#the whole family is insane thank you for your attention
Text
Mom, I am a rich man || Tom Blyth x gf!reader
Summary: Fans have always speculated that Tom was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Tom’s socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 341
A/n: anyone studying law atm? 🙋♀️ ALSO THANK U SM FOR 6K AHHH THATS INSANE!!!
Divider by @pommecita
“I did it!” You slightly furrow your eyebrows at the text message your boyfriend sent you before clicking onto the link that he sent. It was a 2 minute interview that he did while at one of the premieres for his hunger games movie.
Tom looked insanely good in his tailored suit, exuding confidence as he engages with the interviewer. Cameras flashed around him, capturing the glamour of the event, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride for your boyfriend.
The interviewer, a charismatic host with an air of familiarity, turns his attention to Tom, eager to delve into the behind-the-scenes of the blockbuster. “Tom, how was the filming process for ‘The Hunger Games’?” She’s asks, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.
Tom smiles, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “Oh, it was fantastic. The whole cast and crew brought so much energy to the project. But what made it truly special was having my family here. They visited during filming, and even my girlfriend, who took some time off uni to be with me. I greatly appreciated that.”
Your heart swells with warmth at his words. Tom, ever the supportive partner, acknowledges your sacrifice and commitment to being by his side during this whirlwind experience.
Your 2 months in Berlin with Tom was a great opportunity to take a break from all your uni work, and of course, spend some much needed time with your boyfriend. The revelation that he has a girlfriend elicits a gasp from the woman interviewing him.
That video goes viral on the internet. With Tom’s fans searching the internet for anything that could lead them to finding out who Tom’s girlfriend is.
With hard digging, fans discover your insta page. Your posts containing photos of your life as a law student at Yale and fans were pleasantly surprised to find never seen before photos of Tom that you’ve posted.
y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!
y/n_y/l/n
Liked by tomblyth and 2,941 others
this months dump!
view all comments
yourfriendsusername: 😍😍
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!
yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂
user1: omg so this is Tom’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS
user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?
↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE
user4: eh, she’s mid
↘️ user5: studying at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭
user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂
user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Tom Blyth? Damn girl. Teach us ur ways!
user8: THE LAST PICTURE AWEE
user9: the bouquet behind his back- the way she’s looking at him- my single heart cannot 😭✋
user10: studying in Yale is such a flex oml. And studying law too? Imagine being able to say, yeah my mom’s a lawyers. COULD NEVER BE ME. 😃
~
tomblyth
Liked by y/n_y/l/n, rachelzegler, phoebedynevor, tomblythupdates and 8,307,163 others
yeah my girlfriend is cooler than me.
view all comments
y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play brooklyn baby by Lana Del Rey 😁
↘️ tomblyth: volume up Alexa!
rachelzegler: y/n’s side eye 🙈
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 👀👀
↘️ tomblyth: side eyed me the whole damn time
user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!
user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆
user3: what’s a uni student doing dating an actor like Tom Blyth?
user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t 🙏
↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO YOU
↘️ user6: UR SO LUCKY TO CALL TOM UR MAN.
↘️ user7: nah, he’s actually my man.
user8: crying. screaming. throwing up.
user9: it’s happening 😭 Tom finally posting about his gf
#tom blyth#fanfiction#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth x you#tom blyth x gf!reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#uni student#yale#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#coriolanus snow#young president snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#tom blyth fluff#social media#social media au#coriolanus fanfiction#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth the man you are#tom blyth angst
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Left in regret
Authors note: Thank you all so much on the love for this story it truly means a lot to me that you all like it so much. I didn't plan for this to have a part two but I really hope you enjoy nonetheless!
Summary: After telling Azriel and the inner circle how you truly felt about Elain and about your feelings so Azriel the inner circles world comes to a very abrupt halt.
Word count: 2.5k, Part two to never been good enough
Part one Here: Never been good Enough
Part three: Why can't we?
To say that everyone was shocked by your outburst would be an understatement but in all honesty how could they blame you when everything that you said was correct. Looking back on all the time that has passed since the inner circle welcomed the new family members, they could see just how much you were being excluded and it broke their hearts that they were the reason that you were feeling this way but it was no one's fault to blame but their own. Azriel took it the hardest. He knew that he was spending a lot of time with Elain but she made him happy and even though he knew she had a mate he honestly couldn't find it within himself to care about that. If Elain didn’t want to be with her mate then who is he to stop her.
For the first time in a long time Azriel felt happy and it was all thanks to the person you hated most. The guilt he felt was immense but how could he not pursue what made him happy? For all of his life he never thought that he would be good enough for a mate so he accepted that it would never be one of the things he has in life but a stable relationship with Elain could be one of the rare gifts the mother blesses him with. But to break your heart with such revelations broke his own and up until the point of you practically laying your heart out to bare he never knew about your feeling for him and he has never felt like he deserved the title of spy master less then he did in that moment because how could he have never noticed how you felt about him?
Azriel hasn’t seen you since that fateful day on top of the house of wind a week ago no one has been able to reach you not even Rhysand and it was starting to concern him. You simply took off running towards the ledge of the house before throwing yourself off and winnowed away while falling through the air. A stunt has never scared Azriel more, that was until seven whole days have passed with no one being able to find you. Between the three brothers they searched high and low for you but came up empty handed every time. It was becoming very clear that you didn’t want to be found but Azriel needed you to come home, he needed to talk to you about everything. His mind hasn’t been able to quiet down since your confession “I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him” your words plagued his mind at all hours of the day and he knew unless he was able to speak to you it would remain that way until it practically drove him insane for he knew he would spend however long until he was able to see you again replaying every interaction he's ever had with you from top to bottom wondering how he missed the signs. But he knew better than that, you were a trained spy, a very well one at that and if you didn’t want him to know what you were thinking then he simply wouldn't.
More days have dragged on then Azriel was comfortable with you being gone, he wanted you home more than he wanted to be around Elain and that was saying a lot for him.
Most of the inner circle was sitting around the table at the river house when Rhysand walked in looking less than pleased, it immediately caught his attention. That's when he noticed the piece of paper pinched between Rhys fingers “What is that?” His words were the first to break the uncomfortable silence that had been suffocating the group. “Y/n sent a letter.” this was not his brother speaking this was his high lord and something about that set Azriel on edge, whatever he was about to say next was going to break his soul he just knew it. “She addressed it to the inner circle and has asked that it only be read to the inner circle.” Rhysand shied away from Feyre's eyes but he knew that she understood because without any hesitation she stood up from her seat and urged her sisters to do the same but Elain refused. “I’m not leaving. I want to hear what she has to say.” something about hearing Elains demand to know what you said when she is the reason you left set Azriels blood on fire “Leave Elain or I will do it for you.”
Nesta was quick to anger with that statement “Threaten my sister again and I will kill you.” she statement was nothing short of a promise but Feyre was quick to grab her sisters but not quick enough for Azriels sharp words to cut deep into the middle sister's heart “If you had never come here, I wouldn’t have lost my dearest friend because of you. Now I see that y/n was right, you are a wolf in a sheep's clothing and I was too blind to see it right before my very eyes. I want nothing to do with you Elain.” Azriel knew his words cut deep but something inside him couldn’t find it in him to care. Everyone waited until the three sisters closed the door before doing anything else and they waited once more for the sounds of retreating footsteps before Rhysand cleared his throat and began reading your letter.
“In all my years of having the honor of being a member of the inner circle this is not how I envisioned my end. I always thought if anything I would die on the battle field or on a mission and that would be where my story ended amongst the circle but for it to end like this is something I could've never imagined. Rhysand I am so happy that you finally found your mate and honestly Feyre couldn’t be more perfect for you, but I cannot say the same for her sisters. To be frank I could have done without them but no such choice is mine to make. There are a lot of things I want to say but I’m not sure if I will ever be able to say them so for now I will settle with this. First I want to thank you all for being the most loving group of people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Though you may have shown it in your own ways I will forever cherish the memories we made together and for that I am thankful. There is no easy way to put this but I see now that my time amongst the inner circle was limited and it is something I will always hold dear to my heart even with this painful ending. It never bothered me that I was becoming less needed within the group but to be forgotten about while dying in a battlefield changed something in me. For as long as I can remember if one of us was unaccounted for the others would stop at nothing to find whoever was lost but the same urgency was not placed upon me until Tamlin walked in with my dying body. Azriel I heard you ask how as a group you had forgotten about me and it broke me. It became glaringly obvious that I was no longer needed as a member of the inner circle but I didn’t want to believe it so I didn’t. But watching you fall in love with Elain was something I could not do when I knew that I had been in love with you since the moment I met you. I silently loved you from afar while hoping that one day you would realize I was here right in front of you willing to give you my love but all you could see was Elain from the moment you learned about her existence. I will never blame you for loving who you love but to say it doesn’t hurt would be a lie. This letter is getting to be just a giant jumble of my thoughts so let me end with a few things. In three days I will gather my belongings from the house of wind and move from the night court, please do not ask for any other information as I will not tell you any. Now it's time for me to say my goodbyes for I know I will not be able to do so in person. Amren, thank you for being a fountain of knowledge and someone I could go to, to sit in silence and not feel alone while doing so. Mor, your friendship is like no other that I’ve ever known and I cannot thank you enough for showing me such loyalty and encouragement. I'm sure that I will never find another friendship like yours. Cassian, your ability to be strong for not only your family but for yourself is something I hope to learn one day. I have definitely learned to be strong because of you. Please know you are worth so much more than all of the hateful words thrown at you. Rhysand to serve in not only your court but inner circle has been the honor of a lifetime. You have already proven yourself to be an amazing high lord and I have no doubt that you will continue to do so in the future. But most of all thank you for showing me that being myself is ok and allowing me to grow into the person I am. I could not have done it without you. Lastly, Azriel, thank you for showing me what true love is.”
The weight of your words lay heavy on each member's heart. Everything you had said had hit them differently. “She's leaving?” Amren was the first to speak after the never ending silence. While Amren may simply tolerate most people she had a place in her heart just for you. She saw parts of herself in you and wanted to help you in any way she could, albeit was a little unconventional so to hear that you were leaving broke her heart but deep down she understood why. She saw the moment you realized that Azriel was your mate while you watched as he shielded Elain from your wrath, saw the look of heartbreak flash and disappear within your eyes, saw the mourning that replaced it instead. She knew why you were leaving, you would never make him be with you just because of the bond so instead you would act like it never existed if it meant he would be happy without you. “Y/n can’t just leave, she's family.” Morrigan was the next to speak with tears pooling along her eyes “We are a family y/n must know how much we all love and care about her?” but nobody said anything until Cassian spoke up “No y/n is right we acted as if we no longer needed her. Rhysand has Feyre, I have Nesta, Azriel with Elain, Mor you are closer friends with Feyre then y/n and Amren has varian so who does that leave y/n with?” Cassian's question hung in the air unanswered “Exactly. It leaves her alone with no one but herself.” as much as people thought cassian was a brute he was equally if not more observant, he could see that you had been unintentionally outed from the group and to deal with his part of your leaving he got up and left without another word to work out his emotions on the top of the house of wind with a brutal workout. Cassian left everyone else to deal with their emotions on their own.
In the three days leading up to your arrival it seemed as if everything within the inner circle had changed. Azriel avoided Elain, Mor distanced herself from Feyre, Cassian barely trained with Nesta and Rhysand tried to send letter after letter to you asking to sit and speak with him. No response came. It was as if the world had stopped on a dime for the inner circle. The silence was deafening as they waited in the common area of the house of wind while waiting for your arrival. But the silence was even louder when you were set gently on the floor after being released from the arms of an unknown man with wings. No one made a move or even said anything; they simply stared at the stranger in front of them. In that frozen moment Azriel felt something he never thought he would get to experience: the mating bond snapping into place. He felt the string that connected him to you and he could hear nothing else but the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ears. He knew Rhysand said something to you but he couldn’t hear it, maybe he was in shock. Azriel watched you with extreme precision as you moved without saying anything to Rhysand to start down the hallway with the random man in tow. Azriel wanted to ask you who he was, why you thought you had to leave, where you going to go but he found himself unable to speak. It wasn’t until you reappeared in the common room that he was able to say anything.
“We’re mates?” He hadn’t meant it as a question but it definitely came out as one. He watched as a sigh fell from your lips before you spoke “Yes” Azriel had never heard you sound so exhausted, so beatdown while this was supposed to be one of the most exciting times of your life. This is what people begged the mother for, what he had begged the mother for with no hope that he would ever get to experience it. “You’re not excited?” tired eyes bore into his “If the bond had not just snapped would you want me? If you never found out we were mates would you have picked me? Or Elain? I have never been a person of romantic interest to you before today so does a bond even matter?” Azriel knew you had made valid points but hearing you say all the times he hadn’t picked you broke his heart. “The Answer is no Azriel you wouldn’t have so please don’t start choosing me now. I don’t want a relationship out of force from the bond, I want you to choose me because I’m the person you want. So please do not start acting like you want me now when you didn’t want me four days ago.” And with that he watched as you placed yourself in the arms of another man and took off towards the sea. Azriel watched as you left this place behind without another word, left without letting Azriel fight for your mating bond and he has never regretted getting involved with Elain more than he did in that moment.
Taglist: @j-pendragonx , @piceous21 , @harrystylesfan2686 , @kemillyfreitas
#acotar x reader#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel one shot#acotar x you#acotar imagine#azriel angst#Azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger x reader
905 notes
·
View notes
Text
— ✧ isohel
i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine
pairing. hong joshua x reader
description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.
genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff
tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se
fic playlist
w/c. 26.2k
a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!
The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.
It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.
A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.
Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.
After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.
At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.
She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.
It’s easy work, and you love it.
You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.
You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.
“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”
You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.
The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.
Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.
“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”
A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.
Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.
“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.
You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.
Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.
Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.
The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.
“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.
You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.
That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.
You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.
There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.
The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.
It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.
Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—
Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.
It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.
You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.
Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.
You have a lot to get used to.
Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.
School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.
Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.
Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.
Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.
You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.
“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.
“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”
“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”
“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.
“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”
“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”
“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”
“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.
“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.
Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?
Dear Madam,
The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.
Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.
You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.
Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.
Thank you,
Hong Royal Counsel
You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.
Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.
Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.
It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.
Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.
You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.
It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.
All you hear is silence.
It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.
And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.
“What the f—”
Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.
Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.
“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.
Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.
“What are you talking about? Why would—”
“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”
“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.
“Then why is he asking for your name?”
You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.
“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.
“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.
“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”
Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”
“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.
You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.
Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.
Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.
“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”
He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’
So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”
Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”
His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.
“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”
“Well—”
“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”
“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”
Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”
“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.
“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”
“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”
Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”
“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”
Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”
“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”
The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”
The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”
“All of what?”
“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.
“She’ll do it.”
Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.
Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.
As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.
“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.
“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.
“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”
“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.
“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.
“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.
The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.
Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.
The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”
“Did they give you a code?”
“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.
“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”
“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.
“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”
“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”
The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.
The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.
“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.
“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”
“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.
“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.
“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”
Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.
“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”
You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.
The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.
There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.
Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.
Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.
Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”
The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”
“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”
“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.
“Uh, well—”
“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”
“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”
“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”
“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”
“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.
His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.
“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”
He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.
So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.
“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”
You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.
Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.
Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.
You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.
Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.
“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.
“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”
“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”
“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.
Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”
“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.
“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”
Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”
“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?
“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”
“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”
You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”
Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”
“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”
Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”
Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”
You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”
Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.���
“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”
“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”
“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.
It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.
You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.
Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”
“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”
You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.
You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.
“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.
“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?
“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.
“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”
“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”
“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.
“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.
“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”
Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.
“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.
“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”
Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.
“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.
Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”
“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”
“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.
“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.
You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.
After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.
“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.
“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.
“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.
“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”
“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.
“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.
There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.
It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.
77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.
And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.
77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.
On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.
But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.
You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.
By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.
“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.
They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.
As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.
You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.
Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.
You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.
“Um … watering … the plants?”
“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.
“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.
Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”
“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.
“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”
Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”
“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.
Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.
“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.
“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”
“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”
“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.
“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.
“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.
“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”
Oh for fuck’s sake—
“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.
“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?
“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”
“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.
Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.
Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”
Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”
“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”
Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”
You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”
“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”
“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”
Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”
He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.
“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.
“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.
“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”
“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”
Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”
To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—
“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”
“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”
Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”
“But still,” you mumble.
“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”
This man is so weird.
“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”
“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”
“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.
Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”
“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.
“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”
Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”
“What do you mean the wrong idea?”
Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.
You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.
The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.
“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.
“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.
“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”
“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.
“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”
“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.
Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”
“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.
“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”
“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”
You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.
“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.
“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”
“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”
Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”
You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.
“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.
“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.
“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.
“I guess.”
“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”
Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”
“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”
“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”
“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.
“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”
“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.
Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”
“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.
“Right.”
“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”
“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”
“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”
“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”
“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”
“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”
Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”
“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.
Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.
Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”
Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”
“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”
The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.
With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.
“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.
With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.
“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”
He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.
“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”
Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”
“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”
You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”
“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”
“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.
“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”
“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”
“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.
Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.
Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.
Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.
Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.
Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.
Visiting the greenhouse.
There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.
It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.
When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.
Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.
Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.
As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.
“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.
“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”
“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.
You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.
“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”
“And?”
You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.
Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face
“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back.
“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”
“I—yeah, he was right.”
“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.
“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.
“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.
Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”
“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”
Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.
“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.
“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”
“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”
“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”
You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”
“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”
“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.
“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”
Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”
“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”
“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.
“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”
“What is the point again?”
“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.
“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”
“This is a different job though!”
You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”
“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”
Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”
Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”
“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”
“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”
Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”
“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.
“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.
“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.
“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”
“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”
“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”
“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”
“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.
“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”
“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.
“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”
Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”
“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”
“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”
“A paper?”
“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”
“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.
“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”
“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.
You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.
“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”
“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.
“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”
“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.
“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”
“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”
“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”
“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”
“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”
Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.
He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.
It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.
“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.
Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.
“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”
“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”
“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”
Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.
“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”
You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.
“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.
There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.
“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”
“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.
“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.
“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.
“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”
You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.
“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”
“What? No I don’t.”
“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”
“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”
“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.
“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”
Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.
“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.
“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.
“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.
“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”
You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”
“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.
“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.
“Who knows. Not that you would care.”
“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.
Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”
“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”
“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”
You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”
“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”
“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”
You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”
Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.
“Good work.”
Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.
He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.
Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.
You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.
Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.
It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.
Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.
His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.
You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.
Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.
It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.
Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”
“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”
You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”
“And how’s that going?”
“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”
Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”
“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.
“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”
They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”
You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”
“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”
“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”
“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”
“Sounds boring.”
“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”
“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.
“Good to hear. Read this part.”
You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.
“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.
“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.
“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”
‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.
When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”
Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”
“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”
“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”
“Finally! You get it?”
“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”
“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”
Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”
“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”
“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”
You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”
Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”
“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.
Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”
Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.
Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”
“Joshua told me to give it to you.”
That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”
“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”
“You don’t know that!”
Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”
“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”
“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.
You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.
Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.
The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.
Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.
There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.
Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.
You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.
Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …
You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.
Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.
Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.
Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.
You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.
You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.
When you turn a corner, your heart stops.
You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.
It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.
You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.
After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.
Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.
It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.
As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.
You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.
You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.
“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.
Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.
Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.
And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.
The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.
Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.
And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.
Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.
You’re a little lost.
You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.
Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.
“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”
“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”
“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.
“Slow down!”
You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.
“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”
The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.
The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.
“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”
You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”
Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”
“Or talk to you,” you add.
“What—”
“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”
“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.
“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”
Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”
“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”
“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”
“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”
Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.
“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”
“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—���
Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”
“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”
Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”
You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.
You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.
Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”
“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”
You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”
“Was that sarcasm?”
You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”
“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”
You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”
“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”
“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”
“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”
“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”
“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”
“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”
“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”
It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.
“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”
“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”
You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”
“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”
“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”
It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.
You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.
You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.
“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.
“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.
“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.
“W-what?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”
Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.
You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”
“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.
“What are you doing here?”
When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”
“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.
“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”
“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”
“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”
Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”
You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”
“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”
“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.
“Sol Invictus, huh.”
You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”
“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”
“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.
“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.
The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.
“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.
“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”
“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.
He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.
“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.
“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.
“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”
“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”
Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”
You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”
“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”
“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”
“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.
“It’s kind of like—” You.
“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.
“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.
“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.
Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.
“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.
“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.
“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”
“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.
When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.
It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.
The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.
It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.
You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.
Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.
“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.
Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.
“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.
“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”
“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”
“God of Sun.”
“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”
The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”
Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”
“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”
“Of course sir. I understand.”
The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.
“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.
"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”
"Y-yes sir."
"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"
You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?
The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.
“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him
“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.
He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.
“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.
“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”
He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.
“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.
“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.
What unfortunate circumstances, you think.
“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.
“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.
“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”
“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.
“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”
“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.
“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”
Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”
“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”
“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.
His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.
“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.
“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.
“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.
“What are you talking about, I don’t—”
“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”
“Your father —”
“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”
“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”
You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.
“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”
“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.
“It’s my life—why, why not?”
“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”
“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”
“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.
“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”
“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.
“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”
And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.
Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.
Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.
And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.
It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.
Joshua is lost.
After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.
Joshua is lost.
He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.
He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.
Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.
“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.
“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.
“I know. Your father and mother know too.”
Joshua is lost.
Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”
“She left herself.”
“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”
He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.
Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.
That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.
Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.
This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.
Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.
Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.
Seokmin is stunned.
This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.
This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.
Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.
Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.
You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.
You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.
One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.
Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.
Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.
Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.
Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.
Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.
You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.
You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.
Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.
He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.
You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.
The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.
Will you think about him?
Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.
The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.
He knows.
Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.
You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.
You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.
Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.
He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.
“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.
“I’ve just hit a stump.”
“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.
Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”
“Joshua, what’s wrong?”
He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”
His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.
A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.
“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.
“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”
“Joshua, what are you talking about?”
“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”
“You’re my son, Joshua.”
The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.
You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.
You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.
You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.
You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.
Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.
It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”
The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.
You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.
I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.
It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.
When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.
You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.
Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.
And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.
It’s beautiful.
Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.
The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.
And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.
Walk the line.
Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.
“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”
“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.
“I thought you might like them.”
You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”
“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”
You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.
“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.
“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.
This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.
find an alternate ending here!
edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3
a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!
taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)
#joshua hong#seventeen joshua#hong jisoo#hong jisoo xreader#hong jisoo x reader#joshua x you#joshua x reader#seventeen imagines#joshua#joshua hong angst#joshua hong fanfic#joshua hong fluff#hong joshua x reader#hong joshua#hong joshua smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#kpop angst#svt fanfic#svt fluff#svt angst#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen angst#kpop#📝 writing#isohel
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
. THE KAVEH WAY !
synopsis: after being married for quite some time, you and alhaitham decide to expand your family and try for a baby – unfortunately, things don’t work out as you imagine for a bit. after a short chat with kaveh, alhaitham decides to try switching up things a little and try the kaveh way while trying to get you pregnant – letting loose completely and making you feel absolutely loved and cherished.
cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used but only in the beginning; mentions of pregnancy, trying for a baby, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), pet names (god there’s so many; baby, babe, sweetheart, good girl, my queen, honey, princess), slight degradation (he calls you his pretty slut once or twice lol), aftercare
minors, please do not interact. i‘m okay with likes because i don‘t go through those but do not interact with my blog via reblogs or comments.
wc; 2.6k
alhaitham was rolling his eyes when he heard kaveh’s laugh, the blond architect acting to be wiping tears off his cheeks. “so, you’re actually telling me that you were completely relying on logic with this whole thing?”
“yeah, so? what’s so wrong about it?”, alhaitham argued back, it simply just made so much more sense for him to get real with facts and logic about your mutual decision to try for a baby, after being married for quite some time and being absolutely ready and sure about it. “it doesn’t really make sense to try when she isn’t even able to get pregnant, so what’s the problem here?”
“alhaitham, you’re such an idiot, oh god”, kaveh laughed. “so, you guys have only been having regular fucks whenever she was ovulating and didn’t even pay attention on how you were feeling at all? of course things wouldn’t work out like that!”
that made the scribe think – no, neither of you had really considered that your emotions and the intimacy throughout the process of trying. the more kaveh spoke on what to pay attention to, alhaitham was absolutely sure on what to do – well, luckily, you were ovulating anyway. he couldn’t totally let go of relying on logic with this.
he might as well make things up to you for not paying attention to you as much as he should have as your husband. and he might as well try the kaveh way of things to get your mutual dream come true.
–
the moment you were back home, alhaitham pulled you inside the house, close to himself and lifting up your chin as he kissed you. he kissed you, oh, so softly, he hadn’t been this gentle with you in such a long time.
you knew that he had been absolutely busy with the akademiya falling apart so he was insanely stressed out with the sudden workload. so, the whole baby making thing you were both excited about had been a complete disappointment so far – he probably didn’t even realize how much the stress affected his mood and you didn’t really want to talk to him about it either.
he was going to realize it sooner or later and it appeared that just now, he did realize it. “i’m so sorry for neglecting you recently”, he mumbled, burying his face against your neck. “i’ve been a terrible husband, haven’t i?”
“well, i wouldn’t say terrible because either way, i love you, but yeah, the last couple of weeks were somewhat lonely for me”, you replied, voice soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying your best not to sound too sad about the whole situation.
“i love you”, alhaitham said, planting yet another kiss on your lips before he pulled you inside to the kitchen where you were met with an already prepared, candlelit dinner that had you look at him with so much love in your eyes.
“this all looks so great, thank you, my love”, you smiled, sitting down, as you immediately dived in, groaning at how good it all tasted. “this is amazing.”
“of course, love. you deserve all the best.”
–
after dinner, he pulled out some wine as he put on some of the sensual music he got from kaveh (which he only accepted reluctantly, after deciding it was time to pamper you since he didn’t get to do that for so long now).
“going all out tonight, aren’t you?”, you teased, “well, it wouldn’t be fair if i were to let you do everything right?”
you finally returned from the bedroom you had buried yourself in after dinner, wearing one of the sets of dark red lingerie your friends had jokingly gifted you for your wedding. alhaitham gulped at the sight, you were looking so gorgeous in that soft silk, it was so hard for him not to pull you on his lap and rip that fabric off.
you grabbed the glass of wine alhaitham had already poured as you sat on the couch next to him, drinking a sip to calm your nerves – it had been so long since alhaitham truly paid attention to you, which you didn’t blame him for. it just simply affected how easily shy you got around him; something you had gotten over with after a while of being with him.
“you’re so beautiful, baby”, he mumbled, “i missed you so much the last couple of weeks. everything was just so stressful, i’m sorry for not paying attention to you more.”
“it’s alright”, you replied, placing the glass on the table, pulling him on top of you, giggling as you noticed how taken aback he was about that. you had your legs wrapped around his hips, laying down on the couch before you kissed him. you only realized in that moment how much you had missed your gentle and doting husband.
though, the only thing you did not realize was that this piece of lingerie that didn’t really cover anything of your skin and beautiful body was letting out the pussydrunk beast he tried so hard to push away from coming out.
he deepened the kiss, one hand softly lingering over your legs, as the other one was pulling down the fabric to reveal your nipples which he just started to play around with, pinching, sucking, biting on them, having you writhe around. the more he went down on you, he noticed the beautiful scent coming from your body, he assumed a perfume that had an undertone of some sort of aphrodisiac because it made him go so feral out of nowhere, pulling off the panties covered by the short dress.
“you’re so gorgeous, baby”, he mumbled against your thighs, and leaving a soft kiss on your clit. “i can’t wait to pamper you like you deserve, my queen.”
alhaitham didn’t care how messy he was when he was fucking you with his tongue, thumb circling your clit and he was holding your thighs apart with his tight grip, already so pussydrunk with your taste and he was unsure if he would be able to stop.
“feels good, honey? i can tell by your cute noises, baby, oh you sound so good. it’s been so long since i last got to taste you, hasn’t it? i missed the way you taste and the way you pull my hair when you get so needy, baby”, he talked you through your first orgasm of the night, you were shaking and your eyes had gotten all teary.
“alhaitham”, you whimpered out his name, body relaxing as you calmed down. “please.”
“please, what, lovely?”, he questioned, teasing you with a soft giggle. “just kidding, honey. let’s move to our bedroom, shall we?”
he had you thrown over his shoulder, having you laugh as he tickled you and then put you down on the bed, before he laid down on top of you, caressing your cheek. “i keep on repeating this but archons, i’m so in love with you, baby”, he whispered, “i can’t imagine spending my life without you anymore.”
“i love you, too”, you replied, kissing him so passionately when you were turning you both around, sitting down on your husband’s lap as you pulled the silk over your body, all naked on top of him and you couldn’t help the heat rushing up your cheeks as you realized that alhaitham was still in his clothes.
“not fair”, you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, before he sat up to pull the fabric off his body. you leaned down to press soft kisses over his skin, down to his abs, still so mesmerized by how toned his body was despite being a researcher and mostly sitting in his office doing paperwork.
“you know what’s not fair, love? the fact that you try to pamper me when tonight was supposed to be all about you. and since i know you love me being rough”, he interrupted himself as he pushed you back down on the bed, keeping your wrists pinned against the soft mattress, “i will just use you until i fuck a baby into you.”
you rolled your eyes back as he spoke, the thought of you finally getting pregnant after trying for so long had you whine in need; you just wanted him to fill you up over and over until you couldn’t take anything anymore.
alhaitham pulled his pants down and threw them off the bed, grabbing your hips to lift you up and thrust deep inside of you, having you cry out as you pulled him closer to you. “please, fuck me”, you whimpered, the needy gaze you had in your eyes were simply making him go feral on you, rough and hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin had you so weak in the knees.
“archons, you feel so good around me, honey”, he groaned, keeping up his relentless pace as you buried your nails into his back. “go on, babe, leave your marks on my back. go crazy, i don’t mind. i love the sweet pain you make me feel. beg for me to make you come and cream on my cock. beg for me to come deep inside you, to get you pregnant with my baby. you want that so bad don’t you, baby? you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”
“please, i need it so bad. wanna make you- make you a daddy”, you babbled, your brain no longer properly functioning as the attention he gave you and your pleasure was making you feel dizzy, tears rolling down your eyes.
“oh, honey, you will. don’t worry, you definitely will. even if it doesn’t work out this time, i promise you, i won’t give it a break until we make our dream come true”, he calmed you down, slowing down with his thrusts to give you his full attention again. “shh, baby, don’t cry, love.” his voice was so soft and he stopped his movements for a moment, pulling out as he realized you were actually crying and those weren’t tears coming solely from pleasure.
“need me to stop?”, he asked then, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. you shook your head no. “shh, what happened, love?”
“the thought… of not being able to get pregnant and giving you what you want”, you mumbled, “you wouldn’t leave me if i weren’t able to get–”
“hey, hey, no. stop right there, love. there is nothing in this world that could make me love you less, especially just because this didn’t work out. i would never leave you for something as simple as this. i love you too much to do something like that. i’d rather get old with you alone instead of leaving you because i couldn’t get you pregnant.”
he left soft kisses on your face, making you giggle while your sobs stopped and you calmed down again. “archons, that must’ve ruined the mood now”, you mumbled.
“what are you talking about, babe?”, he smirked, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “i recall promising you to pamper you like you deserve, didn’t i? and believe me, i intend to keep that promise.”
–
he was manhandling you like it was no struggle for him at all – lifting your legs to get you into a mating press, your hips up as you were laying on you stomach as he fucked you from behind. alhaitham was not hesitant to let you know who‘s in control in this situation, having you at his complete mercy as he made you gush around him over and over again.
“oh, you feel so good, princess. take it like the good girl you are, sweetheart”, he moaned, “mhm, good job, honey. you‘re doing so amazing for me, taking your husband‘s cock like the good and pretty little slut you are. you’re my good little slut, aren‘t you, baby?” he chuckled as you nodded in agreement, brain totally empty from all sort of thoughts.
“good girl”, he groaned, intertwining your hands as he leaned down to kiss you on your soft, yet somewhat swollen lips from all the kissing sessions you had in your breaks. “oh, archons, i’m so obsessed with kissing you, honey.”
you were pretty much unable to reply at this point – brain totally clouded from how good and exhausted you were feeling.
“look at how much you’re coming for me, honey. look how much of a mess we made here”, he mumbled against your neck, watching how his cum leak out your cunt, before he scooped up some of it with his fingers and pushed them inside of you. you had lost all track of time and you were sure it had been a couple of hours since he had started ravaging you.
“sensitive”, you whimpered out, brain unable to process anything else. it had been a bit since all power had left your body and you were just laying there, taking it like his good girl he loved to praise you as.
“oh, love, did you think i was done? that’s cute”, alhaitham giggled before he thrusted his cock back inside, “i’m not going to stop.”
your eyes widened, the overstimulation had you look at him somewhat in fear of what to expect. you couldn’t remember the last time he had made you shake so intensely, make you come over and over until you were nothing but his good girl, his good little slut, clenching around him so tightly as he had you at his mercy.
“what is it, sweetheart? am i scaring you, baby? good. you’re all mine. you deserve such a good fuck for being such a good girl for me, lovely.” he let our a groan as he - once again - buried his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls white. “come for me, baby, just take it all and come for me.”
the moment you gushed around his cock, crying out his name and sobbing in pleasure, he just watched you unfold, losing all control of yourself as you submitted to the way he made you feel so good.
“you took my cock so good, honey. i’m so proud of you”, he mumbled, pulling out. “and if you this time did not work out, we‘ll try again. it‘s alright, sweetheart. it will happen eventually.”
he placed a hand on your tummy, thumb softly caressing the naked skin. “one day it will work out.”
–
“relax, sweetheart. i know this was a lot to take in, i don‘t really know what came over me tonight”, alhaitham calmed you down as he hugged you tight from behind as you both sank into the bath. “feel good honey?”
you nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed against him, your tense muscles turning into mush as he simply made you feel so giggly and happy. “i have a good feeling about tonight, y‘know? i feel like this time it will have worked out”, you said.
“we‘ll see, honey. and even if not, it‘s perfectly fine”, he whispered, making you shiver at how deep his voice was. it was a reminder of all the promises he made; how they were always kept and came true eventually. and you knew that this one, no matter how long it’ll take, wouldn’t be broken either.
a/n: inspired by jake and amy from b99 trying to get pregnant. i have no idea what came over me with this one. it just happened.
#. flowers for : alhaitham !#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin alhaitham#alhaitham smut#genshin fanfiction#alhaitham fanfiction#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey bby! I wanted to request cedric x slytherin!reader. she is known as an ice princess, very elegant and intelligent but has no friends. she falls for THE cedric but has no hopes to even be with him. how would their story end? it would bring me so much closure 💕 thank you so much in advance
hi sweetie! thanks for requesting 🥹 and i love this story! hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also, sorry for the wait.
melting heart | cedric diggory x f.r
cedric diggory x fem!reader
you were known for being an ice princess. being a slytherin, coming from a rich family, one of the smartest in your class; the whole package. but then you accidentally drank verisaterum, and the person you bumped with… had to be Cedric Diggory, the boy you liked for years.
warnings: language, the twins doing something illegal, emotional reader, little use of yn
reminder: english’s not my first language, so I apologize do any spelling mistakes.
slu7formen’s masterlist | cedric diggory’s masterlist
“Morning, (yln)”
“Malfoy”
Of course, he didn’t say anything as you walked out of the Slytherin common room on your way to have breakfast. but you felt his blue eyed intense stare in your back. Unfortunately, you lived in a world where even Draco Malfoy thought that hanging out with you was… not good, but since his parents knew yours, saying hi to you was the least thing he had to do, mainly because it was his parents request.
You decided to go alone this morning. Well, you were always alone, but when you do have company, it’s your cat; Hara. She looked very pleased with her sleeping position, so bothering her was not an option.
You could say she was your only friend, the only one you had ever since your first year at Hogwarts and now, on your sixth year, everything was the same. Did you hate it? Not at all. You got used to being alone, even though you hated it at first.
Your family has a reputation, therefore, you do too. People say you’re an ice princess, they say that if looks could kill, many students would be dead by now and you’d easily be responsible for it. Despite your very low desire of having friends or even sharing your life with wizards and witches, they said many other things about you too that could have easily be something that describes the sweetest girl in the world.
The way you walk, as smooth as if you could float, small but decided and confident steps. Always smelling fresh, like just showered; whoever sat next to you could sense it so strong that some even said that your perfume is made with amortentia.
Besides, you were also your house Prefect.
Truth was, you were an easy center of attention, even when you didn’t want it. A Slytherin girl who’s family is rumored to be richer than the Malfoy’s, her best friend is her black cat, always wearing the most expensive jewelry, spending as much time in the library as possible to study and also someone who’s extremely intelligent that shows its passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, being at the top of her class? How could you not be someone that people talked about?
You were a whole mystery. But they were too afraid to even try to discover you.
You didn’t know who even started to say that you were not someone good to be with, so you couldn’t understand anything at your first year and cried yourself to sleep every night because no one wanted to be around you. With time, it got better, maybe it’s better to be alone than being sorrunded by bad people, you thought, and it always made you feel better when your stone cold heart was about to melt when you felt too vulnerable.
But no one, definitely no one… makes you feel as vulnerable as Cedric Diggory.
Of course you knew who he was, who didn’t? He was a revolutionary insanely attractive guy that caught every girl’s attention even in his first year. For your first year in Valentine’s day, he received at least twelve letters and a massive box of chocolates gifted by an anonymous girl at your grade, and he didn’t hesitate on sharing it with his friends. On second grade, he gained even more popularity after becoming a part of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and by fifth grade already, many girls were desperate to ask him on a date and fantasize about what being their girlfriend was like.
You couldn’t deny that you were one of those girls… not the girlfriend part, but the one that could easily fall for him if your heart gave the chance.
You liked him in first grade, secretly, but as the months went by, the colder you became, the more you avoided him, and the more you forgot about his existence, just being another person you know that would not be relevant in your life.
At least, not until he bumped into you just when the year started, three months ago.
You were walking with your hands full of books, almost covering your view as you tried to find your way to your dorm again. Hara was next to you, as always, and you secretly wished she was a human the whole time so she could transform back into her original shape and carry some books for you.
That didn’t happen.
What did happen, is that you gasped as your books bumped into someone’s body; for the second time. The first one ran away when she offered to help you and you yelled at her to leave you alone, because you were too angry to even let her help you.
But how could you yell at his face?
“Oh, Merlin” he had said before quickly getting on one knee, and his big hands already started to pick up three books. You just stood there… silent. “I’m so sorry, I was coming around the corner and-…”
Your tired and big sigh interrupted his words. “It’s fine.” your voice said as you got on both of your knees as you fixed a piece of tour hair behind your ear. “It’s the second time today.”
“I’m sorry” he said again, much sadder this time, and you noticed. You thought you maybe were too hard on your words, or your tone, or the way your face was clenched, but why would you care? Weren’t you always like that?
You didn’t answer though, just silently picking up your heavy and boring looking books from the floor.
Cedric had looked up at you twice while picking up the books. He recognized you from the hallways and his classes, but didn’t find the need to introduce himself; he thought you wouldn’t care a bit. Of course, he had to think just the same way as everyone else.
You secretly wished he didn’t, but you also thought that this was going to be the only time that you saw him and actually talked.
“Are you going to your dorm?”
You frowned your eyebrows at him as you lifted your head. His brown were hidden behind some hair that fell on his forehead as his lips were parted, waiting for your answer. You nodded your head, suddenly remembering that you were actually talking to him, not staring at a fucking statue. You slapped yourself internally, feeling stupid.
“Yeah” your answer was short.
“Let me help you then, it’s the least I can do”
God, could he be more perfect?
But your hard ass had to complain.
“No, it’s okay. I know my way”
You heard his laugh when you picked up the last book from the floor.
“I know you do, but I want to help you. They’re too heavy for you”
You sighed loudly again, and with an annoyed expression on your hardly visible face, you said; “Look, I don’t need help, okay? Just-…” you stopped when you looked to your left. Hara was always there, but not this time. “Where’s Hara?” the fear in your voice alerted Cedric’s ears.
“Who’s Hara?”
“My cat!” you almost yelled, letting your books fall again as you quickly got up, already disappearing into the corner in which the brunette guy came from. “Hara?”
He was quick to follow behind you. “It’s a black cat, right?”
“What?” you asked, turning your head as you found him standing next to your body, looking down at you. “No! I’m not letting you help me find my cat”
“Well, too bad” he muttered before walking past you and brushing your shoulder. You scoffed, surprised with wide eyes as you heard how he called your cat’s name and made those same little noises that everyone does when they are trying to find a cat.
He did not fall for your complaining. Why did you like it so much?
“Ugh!” you shouted towards the ceiling while letting your arms rise up and then fall heavily to your sides. “Hara!” you screamed, knowing damn well that that would not make her come to you again, but being the only thing that came out of your mouth.
You could still hear Cedric’s voice as you silently looked for Hara in the cold hallways, books long forgotten, probably getting stepped on by many students.
For what felt like ten minutes, you were already convinced that Cedric was long gone and had stopped looking for your cat. Your thought got you relaxed, but also worried, were you too harsh on him? Too rude? You didn’t want to be rude with him, or with anyone but it was just what came out of you.
Cedric didn’t run away though. No, he stayed, he insisted. He had to be one of the few if not the only person that ever did that to you, at least for the past three years…
“yn!”
And then he called your name.
A single name falling from his rosy and pumped lips, letting it fall like thick and sweet honey that tasted as magnificent as the sweetest chocolate or cherry. You liked how it sounded, coming from him.
You turned your back, and he almost smiled when he noticed what he had in his arms, and the way your eyebrows instantly came back to their original not-worried expression.
Hara seemed a little too comfortable in his arms as she looked around nervously, as if she saw something she shouldn’t, or got scared by something. He stopped in front of you and gave you your pet in your arms, slightly letting his hands brush yours, but quickly letting go. The feeling was too good to be that short.
“Where were you?” you asked staring into her yellow eyes, as if she could answer. “You scared the living hell out of me, sweetie”
“Sweetie?”
Shit, he was still there.
You just gave him a quick look before kissing Hara’s head and placing her down to the ground again, pointing her with your finger to stay there, she meowed.
“Uh… thank you” you said, probably for the first time in months, and quickly feeling your throat go dry. He smiled, proud of himself because of course, he knew you never acted like this, in fact, it was like a totally different person in front of him.
He noticed the way your cheeks went slightly pink when he caught your baby-acting way of talking to Hara, he found it cute.
Cedric didn’t believe many of the things he heard about you over the years, like, you study so much in the library because you secretly read black magic in the forbidden section, or that you were so mean on your third grade that you made three girls cry the first day, when in fact, he knew it was another person. He almost hated the way people decided to treat you one day and never notice your existence again when it came to friendship.
You were popular, but still, one of the most feared persons. Did that make sense?
“Anytime” he replied, and you held your breath when he got closer to you, still looking at you, but quickly getting on his knees again to give your cat some little pats on her head and stomach when she just laid there, asking for more of his —probably— soft and comforting touch.
Traitor. You thought, looking at Hara.
“She’s so cute” you heard him laugh when your cat gave him the purest glassy eyes ever, enjoying his presence while you stood there awkwardly, just wanting to leave. “I think she loves me”
Once again, you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent again, playing with the edges of your robe.
He got up again, still standing too close to you. “You’re still letting me carry those books, right?”
“Huh?”
“Come on, it’s the-…”
“Oh, I know” you interrupted, lifting your palm as your lips clenched in disgust, but way too funny to not make him smile for the last time. “It’s the least you can do” you imitated and exaggerated manly voice.
He walked with you the whole way… and you hated the fact that you let him. If your arms weren’t feeling heavy with books, the ones that Cedric made you grab because they were the lightest, you would’ve crossed your arms over your chest all the way, but since you couldn’t do it, you decided to give him a silent treatment.
He kept eyeing you the whole way, that annoying expression on your face that really made him question to himself if he should even try to talk to you again.
It was not towards him though, but to yourself; how you hated yourself for acting so different all of a sudden, so… small. But this wasn’t your fault, was it? I mean, if he didn’t show up, none of this would’ve have happened, so he was the one to blame, wasn’t he?
Right?
You questioned yourself that same thing over and over again for the following week.
It was like he invaded your mind, everytime you looked at him, you heard him talk in class, or walked past him down the hallway. It was like you were always trying to see him too, it was pathetic.
Fucking pathetic. He only helped you find your cat, for God’s sake, why was that so important to you?
Maybe because no one ever helped you before, or the way he walked so tentatively towards you anytime he walked, or how good he looked with your own cat in his arms… so cute, so handsome.
Sometimes he was there when you tried to sleep too, inside your head. What was happening to you? Why were you desperately trying to keep him out of your mind all of a sudden? Why did you feel your heart skip a beat whenever he talked? Why did you happened to be thinking about his face so much? Why wouldn’t he let you sleep?
Was this what your talked about? She mentioned something about liking boys at a certain age, but every boy you ever knew ran away from you, so, was Cedric this boy now?
You certainly didn’t know what was it about him that caught your attention so suddenly, but stopping was not an option. After all, it made you feel good.
The more days that passed, the more confused you felt, and people started to notice. They saw how you were muy quieter now in class, how you barely raised your hand or how you just seemed… lost. Was something wrong with you? Probably, because you didn’t even eat your breakfast this morning. You just sat there, playing with your scrambled eggs and toasts, not even hungry enough to eat what you served.
There was some mumbling that came from behind you, the Gryffindor table, but didn’t even bother to look back at them, as you always do, so they would either lower their volume, or shut up. Instead, you took the cup in which you had some pumpkin juice, and drank it all.
And then, the mumbling stopped.
The whole Gryffindor group went silent, and that’s when you turned around, almost asking them to speak again… they were all staring at you.
Fred and George were mouth opened and all big eyes looking directly at you, as if something really bad just happened. His friends were whispering into each other’s ears, and you finally spoke.
“What?”
Silence.
“What are you staring at?”
“Um-…” one of the twins spoke first, but you found tell which one was it. Then he lifted his finger, and pointed to the golden cup on your left hand. “Was that your juice?”
You frowned your eyebrows, looked at the cup, and then back at them. “Yes” you replied “Why so interested?”
Silence was dominant again, as the twins exchanged a scared look and then looked back at you again. Your ears were starting to get red, nobody was telling you anything so they were either messing with you, or something bad had happened. You chose to believe the first one… but saying what you were actually thinking was not part of the plan.
“Alright, stupid looking faces, what the fuck is going on?”
The expression on their faces changed, surprised about hearing what you just said… you never insulted anyone. In fact, people thought that you were the kind of person to insult in their mind, but trying to be as cold as ever on the outside, that’s why everyone called you ice hearted or ice princess, you never actually said what you thought… you just tried to be as calm and as cold as always.
But you just insulted a group of teenagers, and that never happened before. No matter how mad you were, you always tried not to insult. People did it to you and it felt horrible, so why do it to someone else?
You gasped lowly while covering your mouth. “Fohmygad” you muttered against your palm. “Oh my God, I’m-… I didn’t want to”
“We know” the other twin had said. “You just drank veritaserum”
And your whole face transformed.
“What… did you just say?” Your voice tone was scary, just like a threat.
“It was not for you!” you recognized the girl that just spoke to you, Angelina. You sat with her a few times in class, but she was quick to run away from you as soon as class finished. “I told you you shouldn’t have done that! All the cups look the same” she hit one of the twins on the side of their head. He whined.
“How was it supposed to know she was going to grab Malfoy’s cup?”
You quickly stood up and placed the cup on the table, right next to, in fact, Malfoy’s breakfast. It was not too far away from you, and you had poured yourself the same drink, but Draco left for a second before you drank the wrong juice.
Fred and George kept talking at the same time towards you, fear in their voices and getting smaller and smaller almost hiding under the table. You ignored them as much as you could so nothing else could come out of your mouth, and with half your face covered, you walked away from the Great Hall.
But of course, not before bumping into another person again.
“Woah” Cedric said as he grabbed your shoulders. He laughed when he noticed it was you “We keep bumping into each other, huh?”
“Don’t talk to me” you bit while shaking your body off of his grabbing, and bit your tongue again as the gigantic door kept getting closer and closer, but it didn’t make you feel any better.
You didn’t look back as you walked as fast as you could towards the bathroom on the fifth floor, the Prefect’s bathroom, after all, you were one. It was a safe place, since no one was ever there at that time in the morning and not everyone could come in. You just wished that Myrtle was not there, she could be a bit annoying sometimes.
After letting your way in, you ran to wash your face with the coldest water that your skin could handle. Your skin was on fire, just like the rest of your body and maybe, just maybe, your brain. You have definitely gained a new enemy.
Verisaterum? Really?
Malfoy could be a pain in the ass but, out of all the potions in the wizarding world, the Weasley twins had to choose the hardest one to make, with no taste, no color, but most importantly, illegal to any use outside the Minister?
Merlin’s fucking beard, you needed a break.
“yn?”
You scoffed when a male voice called your name. “It’s occupied, genius” you answered with your back still turned to where the voice was coming.
The footsteps were coming closer and closer, and you were not in the mood to deal with any Weasley shit, you thought.
“Pretrificus Totalus!” you screamed while turning around, your hand already grabbing your wand and throwing it towards whoever it was the Weasley that followed you.
“Hey!” the male voice, not Weasley, screamed as he hid behind a wall, your spell crushing into the cold surface. “What do you think you’re doing?” Cedric showed himself, confusion on his face as he slowly decided to walk again.
“Cedric.” you called, putting your wand away. It was the first time you called his name. “I thought you were one of the twins”
“I can tell… are you okay?”
Yes.
“No”, you replied. You groaned lowly when the truth came out of your lips. In times like this, you really wished these kind of potions didn’t exist, it was hard to hold back their enchantment. “I just drank the most stupid potion that the Weasley twins could think of to piss off Malfoy”
He placed his hands inside the front pockets of his pants as he laughed. “Verisaterum?”
“How’d you know?”
He clicked his tongue, making his way towards you again. “They joke about it too much” he leaned his back against the sink you were gripping tightly with your hands.
You took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment, analyzing your reflection as you asked, “How long does it last?”
“Depends on how successful it is. It can go away between one hour and six”
“Six hours!?” you yelled to his face, then scoffed while letting an annoyed smile draw on your face. “For the love of….”
“We can always ask Snape for the antidote… but that would mean you tell him about the twins’s action and that was illegal”
You bit your tongue as your feet bobbed up and down, snapping your toes onto the shiny floor again and again as your breathing was a clear sign of how bad you were feeling.
“Forget it. I’ll just wait”
Your knees bended as you sat on the floor, right next to Cedric’s legs, and letting your head fall against the cold pipe under the sink.
“You’ll wait up until six hours before you speak again?” his voice could perfectly fit with another type of quiestion… ‘are you crazy?’ would be the perfect one.
But you just nodded, not even looking at his perfect face. “It’s not like I have someone to talk to, anyways”
Ouch.
Cedric bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you, feeling bad for you and how vulnerable were feeling, but being smart enough to keep that thought to himself.
“Or… you can talk to me”
You clicked your tongue and laughed coldly. “Yeah, right”
“Really” he insisted as you saw his figure squat next to yours, finally dropping his whole weight to the floor, imitating your posture. “By this time you should already know I’m not someone who falls for your complains, right?”
“You’re right” you replied as you played with your fingers nervously. “That’s good”
Shit, shut up already.
“Why?”
“‘Cause I like it… oh my god” you covered your face “I was not supposed to say that”
Cedric laughed again.
“You like my company?”
No, no, no, no.
“Yes” you whined “Please stop asking me questions!”
He let out a louder laugh this time. “Why? It’s fun”
“Yeah, you drink verisaterum and we’ll see if it’s funny, smart boy”
“Sorry”
He stayed silent after that, and so did you. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as you kept wishing that this potion was so poorly made that it only lasted one hour, but the effect didn’t seem to go away any sooner.
You could feel it because that’s just how your mind felt too. Suddenly the thought of not saying the truth to any question was not an option in your mind. Did you even know what a lie was? God, you felt so weak that you hated yourself. Why couldn’t you be like those wizards you read about? The ones that can resist it?
Your whole reputation and personality would’ve stayed intact if you could.
But right now, sitting right next to Cedric Diggory, asking you questions, and with red cheeks… that just ruined the whole image that people thought you had.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he suddenly stammered and it made you jump slightly. He had leaned closer to your ear, as if sitting next to him was not enough to hear him.
“I do” you answered before laughing to yourself “That was the only answer that did not feel forced to come out”
Cedric laughed too, and he took his time before deciding what to ask you, trying to find the correct words to say to not make you mad, or walk away and leave.
“Is it… are you really how people say you are? I mean, I see that you can be as cold as you want but, is that who you are?”
Your eyes made him nervous. After his lips closed, your face just inches away from his, you just stayed there staring at him. You bit your own lip as you kept looking at his grey eyes, trying to find any sign that showed you that he really didn’t care about it, or that the wrinkles on his skin would show up like anytime he laugh, another sign that he was just messing with you, and he really couldn’t care in the slightest about you. But he didn’t move.
So you sighed. “No”
Cedric nodded, more than satisfied with that answer. He was right.
But you had a lot to say, even though he didn’t ask you that much.
“I guess I became what people started to say I was, or what I started to hear about myself. I wasn’t always cold, or I wasn’t always pushing people away from me. Actually, I was the one trying to have lots of friends and be myself with many people but they just… I don’t know, they felt threatened, so… let’s just say I got mad with my own life and decided to not let myself feel vulnerable again, because I don’t deserve it”
Another big gap of silence… and your eyes slowly got filled with tears.
“I’m not who everyone says I am. Ice princess, the hell” you laughed “I mean, sorry I’m not a sweetheart to everyone that gave me nicknames! They expected me to be like this so, here they go”
You sniffed while your nose got red and puffy. Not a single tear was dropped but you still looked so heartbroken that it made the boy next to you almost cry too. You didn’t even complain about the potion this time, because you finally had thrown again that massive rock that just kept hurting your chest over and over again.
“There was only one person that treated me nicely in the last three years”
He frowned his eyebrows. “Who?”
“You”
You had turned your head towards him again, with a small smile on your lips. He knew it was going to be hard for you to thank him, but the shiny look in your eyes was just enough for him to realize. “Really?” he asked.
You nodded, still smiling. “Yes, it’s like a bonus point”
“Bonus point?”
“Because I like you”
Fuck… fuck!
“I-…”
“Wha-…” you both started taking at the same time.
It was like a fucking movie. Both of you frozen in time, staring at each other’s faces as you tried to say the correct words, but nothing came to mind.
Cedric could feel his heart pounding in his ears, while you wanted to crash your head to the nearest wall.
“You…” he started, but didn’t finish, at least not what he initially wanted to say. “Are you for real?”
“No, Diggory, I just fucking lied to your face, can you believe it?… Of course I’m for real, dingus!” you yelled.
Cedric bit his lip as he turned his head to the opposite side, trying to bite back his laugh. “Okay, I get it, it was a dumb question”
But then he laughed. God, his laugh, his perfect little giggle. It made you smile.
“I kinda like you too”
Your neck snapped so hard towards his direction that you thought that maybe, you just died.
Your lips kept opening and closing everytime you tried to say something. For some reason, none of this seemed like a joke to you, almost as if the potion’s effect had affected Cedric too. Something about this felt real, maybe it was because you openly talked about your feeling with him. He knew you weren’t bad, he always knew, he just wanted you to confirm it.
Maybe drinking verisaterum wasn’t as bad as you thought.
Your heart pounded heavily in your chest when he fixed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and the lightest yet burning touch of his fingers against your jawline made your breath hitch once again. He smirked again, as he always does, “You’re really beautiful” he cooed, as his hot breath hit your cheekbone and left behind a sweet feeling that you never wanted to get rid of.
He then got up, as swiftly as a leaf would do, and extended his hand to you.
“What?” you debated.
“Let’s go for a walk. I feel like I have to ask you a few more questions before I decided which place I’m taking you to this weekend”
#cedric diggory#cedric diggory x fem!reader#cedric diggory x female reader#cedric diggory x reader#cedric diggory x y/n#cedric diggory x you#cedric x y/n#cedric#cedric x you#cedric x fem!reader#cedric deserved better#cedric diggory blurb#cedric diggory imagine#cedric x reader#harry potter and the goblet of fire#harry potter
580 notes
·
View notes
Note
Rich to me is always the friends to lovers (everybody sees it but you two) it’s him yelling “behind” at everyone but sliding behind you with a hand on your hip “behind sweetheart” it’s you walking into the group of boys smoking outside & u bypass everyone to grab a smoke straight from his lips “thanks babe” it’s family having no empty chairs at the table so you sit on his lap while Syd & carm just stare. I think you’d bring my wish to life beautifully written. I need all the build up to the smut
can i just say that richie is definitely the type to be a jagoff to everyone, but never to you - everyone else knew how to work his last nerve, but you and your cutesy smile and bright eyes would make him all warm and fuzzy for sure
explicit sexual content ahead
it was no secret to anyone who worked at the restaurant (or had eyes) that you and richie had a ‘special’ kind of relationship. for starters, it wasn’t common for a hotheaded man, like richie jerimovich, to be so touchy and lovey-dovey with anyone. i mean, not even his ex-wife got to see that side of him often, and they shared a child. however there was something about you that just made richie feel as though he needed to be around you, protect you, handle you tenderly.
maybe it was because you were younger than him - fuck if he knew, all richie knew in his heart of hearts was that he had it bad for you.
things between you two started off gradually, “gotta get past you, sweetheart,” the older man rasped, the warm and calloused palm of his hand gently cradling the small of your lower back as he made his way past you, his tall frame easily reaching over you to grab ahold of a pot from the top cabinet.
you’d simply nod wordlessly, keeping your eyes trained forward in an effort to conceal the blush that rose to your cheeks.
after weeks of comfortability that increased between the two of you, you decided you’d test the waters. you’d watched carefully as he made his way out of the back door that led behind the building of the beef. quickly scanning over the not-so-busy environment of the restaurant, you walked away from the cash register, towards the back exit of the beef.
“i’ll be back in ten!” you called out, earning a mumble of approval from carmy and sydney who were entirely too engrossed in a conversation about expanding the menu.
the moment you’d exited the restaurant, the unforgiving cold winter chicago air bit at you, causing you to hiss as you quickly folded your arms tightly over your chest, your fitted ‘the beef’ t-shirt lifting a bit as you turned to find richie leaned against the brick wall.
he was so rugged and laid back, it drove you insane. his hoodie remained open, revealing the matching t-shirt that clung to his slim abdomen, one of his hands shoved in the pocket of his adidas track pants, while the other held a cigarette to his lips. richie didn’t notice your presence yet, too involved in a conversation with sweeps and marcus.
you’d decided it would be the perfect time to push the envelope, walking directly past marcus and sweeps as you approached richie, a flutter now swirling in your stomach as he raised his eyebrows at you, cigarette loosely held between his sharp teeth.
you two held eye contact for a beat, before you gently grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, before raising it to sit sit between the swell of your lips, taking a quick pull from the cigarette, “thanks babe,” you exhaled with a sweet close-mouthed smile.
all richie could do was swallow thickly, nodding to himself before he returned his attention back to the conversation at hand, softly swatting the side of your thigh when he decided that it was time for you to return the cigarette.
it was then, that things started to reach a whole new level of touchiness and couple-like actions between you and richie.
today was family. your second-most favorite day of the week, aside from payday. you were a bit late to the function, courtesy of your hair appointment, walking into the main room of the restaurant, instantly being greeted with a chorus of differing ‘hello’s’.
“hi, m’sorry for being late, my hair girl was late!” you rushed to explain, shrugging off richie’s your zip-up hoodie as you glanced around the room, seeing that all seats were occupied, “oh.”
sydney’s eyes widened as she shared the same realization, “fuck, uh, maybe we can get you an extra seat from the office, i-” she began, taking a bit too long, leaving richie no choice, but to come up with a solution of his own.
“s’nothing syd, she can sit with me,” richie spoke with a careless shrug, his mouth full of pasta as he looked up at you, swallowing his food before continuing, “c’mon, sweetheart.”
you obliged, your lips suddenly running dry as you walked towards richie’s seat, softly grabbing his outstretched hand as he gently guided your hips to sit comfortably against his.
you slightly shifted your hips, sending a shock to your clit as his bulge deliciously sat flush against your ass, “thanks, richie,” you muttered, focusing your gaze on the pasta dish that sat before you.
richie leaned back into his seat, the suddenly awkward silence of the dining room now becoming a bit too apparent to him. shaking his head, richie kept one of his arms loosely hung around you, before clearing his throat.
“yo, i don’t know why the fuck everyone is being fuckin’ quiet,” he huffed, his eyes now landing on carmy and sydney, before he sighed, “cousin, just say what the fuck you’re grateful for already!”
it wasn’t long before everyone returned to their normal conversations, about twenty minutes passing, before richie decided to lean in close to you, bringing his lips to your ear.
“m’ready to get the fuck outta here.”
and that’s how you ended up in the driver’s seat of richie’s car, his seat fully reclined back, one hand gripping the back of your neck, while the other guided your hips to bounce hard against his.
“ah, fuck - y’gonna make me cum in you if you keep fuckin’ me like that, sweetheart,” richie groaned, moving the hand that guided your hips to your back, pushing you further into his chest as he fucked up into you.
your face was in his neck, throaty moans and gasps leaving your lips as you sloppily kissed and sucked at the skin of his neck, the sound of your hips slapping into each other mixed with the squelch and slurp of your wet pussy taking his length leaving you a needy mess.
you were so close to reaching your peak, your pulsing hole clenching around richie’s dick as his thrust remained forceful and rough, “i can fuckin’ feel you around me, baby, y’want me to make you cum, yeah,” he chuckled, leaning his head against the headrest as he brought his hand to your hip, grinding your hips flush against his in circular motions.
“fuck, richie,” was all you could mewl through your gritted teeth, your stomach tight as your clit rubbed against the wet skin of his pelvis.
“keep ridin’ me, sweetheart,” he whispered, pecking your flexed temple as he forced your hips deeps against his, “just keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.”
yeah, your relationship with your coworker was far from orthodox, but neither of you seemed to get enough of it. nor, did you want to.
#dadbodfanatic-x#asks#richie jerimovich x reader#richie jerimovich fanfic#richie jerimovich imagine#richie jerimovich smut
331 notes
·
View notes
Note
could you please write ANYTHING for steven! no one writes for him and i love your writing!
would love a friends to lovers story but im working with crumbs so anything will do
you are in love - s.c
summary: request
steven conklin x reader
a/n: he looks so cute in this gif i’m crying 🩷 i hope you enjoy this, one of my fav tropes :))
the years had passed by so fast, each one leaving lost confessions in the dust. y/n would always regret it, but then new years came around and she promised herself she would say something. then year one passed, and year two.
she didn’t say anything to steven. she only gave small hints and signs, but he never really saw any of them. little did y/n know was that he was doing the same, sending her little messages with his mind and he broke every time she didn’t notice. it was pure oblivion, neither of them seeing the pure love they had for each other.
they lived as friends for too long. the runs on the beach, the bakery trips, the boardwalk dates were still friendly engagements. it was the complete opposite of what they wanted.
y/n had no idea how steven was missing it, even being valedictorian. he was the first to stand up at her sport games, or any of her activities that she did good at. he’d always have the most loving beam on his face when she showed him a good grade she got on a test. and she was the first one on her feet at his graduation.
she helped him practice his speech all the time, over the phone and even some long weekends in person. y/n was always there for steven, through the good times and the bad. when he achieved his goal, or when he lost susannah. she held him while he cried, listened to every agonizing word that left his mouth. he has no clue how to thank her for any of that, as she was the only consistent support system in his life, the constant source of love that he could never be derived of.
she drove hours to his school, sitting right in the audience with his family as he walked up to the podium. each word of his speech left with such grace, being delivered with his class in a mature way. the moment the last word in the paper left his mouth, she was on her feet, clapping her hands together and getting his attention first. his eyes wandered to her, the most alluring smile illuminating the room he was in. he was surrounded by classmates and their families, but suddenly, he and y/n became the only people there. he stepped down, accepting his diploma and making his way out after the graduation ceremony.
y/n pushed through the crowd of people in their blue gowns and caps, trying to find the only one who mattered to her. as she twisted and turned around the people, seeing no one that was remotely close to steven. he noticed her from far away, pulling away from an embrace with his mother and sister, seeing y/n trying to shuffle through the crowds.
his feet started moving toward her before he could even think straight. he just saw her gorgeous face, the one he just wants to love out of the silence. she finally landed her eyes on him, seeing the diploma being handed off to laurel. she started stepping quicker toward him, but it still felt like slow motion.
her heels clicked on the ground outside, trying to contain the wide smile she had on her lips. she was preparing to be there for steven after his graduation, but only as a friend. she so badly wanted more, but she pushed through their friendship with what seemed like ease.
when they finally reached, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her legs off the ground and her knees bent. y/n wrapped her arms around him, softly squealing in his ear about how proud she was, and that his speech was perfect. she started to blabber on about how amazing he is, moments away from spilling her whole heart out on the floor.
he giggles at her words flying out of her mouth at an insane speed, placing his hands on her shoulder and stealing her from her own mind.
“steven, you don’t even understand how good that was!” she rants in the most adorable way. “i don’t know how else to say how proud of you i am!”
“y/n, listen,” he grins, lifting her chin up to look at him, who stands tall over her.
“i’m sorry! i just needed you to know how amazing you are.”
he can only manage to smile back, tilting his head a bit at her. “can i talk now?” he asks, jokingly, as she quiets down to let him talk.
“i just wanted to say, that i’m leaving the stupid steven in high school,” he begins, leaving y/n’s brows and nose to scrunch up.
“huh?”
he places his two fingers back on the tip of her chin, lifting it closer to his face and planting his lips on hers. it felt so natural, as if they could’ve been doing it for years. y/n simply let it happen, the moment she’d been praying for finally happening.
his soft, warm lips touched against her own, the faint taste of mint gum on lips and the strength of his cologne. a weight was lifted off stevens shoulders as he deepened the kiss, the same load being swiped off y/n’s.
when they finally fell back down to earth, y/n smiled against stevens lips, the sweet grin only making him further infatuated with her.
“you’re the only one i want, y/n,” he says. “i can’t hide it anymore.”
“don’t ever hide it again,” y/n replies, reaching up on her toes to peck his lips again. the firework had finally been ignited, and burst beautifully in the brightest colors in the sky.
#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty s2#the summer i turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty fic#tsitp fic#tsitp steven#steven conklin#steven conklin fic#steven conklin x y/n#steven conklin x reader#steven conklin x you#taylor jewel#belly conklin#team cam cameron#team conrad#team jeremiah#team steven#team belly#conrad fisher#jeremiah fisher#laurel conklin#susannah fisher#we’ll always have summer#it’s not summer without you
497 notes
·
View notes
Text
¡! the kaveh way | alhaitham
synopsis: after being married for quite some time, you and alhaitham decide to expand your new little family and try for a baby – unfortunately, things don’t work out as you imagine for a bit. after a short chat with kaveh, alhaitham decides to try switching up things a little and try the kaveh way while trying to get you pregnant – letting loose completely for once and making you feel absolutely loved and cherished. and of course, completely drunk on ecstasy from all the mind-numbing pleasure he was intending to make you feel.
cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used but only once; mentions of pregnancy, trying for a baby, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), pet names (god there’s so many; baby, babe, sweetheart, good girl, my queen, honey, princess), slight degradation (he calls you his pretty slut once or twice lol)
this is a repost from my previous blog yaesnovels.
alhaitham was rolling his eyes when he heard kaveh’s laugh, the blond architect pretending to wipe tears off his cheeks in exaggeration. “so, you’re actually telling me that you were completely relying on logic with this whole thing?”
“yeah, so? what’s so wrong about it?”, alhaitham argued back, it simply just made so much more sense for him to get real with facts and logic about your mutual decision to try for a baby, after being married for quite some time and being absolutely ready and sure about it. “it doesn’t really make sense to try when she isn’t even able to get pregnant, so what’s the problem here?”
“alhaitham, you’re such an idiot, oh god”, kaveh laughed. “so, you guys have only been having regular fucks whenever she was ovulating and didn’t even pay attention on how you were feeling at all? of course things wouldn’t work out like that!”
that made the scribe think – no, neither of you had really considered that your emotions and the intimacy throughout the process of trying. the more kaveh spoke on what to pay attention to, speaking from a more emotional perspective, alhaitham was absolutely sure on what to do – well, luckily, you were ovulating anyway. he couldn’t totally let go of relying on logic, after all.
he might as well make things up to you for not paying attention to you as much as he should have as your husband. and he might as well try the kaveh way of things to get your mutual dream come true.
–
the moment you were back home, alhaitham pulled you inside the house, close to himself and lifting up your chin as he kissed you. he kissed you, oh, so softly; he hadn’t been this gentle with you in such a long time.
you knew that he had been busy with the akademiya falling apart so he was insanely stressed out with the sudden new workload. so, the whole baby making thing you were both excited about had been a complete disappointment so far – he probably didn’t even realize how much the stress affected his mood and you didn’t really want to talk to him about it either.
he was going to realize it sooner or later and it appeared that just now, he did realize it. “i’m so sorry for neglecting you recently”, he mumbled, burying his face against your neck. “i’ve been a terrible husband, haven’t i?”
“well, i wouldn’t say terrible because either way, i love you, but yeah, the last couple of weeks were somewhat lonely for me”, you replied, voice soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying your best not to sound too sad about the whole situation.
“i love you”, alhaitham said, planting yet another kiss on your lips before he pulled you inside to the kitchen where you were met with an already prepared, candlelit dinner that had you look at him with so much love in your eyes. he couldn‘t even remember the last time you had looked at him this way. it had been far too long.
“this all looks so great, thank you, my love”, you smiled, sitting down, as you immediately dived in, groaning at how good it all tasted. “this is amazing.”
“of course, love. you deserve all the best.”
–
after dinner, he pulled out some wine as he put on some of the sensual music he got from kaveh (which he only accepted reluctantly, after deciding it was time to pamper you since he didn’t get to do that for so long now). “going all out tonight, aren’t you?”, you teased, “well, it wouldn’t be fair if i were to let you do everything right?”
you finally returned from the bedroom you had buried yourself in after dinner, wearing one of the sets of dark red lingerie your friends had jokingly gifted you for your wedding. alhaitham gulped at the sight, you were looking so gorgeous in that soft silk, it was so hard for him not to pull you on his lap and rip that unnecessary fabric off.
you grabbed the glass of wine alhaitham had already poured as you sat on the couch next to him, drinking a sip to calm your nerves – it had been so long since alhaitham truly paid attention to you, which you didn’t blame him for. it just simply affected how easily shy you got around him; something you had gotten over with after a while of being with him.
“you’re so beautiful, baby”, he mumbled, “i missed you so much the last couple of weeks. everything was just so stressful, i’m sorry for not paying attention to you more.”
“it’s alright”, you replied, placing the glass on the table, pulling him on top of you, giggling as you noticed how taken aback he was about that. you had your legs wrapped around his hips, laying down on the couch before you kissed him. you only realized in that moment how much you had missed your gentle and doting husband.
though, the only thing you did not realize was that this piece of lingerie – which didn’t really cover anything of your skin and beautiful body – was the reason for the pussydrunk beast he tried so hard to push away from coming out.
he deepened the kiss, one hand softly lingering over your legs, as the other one was pulling down the fabric to reveal your nipples which he just started to play around with, pinching, sucking, biting on them, having you writhe around. the more he went down on you, he noticed the beautiful scent coming from your body — he assumed a perfume that had an undertone of some sort of aphrodisiac because it made him go so feral out of nowhere — as he was pulling off the panties covered by the short dress.
“you’re so gorgeous, baby”, he mumbled against your thighs, and leaving a soft kiss on your clit. “i can’t wait to pamper you like you deserve, my queen.”
alhaitham didn’t care how messy he was when he was fucking you with his tongue, thumb circling your clit and he was holding your thighs apart with his tight grip, already so pussydrunk with your taste and he was unsure if he would be able to stop.
“feels good, honey? i can tell by your cute noises, baby, oh you sound so good. it’s been so long since i last got to taste you, hasn’t it? i missed the way you taste and the way you pull my hair when you get so needy, baby”, he talked you through your first orgasm of the night, you were shaking and your eyes had gotten all teary.
“alhaitham”, you whimpered out his name, body relaxing as you calmed down. “please.”
“please, what, lovely?”, he questioned, teasing you with a soft giggle. “just kidding, honey. let’s move to our bedroom, shall we?”
he had you thrown over his shoulder, having you laugh as he tickled you and then put you down on the bed, before he laid down on top of you, caressing your cheek. “i keep on repeating this but archons, i’m so in love with you, baby”, he whispered, “i can’t imagine spending my life without you anymore.”
“i love you, too”, you replied, kissing him so passionately when you were turning you both around, sitting down on your husband’s lap as you pulled the silk over your body, all naked on top of him and you couldn’t help the heat rushing up your cheeks as you realized that alhaitham was still in his clothes.
“not fair”, you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, before he sat up to pull the fabric off his body. you leaned down to press soft kisses over his skin, down to his abs, still so mesmerized by how toned his body was despite being a researcher and mostly sitting in his office doing paperwork.
“you know what’s not fair, love? the fact that you try to be on top of me when tonight was supposed to be all about you. and since i know you love me being rough”, he interrupted himself as he pushed you back down on the bed, keeping your wrists pinned against the soft mattress, hips pressing against yours as he kept you on your spot, “i will just use you until i fuck a baby into you.”
you rolled your eyes back as he spoke, the thought of you finally getting pregnant after trying for so long had you whine in need; you just wanted him to fill you up over and over until you couldn’t take anything in anymore.
alhaitham pulled his pants down and threw them off the bed, grabbing your hips to lift you up and thrust deep inside of you, having you cry out as you pulled him closer to you. “please, fuck me”, you whimpered, the needy gaze you had in your eyes were simply making him go feral on you, rough and hard thrusts almost immediately, the sound of skin slapping against skin had you so weak in the knees.
“archons, you feel so good around me, honey”, he groaned, keeping up his relentless pace as you buried your nails into his back. “go on, babe, leave your marks on my back. go crazy, i don’t mind. i love the sweet pain you make me feel. beg for me to make you come and cream on my cock. beg for me to come deep inside you, to get you pregnant with my baby. you want that so bad don’t you, baby? you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”
“please, i need it so bad. wanna make you- make you a daddy”, you babbled, your brain no longer properly functioning as the attention he gave you and your pleasure was making you feel dizzy, tears rolling down your eyes and it was obvious that those tears were not primarily from the stimulation he put your body through. they were mainly tears of genuine disappointment coming from the failure from the constant negative pregnancy tests.
“oh, honey, you will. don’t worry, you definitely will. even if it doesn’t work out this time, i promise you, i won’t give it a break until we make our dream come true”, he calmed you down, slowing down with his thrusts to give you his full attention again. “shh, baby, don’t cry, love.” his voice was so soft and he stopped his movements for a moment, pulling out as he finally realized you were actually crying and those weren’t tears coming solely from pleasure.
“need me to stop?”, he asked then, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. you shook your head no. “shh, what happened, love?”
“the thought… of not being able to get pregnant and giving you what you want”, you mumbled, “you wouldn’t leave me if i weren’t able to get–”
“hey, hey, no. stop right there, love. there is nothing in this world that could make me love you less, especially just because this didn’t work out. i would never leave you for something as simple as this; for something we both couldn‘t have any control in. i love you too much to do something like that. i’d rather get old with you alone instead of leaving you because i couldn’t get you pregnant.”
he left soft kisses on your face, making you giggle while your sobs stopped and you calmed down again. “archons, that must’ve ruined the mood now”, you mumbled.
“what are you talking about, babe?”, he smirked, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “i recall promising you to pamper you like you deserve, didn’t i? and believe me, i intend to keep that promise.”
–
he was manhandling you like it was no struggle for him at all – lifting your legs to get you into a mating press, your hips up as you were laying on you stomach as he fucked you from behind. alhaitham was not hesitant to make sure you knew who‘s in control, having you at his complete mercy as he made you gush around him over and over again.
“oh, you feel so good, princess. take it like the good girl you are, sweetheart”, he groaned, “mhm, good job, honey. you‘re doing so amazing for me, taking your husband‘s cock like the good and pretty little slut you are. you’re my good little slut, aren‘t you, baby?”
he chuckled as you nodded in agreement, brain totally empty from all sort of thoughts, eyes glassy and full of tears from the overstimulation.
“that’s a good girl”, he groaned, intertwining your hands as he leaned down to kiss you on your soft, yet somewhat swollen lips from all the kissing sessions you had in your breaks. “oh, archons, i’m so obsessed with kissing you, honey.”
you were pretty much unable to reply at this point – brain totally clouded and blurry from how good and exhausted you were feeling.
“look at how much you’re coming for me, honey. look how much of a mess we made here”, he mumbled against your neck, watching how his cum leak out your cunt, before he scooped up some of it with his fingers and pushed them inside of you. you had lost all track of time and you were sure it had been a couple of hours since he had started ravaging you.
“sensitive”, you whimpered out, brain unable to process anything else. it had been a bit since all power had left your body and you were just laying there, taking it like his good girl he loved to praise you as.
“oh, love, did you think i was done? that’s cute”, alhaitham giggled before he thrusted his cock back inside, “i’m not going to stop.”
your eyes widened, the realization of what was to be expected of your insatiable husband had you look at him somewhat in fear. you couldn’t remember the last time he had made you shake so intensely, make you come over and over until you were nothing but his good girl, his good little slut, clenching around him so tightly as he had you underneath himself at his mercy.
“what is it, sweetheart? am i scaring you, baby? good. you’re all mine. you deserve such a good fuck for being such a good girl for me, lovely. you deserve everything i could possibly give you just for wanting to create a new life with me.” he let out a groan as he – once again – buried his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls white. “come for me, baby, just take it all and come for me.”
the moment you gushed around his cock, crying out his name and sobbing in pleasure, he just watched you unfold, losing all control of yourself as you submitted to the way he made you feel so good.
“you took my cock so good, honey. i’m so proud of you”, he mumbled, pulling out. “and if this time did not work out, we‘ll try again. it‘s alright, sweetheart. it will happen eventually.”
he placed a hand on your tummy, thumb softly caressing the naked skin. “one day it will work out.”
–
“relax, sweetheart. i know this was a lot to take in, i don‘t really know what came over me tonight”, alhaitham calmed you down. he hugged you tightly from behind as you both sank into the bath. “feel good honey?”
you nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed against him, your tense muscles turning into mush as he simply made you feel so giggly and happy as he playfully started tracing random shapes over your tummy. “i have a good feeling about tonight, y‘know? i feel like this time it will have worked out”, you said.
“we‘ll see, honey. and even if not, it‘s perfectly fine”, he whispered, making you shiver at how deep his voice was. it was a reminder of all the promises he made; how they were always kept and came true eventually. and you knew that this one, no matter how long it’ll take, wouldn’t be broken either.
#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟalhaitham#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin alhaitham#alhaitham smut#genshin fanfiction#alhaitham fanfiction#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x reader#genshin x you#genshin x reader
849 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Wasted Love {Part II}
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warning: Language, High Angst
Words: 6.3k
Summary: Nope.
Note: Posted the first part of this months back and finally getting around to part 2. I hope you like it. Look out for the final part.
As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!
As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️
***NOT Edited/Proofread***
Previous: Wasted Time |
-Lewis-
"For fuck's sake!”
He threw the controller across the room. When it collided with the floor it shattered sending pieces everywhere.
"Woah. Woah! What the hell?!”
Andrew, Miles, and Daniel all looked at him with varying expressions of confusion, shock, and concern.
"Yo, what the fuck is your problem? It’s just an L in MK," Andrew said.
He sighed then rubbed his face, pressing a little harder than necessary.
"Like we can go again, and I'll let you win if it's that serious," Miles said.
He sighed again, his head miles, leaps, and bounds away from the video game, the living room, or his friends. His mind was still in that penthouse suite with you standing in front of him as you argued going back and forth both pushing and neither relenting even a little. His head was still there picking apart every word, every expression, every shuddered breath, every pupil dilation.
"Yo, Lewis," Daniel called bringing his attention back to them.
"Nah, this can't be about the game. Even you're not that petty," Miles said putting his controller down. "What's up?"
He rolled his head around cracking each joint in his neck and shoulders. He hadn't realized until now how wound up he'd been over the last 2 and a half weeks. He also hadn’t realized how steadily his anger and frustrations were climbing too. What was him being in disbelief for the first few days after the confrontation turned into anger then annoyance. Right now he was festering and stewing in all three.
He couldn’t believe that after everything you'd been through, everything you'd shared, the lengthy conversations, the trips to and from each of your homes, the late-night phone and video calls that lasted for hours and hours, the dates, the trips, the interactions with his family and him yours, all of it, you were here.
While he had thought you were building and strengthening and growing toward each other despite his insane schedule and lack of free time, that wasn't the case at all. If you had then there was no way you could have said the shit you did or believed he would do some shit like that.
"Dude," Andrew began.
"It's nothing," he lied.
"Bullshit. It's not racing that's been going good, it's not the other hustles either. What, is it Y/N?"
His entire body tensed at the mention of your name. That was different. Before, your name brought him peace, a smile and so much more.
"Bingo. What is it? Haven't seen her in a few weeks, she too busy for your ass and you salty for it?"
He was used to Daniel’s teasing, and usually, he would laugh it up and allow them to bust his chops, but right now Daniel was rubbing on a sensitive topic. Before he realized it he'd kissed his teeth. That action made all three of them perk up.
"What's wrong?"
"We're done," he blurted out as if the words were acrid acid on his tongue.
They were quiet for a few moments, then Miles broke it. "Done? Fuck outta here. You're lying."
"I'm for real,” he replied with a touch of exasperation in his voice.
"What? What happened?"
He sighed again then told them the whole story not leaving out anything. He wanted to hear their thoughts mainly because he felt they would take his side. As he went through the whole thing again he had to admit to himself that there were some things he shouldn't have said, things that he recognized fueled your ruthlessness, things he now regretted.
When he'd said his piece he waited for them to tune in, however, a good minute passed before any of them said a word. They just exchanged looks as if speaking nonverbally and trying to come to a consensus.
"She fucked up right."
Daniel made a face. "IIIIIIII mean," he stretched out in that high-pitched tone that said even more.
"Hold on,” Andrew interrupted, “Has something changed? I thought you were all about her these last months. I thought since she finally gave you the time you were being real.”
“I was—am—was. Shit.”
“You slipped up?”
“No! It was nothing, it was work.”
They all gave him the look as if he was full of shit. Kissing his teeth again he rolled his eyes. “I’m telling the truth. It was work, nothing more. Hell I even told them that when they tried to tag team off each other to spit game. I told them I was seeing someone, and it was getting serious, and I wasn’t bout that life anymore.”
“That’s what I thought,” Miles said.
“I didn’t even know she was there. She showed me some fucked picture and she ran with that shit.”
“What picture?”
He opened his messages, found the picture then showed it to them. You’d sent it to him a few hours after you’d left when he texted you that, “You were fucking things up”, your reply was the picture and a simple reply, “Naw bruh you did that shit all on your own. Own it!” It was the last message you’d sent him. It was now almost 3 weeks later, and you were still radio silent.
“Woah, yeah. That looks bad,” Andrew spat out.
Daniel took his phone and studied the picture closer. “Is she kissing your neck?”
“No.”
Miles now snatched the phone and studied it. “And her hand--.”
“No. Nothing happened. The wild shit is this was a backroom photoshoot for the brand. We were posing for the designer for their social marketing.”
“Does she know that?”
“I don’t know. I shit you not, she blew in like a hurricane and within 10 minutes she was gone. She didn’t let me explain. Nothing. Someone sent her that picture.”
“Someone wanted to start shit and she took the bait.”
“9 months. 9 fucking months I’ve been bending backward trying to erase my past for her. 9 months I’ve been putting in wild effort to show her, prove to her I’m not the same dude I used to be, 9 months I’ve been going hard trying to show her what she meant to me and that I’m not fucking around when it comes to her, but 10 minutes and it all blew the fuck up. Now I’m angry, what the fuck was I doing this whole time? Why?”
They didn’t bother replying because there was nothing else to say. They knew everything he was saying was true. He’d cut out all the extra shit months ago because he wanted to get closer to you. He’d decided to be the committing type and he was happy to do it, happy to show you he was more than his reputation. He’d turned on plenty of trips, parties, and things of the kind with his boys because it would have backfired. He’d worked hard to earn your trust but in truth, he hadn’t earned anything. You still saw him as he used to be. And that was the hard pill for him to swallow.
~~~~~~~
-1 Week Later-
“Uncle Lewis let’s go in the pool.”
Snapping out of it, he smiled at his niece then nodded. “Of course princess, let’s go.”
He walked to the edge of the pool and stood beside her. As they prepared his nephew approached and began doing the same thing. As they counted down from three he jumped at 2.
“Aw, Uncle Lewis you cheated!”
He shrugged and watched them leap into the water creating massive miniature splashes of the one he’d just created. When they emerged they came after him trying to attack him like little baby sharks. Each of their attempts was blocked and turned around on them. When one failed he grabbed the other and tossed them across the pool then did the same for the other. Soon there was almost just as much water outside the pool as there was inside.
By the time he got out of the pool the sun was setting and he was exhausted. Dropping himself into one of the lounge chairs, he sighed and allowed himself to relax. However, relaxation wasn’t in the cards for him. Though the activity from before worked to distract him from his heavy thoughts, now with the absence of said activity it all came flooding back. With an exasperated grunt, he grabbed his phone off of the side table and then went to his socials.
As he aimlessly scrolled through the posts he liked a few and kept swiping. Some of the posts he registered others he didn’t. Within a few short minutes, he somehow found himself on yours. He didn’t even notice until he was staring at one of your recent posts, a picture of yourself staring deeply into the camera. It looked like something shot for a brand or a photoshoot rather than a natural selfie.
For several moments all he thought of was how fucking gorgeous you were. The saying ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul’ rang true for you because every time he gazed into them he was always pulled into their depths to drown in their beauty. Fuck, he missed you he thought to himself. On the 4th post he’d landed on he sighed seeing you laughing uncontrollably with your best friend. You looked like you hadn’t a care in the world; like you were blissfully happy. The thought hit him then that you looked like you didn’t miss him one bit.
Acknowledging that made his heart thud painfully then his annoyance was back. It was just like you to leave him to fall apart while you escaped with carefreeness. He’d always suspected that he felt more for you than you felt for him. He guessed that this was his proof. He tapped the tag in the photo of your best friend and found even more videos and pictures of you. The backdrop said you were either on an island or some European seaside town and you were enjoying yourself. He pressed his finger to the screen, freezing the video on your smiling face. Drinking wasn’t really his thing, but fuck did he want a drink or three right now.
“You’re messing yourself up.”
Snapping his head up, he found his mother sitting beside him.
“Mum.”
“Not only are you messing yourself up with everything you’re keeping in but you’re trying to use everything you possibly can as an escape, case in point this last-minute trip,” she finished.
“Mum, it’s not like--.”
“And according to Miles and Daniel, you’re spiraling inside, and it’s not a little.”
“I’m fine, mum, I promise,” he half lied placing his phone on the side table face up.
“You’re not. How could you be fine? The first woman you’ve allowed yourself to fall in love with in years has done a flip and turn because of your actions.”
His brow rose, “What?”
“Acceptance of one’s actions is important, Lewis. I have always taught you that.”
“Naw. Nope, I didn’t do this. I didn’t make this happen. She is a distrustful person.” He sat up straighter then, “I worked my butt off to show her she could trust me, to show her that I wanted her and only her.”
His mother shook her head about that. “If you’re still doing the things you know are triggers for her, how are you proving anything?”
He looked at her incredulously. He knew she liked you a lot and had grown closer to you over the past months, but he didn’t know when she’d completely jumped on your ship while abandoning his.
“Mum, I can’t control half the things she thinks,” he pleaded.
“The pictures Lewis. The pictures and your choice of words.”
He sighed then because he knew that she’d talked to you already. He was tempted to ask his mother for the play-by-play, but he decided against it knowing she probably wouldn’t go for it.
“It was innocent. It was work.”
“Did you tell her that? You know someone sent her those pictures? Someone wanted to start problems and it was too easy because you helped them along.”
“I tried to tell her, but she basically called me a liar. She looked me in my eyes and decided not to believe me. Plus it’s a lot more than she ever afforded me. She’s photographed with a lot of guys all the time; some work, some not, she doesn’t explain any of it to me, yet I trust her enough to believe it’s not something wild or disrespectful. Yet when it comes to me, I’m automatically the knob.”
“Lewis,” she warned.
He raised his hand, sighed out then leaned back in the chair.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”
They sat in silence for a few moments before he continued. “She treats me like an option mum--a bloody option. This whole year, the 9 we’ve been together and the 3 it took to claim her, I’ve treated her like my only choice.”
The truth to those words was a truth he’d buried deep. His mother reached over and took his hand.
“Sweetie,” she began.
He knew what was coming, knew she was either going to defend you or try to soothe the pain he felt. He didn’t want either.
“She acts like I never said the words.”
Another truth he’d buried. “I said them, I meant them and she--she never said them back, never even acknowledged them.”
That night was still fresh in his mind. The night when his body and heart felt matched perfectly, it was the night he’d said the words he’d felt for weeks and weeks before. He’d stared deeply into your eyes and said them. ‘I love you.’ He’d meant them. He didn’t know he could still truly feel that way about anyone or feel enough to say the words. You’d proven him wrong, and he was cut up because of it.
“Lewis, I’m thrilled that you’ve finally found someone that you want in your life for more than a few months. It makes me so happy that you have found someone to love. She is a wonderful woman, but, who cares what she does? If this is how you feel how you truly feel, if she is who you choose and wholeheartedly want beside you then you are supposed to be with it be about her no matter what.”
“Seriously!? No.”
“That my love, is the difference between a boy and a grown man. A grown man is one hundred percent true to what’s in here,” she reached over then pat his chest just over his heart. “He is about it, and nothing changes it because it does not matter.”
“How—H--how do I do that? How in the world do I put myself out there--,” he voiced before she cut him off.
“--And invite her to break your heart? Is she worth the risk?”
He didn’t want to open his mouth to even answer this. If you weren’t worth it, he wouldn’t have spent so much time perusing you. He never would have made so much of an effort to include you in his world and life, he wouldn’t have waited 6 fucking months to sleep with you so both of you were sure where your hearts were, he wouldn’t have ever told you he loved you. Of course, you were worth it but the memory of the look in your eyes as you spoke to him, the last thing you’d said to him held part of him back.
“I have always been and will always be that bitch with or without you.”
That coupled with the way you looked at him just before the elevator doors closed held him back.
“Lewis!”
“I—I don’t—I don’t know anymore.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I thought I knew, thought I was so sure, I was sure, but--I don’t.”
This was fucked, he thought as he felt his mother’s eyes boring into him. When she stood she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as she did when he was a child after a spill. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out while he relished this comforting embrace. It was in his mother’s loving and judgment-free arms he finally broke letting it all go.
Hours seemed to pass this way, or perhaps it had been just mere minutes. When his sister approached he felt heaps better but his heart was still heavy. A notification from his phone drew his attention as his sister sat on the floor before him. As he checked it, his sister gave her best attempt at a pep talk. Some words he caught others he missed but the sentiment was sometimes time helped people see the error of their ways and come up with ways to fix the errors. He didn’t know if she meant his errors or yours.
He went into his socials DMs and found a message from your best friend. After hesitating for a few moments he tapped into it and found a video. It took him to a recent video that was only available to her close friends. Your face came into view, and he instantly noticed the tears on your cheeks. You held your hand up to block the camera view, but the angle only changed.
“When bestie is tired of frontin' for the gram with the having the time of my life posts and allows herself to be sad and you gotta cheer her up,” your best friend said.
“Stop. You can’t record me like this. I’m not sad,” you protested.
“No?”
You were quiet for a few seconds. “No.”
Your voice was clouded as if your throat was tight words struggled to make it through. “Not sad—really, really sad,” you said voice a sobbing whine.
Fuck, he thought. He hated seeing you cry.
“What—what do I—do I do now?”
“Allow yourself to feel it,” your friend suggested.
You sobbed some more, and he watched your friend hug you before the video ended. So many things flew through his mind but the two things that kept coming around. The first was how much he missed you.
The second, you were worth it.
~~~~~~
-Y/N-
Everyone said that the first month of a breakup was always the hardest and those words were proving true. Since those elevator doors had closed you’d done everything to keep yourself moving. You piled on work to make sure you had no free time to sit and think. However, that didn’t quite work because wherever you went, something reminded you of him. Either it was a café or a location you went to for a shoot, or even something you ate. You nearly threw yourself into the ocean when one of the set interns brought you a glass of Almave.
When work didn’t prove successful, you picked yourself and your friends up for a girls’ trip to a faraway island. You drank, partied, and posted it all on your socials hoping you could fake it till you made it, but the faking became too much. By nightfall every night, you wallowed with a bottle or two of wine.
While you were beyond pissed at Lewis you also knew that picture was sent to you on purpose. You weren’t an idiot and had dealt with plenty of conniving, duplicitous bitches in your days. You knew someone was trying to fuck with you and start shit and you were giving them what they wanted. That didn’t matter because none of that changed the content of the photo.
Every time you came back to that no matter how much of your anger had dissipated, it all came back with that one nugget of fact. It was straight-up disrespect. If the tables had been turned and it was you, Lewis would have made a huge fuss over it by being extra petty. You refused to believe you were in the wrong, but several bits of your interaction tried to come through to show you had been in the wrong for a few things.
You were a passionate person and usually when arguing that passion shines through and oftentimes you get reckless at the mouth not caring how your words are thrown together or the force of those words. You knew you fought dirty; it was the only way you knew how. You blamed it on the years of living a single and independent life after one of the worst breakups of your life. It had caused more damage than good. You’d had no one to answer to, no one to consider or consult and you oftentimes still lived there in your head. It was a major switch to flip and a switch you failed, more times than you liked to admit, to flip.
You knew that night you’d said whatever came to mind and didn’t care if the words hurt. In fact, you said some things to cause pain and that was the source of your regret. Lewis had often told you throughout your 9-month relationship that your mouth would get you in trouble in more ways than one. He’d warned you about your recklessness and told you he wouldn’t stand for it because if he really wanted he could get just as reckless as you.
That was one of the things you loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to call you out on your bullshit and put you in your place when you got into your bad girlfriend mode.
Sighing, you raised the glass of wine to your lips and guzzled until it was empty. Your eyes fell to the now empty wine bottle, and you debated with yourself over getting another. It was the 2nd bottle of the night, and you knew if you got a 3rd you’d have entered lush territory, but you didn’t care enough to resist. So you slinked across the kitchen to the wine fridge and grabbed another bottle of wine, but before you closed it you grabbed one more just in case.
After you’d popped the cork and filled your glass to the brim your phone went off with a security notification. Checking the application, you reviewed the notice of someone entering your code into your security gate.
“What the hell?”
Another notification came in informing you a car was pulling up the drive. You went over the registered movements watching the videos to figure out if you had a security breach or if someone was just showing up unannounced. On the 3rd video, you realized who it was.
“No fucking way.”
You walked out of the kitchen, through your home, and to your front door. Before you got there, the bell rang. Once you turned the corner you saw who it was through the intricately decorated glass doors. Lewis Hamilton. Neither of you moved. You stood there staring at each other. You couldn’t read the expression in his brown eyes, but you could read the dark circles underneath them and his lackluster complexion. He looked slightly sick but also indifferent. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was having as hard a time as you were. You’d purposely stayed off his and his friends' accounts to avoid any excessive thoughts of him.
Lewis didn’t move a muscle, he patiently waited for you to make your move. It was a move you didn’t know how to make. You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t wanted him to run after you and fight some more, but you also didn’t want to see him again. So one hand itched to grab the knob and open the door for him but the other hand wanted to override the security system and shutter down your house.
You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths giving your body control to see which side won. When your hand wrapped around the knob you wanted to break it. Once you opened the door, you snapped your eyes open.
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get past my gate?”
Lewis scoffed and slightly shook his head before speaking, “Let me in, Y/N.”
You scrunched your face and doubled down on your annoyance. “What? Not a chance in hell. Answer me. How?”
When your best friend's name came out of his mouth your eyes bugged. There was no way.
“Bullshit! There is no way my best friend would give you my security code for my gate without letting me know. There is no way!”
He looked unamused now.
“Yet she did.”
You studied him still shocked.
“Let me in.”
“No. Why would I do that? We have nothing to talk about.”
“I think we have a lot to talk about.”
You scoffed. “Five weeks too late. Anything I had to say was said already. We’ve both said enough. You should go 44.”
Lewis took a sharp breath in and released it. As it came out it sounded like a hiss. “Oh boy. Y/N, stop talking! For real just stop—fucking talking and let me in!”
“What the fuck?! Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Do I fucking look like one of your side bitches, or your groupies?!”
From the heat rushing through you, you could tell that your anger was beginning to really boil now. With quick moves, Lewis moved from his side of the door to close the space between you. Before you knew it, he had one of his hands cupping your skull and his lips pressed to yours. Like magic as if on command you stopped moving and any thought of protest faded, hell any thought at all faded.
Lewis’ lips moved against yours in a way you’d found yourself missing the last five weeks. He kissed you like a starved man, like a man who’d come back to claim what was his and your body reacted in the only way it had ever reacted—eager acceptance.
A small whimper escaped you and that was when Lewis backed off. You kept your eyes closed relishing the feelings that had now bubbled up within you, feelings you’d been working overtime to suppress and ignore. One kiss was all it took for the geyser to erupt.
“You talk to fucking much for your own good,” Lewis whispered.
You could feel the whisps of his breath against your face and picked up the scent of mint, and some form of berry. You tried to control your breathing so he wouldn’t see how much he still affected you. Opening your eyes, you peered into his glossy doe ones.
“You’ve said more than enough. I still have shit to say. So listen.”
Lewis then squeezed your hip bringing you back to the present. It was then you realized your body was pressed to his and his hand was gripping you holding you against him controlling your body like he always did. Shit, you thought. You loved when he took control, loved how he always knew how to shut you up when you got into one of your what he would call Y/N fits. Lewis squeezed your hip once more while biting his bottom lip and you wanted to knee him in the balls because of how easy it still was for him to turn you on.
As if he knew it too, Lewis released you as quickly as he’d grabbed you and walked into your house. A shiver rushed through you making you shudder. Asshole, you thought while you closed and locked your door. When turned around he was standing there waiting for you. Rolling your eyes, you led the way back to the kitchen. Once there you grabbed your glass and finished it.
“Speak.”
Lewis scoffed. “Don’t test me, Y/N.”
Clenching your jaw you refilled your glass then watched him with slightly narrowed eyes. You were not going to make any of this easy for him.
“I’m tired of these subs you keep throwing my way. So fucking tired of it. It’s like you enjoy being cold and evil to me and that’s not even cool. I’ve never taken joy in being cold to you.”
Shaking your head you took another sip from your glass.
“I’ve known you for years. Yeah, it wasn’t like we were in the same friend group, but we were cordial. I’ve wanted you the entire time I’ve known you. Yeah, yeah, I was messing with other women throughout that time.”
“Messing? Just say fucking. Call a spade a spade and move the fuck on,” you blurted out.
“Again, stop talking!”
His voice bounced around the kitchen, but you didn’t feel fear. You’d never feared him. You knew he wasn’t one of those men who hit women. That had never and would never be him. Narrowing your eyes, you took a large gulp of your wine, your conflicting feelings wreaking havoc on you.
“You act like you don’t have a past or even things from your past you’re ashamed of. Shit Y/N! I’ve told you I am not that man anymore, I’ve changed.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The silence stretched and you kept your eyes on him. He looked hurt but also frustrated. “I get that, and I’ve been killing myself by doing what I can to prove it to you, to show you I deserve your time.”
Shaking your head you scoffed. “You don’t have to prove shit else, Lewis. I have all the proof I need; I saw it all in that picture!”
“The picture was bullshit. Tell me you don’t get someone is fucking with you.”
“Again why do they want to do that Lewis? Huh! Is it because of your thot ass!”
“Oh my god, here we go again! Stop throwing my past in my face. I’ve owned it and have walked away from it. That picture was bullshit. I was working. What that picture doesn’t show--.”
You grabbed the wine bottle and began walking away. “I don’t give a shit anymore!”
Lewis’ hand wrapped around your wrist stopping your movement. “It was a photoshoot, Y/N. Someone took a picture of an impromptu photoshoot and sent it to you out of context.”
You scanned his eyes for any sign of a lie.
“You’re lying.”
“I have never lied to you. I swear it. You can even go to the brand owner and find out, it’s easy to do.”
You couldn’t believe that. “You’re lying Lewis.”
“I’m not. I told you I would never do some shit like that to you.”
You kept scanning his eyes unable to wrap your head around what he was saying. He had to be lying. Right?
“Look--,” he began dropping his hand and releasing you. With a sigh, he continued, “I came here to give you this.”
He then pulled something from his back pocket and held it out to you. The large brown envelope in his hand looked like doom in the form of an office supply.
“This is the last goddamn time I’m going to have you throw my past in my face. The last fucking time, Y/N. It’s not fair and I shouldn’t have to explain shit to you because this was before you and has nothing to do with us, here or now, but for some fucking reason I feel like I have to, and it irks the shit out of me especially since you don’t give me the same courtesy.”
His words felt like dull blades whipping against your skin. That flared your anger.
“You don’t have to explain shit to me.”
“Shut up!”
That was it. Though you liked it when he stood up to you, you hated feeling this backed into a corner, especially with the truths he’d just dropped.
“Listen, you’re not gonna be--.”
That was all you got out before Lewis’ lips were pressed to yours once again and again everything stopped. His lips manipulated you making you slump back against the wall you hadn’t realized you were pressed to. Lewis’ large hand squeezed your hip once again and you’d never wanted to strip someone more than him right now. When he pulled his lips from yours he kept his forehead to yours.
“You’ve never fucked with a guy like me. I told you that 9 months ago and it’s still true. I’m not going to just let you talk to me any old way. Those other fools were weak as fuck. I’m not weak. I can handle your ass,” Lewis said.
He didn’t need to say shit else because you were now turned the fuck on. Your eyes locked and it took everything in you to remain composed though his lips looked more and more tempting with each passing second.
“Are you listening now?”
You had no words.
“I’m done with that life. It’s boring, it’s old and to be honest it weighs me the fuck down. I want you and it goes past sex, it goes past claiming you or getting a notch, or even letting the world know I got you. None of that matters to me, it never has. I want you. I want Y/N. I’ve been real this entire time.”
Again he pushed out the envelope to you.
“After I give you this it’s all in your hands, your court, your decision. I’ll chase you but I’ll only chase you so far. This is how far.”
Your eyes dropped to the envelope between your bodies, but you didn’t reach for it. You couldn’t. You were actually scared of it and what it may hold. Glancing back at him, you studied his face.
“Your decision, make it. If it’s not me then cool. No hard feelings, we’re still friends and I’ll wish you nothing but the best but,” Lewis paused then cupped your chin as he pressed himself against you more. With his face mere centimeters from yours, he finished, “My lips will not touch yours until you come to me for it.”
Holy shit, you thought to yourself.
“Our next kiss if it’s in the cards will be done by you, not me.”
From the look in his eyes, you could tell he was serious. You could tell he meant this with everything. He was done chasing you, done giving and giving only to have you keep him at a distance. Fuckity, fuck, you thought.
“Are you gonna take it?”
You wanted to shake your head, but you couldn’t move. It was like he was the headlights, and you were the deer. You recognized the fear you felt. You knew it was do or die and you knew this was the moment of truth for your relationship. With what he’d told you about the picture being a set up you were more confused than ever. Rightfully, he shouldn’t even be here right now, not after your conversation before and how it all went down. He was still here trying to get you back.
You slowly took the envelope with a shaky hand, the only tell of your fear. Lewis slowly backed away from you while keeping his eyes on yours. When he was a few feet away he turned and began walking out of the kitchen.
“So that’s it?”
Lewis stopped then looked back at you. His expression was different now. You could tell how hurt he was now, how much you’d hurt him.
“You tell me, Y/N.”
You didn’t know what to tell him, so you didn’t say anything. Lewis nodded, the disappointment filling his eyes before he turned from you and walked away. You stood there listening to him walk through your house, his footsteps getting further and further away. When you heard the door close you released breath you didn’t know you were holding. The notification sounds from your phone told you that he’d driven down the drive and left the property.
It was then you put the envelope on the kitchen counter and took several deep breaths trying to calm yourself. No matter how many breathing exercises you did you still couldn’t calm down. Your mind raced replaying the conversation, dissecting every move, word, and glance, and analyzing it against every other conversation over the last 9 months. When your legs gave way from the weight of it all, you dropped to the floor. One question kept screaming in your head.
Had it all truly been wasted love or was there still hope?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TagList:
@chaneajoyyy @caramara3 @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887 @halfrican-heat @mauvecherie-writes @nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans @gardenwonders2 @sweetlikecoffy @dillie60 @ olabelle757 @ophiaedits @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart @keytodespair @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329 @shar74nett @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour @sonjashuterbugjohnson
@alookintohersoul @asiaaisa77 @jd-now-jq @naturalthrone22 @mrsbarnes-rogers @beyourownkindofbeautiful @beccacupcakesxo @toni9 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison00 @queenoftheworldisdead @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @richonne4life @coffeebooksandfandom @siempremamita @raveviolet @dumbchick @amennariee @briellableu @leebabe444 @31miw-inkpsycho
@rororo06 @disaster-rose @bugngiz @yourwonderbelle @queenbetter @melaninhawtie @bekindbecoolbeyou @heartfullofgolden @idkiwantchocolatee @missuniee @avngrsfangirl @a-highly-opinionated-mess @19jammmy @nunya7394 @eltima02 @motheroffae @luckydiorxoxo
@majx00 @bbhyuneee @queenanababy @ravenqueen27 @multi-fandom5 @xsweetdellzx @bqueensweet @misswolff @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @blveeeeeee @majx00 @rowansshit @tian-monique @venusesworld @motheroffae @gg-trini
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton blurb#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#wasted time one shot#wasted love one shot
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
webcam for beginners
paring: Dave York x f!Reader
rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)
word count: 3,7k~
warnings: power imbalance (boss/employee); age gap (reader mid to late 20s, Dave 45); mutual pining; f and m masturbation; a hint of voyeurism; dirty talk; not proof/beta read sorry; no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything
a/n: a very special thank you to @noxturnalpascal for helping fellow sulking writers get out of the writing slump with this prompt/excersise! It definitely helped because i was stuck for more than two weeks unable to put out anything but a couple of fruitless ideas, but this I banged out in a day and now i feel so much motivation to continue writing it's insane! thank you hottie ily and you're honestly the purest gem of a human being <3
PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak). PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW)
*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum (yeh that one went splendid)
MY MAIN MASTERLIST
“Would you mind if I get a side job, Mr. York?”
You had been meaning to start this conversation earlier, like a month ago and definitely not when your employer and the father of two adorable baby girls David York was running late after dealing with burnt toast and spilled coffee courtesy of his eldest daughter. You stopped him right as he was about to leave his house, his hand frozen halfway to the keys laying on the shelf.
“Why? Don’t I pay you enough?”
“No, no of course not.” You shook your head. The last thing you wanted was to appear greedy when he already was paying you more than any family on the upper-middle class filled street would. "It’s not about that. It’s just…” You tried to gather your thoughts together, every line that you rehearsed in front of the mirror abandoning your head. “You know, I wasn’t going to make babysitting my whole profession, and since this is the last summer before I graduate, I’d love to have something remote so I could save up and take care of myself further on… I understand if that’s not something you… I just, it’s not even a job right now, I’d just take courses to get into the job and I can take those when the kids are asleep so it won’t affect them at all! You know I wouldn’t let anything affect them.”
“Jesus, dear, relax.” Dave listened to you patiently, finally placing both of his big hands on your shoulders, grounding you. He laughed merrily, and you felt a wave of embarrassment, hiding your eyes from his prying browns. “I can’t even get a word in. And I’d really like to because the word is yes, of course. You’ve been nothing but helpful these past months, and I am very appreciative of the fact that you warn me beforehand. Not that I thought you’d stay our babysitter forever, however pleasant the prospect is.”
Your eyes widened, surprise and happiness fighting for a place in the depth of them. "Really? You don’t mind?” You never thought Mr. York would full on refuse or fire you, but the fact that he let you do this freely without cutting your salary or suggesting you find a different time for this made your heart swell with joy. This man was a treasure, and he reminded you about that once again.
“No, I don’t. As long as girls get the same amount of your attention, you have the green light from me.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you Mr. York!” You didn’t even try to stop the urge to throw your arms around that man, jumping a little and almost squealing how grateful you were, chills erupting under your skin when you felt him return the innocent gesture and engulf your body with his arms and fresh smell.
He came back early that day, knowing that the girls were probably having their daytime nap, but excited at the prospect of spending his first evening in weeks with them together, as a family. Maybe he could even persuade you to stay for dinner. He scratched his chin, thinking if you’d be more inclined to stay if he ordered Chinese or Mexican, when he stumbled over one of the toys girls must have dropped. In an attempt to not fall, Dave spread his arms, grabbing the coat rack and steadying himself, but letting the rucksack that was hanging from it fall. He cursed under his breath, hoping that the noise didn’t wake his daughters, and crouched down to gather all the things that spilled from obviously your bag. He recognized the familiar items from your bag and held up a lipstick, smiling at the memory of Alice begging you to put it on her. You agreed, and he went to work with a tiny lipstick stain his baby girl left on his cheek when she said goodbye. He shoved most of the things inside, still reminiscing, when a bright book cover caught his attention. The title on the book cover read “Webcam for Beginners: A Step-by-Step Guide” . Confused about why you might have bought a book about webcams, Dave felt a pang of unease. Before he could go any further with his assumptions, he decided to open a seemingly boring guide book. Your rucksack fell back to the floor when he saw the contents of the thing. Right in front of his eyes there were dozens of tips, graphs with specific angles, various body parts all to make this the best guide book for future cam girls.
Fuck.
His back was covered with sticky sweat as he put the book on the key shelf, the one that was too high for his girls to try and play with his keys. His steps were slow, as Dave was still thinking what he was supposed to do with it, if he was supposed to do anything at all. After all, you were a free woman with her body autonomy, and he was just a single dad with a shady job and an ex-wife who spent all her waking hours trying to ruin his life.
On autopilot, he walked up the stairs, opening his daughters’ bedroom without making any noise. They were sleeping peacefully, trading two separate beds to sleep hugging each other in one, Alice’s. Dave smiled, softly, his heart soaring with love for his girls, when he heard loud breathing. He wasn’t dumb, so he didn’t even wonder what those noises were or where they were coming from. He strode to the end of the hall to where the guest room was located. The door was just slightly ajar and he shook his head, disapproving both you and himself but for very different reasons.
Damn, you were beautiful. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong, but once he got a first look at the beautiful expanse of your back, at the curve of your ass that he saw you tried to twist awkwardly this way and that so it looked better on the old laptop screen, he couldn’t be bothered with guilt.
Your attention was fully on the picture of yourself on the screen, and he couldn’t blame you, he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you either. Dave felt his pants become tighter, his blue shirt most likely sported a big damp stain on his back both from the august heat and the unbearable strain of his arousal. He saw you lean back from the camera, opening your naked thighs and trying to lift them up to see if it looked better that way, but that meant that the mic would barely pick your beautiful breathy moans that you tried to keep on the quieter side for the sake of the girls, Dave figured. Your left hand supported your weight as your right were busy between your thighs.
“You should move your camera closer if you want them to hear and see what you sell.”
The speed with which you covered your bare body was so fast that Dave thought he glitched for a moment.
“Mr. York!” Your eyes were as wide as they could physically be, horror written all over your face. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Dave let out a chuckle, striding into the room confidently and closing the door behind. “Aren’t you supposed to study for your new work?”
“I… Well, I,” you had nothing to tell him, no quick reply that could at least soften the blow. Nothing. And you were still very aware of your nakedness, even though you covered your front as much as you could, your back that faced the wall was still visible. Your old laptop created steady brown noise as the hard drive fought for its life with the editing and video recording app still going.
“You already were, weren’t you?” Dave slowly approached and sat down on a comfortable chair right in front of the bed. His dick was painfully hard for the last ten minutes since he had found that stupid book and imagined what you did with it.
“I’m sorry, I know how it looks, but I’m…”
He interrupted you with a hand gesture, “I don’t care what you choose to do with your body, dear. It’s yours for a reason, and I have no say. I’m no one to you.”
You felt both a relief and a sense of disappointment washing over you. Mr. York was right, he was no one to you, just a man with two adorable little daughters who paid you to look after them. He didn’t have to take the responsibility for your little crush on him. You smiled still, a warm happiness spreading all over your insides because you were right, and he wasn’t one of those conservative bastards. He respected your choice and he… Wait, why was he still in the room, his eyes not leaving your body, lips wet with a fresh coat of saliva from his tongue.
“Mr. York…”
“I’d like it very much if you called me Dave.”
You nodded, and started over.
“Dave, why are you still…” you finished your sentence by pointing your finger around the room.
“I thought I could help you,” he stated nonchalantly, manspreading his legs wide and letting you see the stiff outline of his cock even through the material. “I saw your little book,—”
"You what?”
“- on accident. Thought I might help you, since you did nothing but help me all these past weeks. I do know how a good cam girl can sell herself, from a buyer’s point of view.”
You felt another wave of heat washing over your body, but this time it was of a different origin. This man - this gorgeous, smart man - suggested you to help with… what exactly? You didn’t let yourself ponder about it too much, just agreeing to whatever he wanted to give you. Anything, even just a hungry gaze from him spiked your arousal harder than any porn you’d ever watched. Dave’s face twisted in a cocky smile, the one he gave you instead of saying ‘I told you so’, whenever he was right and you were wrong. The one that made you wanna kiss it off his face.
“How are you going to… help?” Embarrassment wasn’t a feeling you’ve experienced a lot, otherwise the choice of what you were about to do would’ve been the wrongest one ever, but somehow with him you felt like a virgin schoolgirl, despite being ten years older than one, and a dozen dicks more experienced.
“Well, for starters, I guess you’ll need to drop that blanket.”
Your throat bobbed, a thick glob of saliva barely passing down with how tense you were. There was nothing to be ashamed of, or shy about, but Dave… Goddamnit, it would be so much easier if you didn’t have a crush on him.
As if reading your hesitation right from your face, he put his wide palm on his crotch, pressing down a little.
“Would it be easier for you to show me yours if I showed you mine?”
You choked on air from his proposition, you wanted to see that man naked for as long as you can remember, sizing him up in his tight slacks and crisp shirts every time he went away for work. Going as far as coming thirty minutes earlier in hopes to see that man leaving the shower in a towel. God, you were such a creep, you cringed at yourself. Dave interpreted your face differently, his own coming from a hungry excitement to confusion and embarrassment?
“We don’t have to…” He placed both his hands on the arms of the chair preparing to stand up and leave, but you didn’t let him, dropping the material that covered your body and exposing yourself to him.
“No, no, no! I want to.” You hurried to give him the most pleading face you could manage, “I really want to. I wanted for a while, actually.”
The smirk returned in his face as quickly as it went away, and he was back in the role of the leader, someone with control. “Really?”
Instead of replying, you spread your legs, showing off your bare glistening pussy, that was now more wet than after you played with it.
“Oh, fuck. Well, that’s a good start, baby.”
You almost moaned as you heard him calling you baby. You’d had dreams in which he would pound into your pussy with abandon and call you baby, his baby. Your hand traveled from the column of your neck to the valley between your breasts, sliding left and pinching the hard bud of your nipple.
Dave didn’t go down on his promise, making a quick work of his pants and reaching out to pull his cock through the slit on his boxers.
Oh, how fucking gorgeous his cock was. You felt your mouth competing with your pussy over who would produce more wetness at the sight of his beautiful thick shaft topped with a fat tip that was just a little grittier than the rest of him. The red color of the head as well as the precum pooling in his slit told you that he’d been hard for a while now, and you felt proud for making him this aroused. Dave took his cock between the tips of his thumb and two fingers, bobbing it up and down and watching your eyes follow the movement, hypnotized by it. Emboldened by his openness, you felt every bit of hesitation drain from you. In that moment you were nobody but two beautiful bodies that desired pleasure, there was no room for shame.
“So what would sell me for you, Dave?”
His gaze darkened, brown of his eyes matching the wet stain of arousal that you left on the simple sheets. Dave licked his lips, his tongue slowing down on the plush lower one, and tightened the gip on his cock, not yet moving.
“Make sure that the camera catches how wet your pretty cunt is, and don’t be shy. At least, not too shy.”
“Doesn’t innocence sell?”
“Innocence in your voice and looks, not your actions, baby.” While the words settled in your brain, you tried to keep your hands away from your cunt, your entrance pulsing around emptiness, trying to suck anything in to fill you up. “Move the laptop, after all we’re learning the tricks of the trade here.”
You moved your old Lenovo from the edge of the bed to sit between your spread legs. You saw the reflection of your glistening folds on the screen, but made sure that you weren’t obscuring the view for Dave.
“Now touch her,” Dave’s command was barely audible, his voice hoarse and a bit strained. “Tell me how good she feels. I need to practically feel her on my fingers.”
“You can,” you whispered, transfixed on the image of your fingers trying to spread the slick lips of your pussy.
You didn’t see him nod, telling you that he understood your implication, “I can, but they can’t.”
Fuck, your head snapped up to look at Dave’s face, but stopped at his dick, his head almost purple with how violently he was choking it. You returned your gaze to the screen, thinking that you could come just from the image of Dave getting himself off.
“My pussy,” you started hesitantly, closing your eyes for a moment and letting yourself just feel through your fingertips. “She feels really, really good. So soft and,” your index and middle fingers started tracing the outer lips, sometimes slipping inside, teasing you, “and so wet.” Your fingers slipped on your wetness proving your words, and slid lower, where you felt desperately empty. “So wet my fingers just want to slip inside.”
You heard a distinct spitting sound, and lifted your eyes once again just in time to see Dave’s palm, wet with his saliva, close around the throbbing shaft of his cock. You bit your lip hard, like you were the one feeling Dave’s relief. The sting of the bite piercing your lip helped you return to reality, which was in no way worse than a dream. Your fingers slowly caressed your pussy, thumb circling your clit in long-learned movements that sent jolts of pleasure up your spine. The lewd sounds of you spreading your slick all around your lips and Dave’s hand stroking up and down his cock combined together, as your rapid breaths tried to tie up with them in a unique symphony.
Dave’s eyes never left your pussy. The angle wasn’t perfect, but he could see your dripping core illuminated by the light of the computer screen like it was the star of the show. No, it was the star of the show. Your beautiful, shining lips puffy and swollen with your teasing, your fingers slippery and your clit throbbing, begging. Dave’s eyes went dry and he forced himself to blink.
“Come on, baby, fuck yourself on those little fingers. I need to know how good she feels inside.”
You simply nodded, surprised to realize that this was exactly what you were waiting for, for him to tell you. Your fingers eagerly slipped inside, two at the same time, and your whimpers made you sound pathetic but pleased.
“Good girl,” Dave all but growled, his hand tightening around his head to stave off the embedding orgasm. He wasn’t romantic enough to calculate for you to come together, but he wanted you to come first at least. “Is she tight, baby? Is that pretty cunt hungry? I see her just sucking your fingers in like it’s nothing.”
You felt your body cover with a sheen of sweat like it was your second skin. You should’ve chosen a different position, or at least lean on the bedpost, but now there was no way you’d move so you had to keep your body up with one hand while letting the other one fuck into your pussy, with your legs spread as wide as the fucking horizon. Dave was right, your pussy welcomed your fingers with ease, it wasn’t the first time you filled her today, but you felt the disappointing lack of girth mentally comparing your slender digits with Dave’s meatier ones. Your brows knitted in frustration as you continued fucking your fingers into your squelching entrance.
“She’s so hot, and wet,” your words were interrupted by your own carefully quiet moans but you didn’t stop speaking. “So tight, but she would be tighter around yours.”
“Good job, baby,” David nodded, resuming the stroking of his cock, gentler this time. “Tell them, make them want to be there with you.”
“Fuck them, oh” you tried to push your fingers deeper and deeper, touch that exquisite spot, something you just knew Dave would do easily, but your fingers were not fit for that, “I’m talking about your fingers, Dave. They would feel so good inside me.” You almost cried, sweat from extortion and a single tear mixing together on your cheeks.
You saw York’s jaw clench as if he was physically in pain, “do you think you can handle these fat fingers, little thing?”
As soon as he said it, your eyes were glued to two of his fingers - index and middle - that he put up, holding them next to his lips and then giving them a slow wet suck.
Your body shuddered in a pre-orgasmic convulsion and you squeezed your eyes shut the image of him imprinted on your eyelids. “Yes, yes, I can, she can. She’d be so tight and wet for you, you’d spread her so wide with your fat fingers.”
“Show me,” he ordered, and you didn’t even think before falling on your back and squeezing two fingers of your other hand inside your pussy, spreading it apart and showing him the most hidden, and intimate part of yourself shamelessly. The air hit your heated core with cruel coldness, but you just accepted the wild contrast, making it excite your burning skin even more.
“Oh God, you perfect little thing, fuck yourself,” he prompted, his voice hurried and feverish, just like his movements, “fuck your wet little pussy with your fingers, come on.”
You would never be tired of obeying him, you thought, keeping just two of your fingers inside and letting the other hand caress your abandoned clit. Your movements became synchronized, no way to know who adjusted to who, but creating an illusion of something both of you silently wanted for some time now. You forced your eyes to open, moving your head so you could see Dave in the armchair looking back at you. All the words have been forgotten in the desperate chase for pleasure. Your eyes roamed each other dripping like raindrops from the disheveled hair, to furrowed in concentration brows, from wet lips to the dip in beneath the column of the neck, filling up with sweat; low low low to the moving hands, jealous of each other’s limbs and digits, internally begging to be their replacements. You wanted your whole body to become a vessel of Dave’s pleasure; he wanted to dive inside your cunt and suffocate in its wetness and warmth.
“Come on, baby,” he gritted through his teeth, “come for me, give it to me, come on.”
Both your hands sped up in an attempt to finally reach that peak, and no matter how unromantic David thought himself to be, your orgasms spilled out of you with less than a second of difference.
Your body convulsed with after-shocks while Dave hissed, letting go of his cock and closing his eyes for the first time this evening.
“The book was more helpful, but it was more fun with you.” You quipped joyfully, and Dave lifted his head that felt like it weighed at least a thousand pounds from the back of the chair, looking at you.
The smile that you directed at the ceiling was radiant, and he couldn’t contain one of his. Dave looked at your wasted body, and suddenly it was his turn to feel hesitant and shy. Still, he gathered the leftover composure and stood up, moving towards the bed where you still laid with your eyes closed and lips stretched with joy.
“Maybe we could put some of the tips to use, to see if they work?”
You opened your eyes, immediately finding his.
“I wouldn’t say no to that.”
please leave a comment if you liked what you read
#Dave York x reader#dave york x female reader#dave york x you#Dave York x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#dave york fanfiction#iamasaddie fic
293 notes
·
View notes
Note
IDEA FOR CAINE. so you knnow how pomni tought she was in dream? ok so what if we enter the digital circus and thnks its a dream to? where wes tart to do what ever becuase "oh its just a dream" and do it with caine to prove its not but soon later figure that you had actually fucked the ring master and now you have to live with that untill you abstarct. also, i love you...................re writing alot
thank........... you <33
hopefully this is okay! i accidentally made Caine a little mean at the end oops, poor reader.
Caine/Fem!Reader.
nsfw themes. | artwork.
minors dni.
You've been staring at the ceiling all night. Everyone was right.. you don't need to sleep. You don't even feel the urge, it was so.. strange. Unsettling.. it was making your mind feel like an endless void when you thought about it a bit too hard.
You closed your eyes and sighed before hopping out of bed and taking to the halls instead. You needed a walk, get your body moving to distract your mind just a little.
Which did little to help, in fact you were back tracking to your first theory.. surely this all had to just be a dream, you just had to figure out how to wake yourself up. yes that's it! a small sliver of hope.
"Hmm.." You pondered out loud, walking down the long corridor of rooms. Everyone else must be sleep or.. just relaxing their eyes more like. "Caine.. maybe if I.." you were muttering to yourself, walking back and fourth as if you were in some kind of trance.
Little did you know Caine was already watching, one of his eyes were tucked away in the corners of all the large open spaces , including the corridors. He was only half paying attention until you started—
"[Censor] [Censor] [CENSOR!]" Began screaming out every curse word and you would keep doing so until Caine showed up. Which, like clockwork he did.
"Now, now what's all this, y/n!? you'll wake up the others! Not to mention the potty mouth you have! Haven't we been over this already?" Caine said in a cheerful yet assertive tone, staring at you with his hands planted on his hips and waiting for your response.
But you didn't give him one , instead you reached up and gripped his suit collar and yanked him down, planting a kiss onto his jaw just to test the waters. He scrambled and pulled back, "W.. Woah now! What's gotten into your my dear!? You haven't even taken me on a first date yet!" He teased and continued to ramble about how inappropriate and unlike you that was.
Seduce the ringmaster... make him break his own rules, boom. Maybe.. the dream will backfire on itself so bad that you'll wake up?
Or maybe this entire idea was stupid and you're insane!
You shoved that little voice to the back of your head. You had to try something, the whole prospect of being trapped here in the first place was insane!
"A date..? Caine, you've been trapped here for ..well ever! ... Surely you want.. more than just a silly date!" You huffed, and tried to get closer to him but he was keeping his distance. Weary of your actions.
He tugged at his collar as if to fan himself, seemingly a bit tempted by your words, "W—Well , be that as it may, here at the digital circus we have to keep it family friendly we're to be enjoyed by all ages my dear!" He said and twirled his baton a few times within his gloved fingers.
"I know.. but, isn't there somewhere around here we can have a little.. privacy, Caine..~ Just the two of us? I promise no one else will see!"
Caine didn't say anything, he simply cleared his throat and took you by the waist and teleported you both to his quarters. It was grand and a little silly. A red and black theme that matched his outfit, and decor befitting for someone like him.
Caine sat at the edge of his bed and patted his lap.
Oh, god you were really doing this.. was it really this easy??
He tugged you onto his lap, and now you were flushed. But.. he didn't make a move to touch you at all.
"Now my precious , y/n we can start our date! We must take things slow to set a good example!" He said excitedly and flipped on the small tv in front of you both.
Oh we was serious. This.. this wouldn't do... it'd take too long.
You tuned out the television and Caine seemed to just tap his hand on your hip as he laughed at the corny jokes on the tv.
Just then a light bulb went off in your head and you shuffled a little in his lap, ass brushing and grinding against his crotch. You felt him stiffen and try to adjust a little.
"Something wrong?" You said oh so innocently.
"O-Of course not dear! I do hope you're enjoying the show! Bonding is very important for relationships!" He said , seemingly unphased but the sudden hardness poking against your ass was telling you everything you needed to know.
"I agree.. bonding is very important." You said in a low voice while squriming on his lap again, and his hand suddenly gripped your hip. Keeping you still.
"Ahem, heh, I think its best if you keep still dear! Don't want any.. accidents!"
He laughed, albeit nervously.
You took this chance and to turn around on his lap so you were facing him and shoved him onto the mattress. You were straddling him and keeping your palms flat on his chest as you grinded against his clothed erection, "That doesn't feel so family friendly in between your legs Caine.. just loosen up a little.~" You cringed hearing yourself trying to sound sexy but it seemed to be working. He was stuttering and making excuses but didn't push you away. In fact you could feel him twitching beneath you.
Fuck, you were getting more turned on that you thought you would.. when would this dream end..?
You were going to pull back, feeling as if this wasn't working but then you felt two large gloved hands on your ass tugging you back towards him.
"C.. Caine..?"
"Well, it seems I've just thought of way to keep this family friendly and satiate your.. more carnal desires dear! I didn't think you'd be so bold and I must say I'm impressed!"
"W—Well, I just.. I didn't think you'd actually—" You fumbled over your words and Caine took his chance to flip you onto your stomach, snapping his fingers and you were completely naked.
"C.. Caine!? What happened to taking it slow??" You said trying to cover yourself but he made sure you stayed on your stomach , his baton planted on your lower back with a bit of pressure.
"Ubupbup! None of that Y/N," He interrupted and tapped your inner thighs with his baton. Silently signaling you to open your legs and slowly you did, nuzzling the blankets in embarrassment.
"Tsk, tsk, just as I thought! You're making an absolute mess!" He shoke his head in disappointment. Making a spectacle out of your arousal.
"W.. What are you going to do..?" You whined and glanced back at him , his erection straining against his black pants quite clearly.
"Well, I'm going to give you a lesson in sexual education of course! Maybe then you'll believe this isn't a dream."
Your lips cracked into a unsettling smile, realizing the position you were in and.. well you were fucked, literally and figuratively now.
"Oh, don't give me that look dear, where did all that vigor go!?" A silly sound effect followed his teasing words, "I assure you you'll feel just fine by the time I'm done with you!~ Or... you'll abstract and I'll have to throw you into the cellar with the rest of them! Either way, I have a lesson to get on with!" He said while planting himself behind you , gloved hands gripping your hips.
"Keep still, will you?"
#the amazing digital circus#minors dni#ask#caine x reader#tadc caine#the amazing digital circus caine#caine x reader smut
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another?
Summary: Rafe was known for how much his body could handle. Everyone knew it. The boy had no limits. So what happens when you try to keep up?
Warnings: Alcohol and substance use, cursing
Author’s Note: Thanks for all of the love recently, I’m glad you’re all liking my writing again !! Now prepare for Rafe being a douche and making your life hell :)
You had known the Cameron’s since you were little, having grown up as their neighbours. You’d spent nearly every day with them, Thanksgivings, July 4th’s, Christmases - they were like a second family. You and Sarah were inseparable, growing up like the twin sisters you’d never had. And Rafe? He’d always found a way to get under your skin. He drove you insane, the one person it seemed that you could argue with for hours on end. But he had the other side too. He’d punched your first boyfriend in middle school when they’d split up with you, and he went with you to prom before anybody else could ask you to be their date, he bought you Christmas presents and gave them to you when nobody else was around. Rafe cared for you in a way he didn’t seem to care for anybody else. Everyone could see it, it was like he had a whole new heart just for you, different from the one he showed to everyone else.
Another thing about Rafe - he always hosted the biggest parties. And tonight was no different. There were people here you’d never seen before, and all of the regular offenders.
“Hey (Y/N),” Topper grins when he sees you, two red solo cups in his hand, “I’ve been told to give you this.”
You smile and take the cup from him, “Thanks Top. Quick question though, who the hell are half of these people?”
He laughs, “Rafe invited a bunch of the holidayers, don’t ask me why.”
You roll your eyes, “Because god forbid his house isn’t overflowing.”
Topper laughs and leans back against the counter in the kitchen where you stood. You two had always stayed friends, past whatever had happened with him and Sarah. He was too sweet for his own good, as much as that was his worst trait sometimes.
“Have you seen him? He’s on it tonight,” He gestures towards where Rafe was snorting another line from the kitchen island.
He’s in a white tee with an open button down shirt, looking handsome despite his habits. His hair is fixed in the curtains around his head that he would constantly complain about, telling you that he should just shave it all off. So far, you’d been able to convince him not to. There’s a beer bottle in his hand but he takes a shot glass from the table and overflows it with tequila, tipping it back like it’s just water to his waiting liver.
“No different than normal, right?” Topper nudges you when you don’t respond, like drawing your attention back to reality.
But you weren’t so sure. He doesn’t seem like the boy you knew. There was something darker about him recently, like the drink and the drugs were more of a coping mechanism than a release. He needed it more than he wanted it recently, and it terrified you.
“(Y/N)!” The familiar low rumble of his voice calls out to you, and you look up to see him stumbling a little in his beeline in your direction.
“Rafe,” You reply, “Having fun?”
“You two are being boring,” He gestures between you and Topper, “You can’t just stand around all night.”
“I think we’re fine, Rafe,” Topper states, taking a swig of his beer.
“No, no, no,” Rafe shakes his head, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, he lifts the hand with the bottle in the direction of Topper, his words slurring into, “I’ve told you before to stay away from her bro.”
“What are you talking about Rafe?” Topper clenches his jaw, looking at you as if he needs you to back him up already.
“Go for my sister, I don’t care. But if she doesn’t want you, that doesn’t mean you get (Y/N).”
“Fuck you,” Topper spits, downing the rest of his drink and walking out of the room, even the mention of Sarah fuelling the anger inside of him that it used to be rare to see.
You turn around and step out of Rafe’s grip, “Well, you can apologise for that in the morning.”
“I’m not apologising to him, I see the way he looks at you,” Rafe shakes his head, sniffing as if his body is already longing for its next hit.
“Rafe,” You’re slow in your words, forcing him to listen, “Me and Topper are friends, same as always. And, even if there was something there, it’s not your place to tell me who I can speak to.”
He takes a big gulp of his drink, not even the slightest hint of distaste on his features, his jaw clenches and unclenches before he speaks, “So you do like him?”
“You’re too drunk and high, and too far gone on whatever is in your body, for this conversation. I’m going home, and I’m going to bed. And I suggest you do too,” You grab your jacket from the counter and tug it over your shoulders, walking away before he has the chance to stop you.
“(Y/N)!” He shouts out, but it drowns out amongst the pulsing of the party.
~~~
Rafe had sent you a string of drunk texts last night after you’d left but none of them made enough sense to understand - just a lot of letters jumbled together. You could still hear the party going on late into the night from your house and part of you feared just how drunk Rafe would be the next day. No. It wasn’t your responsibility.
It’s midday when you walk past their house, taking a quick glance up like you normally would. And you spot him. On the porch, surrounded by bottles and cups and cans, sat on the couch as if not at all phased by it all.
You can’t help but be drawn towards him.
“Hey,” You speak quietly when you reach the top of the steps to the porch.
He looks at you through blurred eyes, picking up a beer bottle from the table and swigging it.
“You’re still drinking?” You raise your brows, the worry settling over your face.
“Shame for it to go to waste, right?” He shrugs, finishing the rest of the bottle and throwing it to the pile.
There were the remainders of various drugs spread across the table and you were almost completely certain that they were all his. The sight made your stomach turn.
But there was something in you when it came to Rafe, an urgency to help him as if you were the only person that could.
“Okay, I’ll have one too,” You set your bag down onto the table and take one of the full bottles, cracking it open and chugging at least half of the bottle.
“What are you doing (Y/N)?”
His hair is in disarray like it normally was in the mornings and he’d changed his clothes, so you knew he’d gone to sleep and woken up. If anything, that made things worse. This wasn’t the continuation of a late night, it was him waking up and realising he wanted to drown out another day before it had even started - the likelihood being that he had hoped he hadn’t had to wake up. It brought a lump to your throat and a tear in your heart.
He opens another bottle and so you finish yours and open another too, the beer already bubbling uncomfortably in your stomach.
“Cut it out,” He rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to deal with this today.”
“Clearly,” You state simply, sipping when he sips.
It continues like that until he’s finished another bottle, grabbing for the bottle of vodka next. You take the tequila, fighting back a wince as you mirror him sipping it down.
“Just fuck off (Y/N),” He says coldly, a kind of tone he rarely ever directed at you.
With that, he reaches for one of the small plastic bags of infamous white powder and tips out enough for a line.
“What? Are you doing this too?” He raises his brows.
You shrug, “Whatever you do, I do.”
Rafe laughs bitterly, setting out another line of equal size just next to his. He does his without flinching, as if it’s practically air to his immune body. You swallow the lump in your throat and pull your hair away from your face.
“You can’t be serious, (Y/N)…” His voice trails off and for a second you know that he’s nervous.
You don’t speak, bending down towards the table, your nose just inches above the wood.
Within a second, a blow of air comes from beside you, Rafe spraying the powder as far from you as he can get it, looking at you with an anger in his eyes.
“What the fuck is this? You think I’m just going to let you start doing drugs in front of me?” He scoffs, his voice raising just a little.
“How do you think I feel, Rafe? I’m watching you practically dig your own grave!”
“That’s not the same thing, okay?”
“I’m tired of acting like I shouldn’t care about this stuff, Rafe! I care about you, and I’m watching you destroy yourself, and you won’t talk to me, you won’t do anything, and you’re acting like I should just sit around and watch you become something and someone that I know you’re not. And of all your yes-men friends, who else is going to be honest with you?”
“I didn’t ask you to do this (Y/N),” He comments, regretting it almost as soon as the words come out.
“You know what? Go fuck yourself,” You grab your bag and stand up, storming back down the path away from his house as quickly as you can, your limbs trembling.
You’re not sure if you hear him, or perhaps it’s just that your hopes had been answered, but his hand grabs you and it feels like both of you are grounded in that moment. It’s a harsh contact, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist, but the sting is one of relief; of knowing he was there.
“Please don’t go.”
#rafe#Rafe cameron#outerbanks#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks x you#outerbanks x y/n#rafe imagine#rafe one shot#rafe drabble#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron blurb#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks one shot#outerbanks drabble#outerbanks blurb
610 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fluent Freshman - Part 21
PREVIOUS
“What made you think taking on a mafia hitman was a good idea?” Andrew asks as he and FF were positioning themselves the best the could for an ambush on Romero.
Since, they APPARENTLY had time to talk.
Romero had gotten the text Andrew had sent him and INSTEAD of coming out right away to progress the whole SCHEME to kidnap and murder Andrew’s Junkie like any sensible goon Romero went to the BAR. Romero went to the Bar to get him and Jackson a round of CELEBRATORY drinks. Romero is still there at the bar waiting to be served by an INCREDIBLY nervous Roland if the number of exclamation marks and puking emojis is to be believed.
What the FUCK is there to celebrate?
These two idiots want to kidnap NEIL and so far the only thing Romero knows (thinks) that they’ve caught are two people that Neil would come for but even in Andrew’s text he’d been clear that he needed help getting ‘The boyfriend and the new friend’ to talk let alone getting them to call ‘The Wesninski Brat’ out. Andrew had hated typing the name in reference to Neil but it was the only thing the two ever referred to him as in their chats.
Is it some insane mental game that Romero thought he and Jackson were going to play on Andrew and Smith? Toasting to their torture so they’d give up Neil? Who knows.
He realizes that FF hasn’t answered him, his eyes focused on the door when Andrew’s thoughts had drifted. A reliable guy, steady in a pinch, and focused like most the others weren’t.
(Andrew does not know that FF is thinking about how one would go about becoming a Mafia Hitman. What is that career path like? Do they show up at job fairs? Do you get a job as a short order cook at a business that acts as a front and see to much but you’re also the only one that knows the secret spaghetti recipe the boss likes so you have to sign yourself to the family? Are you out doing your own freelance crime and someone higher up sees your work one day and literally head hunts you? Is it like in Saw where you survive an ordeal and then-)
“Smith?” Andrew draws FF’s attention away from the door.
“I didn’t think it was a good idea at any point.” FF says and Andrew is surprised by the admission and is more surprised by the twist of FF’s lips into a frown, “I just did what I thought I needed to do.” He adds.
(Andrew does not know that the twist of FF’s lips has more to do with the fact that he is realizing that Romero likely STILL has not washed his hands. Romero hasn’t washed his hands and he is going to hand Jackson a DRINK with those hands. Ugh. Honestly a contract killer AND someone who doesn’t wash his hands? Who RAISED him? What does his grandma think of this? FF hopes she’s disappointed in him.)
“You thought you needed to lure a hitman into an alley?” Andrew asks because the plan is stupid even if so far it has worked out for FF. The fact that Romero hadn’t just come out when he sent Jackson the signal is only due to FF’s good luck and their stupidity.
“I didn’t have a lot of time to think up anything more than the first plan I thought of. I saw him looking at Nicky on the dance floor.” FF says with another twist of his lips as he self-consciously rubbed at his cheek. It’s never fun to have someone who has time to pick apart a plan that you barely had time to form. Andrew can understand the irritation and is glad that FF isn’t lashing out at him for it.
(Andrew does not know that FF is not irritated he is just remembering that he had held up his broken toilet bowl phone to his face to pretend call Captain Neil. He’s contemplating asking if Andrew maybe possibly has a wet wipe? Actually the murder van probably has bleach to clean up evidence, maybe he can just dip his face in there for like a minute.)
“Don’t use a plan where you martyr yourself. I already have to deal with Neil’s bullshit tendencies.” Andrew says instead of thanking him. “You should have just called me.” He says.
FF just holds up his phone, “Dropped into a club toilet. Completely unusable.” He says and yeah that makes sense. FF would have probably just texted Andrew but coming out and seeing a hitman going after Nicky probably made it impossible for the freshman to go get help without drawing all the attention to himself first if he wanted to make sure Nicky stayed safe.
Still.
“You dropped it into a toilet? You haven’t even had anything tonight.” He says because that clumsiness is not something he expects from FF.
“You try taking a pee next to someone on the FBI’s most wanted list and see how dry your palms remain when he’s talking about grabbing one of Captain Neil’s friends to lure him out.” He says with a brow raised.
That’s fair.
He figures that Romero hadn’t even noticed FF standing there. FF was incredibly good at just making himself unnoticeable (to Andrew’s occasional great annoyance and to Kevin’s great desire to study him for Exy related purposes).
“You recognized him?” He asks.
FF’s gaze slides to him, “I looked up a lot about the Foxes after I signed.” FF answers before his gaze slides back to the door. Roland had just texted Andrew that he’s getting Romero’s drinks ready (Two bud lites. Those are the celebratory drinks he waited for?? Embarrassing.) “I really looked up to Captain Neil. So, I read a lot more about him than anyone else.” FF admits but the fact that FF looked up to Neil was not in any way shape or form a secret.
FF was the only one who was ALWAYS paying attention to whatever Neil was saying and never argued with it. Even Andrew tended to just get lost in the sound of Neil’s voice when he’s going over Exy plays and not actually listen to the plan. FF’s eyes were always right on Neil and his actions on the court showed that he had been paying attention and knew what he was doing. Kevin also listened but he tended to fight Neil on the finer details of plays, strategy or anything else. FF was the one who would just nod and do his part in whatever possible play Neil had broken down for them.
FF was also categorically incapable of referring to Neil as anything other than Captain Neil.
Neil had bristled early on at it. He had thought it was a mocking title, something FF was saying to rile him up because that’s what Freshman Foxes did. That’s what Freshman Foxes always do. FF slid into the team without a whisper of rebellion and it hadn’t taken long to realize that FF was using the title with sincerity even if his monotone did not perfectly convey that.
It’d been that sincerity and that ease that had FF be the only option he’d considered when Bee said he should consider expanding his friend pool.
So if FF looked a little deeper into Neil’s past and sees Neil’s part in it as something to respect, something to admire?
Well, he personally thought he always had great taste in people. (He ignores the voice in his head that sounds like Nicky complaining about Kevin still not knowing German despite it being the family language.)
“You sure you don’t want one of my knives or the knife Jackson had?” It was pretty big and Andrew didn’t think it would work well with his general style but maybe FF could use it somehow. He was uneasy that FF was going into this fight unarmed. FF still hadn’t talked about how he’d taken out Jackson when the man had a knife like that.
“Do I look like Crocodile Dundee to you?” FF asks with a raised eyebrow and Andrew has to pause a moment for the movie to load into his brain before he offers an amused quirk of his own lips.
FF is a funny guy.
His phone dings. “He’s on his way.”
***
Aside from thinking about how nice the conversation he was having with his friend Andrew (his friend! His friend Andrew! God how is he going to admit to Gran that Andrew was never planning on stabbing him? She threatened to come over and square off with the ‘mean young man’ bullying him. He’s gotta go grab the makings for a secondary pie to even start to make up for this. Maybe Andrew would prefer a cobbler? He should ask his friend his preferences.) he was thinking about how he really wished they hadn’t had a cut away from Gracie Hart showing all the various forms of self defense she knows in the movie.
He had no idea if he could do a repeat performance of S.I.N.G. with Romero.
It’d be nice to have a few more things in his repertoire because all he has is striking Romero with the heel of his hand in the nose, getting grabbed from behind to throw him over his shoulder (which what if Romero is shorter than him? How will THAT work. Gracie Hart guide my steps!), and of course S.I.N.G.
If he survives this he might write a letter to the writer.
The door opens and honestly FF and Andrew agreed that surprise and speed were going to be their best weapons. The two of them go in for a full body tackle but Romero must just be a higher class goon than Jackson was since he manages to body them away. The door shuts which is mostly what they wanted anyways. Romero can’t go back in and grab someone to use as a shield.
He sees Andrew pull out his knives and now FF realizes that any level of threatening Andrew had done before must have mostly been in jest or just as intimidation. When Andrew wants to stab someone it’s obvious that he’s aiming to stab them.
Romero manages to parry Andrew’s first stab with a move that FF had seen on the ‘how to handle someone coming at you with a knife’ videos. FF sees Romero go in to bash one of the Bud Lite bottles over Andrew’s head so he launches his water bottle at Romero’s hand. The bottle falls and shatters harmlessly on the ground.
He kicks Romero’s other hand since the water bottle bought him time to get close. “You fucking brat!” Romero hisses.
He sees Romero reaching for something at the same time Andrew is going in for the second round of stabbing. Romero dodges out of the way but FF can see what might actually for real be an entire gun concealed in his jacket.
He can see Romero going for it. Sees the same smile on his face he’d seen inside as his hand wraps around the handle.
FF doesn’t think.
FF doesn’t think because if he does he’ll freeze.
So FF acts.
“Gun!” He yells and runs full force tackling Romero as hard as he can but unfortunately he tackles Romero into Andrew.
The three of them grapple on the ground. It’s hard to keep track of what limb is who’s and he’s pretty sure he’s accidentally hit Andrew a few times instead of Romero but he’s also pretty sure that Andrew punched him in the stomach so he thinks they’re equal. Finally FF gets a hand on the gun that Romero had been trying to get the safety off of and he knocks it out of Romero’s hand. “You kids will-“
Romero doesn’t get to say anything else because Andrew manages to land a punch right to his jaw that has Romero go limp under the two of them. They look at one another and Andrew manages to pull the handcuffs they’d purloined out of the Van while they were waiting off of the belt loop they were hooked onto and gets them around Romero’s wrists.
They stare down at the second unconscious man on the FBI’s most wanted list in the alley.
Then they roll off of him and onto their backs. Both of them wheezing from a combination of exertion, adrenaline, and (at least in FF’s case) a fair amount of pain (Christ Andrew packs a PUNCH his stomach is already sensitive. It’s a miracle that punch hadn’t made him puke.)
“That was…so stupid.” Andrew pants.
“Yeah probably.” FF admits.
They lay there for about a minute and FF thinks that maybe someone will need to carry him because his stomach is KILLING HIM with all this.
“Alright let’s-“
Andrew is sitting up and looking at him when he stops talking.
FF doesn’t really know what the issue is but starts to sit up, “Don’t you DARE.” Andrew hisses and FF finds himself being pushed back down to the ground to lay flat. “Don’t move Smith.” He demands and is pulling his phone out of his pocket as he keeps a hand on FF’s shoulder.
FF doesn’t really understand what’s got Andrew so upset all the sudden. “Andrew, what’s-“ he tries to sit up again. Is there a third person and Andrew wants him to keep down? There’s not really cover here they should move towards the dumpster maybe?
“Smith, I told you to not move.” Andrew hisses before whoever he’s calling seems to pick up. “I need police and an ambulance. We’re at Eden’s Twilight in the back alley.” He looks to FF, “What’s your blood type?” He asks.
FF has NO idea.
“I don’t know.” He answers and Andrew makes a disgusted sound. “Andrew, what’s-“
Then he sees it.
He doesn’t quite get how he missed it before now.
“Huh.” He hears himself say.
That’s Andrew’s knife handle sticking out of his stomach.
It appears that Andrew Minyard may have stabbed him in the stomach.
“Well, that’s about what I expected.” He says and lets his head rest against the pavement.
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
Per your requests:
@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie
@theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin
The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
#Fluent Freshman AU#He was RIGHT all along.#The Cassandra of Anxiety#He just kind of had no idea that it would be an accident#Vote now on FF's blood type#I will just say this now that this is not going to be a story where FF dies and Andrew's upset#This is me thinking that this is kind of a funny way for this night to end considering everything#If FF had a phone he would absolutely text his gran on the ambulance ride over#FF: SO I WAS BOTH COMPLETELY WRONG AND RIGHT#FF: Andrew wants to be my friend but due to bizarre circumstances he sure did accidentally stab me tonight#FF: BTW do YOU know my bloodtype? Because the nice EMT lady keeps asking me if I'm sure I don't know.#But FF doesn't have a phone so maybe he drifts a lil closer to the afterlife for a comedic reunion with great gran#GG: You're going to be okay. There's no way you'll die in a fight against a man who doesn't wash his hands#FF: I'm scared to check the state of his skin behind his ears.#GG: Exactly#AFTG#AFTG Fic#AFTG AU#AFTG OC#My Fic#Let's see if you all can find all the various lil jokes that I've made knowing that THIS#THIS is how this night was always gonna end for FF#I've gotten a kick out of putting them in#FF - Pt.21
403 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! I saw that your requests are open so if I may can I request headcanons for Nanami and Gojo when reader is pregnant? Like some random moments as well as how they act during the whole thing from telling them about the pregnancy! Also congratulations on thsu milestone!
Thank you and have a good day/night <3
AGH YAY I LOVE THIS thank u so much for sending this in!!!!
CW: I guess a lil nsfw, f!Reader, soft as hell, suggestive themes
✭ Pixie’s 1.5k Follower Celebration - send in headcanon requests! ✭
✵ NANAMI ✵
✵ you and kento had definitely been planning for a child, and actively trying. He was actually the one to suggest a baby at first, you’d been married for 2 years and he had always wanted to be a father.
✵ 100% the kind of man who would have you both taking fertility vitamins to help encourage a healthy pregnancy.
✵ safe to say - babymaking was the highlight for you both. The thought of you having his child drove this man insane (nanami breeding kink go brrr) he was literally insatiable.
✵ He was actually the one to sense you were pregnant, you had been feeling under the weather for a day or two, not thinking much of it since you’d been trying for only 2 months and it was November. But, then Kento brought you both home some delicious ramen from a local market and the smell had you SPRINTING to the bathroom. When he was done holding back your hair, he opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a test.
✵ When the two very strong lines appeared you jumped into your husbands arms as he spun you in a circle, whispering sweet nothings.
✵ During your pregnancy, Kento would not let you lift a finger. He was on you with your prenatal vitamins, smoothies, foot rubs, every type of Lamaze class you could think of
✵ god the other women in the Lamaze class were just fawning over your husband, arm around your swollen waist, attentive to every moment you make (and those muscles under his well fitted sweater helped)
✵ he made sure to read to your baby every night, as well as rubbing lotion into your bump to help the stretching skin.
✵ builds the crib and nursery furniture himself (from scratch), and helps you paint and prepare.
✵ you both decide on Yuuji as godfather
✵ just so prepared to be a dad man, literally came pre assembled as a father.
✵ Gojo ✵
✵ k SO one of two situations, yay surprise baby or you guys had like an ‘if it happens it happens’ situation going on, no pressure or planning
✵ I think Satoru had been scared to be a father at first, but then he realised that love isn’t a curse, and the love you two have is so powerful it can create a whole other person, not even his six eyes can do that.
✵ there’s no need for a pregnancy test , you come home one day and he freezes - you had been gone when he woke up that morning, a mission an hour or two away but short and easy. You got back around noon, and giggle at your husbands surprised face.
✵“baby, it’s … it’s not just you. i can see them.”
✵“okay mr. I can see dead people what are you on about?”
✵ he just lays a big hand over your still-flat belly, and you gasp, realising what he means. He can see the tiny amount of cursed energy coming from your womb. A combination of his and yours makes for a powerful residual. The little dot pulsed along with what he presumed was the baby’s heart.
✵“are you serious? please don’t joke ‘Toru”
✵ “shush, you’ll wake up our baby.”
✵ you both drop to your knees and he wraps his big long arms around you
✵ “we’re having a baby ‘Toru.”
✵ he warps you both straight into shokos office and by your teary smile and Satoru’s beaming face she just says congrats and pulls out the ultrasound machine.
✵ you’re 6 weeks along, “hey lil’mochi, this is your momma, and I’m papa, but she calls me dadd-”
✵ SPOILS YOU
✵ immediately you both go to the shop, baby clothes, toys, plushies, a whole new family car.
✵ literally ridiculous
✵ plans the biggest baby shower, he’s just so happy
✵ a little scared he won’t be a good enough dad but you shut that down straight away
✵ any and all cravings are catered to
✵ gets even more handsy and insatiable during your pregnancy, just seeing you swollen with HIS child makes him fucking FERAL
✵ PARENTING BOOKS
✵ at night, sits and chats with your bump, head laying on your lap facing the bump, your hands in his hair, usually stories of how he met you, embarrassing little megumi, how he annoys Uncle Nanamin, how awesome he is
✵ has planned an entire emergency plan for you and the baby, it’s eased his mind. He didn’t tell you, just put precautions in place.
✵ draws faces on your bump
✵ helps you bathe and shower and washes your hair because ‘Mrs. Gojo deserves whatever she wants.’
✵ fights with the higher ups and threatens them so much that they give you both a years parental leave, more if needed. Scary man <3
✵ has lists as long as him of name ideas, does not shut up about all the things he wants to do
✵ constantly posting and sharing photos of ‘pretty mama’
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#jjk#gojo fluff#anime#dad!gojo#gojo headcanons#gojo hcs#nanami headcanons#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami hc#jjk headcanons#pixie’s 1.5k follower celebration#family formations drabbles
679 notes
·
View notes
Text
weathering
◇ characters ◇ husband!zhongli, baby!xiao
◇ tags ◇ afab!reader, fem!pronouns, mention & implication of pregnancy (reader), children, xiao (tries) to call you “mama”, angst to fluff, heartwarming domestic fluff
◇ a/n ◇ last submission for my ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ϟᴜᴘᴇʀᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ collab
disclaimer: i don’t have a child, and i won't pretend i know how it feels to have one. this won’t be 100% accurate. however - i have first-hand lived with one and witnessed the calmest person on earth snap from all the stress that is caused by child-rearing, so…
𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
[ 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ]
you think you and zhongli make for a harmonious couple.
if you were asked to describe your relationship in a word, you would choose ‘steady’. it has always felt as such ever since you were friends, stayed as it is when you started courting each other, throughout your stage of falling in love with each other’s flaws and strengths, and persisted through your engagement and your newlywed stage.
of course, you’ve had fights - from petty ones that make you roll your eyes in exasperation, to bigger ones that made you temporarily move out to your friend’s house for several days to reevaluate your relationship, you had them all. they all ended in the same way, every single time: reconciliation, deep conversations, promises to do better, and tons of affection to make up for the lost time. your relationship is most definitely not perfect, but you’d like to think that it’s healthy and open and, as quoted by your friends, “couple goals”.
but nothing that you’ve experienced so far prepared you for the hectic, sleepless, and insanely stressful life that is being a parent.
and to think you thought pregnancy was the worst. ha ha.
“- he doesn't want to eat, he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to see you, he doesn’t want his stories, his diaper is clean - i just - i don’t know what to do!”
you had to shout into the phone, seeing as your baby is quite literally screeching his head off in the background, the shrill sound further amplifying your stress headache and breaking your tired heart.
your husband hums in affirmation over the phone, and the background sound of people talking from his side suddenly disappeared. normally, you would have felt bad at interrupting his meetings, especially since you know it’s vital for him to be there, but you’re too far gone at this point - your patience has its limit and it seems like you’ve reached the bottom of the bar.
“calm down, dear.”
“how am i supposed to calm down?! i’ve never seen him throwing this kind of tantrum!! what if - what if something’s wrong - should i go to the doctor? i can’t tell if he has a fever, his whole face is so red and i can’t even touch him because the last time i tried he screamed harder and choked and i was so scared i-”
“[name].”
“i don’t know what to do,” you sob, tears falling down your cheeks, “i can’t do this anymore…”
“of course you can. listen to me, love. everything is going to be okay.”
“will it though?”
“of course. i’m here too. let us tackle this problem together, just like how we always do.”
“….. okay…”
“thank you, dearest. did you try giving him his dragon plushie?”
“he threw it across the living room.”
“hm. strong arms, like his father.”
you sniffle and laugh weakly at his words.
“maybe he missed menogias?”
“their family is on vacation right now,” you wince when xiao throws another one of his soft toys - a limited edition spear gifted by your husband’s friend who runs the biggest toy factory in the whole country - successfully knocking over the untouched bowl of food you made for him before.
another thing to put in the washer, another ruined food, another thing to clean up. wonderful.
“ah, i remember. australia, i believe. i heard it’s magpies season. hopefully they’re staying safe from the birds.”
“who cares about that right no-” you pause.
“….. dear? what’s wrong?” zhongli’s concerned voice snaps your attention back to the phone momentarily.
still keeping your gaze on your son, whose wide golden eyes are also looking straight at you, you whisper into the gadget, as if you’re afraid he’d go back to crying the moment you said something, “he stopped crying.”
“…… xiao?”
the boy blinks and switches his stare at your phone silently, where the voice of his father is addressing him from.
“do you want to talk with daddy?”
his nose scrunches and despite knowing it’s not zhongli’s fault, you snapped at your husband, “no! no he doesn't!!!”
“ah,” another hum, “then, perhaps a keyword… australia? magpie? safe?”
xiao's golden eyes narrow. you whisper a soft ‘no’.
“birds?”
like magic, your son’s expression lights up like a christmas tree. within seconds, he’s waddling towards you, latching onto your leg, teary eyes staring up at you in expectation. you’re sitting still on the dining chair in shock. literally minutes ago he did not want you to touch him at all.
“is that not it?”
“i…. no, i think….,” you hurriedly wiped your tears away and abandoned the phone on the table in favor of hoisting the toddler up to your lap, “birds? you…. you want to see the birds?”
xiao blinks one, twice, and then nods.
you sigh in relief as you wiped the tear tracks on his chubby cheeks. zhongli chuckles.
“will you be alright now, my dear?”
“ah…. yes. i think so.”
“alright. skip the cooking for us tonight, i’ll come back early with your favorites. i love y-”
a small sweaty palm punches your phone’s screen, effectively disconnecting the call. you give the young boy an unimpressed look. he looks back at you innocently before starting to suck on his thumb.
your house resides on one of the higher terrains, along with a great view of the lakes and forests in the distance. this, fortunately, means that you have a lot of trees and birds for your little one’s viewing pleasure. the moment you step out onto the balcony of your second story’s bedroom, xiao starts to bounce excitedly within your arms before settling down, eyes transfixed on the group of avians perched by the nearby trees.
“bub?”
“……,” you exhale shakily, chants the name of the deities above inside your head, and gives him a shaky, weak smile, “yes, love. those are birds.”
[ 𝑔𝑒𝑜 ]
your doorbell chimes right as xiao accepted the first mouthful of his dinner. the toddler glares towards the direction of the front door, as if silently saying ‘who dares to disturb my meal’, and you chortle in amusement.
“coming!”
after giving a few pats on top of his dark-colored hair, you’re immediately running towards the front door in record speed, intent to turn away whatever salesman you have on the front steps by slamming the door on their face if you have to, because your baby needs his food, darn it.
cautiously, you squint through the peephole.
the sight makes you frown in bewilderment.
instead of some slimy-looking salesman, outside stood your husband in his immaculate work clothes, waiting to be let in like some kind of a lost puppy.
did he forget his key, perhaps? you chuckle in amusement. knowing how often he forgets his wallet, it’s only a matter of time until he forgets his keys, you suppose. with that in mind, you unlock the latches and open the door, a greeting at the tip of your tongue-
the sweet scent of flowers envelops your scent and the entirety of your sight, and you find yourself staring down at a massive bouquet of flowers, tastefully arranged, all freshly bloomed with no single imperfection on their colorful petals and trimmed stems.
“…… huh?”
zhongli chuckles, finding the lost expression on your face endearing. your hands might have instinctively accepted the gift, but it appears your brain has yet to catch up with your body.
“i’m home, dear.”
“w-welcome home? but what-”
“can’t a husband spoil his wife without any reason every now and then?”
“yes? no? i mean-” you want to hit yourself for stumbling and bumbling around like some kind of a high schooler in love, and the entertained laugh from your husband makes you smile in both embarrassment and the sudden happiness that enveloped your whole being. despite already being married, the follow-up kiss to your cheek makes your heart jump and your grin widen.
“may i come in now, dearest?”
you eye your husband with a huff and arch your eyebrows coyly, “hmm. persuade me.”
zhongli doesn’t even hesitate or look surprised at your antics, merely sporting the same gentle smile as he places a proper kiss on your lips this time. now you’re actually giggling like a high school girl, and yet your partner isn’t even fazed, soft lips tracing your jawline, fingers brushing back your hair-
a loud clatter makes the both of you jump, and you would have been touched by the instinctive hold zhongli immediately has on your arm, if not for the sight of disaster in your peripherals.
xiao has, somehow, reached onto the plate of food you set aside for him, and while you were both reliving your honeymoon dating phase (not that you've ever grown completely out of it, according to your friends), had taken the liberty to try and shove the food onto his mouth with his own hands…. keyword here being ‘try’.
the bowl of food lays sadly on the floor, its content spilled against the white tiles.
within seconds, your son starts crying, and the two of you scramble to tag team the situation; with you tending to xiao and zhongli tending to the flowers and locking up the door.
right. gone were the long relaxing beach walks and uninterrupted sweet moments.
….. and yet, as you’re cleaning up the food spills around the baby chair and catch the sight of your now-husband silently patting a sleepy little boy whose belly is now full of food, you think that this kind of life too, has its own unique moments of happiness.
[ 𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑜 ]
“maa…”
you feel a tug on your hair and groan.
“mah….?”
your eyes squint, heavy eyelids struggling to open, something within you forces you to push through it. wake up, your instinct says. your brain lags, and it’s so easy to just fall back asleep, but-
“maaaaaa!!!”
you sit up at record speed, vision bleary yet immediately alerted at the piercingly loud noise and familiar voice of your baby. instinctively, your arms gather the smaller body of the toddler despite the exhaustion weighing your whole being.
“mmah.”
“yes, baby. mama’s he-” tiny hands push your cheek away and you frown, feeling a little hurt by the rejection, “okay, okay… what is it, xiao?”
he wrestles away from your hug and points at the vase of flowers sitting on the dining table. though the blooms aren't as fresh as the first day you got them from your beloved, they’re still a magnificent sight. not to mention that the size of the bouquet made you separate the flowers into three big vases, and this was just one of them. you understand that your child might be fascinated with the new additional decor to the house, but you really doubt he could carry the whole thing by himself… plus, that sounds very dangerous.
“no no. let’s find another thing to play with, okay, dear?”
xiao gives you a look and stubbornly points towards the flowers again, now slightly frowning.
“no.”
“mahm!”
you sigh, rubbing your temples in exasperation before standing up to approach the table. your little boy follows right behind you, all the while observing your movements, waiting for you to fetch what he wants.
hesitantly, you hold onto the vase in your arms. they’re big. heavy. made of glass. what if it shatters? what if he grabs one of the flowers and they weren’t pruned properly? what if he accidentally stabs himself in the eye with one of the stems??
you really shouldn’t….
xiao latches insistently on your leg, doe eyes looking up at you in excitement.
“gihb!”
with a defeated sigh, you place back the vase onto the table, take one small flower, and give it to your child. he whines and points back to the arrangement on the table. you reluctantly give him two more flowers, slightly bigger than the previous one.
“no more.”
he holds them in his hands and stares at them for a while.
you think he’s going to ask for more, so you opt to sit down on the floor, grabbing the nearest storybook and patting your lap in an invitation, “now that you have the flowers, why don’t you hold them while mama reads you your book, hmm?”
to your utmost befuddlement, instead of obeying, your son looks up at you and lifts the flowers up, before staring at you expectantly.
you smile through the confusion and accept his offering anyway, and you were about to thank him when he determinedly kicks the book away and climbs onto your lap-
-to place a kiss onto your cheek.
....
........
oh.
“are you-” you choke on your words, already feeling tears gathering in your eyes, “-sweetheart, were you trying to copy your father…?”
xiao frowns, seemingly unable to comprehend why you’re not reacting as he expected…. and decides to kiss your other cheek. only, this makes you tear up even more. and he does not like that.
“maamh….”
“oh no no nono darling i’m sorry, mommy’s not sad, not at all!”
you carelessly wipe your tears away when xiao’s nose scrunches, the first sign of tears already showing in his bright-colored eyes. gently, you pull him into a hug and squish his chubby cheeks, peppering loving kisses all over his face with a chest full of warmth and unimaginable joy. the toddler squeaks and squirms on your hold, but you continue to coddle him with affection, for the happy giggles bubbling from his throat clearly reflect his true feelings.
later that night, you tell your husband about the endearing moment, and he laughs in amusement before asking the boy if he could get a flower too.
he gets a freshly laundered spear toy thrown at his knees.
you’ve never felt so smug in your life.
[ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 ]
weathering - the breaking down or dissolving of rocks and minerals on earth’s surface. or in some cases: a phenomenon where strong gusts of wind eventually shape the valley of rocks to create a beautiful and wondrous sight.
© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @clovcly | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#zhongli#xiao#zhongli x reader#familial!xiao x reader#zhongrin.elementalsupercharge#rin writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Platonic tadc cast with a child reader Who is like :
"hey, wanna see me do a cartwheel :D"
Basically very spontaneous and chaotic in the adventures lol
Ty!! (and remember to drink water) ;3
TADC cast x chaotic!kid!reader ! (Platonic)
Guys I'm literally so tired I just got done baking a ton of stuff, like I'm talking 12ish hours of non stop cooking and baking I'm going insane im trying so hard not to fall asleep rn because I kinda. Feel bad for not really answering requests today
Anywahs
Hope you enjoy anon!
Written on mobile
CAINE:
Well well how the turn tables (writing caines portion last for once)
Very similar to kinger and ragatha in that he supports everything you do; in fact he encourages your behavior as long as no one is getting hurt. Very loudly (and sometimes obnoxiously) cheers for you
While kinger can only cheer and clap, I think Caine sets off sparkles and fireworks... probably has a whole group of bubbles cheering you on too , assuming there can be multiple bubbles at any given time (I personally think there can be, and they all share a hivemind of sorts)
So what was the occasion that prompted that?
A wonky cartwheel, of which you excited called "a sideways front flip"
(Fun fact from the admin, I called my first cartwheel that bc I didnt know it was called a cartwheel yet)
POMNI:
Anxious parental figure and hyper child, a dynamic that's hit or miss at least for me. Really it depends on how its executed
That said I think she struggles to keep up with you
Constantly scrambling around you make sure you dont fall into any danger. Literally and figuratively...
Her attempts to get you to sit down for more than five minutes fail
Your ass is failing the marshmallow test/j
RAGATHA:
No thoughts only that one clip from adventure time where BMO pretends to be a wheathervane before trying to nose dive off the roof, all while calling for finns attention. Thats you and ragatha, basically (in essence, not exact scenario though)... maybe zooble too, but we'll get there when we get there (I am currently having a brain blast)
Says things like "what am I gonna do with you" everyday, always lightheartedly of course and usually accompanied by a tired chuckle
Generally very supportive of you though, just so long as you're not hurting yourself! Sure, this is the digital world and injuries dont really stick, but still! The pain is still there
JAX:
I mentioned the marshmallow test in pomnis part and I feel like jax would do something similar with you. Except the test is rigged and the candy (which he uses in place of the marshmallow( is actually for him and not for you. So if you actually earn the extra candy you dont even get it
That said I do think jax would feel bad when you get upset about the joke
Anyways
I think he finds it funny, as long as you're not tugging on his overalls and screaming at him for something, or interfering with his plans
Hes not a neglectful rolemodel/familial figure, he just has a short fuse with the above I think, regardless of who it is, kid or not
That said he fully embraces your spontaneous nature
KINGER:
Peepaw and his grandchild, that's it that's literally the dynamic
"Kinger is only 48-"
Hush♡
"Oh that's so lovely, (reader)" when you run up to him with your hands full of god knows what
Eagerly claps and cheers when you show him a new trick you learned
Bonus if you try to recreate or one up his embellished stories in order to make him proud of you (hes always proud of you)
ZOOBLE:
As mentioned in ragathas part, the wheathervane BMO thing is basically in essence you guys' dynamic. Except where I think ragatha would be quicker to pay attention to you, zooble may be a little slower. Not because they dont care about whatever you're trying to display to them, but because I think a lot of the times they kind of mentally check out (me too honestly)
Tries to scold you if you do something too dangerous or out of line, may come across as way angrier or upset than they actually are though thanks to their voice being kinda
You know
Zooble gives off "cool older sibling who doesnt care about nothing" energy
GANGLE:
Meekly tries to get you to calm down for a few minutes, especially if theres an IHA going on because she doesnt want you to run off and potentially get hurt. Tries to keep you occupied with arts and crafts. Watches in horror as you impulsively eat the glue
Tends to wrap one of her ribbon hands around yours so she knows you're not running off.. this is more so when theres an IHA going on
As per usual not many ideas for gangle <\3
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#caine x reader#pomni x reader#ragatha x reader#jax x reader#kinger x reader#zooble x reader#gangle x reader
127 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sweetsugaryimagines
So imagines huh
nico-zalewski
❤️ Nicola Zalewski ❤️
azzhat
Untitled
renhuuka
It is trifle.
lernzufluchthagennachhilfe
Nachhilfe Hagen NRW