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#in will's eyes despite this all being a secret that he now has no plan of revealing outright to mike

daycourtofficial · 3 months

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A Valentine’s Surprise

Summary: a member of the inner circle asks you to be their valentine, despite you being mated to someone else

Author’s note: this is pretty short, but I thought it’d be really cute and I love Nyx

“Excuse me, everyone.”

Everyone at the table stops their chatter as Nyx stands on his chair, his little voice unwaivering as he draws the attention of his family consisting of his parents, Cassian, Azriel, Nesta, Mor, and you.

“I have an announcement.”

You all look on in confusion and curiosity, wondering what the young prince would deem so important. He does this about once a week now - interrupting dinner to declare something to everyone. Last week it was to inform everyone that Cassian had farted next to his face, causing Cassian to argue, “it’s not my fault your face is at bum level.”

The night derailed from there, the warlord getting quite worked up over the accusations of a five year old until the two were wrestling on the floor.

Nyx clears his throat, looking to his mother for approval to continue. Feyre gives him a nod of encouragement, mouthing the words “go on” to him. He takes in a deep breath and says, “I’m in love.”

Feyre smiles at him, clearly aware of where his little speech is going. Rhys perks up, amusement in his eyes at Nyx’s confession. The table falls even more silent in curiosity. The princeling looks to you before continuing, “I love you, (y/n). Will you be my valentine?”

You spit out your wine, and Azriel’s hand that was covertly wrapped around your thigh tightens slightly. You grab your napkin, dabbing at the wine you spilled on your dress. You can’t help the smile on your face at how nervous Nyx looks, and you can’t hold back the grin as he winnows a rose into his hand, holding it out to you.

“Nyx, I’m honored that you would ask me.”

You try to figure out how to let the young prince down without telling everyone of your secret mateship with Azriel. The two of you were keeping your mating bond a secret because you didn’t want to deal with the ordeal it would cause and wanted the peace to navigate it. And then you two just kept delaying mentioning it.

Unfortunately for Nyx, the two of you had plans that evening to celebrate the holiday to hide out in a cabin and you wouldn’t want the little heir to ruin them.

“Why do you want me to be your valentine?”

Nyx smiles at you, “because I get all warm and fuzzy inside when I see you.”

Your face crumpled at his sweet words, his love for you showing in his toothy grin, a few teeth missing from his smile. The adorable spectacle makes you miss Cassian grumbling, “why doesn’t anyone ask me to be their valentine?”

“How can I say not to that adorable face?”

Azriel’s grip tightens, and you place your hand on top of his, gently rubbing it. Reminding him that his instincts can calm down over a five year old.

“What does being your valentine entail, sweet Nyx?”

The little boy’s wings flutter at your attention, “we’ll have ice cream!”

“I like ice cream. Is that all?”

He preens under your gaze, looking exactly the way his father does whenever Feyre looks at him affectionately. He leans in conspiratorially, covering his mouth with his hand that does nothing to keep his words from being heard by everyone, before whispering, “you can hold my hand through Velaris.”

“Nyx I wonder if our darling (y/n) has other valentine’s plans.”

Nyx looks to you, heartbreak on his tiny face that the woman he loved would dare see another male. Azriel shoots daggers over your head at his brother, realizing the two of you hadn’t been as secretive as you thought at Rhys’s feline grin. Rhys mocks a toast of his glass towards you two, causing Az’s scowl to deepen.

“Well Nyx, nobody’s asked to take me out for ice cream on Valentine’s day, so I will be more than glad to go with you to get ice cream.”

The little boy beamed the rest of the evening, and as he totted off to bed he was telling his father all about what he was going to wear when you two went out. He even gave you a color scheme so your outfits could coordinate.

You and Azriel retired separately, so as not to raise suspicions. You were brushing your hair at your vanity when his shadows allowed him to emerge in your room, where he immediately began walking towards you.

Meeting your gaze in the mirror, his eyes are full of amusement, thinking about how he has to share the woman he loves, his mate, with a child he could drop kick into the clouds.

“You are stunning, my dear, surely you must have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

He starts kissing your cheek, making his way down your neck, causing you to giggle while you reply, “I have plans with another male for the afternoon on Valentine’s day, but I suppose I could pencil you in while he’s taking his nap.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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angelsworks · 8 months

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A Scarab Knows Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle) x reader

Summary: Times when the scarab on your boyfriends back caught you in a lie.

Warnings: Smut, angst, insecure!reader, talks of period, 18+

Moodboard credit goes to @your-yandere-kiss They’ve got so many other great moodboards. I’d definitely recommend you check them out if you like that sort of thing.

DC Masterlist

It took a while to get used to the scarab. Khaji Da was not what you were expecting Jaime to reveal after a couple of months of dating. Your boyfriend was so nervous as he explained the ancient alien that held the power of the blue beetle that had bonded to his back. At first you had no response. Then you wanted to see it to which Jaime happily obliged.

Your eyes found the shiny blue shell of the beetle in line with Jamie’s shoulder blades. Call it morbid curiosity that lead you to reaching out and gently tracing part of the scarab. When red eyes opened and glowed along the scarabs elytra in response you jumped back in surprise. The action causing Jaime to jump up and away from you.

He didn’t say anything, instead staring almost blankly at something behind you. An action you’d found him doing throughout your relationship. Only now did you realise it was because of Khaji Da.

Finally he spoke, “I think it likes you.”

From then on things got better with Jamie. There were no secrets between the two of you anymore and you could continue your relationship in peace. Well almost in peace. The scarab on his back was to blame for that.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Khaji Da, it’s just that it was almost like another person you had to share your boyfriend with. A person that was with him all the time. A person that he has secret talks with. A person that he fought crime with.

You weren’t jealous. Jaime was yours and Khaji Da had no interest in him like that. It was just hard getting used to being in a relationship with Jaime and now Khaji Da. After telling you about his scarab Jaime could talk to it more openly, without you thinking he was strange. Sometimes you’d be with Jaime watching a movie and he’d answer a question you hadn’t asked. Or other times you’d be looking for something you’d lost and he’d blurt out it’s location, claiming Khaji Da had told him.

Khaji Da wasn’t all bad, in fact it treated you kindly and as a valued person to Jaime. Over time it too became protective like Jaime towards you. A gesture you found sweet. Well mostly sweet.

One evening you saw the positives to the scarab on your boyfriends back.

The day you’d had was one for the history books. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. This morning you overslept for class meaning you had to rush out the door. In class you realised you left your paper you’d been working on at your home. After class you went to your job at a local restaurant. A job that on a good day would wear you down and drain your social skills. But on a bad day? It was unimaginable. To add to it you started your period mid shift, unprepared of course.

Finally at the end of the day you remembered the plans you had to stay over at your boyfriends apartment. Despite feeling anything but happy, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed your tears back as you greeted him. You hugged him tightly and kept up your facade. Engaging in small talk about your day and your class. Purposely leaving out or brushing over the majority of bad bits.

Jaime was buying the facade of course and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you hadn’t been dating for long and he hadn’t learnt you yet. However Khaji Da had, or to some extent it had.

A quick body scan had revealed your true feelings. Your low mood, recently working tear ducts and uterus walls cramping. All of which was relayed to Jaime whose face quickly took to looking crestfallen.

“Mi Vida, why would you lie to me?” Jaime asks softly. Pulling you from beside him on the couch to his lap.

You look at him startled. Unable to form words or even think of a coherent answer. But he waits for one. Even though it takes a few beats of silence.

“What - how do you know?” You ask him perplexed.

His tongue swipes out over his lips, “Khaji Da scans almost everyone I meet. It makes a habit of scanning you especially.”

You nod slowly, letting the new information sink in. You wonder just how much Khaji Da knows about you. You wonder how much information it passed on to Jaime each time you met. Was this the first time it caught you out in a lie, or just the first time Jaime chose to bring it up.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my bad day Jaime. You seemed so happy. I just wanted to enjoy being with you today.”

Jaime sighed and held you impossibly closer. Rubbing your back as you let out a few tears.

“Nothing you tell me would burden me. I love you so much Cielo.” Jaime whispers in your ear.

“Cielo?” You ask, unsure of the endearment.

“It means sky or heaven. That’s what you are to me. Nothing my Cielo tells me burdens me. You are my world, Mi Vida.”

Although Khaji Da’s interference worked out this time, it didn’t always. One time in particular didn’t end well with Jaime.

It was just past nine when your eyes glanced over to the clock on the bedside lamp. Jaime had been pounding into you for what felt like hours. He’d been out all evening doing something for Kord industries. The topic a sore one as you knew of the previous feelings he felt for Jenny.

You tried to put your feelings aside and remember that Jaime was with you now, not her. Your efforts hadn’t been good enough as Khaji Da and Jaime had seen right through it. Leaving him no choice but to show you just how much he loved you.

Yet the hurried passion between you hadn’t given you the stimulation you needed to reach your climax even once. There was little foreplay and things unraveled and quickly lead to him being deep inside you.

At one point you’d moved your fingers to your clit, trying to gain something to take you over the edge. Jaime, thinking you were acting up as you often did with him (in dynamic of course) removed your hand and pinned it with your other above your head. He gave you a gentle kiss and whispered some dirty words in your ear.

“Are you close?” He panted, still hammering into you. You thought about saying no, then wondered what he would think. You started to feel insecure in the fact that your orgasm was taking so long. So you decided to pretend.

It wasn’t something you’d ever had to do before but once wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You moaned out a reply and started your act. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, praising your partner for his work, clenching your walls on his cock. It wasn’t long before he followed you. Stilling inside you before reaching his own.

After pulling out slowly and kissing your temple he rolled over, having a moment before getting a wash cloth for you.

Silence hung in the air. Comfortable silence of course, but silence non the less. Jamie’s hand found yours, holding it gently as he often did.

Some time passed before his grip changed and became tighter. He turned on his side and looked at you accusingly.

“You faked it?” He asked, a little hurt but mostly angry.

Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heating up. “Jaime it’s not like that, you know I wouldn’t - ”

“But you did, or else Khaji Da wouldn’t have brought it up.”

You let out a huff, “Why does it matter. I’m sure it happens to plenty of couples all the time. I’m fine. Your fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You move to roll over only to be pulled back by an angry Jaime. You’d never seen him this annoyed before about something you’d done. Usually you couldn’t put a foot wrong with him. He thought everything about you was great. It would be a lie to say his anger didn’t make you guilty about being dishonest.

“It matters because your my girlfriend. We aren’t just another couple. And while I’ve got working fingers, a working tongue and a working cock I have no excuse not to make you cum.” He tells you in earnest, putting his anger aside for a minute.

Although the sentiment is there, his wording isn’t. Jamie’s right, everything about him works. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to make you cum. It’s you that’s the problem and that same insecurity creeps back in once more. Making you doubt if there was something wrong with you. Making you remember why you lied in the first place. You didn’t want him to think less of you.

“So why Mi Vida, why lie to me? You know I love you.”

You huff again but this time it’s more pitiful as you feel your throat tightening. “It’s not you Jaime, it was me. It just wasn’t happening. I don’t know if I needed more foreplay or something. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong. Please let’s just go to sleep.” You practically beg. The warmth in your face ever increasing from the embarrassment you now feel.

As he understands your words he feels his anger dissipate. “There is nothing wrong with you Cielo, I should have done more before you know, going inside you. It was rushed. But you need to know that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I love making you cum.”

You smile, leaning over to kiss Jaime. Who responded eagerly almost trying to make up for lost time. Showing you that there was nothing wrong with you at all.

“Let me show you how much I love doing it Mi Vida.”

You could only nod as your boyfriend spent the rest of the night doing everything he could to make you cum.

By the time he’d done you’d finished a record number of times and had forgotten any ill will you’d felt towards Khaji Da. It turned out to be quite useful.

#angelsworks post #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader #jaime reyes #Jaime Reyes x reader #khaji da

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

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NO LONGER IN DENIAL

masterlist

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader, bestfriend!benedict bridgerton x reader

description: anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

warnings: angst, jealous!anthony cos i’m a sucker for him hehe, benedict being a shit stirrer who i adore, fluffiness at the end <3

“Lady Y/N is joining us for dinner this evening, I believe,” Benedict hummed, a small smirk gracing his face as the eldest Bridgerton’s head snapped up, “Mother told me she hopes to, anyway.”

Anthony watched as his sisters fussed excitedly over seeing you, for it had been at least a week since you had graced Aubrey Hall with your presence and they missed you dearly.

Anthony had too, of course, though he’d never admit it was for any reason beyond how highly regarded you were in his family and how much he enjoyed your friendship.

“I very much look forward to seeing her,” Benedict continued, still smirking devilishly, “Though I did have the pleasure of bumping into her as she left Modiste yesterday.”

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, “You didn’t tell me that, brother.”

“Must I share every occasion I see Lady Y/N with you, Anthony?” he quipped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest as Colin stifled a laugh, well aware of what was going on, “One might think you jealous.”

“Jealous? You jest, brother. She is my closest friend, I am simply surprised you would not mention even in passing that you saw her,” Anthony spoke through gritted teeth, “Regardless, I look forward to seeing her.”

“Ah, perfect timing!” Francesca grinned as Lady Y/N’s arrival was announced moments later, and in you walked with a gloriously bright smile on your face, though this faltered as you saw the bitter look on Anthony’s face.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” you asked shyly, taking a few steps towards Anthony, whose expression softened at this, “Have we chosen a bad day to visit? If so I apologise—,”

Suddenly Benedict was at your side now, “It’s quite alright, my dear Lady Y/N. We are all pleased to see you. Might we take a turn about the room? We have some things to discuss!”

“No fair! You saw her yesterday, I want to show her my embroidery,” Hyacinth pouted, though Benedict raised his brow at her and flickered his eyes in Anthony’s direction as if to explain his actions.

Everyone in the family was well aware of the affection shared between you and Anthony, even if he dared not admit how he felt because of his apparent desire not to marry.

Benedict believed he just needed a push to see that you had myriad other options, and that he could only push away his feelings for so long.

“I’m sure Benedict has something important to share, my dear Hyacinth, but I would love to see your embroidery promptly after,” your voice was like honey to the eldest Bridgerton, who fought off the desire to make his own request for a moment of your time, “There is enough of me to go around! My brother will be arriving shortly, also.”

Benedict began whispering almost as soon as you had crossed the room, endeavouring to make you well aware of his plan so as not to cause any discomfort to you.

He didn’t wish for you to be confused by his sudden flirtation, so immediately indulged you with the details of his concocted plan to induce jealousy in his older brother that might finally allow him to be honest about his feelings.

With some hesitation, you accepted his plan.

Benedict was well aware of your feelings for his brother, and you knew this — after all, you had confessed it to him yourself because you trusted him dearly. Much to Anthony’s dismay, nowadays Benedict was your closest friend of all.

Anthony had once filled that role, but as each year passed and your youth slipped away, you had fallen far too in love with him to be so satisfied with a friendship as you were with Benedict.

Benedict was your best friend — Anthony was the love of your life.

Though he did not admit it, you were the love of his too. This is why Benedict’s interference was so necessary as far as the second Bridgerton son was concerned.

It was unfair for you to believe your love unrequited when it was merely his stubborn refusal to see beyond his ‘duty’ as Viscount and head of the household that prevented him from giving in to his feelings.

The plan seemed already to be working by the time you were seated for dinner, far closer to Benedict than to Anthony who sat at the other side of the table.

He scowled as he watched his brother gossiping with you, still irritated by both his earlier remark about seeing you yesterday and his persistence with being the only person in the room to maintain your attention.

“It is working, my dear friend,” Benedict beamed across at you, leaning forward to both better execute his plan and so that you could hear him better, “If looks could kill, my brother would have seen me long since dead and buried.”

You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding the giggle that escaped as you waited to calm before looking across at Anthony, “Benedict!”

You drew in a deep breath, composing yourself before glancing across at the Viscount and catching his eye immediately. His glare was suddenly no more, his lips curling up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You mouthed a small “Hello,” to him, blushing crimson at the intensity of his stare. Despite the conversation going on around him, all he could do was look at you.

The staring contest you seemed to find yourself in was swiftly broken by Benedict’s voice calling your name again, returning you to conversation with him.

The rest of dinner passed much the same — small conversations here and there with the other Bridgertons, longing stares from an increasingly restless Anthony, and teasing comments from Benedict, who was certain that Anthony would be confronting you tonight.

“We should probably call for our carriage, I suppose,” you smiled sadly, disappointed with both how quickly the night had passed by and the fact you’d hardly spoken to Anthony throughout, “I’ve had such a lovely evening. I only wish I could stay longer!”

“You could!” Anthony exclaimed, an unusual outburst for the eldest sibling but one that made all at the table laugh as he rose to his feet, “We could have a room put up for you. It is late, and Wellsbury Hall is quite the distance.”

You bit your lip, smiling at him as he sat back down again, “Oh we couldn’t trouble you with that, my lord.”

“Perhaps my dear friend is right,” your brother disagreed, “It is getting late, and if it is no trouble we would be incredibly grateful. And I hope we might repay you with an invitation to Wellsbury in the near future? I hope to host a ball before the season ends so that my darling sister might finally find a husband.”

His eyes flickered between Benedict and Anthony for a moment and you realised that he must have been in on Benedict’s little plan.

You looked around the room cautiously at every smiling face, before settling your gaze on Anthony with a nod, “Very well then. I’d be delighted. The many childhoods spent staying here overnight are often much missed.”

Lady Bridgerton grinned, “Fantastic. Then it is settled,” she turned to the maids stood by the door, “Please prepare two rooms for our guests as quickly as possible. It is, after all, late, and I’m sure they will soon wish to rest.”

The way Anthony watched you for the rest of dinner made you impossibly nervous.

When the maids told you which rooms were readied, you stood to retire to bed, but not before Benedict offered to show you to the room as it was in his opinion the best decorated.

“Brother, I don’t believe it’s appropriate for you to show Lady Y/N to her room,” Anthony huffed, having had enough now of him being stuck to you like heavy-duty glue, “Perhaps you should allow one of our maids to kindly do so.”

“It is quite alright, Anthony. We are in the comfort of our own home, and I know Y/N quite well enough,” Benedict sing-songed, “Unless you would prefer to show her? The maids are quite busy clearing up.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched at his brother’s comment about knowing you ‘quite well enough’ and so he found himself at your side quickly.

“In fact yes, perhaps I should,” he agreed, a sternness in his tone you’d become used to again today. He was so much gentler with you, but today with you so seemingly far from him he has grown stoic again, “After all, I am the head of this household and you have not let me spend a minute with my closest friend, hm?”

Colin interjected now, aware of all eyes on the conversation, “Perhaps Lady Y/N can make the decision herself?”

“I—,”

“Fine, I concede,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender, “I suppose I’ve not let her leave my side this evening, though you cannot fault me for that. I will bid you goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight brothers.”

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for just the gentlest of kisses to the back of it, before he bowed and quickly left the room.

With Anthony facing the other way, towards you, Benedict turned to shoot you a wink before leaving, and nerves bubbled in your gut at the unknown of what was to come.

The kiss to your hand was the final straw for Anthony, who linked his arm with yours and lead you out of the room without another word to anyone else.

You were silent for the walk, but once you stopped still outside of the room you were to sleep in Anthony turned to stand in front of you, his breathing jagged as his eyes searched your face for clues to why he was feeling so furious at your friendship with Benedict.

“Is my brother courting you?” he came right out and asked it, his chest heaving and yours doing so now too as you shook your head.

“Not at all, my lord,” you bit your lip again, before looking down at the ground to avoid his gaze.

He brought his index finger to your chin, lifting your face so that you were forced to look at him again, “And do you wish him to be?”

Again you shook your head, but his finger never left your skin for a moment.

“I was so sure—,”

“Forgive me, my lord, I have just been finding comfort in his friendship of late as I see him regularly about town,” you frowned, suddenly even more conscious of how little time you spent with Anthony in recent weeks.

He leaned ever so slightly closer, “Finding comfort in his friendship? And what of ours?”

“Our friendship, my lord? I—,”

“I apologise, Y/N, but I do not like to see you so close with my brother. Not least because of the fear of a scandal if others saw his behaviour,” he gritted his teeth, “He touches you too often. Leans too close to speak with you and it… it is misleading.”

You gulped, “Why would you be so infuriated by the notion of him courting me, my dear Anthony? He is your brother, and he cares for me. Even if it is not him I wish did so.”

He cocked his head in confusion now, before his eyes widened in realisation of his brother’s scheming. And in considering that, he realised that it had worked.

He’d never wanted to marry, and especially never for love.

But with you stood right there at his finger tips, smiling up at him nervously with a twinkle in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind and realised that you had changed that in him.

He could no longer deny his desire to hold you, to have you entirely as his, to make you his Viscountess.

“Who do you wish to treat you as such, my lady?”

“Surely you can see the answer for yourself, Anthony.”

“I simply wish to hear you say it. But if I must do so first, as a consequence of my foolishness in not seeing it sooner, then so be it. I dislike your closeness to my brother because I miss your attention being mine. I wish to have you at my side always, to laugh with you and dance with you and just talk with you all evening. I do not wish to see Benedict court you because I wish to do so myself.”

“Anthony—,”

“Please, my love, let me finish. I have most probably been in love with you for as long as I have known you, and yet chosen not to see it out of my own stubbornness. If not for my scheming devil of a brother, I might still be in denial. But I love you most ardently, Y/N. And if you feel at all the same then I should like to make you my wife. My viscountess.”

You were speechless, perhaps for one of the first times since meeting Anthony.

You had always told him everything, always saved your last dance for him at balls, always rooted for him in every game of Pall Mall even as his competitor.

And now here he was, the famously anti-marriage Viscount asking if you too wished to wed him.

“Anthony, I had hoped it was clear as day that I too have been unfathomably in love with you for longer than I can explain,” you blushed crimson again under his gaze as a smile spread across his face, “To marry you, well, would be the only way I might find joy in marriage. I know you’ve never sought a match, let alone a love match, but I love you most dearly, my dear Anthony.”

He captured your lips with his as soon as you stopped speaking, knowing that he shouldn’t do so but hoping nobody was around.

Besides, he would soon make you his wife, and he couldn’t contain the excitement.

“I know I’ve previously had my reservations but I am no longer in denial, and I’m sorry for taking my liberties with you by kissing you before we are wed but I could not help myself. And I wish to spend a lifetime kissing you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” he looked shy all of a sudden, which you had never seen before, and you grabbed both of his hands in yours to kiss them.

“Of course, my dear, there is nothing I would like more!”

His smile became impossibly wide, and once more he kissed you out of sheer excitement.

“I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, and I have yet no ring. But my mother will be ecstatic and I plan to give you her betrothal ring because— you are the only woman worthy. And I shall spend our whole life ensuring that I make up for taking so long to do this,” he was vulnerable now, still shy under your careful gaze,

“I had no desire to marry because I had no desire to put the woman I love through the pain of losing me like my mother did my father. She was distraught but— I see now that it is no good wasting time with this fear. However long I might live, I wish to spend those years loving you and making you happy, so that any pain might be worthwhile.”

You kissed him now, tearing your gloves from your hands and reaching up to cup his face and kiss him, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. Always. And I cannot wait to be your wife. It will be the greatest honour.”

You were both hot and flustered, and it was taking everything in him not to push open your bedroom door and sweep you off your feet.

But for you, he was a gentleman, and so he settled for one final kiss atop your head and a sweet goodnight.

“We shall tell the others as we break fast tomorrow, perhaps?” you could see the dizzy joy in Anthony’s eyes as he asked this of you, and you nodded profusely.

“I cannot wait, my dear.”

“Then I will bid you good night, my love. I will dream of you, and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Sleep well, my future viscountess.”

“Sleep well, my love.”

As you went to part, you heard a rustle a little way down the corridor, both looking up to see a smug Benedict smirking, leaning on the wall just down the hallway.

“Even I underestimated my own plan. Congratulations, brother. You finally saw sense.”

———

hello! i know this is completely random as i’ve been writing for djats lately but i has this idea and felt the neeeeed to write it. feel free to request more bridgerton fics, as i’m inspired at the moment and rewatching it.

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader jealous #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton one shot #jealous #jealous anthony bridgerton

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littlexdeaths · 1 month

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strange love - s.h.

king steve harrington x loser fem reader

everybody wants to know, if we fucked on the bathroom sink…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: underage drinking (everyone is 18+), mean!dom steve, steve is a major asshole, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, steve makes reader cry, some good ole’ angst

a/n: this is a reworking of my first steeb fic i ever wrote on my old account. i hope you enjoy xx. and thank you to @stveharringtn for looking this over and hyping me up. ily cherry 💕

based on strange love by halsey

word count: 2.4k

You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.

And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. The night would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm.

Despite all that you go anyway, your heart severely outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping it would capture his attention. But the male didn’t glance your way the entire night, and you felt utterly defeated.

Why you didn’t leave after an hour of being ignored is beyond you, a small part of you still holding out hope. Leaning against a wall in the hallway you watch with disdain as your classmates drunkenly grind on each other. It was one of the last parties of the summer before college classes started, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.

Everyone except for you.

“This was a stupid idea,” you mumble to yourself, glancing down at your drink with a deep sigh. Swirling the now lukewarm beer around in your cup, no longer interested in people watching. Drunken laughter pulls you from your sulking, watching in utter annoyance as Tommy attempts a keg stand in the middle of the living room.

A large crowd has surrounded him, giving you the perfect opportunity to find Jonathan and leave.

However, feeling a piece of paper being slipped into your hand stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes searching for the source of the note. A familiar flutter starts in your lower belly as you catch sight of him, the male now halfway up the stairs. You quickly unravel the crumpled page to find a few words written in his messy script.

You immediately crumple the note in your palm, downing the rest of your beer before you make your way up to the second floor. Despite the large and somewhat confusing layout, you navigated the dark halls with ease. As you knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.

This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to be a one time thing. To get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. After finding him tangled in the sheets with Vicki Carmichael at a party quite similar to this one. All because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it stung, a bigger part of you was incredibly relieved.

Something never fully cliqued with him, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were very good friends, and played basketball together. So it seemed fitting to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, knowing you’d give it up to Steve and not him. But the truth is you’d always secretly had a thing for Steve for years.

That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.

Steve was more than happy to fulfill your wish, not knowing your motive behind it. But what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. Once he had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. However you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge now being thrown out the window.

Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you much preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so instead of arguing you went along with it. Agreeing to a secret friend with benefits relationship, despite knowing you’d want more. Feelings aside it didn’t stop you from hooking up with him multiple times a week, which brings you back to the present.

Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet.

But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. Where anyone could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening.

You found yourself bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs. Tugging his shirt over his head, not bothering to take off his jeans in his impatience to have you.

“God you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.” He growled in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your soaked heat.

The male is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his strong hands. Your own hand drifts between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and encircling it with your fingertips.

Glancing into the mirror in front of you, you watch his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticks to his forehead, no longer styled in the perfect swoop he had it in before you entered the bathroom. His dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches you intensely.

“Hm, look at how pathetic you look honey… letting me use you like a whore.” He grunts, leaning in closer and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth, “But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”

You find yourself nodding, unable to speak. Partially due to the hand still covering your mouth, but you knew even if it wasn't there it wouldn’t have made much difference. The male had fucked any logical thoughts from you at that point.

But you can’t deny the way your body reacts to his words, your walls tightening around him at the mere mention of belonging to him… and him alone. Something Steve doesn’t miss either.

“That’s cute baby…” he chuckles, letting his lips graze along the exposed skin of your throat. “Glad she knows exactly who she belongs to.”

Tears of pleasure blur your vision, mascara streaming freely down your cheeks. Your fucked out reflection stares back at you as he continues to pound into you from behind. Hooded eyes drift to gaze at him once more, seeing how his mouth falls open in a moan as you continue to pulse around his cock.

His sun kissed skin was beautifully flushed, his days spent as a lifeguard at Hawkin’s community pool were treating him extremely well. It made you want nothing more than to leave a trail of dark bruises along his freckled neck— effectively marking him as yours.

But you knew that couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. His reputation as the town’s local biggest player was far more important to him than you could ever be. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe.

You watch in awe as his head tilts back, exposing more of his throat to you. His adam’s apple bobs as he moans, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and taste the sweat that’s coating his skin in a glossy sheen.

Steve just looked so pretty like this, on the edge of release. While you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, continuing to rub your clit faster. You cry out against his hand, the whimper of his name now muffled by his palm. Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees almost buckling as he fucks into you harder.

“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do. it. again.” He growls lowly in your ear, dropping his hand away from your mouth.

Quickly knocking your own out of the way to continue rubbing your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he had you hurtling towards another one, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with acute precision.

Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, a cocky expression crosses over his features as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with both hands, biting down harshly on your lower lip to stop the scream that wants to escape your lungs.

In your euphoric state you don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes watch you possessively, pride filling his chest knowing he’s the only man who has ever seen you like this. The only man to ever make you feel this way, and he planned on keeping it that way. Selfish as it was.

The blissed out look on your face is the thing that finally breaks what little composure he had left. The male burying his face in the crook of your neck as he paints your inner walls with his release. Stilling his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you.

Steve’s secret way of marking you as his.

As both of you attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carry on as if nothing happened. When Steve finally releases your hips, you grip tighter onto the counter to support yourself. Knowing your knees were far too wobbly to keep you upright. A soft whimper leaves your lips as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. In more ways than one.

The male is quick to tuck himself back into his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it makes your body feel hot. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him as he finishes tucking his polo back into his levi’s.

“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his tousled locks.

The door closes softly, and that familiar feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by it at this point, as your little hookups always ended the same way.

With Steve thoroughly pleased with himself, and you all alone.

You can’t stop the moisture from flooding your vision, carefully sitting down on the edge of the tub. Gripping the hem of your dress in your fists as you ruin whatever makeup was still left behind. Shoulders shaking as silent sobs rack through your chest.

In that moment you made a promise to yourself, you wouldn’t let any man— especially someone like Steve fucking Harrington make you feel this way again. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

You continue to let the traitor tears fall for a while before returning to your feet. Glancing back in the mirror you barely recognized yourself, your usual bright eyes were dull, bloodshot and puffy. The little makeup you had done was now smeared across your cheeks. With a frustrated sigh you attempt to collect yourself before returning to the party.

Cleaning the black streaks from your face, adjusting your rumpled dress until you looked somewhat presentable. Taking a deep breath you finally leave the safety of the bathroom, descending the carpeted stairs on shaky legs. No one pays you any mind as you make your way back into the sea of people.

But what you find in the living room feels like a punch straight to the gut.

Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. His large hands that were previously gripping onto your hips were now splayed across her bare thighs. Inching higher and higher up as she tangles her fingers in his hair. You can only stand to watch for a moment longer before bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink.

Thankfully the room was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette who was sipping on a can of Pepsi. You don’t say anything to him, grabbing an open bottle of vodka off the counter and bringing the rim to your lips. Enjoying the familiar burn as you greedily gulp down the clear liquid at an alarming fast rate.

Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to grab the bottle from you. You quickly dodge him, shoving him away with a dirty look.

“Jonny stop! I’m having fun, see?” You roll your eyes before dramatically taking another large swig. Your best friend had seen you drink plenty of times before, but never like this. He knew you well enough to know there was clearly something wrong.

Before you can go back in for another drink he grips onto the base of the bottle, wrestling it from you with a grimace. Before slamming it back onto the counter, making you wince slightly at the sound of the impact.

“That’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”

His tone is stern, but laced with worry. You find yourself pouting in response, a small hiccup leaving you as he sighs. The only reason Jonathan was even here in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington.

But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid, “Fine dad… take me home then.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes at your childish behavior before wrapping his arm around your waist to help guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was definitely starting to take effect, as you stumbled alongside him. Now suddenly a lot more grateful for his help.

What you don’t notice in your tipsy state was a pair of honey eyes watching you both from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helps you out into the warm summer night.

#the freak writes 🫧#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #king!steve harrington #king!steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfic

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 months

Text

MISTLETOE

A/N: oh my god??? im actually posting something??? wow!!! okay joke aside lol its been ages since i last poste anything and im not saying im back, but i've been trying to write here and there so hopefully i will be back soon. until then, here is this little something i manage to finish last month!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Everyone knows Harry is crushing on Y/N, but he hasn't made any major moves. Maybe tonight, when they find themselves under the mistletoe...

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“So Styles, are you gonna man up and ask her out finally, or be a baby?” Niall laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s as they are approaching the pub they spend almost every Friday night at.

“Shut up,” he groans, but it’s impossible to miss the blush on his cheeks. Niall didn’t even drop a name, but they both knew who he was talking about.

It’s kind of an open secret that Harry has been very into Y/N. Well, all the boys know at least and they very much enjoy teasing him about it. Or maybe not about the crush, but about how long he’s been into her and he still hasn’t made any major moves. The past couple of weeks it’s been even more intense, because it seems like Y/N has been very much open towards Harry and his interest in her, but he’s been clearly waiting for him to make a move.

As the boys arrive at the pub it’s just as buzzing as always even despite the painfully cold weather that’s been keeping everyone on campus wrapped up in their warmest clothes. A few days ago it was even snowing for a bit, though there’s nothing left from the whiteness by now.

Harry sighs happily as the warmth of the crowd inside hugs him in an instant. The bunch that’s already there, including Y/N, is sitting in the back at a table they often sit by, it’s kind of their spot at this point.

He spots her in an instant and his cheeks warm up, but this time it’s not because of the temperature inside the pub. He saw her just the other day at lunch, but he can always feel his heart skipping a beat as if she was coming back from a months long trip.

“You’re being obvious,” Niall bumps his shoulder against his, grinning at his friend, but Harry just rolls his eyes again as they make their way over to the table.

With only two weeks until winter break the place is decorated, there are garlands running along the walls and pipes, ornaments hanging from the corners of the framed photos, there’s a tiny christmas tree on top of the bar and if you’re not paying attention you can end up standing underneath a mistletoe here and there as well.

“Hey! Thought you guys weren’t even gonna make it!” Jackie exclaims as she stands from the table, hugging the boys one by one. She is practically the person who brought the group together, everyone in the gang either had a lecture together with her, went to practice with her or shared a room with her. The latter is how Y/N got to meet the boys, including Harry. Though the two girls are not roommates anymore, they are still very close.

Just as Harry wraps his arms around Jackie his eyes meet Y/N’s over her shoulder and his ming blanks for a moment. With her shy smile, simple yet flattering outfit and vibrant aura she is definitely the one who steals the show, at least in Harry’s mind.

“Hi,” he breathes out when they are finally facing each other and she gifts him with the brightest smile as she lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“Hi,” she giggles, her front pressing against his and he holds her just a bit tighter and longer than anyone else. Which she seemingly doesn’t mind.

Of course they end up sitting next to each other. It’s no surprise to anyone. Niall is sitting across Harry and every time Harry looks his way he gives him a nudging, teasing look that screams “come on, make a move” which Harry tries to ignore as much as possible, though Niall tends to be a bit much at times.

“What are your plans for the break?” Y/N asks him, the two of them have kind of tuned out of the conversation that’s happening around the table.

“Just going home, spending time with my family. My mum is very excited,” he chuckles softly. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” she smiles. “I’m pretty sure my mum has already started cooking.”

They talk about family traditions, gifting and funny stories from past holidays, completely forgetting about the rest of the group for a while. When their glasses empty out they head over to the bar for a refill, sticking to each other’s side still.

When Y/N tries to pay for her drink Harry steps in, earning a knowing look from the bartender.

“What a gentleman,” he murmurs under his breath with a smirk, pushing the two beers towards them. Harry’s ears turn red, while Y/N just nods in agreement.

A guy hurries past them, pushing Y/N slightly against Harry whose hand moves to her waist out of instinct to steady her. The moment gets lost in the crowd to everyone else, but not to them. Harry’s whole body flames, the closeness of her feels exciting and calming at the same time and he doesn’t know, but she shares the same feeling.

“You alright?” he manages to ask her, their faces way closer than ever before. She peeks up at him with a short nod.

“Yeah, thanks.”

It feels like a moment that would be perfect to finally make a move. Harry knows and as he is looking at her he also knows that she wouldn’t reject him, yet he still can’t get himself to take that step and cross the line he’s been dancing on for so long.

The seconds pass by and the moment fades as well, disappointment bubbling in her gut as she moves back from him, his hand falling off her waist and he is already regretting being such a coward.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as Y/N starts to move ahead of him, back to the table and he follows her feeling like the biggest loser ever.

Why is he so afraid of making a move? She’s all he’s been thinking about, they get along so well and everyone’s been telling him she wants him too. But still, that awful voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him there’s a chance she rejects him and everything would be ruined after that.

Defeated, they join the rest of the table again and they both can feel a wall sitting right between them. Harry keeps replaying the moment in his head, he thinks of everything he could have done not to mess up his chance, wishing he could go back in time and man up finally.

Soon enough the group moves to the darts boards as Niall and Liam start a match, the rest enjoying the show because Niall is known to be quite competitive in any and all sports.

Harry is standing by Y/N again, but there’s tension between them obviously and his mind is racing to find a way to ease the situation. Should he ask her to talk? Pretend like nothing happened? Or what if he just swung an arm around her right now? What if–

“Oh! You two!” Niall snaps him out of his thoughts, pointing at him and Y/N. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!”

They look up at the same time, checking that he did not lie, there really is a mistletoe hanging above them. Their gazes meet and the moment is back. Y/N is looking at him with hope tinkering in her eyes and Harry knows he can’t mess it up this time, but he needs just a few seconds to build up the courage, this is a big step and he…

He is taking too long. He sees the moment when Y/N is letting go and panic sets in, screaming at him to do something and then… he finally does. Just when Y/N turns her face in defeat he gently cups her cheek, turning it back and she sucks on her breath before he finally presses his lips to hers.

A lot happens around them, there’s whistling and clapping and Niall shouts something but it all tunes out to Harry, she is all he can sense. Her arms are quick to snake around his neck and his hands find their way to her waist, pulling her tight into his embrace, hoping he never has to let go of her.

All his fantasies about what kissing her would feel like vanish and he swears it’s all he has ever known, the touch of her soft lips, the way her tongue swirls against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

Their mistletoe kiss stretches long and neither of them really wants to end it, but reality pushes its way back into their bubble and the noise pops it. Pulling apart they stare at each other for a while before Y/N’s lips slowly break into a smile that Harry feels like wants to own forever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being the reason she smiles this way.

“Harry Styles finally grew some balls!” Niall shouts, completely stomping over the moment they just shared as they turn back to face their friends, arms still around each other.

“A Christmas miracle!” Jackie joins in on the teasing.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Harry groans, not quite enjoying being in the center of attention.

Y/N’s arms have moved to circle around his abdomen and she gently squeezes him, grabbing his attention. The moment he looks at her smiling face he forgets about everything that’s making him uncomfortable.

Leaning down he presses a short, lingering kiss to her lips, replacing every word he ever wanted to tell her and she understands it all, happy to be finally speaking the same language.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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gargoy-ross · 2 months

Text

You made today special - Vox x gn!reader

Summary: You and Vox have been in a situationship of sorts for a while, and he has finally asked you out for the upcoming Valentines. Being the showman he is, he wants everything to be perfect. Unfortunately things don't go according to his plan and he's left on a verge of breakdown.

Warnings: some nasty language but otherwise none

Word count: 1309

He's booked a reservation at the most renowned restaurant in Pride Ring.

He's made sure that a limousine will be ready and waiting.

He's even bought flowers, carefully picked and chosen to match your mutual aesthetic.

And he has put on his best suit, checked himself in the mirror at least seven times in the past hour - which both Valentino and Velvet have teased him about. Usually he'd at least retort with a snarky comment, but Vox can't bring himself to care today.

From the moment you agreed to be his Valentine he's been preparing to swoon you over. Every little detail is taken care of for this day to be memorable.

You're dressed in your best and waiting for him to come pick you up. The butterflies in your stomach refused to calm themself, and you're sure you look like a lovestruck fool right now.

Despite your excitement you were also a bit nervous about how the public would respond to your appearance with Vox. The paparazzi followed him everywhere, and he's always been rather pedantic about the Vees' image.

Still, finally having a date with him? Not just shameless flirting and drunken night outs, but an actual real date?

It was no secret that you had been pining for the tech overlord for longer than you'd like to admit and you were happy to know he shared those feelings too.

A glance at the clock tells you that he should've been here by now. You recheck the message he sent you earlier.

Vox wouldn't have stood you up, would he?

You debate on whether you should text him to ask where he is, but before you can make a decision a black limo drives to your driveway.

You sigh in relief as Vox steps out to open the door for you.

"Apologies for the late arrival," his smile makes you forget your earlier worries. "there were some hiccups on the way. I hope you didn't wait for long."

"I was a bit worried you wouldn't show up, but it's all right."

Vox promises to make it up to you later. He hadn't anticipated the paparazzi blocking the road, and since he was supposed to pick you up he couldn't just zap himself out of there like he'd usually do.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you. "You look stunning by the way."

"Thank you. You look very handsome too." You find it hard to find the right words, but Vox seems pleased with your answer regardless.

This was just a small setback on an otherwise perfect date, he thinks. Everything else will go just as planned.

The ride to the restaurant starts off a bit awkward, but the two of you soon set into a comfortable conversation. Vox, with his natural charm, led most of the exchange, asking for your opinions and preferences on a matter of things. His animated expressions and almost cartoonish mannerism were a delight to watch.

At some point Vox decides that now is the perfect time to give you the bouquet. He reaches for it, only to realize that he forgot to take it with him.

Fuck.

His expression goes from happy and exited to 'shit, I left the stove on'.

"Is everything okay?"

He's quick to recover, nodding and reassuring you that there's no need to worry.

He'll just give you the flowers after the date then.

The restaurant was packed full, which was expected on a special day like Valentine's. That's precisely why Vox had made the reservation early. Now if that idiot behind the counter could just find it…

"Sir, are you sure you've made the reservation for today? I do not see you on the list."

Vox thanks himself for having such good self control. "Yes, I'm quite sure. Check it again."

"I'm sorry sir, your name isn't on the list-"

Vox leans over the counter. His left eye pulses and voice is laced with static. "But it is, right there. See?"

"Of course. This way please."

Vox makes a note of the employee's name. He'll get them fired later for embarrassing him like that.

You're finally seated at your table. It's one of the nicer ones, private enough so others won't see nor hear you and with an amazing view over Pentagram City.

Vox calms himself and the two of you continue your conversation from earlier.

It doesn't take long for a young waitress to come to take your orders. She seems almost nervous, though you suppose it's understandable given the reputation the Vees have. You find your favourite from the menu, and Vox orders a bottle of wine along with your meals.

"Thank you for taking me here. It's been really nice."

Vox flashes you a smile. "Of course. Only the best for you."

Soon the waitress is back with a wine bottle and two glasses. She opens the bottle and goes to fill your glass, only to trip on the table leg.

He sees in slow motion as the red wine gets spilled right onto your lap.

There's a split second of silence before the waitress starts to chant a string of apologies like a prayer. You try to assure her that it'll be okay. It was an accident, and this certainly wasn't the worst that has happened to you.

The opposite of you Vox's claws dig into the table, leaving permanent marks on it's surface.

This bitch. This useless piece of shit DARED TO FUCKING RUIN YOUR CLOTHES.

In a fit of panic she tries to swipe off the spillage with a hand chief. That does nothing but manage to make the mess worse, and only when Vox grabs her by the shoulder to drag her away from you does she realize that.

Before you get to say anything you're pulled up from your seat. There's a quick flash of light and suddenly you're back in Vox's quarters in the Vees' tower.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up. You can feel Vox's hands shaking slightly before he lets go of you.

He's about to lose his composure.

"I did everything right," his voice distorts in the middle of the sentence. He's too worked up to keep up the calm, collected, and charming facade he's mastered.

"I made plans. I double-checked all the boxes."

He stomps off to the living room, practically tearing off his jacket.

"It was supposed to be perfect."

Vox slumps down on the couch. His shoulders sag and he looks at you with what you can only describe as desperation.

He had tried so hard to make today special, yet it seems like the universe had a different plan.

He draws in a shaky breath. His voice is small and you think you might have heard him sniffle when he spoke again.

"I had to make it perfect…"

"Vox…" You take his hands onto yours and he doesn't resist when you place soft kisses on both of them.

"You know, I really enjoyed today. Even though we had to wait forever in line at that restaurant and my clothes got ruined. Do you know why?"

He shakes his head.

"Because I got to spend it with you."

He smiles, despite still feeling down about all his plans being ruined.

"Thank you for taking me out. If it's okay with you, I'd like to spend the night?"

"I won't say no to that, but let's get you to something a bit more comfortable, shall we?"

He picks you up and you wrap your arms around him as he carries you to his bedroom. He agrees to let you borrow one of his shirts, and the two of you spend the rest of the evening cuddled up watching movies.

Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

#vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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yaksha-lover · 9 months

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Imagine being stuck between your not-boyfriend Leona and your dearest friend Malleus.

Things start out casual between you and Leona - you promise each other that you won’t catch feelings. There are endless reasons you two can’t ever be in a relationship: Leona’s the last person to want a commitment to anyone or anything, he’s a prince, you’re still planning to return to your home world. You agree to a few nights of fun whenever you both have time, eventually planning to go your separate ways without anyone ever finding out. Only things never work out that way.

One day, Leona stops leaving Ramshackle as soon as the two of you are finished. He stays and you make midnight snacks and actually talk. The late-night conversations show you a different side of Leona. You think the previous events of the night put him in a good mood, one where he’s willing to tell you stories of the Sunset Savanna, of his childhood.

Suddenly, the two of you are sneaking out of NRC on secret dates (neither of you call it that, but the dinners and sights he take you to are hard to dismiss as just a friendly get-together). It’s exhilarating while it lasts, the secrecy of this love affair. When it’s just the two of you, out where no one knows you, it’s like living in another universe where you could actually be together; there’s no mention of his royal status or your return home, there’s only you and him.

It’s hard to separate the ‘you’ that made the promise from the ‘you’ that knows the way Leona is when no one else is there for him to keep up appearances. You make a mistake; he’d huffed about holding your hand on a secret outing before, but ultimately he’d conceded and let you tug him along to places. This time, with an audience of the other housewardens, he isn’t so willing to forgive your little mistake.

Your attempt to take his hand and lead him out of the classroom is met with a fierce glare and him yanking his hand out of yours. You know it’s your fault - you should’ve known better than to break the rules that you agreed to, he’s not your boyfriend after all - but the sting of his rejection and the words of venom he spits at you have your chest squeezing tight enough to leave you rooted in place. Vil even stops to pat your shoulder on the way out, his pity at your rejection evident in his voice.

You think you might love him. The feeling is suffocating, nothing like you’d ever thought falling in love would be like. You’ve doomed yourself - Leona’s been clear about his intentions from the start - and still, you dared to hope that the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear meant something.

You never told Malleus about your relationship with Leona, but you never had to; he already knows. He’s far more observant than most give him credit for. What else can one do but listen when they have no one to talk to? No one, that is, until you. He notices the changes in you during each successive club meeting. The cycles of elation and heartbreak were easy to spot in your small grins and deep eye bags.

He’s a bit heartbroken himself when he first realizes it. He thought it was no secret that he was interested in you, but you remained oblivious despite his attempts. He comforts himself with the thought that this is just a temporary thing - a relationship never meant to last more than a change of seasons.

Eventually, when the sadness becomes too much for even you to hold in, you confide in him. That day, you cry into his arms and for the first time, he wishes to hurt Leona Kingscholar. Despite your insistence that this is not Leona’s fault, Malleus knows better.

It’s clear to anyone that Leona’s feelings for you run deeper than you know. Even before you two began this secret affair, everyone had known the way he looked at you, the way his eyes would linger. Now, his love for you is obvious in the way he takes care of you, the way he glares at anyone willing to come within a two meter radius of you.

It’s because he knows Leona has feelings for you that he hates him. Because his inability to express them sends you crying into Malleus’ own arms every time. You deserve better than someone who isn’t willing to show you how they truly feel. And yet, you never stop. You can’t resist him, Malleus supposes.

It hurts him, when you cry into his chest night after night. How cruel are you, to cry to him over another man when he has spent many nights simply trying to suppress his own feelings for you? He knows that you would never do this to him, if you knew about his feelings, but he can’t bring himself to tell you. He would rather stay by your side as a friend than lose you trying to become more. Malleus keeps that thought close to himself on the nights he’s alone and forced to wonder if you would’ve chosen him had you met him and not Leona first.

Malleus doesn’t know that you’ve thought the same, convinced that the dragon prince would never think about you that way. At first, you’d only really been interested in Leona, but the more he pushed you away and the more time you’d spent with Malleus, the more you began to see him in another light. You only become more and more confused about your feelings as time goes on.

The last time you’d seen Leona, you’d finally broken down and told him your true feelings. That you couldn’t do things casual anymore, that you’d longed to be with him as a real couple. You felt guilty also mentioning your growing feelings for Malleus, but in the end felt it was necessary to be entirely honest to him. You’d asked him to say something, to make a decision.

Leona hadn’t said a word, only staring at you in silence until you couldn’t take the feeling anymore and fled from his room. In a way, you felt that his silence had spoken for him and ended anything you thought existed between the two of you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell Malleus about it.

You have no idea how you make Leona’s heart ache. How much he cares about you and much it hurts to see your sad face when he has to pretend that he doesn’t. Old habits die hard, and Leona’s past makes it difficult for him to openly care about anything. He never wanted to make you feel like this - he wants to love you publicly, but his pride takes over and leaves him pushing you away.

He knows he sabotages all his chances at happiness, but Leona won’t let himself lose you. The next night, he shows up to your door, wearing a suit and flowers in hand (the most effort he’s put into anything in years), prepared to finally tell you of his feelings and ask you on a real date. He feels his heart sink when you open the door and he spots Malleus sitting at the coffee table behind you.

Only an hour earlier, Malleus had decided that he couldn’t live like this anymore, not telling you of his feelings. He’d also shown up at Ramshackle, asking you to talk. As he told you his feelings for you, you hadn’t said much, looking more surprised than anything. It was as he was waiting for your answer that the doorbell rang and Leona appeared on your doorstep.

The two men stare at each other and then back at you.

You have a choice to make: the handsome lion who’d won your heart during passionate nights or the beautiful dragon who’d been there for you all along?

#i know love triangles are cliche but these two got me in a chokehold fr #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #twst drabble #twst #twisted wonderland #k.concepts

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alyakthedorklord · 1 year

Text

Chiroptophobia: the Fear of Bats.

Bruce Wayne is Scared of Bats. This is a Canon Fact.

In a difference from canon, Batman pretends to actually BE a bat man.

(Again, “Loading and Aspect Ratio” by JUBE514 situation with fake wings. Please go read it I love it so much.)

Bruce turns himself into a physical manifestation of his personal worst nightmares, and sets out to be a street cryptid. People see him flinching from bright lights and loud noises (he hasn’t slept in three days and he really hates guns) twitching weirdly (testing his wings function/stimming) not fully understanding human social niceties (you cannot tell me this man isn't Autistic) and, duh, wings, and go ah yes this being is Inhuman.

However, people KNOW Brucie Wayne™ is petrified of bats. There was an incident at a party when one flew through a window, another at a zoo, there was this one time Manbat showed up and he practically teleported away. No one saw him for a whole month, even after Batman had captured Manbat. (He got injured in the fight.)

By extension, this means that Bruce Wayne is afraid of Batman. Just- absolutely terrified of him. No ones seen them in the same place. Ever. Bruce Wayne actually publicly refuses to even believe in the cryptid for YEARS past when he's already been proven to exist.

When the Justice League gets called in to protect Bruce and his smattering of children from some plot (batman conspicuously absent, despite Gotham being his territory) Bruce straight up tells the league that he doesn’t believe in Batman, and he feels much safer with “real heroes” rather than “a urban legend spawned from overdramatic furries and gang wars.”

The justice league is, obviously, confused.

Certified little shits Dick, Jason, and Tim, (because we’re going with JUBE514’s canon and jason doesn’t die they’re all brothers f off-)

ANYWAYS: Certified Little Shits Dick, Jason, and Tim, ready for chaos/solidifying secret identities: “Don’t worry! We believe in batman! We saw him!” :D

They then proceed to tell the justice league that Bruce HAS met Batman, but he has a phobia of bats, so when Batman saved them at a gala Bruce screamed so loud and shrill he threw off the bat-hearing and then punched batman in the face so hard he knocked him out cold, grabbed then-baby Jason and ran. (Nightwing and the second Robin had to HEROICALLY rescue a dazed Batman, Dick saw it with his own eyes!)

Bruce was so scared of the bat coming to take revenge that he jumped at every shadow for a whole month. Why, Jason, (who was younger then) had slept in Bruce's bed to keep him safe! (Dick is crooning about his cute little brother. Jason, who is hitting his growth spurt and not a little kid anymore, is infinitely embarrassed.) Right now, Brucie has settled into firmly denying Batman’s entire existence so that he can sleep soundly at night.

“Why is he so scared of bats?” The Justice League is wondering. Oh, they are so glad they asked!

“Alfred told us a story once,” Dick says, eyes wide and innocent as he prepares to lie through his fucking teeth, “that when Bruce was little, really little, he got trapped in a cave filled with bats, and his dad had to come rescue him. Apparently, Little Bruce had been crying about a massive bat, even bigger than he was, with glowing red eyes and human hands and (gasp) wait oh my goodness gracious what if that was the BATMAN :0”

“The baby batman.” Jadon adds.

“Batboy?” Tim wonders.

“Alfred, do you think Bruce met Batman when they were little?” Dick asks.

“I believe,” Alfred “the greatest enabler” Pennyworth hums, offering fresh baked scones to thier gleeful audience, “that Master Bruce referred to what he saw as ‘the bat king’ and reported seeing him outside his window several times over the years.”

“Maybe it really was him! Will you ask Batman for us?” Tim asks, already planning to hack the watchtower cameras and set up some popcorn with his brothers.

The Justice League, who have learned more about the Batman in one conversation than they have over MANY years of working together, tell the Wayne children that it will be their Genuine Pleasure to quiz batman on his interactions with BRUCIE WAYNE who has, apparently, laid batman out cold with one punch.

Alfred adds on that he personally thinks the Batman is being rather courteous to Master Bruce, as “bat king” sightings were after “difficult times” and he doesn’t come near the manor otherwise, as robin had been the one to return some family heirlooms that one time they were stolen. He calls the batman and his robins “polite young gentlemen” and then leaves.

But now the gears are turning in the justice leagues heads. Batman? Courteous? Polite? Batman is not Courteous or Polite. Not unless something else is going on.

Now. From their point of view. Batman lives in the cave systems under the richest houses in Gotham, Phantom of the Opera style, hiding his meta form (because this batman is playing cryptid really well. Maybe he was a mutant baby of some Rich Gothamites, who threw him into the caves in shame!) He’s been watching Bruce Wayne, likely as he struggled with the highly reported on demise of his parents, seeing the effects that crime had on the boy that fell into his cave all those years ago. Batman has always been so protective of children, so hateful of guns, obviously the Wayne tragedy is part of what motivates him. He loves Gotham dearly, territorial of it to the point of keeping other heroes out, and yet he breaks that rule here, for Gotham's prince, solely for Bruce’s comfort.

Bruce, another person who obviously loves the city of Gotham just as much, putting millions into charity and relief efforts. Who is clearly very protective of his children, even if he usually has no spine, to the point of attacking his greatest fear to keep then safe, and good enough to land a hit, even. (Bruce Wayne is also considerably attractive.)

Its all so clear to the Justice League: Batman is madly in love with Bruce Wayne. Has been for years. To the point of watching him sleep, on occasion. How very tragic! Batman, in love with someone he can never be with! Not only would it paint a massive target on Bruce’s back if they ever did get together- there’s no questioning what Gotham villains would do if they discovered this, (and denying himself love out of an attempt to keep others safe is EXACTLY the kind of self-sacrificing nonsense Batman would pull) But Batman can’t even truly see the man he’s in love with without Brucie running away in terror! Well, the poor guy… how sad…

This conclusion can be supported by the following evidence-

Batman’s first appearance being right after Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham. Was the bat following him to protect him in those missing years? Or maybe he decided to clean up the city now that his beloved had returned?

Batman always being seen near where Bruce is. He’s never once been at the watchtower when Bruce has a public appearance- he must be watching over him, a silent guardian in case someone gets it in their head to kidnap Gotham’s Prince.

Batman insisting that Bruce is innocent in a corporate scheme, despite evidence to the contrary. (Hes right in the end, of course, but they’ve never seen him ignore evidence so clear.)

Batman casually referencing Wayne Tech/Foundation inner workings- he keeps an eye on them, of course. (If he can’t be close to the object of his affections, the league reasons, of course he’d make sure that Bruce’s company and projects are on the right track)

Nightwing, when asked, confirms the Bruce Punching Batman story. He says “honestly I think B was impressed! Caught him off guard!” (Since when does Batman lower his guard? Only when he’d be… distracted, perhaps…)

Superman saves Bruce, who thanks him with a kiss on the cheek. Later, justice league was teasing Clark, batman huffs and leaves the room. He’s CLEARLY jealous! Superman feels just awful!

Batman inexplicably knowing social dances/high society manners- he must have learned by watching (stalking) bruce! He can navigate high profile talk if he wants to, he just doesn’t want to most of the time. but if the situation calls for it he can talk like the Richest of Pricks in a way that only comes with observation.

Batman bristling when some of the league members start making Comments on Brucie Wayne’s Physical Attributes. (Jealousy? Defensiveness? Perhaps… embarrassment at GL’s detailed explanation on what he’d do with a chance in bed with Brucie.)

Batman absolutely freezing up when confronted with any of the above evidence. (He’s trying SO HARD not to laugh/go tell his kids)

Dick/Jason being big enough to wear the Bat-wings rather than thier own and be convincing- they save Bruce, though the man passes out (from fear? Blood loss from an injury? Perhaps- he is faking) and Dick/Jason, either out of genuine concern for their dad or general “how can i stir the pot” chaos, gently strokes his hair away from his face in an act of compassion that the cameras just so happen to catch. (There’s a few tears shed in the justice league- poor batman! He can’t be with his love!)

The robins (in both identities) telling the justice league that they've seen batman watching him.

“oh yeah he does background checks on aaaaaall bruces conquests. Had a conniption when brucie found a mafia boss that one time.”

“And when he found out Bruce and Two-face had a fling!”

(The league notes that often, if a criminal gets too close to Brucie, they’re put away not long after. B is usually collecting evidence in his civilian ID. But it looks like angry Batman wanted them to get the hell away from his mans.)

The Justice League is swooning over this tragic, forbidden love story. Batman is a little creepy but hey. He apparently grew up in a cave system. Its a wonder he's as well adjusted as he is. Batman has their sympathy, he seems less unflappable/untouchable, they’re a little more understanding with him now. Superman is all too happy to be a rebound, if needed. There are magic users offering glamour spells. Green Lantern is making exposure therapy innuendos.

The robins can’t believe how lucky they got. They’re def grounded but B can’t be too mad bc his secret identity is FUKIN SET.

Alfred is rather proud of Batman's new nickname in the league being “the bat king” and keeps sending batman along with cookies. The league thinks Batman is checking up on bruce with his butler. Its a mess.

Eventually, Batman loses a bet to one of his kids. Committing to the Bit with an exasperated sigh (he’s definitely not having fun, shut up jason.)

He admits to his crush.

#cryptid batman #brucie wayne #wing fic #justice league #dc universe #dc prompt #when the league finds out they’re almost offended #b just sheugs and say they drew their own conclusions #also his robins and alfred were having fun #bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x batman #superbat

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just-wrting · 7 months

Text

Secret Admirer

Title: Secret Admirer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You've been trying to figure out who keeps leaving you little notes and gifts. Despite everyone else knowing, you keep denying the obvious answer.

Word Count: 1721

Master List

A/N: This will probably be the only thing I write for Reid. I'm not super into him but when the List Randomizer spat out secret admirer I weirdly thought of him. I plan on trying to write a bunch of different characters from a bunch of different fandoms. Just whoever pops into my head I guess. Two will probably be posted Friday.

You aren’t sure when you noticed it. Maybe it was the fact that your desk was always clean. Maybe it was the little extra things that started to appear. Slowly but surely, you realized you had someone who was leaving you gifts and notes. You had a secret admirer.

Despite your efforts, no one on the team would say anything. For several weeks, you pressed the issue with the other BAU members, yet no one cracked. In fact, you were teased about being unable to figure it out. How could a member of the BAU not figure out their mystery admirer?

“Come on Garcia! I know you know. You have to tell me,” you plead with the tech genius. “You’ve literally been avoiding me. I know you know.”

She lets out a squeak before running to the safety of her lair. Morgan is giving you a smirk and shaking his head. Despite your scowl, he chooses to tease you.

“Come on, (L/N), can’t you figure it out? Who could be this mystery man leaving you gifts and fancy letters?” He laughs as he pokes the latest gift, a small stuffed version of your favorite animal.

“Hey, leave my new son out of this. What did he ever do to you?” you grumble, pulling it closer to you. “I didn’t even realize someone remembered such a little detail.”

“Maybe that means it’s been a long time crush.”

At that moment, Reid sets his bag down and takes a seat at his desk. You think you see Morgan’s grin get wider, but it’s hard to tell given how wide his smile usually is. It’s a picture perfect smile.

“That’s a relatively cute stuffed animal. I’ve actually been reading up on that one recently if you’d like to know more,” he offers. “Only if you’re interested of course.”

Reid gives you his charming boyish smile. It goes well with demeanor and you can’t help but find it cute.

“As long as you’re willing to leave out the creepy facts. I don’t even remember telling anyone my favorite animal,” you say with a smile. “Who would remember such a little detail?”

Morgan chimes back in, “Maybe someone with a perfect memory. Like what the kid has.”

You sigh. “Reid seems to like highly intelligent women with PhDs. I may be smart, but I’m not smart enough.”

Before anyone can protest, Hotch calls you all to the conference room for a case. While you’re sure Reid is nice enough to help whoever has a crush on you, you doubt you’d be his type. Maybe Reid is the perfect person to question about the mystery man.

—-

“Reid, (L/N), you two stay here and look through the papers,” Hotch orders before leaving the precinct.

You frown. What’s the point of having you here? Reid can read faster than you can. It’s almost like you’re just here for moral support in case he gets tired.

“Well now I feel useless,” you groan. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Reid doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Maybe today you’re our mascot. After all, mascots are supposed to be cute.”

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Not all mascots are cute. Recognizable is definitely more important than cute. Besides, am I really that cute?

“I meant to say that compared to Morgan, you’re cute.” Reid buries his head further into the papers.

You ponder for a moment. “Well, you’ve got some charm. Morgan has the charm of he’s good with women so that’s why he gets hit on. Hotch is mature and a leader so that’s why women are into him. You’re cute though. You’ve got this soft sort of shyness that makes you adorable.”

You don’t catch Reid’s reply. His face is completely hidden behind various files. Maybe he’s just embarrassed, given that he’s always been a bit bad with taking compliments. That doesn’t stop you from thinking that it’s adorable.

“Speaking of your charms. I like the fact that you’ve got a good memory. You wouldn’t happen to know who’s got a crush on me, would you?”

He doesn’t look up. “I can pass along a message if you’d like.”

“Well then, I suppose you should tell this guy to ask me out. I can say for certain that if he’s this considerate, that he’s already got my interest.”

“I’ll do that,” he mumbles before handing you a file. “Take a look at this. I think I’ve found what we’ve been missing.”

—-

You peer into the lecture hall. It took some convincing, but you have successfully dragged J.J. to one of Lewis’ classes. You gesture vaguely into the room.

“See! That’s what normal Reid is. Dorky jokes, random facts, and the rambling on for ages is what makes him Reid. That’s not what he’s like around me anymore,” you hiss.

She makes a face and shakes her head. “So you have a different Reid? I don’t think he’s been replaced (L/N). Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.”

You scoff. “No I’m not. Reid just seems so nervous around me. Did I do something? He barely looks at me anymore.”

With a shrug, she leads you away. “Have you tried asking him?”

You toss your empty coffee cup in a trash can. Part of you wants to throw up your hands and be done. Why is everyone treating this like it’s normal? No one is giving you any answers.

“Of course I have J.J. It would be weirder if I hadn’t. He clearly knows something about this secret admirer of mine, but won’t tell.”

J.J. pats your arm comfortingly. “Maybe it’s because he’s your secret admirer. Perhaps you need to ask him out.”

“Yeah sure. I’ll ask him out once I have the evidence that he’s the person leaving me these gifts.”

J.J. raises her eyebrows as she drinks from her coffee. Her face says she has other thoughts, but she won’t press the matter further. Your gut tells you to trust her, but you’d rather not make a fool of yourself. Sure, she knows Reid better than you do, but Reid can be difficult to read.

—-

After reading the latest note, you search your desk for your stapler. You’ve been stapling the date and time to each note before tucking it in your desk. However, it’s missing.

You let out a groan. This isn’t the first time it’s been in the wrong spot, and you’re sick of it. You opt to beg Garcia to look at the camera footage to see who’s been using it.

“Hey Garcia? Can you please pull up the footage of my desk this morning? Someone’s been using my stapler, and today they stole it,” you grumble with a scowl. “Whoever took it is going to get some very strong words.”

As she speeds through the footage, you watch the people who got there before you. At first, you see Reid pause at your desk and fiddle with something. You note that he’s the only person in the office at the time, but after he pulls away, you see your stapler still on the desk.

The next person to stop at your desk is Morgan. He pulls your stapler off your desk and staples his paperwork together as he heads to Hotch’s office. He never sets it back on your desk.

“Garcia? Can you please get my stapler from that idiot?”

She laughs. “Has he been using your stapler this whole time? He said there wasn’t any more in the supply room.”

You shake your head. “You like him so much, you can retrieve my stolen goods from him.”

Garcia nods. “I’m on it. You can count on me.”

You leave her to her planning. You don’t comment on the fact that Reid had been at your desk. If you ask her about it, she’ll just leave you alone to go get your stapler. This is enough evidence for you though. It’s time to confront Reid.

Thankfully, he’s made his way to the conference room to look for something. You sneak in behind him and stand between him and the door.

“So, what did you need from my desk this morning?”

You watch him jump and spin around. He looks shocked, but quickly covers it up.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, (L/N).”

You frown. “I found out my stapler was missing. Garcia showed me the footage and before it went missing, you were at my desk. What did you do?”

Reid opens and closes his mouth a few times. He doesn’t look at you. His hands keep fiddling with whatever he’s holding.

“Forget about it, I’m sure there was just some trash leftover that you cleaned up.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something else. The others seem to think I’m just talking myself out of it, but I think I can't put it off any longer.”

You make your way towards him, your smile still plastered on your face. You can tell he’s even more nervous now.

“Reid, are you my secret admirer?”

This time, Reid looks you in the eyes. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.

“What if I am?”

You’re a bit taken aback. Despite the determination you had walking into this, you aren’t sure what to say.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your voice is a whisper now. It feels like some sort of dream. It’s almost like if you talk too loud, this whole thing will shatter and you’ll be left in pieces.

“I didn’t think you’d like me back. Your type just didn’t seem to include me.”

Reid hesitantly pushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re more my type than you realize.”

“Then do you want to get dinner tonight?”

Now you’re the one who's acting nervous. Your palms are sweaty. It’s more difficult to breathe. You can’t help but bite your lip.

“I’d like that. If you’re willing to get dinner with me.”

Reid leans down, and gives you a quick kiss. It barely lasts a second, but you can feel your skin heat up. When he pulls away, he stays close.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

#reader insert #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

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moonchildstyles · 6 months

Text

hemlock

oleander part two: sneaking away to see harry, y/n learned more than she bargained for

wordcount: 16.7k+

—————

The blunt of (Y/N)'s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, holding back the lingering smile that wanted to curl her features. More than once, she peeked through her lashes to the darkly dressed figure sauntering through the apothecary.

True to his word the last time they had met, Harry returned to the apothecary sooner than usual. It had only been a pair of weeks since she had seen him previous when she was being carted away from his castle. He had been on her mind since, hoping he wouldn't wait the usual two months before she would see him perusing the shelves once more.

The second that she had seen him step over the threshold of the front door, her heart fluttered through her chest in a rattling beat. A lopsided curl made a home on his own features, but they both stayed quiet.

They both knew they couldn't exactly boast about their clandestine meetings. Their encounters were unspoken secrets that they could now share in fleeting glances and small smiles.

It was seemingly harder than ever to keep her eyes to herself and her feet behind the counter this time. That alluring draw of him had been elevated that much higher now that there was more of that connection forged between. More than once, before falling asleep, she sent herself sweet dreams with the final thought of just how concerned he was, reaching for her when she woke up after the storm.

As if knowing exactly what was on her mind, Harry flicked his gaze over his shoulder to her. She didn't turn away in time, instead allowing her skin to warm when his eyes grazed over her skin.

He was the first to break the contact before he absently reached for a bundle of lavender sprigs and started towards the counter. They both knew he didn't really need anything new, but shopping for more was the perfect excuse to share space once more.

"Did you find all that you were looking for, sir?" she asked, repeating the same script she had always given him when he dropped his purchase on the counter.

"I did, thank you," he smiled, canting his head as he watched her take her time checking him out, "The weather has been rather intense lately, don't you think?"

She had her head down as he spoke, though she didn't mask the smile that bloomed across her features. She knew what he was getting at. "Definitely. The storms have been unlike the previous years. I had a bit of trouble a few weeks ago during one of the thunderstorms, but I'm doing much better now."

"Good. I am happy to hear that," he drawled, his voice thick like the velvet she remembered glazing over her skin when she woke up in his castle. "I hope the weather stays stable for a little while longer, as I'm planning on throwing a dinner party in the coming weeks."

(Y/N) perked up, her meandering fingers slowing. "Really? A dinner party?"

"Yes," he cemented, linking his dark eyes with hers in unwavering contact, "I am planning on it being an intimate affair, only a few in attendance. I do not have the specifics planned out yet, but invitations will be sent out in the coming weeks."

She really hoped she was picking up on the correct message he was passing along, and it wasn't just her dreamy heart that told her that she would be one of the few receiving an invitation. Her lungs squeezed at the thought of rejoining him at the castle, even if it included the prying eyes of others.

Collecting herself, she passed back the lavender bundle. "I am sure it will be wonderful, sir. I can't imagine you would plan anything less than flawless."

"We will have to see," he started, dropping coins on the counter without having to be told the price, "I expect it to be perfect as long as the right guests show up."

Another meaningful glance was shared between them. A slight quirk appeared on his lips.

"Until next time, (Y/N)."

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, she swore she felt her skin warm despite the low temperature of the shop. "Until next time, sir."

Using the window beside the counter, (Y/N) watched him head straight towards a midnight carriage drawn by bone-white horses. Pulling over the cobblestone, the coach headed straight back towards the castle, no other stops made.

—————

The rickety stool under (Y/N)'s feet wobbled some as she stretched to the tips of her toes. Her breath was stuck in her throat each time she felt that small stool creak under her feet. No matter the dropping of her stomach every time her stability tottered, she kept up her task of hanging the herbs from the lines criss-crossing through the apothecary.

Just as she took another twined bundle of lavender from her basket, intending to add it to the row that needed a few more days of drying before being added to the shelves, a knock sounded on the front door of the apothecary. The sound took her by surprise, her balance waning with her hand over her head and toes stretched in her boots.

The door was unlocked, right? The shop had been open for hours; there was no reason to give a knock to the door.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) carefully climbed down from the stool. Looking towards the door, she saw an unfamiliar, pale face looking through the glass. The sight had a zip of fear going up her spine, her hand fluttering up to rest on her throat. The man on the other side of the door didn't have any reaction to her fright, his features set in expressionless stone.

While she didn't recognize this man, there were small details that she could also see in Harry. This man had pale skin, and dark eyes. He looked to be impossibly still, stuck in a moment in time.

He could clearly see her through the glass, a surefire sign that the shop was well open and ready for customers. Still, he stayed out in the late morning dew, patiently waiting for her.

While there was no way he hadn't caught her reaction, (Y/N) still tried her best to school her expression into something pleasant. Moving across the shop, basket of lavender at her hip, she opened the door for her new patron.

"Good morning," she greeted, feeling the touch of frigid morning air grazing her skin, "How may I help you, sir?"

Ignoring her initial question, he only asked, "May I enter?"

Taken aback, she floundered over her response. "Um—I—" she stumbled. She'd never had to invite a customer in while the shop was open. Collecting herself, she bowed her head as she opened the door wide enough for him to make it through, "Yes. Please, come in."

He moved deftly over the floor, barely making a sound on the floorboards. "You are Ms. (Y/N), right?"

Giving a fluttering blink of her eyes, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yes, I am."

The man silently pulled out an envelope from his jacket before passing it off to her. Cautiously taking it from his grip, she tried not to appear as curious as she felt when she peered down at the elegant letter now in her hands.

On the front, in glimmering, burnished gold lettering was her name scripted in looping font. Just the weight alone was enough to show just how important this correspondence was, as if the hand-delivery wasn't enough to give away as much. Only for the fact she still had an audience, (Y/N) refrained from slipping her finger under the blood red wax seal enclosing the flap.

Instead, she tucked it behind her back before looking up towards the footman.

Only, he was gone.

She just barely caught him on his way out, the length of his dark hair fluttering behind him as the bell above the door tinkled. The sound was decidedly quieter than when she had pushed the door open herself to let him in. She hadn't even heard him cross the space, the floorboards giving nothing away under his footfalls.

There was no chance to say anything to him—thank him for the delivery, ask him who the letter was from, anything at all, really. She was unable to catch even what direction he disappeared in, only knowing that she was now alone.

A grin plucked at her lips at the thought.

(Y/N) didn't waste a second before she was pulling out the letter once more, wanting to open it as soon as possible while she had the privacy.

Allowing her eyes to peruse over the gorgeous stationery, she could see the faint flecks of shimmer in the ink used to spell out her name. The wax seal was a vivid red color, embossed with a bold S wreathed in thorns. Doing her best to keep the wax intact, (Y/N) carefully picked at the edge to flip open the flap. Inside, a folded letter awaited on another piece of rich stationary.

Her breath was stolen as she unfolded the paper, looking over what exactly had been so important to be delivered directly to her hand.

It was an invitation.

The ink was the same burnished gold, accented with filigree style line work across the edges. There was a texture to the page, (Y/N) unable to keep from running the pad of her thumb across the page. It was luxurious—the kind of correspondence she figured nobility would have the privilege of receiving. And, it was addressed to her.

A week from today's date, she was requested to be present at Harry Styles' home for a dinner party in celebration of the turn of the season. The same party he had told her about a week prior.

There was no doubt she would appear mad to any onlooker that dared to peer through the windows into the shop, seeing as how she was grinning down at the letter. She had hoped this was what Harry had been telling to her without actually saying it—that she would be invited to his home for this dinner. Her heart sped up behind her ribs, her breath shorting in her lungs at the idea of rejoining him at his home.

Without permission, a squeal escaped (Y/N)'s lips. She couldn't help herself as she twirled her dress fanning around her ankles, as she pressed the letter to her heart.

There was no doubt she was mad now.

—————

(Y/N) had been riding high all day after her special delivery, only for the comedown to have her face planting into the earth.

There was another body found. Another young woman laid to rest in the woods with her throat ripped out and no blood left in her body.

The village was submerged in shades of blue for the rest of the night, including her father by the time he made it home. He had gone out with others of the town to help carry the woman back to the village in hopes of giving her a proper burial with her family.

He had been practically silent since he scaled the stairs of the apothecary, joining her in the flat above. His energy was hard to ignore, even if her mind continued to wander more than once to the letter she had spent hours memorizing when she had been alone. She had been so excited when receiving the correspondence, but now that giddiness had to live alongside that simpering grief the rest of the village had slipped into.

There was nothing but the sound of cutlery clinking against their chipped flatware, dinner nothing more than a warming stew and the last of the summer vegetables that had been harvested. Her father saw their home through unseeing eyes, as he couldn't seem to focus on one space for too long before he was flitting to the next. (Y/N) matched his silence, keeping to herself in hopes of allowing the night to pass quickly. In the morning, hope would be restored to her neighbors and she wouldn't feel so out of place still feeling excitement for her invitation.

"What is that?"

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) checked back into the unexpected moment. "Pardon?"

Her father's eyes were fixed over her shoulder, towards the kitchen where the leftovers of the stew were simmering on the tiny stove implanted in the space. "What is that?"

Twisting in her seat, she tried to follow his gaze. "There are some leftovers if that is what you are wondering—"

"No," he cut her off, pushing his chair away from the table before stalking towards the kitchen.

At the last moment, she realized what exactly had caught his attention.

During the hours she had been left alone while he aided the village in bringing the young woman in the woods home, she had read and reread and reread the invitation as many times as she could. She admired the gilded writing, the exquisite seal, and every luxurious detail. She had left it out on the counter while she cooked, leaving it in arm's reach.

That was where it still sat.

That was where her father was headed.

For the first time, she felt fortunate for her father's aching joints and the long hours he had been on his feet—even before the trip to the forest. He was moving slow enough for her to jump up and cut him off, as if she were joining him in finding whatever he had fixed his attention on.

"This?" she asked, plucking up another piece of mail that the Wayfields had sent along with Margret the day previous. "It is only a recipe from Mrs. Wayfield—for her potato soup and the bread with the bubbles she's so skilled at making."

She waved the envelope for her father to see, though it was decidedly less ornate than that of the one she was currently hiding behind her back. If she could, she would have crossed her fingers in hopes of him falling for her ruse.

He blinked as he took in what she was trying to pass off as the same piece of mail that had the wax seal and glimmering writing. "There was another letter, (Y/N). Where is it?"

Her palms began to sweat. Her father would not be happy to know she had been requested by the Count, especially not on a day like today when he had undoubtedly spent plenty of time with those who accused Harry of being a monster.

"I do not—"

"What are you hiding behind your back?"

"Nothing." Her response came too quickly. Her father's eyes narrowed.

"(Y/N)."

"It is really nothing," (Y/N) tired again, digging up any kind of excuse she could, "I was doing inventory for downstairs, and—"

"(Y/N)," he said once more, his voice edging into something sharp and steely. Now wasn't the time, he was telling her. "Let me see."

She only swallowed, keeping her hand stuck behind her back.

Everything happened in a vacuum then. Time was ticking with her heartbeats while staying still in the middle of the kitchen. It didn't take much for her father to reach around and grab the letter, ripping it out of her hands before she could even tighten her grip.

There was panic sifting through her veins as she saw him look over the letter, the flap roughly pulled open with the letter folded open with careless fingers. She took quick strides towards him, intending to pull the stationary right out of his hands, to keep him from damaging the page any more or looking over the invitation. There was barely a fight, her father raising it out of her reach with his gaze hardening more and more with every word he read.

"This is from him? And, you are trying to hide it from me?" he seethed, looking to her with blazing eyes, "After everything that has happened today, you are trying to protect him?"

A lump sat heavily in her throat, (Y/N) attempting to swallow around it through her eyes never left the letter that was above her head. "It's not like that, father," she tried to argue, "You know he has nothing to do with all of that. It is only a dinner party; I think he is trying to get to know us more, and he knows me from shopping downstairs, so—"

"How do you know?!" he boomed, breaking for the first time (Y/N) had seen since her mother's passing. "How do you know he has nothing to do with the dead girls? How do you know he doesn't have everything to do with it all, (Y/N)? You think it is safe to attend a dinner party at his dungeon? You welcome his advances knowing all that you do?!"

(Y/N) was rooted in her spot, listening to the tirade her father bubbled off. There was nothing she could say, nothing that could satisfy him no matter how carefully she picked her words.

"I know he is a well-off man, (Y/N)," he continued, taking her silence as response enough, "But you do not know him, no matter what you have been telling yourself. You daydream, and romanticize, and let your head wander too far from reality. How can you find reason enough to think it is safe to attend a party at his home? Have you already forgotten what you saw in the woods? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to join them?"

His words stung. He had always had a problem with her active imagination, the willingness she had to let her mind wander and come to the prettier conclusion, the softer avenue. Is that what she had done with Harry? Was that the missing piece? While she was wondering what it would be like to glide across a ballroom in his arms, feel the soft of his lips over her cheek, what the swirls of his curls would feel like between her fingers, the rest of the village was seeing the sharpened teeth and soulless eyes of a beast. Was she really that naive?

"I have not forgotten about that night, (Y/N). I have not forgotten about the night you were missing, either—wherever you truly were."

Dropping her gaze to the floorboards, (Y/N) felt her eyes sting.

While she knew he couldn't have been completely accepting of her lie, this was the first time he had acknowledged that her word hadn't been completely true.

"I am not letting the next body we find be yours, (Y/N). You are not going to that dinner party, do you understand me?" His command was emphasized with the sound of paper crumpling in his fist. He was ruining her invitation.

(Y/N)'s tongue was too dry for her mouth, unable to form a single word.

In a blurry moment, she was aware of her father stretching across the space, throwing the stove door open to reveal the small fire confined to the space. He tossed the letter in, the seal melting and slopping off the page while the paper singed and blackened at the edges before ashing away.

"Do you understand me, (Y/N)? Look at me, and promise me you will not go."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the page burn away. How could she have let this happen?

"Do not take the last of my family away from me," her father pleaded, finally seeming to break through the cloud in her head.

"I will not go," she agreed in a distant voice. "I understand."

When her father wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) wanted to reciprocate with her heart though she could only do so with her arms.

—————

(Y/N) crawled on her hands and knees, ignoring her designated companion for the afternoon, as she weeded the herb garden. Lucy chattered away behind her as if they both didn't know (Y/N)'s head was miles away.

In her imagination, she was at the grandiose castle that no one else in her village had seen the way she had. She was there with the kindest man she had ever met, the man who cared for her in the middle of a storm when he could have kept moving and abandoned her to her own devices. She saw him when he rushed across the hallway, panicked that she might not be as well as he thought. She saw him as he positioned himself between her and the group of rowdy men spilling out of the pub. Those small things were more than she was sure he even knew, actions that someone who was practically a stranger wouldn't do unless they had a good heart.

She pinged between the castle, and back to the kitchen of her flat. There, she saw the way her father's eyes had blazed at her, anger boiling under his skin as he reminded her of what he had to lose should she end up one of those in the woods. She saw hints of the mourning man she had met after her mother's passing and her sister's departure. In the end, she knew he was nothing more than a scared father, seeing danger where she didn't. She had never seen him like that before.

Was she truly so blind? Her father was scared enough to shout and holler at her, keep her from ever spending a second alone, while she couldn't find a single clue as to what would make him think as much when it came to Harry. If she were being honest, she found him to be a better man than her sister's husband, and yet her father had been more than happy for Arabeth when she announced her engagement. Was her head truly so high up in the clouds that she could miss something so terribly wrong with Harry?

More than once, despite promising to her father that she wouldn't attend the dinner, she had considered what it would be like to go anyway. Though that thought never made it too far as soon as she remembered just how easily information like that would spread through the village—everyone was too nosy for their own good and would love to share a sighting of her up at the castle despite her vow. Besides, as dumbfounded as she was when it came to the aversion some felt to Harry, she couldn't deceive her father any more than she already had.

She loved and cared about her father, even if they were on the opposite sides of so many debates these days. He worried about her beyond reason at times, but she had to understand him. Even if that meant skipping out on the dinner party and going against the romantic heart sitting in her chest.

"Right, (Y/N)?" Lucy bubbled.

"Right," (Y/N) blindly answered, blinking out of her head. She didn't have a single idea of what exactly she was agreeing to, but it made Lucy happy.

She had given the right answer.

That was all that mattered.

—————

Twirling around on ornately beaded shoes, (Y/N) looked up in wonder at the castle walls covered in gorgeous, hand-painted patterns. Her dress fanned out around her like creamy frosting on a tea cake. From steps away, she could feel Harry's eyes on her as she traipsed around his home, adoring each and every detail she found.

"There is more, if you are ready to move on?" he offered, bouncing his eyebrows as if to tell her that she definitely wants to be ready to move on. She couldn't imagine what else he could show her on this tour that could top the places that had already blown her mind.

Nonetheless, she placed her palm in his offered hand, biting back a smile at the feel of his cool skin.

He guided her through the halls until they hit the back door. Outside, a garden awaited. Trees full of dripping wisteria greeted her, the lilac shining like the moon above. Lines of honeyed foxglove and velvet roses drew the boundaries around a perfect lawn. He pulled her along with him to the middle, beams of moonlight highlighting the pale shade of green he had dressed in for the occasion.

"Dance with me?" he asked her, coal eyes adoring over her features.

All it took was a nod of her head before she was pulled towards him, a symphony striking up without warning.

He twirled her through the grass, fallen wisteria petals kicking up around her gown, the roses swaying as if reaching out to touch them. Harry looked like a prince, complete with soft hands and a tender smile.

After twirling enough to get a giggle in her chest and head turning, Harry pulled her to his chest, settling down.

"I have missed you so, darling," he crooned, lips by her ear, "I fear I can no longer wait such stretches between seeing you—I don't have the strength to deprive myself." Looking up at him, she saw deep shadows cast across one half of his face while the other was bathed in the pastel light of the stars. "You take up more and more of my mind everyday."

An easy grin took place on her lips. He thought about her as much as she did he?

"Kiss me, darling."

Eagerly stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pucker her lips. She could feel the tip of his nose grazing her own, skin chilled against her heat.

The faintest brush of his lips against hers, lashes fluttering—

Breathing in a gasp, (Y/N) was pulled from her dreams. Despite her stilted breathing, her heart had never been so steady in her chest.

While she tried to never read too much into her dreams, she couldn't help but to feel as if this night had been a sign. She had just decided that tomorrow night, she would stay home as usual, skipping the immaculate dinner at the Count's home, only to find herself touring his grounds in her dreams.

She was supposed to join the fray tomorrow, she cemented. She would find a way to keep the event from her father, from the nosy neighbors, anything to keep the night from souring.

So many variables sung through her, asking how at all she would make it up to the castle without an escort, how she would even skirt past her father in the first place, how, how, how. (Y/N) ignored them all for the time being, instead allowing a smile to settle on her features as she laid back.

This time tomorrow, she would hopefully be in his arms.

—————

"Goodnight," (Y/N) pleasantly chirped, accepting her father's hug and kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight, love." His parting words were the last she heard from him before they both retreated to their separate bedrooms.

The moon was bright in the sky as she closed the door to her bedroom. With her window open just a crack, there was little sound tittering through the village. The only vestiges of the busy Friday came from the tavern down the block that was just beginning to gear up for the night.

While the prospect of others milling about the center of town was a worrying obstacle, (Y/N) was grateful for the kind of cover their presence would offer. The dinner party was set to begin in an hour, and she was going to have to sneak through town and up the winding path to the castle.

There was no way she was going to make it on time, given the fact she had to wait to ensure her father was truly asleep, ready herself to attend such an event, and make the trip sans carriage. It wasn't an impossible list of tasks, she just hoped that she would still make it in time for dessert.

Creeping across her room as quietly as possible, (Y/N) tried to prep herself as much as she could without alerting any of the creaky floorboards or sweeping too quickly through her room. She couldn't be sure exactly what her father could hear from his quarters. She couldn't risk him entering and finding her going against his direct wishes of staying away from the castle.

It wasn't until the only blinks of light came in the form of twinkling stars and a sliver of the moon, that (Y/N) was both ready and almost positive that her father was well asleep. She couldn't be completely sure of the latter unless she waltzed into the bedroom and saw him asleep with her own eyes, leaving her to assume the snoring she heard wasn't just an elaborate ruse on his part. Having raided her closet, attempting to find her most lavish of pieces, she was left in a plain purple dress with small beading here and there—it was the same gown she had worn to her sister's wedding, though it was nowhere near as ornate as what she could remember of Harry's estate. She hoped she would still be found acceptable at least.

Donning her cloak, she took the first step in her plan. Every move she made was calculated and careful as she pried open her window enough to slip through. Dangling her feet over the edge, she felt around for the small ledge offered underneath her window from the sloped awning that wrapped around the building. It wasn't anywhere near stable enough to hold her weight for long, but it was enough to help her down before skirting towards more stable avenues.

Her skirt caught on the sill for a lingering moment, keeping her from landing as gracefully as she had hoped on the textured ledge. With the heels of her boots clattering against the side of her home, (Y/N) cringed with her eyes crinkling closed. She could feel her heart in her ears, pumping against the confines of her throat as she waited for the slam of her father's door. Long, laborious moments passed before she realized with flooding relief that she had garnered no attention; her father was still well asleep and the patrons of the pub kept up their own noise down the street. She allowed herself then to carefully slide down the uneven awning on her bottom, until she could safely hop down to the soft soil at the back of her home.

The landing was nowhere near graceful, but it was silent. Straightening up and brushing off the debris that landed on her gown, (Y/N) allowed a small sense of accomplishment to take her. For her first time sneaking away, she had done alright for herself.

Peering at her herb garden instinctively, she could make out the gaze of her moon-eyed black cat. The kitten played with the bugs floating around, stopping for a moment to match (Y/N)'s eyes.

A small smile perked over her lips. She could only take this as a good sign—she was doing what she was meant to tonight.

The first few strides away from her home were done as quietly as possible, with her head down and hood of her cloak on. There was nothing going on in her head other than the hope and prayers that she would make it out of this without being caught. She wished the most pleasant and calming dreams upon her father, anything to keep him deeply in his sleep.

It was when she had cleared the block of her home without a single person spotting her that she had picked up the pace. The event had to have started at least a half an hour ago, and she had to hustle there if she wanted to experience any of the get-together before the festivities ended. If she was quick, she could make it to the castle within the hour.

That was if the dark didn't scare her off first, of course.

That juvenile fear followed her on her trek, breathing down her neck enough to push her into bursts of jogging over the path until she felt as if she had outran her invisible enemy. More than once, glancing towards the woods that weren't that far from the path, her active imagination was sparked, showing her all the things she hoped she would never truly see.

Forcing herself to keep her focus, (Y/N) did her best to keep her head down and attention placed on the tail end of the party she was eager to catch. Working over the steep hills and sloping declines, she attempted to push herself to go as fast as possible while still keeping her breath in her corset. Every time she looked ahead, she allowed a small celebration knowing that the castle was looming closer and closer with every pace.

As time ticked on and a bead of sweat dropped down the back of her dress, (Y/N) could only hope she made it in time and wasn't turned away despite the disheveled state she would no doubt turn up in.

Her legs pumped harder at the thought.

—————

(Y/N) didn't have much memory tied to the lawn of the castle from the last time she had visited. She wasn't even conscious during the arrival, and her departure had seen her entirely wrapped up in Harry himself. This left the sight of the foliage around the otherwise dreary exterior quite the sight.

As if she had conjured it herself, Harry had what could only be described as a grove of wisteria trees surrounding the grounds. Lavender petals swept across the ground, leaving what emulated a floral moat around the castle itself. From down in the village, she couldn't glimpse any of this, their forest having cut off sight of the magnificence. It was along the facade of the home that she saw long flower beds filled with the gaping mouths of foxglove stalks, blood red roses with thorn laden stems, and bushels of small white flowers growing from purple spotted stems. Hemlock, she knew them to be called—another poisonous variant Harry had unwittingly planted.

Out front, there wasn't a single carriage or horse awaiting its master's arrival. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but maybe the evening was going to drag so long that everyone's transportation had been shooed away for the time being.

Scaling the sloping hill that led up to the grandiose entrance of the castle, (Y/N)'s huffed breath created small puffs of white in front of her. Despite the chilled temperature, she was still overheated rom her strenuous trek all the way up.

Approaching the door, she gave herself a moment to primp over the details of her appearance. Pulling her hood from her head, she attempted to smooth out her hair, hoping the twine she had holding back specific strands could hold for a bit longer. Dabbing at her features with the neck of her cloak, she tried to eradicate any sweat that had prickled her features. Though she knew she was dressed nowhere near as nicely as she figured Harry's other friends would be, she still brushed her hands down her dress in a final act before raising her hand to knock at the door.

Her heartbeat stilled in her chest as she waited.

When she first heard the click of the knob on the other side, she immediately straightened her posture.

While there wasn't much she could expect, given there was nothing there for her to compare this evening to, (Y/N) definitely hadn't anticipated having Harry be the one to greet her. After finally meeting one of his staff, he had thought the footman that had delivered her invitation would be the one to deal with the menial task of welcoming her in (or shooing her away).

Instead, she was gifted with the sight of Harry in an all black getup. The only pops of color came in the form of a forest green cravat and the hint of rouge on his lips. She shied away at the thought of the flush coming from the mouth of a young woman. His skin was just as creamy as she remembered, the planes of his face cut and severe. Nonetheless, when he looked at her, softened edges jumped out, gentling even his dark gaze.

Making an effort to keep herself from floating over to him as if a moth to a black flame, (Y/N) rooted herself in her spot. "I am so sorry I'm late," she offered, her voice a bit watery and uneven, "I hope you can still accept me, despite the hour."

The smile that had filled her dreams bloomed across Harry's features, his rouged lips acting like rose petals.

"You are not late at all," he told her, eyes bright and dazzling, "I could never start without you, my guest of honor."

(Y/N) felt flushed as he welcomed her in with a flourish, bowing out of the way as if she had any right to that caliber of greeting.

"Guest of honor?" she asked, stepping over the threshold with shy paces. If she had known as much she would have ran less and dressed nicer.

"Did I not tell you?" he smiled, shutting the door behind her as she untied the neck of her cloak, "I thought I had put that on every invitation."

"I think it may have slipped your mind," she told him, playing along with his game.

Shrugging, he gave her a roguish smile, taking her cloak only to throw it across the back of a lounger planted in her foyer. "It may have." Sidling up next to her, he offered his arm for her to take. (Y/N) settled her hand in the crook of his elbow, biting back the fluttering grin that plucked at her lips. "I suppose we have time for that tour now that you're here, right?"

Instead of following right after him, (Y/N) turned to him with confusion knitting her brows. She knew he had to be a bit unconventional given his reclusive status, but she figured he knew better than this.

"But, your guests. Should we not join them for dinner?"

Amusement lit up his features, shatters of green appearing in his irises. Dipping his chin as he looked at her, he whispered, "May I share a secret with you?"

(Y/N) couldn't help but to fall into a conspiratorial role with him. She had hoped she would earn a chance to learn everything about him. "Of course, you may."

Harry huffed a laugh at her intrigue. Ducking his head, he positioned his mouth by her ear. He was close enough she could feel a chill radiating from his skin, his breath fanning across her own.

"I only invited you."

Rearing back, (Y/N) felt both flattered and bewildered by his admission. "But," she started, searching his eyes for any kind of tease, "I thought this was supposed to be a party. It's not much of one if there's only me."

He gave her a shrug, shoulder bouncing with her hand still settled in the bend of his elbow. "Why would I invite others if I am only wishing to see you?"

Flattery won out over the bewilderment she felt then, a shy smile taking her features. The only way she knew she wasn't dreaming was the degraded state of her dress—she always dressed herself immaculately in her imagination.

"I am especially happy I could make it, then," she decided, peeking up at him through the fan of her lashes.

The feel of his gaze tracing over her face had (Y/N) straightening her posture with a tickle going down her spine. It was if he were taking note of everything, keeping her expressions to himself for later. A pleased smile plucked at the corner of his lips at whatever he found as he dropped his gaze down her neck.

"I am, too; more than you know," he shared after a heartbeat, collecting himself before setting his gaze forward. He bobbed his arm under her grip, edging her towards the grand. "Shall we?"

Though she felt a touch of deja-vu, finding herself in another predicament where she was unchaperoned with Harry at her side once more, (Y/N) was beginning to no longer care what even her father would say should he catch her. No wonder Harry kept to himself and did as he pleased—it was rather satisfying.

With the silence their only companion, she nodded her head.

"We shall."

A dazzling smile spread over his lips.

—————

(Y/N) was enchanted as she traipsed through Harry's home, her hold on him being the only thing keeping her from being lured away by whatever trinket or art piece that caught her eye. He pointed things out as they went, allowing her to fawn over the grandness he lived in. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a fond smile on his lips as he watched her. Though she didn't have an exact idea of what it was like to go on a promenade through royal grounds for a courting date, she figured this is what it felt like.

His home reflected his personal taste for dark colors and luxurious details. Vases full of the purple blossom she had found out front lined the halls, mixing with the musk of the familiar herbs she sold to him. Deep greens seemed to be the running theme through the color scheme, allowing any other hue to emulate a bloom through the brush of the forest floor, or the night sky peeking through the canopy of trees. There were rooms upon rooms shielded behind heavy walnut doors, no less than a handful down each hall he took her to. There were too many for (Y/N) to keep track of, though Harry seemed to know exactly what was behind each door without a moment's thought; even when she swore they had been turned around and looped in a circle, he knew just where they were with a description of every hidden room.

With the sheer amount of space he was showing her, Harry didn't have time to show her every single room, to push open the door and introduce her to the space, instead offering the highlights as they went. (Y/N)'s favorites came in the form of a budding library (the walls were complete shelves along with freestanding cases that cozied up a sitting area in the middle; the shelves held enough books to keep anyone busy for over a year but there was still room to grow, giving the possibility to read for a lifetime when full), an adorably grey tea room, and a painter's studio set up for portraits. Even with those spaces that took (Y/N)'s breath and sparked a world of imagination, her most preferred spot was the newly erected structure out behind the castle. It was a greenhouse, he'd said. An entire home the size of her own flat with the sole purpose of nursing and growing any and every kind of plant.

"It's a budding interest of mine," he said when they had stopped to admire the glass-paneled house through a stretching window of the castle, "You've inspired me."

It was like he knew that would have her blood warming and her teeth sinking into the pillow of her bottom lip.

Soon enough they turned down a hallway familiar to (Y/N). This was the same wing that housed her room he boarded her in during the storm.

"Remember this?" he prodded with raised brows, taking her down the walkway.

Tipping her head back, she set her sights on the ceiling. Above was the same muted floral mural that had been painted across the rest of the castle ceiling. With her eyes following the thorned vibes through the different blooms, (Y/N) absently nodded her head.

"This is where my room is."

It wasn't until she heard his huffed laugh that she realized what she had said. Her eyes rounded out in horror with embarrassment warming her skin.

"I-I'm so sorry—I misspoke—"

"It's alright," he soothed her, flexing his arm under her hold, "You are the only guest to have ever stayed in this room, so it is yours in my eyes as well."

Harry led her towards the chambers, pushing open the door as if it was another new space for her to explore. Inside, it was just as she remembered, thick velvets and cozy furs. Another bouquet of flowers was delicately perched on the table as if in wait for her. The only difference came in the ornate wardrobe that was now pushed against the wall in front of the four-poster bed. The doors were wide open, showcasing whatever hung inside though from where she stood, (Y/N) couldn't see a single stitch of what it was.

"Go take a look," he told her, dropping his arm as he urged her forward.

Without the anchor of his body, (Y/N) drifted towards the open wardrobe, her hands a bundle at her waist. When she saw what exactly had been showcased inside, she felt her jaw fall into a gape.

Hung up on a satin wrapped hanger was the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. The fabric was glimmering and slick like silk, redder than anything she had ever seen—as if the fibers had been dyed with fresh blood. The skirt was full, layers of crinoline underneath though the overlay still draped and folded atop the filler. The bodice was a stiff corset, cut with scooping neckline that made (Y/N) want to blush at what it would look like on, tapering straps holding the whole garment upright on the hanger. She kept herself from reaching out to turn the dress, though she wanted to know if she really did see the edge of a bow stationed at the waist for it there was even more dress to be fawned over.

"What do you think?" Harry prodded, his voice closer behind her than she remembered.

She kept her eyes forward, on the crimson masterpiece. She could only imagine how long it would take to craft something so stunning.

"It is gorgeous," she sighed. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she turned to look at him with a pleasant smile on her lips. She wasn't here as the guest of honor to give out her fashion advice. "Just like the rest of your home," she recovered as if she hadn't been standing, staring at the dress for a handful of minutes, "Breath-taking."

His pale lavender lids were on display as he looked at her through the fan of his lashes, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "Thank you," he told her, "But, what about the gown?"

"Oh," she sounded, happily taking the excuse to lay her eyes upon the dress once more. Was it possible more of the skirt had unfurled, as if the fabric was closer to that of a blooming rose than a stationary garment? "I've never seen anything more beautiful," she shared honestly, "It would be impossible to find anything to compare."

"You won't have to worry about that," he mused, stepping around her to pull the hanger from the rod. "Since this one is yours already."

(Y/N)'s jaw dropped at his declaration. Her eyes downturned as she took in the full of the gown, unsure of what exactly to say to such a claim.

"I-I," she floundered, unable to find her words, "I'm sorry?"

Harry looked genuinely pleased with her reaction, proud of himself for finding something she clearly loved so much. "I had this made for you," he told her, presenting the gown to her as he held it up, "When I decided that I wanted to invite you over, I figured I couldn't exactly celebrate my guest of honor without a gift. I hope I didn't assume too much, but I thought you might even like to wear it this evening."

She had been struck speechless as she listened. Not once had she ever received a gift so grand, so gorgeously outside of her means.

"But, please," Harry continued when she didn't give an answer, his expression falling some though he tried to hide it, "Do not take this as something you have to accept if you do not want it. You look wonderful already—heartbreakingly so, if I'm honest—and I do not want to force you to change if you'd rather not."

Unable to hold back her own plume of laughter, (Y/N) shook her head. In what world would her refashioned nightgown look heartbreakingly wonderful? As she had said before, there was nothing that could compare to this dress.

There had to be etiquette that came with accepting a gift of this caliber, but (Y/N) preferred to use her ignorance to her advantage at the moment. It couldn't be considered too offensive if she loved something he had made just for her.

"I love it," she reiterated, sneaking a cautious hand out to trace her fingertips over the silken fabric, "I would love to wear it tonight, Harry."

He brightened immediately at her acceptance, relief touching his features now that he was no longer floundering over his present. "I'm glad," he cemented, laying the garment on the edge of the bed with a flourish, "I will give you a moment to change before we start for dinner, if that's alright?"

While the draw of the gown was significant, (Y/N) kept her eyes on the man who had given it to her. A giddy smile was on her lips as she looked up at him. With this gift, she would almost look as if she belonged at his side—it would make sense to see her on his arm to a stranger's eyes.

"Thank you, Harry."

Bowing out of the room, he stopped to tip his head to her. "It is my pleasure, darling."

—————

Having had enough practice with tying her own corsets and stuffing herself into various dresses for church and other village-wide occasions after her sister moved away, (Y/N) didn't take much time to change into the crimson couture. She had lingered over the process a bit, savoring the feel of the expensive fabric and the novelty tying system on the back (there really was a bow at the bustle, too!), but she had been more excited to meet with Harry once again. Once she had the dress adorning her body—the piece a perfect fit—, she had spotted a few extra pieces lying around the wardrobe that she couldn't help but to use to her advantage.

A pair of beaded red slippers were snug in the corner of the wardrobe, levels above what she currently had on her feet and had trekked up to his castle in. On a shelf built in above the rod the dress had previously been hung up on, were a pair of long white gloves—the kind (Y/N) could only picture on a princess. She couldn't help herself as she drew on the gloves, the satin glimmering alongside her dress. Using the twine she already had in her hair, she tried to twist her strands into something more elaborate to match her new attire. When she finished, she had settled on an updo, keeping everything out of the way as to show off the gown in its entirety.

Looking at herself in the mirror, (Y/N) had never seen herself in such a light. The scooping neckline of the dress showed off more skin than she knew a woman could even show in public, the swells of her breasts pushed up and swelling over the corset. The skirt draped itself over her form, creasing and folding in waves that flourished out before hitting the ground. Turning to the side, she could glimpse the bow that had been fastened to the bustle of her dress, a detail she loved more than she had thought. Her gloves came up to the mid of her bicep, the addition making her feel more regal than she had any business to. She felt the only thing missing was a rouge to be swiped over her lips and a red flush to her cheeks.

Leaving behind her now designated room, her rudimentary gown left behind in a puddle on the floor, (Y/N) half expected Harry to be stationed across the hall from her like the last time she had emerged. Instead, she found herself alone in the stretching corridor. Her heels clicked over the floor as she made her way down.

While she had already had an eyeful of the space the pair of times she had been escorted down this same hall, she still found something new to look at with every turn of her head. If not for the fact Harry had to be waiting for her on the other side of the castle, she could have luxuriated for hours here.

Traipsing through for the first time on her own, (Y/N) noticed small details she had overlooked in Harry's presence—particularly the lack of staff. Other than the footman she had seen a week prior, there didn't seem to be anyone else here with Harry despite the size of his home. She would have figured there was a team of people, different departments and leads that would have been tasked with taking care of the grounds, the different wings, everything. And yet, she seemed to be the only beating heart around.

Perhaps he wanted to have privacy for the night, she figured. Harry definitely was the type to request something of the sort.

Retracing her steps until she found the same set of grand stairs Harry had escorted her down after she recovered from her fainting spell during the storm, (Y/N) was proud of herself for navigating the maze that was this castle. Just as she crested the mezzanine before the final set of steps to the ground floor, she caught sight of her waiting prince.

Harry seemingly hadn't realized she was there as she caught him cozying up to a familiar black cat. She could hear the low murmurs of his croons to the moon-eyed kitten, petting his fingers under the scruff of her neck while she leaned into his touch. (Y/N) couldn't contain her own coo once she saw him press a kiss between the cat's ears.

With that, he realized he was no longer alone, having been caught doling out affection to what (Y/N) had previously thought to be a stray.

"(Y/N)," he started, gently setting the kitten down back on her paws before she scurried away. He still hadn't looked at her as he brushed his hands down the front of his coat, "I am so sorry. I hadn't realized you were—"

His words were suddenly stuck in his throat when he cast his gaze upon her.

(Y/N) have never seen him at a loss for words before, his dark eyes wide with mouth in a soft gape as looked at her. While she had felt his eyes on her before, this moment was different than what she had experienced prior. It was as if his hands were on her, fingertips glancing down her throat, sweeping over her collarbones and cleavage. Her bare skin was chilled where she swore she felt his eyes linger, goosebumps awakening. Was this how he felt when she looked at him? Could he feel how drawn to him she was? Was her romantic heart too high up in the clouds as she assumed that he could experience that similar warm chest and twirling gut that she did when she saw him?

There were intentions behind his eyes—more than what was acceptable for him to say out loud.

"You look... I don't think there are any words that could describe how you look right now, actually."

Despite the shy peal of laughter his words elicited from (Y/N), he was thoroughly serious as he spoke. The sentiment only made her heart flutter in her chest.

"Thank you," she smiled, descending the stairs. Harry didn't hesitate to offer her his arm when she reached the landing, pride puffing his chest when she took it without question. "I hope it's alright I'm using a little extra I found in the wardrobe."

"It is more than alright," he beamed at her, dazzling smile to match the fractures of green swimming to the surface of his coal eyes, "Everything in there is yours now."

"You don't mean that," she laughed off, diligently following him as he brought her to the dining room.

"The whole wing could be yours if you asked," he countered, his offer seemingly serious despite his grin.

Before she could argue, he pushed open a grand door, leading her into the dining room. Inside, a long table sat at the center of the room. Ornate candles lit the space, showcasing hints of gold and shining onyx among the otherwise muted room. On the table was a feast (Y/N) had never seen the likes of before.

Meats, cheeses, wines, and breads were placed all throughout on pristine china. Steam rolled off the dishes in alluring waves, like the smoke from a candle freshly snuffed. How his staff had pulled something off so elaborate without making a single noise, she couldn't comprehend, but she wasn't about to start asking questions in the face of greatness.

"My goodness," she murmured. Looking at this spread, she was suddenly grateful that she had taken such an exhaustive route up here. She had all the room in the world to try everything in front of her.

"I was unable to ask for your favorites before tonight, but I hope you'll find something to your liking," Harry prattled, much too modest given the sight before them.

"I have no doubt," (Y/N) responded, allowing Harry to guide her to an empty chair at the head of the table.

Once he helped her settle in, he took his own seat on the opposite end of the table. "I hope you don't mind," he started, a goblet in hand already filled with a deep wine, "But I told my staff to take the night off. We'll have to serve ourselves, but this way we'll have more privacy." A beat passed before a furrow appeared in his brows. "Unless you would prefer their presence. I know this is our first formal meeting, so..."

"No, no, it's alright," she waved him off, not feeling the need to have others present while she dined with him. Besides, she would hate to have been promised the night to herself only to be called back. "I think we'll be able to keep a handle on ourselves."

(Looking down, she just missed the way Harry looked at her with his dark eyes gleaming and a shrewd curl to his lips at her words).

While it was surely odd for Harry, (Y/N) didn't mind serving herself—she did it every day, anyway. With her eyes bigger than her stomach, she couldn't help but to overfill her plate with the way she wanted a bite of everything. Before she knew it, there were three different cheeses, more kinds of dinner bread than she knew even existed, and helpings of figgy chicken, creamy potatoes, and rosemary scented greens. If she could get away with it, she would be grabbing seconds.

Flicking her gaze up when she realized just how rude it must be to be so engrossed in her meal when her host and sole company was just across the table, she found his eyes already on her over the rim of his wine glass. The crystal just barely hid the amused curl of his lips.

"I apologize," she mumbled, dropping her gaze though she could still feel his eyes on her features.

"No need," he said, waving her off, "I'm glad you want to try everything."

Eased some, she picked up one of the gleaming silver forks complimenting her place setting and began picking at her food. "Do you have any favorites?" she questioned, feeling a bit silly to be asking what his favorite food was.

He shrugged in response, canting his head some as he raised his wine glass. "I tend to favor the wine at a dinner party, if 'm honest." She watched as he took another sip, the deep red color seemingly staining the crystal. The center of his lips even seemed to take on the dye, emulating that tint of rouge he had started the night with. The wine lingered in the bowl of his glass, seemingly thicker than any spirit she had seen before. "I'd rather hear about your favorites, (Y/N)," Harry said, tipping his head towards her with his features lit up with the amber candlelight.

A small curl tugged at her lips then. It was an interesting feeling, being so drawn to him and finding comfort in his presence, then remembering that he didn't even know the color of the rainbow she preferred or the season she thrived the most under. Trivialities didn't seem so important when there was that innate need to be around him.

"What do you want to know?" she preened, unsure of where to start when it came to herself.

The reflection of the candlelight emulated stars in his eyes as he fixed his gaze to her. His eyes felt like a pair of hands on her body once more.

It was only when he flicked them up to match her own, that he spoke again:

"Everything."

—————

"... I had never seen my sister so mad at me before," (Y/N) laughed, setting her chin in her hand, unconsciously leaning towards Harry from where he relocated to sit at her side.

The dinner part of the evening had ended some time ago, (Y/N) satisfied with her fill while Harry nursed his never-ending glass of wine. The attention had shifted then, turning to any anecdote of information he could pull out of her on his quest to learn the everything he requested to know about her. Soon enough the space between served to be too much for either of their liking, ending with Harry sidling up beside her, taking one of the unoccupied seats at her side. The intensity of his gaze was unwavering as he listened to anything and everything she had to say, unwilling to miss a single detail no matter how minute the story it was that she shared. More than once (Y/N) had attempted to redirect some of the conversation to him, only for him to casually mention the kinds of travels he'd been on and the people he'd met before he brushed it off in favor of hearing more of her voice. She wondered if he even knew just how intriguing he was, how fascinating his own stories would be to someone like her, who had stayed in the same village all her life.

"I could imagine," he smiled at her, the cut planes of his features having melted down into soft curves and rounded edges, "You sound like you were a little terror."

(Y/N) was prepared to counter his teasing remark when the echoing chime sounded from the grandfather clock stationed at the head of the room. The heavy gonging detailed out the time having turned into midnight—much later than (Y/N) had anticipated staying out when she had snuck out at nine.

Her shoulders fell when she realized that her night had to be coming to an end soon.

"What is wrong?" Harry asked, picking up on the decline in her expression.

"It's getting very late—later than I thought," she started, turning to him with regret ready on her features, "I won't be able to stay much longer if I don't want anyone noticing I'm gone."

Harry finally seemed to pick up on the time then. She had shyly shared with him earlier that she hadn't exactly gained permission to join him for the evening, and had still gone anyway, making it so her cover for the night had to be pristine should she want to keep herself out of trouble.

"I suppose it is rather late," he mused, a pinch appearing between his brows as he stared at the clock, "But, we still have some time, don't we? I don't know if I'm ready to send you home yet."

The flattery went straight through the ladder of her ribs and to her heart as she listened to him. While she knew better than to linger longer than what she could handle, she knew she wasn't ready for the evening to end either.

"I just do not want to scare my father again, not after I had disappeared during the storm."

"Was he very upset?" he asked, concern in his eyes when he turned to face her.

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth. It wasn't a particularly light topic bringing up the reaction her neighbors had when it came to him. "I hadn't told him that I was with you that night, but I think he knew anyway. There are some... gossips in the village that I think tried to convince him that you had hurt me or tried to keep me away from home."

His brow creased further at her words. "I am well aware that there are some... unsavory attitudes present when it comes to me and the fact that I don't associate much with the day-to-day of the village and that there have been concerns when it comes to what is being found in the woods, but," Harry paused, his gaze intent on hers with the shattered green of his eyes floating in his irises, "You know I would never hurt you, right, (Y/N)? I care about you—more than I probably should, but the last thing I would ever want is to bring you harm."

She was not the person that needed to be convinced of his intentions, (Y/N) having seen the genuine concern in his eyes when she woke from her fainting spell, having felt his soft touch, having heard the gentle way he spoke to her as if she were a wounded animal. She knew where his intentions lied and she felt safe within them, but she was still taken aback at the clear set of his eyes, honesty lining his features. She had never doubted him before, but now there was no room for any kind of counter argument that could wiggle in the back of her mind.

"I believe you," she told him, her voice a sudden whisper as if sharing a secret not to be heard by the walls, "I know you better than they do, and I'll trust your intentions over any rumor. I trust you."

Harry's eyes rounded out as he listened to her, taking in her genuine take the same way she had his.

"Thank you," he smiled, matching the soft volume of her voice. Glancing once more at the clock, Harry stood to the full of his height with his hand outstretched towards her, "I don't want to land you in any trouble, but if you have some extra time to spare with me, there was one more place I wanted to show you before the night is over."

She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm in his, the chill of his skin leaving no other effect but goosebumps on her own.

—————

(Y/N)'s heels clicked on the glossy, black floor under their feet as Harry escorted her to a grand set of double doors they had initially passed by during his tour. He held a proud smile on his lips when he pushed the door open, the hinges gliding without a noise.

Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) was drawn in by the sprawling ballroom inside. It was the kind of space that would fit in perfectly for royalty, she thought as she fawned over the sparkling floors and high ceilings. Green and gold accented the space, more flowers spilling out here and there. The walls were elaborately furnished with filigree and art, mirrors strategically placed as if the space didn't look big enough on its own.

"I've never actually used this room before," Harry murmured, following after her as she took in the space.

"How could you not?" she answered in awe, twirling around in search of every detail, "I would host parties every night with something like this."

There was amusement in his tone when he responded, "I think it's rather obvious that I didn't care much for other's company—except for you, of course."

Her skin warmed at his words. He was teasing her again. She didn't know what to say, only biting back a shy smile as she settled on her feet, turning to find him already looking at her with a clear gaze.

"I was hoping, before the night is over, that you might dance with me."

Harry offered her a pale hand, his features softened in wait for her response.

She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm over his, fingers curling into a hold. "But there's no music?" she said, canting her head.

Pulling her towards him, Harry matched her gaze. "That's nothing to worry about," he shared, his voice suddenly a low secret between the two.

While (Y/N) didn't exactly understand how he was going to replicate any music without a single musician present, she didn't have time to ask before he was placing a firm hand on her waist and clasping their joined hands in a stiff hold. Instinctively, (Y/N) settled her own hand on his shoulder falling in line with his moves.

(Y/N) was far from well versed in the proper moves needed to pull off any kind of elaborate routine, but as she looked into his eyes, she didn't need to think before she fell in line with Harry's guidance. After only a moment, the clacking of her heels the only noise, suddenly the ballroom was filled with the delicate singing of a violin and thrumming keys from a pianoforte.

She wanted to turn her head, to see if there was a hidden stage that she had missed, but she held her gaze steady with Harry's. A dazzling smile pulled at his features, his hand squeezing at her waist as he twirled them around.

"Better?" he murmured, his voice mixing with the music.

She could only manage a nod of her head, her own lips beginning to curl to mimic the set of his own.

Taking a deep breath into her lungs, (Y/N) dropped herself squarely in the moment. This was everything her romantic heart had always desired: flourishing music while she twirled in a gown made only by the finest hands, a handsome, heart-fluttering partner at her side. Poems were written with the sole purpose of attempting to put into words what the feeling she had in her chest was like. Paintings were made depicting the light that came with dancing with one's beloved. Her own dreams urged her to find something like this in her lifetime.

Time stood still where she was, feeling the cool weight of Harry's hand in her, and the effortless gliding he evoked from her. The music swelled and dipped, taking her through the seasons with Harry twirling and holding her every hour. It could have been days that she stayed there, her eyes fluttered closed with a quiet smile on her face, and she would have barely realized.

Blinking her eyes open, she saw Harry looking down at her. This was her one—the man in her sonnet, the one in her portrait, who she'd seen in her dreams.

"I wish I knew what the inside of your head was like," he told her, drawing her away from him only to twirl her in a swirl of crimson. He brought her back to his chest, his hand on her waist slipping to loop around the curve—highly inappropriate though (Y/N) wouldn't dream of stopping him.

"It is nothing special," she shied away from his words, turning her head as he led them around in the ballroom in a structured circle.

"I doubt that," he said, dipping lower until his lips were at her ear, "You are nothing less than absolutely special, (Y/N)."

Harry drew her away from him once more, holding his hand up above her head as she was twirled. As she spun, she just barely caught her reflection in the gilded framed mirror hung on the wall. The slash of her red dress caught her eye first, bright against the deep green and dark shades splashed throughout the space.

But the most jarring part of the sight was the fact that she was dancing alone.

Harry was nowhere to be seen in that small glimpse, her hand holding nothing but the thin air.

Before she could truly catch any kind of detail, she had been spun away and back to Harry's chest.

Not even a single heartbeat of time had been missed while (Y/N)'s skin erupted into goosebumps. What an odd trick of the light, she thought. She must have had more wine than she initially figured.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, keeping her firm against his chest though now there was a cream between his brows.

Shaking her head, (Y/N) cast that glimpse out of her head. It wouldn't have been that hard for him to blend in with the rest of the ballroom, she argued, with the way he was dressed in all black.

"Yes, I'm alright. Just a little dizzy, I think," she laughed, tightening her hold on his hand. If she really was growing that dizzy and the effects of the wine hitting her that hard, she was going to have to make a real effort to stay upright.

"Stay close, darling," Harry murmured, "I've got you."

(Y/N) all but keened at his words, doing as he said and happily staying close to him with the planes of his chest pressing against her corseted breasts. The music reached heights and valleys around them, the strings of the violin singing in a tenor (Y/N) had never dreamed of hearing so smooth. She was transfixed in the moment, twirling and stepping, allowing Harry to guide her every which way. Even when her inadequacy showed, he kept his hold on her strong, catching her through the stumbles with a small smile as if a promise to keep that misstep between them and this empty ballroom.

A gasp left her lips when Harry stopped them only to fluidly dip her backwards with his face hovering over hers. He held her steady with his arms turning into steady bars around her back and her own looping around his neck. Her gasp turned into a fluff of giggles leaving her throat, never having felt anything like this before. Harry laughed with her, lingering in that stance as she dropped her head back, extending her neck with her eyes closed.

Time stood still then, (Y/N) luxuriating in the feel of faux-floating in his arms. She swallowed when she felt the icy touch of the very tip of his nose skimming the column of her throat. She felt her lips stretch into a dreamy smile as she cracked her eyes open.

To the side of them, hanging from its gilded frame, was the opulently large mirror she had peeked at a handful of minutes prior. This time, when she peered at her reflection, she could no longer deny what she had seen before.

With her eyes wide, (Y/N) saw herself hovering in mid-air, no other soul present in the ballroom. There were indents in her dress where she knew Harry was holding her, where her skirt flared around their feet and had been pushed back by his legs. But she was the only one seen in the reflection.

Her mouth dropped into a gape, a quiet gasp falling from between her lips.

"(Y/N)?" he started, righting her position as she went stiff in his arms. She couldn't tear her eyes off of the mirror, watching as the space around her interacted with her with phantom hands. "What is wrong? What are you—"

In that moment, though she could only see him from the corner of her eye, she figured Harry had to have caught on to what she was seeing—or not seeing, really.

That pause in the universe as they danced finally resumed in that moment, the trance broken. (Y/N) scrambled out of his arms, dropping her own from around his neck as she stepped back. Her heels clacked over the floor, her skirt dragging. There was no more music tinkling through the space, only echoing silence.

A pinch knitted her brows together, her head tipping as if she could catch another angle and suddenly see Harry in the glass.

"D-Do you see it, too?" she whimpered, hoping against all odds that she wasn't losing her mind right now. What was in that wine?

"(Y/N)," he started, stepping towards her with the movement echoing in the silent hall, "I can explain."

That had her whirling around in her spot, decidedly moving out of reach from. His response was far from reassuring.

"What?" she sounded. What was there to explain? All he was supposed to tell her was that yes, he saw his reflection missing too, but that mirror had always been faulty—he was working on fixing the issue, it was nothing for her to worry about.

This time when she looked at him, (Y/N) swore Harry's eyes had grown darker. The smatterings of green had shied away, leaving only the coal-like expanses against his pale skin.

He was real, right in front of her. She felt the planes of his body, the strength of his grip. She had seen him through the village, let him hold her, she had seen him interact with others as well. Why couldn't the mirror see him?

"A-Are you a ghost?" (Y/N) choked out, feeling as crazy as her question sounded. Mary and Ethel would be proud of the nonsensical explanation her brain had handed her.

When she saw him roll his lips between his teeth, gaze flitting past her and towards the mirror at her back, (Y/N) felt her spine stiffen.

"Not quite," he started, expression grim, "It's complicated."

While she hadn't exactly had a preferred response in mind, she figured it would have been better than a simple declaration of it’s complicated. (Y/N) began backing away from him then, clarity entering her mind in a chilling sweep.

Her head had been so in the clouds, luxuriating amongst the swelling music and fanciful notes. She had been too preoccupied with everything Harry, the way she was drawn to him, keening under his attention and mooning over every word of flattery he gave her. Now, details began to fall into place.

His skin, in her hand and pressed to her chest—even through layers of clothing—was cold. She had never given it much thought, just assuming that he was one of the few that ran colder than others and took the chills easier. Now, she could only see the pale pallor of his skin and the temperature and wonder how easily he would fit in with the corpses found in the forest. His eyes were always so dark, (Y/N) barely unable to differentiate the center from the iris, only when she squinted and took the time could she pick out the shades of green inside. Normal people didn't just... lose their reflection. Mirrors caught it all, no matter how dingy or foggy. Harry was invisible to the glass.

Her eyes dropped to the center of his lips where the pillows housed a small tint, red and warm.

"What are you?"

When he took a cautious step towards her, (Y/N) all but stumbled back, itching to keep the current chasm of space between them. Harry stopped where he stood then, dropping his gaze from hers.

(Y/N)'s heartbeat sounded in her ears while she awaited his response.

"It is... hard to explain," he answered, "Can I show you something that might help? My library—I can show you there—"

Drowning out the rest of his words over a rush of blood pumping through her body, (Y/N) stared at him. Her insides twisted as he took in more and more of him. Her father had always said that with her head so far up in the clouds, the fall was going to shatter her when it happened. It appeared that fall was happening now.

Was he really a demon like the church women said? Was he the predator that committed those heinous acts scattered about the woods? Warnings had been everywhere: the way she was drawn to him like a moth to a singing flame, the way he reeled her in wish his unmatched beauty, and the way everyone around her seemed to know better. She had willingly walked into the lion's den, though there was no telling what kind of beast had truly laid claim to the territory. She was nothing but a stray bunny, a lamb separated from the flock, that had witless fallen into a trap.

"(Y/N)," Harry said, his voice cutting through her whirling thoughts, "Please. Don't be afraid of me." She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his features tight with shining eyes. "I promised you, remember? That I would never harm you. You said you believed me."

Despite how disconnected she wanted to be, (Y/N) felt something in her chest crack as she listened to him. She was scared and confused, overwhelmed by the unknown that was standing in the room with her, but there was still the person she did know there as well. And that person looked heartbroken.

"I just don't understand," she whimpered, fearing the volume of her own voice.

A spark returned to him then, hearing her response. "I can explain," he said, stepping away from her towards a pitch black chaise lining the wall, "Give me a moment, and I will explain as much as I can."

She was sure she was meant to take his lead, joining him on the velvet cushion, but her feet didn't allow more than a drag. She wanted to understand him, but she could understand him just fine without crawling in his lap. Instead, (Y/N) followed him far enough to watch as he took his seat from where she stood a meter away.

"(Y/N)—"

"Tell me," she started, her voice bursting through before she had given much permission, "Are you—... You're not human, are you?"

Her words hung in the air between them, echoing through the too big, too silent ballroom. She didn't need to hear him to know what his answer was.

"No. I'm not."

Harry had his eyes fixed on her, watching for every reaction she gave. (Y/N) wished she could have been stoic like the elder women of the village, or less reactionary like her sister, instead she was an open book doling out every reaction on a silver platter for him to consume. While she had been expecting as such, her head would never—could never—comprehend the answer he gave.

"I am what is called a vampyr," he cautiously continued after a moment.

With her mouth agape, she watched him, waiting for more of an explanation than some unknown word.

"What does that even mean?" she peeped when he said nothing more.

This time, Harry avoided her eyes as he searched for the right words. He leant forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees as he dropped his gaze to center on the glossy floor. Only if he peeked through his lashes could he see her.

"It means," he started, a heavy breath pushing his lungs to expand, "That, I am dead. But, I am able to be among the living."

The edges of (Y/N)'s vision began to swirl as she tried to comprehend what he was so simply serving to her.

Dead.

Harry is dead. But, here he was, living and breathing, blinking with his heart steady in his chest, right in front of her.

She breathlessly tried to ask for more information, though barely any thought came from her mouth. "Wh-W—Dead?"

Flicking his head up, Harry hesitantly matched her eyes. "My heart no longer beats, but, still, here I am," he offered, tone gentle and forgiving, "I don't know how it's possible, but I've been existing this way for a long time. I don't understand it either, (Y/N)."

Her lungs felt stunted as she couldn't help her own eyes from dropping to his chest, where any normal human's heart would be pumping blood through full veins. She thought, if she waited long enough ,started hard enough, that she could prove him wrong somehow. What if Harry had it all wrong, that he had been convinced by someone—something—that he wasn't like anyone else? Here she could prove to him (and herself) that his heart was beating and he was alive and everything she had slowly been putting together was nothing more than the effects of too much wine and an overactive imagination.

Alas, there was no bold evidence that his heart was hammering against his chest as hers was. Instead, he was silently still, skin pale and chilled.

She fell to the ground then, her dress fanning around her form with her hands limp in her lap. Looking at Harry with pleading eyes, she wanted nothing more than for this to be a cruel joke.

"Bu—Harry?"

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry closed his eyes, unable to continue watching as she crumbled under the weight of the truth.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't have any answers on why or how," he started, feeling as pained as she, "All I know is that I woke up this way after a night I can't remember, and have been attempting to figure it out since."

She canted her head, observing him as he sat with his eyes shuttered. "But you... You don't look dead?"

This seemed to be the wrong question to ask as he dropped his head, leaving (Y/N) from gleaning anything from his expression. "There are things I need to be able to maintain myself or I would wither away like any other person, but..."

"It's complicated?" (Y/N) finished for him, feeling the lame weight of the explanation on her tongue.

Harry nodded his head, keeping his gaze down. "It's complicated."

(Y/N) base level instincts wanted her to run, bolt from the castle and make her way back home in a puddle of tears and seek out the shelter of her father. Harry's half-explanations and full deceptions should be enough of a warning sign to compliment the red flags others around her had seen and pushed her to acknowledge.

Despite it all, as she sat, watching him wrestle with his speaking his own words as much as she was hearing them, she made no move to leave. Maybe she hadn't completely crashed down just yet, because she swore the longer she sat here, streaks of intrigue and curiosity sparked through her head.

Besides, through the muck and the revelations slowly sweeping over her, a near silent thought in the back of her head reminded her that he promised he'd never hurt her. If he had truly wanted to harm her, he would have done it by now, right?

"What do you mean that it's complicated?" she asked before she had even given permission for her thoughts to float around the room.

"I have had to do things—things I am not proud of—to be able to stay alive—or whatever I am. But, I am trying to move past them and grow into something more," he told her, his words turning into a plea as he finally matched her gaze, "I promise I am different now."

That base instinct inside of her triggered a gut feeling (Y/N) couldn't ignore. Flashes of the woman she found in the woods blinked through her memory, her nightmares intermingling with the grotesque sight.

"The people in the woods," she murmured, unsure of what she wanted out of bringing this up. She wasn't asking, but she hoped Harry had an answer for her, though she feared what that might be.

Harry looked to her with a clear gaze, his shoulders sloping in defeat. He looked pained as he fought to pick out the right words for her. "That is not me," he told her, though he looked far from finished, "But, it's who I used to be. I have not done... that in a very long time, but Mitchell—m-my footman—he-he's trying to learn. He doesn't know how to contain himself yet, but he will."

Vividly, (Y/N) could recall the sight of the bloodless corpse, all color leached from the woman's features. The frayed column of her throat, ripped out of the way in favor of the flesh and muscle underneath. The woman had been deliberately stowed away, carefully placed after being mauled and used until she had nothing left to give. The memory warped until Harry was standing over the woman's body, blood cascading down his mouth and soiling his clothing

A shudder wracked down her spine.

She remembered thinking just how impossible it would be for a human to do what she had seen.

"You've done that to others before?" she whispered, fearing how badly her voice would crack if she attempted anything louder.

Hanging his head in shame, Harry nodded his head. "It's been almost a hundred years, but yes."

A hundred years.

Harry on the outside was a young man, not the kind of person that spoke of decades of his life out in the world. He showed no age, and yet, he didn't hesitate before offering a number.

She had thought it was wild just how much he seemed to have travelled while being so young.

(Y/N)'s world turned on its head then. She must have really downed the wine during dinner. Maybe even the scent of the wisteria and the foxglove had worked its way into her brain and was taking more and more of her sanity.

She had to leave.

Stumbling to her feet, (Y/N) swallowed around her dry through, her breathing coming in concerning puffs with her corset tight around her torso.

"I need to go," she told him breathlessly, "I-I—I'm sorry, I need to leave."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started out of the ballroom. She needed space, this castle was too small, the walls too tight, the corset digging in too deep. She had made it just to the double doors before she was aware of Harry's presence behind her, his steps silent over the floor.

"(Y/N), wait," he pleaded, "I can explain everything, I-I promise. I've never had to explain to anyone who didn't already understand, but I'll learn, please give me a chance."

Her pacing never wavered as she burst out of the ballroom, hustling through the winding halls and gloomy decor until she found herself heading towards the front door. The pounding of her feet over the glossy flooring matched that of the beating in her chest, her ribs sore and lungs aching.

Just as she placed her hand on the door, aiming to push it open and allow herself to spill into the night, a cold hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"(Y/N), wai—"

Twirling around, (Y/N) startled with a gasp ripping through her throat. On instinct, the vision of the corpse in the woods in the back of her mind, she cupped her hand over her neck as if that could stop him from ripping it out.

Harry's hand dropped from her shoulder immediately, his gaze dropping to where she had protectively clutched her throat. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, a whimper involuntarily dropping from her lips.

He crumbled at the sight, despair washing over his features. (Y/N) didn't know what to do as he fell to his knees, looking up at her with glittering eyes, more and more shatters of green appearing. His fingers clutched at his waistcoat, skin turning bone white from the strength.

"(Y/N)," he almost cried, "I—You have to believe me. I would never hurt you, you know that. Please, please don't be scared of me." Glittering tears pooled in his eyes. "I am more devoted to you than I think I even realized, I would sooner sacrifice myself than let anything hurt you. Please, just... I don't want to frighten you, I'm sorry."

She was rooted in her spot as she heard his pleas over the rushing of blood in her ears. Under her palm, she could feel her pulse thrumming in her neck.

What kind of predator was he, to crumble and bow before his prey? No vulnerability could be shown during the hunt, even from the most skilled of hunters. And yet, if Harry were the lion here, the one stalking and waiting for the moment to strike, he was doing a poor job of keeping the upper hand. With the way they were positioned—(Y/N) with her back to the door, knob under her other hand, and Harry at his knees before her,—she could easily escape before he had a chance to do anything more than to grasp at her gown before the material inevitably slipped from his hands.

He'd had plenty of better—easier—opportunities to hurt her. Tonight alone, when he dipped her low, neck on display, as they danced in the ballroom, he could have easily made her into one of the many found in the woods. Instead, he had held her carefully, skimming his nose over the skin in an affectionate touch before pulling her to his chest. Countless times prior—the night in the storm, when she had slept so soundly in that bedroom, the night walking alone through town—he could have stolen her away without a single soul to witness.

Instead, he had cared for her. He put her somewhere safe to wait out the storm and sleep off her panic. He had ensured she hadn't walked home alone in the dark with a rowdy tavern bubbling with drunk patrons. He had treated her like royalty all night, never once looking down on her should she not know the proper etiquette. Even now, he was pleading with her to please understand him, that he had never wanted to simply scare her.

For a moment, she wished she could have seen what this looked like to a spectator. She wanted to know if all of her emotions were seen as plainly on her face as she felt them in her chest. The comedown was gradual and mind-clearing, but Harry stayed right where he was, patiently awaiting any kind of response she could give him.

(Y/N) had the upper hand here.

Lowering her hand from her throat, her shoulders dropped into a declining slope. Unpinching her features while her lungs evened out.

"I am overwhelmed, I think," she told him, swallowing down the thick lump in the throat, "And, confused. But I believe you."

Relief came over him at once, his posture slumping as he collected himself. A beat passed before he rose to his feet, exhaustion touching at his unblemished features.

"Thank you," he breathed, looking at her with a clear gaze and unguarded expression, "I understand. I was confused once too—it's not easy to comprehend." Wetting his lips, he tipped his chin with the downturned eyes of a scolded pup. "Perhaps, I can ready the carriage for you to make it home, and rest for the remainder of the night. And, if you are still open to seeing me again, I will give you whatever answers I have to anything you want to know."

Too many trains of thought were passing through her head at the moment, keeping (Y/N) from giving him a clear answer. While she was sure right now that she wanted to know everything about what he was and who he was, explore the half-truths she had learned, there was no telling what kind of clarity the morning would bring.

"Okay," she answered quietly, not wanting to give anything more away until she knew more. She made a move to step around him to which Harry caught on and allowed a wider berth for her to pass. "Let me change, and then I will be ready to leave."

"You don't have to do that," Harry stopped her, his sullen expression returning with delicate heartbreak, "The gown is yours. You can keep it."

When she offered him a small smile, she could see the pieces of him mending back together. "I think this may be a bit hard to travel in and hide from my father, that's all," she told him, shooting her palms over the skirt, "I will have to come by to collect it another time."

It was like watching the sunrise the way a smile bloomed over Harry's features, dazzling and hopeful.

"Another time, then."

—————

From the carriage ride, to trekking back to her room, and finally settling in bed after doing her nightly ritual, (Y/N) had been left alone with her thoughts.

No one had caught her, that much she knew from the fact her father was still snoring in the other room and the tavern was still bustling with no attention paid in her direction. At least, she didn't have to worry about that. That way, her head could be filled with endless questions.

No matter how scared she had been in the moment at the castle, (Y/N) knew that she was never in any real danger. She didn't understand Harry and who he was revealing himself to be, and she doubted she ever truly would, but she knew in her heart that he was never going to harm her. The kind of man that would rather sit and speak, drop to his knees with words of devotion, couldn't be that much of a monster, could he?

Confusion muddled her thoughts. Every time she reassured herself, she heard glimpses of the word Dead wrapped in his voice, detailing out just how his heart was still in his chest. She saw the memory of the dead woman in the woods, and the countless others she had been spared of seeing with her own eyes. While he may not be the culprit of these bodies, he had been once.

It was an odd thing, the curiosity she felt.

She wanted to know him. She wanted to be close to the man that she had met and practically courted with these last weeks. She wanted that man and had allowed her heart to stake a claim on him. But, she was confused with the part of him he shared tonight.

Staring at her ceiling, (Y/N) attempted to reconcile everything she knew.

Those two facets of him could both be true, she thought. He could be the kind of creature that had done things she didn't want to fathom, while also being the kind of man that she had sought out and had embraced her in those small ways. Tonight, she had feared a threat that had been brought about by the unknown and the lack of understanding she had around him, but never once was the real Harry the thing that had frightened her.

She could be comforted and confused by him at the same time, too.

A rustle from the herb garden had (Y/N) tentatively peering out her window.

Amongst the leaves and bundles was the moon-eyed cat. The same one that she had last seen in Harry's arms.

She was going to speak to him again, she decided. There was more she had to know about him and her heart wasn't ready to shy away from him yet.

—————

when the flower of hemlock is consumed, it can poison the lungs and cause death through suffocation.

ahhhhhh! the ballroom scene was the first thing that came to mind and inspired me to write this whole piece so that was a lot of fun to come together and I really hope you guys like it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas or whatever you want to share please sent them in!

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lividstar · 2 months

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𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ PALETTE OF DESTINY.

୨ genre ୧ fluff, highschool au

: you’re an aspiring artist who’d very much rather trip over a paintbrush than have people find out about your passion. but when rafayel, the school’s golden boy and president of the art club, stumbles upon your sketchbook on a fateful day by chance, things are destined to take a huge turn – and suddenly, your well-kept talent was no longer much of a secret.

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ note ! my break is finally over !! so glad i managed to pull through (also they only allow 10 image insertions so i apologize for the lack of dividers haha)

in the chambers of linkon high, where bonds formed like constellations in the night sky, you and rafayel orbited in separate galaxies. rafayel, with his magnetic charm and sarcastic wit, loved to stand in the center of the spotlight. you, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. you found solace in the shadows, often keeping to yourself as you went through the days in silence. it was as if your paths were not destined to cross, given how your worlds were practically parallel to each other.

yet beneath rafayel’s facade, a longing for at least a few seconds to himself laid beneath the surface. as much as he pretended to like being the center of attention, even though he would never admit it – not even to himself, he wanted nothing but for those eyes to keep their gazes off of him. after all, having a lot of people like you despite not being remotely close to you only meant one thing – they either have the intention to use you for their own good, or are just keeping an eye on you with the eagerness to watch you trip on your tracks.

you’ve always been thankful for rafayel over hogging the spotlight all the time, which never failed to ensure your chances to be one step away from the crowd everyday.

yet unbeknownst to both you and the crowd that adored rafayel, he has had his eyes on you for a fairly long time now, although it’s not in the usual way you’d expect.

rafayel had always been jealous of how the only attention focusing on you was your own. he was curious about your whole being, because people at school either love him or loathe him, yet you stood on neither sides – which made him both intrigued and grateful. intrigued because he always wonders what you are up to because of how mysterious you were in his eyes, and grateful because at least there’s one person in linkon high who doesn’t really care about his presence.

it only made him want to know more about you, though.

as everyone formed their own groups inside the classroom to chatter and spend their free time to its fullest, thomas leaned over to rafayel, tilting his head at him. “you really have a knack for making every little thing in your life complicated, don’t you? why don't you just go talk to her?” he suggested, nodding towards you who sat at the back, lost in thought by the window.

rafayel shook his head in disagreement, his brows furrowing as he did so. “that’s way too typical- you know i refuse to do things the easy way. also, i don’t want to invade her space or make her uncomfortable.” he replied, glancing over you with a hint of curiosity.

thomas shrugged, understanding rafayel’s reasons. “well, you’re right.” rafayel crossed his arms as he leaned back, looking down on thomas as he sat on the boy’s table. “aren’t i always?” thomas only shook his head, already used to rafayel’s cocky behavior. “no, not really.”

he teased in a flat tone.

“so then, what’s your plan? don’t tell me you intend on following her on her way home after school later just so you could have a one on one moment with each other.” thomas crooked his eyebrow, seemingly skeptical of rafayel’s plans.

rafayel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “please, like i’d ever do something so cliché- and why are you looking at me as if it’s an idea i’d actually consider?”

“because it is.”

“you-” the sudden ringing of the school bells echoing through the halls cut rafayel off, as students left the classroom one by one with their lunchboxes at hand, headed for the cafeteria. thomas stood up from his seat, patting rafayel’s shoulder as he walked right past the boy sitting on his table. “good luck on your journey of befriending the person who’s very likely to actually be the one who hates you the most.”

“that’s not even-”

this was the second time rafayel had been cut off now. thomas had simply closed the door on him. groaning in annoyance, rafayel hopped off from thomas’s table as he walked towards the front door – the one thomas had just shut to cut him off. but just as he was about leave, rafayel heard a loud thud behind him, making him turn his head quickly.

whatever he was expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t your sketchbook lying on the floor while you were in a deep slumber with your head down on your table.

walking closer towards you with cautious steps, he crouched down, picking up your sketchbook with curiosity. he took his time to examine each and every sticker and doodle on the front cover, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he found it cute.

as he flipped through every page, he found himself becoming more impressed with each sketch he laid his eyes on. he could tell you made sure each and every stroke of your artworks were given enough detail – they didn’t seem like something you made for fun to distract yourself from boring classes, no, rather, they seemed like something you actually put dedication to. you were undoubtedly a skilled artist who has had this hobby for a fairly long time. after all, it takes an expert to know one.

he eventually starts to wonder why you never publicly expressed this talent of yours. as far as his knowledge as the art club’s president led him, you’ve never joined any events related to art – you weren’t even part of the club, to begin with. but why?

something so beautiful should never have been hidden in the first place – at least that’s what he believes.

as he closed your sketchbook and carefully placed it back inside your bag, he found himself in a trance as he glanced at your sleeping expression. based on his observation, it didn’t seem far too different from how you looked when you were awake. you’ve always appeared to be calm, no matter what.

that was one of your traits he was unsure whether he admired or wanted to have as his own.

he decided to leave you to yourself shortly after, but it wasn’t until an idea suddenly came up in his mind. rafayel hurried over to his seat at the center front, rummaging through his bag as he ripped a page off his notebook, taking a pen out of his pocket. the sound of his pen scribbling on the paper softly echoed around the empty classroom as he wrote a note on it.

after carefully putting it inside your bag, he quickly left the room – not after taking a quick glance at you once more. as he searched through the halls to look for thomas, rafayel couldn’t help but wonder how you’d react after reading his little note.

—

“-which reminds me, i went to look for you at the cafeteria earlier, but i didn’t see you anywhere. were you at the rooftop again?” tara asked in curiosity.

“huh? oh... i think i fell asleep.” you pondered as you tried to recall the events before waking up to the sound of your classmates walking back inside the classroom one by one as they chatted loudly. “everyone was already going back to their assigned seats the moment i woke up, so i think that’s the case...”

“i’m not even surprised at this point... but, you know, i do wonder how you manage to fall asleep in your classroom- especially since rafayel’s one of your classmates. i bet it’s really loud there, huh?” she tilted her head.

“i’ve gotten used to it already at this point, i’m afraid...” you rubbed your nape as you chuckled sheepishly. “well, whatever helps you sleep at night. at least now i know where to look for you whenever i don’t see you around during break time- you’re either enjoying your own company at the rooftop, or sleeping in your classroom.” she smiled as she nodded while pointing a finger at you.

you chuckled softly, yet gave her a nod in return as well. “okay, then... take care, tara,” you smiled at her, waving farewell as you parted ways.

“bye-bye!”

you were already far deep into the night. your surroundings engulfed you with a deafening silence, as the dim glow of the moonlight passed through your bedroom window. you’ve been on a staring contest with your ceiling for approximately 10 minutes now, uncomfortably laying down on your back. this was exactly why you tried to avoid sleeping during the day as much as possible – you’d always end up having way too much energy to fall asleep.

groaning softly as you sat up, you reached for your bedside lamp as you switched it open, the empty space of the bed in front of you deflating as you placed your bag on it. rummaging through your items, you searched for your sketchbook, wanting to have something to do to distract yourself from the long night.

it was then that your hands stumbled upon a small crumpled piece of paper.

at first, you were confused – the paper was unfamiliar to you, so there was no way it was ripped off of something of your property. you unfolded it carefully, curious about what was written on it.

“the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)”

your eyes widened slightly in disbelief as you read the words written on the paper – this could only mean one thing.

someone had seen your artworks.

but how? and when? you tried to backtrack, and that was when you remembered that the last thing you saw before you fell asleep was your sketchbook. so then, now you were stuck wondering whether the note’s intention was to give a compliment or to make fun of you in a passive aggressive way.

opening your phone as you lightly squinted after being practically blinded with its blindness, you searched for tara’s number in your contacts, immediately dialing her number the moment you found it.

the soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminated the room as you sat up, your heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

after a few rings, tara’s energetic voice filled the line. “hey, you! what’s up?” she greeted cheerfully. “how do you manage to remain enthusiastic even in the middle of the night...?” you pondered, a confused expression on your face.

“drinking iced coffee four times in a row in one sitting, maybe?” and with the tone she used, you weren’t even sure whether it was a lighthearted joke to uplift the atmosphere or if she actually meant it. nevertheless, you just let out a sigh.

“why the sudden late night call, though? can’t sleep?” tara asked from the other line. “well, if i called a few minutes earlier, i guess that would’ve been the case...” you trailed off, looking down at the note you held in your hand. “huh? what do you mean?”

“i was rummaging through my bag to look for my sketchbook earlier, and i stumbled upon something strange...” tara didn’t even let you finish, already exclaiming eagerly the moment you said the word “strange.”

“mysterious findings, you say? i’m all ears!”

you looked at the note once again, reading it aloud to tara. “i found this note. it says... ‘the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)’. i don’t know how, when, and where it got here, though.”

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by tara’s gasp of realization. “oh my, that sounds like something straight out of a shoujo manga! wait- maybe it’s a secret admirer!”

you awkwardly chuckled, quickly dismissing it as unlikely. “what? no, i doubt it, tara.. i don’t believe it’s possible.” you replied, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

“what? hey, don’t sell yourself short!” tara chided gently. “you’re amazing, and it’s very likely someone out there clearly sees it- as they should! i mean, does the note not say it enough?”

you couldn’t help but smile at tara’s unwavering optimism, her words offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. “my point still stands, but i appreciate it, really. but then again, you never know whether someone’s messing around with you or not in our school..”

tara remained silent for about a couple seconds. “now that you mentioned it... wait, what if the person who saw it was one of your gossip-obsessed classmates? what if they spill the beans until it reaches the art club?”

a pang of worry shot through you at tara’s theories, the thought of your private hobby becoming public knowledge leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. “i hadn't thought of that," you admitted worriedly. “i’d really hate for that to happen..."

tara’s tone softened, her concern evident in her voice. “let’s hope that’s not the case- i’d prefer for the mysterious person to be a secret admirer of yours and not the latter. and hey, even if it does get out, your talent deserves to be recognized, y’know?” she reassured you.

feeling a sense of relief wash over you, you thanked tara for her understanding before bidding her goodnight. as you settled back into bed, the warmth of tara’s friendship enveloped you, easing the uncertainty that had plagued your thoughts.

you felt the corners of your lips tilt upwards as you stifled a chuckle. you’ve always been grateful to have tara as your best friend, because her outgoing personality fits just right with your likeliness to remain self-reserved all the time. her loud presence had a perfect contrast to your quiet aura – which made everything between your friendship just go so well.

if you had a dollar for each time people would wonder how you two manage to tolerate each other’s presence, you’d be on a yacht right now – they’d always ask comments such as, “don’t you feel overwhelmed by tara’s enthusiasm?” or if not, they’d go like, “how does tara manage not to get bored by your consistent silence?” yet you two would only brush it off every single time.

you two were glad to have each other in your lives, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

glancing at the small piece of paper on your hand once more, you let out a sigh as you put it back inside your bag, finally feeling exhaustion spread all over your body. you figured there was no longer a need for sketching the night away at this point, so you placed your bag away as you switched your bedside lamp off, wrapping yourself around your blanket as your eyes fluttered shut.

as much as you tried to deny it to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to who the mysterious person who put the note inside your bag was.

and you had a bad, bad feeling that it’ll turn out to be someone you’ll least expect.

“first of all, you’re really, really stupid. second of all, you’re very stupid. lastly- holy hell, you’re actually so stupid!” thomas’s frustration echoed through the empty classroom as he frantically searched through his bag, his fingers desperately seeking the familiar touch of his phone screen.

rafayel’s incredulous expression mirrored his disbelief. “wha- now it’s on me?!” he retorted, his hands instinctively moving to his chest in a defensive gesture. “i hate to be the bearer of bad news, mr. thomas, but when you indulge in utterly foolish activities, you’ll have to shoulder the consequences afterward. it’s very immature of you to pass it on to other people simply because admitting that you're dumb puts your ego in pain,” rafayel asserted, crossing his arms in a display of dominance.

thomas’s sarcastic tone cut through the air like a knife. “are you done talking now, shakespeare? do you finally have the time to lend me a hand?” he quipped, his eyes practically rolling in their sockets.

“why should i?” rafayel shot back, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“because you were the one who left my bag open before we headed here! if it weren’t for you, my phone wouldn’t have—" thomas’s words were abruptly cut off by rafayel’s hand covering his mouth, muffling his protests.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll go look for it, or whatever. can you shut your mouth now?” rafayel rolled his eyes, wiping his hand on his uniform as he released thomas.

just as thomas was about to retaliate with a snarky remark, rafayel sauntered past him with a smug expression, heading toward the stairs. “that’s what you call payback, thomas," he called over his shoulder, winking as he waved him farewell.

“rafayel, you-!”

rafayel relished the cool morning breeze as it caressed his skin, the tranquil atmosphere of the rooftop offering a brief respite from his hectic schedule. “guess this wasn’t a bad idea after all, huh?” he mused to himself, settling onto the floor and allowing himself a moment of quiet reflection.

closing his eyes, he momentarily forgot his purpose for coming to the rooftop. however, his peaceful reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name – soft chuckles he had heard every once in a blue moon during class.

“rafayel...?”

opening his eyes, he was taken aback to see you standing before him. “oh- hey,” he greeted casually, attempting to maintain his usual air of confidence. which was strange – being laid-back usually came naturally to him.

yet, in your presence, it felt different, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“um... what brings you up here?” you asked, your tone curious yet cautious at the same time. rafayel chuckled softly before replying, “well, i could say the same for you. what’s your story?”

you hesitated for a moment, not used to being the center of attention- and neither were you expecting him to pass the question back to you. “well, i usually come up here during free time,” you explained, feeling a bit vulnerable sharing this with someone.

“oh? why’s that?” rafayel inquired, patting the floor beside him, inviting you to join him. you were a little hesitant at first, but rafayel’s easygoing demeanor put you at ease. “it’s nothing special... i just find it peaceful, away from the chaos of the school,” you explained, finally taking a seat beside him.

rafayel nodded, understanding. “i get that. sometimes you just need a quiet place to escape to.” you nodded in agreement to his words. “what about you...?” you asked, shooting the question back to him.

“well, you see,” rafayel launched into the backstory of his rooftop adventure, recounting the events that had transpired earlier. “ thomas and i had a little spat over his missing phone, and things got a tad heated,” rafayel explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. “he’s convinced i had a hand in its disappearance, but i swear i’m completely innocent.” he said in defense, holding his hands up.

“he didn’t seem like he was going to stop putting up a fight anytime sooner, though, so i just went along with his orders and told him i’ll go look for it- and you’re probably wondering what that has got to do with me going up here, but i figured it’d be easier to search for it from above, because, well, maybe he dropped it on the ground or something.” he shrugged.

listening to his animated storytelling, you found yourself drawn in by the humor of the situation. unable to contain it, a stifled laugh escaped your lips at a particularly amusing part of his story.

surprised by the genuine warmth of your laughter, rafayel couldn’t help but smile, his own laughter mingling with yours. realizing the significance of the moment, you quickly composed yourself, returning to your usual calm demeanor as if nothing had happened. “well...”

with the school bells signaling the start of the first period, your conversation with rafayel was cut short. as he stood up, he fixed his uniform, running his hands through his hair. “wanna walk to our class together? it’s not like we go to separate rooms, anyway.”

you were hesitant to accept his offer at first, but you figured there’d be no harm in agreeing anyway. you then found yourselves walking side by side down the hallway, headed to your shared classroom. the atmosphere was laced with a subtle awkwardness, and rafayel, always the entertainer, couldn’t resist breaking the silence.

“so, do you have any exciting plans for today?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. you glanced at him, “me? well... not really, just the usual routine,” you replied softly, appreciating the effort he made to fill the silence.

he chuckled. “routine, huh? well, maybe today will be different. who knows, maybe we’ll discover a hidden talent or stumble upon a secret club meeting.” rafayel gestured dramatically, creating an imaginary scenario with a playful smirk.

you couldn’t help but smile at his antics, the shared moment of lightheartedness making the walk to class a little more enjoyable.

just as the silence was starting to settle yet again, rafayel came up with yet another topic to discuss. “so, what do you think the chances are of mr. nero bringing up quadratic equations again today?”

you couldn’t help but become amused at his attempt to lighten the mood. “knowing mr. nero... i’d say the chances are pretty high, maybe? but, i don’t know... maybe he’ll surprise us and throw in some trigonometry instead.”

rafayel grinned, pleased with your response. “ah, the joys of high school math. it’s like a rollercoaster ride, isn’t it?” you nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction from the usual quietness of your interactions with rafayel. as you reached the classroom door, rafayel gestured for you to enter first.

“after you,” he said with a smile. “i’ll catch up in a minute.” confused by his sudden change in routine, you hesitated for a moment before stepping into the classroom. once inside, you found your seat at the back of the room and settled in, glancing over your to the front door to see rafayel entering a few minutes later.

as he entered the classroom, all eyes naturally turned towards him, the usual attention that followed the school’s golden boy. however, what surprised you was the way his gaze briefly connected with yours, despite having everyone’s gaze focused on him. in that fleeting moment, there was a hint of something different in his smile, something that caught you off guard.

confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him take his seat. was it just a simple gesture, or did it hold a deeper meaning? you couldn’t help but return his smile with a small one of your own, though uncertainty lingered in the air.

mr. nero began the lesson, and you pushed aside the thoughts about what just happened, focusing instead on the task at hand. but the memory of that moment stayed with you, a puzzle waiting to be solved in the back of your mind.

as rafayel settled into his seat, thomas leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “so, did you find it?” rafayel glanced at thomas with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “find what?” thomas rolled his eyes. “my phone, genius. the one you conveniently lost.”

rafayel feigned innocence, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “oh, that. well, let’s just say it’s still out there, waiting to be discovered.” thomas groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible, you know that?” rafayel simply shrugged, his attention now focused on the front of the classroom.

meanwhile, thomas seized the opportunity to get his revenge, crumpling a piece of paper and taking aim at rafayel’s head. with a flick of his wrist, he let it fly, but to his dismay, it veered off course, heading straight for mr. nero instead.

as mr. nero’s stern voice filled the classroom, rafayel’s grin faltered, replaced by a mask of feigned innocence as he faced his wrath as the whole class erupted into a fit of laughter.

“rafayel, care to explain why there’s a projectile flying through my classroom?” mr. nero’s tone was sharp, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

rafayel glanced sheepishly at thomas, who was struggling to contain his laughter. “wha- me? sir, i swear it wasn’t-”

“quit beating around the bush! is it really that difficult to act in an orderly manner?” mr. nero crossed his arms, a frustrated expression on his face.

“well, i just- it was an accident, sir. i assure you, i had no intention of disrupting the class.”

thomas couldn’t resist chiming in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “yeah, right. because accidentally throwing things seems to be a common occurrence for mr. perfect over here.”

the class erupted into laughter once more, and rafayel felt a pang of irritation at thomas’s teasing. he was supposed to be annoyed, but as he glanced towards the back of the room and saw you stifling a laugh, he couldn’t help but soften. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take the blame just this once after all.

caught in the moment, rafayel played along with the situation, flashing a glare at thomas before turning back to face mr. nero. “sorry, sir. it won’t happen again.”

thomas leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his face. “nice aim, raf. maybe next time you’ll hit your target.”

“shut up.”

you and tara were supposed to go home together, but her girlfriend, jenna, the student council president, had a date planned for both of them after school, leaving you to head home alone. just as you were heading towards the gate, you noticed a phone lying on the floor. curiosity piqued, you picked it up and unlocked it, revealing a childhood photo of rafayel and thomas as the wallpaper. this must be the missing phone rafayel was referring to.

wondering where they might be, you remembered rafayel’s role as the president of the art club and headed towards the art room. pushing open the door, you found the room empty except for rafayel, his back turned to you as he focused on his painting.

“rafayel?” you called out suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise, accidentally smudging a stroke of red on his canvas.

as soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to see you to know it was you. still, he turned to face you, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“what brings you here?” he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his tone. you hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. “um, i found this phone outside, and i thought it might belong to thomas. i was going to return it to him, but i couldn’t find him.”

rafayel nodded, understanding. “i see. well, i owe you my entire life- now i no longer have to worry about him nagging into my ear about his missing phone.”

before you could respond, your eyes fell on the smudged red stroke on rafayel’s painting, and you couldn’t help but point it out, apologizing profusely for potentially ruining his masterpiece.

“oh no- i’m so sorry, rafayel...! i didn’t mean to mess up your painting...” you apologized, feeling genuinely remorseful for your unintentional mistake.

rafayel examined the mark for a moment before dismissing your apology with a casual wave of his hand. “don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “in fact, i think it adds something to the painting.”

perplexed, you questioned his reasoning, prompting rafayel to introduce you to the red string theory. as he explained the concept, you listened intently, captivated by the depth of his perspective on art.

“so, you see, the red string represents the invisible connections between people,” rafayel elaborated. “it’s said that those connected by the red string are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. even though it’s invisible, it binds us all together in unexpected ways.”

his explanation resonated with you, and you nodded in understanding, impressed by the philosophical depth of his interpretation. “that’s why i believe the stroke of red on my canvas adds more meaning to it,” rafayel concluded, his eyes gleaming with passion.

you were awestruck by his insight, realizing that his role as the club president was well-deserved. though you considered yourself an artist, rafayel’s level of understanding elevated your appreciation for the craft.

“actually,” rafayel began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “why don’t we add both our names to the painting?” your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “both our names? but it’s your artwork. i don’t want to impose or take credit for something i didn’t create.”

rafayel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “it’s not about credit, it’s about meaning. your accidental contribution gave this painting a story- a connection. it wouldn’t be the same without it.” you considered his words, realizing the depth of his sentiment. “oh... alright, then.”

with a warm smile, rafayel handed you the marker, gesturing towards the bottom of the canvas. “go ahead, write your name next to mine. together, we’ll leave our mark on this piece.”

grateful for the opportunity to be a part of something meaningful, you carefully inscribed your name alongside his, feeling a sense of pride and camaraderie in the shared moment.

as mr. nero’s voice filled the classroom, announcing the upcoming event proposed by the art club, the room buzzed with excitement.

“attention, students! i’m pleased to announce that the art club has proposed an extraordinary event. it is a school-wide art exhibition centered around the theme of ‘strings of affection: capturing love’s melodies,’” mr. nero declared, his tone brimming with enthusiasm.

“this exhibition aims to delve into the complexities of love and its complex manifestations.” whispers and murmurs erupted among the students, excitement evident in the air.

“during the exhibition, each participating student will have the opportunity to display their artwork in the school gallery,” mr. nero continued, gesturing to a large poster board adorned with colorful flyers. “artworks can include paintings, drawings, sculptures, photography- anything that captures the essence of love.”

sitting at the back of the class, you found yourself lost in thought, your fingers fidgeting anxiously under the table. “the theme encourages exploration of various aspects of love, including romantic love, familial bonds, friendships, and self-love,” mr. nero elaborated, his voice carrying a note of significance. “we encourage each of you to delve deep into your hearts and minds to convey your unique interpretations of love through your artwork.”

the idea of participating in the art exhibition sparked a mix of excitement and apprehension within you. could you summon the courage to explore such a profound theme and share your interpretation of love with the entire school?

glancing around the room, you noticed people exchanging excited whispers with their friends, their eyes alight with anticipation, whereas the others were nodding to each other in silent agreement, perhaps contemplating their own interpretations of love for their submissions.

despite the lively chatter filling the room, you felt a sense of isolation, the weight of your decision resting solely on your shoulders. as mr. nero concluded his announcement and the chatter in the classroom continued, you found yourself lost in thought, pondering the depth of love and whether you were ready to explore it through your art.

as you sat there, wrestling with your decision about whether to join the art exhibition, the note you found in your bag earlier suddenly came to mind. pulling it out, you studied the words written on it, feeling a pang of uncertainty.

lost in your contemplation, you were startled when a paper plane soared through the air, landing neatly on your desk. with curious fingers, you unfolded it, revealing a short message scrawled across the paper.

“gonna join? - R”

your gaze darted around the classroom, searching for the sender, until you locked eyes with rafayel, who was seated at the center front. heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly stuffed the crumpled note back into your pocket, pursing your lips. you redirected your attention to the unfolded paper plane, hoping to conceal your flustered reaction.

for a brief moment, rafayel’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. it dawned on him that the note you hastily concealed was the same one he had written and placed in your bag the day he stumbled upon your sketchbook.

as you exchanged a smile with rafayel, a wave of warmth washed over you, mingled with a tinge of uncertainty about the mysterious note and the unexpected connection it represented.

rafayel couldn’t shake the desire to speak with you directly, to bridge the gap between them rather than relying on secretive notes. but with gour classmates constantly surrounding him, initiating a conversation without drawing attention to you was a challenge.

turning to his friend thomas, rafayel leaned in close, whispering urgently, “hey, can you do me a favor? tell her to meet me at the rooftop during breaktime.”

thomas raised an eyebrow, shooting rafayel a curious look. “what am i, your loyal butler or something? why don’t you just talk to her yourself?”

rafayel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i don’t want to make it seem like a big deal, you know? plus, it might be less suspicious if it’s coming from you.”

thomas groaned, shaking his head. “you’re hopeless- really hopeless. but since it appears i have no other choice, i’ll pass on the message. just don’t screw it up, yeah?”

as thomas approached you, confusion was etched on your face as you greeted him awkwardly. “oh- hey... what is it?”

he cracked a small grin, noticing your confusion. “hey there. that insufferable purple-haired guy at the front wanted me to let you know to meet him at the rooftop later during break time," he explained while gesturing towards rafayel, his tone friendly.

your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected message, and you stammered out a reply, “huh? oh, uh, okay. thanks for telling me.”

with a casual wave, thomas returned to rafayel, leaving you in contemplative silence. as your gaze lingered on their interaction, rafayel’s eyes remained fixed on you, adding a layer of intrigue to the message delivered through thomas.

perched on the rooftop, you found solace in the quiet surroundings, immersed in the act of sketching. the image of a sleeping cat with a delicate flower petal atop its head unfolded gracefully on the pages of your sketchbook, each stroke carefully crafted.

lost in your artistic reverie, you failed to sense rafayel's stealthy approach from behind. just as he was poised to startle you with a playful “boo,” your world shattered into chaos as you swung around in alarm, inadvertently smacking him in the face with your sketchbook.

the moment hung in the air, frozen in time, as rafayel recoiled in surprise, his hand instinctively rising to cradle his nose. wide-eyed and mortified, you stammered out an apology, “oh my gosh, rafayel! i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to-”

caught off guard, rafayel playfully teased, “well, that's one way to say hello, isn’t it? didn’t know my face doubled as a notebook magnet.”

you blushed, flustered by the unexpected collision, “i really didn’t mean to hit you, rafayel. sorry...!”

his laughter echoed, resonating with an easygoing charm, “no harm done. i’ve endured worse for a good laugh. besides, it’s about time someone hit me with a notebook- adds a bit of excitement to my day.”

rafayel’s curiosity piqued as he pointed to your sketchbook, asking, “what’s that you’re writing?” you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to reveal your secret passion, but his playful curiosity was too infectious to resist. “oh, it’s just some sketches,” you replied softly, flipping through the pages to reveal the drawing of the cat you saw earlier.

rafayel leaned in, genuine curiosity evident in his eyes as he examined the drawing. “whoa... you drew this? that’s really good!”

you felt a rush of relief at his positive reaction, showing him the reference photo you took earlier. “yeah, i saw this cat on my way to school this morning and couldn’t resist sketching it."

his grin widened as he glanced between the drawing and the photo, barely even noticing any differences. “you’ve got some serious talent, you know that?”

feeling awkward at the unexpected compliment, you muttered a shy thank you, feeling a sense of warmth spreading in the midst of your quiet rooftop rendezvous.

“makes me wonder... why aren’t you part of the art club?” not expecting rafayel’s sudden question, you chuckled nervously. “well, you know, i’m just really busy with school and stuff.”

rafayel didn’t seem convinced. “is that really the reason?” he inquired softly, his tone genuine and caring. you hesitated, feeling reluctant. “actually, i’m just... i’m a bit self-conscious about my skills. i don’t really want anyone to find out about it.”

rafayel’s expression softened, understanding evident in his eyes. “may i?” he asked, reaching for your sketchbook. nodding silently, you watched as he flipped through every page, his eyes widening in genuine surprise and admiration. he lingered over each artwork, appreciating the detail and emotion captured in your sketches.

as he closed the sketchbook and placed it back on the ground, he uttered words that struck a sense of familiarity within you.

“the world deserves to witness how talented you are, you know?”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, a memory surfacing of the note you had found in your bag after that day you fell asleep in school. it said the exact same thing. before you could inquire further, rafayel stood up and reached out to you. confused yet intrigued, you took his hand, and without hesitation, he led you on a journey through the school, eventually arriving at the art room.

as you stood there, taking in the familiar sights of the art supplies and canvases, rafayel turned to you with a warm smile. “i thought maybe you could use a little encouragement to share your talent with the world,” he explained softly. you blinked in confusion. “what are we doing here?”

rafayel’s smile was gentle as he took your hand, placing a paintbrush in one and a palette in the other. he led you towards the largest canvas in the room. “what am i supposed to do...?” you inquired, tilting your head in puzzlement.

rafayel’s smile widened as he picked up a paintbrush and palette for himself. “do what you do best,” he replied. “huh?”

with a sense of determination, rafayel painted a bold black line down the center of the canvas, separating it into two distinct halves. “every five minutes, we’ll switch and continue each other’s paintings,” he explained, his voice calm yet full of purpose.

you nodded, intrigued by the challenge, and began your half of the canvas with soft, lighthearted portraits and delicate strokes. your colors were gentle and inviting, focusing on capturing the essence and aura of the subjects with a sense of warmth and innocence.

as the minutes passed, you and rafayel seamlessly switched, each adding your own touches to the other’s work. rafayel’s side of the canvas was a masterpiece of emotion and complexity, with mesmerizing details and layers of meaning poured into every stroke.

“you’re quite the artist, you know,” rafayel remarked as he added a flourish to your portrait, his tone praising. you blushed at the compliment, unsure how to respond.

somewhere in the middle of the exchange, rafayel not-so-accidentally brushed a small portion of paint onto your cheek. “oops, my hand slipped-”

and so did yours, it appears, as you left a mark of paint on his nose. you stifled a chuckle as you feigned innocence, “um, sorry,” you murmured, your voice soft yet sarcastic.

rafayel laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “congrats- you’ve officially caught me off guard!” he teased, his tone lighthearted.

as the playful exchange continued, each stroke of paint serving as a reminder of your shared connection, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest. it was as if, in this moment, you were shedding your inhibitions and embracing the joy of simply being yourself around rafayel.

and as the final touches were added and you both stepped back to admire the masterpiece you had created together, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. little did you know, as you looked at the painting, rafayel was looking at you with admiration in his eyes, captivated by the quiet strength and beauty he saw reflected in you.

"so, about that note...” you began tentatively, but rafayel cut you off with a nonchalant, “yeah, that was me,” accompanied by a shrug and a playful grin.

“you...?” surprise tinged your voice as you glanced at him, and rafayel nodded with a hint of mischief, pointing to himself.

“i mean, seriously though, you’re really talented. if you joined the club, you could totally be running the show instead of me,” rafayel suggested, his tone a blend of sincerity and teasing.

“i can’t tell if you’re trying to flatter me or if you’re trying to recruit a new member for your club...” you replied with a small chuckle, earning a grin from rafayel.

“oh, come on, i’ve already got a bunch of members, most of whom couldn’t care less about art. it’s a bit frustrating, to be honest- it’s like they’re not even there to appreciate the beauty of art in the first place,” rafayel lamented, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

“maybe they’re just there for you,” you offered, watching as rafayel nodded in acknowledgment, his expression thoughtful. “it’s not as glamorous as it seems, you know? being popular means you’re always in the spotlight, whether you like it or not. it’s exhausting,” rafayel admitted with a sigh, his frustration evident.

“so, that’s the price of popularity...” you mused, feeling a pang of sympathy for rafayel’s predicament.

“that’s why you caught my eye. you never seemed to crave that attention, and i found that refreshing.” rafayel confessed, his tone softening as he opened up to you. “i wanted to get to know someone who saw me for me, not just as who i’m made out to be.”

“huh?” you murmured, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity at his words.

“i’ve always admired how you kept to yourself, not letting the whole popularity thing affect you. it made me want to know more about you,” rafayel explained, his gaze holding a hint of something deeper that intrigued you.

“so... what do you mean?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by rafayel’s candid confession. he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered his words. “y’know, it’s just... these days, it feels like everyone is so caught up in their social status, popularity, reputation, you name it. and despite never wanting to be, i’ve been pushed into the center of all that because of the way people are way too interested in my life,” he explained, his voice tinged with frustration.

“people like you, who are genuine and don’t use others as stepping stones to become popular, are rare.” rafayel continued, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity. “your presence feels like a breath of fresh air in a world where everyone is so focused on climbing the social ladder.”

oh. “i never expected someone to see me that way...” you admitted, your eyes meeting rafayel’s with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. his expression softened as he listened, his gaze filled with understanding. “i guess we both had our assumptions about each other,” he mused.

you nodded in agreement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “the reason why i least expected you to be the one who put that note in my bag was because i always felt like we orbited in separate galaxies," you admitted, and rafayel listened carefully.

“it was as if you stood under the sun, whereas i found solace in the dark. i’ve always admired the way you easily socialized and blended in with the crowd, wishing it was something i could do, too.”

rafayel’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at your words, and you felt a rush of nerves at having laid bare your innermost thoughts to him. but as you saw the understanding and empathy in his gaze, you knew you had made the right decision in sharing your feelings with him.

“but now, knowing your perspective regarding your popularity, i feel like my perspective has just changed as a whole,” you added, your voice soft but earnest.

“maybe we’re not as different as we thought, huh?” he said, an amused expression on his face as he suddenly took your hand and held it within his gentle grasp.

“huh...? i...” to say you were at a loss for words and had no idea what to feel over the sudden gesture would be a huge understatement. it didn’t help that holding your hand seemed to be something casual to rafayel, either. “i guess...” you trailed off, looking down on the ground to avoid his gaze.

the familiar ringing of the school bells echoed across the walls of the empty art room yet again, cutting your conversation short – like it always did. yet this time, you were grateful for it. had it not interrupted both of you, you’d be a stammering mess by now.

rafayel let go of your hand, putting one of his hands in his pocket. “i’ll see your name somewhere at the art exhibit, then?” he tilted his head, sending you a wink before heading out, leaving you all by yourself as you looked at the large canvas in front of you once more.

perhaps grabbing an opportunity standing right in front of you wouldn’t be so bad, just this once.

—

it had been three nights. three nights of you frustratingly ripping pages off of your sketchbook simply because your ideas kept clashing with each other everytime you laid it out on the pieces of paper sprawled out in front of you. your artworks were merely a product of your own will – none of which were required for a specific occasion, at least not until now.

love.

how were you supposed to convey the meaning of a feeling you weren’t sure you have ever felt in your entire life? not even the romance books stacked up in your shelves could make up for an inspiration. within each tick of the clock, the day of the art exhibit kept inching closer, making you dread every passing second.

letting out a frustrated sigh as you laid your head down on your study table, you were no longer sure if you still wanted to participate in the event anymore. maybe you should’ve just shut down rafayel’s expectations of you partaking in the art exhibit while it was still early – hold on.

that was it. that was exactly it. if you needed to seek guidance from someone whose field of expertise is art, there was no longer a necessity for searching all over your surroundings – the answer was already right in front of you.

you weren’t sure when his contact number got on your phone, but you were grateful for it nonetheless – maybe he added it during your collaboration in the art room while your attention was focused on something else. dialing the number, you waited patiently for him to pick up as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“what up, buttercup?”

the unexpected lowering of the pitch of his voice, void of its usual sarcasm and sass, caught you off guard. it carried a hint of raspiness, a sign he might have been roused from sleep. and suddenly, regaining composure became a priority for you.

“oh- did i interrupt your sleep? i’m sorry, i’ll-” he was quick to cut you off from the other line, immediately brushing off your concern. “nah, don’t worry about it. what’s gotten you all up late in the night, though?” he asked curiously.

“um, well, you see,” you stammered, struggling to articulate your frustration. “regarding the art exhibit event you and your club launched... i just can’t seem to find the right way to express... love,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafayel’s curiosity piqued. “why’s that?” he inquired gently, sensing the weight behind your words. “i don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. “it’s just... how do you convey a feeling you’ve never experienced?”

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line before rafayel spoke again, his voice softer than before. “you mean... you’ve never fallen in love before?” he asked, a hint of surprise evident in his tone.

reluctantly, you confirmed his assumption with a quiet nod, even though he couldn’t see you. rafayel let out a soft sigh, the sound conveying both understanding and reassurance.

truth be told, that was the last thing he had expected to hear from you – but then again, the world’s always full of surprises, isn’t it?

“hey, no shame in that, yeah? we’ll find a way for you,” he said gently. “meet me tomorrow morning at linkon tower?”

your heart fluttered at the prospect of his help, and you agreed eagerly, grateful for his support. “okay,” you replied, a sense of relief washing over you. “thank you, rafayel...”

“anything for you.”

—

as you stood waiting in front of linkon tower, the morning breeze tousling your hair, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. the anticipation of meeting rafayel was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, and you found yourself fidgeting with the strap of your bag as you scanned the area.

suddenly, you spotted rafayel running towards you,an apologetic expression on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands. “fashionably late, as always,” he quipped, his tone light as he caught his breath.

you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing remark, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over you. “i was starting to think you’d gotten lost in the crowd...”

rafayel chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes as he approached you. “nah, just had to battle my way through the caffeine-deprived masses,” he replied, holding out one of the cups of coffee to you. “one caramel latte, just how you like it- hopefully.”

you accepted the coffee with a grateful smile, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his thoughtfulness. “oh- for me? thank you...!” you said softly, taking a sip of the steaming beverage.

he flashed you a charming grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “no need to thank me at all. like i said last night- anything for you, right?”

blushing at his words, you couldn’t help but feel a need to change the topic. “so... what's the plan for today?” you asked, eager to find out what creative ideas Rafayel had in mind.

he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his own coffee. “well, i thought we could take a stroll around the park, soak in some inspiration from nature,” he suggested, his tone relaxed. “unless you have any other brilliant ideas up your sleeve?”

you shook your head with a shy smile, feeling grateful for the way he took the lead. “no, that sounds perfect,” you replied, falling into step beside him as you set off towards the nearby park. as you walked, the gentle chatter between you and rafayel filled the air, the warmth of the morning sun casting a golden glow over your skin.

while taking your time to admire your surroundings, your eyes then caught sight of a cat sitting on a bench. gasping in awe, you couldn’t help but to tug on the sleeve of his cardigan, immediately pointing to it- and the next thing you knew was he was practically holding onto you for dear life, looking at the creature with a horrified expression on his face.

you stifled a chuckle, not expecting the sudden action from rafayel out of all people. “rafayel, are you, perhaps... scared of cats?” you tilted your head, waiting for an answer. “scared? hah, please, like i’d ever- get it away from me!”

you held up the cat in front of him, laughing as you watched him hurriedly take a few steps back. he was about to completely turn his back to you in fear of getting scratched by the feline’s claws, but it wasn’t until he came to realization that this was the first time he has ever heard you laugh – all he’s ever heard from you were short giggles and stifled chuckles.

he admired you in awe without even realization dawning upon him that he was, staring at you as you kept inching the cat closer to him. “you do know it’s more afraid of us than we are of it, right?”

your voice pulled him out of the bottom of his thoughts, making him flinch slightly as he tried to play off the fact he just called you beautiful in his head.

he feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “oh, please, don’t underestimate the cunning behavior of these creatures,” he replied with a smirk. “they may look innocent, but behind those whiskers lie a mastermind plotting world domination.”

you couldn’t help but find his dramatic antis childish, yet couldn’t suppress your laughter. “alright, fine, i’ll handle this dangerous mission myself," you joked, putting the cat back down on the ground.

as you practically dragged Rafayel towards the ice cream parlor, his laughter echoed through the air. “woah, slow down! i didn’t know it was possible to love ice cream this much.” he remarked, amusement all over his eyes.

you flashed him a bright smile in return. “don’t we all?” you replied, unable to contain your excitement as you joined the line behind a group of eager kids. while waiting for your turn, the sweet aroma of freshly made ice cream filled the air, making your mouth almost water in anticipation. rafayel observed your enthusiasm with a fond smile, clearly amused by your excitement.

finally, it was your turn to order, and you wasted no time selecting a combination of three of your favorite flavors. as the server handed you your towering cone, you struggled to balance it in your hands, wanting not to let a single scoop go to waste.

rafayel chuckled at your efforts. “looks like you’ve got your hands full there,” he teased, buying the same flavors you had chosen. “i’ll have the same, just in case yours decides to take a tumble.”

—

while you and rafayel were strolling along, you stumbled upon an old vendor selling flowers. the vendor greeted both of you warmly, a twinkle of nostalgia in his eyes. “one for your lovely lady, sir?” he asked, gesturing towards you with a knowing smile. yet before you could interject and clarify that you weren't a couple, rafayel was quick to respond, his voice charming. “i’ll have a bouquet, if you may,” he said with a playful wink, catching you off guard.

“huh? rafayel, you-” his actions caught you by surprise, making you stumble over your words. yet even if you wanted to clarify your relationship with rafayel to the old man, you found yourself not doing so, having a feeling that no matter how you tried to deny it, rafayel would eventually find a way to brush your reasonings off. and you weren’t even sure why he’d do such a thing- you just knew he would.

as the vendor handed rafayel a beautiful bouquet, he offered a nostalgic reflection. “ah young love. you two remind me of me and my wife during the days we were still young... I hope the best for both of you,” he said with heartfelt sincerity.

rafayel played along effortlessly, nodding in agreement. “i hope so too, sir.” he replied with a grin, accepting the bouquet with a flourish.

as you both walked away from the vendor, you couldn't help but be confused at the unexpected exchange. before you could question rafayel about his actions, he leaned into the playful act even further, bowing theatrically in front of you.

“for you, my lady.” he said with mock formality, offering you the bouquet with a mischievous hint in his eyes. you couldn’t suppress a laugh as you accepted the flowers. “well... while, thank you, kind sir,” you tried to reply with equal playfulness, making rafayel laugh in response.

—

inside the arcade, the bright lights and buzzing sounds of the games immediately filled the air, igniting a sense of excitement within you both. making your way to the claw machine, rafayel insisted on taking the first turn, his determination evident in the way he eagerly inserted coins and maneuvered the claw.

you watched with amusement while he focused intently on the task at hand, heavily concentrated as he attempted to win you a plushie. but despite his persistence, the claw came up empty-handed each time, much to his dismay.

as the claw machine swallowed another round of coins, rafayel’s competitive spirit seemed undeterred. “alright, watch closely,” he declared while positioning the claw with precision. you couldn't help but admire his persistence, even as the plushie continued to escape his grasp. “you’ve got this,” you encouraged him, unable to contain a smile at his unwavering focus.

but as the claw went down for yet another attempt, rafayel’s expression shifted from confidence to disbelief as it once again came up empty. “what?! how did i miss that?!” he exclaimed, his frustration evident as he shook his head in disbelief.

with each failed attempt, rafayel’s facade of confidence began to crack, replaced by exaggerated frustration and protests. “this machine is rigged, i’m telling you!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “it’s like it’s got a personal vendetta against me or something.”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “um, maybe you should let me have a go at it?” you suggested, feeling a rush of nervousness as rafayel turned to look at you. he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, you think you can do any better, huh?” he teased, already stepping aside to let you take your turn.

with a small smile, you approached the machine, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. as you focused on the task at hand, you couldn't help but feel rafayel’s eyes on you, his presence both comforting and slightly unnerving at the same time. you maneuvered the claw into position, holding your breath as you watched it go down towards the plushie of your choice. and then, with a satisfying clink, the claw closed around the prize, lifting it triumphantly into the air.

you couldn’t contain your joy as you retrieved the plushie from the machine, holding it up for rafayel to see with a huge smile. “i did it!” you celebrated enthusiastically, feeling a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as rafayel grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“incredible!” rafayel exclaimed, his tone filled with mock astonishment. “i’ve officially been defeated by the claw machine champion.”

—

as the afternoon came to an end, while the sun painted the city in hues of gold, rafayel casually inquired, “so, where do you live?” your head tilted in puzzlement, not quite catching what he meant until he clarified, “i’m gonna walk you home.”

you felt your heart flutter, your cheeks warming at the unexpected offer. “oh, um, it’s not far from here...” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. rafayel’s grin widened, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to lead the way. “lead the way then, my dear companion,” he teased, falling into step beside you as you started walking.

as you walked through the familiar streets, a comfortable silence enveloped you both. yet, it was rafayel who broke it, his voice carrying a playful lilt. “sooo, did you enjoy our little date today?” he asked, his tone light yet filled with genuine curiosity.

a small chuckle escaped your lips as you nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you. “of course i did. thank you for spending the day with me, rafayel...” you replied, stealing a glance at him.

it seems as if the fact he called it a date completely went over your head – and could anyone blame you if you were just happy enough to spend the day with him that you no longer cared whether it was a friendly date or something else?

rafayel’s smile softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “anytime.” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “we should definitely do this again sometime.”

you felt a flutter in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat as you nodded in agreement. “yeah... i’d like that.” you agreed softly, a shy smile creeping up your lips. the walk continued, each step bringing you closer to your destination.

—

you two stood in front of your apartment building, and as you bid farewell to each other, you waved at him with a close-eyed smile.

rafayel swore his heart had never raced faster than it did now.

just as you were about to walk away, he held you back by your wrist, halting your movements. “wait.” you took a step back. “rafayel...?” you tilted your head in confusion as you turned to face him. his hand was still holding onto your wrist, and as he stood there, holding your wrist gently, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “i was going to wait until the art exhibit event was over to say this to you, but... screw that. i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“what do you mean...?” you asked, not quite getting what he was implying.

“well,” he began, his voice no longer laced with his trademark sarcasm. “i’ve got a confession to make.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, his gaze never leaving you. “from the moment i first saw you sleeping at the very back of the classroom while everyone was busy talking in separate groups, something inside me shifted. it was as if the universe intended to bring us together, to intertwine our lives in a way that i couldn't comprehend at the time.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, curiosity mingling with anticipation as you waited for him to continue. “you see,“ rafayel went on, his tone softening ever so slightly. “i never knew why i felt so drawn to you that day even though i didn’t even know anything about you- there was just something about you that made stare at you a little longer than i was supposed to.” he paused, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recalled the countless times he had looked behind to see whether you were gazing out the window, writing down notes, or sleeping.

“you know, i’ve spent all this time trying to figure out why you just seemed to be so different from everyone else in my eyes. and maybe you’re wondering why- but that’s the thing. neither do i know.” you listened, captivated by the sincerity in his words, the layers of his personality laying bare before you.

“and then it hit me.”

rafayel continued, a warmth spreading through his chest as he spoke. “i’ve watched you, admired you, in ways that i can’t quite put into words- way before i even saw your sketchbook lying down on the ground.” rafayel confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “getting to know you even further with each passing day from then on was the nail in the coffin, you know? as i got to know you better through time, i just- the next thing i knew was i wanted to have more excuses to spend time with you.” he ran his hands through his hair, a soft expression on his face as you listened with surprise.

“your kindness, your warmth, your quiet strength, the way you’re always trying to view every circumstance you come across in a positive light, the way you’re... you. they’ve captivated me in ways i never thought possible.” you listened, your heart racing with his words, the air heavy with the weight of the unspoken. he took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving you.

“i don’t even know when, how, and why i started feeling this way. all i knew the moment i first heard you chuckle quietly at the back of the class that one time thomas and i were arguing over which of our answers to the equation mr. nero wrote on the board- neither were correct, by the way- was that if it ever became louder, i wanted to be the reason behind it.”

“you’re making it so hard for me not to fall for you, and as i stand in front of you now, i’m proudly declaring that i’ll be admitting my defeat.”

as rafayel’s words hung in the air, you stood there in disbelief, finding it hard to make his words sink in. and then it all came crashing down on you. the overwhelming surge of happiness you felt when you were adding your own touches on his artwork that one day at the art room wasn’t just a feeling of being glad you were finally able to express your talent in a way that isn’t scribbling on your sketchbook – it was because the feeling of being comfortable with letting your guard down around someone who wasn’t tara was an unfamiliar yet great experience for you.

the reason why you always found yourself staring at him in class wasn’t because you were curious as to how popular people like him lived their lives; you weren’t curious about his lifestyle, but rather... you were curious about him as a person.

“rafayel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rustle of the leaves. “i... i never knew... i never dared to hope...” but before you could finish, rafayel reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “you don’t have to. just... let yourself loose, yeah?” rafayel’s gaze softens, his hand still gently holding yours as he waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts.

“it’s just... it’s a lot to take in.” you finally manage, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you admit your struggle to process his heartfelt confession. “but...” you pause, biting your lip nervously as you try to find the courage to voice the thoughts racing through your mind.

“but what?” rafayel prompts gently, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “it’s just... everything makes sense now,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush as you finally allow yourself to let out the thoughts you had buried deep inside.

“that day in the art room, when we were working on that huge canvas, i thought i was just happy to be able to express myself through art... but now i realize it was more than that. it was the feeling of being comfortable with someone other than tara, of letting my guard down and just... being myself without having to afraid of being judged.”

rafayel listened intently, his expression softening with each word you speak. “and in class, when i would find myself staring at you... i always thought it was just curiosity about how someone like you lived their life. but now i see it was something more. i was curious about you as a person, and whatever you were hiding beneath your usual personality, i just... i wanted to know all about it.”

“i don’t know when, how, or why it all started either, but... all i know right now is that... i want to be with you, rafayel.”

a blush crept across your cheeks as you finished speaking, your gaze dropping to the ground as you awaited rafayel’s response. but before you can look up, you feel his hand gently lifting your chin, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine. “you know...” he said softly, his voice filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “i’m glad you feel that way. because... well, because I've been feeling the same way about you for a long time now- if that wasn’t obvious already.”

as the weight of your shared confessions hangs in the air, there’s a palpable tension between you and rafayel. slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours as his lips hover just inches from yours.

your heart races in your chest, a nervous feeling fluttering spreading through your stomach as you anticipate what’s about to happen. and then, in a moment that feels both infinitely long and short at the same time, his lips finally meet yours.

it’s soft at first, a gentle brush of his lips against yours, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. but then, as the realization sinks in that this is your very first kiss, the sensation intensifies. his lips mold perfectly against yours, fitting together like two puzzle pieces finally finding their match. there’s a warmth that spreads from the point of contact, igniting a fire deep within you that you never knew existed.

as the kiss deepens, you find yourself melting into him, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the moment, the world around you fading away until there’s nothing left but the two of you and the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through your veins.

and then, as the kiss came to an end, you’re left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally pull away, your lips tingling with the memory of his touch.

“rafayel, i...” you mumble, cheeks ablaze with a crimson hue that refused to fade. he chuckled warmly, his hand ruffling your hair affectionately. “you’re too cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

your response came out as a nervous stutter, your words stumbling over each other as you try to process the rush of emotions flooding through you. he gently pinches your cheeks, eliciting a short laugh from you. “hey now, none of that,” he playfully scolds, a playful sparkle swirling in his eyes. “unless you want me to die or something.”

you blush even deeper at his teasing, unable to find a clever retort. instead, you offer a sheepish smile, your heart fluttering at his words. as you bid farewell once more, the memory of his kiss still lingering on your lips, you turn to head inside the apartment building. but before you do, you steal one last glance back at rafayel, waving at him with a shy smile.

he returns the gesture, a soft smile gracing his features as he watches you disappear inside, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a head full of thoughts of him.

—

you lay on your bed, cheeks still flushed with the warmth of the kiss and your heart pounding with excitement. unable to contain your bubbling emotions, you bury your face in your pillow and let out a muffled squeal, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

just as you start to calm yourself down, your phone’s notification jingle breaks the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat. with trembling hands, you grab your phone and glance at the lockscreen, where a message from Rafayel awaits.

“looking forward to seeing ur art exhibit project ;)”

your cheeks flushed even deeper at his message, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you quickly unlock your phone and type a reply, fingers flying over the screen as you try to contain your excitement.

“i guess you weren't lying when you said i’d head home with a newfound inspiration... ～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆”

on the other side of the screen, rafayel chuckled softly at your message, finding the kaomoji you sent along with it absolutely adorable. with a smile, he typed out his reply, reminiscing about the intimate moment you shared earlier before parting ways.

“see? that’s why it’s always the best choice to trust me in every possible situation.”

he replied, his message feigning smugness. you couldn’t help but giggle at his response, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at his playful demeanor.

“as much as i want to talk to you for longer, i still have to get my art exhibit project finished (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)”

rafayel’s lips curled into a small smile as he read your message.

“why not go to sleep now? we can always talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

and despite the simplicity of his suggestion, you couldn’t resist the urge to internally scream with excitement.

—

while they strolled through the venue, thomas couldn’t resist teasing rafayel about his frequent glances towards the entrance. with an amused smirk, he nudged rafayel, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.

“looking for someone, raf?” rafayel’s response was casual, though his eyes betrayed a hint of anticipation. “just curious if she’s made it here yet.” thomas followed rafayel’s line of sight, scanning the bustling crowd. “haven’t seen her around yet,” he responded. rafayel continued to scan the room, his gaze lingering on each passing figure in search of a familiar face.

meanwhile, as you hurried into the venue, tara spotted you and dashed over, enveloping you in a tight hug. “hey, where have you been? you’re late!” you chuckled sheepishly, “i may or may not have overslept...” tara only pinched your cheek, seemingly unsurprised by your response.

“also- there’s that one painting over there that everyone’s been admiring for a while now, and the art style seemed very familiar to me... that one’s yours, right? please say it is!” tara’s eyes sparkled with excitement. with a shy smile, you nodded. “yeah, i finally decided to share my work...” tara squealed in delight, squeezing you even tighter as she practically squealed in your ear how proud she was of you.

as she guided you through the crowd to your painting, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves. but when your eyes met rafayel’s across the room, a wave of warmth washed over you, calming your nerves. tara caught your eye contact with rafayel, turning to you with a puzzled expression. “do you two know each other?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

you nodded shyly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. tara’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise in an instant. “wait, don’t tell me... he’s the anonymous person behind that note you found in your bag, isn’t he?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization.

with a knowing smile, you simply nodded, causing tara to gasp in disbelief. “oh my gosh! no way! are you sure you’re not living in a shoujo manga?” she teased, her excitement evident in her voice. but underneath her teasing, you could sense her genuine happiness for you.

meanwhile, thomas noticed rafayel’s gaze fixed on you and couldn’t resist nudging him with a smirk. “there’s your girl, go get her.” he teased, earning an eye-roll from rafayel.

as they both approached you and tara, the lingering memory of yesterday’s kiss remained fresh in your minds – and it was painfully obvious with the way you two were stumbling over your own words. thomas couldn’t contain his laughter. “look at rafayel all flustered...” he chuckled, thoroughly amused by his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior.

tara, on the other hand, was practically squealing with delight at the romantic encounter unfolding before her eyes. “they’re so cute together...!” she whispered to herself, barely able to contain her excitement.

sensing the need for some privacy, thomas grabbed rafayel’s attention, patting his shoulder. “i’ll go ahead and check the other artworks.” tara quickly followed suit, declaring her sudden need to visit the bathroom, leaving you and rafayel alone in front of your painting.

as the curious gazes of the surrounding students lingered on the two of you, rafayel turned to you with genuine interest. “so, are those lovers in each petal supposed to represent us?” he asked, his tone filled with curiosity as he pointed to a petal that had a painting of two people eating ice cream.

you nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his question. “yeah... i painted each scene with us in mind.” you admitted, feeling a bit shy but also strangely exhilarated by his interest. rafayel’s eyes shone with appreciation as he examined the beautiful details of your artwork. “wow, you’re really...” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he seemed to be out of words. “you have such an amazing talent, you know that?”

you couldn’t help but smile at his heartfelt comment, feeling a surge of confidence in your abilities. “you think so...?”

“know so.”

“i swear, one day my lighthearted jokes about you being the next president of the art club will come true to life. i wouldn’t even be surprised, you know?” he teased, flashing you a charming grin that made your heart skip a beat.

as you and rafayel left your painting behind to explore the other artworks, the eyes of the gathered students followed your every move. some watched in surprise, their eyebrows raised in curiosity as you were engaged in a conversation with rafayel. others couldn’t contain their excitement, their voices tinted with squeals of delight as they observed the unlikely dynamic between the two of you.

“oh my gosh, look at them! they’re so adorable together...” one girl whispered to her friend, nudging her with an elbow as she pointed discreetly at the two of you. “i know, right? who would’ve thought they’d make such a cute couple?” her friend replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“did you see the way he looked at her? it’s like she’s the only one in the room!” one of them remarked, her heart fluttering at the sight. “and she’s glowing! i’ve never seen someone look so beautiful before.” another girl added, a sense of joy evident in her tone as she observed your interaction with rafayel.

nearby, a group of boys exchanged knowing glances, their expressions filled with admiration for rafayel’s ability to break through your shell. “man, rafayel’s really got it going on with her.” one of them remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice as he watched you two interact.

“yeah, but look at her, she’s holding her own too. rafayel’s really lucky, isn’t he?” another boy added, nodding approvingly as he watched you converse with rafayel. "have you ever seen anyone as radiant as her?” one of them whispered, captivated by your presence.

“she’s like a living artwork herself.” another remarked, admiring the way you seemed to bring color and life to the atmosphere surrounding both you and rafayel.

“i heard she’s the one behind that stunning painting. makes sense, she’s got such a creative aura about her, doesn’t she?” a third boy commented, impressed by your artistic talents and the way you expressed yourself through your work.

as the crowd’s whispers of admiration reached your ears, rafayel couldn’t help but grin, turning to you with a proud gleam in his eyes. “you hear that?” he said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “told you the world deserves to witness how talented you are.”

you felt a warm flush of gratitude spread through you at his words, grateful for his unwavering support. with a shy smile, you nodded, feeling a newfound sense of confidence blooming within you. “thank you, rafayel- for everything, really.” you whispered, feeling a surge of appreciation for the boy who had helped you break out of your shell and embrace your true potential.

and you’ll forever be grateful for having him in your life.

♡ , cupidswan.

#love : aerith 💌#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel #l&ds rafayel #rafayel fluff #lnd x reader #lnds #l&ds x reader #l&ds

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patrophthia · 1 year

Text

red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read

wc: 7.2k

this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>

there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.

taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.

Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.

"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"

"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."

Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"

"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."

Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"

Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."

Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."

"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."

"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.

"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."

"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.

"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."

When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"

Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."

On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.

I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"

"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."

"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."

"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."

"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."

"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"

I shrug, "not really."

"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.

"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."

Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"

"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"

"But what if they do," Mark argued.

"But what if they don't."

Mark sighs, "and if they do?"

"And if they don't—"

"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"

Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."

Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.

"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"

"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"

"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."

Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."

Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.

Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.

"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.

"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"

"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."

Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"

"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.

"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"

"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."

"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.

Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"

Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.

With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.

Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.

Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.

Theodore Nott was my soulmate.

"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.

Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.

The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.

My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.

Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."

There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.

"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."

"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.

"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."

His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.

Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.

It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.

It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."

"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."

Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."

I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.

"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."

"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.

"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"

A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.

The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."

"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."

Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.

Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.

Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.

"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"

"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."

"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"

From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."

"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other. "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."

"Really?" He says testingly.

"If you're so invested in it then yes."

He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."

Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.

Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.

And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.

A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.

The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.

Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.

"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."

Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."

"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"

Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.

"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.

Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"

"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."

Her?

Oh.

Me. I'm her.

Okay.

"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"

Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.

I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"

"We need a favour."

"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."

"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."

"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.

"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"

"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."

"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.

"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."

"And I can't help with that?" I ask.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"

That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"

"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."

"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"

"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.

I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."

Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"

"I never said—"

"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"

"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.

One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.

Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"

His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."

"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."

He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.

A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.

The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.

Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.

"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"

His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"

"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."

Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."

Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.

I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.

I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"

"I can't just let you pay for me."

He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.

"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."

"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.

I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."

"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."

"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."

"Don't gaslight me!"

Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."

What an ass.

I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.

He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.

The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."

He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.

After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.

The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."

What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."

"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"

With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"

"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."

If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."

"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"

"What an ass I am." Smart ass.

"Lucky guest." I murmur.

"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.

I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."

"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."

I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"

I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.

Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"

He blinks. "It wasn't important."

"Your birthday isn't important to you?"

"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"

I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"

Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"

If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."

Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"

I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."

I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."

"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."

"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"

Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.

"What?"

"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"

I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"

Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."

To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"

"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."

A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."

"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"

"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"

He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."

"Like?"

"Kiss you."

How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.

A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.

A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.

What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."

I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.

It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.

Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.

Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.

Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."

My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."

My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"

Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.

"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."

This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.

Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.

Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.

"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."

"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.

I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."

"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"

"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."

It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.

Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.

Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"

"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."

Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"

If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?

Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."

And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."

Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.

Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.

A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.

"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.

Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."

The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"

"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."

That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.

"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."

Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"

Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.

"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."

A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."

Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.

A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"

His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."

A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."

The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.

Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.

Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.

Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?

What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.

"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"

He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.

"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"

He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.

"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.

He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"

"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."

He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"

"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."

His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"

I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."

" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"

"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."

He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."

"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."

Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."

"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"

"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."

— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe

notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!

#theodore nott humor #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #Spotify #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing

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captainamericasmotercycle · 7 months

Note

A james potter x fem!reader request <3

James is in love with Lily. He always has been, right? Ever since the first year of attending Hogwarts he has been chasing after her affection. It’s all anyone thinks of when they think of him. “The boy who chases the unattainable.” Through all of his failed attempts, Reader has stood next to him, supporting him through everything despite the raging love she feels for him.

James does something bad while trying to attain the affection of Lily… again. While his attempts work and he gets the girl, he ends up losing his best friend in the process.

Please have it end with a happy ending where they end up togetherrrr!! Thank youu!!

(If you want to of course, if you don’t mo worries. You can also add smut if you want 👀)

Lacy

smart, sexy lacy, i’m losing it lately

pairing: james porter x reader

warnings: cursing, jealously, james being stupid, insecurity, confessions, lowkey toxic!james, rosekiller and dorlene my babies, hurt/comfort, ANGST, twin evan and pandora 💘, james being shit on for being a douche, happy ending

wc: 2.5k

a/n: ok i absolutely love this idea but i’m not sure if i executed it very well, however i did have so much fun doing it :)))

It was no secret that James Potter was in love with Lily Evans. He always has been, it was just a part of Hogwarts life now - a wild shenanigan to gain the affection of the woman he wanted.

It was also no secret that you stood by his side and picked up the pieces for 6 years every time his schemes got shut down by Lily.

You and James had grown up together, your families running in the same social circle. So you were well aware of his antics and escapades. But in these 17 years of being by James’s side as a friend, you wanted more.

You have wanted more since the two of you escaped from one of your family’s parties when you were 12. He led you out to the garden where the two of you stargazed for the remainder of the boring, high-class party.

But you could never let James know the love you had for him. You were his highest confidante and his best friend, you didn’t want that to be ruined. You’d rather keep James as friend than not have him at all.

You love James, however, you hate Lily Evans. You hate everything about her. Her stupid beautiful smile, her perfectly kept hair, her sweet personality, her Outstanding test scores, and of course the undeniable love and admiration from James Potter. She is just perfect, and you hate her for it. Except you can’t really hate her. You hate the envy you’ve curated towards her. She is so admirable it’s annoying as hell.

You sat in the Marauders’ room, helping James plan out his next gesture for Lily. The rest of the Marauders were spread around the room doing various things, reading, drumming, smoking.

You were getting annoyed at him now, you just wanted him to notice you. Of course you were there but you wanted him to see you, not see through you. Tension had been thick between the two of you for weeks.

“Alright so pink flowers or blue flowers? Or both?”

“Is this a baby shower?”

James frowned at your harsh tone, “Okay…”

You held your hand at the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes, “Just get her Calla Lillies or something. Simple flower and her name is Lily,”

“Oh that’s an amazing idea! You’re a genius, what would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes, probably get yourself killed, you thought.

James noticed your slumped demeanor, and so did Remus as he perked up from behind his book to listen in on your conversation.

“What is wrong with you?”

“I beg your pardon?” you snapped at him.

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You.?” he annunciated every word archly, like you were a small child.

Remus stepped in like a parent, “James don’t talk to her like that,”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong with her attitude,”

“There’s nothing wrong,”

“You know what, fuck you, I don’t even care,” he turned around to put his parchment down.

“Yeah, you never do,” you got up to leave when James grabbed your wrist.

“You’re just fucking mad that no one cares about you like I care about Lily,” this brought the rest of the people in the room to the conversation.

“James!” Peter and Remus shouted at him simultaneously. Peter was always on your side, he had grown up with you, Marlene, and James as kids. And he knows about your crush on James.

“James, what the hell?” Even Sirius was shocked he could say such a thing to you.

Your expression hardened as you tried to hold in tears, you pulled your hand away from him and mustered up as much strength as you could to speak back to him, you looked at him with glassed over eyes, “Fuck you, James, I never want to see you again.”

You ran out of their dorm, Remus and Peter in tow, and into your dorm, slamming the door in their faces.

Falling flat on the bed, face first, screaming into your pillow, you wanted to die. Actually. This was actually the end of your life because there was no coming back from this.

Soft knocks on the door pulled you from your trance. You stood up and opened the door meeting Lily’s soft face, “Are you alright, I could hear you screaming from outside?”

You wanted to throat punch her.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just stressed,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, 100%,”

“Okay. Well Mary, Marlene, and I are going down to the greenhouse if you’d like to join?”

“I think I’m going to stay… and study,”

“Alright, well we’ll see you later then,” Lily left the dorm doorway with a smile and you went back to you bed and flopped down. Does she have to be so perfect?

You were never getting over this.

Back in the Marauders dorm, James was being berated by his friends.

“How could you say that to her?”

“James, you’re so fucking dense,”

“Do you ever think before you speak?”

“You’re an actual idiot, genuinely,”

“You clearly need time to think, so we’ll give you some time alone to reflect on your relationship with her,” Remus and Sirius stormed out, Peter following.

At the doorway he hesitated and turned to James sitting slumped on his bed, “James, have you ever thought you’re not in love with Lily and she’s just a distraction for you?”

A distraction? What? From what? From who?

Peter left shortly after sticking James with the question of a life time. Was he talking about you?

It didn’t matter. He loves Lily. Right?

The next day he expected everything to go back to normal, you would be back by his side and his friends would be alright. Except this wasn’t the case. His friends were still wary of him and you were no where to be found.

At breakfast his friends only talked about school work and he noticed you weren’t at the table with them. He had also noticed that Marlene gave him an upturned look every time he looked in her direction. You must’ve told her what happened.

At lunch he noticed you still weren’t in the Great Hall. He hoped you were eating something, he knew how easy it was for you to accidentally skip meals. He left lunch early to look for you after his friends wouldn’t talk to him and he kept getting dirty looks from the rest of the girls at the Gryffindor table.

He took a couple laps around the school until he remembered that you loved the library and you had to be there! When he got there he beelined for the spot you and him always shared and as he approached he heard hushed voices and giggles.

He peeked around the corner of a bookshelf and saw you sitting way too close to Evan Rosier.

What the fuck were you doing with Rosier? How do you even know Rosier? Why are you talking to him? Since when did you even become friends?

Evan was one of your closest friend’s twin brother, you’d grown up next to Pandora and Evan just as you had with James, Peter, and Marlene.

You were quite well-known in the wizarding world because of your parents' social lives; always throwing lavish parties and social events.

Evan had been a confidante of yours for a couple of years now, especially since the two of you exchanged advice and stories about the guys you’ve been pining over for years.

But what were you doing with him, of course? Debriefing.

James suddenly felt like he was going to throw up everywhere. How dare you fucking bring Evan fucking Rosier to your spot.

He stormed out of the library and into his next class. He couldn’t even focus on transfiguration. Everything he touched just blew up, which was quite the parallel to his social life.

At dinner he noticed that you still weren’t at the table. There was no way you were going to skip all three meals just because you were avoiding him. That’s when he saw you across the Great Hall sitting at the Slytherin table, in between Rosier and Crouch, laughing at something that probably wasn’t even that funny.

His appetite was suddenly gone. Not to mention he was getting looks from almost everyone at the Gryffindor table. Alice Fortescue, Marlene, Mary, and even Lily were all avoiding his pleading gazes.

Emmeline Vance, Dorcas Meadows, and Emma Vanity would occasionally catch his attention with their hard and disgusted stares.

Fuck. How many people had you told about what happened?

Tomorrow will be better. Everyone is just tense today.

Tomorrow was not in fact better. It was quite possible that it was almost worse than before.

James felt alone. If you were still here with him, he would wrap himself in your arms and cry into your shoulder. But you weren’t here because he pushed you away, quite harshly he may add.

In the morning you sat with the Slytherins, at lunch you sat with the Slytherins, and at dinner you sat with the Slytherins. You may as well be one by now.

The next day came and everything was the same, except for the fact that his friends were a little more talkative. But he didn’t have you.

You were gone, Lily wouldn’t even look at him, which at this point he didn’t even care. He just wants you back.

On the third day of losing you, you still weren’t around and it was really affecting James. You’ve never gone this long without something as simple as a check-in.

He thinks by now all of Hogwarts has known what he had said to you and for the past two nights he’s laid awake thinking about it, wishing he could take it back.

You hadn’t really told anyone except Dorcas, Pandora, and Evan. Dorcas told Marlene, Marlene told Mary, Lily, and Alice. Pandora told Barty who told Regulus and Mulciber. Regulus told Emmaline and Emma. And from there it spread like wildfire.

A week passed and you got closer to the Slytherins and he increasingly got worse. He lost the quidditch game to Ravenclaw. He failed his Defense Against the Dark Arts paper. And most of all, he was losing it, snapping at everyone and constantly drunk or high.

His friends cornered him in his dorm one afternoon, “Have you thought maybe you’re like this because you love her?”

“Of course I bloody love her! I fucking messed up,”

Merlin. He’s had so much time to think about you and he realized that Peter was right. Lily was just a distraction from you.

He hated how long it took him to figure out his feelings for you. You were just perfect in his eyes — your hair, your teeth, your eyes, your smile, your kindness, your humor, he wanted every single part of you and he irrevocably fucked it up.

“Talk to her, that’s the best you can do.”

He found you in the library, alone this time. Calling your name hesitantly, you looked up from your book with an arched brow.

“Can we talk?”

”No,” you said archly. James was taken aback, not expecting you to say that. You packed your things and James watched as you left the library. What the fuck just happened?

He stormed back into his dorm where the group had added Marlene to the mix. James came in and slammed the door.

“I take it the talk went well,” Marlene added sarcastically.

“Fuck off, Mckinnon,” Marlene hated that. Standing from her place next to Sirius’s bed she walked towards James aggressively.

“No, fuck you, Potter. Dorcas told me what you said. Dorcas! Not even my own best friend told me what happened, I had to hear it from my girlfriend!”

“Ok,”

“You’re so fucking dense it’s actually painful,”

“Please can you just help me talk to her,”

“Go to our dorm, she’s in there, I’ll stand at the door to keep her in,”

“Thank you, Marlene, I’m so serious, I owe you big for this one,”

“Yeah, okay, just go fix it, you’re getting really horrible to be around.”

James raced to your dorm and knocked on the door, which was the mistake. He knew you weren’t going to answer. He opened the door, seeing you laying on your bed with a book.

“We’re talking. Right now,” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes.

“Please, please hear me out,”

“James-“

“No, please,” you let out a breath and nodded your head at him, curtly, egging him to go on.

“I cannot even express how horrible I feel for shouting at you and saying some horrid things. I want you back more than ever, I love you so much and I am so fucking daft for not seeing it sooner,” your gaze softened but you were still skeptical.

“Listen, what you said isn’t what totally bothered me, it was the way you said it. James, I have stood by your side for years while you pinned over Lily, and when you said that I wished I had someone to love me like that, I was hoping it would be you,”

“And it is me, I love you, so much, and I can’t even comprehend my love for you because it’s absolutely wild,”

“How can I even trust what you’re saying right now? How can I know everything isn’t going to revert back to the way it was?”

He moved closer to your bed, his knees against the mattress, standing above you.

"Because I promise to give you everything in my entire being. I want to give you my all - my heart, my mind, my soul,” he sat beside you, taking your face in his hand, brushing away stray hair with his other hand.

“I want you James, but I can’t trust you anymore,”

“We can build on it,” you want him so bad. You need him so bad.

“Do you promise?”

“I swear on my life.”

You lean in and softly press your lips to his. Your lips move rhythmically against his, as if they were meant to be together.

The kiss was more than electric, it was as if everything in the world went silent and the stars had aligned in your favor. The short time you were together you felt a need and an urgency to be with him.

There was nothing you loved more in the world than James Potter.

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dark-and-kawaii · 28 days

Text

Unholy

Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request @rcehb-art : You go to confess your sins but the Devil has other plans...

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: <3 Hope you enjoy it xoxo

Your fingers grasp the fabric of your short skirt, your fingers curling, bunching up the thin fabric as you rubbed your thighs together. The nervousness coursing through your body only heightens the excitement that fills the confessional booth. Waiting to confess something so sinful and perverse.

The unforgiving wooden seat presses against your heated flesh, sending shivers of both pleasure and discomfort down your spine, “F-forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Your voice came out soft and shaky as you spoke…

The silence on the other side of the screen hangs heavy, it seemed he was waiting for you to continue. Biting your bottom lip you could hardly believe you were doing this, living out a fantasy you always dreamt of. To confess and touch yourself before a priest, even if he was just going to sit on the other side and listen to you… It was a twisted fulfillment of your most secret desires.

“I-it's been- it’s been a year since my last confession.”

The thought of what you are about to do sends a delicious shudder coursing through your body, leaving you trembling, “I-I… I want to confess my fantasies. The things I think about when I'm alone at night, things that would be considered sins, father.” Your hand ventures away from your skirt, your nails tracing teasing patterns along your thigh, igniting a sinful pleasure that makes you squirm with wicked delight.

“Impure thoughts, you say? The mind is a fertile ground for temptation. Tell me, do these thoughts trouble you deeply? Go on, child and confess. There's no point in hiding anything from the Lord, my dear," he murmurs, his tone dripping with a sinful allure

"I-I fantasize about being with lots of men, letting them touch me. I've thought about being fucked hard while someone else watches. I-I've- fantasized about having sex with two men at once, Father."

A quiet chuckle escapes from the other side of the confessional, and a smirk dances upon your lips. Your hand glides up the inside of your thigh, fingertips teasingly grazing the sensitive flesh. Your confession alone was enough to make you wet.

“Ah yes, lust, such a delightful sin. And now you seek absolution, to wash away the excitement with a confession, do you?" He asked, his tone husky and it sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth.

"Yes." Your voice came out soft, almost a whisper. "I've also thought about… a priest, watching me. W-while I pleasure myself."

You bit back a soft moan as your fingertips brushed over your pussy, a small pool forming onto the wooden seat.

He chastises you for your vulgarity, “How vulgar. In the house of the Lord no less, do you not have any shame? Do you not see the sins you commit?”

Your heart leapt in your chest at his words, a small whine leaving your lips. You felt the heat of shame wash over you, but instead of feeling embarrassed, it only aroused you further. Your fingers dipped between your folds, the pads of them pressing against your clit, a soft moan escaping you, "Oh, god... I-I’m so sorry, f-forgive me."

Despite your apology, the priest refuses to grant you absolution so easily. He revels in your sinful state, savoring the taste of your transgressions upon your lips and soul.

As your fingers delve deeper within you, the lewd wet sounds reverberate within the confines of the small confessional booth, drowning out all other thoughts. Unbeknownst to you, the priest has silently slipped away from his side of the booth, his presence only revealed when the door creaks open, unveiling a man clad in the pristine white robe of a priest. The hunger in his gaze, the predatory glint in his eyes, is unmistakable. He gazes down upon you, his stare akin to a wolf eyeing its prey.

Embarrassment washes over you, a wave of exposure that leaves your cheeks flushed crimson, the tips of your ears burning bright red. Hastily, you withdraw your fingers, attempting to cover your now exposed state with your skirt, your legs pressed together in a futile attempt to shield yourself. Your eyes avert, avoiding the intense gaze that devours you whole. “I-I didn't think-“ you stammer, the words barely escaping your trembling lips.

You watch as he lifts his foot, the tip of his shoe forcibly prying your closed knees apart, overpowering your feeble resistance. Your hands desert your skirt, gripping the edges of the seat as the heel of his shoe glides against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, inching upward with an agonizing slowness, halting just before touching your unholy wet cunt.

His foot came into your field of vision, a shiny black leather shoe, you watched as he lifted his foot, the tip of his shoe forcibly prying your closed knees apart, overpowering your feeble resistance. Your hands left your skirt, clutching the edges of the seat as the tip of his shoe glides against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, inching upward with an agonizing slowness, halting just before touching your unholy wet cunt.

Tears well up at the corners of your eyes once again, your protestations tinged with desperation. "I didn't mean... I only... Father, please, I-I don't actually w-want this..." you plead, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and confusion.

Raphael felt sympathy for you. Briefly. Until he realized you were pantiless, just another one of those common sluts. Easy to break, easy to manipulate. And so he continued, rubbing the tip of his shoe against the soaked entrance of your pussy, watching as your body shudders and a whimper escapes your beautiful lips.

“Sin is sin, my dear girl,” he responds, his voice laced with a mixture of authority and sadistic pleasure. “And you are here to be cleansed. Don't you wish to be cleansed?”

“I- No- , Father, please.”

He removed his foot, the sound of him removing his robes and the jingle of a belt buckle. Raphael looked down at your face, you were beautiful. Eyes filled with unshed tears, and a look of fear on your face. How he loved seeing his prey in such a state, the sight was enough to make his cock throb. And the way you were biting your lip. Hell, he wanted to push his cock in between those lips, but all in good time.

“Any form of disobedience right now would only prove to me and your god that your soul is too far gone and that you have no desire to be accepted into heaven.”he taunts, his chuckle filled with the deceit of a devil wrapped in the guise of a man of God. Countless souls have fallen prey to his deceptions, their essence stolen, twisted, and forever banished from the pearly gates of heaven.

He gripped the back of your neck, forcing you off the seat flipping you over, so your chest was pressed against the hard surface. His other hand came down on your ass, the sound echoing in the small confessional booth.

You let out a strangled gasp, trying not to scream, the sound coming out more like a squeak, muffled by your arm. The slap hurt, and the stinging didn't subside, it just seemed to get worse. You tried to move, to pull away, but the grip he had on the back of your neck tightened, “Ah Ah Ah, little lamb,” he admonishes. “I can see that you don't want forgiveness. That you have no desire to repent for your sins. Then you must be punished, and only through pain and agony will your sins be washed clean. Only then can you seek forgiveness from your Lord.”

The devil, disguised as the priest, grasps his cock, thick, long, and rigid, teasing it along the dripping slit of your pussy, coating his head in the glistening trail of your slick juices. Raphael presses down on your back, flattening your breasts against the wooden bench, forcing your ass to arch, tilting and exposing your throbbing pussy. He marvels at the sight of your puffy lips, parted and dripping, quite the invitation.

He saw how your puffy lips dripped and parted for him as he pushed his cock forward, sliding past your opening and nudging your clit.

“Ah~ ♡“

Raphael's brows furrowed, he couldn't quite believe that the noise he heard, that sweet, melodious noise came from you. He slid back and forth, relishing the sensation of your soft wet heat until he thrusted forward without mercy.

A scream of both pain and pleasure escapes your lips, only to be silenced by the taste of your own blood as you bite down on your bottom lip. Your hands clutched at the bench, knuckles white, you didn't dare look back. You were in agony, but somehow you were enjoying it, the pain mixed with the pleasure. Your body had betrayed you, and the fact that the priest had noticed and was now taking advantage of the fact.

“Look at how wet you are, how eager you are to accept the sinful pleasures of the flesh.” he taunts, his voice dripping with the satisfaction of corrupting a lost lamb.

“Please-“

Your pleas fall upon deaf ears, drowned out by the sounds of his hips colliding with your ass.

“Does it hurt, little lamb?”

"Y-yes~."

"Yes who?"

"Yes, Father!!!~" He could hear the pleasure in amongst the pain in your voice.

The Devils grip tightened, nails digging into your skin. He could feel himself getting close, but he wanted to hear you sing. To make you moan, to give into the sinful desires you were feeling.

He pulled out slowly, looking down to watch his cock emerge from your clenching tight pussy, coated in your cream, your cunt lips clinging to his shaft. He thrust back into you, grinding into you softly before he began to fuck you, ploughing into you as deeply as he could.

You couldn't keep silent any longer. Moans, gasps and whimpers escaped your lips, each time his hips slammed into you.

“Good girl. Let the church hear how you're giving into the Devil's temptations.” He grinned, his hands sliding up your back and into your hair, pulling hard.

You whimpered as he pulled, feeling the sting in your scalp, your back arching to try and lessen the pain. His cock dived into you, the sound of your wet cunt being punished by his cock loud in your ears. He pistoned in and out of you remorselessly. Your moans loud as your hips began to fuck back.

"Fu~ Y-Yes Father~!! God, yes!!!” Your cunt clenched around him, squeezing and pulling him deeper.

“There is no God here, lamb. Only a Devil, one who will devour you. One that will make you scream. Make you bleed. Make you beg as I fill your womb with my tainted seed. And when your Lord looks down and sees you, he will reject you. Turn his gaze from you and your swollen belly-“

“FU~ C-c-CUUUUM~!! PLEASEEE~!! PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME!! PLEASE FILL ME WITH YOUR DEVILISH SPAWN!!! P-PLEASE~!!”

"Such a sinful little slut, you are.”

“YES~!!!”

His grip tightening, nails digging into the flesh of your scalp. You let out a pained whine, feeling his nails cutting through the skin, causing blood to trickle down the sides of your face.

He demands your allegiance, questioning your loyalty to the divine. “Who do you worship? Whose cock will you serve? Will you pledge your soul to the devil himself?”

"Yes~, M-My soul, my body and my cunt are yours~!! I'm all yours~! My body belongs to you!! The Devil himself~! Oh, oh, oh my fuck~!! OH, FU~!!! HAA~!!”

You screamed as your orgasm washed over you, the pleasure coursing through you, a tidal wave, drowning you in euphoria. The tight ring of muscle, clamped around his cock, milking his hot seed as it gushed into you, the false priest’s cum painting your walls white, invading your fertile womb.

As he pulls out, both of you gasping and panting, he admires his handiwork. You, slumped over the bench, covered in a sheen of sweat, panting for breath, your eyes glazed over in a mixture of bliss and exhaustion. His seed dripping out of your well abused cunt…

But amidst the exhaustion, a wicked grin spreads across your lips as you gaze at the false priest. Your mind races knowing that the devil's seed now resides within you. The future is uncertain, but the past half hour has left you craving more.

In the back of your mind, you think of Haarlep, the man waiting for you at home. You hope that he will believe the lie, that the child growing in your womb is his….

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep #bg3 raphael #tav #raphael the cambion #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #bg3 smut

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streetlight11 · 4 months

Text

I Will Always Love You

Summary: You have known each other for years and practically watched the other grow up thanks to living right next door. Nobody knows how you both truly feel except for yourselves. Now that you're in your mid twenties, you felt the need to put all that childish acts aside and finally acknowledge that feeling you've both kept in your hearts for years

Theme: neighbours au, friends to sort of enemies to lovers

Genre: slowburn, smidge of angst, romance, fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk, slight tension, snowed in briefly, slight anxiety, mild language

W/C: 10k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

a/n: Happy New Year everyone! 🎉 May 2024 bring peace, health, happiness and success to you all 🩵 Thank you to those who follow my account and for liking my writings that I've posted thus far! To many more writings and ideas this year 💃🏽

You and Minho go way back. You practically grew up with him since he was indeed your neighbour. It’s impossible to split you up with him back in kindergarten and the first few years of primary school. Both of you were like two peas in a pod, even your close friends and classmates knew about your very close friendship with him. Despite his odd personality that just screams Scorpio and his peculiar love for dark humour, you seem to adapt to him really well that not many people can do. Unfortunately, halfway through primary school, his friends started to separate you from Minho.

They would hang out with him before you could find him after school, they would call you multiple different names saying you’re clingy, they would embarrass you by saying you only stick under Minho’s arms like a leech wherever he went. And the worse part is, Minho did nothing to defend you. He did nothing to stop his own friends from bullying you like that.

That was the reason why you slowly distanced yourself from him since his friends would literally shoo you away like you were a peasant.

Eventually, you grew a dislike of him for what he did, even up till this day where you were both turning 25 in September and October. The thing is, you both still lived with your parents which means you still see him everyday just that he lives a completely separate life from you. Your sister however has moved out long ago since she got married.

No doubt, you miss being close to him.

Those times where you would laugh and play catch with him in his backyard. When you’d cry in his arms when someone in kindergarten steals your crayons. Where you would stay up with him past bedtime, writing whatever you wanted to say to each other on drawing blocks and showing it to the other at your bedroom windows that were facing each other. How he would walk with you to and from school, wanting to act like the bigger one since he’s a boy when in reality, he’s 27 days younger than you. Minho was your best friend but that’s just it, isn’t it?

He was your best friend… Not anymore…

Both of you grew up really well thanks to puberty and deep down, Minho couldn’t lie that you still look the same except you’ve gotten prettier. Your fashion sense is still somewhat boyish but not as bad as when you were younger, where you just wore big shirts and ¾ trousers. Now, you’ve worn dresses and skirts a few times for special occasions but you always wore jeans.

Sometimes you go for a feminine outfit with skinny jeans and crop tops while on some days you go for oversized shirts or hoodies with baggy cargo pants or jeans. And you are never a heels girl, only for special occasions. Most of the time, you are seen in sneakers and it suits you a lot. He’d be damned but he agrees that you look the best in sneakers.

You look a lot more confident in sneakers compared to heels. The only thing is, he’s been hiding a big secret from everyone including his parents that he doesn’t plan on revealing it to anyone anytime soon. Minho can lie to everyone but he cannot lie to himself. Seeing you grow up before his eyes, watching all the good and bad times you go through, seeing how puberty did its magic on you and witnessing how different of a person you are now in terms of personality, Minho couldn’t help but fall in love with you.

Unfortunately, his ego is too high for him to easily admit that so he chose to keep that a secret from everyone and act as if he still doesn’t like you.

It is a rainy Saturday evening and your friends Changbin and Chan came over earlier to study and do your assignments together with you. Changbin drove here while Chan rode his motorbike and since the weather wasn’t that great, your mother insists for them to stay for dinner or at least until the rain stops. You were in the kitchen, helping your mother prepare the food and plates on the dining table when they both offered to help. Your dad was out working overtime so it’s just you and your mother at home with your two friends.

She then asked you to text your dad saying there’s food at home and he doesn’t have to buy it after work. You remembered your phone was in your room so you rushed up the stairs to find it. A few minutes passed and you still haven’t come downstairs. Mothers being mothers, she gave the boys a sympathetic smile before she asked either one of them to go check on you.

Changbin nodded and left as Chan stayed behind to help scoop out the beef stew into the bowl. Meanwhile, Changbin softly approaches your room to see where you are. When he saw you by your vanity table where your phone is charging, he tiptoed over to you who was standing with your back facing him.

You were busy texting your best friend Lily when suddenly, a strong muscular pair of arms wrapped around your waist to surprise you. You gasped softly from surprise, glancing to your right to find Changbin’s grinning face just staring back at you.

“What’s taking you so long, dummy?” He asked, earning a laugh from you.

“I was texting Lily. Why? Missed me already?” You teased him knowing there was no effect on him because he is already happily in love with his best friend and boyfriend, Felix.

“Of course, I always miss you.” Changbin said, nudging your cheek with his nose playfully.

He finally lets go of you and leaves the room with you hand in hand. Both of you completely missed the way someone witnessed all this from across your bedroom window in the dark. You came back downstairs to have dinner with everyone, only for your dad to come home when you were halfway done with your meal. Hours passed and you were in your bedroom with your friends when Chan stood by your window to look at the night sky. Suddenly, his words caught your attention.

“Hey Y/N, is that your neighbour you told us about?” Chan asked while staring at something downstairs. You got out of bed and walked towards him only to follow his trail of sight. Sure enough, you saw Minho playing catch with his cats. If you remember correctly, they were Soonie, Doongie and Dori. You naturally smiled at the sight of him playing with his cats.

“Yeah…” You simply said before Changbin frowned at you with a question in mind.

“Wasn’t he like your best friend at one point?” He asked, making you sigh and walked back into your room to sit on your bed.

“He was…”

“Then what happened?” Chan asked as he now sat on your study chair, curiously waiting for your reply.

“We… grew apart.”

“There must be a reason why you grew apart, no? I mean, if you two were really close friends, you wouldn’t wanna grow apart from each other… Unless something happened that made you choose that path.” Changbin said and you immediately felt upset.

“We used to be inseparable. He never told me he wanted me to give him space or anything and he simply stayed close to me too wherever we went. Until our third year in primary school, his friends started calling me names and said I was always clinging onto him like a leech. He never said anything to defend me or stop his friends. Ever since then, I slowly distanced myself from him because of his friends and he never apologised so I just decided to forget about it.” You finally explained to them the full story.

“I’m so sorry…” Chan said, making you smile despite the tears threatening to fall.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” You said as they both looked at each other and Changbin decided to drop the bomb on you.

“Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?” You asked as you waited for his reply.

“Do you miss him?”

You fell silent for a while, not knowing how to respond. Your mind screams no but your heart screams yes. It’s difficult to choose one answer but you knew deep down, which is the right answer you’ve been holding onto all these years.

“I do…”

They chose to drop the topic and talked about the plan next weekend to hangout at the club. They soon left to head home after saying and hugging you goodbye at your doorstep since it was no longer raining. That night, before you went to sleep, you walked over to close your window and turn on your air conditioner when you saw Minho cradling Soonie in his arms as he entered his bedroom. You quickly closed the window and drew the translucent curtain over to cover your window while you peeked to see him.

Minho kissed Soonie’s nose as he nuzzled his face into her body. She licked his nose a few times before he placed her down on his bed and soon walked over to his window. You quickly hid behind the wall, afraid he might see you. If only you knew the reason why he actually went to his window, you wouldn’t have moved away that quickly.

A week later, you were just getting ready to head out with Chan and Changbin while your parents were out for their anniversary dinner. You wore a pretty lavender body fitting dress that stops about two inches above your knees. Changbin texted you saying he was already on his way to your house in a cab, together with Chan. Knowing they would reach in just 5 minutes, you decided to head downstairs and waited there instead. You had just locked your front door when the sound of a door closing followed by keys jingling made you turn to your right.

There, you saw Minho leaving his house as well. He was wearing a black silk dress shirt with the first few buttons undone, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his light washed denim skinny jeans and a pair of mens boots. His hair was styled up to show his forehead and bangs to fall and frame his face.

He looked sickeningly handsome. You’re almost jealous of it.

“Does mommy know you’re sneaking out of the house?” Minho asked as he came next to you who was just leaning on the short brick wall that separates your house yard from his.

“I don’t need to sneak out because they know where I’m going.” You said with a soft scoff.

“Mmm, so they’re aware that you’re going out wearing something like this? Naughty girl…” Minho teased you with that charming smirk on his face.

“I’m 25, Minho. I can wear whatever I want.”

“Technically, you’re still 24.” He’s right. You still have four months till your birthday but who cares.

“You’re so annoying.” You whispered to yourself as you saw a taxi gradually slowing down towards you. When the vehicle finally comes to a stop in front of you, the two heads that popped out from the windows made you relax. It was Chan, Changbin and Felix. You entered the cab without saying anything else to Minho, ignoring the way he was keeping his eye on you even after the cab had driven off. One thing he completely forgot to do was to compliment you on how pretty you looked tonight.

Half an hour later, you arrived at the club and soon got out of the vehicle with your friends. You managed to enter the club since the queue wasn’t that long and made your way to the bar to get your drinks. You stayed by Chan the entire time since Felix was with Changbin. That night, you had no idea why but you just felt like letting loose and drinking however much booze your body can take.

Minutes ticked by and you were now on your 7th shot of tequila. You were clearly drunk but not enough to drop dead unconscious. Chan was talking to you about this girl he met on this dating app and was just listing out all the things he liked about her when you suddenly dragged him to the dancefloor. He danced with you with no sense of awareness of your surroundings. Everyone else was just as drunk as you, dancing their hearts out letting their limbs move to the beat.

You were too busy swaying your hips to the song when someone slips in front of you and takes your hands in his gently. Your vision was hazy as you found it difficult to keep your eyes open. The person danced with you, bringing your hands up over his shoulders and dropping them there while his hands rested on your lower back comfortably. For some reason, you felt like the touch was very familiar.

The music was drowning you, wanting to just focus your vision on the person you’re dancing with. Just then, he leaned down to say something in your ear, loud enough to hear over the booming music.

“You’re very drunk.” He said, your mind was running amuck.

“I know.” You giggled but he kept his lips by your ears, not wanting to pull back and let you see his face.

“I should take you home.”

“N-No… Take me to your home.” You giggled as you tangled your fingers in his hair softly to play with it.

“I don’t think you will like that, Y/N.”

Oh, he knows your name. This must be Chan… right?

He then guides you towards the entrance, only for you to panic saying you need to tell your friends that you’re going home and all that so they wouldn’t get worried. But instead, he told you to do that in the cab to avoid you from falling down. Not long after, the cab came and you entered the vehicle with him. During the car ride, you ended up falling over with your head in his lap. You fell asleep with your left arm stretched over the seat while your right hand gently held onto his thigh for support.

The next thing you knew, you woke up the next morning in your bed with a really bad hangover. And yet, the memories from yesterday still lingers in the back of your mind and the mysterious guy remains unknown. Later in the afternoon, you went to make a group call with Chan and Changbin and they picked up your call with ease.

“Hello?” You asked into the line and they both replied at the same time.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Were any of you guys with me last night at the dancefloor?” You said and you could hear both of them humm in thought.

“I was with you briefly when you dragged me to the centre but I don’t really remember anything after. I was really drunk.” Chan laughed.

“I was with Lix the entire time. So I’m clearly out of the picture.” Changbin giggled as you heard a shuffle from his end but then it stopped.

“Because I was dancing with someone and he sent me home last night. I thought it was one of you guys.”

“Definitely not me then.” Changbin said and so did Chan.

“I don’t think I was sober enough to even send myself home…” Chan said lightly but then he paused. The line fell silent and he spoke up again, “But if neither of us sent you home, who did? And how would they know where you live?”

He does have a great point.

“That’s what I’m confused about. How would a stranger know where I lived? Unless it’s one of you guys?” You asked as your brain began to search for ideas on who it could be. All but one was suddenly missing from your list by accident.

“Maybe it’s your sister!” Changbin said only for you to scoff in disbelief.

“It was a guy! And why would my married sister be at a club when she has a pair of twins to take care of?” You asked, only for Chan to laugh out loud and tease the other male in the call.

“Maybe it’s your cousin?” Chan asked but you knew it wasn’t a relative. Just then, Changbin mentions someone you completely forgot about.

“What if it’s him?”

“Him… who?” You asked in a slow pace, hoping he wasn’t talking about who you’re thinking.

“Your hot but ex-best friend neighbour?” You can’t believe he said it.

“No… No, it can’t be. How would he know I was there? That’s impossible.”

“Probably he just happened to be at that same club. That is the only club in this area anyway…” Chan suggested, making you frown. What if it’s true? That’s the only logical explanation as to how the person knew where you lived and knew your name. If it wasn’t any of your friends, it couldn’t have been a total stranger. But why? Why would he do that when he clearly didn’t have to?

This isn’t making any sense…

Nevertheless, you made an excuse saying you needed to help your mom run some errands so you ended the call. That night, you were just sitting by your window staring at the beautiful starry night sky when you saw Minho enter his room. He paced around his room with a deep frown on his face. Just then, he took you by surprise as he grabbed the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless for you. A soft gasp left your lips as you quickly closed your window before he saw you.

Little did you know, right after he took off his hoodie, he heard the sound of your windows being closed so his gaze naturally flew across the room just in time to see you lock your last window and disappeared into your room. Minho chuckled quietly to himself as he went to take a quick shower. After he was done, he laid in bed staring into his ceiling with the same scene just repeating over and over again in his head.

The way you danced with him last night, the way your fingers tangled into his hair, the way you fell into his lap, the way you slept the entire car ride back home, the way he carried you into your home and all the way to your bedroom, the way you unconsciously whined when he pulled away from you, the way he took the chance to gently caress your cheek while whispering the words he never dared to say to you in person now, the way your lips looked so soft and kissable but he had to restrain himself from doing something while knowing you were drunk.

Minho pushed all those thoughts to the back of his mind, hoping he’ll forget all about it as the days go by. Wanting none of that to bother him because if it does, he would probably come knocking at your doorstep and tell you how he truly feels about you. Clearly his ego would be crushed by that so he chooses not to.

Months had passed and it was your birthday today. Your parents invited your sister’s family, your friends Chan, Changbin, Lily and also Minho’s family over to the house for your birthday celebration. It was just going to be a private birthday party for you. You wore a pretty blue semi flowy dress to match the theme of the decorations. Your mother knew you loved blue so that’s why the decorations were all blue in colour. With the right amount of food and desserts she ordered, you can’t wait to have a good time. The only thing is, you were kind of hoping Minho would come.

You missed him a lot but you weren’t sure if he feels the same towards you. Nonetheless, those thoughts were thrown out of the bus the minute your friends arrived. The party started after 3pm and your friends came just one minute after 3 so you got distracted really fast. As the hour went by, your sister, your brother in law and your twin nephew and niece finally came. You greeted them warmly while your brother in law handed you a gift bag.

“Happy birthday Y/N! Your sister and I picked this out for you so we hope you like it.” He said, making you laugh.

“Thank you! I just hope it’s not something weird.” You joked and they laughed. Your niece and nephew hugged you to say hello and wish you a happy birthday before they went to greet your parents. A few minutes later, your doorbell rang again so you went to see who it was. Surprised to see Mr and Mrs Lee standing there with a gift bag and a box filled with home baked cookies.

“Happy birthday dear. Here’s your birthday present and the cookies you loved to eat when you were younger.” Mrs Lee said, making you giggle.

“Aww Mrs Lee, you shouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay my dear. Today is your day.” Mr Lee said as you welcomed them in. Though you did feel a little sad that Minho wasn’t here with them, maybe he really doesn't care about you anymore. You joined your friends in your living room as they played with the twins. Just then, Changbin spoke up from beside you.

“He didn’t come?”

“No…” You said but somehow, he could tell your tone was off.

“Were you hoping he’d come?” He asked softly, not wanting to upset you in any way possible. Your silence was enough for him to apologise even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. Changbin rested his hand over your knee and gently caressed it to comfort you and it partially worked. Hours passed and you were just playing with your niece when the doorbell rang.

“Y/N sweetie, can you go and see who that is?” Your mom called from the dining table where the adults were eating and chatting. With that being said, you nodded and got up to see who it was. Maybe your mom ordered something she forgot about. As soon as you pulled the door open, you froze at the sight of someone too familiar standing at your doorstep. Minho glanced down at your attire before meeting your eyes and he gave you a little smirk.

“W-What are you doing here?” You asked rather softly, unable to calm your nerves.

“What does it look like? I came to celebrate your birthday… And also have free food.” Minho said as he took a step forward while you took a step back. Minho smirked at you cheekily before he tapped the tip of your nose with his finger and whispered, “It’s good to see you again.”

The minute he walked in, your parents greeted him with so much love. Your mom hugged him tightly and he embraced her as though she was his mother. Your mother asked him to make himself at home and just take whatever food he wants, only for him to thank her. Meanwhile, you glanced over to your friends and both Changbin and Chan looked at you with shocked eyes.

The twins greeted Minho warmly as he lifted your niece on his waist while your nephew ran to take his favourite stuffed animal and bring it to Minho.

You’ve never seen him mingle around with kids before, not really knowing what to expect considering he’s an only child. So to see him being greeted warmly by kids who basically met him for the first time, it’s making your heart tingle. To avoid looking obvious, you quickly went to sit next to Changbin while Lily and Chan were talking about school. Your friend looks at you worriedly but all you did was smile.

“Are you okay?” He asked, making you nod.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, knowing you damn well that you’re not anywhere near okay.

“Yeah! I’m okay.” You smiled as you watched Minho get dragged by the kids to play with them together with Chan and Lily who were seated by the toys. Every now and then, Minho would glance at you and you’ll look away as though you didn’t mean to look at him.

Minho’s lips would unconsciously curl upwards slightly without making it obvious that he’s smiling at you. The sun was starting to set and your mother was preparing the candles for your cake. You were just in your room, charging your phone and also wanting to get away from the whole awkward situation downstairs for a bit when a familiar voice speaks up from your bedroom doorstep.

“I thought the birthday girl should be downstairs mingling with her guests?” He asked as you turned around to find Minho leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Why does he look so fucking handsome tonight in just a plain black shirt and jeans?

“I was just about to head back down.” You said, avoiding his gaze as you turned your back to him once more. Minho carefully walked over to you while keeping the conversation alive.

“Really? You don’t seem like you are going to move any time soon though.”

“I-I have to send an email for my school work.”

“For 10 minutes? Yeah right.” He said as his voice sounded a lot closer now. You turned around to say something to him but instead, you flinched back when your arms accidentally crashed into his chest. A soft gasp left your lips when he smirked down at you charmingly.

“U-Um… We should go downstairs.” You said as you slipped past him to head towards the door but Minho caught your wrist and tugs you back slightly to stop you from walking.

“Hey… I just-” Minho’s words get stopped when your sister’s voice echoes down the hallway.

“Y/N? Minho? Come on! It’s time to cut the cake!” She suddenly appears by your door only for Minho to let go of your wrist gently so she wouldn’t question anything. Soon, all three of you went downstairs but while you were about to head to the dining table where the cake was lit, Minho spoke up, earning a frown from you.

“I have to go. I just remembered I need to submit my essay tonight and I still haven’t finished it yet.” Minho said as he bowed to your parents and was about to walk out of the house when you reached for his hand in yours and tugged him back gently.

“N-No, please… Don’t go?” You whispered with a shaky breath. Minho could’ve sworn he saw tears, his heart broke seeing you tear up but he couldn’t just hug and kiss you right there even if that’s all he could think of. So instead, he reached up to hold your face with his right hand and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb to comfort you.

“Happy birthday Y/N.” He whispered softly as he turned and left without looking back. You stood by the door as Chan came over to take you in. Not before he rested a gentle hand on your lower back and comforted you as best as he could.

“Come on… He’ll come around soon. You know he will.” He said, only for you to sigh. Throughout the night, you weren’t as happy as you were a few hours ago. From time to time, you kept glancing over to the house next to yours. Your friends could tell that your mind was somewhere else so they decided not to stay long. But before they left, they made sure to hug you tightly and Lily didn’t forget to say something sweet to you.

“If he’s meant for you, he will come back. Only idiots would be dumb enough to not choose you as a partner.” Lily said, making you giggle lightly. That night, you couldn’t help but feel sad thinking about how Minho slipped away from you yet again. You were just curled up in bed when there was a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“Baby? Are you still awake?” Your mother asked as she opened your door. You hummed to respond, hearing her walk closer until she was right behind you.

“Oh, my sweet baby. Come here.” She said while climbing into bed, only for you to immediately throw yourself in her arms and cry. She held you in her arms securely while you cried your heart out.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I-I never said this to anyone before… b-but I-I miss him…”

“I know, baby. I’m sure he misses you too… Just… Give him some time to figure things out. I’m sure he’ll come around.” She said, hoping you’ll feel better. Thankfully, you calmed down with her words so you stopped crying and she kissed your forehead before tucking you into bed.

It’s been 2 and a half months now since your birthday party. You didn’t celebrate Minho’s birthday simply because his parents told you he was out of the country with his friends for his birthday. A part of you knows he was just trying to avoid you and so his parents couldn’t throw a party for him only to invite you. Just last week, your parents told you about their plan on going for a staycay with the Lee’s family for the holidays. Apparently they’ve already booked the accommodation which is a beautiful wooden lodge up in the snowy mountains.

It was only after they told you that you remembered it was your friend’s wedding on the day they planned to leave for the mountains. Unfortunately for you, it seems like you have no other choice but to go the next day instead. How you would make your way to the mountain, that’s your task to do some planning at least you can join them on the trip anyway. Your sister and her family would be going too but they’re all leaving on the first day morning but you had to stay behind.

Today was the day where your family and his, had already left to go to the lodge up the mountains while you’re here preparing for your friend’s wedding. Hours prior to leaving the house, you made sure to pack all the clothes you need for your trip so that you wouldn’t be rushing tomorrow or tonight knowing you’ll be back way past 7pm despite the wedding reception starting at 1pm. It was one of your old friend’s wedding from college. Her name is Roseanne and she is considered one of your close friends.

You wore a pretty turquoise boat neck dress that stops a few inches below your knees, pairing that with a simple pair of black open toe heels. Your hair cascades down your shoulder and back in soft straight waves.

When you arrived at the wedding venue, it was very beautiful. The colour scheme for the wedding decorations and the altar is just spectacular. Since you were there alone, you didn’t really know anyone there except for Roseanne’s sister and parents. Time passes by so fast, you don’t even realise it was almost 10 o’clock now. You knew you needed to head home and get your rest since you planned to leave early in the morning tomorrow.

With that being said, you bid her family goodbye and made sure to meet Roseanne and her newlywed husband to say your final congrats before leaving the venue. You called a cab and it came as soon as you called. The drive back home seemed shorter than the drive to the venue earlier, maybe due to less traffic at night.

Nevertheless, you paid the cab fare and got out of the vehicle after saying thank you. The cab driver soon drives off while you went inside your house and locked it.

You let out a tired sigh as you dragged yourself up the stairs to your bedroom. You turned on the lights and walked over to your vanity table beside your bedroom window. Taking a quick glance, you saw that his bedroom was dark. You wondered what he could be doing there at the lodge with your family.

With a soft sigh, you combed your fingers through your hair and brought it up to hold it in place with your claw clip. You began to remove your makeup with your makeup wipes while blasting your favourite tunes. Luckily you already packed your clothes and necessities. A few minutes later, you just left the bathroom down the hall when your phone started ringing. You glanced down to see your mother’s caller ID on your lock screen so you answered it.

“Hello?” You said into the line.

“Hi sweetie. Have you packed your bags?”

“Yeah. I’m just bringing my luggage and my sling bag.”

“Great! Anyway, there seems to be a change of plans. Minho is actually home right now and he planned to drive up the mountains tonight so he would reach here tomorrow morning. Since you’re both at home, why don’t you go with him tonight? He just got off the phone with his mother and he said he’s okay with driving here with you.”

Minho’s not with them?

“Oh… Uh… Sure, I guess.” You said, sounding a little unconvincing to her and she laughed.

“Alright dear, just be downstairs before midnight, okay? I love you baby.”

“Okay mom. I love you too.” You said before ending the call.

Great… What better way to have a reunion by spending a 6 hour drive with him. This is gonna be awkward…

Nonetheless, you did what was necessary before midnight rolled around. It was finally midnight in a blink of an eye and you were just locking your front door when you heard his voice speak up from behind you.

“Didn’t think you’d be left behind as well.”

You turned around to find him strolling towards you in his sweatpants, hoodie with his oversized shirt peeking underneath it and a long windbreaker jacket over it. His hair was damp and fluffy so you’re assuming he just got out of the shower and yet, he still looks good.

“Wedding bells were calling me. What about you? Why aren’t you there with them already?” You asked as he took your luggage from you and placed it in his car boot and proceeded to close the door. Once you were both inside his jeep, he started the car and drove off smoothly not forgetting to answer you.

“I had to retake my exam today. I suck. I know, okay? Don’t judge.” He said, making you raise your hands in a surrender position. Minho’s lips curled up into a cute smile that made you look out the window to avoid his gaze.

For the rest of the drive, both of you got quiet. He focused on driving while you were dozing off after a tiring day. Minho never held a grudge against you for sleeping while he had to sacrifice his sleep and stay awake to drive. Although, he does tend to glance over to his right to check on you but it leaves his heart fluttering every time he does that. It’s been nearly 4 hours since the drive and as he got higher up the mountains, the snow was beginning to get heavier.

Cool air seeps through the car gaps, causing you to stir awake from the sudden drop in car temperature despite the heater already turned on. You glanced up to see the car completely covered in snow while a thick windbreaker was placed over your curled up body in the passenger seat.

“How much longer till we reach the lodge?” You asked tiredly as you peeked the time on your phone screen.

“Another 2 hours, give or take.” He said while keeping his eyes on the slippery road. There’s no way you can make it to the lodge in this weather. With how heavy the snow was falling, it could be a snowstorm coming your way pretty soon. So to avoid any unfortunate events, you knew it would be the best decision to stop somewhere and wait till the morning to continue your journey. Upon having this thought, you noticed there was a hotel lodge just a few metres ahead.

“Stop there. We can’t go any further in this kind of weather.” You said as Minho drove to the open parking lot at slow speed due to the piled up snow covering his tires and almost 6 inch tall snow that was covering the ground. Once you were parked, both of you felt a little worried considering it’s now or never.

“Leave our luggages here. We’re just here to let the night pass anyway.” He said, making you frown even though you knew he had a point.

With that being said, both of you struggled to get out of the car but you still made it to the lodge safely as he clicked the lock button on his key. You entered the lodge first with him following behind you and there were quite a number of families there too and it looks like they’re snowed in as well. Minho approached the counter where a man was seen a little overwhelmed by the new guests who showed up.

“Hi, can I know why are all these people gathered here?” Minho asked, only for the man to politely smile and answer professionally.

“They’re just here for shelter since the weather forecast for tonight isn’t that great. There is a high chance that we will be stuck here tonight. Really sorry for the unfortunate situation.”

“It’s fine but uh… do you guys happen to have a spare room for us to rest in for the night?” Minho asked as you simply watched quietly beside him. You’d usually butt in and argue back with whatever decisions he’s making but tonight, you’re too tired to function.

“We do have a small room but there’s only one bed and our heaters are not that strong due to the horrible weather. We can’t fix it until tomorrow when the mechanics are open. Will that be okay?” The man said, giving Minho the chance to look at you to see how you feel about the suggestion.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Didn’t you hear what he just said? There’s just one bed and the heater isn’t working well. Do you still want the room or not?” He asked.

“At this point, I don’t even care.” You sighed tiredly only for Minho to give the man a shrug of his shoulders.

“Fine. We’ll take it.” Minho said as he then made the payment for the room. A few minutes later, you were both sent to your room on the third level. You thanked the worker as you entered the room after Minho who was now holding the door for you. As expected, the room was just barely warm with the cold air still surrounding the room completely. You were in three layers of clothing and yet you’re still shivering. The first thing you did after taking off your shoes was to climb into bed and bury yourself under the thick covers.

You were just curled up on one side of the bed when you felt the mattress dip with his weight. Minho pulled the cover up so he could also bury himself in it. He laid on his back while you laid on your side with your back facing him. The room was silent as nobody said anything but with the subtle shifts and movements, you knew that he wasn’t asleep.

“Should’ve asked for an extra blanket. It’s still so cold…” He whispered as he shifted a little closer to you when he felt the nice warmth radiating off you.

“I just hope the weather gets better later. But right now, all I need is sleep.” You said as you buried your arms closer to your chest to keep yourself warm. Silence fills the room again but you were still shivering and Minho could feel the bed vibrating softly from it.

“You know what? Fuck it. I can’t sleep like this.” Minho said as you wondered what he was going to do next.

Just then, you didn’t expect him to shuffle towards you until you felt his chest pressing against your back while his left arm slid over your waist and reached for your arm. He slips his hand into your right hand, lacing his fingers perfectly with yours before tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest now, afraid to make the slightest of sound and movement. But Minho calms you down by caressing your hand with his thumb, feeling his soft lips press on your neck.

“Are you still cold?” He whispered quietly against your neck, making you let out a very soft whimper before saying no.

“Good.” He replied to you, holding you closer right after. This kept you warm and you both eventually managed to fall asleep.

A few hours later, you woke up feeling comfortably warm and fuzzy. You let out a soft moan as you stirred awake, feeling something soft brush against your forehead. When you manage to open your eyes, that’s where you realise the sleeping position you were in. Minho was laying on his back with you resting your head on his chest.

Your left hand was tucked between your bodies while your right hand was lacing fingers with his that was hanging past your shoulder. Minho stirred awake when he felt you let go of his hand only to slide up his chest and stopped on the side of his neck. You stayed like that even when you felt his hand glide up and down your right forearm softly.

“This feels nice…” He said quietly, not really expecting a reply from you. Your heart swelled knowing he was talking about being this close and comfortable to you once again after years.

“We can stay like this for a while more…” Your voice was almost a whisper but thankfully he heard you. Because the minute those words left your lips, you felt him press the sweetest soft kiss to your forehead. Minho couldn’t stop himself from cracking a smile against your skin, knowing you probably felt it.

“I wouldn’t wanna let go anyway.” He said ever so softly, making you blush. With that being said, you snuggled deeper into his chest. Trying to ignore the urge to kiss him right there. About two hours later, you finally got out of bed and headed back down to resume your journey to the family lodge. Neither of you mentioned the cute little cuddle session simply because you were too shy to address it in the car and even when you arrived at the lodge a few minutes past noon.

Everyone asked you and Minho about what happened last night and where you’ve been, so you told them everything. All until the cuddling part. They were just glad that you both made it to the lodge safely so you could finally enjoy the holidays in the snowy mountains.

Throughout the next two days, you were enjoying yourself a lot on the trip. From the activities to sightseeing to homemade food and to family bonding. This has probably been the only time you saw just how fun Minho truly is and how loving he was towards your sister’s children. The twins are already 9 years old and yet, Minho seems to win both their hearts. Maybe including yours too.

It was the last night of the family trip, all of you were gathered around the christmas tree when your parents began to give out gifts to their kids and grandkids. Followed by Minho’s parents giving him his presents. You got a few pretty tops from your parents while your sister got you a beautiful necklace with a simple heart charm. Just then, Minho’s mother held out a wrapped present to you with a bright smile on her face.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. This is a gift from us that Minho helped to choose. We hope you like it.” She said, making you thank her while taking the gift from her. All eyes were now on you as the kids wanted to help you unwrap so you let them do that. Once the present was revealed, a soft gasp left your lips when you saw the brand of the box. It was a shoe, not just any shoe though… It was your favourite shoe brand.

You carefully pulled the cover open and peeled the paper back only to gasp out loud this time. It was the exact shoe that you wanted to buy for yourself the other day but was prioritizing your expenses to only buy what you need.

“I love it… I wanted to buy this a few weeks ago but I didn’t…” Your voice grew softer with every word until you were now looking at Minho.

“I noticed you like shoes. So I just gambled and picked the one with a baby blue accent. Didn’t know you wanted this exact one though.” He said, making you giggle.

“Well, thank you for the gift then.” You said with a smile, earning a laugh from him.

An hour later, everyone was starting to disperse to head to bed but you weren’t sleepy yet. You bid everyone goodnight but you stayed seated against the couch facing the fireplace. You were just admiring the shoe when a familiar voice caught your attention.

“Be careful not to burn the shoe.” Minho said as he approached you with a teasing smirk.

“Of course I won’t. I’m not that clumsy.” You replied to him while putting the shoe back in the box and pushing it under the tree, away from the fireplace. Minho took a seat on the couch as you got up and plopped down beside him.

“But really though… Thank you for the gift.” You said, earning a soft smile from him. Both of you fell silent, blankly staring at the fireplace instead of each other. You were so close to removing yourself from the room, thinking he probably feels awkward with you here now that you’re alone again but he spoke up before you could run away.

“I’m sorry…” He said very quietly while staring into the fire.

“What are you sorry for?” You asked over a whisper, finally turning to look at him. Minho kept his gaze ahead but you saw the sadness lingering in his facial expression.

“For everything? I’ve hurt you a lot and only now do I have the balls to apologise.” He chuckled but it wasn’t a happy one.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” You said with a smile on your face, ignoring the tears that were threatening to fall. After what felt like hours, Minho finally turns to you with the deepest frown you’ve seen on him. He took his time boring his eyes into yours in search of something unknown to you.

“Why?” He asked and you were confused.

“Why not? That’s what friends do, no? They forgive each other…” You said easily only to go speechless when his eyes grew wide at the word ‘friends’. This was already pretty obvious where he got caught up and it doesn’t make sense to you. Sure you haven’t really been doing friend stuff with him for years but you still consider him your friend, even though deep down you want him to be something more.

“Friends?” He whispered out as a question so you couldn’t help but giggle lightly to brighten up the mood slightly.

“Yeah? Okay fine, technically we’re neighbours. Does that sound right to you?” You asked, only for him to finally crack a smile. This simple sight has undoubtedly awoken the butterflies in your stomach.

Both of you fell silent briefly, not really sure how to continue the conversation. You stared at your hands in your lap, picking on your cuticles out of anxiety and he noticed.

Minho could never stand seeing you having anxiety. The cuticle picking, shaking legs, fidgeting limbs and all he wants to do is to hold you close and tell you that he’s there with you. He takes this opportunity to calm you down and by that, he reaches one hand up to hold the side of your face and turn it towards him. Once you were facing him, you felt him caress your cheek with his thumb as he slowly leaned in. Partially scared that you might just pull away from him and embarrass him.

Your heart was palpitating rapidly in your chest, not really sure where this is going. Just when you feel his nose brush against the side of your nose, a familiar voice calls out to you very softly from behind Minho.

“Auntie Y/N? Can I sleep with you?” Your niece asked as Minho pulled away from you just in time for your niece to settle herself in your lap.

“Of course, baby. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You said, turning her around to carry her in your waist while you stood up. Minho stood right after you but before you walked off, you cupped his face with your right hand and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Minho froze seeing you smile up at him only to then carry your niece to your room. That night, he slept with a smile on his face even though it was just a kiss to his cheek.

The next day, it was time to go back home. Since Minho drove there, he and his parents took his car while you followed your family car together with your sister’s family. Both of you never spoke about last night to anyone, not even to each other. The drive back home was filled with sleep and occasional laughter. When you arrived back home after sending your sister to her house, you made your way to your room to unpack and shower since it was already 8pm.

You had just finished showering and entered your room when you saw Minho shuffling around his room shirtless with damp hair falling down his head. Of course he looked handsome as ever but at least now you don’t have to quickly hide yourself from him to avoid him seeing you.

So instead of doing that, you continued doing what you planned on doing and that was to wear your clothes and unpack.

Minho stole a few glances into your room through his window as well but you didn’t seem to look over so he never waited for you anyway. He’s just happy that you’re no longer mad at him. That’s already a great start for him to redeem himself and maybe redo his friendship with you.

Besides, that’s all you both wanted with each other… To finally be friends again and possibly more.

It's been a few days now since the trip, yet neither you nor him have spoken to each other. Today is new years eve and you didn’t really have plans for midnight. Changbin was going to celebrate new years with Felix, Lily has a party to go to that was hosted by her friends in high school while Chan is out on a date with the girl he’s been talking about lately. It’s 2 hours to midnight and you were just lounging in bed, scrolling through your twitter when your mom came to your room with a bright smile on her face.

“Hi darling. You’re not going out with your friends tonight? It’s New Year's eve…” She laughed softly but you shrugged your shoulders as a response.

“Nope. All my friends already have their own plans. And besides, it’s just new year’s.” You said proudly, earning a smile from her.

“Well, in that case, why don’t you get ready. Someone’s here to take you out to see the fireworks.” She said, making you frown.

“Who?”

“Get ready and you’ll know.” She said before kissing your forehead and left the room. With that being said, you quickly changed into a thin sweater, a hoodie over it, ripped jeans and pinned your hair up in a claw clip. You opted to just fill your brows, put on chapstick and wear your contact lens on to avoid wasting time. Once you were sort of presentable, you took your phone and left your bedroom but you definitely weren’t prepared for when you arrived downstairs. There by your couch, was Minho leaning against the back of it with his arms crossed over his chest.

He was chatting with your dad and he looked so fucking handsome as always. Minho was wearing a simple white long sleeve with black and light grey flannel, a hooded leather jacket, skinny black jeans with his hair down completely not styled and yet he still looks good. When you finally reached the base of the stairs, both of them glanced over to you and you felt shy under his gaze.

“H-Hey…” You started and Minho couldn’t help but chuckled softly at your reaction. You dad smiled at you two, telling Minho to drive safe as he gave the boy a hug. You went over to hug your parents and soon left the house with Minho. The minute your front door closes, you spoke up to him in urgency.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to drag me out tonight?” You asked, earning a laugh from him.

“It was meant to be a surprise. I guess I’m just lucky that you’re home tonight.” He said casually.

He soon started the car and drove off into the night. You have completely no idea where he was taking you but after a while, you sort of have a clue since the drive was leading you to the highest point of town where the famous lookout point was. The drive to the location was filled with singing and laughing, not really having a proper conversation. When you arrived at the lookout point, you had about an hour left till midnight. Minho parked his car to the side of the road a few metres next to the railing.

“Do you wanna stay in the car or sit outside?”

“Let’s sit outside. The night sky looks really pretty tonight.” You smiled and he nodded to your suggestion. He locked his car and you both walked over to climb over the railing and sit on it facing the lookout point.

“Wow… I’ve never been here before.” You said as you took your time to admire the view. The starry night sky, the city lights, the wonderful view of the city at this time of night.

“I always come here if I need time alone. It calms me, weirdly enough.” Minho said, earning a nod from you.

“I can totally understand why. It’s beautiful up here.” You said while looking out into the city before you. At that moment, there’s nothing more beautiful to him than the sight of you here with him after years of missing you. Both of you chatted with each other and catched up with a lot of things you missed in one another’s life. When Minho realised it was almost midnight, he got up and told you he wanted to take something from the car. You let him be as you continued to stare into the night sky.

A few minutes later, you realised you had a minute left until midnight. You were just staring blankly at the city lights when Minho’s voice caught your attention.

“Hey, let’s stand. My ass hurts from sitting there too long.” He said, making you laugh. You did as he said only to join him behind the railing. Without any thoughts in mind, you stood facing the lookout point, only to hear everyone else around that area do a countdown. Naturally, you smiled as you hugged yourself.

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

“3.” He said.

“2.” You said.

“1…” You both said at the same time as everyone else yelled into the night, “Happy New Year!” At that exact moment, fireworks were brought to life as they exploded into the night sky in colourful arrays of sparks. You gasped at how pretty they looked, not regretting leaving the comforts of your bed for this. Just then you thought the night couldn’t get any better, a warm hand slips around your waist as you get turned around.

When you finally turned to the side, Minho slid his left hand onto your face and without any words exchanged, he locked lips with you. His heart was beating so fast as his hands shook from both the cold and his nerves. You smiled against his lips as you slid your hands up his chest and wrapped them around his shoulders. Minho was so scared that you would shove him away or slap him for being bold but he never thought you would kiss him back. You allowed him to pull you closer against his front, snaking both arms around your waist to secure his hold on you.

His lips were too addictive, you had to force yourself to pull away to breathe. Keeping your face close to him, you tangled your fingers into his soft hair while you held his face with your other hand and caressed his cheek with your thumb softly. Minho’s heavy breaths mixed with yours as he squeezed your waist a little before he spoke up very quietly despite the loud explosion behind you.

“I’ve missed you so much… I regret letting you slip away due to my ego. But I will never regret loving you from the day we met.” He paused as you stared into his eyes lovingly and you could tell that he was nothing but genuine.

“Y/N… I love you… I will always love you.” Minho whispered against your lips and that was all it takes for you to break into tears. You couldn’t help but bury your face in his shoulder, feeling him hug you tighter while caressing your back. He let you cry into his shoulder, never once letting you go or loosening his hold around you. Eventually, he guided you towards the car until he could sit on the hood with you in between his legs.

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him to wipe your tears on the sleeves of your hoodie. Minho laughed at you but he too helped with wiping your tears away using his thumbs. When you’ve stopped crying, he holds your face in both hands and gently tilts them up to meet his eyes. As soon as you finally locked eyes with him, Minho gave you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen before he kissed you once more.

You melted against him, resting your hands on the nape of his neck as he pulled back to gently say, “I mean what I said just now.”

Minho isn’t the kind to easily convey his feelings let alone show it to anyone. So for him to confess to you right now is a big step he took and he wasn’t going to regret it no matter what your answer is. You wanted him to know how you feel so by pulling him in for another longing kiss, Minho smiled knowing your answer was already pretty obvious.

“I love you too, Minho.” You whispered against his lips, earning a chuckle from him.

“Good because I would dig myself a hole if you didn’t.” He joked, making you giggle. That night, you stayed out with him for a few hours before he sent you home. You ended up cuddling in the back seat of his car, talking about anything and everything you could think of. You came back home feeling so happy and full. Who knew this day would come. You’re just glad you never fully gave up on him.

#stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz lee know #lee know x reader #skz lee minho #skz minho x reader #skz minho fluff #lee know fluff #stray kids lee know

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