. You giggle and attach your lips again. He slowly thrusts inside you which causes you both to moan out loud. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles softly against your lips. “God, you feel so good.” He can’t help but snap up into you.

You moan breathlessly as he begins to take a rhythm. He stares into your eyes, so lustful and lovingly. He leans next to your ear, “my little princess huh?” His hand sneaks to your breast, pinches your nipple gently. “Thinking you could just get away with it?” He pinches it mercifully which causes you to whimper, “imma show you all that you missed.” His hand lets go off your nipple and gains a new target. His thumb circles your clit which causes you to let out a scream like moan. He starts to speed up his movements when you get more loud. You feel as if you could cry as your moans turn into whimpers. “Is my wife too fucked out, hm? Can’t take it?” Your body begins to twitch as you grip his arm. “Fuck, Lix. Just make me finish!” He laughs satisfactorily in your ear and licks it teasingly.

He covers your mouth as you get louder. “I love your noises but we don’t want anyone to interfere.” You roll your eyes as you feel the build up slowly being released. Your body snaps and it all let go, making you tremble and let out a final moan. He pulls out and watches the liquid fall out of you. He smirks at his masterpiece and pulls away but you grip his length. He winces and stares at you. You rub up and down his length, “I want you to finish inside me.” You place it at your entrance and he chokes down a smile. “Just can’t help yourself huh? Want my babies too?” He re enters and you whimper at the overstimulation. “I do, Lixie. I want your babies.”

He practically finishes at your words. It was so sudden, you laughed shocked. He moaned in your ear which made the butterflies in your tummy appear. “That easy huh?” You teased him and he laughed as he flopped on his side. He pulled you into his chest and held you tight. “I’m never gonna let you go again.” You smiled and drew hearts on his chest, “and I’m never gonna leave.” He clears his throat, “this might be a bad time but..” You look up at him. “I know who killed your sister.” I sit up confused. “Don’t worry, I took care of it already.” I blink at him blankly. “Why do you think Chan hasn’t been around?”

~~~

A/n: Thanks so much for the kind comments and waiting so long for this storyyy. But this isn’t the end. What if I told you they met again in another life? Well that story is for another day so.. Stay Tuned for “Mama’s boy!”

#stray kids #stray kids stay #stray kids imagines #stray kids series #straykids hard hours #stray kids smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #straykids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #skz #lee felix #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee yongbok smut

90 notes · View notes

justanotherrpmeme · 1 year

Text

Fake Relationship starters

"So, are we really going to pretend to be a couple?"

"It's just for show. We need to convince everyone that we're in love."

"Do you think we can pull this off? I mean, we barely know each other."

"We'll have to practice and create a backstory that seems believable."

"What if we accidentally catch real feelings for each other?"

"This is all part of the charade. Emotions can't get in the way."

"I'm not sure I can handle all the fake kisses and affection."

"Think of it as a performance. We have to make it convincing for others."

"We need to be more convincing, show more affection in public. Make it seem real."

"It's temporary. We'll get through it and then go back to our normal lives."

"What if we have to meet each other's families?"

"We'll have to prepare well-rehearsed stories and act like we've been together for a while."

"I'm worried about getting caught in a lie."

"We just have to be consistent with our stories and avoid slip-ups. We'll be fine."

"I never expected this fake relationship to become so complicated."

"We knew it wouldn't be easy, but we're in this together. We can handle it."

"What if people start asking us personal questions about our relationship?"

"We have to be prepared with evasive answers or quickly change the subject. Keep it vague."

"I'm starting to forget what's real and what's fake."

"Remember, this is just a temporary arrangement."

"This fake relationship is starting to feel strangely real."

"We need to keep reminding ourselves that it's all an act."

"Do you think anyone suspects that our relationship is fake?"

"As long as we play our parts convincingly, no one should question it."

"I never thought pretending to be in love could be so exhausting."

"It's mentally and emotionally draining, but it will be over soon."

[text]: "Hey, don't forget we have that 'couple's dinner' tonight. Let's make sure our acting skills are on point!"

[text]: "Remember, we need to coordinate our stories about how we met. Let's come up with a believable backstory."

[text]: "I just got asked about our future plans together"

[text]: "We should plan a 'date' night to keep up appearances. Dinner and a movie, perhaps?"

[text]: "Any ideas on how we can make them look convincing?"

[text]: "Our friends are getting suspicious."

[text]: "I heard someone asking if we're serious about each other."

[text]: "Let's plan a weekend getaway to make our fake relationship seem more authentic. A romantic destination should do the trick."

[text]: "We have a 'meet the parents' event coming up. We should discuss our roles and make sure we're on the same page."

[text]: "I just got invited to a wedding. Should we attend as a couple? It could be a good opportunity to practice our act."

[text]: "I overheard someone saying they think our relationship is fake. We need to step up our game and prove them wrong."

[text]: "We should have a 'couple's game night' with our friends."

[text]: "We should create a fake anniversary date and celebrate it publicly. It'll make our relationship seem more authentic to others."

[text]: "I have an idea for a fake argument in front of our friends. It'll make us seem more like a real couple with ups and downs."

#rp starter #rp ask #starter meme #ask meme #rp meme

183 notes · View notes

cr3sswellsgf · 5 months

Text

bachelor - maiko week '24 day 1

prompt: wedding

Zuko and his friends had had no specific expectations for the former’s bachelor party, but they certainly hadn’t expected this.

The party was in full swing, with his friends from all over the world attending, but Zuko was frankly very over it. He had originally wanted this to be a smaller, more private affair. With him being the firelord and everything, he felt like got his fair share of extravagant parties with too many attendees.

Not that this was in any way comparable to the luxurious galas he hosted and attended, of course. There was far too much… debauchery here for that.

But I digress.

‘This’ being Zuko drunkenly and incessantly complaining about ‘missing Mai’ and ‘being over this bachelor party thing’. His argument was that he hadn’t been a bachelor since the age of, like, fifteen, so this was essentially completely unnecessary. He’d much rather have stayed in with his beautiful fiancee tonight to prepare himself (mostly mentally, honestly) for their wedding, but, knowing him, he would have just spent those last few hours stressing over nonsensical things, so Mai had insisted on him throwing a bachelor party.

Of course, he said yes to her. To exactly no one’s surprise.

Presently, he could be found slumped in a chair doing something that can only be described as sulking. You know, with the hunched shoulders and the pouted lips and all. He’d miraculously extricated himself from a crowd of party-goers he vaguely knew—he assumed they were probably friends of a distant relative thrice removed, or something—and escaped back to his best friends, Sokka and Aang, secluded in a little corner away from everyone else. He knew he’d regret making Sokka in charge of the invitations. He didn’t even know half of these people!

“I miss her,” he complained again for what seemed like the millionth time, speech slurred from the liquor he’d consumed. “I wonder what she’s doing right now.” He was positive he looked very un-Firelord like, but he couldn’t really find it in him to care at all, unfortunately.

“I’m always shocked at how much of a lightweight he is,” Sokka murmured to Aang, amused at their friend’s antics, and drained the last of his fireball whiskey. “How much longer do you think he’s gonna last before blacking out?”

Aang laughed good-naturedly over his glass of soda, “No idea.” He grinned. “Won’t be much of a question of how long he’s lasting if this keeps up, though, if he ditches his party. He’s clearly ready to get back to Mai.”

Sokka snorted, “Don’t act like you weren’t the same way back when… honestly just everyday, actually.”

Aang laughed again, but this time with a dopey lovesick grin. Him and Katara had gotten married a few months back, and since then, he’d proudly carried the title of Katara’s Husband. In fact he’d taken to introducing himself as such, much to people’s confusion, because why in hell would the Avatar not introduce himself as exactly that?

He shrugged. “Guilty as charged!”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“Mai!”

Finally, finally, the party had ended.

Don’t get him wrong, Zuko really had enjoyed himself, being surrounded by the closest people to him (and their plus-two’s) (blame Sokka), all gathered to celebrate him. But frankly? Enough was enough. His social battery was thoroughly drained, and he was very ready to fall into his comfortable bed. Preferably in the arms of his wife-to-be.

“Hi, darling.” She smiled when she saw him, supported by Sokka and Aang. She rolled her eyes affectionately. Clearly, he’d overestimated his limits and had too much to drink. As usual.

He shook them off and walked towards her, engulfing her in a hug as soon as he was close enough.

“I missed you,” he breathed, kissing the top of her head repeatedly and swaying side to side with her against him, his strong arms kind of just resting on her shoulders and around her head, holding her close to his chest. Although he wasn’t necessarily stingy with his affections, inebriated Zuko was much more brazen. Much to her satisfaction.

He briefly loosened his hold on her to tilt her head up. She had to crane her neck much more to look at him now. Over the past few years, he’d grown taller and just… bigger. In many ways. Although he wasn’t bulky by any means, since his style in bending and martial arts favoured a leaner build to aid in the fast, precise movements, he’d certainly filled out over the years.

He cupped her cheeks, almost squeezing her face, and stared at her with an adorably awestruck expression. She stared back, one eyebrow arched in a mix of amusement and confusion.

His eyes roamed over her pale face. Everything about her was beautiful. From the rows of dark, long lashes that rimmed her slanted golden eyes, to her pointed nose and pink tinted lips.

“Is something the matter?” she asked, her words slightly muffled from his hold on her face. “You’re staring.”

His face broke into a boyish, lopsided grin, and his voice took on a playful lilt. “And you’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks pinked, and before she could think of a response, he leaned down and captured her lips in a loud, smoochy kind of kiss.

And then another. And another. And another.

“Gorgeous,” he said against her lips between kisses. “Incredible.” Another kiss. “Brilliant.” A kiss. “Devastatingly beautiful.” Kiss. “I can’t get enough of you.” Kiss. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Kiss. “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love—”

“Okay, okay!” She pushed him away from her, her face burning. She was positive her skin was the colour of her robes. Clearly, inebriated Zuko was also very dramatic. “You can’t just say these things,” she murmured, averting her eyes in embarrassment. Her heart was beating entirely too fast for comfort—he really needed to stop making her feel these embarrassingly mushy, sappy, and entirely too positive emotions. At least not in public.

She was suddenly all too aware of Aang and Sokka’s presence. Great.

She groaned, putting her face in her hands. He laughed, pulling her into him again. “God, for how deadly you are, you really are adorable.”

She melted into him. She supposed she could really see herself marrying this guy.

#atla maiko #maiko #pro maiko #mai #zuko #maiko fic #maiko fanfic #fluff #oneshot #maiko week 2024 #tooth rotting fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #wedding #writing prompt

23 notes · View notes

arcaenawrites · 11 months

Text

Enchanted to meet you

———————

Neuvillette x fem!reader

———————

Another aristocratic party filled with single nobles looking for a partner, but no one has ever caught your eye. That is until you lock eyes with a white-haired stranger and everything else just disappears.

Yes this story is inspired by Taylor Swift’s “enchanted”. Yes I am a big Neuvillette simp. Someone please help me ;-;

———————

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you sigh. Your parents have been set on finding you a suitor of proper noble standing, since you have yet to be wed to someone since you’ve come of age. This has led them to send you to countless parties filled with single nobles just to find a match for you. You however, despised it. None of them could ever understand that you’re not just an object. Men appear to be terrified of women who can think for themselves. That’s probably why you haven’t received a lot of proposals yet. This however, wasn’t the usual type of party. Yes, a lot of single nobles were attending, but it wasn’t specifically a party to mingle. It was to celebrate our archon Focalors, and honor her. It was our way of showing our loyalty to the archon. Usually my parents were the ones attending, but this time they decided to send me in. God, I know their plans.

So here you were, waiting for the maid to come over with the dress your parents prepared for you. Although you disliked the parties, wearing the dresses is something you’ve always quire adored. They tend to make you look like a goddess after all. While waiting for your maid to arrive, you start to wonder what kind of dress your mother has picked out. When the door opened, you gasped. It was absolutely beautiful. It was a pearly white, with blue accents to match the hydro archons’ colors. A beautiful bow on the back had room for your vision, which to no ones surprise is a hydro vision. Your maid helps you into it, and you take a spin. It was absolutely perfect. The maid then finished your hair and makeup, and you once again managed to look like a goddess. The archons should be jealous. Once you were ready, you were guided to the carriage that was waiting to bring you to the palace. Perfect timing, you are punctual as always.

You were lucky your parents are high ranked nobles, it meant you got to live in the capital and only had to travel 15 minutes by carriage. You preferred the longer rides though: you’d get to see the outside world your parents never allowed you to visit. As you were looking out the window, you saw the familiar fence of the building enter your sight. It was time to put on your mask and mentally prepare you for the party. The archon surely is an experience after all. Then, like clockwork, you arrive and as you show your invitation, you get allowed into the building. You politely thank them, and make your grand entrance. Turning heads as always, you simply make your way to the banquet, deciding the delicacies are the only reason why this is worth it.

Suddenly a tall man stands behind you, looking at the delicacies you’re enjoying. In your mind you roll your eyes, mentally preparing to reject another proposal.

“Lady Furina truly is a master at picking delicacies, isn’t she?” A gentle, deep voice speaks behind you. You quickly counter his words. “She surely does know how to make a party worth going to.” Your comment makes him smile, and you continue eating the delicacies. “You do not spend your time around the other nobles. Why do you choose not to?” he asks you curiously, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “All they think about is marriage and producing heirs, they lack the braincells needed to converse with me.” you say, amuse in your voice. The playful conversation starts, as you throw around slick remarks at each other. He isn’t like any of the other nobles you’ve met. He is intelligent, maybe a little too intelligent. But you like that, you finally have someone you can converse with properly, who isn’t turned away by your own intelligence. You had no idea who this mysterious man was, but you wanted him. For the first time ever, you were attracted to someone. After a while of conversing, the dancing starts and he asks you to join him for a dance. You agree, and as the dance starts, you find yourself matching him perfectly. You danced around like you have practiced together your entire lives. It left some people staring, even going as far as to stop dancing themselves just to watch the chemistry between the two mystery nobles. Who was this man, you wondered, wishing you could know already.z Sadly, it was a masked ball, so there was no way to find out. That is, until the clock strikes midnight and everyone has to take off their masks.

But like fate designed, about half an hour before midnight, you got the news your father fell ill, and you had to return back immediately. You apologize to your mystery man, and turn to leave. While walking away, you look back at him once more, feeling enchanted as you dance your way to the exit as to not raise suspicion as to where you were going. You exit the party, and enter your carriage. As you are on your ride home, you catch yourself blushing. This mysterious man, who you have only met tonight, already has you in a tight grip. Sadly, you had no way of finding out who he was. Oh, the things you would do to hear that voice again. It was deep, stern, but gentle. It was mysterious, yet familiar. You could almost swear you heard that voice before. But alas, you couldn’t place it. As you arrive home, you rush to your fathers’ side. Though he didn’t look great, the doctor assured you that he would recover, and you had nothing to worry about. And of course, as soon as the talking with the doctor was finished, your parents turned to you and your mother starts speaking. “We know we pulled you away from the party early, we’re sorry for that. If it wasn’t for your father falling ill.. we really hoped you’d find a candidate for marriage today. But alas, I think we’ll have to arrange a marriage for you ourselves. We know you don’t like it, but you have to continue our bloodline and produce an heir.”. Hearing the last sentence, your face turns into one of disgust. “Mom, you know I don’t want that.”. But you knew fighting was pointless. That is, if you still refused to meet anyone. “I met someone at the masked ball. I do not know who he was, but he is the one I wish to marry.”. You say, a stern look on your face. Your mother gasps, and starts asking all about your night while your father simply nods at you. You tell her all about the mysterious, white haired man and how you’ve become absolutely smitten with him. Your mom decides that she’s going to look for the man of your dreams, jumping at any chance to marry you off to some other noble.

The entire night you are left wondering who he was, if he was just as enchanted to meet you as you were to meet him, if he had his eyes on someone or perhaps even was promised to someone already. You wanted him, you needed him. Did he want you too? God, it was 2 am and here you were questioning everything over a man whose name you didn’t even know. Over the course of the next few days, you spent your time fussing around trying to find the man. That is until your parents send you off to the court of Fontaine to witness a trial, and you’re once again dressed all pretty to do some boring noble thing. It supposedly is a pretty big and important trial, something about the disappearances of girls? It made you wonder if it was even safe to go. Regardless of that, you promised your parents you wouldn’t complain anymore as long as they let you look for the mysterious man. You step into the carriage and head to the opera epiclese, and enter the building, looking for your seat. Once everyone is seated, the show begins. Because that’s what these trials are. One big show. Then, the iudex enters and takes his seat. You gasp. The moment you see his eyes, it brings you back to the night of the masked ball. You have to get him this time, you can’t let him go again! So you sit through the trial, unable to pay attention to anything but the iudex. The trial passes, and you rush out hoping to catch him. You wait, and wait, and wait. By now everyone else has left, and a melusine walks up to you. You’re not paying much attention, but she’s basically begging you to go and leave. That is, until someone walks in and asks her if everything is alright. You look up, eyes wide and a bright blush on your face. It’s him.

The moment his eyes meet yours, his posture changes. “It’s.. you..” he says, a hint of disbelief in his voice. You hurriedly stand up and look him straight in the eyes. “I was hoping this day would come.. no one was able to tell me the name of the noble lady I danced with that day, or where she went when she fled.” He smiles with a genuine kindness. Your heart skipped a beat. “I’ve tried looking for you, yet I couldn’t find a single trace.” He admits, and you tell him about the time you spent thinking of him, dreaming of him, trying to find him and the questions you had about him. The two of continue talking for hours, lost in conversation. You lost track of time, and eventually the driver of your carriage stormed past a guarding melusine, angry at you for making him wait this long. The iudex glares at him and sends him home, promising he’ll see you home safely. He takes you out to dinner, dancing, and what is simply the perfect date. Eventually, you walk to the streets of Fontaine together, getting a few weird looks from people. After all, the iudex is rarely seen on the streets. After a while, he takes you to your home. Standing in front of your door, he turns to you. Without thinking, he leans forward and kisses you. Not a second of doubt in your heart, as you kiss him back. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

It was then, that he gets on one knee. “Now that I’ve found you again, I refuse to let you go. I was absolutely enchanted to meed you. Will you make me a happy man and be my wife?”

And with your parents watching from the doors, your answer stands.

“Yes.”

———————

Please request more character oneshots istg writing is my coping mechanism rn

#neuvillette #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin romance #romance #fluff #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you

126 notes · View notes

noodlesfics · 2 years

Note

If you are still taking requests, I would love to see headcanons about Erwin being in a secret relationship with a (scout) reader and then how he reacts when people find out, I think it would be funny XD (also idk what genders you write for but if you could write this for a male or gender neutral reader that would be great 💞)

Totally no pressure though, feel free to ignore this if it’s not to your liking ^^

Erwins reaction to everyone finding out about your secret relationship

A/N~HI MY LOVE, I WRITE FOR ANY GENDER THAT PEOPLE WANT! I MAINLY STICK TO WRITING IN GENDER NEUTRAL SO THAT IT APPLIES TO ANYONE, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ❤️

He wanted to keep your relationship a secret so that it wouldn't disrupt with your work, also because you both knew a certain glasses wearer would freak the fuck out. And it was certain that you were both not mentally prepared for that moment.

You both knew you couldn't hide it forever, it was hard enough to spend quality time with one another due to the sheer amount of work that you had to do. Especially with Erwin as a Commander and you as a Lieutenant, you only really saw each other in meetings and it was really starting to bother both of you.

It was late at night when you headed down to the empty hall to get your dinner. However, you didn't expect to see Erwin there either eating his missed dinner. You both ate together and enjoyed each others company, not knowing when the next time you will be able to do this will be.

You were both sharing a kiss when the main doors opened, you both broke apart in hopes that no one saw, but that was not the case.

The most high pitched scream erupted throughout the hall, waking every single person up.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD! I KNEW IT, LEVI GET YOUR SHORT ASS DOWN HERE YOU OWE ME MONEY!!!"

It was a surprise to say the least. Due to Hange's god awful screaming, large swarms of people began to appear in the hall to see what all the noise was about. You both just sat there, red in the face and not knowing what to do.

Immediately, people began to realise what was happening. Hange was in a burst of energy and was running laps around the premises whilst continuing her excited screaming.

Levi soon appeared and was not happy with the fact that Hange was right.

"You stupid brats! You just cost me most of my savings aswell as the fact that shitty four-eyes was right!" He was so angry.

As much as he didn't want to admit it though, he was happy to see you two together and happy as one.

"WHEN IS THE WEDDING!? Oh lord, I need to buy my dress! Petra let's go, we are going DRESS SHOPPING!!" God bless the walls she needs to calm down. All the shops were closed due to the fact that it was nearly 1AM and the nearest town was miles away. That didn't stop her though, she stayed all night and purchased a dress.

Everyone was shocked that the Commander and Lieutenant were in a relationship. This was the most exciting gossip that they had heard in months. This was definitely shocking.

Soon enough, to both of your reliefs, Levi literally kicked everybody put of the hall so that you could spend some time together.

You looked at Erwin and you both could not help the smiles appearing on your faces. It was sooner than you would have likes your relationship to be made public, and it was not announced in the most ideal way. However, it felt like a massive relief to be able to be seen with each other and not arouse suspicion.

"Can you guys not kiss in front of me? That's fucking disgusting."

The next day...

Hange came back with both her and Petra's bridesmaid dresses. You kept telling her that you weren't getting married, your relationship was just made public.

She wasn't having it.

"Y/N, I don't care. I have my dress and am expecting an invitation pronto!" Looks like your having a wedding now.

What you didn't know was that she got specially made dresses for Sawney and Bean.

#anime #aot x reader #erwin smith #erwin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #hange zoe #wings of freedom #secret relationship #secret

96 notes · View notes

tangylemonade · 2 years

Text

Middle With You

𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝚡 𝚐𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

⚠︎︎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 in a private area. (𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚍𝚍 ☺︎︎)

𝟷𝟾+ 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙽𝙸

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝟷.4𝚔

♡ My dear 𓆉 anon I am so so so sorry for the wait. I feel so bad because you requested a fic like months ago and I only just now wrote it. I was on break at work and I remembered that I hadn’t finished writing so I tried to finish it quickly because I’m going on hiatus for a month tomorrow (lol as if I haven’t been MIA for basically the whole 2023). Anyway that’s all to say I’m sorry for the delay and I know this isn’t good so I own you one and an apology. Either way I’d love to know what you think! I hope you’re having a great day! ♡

The wind brushed across your skin and fluttered the fabric of your clothes around your body. Your toes curled in the soft grass. Taking a deep breath, you centered yourself while the sun warmed your wind chilled skin. You felt strong arms wrapping around your waist and you leaned into the embrace closing your eyes.

“Do you like it?” Hanbin softly asked you. He pulled you even closer, cuddling you.

“It’s lovely! How did you find this place?” You said excitedly, turning around and facing him.

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” He chuckled before kissing your face. Your nose scrunched at the ticklish feeling, your adorable expression melting his heart.

Hanbin couldn’t help but mentally applaud himself for planning this. You always talked about how much you loved nature and wanting to go camping. You would tell him stories about how back home you would always go camping in this hill that you were certain only your family knew about. Ever since you moved you missed those moments.

He had spent weeks looking for a place like the one you showed him in photos and everything else working itself out was pure luck.

The weather was beautiful and the smile on your face was worth every moment he spent traipsing up and down landscapes. This particular piece of land is owned by the sweetest elderly couple who were happy to rent it out when Hanbin told them about why he wanted to surprise you. Their only condition was that they got invited to the wedding.

He spent the morning setting up the camp site while you walked around in bliss. Every now and again you would try to come help him and he would send you away. After the tenth time of him scolding you, you gave up and went to enjoy the view.

You couldn’t believe he actually found a place like this. Everything was perfect. The butterflies were friendly, the birds were singing, the grass was soft and smelled sweeter than the nectar from the flowers that ruffled in the wind.

Once Hanbin had finished up he led you back over to the campsite. He beamed with pride at the look of joy on your face while he showed you everything he prepared.

The tent was cozy and the cooler he brought was packed with food and your favorite wines. He had prepared a picnic basket with lunch and you guys would cook dinner together later.

“You can pick the spot.” He said picking up the basket.

“Oh!” Your eyes lit up as you grabbed his hand and pulled him along. “I know just the place.”

You couldn’t stop smiling as you dragged him back up the hill you marveled at moments ago. From up there you could see across the way where the owners kept horses and even a little stream where frogs had gathered to play.

Hanbin laid out the blanket and you helped him unload the basket.

Sitting down you popped a grape in your mouth. Hanbin laid his head on your lap opening his mouth as he waited for you to give him one as well.

“Sit up first, I don’t want you to choke.”

He laughed but repositioned himself on your lap so he was leaning against your chest. He opened his mouth again and you fed him the long awaited grape. You continued on that way with you feeding him while you told him about your stressful week. He listened intently while he took in the beautiful way your face lit up with every expression.

Hanbin suddenly sat up and pulled out a banjo from the basket. His fingers strummed away at a tune while he hummed along to the melody forming in his head. You were used to him and you knew right away that a new song was spinning around in the genius brain of his. Without him having to ask you pulled out your phone and recorded a voice note for him.

“I like it. It’s pretty!” You said while clapping when he was done.

“I was thinking of you.”

Blush bloomed in your face and you looked away, unable to hold his heart fluttering eye contact for much longer. He set down his instrument and his fingers smoothly slipping between yours.

“Did I mention how stunning you are?”

You looked back at him, your blush still raging in your face.

You caressed his face, gazing into his sunset kissed eyes.

“Thank you for this. I really needed to get away and clear my head. This is all so perfect.” You said, never looking away from his eyes.

“You deserve it. And besides I needed this too. Just me and you. We don’t get time like this often.”

“So…” you said, a mischievous look now twinkling in your eyes.

“So…?”

“What should we do with all this time?”

Hanbin could feel the shift in mood with the way you looked at him with hunger.

“I can think of a few things.”

You smirked as you slid your hand up his leg.

“Really?”

He caught your hand, pulling you closer to him as he laid back on the soft grass.

He gazed up into your eyes, his fingers softly grazed your cheek before playing in your hair and resting behind your neck.

His lips ghosted across yours as he took a moment to savor your presence. When his warm lips finally embraced you you felt the warmth spread through, igniting in your core. You leaned into the kiss, swallowing his every movement.

Hanbin's hands danced along your body as he tried to see just how much of you he could hold at once. Your fingers combed through his soft hair as you let his touches consume your every sense.

His fingers caught onto your zipper and the next moment you were laying atop him bare. The gentle breeze caressed your back but it was the way Hanbin's strong hands felt against you that sent shivers through your body.

Holding on to you he rolled you over. Now sitting up he pulled off his shirt before he finished pulling your clothes off of you. A moment hadn’t before you felt his lips hot against your chilled skin. Your perked nipples, a focus of his attention along with your collarbone he always marked with love.

At some point he had completely striped down and you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Your heart skipped beats in anticipation. Lifting your legs around him you shamelessly begged him to fill you. Feeling just as desperate, he didn't bother to tease.

Hanbin held onto your hips, lifting you closer to him. The feeling of him slowly filling you was already enough to send stars scattering through your mind. His emotions mirrored yours as he felt your warm walls tight around him. Both of you were completely lost the moment his hips moved against you.

You held onto him as you tried to process the moment all while his every stroke sent your mind spinning wild.

“H-Hanbin…ah” you mindlessly muttered.

The way you said his name was dangerous and the only response he could manage was a grunt against your sweet skin. His mind was consumed by the way you squeezed around him. The was your soft kiss bitten lips pouted with delicious sounds hanging from them. The way your lust flushed cheeks glowed in the parting sun. The way your lush body felt against his.

“I’m so close….” You moaned as your climax approached.

“Let go baby.” He whispered in between dustings of feather-like kisses and soft moans.

Coasting along his sweet voice you let the waves of pleasure crash against you in pulses. Your breath was knocked out of you as he chased his own high which followed soon after.

The haze of pleasure faded away and he pulled out of you before resting next to you.

You rolled onto your side facing him and he followed suit, your hands naturally grasping each other.

His deep brown eyes now weighed heavy with satisfaction as he traced your features in his mind. Your eyes fluttered as you fought to stay awake and you two eventually headed back down to the tent to avoid falling asleep in the grass.

The warmth of the setting sun bathed the moment in golden love as Hanbin held you as close as possible.

If you liked this click HERE for more!

🔁 Don’t forget to reblog if you enjoyed, it helps a lot! 🔁

#🍋’s thoughts #🍋’s 🐢 anon #🐢 anon #hanbin smut #hanbin scenarios #kim hanbin scenario #kim hanbin smut #kim hanbin #hanbin imagine #request #🍋’s moots #🍋’s requests #🍋’s creations #b.i.#b.i. smut #kpop solo artist #kpop smut #Spotify

47 notes · View notes

beansnpeets · 1 year

Text

This gets real pity party, be warned. Turn back now.

Next weekend is Jon's cousin's wedding. Unfortunately on the same day is stock car invitationals. If I was going to shoot only one stock car weekend all year, it would be this one. However, I won't make it on the Saturday and honestly I don't think I'm going to shoot it at all. I have shot 2 weekends so far this year and only sold one photo. It's just not worthwhile for me to shoot more. There's no money in it. I'm pretty disappointed. I'm also still frustrated that the club hasn't shared any of my posts, despite that they literally asked me if they could. Like did they really think I was going to let people have photos for free? Or even cheap?? I'm good at what I do and I know that. I'm not the best, by any means, but I'm certainly better than someone with an iphone. My equipment certainly cost me more and my formal training definitely did, too.

I'm frustrated that there is no love for quality photos anymore. People think anyone can take photos. They have no idea what goes into it. I love photography as an art. It's my favourite thing in the whole fucking world. And I keep trying to pursue it and I keep being let down by how little people care. I stopped posting on instagram ages ago because I was getting no love there.

I do photography primarily for myself, but it would be really nice if I could make some money on it, too. I'd really like to do more of it, but I can't afford to if I can't get people to pay me. And like never mind the money, I just wish people would enjoy it with me.

Like this photo is cool as fuck, but nobody is going to buy it.

I don't mean to just be all down on myself, but it's hard not to be. The only people that care about photography as an art and want to buy photos are people that are also photographers because they understand what goes into a good photo.

This is my favourite photo from that race weekend. The guy that owns that car was going to buy it when he thought he could get digital photos cheaper than prints. He initially wanted this and two other photos. When I posted the digital listing he bought one photo and honestly it was my least favourite one.

I'm just so disappointed. I'm so fucking disappointed that the thing I love to do more than anything is meaningless to everyone else.

Here comes a spiral, but like I'm the most alone I've ever been in my life. I'm preparing to leave a 5 and a half year relationship, I am entirely excommunicated from my whole family, my friends hardly speak to me or make time to see me, and I'm living in a town that I did not grow up in and is incredibly isolated and rural. I am SO alone. Even with my art. Even with the internet. I feel like I'm floating in a void. I feel like I am screaming into the void and I can hear other things going on beyond the void, but I can't reach them and they don't reach me.

Like this got fucking dark, I'm sorry, this is insane and I'm probably not all that mentally stable right now, but like what the fuck. There's just nothingness. All these things that matter to me are just pointless. My photography makes me happy, but I try to share it with others because I'm trying to connect with other people and it doesn't work. Nobody else cares. There's no love. Like you hear phrases along the lines of you get back what you put out into the world, but....when am I going to get back what I am putting out into the world? Because I feel like I've been scrambling and screaming and begging for something and trying to put out love and good things and yet I'm not getting any back. I'm just alone. Lately life has just been feeling so pointless and lonely. Most of the time I don't care and I'm fine being alone, but then when I actually look at how much I am trying to reach out to other people and connect and see how ignored I am and have literally always been it really gets to me. And it's been like this my entire life. I've always been forgotten or left out or ignored. It sucks so fucking much.

#personal

11 notes · View notes

waitingforwinterwinds · 1 year

Text

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 06 SANSA I (pages 75-90)

Sansa is invited to lunch with Margaery, Olenna, and the cast of Tyrells cut from the show.

The reader is grumpy the entire time. :(

Joffrey had met his new bride-to-be at the King's Gate to welcome her to the city, and they rode side by side through cheering crowds, Joff glittering in gilded armor and the Tyrell girl splendid in green with a cloak of autumn flowers blowing from her shoulders. (...) The people called out her name as she passed, held up their children for her blessing, and scattered flowers under the hooves of her horse. Her mother and grandmother followed close behind, (...) The small folk cheered for them too.

And ain't this a stark difference between the procession after seeing Myrcella off.

I appreciate the mention that Joffrey's armor is gilded, just for the symbolism of it. To be gilded is to be covered in a thin layer of precious metal, to look more valuable than it is. Joffrey's the same way. A gilded prince, shiny and noble on the outside, but a dime-a-dozen rotting on the inside.

The same smallfolk who pulled me from my horse and would have killed me, if not for the Hound. Sansa had done nothing to make the commons hate her, no more than Margaery Tyrell had done to win their love.

Mmmm, but it's all about the narrative. Sansa was by Joffrey's side when the people were starving, it didn't matter that she was a hostage, that she was being beaten and abused, she was a noble and had their privilege to food. Margaery is with the people who are finally giving them food, doesn't matter that she was married to Renly, or that the alliance resulting from that was responsible for the food shortage to begin with. (ignoring in city food storage prep, which would have taken a hit anyway.) Personal circumstance of nobles doesn't matter to the smallfolk, only the current visible result. Same's true of most folks though.

No one can save me but my Florian. Ser Dontos had promised he would help her escape, but not until the night of Joffrey's wedding. The plans had been well laid, her dear devoted knight-turned-fool assured her; there was nothing to do until then but endure, and count the days.

That's... concerning.

I like that Sansa is being suspicious of Margaery's motives, but for her to turn around and think this... it's concerning. Perhaps mostly because we know Dontos is a creepy pervert who probably shouldn't be trusted (even if his escape plan is solid and successful), but also because Sansa's hinging everything on his plan. everything. she's no longer thinking about ways to escape, she's not looking for opportunities, she's not emotionally or mentally prepared for this plan to fall through, which it thankfully doesn't. She's not asking questions.

Dontos is no Florian, he's a predator, but Sansa can't see that because he's more overtly bumbling and clumsy about it than everyone else, he doesn't have the same dangerous sleekness that the others at court have, she's looking so hard for the hidden pit traps she's missed the obvious.

But this was the Red Keep, (...) and if there was one thing Sansa Stark had learned here, it was mistrust.

The irony is hurting me.

...Am I being a little overtly mean tonight? I think I might be. I've had a frustrating day.

For a moment she did not know what to say. "Ser Loras," she finally managed, "you... you look so lovely." ... Sansa was finding it hard to walk and talk and think all at the same time, with Ser Loras touching her arm. ... Desperately, she tried to think of something clever and charming to say to him, but her wits deserted her. She almost told him how beautiful he was, until she remembered she'd already done that.

Oh no. Brain melting crush, blue screen of brain fail. Have you tried turning it off and back on again? Oh I joke, because this would be so cute in a another setting, but this one? DANGEROUS. Sansa's wits have been keeping her safe where her value as a hostage hasn't but even those two combined couldn't protect her from everything all of the time. Please, GRRM, stahp! My girl is playing on Ultra Hard Mode, she doesn't need the Debuff. (Don't yell, everyone main is doing Hard Mode, but Sansa's doing a Politics Only run.)

Although it's a little funny, ngl, that while "oh, Ser Loras Most Handsome Pretty Man" narrative is a thing here, "You looke dapper today" is also kinda Sansa's default for getting to know you's with her guards.

He doesn't remember, Sansa realized, startled. He is only being kind to me, he doesn't remember me or the rose or any of it. She had been so certain that it meant something, that it meant everything. A red rose, not a white.

She did well picking that up, and the tension that followed, unfortunately, she just doesn't have the context to realize why Loras was pissed. (Margaery lost her direct route to the throne, but Loras lost his partner, and he can never tell people that. No one outside a few members of his family will ever know what he lost. Not just a king, or a brother(-in-law) but his lover.)

... I am about to say something... Very Mean.

I know that Olenna was something of a fan favourite from the show, because she was... "sassy" and "witty" and had a "take no bullshit/tell it like it is" attitude. But here's something I've noticed when it comes to men writing "sassy" women.

The sliding scale of Witty to Bitchy? well that all depends on how much a threat a woman is to men in power, or how fuckable she is to the same men. It is a very fine line between snarky girl-boss and naggy bitch, and far too many people confuse one for the other.

Olenna tends to feel to me, like an overbearing and overly dismissive woman, who is just mean, but rich and old enough to get away with it because she's just an old granny. Tyrion does the same thing, he's mean, but I let him get away with it because he tends to use the "privilege to get away with it" to slap Joffrey. Doesn't mean he's not mean.

Maybe I'd take Olenna better if her target(s) were people I can prepared to dislike, and not just random women I've only just been introduced to.

Or this could very specifically be about my own grandmother who was allowed to get away with talking really uncomfortable (and more than occasionally racist) shit because she was an old widow and who I am now estranged with because she told my parents she'd call the cops on me if she had to, to prove I committed crime I literally didn't do. Like Oh? I stole things I didn't even know existed? You have fingerprints to prove it? My fingerprints are on your stuff because I definitely stole these things I didn't know existed and not because I handled most of your stuff when I helped you move in!? You don't even know for sure they're my fingerprints Nan!

Anyway! Moving on! (I like Olenna more in theory than in person, I think.)

"Sansa," Lady Alerie broke in, "you must be very hungry. Shall we have a bite of boar together, and some lemon cakes?" "Lemon cakes are my favorite," Sansa admitted.

Lemon = 🍷🍷

"I'm not fond of leeks. Take this broth away, and bring me some cheese." "The cheese will be served after the cakes, my lady." "The cheese will be served when I want it served, and I want it served now." The old woman turned back to Sansa. "Are you frightened, child? No need for that, we're only women here. Tell me the truth, no harm will come to you."

I'm going to be honest, I don't know if it's my distaste for Olenna, but that felt like a power play. A very pointed power play. Olenna is sitting there, asking Sansa to commit treason essentially, and when Sansa takes too long to break and tries to hold to her protective lies, "I get what I want, when I want it."

I get that the "tell me the truth, no harm will come to you." is supposed to sound comforting, but is sounds like a threat at the same time, and I genuinely don't know if it is or if I'm just not in a fair headspace for this chapter's political maneuvering.

... I will admit having Butterbumps sing loudly to cover the noise was a good idea, but it also draws attention in the mind that what Sansa is about to say is technically treason. Makes it feel more deliberate in choice than the show, where it felt like Sansa breaking from loneliness and reaching out to friends by sharing the danger. (sorta kinda not really but it's hard to explain the difference in the vibes otherwise.)

"- Do you hawk, Sansa?" "A little," she admitted.

?! So talented. I don't think I knew that about Sansa. (that she hawks in any amount, not that she's talented, we already knew she was talented at things.)

"To see you safely wed, child," the old woman said (...) "to my grandson." Wed to Ser Loras, oh... Sansa's breath caught in her throat.

She didn't say Loras.

... I suppose I should appreciate the timing of the song lyrics, matching the vibes of Sansa's day. happy and defiant as Sansa thinks she's being given freedom and a happily ever after, and then as she has the rug pulled and the truth revealed closing around her like a trap we get lines like "I called for a knight, but you're a bear!" and "she kicked and wailed, the maid so fair, but he licked the honey from her hair."

Oh holy shit, this chapter was a song fic. XD

hang on... how old is Willas exactly? *flips to appendix* "WILLAS, their eldest son, heir to Highgarden." hmmm "MARGAERY, their daughter, a widow of fifteen years, -" hhhmmmm *pulls up the wiki* Willas Tyrell: Born 273-276 Margaery Tyrell: Born 283 So seven to ten years older makes him... 22-25 years old. They want her to marry a man who is, at best, currently twice Sansa's age. Sansa is currently twelve.

"I thought that dreadful song would never end," said the Queen of Thorns. "But look, here comes my cheese."

The cheese was a metaphor and a power play for Sansa's secrets. Olenna got what she demanded in the end after all.

I went so hard on Olenna I'm almost tempted to tag this post as Olenna Hate.

#a storm of swords #steel and snow #a song of ice and fire #sansa stark #a chapter a day reading #asos #asoiaf

17 notes · View notes