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#in this house we do talk about Bruno
hadersgf · 2 years
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LMAO my friend dragging me and my crush on sad rat man 🐸🥴🐀⏳💚🫶🏻
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cyle-stuff · 8 months
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AYO OWL HOUSE FANDOM!!
NEW SONG!!
“We Don’t Talk About Belos”
(A parody song of We Don’t Talk About Bruno from Encanto)
ANYWAY, GO LISTEN!!
ITS FUCKING GOOD!!
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Made by Tomotasauce on YouTube, featuring, Not-So-Average-Fangirl and ShelbeanieVO
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chaoticcoffeequeen · 1 year
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Helaena may be the dreamer of the family who prophecizes the future but Daeron is the one no one talks about.
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I rewatched “Encanto” with my sibling, and it was my second time viewing. So, I used my brain and here’s a hypothesis. (I did not proofread, and sometimes mirabel corrects to miracle and I think abuela might be corrected once, heads up).
SO obviously, while casita loves all of them, miracle is obviously Mirabel is the favorite. Bear with me, I'm gonna elaborate, but I have to set this out first. I think that while casita has it's own conscious, it is energized by two souls. Until the end, I believe it was Abuelo and Abuela. When Mirabel tried for the door, casita was occupied by two souls already, and shut her out. But, abuelo’s soul saw that because she is destined to help hold the house, he begins to let go of his hold so that he can find peace. Here's my thought process:
Miracle walks up to the door, casita shuts her out but favors her from then on. But, as soon as this happens, the candle flickers for the first time. This is the beginning of Abuelo’s soul letting go so that he can finally be at rest (but he can't do that until the two holders will be emotionally ready). Regardless, his soul now has less of a share on the house, and Abuela, who's soul never found peace with what happened, now has more of a share. Because of this emotional turmoil, it begins to crack.
I think this is obvious, but the candle’s stability is emotionally centered around the family. Because Abuela never found peace, not only is it upsetting the balance, but I think it's a huge reason that Abuelo’s soul stayed for 50 years (along with making sure the family was ok).
The butterfly is seen in Bruno's vision, and while it symbolically represents several things, such as being able to begin anew, I think it is also a physical representation of abuelo’s soul. Fate leads mirabel and Abuela to the spot where he died. In that exact spot where he died is the prophesized plant, where the golden butterfly lands. We hear (and see) a song that shows the two lovers to be caterpillars turned to butterflies. I believe around the part where he does it mentions them to be chrysalis and then butterflies. They became two different things but we're in the end, still the same, and the butterfly was engraved on the candle.
The candle burns out, and it is only after there is no longer a butterfly on the candle that I remember seeing his butterfly. His soul has finally let go of the house, and because abuela was not ready to trust her family, it fell apart. Anyway, they go to the river and abuela finally is at peace with what happened and what everything has become because if her resentment, and wants to fix her family together. It is only then that the butterfly representing abuelo’s spirit leaves in a cluster(?) of other similar butterflies, who may symbolize similar things and departed souls. He finally goes to the afterlife, knowing that after all those long year's, the family that he loves so much will be ok.
Abuela and Mirabel go home, and they all build a new foundation together. So at this point, I'm not quite sure if it rests soley on mirabel or not, but I'm pretty sure that Abuela has at least some share. I think casita needs either a strong, willing, and living soul to keep it alive, or two souks that can balance it out.
I don't doubt that I left parts out, it's late, and I did not refer to the movie while writing this. It is just from what I remember. Anyway, it's late and this movie makes me emotional and I nearly cried when casita waved goodbye and hello.
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aetherdecember · 2 years
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GUYS I have a hot new take on Encanto, courtesy of my spouse...
The Encanto is actually a floating island and when the candle fades everything cracks/falls apart because the island crashed.
Like... I’ve watched this movie over a dozen times and I’m trying to comprehend where he got that idea? And also, why am I only learning about this theory of his now??? I could’ve been making fic content of this!
(P.S. I saved this in my drafts weeks ago, forgot about it, and recently found it again while looking for my drafted notes on something else... I have started a fic about this though, it’s on my ao3.)
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fandom · 1 year
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Top 22 of 2022
It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for, folks. Fifty-two weeks of cold hard data measuring original posts, likes, reblogs, and searches, weighted and ranked. And it all ultimately comes down to this: not only is Stranger Things the #1 topic on Tumblr over this last year of data, but fans posted so much about Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington that they also made the list of Top Things.
Meanwhile, season 2B of the beloved animated series The Owl House aired, along with the first episode of the final season, which turned out to be a rollercoaster of coming out joy and absolute heartbreak. Evergreen favorites Critical Role’s Bells Hells, a mix of familiar and new faces, have spent the year adventuring around Marquet. And we don’t talk about Bruno, no, no, no, but Encanto fans sure do. 
On the MCYT front, several new Minecraft SMP servers provided a ton of content for MCYT fans, treating them to new stories and character dynamics. This year was also marked by mourning as the community grieved the passing of one of their own—the popular streamer Technoblade. 
In other gaming news, Pokémon Legends: Arceus and Pokémon Scarlet and Violet have players catchin’ and battlin’ away. And over the past year, Deltarune players stocked up on bananas, while Genshin Impact players hoarded primogems to wish for their favorite banner characters. 
Back on the small screen, folks have had a lot of emotions about the very gay pirate show Our Flag Means Death and the (somewhat sapphic) League of Legends animated series Arcane. House of the Dragon took us back to Westeros and really leaned into “complicated family dynamics,” while “complicated shipping dynamics” was the theme for Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir. And between Battinson and Batman: Wayne Family Adventures, it was a big year for a character with some serious emotional issues.
Finally, aesthetic bloggers rejoice! Cottagecore and Dark Academia are both on here. Halloween was big, which makes sense because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Of course, this list wouldn’t be complete without BTS—some things don’t change. And to round us out, please remember to like, reblog, and thank our resident Artists on Tumblr, who continue to nourish us and our dashboards with their incredible creations. This is Tumblr’s Year In Review.
Stranger Things
The Owl House
Artists on Tumblr
Critical Role
Encanto
MCYT
Pokémon
Eddie Munson | Stranger Things
Our Flag Means Death
Deltarune
The Dream SMP Minecraft Server
Cottagecore
Star Wars
Arcane
Genshin Impact
House of the Dragon
Dark Academia
Batman | The DC Universe
Steve Harrington | Stranger Things
Halloween
BTS
Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
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rubyreduji · 7 months
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timeless — ljh
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summary: you’ve just met jihoon, yet something about him feels familiar
tags: fluff, romance, reincarnation?, gn!reader warnings: arranged marriages, mentions of death and war  reader notes: no pronouns or explicit gender descriptions but they do take a more feminine role in history, jihoon picks up the reader but my mans is strong okay don’t worry wc: 10.3k an: i’ve been writing this for over a month now fjdskla and i like the finished product but im a bit worried the format is choppy but either way please enjoy and show it lots of love...also happy first fic of the 2nd year of rubyreduji!!!
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“Soonyoung, stop it!” You scold your best friend as he giggles at you.
“Just go talk to him!” Soonyoung tells you, pushing you towards the door to the antique shop next to your favorite boba place. 
Him refers to the cute cashier you always see through the windows when you and Soonyoung go and get boba (which is about three times a week). It’s nothing more than a hallway crush but Soonyoung keeps insisting that it could be more than that if you would just go talk to him. 
You don’t actually want to talk to the boy who stands at the counter with a smile, but before you can stop him Soonyoung is opening the door to the store and forcing you inside. When you turn around to chew your best friend out, you find him not there, his back already retreating to the boba shop. 
A part of you wants to just dash back out the door but the bell attached to the door has already gotten the attention of the cashier and you can’t escape now.
“Welcome to The Eternity Emorpium, today anything marked with a green sticker is 20% off.” The voice isn’t what you expected Cute Cashier to sound like but when you turn around to face him, you realize you’re not talking to Cute Cashier at all.
Rather than the tall boy with glasses you’ve been peeking in on for the past few months, you come face to face with a short yet buff boy with long black hair. He most definitely is not the guy you came in for, but you have to admit he is just as (if not more) cute than the other cashier.
You’re not sure how you didn’t notice that your normal Cute Cashier wasn't behind the counter, but in your defense you were too busy fighting off Soonyoung.
You give the new cashier—who you have now dubbed Even Cuter Cashier—a smile, before pretending to look at all of the memorabilia set out. The actual shop is nice with an obvious theme and specific layout that only someone with an eye for aesthetic and organization could create. On the speakers a Bruno Mars song is playing and you wonder if it's the cashier who has control over the music or just a general store playlist.
You feel awkward walking around the shop, letting out fake hums every once in a while to make it seem like you're actually shopping and not just sneaking glances at Even Cuter Cashier whenever you can. You stop in front of a playing card deck and you pick it up, flipping it over in your hand a couple of times.
"Oh, we just got those in," Even Cuter Cashier says, startling you a bit. "Put them on the floor this morning. You into cards?"
"Oh, uh," Shit. This is your chance to talk to him, "yeah. My dad is more of a collector than I am, but I can see the appeal."
"Nice. Yeah I'm more of a guitar collector myself, but my wallet wishes I wasn't," he says and you both laugh.
"That's cool though. I would love to learn how to play an instrument but I definitely don't have the talent or patience for that." As you speak with the man you slowly start to drift towards the counter.
"Hey, anyone can be talented, it just takes practice." You quickly glance down at Even Cuter Cashier's name tag to see his actual name is Jihoon.
"Good inspirational quote, but I think I'll just stick to the playing cards," you tell him with a grin as you set the pack down in front of him.
Jihoon just pushes the cards back to you and when you give him a questioning look he just grins. "They’re on the house.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you tell him.
“I wanted to,” he says. “Maybe it’s just my plan to get you to come in here again.”
You smile at Jihoon, your face starting to turn a bit hot. You pick up the pack of cards and bid goodbye to the cashier before turning and leaving. Soonyoung is standing outside the door with two boba cups in hand. He peeks in when you open the door and frowns.
“That’s not Cute Cashier.”
“Nope! That’s Even Cuter Cashier,” you tell your best friend.
“You’re abandoning the other guy already?”
“I can’t abandon someone I don’t even know,” you scoff, “and anyway, I think I like Even Cuter Cashier. Something about him…it feels like destiny.”
Soonyoung laughs at you, but you ignore him, your mind still lingering on the dark haired boy from earlier. The more you think about him, the more your heart starts to grow warm. You can’t place it, but something about Jihoon feels familiar, and you need more.
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1500s
“You are to be married to Prince Wonwoo before the solstice hits.”
Your head shoots up, staring at your father, not sure if you hear his words correctly. There’s no possible way he said that. You can think of a dozen reasons why that’s impossible, a few including: 1. You’ve never met Prince Wonwoo in your life, why would he want you as his betrothed? 2. You two did not have a courtship and it would be a scandal for you two to get married without presenting as a couple to the public first. 3. Your family is not nearly important enough to be noticed by royalty. 4. (And this is the biggest one) You are in love with someone else.
Well, your father doesn’t know that you’re in love with someone else, but it’s still an important fact to note.
Despite all of these reasons, your father continues to talk about the arrangement, not noticing the shock on your face. You wonder about how it came to be, and without you hearing even a whisper about it.
“You will be meeting with a royal advisor in two days, please do not cause any trouble.” With that your father walks ways, leaving you with a million questions brewing your mind.
The main one being: how are you going to tell Jihoon about this?
For over a year now you’ve been seeing the same man, sneaking out whenever you can to meet him. He came into town with a bang (quite literally — his caravan practically falling apart with all of his belongings crashing to the ground as it did) and you’ve been captivated by him since. 
Your days are never boring when Jihoon is around, the two of you either going on adventures or hanging out in Jihoon’s (new) caravan. Though, you think your most favorite times spent with Jihoon are late at night, when you two meet up on the outskirts of your estate grounds, right on the edge of the forest.
There never is any guessing as to what Jihoon has planned. Some days you two walk around the garden under the moonlight, talking and gazing up at the stars, while other nights you’re whisked off to another town to dance the night away in a hidden tavern. You love the guise of the night, being able to do whatever and be whoever without the fear of onlookers and their judgment. It’s just you and Jihoon in your own little world.
Maybe that’s why you’ve been keeping him a secret for so long, you like keeping him all to yourself. No one can taint your relationship if they don't know about it. Though you suppose that has backfired on you now.
You don’t see your father for the rest of the night and when the sunsets and you slip out the back door and walk down to the forest edge, you do it with a heavy heart. As always Jihoon is standing next to the tree he carved your initials in, a wide grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
As soon as he spots you approaching his face lights up in a grin. He trots up to you the rest of the way, scooping you up into a hug.
"I've missed you," he says, pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks. You giggle at his antics.
"You saw me two days ago, my dear."
"Oh but that's two days too long for an aching heart in love." 
Other people may think it's cheesy but you can't help but adore the sweet way Jihoon talks to you, always putting his poet background to good use. You smile as Jihoon holds you in his arms, but soon the good mood is ruined by the news you remember you have to break to him.
"What's wrong, my love?" Jihoon asks, seeing the fallen look on your face. He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, a habit he has picked up since you two met. 
You just sigh and shift so you're out of Jihoon's embrace. Automatically you miss his strong arms around your waist, but you can't bear to look at him as you talk.
“My father has given me away to another man,” you tell him in a hushed voice. 
“Who?” Jihoon responds automatically. “I won’t let him take you. I-I’ll fight.”
You finally turn towards Jihoon, the solemn look still firm on your face. “I’m betrothed to Prince Wonwoo.”
“Prince Wonwoo?!” Jihoon looks taken aback. You don’t blame him. Suddenly he deflates. “How am I going to beat that?”
You’re not sure how to respond. The truth is Jihoon can’t compete. That doesn’t mean you’re going to give up hope on him, though.
“We’ll…we’ll figure something out,” you finally say. You step closer to Jihoon, allowing him to wrap you up in his embrace once again.
“I’m not giving up on us,” Jihoon tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“We’ll be fine. We have to be.”
When your father told you you’d be meeting with a royal advisor, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting.
When you arrived at the castle you were amazed at the size of it, but you weren’t allowed to gawk for long, being ushered into a sitting room where two men were already conversing. Neither were your soon to be husband though and you wondered when you might actually get to meet the prince.
The two men soon introduced themselves as Soonyoung and Mingyu, two of Prince Wonwoo’s most trusted men. Now two hours later, you’re starting to question the judgment of your betrothed.
Not only are the men completely scatterbrained and disorganized, they also seem to bicker more often than not, making it difficult for you to understand everything they’re telling you. The only thing you really comprehend is that you’re going to be spending a lot more time with the two men up until the wedding.
You’re given a schedule at the end of the day, your upcoming weeks all planned out for you already. Meeting with wedding coordinators, royalty training, garment fittings, and everything else of the like. You frown, thinking about your normally free schedule has now been filled.
Luckily for you, the meeting finished earlier than expected and you don’t hesitate to direct yourself towards the area where Jihoon’s caravan resides. Your lover is delighted to see you but before he can get any words out you’re throwing yourself at him, pulling him into a kiss. You’re desperate to drown in Jihoon and forget reality even just for a moment.
It isn’t until later that you and Jihoon finally exchange words. 
“I can hear you thinking,” Jihoon says. You two lay next to each other on his bed, bare bodies pressed together under the linens. Your head rests on his chest and his hands card through your hair. “Was I not satisfactory in taking your thoughts away? What is troubling your mind so much?
“Prince Wonwoo.”
“You’re thinking about Prince Wonwoo after laying so intimately with me?”
“No! Well yes, but- I- shut up,” you grumble, smacking Jihoon’s chest, making his laugh.
You’ve never met the prince before, though you are well knowledged on him. It’s hard not to be when he is to take over the crown in a few years. You try not to think about how that will make you the queen consort.
You’ve only seen Prince Wonwoo in person a handful of times, none too recently, but you still know the prince is very handsome. Not as handsome as you find Jihoon, though you may be a bit biased. He’s also said to be kind, smart, level-headed, and well calculated. You suppose it could be worse. 
“I met with his advisors today,” you tell Jihoon. “I guess it’s just all hitting me. This really is going to happen.”
“Hey, listen to me,” Jihoon moves so he can stare at you in the face, “no matter what happens, I will always love you. My heart is still yours.”
“And mine yours,” you tell him softly. “I love you Lee Jihoon. Never forget that.”
You don’t see Jihoon for a while. Your schedule is packed with futile meetings that take up your day and with the news of your engagement to the prince (who you have still yet to meet), there are guards outside of your estate at night.
You suppose you are fortunate that Mingyu and Soonyoung have grown on you in the past few weeks. Though you still think them foolish, you also have a fondness for the pair. You see why Prince Wonwoo puts his trust in them. You find yourself wanting to confide in them, though there is one thing that still remains a secret.
It isn’t until the night before your wedding that you see your love. You are able to lose your guards for a second and you make a beeline straight to Jihoon’s caravan. He’s still awake, sitting outside and staring up at the starry sky when you approach.
“My dear,” you call out to him. Jihoon looks away from the sky to meet your face, a look of surprise flashes over his face before they form into a soft smile.
“You know you really shouldn’t be out so late at night, it is not safe.”
“Well then, why don’t you help me find some shelter kind sir,” you tell him. Jihoon just grins and grabs your hand, pulling you into his home. 
You two spent the night wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft kisses and even softer words. When the morning comes Jihoon is still asleep when you awake and while you’d love to give him a proper goodbye, you know you already pushed your luck enough spending the whole night out.
You quickly find a quill and some ink and you grab a piece of Jihoon’s writing parchment and scribble a quick note to him before slipping out the door. It’s only after the caravan is out of sight that you let your tears fall.
The first time you meet Prince Wonwoo is at the altar. Up close he’s even more handsome than you imagined, with soft facial features and kind eyes. You can’t help but still feel a bit disappointed, staring at the stranger in front of you as you recite your wedding vows.
The chapel where you are being wed is packed full of people, mostly nobility. Your attire is suffocating, despite being fitted for it thrice. Across from you, the prince keeps a neutral face and you wonder about his own involvement in this arrangement. 
He’s dressed in a formal outfit fit for royalty. The colors pair with your own dressings and you wonder what you two look like from the outfit. A newly bonded couple who will eventually be ruling the whole country. Are you two a handsome, strong presenting couple? Or do you two look like two fools who have never met before?
You were surprised at the way the public took the news of the engagement. You were expecting backlash against the prince, but he is well loved by the public and they were all happy to see the young man finding a partner to settle down with before stepping up to the throne. Despite never having been seen together in public before today, there was a wide talk of your (fake) courtship and how you must be very lucky to have the prince hold your heart.
If only they knew that a lonely, penniless poet was the real caretaker of your love.
It isn’t until the words leave the officiant’s mouth that you realize you will have to kiss the prince. Not only to end the ceremony but for the public to see you two unite as one. You must look as taken aback as you feel because your now husband takes the initiative, stepping forward to close the distance between you two.
Wonwoo cups your face gingerly, his hands are cold and his fingers are boney. He stares at you for a moment, dark eyes gazing into your soul, before he finally leans in.
The moment his lips press against yours you want to jerk out of his hold. It feels wrong. Your lips don’t fit together nicely and there’s no warmth exchanged between you two. You’re both stiff and you note how Wonwoo’s lips aren't as full as Jihoon’s. 
The kiss is over within seconds but the damage has been done and you can’t shake the dirty feeling that has grown under your skin. Wonwoo’s hand slides down your arm to clasp your fingers together. Another sign of unity for the public. You force a smile on your face, but the only thing you can think about is how your heart is miles away, in a small caravan on the edge of town.
My love,
I am not sure how you were able to convince the prince’s closest man to be a part of this, but I cannot say am I ungrateful for him. Though I do find him quite eccentric (and slightly obnoxious) I must give him my gratitude.
I miss you tremendously, but the past few letters you have sent me have been acting as bandages over my heart. I read them whenever I feel an ache of your absence, which is quite often.
It is unfortunate you find royal life boring. If I could, you know that I would sweep you off to the farthest lands where we would explore the area during the day and revel at night. I would show you the large world out there and we could experience new joys together. 
How I long to have you lay by my side at night. To feel your soft, tender skin against my fingertips. It pains me to even think about it, but it would kill me not to. 
I will never stop fighting for us.
Write back soon,
Your Jihoon
My darling,
I saw you today. I was taken quite off guard when I saw you riding in the carriage, next to Prince Wonwoo. I admit, you two make a handsome couple, but not more handsome than us.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful face in person, that even seeing you with another man made my heart sing. I couldn’t pull my eyes from you, doing my best to soak in the sight of you because you were once again gone.
You looked quite winsome sitting in the carriage, but you did not look like you. Are you required to wear such extremities every day, or were you dressed for the occasion? Either way I cannot imagine the process of getting ready to be a swift one. 
If I am being honest I do not find the purpose of such efforts. Does the prince not find your natural beauty fit to his standards? If so then off with him. Any person with eyes would be fortunate to gaze upon you. I know I was.
Seeing you has only made me yearn more for you. I know it has only been a few weeks since your matrimony to Prince Wonwoo, but to me it has been lifetimes. How I crave to feel your touch, to hear your voice, to kiss your lips.
I know that the idea is futile but I will never give up on you. No matter what, I am still yours. And I hope you are still mine. Even if I only see a glimpse of you once every decade, my heart will still burn for you.
Forever yours,
Your Jihoon
To my heart,
Though you are always in my thoughts, you have been overtaking my mind more often than not lately. Please do not think I am upset about this, it is quite the opposite, but I am afraid I have been missing you a great deal more than usual.
Maybe it is due to a conversation I had the other day. I was at a tavern, catching up with an old acquaintance who was in town, and you came up. Jeonghan questioned if there was a reason why I had settled here and wondered if it was ‘due to my heart’. I laughed and confirmed his suspicions.
We spent a deal of time after that talking about you. It felt liberating being able to speak of you to someone else. I must have rambled on for at least an hour before Jeonghan finally cut me off, telling me how lucky I must be to have someone like you in my life. I had no choice other than to agree with him.
Speaking about you and thinking about you has thrown me into a tumultuous frame of mind. It is quite shameful how often I get lost in fantasies of us and what I wish we could be. You have overtaken my mind, body, and soul. There is not a single night where I do not dream of you.
I hope our future king can see how fortunate he is to be married to you. I would kill thousands of men to be in his position. Your smile itself is worth more than every jewel on his crown. I know I am just waxing poetic at you, but that is my job.
I know we must stay apart, but please mourn the future we could have had for me. Please write back to me with every thought you have about our imaginary future, because even if I cannot have the real thing, my dreams will be enough for me.
Dream of me as well,
Your Jihoon 
The life between you and your husband is…comfortable. You two talk, but not often and seldom about anything that is not shallow or mundane. You two sleep side by side at night but the last time you two touched each other was when you danced at your wedding and while his days are spent in meeting, yours are spent wandering the castle grounds and having tea with Soonyoung and Mingyu.
The only thing you find yourself looking forward to in your days anymore is the nightly lettering that you receive from Jihoon. It was only a week into the marriage when Soonyoung noticed how miserable you were. Without being able to hold it in anymore, you told the man about your lover and your heartbreak. It was then that Soonyoung suggested he help you out, acting as a carriage pigeon to deliver letters to and from Jihoon.
One night you are sitting at the desk in your shared chambers with Wonwoo, writing your letter for Jihoon, when Wonwoo speaks up. He is sitting on the bed across the room and his deep voice startles you, not used to talking to the man like this.
“Are you happy?” Wonwoo asks you bluntly, after calling out your name. You take only a moment to form an answer.
“I am content, my lord,” you tell him. Though you have stopped referring to the man as “Prince Wonwoo” in your mind, you cannot help but tack on the formal titles at the end of your sentences to the man.
“But you are not happy. Why?”
“Rest assured your highness, it is nothing you’ve done.”
“Does it have anything to do with the letters Soonyoung delivers to you each evening? The letters you are writing back right now?” You freeze in your seat. You were unaware he knew, but the prince is not ignorant. You suppose you couldn’t keep it a secret forever.
“I-”
“Do not mistake my curiosity for accusation. I’m aware this arrangement is not an ideal situation, and I would not be upset if there was another. I would not even be upset if you wish to be with him,” Wonwoo says. 
His words trouble you. There is a benefit for both of you in the marriage, but his words imply he is not exactly happy with the arrangement either. The offer to let you leave him is strange though, and causes you to fault for a moment.
“I am not going to abandon you, sire,” you eventually respond. “I have made an obligation to you.”
“No, your father did. Though we are not well acquainted I still hold empathy and I do not want to be what is keeping you from your happiness. From your happy ending.”
“Either way my father’s word is say, so I will do what he asks of me. It is an honor to be wedded to a man of your status,” you tell him, trying to convince yourself more than anything.
“But that is all it is: status. What about love?”
You don’t answer. You sit there and stare down at the letter you are writing to Jihoon. You think about the wooden box hidden in the drawer that holds his letters.
“Please, I do not wish to cause you turmoil. If you want to go, I will not hold you back,” Wonwoo says. 
You finally turn to look at your husband. “You are very kind-hearted, but I cannot accept that offer. I will not tarnish your reputation like that. Do you know the talk that would rise if they heard the soon-to-be king’s spouse up and left? What would your father do to mine? It is too risky.”
Wonwoo has a morose look on his face, like he knows you’re right. “Tell me about him,” he says, surprising you.
You hesitate. You should not talk of your lover to your husband. It is unorthodox and unbecoming. You look at Wonwoo’s curious face though, and you can’t help yourself.
“He’s a poet. I’ve never met someone who can use words the way he does. Even in things as simple as short letters or passing comments, he can make it sound like the most romantic sentence ever uttered,” you tell Wonwoo.
“Tell me more.”
“He has a kind soul, like you. He’s very exciting to be around. He used to travel the world, so I love to hear him regale the tales of his adventures. He likes to take me on our own little adventures as well. One time a traveling show came through a neighboring town and he got us tickets to go watch.”
“You love him greatly.” It is not a question. You just nod to Wonwoo. “You light up when you speak of him. In a way I’ve never seen before.”
You don’t know what to say to him, so you turn your back to him once more, resuming your letter to Jihoon.
You love Jihoon, everyday apart from him feels like you’re struggling to breathe, and under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have stopped at anything to be with him, but you are not under those circumstances. You fought your father, refusing the marriage, even telling him you loved someone else, but he did not listen. He told you this was the one thing he would put his foot down on.
You can’t blame him, how often does someone get the chance to marry a prince. The things this marriage is doing for your family is immeasurable and you cannot in good conscience leave them without a second thought. Not to mention the damage it would do to your family’s reputation, let alone Wonwoo’s. Your family would be shunned by the public and Wonwoo would be labeled a joke of a king.
Not to mention if it was ever discovered what really happened. What would happen if everyone found out why you left? You and Jihoon would surely be ostracized. Town piranhas in even towns in other kingdoms. Jihoon’s career as a poet would be over. You can’t imagine that being a happy life.
Not that you’re particularly happy right now either. You wish you didn’t overthink everything, or else you would have left the town even before you got married. You and Jihoon could be living in his caravan, just you two alone, safe and sound and happy.
It is too late for that though, and now you have to pay the consequences. Married to a man you know nothing about. A man who seems to be rooting for you despite the outcome. It makes you frown. Maybe your first step in figuring it all out is figuring out your husband first.
“Have you ever been in love, my lord?” You decide to ask Wonwoo one day while walking the castle’s grounds. As of recently you two have gotten closer, an interesting bond forming between you two, though most of your time is spent talking of Jihoon. Wonwoo never draws back on his suggestions that you follow your heart. 
“Not in the way you are. I was very fond of someone a long time ago, but they loved someone else.” You frown at this news. 
“Please excuse the crudeness of my words, sire, but then why do you put so much mind into my love? Do you not wish to be wed to someone?”
“I do,” Wonwoo answers after a moment of contemplation, “but I do not want to be the reason why true love is separated. You and your Jihoon, you are a story of fate. Who am I to get in the middle of it? The public likes me enough, I will be okay. No matter what, I will be okay, but will you?”
Your heart aches and yearns for Jihoon, and your husband is not making it easier. That may have been his goal though.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask Wonwoo. You frown as you stand in front of him, your stomach in knots of worry.
Wonwoo just gives you a soft smile. “I am sure. If anything, I should be worrying about you. Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. Both Soonyoung and I checked twice. You have ensured that everything will run perfectly.” You reach over and take your husband’s hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you, Wonwoo. For everything.”
“Ah, it is the least I could do. Now, you have somewhere to be and I cannot keep you waiting any longer. Send me letters, okay?” With a final squeeze of your hands, Wonwoo lets you go. You smile at the man once more before turning away from him and not looking back.
You slip out of the castle through the servant’s doors and quickly make your way to the outskirts of the grounds. It reminds you of all those times you escaped your own house to meet Jihoon at the edge of the forest. The thought makes a grin grow on your face as you speed up your pace even more.
Just like all the previous times, when you get to the edge of the estate Jihoon is standing there waiting for you. You launch yourself into his arms, allowing him to pick you up and twirl you around. He’s giggling high pitched and gleeful as you two spin around in each other’s arms.
When Jihoon finally puts you down he doesn’t waste a moment and leans in to kiss you. You happily kiss him back, grabbing his face and holding him in place. You can feel a wet stream of tears run down your face, your heart bursting with joy as you reunite with your lover.
His lips are familiar against yours and you automatically feel at home. For the first time in months you can relax, finally back in Jihoon’s arms.
“It’s you,” Jihoon muttres when he finally pulls away. He brings his hands up to caress your face.
“It’s me, my love, it’s me,” you tell him back, tears still flowing freely.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you more.” You lean in and press another quick kiss against Jihoon’s lips. “But we will never have to miss each other again.”
“I’m never letting you go,” Jihoon tells you, gripping you tighter. “Oh how much I love you.”
You giggle. “I love you more. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”
You grab Jihoon’s hand and pull him away from the grounds to where his caravan is waiting for you two. As you two travel further and further away from the town you feel your heart grow lighter and lighter, excited for the rest of your life of adventures with your love.
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The next time you see Jihoon is nearly a week later. You and Soonyoung are once again getting boba when you spot the boy behind the counter, just like last time. When you and Soonyoung went and got boba a few days prior you noticed that the original Cute Cashier was working, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at him not being Jihoon.
As soon as you lay eyes on your Even Cuter Cashier, you quickly make a beeline into the shop, your desire for boba long gone.
Jihoon looks up when he hears the sound of the bell ringing and his eyes soften into a smile when he sees you entering through the threshold.
“You came back!”
“I did. It’s hard not to, with the amazing service I got last time,” you say. You casually browse the store as you talk to Jihoon, glancing at him every so often as you do. 
“Well I’m glad that my plan to get you to come back succeeded.”
You giggle at Jihoon’s words as you stop in front of a stack of old photos. You flip through them, looking at all the memories they hold. Many of the photos depict different couples, all smiling brightly as they hold each other. The images put a smile on your own face.
“Find something good?” Jihoon asks and you jump a bit at the closeness of his voice. When you turn, you see the man standing by your side.
“Oh, yeah, just these photos! Aren’t they beautiful?” You tilt them a bit to show them off to Jihoon. “I think it’s so amazing that no matter how the world changes, love will always stay the same.”
“Huh, I guess you’re right. Love’s been around since the beginning of time.”
“The love these people were feeling in these photos is the same love we experience today. There really is nothing like it.”
You look back down at the photos. The one in your hand shows a woman clinging onto a man’s arm, her cheek pressed into his bicep as she smiles at the camera. The man himself is smiling as well, though he is smiling down at the woman, rather than the camera. 
“They’re cute,” Jihoon mumbles, his own eyes transfixed on the photo. 
“Yeah,” you say, “I wonder what’s their story.”
“Something happy, I hope,” Jihoon says before moving to walk back behind the counter. You grab a few more photos from the stack before following after him, placing them on the counter.
Jihoon smiles at you and starts to ring you up. You take a moment to stare at him, your eyes tracing over his fluffy hair and round face and kind smile. You don’t stop staring until Jihoon breaks your focus.
“What? Does my hair look stupid or something?” He grins lazily at you again and you feel your heartbeat quicken.
“Uh, n-no! It’s just…your smile is super familiar to me. Sorry, that may be weird.”
“No, no, it’s not. I guess I kinda felt the same thing the first time you came in,” Jihoon tells you. “Who knows, maybe we knew each other in a past life.”
You chuckle at Jihoon’s joke, but you don’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
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1951
War Against North Korea Rages On, No End in Sight
You frown at the heading, throwing the newspaper aside onto the counter. The news of the North Korean troops invading Seoul changed everyone’s lives, throwing the country into a state of chaos trying to keep them from completely overtaking all of South Korea. Now a year later, the war is still in full force and though you know it’s important to stay updated on what’s happening, you don’t bother with the news articles anymore. They always say more or less the same thing: the war continues on with more casualties and less hope of ending soon.
Your heart grows heavy with each day growing worse than the last. You wish there was more you could do to help the war efforts, but you’re stuck at home taking care of your sick father. He’s the only family you have left, after your mother’s death a few years ago. All of the money received from her passing has gone into your father, but since the start of the war prices have done nothing but skyrocket.
So you spend your days at home taking care of your father, and your nights in a factory working to earn an income. You don’t mind the work though, allowing your mind to focus on something that isn’t the war or your father.
The only other time you get a break, an actual real break, is on Saturdays. It’s the one day in the week you allow yourself to go out, spending the afternoon to yourself getting groceries and taking time to focus on yourself.
You go through the same routine, walking down to the port and spending a few minutes enjoying the waves lapping against the shore, the salty sea water scent filling the air as the summer breeze brushes up against your skin. After taking in the sight of the sea, you move further into town and down the street to the cemetery.
Every Saturday you visit your mother’s grave, sitting with her for a while as you update her on your life and the current events. Occasionally you will bring a book and read aloud. You find the time spent with her calming, her maternal love enveloping you and letting you rest, even for a small bit of time.
Afterwards you browse the shops in town (only looking, never buying) before heading to the market to finish your day off. You spend the money for the groceries to get you through the week before heading back home. You do your best to walk most places you go, not wanting to spend the fare for the trollies. 
The streets are busy on the weekend and on your walk back to your house, someone bumps into you causing you to drop your bags, all of your freshly bought groceries tumbling to the ground. The person doesn’t even stop and you can’t bother chasing them too. You just sigh and bend down to pick up the now unusable goods. 
You now have to turn around and go back into town to get more groceries. It will take a good chunk out of your funds, but not too much. Maybe you’ll pick up a few more shifts at the factory.
“Excuse me, are you okay?” As you’re thinking about how to make up the price of the ruined groceries, you miss the man who has walked up to you.
When you look up you see a beautiful man with a sweet round face and dark hair staring down at you. He’s dressed nicely in a suit and it takes you a moment to actually respond to him, too distracted by his good looks.
“Pardon?”
“I was asking if you were okay?” The man bends down to help you pick up the rest of the food spilled on the ground. “I saw that man bump into you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh! I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, appreciative of the kind gesture.
“But all of your groceries are now ruined. Allow me to buy you more.”
“Oh no! That’s not necessary,” you quickly tell the man. You don’t even know him and you would feel guilty allowing a man who didn’t even cause the casualty to pay for your groceries, especially with the state of the economy.
“I insist,” he says, standing and then helping you stand as well. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Sir it really-” Before you can even finish your sentence the man was walking away, back towards the town. You could just go back home, but then you’d be left with no groceries for the week so you begrudgingly follow him back to the market.
“Lee Jihoon, by the way,” he tells you as you two walk around the market, collecting what you need. You give him your name as well and he grins, a small spark igniting behind his eyes as he tells you how lovely your name is.
When you’re done regathering what you need you move to head to the register, but Jihoon stops you.
“This is all you’re getting? It’s barely enough for any proper meals. Please, add more. I won’t mind, I demand of it actually.” Jihoon then moves to add more to the basket and once again you have to follow along as Jihoon is the one carrying it.
You protest each time a new item is added but Jihoon keeps hushing you like you’re a life long friend rather than a stranger he met on the street no more than thirty minutes ago. By the time Jihoon is satisfied with what’s in your basket, it’s full to the top and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much food in your life. Guilt eats away at you as you think about the money Jihoon is about to drop on you just because someone else made you drop your bags.
It isn’t until you’re checking out and Jihoon casually pulls out multiple banknotes without even a blink of an eye that you realize that not everyone lives like you and that just maybe Jihoon doesn’t mind paying so much because he has the money laying around to do so. Even back when your mother was alive and your father was able to work your family was still paying for everything with scraped up coins.
The sun is already low in the sky by the time you two exit the market and Jihoon stops you once more. “Allow my driver to take you back to your house.”
The sentence alone confirms your suspicions on Jihoon’s monetary status. To own a car is a luxury of its own, but to have a driver as well seals the deal.
You already can tell it’s impossible to turn Jihoon down so you just follow him back to his car. You wonder if his driver followed you after you two walked to the market. When you two get into the car you tell your address to the driver, trying not to get embarrassed at the thought of the nice car driving through your run down little neighborhood. 
Jihoon’s driver just nods and starts up the car. The three of you sit in silence until the car pulls up to your house and you climb out. Jihoon does as well, helping carry your groceries to the door.
“It was nice meeting you,” Jihoon says. “If you ever need anything again, give me a call.” He holds out a small white card, his business card, to you. You take it and thank him once more before entering your house, your mind still lingering on the strange, rich man.
You don’t give Jihoon a call, but you don’t have to. You run into him again not even three days after your first interaction. It’s early in the morning and you’re heading back home after work when you hear your name called out. When you turn you see the man’s car rolling up next to you, his head poking out of the back seat window.
“What are you doing walking alone so early in the morning? The sun has barely started to rise.”
"I'm walking back home from work," you answer honestly.
Jihoon's face looks sour at this, like he couldn't imagine working so late at night. "If you have been working all night let me treat you to breakfast."
It's your turn to let your face screw up slightly. You know that Jihoon can afford to buy you breakfast, but you still don't want to feel indebted to him. Not to mention your father will be waking up soon and you'll need to make his breakfast as well. You tell Jihoon as much.
"Then I will buy breakfast for your father too," is his solution.
You're not sure why he keeps insisting on buying you things but you just sigh and climb into the car. Jihoon has a smug grin on his face as he tells his driver where to go.
A few minutes later the car pulls up in front of a diner and you and Jihoon enter. It's nothing extravagant, but still a treat for those with a tight budget. 
The two of you sit in silence until a waitress comes and takes your order. Jihoon doesn't allow you to order for yourself, picking what he tells you are the most delicious and filling items. He orders for himself and then a third meal, asking the waitress to not cook it until she brings the check.
You note the way Jihoon has a nice presence to him, friendly and warm and inviting. The way his soft features are accentuated when he smiles, his round cheeks puffing up and his eyes squinting. You find him fascinating, but there's something more than that, something drawing you to him.
"So, where do you work that has you walking home at six in the morning?" 
The question breaks the ice between you as you fall into a natural conversation, asking questions and trading answers. Your hesitations towards the man quickly ebb the more you talk.
You learn he's a highly successful businessman but the war has halted much of his work which has given him some much needed down time. Like you, he doesn't have many living family members and he's an altruistic man so much of his money is left unspent.
Before you know it both of your meals are finished and the waitress is bringing over the check and the packaged meal for your father. Just like at the market, Jihoon pulls out his banknotes and pays before escorting you back to his car.
When you arrive at your house a part of you feels disappointed that the morning with Jihoon is over. Now it's back to the real world. 
You're halfway to your door when you suddenly turn back around. You don't know what causes you to say it before you can stop yourself you spit out, "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It's the last I could do after all of your kindness." 
Jihoon beams in front of you. "I would love that."
Bloodiest Battles of the War So Far, Conscription Soon to Follow?
Five months after you meet Jihoon he knocks on your front door, a letter clutched in his fist. There's a grim look on his face when you open the door and you know automatically.
The Battle of Bloody Ridge, follwoed by The Battle of Heartbreak Ridge, took out many of the soldiers on the frontlines and the country was now desperate to find new ones to replace them. A mandatory conscription for any young man who was eligible to join the military.
It didn't take long for you and Jihoon to start a relationship after your first few meetings. He's the perfect man, taking care of both you and your father and showering you in nothing but love and affection. The thought of him so far away, in the direct line of danger, makes a lump grow in your throat. Your chest tightens as your heart aches.
"We'll be okay," Jihoon mutters into your hair as you cry silently into his neck, holding him tightly. Like if you hold him tight enough he won't have to leave.
That's not how the world works though, and you accompany Jihoon on the day he is to deploy.
"If you need more money just send me a letter and I'll take care of it, okay?"
"You've left me with plenty already, love," you tell him as you fix his jacket collar. "Just come home safe."
"As long as you make sure I have something to come home to."
You can already feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you lean forward to press your lips to Jihoon's. He kisses you back, putting all of his love into it. A promise to you, that you will see him again, that this isn't your last kiss.
With one last squeeze of the hand Jihoon boards the bus and you're left alone, a heaviness in your heart and worry forming under your skin.
You just have to keep telling yourself he'll be okay, he has to be.
December 19, 1951
To the one my heart has gone to,
I hope you don't mind the frequency of my letters, I just feel closer to you know that eventually you'll hold the same paper in your fingers. I miss you tremendously, to the point my heart aches thinking of you.
Do you know that when you send your letters they smell of you? I always keep your most recent ones safe, in hopes to preserve the smell for just a little while longer.
There's not much to report about today, which I suppose is a good thing. Better than something hectic or even worse, a battle. 
Unfortunately it still doesn't look like there will be a break anytime soon. Battle after battle, life after life. It's not easy, but I've come to like the other men in my unit. Jeonghan takes good of us and Seokmin makes nice company. 
I don't want to keep you long, but I wanted to make sure you'd get a letter for before the holidays hit. Merry Christmas my love.
I'll make it up to you when I get home okay? For now just keep me in your dreams.
Write back soon, please. I want to hear what my lover has been up to. Keep me updated on your father as well.
All my love,
Your Jihoon
March 22, 1952
Today was hard.
I'm doing unwell as I write this letter, but it would pain me more not to send you my update.
Kwon Soonyoung died next to me today on the battlefield. It is not the first time a man has died near me, but it is the first time it was a man I have grown fond of. He was only a few months older than I am.
As grim as it may sound, and as much as I will mourn the loss, I am grateful that it was not me in his place. It was a difference of mere inches and fate chose Soonyoung. Does it mean anything? Is there a reason why I lived and he didn’t? I’m not sure but all I can think about is that his sacrifice is giving me a second chance at going home. Does that make me a bad person?
Everyday I pray this nightmare will be over. The thought of you is the only thing encouraging me to go on. I think about coming home to you, kissing your sweet lips, holding you in my arms.
We’ve been apart longer than we were together and I beat myself up for that everyday. I wish we would have met earlier, but as soon as the war is over we will have all the time in the world. Just you and me.
Wish me home soon,
Your Jihoon
November 30, 1952
To the home of my heart,
You have been on my mind all of today, not that you aren’t always on my mind normally. It has been particularly hard today though. It’s been a full year since my departure from you and every day has been harder than the last.
It’s hard to sleep at night and I often lay awake and think about you. Sometimes I will take a walk and look up at the sky. The moon and the stars are thousands of miles away but they still seem so close and bring so much comfort. That’s how I feel about you. Gazing at the moon also helps because it is still the same moon that you are under as well.
Look at the moon and think of me okay? Maybe one night we will be looking at the moon at the same time and I will be able to feel you just a bit closer.
Whenever I am able to fall asleep, I dream about you. I dream about the thought of you laying next to me. I wish to kiss your soft lips and feel your warm skin and look into your shining eyes. I dream of the life we will build together when we are reunited at last.
Would you marry me, my love?
I know it’s silly asking over a letter like this, and asking with such a strange courtship, but something in me feels the need to ask. Ever since I met you on the street that one fateful day, I’ve known you were the one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so please accept my proposal (I promise to give you a proper one the second I get home).
The other men keep teasing me about you, but they just don’t understand the love we share. Being with you, even just the thought of you, it feels like home.
A part of me wonders if I’ve secretly loved you my whole life. It sure feels like it. No matter what I know you were made for me and everyday I bless whatever force brought us together. I love you so much it drives me crazy.
When I get home let me take you out on a thousand dates to make up for the time lost. 
Please send me your answer soon,
Your fiance Jihoon
February 01, 1953
To my dearest,
I’m writing to you from the infirmary. I was shot in battle earlier, nowhere too fatal just the leg, but I just woke up from the procedure to remove the bullet and patch me up. I’m lucky to come out with nothing more than a scar. Some other men aren’t as lucky.
It seems everyday is a new fight, but it’s worth it if it gives me a chance of going back home to you. We’ll buy a house close to the port, so you can be near the ocean breeze. Every night we’ll walk the shore and watch the sunset together. Then on Saturdays I’ll accompany you on your errands. We’ll go to town together and get groceries and visit the cafe and do whatever your heart desires. 
I’ll buy fresh flowers for your parents every week.
We could get a cat to keep you company while I’m at work and you could quit that heinous job at the factory. That would give you more time to focus on yourself. You and I both know that my wealth is more than enough for just the two of us.
Our house shouldn’t be too big, but still a good size in case we ever have guests over. I think we should start a garden as well.
Ah, my love, thinking about our future is nice. It helps me wish for the future, helps me feel closer to you. Thank you for being my safe place away from this nightmare. I should rest more now, but please remember that I will always spend everyday loving you.
Pray for my speedy recovery,
Your Jihoon
July 07, 1953
Jagiya! I apologize for the lack of letters recently, things have been so hectic around here, but I write with good news!
The talk around camp is that the negotiations have been making a move, there is finally an end in sight. I cannot wait to get back to you. It has been far too long since I’ve seen you and the photo I carry of you has started to fade already from how often I admire it. 
I cannot stay to write for long, but I needed to send you an update and a reminder of my love. I promise we will be back together soon.
Go to town and buy some flowers for yourself okay? Today is worth celebrating.
I can’t wait to see you,
Your Jihoon
You’re jittery as you smooth down your shirt, waiting for the bus to pull up. The same bus that took him away nearly two years ago.
When all of your friends heard about your beau, they all called you crazy. Holding out for a man who has been gone for quadruple the amount of time you spent together and you guess maybe it is crazy, but for Jihoon you would do anything.
It is true that you two were only together for five months before his deployment, but even before he left you knew you were madly in love with Lee Jihoon. You spent your nights reading the letters Jihoon sent you, and writing ones back. You would think you two had been lovers for fifty years rather than five months.
You’ve always felt the pull towards Jihoon though, like you’ve been loving him all your life. Every letter he sent made you fall in love with him even more, and now two years later he’s finally coming home. 
The days were hard without him when you saw him nearly everyday before he left. Winter of 1952 was less than kind, taking your father with it and leaving you alone for the last seven months, wishing for nothing but for Jihoon to come home. Now he is and you couldn’t be more elated.
The people standing around you start to cheer when someone catches sight of the bus, but you can’t do anything but stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. When the bus stops and soldiers start to pour out you have a moment of doubt. The fear that Jihoon won’t want you anymore, that everything has changed for the worse, creeps into your mind.
The thoughts can barely form though because then Jihoon’s stepping off the bus and his skin is so much tanner than it used to be and you’ve never seen him with his hair so short but it’s Jihoon, your Jihoon. His eyes light up when he catches sight of your familiar face and he’s dropping his bags and running towards you.
His arms are locked around your waist and you’re being lifted off the ground. You cup Jihoon’s face in your hands and lean down to kiss him as he spins you two around, easing all of the worries in your mind. Your cheeks dampen as tears start to stream down your face, too many emotions coursing through you to keep them all on the inside.
You keep your hands on Jihoon’s face as he sets you down. You stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your touch. “You’re here, you’re really here.”
“I’m here my love, I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again.”
It doesn’t take much longer for you and Jihoon to leave the station. You two sit in the back of his car, pressed together as Jihoon presses kisses to your face every few minutes. You’re not much better though, leaning into him with a dopey grin on your face, ready to start your new life with the man you love the most.
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The next time you see Jihoon isn’t at the antique shop at all. You’re getting coffee at the cafe next to your apartment when you see the man walk in. His eyes light up a bit when he sees you and he makes a beeline to your table after getting his drink.
“Is this seat open?” He asks, pointing to the empty chair across from you.
“Of course.”
Jihoon takes a seat before turning his attention to you. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” you say teasingly but Jihoon just grins.
“Maybe it is,” his voice is smooth as he talks, and your breath gets caught in your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if I was destined to meet you over and over again.”
You break his gaze, trying not to show him how flustered you are. “You’re quite the sweet talker you know? You don’t know anything about me-”
“No, but I don’t think it would be hard to learn. I’m starting to think we’re not really strangers at all. You can’t tell me that you aren’t a bit interested in me as well.”
You glance back at Jihoon to find him staring intently at him. His eyes are warm and deep and you can feel yourself being drawn in, like you’ve stared at those eyes a million times before. There’s an inviting sense to all of Jihoon and the only thing you can think of to describe it as is home. 
“Okay,” you tell him with a slight grin. “Let’s see if destiny is right.”
And really you don’t care if it is fate or not, because as you and Jihoon fall into a comfortable conversation you realize that the two of you meeting was no mistake, and that you could definitely love Lee Jihoon for multiple lifetimes. 
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nicherayyy · 7 months
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Different anon, but what about bucci gang with a child! South Park! Reader? Abbachio gonna need a lot of wine.
literally Abbachio's personal hell
TW: average South Park experience
Bucci Gang x South Park! Child Reader
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Okay so we already know how La Squadra would react
But Bucci Gang? Ohhh, another story
Bless Bruno's heart to be honest
He tries his best just to not lose his shit around you
He's managing
Well, somehow
Bruno just wants you to have a normal childhood :(
And your stories back from South Park
Let's just say he wasn't impressed
More like concerned about your mental health
A cuss word is a big no in this house
(Well, unless Bruno can't hear you)
Your cussing problem is his second biggest issue with you
"SHIT"
"LANGUAGE"
But he's patient with you. As much as he can be.
But Leone is not that patient
First it was type of "why would we take another child into the team" shock, then it was "how are you still alive" shock
Tries to avoid you at some point
Just no. Not today.
Is not impressed with your stories back from South Park either
And how randomly you just say that
Plus your sassiness
He hates it.
Tried to be closer to you especially because Bruno asked him but he just can't manage, for now at least
But it's not like you don't have your special bonding moments
Leone even laughed at your joke once
You're still proud about it
Giorno, just like Bruno, is concerned about your mental health
He knows how some bad treatment can influence a kid
So he really wants to dig deep into your behaviour
It's just no way a kid can be this feral
Talks with you a lot
He just likes to hear your opinion about stuff (even if you find that stuff boring)
"What do you think is a goal of humanity?"
"Ending this stupid philosophy quiz. Seriously dude, I just woke up"
Mista thinks you're hilarious
The way you're behaving is just so funny to him
And of course you get along well
Just don't tell Bruno that he cusses around you sometimes
Likes to hang out with you a lot
Movie nights, car rides, you name it
He enjoys your company that much
His little buddy in crime
He'll get you matching shirts
Fugo can't stand you
Everyone just tries to keep him as far as it's possible from you
They just know better.
And they know the price they will pay if they let you two in the same room
His anger issues is just too much to handle you
Maybe you could find the common ground someday, who knows
Narancia is your other buddy
Of course you sometimes scare him
But meh, he can handle it
Of course he thinks that most of your stories from your life in South Park is a joke
Cause there's just no way that someone would make your friend a part of a human centipede just because he didn't read the rules of usage on his phone
"Oh my god, your imagination don't have limits"
"Imagination???"
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The First Fairy Tale
ahdbalidbaidf I'M SUCH A SUCKER FOR UNREQUITED KNIGHT X PRINCESS STUFF (even if it's not clear whether or not Lilia's crush persisted beyond childhood in canon) SO. I'M WRITING THIS… 😭This fic is purposefully ambiguous about the type of love Lilia feels in the end for Meleanor. It’s up to the reader to interpret it as they please. This piece was inspired the story of Madame Red from Black Butler. You don't need to know either to enjoy, but if you do happen to know them then I think you'll appreciate it more. There’s also some references to a few Disney films besides Sleeping Beauty—can you find which ones? I also purposefully repeated some phrases and blended a few references together to give the fic a “dream-like”/deja vu feeling. There was going to be a wedding scene opening with “There wasn’t a cloud in the sky” in reference to We Don’t Talk About Bruno, but I had to cut that since the fic was getting long. Even without that and some other cut scenes, I think this is the longest fic I’ve written before. It’s almost 8k words!!
... Do you remember? I told my first fairy tale to you, my most beloved. ***Spoilers for book 7 part 5 of the main story!***
Imagine this...
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In a castle forgotten by time, a lone figure walked among the creeping thorns. The plants swallowed the grounds, yet he moved swiftly and stealthily, passing over briar as easily as water over stone. Not a single movement was wasted as he traversed the brambled floors.
His ponytail—black streaked with red—fell in his path, the slight whip of it the only trace of his presence. He had traded his battle armor of old for plainclothes long ago, but still hadn’t filled into them yet. To shed the life of a general for that of a civilian was no simple task.
The small, doughy creature pressed against his shoulder sleepily lifted its head. Upon the infant’s crown was a cap of shockingly silver hair, the same color as moonlight. The boy thrusted a pudgy hand into his cheek, delivering a soft pap to the hardened veteran.
“Tch…!” Lilia pulled away brusquely. “Troublesome little creature, aren’t you? Hold still. We’d have made it out of here by now if only you weren’t so…”
Weak, defenseless, frail, vulnerable.
An array of potential words rose to fill in the gap. He settled on the least abrasive one he could muster.
Something cute.
Children like cute, right…? Right.
“… squishy.”
The infant—no, Silver, he corrected himself—seemed curious about the response, staring up with sudden interest. Lilia’s skin prickled at the sensation. He averted his eyes to an interior that had seen better days.
Once a shining jewel to house the crown princess, Wild Rose Castle was abandoned now. The thorns had invaded, climbing the walls and digging themselves into every nook and crevice. Furniture and weapons devoured, flags and tapestries consumed, meeting a similar fate as the nation that had once proudly flew them.
Ruins entombing stolen time.
What had once been a palace teeming with history, with life, was left a barren wasteland. All that remained were shadows of the past which clung thickly to the thorns. One misstep, and they would cut into him, bringing both pain and searing hot memories.
Funny, that: how the natural forces were unrelenting and indiscriminate. Yet the trace of an enchantment in the air suggested otherwise, its telltale tingle palpable. He knew the bramble had come from magical means.
A fairy's spell lingered. Some bygone blessing or curse, told in the tattered remains of a hazy vision and a wish for more halcyon days. Parents wanting to spare their child from the horrors of war.
Lilia's grip on Silver subconsciously tightened.
What rotten luck. I return after all this time to pay my respects, only to find Wild Rose Castle in this sorry state. How the mighty fall.
Silver fidgeted in his arms, as if sensing that something was off. A bit of saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth, a soft whine gurgling up.
“You’re fussing again already?” Lilia frowned. He awkwardly laid a hand on the infant’s back. Are all infants this incorrigible? "The journey will be a long one if you aren't able to settle."
The infant turned its head, his cheek fitting neatly into Lilia's palm. There was a coo, then a sigh of contentment.
Still shaking off the sleepiness.
"... You're so needy," Lilia grumbled, noting the drool wetting his skin. Silver blinked at him with large, iridescent orbs. "I don't understand. Do people actually find this endearing? To find such joy in raising their young is..."
He hesitated to finish his sentence.
What did a man like him have to say on the matter? Long-lived as he was, that kind of love was something he had ever experienced for himself.
A gentle, warm hand to guide him through the darkness. The love of a parent.
Yet here I am, a loveless fae robbing a baby from its cradle. Just as the humans believe we do.
What irony.
Sadness nipped at Lilia as his thoughts turned to Silver. If anything, the little one had more power to shape the world around it than he ever could.
It was for this sort of creature that the Dawn Knight made a prayer for the future. It was for this sort of creature that Baul's rigid heart shifted. It was for this sort of creature that she...!!
Lilia's fingers had clenched into a vice grip on Silver. The infant cried out, squirming uncomfortably in his new guardian's grasp.
"Shoot...!! Er... there, there. It will be alright."
He clumsily rocked the baby back and forth. It was too vigorous, for Silver bursted into tears. His wails echoed off the desolate walls of the castle, piercing loud in Lilia's ears.
The fae jerked back, holding Silver at a safe distance from him. His grasp, precarious.
This is proving to be much more challenging than I initially thought... H-How do I silence it?!
Lilia glanced around helplessly at his surroundings. Everything was encased in a cage of thorns: antiques, drapes, even the axes mounted for decoration—to liven up the room. They were impossible for him to reach, else he could swing them around to amuse the boy.
Pieces of the past far out of his reach.
It’s not an option. A human babe is not like a fae babe. Lilia’s head swarmed with stress, Silver’s sobs only multiplying his worries. What do I do? What… would she do?
Meleanor…
The name of his princess emerged. Along with it, a scene blossoming in sepia shades.
Her, in a regal black gown and dripping in green gemstones and finery. Him, in a general's armor. A princess and her knight, straight out of a fairy tale.
She was humming while caressing a large egg, a marbled violet flecked with green, dark webbing laced the shell. It conformed perfectly to her chest, pulsating with a strange warmth as she ran taloned fingers over it. Another role she had adopted: mother.
A low chuckle rose from the back of her throat. "Fufufu Look, Malleus. Our dear Lilia has taken the time out of his busy schedule to come pay us a visit."
"It's been quite some time since I last heard you giggle like a schoolgirl. Nice to know that you remain in good spirits." He arched an eyebrow. "... But since when did you decide to name the child? I thought the medical mages hadn't even determined a gender for your heir yet."
"Oh, some time ago," she replied flippantly. Meleanor was always like a storm, unpredictable and acting on her own whims. "I don't need anyone to tell me what my child will be. I already know... my Malleus will grow up to be an upstanding, beautiful man just like my Levan."
She had a dreamy, faraway look on her face. A slight blush to her high cheeks, a shine to her eyes, a kind smile at her lips. Completely unlike her, the tomboy who snuck out of the castle unsupervised and caused trouble for all the servants.
So utterly smitten.
For that moment and that moment alone, Lilia would have believed her a patient princess awaiting a knight in shining armor's rescue. Not him, but her beloved.
Levan.
He had to bite back a terse laugh, mask it with a joke. "Your Levan? Hold on now, you've got to share him with the rest of us. We'd simply crumble without his wisdom."
"I don't intend to share what's rightfully mine.” A teasing smirk he knew well had found its way onto her pert mouth again. “I'm a very possessive woman.”
"As I’m well aware. Alas, I serve such a cruel mistress of evil.”
She chuckled, resting a hand on her egg. "... When Levan returns, we shall arrange for tea. The two of you can regale me with the stories of your journeys. It gets to be so dull trapped in these castle walls. Oh, and of course, Malleus will be joining us. He has yet to experience our cozy little get-togethers.”
Their group. Their trio. The three of them. And now a new member. An expansion of the family unit—no, rather, the realization that something didn’t belong among them.
His heartbeat quickened.
"There you go again, making rash requests of me. You really ought to be more considerate of others. I came all this way out of the goodness of my heart, only for you to bark more orders at me. Don't I get to take a break?"
"I am being considerate," she insisted. "I'm considering Malleus. He is invited. You cannot uninvite him."
"That's not the point. Agh, what am I going to do with you?" Lilia ran a hand through his hair. The frustration was familiar—but so was the fondness that chased it.
“My, my. Such insolence. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me for a long, looong time. You should be less stubborn and more kind to your princess,” she purred, her words touched with dry sarcasm. “Isn’t that right, Malleus?”
“I’m too kind to you. Too patient as well,” Lilia sighed. “… It’s you who is headstrong.”
“I must be. I have a country and now a family behind me. A scorned mother’s rage is insurmountable, you know.”
He should have said something back. Played into their usual banter. But he didn’t—couldn’t bring himself to. Lilia looked away quickly, but not quite quickly enough.
“Oh? What nerve you have to avoid the gaze of your princess.” She dropped her playful tone. “Something weighs heavy on your mind.”
“… I can never hide anything from you, can I?”
“You will inform me at once.”
“So you can obliterate what ails me?”
“So that I may put you at ease." She lifted a hand, gesturing toward him. "That is the duty of a queen to her people… and, more importantly, of a friend to another."
Friend.
It stung right down to his bones, hurting more than a blast of righteous lightning. A reminder of what he was: a footnote, a supporting cast member in her grand story. Without that, he was nothing.
An outcast.
His stomach clenched. He forced down a bitter pill and spoke.
"I was just wondering what it must feel like to be in your position, Meleanor-sama," Lilia whispered. "Mother to a nation, and to a child. To wholly devote oneself to the service of others... I will never know what that is like."
At this, she laughed darkly. "I am strong. I have to be, because I have people to protect. You have that strength as well. You wouldn't be able to serve as one of my generals without it. There are just some things in this world worth risking your life for, hmm?"
"I don't understand. My loyalty will always lie with you, with Briar Country... but for a child, I cannot...!!" Lilia stopped himself, reining his emotions back to calm. "I've never known how that kind of love feels. I'm not capable of it."
Meleanor narrowed her eyes as she listened to his woes. Unwise men would think her contemplative. He knew better—she was scheming.
"... Let me tell you a secret, Lilia," she said at last. "A dragon's egg needs its parents' love to hatch. However, true love is a special spell. It's more powerful than any magic, and able to be cast by anyone. If you are able to protect me, then that alone is proof enough that you are capable of 'true love'."
"You make it sound so simple, but is it really like that? The children of man say that fae cannot tell an untruth, yet you so expertly reassure me with lies."
"You're questioning me? Laughable. I am a woman of my honor, unlike you with all your tall tales."
"They're not tall tales. They're real stories of the danger I was in. Danger that, mind you, I got in half the time on behalf of your demands."
"Is that so?" Meleanor had smiled at him then, her teeth gleaming in the dim candlelight. Long lashes fluttering against the emeralds of her eyes. "Then you wouldn't mind sharing a story or two with Malleus."
Lilia bristled at the thought, an old wound reopened. There was a burst of relief that accompanied the dull pain.
I can't sing her lullabies. I don't have her strength either. No partner to speak of, no family to look to. What I do have is...
He pressed Silver into him, keeping a hand rested reassuringly on the infant's upper back. Muffled cries and a warm wetness pooled on Lilia's shoulder. His steps slowed, coming to a steady pace.
The first words were the most difficult to get out.
"... Once upon a time, there was a princess living in this castle." His voice was slow and deep and sorrowful. Not a song, but a longing croon for days he could never return to.
They entered a corridor lined with paintings. The sound of Silver's sobbing funneled into the passage, a greeting to the dour faces of important officials portrayed in each frame. Horned, with raven hair and reptilian eyes, obsidian scales dotting their skin, milky and smooth as wax.
Lilia lowered his head to one as they passed--a woman upon a throne, scepter in hand, her pointed features dappled by moonlight.
"She was many things. Selfish, impetuous, and stubborn… but also brave, strong, and beautiful."
So beautiful.
That had been his first impression of her. A single pale rose amid a garden of thorns.
She was tiny in those days, still trotting about in small, polished heels that clicked with each step, her black dress swishing about. A scaled tail—fluffy at the end--poked out from under there, proof of dragonic heritage. Her long hair was slicked back, proudly displaying a pair of horns and the scales that crowned her forehead.
When she wailed, the skies turned stormy. When she beamed, the sun came out. Her expressions so lively as she spun around in her skirts, the fabric unfurling like the petals of a blossoming flower.
A princess both adored and feared by her people.
"She befriended an unruly ragamuffin.” Lilia's lips quirked, unable to fight them from tugging up. “He was without loved ones, so the princess extended a hand to him."
Lilia had stolen glances at her when he was convinced she was distracted. During royal processions, tending to the horses, when they crossed paths in the halls.
He never let himself stare for too long. To do so was nearly a death sentence. The guards would be upon him in an instant—or worse, she would.
But without doubt, she did.
She would look back, letting a telltale grin take shape when their gazes met.
Him, the nobody picked up by the royal family on a whim. A hopeless squire boy, a knight-in-training, a ward.
Him.
She noticed him.
Picking up her skirts, she'd made a beeline over. Grinning like a gremlin, she would inevitably set a tragedy into motion.
"Lilia, I'm sick of studying! Let's play instead."
"What? I don't want to. Besides, I have training to tend to."
"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. That's an order from your princess, so you can't refuse!"
“And that's the way the story always goes, a princess and her knight." He passed a glance at Silver. The infant's crying had quieted, and he returned the look, eyes wet with wonder.
Lilia sighed. "... I guess you wouldn't know that, would you? Well, it’s not as though she were your average girl.
"A wicked princess, that’s what she was. There was not a day when she wasn't making mischief and pulling the knight into it with her."
She had had many games, not all of them clearly defined or with rules. Sometimes she changed them on the fly. Sometimes she played without guidelines at all.
Pretend escalated into full-scale magical duels. Scavenger hunts spanned the entire castle grounds. They’d race to see who could relieve the gallery of the most apples in the least amount of time, dig through the treasury for the biggest gems.
On particularly lazy days, a roll across the lawn was enough to amuse them. Petals were plucked, sugary honeysuckle trapped between their teeth.
"You have something stuck in your hair," she'd tease him, picking loose petals out. "Let me get that for you, my most loyal retainer."
He'd hold still, as commanded, let her take as long as she wanted tidying him up.
When the guards combed the garden for them, they’d squish into shrubbery and lay low until the coast was clear. Sometimes their lids would grow heavy and collapse—and when they roused, stars had spilled into the sky, and they’d count constellations until the morning.
Starlight dappling her noble face, her fiery spirit ablaze.
How many diplomatic meetings had they crashed? How many ancient items had they broken? How many headaches had they collectively caused?
Lilia chuckled faintly.
… Those were the good old days.
He continued down the path laid before him, the paintings seemingly chugging along in slow succession. Both people and time passing him by.
"There was another as well. A clever, kind-hearted duke who also warmed up to the knight. The three of them formed a most formidable group.”
“Are you two at it again? You never stop, do you?”
The voice came from the top of the stairwell.
"Levan. So good of you to join us," Meleanor said breathlessly—she had been running about. She slicked back a strand of glossy raven hair and beamed toothily. It wasn't the smile of a princess, but of a dragon yet to be tamed.
He quirked a brow. "Am I joining you? Whoever said that?"
“If you’re jealous, no need to play coy," she teased as the Dragon Duke descended the stairs. "You’re welcome to join us anytime.”
"The princess has already roped me into her antics," Lilia sighed. "Why not make it a party of three? We can all get scolded together later. Misery loves company."
"A tempting offer." Levan lazily tilted his head to one side. He always had a languid way of moving, like a curtain of night veiling the day. "I think you've got me convinced."
"Why did you agree when Lilia asked and not when your princess did?" Meleanor demanded, stomping a foot.
Levan shrugged. Effortless, defiant. "Perhaps you're not as charming as you think you are."
Any other person would have faced her wrath. Anyone else would have been forced to tango with lightning.
Not Levan. He was too hard to stay mad at, and too easy to forgive. His presence alone smoothed over tensions, settled storms.
“He’s a dreamer,” the dusty old court advisors would remark with disdain.
“He’s a dreamer,” Lilia would say, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“He’s a dreamer,” Meleanor would sigh, the stars in her eyes.
Now, she just smirked at him. "I'll have to demonstrate to you just how charming I can be."
She had looked at Levan differently in that instant. Her eyes did not glint at the sight of new prey to toy with, but with keen interest. There was something else too, an undercurrent of some tender feeling Lilia couldn't quite place.
Meleanor had never looked at Lilia like that.
Only Levan.
He shook his head.
I should have known then... I was fighting a losing battle.
"With time, they grew ever closer. Unexpected feelings arose. The knight came to love the princess.” Lilia's feet came down upon the bramble that knitted over the floor. He could not feel it through his boots, but it felt as though he was still being pierced in the chest.
Silver blinked as Lilia plodded along. The gentle rise and fall drying his tears.
It had been a heady spring day, another escapade dodging servants and sneaking beyond the gardens. The flowers had blossomed, the same as the princess. She had grown lovelier by the day, her spitfire attitude untempered.
His flower of evil.
They were crossing a brook then, Meleanor lifting up her skirts to float to the other side, Lilia hopping on rocks to cross. He could have flown with her if he tried, but he was feeling cocky, had wanted to shown off the fruits of his training.
One misstep, and Lilia went flying forward, crashing into her. Their bodies collapsed against one another's as they roll, roll, rolled into a field, blades of grass and stray petals collecting on them. When they at last came to a stop, they laid on their lacks and laughed until their lungs hurt.
Lilia had stared at her again. Her smile, a powerful spell. She caught him in the act, demanded what he was looking at.
"You have something stuck in your hair," Lilia told her as they sat up. "Let me get that for you, my most benevolent princess."
"Stop stealing my lines," she giggled back.
Only if you stop stealing my heart first, he thought. But Meleanor was selfish, and once she had claimed something as her own, she refused to return her new treasure.
Lilia reached--and produced a single white daisy between his fingers. Kneeling, he offered the token to her. "Here. For you."
"Prankster. You planted that so you could appear impressive," Meleanor chuckled, accepting it. "... However, the gesture is sweet, so I thank you for it."
She held the flower to her nose and inhaled its scent. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, lips brushing the velvet-soft petals of the daisy. Wind weaving its hands through jet back hair, spots of sunshine dancing across her.
The entire universe was conspiring against him, it seemed.
He remained kneeling, remembering his place. Him, the knight. Her, the princess. But if that was the case, then weren't they perfectly suited for a fairy tale?
Lilia steeled his courage and let the words he had been holding in all that time loose. "M-Meleanor-sama! I... I like you. Not just as a friend. More than that. P-Please accept my feelings!"
Rare surprise dashed her beauty. A crack of light, dawn chasing away the darkness. “Lilia...?"
Here was his weakness, more terrifying than any enemy their country had faced. One young lady, and he folded like a paper crane. His heart in her hands.
And she squeezed.
"I'm not sure if I enjoy this joke. What we had before... I liked that."
More delicate than he had ever heard her speak. Like she was afraid of breaking this.
"This isn't a joke. I'm... I'm serious about you! Please answer me!!" he pleaded. "Will you be mine?"
At once, her face fell. The daisy, and his heart, slipped from her grasp.
"Oh, Lilia," she whispered, a hand clamped over her mouth. "I'm sorry. So, so, sorry."
A resounding rejection, chased by a dreadful loneliness. It had been nothing like the storybooks had promised. Lilia almost wanted to weep at his juvenile naivete.
He hushed, the awareness of it all consuming him.
So this is love.
Love, and the lack of it. How it hurt him so, as it had from had the start. He was always alone, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with.
Was that really love then?
The thought struck him like a fist to the gut.
I thought I loved you. But maybe that wasn’t true love. Maybe I was desperate to be loved back. To have someone to call my own, when I had no one at all before. Maybe I clung to the first person that showed the slightest bit of attention to me.
Even so, my heart ached for you. Longed for you. Believed it was meant to be. Dreamt of you. I wanted to give you my everything.
Lilia tucked the infant’s cheek to his chest. Felt the child’s warmth, his physical presence. The steady drum of something buried deep in him.
There was a wobbly yawn in the silence. Silver, tuckered out from crying, awaited the next part of the story.
The breath Lilia held released. The words, painful as they dropped from his lips.
“But she had eyes for another: the duke. The knight watched as his two best friends fell in love.” Lilia’s nails dug into the cloth that swaddled Silver. “The princess and the duke were happy, so the knight, too, was happy. And why wouldn’t he be? The woman he loved the most was going to marry the man he loved the most. It was a happy ending for the trio."
He had been summoned by the princess that fateful day. Returning triumphant from the battlefield, adrenaline running high, he hadn’t even bothered to make himself presentable first. His hair was a mess, his armor stained with the remains of slain foes.
She waited for him beyond the door.
“Melea… Oh.”
His princess was seated beside Levan. She clung to his arm like a vine on a trellis, beaming like the moon on a cloudless night. Meleanor was drunk on the Dragon Duke.
He had never seen her so happy.
“Lilia! You’re here at last,” she called, waving him over. “Just in time.”
He glanced from her to Levan. “In time for what?”
“For our exciting announcement.” Meleanor wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she gazed adoringly at the man beside her. Somewhat shy. “Would you like to tell him? Or should I? Ooh, this is quite exciting."
Levan smiled softly—but Lilia could sense the slight discomfort in his eyes, the way they darted to his. Guilty acknowledgement, an awareness of betrayal.
I'm sorry, he seemed to say.
Lilia’s blood ran cold.
“I think you ought to tell him,” Levan suggested. His voice was gentle, but they felt like a slash to the throat, cutting deep.
Then Meleanor announced it, unable to contain the secret any longer. "We're getting married!!"
She showed her left hand. The flash of the silver band upon her fourth finger was unmistakable. A ring, binding them with a promise.
Together forever, those two.
Lilia’s world violently tilted. The castle crumbling, the sky collapsing around him. Yet he, the trained soldier, dug his feet in and stood his ground.
You've been bested. Admit it. Admit defeat...!!
He said the only word he could.
"Congratulations."
Lilia could make out the light at the other end of the tunnel now. The world beyond the walls and castle corridors. He knew the end of the story was fast approaching, and how it would sap his strength, his will to fight on.
Still, he continued.
“The new couple were soon expecting a baby. Someone much like yourself.” Lilia prodded at Silver’s flabby chin. “You’ll be graced with his presence soon enough. The princess’s legacy, Malleus Draconia… My responsibility these past 160 years.”
Silver gurgled.
“So enthusiastic. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Lilia softly chided. “We fae and humans…”
… can never hope to understand each other.
"We fae and humans can understand each other," Levan would have countered him. "We can make it a reality."
Tiny hands wrapped around Lilia’s finger. His touch, fragile.
You can afford to be hopeful. It drew a bitter chuckle from his handler. Brief reprieve before the plummet into something deeper and darker than the night that guarded them.
“… In a period of great unrest, the duke went missing. The princess was beside herself with worry—yet she remained stalwart for her people, and for their child. She wished every night for her husband to come home safely.”
They had magical might, but the humans had numbers. Each battle, an exchange of hard blows, casualties high on both sides. Reports rolled in as frequently as bodies did.
The people grew concerned, and so she had donned her mask to reassure them. Stoney faced and strong atop her tower.
“We will recover the missing couriers. We will secure our land and resources. We will beat back the outsiders. Briar Country will rise victorious in the war. Man will rue the day they came upon our shores. This, I swear to you as your princess!!”
Uproarious cheering and applause for her, their sovereign. A goddess of victory.
But he, watching from the shadows, knew better than that. All those years roughhousing with her, and he knew.
The face she showed the public and the face she made in private were two sides of the same card. Princess, mother, wife, friend. So many roles, all of them she played with such strength.
Meleanor only slipped when she thought no eyes were on her. When the servants had all retired for the night, and the moon and its stars came out.
Pressing his back to the wall, Lilia shielded his candle’s small circle of light from view. The hallway was drenched in darkness again.
A few paces away, her chambers to which she retreated every evening with her egg. With her dear little Malleus.
He listened.
Soft whimpers sounded from the abyss. Sounds and sights she would not dare show her people.
A leader such as she could not afford to be weak. The same leader who clutched her child to her and furiously prayed for a happy ending.
“Levan, where are you? Come home… Come home, you idiotic, idealistic man!!”
CRASH!! BANG!! BOOM!!
Lightning lit up the sky. Lilia's flame trembled before righting itself.
Her voice dropped to a devious coo. "... I'm sorry, Malleus. Did that scare you? There, there. It's alright, your mother is here. Your father will be too... and when he does, I shall give him an earful for being away for so long!!"
He listened, for he was the only one who could. He listened until his lids began to droops. He listened until he had to tear himself away.
Before he knocked upon her door. Before he could tell her he was here, to please let him in. Before he could confess, “I miss him too.”
Hold her. Cry with her. Dream with her.
Ask for Levan back.
“I will never wish for anything more than this. Please. Please…!!”
He had listened then, but no one had listened to him in return. Not even the stars.
Cruel celestial beings, he cursed—if they would not grant his wish, then he would take matters into his own hands.
Levan…!!
Lilia swallowed thickly. His footfalls had grown heavy, as if weighed down by cinder blocks.
Silver sleepily gummed his finger. Oblivious as to what was to come.
“The conflict escalated.”
It had all happened so fast. Flying by, a blur. Time was not a concern to most fae—a year was barely the blink of an eye. Everything blending together into an indiscernible mush, taken down with ease.
But war never became more palatable. He had simply trained to become numb to it all. The strong smell of iron, the corpses piled high. It was sensory overload, the taste of too many things at once.
A crimson-eyed demon stood at the boundary of a burning village. Inhaled the fumes, smoke and flesh wrapped in fire. Witnessed the leaping flames stretching to the sky.
Who had lived here? Who had died here? Lilia thought of neither.
Had to, or he would fall to his knees and wail.
He held a small cloth doll, long black hair and red dress. Somehow it had survived the carnage. The lone survivor of a massacre. The rest had been slaughtered or evacuated from the area.
Abandoned, just as he had been.
His gaze lidded, fingers closing around the doll. "… As if it were a day. Everywhere I go, it will be in a blink of an eye. Far Cry Cradle.”
Memories arose, pulled by the strings of magic. They exploded across his vision like fireworks. Tinted green and blue and pink.
There was a ghostly child walking among the ruins, smiling as they clung to their mother, doll in their other hand. Daily life making the rounds in the village, helping with chores and playing games. Story events on fast forward.
Then came the knights stomping in their silver suits, masked fae cloaked in black. Buildings caving in, bodies falling, the clang of weapons colliding.
Screams.
Red, red, so much red.
The child horrified, dropping the doll. Staggering steps backward.
He barely cast an eye at them. Surveying the scene straight out of a hellish dream, he sought out a familiar shadow. Had he walked among them, seen the same things he had?
To no avail.
Lilia blinked, and it was the end.
He had not treaded along this path.
“… Damn it, Levan.” He gripped the doll harder—as if to squeeze out its secrets. Making me hunt you down like this...
“General Vanrouge.”
Lilia did not turn. “Baul.”
“Sir.” He saluted to his superior. “The troops are rested. We are prepared for the final march to the Eastern Fortress.”
“… Yes, I understand. Let’s move out.”
He let the doll fall to the ground. His hands now freed, he pulled his hood up.
“General?” Baul called tentatively.
“The weather is chilly today, don’t you think?” The question, dismissive. Lilia slipped his mask back on—a beastly bat, glaring, teeth protruding.
His tears hidden from view.
Baul nodded. “… Yes, it is. I will remind the men to bundle up, sir.”
He looked away. “Good.”
Lilia firmly set his jaw. “War came knocking at their door, claiming many lives… and threatening to take the princess and her child too.”
There was something automatically off about the fortress when they slipped in. The infiltration too smooth, the corridors too quiet.
Combing the building yielded few results. There was no Levan, no Dawn Knight. Only cowering staff and scattered humans in iron armor piloting sputtering metal monstrosities.
He cut them down the same as the rest. A mad boar, seeking a true challenge.
"Where are you?! Show yourself...!!" Lilia's demands were hollow in the empty hallways.
A demon snarling for sacrifice, the humans called him. A heartbroken dreamer, seeking the love that he had lost, his troops would whisper amongst themselves.
They found him at the end of a trail of carnage. Panting, sweating, hoarse. The lines between man and monster converged in Lilia Vanrouge.
Then the message was delivered, striking fear into the fearless fae.
"... What?"
The weapon in his hand faltered as realization ripped through him.
“Wild Rose Castle is under siege?!”
"She summoned her knight to her side.” Lilia’s voice quivered, growing small. You’re weak, he snarled at himself, so very, very weak.
Silver, too, seemed to sense the shift in him. He rubbed his cheek against the fae’s finger. Was he trying to comfort himself, or his newfound caretaker?
“The princess asked of him to take her child to safety somewhere far, far away. To forget her. It was her final selfish request for him.”
He had found her seated upon her throne, one arm curled around her precious egg, the other grasping her scepter. It was a sight so familiar, so safe, his chest lifted with relief. Lilia ran to her, calling her name.
"Meleanor-sama!!"
Her arm swept out in an arc, face twisted with fury. On command, a bolt of lightning crashed down in his path.
"Tch...!"
Tucking and rolling, Lilia darted off to the side, narrowly dodging the strike. Where he had once been was a massive scorch mark on the tiled floor.
“You’re LATE, Lilia!!” Meleanor roared. "What if something had happened to me or Malleus before you had arrived?!"
"Hah. As though you would allow that to happen," he scoffed. "You would kill the Silver Owls dead if I weren't here to stop you."
It was their usual game, a playful chase, the exchange of pokes and prods. Today, Meleanor had no such humor. Her expression turned from rage to one of eerie calm.
Lilia shivered.
"They've come for us," she whispered, hugging her egg tightly.
They had always known this day was a possibility. Now it was here, so palpable it was unreal.
From the bridge that ran to the castle came ugly chants twisted with hatred. Hot, oppressive, heavy. The sound like smoke snuffing out the daylight.
“Kill the witch!”
“Seize the castle!”
“Bring me the spoils!”
Horror raced through him.
“Let’s get you to safety, princess. Quickly, before they breach the drawbridge. My men can only hold them off for so long—”
She rose from her throne, descending from her dais. Her stride was not urgent, not eager to flee—the pace closer to the kind one might set for a garden stroll.
Meleanor faced her knight with a small smile. The same one she offered right before suggesting some sort of mischief.
“Lilia.”
“Princess…?”
“I refuse to run.” Her eyes flickered like green fire. “I will stand and fight.”
Panic pulsed in his ears.
“What?! Of all the foolish, hard-headed decisions you’ve made… This is absolutely the most foolish and the most hard-headed one!! I won’t let you go out there. I can’t. You’ll be…!”
A fist closed around his throat. The word died there, half-formed.
“What is it that you wish to say? That I will be hurt? Killed?” Meleanor challenged. So steadfast, so brazen. “You think so little of your princess.”
“This is NOT the time to argue the technicalities!! We need you safe and well, Meleanor-sama. Think of your people! Think of Levan, your child...!"
Think of me.
She bared her teeth. “What is my power for, if not to protect those I love?”
Her gaze lowered to her egg, then to Lilia. “... You must flee to Black Scale Castle. They will not be able to follow you that deep into the mountain range.”
"I won’t abandon you. If you will stay, then let me fight alongside you as your sword and shield!"
"You have already done plenty for me. Do not mean to play the role of martyr too." Meleanor straightened, looking the part of a regal ruler. “You must go. I have guests to receive.”
"Argh, you stubborn princess!! How will you fight by yourself when you have your child to consider?"
"That," she laughed softly, "is a simple riddle."
His eyes sharpened with recognition of her next scheme. Meleanor wordlessly deposited the egg into Lilia’s arms. It was warm, humming from within the shell.
A life yet to be born, wishes yet to come true.
“I am entrusting you with Malleus,” she murmured sadly. “Please take care of him in his parents' absence."
“Don’t speak that way!!" Lilia snapped.
Don't speak as though we will never meet again, as though this is the final page of our story.
“In the first place, I could never… I can’t raise this child. I don’t know what it is like to love—not the way you and Levan do. I’ve never had parents. I can’t be one, not when I don’t understand that kind of love!”
Meleanor’s face softened. “But you love me, don’t you? And you love Levan too.”
He nodded. Slow, hesitant. “We were young. It was a long time ago,” Lilia mumbled.
“You love us,” she grinned, “so surely you are capable of loving our child, the product of our love—and Malleus will feel that. He will respond to you.”
“I’m not…”
“You are deserving of love, Lilia.” This, Meleanor spoke firmly. “Do not let yourself believe otherwise. I shall never forgive you if you do.”
The shouts were growing louder. The castle shuddered, stopped, and shuddered again. Doors being rammed at, forced open.
“Go,” Meleanor hisses. “This is an order from your princess. You cannot refuse.”
She had told that to him many times before. In dreams, in their games. Now, it hurt to hear more than any blow he had taken from battle.
Something in him gave, and instead of stepping away, he stepped forward. Inching closer to the woman out of his reach, but never touching her.
“I’m scared,” Lilia confessed, quiet as snowfall. “What if I lose you like we lost Levan?”
Then I will be alone again.
“Be not afraid,” she reassured him. Meleanor did not meet him in the eyes.
“Do you promise we will meet again?” he pressed. The egg felt as molten as magma against his armor. “Do you swear?”
BAM!!
The grounds shook—the Silver Owls had successfully taken down a set of barricaded doors.
The cries had reached a fever pitch. Boots trampling upon the sacred grounds. Louder than ever.
Meleanor’s expression darkened, turning grave. It was the look of men at midnight, alone in the woods. Hollow, haunted, unsure of their fate.
No.
“No…!!”
He launched himself at his princess, a hand outstretched for hers. She made no effort to reach for his.
Did not have to.
Lilia fell short, his foot snagging on something. He instinctively twisted his body, shielding the egg in his arms from the floor. His gaze tore to his ankle, where bramble has sprouted up and tangled itself with him.
More thorns crept up around him, swallowing the ceiling, the walls. They latched onto his limbs, dragging him away, away from her. He grunted, struggling against them, against his fate.
Her doing, her magic.
"... Farewell, Lilia."
Tears prickled. His voice raised, pleading with her.
"Meleanor-sama, don't do this.”
She walked past him and ahead, forever out of his grasp.
"Farewell, Malleus."
He tried again, even knowing it was futile.
The bramble was weaving together, forming a tough wall between him and her.
"Meleanor-sama...!"
Through the last opening, a perfect circular window, she uttered her final words to him. That knowing, daring grin. Eyes beholding a gleam brighter than starlight.
"May the Night bless you."
And then she was lost to him forever.
"MELEANOR!!!"
Lilia laid a hand upon the ajar doors to the fallen castle. Fingers curled. At last, he had made it to the frame separating the inside from out.
“... That was the last time the princess was ever heard of. The end to her tragedy.”
He summoned his strength and broke free, entering the waiting night.
The moon, a spotlight for the two.
Silver bristled as he felt his first cool breeze. Still, he did not fully burrow into his blanket—for his glimpse of the stars stilled that instinct. That's right, Lilia thought, of course he would be enchanted. It's his first sky.
Many firsts.
"If you like that, you'll be excited to know that it's always changing. There are a number of new skies to see. It follows us wherever we go."
So we will never be alone.
The sky, so sprawling, so grand. So accustomed to everything and anything.
His small, lonely, insignificant existence was nothing compared to it.
Ah.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, landing on Silver's nose. The infant stilled, feeling the wetness upon his skin.
Lilia furiously wiped it away, then rubbed at his traitorous eyes. The sadness failed to recede, the memories welling. Promises, hopes, dreams dredged up. Yesterdays calling out to him.
"... You lied, Meleanor,” Lilia rasped into the night. “You told me I would be stuck with you for a long time. So why… Why did you have to leave us so soon?”
A thousand swords stabbed into his chest. The pain radiated outward, a bloody bloom.
"It’s not fair," he sobbed, hanging his head. "It’s not fair at all. Meleanor, Levan… You’ve gone off together to a place I cannot reach, a place I cannot run to. You’ve left me behind. How am I meant to go on like this?”
I'm scared. I’m scared of the dawn and the tomorrows it will bring. Tomorrows without her and him in them. Tomorrows I must face alone.
More tears, plip, plip. A light drizzle upon Silver's face.
The infant stared up through aurora eyes. Not understanding, not knowing anything.
"How could I...”
Lilia’s voice caught on something sharp. He took a trembling gulp.
How could I learn to love you? When your kind, your very father, has taken nearly everything from me?
"... Hey, Silver."
The child cooed, as if in recognition of his own name. More likely, just responding to the sound of Lilia's voice.
Silver, the color of his hair. Silver, the shine of cloud linings. Silver, the start of something new.
"Tell me. What should I do?" Lilia's forehead and his touched.
Silver kicked his bendy little legs at the contact. Flailed his arms.
“Please guide me. I’m lost." He choked up. "I’m… so lost.”
Be the moonlight that guides me in the darkness. When all hope is lost and the stars have gone out, there will always be a silver light illuminating the path out of the black forest.
Show me the way, Silver.
“Show me if I can truly love you from the bottom of my heart.”
Lilia hugged the child to him. Felt his heartbeat, the same throbbing warmth that had radiated from Malleus’s egg.
After all that time alone amid the bramble… He was here. He was alive.
Up until her final moments, she had been thinking of them. Of this. The people she cared for, a baby not yet born.
The love he had let go, the love he had lost, the love he was he had to learn… It slipped away from him so easily, like grains of sand sifting between his fingers.
Lilia sighed with his entire body. The wind, drying his tears. He looked again at the child he had taken.
Silver giggled when he saw Lilia’s face. The boy’s eyes were clear. An unclouded, colorful aurora.
A weight in his chest lifted.
“… Did you enjoy that sad story?”
No answer, but a bop on his nose. Unintentional, he was sure.
Lilia rubbed at the place where he had been struck. There was no wound, no mark. Just a rapidly fading warmth where Silver's small fist had connected.
“… Silly thing,” he groused. In spite of himself, a stuttering chuckle rose from his throat. “If it will keep you from making needless noise, then I will tell you as many stories as you like. You need only promise to not laugh if I shed another tear.”
Silver squealed—close enough of a confirmation for him.
Lilia tried smiling. The corners of his mouth quiver before giving up.
Meleanor’s parting words floated to him. “May the Night bless you.” With that, it was the end of her tale.
The very same words uttered anew, a blessing for the boy once blonde. A fresh chance, the beginning of a new story.
Lilia looked to the horizon.
The first rays of sun were peering through the darkness. Gold streaking black in small slivers. Dawn had arrived.
A new chapter to their fairy tale.
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chaoskirin · 22 days
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in this house, we DO talk about Bruno!
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lc-fics · 1 year
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Jack Grealish - Please Me 18+
POV: You and Jack Grealish have been together for years and he has just come back from being away with England and you aren't ready to give in.
Contains: Mature Language 18+ - this one may be pure filth
Music Choice: Bruno Mars & Cardi B – Please Me
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Whenever Jack went away with the England squad I missed him, of course I did, he lit up every room he was in, including at home, it was like large void was in my life when he wasn't there.
Of course, we could text, call, facetime but it wasn't enough. It never was. Seeing his sweaty abs after training, hearing his croaky morning voice, seeing his tanned body laying naked in bed wasn't the same when I couldn't be there and touch him.
He knew this as well; he would tease me when we weren't together.
"People always think it's me that's sex crazy, but you are so desperate for me aren't you darling?" he said one night on a call, as he pulled the covers down low enough that I could see where his tan line was and the dominant V on his hips.
He knew how it made me feel when he spoke to me like that, he knew how much it would turn me on. Watching him laying in his hotel room stroking himself while I touched myself was just not enough, even with that dirty brummie voice.
"How much do you want me to make you feel good baby?"
"You gonna get on your knees and take this big cock when I'm back home?"
"Just think about me bending you over and fucking you so hard that you wont even remember your own name, only mine as you scream it out"
It was frustrating but it wouldn't be for much longer. I knew as soon as he got home, I would wrap my arms around him, and we would fuck on every surface of our home until we both couldn't move anymore.
However, things changed the day before he was due to come back, a comment he made that made my mind race.
"I bet you are gonna be cumming before I even touch you, so needy baby, you need to have some self-control like me, you'll be begging me in no time" he said with a wink on our nightly facetime call.
I thought about it the next day and thought, that sounds like a challenge, so that's what it became.
I headed upstairs picking out my tiniest pair of shorts and a tight fitted vest top, making sure to place on the claret red underwear set that just poked over the top and went to wait for him to arrive home.
Jack came through the door just gone 11am, his hair tidied up in a tiny bunchie and his training top and shorts on.
"Honey I'm home" he called out while laughing to himself.
I saw him coming round the corner and I headed towards him wrapping my arms around him.
"Yay your home" I said as I kissed his lips, softly before breaking away as his mouth edged closer to mine, still pouting, chasing the kiss that had now gone.
"I've missed you" he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist as I was walking away.
"Missed you too babe" I said back.
"So, what's the plan for today then?" he said as he kissed my shoulder edging the strap of my top down, seeing the colour of my bra.
"Well, I was thinking we could work up an appetite before lunch" I said as I turned to look at him, gripping the top of his shirt.
"Oh yeah?" he said with a smirk upon his face "What did you have in mind?" his hands wander round to grip my ass as his lips fall down to my neck.
I duck out of his grasp "Taking Summer for a walk" I said as I gestured to the dog who had lazily come walking into the room.
I turn on my heels and pick up her lead before looking towards Jack, a visible bulge now appearing within his shorts as I smirk to myself.
"C'mon" I shout as I clip the lead onto the dog and head towards the front door with Jack trudging behind.
We walk a while in the countryside, Jack talking about the past 2 weeks, the match analysis he likes to give about his own performance as well as stories about the lads and what they got up to. My hand remains interlocked with him as we walk this peaceful trail. We start to loop back towards the house when Jack wraps his arms around me from behind again, kissing into my neck as we walk.
We go through the overgrown trees as Jack remains attached to me, I look down towards his feet and can see one of his shoe laces are undone.
"Oh, Jack your lace" I say as I stop, he goes to bend down but I stop him "I'll do it for you babe" I say with a smile.
I let go of his hand and run my hand down his stomach, brushing over his groin and down his thigh before trailing my fingers down his calf. I drop to my knees and look up at him as I see him bite lightly on the corner of his bottom lip. I reach my hand to the lace and do it back up before looking back up at him. I place my hand around his leg, so my thumb is gripping the front and run my hand the whole way back up before I get to his shorts, riding them up slightly with my grip on his leg before feeling his dick twitch against my thumb before it gets to his waistband. He gulps as my thumb and fingers hook into it before I release them, smile at him and walk on.
"C'mon, lets get home and have lunch" I say with a smirk to myself.
When we get home Jack wastes no time in suggesting we go for a shower.
"I mean we should probably freshen up after that walk and it makes sense to shower together, saves water, right?" he said with a wink.
"Go start running it and I'll be up in a minute" I say with a smile.
I look at the time, 12:15pm, thinking this will work with the plan I set for today.
I walk upstairs and head into our bathroom, the steam is filtering out through the door as the warm water floods over Jack's naked body. Fuck, this is difficult, I think to myself. He turns as I walk in fully, placing my phone down on the bathroom side before smiling at him.
"Come join me" he says as he steps out from under the shower head, water droplets dripping from his hair, down his face.
I step out of the shorts and pull the vest top over my head, so I am now only wearing the tiny underwear set. I watch as Jack's eyes scan up and down my body, he licks his lips before looking back at me, his pupils dark and heavy.
I pull the straps off my arms and unclasp the back, letting it fall to my feet as I hook my thumbs on each side of my underwear and tease it down my body before looking at Jack again. I step towards the shower and his body stays still as I brush past him to get under the shower head.
I tilt my head back, letting the water coat my face, my hair, and my body as I feel Jack's eyes burning in to me. I take a handful of soap and lather it up coating my body before rinsing it off. When I look back at him, he comes towards me, his lips touch mine and this is the first time I kiss him back, pushing him back under the shower as the water coats us both. He backs me up until I'm pressed up against the glass, his hand coming to connect with my thigh, hitching it up as he presses his body against mine.
He breaks away from our kiss, pressing soft kisses at first upon my neck before moving to my collarbone. His spare hand comes down my body, across my stomach before reaching lower.
DING DONG SOMEONE IS AT THE FRONT DOOR
My phone screeches through the room, I go to move before Jack speaks
"Leave it, whoever it is can fuck off, I need you" he breathes against my skin.
"I can't it's your parents" I say with a smile as he looks at me and frowns "They wanted to see you when you got back so we arranged to go for lunch as a surprise"
He looks at me and down to himself with the undeniable hard-on.
"How the fuck am I meant to go down and see them with this?" he says with a laugh.
"That sounds like a you problem" I say with a smile "but don't you dare even think of cuming" I say as I wrap my hand around the back of his neck as I whisper in his ear "I want to taste all of you, so you best save it"
I walk out of the bathroom as I hear him swear under his breath.
I pick up a dress and throw it on before heading to go and let them in. We chat for a while before Jack finally appears, sheepish and with a glint in his eye. He's still horny as fuck I can see it and to be honest, I'm really enjoying it.
"Shall we go?" I say with a smile as we head into Jack's car making our way to the local café that I know Jack loves.
We order our food and drinks and go about chatting about Jack's time away, his parents listening to every word he says as I can see the desperation in his eyes to eat his toastie as quick as possible so we can get home.
I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and have a quick glance in the mirror. As I step back out, I can see Jack stood at the counter as he gestures to me to come over.
"Mums insisted on having dessert, but I really have a much better idea for what I'd prefer" he says as he reaches down to grab my ass.
"Patience Jack" I say with a smirk "Besides that chocolate cake looks really nice" as I bend down to look at it, he instinctively stands behind me, not wanting anyone else to see me like this.
I stand up and turn around and smile at him "I'm glad you stood behind me then" I say.
"I don't want anyone else looking at your ass" he says as he kisses my lips.
I lean into his ear "That's good, because I haven't got any underwear on" I say as I go to step away.
He grabs my arm and pulls me to face him, his face shocked, his body still "Are you serious?" he says.
"I didn't have time to before your parents came over" I say as I shrug my shoulders and then wink at him before I head back to the table.
"You're killing me" he says as I head through the room.
Once we had finished, we headed back home, I offered Jack's parents a cup of tea when they got back but Jack insisted he needed to get on with some promo work he had been putting off while with England, that was bullshit I thought and they left.
"What am I going to do to you?" Jack said as he came back into the room after saying bye.
"I don't know what you mean" I said with a smirk "anyway I have watching the new season of Sex/Life next on our list of fun things to do today"
"Do you have many more things on that list?" he says "because I have some suggestions of what we could do" he moves closer, hitching up my dress.
"Suggestions are not needed" I say kissing his lips before heading upstairs to get changed.
When I come back down Jack is laying in the cinema room, his white t-shirt riding up over his abs as he lounges back. I changed into a bralette and fluffy shorts and grabbed some snacks on the way.
I fall back onto the seat with him, and he wraps his arms around me. His hand sits lazily on my thigh as we watch an episode, not really talking, just enjoying each other's company.
"This program is proper raunchy" he says as he turns to me.
"It's good though" I say with a smile.
"Yeah, really good, just didn't think id be watching people fucking non-stop, may as well have put a porno on" he says as he winks at me.
"Oh, I bet you would love that, watching girls touching each other, hearing them moaning, choking each other, pulling their hair" I say as I watch him gulp, hinting at the kinks that Jack has.
"But this is dirty enough, I mean its not every day you watch a woman get eaten out at the side of the pool" I say again with a smirk.
"I'll happily give you first hand experience of that if you want" he says as his lips connect with my neck.
"Okay, book the holiday and I might let you do that" I say as I laugh.
"Might let me?" he scoffs.
"Yeah, tell me you aren't desperate right now to get your hands on me, run your tongue down my body. To here." I say as I run my finger over my nipple "or further down here" I say as I run my hand over my shorts "or the fact that you want my mouth all over you" I say as I lean over him.
He lays back, lips parted, breathing deeply as my hand reaches over him so my body is on top of his, he moves his legs apart so I can fit between it. His eyes dart down to my chest, then to his bulge that has come right up in the last couple of minutes, I follow his gaze as I hold myself up on my arms, before leaning closer towards him.
As his mouth moves up towards mine, I move myself to the left of him and reach across and take my drink from the side. I sit on my knees between his thighs while I take a sip of my ice-cold lemonade.
He licks his lips again as I move the glass away from my mouth.
"Did you know they say if you put an ice cube in your mouth before giving head it feels insane?" I say with a smile as I take a cube into my mouth.
"Why don't you put that theory to the test?" he says as he pulls his shorts down a little bit lower, almost freeing his aching dick.
"I can't I'm watching this, maybe another day" I mutter with the ice cube still in my mouth, drips of water falling out of my mouth onto Jack's bare abs and groin.
As I watch him roll his eyes and grit his teeth I laugh, causing the ice cube to shoot out of my mouth and land on his Calvin Kleins. He winces as the cold water hits him, as it touches where he is so sensitive.
"Whoops" I say as I reach my hand down, cupping his thick, heavy dick before taking hold of the ice cube and putting it back in my mouth "Sorry" I say as I do so.
I place my cup back down and sit next to Jack. I look towards where the ice cube hit him, just above where his dick lays. I see a smear of wet appearing where his tip presses against the soft cotton fabric and I smirk, who's going to be cuming first Jack? I think to myself.
After another episode and Jack's attempt to hide the fact that his dick was throbbing, I thought it was almost time to take pity on him. I sat up on my knees before turning to talk to him.
"I bought some fizzy sweet pencils in with me" I say as I gesture towards the end of the bed.
"My favourites" he says with a smile.
I lean forward on my hands and knees and crawl towards the end of the bed. I make sure I go slowly, make sure he gets a good view before I turn and look over my shoulder, seeing his hand rub down against his length for some kind of relief as he sits with parted lips.
I laugh as I turn around and reach down off the bed for the bag of sweets before heading back towards him. He pulls me onto his lap, so I am straddling him, feeling his hard dick between my thighs is only making me want him more but I need to be strong for a little bit longer.
I open the bag and pull one out placing it into Jack's mouth before I put one in mine. I swirl my tongue around it a couple of times before sucking it up and down. His eyes lock to my mouth, watching the movement as I smirk.
"Eyes are up here Jack" I say with a smile.
"Can't help it, you are fucking turning me on so much and you fucking know it" he says with a half-hearted smirk, too horny, too frustrated to even see the funny side in things.
"I want you baby" he says as he leans forward and kisses my neck as he bucks his hips up to me to try and get contact where he needs it most.
I let him bite down upon my neck a couple of times, feeling his dick drag against me, feeling myself get wetter with every movement. I reach my hand to the back of his neck, feeling him lick a stripe up from my neck to just behind my ear before he kisses again.
I then move my hand up to his hair and pull it slightly at first and then I yank it all the way back. I watch his pupils blow as I do so, the one kink he can't get enough of. I take my other hand and run it along his collarbone, up to his neck, squeezing gently before gripping his chin.
"Beg me" I say as I hold him there, the hand in his hair pulling ever so slightly "Beg me to let you cum" I say again as my lips graze his.
"Fuck baby" he moans "Please let me cum, please, fuck this is killing me" he says with an air of desperation in his voice.
I lower my hips down onto him and push backwards as his eyes roll back. I release the grip on his chin and with one final yank I remove my hand from his hair.
I move down his body and free his throbbing dick from his boxers, seeing the cum already dripping out of the top. I take it in my hands, not moving at all, just keeping it still and look up at him.
"Cum for me now" I say as I hold my tongue out.
Within seconds he is spilling his load onto my tongue and down my throat, his moans are louder than I have ever heard them before, his body convulsing as his legs shake. I look at him, how truly beautiful he is with that just fucked expression upon his face. His hair laying on his sweaty forehead as he breathes deeply in and out.
He looks at me and I hold my mouth open to him so he can see every drop of himself.
"Fuck baby, I could cum all over again seeing that" he says as he sits up and I swallow before showing him my now empty mouth.
"Put your money where your mouth is then Grealish" I say as I kiss his lips, his tongue frantically working into my mouth, tasting himself upon my tongue. His hands wrap around my back as I reach into his hair. I can feel his dick hardening with every swipe of our tongues.
"So needy baby" I moan as I push him back onto the bed as I pull my shirt over my head as he does the same. I lift up and pull my shorts and underwear off as he pulls his further down.
"I need you" he says "I've missed you so much" he moans as he works his dick up and down before I lower my hips down onto him. Feeling him fill me up, feeling myself lose control before I snap back taking charge of the situation.
"Show me how much you need me" I smirk as his hands connect with my hips and he thrusts his hips up and down, hard and fast, hitting deep within me every time.
"Fuck" he moans as he hitches his knees up and pushes his hips high of the bed over and over again.
I look at his eyes, the way they switch from looking at me, to looking at where his dick slips in and out of me and I smile, I've got him so desperate, and I love it.
He sits up on the bed so we are chest to chest as we move our bodies together, I know I wont last much longer from the way he hits that perfect spot or the friction this position causes but I can also see he will be cumming in moments too.
I reach my hand and pull his hair as I bite down upon his neck, he moans loudly before thrusting his hips sloppily back into me. I whisper into his ear
"I want you to make me cum, I want you to fill me up, I wanna feel you dripping out of me"
He moans as his lips fall against my shoulders peppering lazy and sloppy kisses upon my bare skin. His thumbs dig into my hips as he thrusts a couple more times, pulling loud moans from my lips as he looks into my eyes.
"Cum with me baby" he moans against my lips as our bodies come undone.
I can feel myself coat him as he pushes his cum deeper and deeper into me. His choked moans fall from his mouth as he pants against my skin, sweaty bodies pressed against each other as we stay like this.
I cup his face as he looks at me, softening slightly while he is still inside of me "Where was that self-control you bragged about?" I say with a smirk.
He looks at me puzzled and then it clicks, and he smirks "Was all of this today about my comment last night?" he says as I laugh "You fucker, you made me a sex crazed whore all day long"
"Your words not mine" I say as I laugh.
"I'm happy to be wrong, if this is what it leads to" he says as he kisses my lips.
"Well, I guess I can finally say Welcome Home baby" I smirk.
"It's good to be home" he smiles.
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cutecatlov3r · 1 year
Text
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨?
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various x reader ! [natsu, gray, gajeel, jellal, and zeref]
synopsis: my head cannons and my opinion on which songs they'd fuck you to .
warnings/tw: all characters are 21+, praise, degradation, and my personal head cannons on what they are like during sex .
a/n: don't copy my work ! like, re-blog, and comment ily ! not proofread .
jjk ver. aot ver. hq ver. bllk ver. bnha ver.
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Natsu Dragneel
Sure Thing [Miguel]
✰ Of course Natsu sees you as a friend and a lover, this song explains how he feels about you. That's why it's his favorite.
✰ He can be a dom or a sub, it's whatever you want from him, he loves you so he will do anything for you.
✰ This song makes him want to fuck you deep, slow, and steady. He just wants you to know that he loves you.
✰ He is a bit dumb so he doesn't always have the right words during sex.
✰ "Holy shit, the way you take my dick is so good! Keep it up babe,"
✰ He is a moaning mess, he can't control himself !
✰ Usually he tries not to cum inside of you, he doesn't want to make a mess or have a mini him running around the house.
✰ But ! Sometimes he has breeding urges so he tries to cum deep in your womb here and there.
✰ He couldn't ask for anyone better than you, you're his person. He dedicated this song to you for a reason.
✰ He doesn't really understand aftercare so all he does is hold you tightly so you can't get up after sex.
"We could do it, baby, simple and plain. 'Cause this love is a sure thing"
-
Gray Fullbuster
Na Na [Trey Songz]
✰ I can see him being a sweet dom. Like mean in actions but sweet when it comes to talking with you.
✰ It's cannon that he smokes so he probably would light up a cigarette as he plunges himself deep inside you.
✰ He'd offer you a cigarette to but you're too fucked out of your mind to reply to him.
✰ He smirks when seeing you in such a pathetic position.
✰ He'd be the one who would go as deep and as fast as he can, not wanting to slow down.
✰ Butt naked. You and him don't wear any clothes when it comes to sex.
✰ I can't see him as the type to cum inside you, I feel like he'd like to cum on your tummy or on your face.
✰ HIS DEEP VOICE .
✰ "Hey, all clothes off sweetheart, including your bra,"
✰ After cumming on you he will clean you up and just hold you close while being naked.
"You feeling lucky tonight, When we leave this party, you gon' love me tonight"
-
Gajeel Redfox
Locked Out of Heaven [Bruno Mars]
✰ GUYS ! HEAR ME OUT ! This is something he'd listen to! He loves music that has somewhat of a funky beat.
✰ Of course he fucks you to this song. Your sex does take him to paradise.
✰ Degrades you if you act like a brat and doesn't often praise you.
✰ "Shut your damn mouth you brat !"
✰ He manhandles you . Super rough, pushes your head into the pillows etc.
✰ This song during sex isn't very likable to you but if it makes Gajeel happy, you don't mind listening to it.
✰ Cums inside you at all costs.
✰ He sings . He sings this song after you two are done . He can't help it .
"'Cause your sex takes me to paradise"
-
Jellal Fernandez
Die For You [Joji]
✰ Switch. With this song he is kind of submissive.
✰ He loves you so deeply and passionate. This song expresses that he would die for you, even if you left him.
✰ I can see his deep voice moaning and groaning.
✰ "So... Warm~ Keep bouncing on my cock... So good~"
✰ Praises you but when he's dominate he would degrade you.
✰ He lets you ride him to this song, going at whatever pace you want.
✰ "W-woah, slow down baby,"
✰ If you don't cum he will use his tongue to make you.
✰ Boob guy>
✰ He sucks on your boobs, leaving hickeys on your soft plump breasts.
"And it's true that I need you here closer"
-
Zeref Dragneel
Apocalypse [Cigarettes After Sex]
✰ His love for you is out of this world . He is the definition of 'would die for you'.
✰ He has never cared for anyone so much.
✰ He is the type to cry after sex because of how much he loves you. The intimacy just makes him so happy to be with you.
✰ Super slow and gentle with you, rubbing on your favorite parts to help you cum.
✰ "Are you gonna cum for me?"
✰ He likes sucking on your skin, he doesn't care where it's at.
✰ He is a vanilla guy.
✰ Moans for you, loud and clearly.
✰ He is so sweet, making sure you're okay. He often gets worried if he hurts you on accident, he would never dream of hurting you.
✰ You're his everything, he couldn't live without you.
✰ After sex he will help you get in the shower, rubbing your back until you fall asleep.
"Your lips, my lips. Apocalypse"
-
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erinnkenobi · 1 year
Text
After the Fisher King | Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Chapter two - Chapter three
Pairing | Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Warnings | friends to lovers!?
Summary | You're always ahead of 'em, it seems we got another nerd.
Author's note | English ain't my native language, yet I still writing because I want to share the stories inside my head
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You start living alone, since the moment moved to work for the FBI, especially in Quatico at the BAU department, surely that you missed your parents, but it was time for the little bird to leave its nest. Although to make you a company you have a trained female German Shepherd, only the both of you sharing a home. (IN a condominium of houses, kind of a safer option, both of your closest neighbours are an old lady and the other is a solo mom with two kids)
The last case you're with Hotchner team, the team that you belong to, you were the only that look askance at Bruno, you reported that to Gideon and he said:–"You always are inclined to think most people are the ones that you should mistrust and...You always get the right unsub, but now, wait a little and maintain this information for yourself, I'll talk with Bruno now."
When you left the room Spencer was following with curiosity:–"What were you two talking about?"
You just can't ignore and sound rude, so you stop and turns to him.
–I think I might know who is the spy..-he interrupts with ease.
Since you two met you were also a strange "kid" from the rest of 'em, you never drank alcohol, not even used to go to pub's, while on working you always were putting a puzzle together or sketching something that resembles the case the team was working, you're quiet most of time thinking while the others start with brainstorming to set up the unsub profile, but you, you always mistrusted people on these cases, except your team, you're the quickiest to ensure the final answer.
At first it was kind tough to get in with the team, although ye are finally were able to communicate with them, Spencer as both of you has the same age he feels comfortable.
– Who do you think it is?-he's by your side now.
– The headmaster...-you say with a unaudible tone, yet he didn't understood you, so he leans down making you blush.
– I didn't understood, could you repeat again?-he leans his face right by your face side, even being an agent this doesn't means you're free from feelings, you mind went blank for milliseconds but thou swear it was minutes.
Spencer Reid heard you plenty well.
– I said, I think 99% our unsub is the old mate of Gideon, the one that is at the command and I'm talking like that because i don't want anybody discovering beforehand it's time, Gideon asked me to hide it.
Reid thought for a couple of seconds.
– Where is the 1%?
– Really?-you rolled your eyes, but he doesn't smile yet still with his blues eyes gluet at your figure filled with curiosity.
– The 1% is just if I made a mistake judging his character, though I know I'm right.
– I believe in you, yet our team should still work on the case.. I won't tell anybody until its time.
– Thanks?
– You know.- he stands in front of you.-You could have said no, that it was confidential your thoughts.-you chuckle unbelievable.
– Why would I do this?
– Because Gideon asked you to do so.- yup, but as you have a crush on him you wouldn't deny it and if you were one more time right, who knows, you like comoliments.
– Because we're mates and you can say, if I were right, "y/l/n was right since the beginning, again".-he giggles shaking his head.
– I don't know what to say, really, but since you're working with us, sometimes you threaten my position and also Gideon's.-you laugh uncomfortably and he noticed apologising quickly.– Sorry I didn't meat to offend you, what I-I...-he stutters.– I'm trying to say is with you, with us, I have to give my best and be by your side.-you opened your eyes surprised, what was he saying?- How do you do that, always guessing the right unsub with lack information?
– Wanna know how?
– Yeah, tell me your secret and I promise I'll keep it, I mean it and I won't tell Gideon.
It was amazing this interaction, you're the first person Spencer was able to maintain a conversation without making him felt uncomfortable.
—Aristotle once said: "No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness", besides it's all my paranoia telling me, they say, to think outside the box and visualise, however, my paranoia is always thinking at the same time in and outside the box now, I guess that our problem is inside the box.-his face brightened, when he was ready to ask one more thing, Hotchner called Spencer.
You're at the hospital waiting for any news of agent Elle when you got a call from Reid.
–You were right, our unsub was Bruno and Gideon mentioned that you were the first to guess it right, is Elle alright?
–Hmmm, thanks.-you say sheepishly.-And yes, she will survive, Gideon is with her now, Nadir and the children are safe?
–Yes, and Hassan is under arrest.
You were able to smile when he said that.
Case closed
[Time breaks]
–Woah.- when you arrived at home last night you received a phone call from Hotchner demanding you show up at BAU, you thought you would enjoy your holiday travelling around London visiting historical museums and libraries, you paid for your ticket and even told your cousin you would pay if he/she helped you looking after your precious dog and now, for what? No London anymore baby.
At BAU, you sit with them around the table.
–What happened? I was supposed to take a plane to London today.
– I know.-Gideon says.-But Hotchner and I received a peculiar message, I received a head in a box, at the only place I thought I were safe with a note, mentioning your last name.-you opened your eyes in shock.
–What it says?
–Not only it says something as well Hotchner also received a phone call that somehow connect you.
– Then..?
– It says "The magician shall not help..."-Hotchner says coming inside the room, stern look as always.
You huff shrinking in the chair.
– and mine says "y/n shall stay out out out out out" repeatedly more than 20 times.
–Wow.-you smile with no humour.–Why? What does it mean?-you already know why.
– It means our unsub wants you out of this case.-Gideon says.
Garcia show up shameful of her acts, just for playing a silly game it exposed everybody position, except yours, why? Well, you used vpn, you're good at blurring your information, your address and even when you're out making your supermarket shopping.
– He has information about everyone.-poor Garcia.-He invaded my-my system, because I was playing a game, but not of BAU computers, yet in mine laptop, however I need to connect.
Yup, you don't blame her, well because you hide your own information, you house isn't addressed correctly and the unsub couldn't get a good picture of you, he knows that you're smart, he don't want the this case ending soon. He knew with you in, you would be the one going to discovery his profile.
Summing up, Hotchner had to ask you to retire only in this case, but you shouldn't go home alone, so Hotchner told an agent to follow with you back home and stay there. But you have a stubborness and reckless behaviour, which Reid knows as well the rest of the team, besides this, when Elle was shot, the plan to make you get rid of this case went downhill, now you're in and you brought your dog.
–Can I pet, what is the name of your dog?-Spencer asks you, getting you surprised, the dog just stared at you as if asking "Can he, mom?Tell my name".
You alert him:-Just be careful, she's trained, any false move and you got yourself a stump.-Reid hesitate and you laughed.-I'm kidding, just be gentle and it's Nala, you know, Lion King, Simba's wife.
He breathe in relief with a grin, he leans down so he could smooth her fur, she accepted without growling, what's a win.
She liked him, but you wouldn't tell, it's not important now.
The rest of the case went okay, the whole time you were found helping Garcia to check the information and between this time you were able to be alone with Reid deciphering the riddles.
He told you about his mother when he called the sanitarium and requested for her presence.
Your dog was asleep near the couch while you were alone with his mother, you were able to maintain a friendly conversation, talking about medieval literature, Spencer saw it before entering the room question his mother.
When everything settled down, Spencer wanted to talk with you in private which you all willingly agreed, when he asked it was so funny the way he asked while gesturing with his hands, you noticed he was nervous.
–So after all this mad case and the explosion afterwards you still up to a "meeting", where's the others?-you look around the table searching for them, you wondered if he'd invited the rest of the team, yet he did not.
Spencer is with pink tints in his face, you got you answer but you will wait for his.
– Well... I didn't invited the rest of the team, only you.
– And why? Did you want to question me why our unsub dismissed miserably my part on this case?
– No, this I already know the answer, you're like Merlin, the sorcerer, you're able to hide your address ip, so you're also a computer genius.
– You flatten me, yet I'm not into TI and software area, but I know a couple of things.
– Much to manage and hide your localisation from the F.B.I and even CIA.-you rolled your eyes with wit.
– You got me now.-you chuckle.
It seemed as a date, yet you strongly disagreed on that matter, you didn't fit his standard, he kissed an actress cases ago.
[...] Spencer escort you to your house, both of you all the way long speaking of nerd stuff, every single topic he was captivated by you and you for him, whatsoever you couldn't be in love, love is not for you.
–Now you're the only one that knows where I live, don't split okay.-you blinked opening hour door.-It's late and I don't think I can't let you go.-oh boy, his stomach churned, yet yours were in full adrenaline but keep with a cool face.– Come in, Nala already knows you.
He hesitated, but you're good at convincing, since the Fisher King case is not safe to be let alone, him in this case, you have your loyal Nala.
Nala is sleep on her own bed near the TV desk in the living room.
–Doctor Reid, I have only my room, you can stay with my bed, I stay with sofa, I don't mind at all.
– No no no, I can use the sofa and you stay with your own bed, please.-you cross your arms staring at him.
– Are you sure?
– Definitely, no worry with me.
You rolled your eyes again with a sheepishly smile.
–I'll change, do you mind?-Reid just reddened shaking negatively his head.
– No no, I don't and..
– I have men clothes, do you want?-for a moment his shy grin fades as quickly as your humorous expression.
– I bought a couple of jumpers and pants at the shopping mall, so I could use when..when..
–When?-Reid stares at you making you feel small.
– When I feel alone, I mean, I have no time to date or anything else rather work or read something to get me out of this world, with male clothes, bigger than my size, I feel comfy.
Oh he understood, first time that he seems you showing any feelings, everybody thought you were more cold-hearted than Hotchner, always cool in any case, as if nothing could surprise you anymore at such young age. How did you ended at BAU?
Well, as far as you can remember you only studied, an exchange program in the UK for 2 years and the other years at the USA and here we are, working at BAU alongside a beautiful colleague that you don't mind admiring from a far.
–I don't know if I..
– It's okay if you don't want and I swear, they're all clean and tidy.
– I didn't meant that they weren't is just
– Hey, I'm not obliging you, but I have an extra toothbrush, never used.
– Thanks.
Minutes later you appeared with a huge navy blue jumper with a star wars short, free hair nothing on it, his heart skipped a beat.
–Hungry? We didn't eat anything for a cozy night and as you're my guest, milk?
–Hm?-poor man is frozen.-I'd like, please.
You both were all smiley here and there while eating a soft lunch before bed time, it wasn't 00h yet.
–Poor Nala is staring at us.-Reid mentions making you look at her puppies eyes.–Can I give a piece of this bread/crackers?
–A medium to small size, just don't make her get used to it, don't fall for these puppy eyes.
He already fell for it, he fell for Nala's owner as smart as he is, he knows that you wouldn't get any of his feelings towards you, but inly if he didn't make a move...
[03h23 a.m]
You couldn't sleep well, so you get up, the funny and silly things is you're hearing voices and low growls trying to communicate .
The hallway heading to the kitchen, you has a roundy wood table and in there you see a sleeplessness Reid with your trained hunt dog, playing, you stood there with arms crossed staring at them, until they stop playing.
– Can't sleep?
– Yeah...
– Me neither.-you come a cross his chair side.-What are you doing, reading one of my books from my living room shelf?
‐ Sorry, I...
– Reid, we're friends, might not be best-friends, but I can believe you with my precious books.
– Wait.. We can be best friends?
– Hmm, I guess we can.-you smile without showing your teeth.
– I didn't know this was the way to claim somebody as best friends, you know, I thought this bond was supposed to happen without we even notice.
– Well, it can happens too, but I guess I'm making this clear now.-thumbs up, you make him smile again.
You both keep talking the whole night until you two fell asleep on the table near each other company, your hand touching his, his fingers slightly caressing yours, you didn't felt anything, you sleep like a damn rock, however Spencer is an early person, so with less than two hours to get up and go to work, he sees you and his hand caressing your, when he's aware he stopped yet still looking your hands near each other, you mutter something under your sleep.
He is now aware that he's fully awaken.
He doesn't want to wake you up, but he died anyway shaking you.
-Hmmm.-you unconsciously pushed him away.-No more cases for today pleasee, I just want to watch a period movie and feel in luuuv.-you complained with a tired tone.-but I work work work work in a madness world of crime.
-Y/n..-he approaches you again.-Wake up, we gotta go to BAU, you need to change and I'll head home.
You wake up atartled by his close presence, he gives you a smile.
–Morning, agent...I mean, y/n.-he says close next to your face with a husky voice.
Oh lord J.
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pitconfirmbutton · 1 year
Text
what's in a last name | mick schumacher
pairing: mick schumacher x oc (maria senna)
was the schumacher-senna fight going to be as competitive the second time around?
word count: 4.5k words warnings: death of loved ones, motorsport accidents, anxiety
not super happy with this one but wanted to get it out for y'all. most likely will be a part 2 :)
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Ayrton Senna. Champion of 3 World Driver’s titles. Winner of 41 F1 Grand Prix. Holder of 65 pole positions. Driver for Toleman Motorsport, Lotus, McLaren and Renault. Father of one. 
That one being Maria Senna. That’s me. I was born in São Paulo, Brazil on the 1st of May 1999. 5 years to the day after my father had died going into Tamburello at the Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari circuit in Italy.
I know what you’re thinking, that math doesn’t make sense. You’d be correct. My mother, Adriane Galisteu and my father had decided to try for children in 1994 and were unsuccessful. Ayrton wanted to be a dad more than anything in the world and as such they organised for IVF, a sample being taken from both of them. The crash happened and my mother swore she would never have kids, unable to face the pain of seeing even a tiny bit of Ayrton in someone else, wishing to never be reminded of the loss of him.
Life went on and my mother decided that she wanted to instead honour Ayrton’s legacy and as such the samples were used and 8 months and 24 days later, I was born. Maria Clara Senna da Silva. However, for most of my life, I went by Maria Clara Galisteu, hiding in plain sight. I had grown up hearing about my father’s talents and achievements, watching all his races on television. My cousin, Bruno would watch with me, placing me in a laundry basket and giving me a plate to steer with, copying his onboard footage.
My mother disapproved vehemently, not wishing to watch another loved one enter motorsport and succumb to the same demise as Ayrton. She knew she could not stop me from wanting to honour my father and my love for what he did. As such I began karting at the age of 6, Bruno taking me to his old karting track in between his British Formula 3 season. I adored it and picked it up quickly, feeling my happiest with a radiator to my left and an engine to my right. No one in Brazil compared to my talent, except for my close friend and “teammate” Felipe Drugovich. I say teammate lightly, his father helping me as a mechanic at karting races when Bruno was away. 
Felipe and I got along like a house on fire, making our way to Europe together, both of us competing in Italian Formula 4 for the 2016 and 2017 seasons. It was here that I met some of my greatest friends; Marcus Armstrong, Juan Manuel Correa, Enzo Fittipaldi and Olli Caldwell.
It was also here that I met my biggest enemy, Mick Schumacher. I will be honest, but only because I’m telling you, I probably wouldn’t have hated him if it wasn’t for his last name. I was aware of my father’s battles with Michael, and this meant that I immediately held a grudge. I still remember him coming over to shake my hand, his bright red Prema hoodie making him impossible to miss. “Hey, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m Mick.” His hand suspended between us. “I know who you are,” was all I said, turning on my heels and walking back into the Van Amersfoort Racing trailer. “Spoilt brat” was all Mick whispered under his breath as I turned. I hadn’t told anyone who my father was and as such, I had no leg to stand on as to why I was angry at him. Chatting to Juan Manuel one day he had asked about Mick. “Why do you hate him so much?” I pushed my pasta around the bowl a bit. “I don’t hate him, he’s just so up himself.” “Wait, are we talking about the same person?” “Oh yeah, I forgot, it’s probably in your contract to protect the Prema golden boy.” “Give him a chance, Maria.” “No thanks.” 
I was meticulous, always the first driver to the track and the last one to leave. I would go over data for hours, spend time with my engineers and walk the track as much as I needed. I was a winner and I was a winner because I put in more work than anyone else. Although in 2016, I placed second, the first loser to my number one rival, Mick Schumacher. But in 2017, I won.
2018 brought on a move to the FIA Formula 3 Championship, staying with Van Amersfoort Racing. I kept my friends and I kept my discipline. The way I held myself, trained, practised and raced brought the attention of a few driver academies. Nothing would have prepared me for the email I received halfway through 2018, the header filled with papaya orange and the footer containing the speedy kiwi. “I am taking us home, dad.”
2018 involved me coming second… again, to Mick Schumacher… again. I was beyond annoyed but I was able to move up to Formula 2 for 2019, moving to Prema of all places, alongside Mick himself. I was peeved but I knew the car was fast and I knew I could ignore him like I had the last 3 years. He was not going to ruin this for me now. With my McLaren backing, I had a real shot to get to Formula 1, I needed these super license points and I was ready to do anything to get them.
“Do you ever have fun?” Mick had said as he entered our driver’s trailer, watching me highlight my data and analyse a different graph on my iPad. “It is fun, you’d find it fun too if you won more.” I quipped back. He scoffed and sat down next to me at the table. I slid my notes and data up into a pile and put it in my bag, turning to look at him, arms crossed and an unamused expression on my face. “Can I help you, Schumacher?” I straightened my back, making myself seem scarier than I was. “Yeah, you can actually! I want to know why you hate me so much! You are friends with everyone, except me. Why?” He looked exasperated, flailing his hands around in a way that I had never seen before from the usually composed and cool-headed German. “You are just so entitled, Mick! Using your last name to get you wherever you need to go! Showing it off to the world like it is something to be so smug about. You know some of us had to work to get here, right? On merit and hard work!” I had stood up, knocking my chair to the ground, pointing down at him. He stood to match me. “How dare you, Maria! I can’t help that I am my father’s son and I cannot help that I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to make it to where I am. But you know what, I would give it all up, in a single second, if it meant that I got to talk to my dad one more time. If I got to hear him say he loved me one more time. So yeah, I have the most powerful last name in Formula 1 history, but I wear it like a fucking badge of honour because every day I go out on track, I can only hope to be half the driver that he was. That is something that you will never understand.” He was breathing heavily, piercing me with his blue eyes. “You’re not the only one with a father who is no longer here, Mick” and with that I stormed out of the trailer, ready to run the track 2 more times to purge my brain of the conversation. 
I won that weekend, at the Hungaroring. A place my father had taken 3 wins in Formula 1. I smiled up at him on that podium, hoping that I was making him proud. I turned to my right, briefly looking at Mick, wondering if he thought the same thing every time he was on a podium too. I wondered if he was thinking about his dad’s four wins here in Hungary. I shook my head slightly, fighting to free the thought of how similar we were. I didn’t want us to be, but there was no denying it.
Five. That was the number. The number of wins that my father had taken here at Spa-Francorchamps. I was hoping to have my first. I knew Mick was too.
“Red flag, red flag, red flag!” My heart sunk. I had watched the two cars collide in my mirrors. The bright pink car turning to scattered pieces in less than a second. Being around motorsport for my whole life, I knew, I could tell. It was not good. And for the first time in my racing career, I realised that I couldn’t breathe. I’d never felt like this before. “Oh my god” was all my lungs could push out down the radio as I headed back to the pits. 
“Everything ok, Maria? Do you have a puncture? You are traveling quite slow but we can’t see anything here on the data.” I couldn’t answer, I could barely breathe and I felt like my world was going to collapse. The 1st of May 1995 had come flooding back to my mind, but this time, instead of my father, it was my friend, a good friend at that. In that moment, as I sat in my car, finally back in the pits, I experienced the grief of my father’s death 24 years ago. An event I never had to mourn until now.
I was suffocating and suddenly my suit was too tight, my harness felt like vines trying to pull me to hell and my helmet felt like it was trying to kill me, compressing my head. I was clawing at my neck, unable to find my zipper or my helmet strap with my gloves on but when I tried to remove them, my fingers didn’t move. I told them to and they didn’t. I realised in that moment that I had been screaming, the sound so muffled by my helmet and the roar of engines, the blast of sirens and the chatter of people. But then my neck didn’t feel as constricted and when I lulled my head, I was staring back at Mick. He flipped my visor up, the breeze stinging my tear stained face. “Let’s get you out of here, ok?” And with that, my harness was undone and I was lifted from my car. My legs gave way and my sobs were so much louder now, Mick propping me up as he rushed me through the garage to our trailer.
I didn’t stop crying once, I was babbling nonsense as Mick lifted me to sit on a workbench in our trailer. “Can you take your helmet off?” He had asked, looking straight into my eyes, watching the tears flow. I shook my head, no, I couldn’t, I couldn’t even think right now. It took me about 13 more restricted breaths before I realised that my vision was becoming blurred and I could no longer distinguish Mick’s freckles from his complexion. He turned to wave someone over but it didn’t matter, I was out.
My eyes fluttered open, squinting from the harsh light that shone from the trailer roof. I moved my limbs slightly, feeling the hard massage bed beneath me. Turning to my left, I saw Mick. He hadn’t seen me wake yet but as I looked closer, I began to notice just how badly he was doing. He had his head in his hands, his shoulders moving occasionally, soft sobs echoing through the room. He was now back in his Prema hoodie and tracksuit pants, I had clearly been out for a while. “Mick.” I was surprised that my voice was even audible. He looked up and my heart broke and for the first time, I saw a scared boy. He no longer towered over me, he crumpled where he sat and his usually rosy cheeks looked pale and tear-stained. “Hey” was all I got from him. I stood up to sit next to him, transferring my weight from the bed to the bench that I had been propped up on not so long ago.
“Was it Anthoine?” I couldn’t look at Mick, if I did, I would break all over again. “Yeah. Yeah, it was. I am sorry Maria, I know you guys were close.” I nodded, looking down at my lap. “What.. what happened to you on that in lap?” He finally faced me. I knew he would have asked, I was always so fierce and composed, my breaking down was unheard of. I tossed my options up in my head but when I turned to look at Mick, I knew then that he could have asked anything of me and I would have. His eyes were watery but kind, not how I remembered them to be before that, always so beady and harsh. His hand rested on mine, softly to test the waters but then his fingers curled encasing my hand in his. I had to tell him. It was only fair. I knew he would keep my secret, if only because he knew my pain. 
“My dad.” I was scared to say more than that but I knew it wasn’t enough to explain the situation. He surveyed my face, picking up on my need for him to continue the conversation. “It reminds you of your father’s passing?” He spoke timidly, without his confident facade, weary of upsetting me and ruining our first proper chance at friendship. I nodded in confirmation of his question. “He was a racer? He drove cars too?” Again I nodded, willing myself to finally speak any words. He smiled at my nod, resonating with the bond that children have with their father’s legacies. “Was he in NASCAR or Indy? Rally?” I could tell that Mick was racking his brain trying to place my surname. It was obvious that he knew all the F1 drivers and none of them shared my last name. “No. F1.” The way his head flicked towards me, trying to catch my eye to see if I was joking. I wasn’t. He was racking his brain for a question to ask, to confirm it. He wasn’t stupid, here was a Brazilian girl in front of him, the same age and there was only one possibility.
“Imola?” He leaned back, waiting for my reaction. I nodded. He didn’t react, just turned to look straight ahead, processing the information. “But, how could you be my age if-“ “IVF, yeah” I knew he would ask. He nodded again, seeing that it added up. “Does anyone know?” He turned to me again, his eyes softening. “No, no one, well except Bruno and my mother obviously. Not even Felipe does.” I sighed, it felt almost refreshing to be able to get this off of my chest and tell someone.
“I think in that car hearing the red flag called, that was the first time I properly grieved my father’s death. It had always seemed too far away and impossible but it happened again. I have never felt sadness like I have now.”
We sat together in silence until the team came and got us. It was only when Bruno, who had been acting as my manager during this time, gave me a weird look and I realised that Mick and I had been holding hands, finding comfort in one another as we processed the events of the day and the revelation I had dropped. Bruno’s look quickly softened when he realised just how upset I was, my eyes still watery and my skin pale. I thought at that moment, that I had hit rock bottom, that nothing would ever feel as painful as how my heart felt right there. But I think we both know that I wouldn’t be saying that if it was the case. Life has a way of kicking us when we are down and it kicked me hard.
Mick had messaged me throughout that week and over the next few races we had grown closer. Not friends just yet but we were amicable and I always felt his watchful eye on me. During interviews, training, conferences and racing I felt for the first time like I had someone ready to catch me if I fell. I showed my vulnerable side and through that, I had gained a confidante. He hadn’t told a soul of my secret and I was grateful. I suspected it was because he understood my desire to stay invisible, to be able to have the opportunity to rise through the ranks myself, a privilege, I realised, he never got. I had reflected on my comments towards him and had apologised, he knew now that I was merely projecting but I still felt bad.
The last race of the season was at Yas Marina, both F2 and F1 ending the 2019 season here. I was expected to win but I was only leading Mick in the championship by 7 points. It was close. I wanted to win and I hated all of the remarks from broadcasters and even my team of, ‘you can win the championship if he comes second and you get at least third, fourth or fifth’. I know they were trying to show me how possible it was, how I was right there, to win the championship in my rookie season and to be the first woman to win an F2 championship. I knew it settled my nerves, my engineer going over it all with me so that radio messages during the race made sense when comparing my results to Mick but I just wanted to be first. It was in my nature and no one would stop me.
As I walked through the paddock, my headphones in, the sound of rock pouring into my ears, I knew that I belonged here, stopping into the Mercedes garage, I quickly said hello to Lewis, who had been an avid support of mine, both on talent and my battle to overcome my diversity. He gave me a hug and a good luck and I was on my way again. As I walked the paddock, I became more and more aware of the eyes on me, engineers stopped what they were doing to point and whisper, broadcasters looking at me too. I was confused, obviously I was well known, I was leading the F2 championship currently but there had never been a reception like this, especially from the F1 teams who were always too busy (or too important) to care. I started my way back to the Prema motorhome, the stares starting to freak me out.
One second I was walking past a short alleyway between trailers and the next I was leaning against one, my shoulders being held and my eyes looking straight at Mick, his eyes filled with worry. The more I looked over him, the more I realised how dishevelled he looked, hair messy, face glowing with sweat and breathing heavily. “Mick, get off me. What is going on?” I stood up, straightening my hair with my hand. “I swear it wasn’t me. I would never do that to you. I promise. I’m so sorry and we will figure this out together. I’m by your side.” He muttered out, his ramblings so foreign compared to his usual composed and calm speech. “What are you talking about?” I hadn’t a clue what was going on. “Oh god. You haven’t heard yet, have you?” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping through an app before passing it to me.
“I’m so sorry, Maria. I needed to find you before anyone else did and let you know” His eyes were wide and his brows furrowed, pleading with me to believe him. My first instinct was to be mad at him, be so furious that I kicked and screamed and threw punches but I just knew it wasn’t him. If my teammate was anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed them but we had lived such similar lives, I knew he couldn’t betray me like that. “I believe you, Mick.” His shoulder tension dropping at my affirmation of his innocence. “What do I do now?” I was genuinely clueless. I had always had a plan in life, everything following as I had planned, but now… I had nothing. “Let’s go back to the garage and see what we can do next, Rene can handle this.”
My hands had never been as sweating as they were sitting in that conference room. I looked around the circular table, Rene, Mick, Bruno and then myself, that was it. “It’s true, Rene. I should have told you and I understand if you are mad but I really was just trying to make it on my own. I didn’t want to wear my father’s name like a label.” He nodded and smiled. “I know, Maria, I know. What do you want to come from this?” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand, giving me a sympathetic thin-lipped smile. He was like a father to me and what I imagined it would be like to have Ayrton around still, he was always pushing me, always wanting me to do more, but he was so proud of my achievements and wanted the best for me. “I don’t want to say anything until after the race. Please.” He nodded. “No media until after the race, you decide then what your answer to everyone’s question is. Same for you, Mick, no media.” He smiled and then let it drop, remembering that him being excused from media was because my identity was being leaked. It made me smile a little if nothing else. “Also, I have spoken to a few people around the team and apparently one of the mechanics leaked this to the press. He overheard you both talking after Spa and wanted to make some money off of this. I am truly sorry, Maria. He was been let go of immediately and if you would like, we can pursue legal action.” All I could do was nod, what was done, was done. But it was race time and I needed to focus.
In true Mick fashion, I had gotten a fist bump and a smile and good luck before the race. The Prema garage was tense but excited. No one knew what was about to happen but they were keen to find out, much like we were too. I won’t get into the final race, if you are reading this, then you probably know the results and if you don’t, have a look on F1TV, it wasn’t a bad race, although I may be pretty biased. All I can say is that, as I jumped from my car, parked behind the sign with a one printed on it, I was on top of the world. I wasn’t thinking about my father, about my team, about my mother back in Brazil… I was actually thinking about the person driving the car that pulled up behind number two. Who sprung out of their car like there was a fire and who picked me up and twirled me around like I weighed nothing. Up on the podium, as the Brazilian national anthem played, I looked to my right and wondered if Mick had the same thought as me, the next generation of Senna and Schumacher, the future greats battling it out on track.
“Yes.”
“Sorry Maria, what do you mean?”
“I know what you were about to ask me, yes.”
“We were trying to do the math before an-”
“IVF. Any other questions?”
“Is it true that you like the second-generation Schumacher more than your father liked the first?”
Looking over my shoulder, Mick was graciously completing interviews and my heart swelled. I wasn’t dumb. I had known all along that my projection of my own fatherly situation and my supposed hatred of him was to mask how I really felt. That the first day we ever met, when he came over, Italy coloured hoodie on and introduced himself, it had been love at first sight. Nothing had changed and looking at him now, chatting away with pride after just narrowly coming second in the championship, my heart felt the same love.
“He wishes.”
The next season, 2020, Mick had won the F2 championship and I was spending my time as the McLaren reserve driver, beside Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris, soaking in every detail I could and trying to honour my father’s legacy as much as possible. 2021 involved Mick in Alfa Romeo with Valtteri Bottas and myself now in the second seat at McLaren with Lando Norris. 
4 years with our teams, blood, sweat and tears both on and off track. A few pole positions and a few race wins, a few crashes and a few too many DNF’s (although if you ask me, 1 is too many). Our love grew and was tested daily but I knew that nothing was ever going to change how I felt about Mick. He was the smell of pine amongst the ice of Swiss mountains, he was the reflection the sun made on the sand underneath the shallow ocean water and he was the soft crackle that a fireplace made. He was my comfort and my support through everything. We were private but never secretive and I knew that if he asked me to give up racing, I would in a heartbeat but he never would, it wasn’t in his nature.
I looked up from my laptop, a soft knock rousing me from my work. “Are you writing right now? On your wedding day, oh my goodness, Maria, no!” Lily was standing there in her bridesmaid dress, hair curled and makeup on. “You need to get your dress on, Lewis, you were meant to be keeping her on track.” She gestured to the man lounging on a desk chair, who sprung into action at realising the time. “Shit, Maria, you need to get ready!” Lily rolled her eyes. “We are all ready to go, so dress on and let’s get you married, hey?” I nodded and slipped into my dress, Lewis helping when I called for him to do the zip for me. With my shoes on, I was ready to marry the love of my life. “He would be so proud of you, prodígio. I just know it.” I smiled back at him as we waited in the entrance room of one of the Schumacher ranch barns. Having converted the whole property for our wedding. White flowers adorned the area, small candles in jars and a line of luxury cars, it was us to a tee. 
As I met Mick at the end of the aisle, I had to tilt my head back, stopping the tears that brimmed. “You look utterly breathtaking, Liebling.” He was in awe and I felt more beautiful than I ever had. “You don’t look so bad too.” “Wait, is it going to be Schumacher-Senna or Senna-Schumacher?” He furrowed his brows together, wanting to make sure his vows were correct, I chuckled. “Take a guess, Mick. The Senna name won a championship first.” We giggled with each other before the minister started his speech. All I could do was look into those beautiful blue eyes and know everything would be okay.
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zafirosreverie · 11 months
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Little furry friend (Bruno x F!Reader) part 2
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For @hectic-hector (ily 💕)
Part 1
-----------------
"Julieta!! Do something about your sister!!"
The healer sighed and rolled her eyes fondly before turning to see Pepa effortlessly carrying Bruno into the kitchen. She knew that her brother justified that with the weight loss he had while living in the walls, but the three of them knew that Pepa had always had incredible strength and that she could lift both of them on each arm without breaking a sweat.
"Julieta!! Tell your brother to stop being a crybaby!!"
"I'm not a crybaby!"
"Yes you are!"
"Julieta!!"
"Okay, that's enough" the older one said, trying not to laugh at Bruno's pout when Pepa sat him down in a chair "what's going on?"
"Your sister is a nightmare"
"Your brother is an airhead"
"...okay, something else I don't already know?"
"HEY!!"
Julieta laughed at her siblings’ expressions and rolled her eyes again. Sometimes it was exhausting mediating their fights, but she truly loved them with all of her being and wouldn't have them any other way, no matter how many gray hairs they gave her in a day (definitely more than the six grandchildren combined).
"And you're supposed to be the good triplet?" Pepa crossed her arms with a pout.
"I always said that we should be careful with her, she has a mischievous glint in her eyes" Bruno whispered to the redhead
"So it's against me now?" the older one said, putting her hands on her hips "two seconds ago you were arguing for god knows what"
"oh yeah! You're right"
"Oh no, did you have to remind her?"
Bruno growled when a rainbow invaded the kitchen and Pepa got a little closer to her older sister, taking her by the hand like an excited child. It was always funny how Pepa could change her mood so quickly, especially when she was with her siblings, when she felt safe from being judged. But it wasn't as funny when he was the victim of her plans.
"Let's invite Y/N to dinner!"
"What?"
"We are NOT going to invite her to dinner, Pepa!"
"Why not? You already spend all day with her anyway, Bruno"
"It's different!"
"Why?!"
"Because you are not there to try anything"
"Excuse me?!" the redhead thundered "well sorry but someone has to take the next step if you're not going to do it yourself"
"There is no next step, Pepa, we are just friends!"
Julieta sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose as her siblings returned to a heated discussion that must have started long before they entered the kitchen. She could understand Bruno's anger or concern, and would usually agree with him that things should happen on their own.
The thing was, this time, she was on Pepa's side. It had been months since you showed up at the house with Bruno's rat in your hand and the whole family had been surprised at how well you got along with him. She had to admit that like her sister, she felt quite betrayed that he hadn't told them about you sooner, but she understood that he had a right to his privacy as well.
And if she was honest with herself, she was relieved at how well you treated her little brother. It wasn't common for townspeople to associate with him of their own free will, even after the candle fiasco, but you didn't seem to have any problem, you were kind to him, you treated him as an equal, and you were even one of the few people he felt comfortable enough about physical contact with.
Of course, the nervous mess he was when you were around him, or the blush that would always come over his face when you smiled at him, or the goofy smile he had all the time when you talked to him, didn't go unnoticed either. Dolores even confirmed that his heart raced every time he saw you or someone said your name. It was obvious to everyone that Bruno Madrigal was completely in love with Y/N Y/L/N, and would be cute, if it wasn't for him refusing to do anything about it.
Her brother was already exhausting the family's patience and even Casita had tried to intervene (which is why Bruno chose to go to your house instead of having you visit them). Julieta was really beginning to consider that they would have to take that step for him.
She snapped out of her thoughts when Pepa's thunder began to get louder. The kitchen began to be filled with black clouds and if she didn’t intervene soon, all her effort would be wasted due to the rain. However, she did not have time to do something when you popped your head through the window, with a small rat on your shoulder.
"Hi Juli!" You said, always smiling "What are you doing?"
Months ago, it would not even have occurred to you to be so open with her, but after the kind reception that the whole family had made, you could not help but feeling comfortable and happy every time you approached Casita.
"These two, always fighting" she returned the smile
"For the last arepa again?"
"No" she laughed, remembering the time Pepa almost threw a knife to Bruno when he took the last arepa, although she quickly calmed down when she saw that he had taken it for you "for something that Pepa wants Bruno to do"
"Ohhhh" you said, with curiosity in your eyes "What thing?"
She was about to answer when Antonio suddenly entered the kitchen. The boy smiled widely as soon as he saw you and ran to greet you. After Bruno, Madrigal's youngest son was the one who more time spent with you.
"Hello Y/N!"
"Hey Buddy!" You answered "Long time no seeing you"
"Yes, you didn't come for three days!" he pouted
"I'm sorry, I had things to do in the carpentry" you apologized
You did not even notice that the black clouds had disappeared, or that the Madrigal triplets were looking at you with curiosity, kindness and nervousness.
"It's okay" Antonio smiled at you "is just that the animals began to ask me where Uncle Bruno's girlfriend was" he shrugged
You felt your cheeks turning red, and you quickly looked where the seer was, a few steps behind his nephew. He did not look better than you, on the contrary, he looked pale and two seconds of fainting, while his sisters smirked and tried to hide their laughs behind their hands, although the rainbow that filled the room betrayed the redhead.
If you were honest, the idea itself was not bad. Actually, you had long accepted your feelings for the younger triplet, even if you didn’t plan to do something about it because you did not think the man returned your feelings. But now, seeing him so red and nervous, you committed to question it.
"S-she’s not my g-girlfriend" Bruno stuttered, resisting the impulse to hide with the hood of his Ruana
"She's not?" Antonio asked innocently
"No, I'm not" you replied
For a moment that seemed frozen in time, you could feel the eyes of the three adults on you, Pepa seemed disappointed, Julieta contained her breath and Bruno looked really defeated. That was what made you take a risk.
"Toñito, your uncle and I share Sebastián, remember?" you said gently
"Yeah?"
"That means we have a child together" you smiled with malice when you heard the triplets gasps "I am not his girlfriend, I am his wife"
"W-what?!"
Pepa and Julieta laughed at their brother's complete shock, and you couldn't help noticing how adorable it was. But then, as if he was a statue, he fell backwards, harshly hitting against the ground.
".... ooops" you said.
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pensat-i-fet · 1 year
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Something I’ll regret (Rúben Dias x Reader)
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**A little angsty request. I hope you all like it ❤️❤️ **
Word count: 2583
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“Do you have any plans for today?”
“Yeah, I have to go to Bruno’s for an interview”, I tell my boyfriend Rúben while we have some breakfast. I’m not really looking forward to today but I can’t escape it either.
“Why do you have to be there for his interview?”
“It’s what the tv channel asked for”, I shrug.
I often have to be around for these types of interviews. People love it when famous people are related and I happen to be the cousin of one of Portugal’s biggest football stars. And I’m also dating another one of their stars…but we haven’t made that public yet.
“At least I get to just be there with the kids and hang out for a bit while they ask him things and I say two words. Could be worse”.
“Poor you”, he laughs.
“Well, it’s time I could spend with you instead of doing that”.
“Poor me, then”.
“I don’t have to leave just yet”, I say, giving him a wink.
                                    **
When I get to my cousin’s house, it’s his wife Ana who opens the door.
“Hi! You’re early. Come in”.
“Thanks. Are the kids back from school?”
“No, they’ll be here soon. They wanted to go play with some friends and their mum will bring them back here in a bit. I love your dress, by the way! You look stunning”.
“Thank you”, I say, blushing slightly. “Rúben bought it for me the other day, actually”.
“Take notes, Bruno!”
I can’t help but laugh when I see my cousin’s face.
“Thanks for that, Dias”, he mutters. “Ready for the interview? I told them not to ask about your personal life but you know how they are”.
“Yes, I’m ready. I guess”.
Being part of a small ballet company in Portugal doesn’t turn one famous. Having a famous boyfriend does. And when the press found out that the dancer who was dating a famous actor happened to be the cousin of a famous footballer, they just didn’t leave me alone. I went from having the most normal life to being followed by the paparazzi everywhere I went. I hated every second of it.
That relationship, thankfully, it’s over. And I promised to myself to never date someone famous again. My life was a lot simpler when no one knew who I was. But then I met Rúben when I visited Bruno after a Portugal match and…well, he made keeping that promise really hard.
At least he understands I want us to be private. 
“There they are”, says Ana.
“The kids?”
“No, the journalists”.
Time to do this then.
                                       **
“And where is your beautiful cousin?”, I hear one of the reporters ask.
“She’s over there, playing with my kids. She’s their favourite cousin”.
When I see the cameras pointing at us, I move so the kids aren’t shown too much on camera.
“Hi!”
“Hello. How is life in England?”
“It’s alright. I love being here with some of my family”.
I expect the next question to be about work. I have moved on to other projects ever since I quit dancing, but no. Of course, the next question is about the same old topic.
“Anyone you met here that makes you want to stay? You know…as in a new love?”
“She doesn’t like talking about that”, interrupts Bruno. 
“Yeah, I rather keep those things private. Sorry”.
“Of course, after what happened the last time…”.
By that, he means when my ex cheated on me and the whole country found out. Yes, that makes me want to be more private. But these people don’t get it.
“We’ll go play in the garden. Have a good rest of the interview”.
                                   **
Days later, I get to Rúben’s and find him watching Bruno’s interview.
“Why are you watching that?”
“I wanted to see you”.
“I’m right in front of you now, you can’t stop watching it”, I laugh.
“And…I also wanted to see what you were asked. You were in a bad mood after it and I was a bit worried when you didn’t want to talk about it”.
“Just the same thing they always ask”.
My mood isn’t the only one that changes after my words. I can see Rúben looking uncomfortable.
“What is it?”
“Nothing”, he says.
“Rúben, come on”.
“It’s just…I get why you want us to be private but if you said you have a boyfriend, they’ll leave you alone”.
“Are you really that naive?”
“Whatever. Whenever we talk about this, you just get all defensive”.
“Because you don’t get it, Rúben. And this wouldn’t just affect us. It could affect my cousin too”.
I know Rúben wants to say more. It’s written all over his face. But once again, he’s the one who stops before we say something we regret and just changes the topic.
A couple of hours later, while we are watching a movie, my mind goes back to our argument. I don’t think he’s right but maybe it’s worth a try. Maybe if I just say that I’m seeing someone, they’ll leave me alone. Ugh! I hate how complicated all of this has to be.
                                     **
One of the reasons why I’m staying in Manchester, apart from Rúben and my family, is that Bruno got me a small job at United. Every couple of weeks, I help the players with their recovery. They are a great bunch of guys, and there are a lot of Portuguese speakers in the team too. So overall, it’s a lot of fun and I get to earn a bit of extra cash, which is always nice. 
Their social media team likes to film little bits of the sessions to put on youtube. And for the last few, it’s become a bit of a tradition for the players to annoy me after the sessions. Those little clips are shared by all the fans. They love them. And I know it's just banter so I don’t mind. 
“Fans! Say thank you to our favourite teacher. We wouldn’t have won the Carabao Cup without her help”, says Dalot to the camera.
I just shake my head before my cousin takes Dalot’s arm off my shoulders. “Leave some space between your favourite teacher and yourself, Diogo”.
But his teammate just laughs at that comment and looks at the camera again. “Guys. He’s doing that so you all stop making up rumours about which one of us she’s dating. Captain Fernandes wouldn’t allow any of us to do it so there you go”.
I’m trying to leave when Antony joins the conversation.
“Ok, no one from United but what about the national team? Would you allow that, Bruno?”
That comment stops us from walking to look at Antony. What does he know?
Dalot, who knows about Rúben and I being together, is the first one to react. “What do you care, mate? You play for Brazil”.
“Just wondering”, he shrugs.
“He wouldn’t allow that either”, I say, leaving the room.
My reason for saying that is to avoid people looking at the Portugal team when I finally say that I have a boyfriend. But not everyone understands it that way.
                                     **
“Hello? Rúben?”
The apartment looks really dark despite not being that late, but I can hear some noise, so Rúben has to be home.
When I get closer, I realised that what I hear isn’t the tv, but the conversation I had with the boys only hours ago when I was in Carrington.
“He wouldn’t allow that either”, I hear coming out of Rúben’s phone. Of course, they added that clip to the video.
“Hey!”
“I’m trying to understand you, but I might give up”.
“What are you talking about?”
He sits up on the sofa and points at his phone.
“Are you embarrassed by me? By our relationship? Is that it?”
“What? No, Rúben. Why would I be?”
“I don’t get it. Why did you have to add that? You could have ignored that question but no, you couldn’t help it”.
“Yes, you don’t get it”, I say, tired of his accusations. “I just said it so when I say I have a boyfriend, they don’t go look at everyone my cousin knows first. That way we can stay private for longer”.
“We’ll never talk about our relationship if it was up to you. It’s one thing to be private but this is too much. I’m afraid of saying anything just so you don’t freak out. And it’s getting really boring, you know?”
“Well, it’s not as if you’re talking about your love for me every day, is it?”, I hate the bitterness of my words so much, but can’t control it.
“You don’t allow me to talk about us!”
“Is that really the reason? Or do you just don’t mention me because it’s better for you if people think you’re still single?”
I know I’ve gone too far the moment the words leave my mouth. I’m such an idiot.
“Get out”.
“Rúben, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”.
“Get out now. Before I also say something I regret”.
And knowing he’s right, I leave. Head down, ashamed and worried about having messed up what Rúben and I have.
                                     **
The only place I can go is my cousin’s. And when he opens the door and sees my face, he understands something is wrong and lets me in without asking why I’m there.
“Do you want to talk about it?”, he says when he brings me a cup of tea.
“I messed up”.
“How? And I’m assuming we talk about Rúben, right?”
“Yes”, I sigh. “He watched the video United uploaded today and didn’t like that I said you wouldn’t let me date a teammate from the national team either”.
“I’ll talk to the boys so they stop pestering you with those questions”.
“Bruno, it’s not about them. I’m the problem. I keep hurting my boyfriend because I refuse to talk about our relationship. It’s me that needs to change. No one else. I can’t hide behind other people’s actions any longer”.
“Why do you do that? Refusing to talk about it. I respect your decision but you guys have been together for a while now. I expected you to have gone public months ago. And you know I’ve supported you since the beginning, so that can’t be it”.
Why am I doing this? Fear, simple as that.
“I don’t want a repeat of last time. And if people don’t know about us, then it can’t happen”.
“I get it, but it’s not really fair to Rúben, is it?”
But before I have time to say something, little Gonçalo runs towards his dad, asking for a hug. And so my cousin has to take him back to bed and do their little routine again.
I take my phone and end up on Rúben’s Instagram profile. When I see he’s uploaded a story, I can’t help but click on it. It’s actually a link to a post in the City profile and I go see what it is about.
It turns out he did some sort of Q&A for the team. He was asked about his fitness routine, and his favourite food, …and then I realise I’m a bigger idiot than I already thought.
To the question of what he likes doing in his free time, he answered “spending time with my girlfriend”. And as if that wasn’t painful enough to hear, I go to the last one. My cousin enters the room just as I’m listening to Rúben say “who inspires me the most? My girlfriend”. 
I throw the phone away and put my hands on my face. 
“I’m an asshole”.
                                    **
Despite wanting to run to Rúben’s the moment I watched those stories, I don’t. I know he needs time to be angry at me. He has every right to be. I just hope he can forgive me. 
“When are you talking to him?”, asks Ana.
“Later. After his training. I want to give him some time to be alone”.
“Probably a good idea. He’ll be hurt after what happened”.
I volunteer to take the kids to school. I could use the distraction and they know how to cheer me up, making me sing songs on the way to school or playing games that have to be cut short because the drive there isn’t that long. But I promise them we’ll continue playing later.
When I finally go to see Rúben, I fear he might not be there. But after a second knock on the door, he opens it.
“I’m sorry”.
He doesn’t respond but leaves the door open so I can go inside.
“Rúben, I shouldn’t have said that”.
“No, you shouldn’t have”.
I sit next to him and try to hold his hand, expecting him to take it away. But he doesn’t. He lets me hold it and that small gesture gives me so much hope.
“You know what happened with my ex. The worst part wasn’t the cheating, but the fact that everyone knew. Because all the headlines and covers were about me. Me looking sad, me going out with friends despite people expecting me to be sad, …me me me. Everyone wanted to humiliate me. And I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to date anyone famous ever again”.
“I understand that”.
“I know you do. And I took advantage of you because of it. I forced you to do as I said because I knew you didn’t want to hurt me. And I was really unfair”.
“I wish I could say I disagree”.
“I get it, Rúben. And I’m sorry. So sorry. Can you try to forgive me?”
He looks up at me and I squeeze his hand harder without noticing I’m doing it. I’m really that scared of him saying he can’t forgive me. I can’t lose him.
“Only if you change. I’m happy having a private relationship but I can’t live constantly worried about saying something that uncovers the secret. I want to be able to mention you, even if I don’t say your name. This whole thing is exhausting. And…I know a part of you didn’t want us to go public because you are afraid I could do what your ex did. And while I get it, it hurts to know you think that of me”.
I try to avoid his eyes but he doesn’t allow me, holding my chin so I look at him.
“Tell me I got it wrong”.
“You didn’t”, I confess. “I would feel the same with anyone. I guess that’s what happens when you’re cheated on once. But I trust you. Really. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t. And I also wanted to protect you”.
“From what?”
“People creating drama between my cousin and you”.
“Let us worry about that, ok? We can protect ourselves well”.
I hesitantly move closer to Rúben, and when he allows me to do that, I put my arms around his waist. I missed being this close to him.
“I’ll change. I’ll stop being so worried and afraid about people knowing about us”, I tell him, meaning every single word. “And I trust you. Honestly. I won’t make you feel again like I don’t. Because you don't deserve it”.
“That’s all I needed to hear”.
“Am I forgiven?”, I ask, looking up at him and when I see him moving closer to kiss me, I can’t help but smile.
“You know I can’t stay mad at you long. And yes, you’re forgiven”.
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