#but she makes them wait until she can organize a proper wedding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sfb123 · 3 years

Text

Sapere Aude - Part 13

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Trigger Warning: There is a brief moment of physical abuse, it’s not much, but I definitely wanted to mention it and give a fair warning.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,383

A/N: I know you’ve all been on the edge of your seats wondering what was going to happen, the answer is a lot. This is a pretty big chapter. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to my pre-reading babes, @jessiembruno & @txemrn. And to @twinkleallnight for my lovely moodboard!

Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.

“Um...actually, it’s about the queen. Your majesty, you need to come with me, and we need to send some additional guards along with us.”

Liam’s face paled at Thomas’s words. “Where is my wife, Thomas?” He kept his voice quiet, so that he wouldn’t upset his daughter but his tone was stern and authoritative.

“I believe she is at the old Fierro estate, and time may be of the essence.”

“Li, go. We’re all here, we can take care of Eleanor.” Drake chimed in.

Liam nodded. “Bastien, please send as many guards as you can immediately, and prepare the car for us. Thomas, go with him and tell him everything you know so that we can fill the team in.” Both men bowed and quickly exited the room. Liam walked over to Eleanor, sitting in the chair next to her. “Eleanor, I need to step out and pick up mommy, ok? Your auntie and uncles will be here to play with you until we get back.”

“Can I come with you?” She asked hopefully.

Liam took a deep breath before answering her. “I’m sorry princess, but I need to go by myself. But you have a very important job here. Since Valtoria is your home, you need to host our guests. Being a hostess is something you will need to do a lot when you become queen, so this will be wonderful practice. Do you think you’re up for it?”

She nodded her head rapidly. “Yes daddy, I will be the best hostess!”

“Good. Now go with Uncle Drake, and mommy and I will see you when we get home.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek as they pulled apart.

Eleanor ran to Drake, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “C’mon Uncle Drake, I’m the hostess.” Drake chuckled before looking back at Liam and giving him a reassuring nod.

Liam waited a few moments to make sure that Drake and Eleanor were out of his path before rushing out of the room and toward the front entrance. The car was waiting for him, Bastien holding the back door open for Liam to enter. He jumped in and Bastien shut the door behind him, quickly jumping into the driver's seat. The SUV’s wheels squealed as it rushed toward the gates.

“How far out are the guards?” Liam asked.

“We had a team training not too far from the estate, they should be arriving shortly. They have been briefed.” Bastien replied, looking at Liam through the rearview mirror.

“Excellent. Would someone care to brief me now? Where is my wife?” Liam commanded.

Bastien looked over at Thomas, who was seated next to him. “Thomas, please explain to his majesty the current situation.”

Thomas took a deep breath, his hands nervously balling into fists. “Of course. You see sir, there is an organization, the Via-”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose, interrupting Thomas. “Thomas, please spare me. I know about the Via Imperii, Riley has been telling me about the meetings, the plans, everything.”

“Everything?” There was a slight crack in Thomas’s voice as he looked back at Liam. If she had told him everything, Liam knew who he was.

“Yes Thomas, everything, including our relationship. Right now, that is the last thing I am concerned with. I need you to tell me what they are doing to Riley, and what we need to do to get her out.”

“Unfortunately, I do not know much. I’m sure you were made aware of the conflict between her majesty and Lord Neville. Well it appears that he and Mara have lured her to the estate under the guise of a meeting with our chapter president. I don’t know what they are planning to do from there.”

Liam’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair. “Bastien, remind me again why we didn’t dismiss Mara after her charge, the queen, my wife, was kidnapped at our wedding? It seems like grounds for termination to me.”

“She went through a thorough re-training process, and passed all of the associated tests. It was determined that she was able to adequately perform her duties.” Bastien replied.

“Adequate is not acceptable for protecting the life of a Queen. We need exceptional as the bare minimum. She should have never been cleared to return to such a high profile duty. We will be having a meeting immediately to review protocol and standards.” The mixture of concern and rage swirling inside of Liam was becoming overwhelming, he was having trouble thinking straight. He turned to look out the window, taking deep breaths to regain some level of composure.

***

“Since rational discussion is not going to be an option here, I guess we’re going to have to go to plan b, elimination.” Neville said to Mara as they sat across from each other, Riley tied to the chair at the head of the table.

Riley laughed. “Sure, elimination. I bet that will work out great for you. It’s super easy to just make a reigning queen disappear.”

“We have been successful in doing it with two out of the last four queens. What do you think makes you so special?” Neville turned his attention to Riley, genuinely curious to know her reasons.

“Well first of all, Eleanor was in on the plan, so she doesn’t count, so it’s actually one out of four. And second, I’m sure Liam and the rest of the guards, the loyal ones,” she looked poignantly at Mara, “are on their way. I’ve been gone long enough that Liam has definitely already had them ping the location of my phone.”

Mara pulled a phone out of her pocket and waved it in front of Riley with a smug grin on her face. “It has been powered off since I pulled it from your pocket as you were getting into the car.” She placed it on the table and slid it toward Riley.

“Any more smart remarks?” Neville asked, standing from his seat. He approached Riley, taking her face in his hand and leaning in close. “The fairytale is over Riley, and the ending isn’t quite as happy as you thought.”

Riley could feel her nerves starting to take over. Yes, Liam would be missing her right now, but how was he going to find her? She felt her heart rate increase, trying to keep her composure. She had been through this before. For as much as she hated Anton, she had to give him credit, he was much better at this than Neville was. If she could survive that, she could figure out a way out of this.

She thought back to that night at the abandoned castle, she needed to channel that version of herself again. And she certainly couldn’t let Neville know he was getting to her. “What happened? You couldn’t find a woman to kiss you out of being a frog faced asshole? Or you did and it just didn’t work?”

“That’s enough!” the back of Neville’s hand abruptly met with Riley’s face, the force of the impact almost knocking the chair over. She moved her jaw back and forth several times, trying to assess the damage as best she could with her hands tied behind her back. “Mara, do we have anything to gag her with?”

Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. Neville and Mara looked at each other in confusion, nobody else knew about the plan. “Well?” Neville raised his hands in frustration. “You’re the security guard, go assess the damn threat!”

Mara jumped to her feet and opened the door to find Eleanor on the other side. “Ah Mara, I heard you and Queen Riley had stopped by, I’m so glad I was able to catch you.” She didn’t wait for Mara to respond before brushing past her and entering the room. “Lord Neville, I didn’t know you would be using one of our meeting rooms today. You didn’t clear it through the proper channels. What have we got here?” Eleanor walked straight past Neville and went right to Riley. She took in her appearance, noticing a red mark on her cheek and a small trail of blood running down her face. Her eyes were watering, but she hadn’t shed a single tear. Eleanor was impressed by the strength she was showing under these circumstances. She gave Riley a subtle wink before taking a seat and motioning for Mara and Neville to do the same. “Now, should we talk about where you plan to take things from here, considering you clearly haven’t thought this scheme all the way through?”

“We’re going to do what this organization has done for years, eliminate the threat. Maybe we will be more successful in the king’s next social season, and get a cooperative queen in place.” Neville replied.

Riley took a shaky breath, but the idea of her being taken away from her family was too much for her to bear. The tears she had been holding back broke free, and she began sobbing. Eleanor walked back over to Riley and knelt down in front of her. “It’s alright dear, you aren’t going anywhere.” She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before standing and turning her attention back to her captors. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much time and careful planning goes into enacting an elimination plan? You can’t just decide to kill the queen and expect that everything will go off without a hitch!”

As if on cue, the door burst open and several members of the King’s Guard entered with their weapons drawn. Mara immediately drew her weapon and aimed it at Neville. “Hands in the air, Lord Vancoeur.”

“Drop the weapon Mara.” One of the guards commanded.

Mara continued acting as if she was assisting in the rescue efforts, ignoring the guard’s warning. “I’m glad you guys got here, I was having trouble calling for backup to save the -”

A loud pop filled the room, Riley flinched, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them, she saw Mara laying on the ground in a pool of blood as two guards rushed Neville and took him into custody. Two more pulled Eleanor away from Riley and forced her hands behind her back. “Stop!” Riley ordered, causing both guards to look up. “She is not a part of this, she was here rescuing me. Let her go.” The guards complied, and Eleanor went back to Riley’s side, quickly undoing the fastenings that bound her to the chair. As soon as she was free, Riley stood and rubbed each of her wrists before raising a hand to her face, gently placing it on the spot that Neville had hit, and moved her jaw back and forth a couple more times. She looked at Eleanor, her eyes welling up again. “You...you saved me.”

“Of course, dear. I told you I wouldn’t let them take you away from your family.” Riley wrapped her arms around Eleanor and pulled her into a hug. Eleanor could hear her hitched breathing and knew she had begun to cry. “It’s ok Riley, you’re safe now. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

***

Liam was lost in his thoughts, watching the scenery go by as they neared the estate. The sound of Thomas’s phone ringing took him out of his thoughts. He quickly moved his attention to the front of the car, listening intently to Thomas’s answers to the person on the other end. They were simple, one word answers, and he was unable to read any kind of emotion in his voice. “Well?” Liam said, before Thomas had even fully moved the phone away from his ear. “Is Riley ok?” The seconds it took to get his response felt like an eternity for Liam.

“Yes your majesty, Riley is safe. Lord Vancoeur has been taken into custody, and Mara was killed. Queen Riley is safe and awaiting our arrival.”

Liam breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his seat. He was glad she was safe, but he needed to get there. He needed to see it for himself, to hold her, to kiss her. He needed to get her home where he could protect her.

The car pulled up to the front of the estate, and before it could come to a complete stop, Liam had jumped out and ran to the door. He burst into the estate frantically sticking his head into every doorway looking for her. Finally, he approached a large sitting area with a fireplace running, and there she was, silently watching the flames dance. “Riley? Love?”

Riley blinked a couple of times before turning and meeting Liam’s gaze. “Liam…” her voice was barely above a whisper as she slowly stood to greet him.

He rushed to her, immediately pulling her into his arms. He held her tightly as he kissed the top of her head. He pulled back, taking her face in his hands. The pressure of his touch on her still tender cheek made her wince in pain. Liam removed his hands and examined her face. “Riley, who did this to you?” He tried to keep calm, not wanting to cause her any more stress or pain.

“Stupid fucking Neville. I made some frog prince joke and he decided to heckle me with the back of his hand.”

Liam clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath. He would deal with Neville, but for now, he needed to be with his wife. “Riley, I am so sorry that you had to go through this. I should never have let you do this. It could have been so much worse.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, he noticed the marks on her wrist from the restraints, and turned his head to kiss them softly. “But it’s not, because Eleanor, your mother, saved me.”

“My...why would she do that?”

“Because I couldn’t let you lose her.” A lump formed in Liam’s throat at the sound of the voice behind him. He hadn’t heard it in years, but he had never forgotten it. He turned around and as soon as they locked eyes, he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “Hello, Liam.”

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choicesficwriterscreations @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Sapere Aude:

@burnsoslow @busywoman @gardeningourmet @ofpixelsandscribbles @tinkie1973

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612

Liam:

@amandablink @yourmajesty09

60 notes · View notes

suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

A Dance Of Thorns (c.h)

Where The Roses Bloom - Chapter 4

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Welcome to the masquerade to celebrate Your Royal Highness engagement. How many surprises can one night hold?

Warnings: Angst, Drama and Smut. Language, mentions of alcohol and abuse. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry!)

Word Count: 12.3 k

Author’s note: by far the longest chapter I’ve written but anything for the drama ✨ I would love to hear your thoughts on this 🥰 Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || prologue || chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter five || chapter six || chapter seven || epilogue

A month has gone by since the first time you saw King Luke Hemmings and you found out that you are supposed to marry him in less than a few weeks. And ever since that moment, you have invested every little free time you have into trying to stop that from happening.

You spent your afternoons sitting down at the library, reading book after book that might contain some kind of information to let you escape that awful deal. But every book you read said the same thing “A King’s promise may never be broken by law”

Still, that didn’t stop you.

Calum was also helping in every way he could. In the afternoons on his free days, he would go to the public library in town, searching for anything that could help your situation. He would spend hours reading about foreign laws that could give you at least some kind of leverage. He would ask around, hoping some kind of gossip might help you win something against your father, but until now all your tries gave little to no satisfaction.

At night, Calum would climb the castle’s walls to your window. It was the only way you could spend some time together and share hushed conversations since your father forbade you to go out without a proper companion.

He would lay with you in your bed, curled up together as he told you stories about faraway lands his father once told him, all in attempts to distract your mind from the reality you were facing every time the sun came out. He would kiss you goodnight as you fell asleep in his arms, letting the beat of his heart work as the symphony of your dreams. You would whisper “I love you’s” in the darkest of the room, letting them get lost in the stars as they shined down on you.

Every night you would go to sleep with Calum around your arms, but when the sun came up all traces of him disappeared with the moon. Well, everything but the white rose he left on your dresser along with the promise of keep fighting for you, no matter how long it took.

And with the sun it came the charade. You acted as the most obedient daughter you could ever think of. You attended your lessons, you didn’t speak out of place and obliged to every activity that surrounded the wedding, whether it was about flowers, food, decorations… things you couldn’t care less about since you were determined no to marry the King.

King Luke was not a bad person, on the contrary, he was one of the few people you could have a conversation with besides Sir Michael. Many afternoons they would accompany you in the library, never commenting about the books you chose to read as they sat in silence one in front of the other, immersed in their reading or their hushed conversations.

You learned to find a friend in Luke, someone that could have at least the same amount of trust you once had with your brother. He would make you laugh and he’d tell you everything you wanted to know about him, it was so easy and somewhat comforting to know that you were not as alone as you felt. But that did not mean that he had your full trust.

After Ashton took your father’s side in this dilemma, leaving you alone in a marriage you wanted no part of, you lost every ounce of trust you once held in your heart. And even though Ashton did try to make it better, to apologize for the way he treated you; you did not let him go near you. Every time you found yourself alone with him, you ignored his every move, and if you were in the company of others you didn’t even dignify him with a glance. You knew you might be a little harsh on him, and all of this hurt you as well, more than you would care to admit. But if your father learned about you and Calum… who else could’ve told him if not your brother?

Out of all the people who could betray you, you never expected Ashton to be one of them and you let him know that, no matter how much you needed your brother with you. If he declared your death with this marriage before you were sent away, then he’d be dead to you as well.

You were not going to give up, not even with the ceremony breathing on the back of your neck. There must be a way where you could break this engagement, something that could give you your freedom again.

The ceremony was scheduled one day before your twenty-first birthday, one day before you gained your independence as a royal as the law said it, one day before you could refuse the King’s requests with total liberty. Your father had planned this well, you must admit at least that. But if there was a way where you could delay the wedding… somehow make it past your birthday without getting married, then you would be able to get away.

But that task was more difficult than you have anticipated since your father was in charge of your schedule, everything was going smoothly and at perfect timing. There was nothing that you could do to delay the event.

“I need you to hold your breath for me, Your Highness”

For example right now, as the seamstresses adjusted the corset of your white dress to your body, your mind was reciting the laws again, trying to find some plothole that could be beneficial for you.

The grip you had in the chair tightened as they tied the corset on your back, helping you get into the skirt afterward. You didn’t say a word as the seamstresses chattered among them. You ignored the comments regarding your future marriage, or how beautiful your children will look if they look just like the King, or how lucky you were to be marrying into a rich kingdom.

“You will look beautiful on your wedding day, Your Highness,” The oldest lady said with a dreamy sigh “Your lover will not know what hit him”

“But my love will not be the one waiting at the end of the altar” You wanted to say, to scream at them for keeping up with the lie. You didn’t love Luke, you could never love him the way you love Calum. But Calum was not your fiance, he was just a secret.

You kept the tears at bay as you let them work over your dress, not daring to breathe too loud so you wouldn’t call their attention. They didn’t know that you were dying in the middle of a sea of white fabric and soft silk.

“There,” The young lady exclaimed as she finished the last touch of your veil, placing it carefully on your head “Oh, Your Highness. You look like a dream”

A dream trapped in a nightmare indeed.

You observed your reflection in the nearest window. You didn’t look like a child anymore; no, in front of you was the reflection of a woman, of a bride about to be sent to the slaughter of her liberty. A clockwork tragedy waiting to happen.

The white contrasted with your skin and hair, making you glow with the candlelight. It made you look more mature, more like a royal than you ever felt before. It was a beautiful work, but none of this ever felt right.

“You look just like your mother” The words of the older lady took your breath away. The memory of your mother’s face was already fading in your mind, you remember she was beautiful, but you couldn’t make the color of her eyes or the sound of her voice anymore.

“She would be so proud of you, Your Highness”

Would she? Would she have wanted this for you? If she were here, would she care or would she take your father’s side? Oh, what would you give to listen to one last piece of advice from her. To feel her embrace one more time, for her to tell you that everything would be okay.

You haven’t really felt the absence of your mother hit you as hard as of now because maybe with your mother here you wouldn’t feel so scared.

“Oh, don’t cry, princess” You didn’t even notice the tears running down your face until the lady pointed out “This is a happy occasion! There needn’t be any tears”

Only if she knew…

You accepted the silk handkerchief and dried your tears without saying anything, letting them help you out of your wedding gown as you tried on another one.

This was a black dress with roses embroidered along with the skirt and neckline. It was lighter than the wedding dress but the fabric was more delicate. The somber aspect of the dress, along with its sophistication, made you think of it as a better choice for your wedding day.

“Your father was very kind to host a party to celebrate your engagement, Your Highness. This is a perfect dress for the occasion”

You knew by now that none of your father’s actions could be considered kind. He organized this masquerade ball for his own benefit.

The King of RoseWood invited representatives of all the neighboring kingdoms and alliances that Ashton helped build, to the castle for a magical night of dancing and fun. But you knew he just wanted to parade the match you and Luke made in front of the world.

He wanted to show power, the kind of which someone would look at him and say “This is a man that demands respect” When in reality all he did was abuse his power and intimidate the ones closest to him.

The masquerade served as a punishment rather than a delight. He would put you under the spotlight and expect you to smile while he knows you’re dying on the inside. He will parade you around the room with the story of a good and lovable daughter, the little Princess that’s living the dream of a magical life in the arms of the man you love all thanks to the father whom she loved with all her heart.

He knew that this was all bullshit, and he rejoiced in the fact that you hated every single minute of it.

“The dress is absolutely stunning, Your Highness” Continued the older lady “What a lovely idea you had when deciding to use one of your mother’s old gowns and make it new again”

You gave her a small smile. It was a lovely idea, but not for the reasons they might think. This dress represented much more than just your mother and your wish of having her close in a moment like this. It represented going against your father in ways that only he could understand; it represented your heritage, how you didn’t forget who truly loved you and taught you how to be strong; it represented the image of the rebellion you set upon yourself, a sign that screamed “I will not stop even if you try”

It represented you.

“There is only one detail missing…” The young lady walked over to the dresser only to grab something delicate in her hands before presenting it to you: The mask.

Soft and made out of silk and with golden broderies across the eyes, the mask hid half of your face perfectly. If not for the tiara you must wear on your head, nobody would’ve been able to recognize who you were.

How ironic was it that in the night where you should be the center of attention, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

The night was clear, all the stars and constellations were visible from where you were standing in front of your window. Your hands were touching the soft stones of the window frame as you tried to count your breaths.

You couldn’t help but look for him in the gardens, hoping you could see him waiting for you under your window, asking you to come to the tree where your meetings were held before everything went wrong. It’s only been a couple of days but you missed him, and with the way, he consumes all your thoughts it was almost impossible not to.

But he was not coming tonight, your father made sure that the help was not invited to the party since it was such an important event to make it “common”, so your meeting will have to wait until tomorrow.

Still, you imagined how it would be like if he were to attend the ball. You dreamt about his smile, how his eyes would shine once he spotted you standing there at the top of the stairs as he waited for you at the end of it. You wondered if he would like the dress and you wished you could show it to him.

You sighed as you imagined his hand taking yours, guiding you to the middle of the ballroom, and starting dancing with you as if nobody were watching. It’s been so long since your last dance with him and you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of his clumsy feet stepping over yours in an attempt to teach you how to dance for your first ball.

Calum was always like that, caring and selfless until he couldn’t give anymore. That is one of the many things why you loved him, why you would never stop loving him.

But now you were forced to pretend to love someone else in front of strangers and people who didn’t care about you enough to notice how much you were hurting. The glamour of the night might hide it, but you know that there was only one person who you would much rather spend the night with; the only person who would not be there tonight.

“Y/N?” A voice called from outside your room, waking up from your dreams as you heard them knocking softly on the door “Are you ready to go?”

You pushed yourself from the window with a deep sigh, grabbing the mask that was laying on top of the bed before walking towards the door and opening it with an emotionless expression.

There, Ashton was waiting for you, pacing the hall until he heard the wooden door open. His whole body froze as his lips parted for a second when he took your appearance.

“You-” He said, choking up a little bit as he shook his head for a moment, thinking he might’ve seen a ghost “You look just like her…”

You were not expecting that comment. You knew the dress would affect your father, but you didn’t imagine it would have that kind of effect on Ashton.

But now, as he stood in front of you with wide, watering eyes and the faintest hint of a smile, you realized that you might not be the only one who misses your mother.

Ashton knew her longer, he used to spend every single moment with her along with you when you were nothing more than a child. When she died, you didn’t quite grasp the concept of death, but Ashton was the one who took it way harder. But, as a prince, he was not allowed to break down as any other normal kid would do when they lose a parent who was dear to them. No, he had to maintain his image and at the same time took it upon himself to raise you as your mother would.

He was the only loving family you’ve ever known. But he was also the only person who had ever broken your heart.

You looked at him with a sense of pity and understanding.

“I wanted to feel her with me tonight” You told him, these being the first words you exchanged with Ashton in a long time.

You noticed this also affected him. His eyebrows raised slightly and he took one step towards you, still bargaining with your feelings towards him.

Ashton took your hand in his, covering it completely as he softly spoke.

“You are her spitting image, Y/N/N. She has always been with you and lived through you. Everything you do reminds me of her and I promise you she would be proud of the beautiful, brave woman you’ve become”

His words struck you more than they probably should have. Ashton was never the one who spoke freely about your mother, not since you stopped needing him as much. He always kept that part to himself unless you asked.

He thought so highly of your mother and now he was comparing her to you. For some reason, this served as no comfort, but rather it angered you. Not because you didn’t think your mother was a horrible person, but because you thought that maybe if they - your father and Ashton - loved you as much as they loved her, you wouldn’t have to be in this position.

“The only difference is that mother’s family did not sell her for marriage,” You said bitterly, pulling your hand from Ashton’s grip as you saw hurt flash through his eyes.

“Y/N-“

“She loved our father, Ashton” You cried “For some reason she loved him and she married for love. Why can’t you let me do the same? Why can’t you help me and let me be happy? Am I to be trapped forever in a loveless marriage just because of the greed of this kingdom's leaders? I don’t even know what alliances we are keeping! In what world is it fair that I have to sacrifice my spirit just to please your egos?”

“You know it’s not like that-“

“For you, maybe! But you know exactly what father is doing and why he is doing it and you are taking his side! Ashton, you are just as guilty as he is” Your truth was spilling out of your mouth with nothing but desperation.

You wanted your brother to know how you were feeling, how much you were willing to fight for your freedom. For weeks you’ve been holding these words out of pride and pettiness, but you cannot go a day longer without letting him know just how much this is affecting you.

“I can’t trust you, Ash, and I can’t pretend that we are going to be okay after all of this no matter what happens in the end. You broke my heart, and I don’t think you understand to what extent”

Ashton stood in front of you with his head low “You hate me”

“I’m disappointed” You admitted, knowing you will have a hard time trying to hate your brother.

“Y/N, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the kingdom. What’s best for you!” He excused “You will be safe in the Vail, you’ll be a Queen and I know King Luke will treat you right. You have to understand that this is hard for me, too. But I can’t be here to protect you-“

“Protect me?” You interrupted him “Protect me from what?” He stayed quiet “Ashton?”

“Your Highnesses?” A guard called from the end of the hall “The King awaits”

“Announcing Prince Ashton Irwin, Heir to the Throne of RoseWood, and Princess Y/N Irwin, Future Queen of the Vail”

Wilsburg’s voice ran across the ballroom accompanied with two stumps of his scepter, calling everyone’s attention as you and Ashton descended the staircase together, claiming your rightful titles as everyone’s heads turned around to see you.

You kept your head high with every step you gave. All eyes were on you but you were not able to recognize anyone as their faces were covered with masks of every form, color, texture, and shape.

When you reached the end of the staircase, you and Ashton walked together to the center of the room where your father was standing with a winning smile plastered on his face. You were never prone to violence, but the feeling of wanting to punch your father in the face and erase that smile grew every minute.

You stood in front of your father and his court and gave him a courtesy in sign of respect. Your father’s eyes met yours once you stood straight again, and you couldn’t deny the feeling of pride that overwhelmed you when you saw the pure disgust in them as he took a glance at what you were wearing, knowing that this time he couldn’t do anything about it.

“My children,” He said with fake tenderness as he opened his arms in welcome.

It was so easy for him to fool the people who surrounded him, making everyone believe he was a good, caring, and loving father. But you could see clearly through his mask, no matter how much he tried to hide it - this time literally as his masks covered most of his face - he will never look at you with an ounce of love.

“King Luke Hemmings from the Vail and his loyal advisor, Sir Michael Clifford from Chesthire” Wilsburg announced, saving you from your father’s stare as the attention shifted back to the staircase where Luke and Michael were.

They walked next to each other, his movements identical as they elegantly descended into the party. They were both wearing the shades of blue that represented their Kingdom, each of them with matching masks that made them look regal, undoubtedly showcasing their royal status and importance.

Luke spotted your little broken family in the middle of the room, smiling a little bit and nodding towards you as he and Michael approached you with ease while the guests made way for them.

“Your Majesty” Luke bowed to your father, but his attention did not linger on him as much because soon his eyes were on you.

You noticed how blue his eyes looked under the mask, his blond curls falling perfectly to his shoulders and making him look like an actual angel.

“Princess,” He said, bowing just enough to capture your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

“Your Majesty,” You greeted him with courtesy, thankful that at least you’ll have some friendly faces in the crowd. “Sir Clifford. I must say you look very elegant today,”

You caught a glimpse of blush under the young guard’s mask, his green eyes sparkled at the compliment. His outfit was not as elegant as Luke’s, but his hair was pushed back in a short ponytail at the ends of his neck making him look like a prince.

“One can only try, Your Highness” He answered with a dashing smile “But, surely, no beauty compares to you, Princess. People should envy your exterior as well as your kind heart. My King is a lucky man” He said, looking back at Luke who was already smiling at him.

King Richard cleared his throat loudly, making the three of you turn your attention to him. His jaw was tight as he showed a smile to the other monarch.

“Now that the guest of honor has arrived,” Your father said with a loud, authority tone “Let the festivity begin!”

The small orchestra that worked under your father’s orders started to play lovely symphonies the minute those words came out of their King’s mouth. The other guests soon resumed their previous chatter and quickly got lost in the celebratory atmosphere, some grabbing drinks while others started dancing along with the soft melodies.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with your fingers as you watched how your father called Ashton’s attention and took him aside for a talk. Your eyes roamed across the room, feeling out of place as you caught glimpses of people passing by, not knowing anyone as they proceeded to ignore you.

You thought about how this will be your life from now on. How you will end up alone in some party you don’t feel comfortable in just to please the aesthetics of how a royal should be. People will not be interested in you, only your title, and they will judge you, envy you, hate you, and take advantage of you for it. You will not be Y/N anymore, you won’t have the chance to. You will be a Queen and that’s all people will want to know as you will be pushed away into someone’s shadow.

“Not much of a social butterfly, I see” You heard Luke comment next to you, leaning over to your side so he could whisper in your ear.

You gave him a small smile, “I was never really fond of parties,” You admitted quietly “Which is ironic, given that I always wanted to attend these kinds of gathering when I was a child”

Luke laughed softly, “I believe that is because you don’t know how to properly have fun at a party” He chuckled once he saw your confused gaze “Michael, have you seen Lady Thompson today?”

Michael, who was standing in front of you, smiled as his gaze followed Luke’s “I cannot believe she came here after the scandal”

“The scandal?” You asked, trying to see whom they were talking about.

“Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard?” Luke asked casually “Her poodle caught a case of hair eating fleas, and once they left the poor dog bald, they went for the main of hair Lady Thompson used to brag about”

Yours parted your lips in shock, but Michael continued “Not only that, but I heard she’s telling everyone how her hair grew back in just a few hours by putting some kind of magical mud she found near the river end”

Finally, your gaze fell into the person they were discussing and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“That’s not Lady Thompson, her name is Lady Judith from the Mountains of Chaversty” Your eyes fell back on Luke and Michael, who were trying to suppress a laugh “You are mocking me…”

“Not at all, Princess,” Luke said with a chuckle “We are just teaching you how to have fun”

“When we were kids, we used to sneak into the palace’s parties and hide under tables watching people pass and creating narratives about their lives” Michael explained “We started with a simple sentence, and then we created the most outrageous stories from them. The one who could come up with the craziest storyline would win”

“And somehow, I always ended up losing,” Luke smiled as Michael shrugged.

“It’s not my fault that you lack creativity,”

You smiled fondly at their teasing banter. You were amazed at how titles were forgotten when they were just talking to one another, it seemed so simple to them to call each other by their name as if they were normal people. And seeing that, somehow, made you feel less alone.

They taught you how to play in between their anecdotes and inside jokes, but you didn’t feel left out as you remember Luke’s words about Michael and how much he means to him. It was their little thing, their little moment in time that they could share with none other than each other, and still were kind enough to share some of that with you.

You spend a few hours playing the game and laughing along with them as they found you a worthy opponent with how many crazy stories you could pull out of your mind in an instant. One of the rules was that you couldn’t tell real names nor real gossips about those people to keep their integrity and the innocence of the game, so all your thoughts and outraged comments were taken lightly with fun. You even won a couple of times.

From time to time, people came to congratulate you and Luke on your engagement. You were glad to know that they could never notice how uncomfortable you looked thanks to the mask, but you were one hundred percent sure that he and Michael noticed how your posture changed and how you tensed at the mention of the wedding. Luckily, they brushed it off and carried on like it was nothing.

Sometime later, Luke went to grab some drinks for you and him, leaving you alone with Michael who quickly started a conversation with you about sword fighting and training.

You were too immersed in the conversation that you didn’t notice a person standing behind you until they cleared their throat.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” You heard someone say. The familiarity of that voice sent shivers down your body and made your throat dry the second you heard it.

You turned around in a fast movement that made the skirt of your dress appear like it was floating above the floor. Your breath got caught up in your chest as you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inhale and exhale your body made the moment your eyes met his.

There he was, hiding under a white mask that matched his white and gold suit that once belonged to his father. There he was, standing in front of you and hiding in plain sight as his brown eyes were set on yours, taking you in as he let out a sigh in amazement.

“Calum…” You wanted to call him by his name out loud, to jump into his arms as you let the tears that were gathering in your eyes fall free from the happiness you were feeling at that moment. The kind of happiness only he could bring with such ease; the kind of happiness that you longed to experience all your life as long as he was next to you.

But you couldn't say that, you couldn’t blow his cover like that. If they found out he sneaked into the party, they would surely put him in the dungeon for god knows how long. He took a lot of risks coming here, and one word from you might throw that all away.

Instead, Calum noticed your hesitant shock, so he smiled softly as he said.

“Will you give me the greatest honor and pleasure of sharing one dance with me, Your Highness?”

You wanted to answer immediately, but according to the protocols a woman always needs their partner's permission to dance with a stranger. But Luke was not your real partner and Calum was not a stranger. You could feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest from how strongly it was beating, but you couldn't identify if it was beating out of excitement or fear.

You looked over to Michael who was already staring at you with a curious gaze. He could easily see the unsaid pleading inside your eyes as you fought with the need to take this stranger’s hands in yours. The green-eyed man looked over between the two of you and was able to connect the dots in an instant.

Then, he simply smiled understandingly as he said “Just another secret between us, Princess” Looking at you like the way he did the morning you eavesdropped on your father’s conversation with Luke.

You let out a breath of relief as you nodded, silently thanking him as you watched him walk away just a little bit to give you and Calum enough privacy.

When you turned back to Calum, he looked as relieved as you felt, kindly offering his hand to you.

“May I take this dance, my rose?”

“You may”

Calum took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as he softly guided you to the middle of the dance floor where several other couples were waiting for the next piece to start.

He placed a hand to your waist, stocking his fingers slowly over the fabric and bringing you closer to him as he held your hand with his other one. You blushed as you placed your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly to encourage him.

You both understood how recklessly dangerous this was; to be dancing in front of everyone as your fiance stood somewhere in the room, probably wondering where you were, and with your father and brother at such a close distance. But neither of you cared when your eyes met again through the masks.

You didn’t care about the risks as long as you were holding each other like this; when you finally felt free inside the cage.

A sweet melody filled the air, but you were too focused on Calum to even listen. You only realized the dance has started when you felt his fingers grace your waist tightly as he spun you around with delicacy, taking the lead as you followed his steps with care.

Memories of your first dance together flooded your mind and you couldn’t help but smile. You were only children back then, now it seems like another life.

“You learned how to dance…” You said fondly in a hushed tone, a blush covering your cheeks as you heard him softly chuckle at your comment.

“I had to. I didn’t want to embarrass myself the next time we’d dance”

“You knew there would’ve been the next time back then?”

“I always hoped I’d get to dance with you again after that night” He admitted, his eyes never leaving yours “You are the only one who I’d like to dance with all my life”

His feet moved carefully around your dress, following the other couples as they spun and changed places with their partners placing their hands together between their two bodies. A classical dance made for lovers, for one must never leave their partner’s eyes as they spin and turn just to fall back into their arms again.

It was slow at first, building its tempo as more instruments were added to the melody, making it enchanting, haunting as they took over the room with an admirable strength that only a feeling of utter power could describe as beautiful. It was supposed to represent passion and how it can dominate you, slowly and then all at once before you even realize it was there.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my rose,” He said once his hand was placed to your lower back, pulling you closer to him as you let your hand wander just inches from the back of his neck. “You always knew how to put flowers to shame, but tonight you look just as radiant as the moon itself”

“Calum…”

“Shh,” He whispered, “Let me tell you my truth while I still can, my love. For if this is one of the last times I shall see you, let me relish on how beautiful you are. Let me tell you all the compliments in the world and see me fall short since no compliment could ever be enough to capture just how enchanting you are”

You tugged on the hand that was holding yours.

“Why do I feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

“I’m not” Calum answered quickly “That’s the last thing I’ll ever do. But seeing you tonight just reminded me that I don’t tell you how much you mean to me. And I promise you that when we get out of this situation, I promise that I’ll tell you every day of my life”

“When,” You thought “Not if, but when. It’s just a matter of time”

To know that Calum hasn’t given up on you, on your love, meant the world to you. Most of the time you felt like you were battling alone as if no one was listening. But he was right there with you, even if you couldn’t see him or be with him all the time. He still hasn’t given up on you.

You felt it right there; the love. He was risking everything for you, to see you and be with you in the night where you’re supposed to celebrate your engagement. He broke every rule for a moment with you, knowing that you would do the same for him.

The music kept going, the crescendo was at its peak. Calum grabbed you with both his hands on your waist and picked you up as he turned around, placing you back on the ground to your initial position of one of your hands intertwined while the other rested on his shoulder and your lower back.

You giggled like children as he put you down, pretending the world didn’t exist as you swayed to the music. Tonight, you were a young couple enjoying their first dance together and loving every minute of it. Nothing else mattered.

You didn’t feel the stares of the guests or Ashton’s careful gaze as he tried to decipher who you were dancing with. You didn’t hear the whispers or notice how Luke hid his smile in his drink as he handed the other to Michael who looked at you in complicity. You didn’t see where your father has run off to, but you didn’t care.

You were in love. You were dancing with the love of your life; letting him guide your steps carefully as the crescendo started to go down and his grip on you tightened, not wanting to let go of this moment.

“I love you” Calum whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled like the sun “You are risking a lot by saying that here”

He shook his head “And I’ll risk even more if I have to. I cannot go a day without telling you I love you, my rose. Even if they throw me in the dungeon, I’ll find my way to you”

“Don’t say things like that,” You warned him as the melody started to fade “I’ll be damned if I lose you, Calum. This was reckless enough from both of our parts”

“And yet, you’re still dancing with me” He smiled as his movements started to slow down “My love for you is as reckless as it is endless, Y/N, and if I have to risk myself a thousand times; if I have to die a thousand times to love you freely then so be it. All of that will be worth it as long as you say it back”

You stare at him with tears in your eyes as the song reaches its end.

“I love you”

Calum stopped completely, letting go of his grip on your back but still holding your hand on his.

“And just like that, everything is worth it,” He said, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

You smiled at him, chuckling through the unshed tears as you pondered in disbelief at just how lucky you are to love him and be loved by him.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said with a bow of his head.

“Aren’t you going to stay?” You knew you sounded a little desperate, but he just got here and, even though it was a little selfish on your part, you wanted him here just a little bit longer if possible.

Calum smiled “Only with the promise of another dance, my rose”

You nodded gracefully as Calum bowed once again before you watched him disappear into the crowd.

Your smile was still evident in your face as you gathered yourself and started to back up into the crowd, maybe try to find Luke to keep appearances until Calum asks for another dance.

“What a promising young man. Isn’t he, Y/N?”

The blood in your veins froze when you heard your father’s voice from behind you. You stood still, hoping you misheard him or mistaken him for another person that was passing by.

“Say, do we know him by any chance?” King Richard said with a mocking interest that made you want to run away right in that instant to find Calum and ask him to hide somewhere.

Instead, you turned around, and as calmly as you could, you answered:

“I’m afraid not, father. He didn’t tell me his name before nor after our dance”

“Didn’t I tell you never to talk to strangers, little Princess?”

He stood in front of you with a wicked smirk, not really waiting for an answer as he puffed his chest, showcasing the Kingdom’s shiny emblem on his fancy attire.

Your father lived for the adoration and fear of his subjects; he relished in your fear towards him for many years now, watching with delight as you submit to him out of fear or hope for any kind of attention he could show you. He adored the power he had over you, on how easy it was just to mess with your life as you’d allowed him to. And now, as you looked into his eyes you could see the fun he was having watching you tremble under his gaze, fearing that he might’ve discovered you.

The King looked you up and down and smirked as he announced “I believe it’s time for a father and daughter dance!”

The people who were gathering around the two of you started clapping and cheering as your father looked at you with a pleased gaze. You watched as the couples who were getting ready for the next dance suddenly left and were now standing to the side, anxiously waiting for the Princess and the King to have a sentimental moment.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Ashton who was making his way to the center of the room, pushing people as he tried to get to you; on the opposite end of the room, Luke drifted his gaze between you and Michael with a hint of worry in his eyes. Calum was nowhere to be found as your eyes searched for him in the crowd and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him.

King Richard ran out of patience. He grabbed your hand in what seemed a delicate touch, but only you could feel how his nails dug in the skin of your hand, forcefully pulling you to the dancefloor.

You felt disgusted as his hand gripped your waist, snapping his fingers to the musicians with his other hand before gripping your wrist and holding it high.

When the music started, he moved you around the dancefloor in stiff circles; there was no delicacy, no softness in his touch as he dragged you at the rhythm of one of the sweetest melodies you’ve heard.

“That dress does not belong to you” Your father whispered in between a smile. A tone of warning lacing his every word.

You felt the buckle of your knees weakened your step, but you didn’t dare move your eyes from his.

Too long you’ve been under his domain, living in fear of his next move whenever you were left alone with him. The bruises healed but the scars remain as your memory recalled the moments where he would get so mad at you just for being there, how he hated you just for looking like her.

All the pain, self-doubt, hatred, and fear he put you through… all the times you let him win because you didn’t think it could ever become worse… it all came crashing down into a feeling of anger and resentment that only served to give you strength for your next words.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, father” You defied him with fake ignorance “This is my dress. My mother left it for me. Don’t you like it?”

King Richard locked his jaw, his eyes spitting fire as you held his stare without moving an inch as you danced through the room.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N,” He said with a wicked smile “And you won’t win. You can’t”

He laughed maliciously as he saw the shocked look in your eyes.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out what you were doing in the library this past few weeks?”

Your heart stopped at the statement, feeling weak as he got you figured it out. But how? How could he know unless someone told him? Someone who knew what you were looking for…

The color drained from your face as you stuttered “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t play stupid, you insolent child” His grip on your wrist tightened, hurting you in front of everyone without raising any suspicion “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall of this goddamned castle and you think you can outsmart me by hiding in the library and looking through the books of laws? But you still haven’t found what you’re looking for, correct?” He asked, smiling as he saw how you frowned at the truth “And I’ll make sure you never will. My plans will not be ruined by a weak little girl”

“Plans?” You asked suddenly, realizing that he overshared something he might’ve not supposed to say “What are you-?” You started, before everything became clear, remembering Ashton’s words from a few hours prior “The wedding, the alliance… That’s all just a trick, isn’t it? You need something from them, from Luke…”

You smiled to yourself as you saw your father speechless for the first time.

“You need me,” You stated as a matter of factly “And you know that I won’t ever help you voluntarily, that’s why you are forcing everyone to do this. You know I can stop you, you know there is a way to stop all of this and you’re afraid…”

His fingers dug into your skin with force, leaving red marks that will become bruises, but you didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t want to play games with me, child” King Richard said, all niceties dropped from his face “I am the King!”

“And I’m not scared of you!” You smiled with sufficiency “Look around, father. You want to play? Let's do it. Hurt me in front of all these people, let them see how their monarch loves his daughter. You cannot hurt me here”

A sense of pride came over you as you finally stood up for yourself to your father. You finally saw a flash of fear pass by his eyes as he scanned the room and saw all the eyes on him.

“I will stop you”

But then, the King smiled like the devil.

“I’d like to see you try. Stop the music!” He suddenly yelled, making all the guests flinch at the sound of his voice.

Your movements came to a stop, but the grip he had on your hand just became tighter and tighter, crushing your bones as you tried to get rid of his touch.

“My daughter, Princess Y/N, just had the most wonderful idea!” He announced to the crowd as you looked at him in shock while he smiled “She told me she cannot wait to be married, just like any other lady” He joked, making the guest laugh at you.

Your father cupped your face by the chin, applying pressure on it so you wouldn’t be able to say a word as he exclaimed:

“And who am I to deny anything to my beautiful, beautiful little princess? The wedding ceremony will take place in two days! And you are all more than invited!”

The crowd cheered and clapped as you felt sick to your stomach. Two days?! How are you going to stop everything in only two days?

You released yourself from your father’s grip, tears clouding your eyes as you saw the winning smirk on his face.

“I warned you not to play games, little rose”

You stood in horror as you watched your father disappear into the crowd, accepting congratulations on your behalf and laughing with the other guest at your “eagerness” of getting married already.

“Y/N?” You heard Ashton said and he placed a hand on your shoulder “Are you-?”

You felt your breathing start to pick up, short and fast exhales came with almost no intake of air to your lungs. You were getting dizzy, disoriented as you analyzed the situation.

It was so fast… too fast. It all happened too fast.

“Y/N-” Ashton tried again, but you shook yourself from his touch.

“For fuck’s sake leave me alone!” You half-whispered, half yelled as you picked up your skirt and ran away from the ballroom.

The sound of your heels clicking on the floor was drowned by the sound of your breathless sobbing as you desperately looked for a way out of the castle.

You couldn’t stay here anymore. You needed to find Calum, see if he’s okay, and just leave. But with every step you took your worry grew stronger as thoughts of Calum hurt flashed through your head.

“Rose,” He said. Your father called you rose. He knew. He knew! And you couldn’t find Calum.

“Y/N!” A voice called from behind you, the sound of their heels coming closer as you tried to get away from there “Y/N, wait!”

You were almost at the door leading to the gardens, just a few steps from freedom when you felt a hand grip your arm, making you stop.

Luke stood there in front of you, almost breathless as his eyes filled with worry when he saw your tear-filled eyes and your trembling lip trying its hardest to suppress a cry.

Without thinking it twice, the young King pulled you into a hug. You were shocked at first but eventually, you relaxed in his arms as he let you cry onto his chest, hearing muffled apologies in between sobs.

“It’s okay,” He said softly, looking to his side to find Michael catching up with them at a distance “It’s okay”

“No!” You cried “No, it’s not! Luke I-” You stopped as the words of your father filled your brain “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall…”

You grabbed onto Luke’s hand and guided him outside the palace, looking over your shoulder in case someone tried to approach you.

“Tell Michael to stay at the entrance,” You told him.

Luke nodded as he signaled Michael to stay where he was, letting you take him away to the entrance of the woods where you were somewhat hidden from the palace while still being able to see it from where you were standing.

“What is going on?” Luke asked calmly “Why are we hiding? Why did you tell your father you wanted to marry this soon? I-”

“I didn’t do it! You have to believe me in this, Luke. Please” You begged “He is trying to hurt me, to hurt you! I didn’t want any of this to happen, please believe me that I had no idea that would happen”

Luke sighed, placing both his hands on your shoulders to try and calm you down “I believe you”

“You do?”

He nodded with a soft smile.

“Yeah, this is the first time I heard you say my name so I know this is serious,” Luke said “Why is he trying to hurt you?”

You didn’t answer, how could you? You trusted Luke, but did you trust him enough? How in the world would you tell your fiance that you are in love with someone else and that your father wants to punish you for it, that this whole charade of lies was created for dangerous means, and that he might also be in danger?

After a while, Luke asked softly:

“Is it because you love another, don’t you?” You froze, eyes filled with fear as you looked at him “It’s hard to pretend not to love someone when you’re close to them. I could see it while you were dancing with him, because it was him, wasn’t it? The man who owns your heart?”

You lowered your head, eyes filling with tears as you whispered “Luke-”

“It’s okay, love” He reassured, caressing your face and cupping your cheeks so you would look at him “I knew from the start that you belonged to another, and tonight I recognized that look, that complicit smile you only find in those whose life complete yours in a way where you didn’t think it was possible. I have never seen you as happy as you were dancing with him. You truly love him, do you?”

“More than anything” You answered without a doubt.

“And he surely loves you. It was more than obvious from the way he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout the dance. He’s a lucky man, and he knows how to give himself entirely to you. I don’t think I have ever seen a man so in love before”

“You sure know a lot about love, Luke,” You said surprising him “You know just as much as a man who is or has been in love before”

He chuckled lightly “That’s because you’re not the only one with a heart owned by another, Princess”

Luke averted his gaze back to the castle, a nostalgic cloud covering his baby blue eyes.

“Is your love waiting for you at home?” You asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

He chuckled softly before his expression changed from dreamy, to worry, to sad, you pretended you didn’t notice how his eyes became glossy from the tears.

“He’s the only home I’ve ever known…”

Then, you understood. Luke was not looking at the castle; he was looking at the person guarding the entrance, commanded by his King.

Your heart filled with an indescribable joy as you took your hand and placed it on Luke’s cheek, softly wiping a tear that started to roll down.

“I guess we are both stuck in this, huh?” He laughed, looking at you in the way only a strong bond could describe.

“But you don’t have to be,” He said, “Your love, do you know where he is?”

You started to shake your head, but then you remembered something.

“I think I might have an idea”

“Go to him.” Luke encouraged, kissing your knuckles before letting go of your hand “Michael and I will cover this entrance, I’ll tell everyone who asks that we were together talking and walking through the gardens the whole night so no one gets suspicious”

You could almost cry of relief at his words. You jumped into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek while muttering a small “Thank you” before you started running through the woods, knowing exactly where to go and hoping that he’ll be there.

“Calum!” You sighed with relief, finally feeling like you could breathe when you saw him in front of your tree.

You took your chances coming here, not knowing if he was going to be waiting here or if he was somehow captured by your father's orders.

On your way to your secret place, your heart could not stop racing, the countless tragic possibilities flooded your mind as you ran through the woods, not caring if some parts of your dress got ripped because of your careless moving.

But there he was, sitting in one of the roots that were visible from the surface. He was not wearing his mask as he fiddled with it between his fingers until the moment he saw you.

“Y/N!” He breathed, getting up from his improvised seat and running towards you, involving you in a tight embrace. Only then, wrapped in your arms you understood Luke’s words.

Only there you felt truly at home.

“I thought something happened to you” You cried into his chest as you felt his hand soothe you while caressing your back “My father…”

“I know,” He said, placing a small kiss on the top of your head “When he announced the ceremony I could see a couple of guards coming my way, I had no choice but run”

Your whole body shook in terror when he said that. Now you knew your father was planning on hurting Calum now that he knew who he was. Unless he’d always known…

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said when he felt you cry again “It’s okay, my love. I got away, didn’t I?”

“Now, but you know what he’s capable of doing, Cal. You saw what he did at the party! He moved the wedding closer because he knew we’ve been searching for ways to stop it. He knows who you are and if anything- if anything happens to you, I-”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” Calum stated, pulling you away from him just enough so he could see your face and cup your cheeks with his hands “I will not let anything happen to me or you, I promise. I will be there for you, Y/N, always”

You nodded but still felt a cloud of darkness surrounding you. You trusted Calum more than anyone, but this might be the first promise that he might not fulfill. Your father is a powerful man that reigned by inflicting fear into his people and respect by his equals basing himself with lies.

If he could turn your world upside down with just a couple of words… what would he do to Calum?

“How did you know I was here?” Calum asked, trying to lighten the mood when he noticed you spacing out in sorrow.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to the floor “I had a hunch”

“Were you followed?”

“No, Luke and Michael stayed to watch the entrance and the surroundings” Calum looked at you puzzled “We can trust them, it’s okay. Luke doesn’t want to marry me either”

“What a fool-”

“He doesn’t want to marry me because, like me, he is in love with someone else,” You said with a smile that quickly disappeared with your next thought “And now we’ll both be trapped in a marriage where we’ll be forced to be away from the ones we truly love”

“Then don’t marry him,” Calum said in a breath.

You rolled your eyes “Is not that easy, Calum. You know that-”

“That a King’s promise may never be broken. But what if the King promised something that can’t be possible?”

His tone was questioning, almost as if he wasn’t sure of what he was saying either and he was just thinking at the top of his head.

“Love, what are you-?”

“What if you couldn’t marry the King because you’re already married?” He asked, more certain this time.

You were about to answer him with another question, trying to understand what he was trying to say. But he continued, trying to explain himself better.

“You know the law commands that no one should remarry while still being married to another partner. What if- what if we get married first? That way-”

“That way the King’s promise will be null” You finished for him “Because the bride he promised is a married woman who cannot go over the law… Calum, that’s genius but how-?”

“I thought about it for a while when I came over the statement that ruled that no law should cancel another”

You looked at him confused, but with a smile showing on your face “And you’re telling me this now?”

He looked nervous.

“I-I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. It is a huge risk, not to mention a lot of responsibility as well, and I didn’t want to pressure you into marrying me if you weren’t sure you wanted that. I thought we could find another way out before the ceremony, so I kept it a secret for some time. I admit I was afraid of how you might react”

You answered him with a tearful chuckle as you jumped into his arms and crashed your lips to his as you caught him by surprise.

It was impossible to deny the happiness you felt as he responded to the kiss as eagerly as you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“If you thought for a second that I would ever say no to that, then you might not know who you’re asking for her hand in marriage,” You said, smiling against his lips, chasing them into another kiss as a complete feeling of euphoria came over you.

Calum smiled, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and picking you up as he spun you around, laughing along with you as your giggles could be heard from all around the woods, for you just made him the happiest man on earth.

“If we are going to do this,” He said as he put you down “Let me do this properly”

You felt your eyes filled with happy tears as you watched Calum get down on one knee in front of you. Smiling at you with bright brown eyes that shined like the stars from Orion above.

“Y/N,” He started “My love, my rose. God knows this is not the way I planned this; in my dreams we are sailing away to a new land, traveling the world as we share our dreams and make them come true before our eyes. In my dreams I had a ring to give you, a pretty speech prepared, and a thousand lights to illuminate the way you looked, bringing the start to shame.

But I have no ring, and the words that are coming out of my mouth come straight from my heart. But the moon does shine on you, my love and you’ve never looked so beautiful as you do.

I cannot offer much. I’m no royal nor do I own stacks of land that could be ever worthy of you, my love. I cannot offer you a house, I cannot offer you fancy dresses or expensive jewelry, I cannot give you the kind of life royalty deserves. But I can give you all my love as we made the world our home. Because all I need, Y/N, to live a happy life is for you to be by my side if you let me.

I knew I wanted to marry you since the moment I saw you standing in that pile of dirt when we were nothing more than children venturing in a world filled with adult problems. I knew I loved you then, even before I knew what love is. And, if you let me, it would be my honor to love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, my rose?”

You tearfully nodded, covering your mouth with your hands as you tried to prevent a sob from getting out.

“Yes,” You said softly before repeating it loudly “Yes!”

In an instant, you threw yourself into Calum’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you by your waist, helping you straddle his lap, one leg at each side of his hips, as he pushed your skirt to the sides so you’d be closer and more comfortable.

You wasted no time in pressing your lips against his, letting your hands play with his hair as he rocked your bodies together, deepening the kiss as far as you’d let him.

A little moan escaped your mouth when you felt his tongue press against your bottom lip. Calum took this opportunity to capture every sound you made as you granted him more access, parting your lips slightly and letting him explore more of you as you got drunk with his touch.

“Say it again” He begged, his lips now leaving kisses along your jaw as your fingers tangled and tugged on his hair, making him groan against your skin.

“Yes,” You whispered breathlessly.

You felt your skin on fire every time his lips trailed along your jaw and neck, kissing it gently as you melted against him. It wasn’t something new, you’ve kissed like this before and stopped before it turned into something else, but there was something about tonight.

You didn’t know if it was the proposal, the adrenaline, or the simple need of being together now more than ever since your future is still uncertain. But every single kiss, every sound, every move… it just made you crave it even more.

“Calum…” You breathed, tugging his hair to bring him even closer to you.

He muffled a groan into your neck, letting the smell of your perfume intoxicate him as you moved your hips closer to him, “Love, don’t do that” He whispered, almost begging you to stop as he knocked his forehead with yours “You know that if this goes any further, I might not be able to stop”

You’ve been intimate before, only not like this. It wasn’t uncommon for you to lay next to each other, whether it was on our bed or in the clear spot next to the tree. You would explore your bodies with soft touches and lingering kisses that always felt like the start of something but that never lead to anything other than whispered confessions and soft makeout sessions.

The need was always there, you both felt it before, but this time you had no intention of stopping.

“Then don’t,” You said softly, looking into Calum’s eyes as he raised his eyebrows in shock.

“Y/N…”

“Don’t stop, Calum, please” You whined, moving your hips again to gain some kind of friction between the layers of fabric as you felt how his cock hardened in his pants “I want it. I want you”

Calum stopped your movements altogether, holding your hips with one hand as the other one cupped one side of your face, making you look at him when he asked.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?” His breath was heavy, but his eyes were determined as he gazed into yours “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not one hundred percent-”

You placed your fingers on the top of his lips to silence him.

“I was yours since the day we met.” You whispered, a soft smile illuminating your face “I was yours the day I told you I love you. I was yours when we danced tonight and I’ll be yours forever for the rest of my life. Make me your wife, Calum. Be mine and make me yours again”

Something shifted in Calum’s eyes at the sound of your words as lust settled all over them. He wasted no time in pulling you closer to him, capturing your lips in a much more heated kiss.

It was entirely different from whatever you’ve experienced before with him. This kiss was sloppy, a mixture of tongues and teeth as he bit your bottom lip. The sounds that came from both of you died in your throats as you desperately acted upon your desires.

You pulled apart for one minute as you took the top part of your dress, throwing it god knows where as you tried to untie the knots of your corset. Calum took it upon himself to start kissing your neck again, this time with more freedom to roam across your collarbone. “Let me,” He said softly after a while, letting his hands take over yours as they started to undo the knots one by one.

Once you were free, you felt Calum’s hands cup your breasts, massaging them as you moaned softly, still moving your hips with a more steady and fast rhythm against his groin looking for some sort of release.

“Y/N,” Calum moaned, taking his hands off your breast down to your hips, halting your movements once again “Lay down for me, my love” He whispered, kissing your earlobe as you felt goosebumps all over your body.

Calum took off his suit jacket, laying it on the floor so you’d be more comfortable. You sat back on your elbows as you watched him take off his shirt, leaving him with his chest exposed to you.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him shirtless on top of you. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but the context is different now that you can admire his well-defined abs under the moonlight. You couldn’t resist letting your fingers caress his chest with barely-there touches over his muscles and nipples, making him let out a breathy moan as soon as you did.

But before you could go any further, he grabbed you softly by the wrist.

“Not yet, Princess,” He said, lust laced in every word as he let your hand go to start working on getting you out of that skirt and underwear.

He worked quickly, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt his eyes on you and your first instinct was to cover yourself even though shame was the last thing in your mind right now. Despite that initial response, you felt safe with him, the safest you felt in years.

Calum smirked playfully, shaking his head as he grabbed both your hands in his and pinning them over your head “Don’t hide from me, my love” He said, lips hovering over yours but never touching them as he started kissing the spot under your ear, leaving you breathless in a second.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift in pleasure as you felt Calum’s lips trail down to your breasts, kissing each one of them softly around the pebbled nipples, sucking and biting them as you felt your arousal grow with every new sensation.

Once he felt satisfied with the way you were moaning, he started kissing along your chest and down to your stomach, leaving a trail of fiery kisses until he stopped before reaching your core.

Calum let go of your hands which immediately flew to his hair when he started kissing the inside of your thighs, getting closer but not close enough to where you needed him most.

“Calum,” You moaned, feeling his breath over your entrance.

“Say it again,” He asked, kissing your right leg as his hands wandered over to your ass, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him “Say yes, again”

“Yes.” You said in one breath.

“Again” He demanded softly, kissing you over your mound.

“Yes.”

“Again”

“Yes, oh...”

No sounds came out of your mouth as he placed his lips over your clit, kissing it softly at first before starting to lightly suck on it. You then felt him lick a long stripe up your center, making you shiver each time as he always ended up at your clit, gathering your arousal in his tongue and moaning at the taste, sending glorious vibrations up to your core. He smiles when he feels you tug on his hair with every breathy moaned you let out, letting him know that you were enjoying this as much as he was.

Soon, you felt his fingers trace along your folds up and down, stopping at your entrance a couple of times before he pushed the first finger inside, making you both moan at the feeling.

Then, a finger became two as Calum started to move them inside and out of your tight hole at a fast pace while his lips remained attached to your clit, licking and sucking over it until you reached your first climax of the night.

Calum licked you through your orgasm, lapping on your arousal until he heard you whine thanks to the oversensitivity. Then, he pulled himself up, kissing a trail from your stomach to your lips.

You were seeing stars behind your eyelids as you tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning as you felt his hard, clothed cock brush over your sensitive core.

“Calum,” You whimpered as he pulled away from his lips to let his head fall to your side, kissing your neck with zeal.

“Tell me what you want, my love” He whispered in your ear, making your whole body shiver under him as he kissed your cheeks tenderly “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you the world”

“You, only you”

He smiled, prompting himself onto his elbows to kiss your lips again.

“I’m yours”

It took no time for Calum to get rid of his pants and thrust into you, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he kissed the pain away while he started to thrust slowly into you. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you over and over again until you begged him to speed up the pace, letting the sting of pain become one of pleasure every time Calum moved his hips into you, hitting every spot with ease.

You became one big pile of tangled limbs and shared pleasure, moaning and groaning your feelings of ecstasy as you held each other as close as you could. One hand caressing your sides while you alternated between playing with his hair and dragging your fingers down his back, feeling every muscle work as you wrapped your legs around him, letting him deeper and deeper each time.

You got drunk with the sound of each other’s moans as you reached your climax. Calum swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound than his name falling from your lips in total bliss as you clenched around his cock, making his thrusts slow down as he came with the taste of your name still on his lips.

"I love you," He said with a smile as wide as the sky, pulling you closer against his naked body "God, how I love you, my rose"

You kissed his lips softly, humming an "I love you" in between a content smile before saying:

"Calum?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Thank you for loving me"

You woke up sometime later, still wrapped around his arms as his jacket covered you both from the cold night. You let out a breath of relief as you realized that the moon was still high up in the sky, meaning that you still had a few hours before having to go back to the castle.

Calum slept peacefully next to you, holding you close as he let his chin rest above your head. You kissed his Adam's apple and softly giggled when he pulled you closer to his chest, you knew that you would always be safely wrapped around his arms and there was no other place you’d rather stay than with him.

It was almost incredible to believe that by tomorrow night you’d finally become husband and wife and that this will be your life forevermore.

No more castles, no more parties, no more dangers nor royalty duties. You will be together, finally be free.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ashley @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @lemonswizzle

126 notes · View notes

guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

In Your Hands--Ch. 3 [Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2]

[This whole fic is the second chronological installment of the Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[First Installment] [Ao3 Series]

“...A-Jie?”

“Mm?” Yanli opens her eyes, going from the deep red-orange of the sun on her eyelids to the fresh blue of the world. She cranes her neck around to look over at A-Cheng.

And finds that he’s no longer basking beside her and is instead sitting up, elbows on his knees, hands fiddling with something on the ground in front of him.

It had taken some convincing to get him to actually lay down in the grass with her as A-Xian and A-Yao man the kites for target practice below them in the waterfall grotto--he is so concerned with being proper and respectable that he hardly lets himself relax anymore. He isn’t even relaxing now. While his gaze is on the disciples playing and training below their bluff-top vantage point, his lips are tight, his face troubled. Sitting up, she scoots closer to him and nudges her shoulder up against him, playfully. “What is it, A-di?”

The wind dances over the dewy spots the sun-warmed grass had left on her robes, lifting up the fresh and living scent of plants and water as she waits for his jaw to work over the words before they come out. For all that he blurts out whatever he wants about (or at) Xianxian, he is always careful when it comes to something regarding her. So she waits, gentling her energy and leaning closer to rest her temple against his hunched shoulder, rubbing her thumb along the tough leather of his bracer.

“Are you...happy?”

She smiles, even though he can’t see it. “Of course I am, A-Cheng. It’s a beautiful day and we’re spending time together. Why?”

“I mean, are you happy...in general? With….” As he pauses, she follows his still stuck gaze and finds it on A-Yao in the shade holding a kite string, listening to something a shimei is saying with a patient smile. “I didn’t...we didn’t force you, did we? You really seemed to like that peac--well, you know. Wei Wuxian and I were wondering…” He looks back to his hands, twisting grass between them fitfully, but she sees his gaze dart to her sideways from underneath his eyebrows. “Are you happy?”

Sweet, romantic boys; the ones who had planned her wedding in full when they were only 8. Both still haunted by the wounds left by her parents’ relationship in their own way. Who had both been more than unimpressed with Jin Guangshan’s attempt at what he clearly saw was a hand-me-down marriage--a marriage they were apparently forgetting that, had she not insisted on for the good of the Clan, wouldn’t have even happened. “With you all taking such good care of me, how could I be anything but?” she teases, but his anxiety stays on his face, so she pets down his hair.

As for Jin Zixuan…. Yanli hadn’t flinched when A-Cheng had said his name, but that familiar drain had opened up in her chest, pulling her down and in until she’s a little smaller, a little sadder, a little...less. Yes. She had wanted to become worthy of that match, for her Clan, for her mother, who had promised her to it since she was just a girl. She had tried.

She just hadn’t been enough.

“Is he good to you?”

Yanli shakes herself from her thoughts and sits up. She laces her fingers together and cushions her chin on the back of them with a faux thoughtful air. “Hmmm, is he good to me? Well, let’s see. I think I’ve received about 4 more gifts from him this week alone and he practically waits on me hand and foot.” She grins despite herself, that familiar giddy curling in her belly. “I would certainly say so.”

At this easy reply, he slants a curious, self conscious look that fits the round faced child she can still remember better than a would-be-stern Clan Leader and hesitantly asks, “Are you...in love?” while waggling his finger back and forth, as if indicating the space between her and her husband.

She covers an unlady-like snort of laughter that threatens to escape before she bites her lip against its persistent aftershocks and lowers the hand. “Why do you ask that like you’re going to get in trouble?” Something about the way he asks it just seems so young.

Flushing, he squirms and looks back down the bluff, but she sees the smile trying to fight its way onto his compressed lips. “I’m just curious!” When she continues to grin, he shoots her a look of reproach and complains, “A-jie, don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not, I would never!” She laughs and rubs his shoulder to lessen the sting of the tease. “You’re so funny. But...I think...I don’t honestly know. I love talking with him and learning about him; I love...making him happy and seeing him smile. I get excited to spend time with him. I was always under the impression that being in love is something huge and earth shaking--from all the legends and epics--and when you know you know, but…” Yanli takes a deep breath of the clean, full air and looks back down, catching her eyes on the lovely, now-familiar shape of A-Yao in profile. Now, he’s looking up at the kites while shading his eyes, a small smile still on his lips. “But I’m just...happy. It’s lovely, with him, and honestly, I would be completely content if this is all it is.” It would be enough.

She searches this thought, a little, pushing at its edges. For a family? For children? To want? The answer within herself doesn’t feel nearly as urgent as it used to when it comes back with ‘Maybe. There’s no rush.’ She marvels a little at how much she actually believes it.

Watching her watch A-Yao, A-Cheng smiles tentatively in the side of her vision. “That sounds really nice, A-jie.”

“It really is. He’s very...doting.”

At this, A-Cheng snorts. “Unsurprising, considering how he was with Nie-xiong.”

“Oh? Were they close, A-Yao and Nie-er-gongzi?”

“He definitely was devastated when Jin-xiong was kicked out of the Unclean Realm. I always got the feeling that he was something in between a shixiong and a babysitter, but they always got along well, from what I saw. Actually,” he furrows his eyebrows thoughtfully, tilting his head as he watches the disciples milling about, joyful fragments of shouts drifting up with the breeze. “Come to think of it, I don’t know that he’s seen him since….They weren’t in contact during the Sunshot Campaign, we know that much. Maybe they got to talk at the banquet?” His face darkens at the memory--where Jin Zixuan had officially called off the engagement, but he doesn’t speak on it. “I wonder what Nie-xiong thinks of him being here.” His scowl lightens to mere irritation and he scoffs, voice testy, now, as he adds, “Hasn’t bothered to visit.”

Hmm. She plucks this blossoming idea like a little flower to keep for later. Perhaps this is something else she could give her husband.

And oh, that distant past, when she had first seen A-Yao in the classroom of the Cloud Recesses, standing humbly beside Nie Huaisang with his head down. A whole lifetime ago, when her family and Clan still lived and her biggest worry was Jin Zixuan’s aversion; it felt like an entire version of her had lived and died since. If she set herself to it, she could even remember the specifics, like how she had been impressed by his eloquence and the competence of his bearing--even when his parentage had been publicly mocked. In truth, she had been more focused on Wei Wuxian behaving at the time--to her shame. She had known it was wrong even while it happened, could have said something, anything at all.

At least she would, now.

Turning to smooth her hand down his cheek to soothe his ruffled feathers over Nie Huaisang’s neglect and difficult memories, she catches sight of A-Xian charging up the hill with fiendish purpose under the rolling shadow of a cloud. He canons into A-Cheng like a vaguely sweaty firework without slowing.

A-Cheng squawks in disgust as it bowls them both over into the grass and the two of them begin to scuffle about it. A-Xian pants, “Shijie, I don’t think your husband has ever shot a bow before! Ow! You shit!”

A-Cheng sits, grinning and triumphant, on the back of Xianxian’s shoulders, digging his brother’s face into the grass and dirt. But just for a second or two, before he is flipped off and pinned, until he is shoved over and on and on, growling insults and play threats at each other like wrestling puppies. Eventually, laughing, Yanli stands and tugs A-Xian’s arm from the writhing pile, more of a hint than actually physically intervening. But he obediently heaves himself up, sweating, panting, and grinning, all harder than before. A-Cheng gives him a faux-surly punch in the side in retaliation and it very nearly starts the whole thing over again until Yanli firmly puts herself between them with a grin, brushing grass clumps from their hair and clothes. “Honestly, you two! I don’t envy the laundry women, just look what you’ve done to your robes. I should make you two clean them!” A-Cheng at least pretends to look halfway chastised while smiling, but A-Xian just looks proud. That is, until she continues, “And I hope you didn’t embarrass A-Yao about it. You know he wasn’t raised with the same training we were.”

At this, he cocks her an half pout, tucking his chin down and sticking his lip out. “Shijieee, all I said was that he must be worried he couldn’t beat our youngest shidi because he wouldn’t even try. Then he started ignoring me!”

A-Cheng rolls his eyes and tuts, loudly, before saying, “You asshole,” just as Yanli sighs.

Shaking her head, she tilts it in gentle scolding. “Maybe because you compared him to an 8 year old? Xianxian. You have to be careful; you know what people say about him. He needs to be safe, here. Where did you leave him?”

“Oh, he’s still down there, organizing clean up. He wasn’t offended--unlike some people,” here, he shoves at A-Cheng’s shoulder, who elbows him back. “Just the usual smiley Lianfang-zun. You know how he is, shijie, he doesn’t get upset over stuff like that.”

He’s always smiling, that doesn’t mean anything, Xianxian. You of all people would understand that. Yanli raises an eyebrow, gentle but not smiling. His childish act mellows behind his dirt smudged face and he looks away, pouting for real and rubbing his nose. “Sorry, shijie,” he mutters.

“Mm, it’s not me you have to apologize to, A-Xian. It’s about time for you to organize cleanup now, don’t you think?”

He heaves a dramatic sigh, but grudgingly nods before perching on the edge of the bluff, shouting down through cupped hands. “Jin-gege-e-e, your wife wants you!” When he turns around, he points at A-Cheng nonchalantly. “You’re helping.”

“Oh, am I?” A-Cheng smirks, folding his arms and puffing up, very clearly preparing to pull rank.

“Uh, yeah, if you want this back!” Suddenly, A-Xian spins and sprints down the hill, holding his fist up over his shoulder.

“Wei Wuxian! What’d you take?! Hey! Stop!”

As he pelts down the hill after him, Yanli has to laugh because, in the second before he had run, A-Xian had had nothing in his hands at all. For a moment, in this new peace, she closes her eyes and folds her hands over her belly, savoring the sun shining warm--almost hot--on the top of her head and the playful shouts of her brothers and the disciples below. Then, she hears footsteps. When she opens her eyes, she sees A-Yao making his steady way up the hill, his face pleasantly blank. The closer he gets, however, his eyes warm and the edges of him soften until he is here, reaching out and taking her hands. “A-Li? What do you need?” He smells like grass and water and sun.

“Was A-Xian being terrible again?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh no, he’s just being Wei Wuxian. You look flushed--shall I walk you back?”

But day by day she is learning each of his little lies and she recognizes this as one of them. Strangely, as the weeks go by, the masks he wears have been bothering her less and less; partially because she is beginning to understand that they are protection for him. Like armor or clothing--he would feel naked without them. If she can still tell what he wants, if she can still peek under them, she is more than happy not to pry them from him when he still needs their safety. (Of course she wishes he didn’t feel like he needs them in their home, with the people who would be his family, if he let them. But, like growing seeds or proving dough, these things take time and that, they certainly have.) He is becoming less of an impenetrable fortress and more of a foreign land that she can more easily navigate as she learns the language. It allows her to leave these smiles hung up like beautiful paintings she can name. Underneath this, he is tense and displeased; his smile-curved eyes opaque, his jaw holding tension. This one is Humiliation.

Twining her arms around his trim waist, she thrills in that wanted way she does every time he lets her hold him before she tucks her cheek to his to murmur, “I told him not to tease like that. I know it hurts you.” While she may have become more inclined to leave him his shields when he puts them up against her, she can’t help but talk around it, just a little. She cares less about the hiding and more about the fact that he suffers.

“...It’s fine.” He says nothing more, but his hands move to hold her back, one smoothing up between her shoulder blades as his face tips down against her neck, nose and eyelashes pressing. Not a talking problem, then. So she rocks, a bit, from her ankles to her hips, swaying them both slowly together in the rustling breeze with something like playfulness and something like comfort. “What are you doing, this afternoon?” She asks the air behind him, eyes cast to the wisping clouds passing slowly across the sky.

“Mm, I had planned to organize a list of new merchants in the area for Jiang Wanyin. Is there something you need me to do instead?"

"Is it urgent?"

"Not that I saw. Why, A-Li?"

"I was going to make dumplings tonight and I would love it if you joined me. If you want," she adds, diffidently. “I made the dough this morning.”

He startles, a little, and draws back, looking genuinely surprised. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Then smiles warmly. “I’d be delighted.”

The sincerity of that smile makes her grin and she bounces a little on her toes--and he laughs. Clearly, he's pleased she wants to spend time with him. And she's pleased that he's pleased. And he seems to be pleased that she's pleased that he's pleased and around and around they go--it might have been embarrassing if it weren’t so fun.

It turns out that he’s as quick a study at being a kitchen hand as he is at anything else he does; he absorbs her instructions thoughtfully and works diligently, his noon-sky blue sleeves patterned with little whirls of teal tied back with a simple strip of cloth as he chops up the chives and garlic and ginger. His knife strokes are as rhythmic and sure as the kitchen is hot, with little wisps of breeze edging around the wet billows of spices and green and cooking pork. “You are so much easier to work with than Xianxian,” she tells him from down the smooth, sunbathed counter where she’s perched on a stool, rolling out the rounds of dough. “I love him dearly, but he tries to put absolutely everything in his mouth, even now.”

A tiny smile picks at the corner of his concentration tight lips. Then, with a flick of an eye to see if she’s watching, he wordlessly pops a little shred of ginger into his mouth from the neat pile he has made. “You!” Yanli gasps in delighted outrage at his audacity and leans over to ineffectually tap at the counter near his elbow--she can’t quite reach him, sitting down.

At this, he laughs outright and offers his wrist out, knife blade carefully angled away . She gives the back of his wrist a playful little swipe with her fingertips, leaving streaks of flour. “I thought I would make it a little more familiar for you,” he says, by way of excuse. “More what you’re used to.”

“Absolutely incorrigible,” she replies, fondly, righting herself again.

Here in the kitchen, where she has history and proficiency--where she is master--it’s as easy as anything to tease and tend with absolutely no worry at all. She isn’t agonizing if she is providing enough or saying the right things, because she knows exactly what must be done when, and he is masterful at following directions the very first time she gives them. Conversation is light and inconsequential around her instructions, and she is able to conserve her energy staying seated on the stool, maneuvering him about the kitchen as her arms with little guilt at all.

In what feels like no time, they sit beside each other at the floured, bowl littered counter; bowls of filling, of water, of flour. Their shoulders brush. “So you wet the edge like this, because the dough isn’t completely fresh anymore--”

“Mn.”

“And you spoon in about this much--not much more or it will burst in the pan.”

“This much?”

“A little more, I think. Perfect! Then, like this. Then you fold the sides.”

“Too much?”

“Mmn, next time it can be a little tighter, but that’s good for your first one! Pinch it and--beautiful!” She pauses a moment to savor the look of her husband with flour speckling his quick, capable hands and lean forearms, seriously contemplating the dumpling. “You’re a natural.”

The withdrawing he had done behind his shields that morning is nowhere in sight when he looks over at her with unmistakable pride in his bright eyes. “Well, I have a wonderful teacher.”

She bites her grin back and waves the compliments away, laying out the next wrapper in front of her. “Oh, you.”

“Where did you learn the art of food?”

“Liu-popo, one of our cooks! I think I first got interested because I was sick for a lot of my childhood and she always made me the most wonderful meals. And when we found out about my heart and my health...well….” Mother stopped pushing once she realized Yanli would never be able to keep up with the training of the other disciples because there was no way for her to improve. No way for her to contribute to the Clan in a meaningful way. “I had a lot more free time. My room was by the kitchens, and I have always loved the smells and the bustle of it all. The more I was there, the more Liu-popo would let me mix things, tell me how they worked and what flavors went together. At dinner, seeing people eat what I made...knowing I did that, knowing I made them happy and full…it felt good.” She gives a little smile and glances at him. “And there's so many things you can do once you understand the basics, too. You can experiment and make new dishes!”

He wets the edge of his next dough wrapper and says, conversationally, “Like Wei Wuxian and his talisman inventions.”

This startles a laugh out of her and sparks from her dangling earrings in the sun dance off the warm gold glow reflected from their bodies onto the wall around the window. “Oh, no, it’s nothing special.”

“Really? I think it’s very similar. You’re perfecting something and helping people. Bringing them together and taking care of them, feeding their bodies and keeping them strong? That’s just as important.”

She hesitates and looks out the window. She never thought of it that way. The lotuses are pearly and bobbing in the bright breeze, their heady scent sneaking in light and fragrant under the punch of the spices. Their brilliance under the sun leaves dazzling green after images when she blinks. “Do you think so?” Assigning that much importance to it seems borderline ridiculous--what she does and what her brothers do is hardly comparable at all. She struggles to make herself useful while they blaze their way through the world, changing it with their will and sword edges. They are proper cultivators, proper warriors.

There is a pause, then a gentle hand lays over her wrist, slightly gritty from the flour coating his palm. “If you had asked me what I would have preferred when I was in the Scorching Sun Palace--a talisman or a warm meal from someone who--” it feels like he swallows a word back here, smoothly substituting, “cares, I know which I would have chosen. Without question.”

Even this feels like a kind exaggeration designed to make her feel better--soup instead of life saving magic? But this little rare little bauble of personal experience he was handing her was something more important than soothing her pride, so she smiles over at him. “You’re very sweet. But what about you? You’re a natural! Did your niang teach you how to cook?”

At this, his face slides from serious earnest to pleasant veneer and, with a spike of cold anxiety, she fears she has put her hand on a door that she thought she was being invited into, only to find it forbidden. But he merely turns back to spooning in the pork filling and says, lightly. “I’m sure she knew how--she was well educated in most things. But we didn’t tend to frequent the kitchens.” There is a silence she fears is the end of this particularly enticing thread. But then, eyes still on the pre-dumpling, he says, “She taught me other things, though. How to read and write. Proper etiquette. The basics of a guqin….”

There is a pause, and this feels almost uncertain, him tilting on his toes on the precipice of a step she desperately wants him to take, so she hazards, “Like Lan-zongzhu.”

A smile, small and fond, before he forces it brighter at his hands, efficiently twisting the little peaks. “Just like. He’s had more formal training, of course, but she was able to play quite well.”

Yanli knows some of this, of course. His mother had been famous for how educated she was despite her occupation--the refined courtesan of Yunping. But that’s not who she had been to A-Yao. She had been his mother. “She was a very talented woman.”

“Yes.”

“You loved her very much.”

Softer, smile greying; “Yes.”

A silence stretches, a bird outside trilling to accentuate it, so she says, quietly. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about her, A-Yao. I didn’t mean to pry.”

That smile hikes wider and he looks over at her, where she can see in full the raw tension that hides just barely underneath and she wants to shower him with praise and thanks for the gift that it is. “You’re my wife, A-Li. There’s no prying; you can ask me anything you want to know.”

Mmhm, she thinks, I can ask, but you won't necessarily answer. What clever wording; sneaky. No need to push. Just like with A-Xian, she will let him take the time he needs to tell her what's wrong. As long as he knows she is always there to listen. “Well, I love hearing about her….” Then shyly, she adds. “Would she have liked me?

When his face softens completely, there is something in the corners of his mouth that makes her think of tears, though there’s no trace of it anywhere else. His voice is low when he says, “She would have adored you.”

She reaches out and touches his cheek with her flour coated hand, crumbling a swath of white up to his cheekbone. The way he’s looking at her is almost like yearning in his eyes, searching and wanting, even though she is right here, right with him, staying. A warmth rushes in her chest. “I would have loved to have met her, A-Yao. She must have been amazing--and you honor her so well.” It's truth. Nothing but.

Little lines pierce where his dimples should lie and he swallows, blinks. “...I try,” he says in a voice she has never heard from him before; it’s small. Clotted and uncertain. His eyes widen and he stiffens, and she feels him tightening, receding--so she pretends she doesn’t see it, pretends that she doesn’t know that that had been a slip of vulnerability that scares him.

She takes away all pressure--her hand from his cheek, her gaze from his face--and turns away to fuss over another circle of dough. Sprinkling more flour on the counter, arranging everything just so in front of her as she smiles. “Well, you’ve proven to be a wonderful kitchen hand, so you should help me make dumplings for all the holidays, since you’re so good at it. New Years and Dongzhi and--oh, I should teach you the dances we do for the Dragon Boat Festival! I perform one every year for Lotus Pier, when I can. Or,” she straightens with realization. “Oh!” When she turns to him, he’s considering the dumpling he’s pinching with far more concentration than is warranted. “Oh, you grew up in Yunping! Do you know any?”

He clears his throat without looking up, smile uncomfortable. “I know a few. Quite a few. My mother taught me to dance because she didn’t know any martial arts to prepare me for cultivation outside some of the books she managed to find. But she knew starting me in a physical discipline young would help. I’m...adequate.”

Even more corners of her life she could tuck him into! More things she could share with him! A way to draw him from the shell he’s desperately trying to retreat back into! Excitedly, she twists on her stool, swiping her hands on her apron. “Oh, show me, please, I want to see!”

The tips of his ears redden adorably, and he winces. “I don’t...A-Li--”

There are not many things she will push him on, except on matters where he paints himself as unworthy, but this! This she absolutely has to see, here, just them, sharing the things that make them who they are under the kitchen counter in private. “Please, oh, please! I’ll even dance with you, if you don’t want to do it alone! We’ll go together!” She stands and shrugs her shoulders to free her arms some mobility from where her apron captures the joining of her sleeves, letting her hands rest on the air in delicate anticipation.

He’s startled into looking up at her, eyebrows pinching. His face is colored in embarrassed alarm. “I only ever performed alone, my partner dances aren’t--”

Performed! She could crow. And she will get that story in time, oh yes she will. “Then you choose! Whatever you want, I’ll follow you! Whatever you want, whatever!”

At this insistence, reluctantly, slowly, he stands, dusting off his hands before untying the cloth that keeps his sleeves back. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, to her utter rising delight he shrugs out of his heavier blue outer robe entirely to drape over the edge of the rack of unpeeled vegetables. It leaves him in 2 lighter, tighter layers of shades of plum and navy. The lack of patterns on the fabric simplifies his lines, rendering him limber and neat as he places his feet just so.

Immediately it is clear that he is not merely adequate, as he claimed. When he lifts his hands, the intent behind them shows someone who has had control of their body’s movements from a very young age and knows where every square inch of it is at all times--no less talented or powerful than those lifelong cultivators that she knows. He is watching her. She glows with the trust of it all and follows his first step.

There is no music, and so she sees his quick tempo and meets it with a wordless, half remembered song, all ‘da da’s and breathless notes as they move. And they dance, wheeling tight in the modest space of the kitchen floor. The dance he chooses is, as he said, not usually a couple dance, but she knows it and mirrors him, light and lilting, stepping quick and smooth. Some of the sweeps of his arms and legs are the masculinized version of what she knows, so she reflects in compliment when she can--when the counters and bulbs of hanging garlic and strings of peppers don’t block her path. It’s amazing, it’s easy, it’s fun.

She watches his face flash pass during a turn--once, concentration; twice, surprise; thrice, realization. When he faces front, he looks tentatively pleased.

She arches her back and kicks up her foot in a sharp arc in improvisation, grinning cheekily and that real, crooked grin of his is back, with something different, something--is that teasing? Arms spread like wings for balance, he responds in kind, but the arc of it is wider, higher, until, for a single moment, the billow of his robes is a flower blossom on the impossibly straight line of his legs, up and down. She whoops in undignified awe in the middle of a measure, abandoning the tune.

In the end, she bumps the corner table with her hip and teeters a moment, arms wheeling for balance even as she laughs. When he catches her wrist and pulls her back, Yanli collapses onto him, arms around his neck as she giggles, helplessly elated. Struggling back upright, she grabs his face in her palms and plants a quick, hard kiss on his lips.

His fast breath tastes like ginger.

They are both flushed and panting in the heat of the kitchen, wisps of humidity frazzled hair escaping their respective guan and pin. And they are both grinning. “You must perform with me,” she wheezes.

Breathlessly, he lets out a short laugh, smile going wryer but not disappearing. “Ah, I doubt anyone wants to see me.”

“I do!”

Again, he chuckles. “Then I’ll dance for you.”

He’ll dance for her! That golden bubbling is back in her chest, permeating the whole of her until she feels like sunlight. “Think about it at least?”

With an air of extreme indulgence that tells her that he has thought and has already decided, he nods, one dimple pressed in deep. She lets it go. Oh well, next year.

He helps her sit because her lungs are tight and her legs going to jelly, but she is so helplessly pleased by him and the gifts he keeps giving her. So she kisses him again, because she likes to and she can, and feels his palms press her closer by her shoulder blades and feels so very very wanted.

#my fic #my stuff #peony to lotus #AT LAST. I CAN WRITE. Hopefully I'm going to write more tonight

56 notes · View notes

sparetimeimagines · 3 years

Text

Weakness | Bakugou Katsuki

tags; fluff, angst, hospital, ptsd

Part 1

Masterlist

He didn’t know how much longer they were going to keep you apart. His fingers were tapping. His body aching. His heart pounding.

He just wanted to see you. What was so difficult about that?

Another hour passed when he finally gave up.

The surgery was taking longer than he expected. How difficult could it be to sear someone up? The tissue is gone. The bone is gone.

The light indicating surgery is in session fades to off and immediately his attention is stolen, much like his heart those years ago.

“She was beautiful. Not the beautiful plastered on magazines and tv commercials. Beautiful like the flower. Organic. Delicate to the touch.”

From the moment Katsuki laid eyes on you, it frustrated him. He didn’t understand why you were so important. Why is it you out of everyone in the room that caught his attention? Some quirkless nobody.

“Hey Dumbass.” They were the first words you heard.

Bright lights, the anesthesia was wearing off and the machine let off a beat that was endless.

Those bold crimson eyes trace your body like they always had, but this time he felt different.

Guilt. Shame. He should have been there.

His hand raises but instantly he retreats.

How can he touch you? How can he deserve to feel your smooth skin under his callused finger tips?

Instead, he relies on his eyes.

They pay attention to every detail. The bruise on your cheek some of the bastard struck you. The burns on your arms from the tight rope he insisted on keeping you still. Bandaged up left hand that gives the illusion of a fist.

It was everything he feared. Well, at least you’re alive.

“Ka-” you start, but then realize your voices is weak. Maybe it’s not the best thing to speak right now. Instead, you watch him with your lazy eyes.

Instead of seeing the love in his eyes, you see hate. Disgust.

After all that time of waiting to see you -Begging to see you- he leaves.

The man you owe your life to storms out the room, slamming the door on his way, leaving you wondering what you did wrong. Your eyes travel down your body and you begin to remember everything that’s happened. Bit by bit, piece by piece you realize that there’s a part of your life that will never be the same again.

The nurses came in, adjusted your IVs and the doctor even made an appearance.

They were kind and generous with their time.

It started with the warnings. Like how you will have nerve damage. How you will still feel nerves in areas of your body where you shouldn’t. How you will never wear a wedding band on the proper finger.

That must’ve been the reason why Kacchan left.

But what they didn’t tell you is how to explain to someone that bad things happen when it’s not their fault.

The room went silent once you were alone despite the beeping from the machine.

Being left alone with your thoughts was the last thing you wanted right now.

When was he coming back?

Was Katsuki coming back?

The door opens with a knock, much softer and collected than anything Suki was capable of.

In walks the darkest of green hairs you’ve seen on a person with the heart the largest you’ll will ever find.

“Deku...”

He returns your weak smile ends step closer to the bedside.

“Y/N.“ His soft eyes welled up with tears however he clears his throat to hold him back. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” His hands slowly creep close to yours, trying not to irritate the IV.

It was a simple friendship you formed as children. Back then, you both were quirkless in a superhero world. It was something simple to bond over. You didn’t feel so alone.

“I see you’re covered in bruises.“ You crack a small joke just to lighten the tension, and a tear threatens to fall.“Aww Deku... don’t ever change.“ His soft face brings peace to mind for a brief second before you check back at the door, your face drops.

“I would never.“ Midoriya brings his soft smile to your attention until he notices something’s still wrong. His eyes glance down at your hand then back to your face which is bruised.

“Your hand…”

“Yeah, Deku“ you pause raising your left hand for the first time since surgery. Your eyes study each dressing that secures the casing meant for healing.

“They told me it’s never going to be the same again.“

They must be pushing some kind of drug to take away the pain...

“But I guess I already knew that... you know... since I was there when it happened.”

“I’m really sorry.“ He says closely watching the injured limb. “I should’ve been there for you. You must’ve been so scared.“

“I was.“

He doesn’t say anything for a short moment, time passes when one thing comes to mind.

“Midoriya.” You start, gathering the courage to ask him what you really wanted to say. “Did you see Kacchan?”

You pause for a moment yet he doesn’t say anything until his eyes match mine.

“Y-yeah.” He chokes. “He was running out as I came in.”

So he really did leave...

Midoriya sits in silence as you observe your hand.

“I don’t understand, Deku.” You start, watching the clock on the wall tick. “Why would he leave me?”

“Don’t think of it like that, Y/n. I think he’s just afraid.”

“Kacchan’s never been afraid, Deku.”

“I wouldn’t believe that, Y/N.”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

Yelling and loud commotions distract the conversation to the hallway.

Your eyes grow heavy from the medication as the yelling comes closer.

“Sir visiting hours at this time is for immediate family only. You-” The nurse is cut off by the harsh voice yelling in the hall.

“I am her only family.” He replies winded, passing the nurse to find Midoriya and you.

“Sir.” The nurse warns.

“Deku, what the hell are you doing here? Get lost, you Nerd.” He shoves past Midoriya, putting distance between the two of you.

The nurse stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“Visiting hours are over.”

Midoriya immediately abides by the rules while Katsuki refuses standing his ground.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“She needs her rest.”

Midoriya meets the nurse at the door and asks to speak with her outside the room leaving you two alone.

“I’m back. I’m sorry. I’m not leaving you again.” He reaches for your hand then hesitates seeing the IV.

“It’s ok, Suki.”

He notices your eyes and realizes you’re wearing down.

“Are you ok, Petal?” His voice softens while his touch is sensitive.

Your lips form into a firm line and you manage to move over.

“Lay with me tonight.” Weakly, you pat the uncomfortable mattress. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The blond grunts and climbs into the bed without hesitation, aware of your injuries and comfort.

His head against the pillow, he flattens his back enough to pull you into his arms.

“You’re my everything, Y/N.” He mumbles into your hair leaving his lips pressed against your forehead. “You make me weak.” He mumbles.

“I do what?” You must not be hearing this right.

“That’s not what I meant.” He sighs. “You’re my weakness.”

Bakugou presses his head atop yours and embraces his silence. His rough fingertips gently slide over the wounds randomly scattered across your skin.

“You know I went crazy trying to find you.“

For once he’s actually keeping his tone low. You weren’t sure if it was how he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s soft on the inside or if it’s something else. “I couldn’t sleep. There’s no way I could’ve relaxed knowing that bastard had you.“

He pauses brushing the hair out of your face. “I had to find you. There’s no one in this world that means as much to me as you do.“

At that moment it wasn’t the aggressive explosion everyone is used to.

At that moment his guard was down and all he saw was you.

“The media got word. They were trying to break in the hospital to see you. They want pictures of you with your wounds. I had to do something about it.” His voice turns into his aggression, his anger begins to make a comeback when you squeeze his hand.

“When I left. I forced them to leave. They were…” he struggles. “They were talking about your parents. Calling them fallen heroes. Said that bastard murdered your family... This was their chance for a shot of glory. I wasn’t gonna let them turn you in to nothing.”

There’s so many emotions going through his system; he can’t decide on which he wants to use.

Anger. Guilt. Disgust.

“I wanted to do this the right way. Lights, candles, by the water the way you like. Under the gazebo where you can see the stars. I wanted everything to be perfect.” He stops to look at your damaged hand. “But... now, I realize time is so valuable, and life is so vulnerable. You’re my family and you mean everything to me.” He starts to get choked, and even though you’re the one who needs help, you are the one who needs to be taken care of, YOU are the one who’s making sure he is ok.

“Su-“

“Let me finish!“ He chokes with a short fuse. “Let me finish.“ He repeats himself with a much softer voice, hardly over whisper. You look to him and he has a soft smile almost hidden behind his angry eyes.

“Petal, I’ve loved you since we were kids. Since we were so young we didn’t know what love was. When I couldn’t find you, I was devastated. I didn’t understand that you were everything I’ve ever wanted. When there was a chance that i would never see you again, I felt a part of me break.” His voice is choking once more. “Great now I sound like some nerd.” he chuckles sniffling away his tears.

“You bring out the side of me that’s so dangerous and I wanted nothing more than to see you smile. You scare me; and nothing scares me in this world.“ He gets frustrated and pulls out an object from his pocket.

“Look, I’m trying to say I love you. And I never wanna see anything happen to you. I know things have happened, and our lives may never be the same again but I’m willing to work at it if you are.”

From his pocket he exposes a black velvet box. It’s small in his hand but you couldn’t believe your eyes.

The beautiful diamond that sat in the ring was more than anything you could’ve ever asked for.

“I saw it and immediately thought of you. It’s you. It’s you.”

By now he’s sobbing. Like the diamond, unlike any thing you’ve ever seen before, the energy he’s giving off, everything that he said would’ve fooled you into believing he’s somebody else.

“Who are you?” You ask, looking from his face to his hands and back to his face again. He chokes and sits up straight.

“Your husband if you let me.”

The machine beside you begins to be wildly, and the nurse along with Midoriya who is outside we came rushing in, exposing the moment between you and Bakugo.

“Get out you nerd.” He yells Midoriya who stutters.

“N-no. I need to see what she says.” The moment of bravery from the green one has you confused. The ring in the blond’s hands and shocked look on the green one’s face leaves you speechless.

“Well what do you say?“ Bakugou flushes from his cheeks and all you can do is nod.

“I promise you. When everything gets straightened out, I’ll make you the happiest person in the world.”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo imagine #bakugo angst #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha bakugou #my hero academia #my hero x reader #my hero headcanons #my hero imagines #kacchan #bakugou

140 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Bride in White. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

When you had fantasized about this day in your youth, this is not what you had desired.

In those days, you pictured how you would count down the days until your wedding. Mulling over a dress you wanted to wear, one that was within your budget but pretty nonetheless. Maybe an outdoor venue, friends and family alike joining together to witness your union. There’d be butterflies in your stomach as you held onto your bouquet, breath hitched. Most important of all, the one who would be waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

A person you truly loved.

Eerily, certain lavish elements align with what you would’ve wanted. Almost as if he peeked in your mind and stole it for himself. The venue you were to be wed reminded you of a whimsical fairy tale, indulging you in its architectural beauty. A cathedral with warm, earth tone colors with tall ceilings that reached to the heavens. Colored sunlight shone through broad, mosaic windows, illuminating aisles of wooden pews.

“I’m not a pious man,” Giorno had claimed, as he monitored you with his eyes. He must have mistaken your wide eye look for acceptance of the situation. “But it feels right.”

But it feels right.

Those four words haunted you the moment they left his roseate lips. He couldn’t have expressed the gravity of your situation, the living nightmare of your life more perfectly if he had tried. Every freedom he readily plucked from you like a flower petal, all the undesirable parts of you that he trimmed away, planting you wherever he saw fit to soak in your beauty. The single difference you can find is a flower will eventually wither away to nothing and wilt.

Whereas Giorno, your ever dutiful lover, cruelly refuses to let you meet the same fate.

All of this was thrusted upon you because it felt right to him. He’s assured that this is what love is and you’d be a fool to think otherwise. What happened in his past to delude him into believing this sick parody of love is right? Questions like this will remain unanswered, Giorno skillfully dodging them with ease when presented with your numerous concerns.

Freedoms you were generously given did little for you. Giorno took care of a majority of the planning, considering what minuscule input you offered. Whether it’s because he envisioned your union in a particular way -- or he was tired of your lackadaisical responses to wedding detail questions -- he stopped asking. The illusion of choice he presented you with was insulting in your eyes.

You don’t want to choose the flavor of cake, what orchestral arrangements are to be played during the reception, or what kind of veil you’ll wear. It’s as macabre as preparing for your own funeral down to the letter, you concluded. No, none of those frivolous things will bring you the true desire of your heart.

Living your life as you did before meeting the Don of Passione.

“I-is it to your liking?”

A young woman around your age asks, pulling back to allow you to see your own reflection. The person working on your hair continues in silence, the pair only speaking to you when absolutely necessary. It’s not like you can blame them, you think bitterly. Treading carefully and minding your mannerisms is an all too familiar dance.

“Yes, thank you.” you offer in response after brief deliberation, to which she lets out a shaky sigh of relief. A fluffy brush dances across your face as she continues her work, blending together your foundation or making small touch ups when necessary. Seeing your own somber reflection being dolled up stirs unknown emotions within you, almost prompting you to laugh humorlessly.

Your hair has been pulled back into a loose braid. Woven into your hair are flowers, likely created by Gold Experience. From light pink juliet roses to white hydrangeas, all stunningly beautiful despite your inner hatred for what they represent. It’s not that Giorno can’t afford to obtain flowers from other sources. The act of claiming you is what this represents.

Highlight that compliments your skin color is set upon your cheekbones and lightly dusted onto your nose, cheeks subtly rosy from blush. The color of your eyes is brought out by smokey eye shadow, eyelids covered in flecks of gold then finished with dark winged eyeliner. Lastly, in the color that Giorno had picked out himself, your lips plump and covered in a deep pink.

As for the dress, Giorno considered your minimal input when deciding on it. Weeks of fittings and measurements in his private villa come flooding back to your mind, the irritating experience bestowing upon you an extravagant dress. A sweetheart neckline, with a mermaid silhouette that extended past your feet. It has a bare back, with a long cathedral chain behind you. The fabric clings to your curves beautifully, made of lace and tulle.

It’s hard to justify messing up their work, as much as you’d love to. As innocent bystanders in this entangling mess, you loathe the thought of them getting in trouble for your tantrum. Knuckles tightening by your sides until your nails press painfully to your skin, you stop only to realize how it’d displeasure Giorno to see your beautiful skin tainted by crimson.

A door opens behind you, the sound of fine orchestral accompaniments growing louder. In the mirror, you’re able to see one of your bodyguards, Fugo. His normal outfit riddled with holes replaced by a coal black tux, gaze serious as ever.

“She walks out in five minutes. Is everything done by now?” he asks in a way that leaves room for little argument. Fugo has always been a no nonsense type of man, the stress from keeping a monumental event like this safe and moving along weighing down on him. Your hairdresser doesn’t look back while she responds, adding final flourishes while time allows.

“It will be. We’re just wrapping up now.”

Fugo runs a hand through his hair, sighing but nodding his head. For privacy he closes the door, likely standing by it for added security. The comfort of this room will soon be left behind you, as much as you want to stay hidden away forever. All you can think is this aspect will be over after today, though a much crueler fate awaits you with open arms.

After what feels like a too short amount of time, they begin prompting you to stand, handing you your bouquet of expensive and vibrant flowers. Your grip on which is weak, hands shaking too much to gain a proper grasp. Taking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you do everything within your power to quench this stifling anxiety.

With no rest for the weary, Fugo once again opens the door. He meets your gaze, lips set in a tight frown but not commenting on your aghast expression; likely in an act of mercy towards you. He silently offers you his arm to steady your teetering figure, to which you shake your head. You’ve made it this far on your lonesome, the rest of the world failing you at every opportunity.

It’s more of a symbolic act now since you’ll have to take his arm later, Fugo being the one to give you away in the stead of your father. This is one of the conditions you presented to Giorno in return for your full compliance, that he leaves your family alone from all mafia related circumstances, this included. He seemed more than pleased at the time to accept his beloved’s request.

Wedding veil gingerly placed atop you, all the preparations steps have been completed. There’s no other acceptable excuses you can present at this moment, the calling before you beckoning. Fugo prompts you to walk out with him, a hallway not long enough for your liking in front of you.

Each step takes every ounce of your willpower. All you can hear, like a mantra within your own mind, is that you need to get yourself together. That’s the deal you made with him, the one that you need to stick by in spite of yourself. For the safety of those you care about, you must present yourself as a perfect and overjoyed bride.

Two intimidating looking men dressed for the occasion stand on either side of the large doors, ready to open the gates of your own personal hell. Fugo nods to them, his authority within the organization prompting them to open the doors to the chapel. At the very second of doing so, the orchestra changes their song to the bridal chorus.

Rich sounds of the organ flood your ears, lips quivering at the crushing sound reverberating within these tightly packed walls. The sensation of hundreds of faceless strangers staring at you makes your knees go weak, all of them now standing out of respect for your soon-to-be husband. None of them mean anything to you, but you’d be a fool to not acknowledge their importance. From politicians to fellow mafiosos, all eyes are on you.

Sensing your hesitation to continue walking, Fugo gently nudges you forward. The act breaks you from your momentary stupor, allowing you to continue down the aisle with faux grace. Running out of other sights to look at, your gaze hesitantly falls onto Giorno, who grows closer by the second.

He’s composed, as you’ve come to expect from him. There’s an image of rigidness that needs to be maintained with being a Don. His lips curl into a content smile when your eyes meet. Every ounce of your being screaming, pleading, for you to look away. To run away. Yet you can’t, the logical side of your brain being won over by the intensity of his presence.

Your body moves in a trance-like state towards him, drawn to his serene expression and loving eyes. Otherworldly is how you describe him in this moment, sunlight shining against his golden hair which is loose from the normal braid. No expenses were cut on his own outfit, wearing a luxurious navy blue Givenchy suit.

There’s no denying that the devil incarnate is nothing short of beautiful.

Fugo goes to shake Giorno’s hand, instead of your real father. He gives you one last look before descending down the stairs and taking his seat in the front row. Now feeling all on your own, you feel the anxiety from before returning in full force. What frightens you the most now is how gentle Giorno’s emerald eyes are, how much heartfelt love shines within them for you. It feels like his gaze pierces through your being, capable of reading every thought.

Offering him a smile that you pray he finds satisfactory, Giorno lifts the veil over your face.

“I’ve never seen someone so breathtaking.” he mutters under his breath, only for you to hear. Goosebumps dot your skin at his affectionate proclamation.

He then turns to look to the altar. You mirror this action, seeing an eldery man who must be the priest. Seeing his lips move, you faintly process that he’s addressing the two of you. All the world slows down as your fate is sealed, head growing dizzier by the second. This stifling atmosphere all but grabs you by the neck, suffocating you. Body on autopilot, you respond only when prompted to do so.

Now time for rings to be exchanged, Giorno grabs your hand with utmost care. He smiles at you, one that’s different than normal. One that doesn’t have hidden intentions behind it, an agenda to manipulate your feelings. No, this comes from the depths of his soul. From his overflowing love for you, that drowns out any other sensations.

He places the ring on your finger, expensive diamonds and gold band sliding on with shackles. “With this ring I, Giorno Giovanna, take you, [First], to be my own. To have you by side and support you until I draw my final breath, to love you with everything that I am and more. Let this be a symbol of our union that will last until the end of time itself.”

Words flow from his mouth with practiced ease, silver tongue threatening to draw you in. Your heart rate hammers away as you realize it’s your turn to speak your own vows, no longer protected by having to repeat someone else’s words. Giorno required of you to write it yourself, one of the cruelest things he could’ve had you do.

To speak of an abundance of love for someone you have nothing but deep abhorrence for.

Giorno’s eyes flicker at your lack of response, muscles of his jaw taut. A darkness momentarily seeps within his expression, one that you recognize all too well. This is the Giorno that you know. Lightly clearing your throat in mock sentiment, you pass it off as being choked up. Placing Giorno’s ring onto his ring finger, you shiver as your skin brushes against his.

Recalling the dishonest words, you speak them through a forced smile. “With this ring I, [First], take you, my dearest Giorno, to stand by you through the trials of life. The joys of my life are brought to me by you, and now I wish to return the favor. Allow me to repay you by being yours, and may nothing stand between us.”

Any signs of malice have melted away, a beaming expression taking their place on his countenance. Every word brought bile to your throat, numerous lies spilling from you like sweet venom. Your impeccable acting goes unnoticed, as he draws closer to you. Or maybe he does notice it but wants to delude himself into believing you’re being honest.

“By the power vested in me by God and man, I pronounce you wife and husband. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may kiss your bride.”

Warm hands on both sides of your face caress you, the pads of his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. What’s meant to be a tender moment causes your blood to run cold, hairs on the back of your neck standing at the realization of what this next action means. Giorno leans forward, long eyelashes fluttering shut. Soft lips mold against your own in a chaste kiss, your body tingling and scent of his rich cologne enveloping you.

He lingers for a second longer, before pulling back a few inches. Golden locks tickle your skin, his warm breath fanning against your flustered face. Giorno greedily drinks in the unfolding events in front of him, wordlessly portraying to you the depths of his obsession. You can only imagine what he’s thinking, and what it means for you. He feels like he’s won, that this victory will cement your place with him.

Closing his eyes once more, he offers you his arm. Understanding the gesture, you take it without protest. The smile never leaves his face as he turns around to face those who have gathered to the ceremony with you at his side.

Meaningless cheers erupt behind you, a once in a lifetime event of witnessing the union of Passione’s Don filling the air with palpable electricity. As you assume he wants, you follow Giorno’s lead by walking out towards the large wooden doors. His grip on you is tight, both physically steadying and emotionally unsettling you.

Going through the motions, is what you decide this detached state of existence is. Pushing through the numbness that threatens to take hold, you smile your best dazzling smile. It all happens in a flurry, crowds parting to allow for your safe passage. Once you walk out the Cathedral doors, you’re met with grains of rice fluttering onto you from either side and more delight.

All the faces that go by you like a blur appear overjoyed, paling in comparison only to Giorno. In the time you’ve had to share with him, you’re incapable of recalling seeing him this thrilled. The day is long from over, an outdoor reception already set up for you to sludge through. At least for this aspect, you doubt anyone will speak to you directly. Or if they do, it’ll be a predictable conversation that you already have designated answers to give.

Their attention will mostly remain on Giorno, congratulating him on the union. You wonder if some poor soul learned through experience that it’s unwise to have their eyes linger on you for too long. Giorno is a walking contradiction, wanting to both present his beautiful lover yet setting boundaries to prevent people from getting too close for his liking.

As you predicted, congratulatory words are shared hundreds of times. Hours pass of the same, monotonous routine. The one aspect that causes you to subtly stiffen every time is when an individual addresses you as Mrs. Giovanna. It feels like a part of your identity has been stolen, among all the other things he has taken from you.

“Do you need to rest? We’ve been standing for some time.” Giorno whispers into your ear, after a mafioso expressed his regards to his Don. You shake your head, not wanting to be alone with him. With all these people around, you oddly feel safer. Though none of them would stand up for you as it’s a certified death wish.

“I’ll be alright,” you respond to him with a sigh, lowering your head to look at the tile underneath you. “It’s just been a lot.”

Giorno considers your words, searching for emotions that aren’t there. You distract yourself by looking around, feeling content that these people are having fun even if you’re not. Families speaking amongst themselves enjoying the fine catering, partners dancing and almost everyone holding a wine glass. Asking him never felt like a priority, but you do wonder how much this spectacle cost.

As the evening progresses, the sun lowers into the sky. Beams of orange and yellow mixing together enrapture everything in sight, the scent of delicacies and wine mixing together. Milan is an enrapturing city. All day you’ve had no appetite, Giorno having to convince you to eat something. Looking down at the plate that he brought you, a slice of buttered focaccia is what you settle on.

Speaking of Giorno, he left your side for the first time in hours to speak to some security. You feel like it’s easier to breathe outside of his presence, though the respite won’t last much longer. As expected, he returns to you and extends his hand. You hesitate before grabbing it, to which he helps you up.

“We’ll be heading to our hotel now.” he instructs you, leading you to the curb where a limousine awaits. Ever the gentleman, Giorno opens the door for you to take your seat before sitting next to you himself. A final group of cheers for the new couple break out, before the crowd is behind you.

Only the low drum of the engine fills your ears, your lap holding your interest. Feeling emotionally drained to the core, you don’t offer any resistance when Giorno lays his hand over your own. Working up the courage to look at him, you’re met with a serene expression. He loosens his tie some, upward curl of his lips never faltering.

“Cara… you looked troubled,” he squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Is something bothering you?”

“Ah. I’m not used to all that attention and socializing.” you admit in truth, a sheepish smile of your own creeping up. Giorno is the only person who you have contact with on a regular basis. You forgot what it was like to converse with strangers, even in passing. Giorno seems to understand, bright green eyes softening.

He reaches to a pen in his jacket, and before your very eyes, it turns into an impressive burgundy rose. Giorno’s ability is a mystifying one, no matter how many times you witness it. He quietly laughs at your wide eye look, before tucking it behind your ear.

“We’ll be alone soon enough.”

It’s a phrase meant to soothe you, yet it has the opposite effect. A hidden meaning glimmers underneath the surface, one that you anticipate.

Still in a dreamlike state, you eventually arrive in a luxurious suite. This is one of the finest hotels in Milan, with a vast view of the historic city. Placing your hand to the glass of the window, you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. Not feeling the need to turn around to greet your husband, Giorno makes up for it by wrapping his arms around your torso.

He presses himself against you, head lowering to the crux of your neck to take in your scent. A perfume that he chose for you. His lips ghost over your pulse, appreciating how it gains speed at his teasing touch. He knows this body well. This is a culmination of all he’s desired, the payoff of you before him. Giorno’s hands hover up to your shoulder, where he plays with the straps of your dress.

You close your eyes.

Lifting his head to your ears, you shiver at his low declaration. “Now, give all of yourself to me, mio bellissimo amore.”

#giorno #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #yandere giorno #giorno x reader #yandere giorno x reader #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #yandere #yandere jjba #jjba 5 #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #yandere imagine #yandere scenario #my stuff #commission #yandere commission #commissions

617 notes · View notes

lhaewiel · 2 years

Text

So, thanks to @raging-red-lotus-of-qinghe I managed to create a proper OC :D

Just remember, this is just for funsies

Under cut for everything.

Her name is Shao Ying Yue.

The Shao family is a clan of lantern makers - they do use their cultivation in the specific flavour of being able to light up the lanterns they make and create awesome effects.

They are a small neutral clan at the border of the Qishan area and mostly live making and selling their lanterns.

They live relatively in peace until the war breaks and the Shao clan is caught in the middle of everything. SYY loses her whole family whilst fleeing to Qinghe for refuge.

She manages to reach Qinghe and to keep herself busy and not think about her loss she starts aiding the refugees.

Her outfit is simple and rough, good enough for her to do her duties.

She still makes lanterns to keep herself close to her family and to bring whatever joy she can to the people around her.

This makes her very good friends with pretty much everyone in the camp, so when Sunshot campaign ends she manages to travel to Yunmeng where she establishes her own lanterns shop.

Her lanterns quickly gain fame around the area and several celebrations are made with them.

Her outfit would look like this by now.

She meets Jiang Cheng in the occasion of Yanli's wedding. He has heard praises about her lanterns and wants them for the wedding, so he strolls in with Madam Jin, with whom he is organizing the wedding and the moment JC and SYY lock eyes they feel a connection.

So she makes the lanterns for the wedding, all whilst in full denial of her feelings - JC is the same in a more angry flavour.

Things go as per canon and there is a hot long moment lasting for several months and she does not hear from JC. That until she hears the whole ordeal from Head Disciple Xu and Wu Liling, who stopped by when she recognized them.

And then she decides that feelings can wait, but the man needs some sort of comfort, so she makes a lotus lantern and goes to Lotus Pier.

JC has just come out from a week where he has screamed himself hoarse and he is still very disheveled and mute and with a blank stare. She saddens, but she just leaves the lantern with the words "I know how you feel, Sect Leader Jiang, I lost my whole family too. I hope this lantern can bring you a bit of consolation" and then she goes back home to cry cos she can't do much more.

I am also a big fan of "let's make JC happy again regardless" and this is going to be VERY self-indulgent on my end as if anything before this point has not been lol.

JC, after finally collecting himself properly, notices the lantern and remembers SYY's words and he decides that whatever happens he is not going to waste an occasion - rewind to Wen Qing and the comb.

He decides to go to her shop with a courting gift - new brushes and colours.

She is surprised, but happy. Now they both reveal that there is something going on for the both of them and they both decide on starting proper dating. She is indeed very nice and motherly to Jin Ling and that's a plus - and also she demonstrates that she has if not all of them most of the characteristics that JC is looking for in a wife.

And so, nearly a year later, they decide that they can get married.

Situation post wedding:

One daughter and two sons

Two cats - dogs may be forbidden, but cats are not

Happiness for JC

Some support for when shit hits the fan

And SYY embraces in full her status as Jiang Furen

#shao ying yue #the untamed OC #the untamed #very self indulgent #I had fun tho

2 notes · View notes

calpops · 4 years

Text

engagement party | c.h.

Your engagement party with Calum goes off without a hitch and questions about the wedding get answered with grins and full hearts.

1.3k words

dates with cal masterlist

<< >>

Thousands of blooming flowers surround you, stems and petals and fairy lights creating a demure glow to the night. People linger all about and Calum stays at your side. The ring on your finger glimmers under a full bright moon as friends and family come up to congratulate you both and take a peek at the opal and flecks of diamond. You wear a smile that doesn’t go away and Calum matches you, eyes crinkling and hands squeezing yours. He’s dressed up but not as much he will be for the wedding, images of him in a proper tux invading your thoughts. His parents and Mali even made it to the party, Calum flying them out without a second thought after the night he consoled you and promised you he and his family were your family now.

Michael and Luke come up at the same time with their partners on their arms and genuine happiness for the both of you on their faces. Small talk ensues about the wedding before Calum clears his throat and gives them both a knowing look.

“You’ll both be in my groom’s court?” Calum asks though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have to. They’re his brothers and would never say no.

“Obviously,” Luke says and claps Calum on the back. The unasked question of one of them being the best man doesn’t phase either of them. You’re pretty sure everyone knows who that will be; there’s no envy or hard feelings about it. You’re also pretty sure they’ll all circle around to each being a best man for each other at some point.

“Couldn’t stop me even if you tried,” Michael joked, the entire group laughing but knowing the joke was quite honest. “I really didn’t know this day would ever come,” Michael continued, a teasing air to his tone. “Until the day he came back from your first date. Then I figured it would happen eventually.”

You go warm through a night breeze at Michael’s admission and look to Calum who only smiles at the told truth. The bench you sat on for your first date is just ahead of you, memories of sweaty hands and blushing cheeks, gentle small talk, a walk home and an even more gentle kiss on the cheek flood you. Calum quietly recounts that day to the group who coo at the memory. The botanical garden is the perfect place to celebrate the engagement. It had been in Calum’s plans since he decided to buy you a ring and ask you to marry him. Ashton comes through the small crowd suddenly, a glass of sparkling cider in his hands and amusement in his eyes.

“I told Calum to propose to you here,” Ashton says with a shrug. “Not that it would’ve happened that way anyway,” he says with a knowing eye. You go flush at the comment but Calum pulls you closer, fits you under his arm and shakes his head. The night of the proposal had been a bit of a disaster but a yes and the next day had made up for it tenfold.

“I wanted to save it for this… and the wedding…” Calum trails off and looks at you. “If you’d like that?”

You’re nodding before words of confirmation can form. He’s smiling. The group rings in with their approval and comments of how beautiful that will be. “I would. Can we? Is it possible?” You inquire. The engagement party being here during closing hours is one thing, but a wedding during business hours is another.

“I’ve already looked into it,” Calum confirms with a nod and dips down to kiss your cheek. “But we can look for other venues too, just to be sure.”

You shake your head. You’ve already got images of the wedding here in your mind. The crowd of close friends and family mingling with flowers and lights helps to bring the picture alive. A wedding arch where the bench you first sat would be divine with blossoming marigolds behind you, possibly even intertwined into the lattice work of the arch you can conjure up in your imagination. You don’t want to be married anywhere else.

“No, this is perfect,” you say, mind made up without needing to venture anywhere else.

The group starts to disperse so other people can congratulate you but Calum holds Ashton back.

“I gotta ask you something,” he says and makes Ashton pause and turn back around to face you both. You already know the question that will pass Calum’s lips. “Would you be the best man?”

Ashton’s grin is splitting, dazzling against the background of highlighted flowers. He nods through his words. “Of course. I’m so happy for you two,” he says and pulls you both into a hug with his drink splashing around the rim at the motion. Ashton and Calum both choke back what could be tears.

“Thanks mate, for everything,” Calum says as you realize how much Ashton has done for Calum and for your relationship with him. He was the one to fly to London with him to help pick out the ring with Mali, the one to help plan the proposal that accidentally happened twice. You have no doubt he will be the best best man.

“Anytime,” Ashton promises and steps away so Calum’s parents and Mali can take his place.

You have your own question to ask Calum’s sister. As soon as she’s in hearing distance you’re blurting it out—a lot less practiced than Calum’s question for Ashton—and she’s nodding as she wraps her arms around you, forcing Calum’s hold from you in favor of hers.

“I was wondering if you’d ask me to be the maid of honor,” she said as she pulled away from the hug.

“I told her you would,” Calum comments and throws his hands up in surrender when you give him a look for ruining the surprise. “She wouldn’t drop it. I had to tell her,” he defends and Mali corroborates for him.

“There’s no one else I’d want up there with us,” you promise much to her delight and satisfaction.

Mali and Calum’s parents wish you both well and move on for others to come through but you pull Calum aside when you want a moment alone. Crowds—even small ones with only people closest to you— have never been your favorite. You need a moment to catch your breath and calm down, Calum’s presence always helpful in those endeavors.

“Doing okay?” He questions, concern evident in gentle brown eyes.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, you are okay, you’re overwhelmed with happiness at what the future holds and all that this party means. You sigh, unsure you can put that into words. Instead you settle for, “I can’t wait to be married.”

Calum smirks. “I can’t wait for the honeymoon,” he says and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. He’s delicate with you and his words are enough to get you to laugh. You needed this moment alone with him more than you first realized.

He wraps his arms around you and kisses the side of your head in your moment of being alone with him and bliss. Your friends and family linger out in the garden while you soak up Calum’s affections and jokes.

“Will you ever tell me where this honeymoon might be?” You wonder aloud, Calum having told you he had it taken care of.

“No, that’d ruin the surprise,” he says. “Just trust me.”

“I do,” you reply and grin at the word choice you will be saying again soon enough. Calum catches it too and smiles along with you. I do isn’t so far away and you know those words will last forever.

<< >>

If you’d like to be added to my tag list just let me know!

Based on the dwc prompts: “Will you be the best man?”, “I can’t wait to be married”, “I can’t wait for the honeymoon” and @outerspaceisbetterthannothing message: Engagement party in a botanical garden they had their first date (where Cal planned on asking her to marry him originally). Everything is in the lights and looks magical. Ash mocks her how he ruined a perfect proposal they spent weeks organized. His family is here (he had no doubts and flown them out), she asks Mali to be her maid of honour and says how she’s always wanted a sister. And Cal is happier than he ever though he could be.

Tagged: @rosecolouredash @irwinkitten @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos @caswinchester2000 @wildflowergrae @empathycth @cuddlemecalx @malumsmermaid @babylon-corgis @outerspaceisbetterthannothing @mariellelovescupcakes @xhaileyreneex @goth5sos @gosh-im-short @feliznavidaddycal @loveroflrh @findingliam-o @flowerthug @g-l-pierce @talkfastromance4 @superbloomirwin @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer @wastedheartcth @calumscalm @notinthesameguey @lukesfuckingbeard @myloverboyash @treatallwithkindness @haikucal @wiildflower-xxx @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood @drarryetcetera @another-lonely-heart @megz1985 @idk-harry @dinosaursandsocks @wildflower-cth @idontneedanyone @everyscarisahealingplace @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @karajaynetoday @333-xx @calumshpod @calumsphile @calumrose @justhereforcalum @grreatgooglymoogly @calumance @mantlereid @hemmingslftv

#Calum hood blurbs #Calum hood imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #Calum hood x you #Calum hood x reader #5sos x you #5sos x reader #Calum hood fluff #5sos fluff #cal!dates #cal!engagement

122 notes · View notes

crowdedimagines · 4 years

Text

Who Is That? Part 2 (Harry Styles)

PART ONE

In the span of a week Harry and I go on two dates, our third taking place in a few hours. I’ve never moved so quickly with someone, but I’ve also never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly.

By the time I got up to my apartment I already had a text from Harry asking when he could see me again to take me out on a date. I immediately called Hannah to gush over what had happened. She seemed to be just as shocked as I was, especially being that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with him the last time she saw me.

Our first date, Harry took me out to eat. We only waited until the next day before we decided to meet up again. The more we got to talking the less we wanted to wait. Over dinner we were able to get to know each other a little better. Harry made me promise not to google him before the date. He found it refreshing to come across someone who didn’t know of his stardom. Instead he got to tell me all about it himself. I got to tease him about how this was the second time he was paying for my meal, but only our first date.

It took a while to meet up again, I officially started teaching. It took me a few days to get into the swing of things. In the meantime Harry and I texted and called to keep in touch.

Our second date was my idea. I decided it might be nice to go on a hike. I hadn’t been on any of the trails in Los Angeles in years, so I was glad to be back. Harry seemed to be thrilled with the idea as well. It was surprising how for someone who looks to be in shape, he becomes out of breath quite easily. We would talk the whole time, pausing to take in the view. Another successful date.

Hannah couldn’t help but freak out that things were going so well. She felt responsible since it was her idea for me to go up to him in the first place. She liked to gloat and tease me about giving a speech at our wedding. She also claimed that if she wasn’t godparent to at least one of our kids she would be pissed.

Tonight is Harry and I’s third date. He asked me when he dropped me off after our hike and he’s given me no details. We’ve talked and I ask him how to dress and what to bring, but he hasn’t budged on anything. Haven’t wavered even slightly on giving me some details.

“So, what are you wearing tonight?” Hannah asks, she watches me on facetime digging through my closet.

“I have no clue.” I huff, “I just don’t know what to expect. Like are we going out to dinner? Should I dress fancy? Or our last date was hiking so what if we’re like going rock climbing? I hate this.”

I sigh and lay back on my floor, piles of clothes around me.

“I may have heard from a little bird what you’re doing, so I would dress casual and cute.” Hannah admits, I can hear her laugh.

“You know what the date is?” I ask, sitting up to look at her proud smirk. She gives an evil nod in response. Of course they’re in cahoots.

“You ass! You’ve watched me sigh over my clothes for twenty minutes now. So what's the date?” I ask, picking up my phone from my desk to get a better look at the screen.

“I’m not telling! You will love it tho.”

“Okay, so casual and cute.” I reevaluate the items in my closet, trusting that she knows how I should dress appropriately. I settle on a short floral dress and a denim jacket. I put it on and turn back to Hannah for her opinion.

“It’s perfect!”

“Well that’s good because I think I just heard him at the door.” I reach for my phone and my purse, “Thanks!”

I yell a simple ‘coming’ so he knows that I heard him. I check myself in the mirror one more time by the door before deciding it’s good enough.

“Hi.” I swing open the door.

“Hello, love.” He leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. I smile leaning into his touch before turning around to lock my door behind me.

“Ready?” He asks, walking me towards the elevator.

“As ready as I can be for a mystery date.” I grin.

We go downstairs, Harry holds the passenger door open for me.

“I don’t get to drive?” I tease, sticking out my bottom lip in a pout.

“Not when you don’t know where we’re going.” He walks around to the other side and gets in. I’ve decided this car is my favorite when the top is down. It takes my hair with the wind, pulling it in every direction. I normally would hate that for going on a date, but it does the same thing to his curls.

We drive for a while and get on the freeway, telling me that we aren’t going anywhere very close.

“So, how was your first week?” Harry asks, referring to my first week with students.

“It was great. It was a long week, I’m glad it’s Friday, but it’s only confirmed that this is what I’ve always wanted to do. How about you, how was your week?”

I squint to look at him as I wait for an answer. The setting sun casting an orange haze over both our faces.

“I spent most of the week in the studio.” He glances over at me.

“Wait, but didn’t you tell me that you recently released an album?” I tuck my hair behind my ears.

“Yeah, I did. You can never spend too much time in the studio. Plus I was feelin a bit inspired.”

“Were you, now?” I tease, biting back a smile.

He simply nods, trying not to give in to many more words. He should know by now that I’m not going to let him off that easy.

“So, have you already written a song about me?”

He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid giving anything away. I don’t pull my eyes away from him, not wanting to miss an emotion that crosses his face. His cheeks heat up in the most adorable shade of pink.

“Wow.” I smirk, “If you keep that up, I’m going to become the narcissist in this relationship.”

“So we have a relationship now?” He decides to flip it on me now.

He’s successful in shutting me up for a minute. It’s true that we haven’t discussed exactly what we are. We are heavily flirty, but we haven’t even kissed, nothing more than the cheek at least.

“I must be pretty amazing then, huh?” I fill the void, bringing it back to me, wanting to know more about what he could be possibly writing about in the studio the past week.

“That’s where I have to agree.”

Silence fills the car, but it’s comfortable. We just listen to the radio, I watch the scenery pass by as we drive farther and farther from the city. I rest my arm on the top of the door, letting my hand float in the wind. Harry pulls me out of my trance when he reaches out to the radio.

“What?” I question as he turns down the radio. He has a funny look on his face as he does it.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, “Just don’t always enjoy listening to my own music.”

“Shut up!” I grin, Harry has still been adamant about wanting to keep me in my little bubble of unawareness. He wanted us to find out things about each other organically so I haven’t been granted the pass to listen to his music yet, “This is meant to be.”

I reach to turn it back up again, letting it play loudly through the speakers. He rolls his eyes but a smile still graces his face, he gives up feigning annoyance. His arm resting across the bench of our chair drops to my shoulders to pull me a little closer. The wind was whipping my hair, but now due to his arm it’s settled. I lean in to rest my head against his shoulder, grateful for the small car. It makes the cuddling a little easier.

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He continues down the freeway, the sky dimming as we go. We’re miles from the city, nothing is familiar anymore.

“Close your eyes.” He smiles.

“Why?” I squint sceptically.

“Because it’s more fun this way.” He manages to keep glancing between me and the road, “Humor me, love.”

“Fine.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and keep them shut, even as he slows. He makes several turns, we’re obviously far from the freeway now. The roads get quieter and quieter and eventually I can hear us turn on to a gravel road.

“I knew it, you are some creep.” I turn to face him, still keeping my eyes closed, “Taking me out into the middle of nowhere to kill me.”

“Shut up, would ya.” He nudges my shoulder, “You’re going to ruin the fun.”

I can hear the smile in his tone. He’s having way too much fun with this, but also it’s getting me excited for whatever he’s planned. It wouldn’t take much for him to win me over. He’s so charming, and we just click. I would be happy with picking up a pizza and talking. It doesn’t take much to fall for this boy.

“Okay, you can open.” He’s finally parked. I picked up on outside noises of people talking and other cars.

I peek my eyes open to see where we’ve finally stopped. A drive in movie, Harry’s car parked a few rows back giving us the perfect view of the screen.

“Shut up.” I sit up, reluctantly leaving Harry’s grip so I can sit up a little more and look around.

“Harry.” I turn to look at him, his eyes already on me, “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“C’mon, let’s go get some snacks.”

We walk over to the snack booth to get drinks and popcorn.

“I haven’t done one of these since I was a kid.” I laugh, taking a piece from the bag, “What movie are we seeing anyway?”

“Grease.” He grins, “A classic drive in movie.”

We go back to his car with our snacks just as the movie starts. The bench seating makes it so Harry can slide more to my side and avoid sitting under the steering wheel the whole time. Once we’re done snacking, we cuddle in a little more. Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder, I throw my legs over his lap. His free hand tracing patterns absentmindedly on my leg.

“I think I watched this movie a hundred times in year four.” He whispers into my hair.

“Really?” I grin thinking about ten year old Harry watching this movie on repeat.

“It was my favorite, I think I proper annoyed everyone else. Gemma hated me for it, I think she still hates this movie.”

I laugh pulling back to look at his smiling face. His eyes leave the screen once he notices I’m no longer watching.

“Whatcha starin at?” He teases.

“You.” I smirk, I focus my attention on his lips. He licks them once he notices my gaze. I tilt my head up towards his slightly, hinting. He smiles before leaning down to finally connect our lips. His hand leaves my leg to cup my cheek and deepen the kiss. I reach my hand to run through his curls, something I’ve been wanting to do since I saw him in the bar.

We both pull back to catch our breath after a few minutes of an intoxicating kiss. I peck his lips once more to get one last taste. Harry doesn’t seem to want it to be over either, pulling me close again. I laugh as he presses kisses down my jaw, trailing them down my chest. He trails them down between my breasts as far as the cut of my dress will allow.

“Harry.” I laugh, pulling on his hair lightly to grab his attention again.

“Hmm?” He finally pulls back to look at me again, he has a dopey grin. I’m still practically sitting in his lap, but I long to be closer. Needing to feel his lips burning against mine.

I push him down slowly, so his back is flat against the seat. I move to straddle his hips before I move down to join. I trace my hand along his jawline, letting the moment build this time. The tension is at an all time high, finally Harry loses patience and pulls me down to his lips again.

We continue the hot makeout for the rest of the movie. We manage to pry ourselves apart once Danny and Sandy are flying away in the car, the end of the movie. Harry clears his throat as he starts his car. I manage to stifle my laugh, Harry makes me feel like I’m a teenager again. Making out in a car, not wanting to go home just yet.

“How are we ever going to top this date?” I ask, my forehead resting against his neck. We’re just now pulling back on to the freeway, we’ve got a long way to go.

“I don’t really know.” He grins, “I’ve quite enjoyed this one.”

“I don’t want this night to end.” I reach my hand up to feel the breeze against it.

“It doesn’t have to.” His eyes flicker between me and the road, “My house is actually in Malibu. We practically have to drive right by it. We don’t have to! I didn’t mean to insinuate that we need to spend the night at my house.”

Harry being a proper gentleman, afraid he’s offended me. In reality it’s excited me.

“No, it sounds like fun.” I grin.

Harry continues driving, thankfully Malibu isn’t as far as driving all the way back into L.A. We both started non stop yawning about ten minutes ago, I think the tiring week and how late it is catches up with us. He enters the code to his gate and drives up the long driveway.

“Jesus, this is your house?” I laugh, looking around at his large Malibu home, “How’d you get this again?”

“Rockin and rollin and whatnot.” Harry laughs, putting on his best Danny Zuko impression to quote the movie. I throw my head back in laughter as he guides us to the front door, his hand resting on my lower back.

“You’re such a dork.” I whisper with a laugh.

“Oh really? I’m a dork? You seem to really like this dork.” He smirks, backing me into his house. I don’t even look around because I don’t want to break eye contact. Something about Harry’s eyes pull you in, enchanting you. Creating a wave of butterflies in my stomach.

“I do really like you.” I admit.

“Wow, she even said it without teasing.” He reaches forward to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I did.” I smile, “Believe it or not, I’m not always teasing you.”

“It’s okay if you were, surprisingly I like it when you tease me. You keep me on my toes.”

Harry shows me around slightly, a mini tour not going into it fully until we get to the master bedroom.

“Well this is my room.” He blushes, becoming his more shy side.

“It’s cute.” I smirk, “Do you have anything I could sleep in?”

“Yeah, of course.” He goes into his closet and comes back with a soft tee shirt and a pair of his boxers, “My bathrooms right through there.”

He gestures to the en suite. I go in to wash my face, brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush, and change. I decide the tee shirt is enough, it falls down far enough to feel comfortable. I fold my clothes and his boxers and leave them on the counter.

“You look way better in that than I do.” He admires from his bed, sitting up against his headboard.

“Tell me about it, stud.” I tease, throwing a Grease quote back at him. He lets out a loud laugh, not expecting the call back to the movie, little does he know I’ve been waiting to quote the movie since he did.

I walk over to his bed and pull back the covers to climb in, Harry sinks down next to me. I let out another loud yawn, Harry mimics it a second later. His warm arms wrap around my waist, pulling him closer to his side.

“Y/n?” Harry whispers after a few minutes of silence, checking to see if I’m still awake.

“Hmm?” I ask, struggling to keep my eyes open.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” His voice is just loud enough for me to hear it.

“Really?” I smile, turning around to see his face.

He nods, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I get it if you think we’re moving too fast. If you don’t want the title that’s fine. I just want you to know that I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t want to pursue anyone else. I don’t want to play a game, I just want you.”

“I want you too, Harry.” I lightly trace my fingers over his jawline until I guide his face down to mine for a brief kiss.

“I would love to be your girlfriend.”

i hope you guys loved this part just as much as the first. xoxo

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

506 notes · View notes

kimvvantae · 4 years

Text

puzzle; 6 (m)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, unprotected sex (use condoms y’all kids)

rating: 18+

word count: 13k wooohoooooo

A/N: i listened to the same 4 songs over and over again while writing and i think it kind of sets the mood for this chapter so hm if you guys like listening to music while reading here goes a small playlist:

Jungkook - If you (read the lyrics pls)

Whitesnake - Is This Love

BTS - Jamais Vu

Sam Smith - Lay Me Down

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

“You’re acting weird.”

You finally look up when you hear this, just to see Hoseok frowning at you.

“I’m not.” You’re quick to say, shrugging.

“You’re really acting weird. Is everything okay?” Hoseok insists, crossing his arms.

Hoseok is not what bothers you the most, though, but another pair of eyes watching you like a hawk.

Jimin knows why you’re acting weird. Since that day at Joy’s house, he has been staring at you like this constantly - half judging, half worried.

It’s very annoying, to be honest.

“I’m just… a little bit stressed.” You admit, shrugging again. Fortunately, Hoseok isn’t as observant as Jimin, so he seems convinced.

“So, what did you guys want?” You ask, changing the topic. They came after you in the cafeteria while you have lunch after all.

“Ah! I almost forgot,” Hoseok starts. “You quit your job at the coffee shop, right?”

“Yes. It was way too stressful and my boss was a bitch.” You huff.

“So you’ll be free this weekend?” He asks. You nod, but if he’s about to invite you to a party or something, you’re ready to say no. “The thing is, you know that me and Jimin have this job as waiters, right? There’s a wedding this weekend and they’re needing staff. So, if you’re interested, you can come with us on Saturday night. The payment is decent and it’s just easy stuff to do.”

Your mood lightens up at this. “Yeah, sure! I’ll go. I really need money right now.”

Hoseok smiles and claps his hands together. “Alright! I’ll send you all the information later. They’ll give you a uniform, so don’t worry about clothes. I have to go now. Bye!”

He leaves.

Jimin stays.

You just keep eating quietly, Jimin’s heavy gaze on you, until you finally get annoyed.

“Jimin, what do you want?” You cross your arms and glare back.

Jimin slowly quirks one eyebrow. “Won’t you ask me if Jungkook’s going?”

“Why would I ask if he’s going or not?”

“Because you guys aren’t talking anymore.”

“Thank you so much for reminding me of this, Jimin."

He realised that he went a little too far just by seeing your clenched jaw and the anger in your eyes. Jimin sighs and shrugs. "Anyways, yes, Jungkook is going. But not to work as a waiter, he’ll take pictures instead.”

“So what?"

Jimin swipes his hand over his face and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. "I think you’re so stupid. Both of you. My fucking God.”

“You know what, Jimin? That’s none of your business.” You finally get up and take the tray rather roughly, walking away without looking back.

Maybe you were a little too rude with Jimin, but he’s being unbearable these days.

It’s been one month since that day at Joy’s house - one month since you and Jungkook have been avoiding each other like the plague.

And maybe you were a little too rude with him because deep down, you know he’s right.

As usual.

tae: wyd?? 👀👀

you: working

tae: ??? didn’t u quit ur job

you: yea

you: it’s one night thing

you: i need the 💸💸

tae: oh

tae: ok

tae: i’ll ask later then

you: wAIT

you: ask what??????

tae: later

tae: u should work first~

you: but im curious

you: i can’t work if im curious >:(

tae: 🙊

you: tae????

you: taeeeeeeee

you: TAEHYUNG

He doesn’t reply anymore.

You groan, shoving your phone on your back pocket again, and leave the restroom. The guests hadn’t arrived yet since the wedding ceremony is still ongoing, but the kitchen is already a mess: people yelling orders, the delicious scent of good food in the air, cooks cooking (duh) and waiters getting ready. The boss has already given you the last instructions, but it’s not as if working in an event like this is a difficult task: serve the guests, smile, be polite, walk around the hall, try not to break the crystal glasses that cost more than what you can pay.

The hotel is pretty fancy, actually. You were expecting a smaller wedding. Not that this is a problem, of course. The only problem here are the heels that all women are forced to use; it’s not too high, but walking around endlessly the whole night in these will be painful for sure. The rest of the uniform is that standard - black pants, white button shirt, black vest and bow tie, hair tied in a perfect high bun, simple makeup.

You walk to the hall to make the last adjustments in the decoration. Pretty much everything is in place, so there isn’t much to do. The tables are organized, the floor is pristinely clean, the white flower bouquets are in place. A DJ will be in charge of music tonight.

You stand at the back of the hall, almost hidden, just to check your phone once more; no new texts. Now, you can’t stop thinking about what Taehyung wants to ask. He knows you’d get all curious. You and Taehyung have grown closer these days: late phone calls, endless texts, random memes at random times. You hadn’t gone on a proper date yet, though - and you don’t think you want to.

Taehyung is a nice guy and a good friend, but you don’t want to take things to the next level - even though this seems to be Taehyung’s intention since the beginning. He has been insisting in you for quite a long time now meanwhile all you do is keep a certain distance. You didn’t really give him any real hopes yet and you’re afraid that Taehyung might be reading your actions in the wrong way. Truth be told, it’ll be so shitty of you to keep his hopes high when you won’t go anywhere with this.

Your feelings are all messed up.

Because you shouldn’t even be feeling anything in the first place.

Ironically, you’ve never been friends with benefits with anyone before. You did have some fuck buddies in the past, though - but you were never friends with any of them. You never got involved with any of your actual friends. Sure, there was that night when drunk-you and drunk-Jimin made out at a party (you don’t talk about it), but at that time, you had just joined college and neither you nor Jungkook were close to Jimin yet, so it doesn’t really count. Also, you and Jimin never had sex - you just kissed, nothing more.

But of course dumb you had to be friends with benefits with your best fucking friend. Of course you had to destroy your friendship like that. Everyone knows that sex is a friendship destroyer. Everyone!

One month without Jungkook felt like being in the desert without rain. You have good friends, but none of them are that special person that’s somehow able to read you mind and understand you even if you don’t say anything. None of them know the type of meme you’d laugh at, none of them sent you random snaps at random times of the day. Worst of all - you didn’t watch Endgame together, when you’ve been watching every Marvel film together ever since you both started obsessing over heroes years ago. Every. Single. Marvel. Film.

You didn’t get to see Jungkook crying during the last scenes of Endgame. Jimin didn’t say if he cried or not, but you know he cried.

That’s devastating.

Truth be told, you don’t even miss sex. Sure, you and Jungkook are the perfect match in bed, and you caught yourself masturbating at night wishing it were Jungkook’s fingers inside of you instead (touching yourself has never been so depressing), but what you actually miss to the point it hurts your chest are the small, familiar things. The comfortable silence. The funny banter. Going to Burger King together late at night after a party or when none of you want to cook. Showing each other funny videos or discussing about the latest chapter of the manga you’re both reading. Jungkook ignoring your texts for hours because he’s too focused on playing Overwatch. You even miss the way he never lets you eat the last slice of pizza, goddammit.

You simply miss him.

What leads you to another thought - something that has been growing stronger in your mind.

After days of self denial, you finally admitted that you were jealous of Jungkook and Joy.

There’s no other explanation for the way you acted that day at her house. You were mad that she was touching him and getting too close. That’s weird. You’ve never really been the jealous type. You never minded when people tried to flirt with Jungkook.

You’re not jealous of friends.

Even so, you had a jealousy attack and didn’t rest until Jungkook’s attention was yours again.

Being totally honest with yourself, you’ve been jealous of Joy ever since you found out she was interested in him.

…what the fuck?

Something inside of you have changed, and only now you’re brave enough to admit. Somewhere along the road, you stopped seeing Jungkook as just a friend. He’s currently in that blurry and confusing level - not only a friend, but at the same time, not more than a friend. You don’t know what the fuck he is anymore.

More importantly… do you want to be more than friends?

If you and Jungkook make up, will you be able to go back to what it was - just friends?

Or are you just being possessive? Did you start seeing him in a different way just because you realized you’re about to lose him?

You don’t know the answer to none of those questions. What you know at the moment is that being away from him fucking hurts. You have the same friends, go to the same places, study at the same university, but barely see each other anymore. What’s that thing people say? You just start valuing things after you lose them.

Jimin asked you not to play with Jungkook’s feelings. What he doesn’t know, though, is that you’re so confused about yours that you don’t have time to play with his feelings.

When you realize the guests are about to come, you force your brain to focus on your current task. You stand back with the rest of the waiters as, slowly, the elegant guests get into the hall, sitting at their respective tables, and soon the place is filled with conversation, laughter and music.

After everyone took their places, the main couple finally come.

The lights change. The DJ plays a special song. Guests stand up and applaud when they enter the hall, smiling, and walk to the center to have their first dance as a married couple.

You could have noticed how the bride’s dress was beautiful. You could have noticed how her front teeth was dirty with lipstick and how the groom tried to discreetly tell her about this. You could have even noticed how one of the kids was starting to have a tantrum and his mother half-screamed, half-whispered, if you don’t be quiet you’ll be grounded for one month!

But you don’t notice any of that, because the photographer enters the hall right after the couple does.

Your heart flutters in a funny way.

Jungkook is wearing a suit (you don’t even remember the last time you saw him in a suit); black and simple, but it fits him so well. He isn’t much different from all the other man, except for his long hair - his black hair is so long he can probably tie it now - and his ear piercings. He holds his camera to eye level, capturing every moment he can from the couple’s first dance, a backpack with other tools hanging from his shoulder.

Everyone else is focusing on the couple - but you can’t look at anything else but him.

He looks so handsome and focused and hot and-

Hey, you’re here to work!, you remind yourself angrily, shaking your head and walking back to the kitchen.

Drink after drink, tray after tray - you and the other waiters and waitresses walk around the hall to serve the guests. It’s not a difficult work, but still tiring nevertheless. It’s also hard to balance yourself and the trays with these high heels. Soon, you’re immersed in the work and momentarily forget about everything else, although (unconsciously) you try to avoid being seen by a specific someone.

Time passes by and the party goes on. Parents make heartfelt speeches, everyone cries. The DJ plays popular songs and soon the dancefloor is full. Alcohol already starts to get into their heads. Men are either speaking and laughing too loud or crying, hugging the groom. Women already forgot their high heels and their elegance, twerking shamelessly and screaming. Kids do the usual - run, yell, fall and cry - and they almost throw you on the ground twice. Someone spills champagne on the floor; you rush to clean it before someone ends up slipping. There’s the eventual noise of glass breaking. A certain dude has asked for your help far too much and you start to avoid him, noticing that he’s staring at your ass. Another guest pukes and is taken to the infirmary. As usual, you hear old women complaining about the food, how the decoration is ugly, how one waiter was rude, how the DJ doesn’t play the songs they want-

“The photographer is so hot! What’s his name?!” You hear someone giggling.

You gulp.

Jungkook is just doing his job, but that boy can’t go unnoticed, not even when he tries. You don’t know if he saw you yet, and honestly, you hope he didn’t.

Just do your job. Just do your job.

The night goes on. Your left foot hurts and you need to pee, but gladly most of the guests have already left - the groom and bride left first and the party went on without them -, the hall is almost empty, which means it’s almost ending. Now, you busy yourself with cleaning the hall.

“Man, I’m dead,” Hoseok groans, stretching his back. You nod, putting some empty glasses on a tray to take them back to the kitchen.

“Now imagine bearing it all in heels,” you say, not being able to keep your nice posture anymore. Not that there are many guests anyway - most are too drunk or sleeping on the tables. The DJ is still diligently playing, though.

“The night was productive after all,” Jimin chirps happily, approaching you two with a smug grin on his lips. You see he’s holding a small paper between his fingers… someone’s phone number.

“Son of a bitch,” you say under your breath. Jimin just shrugs and smirks. Much obviously, you apologized for your rudeness before you came. The fact that he forgave you so easily made everything worse, honestly. Jimin is a nice guy with his friends (way too nice for his own good sometimes) and it just shows how he doesn’t deserve to be treated in a rude way.

“I’m just taking the chances life gives me!” He chirps again, making you roll your eyes.

“Anyways, what’s wrong with Jungkook?” Hoseok wonders, crossing his arms and frowning. “He didn’t come over the entire night. Is he avoiding us?”

You gulp.

Instantly, your eyes travel to where he stands in the nearly-empty dance floor. He smiles politely to some women that stand around him. Everyone’s obviously too drunk and they’re probably talking nonsense.

He’s avoiding me, you realize sadly.

“He’s working, Hoseok. His job won’t end if the guests keep asking for pictures.” Jimin is quick to say, what indeed makes sense, but Jimin also knows very well why he has been keeping his distance. Hoseok is the only one that doesn’t notice the strange tension in the air.

When you notice you’ve been staring for an embarrassing long time, you immediately shift your gaze to the dirty plates in front of you, organizing them in a pile to take them to the kitchen. You came here to work. That’s it. Focus-

An excited scream tears the air.

“I loooove this song!” One of the girls on the dance floor scream, the one that has been clinging on Jungkook ever since the crowd started to dissipate. Much obviously tipsy, her eyes were glued on him the entire night (not that you’ve been noticing the people checking him out. Of course not). “Jungkookie, dance with me!”

You almost gasp.

Jungkookie?!

That’s when you finally notice the face Jungkook is making - and you try your best not to laugh.

He has that look that means oh my fucking God someone please take me out of this situation.

The two boys by your side don’t try to hide the laughter as well as you, watching the desperate Jungkook try to turn her offer down - an awkward smile, eyes shifting from her, a muttered apology (I still have some work to do…) but the thirsty girl is surprisingly insistent (you can stop for a little bit, come on!).

“I feel sorry for him,” Hoseok almost chokes as he tries to stop his giggles. You kind of feel sorry, too. He can’t be rude to a customer, otherwise he’d be punched by her relatives - not that Jungkook would be rude anyway. He steps back, scratches the back of his neck. The girl is almost climbing him. He looks around desperately, trying to find a way to escape-

“Why don’t you help him, Y/N?” Jimin says sweetly.

You side eye the sugar-coated snake you call friend. “Jimin.” Is all you say in a warning manner.

Someone that doesn’t understand the situation wouldn’t think anything weird, because you’re actually used to save Jungkook from crazy girls. The thing is, sometimes he’s too nice to turn girls down - and yes, girls do chase him. When he’s not interested in them, you’d usually understand the situation and run on his rescue, most times pretending to be his girlfriend so the girls would stop bothering him. It’s something funny and you’d always laugh your asses off right after.

Not now.

You definitely don’t want to laugh now.

Jimin is being far from innocent. He just wants to push you two into each other. He may have good intentions, but he’s not considering the fact that you don’t feel ready to face Jungkook - not when your feelings are so messed up. This ain’t happening.

“Yeah, Y/N. Jungkook looks pretty desperate,” Hoseok remarks, again, oblivious to the tension lingering in the air.

“Jungkook can handle himself very well. He doesn’t need my help.” Even though Jimin feels your menacing glare and sees your jaw clench, this boy is very brave and insists:

“Come on, Y/N! It won’t hurt.” He says innocently.

Yes, it will hurt. It already hurts, dumbass.

“Did you guys forget that we’re here to work? I don’t want to be reprimanded.”

“The hall is near empty. There’s literally nothing to do anymore.” Hoseok doesn’t understand why you’re glaring at him now.

You’re trying to control your nerves, but it’s getting hard not to feel your stomach jump in a weird way and your fingertips tremble. Just the idea of approaching him makes you weak, and not in a good way. Why these people can’t just leave you alone?!

“Do you think that avoiding him forever will work?” Jimin hisses on your ear, low enough so only you can listen, finally showing how pissed he really is.

What he says gets you.

Avoiding each other isn’t working, you know this very well. You remember the way you used to deal with things in the past - talking. Sure, you won’t be able to really talk right now, but at least you’ll have a chance to approach him.

You don’t want to. You really don’t. But at the same time, you want to. You miss Jungkook.

Besides, he can’t run away from you in this situation.

You take a deep breath and gulp, trying to ease the tension. Come on. I know Jungkook. He’s the same bastard I’ve known my whole life. Stop being a pussy. I’m not a pussy!

“Just to make clear,” you whisper back to Jimin. “I fucking hate you.”

“You love me.” You wish you could rip that triumphant smirk off his face.

You walk over to the dance floor.

The few couples dance slowly and intimately. Because of course it had to be a slow dance. Of course it had to be a romantic song. Haha. Of course. The Universe must be playing some trick on you.

Jungkook managed to run away from the girl, trying to hide in the corner of the hall, and she’s searching for him like a hawk. You wonder if she’s this drunk or if she’s just stupid. A guy literally running away from you isn’t already a message enough?

You walk quickly to where he stands, and the moment Jungkook turns around and lays his eyes on you, shock covers his features.

“Y/N-?”

“Quick, dance with me,” you say hurriedly, placing his hands on your waist. “She’s coming.”

Instead of questioning, Jungkook immediately starts to play along as you place your own hands on his shoulders. You discreetly watch when the girl finally finds you.

She stops on her tracks.

“She saw us?” He asks without looking back.

“Yes.”

“And?”

You see fire in her eyes.

“If she had a gun, she’d probably shoot me.” The girl looks outraged that you stole her chance to grind on him. “Oh, she’s turning away.”

Jungkook sighs in relief. “Thanks God. She’s been bothering me all night!” You can’t help but giggle.

For a millisecond, it feels like nothing has changed.

But then you look at each other for the first time.

It might be dramatic, but you almost feel that the temperature drops around you.

Oh shit.

You avoid each other’s gazes at the same time. It feels so tremendously awkward to be in front of him again - especially when you’re slow dancing in the dim light of the hall, almost hidden. It feels uncomfortably intimate. Especially because you’re both keeping a distance that normal couples wouldn’t. You probably look like a weird couple at a prom party that were forced to dance together.

It feels foreign.

The way you touch each other doesn’t feel right. You have touched each other in the most intimate and obscene ways, yet the simple touch of his hands on your waist doesn’t feel right. Despite this, you feel your blood boiling with a strange type of excitement; you missed him so damn much. Even in this uncomfortable situation, you can’t help but feel a little bit happy. You didn’t know you’ve been craving for his touch so much up until now.

What’s weird is that you don’t even feel like this in a sexual way. You’re not aroused. Considering how your relationship became strictly sexual these past months, your lack of arousal to be around him is weird.

The butterflies in your stomach and the way your hands are shaking a little bit is also weird.

For some moments, you just sway from side to side in an overwhelming silence. You have no choice but to listen intently to the song being played. As if you already don’t feel fucked up enough, you’re forced to listen to a love song - an 80s love song on top of that. Of course it has to be Is This Love by Whitesnake. Of course. Haha.

“Uhm… thanks.” Jungkook finally breaks the silence. His voice lacks confidence. He probably never talked to you like this.

“Just helping out a friend,” you say and instant regret smashes you. You don’t know if he’s still your friend.

Jungkook looks scarily annoyed for a second. “A friend. Sure.”

Is it inappropriate to notice how he looks handsome when he clenches his jaw?

Honestly, has Jungkook always been this handsome?

Sure, he has always been like this. Maybe not seeing him in a long time made you feel this way. His hair has grown a lot. He looks extra fine in this suit. Every man looks better in a suit, but Jungkook looks like a deity.

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy.

You did miss him a lot.

The silence makes you pay attention to the song again.

Wasted days and sleepless nights

But I can’t wait to see you again…

Hah, I know how it feels, you think - what makes you widen your eyes, shocked with your own thoughts. No. You won’t suddenly relate to a cliche 80s love song.

Right?

“H-How’s school going?” You stutter. Are you trying to do small talk? For real?

“It’s doing fine,” he simply says. Oh fuck. Not good. He sounds so uninterested in your weak attempt at engaging a conversation it hurts. You came here to try and talk about what really matters, but you don’t feel ready to do it yet. Can’t he understand it?!

It looks like your presence bothers him, honestly.

That’s new.

Wow. Your heart suddenly feels clenched.

Awkward.

Why am I feeling this way?

A heavy silence weighs on you again. This isn’t going as planned - not that you planned anything in the first place. You’re going through a lot of weird sensations now.

Why is that?

You look at Jungkook timidly (timid and Jungkook are two words that used to not make any sense together in the past), but he doesn’t look back. You avoid his gaze again.

Being hit by a truck would hurt less.

What’s happening?

Why are you so damn confused?

When the song hits its chorus, you start to think the Universe is definitely playing with you. The deep voice of the singer floats in the air:

Is this love

That I’m feeling?

Is this the love

That I’ve been searching for?

Fuck you, Whitesnake.

For real.

Fuck. You.

“Did Taehyung ask you?”

This brings you back to reality in an instant.

“What?” You look at him, confused. Why is he talking about Taehyung of all people out of nowhere?

You’ve always been very good at reading Jungkook, but right now, he’s unreadable.

“So he didn’t.” He says blatantly, devoid of any emotion. “I thought he would have already.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He talked to me about a double date.” Jungkook replies, looking back at you for the first time - again, a blank face. “You and him, me and Joy.”

Your blood honestly feels like frost.

It’s like you lost the ability to move or talk for a moment. You blink and gulp, trying to keep composed.

“What? Why?”

“Because he said it’d be fun. And less awkward, since I’m not very close to Joy yet and you’re not very close to him.”

Again, you don’t say anything for long seconds.

“But we’d just be cockblocking each other during the whole date,” you say.

“I know. I think the idea of a double date sounds weird, too. It’s not as if we don’t know them.”

You remember what Taehyung texted you earlier today; he said he’d ask something later. Is he going to ask you out?

He thinks that, since you and Jungkook are best friends, you could ease the tension and even help each other out.

This is so fucked up.

The immediate answer that comes to your mind is no. You don’t want to go on a date with Taehyung when you’re not interested in him. It’d be cruel; you don’t want to keep his hopes high.

But as you’re about to say it, you stop.

What if Jungkook wants to go?

All this time, you’ve only been considering your feelings. Your confusion, your wishes - it’s always about you. You don’t know if you want to be just Jungkook’s friend, but you don’t know if he wants to be more than a friend - or if he wants to be your friend at all. The fuck buddies thing started because you asked. Not even once did you think about him.

Is this what Jimin meant when he asked you to not play with Jungkook’s feelings?

How selfish you’ve been acting all this time?

What if he’s been developing feelings for Joy and now decided to try something? He’s probably feeling hurt because you’ve not been acting like a good friend. You’re always putting yourself first.

That’s why you hear yourself asking:

“Do you want to go?”

It’s scary how every tiny little piece of you wishes he’ll say no.

But Jungkook tilts his head and says:

“Yes. I know it sounds weird, but we can part ways as soon as we get there.”

And this is the moment you feel as cold as you’ve never felt in your life.

It’s as if your ears got obstructed for a moment, because you can’t hear anything but your heartbeat. You can’t even see properly for a second. Yet, you ignore all that, gulp and nod.

It’s time to be a good friend for once.

It’s time to put Jungkook’s wishes first - even though it crushes your heart.

“Okay.” You say quietly.

You’re coming to the conclusion that you’re a walking disaster.

You’ve never been so nervous before a date in your life - but this is not the usual type of nervousness, when people are excited to meet their crush and impress them etc etc. You’re nervous because you don’t want to go. You thought of coming up with a thousand excuses (from the classical “I’m sick :(” to “Seulgi’s sick I gotta take care of her :(” to “my cat’s sick :(” but then you remembered you don’t have a cat to “I’m being chased by the police and I gotta leave the country :(”), but in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

Not when Taehyung sounded so painfully happy when you said you’d go.

That’s why you should have said no: Taehyung doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good person and he will certainly get hurt when you tell him you’re not interested. Who cares about Jungkook? That fucker can go on a date by himself, he’s not a kid anymore.

But…

There’s something very tiny and mean inside of you called jealousy that didn’t let you simply text an honest apology to Taehyung.

And now it’s too late, because he’s standing at your door.

Handsome as always, Taehyung wears casual clothes: it’s almost as if he didn’t put much thought on it, but he still looks drop dead gorgeous on his black baggy pants, white shirt and black beret (no other man in this planet can manage to not look stupid in a beret other than Taehyung). As usual, your brain malfunctions as it tries to process his beauty.

He has a small, beautiful smile on his lips.

Shit.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. You did put some effort on your clothes, makeup and hair after all. Being complimented by him feels nice.

Shit.

“Thanks. You too, but that’s just your usual self,” you say thoughtlessly and instant regret slaps your face again. Yes, bitch. Flirt with him. Make things more difficult.

Taehyung looks shy for a moment. The sight is endearing.

S. H. I. T.

“You’re just being nice to me.” He tilts his head. “So, let’s go?"

It’s too late to go back now, so you have no choice but to take his arm and show your most plastic smile. "Yeah.”

You’re definitely a walking disaster.

You two arrive in the park first and, instead of just showing your tickets and getting in, you’re forced to wait for the bastard and his hot date.

An amusement park of all places.

Not that you hate amusement parks, it’s pretty much the opposite. It’s just that everything feels so wrong. Especially how Taehyung is making a lot of effort to keep the conversation alive while you wait. It’s not hard to talk to him, though, because he’s an interesting person, but seeing his efforts hurts.

What hurts more is the sight of Jungkook and Joy arriving with locked arms.

You hope Taehyung didn’t notice you holding your breath.

Joy looks hot as always, but you don’t even look at her (yes, it’s not nice to be mad at someone that didn’t do anything wrong), eyes glued on Jungkook instead. Just like Taehyung, it seems that he didn’t put much thought on his clothes, only their styles are completely different: Jungkook wears an oversized grey t-shirt, black pants and sneakers. It might seem simple, but he can manage to look good in anything. Joy surely didn’t mind his choice of clothes.

You lock gazes for one second and proceed to avoid it.

The four of you greet. It’s hard to act natural, but you try to; you don’t want the two others to notice the weird tension between you and the black-haired bastard. Joy looks happy, too.

…

Shit.

Soon, you get into the amusement park. As expected, it’s crowded with kids, families and couples. The weather feels nice this afternoon.

“It’s been a long time since I don’t come to an amusement park,” you confess.

“Really? Then this was a good choice. I was worried if it’d be too cheesy…” he also confesses sheepishly.

“It’s not!” You reassure him. Joy agrees with you. Jungkook keeps silent. “I just have some traumatizing memories about amusement parks.”

Taehyung quirks one eyebrow. “What?”

You sigh.

You and Jungkook end up saying in unison:

“5th grade.”

You look at each other and avoid your gazes again.

“What? What happened on 5th grade?” Joy asks excitedly.

“Our school came to an amusement park that year,” Jungkook explains.

“Why was it traumatizing?” Taehyung still seems confused.

“Because… well…” you hesitate to say.

“Because she was so short back then that they didn’t let her go on the rollercoasters. And she cried the whole trip,” Jungkook suddenly says.

You glare at him.

He has a playful smirk on his lips.

“Oh, so what about you?” You can’t help but smile, too.

“What happened to him?” Joy asks.

“He laughed at me because I couldn’t ride, but he puked his lunch after he went on the coaster and spent half of the trip in the infirmary,” you reveal.

“You’re still bitter that you stayed with me in the infirmary?” He inquires.

“Of course I am! Also, you puked on my shoes!”

“I already apologized. Besides, I paid you banana milk for two entire weeks. Isn’t it enough?”

“It isn’t!”

“Are you saying that banana milk isn’t enough?!” He gasps. “You psycho.”

You both giggle.

Again, for one moment, it feels that everything is back to normal. You feel comfortable having these old memories, as if you never stopped being best friends, as if you have the intimacy to play like this again.

But it’s only for one moment.

You avoid gazes. It feels so out of place.

At least the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes shows that he feels the same about this all.

Before the tension between you two can become too strong, you change the topic and engage both Taehyung and Joy in the conversation - during that moment, you two forgot about them. As wrong as it is, Taehyung is your date for the night. He’s the one you should pay attention to.

So you try to completely ignore Jungkook’s existence for a while.

You only look at Taehyung and don’t even touch your phone. You answer his questions and ask things about him. It doesn’t feel like a punishment, though, because he is an interesting person and you genuinely enjoy his company.

But you can’t help but look at Jungkook from time to time.

You can’t help but notice his smiley-eyes as he looks at her. You can’t help but see their closure.

You can’t help but feel your heart clenching.

And then, you see yourself locking your arm with Taehyung’s.

“What’s that?” You say excitedly. “I wanna see it!”

You drag Taehyung away from the other couple until they disappear in the crowd. Only then you remember how to breathe again.

Considering all the odds, this going better than you expected.

You tried your best to completely erase Jungkook’s and Joy’s existence from your mind, and at some point it finally worked. Taehyung is a funny guy to be around. There’s something very particular and endearing about his personality that captivates you; he’s obviously trying to impress you, but he’s still being very honest. He has some type of innocence that makes you realize that this guy is seriously one of a kind. You can’t think of a single sign that he might be a bad person.

You’re genuinely enjoy this.

But not in the way Taehyung expects you to be enjoying it.

As wrong as it is, you unconsciously end up comparing him to Jungkook.

If Jungkook was your date, the first thing you’d both want to do is try all the rollercoasters and the wildest rides in this park. But Taehyung is scared of heights. You didn’t want to make the boy vomit his own stomach, so you ended up avoiding it - even though you really wanted to go on that orange coaster that looks high as fuck.

Taehyung didn’t really get your jokes. The fact that he still laughed politely is cute, but still - Jungkook and you have the same sense of humor. You two like the same stupid type of meme. It felt strange when you had to explain more than once a certain joke so Taehyung could understand.

Taehyung didn’t know your favorite ice cream flavor or your favorite soda. He doesn’t know the kind of movie you like, nor your favorite series, nor your favorite singers. You know you’re being stupid - the whole point of going on a date is to get to know each other, but every now and then you end up remembering how Jungkook knows every dumb detail about you…

What makes you realize that, as much as Taehyung is an amazing guy, you are too different from each other.

What also makes you realize that, maybe… you don’t really want to get to know anyone else.

And suddenly, an image starts to build in your mind - an image you try very hard to erase, but it’s already too strong to be forgotten.

Instead of Taehyung, you arm is locked with Jungkook’s. You’re both laughing and having fun, just like things used to be. Only now you’re not just friends.

It’s the first time in all these years that you see yourself dating Jungkook clearly. Painfully clearly.

The cotton candy you’re eating suddenly tastes like iron on your tongue. You feel your throat tightening. All of this became painful. The fact that you’re trying so hard to forget Jungkook for a few minutes, yet he’s everything you can think of. The fact that he’s in the same park as you having a date with another girl - said girl that is a friend, by the way, someone you encouraged to be with Jungkook, and now you’re hating her existence even though she did nothing wrong, all because of jealousy. There’s also the fact that Jungkook is much obviously avoiding you.

And the most painful fact of all-

“Are you okay, YN?” Taehyung asks, the smile vanishing from his lips the moment he sees your expression.

The fact that this incredible person likes you much more than you expected. It’s obvious now that you look at his eyes. He really likes you - a funny, smart and special guy, someone that didn’t check his phone not even once ever since this date started, someone that has been trying his hardest to make sure you’re having fun, a guy that is usually very confident, but at the moment looks very uneasy around you.

He’s the perfect guy. He wasn’t disrespectful, wasn’t trying to get into your pants, treated you very well. You went on dates that were far worse than this. There was nothing wrong with him. You’re also sure he’d be a loving and caring boyfriend.

But all you can think of is Jungkook.

And even though you knew this date wouldn’t work, you still accepted to come anyway. You kept Taehyung’s hopes high. Just because you were jealous.

You’re definitely the worst person on this planet.

But this has to end before Taehyung gets more hurt.

“I’m not feeling very well,” you hear yourself saying. Worry covers Taehyung’s features. “What’s the problem? Was it something you ate? Do you want to go to the infirmary?”

Damn. It hurts to see him like this.

“No. Can you… can you just take me home, please?” You ask sheepishly.

If Taehyung feels disappointed, he doesn’t let you see; he just nods instead. “Okay. Let’s go.”

And this is how you managed to destroy a perfectly fine night.

You still try not to think of Jungkook and Joy on your way back home; you don’t want to know if they’re still in the park or if they went somewhere else. The idea of what they must be doing makes your stomach twirl in a bad way. It feels like a weight installed itself on your shoulders. Everything seems too oppressive and suffocating. You can’t wait to be alone and peaceful to process all of these feelings. Fortunately, Seulgi isn’t home - she went to sleep at a friend’s house to finish a project.

For the first time, being with Taehyung feels awkward as you walk to the front door of your apartment. You can see he isn’t exactly glad. It makes everything worse.

You stop in front of the door and you turn around to face him. Everything you have to say must be said now.

“I’m so sorry, Taehyung.” You say in an embarrassed tone, scratching the back of your neck. “I ruined everything.”

“What? No!” He’s quick to reassure. God, his eyes are beautiful… “It’s not your fault. People feel ill, that’s normal.”

You gulp. Oh Gosh. He believed what you said. This is getting worse and worse… “I had a lot of fun today. Really.” You sigh and tilt your head tiredly. “Honestly, it was the most fun I had in a long time…”

“I had a lot of fun, too.” His smile is able to melt any frozen heart. “I noticed that you had a lot in mind, so I’m glad I was able to distract you at least a little.”

It gets you off guard.

He’s way more observant than you expected.

“You noticed…?” You gulp, even more embarrassed. He nods. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Everyone has a bad day every now and then. I just have to admit that I’m kind of worried about you.”

You stare at each other in silence for a while.

“Are you?” Why suddenly all you can do is make stupid questions?

Taehyung tilts his head. “Yes. You’re always such a bright person. Seeing you being quiet these days makes me sad.” First of all: did people start to realize that there’s something wrong with you? Are you acting this weird?

Second of all: that was adorable. He’s so honest about his feelings.

“To be honest, Taehyung… I’m not really a bright person,” you end up confessing in a quiet, weak voice. You don’t know why you’re saying this. You were supposed to push him away, not pull him closer. “I think I’m just used to pretend I am.”

“You don’t have to,” your eyes widen when you feel his fingertips brushing on your cheek as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you’re not. To suppress this type of feeling… it hurts. Believe me, I know.” For a moment, you feel your breath hitch. The skin where his fingers touched feels warm. He’s mesmerizing. His voice sounds like a sweet melody on your ears: deep, silky. “So, if you ever feel like opening up… I’m here, okay?” He widens his eyes for a second. “I-I mean- you can open up to Seulgi or Jungkook or Jimin, sure… anyone.”

This moment of shyness coming from him makes you giggle. “I don’t feel like opening up to anyone right now,” especially not to you, you think. “but thank you, Tae. It… it makes me really happy. I’m glad I went on this date with you.”

You shouldn’t have said that.

You shouldn’t have called him Tae.

Even though you’re saying the truth and there’s no second intentions hidden, Taehyung hears something else.

His hand is still resting on your cheek.

And he says nothing.

He just… stares right into your eyes.

You can’t move.

You clearly see when his face starts coming closer and closer to yours, slowly but surely. You see his heavy-lidded eyes, his clouded gaze, his parted lips. You feel the thick tension in the air around you - the electricity.

That’s when you should have pushed him away.

But you can’t.

Instead, you unconsciously close your eyes. You feel his lips ghosting over yours for a second - until his lips finally touch yours.

The kiss is suave - gentle and delicate. He doesn’t move his lips at first, merely pressing his against yours. Your body warms up in a way you haven’t felt in a long time; not because of arousal. It’s the pure excitement of being kissed.

Maybe that’s why you let him kiss you. You had forgotten how it feels like to be touched without any sexual intention. Kisses are too intimate, so you and Jungkook didn’t really kiss that often - and when you did kiss, it was always heated and obscene, tongues entangling wildly until both of you could barely breathe. It’s been a long time since someone kissed and held you like this: with gentleness and care. Taehyung isn’t treating you like a sex toy.

You melt.

Your lips part as he deepens the kiss; he is undemanding, careful and delicate. His lips taste like lip balm. No one is fighting for control, no one is desperate. It’s slow and synchronized. It’s sweet and innocent. Most importantly - it’s way different than you ever expected it to be. You never thought he’d kiss like this.

When Taehyung pulls away, the purest smile adorns his features.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I should have asked permission.”

“It’s okay.” And it really is. You shouldn’t, but you liked it.

“I'll… I’ll get going.” He says, the smile never disappearing. His eyes are also smiling. He stands there awkwardly in an adorable manner. “Can I text you later?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Good night. And thank you again.”

Taehyung grins. “Good night.”

Before leaving, he presses his lips on yours quickly one last time.

You watch until he disappears inside the elevator, entering the apartment and standing there alone in the dark for a few seconds.

Then you unceremoniously slam your forehead against the wooden door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You hiss between gritted teeth. “What have you done?!”

You were supposed to push him away. You should have told him the truth - that you don’t have feelings for him, that you’re confused and almost certainly in love with another guy. Instead, you just stood there and let him kiss you. You not only kept his hopes high, you increased them.

How will you get yourself out of this situation now?!

You throw yourself on the couch, grab a cushion and scream into it. I’m the worst of the worst. I’m a walking catastrophe.

For a long time, you just lay there and torture yourself with bad thoughts. Taehyung is the nicest guy you’ve met in a really long time. If you gave him the opportunity months ago, you’re sure you’d be dating right now - and the idea isn’t even unpleasant. He’s hot and smart and funny and sweet. It’s even hard to believe that someone like him is interested in you.

But…

No. Don’t think about him.

You want to punch yourself and scream and eat tons of ice cream and cry - all at once. You’re the queen of taking bad decisions. You’re the heart crusher and friendship destroyer-

There’s someone knocking on the front door.

You sit up in a jump and frown. Is it Seulgi? Did she forget her keys?

You walk slowly around the living room, defeated as if you’ve just came home from war, your hair a mess and shoulders shrinking. You turn the doorknob and open it-

And gasp.

Because standing at your front door is the person you least expected to see.

Jungkook is casually leaning on the door frame as if his presence didn’t make you burst a lung. He looks down, eyes avoiding yours; although the hallway is considerably dark, you can see his expression well. You know him too well. You see sadness and guilt and fear in his eyes.

Your heart beats so fast that you’re afraid it’ll stop suddenly. Nervousness crawls over your skin and makes your stomach feel cold.

“J-Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re brave enough to stutter. You completely forgot that Jungkook used to come over so often that you gave him full permission to enter and leave the building whenever he wanted.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he lifts his left hand and shows you what he’s carrying: a plastic bag full with a pack of…

Banana milk.

“I think we really need to talk.” He says quietly, his eyes meeting yours for the first time.

You inhale sharply.

He’s right. You need to talk.

The cold night breeze makes you tighten your coat around your body. Yours and Jungkook’s hairs sway softly with the wind. You can hear the sounds of the city from up here, in the empty terrace - cars, sirens, voices. A glowing map of endless streets and buildings extends itself in front of your eyes.

You’re both leaning on the railing side by side. You’re hyper aware of the distance between you - both physical and… spiritual. You’ve been standing here in silence for quite some time now, quietly drinking the banana milk he brought, and none of you were able to engage a conversation. The tension is heavy. It overwhelms your whole being. Nervousness makes your nerves tense. You can’t even look at him.

Dozens of questions float around your mind; what is he doing here? Why did he decide to come in the first place? What happened to his date? It’s still very early, he could have stayed with her much longer…

You also can’t help but feel helplessly excited that he is here. With you. Not with Joy. He took the initiative to meet you.

You can’t lose this opportunity.

“It’s kinda cold.” Is the first thing you say. It doesn’t even sound like you.

“Yeah.” He agrees, and he also doesn’t sound like him.

The awkwardness is almost solid right now. Things used to be so different… you can’t remember one moment in the past when such an uncomfortable feeling lingered between you.

“Hm…” you cough. “What, hm… what about you and Joy?”

Why the fuck are you asking this?, you yell at yourself.

Jungkook looks down and shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about Joy or Taehyung right now, okay?”

You shrug. “I’m just trying to start a conversation.”

“That’s not how you do it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to do it anymore.”

Jungkook goes silent with this, the quick aggressiveness disappearing as soon as it came. He gulps and looks down at the banana milk between his fingers again.

More silence.

“Can I… can I ask you something?” Jungkook says after a long while. His voice is quiet, hesitant, almost being carried away with the wind.

“What?” You feel your body heating up in anticipation.

He finally looks up to you, and in the moment your eyes meet, you have this weird feeling that everything except him looks blurred.

“Why did you start dating Mike?” He asks. “I warned you about him. I mean, you used to listen to me in the past.”

Oh.

Certainly not the type of question you were expecting.

What a mood killer, Jungkook.

You avoid his gaze again, trying to hide your disappointment. “Why are you asking me this now?”

“I just really want to know.” He takes one more sip of the banana milk.

A sigh escapes through your lips and you stare at the shiny city ahead. You didn’t think you’d have to bring up memories of Mike. It’s been a long time, but it still hurts to remember him.

“I… I just…” you start, trying to organize your thoughts. “You know that Mike had like a… bad relationship with his parents, right?” Jungkook nods. “Mike opened up about this to me. I saw how much it hurt him. He was lonely, broken. And I…” this is being way harder than you expected. You shrug, shake your head. “I don’t know. I was just being my stupid self. I thought I could… I wanted to fix him. I realized that I have this heroine complex, you know?” You side eye him sheepishly. “But there are a lot of things I can’t fix… I’m better at breaking things, not fixing them.”

“Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help people.” The confidence in which Jungkook says this makes, yet again, an odd sensation set in your stomach.

It is probably the first time Jungkook managed to make you blush in your entire life.

A little more silence.

“Did you actually like him?” You can barely hear his voice.

You have no idea why he’s making this questions. Why is he bringing up Mike after so long?

“Well… yes.” You can’t lie right now. “I did.” You make sure to reinforce the did. It’s in the past.

Jungkook nods and says nothing. He takes another banana milk from the plastic bag and opens it.

You inhale, building up your courage to ask something you’ve been wanting to know for a long time. He touched this subject anyway.

“You asked me something, now it’s my turn to ask you something.” Jungkook nods. You have the feeling that he already knows what’s coming. “Why did you break up with Yeri?”

“She broke up with me.”

Oh.

“Why?” You repeat. You can see that Jungkook gets clearly uncomfortable, but you’re not letting him go without an answer - and he already knows how stubborn you can be, too. He shifts, tilts his head, exhales heavily.

“It just didn’t work out.”

“But you liked her. And she liked you, too.” It was pretty obvious to anyone that saw them together.

Jungkook takes a long while to speak again. “I did like her. A lot.” The way his voice sounds fragile surprises you. Seeing him like this is very rare. Jungkook isn’t one to get all emotional too often. It seems that confessing this to you is important to him, somehow.

It also scares you a tiny bit. What if Jungkook still likes her, just like you suspected in the past?

“I didn’t want things to end the way they did.” He continues. His eyes are far away, watching old memories. His shoulders seem tense. He fiddles with the small banana milk bottle between his fingers. “But… some things aren’t meant to be, it doesn’t matter how much you want them to.”

This answer sounds… way too vague. Not what you want to hear. You know there’s more behind their break up, but just by looking at Jungkook you see that he isn’t telling you anything else. Well, this is the most he ever said about his past relationship in almost one year. It’s better than nothing.

And back to silence.

You want to push this awkwardness away. But how? You don’t feel as close to Jungkook as you always were. It’s not as if you could simply say anything in this moment… especially because, somehow, you feel that Jungkook expects you to do something, even though he came all the way to your apartment just to talk.

Say something, goddamnit!

“I’m sorry.” you blurt out.

Jungkook looks at you, but you’re not strong enough to look back at him. You hold the tiny bottle so tightly that it might get smashed at any moment; that’s just how nervous you are.

“Sorry for what?” he asks quietly. You hear the expectation in his voice… almost as if he’s holding his breath.

You can’t help but gulp. I’m not good with this type of thing.

“For everything.” you hate the way your voice sounds so damn fragile. Being sincere like this is somehow… painful. But that’s what Jungkook expects of you: sincerity. So you keep talking, although you don’t know the right words to express yourself. “I… I don’t know why things got like this between us…” you almost gasp. “I mean, I know why. We know why. And I feel very responsible.”

“You have this habit of taking the blame to yourself, isn’t it?” He murmurs. Jungkook shakes his head softly and passes his hand on his hair.

“But I was the one to propose it in the first place.”

“And I agreed.”

“Okay, but…” you have to stop for a moment to recover your breath. “I don’t know, I just feel sorry. I didn’t think of anyone except me all along. I’ve been an awful person to you… and awful friend. Also…” you need to stop again. Why is it so hard to speak? It feels as if there’s something obstructing your throat; the words hardly come out. “What I did that day at Joy’s house… it was wrong. I’m sorry that I made you upset that day.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. You’re still scared to look at him.

“I’m sorry about that day, too. I was rude to you.” Is he apologizing for calling you a slut while you had sex in the bathroom? Well, you definitely didn’t care about that. “I feel sorry too, Y/N. The way we drifted apart from each other…” he gesticulates with his finger between you and him. “The fault is on us both. I already told you, you shouldn’t take all the responsibility to yourself. We were both stupid.”

“Very stupid.” you both chuckle. You feel your heart lightening up for a moment; that strong tension still hovers around you, but now it feels like a different type of tension. Seeing that tiny smile in Jungkook’s lips makes your heart race.

You finally look at each other.

The shadows of the night paint Jungkook’s face. His hair sways with the wind softly. His dark eyes shine as much as diamonds. You never really understood the expression “to get lost in someone’s eyes…”

Well… now you do.

The small moment you two share feels fragile… featherlight. You’re scared that if you say or do something wrong, it’ll break and disappear. You’re scared to break him. To break yourself. This makes you remember that, ever since you were kids, Jungkook has always been the most fragile of you two. He has always been the most sensitive, the one to get hurt easily. Jimin was right all along. How could you do this to him? Why did you let this happen between you two?

“I missed you.” your voice is barely a whisper. Admitting this makes you feel exposed and relieved at the same time. Your throat feels even tighter.

“I missed you, too.” he confesses.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

You smile at each other.

That’s the moment you almost confess something more… your confused feelings for him. You feel the urge to say that you don’t see him as just a friend anymore; that you don’t want to be just a friend anymore.

But something holds you back.

This is maybe the moment when you’re finally being able to reconcile. You don’t know if Jungkook feels the same about you; you don’t want to push him away by throwing your feelings over him. This might destroy you friendship forever.

Then, you decide to keep it all to yourself. At least for now.

“So,” Jungkook says, sighing. “What about that group project?”

You quirk one eyebrow up. “I’m pretty sure you know about the group project.”

Jungkook giggles. “Jimin has been annoying you, too?” you nod. He shakes his head. “He’s a little shit, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He had good intentions, at least.” You shrug.

“He could be a little more subtle, though.” You can’t help but agree. “Congratulations for getting the highest grade.”

“Thank you. Jimin also told me that you’ve been talking to some important people…”

Jungkook smiles beautifully with this. “Yes. It’s a director. He said that he likes my work and that I have talent. I think he’ll invite me to work with him as a trainee for a while.” Your eyes widen in a surprised expression.

“Really?! That’s great, Kook!” It feels so nice to call him Kook again after so long. Slowly, you feel that unbearable tension vanishing and all that’s left is you and him. Two people that know each other better than you know yourselves for most of your lives. In a matter of seconds, the distance that put you apart for months seems to disappear.

Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle start falling over your heads. Jungkook frowns. “I think we should get down there.”

“Yes.” Before you can think better, you blurt out: “You can sleep here if you want.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that, because Jungkook’s frown deepens as he stares at you with suspicion. A shiver of fear runs down your spine. “Hey, that’s not what I mean.” You’re quick to say, waving your hands. “Before this sex thing started there was just us, remember? I… I miss us.”

Jungkook thinks for some moments, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then, a tiny smile makes its way to his lips - and you’re happy to see that the smile reaches his eyes, too. “Okay.”

“Wait- so Irene and Jennie made up?” Jungkook asks from the kitchen, surprised.

“That’s what it looks like. I mean, they did post some photos together on Instagram.” you say while adjusting the pillows and blankets on the mattress you placed in the living room. Yours’ and Seulgi’s friends come to sleep over a lot, so you’re used to do it - you even bought some spare sheets and blankets for this occasion.

“But you can’t be sure that they are together just because of some photos.”

“Yeah, but you know Seulgi. She jumped to conclusions. Being honest, they don’t look like a couple in these photos… but I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will change her mind at this point. I tried everything.”

“I don’t really think that they’ll make up this time.” Jungkook admits. You walk over to the kitchen and lean on the counter, opposite to him.

“I feel bad for her. Seulgi still loves Irene and she can’t get over it. I think it’s the first time she spends the night out in a long while… and it isn’t even to have fun. I’m worried.”

He pouts and shrugs, eyes focused in building up his sandwich. “Maybe we should just let her figure things out by herself.”

“But she’s doing nothing.”

Jungkook stops adding ketchup just to stare at you and quirk his eyebrows. “Y/N. I think I already said that you should stop trying to be a cupid, like… a million times.”

“I didn’t say I’d do something!” You do your best to sound offended.

“I know you, woman. I’ve seen this face many times. You look like an evil gremlin.”

“I don’t!” you cross your arms. You forgot how annoying it is that Jungkook knows you so well, because you did think of doing something to help her. You’re so tired of seeing you friend being sad all the time. All she does these days is watch Netflix and complain. She already started to look like a zombie at this point. No one can blame you for being concerned. “Besides, gremlins are cute.”

“You’re the only person on this planet that thinks this.” He shakes his head slightly, his hair waving in the process.

“Why did you let your hair grow so much?” You ask, resting your chin over your palm.

“Because I look good with long hair.” Jungkook shrugs, a smug smirk on his face.

“You cocky little shit.”

“Am I wrong for telling the truth?” He looks up at you again, playful. You can’t even tell he’s wrong: that long hair really matches his looks and personality.

“Hey, are you still helping Namjoon and Yoongi?” you ask when Jungkook starts to make a fourth sandwich. Yes, you guys do eat a lot.

“Yeah. I haven’t been to the studio in a few days, but they still call me whenever they need me.” Jungkook presses his lips together and shifts a little: nervousness. “I… I kind of helped them write a song.”

“Really? But you said you were just ‘lending’ them your voice to record demos.”

“Yeah, but I felt kind of inspired. It was just for fun, though.” He shifts his eyes to you then back to the sandwich very rapidly. “Maybe I’ll let you listen to it any other day.”

“Aw, come on! I’ve been wanting to listen to your songs for so long!” you whine.

“I said maybe. When the right time comes.”

You don’t really get what he means with it.

For a while, you just sit there and watch Jungkook. He looks so carefree and relaxed; he moves around the kitchen as if it’s his own house. He knows where everything is in the cabinets. In a way, this really is his second house considering how often he comes… even when he used to come just to fuck during these past months. It feels so nice to see him not being all tensed up and uncomfortable around you anymore. He even starts to sing quietly, his voice as sweet and smooth as cotton candy filling up the entire house. You’re one of the few people that Jungkook feels confident enough to sing around. It’s almost a privilege.

You have been staring at him unceremoniously for so long that Jungkook frowns and looks back at you, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s just that… Namjoon is right. You could’ve been famous with this voice.” Jungkook smiles shyly. “And this face.” He turns around to open the fridge. “And this ass.”

He frowns. “Seriously?”

“What? I’m being honest. And don’t act like you don’t stare at my ass all the time.”

Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head in that way that means I can’t stand you.

“Done.” He claps his hands together. Four giant sandwiches, coke, popcorn and m&ms (let’s say that you and Seulgi don’t have exactly the healthier type of food at home).

“Okay. I’ll take these, get changed first if you want,” you say while taking the plates to the living room. Of course there would be some of his clothes at your place.

When Jungkook sees the clothes you chose, he stares at you with an outraged expression. “My grey hoodie!”

“…yes.”

“You said you didn’t know where it was!”

You stop and click your tongue. “…funny how I found it at the bottom of my drawer tonight, huh?”

He knows you’re lying. But you won’t tell him that slept wearing his hoodie some nights because it smelled like him. He doesn’t need to know this.

“Hoodie thief.” He says and taps your head jokingly, making his way to the bathroom. You’re wearing sleeping clothes as well - and you made sure to choose your ugliest and largest ones. You don’t want Jungkook to think you asked him to sleep here just to end up having sex.

He comes back and throws himself on the mattress by your side. You’re very aware of the immense space between you; another person could fit in here. “What are we going to watch?”

“I think I’ve watched the entire Netflix catalogue at this point because of Seulgi.” you admit, shoving popcorn inside your mouth. Jungkook takes your phone and scrolls down the Netflix page.

“There’s always something more to watch.”

You end up arguing about what movie to watch. Actually, you spend more time arguing and scrolling down through the Netflix endless catalogue than watching something.

You don’t touch each other not even once. The physical distance almost feels like a living being.

You end up giving up on Netflix and watching Avengers Endgame for the hundredth time anyway.

And yes - Jungkook cries at the ending of the film.

You wake up with the sunlight touching your face.

It’s awful. You close your eyes tightly and yawn, a little bit confused at first. What am I doing in the living room? You search for your phone to check the hour: it’s seven in the morning. Shit. Whenever you can sleep until late hours, you end up waking up early…

You turn your head to the side and freeze.

It’s Jungkook.

Now you remember everything. The TV is still on, which means both of you fell asleep while watching it. The empty plates and glasses are placed over the coffee table.

You never slept together before.

There was only one time when it happened - the first and only, when you two got wasted and the whole story started. Other than that, you never slept together. First, because you had more interesting things to do other than sleep. Second, because sleeping together feels way too intimate. It didn’t matter how tired you were after fucking, when you finished cleaning up, you’d both put your clothes back on and walk back to your respective homes. You vehemently avoided doing anything that might feel too intimate - kissing, sleeping together… after a while, you even avoided looking at each other right in the eye while having sex.

You’re not touching; there is still a great space between your bodies. Yet… just the thought that you slept with Jungkook makes your heart race.

You don’t move a single centimeter. You just lay there and… look at him.

His long hair is a mess. His face is adorably puffy, lips slightly parted. He looks peaceful. The way his chest moves up and down as he breathes is hypnotizing.

He’s seriously so beautiful.

But now, you don’t think of it in a sexual way. Back then, you’d always admire how hot Jungkook is, his godlike physique, how lucky you were to be having sex with a guy like him… not now. You just feel mesmerized by his features. The long eyelashes touching his cheeks. The tiny moles on his face and neck. Some old acne scars.

It’s odd, but right now, you realize just how much you’ve been missing him. It doesn’t make sense - Jungkook is right here, barely an arm apart from you. You made up last night and it seems that everything is back to normal. Still, you desperately miss him.

Your chest fills up with something strange and unknown. It’s sweet and painful. It makes your heart feel tight, your nerves feel like burning and your eyes well up with tears.

This is the face of the person that has been with you during most of your life.

He’s a part of you.

The most important part of you.

In this moment, your feelings for him are so great that it seems that they can’t even fit inside of you anymore.

You watch him sleep for a long time, too scared to move and wake him up. But eventually, he sighs heavily and moves his head, indicating he’s about to wake up.

His eyes finally open and he yawns.

“Good morning.” He says when his eyes focus on you, smiling softly. Jungkook’s voice sounds deep and raspy. He stretches his arms over his head. “I mean… if it’s still morning.”

“It is,” you say softly.

He stares at the ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes. “I dreamed that babies came from eggs. Like ostrich eggs.” He chuckles. “And women gave birth to the eggs like chickens.”

You don’t say anything and just keep watching him instead.

Jungkook finally turns his head at you and frowns, still smiling softly. “What?”

“Nothing.” You say so quietly that he can barely hear.

He gazes back at you.

Slowly, the smile on his lips disappears.

You feel the tension building up around you - but this time it feels different. It’s not a bad tension like what you experienced last night at the terrace, nor is it dense like when you two were aroused and desperate to find a place and please yourselves. This time, it feels delicate but heavy nevertheless. It makes your blood boil and your heart race.

Jungkook’s eyes are serious, heavy and intense over you. All the playfulness is gone. None of you say a word. You don’t even know if you have the power to move considering how heavy the tension is.

He extends his arm and his fingertips touch your cheek. Your skin feels burning hot. Delicately, he puts a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s strange how he’s doing the exact same thing Taehyung did, but with Jungkook, this simple touch made you feel like exploding right there.

Jungkook is the one to come closer. Closer and closer and closer. Your breathing is heavy. He caresses your cheek his his thumb. Soon, his face is right in front of yours - noses touching, eyes locked and burning with something you can’t quite name.

You stare at each other like this for a moment until his gaze finally drops to your mouth.

You both lean in for the kiss at the same time.

You have already tasted these lips multiple times before - but now, it’s different. The kiss is slow; you move your lips unhurriedly and sweetly. Yet, this kiss feels much more intense than any other you have shared before. None of those times when you kissed him desperately with luxury being the only thing on your mind comes even close to the intensity of this kiss.

It almost feels that this is the actual first time you kiss Jungkook.

Your breathing gets even heavier as the kiss deepens. His hand rests on your waist, while yours hold his neck. The sloppy sounds of your lips and tongues moving together are the only audible thing in the apartment. Your whole being screams in excitement and anticipation when Jungkook moves his body to hover over yours, not even once breaking the kiss. Your right hand grabs his smooth hair while the other travels up and down his back; your body is getting burning hot. Jungkook moans very softly. You start to feel the familiar wetness on your panties.

Jungkook leans away for a moment; his lips are red and swollen, his hair is even messier now, his dark eyes are clouded with want and something you can’t name - something so strong that he’s able to make you shiver with that look alone. He leans down again and starts to kiss and suck your neck very slowly, making soft moans escape through your lips. His hand sneaks under your baggy shirt and he squeezes your breast. Soon, his lips are on yours again and the kiss becomes much deeper. You can already feel sweat forming on your forehead. Jungkook starts to grind on you; you can clearly feel his clothed erection rub against your own core, what makes more and more strangled moans come from both of you.

This is the hottest make out session of your life. The entire atmosphere is not what you’re used to; it’s not playful, none of you say a word. No teasing, no dirty talk. All you do is try to touch each other the best you can, never once breaking the kiss. It’s as if, with this kiss, you’re having a conversation… you’re telling each other everything you’re not brave enough to say out loud.

Soon, the desperation becomes too big. There’s no time to play, you just want to have him inside of you and feel his warm skin against yours. Unceremoniously, you start to undress yourselves, kissing every spot you can find in the process - neck, chest, stomach. Your clothes are thrown around the living room. You lay on your back again and Jungkook hovers above you once more, your legs entangling around his hips as he positions his hard member on your entrance.

You always avoided this position because it is too intimate; you’re forced to look at each other like this. This time, though, it doesn’t matter. You want to look at him - and the sight of his face contorting in pure pleasure, lips parted and eyes closed tightly as he eases himself inside of you, is almost as good as the feeling of being stretched after a long time.

Jungkook doesn’t move at first. He knows he’ll hurt you if he goes too hard right from the beginning. Instead, he waits until you call his name quietly in a strangled moan - the sign he needs to start thrusting. He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs the pillow under your head tightly as he picks up his pace, slow and steady, soft groans coming from the back of his throat that make you feel goosebumps. You hold his back with both hands. You can’t shut the moans anymore.

Sweat makes your skin slippery as he thrusts faster. Jungkook licks and bites your ear, moaning right into it, and it feels that this alone could make you cum. He then leans away for a moment, creating some space between your bodies to have a better angle to keep smashing himself into you - faster and faster, stronger and stronger. The usual sound of skin hitting skin, heavy breathing and moans is all you can hear.

You said that you didn’t ask him to sleep here just to have sex - and you weren’t lying.

But this doesn’t feel like just sex.

This isn’t fucking.

The pleasure is getting unsustainable and you both feel it. You close your legs around him even tighter and pull his face with both hands, sealing your lips in another intense, desperate kiss. It’s sloppy and unsynchronized. It’s raw and rough and so full of emotions you can’t comprehend that you feel your eyes tearing up again.

What you’re experiencing right now isn’t just two people finding pleasure in each other. It isn’t simply carnal instinct.

It is the deepest and most sincere way to connect with another being - without any words, through touches only.

You never felt anything like this in your life - not with Mike or any of your past boyfriends and hook ups. This is beyond lust. This is beyond sex.

Jungkook breaks the kiss apart for a second to look at you. Your gazes lock. God, he’s beautiful. Not only his appearance, but everything about him is beautiful.

And it is right now - stating deep into his eyes - that you come to a conclusion.

Jungkook has always been a part of you. But, in this exact moment, it feels like more.

It feels that you two became one.

He leans down and kisses you again. Your lips are tightly sealed when you both come at the same time.

Your trembling fingers still hold the strands of his damp hair tightly. You caress his face softly, putting some hair away from his eyes. Jungkook kisses you again. And again, and again, and again, and again.

You’re glad when he rests his head on your shoulder again, because like this, he can’t see the tears trickling down your temples.

It’s still hard to understand what just happened. Honestly, you think you’ll never fully understand.

But one thing you do understand, one thing that became as clear as the morning sky, is that your feelings for Jungkook are deeper and stronger than you ever imagined. He’s so much more than a friend.

Yet, you don’t know if he sees you the same way.

You don’t know if he felt the same things you did or if this was just one more time having sex with you. You don’t know if he still has feelings for Yeri or if he’s developing any for Joy.

You know nothing - and this fact makes your heart hurt as if it is being stabbed…

Because Jungkook, the best and most important part of you, might never be truly yours.

1K notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

How Wonderful Life Is (While You're in the World) (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Rosé has the perfect plan for proposing to Denali. If only she could get the plan to work.

A/N: So this idea came into my head and wouldn’t leave until I wrote it! I wish I had the same motivation for my homework honestly. It’s basically pure fluff and a little chaos. Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing and helping my pull the final scene together. Please leave some feedback if you’d like, I really appreciate it!

Title from Your Song by Elton John.

Rosé has had the ring for two weeks now. The plan, however, she’s had even longer. It’s carefully organized, each step written on the checklist (which Lagoona’s been teasing her for) in Rosé’s prim-and-proper handwriting (which Jan’s been teasing her for since they were kids). But she needs this proposal to be perfect, everything Denali deserves and more. Denali deserves the world, but even with her promotion at the fashion magazine, that’s out of Rosé’s price range, so this has to be special.

She sits with an eye on the door, waiting for Denali to come in and fling her bag on the couch. Then Rosé will spontaneously-but-not-really-spontaneously suggest they go eat at the Thai place where they had their first date. After dinner, she’ll develop a sudden desperate craving for ice cream–hey, she might as well put those old acting classes to good use–and they’ll go on a walk to get said ice cream. But not any walk—a path Rosé created herself, one that takes them to the same ice cream place where chocolate and pistachio sweetened their first kiss, past the art museum where they officially became girlfriends in front of a Monet, and finally into the park where they first met years ago, where Rosé will get down on one knee and pull out the ring burning a hole in her pocket.

A perfect full circle moment, one she knows Denali will love.

Her leg bounces as she waits. She knows Denali will say yes, but this is still a big step, even bigger than moving in together. But that had turned out so well, letting her be around Denali all the time, learning new parts of her girlfriend that she could tuck inside herself. Like how Denali still has a battered Nike shoebox of her old Pokémon cards. How her early rising for skating still lingers, inviting warm sunrise cuddles. How she’s so brave and fearless, yet still shrieks and throws random objects across the room when she sees a spider. It’s a step that let them create a home together, with fluffy blankets on the couch and cheesy photo-booth pictures on the fridge and both their favorite chips in the cupboard. A home in each other, hugs and kisses and support all the time. A step that became amazing, and this one will be even more so.

Until the door flies open and in comes a slightly limping Denali with a scowl on her face.

“Well, today fucking sucked.”

Rosé jumps off the couch, easing Denali’s skating bag off her shoulder. “What happened, baby?”

“First one of my design clients decided they wanted to change their costume right after we settled on the original design. Then this minivan mom screamed at me outside the rink for like ten minutes because I said her kid needed more practice before moving to the next age group. And then I was so distracted from everything I fell on my knee when I was practicing.”

“I’m sorry, Nali.” Rosé winces, one hand steady on Denali’s waist, the other rubbing her back, soothing Denali with gentle touches, reminders that she’s here. “Is it bad?”

“Nah, it’s just a bruise. I’ll put some ice on it and it’ll be fine.” Denali flops down on the couch, leaning back and sighing. “Can we order pizza?”

Rosé’s heart sinks as she realizes the proposal is off for the night. Denali’s stressed and exhausted, clearly not in the mood for having dinner out or going for a walk. Rosé doesn’t blame her, and she isn’t going to push things. Part of her is disappointed, her perfect plan in ruins, no chance of them going to bed giddily planning a wedding. But Denali needs comfort after a bad day, and that’s something Rosé will always love to give her.

“Of course,” Rosé says. “Anything else you need?”

Denali shakes her head. She’s tough, and after some food and sleep, she’ll be ready to take on the world. But that won’t stop Rosé from giving her anything she wants tonight, making sure she always has a soft place to land.

“I’ll order it and get you some ice. You just relax.”

It doesn’t have to be today, Rosé reminds herself as she settles next to Denali, careful not to bump her knee. She’ll just propose another night. Everything is fine. And when Denali falls asleep with her head in Rosé’s lap while Rosé gently strokes her hair, everything really is fine.

—

Rosé waits a few days before her second try, giving the universe time to let out all its bad, proposal-killing vibes. The ring is secure in her nightstand drawer, nestled between her vanilla lotion and melatonin gummies, and Denali is secure in her arms when they wake up. Tonight’s the night. Rosé can feel it.

Until the rain starts.

And not just any rain, but heavy, pouring rain, pounding on the roof and destroying umbrellas. The kind that soaks you through in seconds and leaves you shivering the whole day. No one would want to spend five seconds in that rain, let alone go for a romantic walk in it.

But it’s only morning, and these heavy storms never last. By tonight, the sun will shine and the world will glisten with leftover rainwater. A perfect setting for a proposal.

But when the rain is still screaming down when Rosé leaves work, rattling the windows as she and Denali curl up under a blanket with hot chocolate, she has to give up on this one.

—

Third time’s the charm, everyone says that, so Rosé’s optimistic when Attempt Three rolls around. Hope follows her all day at work, as she arranges photos of models and meets with Michelle to discuss next month’s issue, and there’s a spring in her step when she leaves her desk and strolls to the elevator with Symone.

“I can’t wait to see your layout tomorrow!” Symone says, adjusting her purse and closing the door.

“You mean Friday.”

“Tomorrow is Friday.” Symone’s excitement becomes concern. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” Rosé stammers, batting away the hand Symone extends toward her forehead. “I just mixed my days up for a minute.”

Symone nods, and only when they’re both out of the building does Rosé allow herself to exhale, frantically checking the date on her phone and swearing when it confirms that today is, in fact, Thursday. She’s been so focused on this round of the proposal that she missed a day somewhere. Her layout is due at midnight, and even though it’s almost done, she puts so much care into each one there’s no way to do the proposal and the layout tonight without hurting the quality of one of them, and she can’t do that. It’s not fair to give Denali anything less than her full attention, and she can’t submit half-assed work weeks after her promotion either. The proposal will have to wait.

Again.

The hope turns to lead as she drags herself into the apartment, sprawling out at the kitchen table with her laptop, massaging her temples to ward off the looming headache. She doesn’t even hear Denali come in until she drops a kiss on the top of her head.

“Deadline?” Denali guesses.

Rosé sighs, leaning back to chase another kiss, which Denali gives her. “Yeah. I got my days mixed up and it’s due tonight. I’m gonna be here a while. I’m sorry.”

Denali nods in understanding, brushing Rosé’s hair off her face, calming the stress buzzing in her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make dinner and then I can keep you company. I have some costume sketches to work on.”

Rosé nods gratefully, heart swelling with love as she returns to her work. She faintly registers Denali moving around the kitchen, swaying and humming whatever her favorite song is this week, until she sets down two plates of grilled cheese.

They eat their sandwiches, and Denali replaces the plates with their floral coffee mugs–pink roses and blue forget-me-nots–a comfortable silence spreading between them as they work. They didn’t need to talk, didn’t need much of anything, but liked knowing the other was there anyway. There’s always been this connection between them, the way they were completely attuned to each other’s moods, knowing when to give space or comfort or talk things through.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Rosé says, stretching her back and jumping as it cracks. “You can go to bed.”

“I’m staying,” Denali says, stubborn as always. “Besides, I don’t sleep as good without you, which makes no sense because you’re always kicking me.”

Rosé sneaks glances as Denali works, sketching a blue skating costume. Denali’s been teaching skating lessons for years and started making outfits for clients last summer, and it’s really taken off lately. Rosé loves watching her sketch, the way her tongue curls over her lip, the way her dimples peek out, the way her dark eyes narrow in focus. She’s absolutely beautiful, hair in a messy bun, sweatshirt that Rosé is pretty sure was once hers sloping down to reveal the curve of her shoulder. The woman Rosé’s going to marry. Denali grins as she finishes, and finally catches Rosé staring at her.

“What?” Denali asks.

Ask her, Rosé thinks. Ask her right now. And she almost does, plan be damned. But she doesn’t want it to seem like she’s just blurting it out for the hell of it, like it’s thoughtless. “Nothing,” Rosé says quietly.

“I’m on to you, Rosie,” Denali says.

Rosé’s heart skips a beat. What if Denali found the ring, what if she knows–

“You were just so dazzled by my smile it made you speechless,” Denali says, flashing her dimples again.

Rosé grins, trying not to sigh in relief. “You’re right, baby.”

It’s 11:03 when Rosé sends her layout to Michelle, slumping back in her chair and letting her exhausted eyes slide shut.

“Come on, Rosie. Let’s go to bed.” Denali’s hands help her up, and Rosé leans into her. Denali stayed with her this whole time, refilling her coffee mug and rubbing her shoulders, showing her funny videos she was watching on her phone, letting out soft encouragements when she got frustrated. Rosé knows how lucky she is to have Denali, and she nuzzles against her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she mumbles sleepily. “For stayin’ up with me.”

“Of course.” Denali presses a kiss to her cheek.

They collapse into bed, and Rosé falls asleep with her arms full of love.

—

Attempt Four doesn’t go wrong right away. In fact, everything is fine–no bad work days, no rain, no deadlines.

And then Jan calls.

“What do you mean your sitter cancelled?” Rosé demands into the phone.

“I mean my sitter cancelled. It’s not a difficult statement,” Jan says on the other end.

“And why does this involve me?” Rosé plays dumb, but she already knows where tonight is going, and it doesn’t include a ring.

Jan sighs. “Because Jackie has this work dinner tonight, and I want to be there for her, but we can’t leave the baby. Please, Rosie, pleeeease?”

“All right.”

“You’re a lifesaver!”

Rosé sighs, adding another tally to the failed proposal column.

She tries to make the most of the night, not wanting Denali to suspect anything’s wrong. She’ll know if something is off with Rosé, and Rosé doesn’t want Denali to get suspicious about what’s bothering her, or think she’s hiding something. Well, technically she is hiding something, but not in a bad way. So she happily takes baby Joey from Jan and rocks him slightly, smiling as he smiles. Denali leans over and tickles him, giggling as he giggles, and there’s something about her smile, about the overjoyed the-baby-likes-me gleam in her eyes, that makes her even more adorable.

“I bet I can make him laugh harder than you.” Denali sticks her tongue out to prove her point.

Rosé gives into her competitive side and twists half her mouth up and crosses her eyes, cheering when Joey shrieks with joy.

“All right, that’s enough. You keep making those faces and you’ll scar the kid for life,” Denali mumbles.

Joey sleeps most of the night, but they watch the whole Disney movie anyway, snuggled together, Rosé softly singing in Denali’s ear.

—

Over the next few weeks, Rosé tries, refusing to let the universe take her hope away. She tries again and again, each time thinking that this will finally be it, the day they finally become engaged. The ring glares at her every time she reaches for her melatonin, because as the failures pile up, so do her hours of tossing and turning. Attempt Five is crushed by the dump truck the city brings in to clean the park. Denali catches a cold from one of her skating students and Rosé makes soup and fusses over her on the night of Attempt Six, and when Rosé wakes up sneezing two days later, that’s the end of Attempt Seven. The ice cream shop posts on Instagram that they’re closed for the day due to electrical outages, and Attempt Eight melts away like ice cream in the sun. By this point, Rosé’s tempted to make a damn bingo card for the next thing to go wrong.

“I see I still don’t have a sister-in-law,” Jan says as she enters the apartment, Lagoona trailing behind her.

“Why do you want another sister? You have us.” Lagoona throws an arm around Rosé and flashes Jan a cheesy grin.

“That’s exactly why I want another one.”

Rosé sighs. “This is what I wanted to talk about, actually.”

Jan and Lagoona must sense her seriousness, because their bickering stops, faces attentive like every time Rosé has gone to them for help. They were there when she failed a math test, and when she realized she wanted to kiss girls the way other girls kissed boys, and when she was getting ready for her first date with Denali. They’re always armed with hugs and decent advice and (usually) decent fashion tips, and Rosé loves them for it.

“What’s going on?”

Rosé fidgets with her sleeve. “It’s just–every time I try to propose, something goes wrong. What if …” Rosé pushes on despite the crack in her voice, “what if it’s a sign I shouldn’t propose? That we shouldn’t get married?”

She’s been trying to stay hopeful. She and Denali have been together for four years, after all, and if a few mishaps delayed their proposal, well, they’d get there eventually, and laugh about everything later. But that was about four mishaps ago, and Rosé can’t shake the feeling tightening around her chest that they’ll never get to the laughing-about-it stage, that Denali will never wear the ring. A few mishaps are a coincidence, but how many coincidences can you have until they become something more, something you can’t ignore?

“Don’t even let yourself think that,” Jan says softly.

“Jan’s right, and I’ll probably never say that again, so stop analyzing and listen,” Lagoona says. “You’re trying too hard to make this perfect. Stuff just goes wrong sometimes. It only feels huge because you’re putting so much pressure on yourself.”

“And it doesn’t need to be perfect,” Jan adds. “I know you want to give her the best proposal ever, but Denali knows you love her. She wouldn’t want you to be this stressed. You could propose in a dumpster and she’d say yes.”

Lagoona nods. “Look, your plan is amazing, but maybe it’ll help if you lose the plan and just propose when it feels right. Then you don’t have to cancel it every time the smallest thing goes wrong.”

“But how will I know when it’s right?” Rosé asks. “I don’t want it to seem thoughtless, or disappointing.”

“Nothing you do would be thoughtless, and you’d never disappoint Denali, first of all.” Jan pulls her into a hug. “And honey, I think it already is right. That’s why you bought the ring.”

Rosé nods, every doubt immediately pushed away. Instead of clinging to the plan the way she would cling to her script and run lines over and over at theatre camp, she can let go of the plan, of waiting and waiting for every single factor to be ideal. She loves Denali, and any time to propose to her is the right time. Rosé knows it’s right, just like she knew moving in together was right, just like she knew asking Denali out in the first place was right. Denali has always felt right to Rosé, someone she can show herself and her heart to, and she’ll know when to do it.

—

Rosé has taken to carrying the ring around in her purse, just in case she’s pushing her luck keeping it hidden in the apartment, but also in case the moment hits her while she and Denali are out somewhere. She likes having it close, touching the black velvet box and assuring herself of the promise inside.

Even with her new plan of not having a plan, she still struggles to get the words out. There have been some close calls–a weekend morning half-asleep in bed together, sunlight making Denali’s face gold, or having coffee in a cozy cafe, Denali tilting her head back to laugh at something Rosé said. But she always stumbles over exactly what she wants to say, or hesitates just a second too long, and the moment passes, or Denali moves on to something else.

Tonight, she’s flipping pancakes while Denali tends to the eggs.

“Why do you love breakfast for dinner so much?” Rosé mumbles, dodging Denali as she throws salt and pepper on the eggs like they’ve personally offended her.

“Breakfast food tastes better at night. You’re having a certain food at a time you’re not supposed to have it, so it’s like all sexy and forbidden and shit, and it tastes better. Same rule applies to pizza for breakfast.” Denali shrugs, like it’s common knowledge.

“I’m sorry I asked.” Rosé adds chocolate chips to the pancakes, Denali’s favorite.

They dig in to eat, and Denali jokes that she should make a skating costume based on breakfast foods, with a waffle skirt and ruffles that look like bacon, and Rosé can’t stop laughing, torn somewhere between amusement and horror.

Denali is laughing too, arms swinging around as she pretends to model the garment, her eyes sparkling, and it hits Rosé all at once in that moment. God, I love her so much.

“Marry me,” Rosé says.

Denali stills at once. “What?”

“I–hang on.” Rosé sprints to her purse, digs out the ring, and lowers her knee to the kitchen floor. Her heart throbs in her chest, but a smile from Denali shows she has nothing to worry about. “Denali, I … I had this perfect plan of how to propose to you, but every time I tried, something went wrong and stopped me. But the plan doesn’t matter. You matter. You matter more than anything to me, and this might not be perfect, but it’s you, and you’re always perfect to me. Will you marry me?”

Denali’s eyes glisten with tears. “Of course I’ll marry you, Rosie. I love you so much.”

The ring fits perfectly when Rosé slides it on her finger, and Denali fits perfectly in Rosé’s arms when she pulls her in for a kiss.

“So you did that little speech on the fly, huh?” Denali asks when they pull apart and sit back down.

“I am an improv queen, you know. Got the theatre camp certificate to prove it.” Rosé laughs. “But yeah. Instead of writing what I wanted to say, or thinking too much, I just … said it. And it’s all true, because I love you.”

Denali smiles, reaching out to take Rosé’s hand, stroking her thumb across the back of it. She gets a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, how many times did you try to do this? I just want to know.”

“I think the official count is eight.” By the time Rosé finishes telling them all, they’re both crying tears of laughter and clutching at sore stomachs, splitting the bottle of champagne they opened.

Denali looks at her after she’s done, and Rosé knows she’s crying for real now.

“You’re not disappointed, are you? The plan was way better, I was gonna–”

“I don’t need to know what the plan was,” Denali says firmly, “because I love the proposal you did. You could never disappoint me, Rosie. Never.” She sniffles. “I’m crying because I just–I can’t believe you tried that hard to do this for me. You’re basically the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“I love you,” Rosé says simply, and even if she couldn’t do the perfect proposal, she’s glad Denali knows how much she loves her, how she would do anything for her.

“I love you too,” Denali says. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll get to do that proposal some day after all.”

But Rosé doesn’t care if she does or not. Because she and Denali are getting married.

—

One Month Later

Rosé has a new checklist (which Lagoona’s been teasing her for) in her prim-and-proper handwriting (which Jan’s been teasing her for since they were kids). It’s a notebook, really, stuffed with all the things they have to do for the wedding–check out venues and finalize the guest list and then look at menus and decor and about a hundred other things. But Denali commanded her to leave it home today, because they both need a break.

“Can we get lunch?” Denali asks.

“We didn’t even shop yet.”

“But I’m hungry,” Denali whines.

“Okay, okay.” Denali’s hanger can level a city block, and Rosé knows she needs to get some food in her. “How about that burger place?”

“Too far. We’re only a block from that Thai place, let’s just go there.”

They get to their table just before the lunch rush hits, and Rosé thinks of how she’d been so sweaty before their first date that she had to put on extra deodorant in the bathroom. She’s calm and peaceful now, Denali slurping noodles across from her, their feet brushing without any thought of whether a first date was too early for that.

“I think those noodles gave me heartburn.” Denali rubs her chest as they walk out.

“Maybe it was the fact that you ate a giant bowl of them–”

“Oh, hush, Rosie. Oooh, you know what my mom says cures heartburn? Ice cream!”

Rosé doesn’t think that’s medically accurate, but she’s not going to challenge her future mother-in-law; even if the woman is miles away, her hearing is excellent, and it’s just not worth the risk.

She follows Denali into the ice cream place, helping her sort through all the flavors for her massive cone with extra rainbow sprinkles (‘what kind of lesbian would I be if I didn’t get rainbow sprinkles, Rosie?’ Denali demands, and Rosé gets extra on her strawberry cone too).

“Okay, I officially ate too much.”

“Again, you literally had three scoops of ice cream and a waffle cone.”

“Don’t remind me.” Denali looks slightly green, and Rosé just hopes this day doesn’t involve vomit. “I just gotta–I gotta walk it off,” Denali says, trying to nod convincingly, easing her hands off her stomach.

“If you throw up, please don’t do it on my shoes.”

“Noted.”

As much as Rosé hates barf, she can’t stop keeping a close eye on Denali as they walk, one steady hand on her back in case she needs it. Denali’s taking measured, trying-not-to-throw-up breaths as they walk, Rosé so focused on her that she barely notices where they’re going.

Denali comes to a sudden stop, her breathing back to normal in an instant, and Rosé finally notices they’re in the park.

And then it hits her.

They had Thai food.

They had ice cream.

They went on a walk together.

And now they’re in the park.

“I think you have something to ask me.” Denali grins smugly, but Rosé’s brain is still lagging, trying to piece together how Denali executed the plan perfectly.

“How did you—I never even told you what the original plan was!” Rosé stammers.

Denali’s smile stretches to her ears. “No, but Jan and Lagoona were more than happy to tell me.”

“Those two and their big mouths.” Rosé shakes her head, but she can’t believe how they teamed up with Denali and went through all this so the proposal could happen the way she dreamt.

“Yep. They also said they were gonna hide in the trees and watch, and I think they were joking, but you never know.”

Rosé cackles. She wouldn’t put it past the two of them to abuse the internet and order those fancy camouflage hunting suits to hide in, and when her quick look at the trees reveals nothing, she wonders if they really did.

“You—you really did all this for me,” Rosé says in wonder. “Lunch and ice cream and pretending to be sick so I was distracted and wouldn’t figure it out.”

As much as she told herself things ended up okay, part of her still wanted to do it, express her love the best way she could. She’s always been one for big, meaningful gestures where she could let out the love bursting inside her. And now she gets to, because of Denali.

“You’re not the only actress in the family,” Denali teases. “I know how much the proposal meant to you, Rosie. I wanted you to be able to do it.” Denali slips her ring off and offers it to Rosé. “Go on, ask.”

Rosé takes the ring and carefully gets down on one knee. Her body is warm from the sun and from love, and the words she finally says are a combination of her planned speech from months ago, and everything bursting in her heart right now.

“Denali, the first time we met was right in this park, at the skating rink. I bumped into you, and when I saw you, I was so glad I’m a shitty skater.” She grins. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I love your passion, and your talent, and your kindness. I love you when you’re screaming over video games, and when you’re in your sad blanket burrito, and even when you drink too much coffee and get too hyper. And you love me too, even when I’m grumpy or I won’t stop singing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I promise that I will never, ever stop loving you, no matter what. Denali, will you marry me?”

“For the second time, yes, I will.”

She slides the ring on Denali’s finger for the second time, and as she pulls Denali in for a kiss, she knows that, plan or no plan, her life as Denali’s wife will be infinitely perfect.

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #denali foxx #rosé #jan sport #lagoona bloo #rosnali #lesbian au #fluff #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

10 notes · View notes

littlemspeachy · 3 years

Text

This Conversation is Getting Older and Older

Part Two of You Keep Me Waiting

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Murder, A character is racist

Word Count: 3.8K (Yup y’all are getting more to read)

Draco stares at where Hermione was once stood and sighed before muttering a repairing spell that fixes the broken picture frame, then came organizing his notes for Yazmeen while he was out.

"Hey, Draco, it's Yazmeen. I came for your notes on the death eater case," Yazmeen announced, peeking into his office.

Draco shot the younger girl a smile. "Yeah, I was getting them cleaned up for you. I know how much you hate having to work with illegible writing."

She laughs and shakes her head. "It's fine, you're fine. It's other people on this floor I have to worry about. But um.."

Draco looks up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Nevermind, I'll talk to you when you get back."

Draco nods and hands over his revised notes. "Take good care of them. They're the only kind."

"I'm pretty sure that I can read your actual notes. But thank you anyway."

Draco smiles at her and watches her leave before grabbing his things and following after her.

"You know, for such a smart wizard, I came in here easily." She says coldly.

Draco pauses in his living room, unsure how to start the conversation.

"Daphne, I made it sure you could come in."

"You need to sign them," Daphne says, pulling a pen from her purse and setting it down on the divorce papers laid out before her.

"Not before my father dies," He responded, voice tight.

"I don't really care about your feelings about your father, and he's practically a shell of a human anyway. Why do you think he's back at the manor?" She shot back, staring pointedly at Draco.

Draco stays quiet because she's right: His father doesn't do anything but look outside to the garden, and he isn't improving his mother's health either in fact, she's gotten worse because of his father being back/ He was thinking of killing him, but after working in law enforcement he wasn't sure how that was going to work.

"Just sign the papers. This isn't for you; it's for me, so get over yourself." Her voice annoyed at how long this situation was taking her.

He sighs because she was right: He was being selfish. Making them stay married even though they haven't been in the same room for longer than 10 minutes in the past 8 years unless it was an event that was centered around his mother. So he walks over to sign the papers.

"Your mother misses you, you know, and she wants an explanation."

Draco pauses the signing of his last mane to look at the woman in front of him before he goes back to signing his last name.

"I don't know why you continue to visit her."

"Because at least one of us to maintain the image of a proper person. We all can't go running around like children on the playground."

Draco rolls his eyes equally as annoyed at his now ex-wife. "Listen, here're the documents, just send me an owl with a court date, and I'll make sure to be there."

Daphne just sighed and slipped the papers into her purse, and leaves through the front door. "You need to talk to her. Also, I poured out the tea. It was getting old.

Draco simply stares at her leaving, leaving his house and his life.

Maybe it was better this way.

He steps out of Hermione's fireplace and into a living room. A room that he knew way too well for simply being fuckbuddies with her roommate.

"I thought you had better wards up 'mione." A familiar voice commented from the other room.

"I did. It was Yazmeen who let him in." Hermione said, watching Draco step out of her fireplace. Fred followed her gaze and watched as Draco got reacquainted with the apartment. Draco noticing their gaze on him.

"Are you two just going to stare at me? If so, I could've met you at the train station," Draco commented, annoyed.

Fred laughs. "Some people never change. I'll see you when you get back," Fred said, smiling at the brown-skinned woman. He pauses at the door. "Keep her safe, Malfoy."

That, for some reason, catches him off guard, but he manages to get out a quick, yeah.

Hermione watched Fred leave before turning back to the blond-haired man who has moved out of her living room.

"You ready to go? I need to call a cab." Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. Don't know about you, though... Seemed a bit preoccupied." He shrugs, back turned away, looking at some artwork on the wall.

Hermione doesn't validate the statement and instead goes to call a cab. "One is in the area, and it'll be here in about 3 minutes."

Draco doesn't respond, so they exist in silence before Hermione asks, "You've been here plenty of times.. You don't stay over like you used to?"

Draco turns quickly to face the curly-haired woman. "Yeah, unlike like some of us, we have work to do."

"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's obvious half your stuff isn't here, and with Fred being over, I'm going to assume it's at his place?"

All Hermione does is glare before going to look outside to her window. She notices the yellow cab outside, and instead of telling him of the new development, she simply grabs her bag and leaves but unfortunately for her, Draco is a smart man, and he quickly follows after her.

The ride to the train station is filled with tension and silence. Draco likes to think that he wondered if he overstepped a boundary, but then he remembered that he could care less about how he picked at her sex life. If she wanted to do that to him, he could do the same to her. But due to that pettiness, nobody spoke until they were on the train and even then, there wasn't much talking done.

"How are you?"

Hermione glares at him from her seat before rolling her eyes, annoyed at the question "You left me Draco,"

"You left me too; this wasn't a one-person thing,"

"So when were you going to tell me you were married?"

"I wasn't then, and I'm not now."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines that wrote back to back articles about you and Krum? Since when did you listen to them? Also, when did you start caring for me outside of the bedroom?"

"I don't know but stop asking like you weren't the one knocking on my door at first."

The silence informs them both that neither of them have been good. Not that they were ever good, especially not back in college. Running to each other to find something familiar only to go back to hating each other the next day. That's what made the sex good, they both think. Too much passion made anything feel good during the moment, but it's in the morning that you have to wonder whether it was really worth it.

"So are you with him now? You hop from one ginger dick to another?

"Oh, I didn't know you were ginger, and it seems like we're both following patterns."

That one shuts him up because he realizes that he hasn't changed and only moved on to her intern, whose skin looks like the woman's sitting in front of them when the sun hits it just right.

"Also, I don't mind you having sex with Yazmeen, but having sex with every black woman in our office is.... A bit suspicious."

Draco doesn't know how to respond to the claim, so he simply changes the topic "Are you going to Harry's wedding?"

Hermione's eyes snap from the blond man to the window across from him. "Of course, I'm the maid of honor."

Draco isn't really surprised by the admission, "What an Honor. But you know it's surprising that she gave birth before being married."

"Not really.. Might have been going at it for a while, but unlike you, he can stay committed."

"What are you so mad at me for?"

"I don't know? How about we start with the fact that you left Daphne right after getting married, only to start sleeping with me 3 months later. And then lying to her about it. She thought you loved her; I mean, sure, we all knew it wasn't going to last. But she wanted to at least make it work. But there we were fucking in the backseat while she was in the store."

"Listen, it takes two, don't pretend like you're innocent." He shot back-way too quickly for a man who wanted to seem unaffected from the claims.

"That would be a good claim, but there you were in my bed way past time for you to go, talking to me about the future and how uncertain you were and all that other bullcrap only for you to be in a dedicated marriage. It'd be a bit different if you both didn't give a damn."

Draco sat in silence because she was right. Always right.. Never wrong. Never wrong in the classes they were and certainly never wrong about the life they lived

"Well, we're getting a Divorce... to legalize the situation."

Hermione glares at him. "So that's what makes this better? A divorce after what? 5 years?"

Draco wants to say yes, but after knowing the woman sitting next to him for the past 18 years, he knows a warning sign he sees one, so he drops the subject.

They both know that they'll need to talk about this again, and they didn't need to read tea leaves for that. But just like tea, it can only steep for so long before becoming bitter, or maybe they were past that stage, and it just needed to be poured out.

The train comes to their stop, and they go to a cab that was already waiting for them; they both think that even though Sanchez is annoying and strict, he still knows how to be hospitable if hospitable meant a very homely looking hotel.

"Is this it? The place we're supposed to be staying?" Draco asked, voice full of disgust.

"Yea, this was the address given to me by Sanchez."

Hermione and Draco stared at the small white and brown homely inn that looked like its been around since the dark ages.

"Let's go. It's only a night." Hermione whispered, giving a nudge to Draco.

They climb out of the car and were preparing to go in before the driver rolled down the window. "I'm going to be here by 6 tomorrow evening to take you back to the train station and if need to floor just tell the lady at the desk and she'll help you. Good Luck."

They nod before walking in and realizing that the inside looks exactly like the outside. Homely and cold-one of the great perks of being in a city next to the water.

"Check-in for Sanchez," Hermione said, smiling at the hostess.

Draco stayed in the back and looked around, hoping to see something that would indicate the age of this inn, but unfortunately, nothing stood out but a pattern in one of the supporting beams.

"Hey, got the key," Hermione says, jingling the key in his face before walking down the hallway where the supposed hotel room was.

"15, 25, 35, and 45 is the lucky number."

"Why are the doors numbered like that?"

"I don't know you're the pureblood you tell me,"

Draco rolls her eyes at her response. "Why the hell would I know that?"

"The wizarding world is a weird place, and rich kids are supposed to be cultured," Hermione joked before seeing their bedding situation. "Of fucking course, how brilliant."

Draco was confused by her sudden change of tone until he saw what she was talking about: One bed.

One medium-sized bed in a room that was freezing cold.

As Draco starts to say something, Hermione cuts him off. "Listen, we can talk about this later," Hermione sighs before setting down her bag. "I'll go down and call us a cab to the station."

Draco watches her walk away with only her purse, confused as to why she never lets him talk. But he dismissed the thought when he casted a quick charm to keep their bags safe.

They get to the station and head over to sign in at the front desk "Officer Granger and Officer Malfoy is here to talk to... Your head officer, officer Pearce I believe, is the name, about the recent killings." Hermione says confidently while leaning slightly on the wooden desk.

"Why does he look so confused?" an officer asks while coming up behind the secretary that was checking her computer for confirmation.

"Listen, he doesn't do fieldwork; he does office stuff. This is his first time. Give him a break," Hermione confides, laughing slightly at the Blond man's facial expression.

The officer laughs and checks the computer that shows the confirmation. "Alright, let me check your IDs, and I'll get you guys back there." Draco and Hermione gave their IDs to the officer, and he nods that suggests they follow him to the back.

"Have you seen any pictures of the body? or any of the bodies?" Draco asks. He hasn't seen a dead body since the war, and even though it's been 10 years, the sight of them still can keep him up for days. He wonders how Harry moved on. He thinks he should ask him.

"No, we were only asked to get the statement from the old lady, and even then, it's a bit spotty."

"Well, can you fax a copy to our office so that we have a hard version in London? We're not going to take long." Hermione says, her voice more determined than usual.

"Yeah, I can do that for you. Alright, here's his office, by the way, he doesn't like this kind of stuff, so... You gotta be smart." The officer they were following says before knocking on a door that had the name of Anthony Pearce.

"Come in." A baritone voice commands from behind the door.

"Alright, good luck."

Hermione and Draco give the optimistic officer a nod before heading into the office.

"Hello Officer Pearce, we are investigators sent from London to talk to you about the report that was given to you after a recent murder against a young woman," Draco says, looking around the office before landing on the officer's face.

Hermione thinks that the officer looks like one of the men from Mama Mia.

"So when did they start sending in young ones with fancy outfits to deal with murder cases?" He inquired before lighting a cigarette.

"We aren't dealing with the murder it's self we're just trying to find out about the... uh.. designs being left on the bodies of the victims. I'm officer Malfoy, and this is my partner Granger." Draco shoots back at the man. He knew they were young for their field; there was no denying that, but they were good at their jobs, and there will be no one that questions that, muggle or not.

Officer Pearce raises a brow before tapping his cigarette into the ashtray. "Is that so? If you're only dealing with the designs, why do you want the lady's statements?"

"We want her statements because she was the last one to talk to the lady that was most recently killed, and she could possibly tell us some information that could help us understand what's going on," Draco responds with a slight huff.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Dracos body language 'how immature. You don't hold any power out here, pretty boy.'

"If that's the case, I could've just sent the report to your office. Why come all the way here for something we could've faxed you?" The older man responds, a demeaning edge to his voice.

"Because we're going to interview the woman tomorrow, and since we were in the city, we decided to question you directly. But if you don't want to comply, I can and will have you arrested for obstruction of justice." Hermione responds, a clear tone of annoyance in her voice.

Pearce stares at Hermione and then looks at Draco. "You should keep her around; she gets stuff done. And I'll get you the interview report, and I can't tell you anything because I didn't conduct it and what was said was nothing out of the usual... But I have received some pictures of the, uh, drawings." He says before going through a drawer and bringing out a manila folder.

"Can we look at them?" Hermione asked softly.

"I can make you a copy," He says, putting out his cigarette before heading over to the printer. "Now, why'd you come here? These murders have been happening for a while."

"It's because our office thought these were stand-alone cases. It's London.. And unfortunately, people get killed all the time." Hermione says slowly, making her seem sadder than she actually was.

"Understandable, but Liverpool does have its crime.. Luckily we're not in the city, so it's a bit easier for us." Pearce says before handing Draco the first page.

"If you don't mind me asking... Why were you so resistant to us knowing the information?" Draco asked, passing the page to Hermione.

"Because whoever is doing this is getting off scot-free. And they're sick cunts too. Imagine, instead of just killing the bloke, you carve patterns into their skin. I tell ya it's some of them, refugees." Pearce says, handing them the next two copied pages.

Hermione looks up from the pictures. "Sir, this is obviously not Arabic. And it's interesting that a cop that is supposed to serve his community has those kinds of feelings for the people he's supposed to be protecting."

"Nah, none of them live around here, and a good thing too. Don't want them to be committing crimes and stuff." Pearce says, walking back to his desk and lighting another cigarette.

Draco noticed the fist tightly wrapped around the paper before speaking up. "Thank you for your time here, sir... If we hear anything thing new, we'll make sure to let you know."

Pearce simply nods before going off into his own world as they left.

"What a fucking bigot." Hermione angrily whispered. Draco stayed silent shocked at the bluntness of the officers' rudeness, but then he realized that his father was the same towards muggles.

They walked to the front and thanked the secretary, and then went to an empty-looking coffee shop across the street.

"My father was like that, wasn't he?" Draco asks while they were sitting down in their chosen seats.

Hermione looks up from the small menu provided at their table. "You think?"

Draco drops the subject before reaching over and grabbing the files.

"How may I help yous?" A bubbly waitress asked Hermione, almost completely ignoring Draco.

"I would like a cup of coffee, straight please." Hermione says with a smile that makes the younger girl blush.

"And I would like a cup of earl grey and some of the strongest stuff you have." Draco says dryly.

The waitress doesn't respond but jots the items down. "That'll be right out."

Draco watches the waitress retreat to behind the bar. "What the hell was that about?"

"Aww, are you mad that you didn't get attention?" Hermione teasingly giggled while picking up her well used legal pad.

Draco didn't respond.

"Hey, Malfoy, do you work with still work with ruins, or are your college years being wasted on artifacts?" Hermione asks, laying out the pictures in front of her.

"Mainly artifacts and studying the charms people put on them," He responds before the waitress came over.

"Here is your drink and alcohol, and your drink, ma'am, is still being made." The waitress says in a light, bubbly tone.

Hermione nods in recognition, but her brows stay furrowed in concentration.

The waitress leaves before Draco speaks up again, clear liquid in hand.

"Don't drink that right now," Hermione says, quickly looking up and snatching the glass of clear liquid. She sniffs if before confirming. "It's moonshine.. That's some powerful stuff, and if you want to coherent while researching, then I suggest you leave that for later." Hermione informs before pulling out an empty flask.

Draco looks at her curiously before pouring the clear liquid into the flask.

"Look, they didn't die graphically. There's no blood if that what you're worried about." Hermione says, looking up at the blond across from her.

"No..That's- I just.. If something big happens when we're on this case, we're going to become much more than researchers, and I just- I left the field for a reason, and I really don't care to be put back in. I was perfectly fine at my desk and perfectly capable of what I was doing."

Hermione looks at him deeply at him before looking back down at the ruins. "That's wonderful to know, and I understand I really do, but we've been working under Sanchez since our internships. And I know that he's smart enough not to let his head researchers go into the field blindly just to get killed. He knows we can handle ourselves out here. Meaning you gotta start trusting yourself. Plus, after this, we'll probably get a nice vacation offering once we're done, so suck it up and let's figure this out before more people die."

Draco sips on his tea, considering the words of the intelligent woman in front of him.

"Here's your coffee, ma'am... Buy the way it's on the house." The waitress interrupts, setting down the requested coffee.

Draco rolls his eyes at the "sincere" action before grabbing his wallet and handing the young woman 100 pounds. "Keep the change."

Hermione gawks at the exchange but doesn't voice her comment until the woman goes away.

"Do you know how much money that is?"

Draco sends her a confused look before replacing his wallet with his glasses. "All right, what are we looking at."

"Well, firstly, you're starting to look like Harry for one. I get you both are basically office mates but geez. And secondly, I think it's Egyptian. Like something found in tombs, but then there's more stuff that I can't really think of... Maybe Mayans?"

Draco grabs a pictured and stares before shaking his head. "Possibly, but there seems to be a mix of several curses among the charms. Those are most certainly from Egypt, and that's probably how the doctors died," He says before grabbing another picture. "Yeah, because they look like hieroglyphics, and so they decoded them and then cursed themselves. But how he got them on the body is what's' really confusing."

Hermione nods before asking, "Don't you have tea with you?"

"Yeah, but I know it's cold, and so I got a new cup."

A new cup indeed.

#dramione #fanfic #chapter two #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter #black hermione granger #fanfiction #series

17 notes · View notes