#and yes that includes you even if we only really speak briefly ever month or so

[jusiri]

such is my anxiety that for whatever reason I feel like if I post too many silly little "My friends are awesome and I love them" things that said friends will start to think I'm being

idk the word for it but like over the top or annoying or pandering about it

that I'm just doing it for attention or something

and I don't know why I think that cause i know I wouldn't think that if someone else was doing it

I don't know anxiety is just silly like that

[lakunalaika]

[‼️TW: This post is not sexual content itself however it talks about asexuality and thus also discusses sex.‼️]

Before pride month ends I want to talk about Transformers characters that are on the aroace spectrum!!

I want to clarify that since Cybertonians don't reproduce sexually that makes them all asexual in cannon!

...However the fandom still has a lot of different interpretations and headcannons. Some of these include procreation while others are robots being sexual for the sake of "fun" rather than biology. I personally feel VERY uncomfortable with the idea of sexual reproduction in transformers but fandom is fandom and I am well aware of how it ignores the cannon so this list is made with that in mind.

As for the aromantic part of this post....

Sadly none of those are actually cannon since the creators haven't said anything about it and it's never said out loud in the media these characters are from HOWEVER I feel like most of these are very heavily implied. If you're confused about labels please look them up!

Sorry this post only contains three characters, I'm writing this literally last minute before going to the airport lol. I feel like there are maybe some more that I've missed so you're welcome to comment or reblog if you want to add to the list!

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Shockwave: aromantic, asexual, could be aplatonic in some continuities.

I HAD to start with him. Speaks for itself really, if you're in the fandom you're probably familiar with how little emotion Shockwave expresses in general. Sadly though most people either see him as a completely emotionless monster or make him the super ooc :( He has no interest in sex or romance and some versions of him do not care for platonic bonds either.

The fandom sadly does not understand this, I'm not completely against him being shipped with other characters I just wish it was written properly and with his sexual/romantic orientation in mind. I feel like there's some interesting queer platonic lab partner shipping potential here but again this fandom is terrible at not sexualising him for some reason.

He does show care for others in SOME continuities, in Cyberverse we see that he used to be friends with Wheeljack and possibly some other characters. He does have emotions, even in other shows/media, we see him get visibly angry in TFP and Earthspark. So just saying that he doesn't feel anything is a straight up lie. He follows logic although we do see him make non logical choices when influenced by emotions, it's rare but it has happened.

I'm planning to make more content about him and being aroace spec soon. I want to show people that just because you don't feel forms of attraction or love towards others doesn't mean you're completely heartless. And yes I know an extremely stereotypical evil robot probably isn't the best character to use to prove a point like this but I just need people to stop mischaracterising him.

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Shadowstriker: aromantic, asexual.

[most of this is refering to her in Cyberverse, thought I do mention IDW briefly]

What is it with clearly aroace female characters, usually villains, and being called masc lesbians? No offence to lesbians but please y'all let us have some representation. Sorry pooks she doesn't want a girl, she doesn't want anyone actually. Which doesn't mean she doesn't value friendship, just look at how she interacts with Soundwave and Lazerbeak! That's found family if I've ever seen it!

I think she's someone who struggles a lot with emotions and intimacy just in general, though we do actually see her emotions slipping through the "mask" more towards the end of the show, even being happy [thought it was quite bittersweet] and part of a group hug in the last episode. Well done her for actually accepting physical touch that isn't punching someone in the face! She's a very untrusting character who tends to assume the worst in everyone and is really aggressive for most of the show. She has absolutely no interest in romance or sex and is probably apothisexual/apothiromantic. But as previously stated I think platonic love is really important to her. She's the type of person who would kill for her found family, in fact considering she's a Decepticon she probably has.

She's one of those extremely interesting and emotionally complex characters and yet somehow she's always overlooked. I see people talking about wanting more well written female characters and HERE SHE IS! Honestly I'd recommend watching Cyberverse even if you're just doing it for her, it's worth it. I could write a whole essay all about her. Can y'all tell she's my favourite? Because she is.

As for shipping I do like the idea of her being in a queer platonic ship with Flamewar and Slipstream in the IDW comics they're in, though again, I don't think people know how to write qp relationships...

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TFP Soundwave: demiromantic, asexual.

This one is only specific to one continuity and that's Transformers Prime. Not saying other versions aren't on the spectrum, I have a quite couple headcannons, though I feel they might be a bit ooc/self indulgent so I'm not including them since I'm trying to keep this list as "likely to be cannon" as I can.

In the show he doesn't speak and doesn't really have a face so he doesn't really express himself a lot. Though he still definitely shows emotion, just, differently I guess? He is uninterested in sex, I think he could be in a romantic relationship but it would have to be someone he's already emotionally attached to. Platonic love is extremely important to him but specifically his cassettes, they're his family. Others however.... I feel like he doesn't really care for a lot of the characters in the show but then again he doesn't show emotions much so he could just be hiding it.

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[focsle]

you ever read journals from gay or bi whalers????

Not explicitly, but that’s so often the way of things regarding lgbtq+ history. Are the men whose journals I’ve read who occasionally describe their fellow whalers as fine/good-looking or handsome attracted to them, or simply using complimentary language? Does one man saying he played as another man’s “lady” at a dance during a gam mean anything regarding his identity in relation to other men, or was it simply the language he used to say he danced as the opposite partner in an all-male space? Who knows! Maybe, maybe not. Is a mate goading the men in his boat's crew by saying:

"I love you, my dear fellows, yes, yes, I do; I'll do anything for you, I'll give you my heart's blood to drink"

anything? Dunno! Sure is hot and weird tho!

Scholar Margaret Creighton highlighted one whaler, Elias Trotter, as someone who forged--if not romantic--very close emotional relationships with other men. This included both men he met briefly on gams as well as men aboard his ship.

He described one man, Charles Wheeler, on a gam saying that he ‘drew my attention on account of his manly beauty, activity, and intelligence’, and spent the entire gam speaking with him alone for hours, lamenting at the end the inevitable parting when both ships went on their way. He also developed a close relationship with someone on his ship named Longworth.

Dan W. Everton is a graduate student who spent time researching Trotter, and at a talk highlighted an excerpt of Trotter’s description of Longworth. I found it very poignant and it gives a little bit of insight to one man's perception of another, as well as the specificity of life at sea:

“During the night watches Longworth and myself will paint a pleasing future and will count and cipher out the many days to elapse before we tread our native soil. Will build many castles in the air and then with sober thought will crush them. How truly does sympathy entwine around the heart and produce friendship in its purest, fondest state. How such interchange of thought foments affection? I flatter myself tis even so with us, for, when after these interchanges of thought, of hope, of sympathy I know and feel that the friendship between us grows stronger and more lasting. At sea, there is no formality. Man acts himself and tis here that none has an opportunity of seeing his fellow in all his impurities as well as in all his goodness. I take pride in writing that, in every circumstance and in all duties, Longworth during the last twelve months has shown himself to be one of nature’s noblemen, so kind, so good, so free.”

Since Trotter’s journal hasn’t been digitized I haven’t been able to read it myself since I don't have physical access to the collection it lives in! I'm really hoping that it will be digitized (or fully transcribed) one day though.

The only (very scant) records I’ve seen explicitly regarding same sex activity on whaleships have been non-consensual instances in which there was disciplinary action taken. And that disciplinary action was also in connection with other violence/threats of violence from the man in question that led to his expulsion.

How consensual same sex relations on a whaleship may have been regarded and navigated is a bit of an unknown. But as with any same-sex occupation (especially something as lengthy and isolating as whaling, where one would maybe get liberty ashore every 6ish months) there were undoubtedly going to be same sex acts and partnerships. To say otherwise would be silly, I think. The absence of their mention gives me the sense that it was something people tended to look the other way with (or circumstantially accepted) if parties were consenting, rather than that they just didn’t happen at all. Herman Melville’s ‘oh I love you my fellows’ Moby Dick chapter that’s just an extended mutual masturbation pun has to come from somewhere. And not just from the notion that Melville likely loved men. But uhhh if you want a gay/bi whaler, there’s probably Melville, at the very least.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Zuko x kyoshi warrior Series: Part Five

You meet Zuko’s friends which includes Sokka spilling a fairly large secret and Toph having a very strong reaction to you.

Part One Here

Part Two Here

Part Three Here

Part Four Here

Part Six Here

______

Zuko eased you into meeting his friends. Sokka arrived first a whole day before the others and Zuko arranged for you, him, Suki and Sokka to all have a meal together. You of course had met Sokka a few times due to the fact he was dating Suki but still you appreciated Zuko’s care to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed.

Sokka was just as animated and excitable as you remembered him. He was apparently thrilled you and Zuko were dating. When he saw the two of you enter together he leapt to his feet and rushed forwards “y/n! It’s so good to see you again” he grinned and you smiled “thanks Sokka, you too! So how are you?”. “Great...although I am starving, Zuko can we eat already?”. Zuko chuckled “no greeting for me? Just food requests?”. “I saw you twenty minutes ago, make with the food Firelord!” Sokka commanded and you laughed feeling more comfortable around Sokka already.

The evening went swimmingly. Sokka was very charismatic and he had a habit of putting everyone around him at ease. So the conversation flowed and you soon thought of Sokka as a friend. After dinner you all sat around talking for a while before Sokka had another request of Zuko. “So...you still in touch with your tea making days?”. Zuko paused “is that your way of asking me to make you a cup of tea?”. Sokka nodded “yes but my way was totally more subtle”. Again you all chuckled and Zuko stood up in defeat. “Fine, i’ll go get us some tea”. “I’ll help” Suki smiled and you went to stand too but Zuko told you to stay and enjoy yourself.

You and Sokka watched them leave before you began chatting about polar bear dogs and if Sokka had ever seen one before. Halfway through the conversation Sokka paused. "You know you're...no never mind” Sokka trailed off and you paused. There had been an abundance of wine and you could tell by Sokka’s rosy cheeks it had affected him making him slightly tipsy. So naturally you were curious to hear what he thought about you with his current lack of filter so you encouraged him and he laughed "no I...just you're not what I thought you’d be like. You're nothing like Mai". You paused unsure if that was good or not. "Really? How?" you asked. You’d obviously met Mai briefly fighting team Azula and you’d heard a lot about her but the girl was still an enigma to you. "Well Zuko and Mai were a lot more reserved. They were more private and didn’t really interact with one another... for example Zuko put his arm around you at dinner, he wouldn’t have done that with Mai. Or flirt with her in front of us but with you he couldn’t seem to help it. They were always very separate in public but the two of you...Zuko is well and truly lovesick. He's utterly in love". You blinked surprised "you think? But we’ve only been dating 2 months". "Yeah but he liked you before he asked you outright? I'm telling you y/n that’s what the difference is. He loved Mai but he’s in love with you. The two are very different things". You blushed pleased and Sokka hiccuped reminding you he was quite tipsy. "Would you like some water?" you asked and Sokka nodded "yes please".

Suki and Zuko returned with the tea and you couldn’t help but blush every time you looked at Zuko. Could what Sokka said be true? Had Zuko really fallen for you that hard? After you’d all retired for the evening, you and Zuko went on your nightly walk and Zuko turned to you. "So what did you think of Sokka?". "He’s nice" you laughed "I don’t think I’ve ever met a person like him". Zuko nodded "that’s certainly the truth! When Suki and I came back in from getting the tea the two of you appeared to be having a deep conversation. You had a blush on your cheeks and you were both speaking very quietly, what did he say?". You blushed again "ow nothing...". Zuko raised an eyebrow "then why are you blushing even now?". You sighed "it was just stuff about you...and us". Zuko paused and you sighed again "he was basically just telling me he likes us together, I seem to make you happy etc. It was very sweet". Now Zuko was the one blushing "of course Sokka got drunk and did that! I hope it wasn’t too full-on?". You shook your head "not at all! It was rather nice to hear what he thinks my effect on you has been, the changes he’s noted in you". Zuko blushed "and what did Sokka say had changed?". You paused "I think I'll keep that between Sokka and I" with a wide smirk. You saw the look in Zuko’s eye and skipped away from him or well you tried to. Zuko caught your hand pulling you back to him. You laughed as he pulled you so close you were resting against his chest and wrapped his arms securely around your waist. He smiled down at you mischievously "you really won’t tell me? Even when I have you utterly trapped?". You shook your head and pecked his cheek "ask Sokka". Zuko sighed before dropping his hands from you "that smirk of yours will be the death of me". You grinned "that’d be a nice way to go". Zuko shrugged “you know what, it would” making you laugh.

The next day all of Zuko’s friends arrived. The Avatar recognised you on sight and rushed forwards to greet you. He was so friendly and kind. Then the water bending expert Katara was there too and she was beyond welcoming. The second you could you turned to Zuko “okay I see why you switched sides for him, he’s adorable and i’d die for him or Katara”. Zuko laughed “they’re wonderful aren’t they?”. You nodded “such a wonderful couple, i’m really pleased they found each other. I couldn’t picture them with anyone else, they’re just so well suited”. Zuko nodded “my thoughts exactly”.  

Toph Beifong was a bit different. Her reputation preceded her but the real thing surpassed even that. Toph walked into the room confidently, punched Zuko in the shoulder in greeting and then nodded to you. She made quite the entrance and you took a liking to her immediately. Due to the fact you were both from the Earth Kingdom the two of you had a lot in common and you soon got caught up with Toph slating your nation. “I just think our people have taken our element a bit far. Sure they can look like they’ve been hit by a rock but do they have to act like it too?” you asked. Toph burst out laughing and seemed to like your dry sense of humour. She slapped you on the back and confused you slapped her lightly back and she smiled “you know, you’re alright!” which you took as a huge compliment.

The others thought so too. When Toph left for the bathroom the others turned to you. "Well I think you've got the Beifong seal of approval" Sokka commented and you smiled "you think?". The others all nodded "I haven’t seen anyone make her laugh on a first meeting...unless Sokka screaming in fear counted" Katara grinned. “I didn’t scream! It was more of a yelp because she earth bent is over the wall!” Sokka cried. You smiled "we’re definitely coming back to this story but in any case I'm honoured. I think Toph’s amazing, you all are. Zuko has really good friends". The group all blushed and smiled, things were going very well.

Zuko’s friends stayed for a few days and you managed to bond with all of them. You loved animals and spent a whole day helping Aang pamper Appa. Appa remembered you from the time you and your warrior sisters saved him and he was very affectionate. Aang even let you fly him and you didn’t stop talking about how amazing Appa was for the rest of the day making Aang a very proud airbender. With Sokka you soon found the two of you could just talk endlessly, something which Sokka seemed to enjoy very much. Your favourite topics were the four nations and how you’d improve current designs. You found Katara so inspiring and loved hearing how she’d dismantled the patriarchy literally everywhere she went. You asked her for tips on how to do the same in the Earth Kingdom and the two of you created some action plans and agreed to always support one another in your endeavours for equality. Then there was Toph Beifong. Apparently Toph didn’t often take to people but when she did, she took hard. The two of you were usually seated beside one another at all meals and you spoke about everything from the differences between your towns to how she felt about her disability. When Toph found out you could earth bend but had never been trained she was very excited to train you. You knew that was a huge deal, Toph Beifong was the greatest earth bender in all the four nations after all and you couldn’t pass that up. You agreed enthusiastically and Toph told you to stop by her school any time.

As the days of the gang’s departure got closer you grew sad they’d be leaving you but were thrilled at how excellent everything had gone. One thing was lingering on your mind however and as you and Zuko returned from your night walk you asked Zuko if you could talk to him privately and he agreed.  He led you into his room before turning to you nervously. "It’s nothing bad” you assured him “just I was thinking of taking Toph up on her offer to train". Zuko visibly relaxed and smiled "that sounds like a good idea". "I was thinking of leaving with her after this" you admitted and Zuko paused. "For no reason other than it seems convenient. I don’t have a job right now and she said she’s got some spare time so it seems like a perfect time. I promise this isn’t me running away from the Fire Nation". "Are you sure? Because I can totally understand if it was, I have experience with that" Zuko joked. You chuckled but shook your head "of course not. You're here so why would I ever want to run away from that?". Zuko smiled and you held his hand "so is it okay if i go?". Zuko nodded "of course! You don’t need my permission y/n". "I know but I want you to be okay with me going and I was nervous because well... you’d tell me it now was a bad time to leave or if you were in any danger wouldn’t you?". Zuko nodded "of course" and pulled you in for a hug "I promise I'll be right here when you come back. Alive and well". "You better be" you nodded "I've become quite fond of you". "Well as your boyfriend I have to say I'm happy to hear that" Zuko replied and you laughed. "You know that's just my way of saying I really like you Zuko. A lot". Zuko blushed "I like you a lot too. I never expected to feel this happy with anyone and with you it’s effortless...saying I like you a lot feels redundant. I’m crazy for you y/n” Zuko told you gazing at you intently. Zuko lightly brushed your cheek “so go and enjoy your training with Toph. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you return. I’m not going anywhere”. The look in Zuko’s eyes made you break first and you crashed into him but Zuko wasn’t far behind you. He gripped you tightly and kissed you back passionately. Both of you continued, neither of you wanting to stop or slow down and so you didn’t.

You woke up the next morning feeling happy and warm. The latter was explained by Zuko and the blankets. You relaxed into his arms and prepared to fall back to sleep when Zuko spoke. “what time’s your ship?” he asked. “Not until noon, why you got plans?”. “Yes, lay in bed all morning until you leave”. You laughed “that’s a good idea...why are you looking at me like that?”. Zuko had been staring at you with a serious expression that you hadn’t seen on his face before. Zuko blushed “I know what word I should’ve said last night, I know how to describe my feelings for you...I love you y/n”. Despite Sokka’s hints and skirting around the subject, Zuko saying those words made you feel unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. You were inescapably happy and felt so lucky. You blushed going bright red and just wanted to hold onto Zuko and never let go. “Wow hearing you say that is just...it makes me so happy I can’t even describe the it” you smiled “I love you too Zuko”. Zuko’s face lit up and he grinned “I think I know the feeling” and he kissed you excitedly.

Exactly on time you and Zuko arrived at the air pad hand in hand. You had your belongings and helped load them onto the ship like last time. Some guards were coming along with you (Zuko was worried Azula might target you again) but otherwise it was a small group. Zuko said goodbye to all his friends before he turned to you. “So i’ll see you in a month or so?”. You nodded “unless you need me, if anything happens just let me know and I’ll be back”. Zuko smiled “that is very comforting...if you need anything just let me know. I’ll miss you”. “I’ll miss you too” you smiled kissing him softly. When you broke away Zuko sighed pressing his forehead to yours “stay safe”. “You too” you smiled softly and stepped away to go with the others.

Zuko stayed to watch the ship leave and waved the entire time. His words to you that morning kept coming back to you and you waved back even long after he was out of sight. Love had hit you both hard...now onto the earth bending!

[sunshineandaisies]

Dirty Paws & Wet Kisses

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU)

Words: ~3.7k

Warnings: language, floofs and fluff

Note: if you ever read anything written by me that includes dogs, their names will always be kinda extra or related to historical figures (i.e. my dog is actually named Theodore Roosevelt) and I will try my best to make their names increasingly extra with every fic that involves dogs

You’d argue that your four year old sheperd mix was the most well behaved dog in all of New York until your dying breath.

Most days.

During your weekly trips to the park on Sunday afternoons, she would sit at your feet, lounging in the sun as she watched joggers go by and playfully saying hello to anyone - be they human or dog - that stopped by to pet the pretty pup while you read whatever book you’d picked up from the bookstore earlier that week.

Sure, there were a few times that she would whine and stare down any squirrel that strayed too close to her, but she never left your side.

Maybe that’s why you had grown so complacent, why you’d stopped looping her leash around the bench to secure her to your side and simply kept the leash within your reach beside you on the seat of the bench.

And it was because of that complacency that you were sprinting across the park, chasing your naughty dog and drawing judgemental stares from other park-goers.

“Hazel!” you called after her. “Hazel, I swear to god I’m taking all your toys away when we get home!” Right after you took a nice long bath to soothe your aching muscles. When was the last time you’d run this much?

You lost sight of her when she disappeared around a hedge, and the internal panic that set in was almost worse than the time that you accidentally emailed your creative writing professor the Harry Potter fanfiction you’d written instead of your final paper. (You still got an A on the assignment, but that’s besides the point).

You see her as soon as you round the corner, happily licking at a stranger’s face as she sat between his legs, and-

Holy shit, your dog led you to the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

The stranger took note of you before you had a chance to say anything, and he raised his brow at you while angling his face away from Hazel’s kisses. “Does this belong to you?” he asked, pinching the tags on Hazel’s collar between his thumb and two fingers. “Hazelnut Mocha.” He snorted. “Is that your dog’s name or your Starbucks order?”

You weren’t sure if it was the amused smile that curled his lips or the quirk of his brow, but his teasing made you feel personally attacked. You crossed your arms across your chest. “Maybe it’s both.”

He shrugged, scratching the spot behind Hazel’s ear. “I suppose that’s one way to never forget your dog’s name or your coffee order.”

You hummed noncommittally before approaching and tugging Hazel away from the handsome stranger. It took considerably more effort than you had thought it would. “I’m really sorry about her,” you apologized. “She’s never like this. I don’t really know what happened.”

He brushed your apology off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. If a cute girl wants to give me kisses, I certainly won’t complain.” He winked at you, and you wanted to just melt on the spot.

“Well, uh, I should, um-” You cleared your throat, stepping away and dragging a disappointed Hazel along with you. “Again, I’m really sorry. Even if you didn’t mind.”

You turned and hurried away before his smile made your mind any more frazzled.

Two weeks passed before you decided to show your face at the park again, and this time, you were sure to secure Hazel’s leash to your bench, ensuring that there would be no chases across the park and embarrassing encounters with handsome strangers.

The pup resigned herself to her fate and laid at your feet in the grass, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her golden eyes shining in the sunlight. She greeted the other dogs that passed, and you thought nothing of it until you heard someone call her name.

Well, shit. You knew that voice. That voice had haunted your dreams for three nights straight after the incident two weeks ago.

“How have you been, pretty girl?” he asked, and you hesitantly lifted your gaze from your book to see him knelt in front of you, patting Hazel’s head as she yipped happily and dragged her tongue over his face in sloppy kisses.

Despite your proclivity to stare at handsome men that showered your dog with attention, your eyes were dragged away from the pair when a wet nose nudged your leg. “Well hello there,” you greeted the brown and white dog that sought your attention. You quickly marked your page and returned your book to your bag before petting your newest furry companion. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Bucky,” the stranger answered.

You glanced up at him briefly before turning your attention back to the brown and white dog. “Aren’t you a handsome boy, Bucky. Yes, you’re so handsome,” you cooed. The stranger chuckled, and you glanced up expecting to see Hazel mauling him with more sloppy kisses, but instead, he was staring at you, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “What?”

“I’m Bucky,” he clarified before nodding towards the dog. “That’s Dodger.”

“And you just assumed that I was talking about you when I called him handsome?”

And in complete contrast to how he had acted in your previous interaction, he actually looked embarrassed, nervously scratching the back of his neck while fending off even more kisses from Hazel. “I seem like a complete asshole, don’t I?” he asked sheepishly.

You laughed. “Well, I mean… Don’t let this go to your head or anything, but I suppose you are kind of handsome, too. You know, in a handsome stranger kind of way.” You felt your cheeks flood with warmth, and you averted your gaze, hoping he didn’t see just how flustered you were after your admission. You tried to breeze past it altogether by giving all of your attention to Dodger once again, petting him and praising him for being such a sweet boy.

After a moment of you and Bucky speaking only to each other’s dogs, you cleared your throat and commented, “I didn’t realize you had a dog. Was he at the park with you the day that Hazel practically assaulted you?”

“He’s not my dog.”

You blinked. “Oh. Is he your girlfriend’s dog?”

And just like that, all hints of embarrassment disappeared from his face. He quirked a brow and smirked at you. “My girlfriend?”

“Or boyfriend,” you added hastily.

He snorted and shook his head. “It depends on who you ask.”

You cocked your head to the side, and the action conjured up an image of Hazel doing the same whenever you would try to hold an actual conversation with her. “Uh, what?”

His gaze flitted to the ground as he smiled an amused little smile that had you biting your lip and shamelessly staring at the man. “It’s a bit of a joke among my friends,” he began. “Dodger is my buddy Steve’s dog. Some of our friends like to make it seem like we’re dating, but we definitely aren’t. We just know each other way too well.” His smile widened when he looked back up at you. “So to answer the question that you indirectly asked-”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What?”

“-I’m single, sweetheart.”

You gaped at him, trying to form an appropriate response. This man was frustrating - frustratingly handsome, frustratingly smug, frustratingly able to read you like a goddamn open book. How dare he correctly assume you were trying to figure out if he was single or not?

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted your thought process, and Bucky gave you an apologetic look after glancing down at his phone. “I gotta take this,” he told you. You heard him greet the other person on the other end of the call before calling for Dodger. As he turned to go, he paused for a moment, pressed the phone against the front of his shirt to muffle the receiver, and called over his shoulder. “See you around, Hazel and Hazel’s mom.”

Right. You never gave him your name.

You were cursing yourself for nearly a month for not getting his phone number before he disappeared, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you had a smidge of hope that you’d run into him at the park again... But alas, no luck.

You were starting to think that you’d never see your handsome park stranger - although, he wasn’t really a stranger anymore, was he? - but exactly 37 days after your last encounter with Bucky (aka handsome park stranger), Hazel brought you back together in the most heart attack inducing way she could manage.

You’d been sitting on the patio of your favorite little cafe, catching up with Carol and Val over coffee and fluffy pastries, and Hazel had been behaving herself aside from the occasionally whining and begging when any of you would touch your food.

She was behaving until she wasn’t.

You still don’t really know what set her off, but one moment she was sitting prettily and staring up at you with her golden eyes and the next she was breaking free from her leash and sprinting down the street and out of your sight.

You posted on social media asking everyone to be on the lookout for your Hazel and called your friends to help you search for her. You spent hours walking up and down the city streets and through the park that you frequented with Hazel. You called all of the shelters and animal control to see if anyone had brought Hazel to them instead of calling you. You talked to anyone and everyone that you passed on the street, asking if they’d seen your girl.

You tried so much to get your girl back, but nothing panned out.

You were in tears and your feet were sore from walking all over the goddamn city by the time you and the others returned to your apartment, resigned to wait for someone to contact you. Just as you were about to say goodnight to everyone and turn in for the night (read: cry yourself to sleep), your phone rang, and an unfamiliar number flashed across the screen. You shushed your friends and answered the phone.

Please be someone who found Hazel. Please be someone who found Hazel. Please be someone who found Hazel.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of his voice, and for a moment you forgot that you had just been on the verge of a panic attack. “Take a deep breath for me, okay. I can practically feel you panicking through the phone. I have Hazel. She’s okay.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, nodding at your friends in response to their questioning looks. “Thank you so much, Bucky. Is she okay? Where did you find her? Should I meet you somewhere?”

He chuckled. “She’s fine. A little dirty, but she’s fine. As for where I found here...Well, I think your dog has a little crush on me, sweetheart.”

You grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and slipped it on before grabbing your keys. “What does that mean?”

“I came home and found her wandering around the courtyard at my apartment.” He sounded far too amused with the situation, and you definitely weren’t feeling up to dealing with his smug attitude. “She certainly made herself at home here. I may need to fight for shared custody after this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just tell me where I should meet you.”

“I’ll send you my address.”

And just as he had told you, as soon as you ended the call, he shared his location with you. You swiftly assured Carol and Val that Hazel was okay, and you asked them to lock up when they left before beginning your walk to Bucky’s apartment.

Ten minutes later, you were sat on the floor of his living room, holding Hazel close to you and alternating between scolding her and telling her how much you love her as you tried to hold your tears at bay. Bucky sat on the couch, arms rested on his knees as he watched the teary-eyed reunion with a small smile curling his lips.

“You know, sweetheart,” he spoke up, drawing your attention away from Hazel, and you finally noticed the muddy paw prints on the front of his white tee. “I’m not much of a dog-person but-”

You gasped, covering Hazel’s floppy ears. “How dare you say such nonsense in front of Hazel!” You pressed a kiss between her eyes, whispering, “It’s okay, girl. Bucky didn’t mean it.”

“I did,” he countered, chuckling when you glared at him. “I’m more of a cat-person, but I suppose I can make an exception for Hazel. After all, she seems pretty attached to me. Not that I can blame her.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “She has awful taste in men,” you teased.

“I don’t know,” he argued. “People say that dogs are impeccable judges of character.”

You stood, dusting your jeans off and turned to face Bucky. “Thank you,” you told him, the sincerity clear in your voice. “I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t find her. I- I seriously owe you. Whatever you want, just name it.”

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and you immediately regretted your offer. “What about shared custody of Hazel?”

“Whatever you want that’s not that, just name it,” you amended.

“What about a date?” he asked instead.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you gaped like a fish, mouth opening and closing, opening and closing, over and over again as you tried to form a response. You certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He watched you with curious eyes, waiting patiently for your answer. Finally, the gears in your brain began to turn again and you answered, “As flattered as I am, I’m not really looking to date right now.”

Disappointment flashed across his features, but he smiled and all trace of disappointment was gone in an instant. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You don’t owe me anything for being a decent person and making sure Hazel got back to you.”

You smiled softly at him, your fingers carding through Hazel’s fur. “Thank you, Bucky. Really.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

After that night - and after you and Bucky officially had each other’s numbers - you and he would text throughout the week, and you often sent him pictures of Hazel being increasingly goofy as the days wore on. You’d even invited him to the park one Sunday to see Hazel again, but he’d quickly turned you down, asking for a rain check.

He had a date, after all.

So instead, you took Hazel to the park and sent him pictures of the pretty pup lounging in the sunshine, greeting other dogs that passed by, and even licking the camera lens on your phone when she finally noticed you holding your phone out towards her to get the perfect angle. A smile never failed to appear on your face every time he sent a heart eyes meme in response.

Despite the near constant texting, you didn’t see Bucky again for over three weeks, and you’d only seen him because you had run into his friend Steve at the dog park.

It took a moment for you to realize that the brown and white dog that Hazel had instantly greeted once she’d been released from her leash was Dodger, but as soon as the realization sunk in, you looked around for Bucky.

There weren’t many people present, but you couldn’t find Bucky among the dog parents that lingered around the edges of the dog park.

You crouched down to greet Dodger, scratching him behind the ears and happily accepting his greeting kisses. “Hello, handsome. Is your uncle Bucky here?”

“Y/N?”

You turned your head in the direction of the voice, and you furrowed your brows when you saw a tall blond man that you didn’t recognize. Holy shit, was Hazel a handsome stranger magnet? “Do I know you?” you asked, doing your absolute best to keep your voice steady.

“Right, sorry,” he laughed. “I’m Steve. Bucky’s mentioned you a few times.”

You put two and two together quickly. “You’re Dodger’s dad!”

You spent the better part of the next hour chatting with Steve as Dodger and Hazel chased one another around the enclosed area, and you sent a picture of you and Steve to Bucky, happily claiming that Steve was telling you all of Bucky’s most embarrassing stories. (Bucky had sent a text to Steve within seconds of reading your text, but Steve refused to tell you what Bucky had said all while laughing so hard he nearly cried).

By the time Hazel and Dodger were laying at yours and Steve’s feet, panting and entirely worn out from an afternoon of playing, you were ready to say your goodbyes, but Steve quickly caught your attention before you could go.

“I’m meeting Bucky and a few other friends at the bar in about an hour. Would you be interested in getting a drink?” he asked, smiling so widely at you that you just couldn’t say no.

And that was how, after dropping Hazel off at home and making sure she was fed and had a full bowl of water, you found yourself at a sports bar, slinking through the Friday night crowd towards a table in the back.

You spotted Bucky immediately, and you smiled widely when his eyes widened and he choked on his beer before promptly standing to greet you. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” you heard one of the men you didn’t recognize ask the others.

“Y/N,” Steve explained, and as if that was all they needed to know, the other two nodded. Steve smiled up at you, greeting, “Glad you found the place okay.”

Bucky quickly ushered you into the booth, sticking you between him and the only other woman present. As he introduced you to the others - Clint, Sam, and Nat - his arm snaked around your shoulders casually.

“So you’re the famous Y/N,” Sam asked, a teasing smile on his face as his gaze flitted from you to Bucky, and Bucky groaned in response.

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t necessarily say ‘famous’.”

“Oh, trust me,” Sam said, “as much as this guy talks about you, I’d say you’re pretty damn famous in our circle.”

You glanced at Bucky, biting your lip in a futile attempt to hide your amused smile. “Is that right?”

He huffed. “Hazel’s the real famous one, sweetheart.”

“Liar,” Nat accused. She turned to you, one perfectly shaped brow raising. “For weeks, it was Hazel’s mom this and Hazel’s mom that, and after that it was Y/N sent me this picture and Y/N told me this joke. I feel like I already know you, and I just met you.”

“So how’s Hazel?” Bucky asked in a clear attempt to change the topic. “Did she have a fun day with Dodger?”

You spent your evening getting to know Bucky’s friends better, sharing stories about Hazel, and listening intently anytime one of them told you a story about Bucky that had your sides aching from laughter. At the end of the evening, you had four new contacts in your phone and plans to meet up with Nat for lunch the following week.

“Need me to walk you home, sweetheart?” Bucky asked when you walked out together, but you shook your head.

“Nah.” You held up your phone, showing him the screen. “I got an Uber.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Okay. Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.” A red Toyota Camry pulled up to the curb, and after confirming it was the car that was supposed to pick you up, you stepped towards it. Ever the gentleman, Bucky opened the door for you, and you slid into the backseat. “Good night, Bucky.”

It was while you laid in bed that night, unable to sleep while Hazel snored beside you, that you realized that the handsome park stranger - the one that was more of a cat-person but would make an exception for Hazel; the one that was dating Steve depending on who you asked; the one that was constantly talking about you to his friends so much that they felt like they already knew you - had wormed his way into your heart.

Did that make Hazel your wing-woman? She certainly did have a proclivity for bringing you and Bucky together, even in indirect ways.

He was on your mind all night and throughout the following day, and by the time your customary trip to the park rolled around on Sunday afternoon, you were buzzing with anticipation. Would he be there again? Would Hazel inexplicably get loose from her leash and lead you straight to the man that had you feeling like a teenager with a crush again?

As romantic as it might have been, you didn’t want to leave those answers up to fate. Instead, you sent him a text not long after you woke up, letting him know where he could find you if he wanted to see Hazel that afternoon.

Unsurprisingly, it was Hazel that saw Bucky first that afternoon when he arrived at the park, and unsurprisingly, she tore her leash from your grip and sprinted towards him, nearly tackling him as he crouched closer to the ground to greet her.

Surprisingly, you were actually jealous of your dog as you watched her give him sloppy, wet kisses.

“What’s that look for, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, angling his face away from Hazel. “Everything okay?”

“Quick question,” you told him. “Is that date still on the table?”

He grinned at you with that smug grin that you had scoffed at the day you first met, that same smug grin that made your heart flutter in your chest and made your breath catch in your throat and made you want to press kisses to his face and-

“I was wondering when you’d take me up on the offer, sweetheart.”

[yslkook]

IF I GOT YOU (7)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: one month later...and things start to come to a head. you feel more at peace than you've ever felt, but as usual, what remains peaceful is always interrupted.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, HELLA HELLA toxic friendship and dynamics, suggestive content (hooking up and other mentions)

word count: 4066

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts

Despite a month going by from the last time you spoke to Jungkook in the park and put all of your feelings out in the open, spring air, you feel lighter than ever. Maybe most of that has to do with the simple fact that you’ve finally cut out a toxic, deadweight from your life. Regardless of what ends up happening with you and Jungkook as friends or more than that, at least you are at peace and happy with being yourself.

Besides, it’s not like you don’t ever see him. You see him when you visit the tattoo parlor (but you haven’t allowed yourself to be alone with him and he hasn’t initiated), you’ve seen him at impromptu nights out, at Yoongi’s apartment. Neither of you allow yourself to be alone with each other, since you had both agreed to wait. Even your text message thread with him is dry, though.

You miss him, hoping that a notification of his name with the bunny emoji attached to it flashes across the screen. But it doesn’t.

For all of his bravado, he feels somewhat shy around you on the few occasions that he’s seen you. Jungkook will go out of his way to avoid you, hiding (as much as he can) behind Mina and Mei.

He misses you. Jungkook misses the feel of your lips molding against his, the way you felt in his arms, but most of all he misses your shy smile and your loud laugh. He misses the way your eyes shine when you speak about something you’re passionate about.

Mina had said you were both being stupid, taking time away from each other when you both are denying the inevitable. But it made sense in your mind and his. You want to know what kind of person you were without the burden of Sora’s judgment weighing heavily in every frame of your life. You take the time you need to take to recenter yourself and feel somewhat whole again.

It doesn’t take you long to adjust to life without a former best friend. You quickly begin to notice how different you feel, how differently you approach basic things that you hadn’t really put much thought to before.

It feels so refreshing to not feel like you’re walking in some metaphorical shadow of someone who didn’t really care about you. Well, you think on some level, she did care. But along with the insignificant way she made you feel, it’s not enough to justify it. And you’re really grateful that you don’t need to anymore.

In fact, you’ve already deleted most pictures with her on your social medias. You haven’t quite been able to block her yet, but you think you’ll be ready to do that soon enough.

The ever elusive notion of time really does seem to heal nearly all forms of hurt.

“So,” Yoongi starts, sitting next to you on his new black leather couch and handing you a glass of red wine.

“Don’t start with me,” You say, poking his shoulder.

“I’m not starting anything with you,” Yoongi shrugs, but his eyes twinkle.

“Oh? That’s the voice you use when you have gossip or when you’re about to interrogate me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile.

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” Hobi chimes in, sitting on your other side. He leans back and drapes his legs over your lap, to which you instantly rest your hands over his legs.

“How lucky for me,” You mumble, taking a long swig of your wine. You’ll need it.

“How’s that witch doing,” Yoongi asks bluntly.

“I don’t know, I told you I cut her off and kicked her out of my house like a month ago,” You reply, “Did you forget already?”

“No, I just like hearing that you finally came to your fucking senses,” Yoongi says, “She was awful, but I’ll commend you for sticking it out for this long. Cheers, the witch is finally gone-”

“I believe the phrase is, ‘ding dong, the witch is dead’, but this will suffice,” Hobi says and yelps when you swat his shoulder.

“Don’t be rude,” You say, “But… thank you for helping me see the light. Even if it took a while. And I’m sorry it affected our friendship, too.”

“Ah, well, we’re all here now,” Hobi says, pulling you in for a side hug.

“Yeah. So cheers,” Yoongi says again, raising his glass to you both, “Cheers to you for choosing yourself. And to new beginnings.”

“You’ll make me cry,” You say honestly, offering your friends a watery smile.

“As if we’ve never seen you cry before,” Hobi scoffs. And it’s true- they are two of your oldest friends, and even if you’ve come to the realization that maybe you hadn’t been the greatest friend to them… That bond is hard to sever, and you’re grateful that they’ve always had your back.

“Drink up,” You say with a smile, “Cheers to new beginnings.”

Yoongi has always been a little sly, unassuming but always with several tricks up his sleeve. When he so desires to cause a little mischief and stir the pot a little. And Hobi is all too happy to engage.

Which is how you end up several glasses of red wine and rose deep (yes, you mixed, rookie mistake but who cares. You’re in the presence of some of your greatest friends, after all).

And then Yoongi goes in for the kill.

“How’s our Jungkookie,” He asks, without missing a beat. You choke on your wine and wince when it somehow gets lodged in your nose.

“I don’t know. Think he’s good,” You finally respond, your words sounding slurred, “Ask Hobi. They work together, if you didn’t know.”

“Oh, thanks for the information. I had no idea.”

“Happy to be of service,” You say, leaning into Hobi's side, “Ikindofmisshim.”

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that,” Yoongi says, a self-satisfied smirk blooming on his lips. He heard you, of course he did, but you don’t seem to pick up on it.

“I said I kind of miss him,” You reply, a dreamy look in your eyes, “Do you think he misses me, too?”

Hobi chokes back a laugh but you hear it and offer him a glare. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Nobody’s making fun of you, stupid,” Yoongi says poking your forehead, “And yeah. Your man doesn’t shut up about you. Always with those eyes around you.”

“He’s not my man,” You whine pathetically.

“Yeah, that’s a mystery to both of us,” Hobi says, “How long are you both gonna keep this up?”

“Keep what up?”

“This weird awkward dance you both do around each other. Avoiding each other when we’re all together. It’s kinda funny, like we all know you both wanna fuck so bad-”

“Shut up! That’s- that’s not- shut up!”

Yoongi and Hoseok both burst into laughter, drunken giggles loud in the living room and you can’t help but laugh with them.

Clubs were never your most favorite place to unwind, but you make an exception for tonight. For Mina and Mei, you’ll make an exception. The three of you had gotten ready together in Mei’s home, in between sips of cocktails that she had poured out. Mina had done your makeup for you, giving you the sharpest eyeliner you’ve ever seen on your eyelids as well as a bold red lipstick.

It’s not a club night if there is no red lipstick involved, after all.

Your makeup usually looks good when you apply it yourself, but Mina has a genuine eye and skill for makeup artistry. You recall her telling you that she’d always dreamed of going to beauty school but hadn’t pursued it. You had told her that it’s never too late to fulfill a dream and she had only smiled at you.

“Hey,” You say, “Is Jimin coming tonight? How’d your date last week go?”

“It was really good,” Mina says, something sweet in her voice, “He made me dinner and dessert. And then I sucked his soul from his cock an hour later and he even made me squirt. And yeah, he’s coming tonight to the club. We’ll see what happens...”

“Wow,” You nod, listening with wide eyes, “That sounds amazing. I’m really happy things are going well for you both. Including the horny stuff.”

“The horny stuff?” Mei laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” You say, playfully shoving her shoulder, “It’s no joking matter that he made you squirt.”

“Yeah, I high fived him after,” Mina says slyly, “It was… a night. Can’t wait to have another night like that. But I’m gonna make him work for it tonight.”

“As you should,” You nod solemnly, “What about you Mei? Are we drinking until we blackout or are you playing hard to get with Seulgi?”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Comes Mei’s muffled response.

“Cheers to that,” You reply, “Are… Jimin’s roommates coming?”

“You think you’re slick, huh?” Mina snorts, “You wondering about Jungkook?”

“N-no, I haven’t seen Taehyung in a while either-”

“Tae’s coming, but Jungkook isn’t. Something about having a long week and wanting to chill at home.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say, cheeks ablaze as you avoid her eyes. Unable to hold the slight sting of disappointment from your voice.

Mina and Mei see right through it but they say nothing, only handing you a refill of your now empty glass.

Despite the relatively steady stream of drinks in your hand (an illusion, really, you’ve been nursing the same two drinks all night), you’re almost completely sober. In fact, you’re more tired than anything else. It seems that Jungkook had the right idea to stay home tonight. You’re rather benignly jealous of his decision.

You enjoy dancing and singing with your friends, feeling the thrum and excitement of music and your close companions bursting through your veins.But environments like this overwhelm you sometimes. All of the flashing lights, sometimes smoke and all of the people… Tonight seems to be one of those nights.

“Wanna dance?” Comes a rich, velvety voice behind you to the right. It’s Taehyung, and you’d rather dance with Taehyung than anyone else in this club. With the exception being Jungkook, but he’s not here right now.

“Okay,” You nod, taking his hand when he offers it to you. Your thoughts flit to Jungkook briefly.

Taehyung is good company, always keeping you with a smile on your face and filling you up with laughter. He keeps you close with easy, gentle movements as you both belt out the words to whatever song is playing on the speakers. But Taehyung has always been observant.

“You don’t really wanna be here, huh? I’d take it personally, if I didn’t know you,” Taehyung teases.

“No, it’s not that,” You murmur, “Just have never been a big club goer, that’s all. Jungkook had the right idea in staying home.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muses, “What are you two doing?”

He’s almost as blunt as Yoongi (who’s also in some corner of the club. Usually, he keeps you company at things like this, but conveniently, he’s nowhere to be found.).

“If I knew I was going to be interrogated in this club, I would’ve drank more,” You say dryly. Taehyung laughs at that and squeezes your shoulder.

“You both deserve to be happy. Just want you to know that.”

“Thanks, Tae,” You say, a grin spreading across your face, “I guess you’re not as sleazy as Mina says you are-”

“Me? Sleazy?” Taehyung gasps, pretending to be affronted. You roll your eyes and offer him your hand.

“Wanna dance?”

Taehyung turns you around and holds your hips tightly in his hands, dancing with you to the beat of the music. It’s nice to be held like this, even if it’s a little dirty.

You don’t notice a pair of sly eyes watching you from across the club.

By the time you excuse yourself to catch a breath and grab some water from the bar, you realize that most of your friends are off doing their own thing. It gives you a second to people watch from the second floor of the curb and lean on the railings, taking in your surroundings. Despite stifling a yawn.

You relish in the cool feel of the icy water flooding your senses, waking you up a little more. You wonder if you can convince Yoongi to take you to get fries or tacos after the night ends. At the thought of tacos, you salivate a little.

But your taco fueled fantasies are broken when a few girls try to push past you to get to the bar. You mumble a soft apology, but it goes unheard. The unmistakable sound of a voice, a voice that you’ve only recently been able to put out of your mind, breaks through the barrier and it makes your heart drop.

It’s an angry call of your name. Your stomach churns, and suddenly you’ve never wanted to learn the art of teleportation more.

Sora, in all her bitter glory, stands in front of you with a full drink in her hands. Beside her are two of her friends, looking resigned and trying to plead with her that they should go.

“Missed me so much that you followed me here, huh?” Sora sneers.

“I’m not even going to entertain that with a response. Or you for that matter,” You say tiredly, trying to step past her.

“All your friends left you. Look at you all alone,” She says and you roll your eyes with a dry laugh.

“I’d rather be alone than have anything to do with you, Sora,” You reply easily, “I’m leaving now-”

But she sidesteps you again, gripping your forearm and looking at you with so much animosity that it makes your skin crawl. Had she always looked at you like that?

“I can’t believe you just dropped me like nothing. After I gave you everything,” Sora says, as if you had said nothing at all. She’s clearly a little drunk, telltale signs of her drunkenness clear on her face. Her words are slurred and she stumbles a little on her feet. You cringe. You don’t want to have this conversation with her whether she’s sober or drunk.

“You treated me like I was nothing,” You snap, “I don’t want to discuss this with you. Now let me go.”

“Or what? There’s nobody here ‘cept you and me, babe,” She says, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. Her friends have disappeared and warning bells start to go off in your head. She’s right, all of your friends have dispersed. But you manage to fish your phone out of your purse while she rambles to you and send a text to the groupchat, simply stating “pls help, Sora is here”.

Dread seeps into your pores. You just want to be done with her presence.

“Sora, just let me go. Nothing you say will change anything,” You say heatedly, “Fucking let go of me!”

You try to yank your arm out of her grip but her nails are sharp against your skin.

“I loved you, you know that? I fucking gave you everything, you were my best friend,” Sora hisses, “I just wanted to you be happy. To see that I’d do anything for you.”

It takes a minute for the dust to settle but you suddenly begin to understand. “You hurt me! That’s not friendship or l-love, or anything remotely close to it. Nothing you say will change that. I don’t want you around anymore. Take a hint, Sora,” Your voice is cold and deadly, nothing like what Sora is accustomed to.

“Please, let me go,” You beg softly, “Why won’t you let me go?”

Tears spring into your eyes, both from the force she’s holding you with and from how much this is exhausting you.

“What does he have that’s worth all of this?” Sora hisses.

“It doesn’t matter what he has. I like him and I enjoy spending time with him, that’s all that should matter, and I’m not explaining Jungkook to you,” You say coldly, “You lost the right to know a long time ago. If you took your head out of your ass for two seconds, you’d know that this friendship was over months ago.”

By now, both of your voices have raised in volume and pitch, attracting the attention of bystanders. This makes no sense to you, your head is starting to hurt from the implications of her words. You just want to go home. By now, Yoongi has seen your text and is trying to get to the bar to rescue you from Sora.

“He won’t give you what you need,” Sora exclaims.

“Shut up! Just fucking stop talking about him,” You shout, “I’m so fucking sick of this, just leave me the fuck alone. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore, just drop it!”

You feel the need to defend him though, “He’s kind, he has a big heart a-and, you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just fucking drop it! Leave me alone!”

“You are so fucking blind! You’ve always been such an oblivious fucking bitch,” She screams at you and your blood goes cold. You’ve seen her angry, but not like this not when her eyes are blown over with rage.

Yoongi’s heart is beating in his ears as he tries to find you- this club is fucking huge, where the hell could you be? He’s already sent a text to Jungkook, telling him that you might be in trouble at the club and that nobody could find you.

“Where is he then? If he’s so kind, he must be here right?”

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve always had a stick up your ass about him specifically- I mean you’ve always have a stick up your ass, but with him it’s like something crawled up there and died-”

“You couldn’t even cuff him? You dropped me for him and you didn’t even cuff him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“What are you afraid of, babe?” She sneers cruelly, “Afraid he’ll find something he doesn’t like? Or are you afraid you’ll find something that you don’t like?”

Frustration and hurt boils in your belly, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. You shut your eyes tightly, willing the feeling to go away. With all of the calmness you can muster, you throw her hand off of you and rub your forearm gingerly.

Before you can say anything, her eyes narrow to slits. You don’t even have time to react before you feel a sudden wetness drench the front of your top. Remnants of her drink are splashed on your torso and you gasp, rage flaring through your veins once more. How dare she throw her drink at you? Before you can do anything though, a pair of arms circle your waist and you’re pulled into a strong chest.

You recognize the scent of his cologne immediately and the feel of his leather jacket. “Jungkook,” You mumble, looking up at him. He immediately gives you his jacket and pushes it through your arms wordlessly.

“Hi,” He murmurs, taking in your wide, nervous eyes and the trembling of your hands. He brushes a thumb over your cheek before standing in front of you and you take his hand in yours. Jungkook squeezes reassuringly.

He offers Sora a long, hard look and a shake of his head. She almost balks at his intense gaze. Almost.

“C’mon baby,” Jungkook finally says, “Let’s get out of here.”

“My knight in shining arm-” You shiver once you’re both outside the club, away from the eyes of strangers. You cut your train of thought off when he pulls you close to him, cupping your cheeks with both hands. Worry dots his eyes and he presses his forehead to yours shakily.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Is everything-”

He exhales, a shudder felt against your skin. He seems to be at odds with himself, an internal battle dancing in his dark eyes. But Jungkook makes up his mind and cradles your face again, the gentle pads of his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I missed you,” Jungkook croaks, “Shit, I miss you so fucking much. Can I kiss you, baby? Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nod instantly, breathing out a soft ‘yes’. Whatever this recent development means for both of you, it makes sense. You want this and you want him.

And then he kisses you as if it was meant to be, as if he’s been thinking about your lips every minute of every day- soft, balmy lips against your chapped, red lips. Jungkook swallows your gasp, somehow brushing against the parts of your heart that missed him. His kiss is sweet and desperate as his tongue traces over your teeth before dipping further into your mouth. Your knees weaken slightly, but he holds you steady with one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your cheek.

You’re overwhelmed by him and from the events of the night. Whatever wetness had gathered in your eyes clings to your lashes before dropping down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Jungkook says softly. He gathers you in his arms, hugging you tightly. You sink into his hold on you, inhaling deeply. The faint thrum of his heart calms you slightly.

“I missed you,” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, “Fuck, I missed you a lot.”

He kisses your forehead with a small smile, the hint of his dimples making you smile, too. Jungkook looks at you as if you’re transparent, trying to study the reason for your wet lashes and the tear stains down your face. A feeling of understanding passes between you both, calming your racing heart and your nerves.

“Jungkook,” You murmur, “Take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” You reply, not really wanting to be in your home just yet, “It’s only fair, since you spent the night at my place last time, right?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Jungkook chuckles. He kisses you one more time before adjusting his motorcycle helmet over your head. When you wrap your arms around him, you press a kiss to the back of his neck and behind his ear.

He shivers.

Jungkook can tell you’re in your head a little bit, a little quiet and shaky. Even as you head into his bathroom to change into the clothes he’d given you, you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. When you returned from the bathroom with a bare face, you’re lost in thought, biting down on your bottom lip and chewing harshly.

He’d pulled you into his arms, applied his clear balm on your lips, and chided you for treating your lips like that.

You only smiled weakly at him and meekly asked him to hold you under his covers. He doesn’t deny you.

He’d caught the tail end of Sora’s tirade at the club, and he’d begun to understand. He thinks you had begun to understand, too.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers into your hair, “Do you want to talk, baby?”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admit softly, pressing your hand over his.

“I can talk for both of us,” Jungkook says, kissing your temple, “Can I do that?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

“I heard some of what Sora said,” Jungkook says and you tense up but he wordlessly tells you to relax, “I think in some weird, twisted, fucked up way. She loved you and her way of showing you how was keeping you to herself. It’s shitty, but it made sense to her. But you don’t owe her anything, baby. Not a damn thing.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I feel really gross and I don’t know why.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Jungkook says, rubbing your arm, “You didn’t know. That’s not love, not really. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” You say, turning to look at him with a small smile, “I trust you.”

You turn fully in his arms, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep, as well as his gentle fingers over your back. It’s so easy with him, and you don’t need to think too much. Just how you like it.

Tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans + mentions of animal death Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Time to meet the family! What exactly has Cassandra told her mother? Can Bela convince her family to calm the hell down? We'll find out! Spoiler: there's the start of a cute date afterwards Notes: Once more we visit Bela's private study, which I first described in a chapter of Serenade. Added a few more details this time. PS reader is probably low-key a theater nerd with a hint of a goth phase, just saying. Also this chap is a little short, sorry. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands

3: Rumbling Thunder

Heart racing, you step into the dining room, just behind Bela. Both of you are nervous, but find comfort in each other. Still, what you see upon entering only makes you feel worse. At the head of a large table stands none other than Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. Besides her is her middle daughter, the one who confronted you earlier, who sends you a knowing smirk as you walk in. Lady Dimitrescu, on the other hand, is scowling. Her eyes are squinted in a clear display of disapproval. If not for Bela’s hand squeezing your own, it was likely that you would have fainted from fear.

“I see Cassandra has wasted no time in spreading rumors,” Bela said bitterly. You’re amazed by her ability to stand tall in the face of her family’s tension. Yet there was a part of you that wondered if you were worth the struggle, at least for your soulmate. Thankfully, you are not given much time to ponder the thought. No, you’re being pulled towards the closest side of the tabe, guided next to an ornate seat. Neither Bela nor yourself sit yet, however. “Please, mother, do not be hasty to make your judgement. I promise that-”

“Do not presume to tell me of my own business, daughter. The timing of my judgement is my prerogative, not yours,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, staring right at you. A shiver runs down your spine at the eye contact. What did Cassandra say to her? You wonder, struggling to breathe past the lump in your throat. Even Bela becomes visibly nervous at the interaction. “Now… are you certain, without a doubt, that this is your soulmate?” Did she really even have to ask? What were the chances that Bela would save you, one person out of at least a dozen in the cellar, for any other reason? Still, your soulmate straightens up at the attention, and replies as confidently as possible.

“Yes, of course, mother. I would not dare risk your anger for any lesser reason,” Bela assured. Then she gives your hand another soft squeeze, before pulling hers back a little, catching the thread that bound you together with her fingers. Lifting it, she tugs it somewhat absentmindedly. Out of habit you immediately return the action. Unfortunately, those around you would be unable to see the display. For all they knew, the two of you could be faking it, simply attempting to get out of the situation unscathed. Surprisingly though, you see Alcina hesitate. Her left hand twitches as if she was thinking of her own red string. Has she ever met her partner? Did she know the pure joy that her daughter had so recently felt?... Maybe she’d be more sympathetic to your situation if she had.

“We will see if your defiance pans out in time, Bela. For now… Why don’t we hear what your pet has to say about themselves, hmm?” Lady Dimitrescu suggested, giving a somewhat devious smile. Next to you, Bela grimaces, then sends you a pleading look. Alas, you cannot read her mind, and can only guess as to how you’re supposed to respond. Bowing is a sign of respect in virtually all cultures, you think, probably a good place to start.

“It is an immeasurable pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Lady Dimitrescu,” you said, before giving your full name. Then you rise from your bow, once more making eye contact. Out of the corner of your vision you see Cassandra rolling her eyes. “I know that I am a mere human, and hardly the epitome of a prime specimen. But I am determined to prove my worth, for there is no prize on this earth more grand than being allowed to love Lady Bela. Every ounce of my willpower is prepared to devote myself to this task, entirely, so that I may give Lady Bela the courtship and happiness that she is deserving. It is both an obligation and an honor.” Hopefully your soulmate wouldn’t mind you using the same line twice, at least under these circumstances.

In the seconds that follow, several things happen: One, you see Cassandra frown a little, and refuse to look in your direction. Two, Lady Dimitrescu makes a surprised face, but quickly shifts into an expression of satisfaction. Thirdly, Bela’s hand finds your own again, giving it an incredibly soft squeeze. Last but not least… someone you haven’t seen before enters the room. She has red hair, a green pendant around her neck, and eyes that light up with curiosity when she sees you. If you had to guess, you’d assume that she was another one of Bela’s sisters. Here’s hoping she’s a tad bit friendlier, you think.

“Did I miss anything? Ooh, please tell me we’re having this lovely stranger for breakfast?” She asked, grinning maniacally. So much for being friendlier, you think, figuring that she was being literal. Based on the way Bela tenses up in response, you’re probably right. Before she can protest, however, Lady Dimitrescu clears her throat and speaks.

“Ah, Daniela… This stranger-” she says the word with far less venom than you anticipated, but it is venom nonetheless- “is your dear sister’s soulmate. We will not be draining them of blood. Again. Assuming that they behave themselves. Is that clear?” She asked, staring down at the newcomer. There’s a slight pause, tension still lingering in the air, followed by a sigh of relief from Bela. Much to your surprise, neither Cassandra nor Daniela seem particularly upset by this announcement. In fact, the latter simply shrugs and takes her seat at the table. Next thing you know everyone else is sitting as well, including Bela, who gestures for you to follow suit. “I’ll have one of the servants fetch you some more… appropriate food. Cynthia, my dear?” Soon enough a maiden, perhaps a decade or two older than yourself, hurriedly enters the room. With a bow, she addresses Alcina.

“Yes, Lady Dimitrescu?”

“Have Miss Bouregard make an extra plate of whatever it is you sort eat, and bring it here. We have an… unexpected guest,” Alcina explained. At that, Cynthia glances at you, her eyes briefly widening in surprise. Without another word she turns away, giving another bow before heading away to fulfill her task. Once more you’re the only human in the room. Oddly enough, you manage to feel quite at ease, as if surviving one round was enough to guarantee you’d win the overall game. Well, at the very least you now had a chance. Regardless of what was to come, you were glad for that, for this opportunity to be with your soulmate. At the end of the day… little else mattered to you.

———————————

Much to your relief, the rest of breakfast proceeded smoothly. Conversation was sparse, with most of it being hushed whispers from the other side of the table, but you hardly minded. Normally you would find it rude. Now, you were simply pleased that they weren’t being up front with their hostility. More so, it allowed you and Bela to have your own conversation, which mainly pertained to your plans for the day. Several times during your discussion, a glance elsewhere would show you that Alcina was paying attention. Exactly once you even saw her attempting to hide a smile. A sense of pride had swelled in your chest at the sight.

It has remained there, even until now, as you move into Bela’s private study. One quick survey of the room tells you a thousand things about your soulmate. For starters, it’s clear that she’s musically inclined. There’s a harp in one corner, adjacent to a folded music stand, as well as a small bookshelf dedicated entirely to sheet music. A couple medium sized instrument cases are nearby, but you don’t immediately recognize their shape. Further into the room is a rather old looking desk, slightly worn, yet clearly cared for. Possibly passed down the generations? Next to the desk is a massive window with a couple spare chairs. All across the walls were bookshelves and mementos, including several skulls (at least one of them human). Every book you looked over appeared to be well read, with many bookmarks inside, some held together by tape and prayers.

“This… this is sublime, my darling. I could rest here for a month and hardly finish cherishing half the space!” You said, grinning at your soulmate. She’s equally pleased, seeming a tad relieved as well. Perhaps she had worried you’d be thrown off by the skulls? Wanting to reassure her, you approach that particular shelf, examining them closely. However, you do not touch them, not wanting to risk damaging her collection. “Truly marvellous. Dare I ask where you got these specimens?” It’s a joke, but Bela stiffens nonetheless, making you quickly redact your statement. “My apologies, I meant it as a jest. Though you are welcome to tell me more about them if you so desire! I will listen with rapt attention, I promise.”

“Most of them are gifts from Cassandra. During the summers we hunt, her more so than Daniela or myself. I… dislike wasting anything, and there’s only so much to be done with most bones. They have quite a few ornamental uses, however. Useful for study, as well,” Bela mentioned, smiling softly. Then she moves to stand next to you, carefully reaching to grab one of the skulls. “This was from one of our hounds, actually. I raised her from puppy to adult, took her on every hunt, even let her sleep in my quarters on colder nights. When she got sick I…” A pause, mouth open but unmoving, eyes slipping shut. “I couldn’t bring myself to put her down. Even argued with my mother, night after night, begging for another choice. None came, of course, and in the end even I could not deny her the softest embrace of death… Still, you must think me strange, to keep such a thing as a reminder of her.”

“Not at all, my dear. We all remember, and grieve, in our own ways. I’ve often found myself intrigued by skulls, of all sorts,” you admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “All we are, our minds or mayhap our souls, contained in one hard shell. It’s incredible, and terrifying, all at the same time, to hold one in my hands, or even merely examine one. Oh, what stories these bones could tell, if only they could talk… Though I suppose there are entire fields of science devoted to such a thought…” With that said, you look back at Bela just in time to see her staring fondly at the canine skull. Then she places it back on its perch, dusting her hands off afterwards, taking one last moment to appreciate her collection.

“I’m glad you and I agree on this,” she said softly. Once more she’s looking at you, smiling wide. “Now let’s make memories of our own, to hold in our bones forevermore, yes?”

[peeterparkr]

red; tom’s version|two.

chapter two: the lucky one. “You don’t feel pretty, you feel used”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship a month after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: bottle caps, a red scarf and two coincidences that probably mean something warnings: angsty a bit, cussing, word count: 6.7k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist previous chapter next chapter

Present day. One month after the breakup.

Tom knew he had to stay quiet. Or rather, there was barely anything he could say while he was plotting his next words. He could barely believe he had a chance.

Walking down the streets with her quietly as he saw her, arranging her own thoughts. She had agreed to listen.

And he knew it was because whatever they’d felt, it made it worth it.

Y/N was angry. Not sad, angry. He had expected her to be crying. He didn’t want to be the reason why she would and he tried thinking he wasn’t. Though, deep inside, he was perfectly aware that he would be blamed for the tears that she’d shed in the last few months.

He wasn’t proud of that.

Guilt blinds. And Tom was blind in an attempt to shield. It was easier to shield on his own excuses that would serve barely as a plea to forgiveness.

Glares were directed at him. Her jaw was clenched and she had crossed her arms. The moment she’d realized what she’d agreed to, she’d turned stiff.

“Aren’t you cold?” Tom had tried asking.

“I don’t wish to speak to you.”

Fair.

And it was the middle of the night once again, how many times had they not walked under the stars with barely a destiny to reach. And now he was walking to his doom.

Y/N was mental.

In a good way. But the girl had taught him how insane you can be when it comes to relationships. In the best way possible, not as an insult.

Tom knew that he had fucked up. And he had been in New York for a while, though he hadn’t spoken to her directly, knowing that approaching her would only wound her.

It was colder now, Christmas was barely around the corner. In any other circumstance, it would’ve added to the romance.

Here it was just a bad omen of whatever would come next. The lights flickered as soon as they were walking past them.

“Are—are we not going to talk?” Tom questioned anyway. “I thought—“

Y/N shrugged. “I’m still deciding it, you see, I don’t know if I want to listen to you break my heart in an attempt of forged honesty.”

Tom dug his hands in his pockets. “I genuinely want to apologize.”

“And I genuinely don’t like you,” she snapped. “You see my problem?”

Tom sighed. “Fine,” he gulped. “But you are cold, that thing isn’t covering your neck or chest.”

Y/N had gone for a rather inadequate option for a cold winter day. Though Tom would agree that the black dress had been yet another punch to his stomach, all of course with an attempt to make him regret it, it was still rather unsuitable for the freezing city. But she looked stunning.

Her coat barely covered her, and her crossed arms were probably more of an attempt to warm herself and it served as a clear exposition of her anger.

She didn’t answer, however.

“You could wear this,” Tom offered, showing her the red scarf that once belonged to her. Tom liked to think that it now belonged to them.

The red scarf that had become a token to their relationship. From the very first day.

Y/N looked at it, and reluctantly took it. “It’s only because I’m cold.”

But Tom wanted to think it wasn’t only because of that. Wearing the scarf meant she was opening a door for him.

Seeing her again had been quite different from what Tom had expected, her hair was different and her makeup too. Her gaze seemed lost.

Whoever was standing beside him didn’t seem like her. She was a stranger, a very familiar one. But there wasn’t that visible spark that he’d fallen for. Not that he wouldn’t be able to love the figure in front of him but he feared he was the reason for its disappearance.

“It smells like you,” y/n whispered as she wrapped the scarf around her neck.

Tom smiled, briefly. “I’ve been wearing it. Your own smell wore out,” he regretted saying that. “That sounded way too creepy or cheesy.”

“Both, somehow,” she agreed. “Don’t ever say that kind of shit again.”

Tom gulped a chuckle, “noted.”

There was still that y/n in there, the one that liked the kind of cheesy things that he could say. The ones that came up at the right moment. Though, there was still that y/n that didn’t take any bullshit.

Tom hadn’t gone exactly through diamonds and sparkles after the breakup. And the city was now quite different from when it had first received him. Now covered with dark smoke and trash, with only skeletons of trees.

Guilt drowns. And Tom was, undoubtedly, drowning in a drought. Everything had dried off yet he felt like he could barely breathe.

Knowing you’re the reason for someone’s hurt is no fantasy.

And he was broken, too. Very, very broken. However, he knew he was seen as the bad guy here and he wouldn’t call himself less, and he wouldn’t admit he was aching too.

So he was trying to ignore it.

Her apartment building hadn’t changed. Not that Tom had expected it to, but it was nice to come to a familiar place. He noticed the stairs were still rusty and unclean and creaked as he walked in. New creaks had come in that he hadn’t memorized yet. He hoped he would have the chance to.

Y/N stopped at her door, with more questions than answers to give him.

“I really don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted to him. “But I know that if I don’t give you a chance to explain yourself I’ll never forgive myself.”

“That’s fair. But…I’ll do whatever you want me to, but please let me explain it to you,” he begged. “I—If you want me to leave New York and never come again I’ll understand.”

Y/N crossed her arms and leaned against the door, a red door that would open to memories he couldn’t quite forget.

“I already said I would listen,” she recalled. “But—“ her eyes met his, they looked tired. “I am having an inner monologue on why this is stupid.”

“Care to share?”

She took a heavy breath, “Well, you see, Tom, if that even is your real name…”

“Really? You’re—“Tom tried hard not to roll his eyes. “Yes, my name is Tom.”

“Tom….”

“Holland.”

“Hm, interesting. Holland, I remembered it being something else. You’re a liar, just making sure,” she said. “I’m—I just feel stupid. Because I shouldn’t be feeling this way for such a short relationship, is that even—was it? Can we even call it that?”

Her words felt bitter to Tom’s own tongue. He understood why she was defensive. “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t fucking know, maybe we confused whatever we were feeling with love, or���“

“I didn’t—“

“Could be easy, Tommy, you’re an actor, actors, as far as I know, act, and man did you play such an amazing role,” she snarled as she opened her door, leading the way. “Be quiet, by the way, I don’t want to wake up Lula or Jules.”

Tom walked in into what seemed a messed snapshot of how he remembered the place. It was the same, in essence. But sadder. The apartment still had a few sweaters here and there, and y/N’s notebooks all over it.

He could see Lula’s leftovers in their coffee table and some candy wraps that Julia had probably been eating while reading her book.

He turned to that one corner and saw it, the jukebox that had been what had defined y/n’s and his relationship. He dug his hand into his pocket to search for the locket y/n had given back. Tom squeezed it as he searched in his pocket for something else.

Guilt kills. And Tom was dying.

“Here,” Tom said as he reached out for three beer caps in his pocket, “I brought these to you,” he offered them to her, knowing there were jars full of them.

Y/N collected them. Or rather, it was her latest collection that she’d later use for her art. Or whatever she was into at the moment.

The apartment was small. It had two bedrooms which they all shared. They’d rotate whoever had the luck to have the single room. So small. And yet it felt so big.

Y/n pursed her lips but then took the beer caps and placed them on the counter.

“We’re going to the roof,” y/n said. “I’m just getting us some wine—No,” she shook her head, probably realizing that having wine would make the moment a tad more romantic or cuddly than she expected it to be. “Make yourself useful and make some tea, I’ll go change myself, I’m freezing.”

She’d brought blankets and a hoodie he hadn’t remembered he had left. They didn’t have to go to the roof, Julia was staying with Matt and Lula was not back yet from wherever she was.

She had stayed quiet, for a bit. Cuddled up in the same couch where they—

“Do you like your tea?” Questioned Tom.

She looked up. “Yeah, you can add that to your many talents. Right before lying.”

“I make better tea than lies? Good to know.”

Y/N shrugged. “How long have you been here?”

“A… few days,” Tom admitted. “I have been trying to walk up to your door but I keep getting lost in the subway, and when I did come here I panicked and cried.”

Y/N shrugged. “I thought I saw you, the other day,” she said.

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you,” y/n confessed. “So I just yelled at a poor stranger. I—I genuinely feel sorry for him.”

Tom tried not to chuckle. “What did you yell?”

“I called him a bastard and asked what was wrong with him,” she scrunched her nose. “Not my proudest moment. I was kicked out of the bus.”

Tom gulped. “I’m sorry,” he took a deep breath. “You can yell at me if that helps.”

She shrugged. “No, I think I’m good, I let it all out with him,” she grimaced. “But I might just—“she picked up a pillow and threw it at him with barely any energy.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “But I can be your punching bag, I deserve it,” he admired. “I see the jukebox,” Tom said, motioning to it.

She shrugged. “Yeah, would be stupid if you didn’t. It’s quite big. Barely any space left.”

Tom chuckled. “I meant—“

“No, no, I know what you mean. I’m trying to ignore it,” y/n admitted. “I notice it too, every day. Almost threw it away.”

Tom nodded. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well, it’s a very functional jukebox, the music on it,” she said. “It would be stupid to throw out something like that.”

Tom had expected a different answer, one rather more romantic. Like, that maybe throwing it out would’ve meant throwing him away.

“Right. I’m surprised the cops haven’t come for it.”

She smiled.

She… smiled?

She smiled.

Tom hadn’t thought he would see it again. So comforting. And genuine. Not forced.

“It’s not stolen,” she reminded him, “not really.”

Tom decided to smile back, but to himself. He couldn’t really look her in the eye.

“I guess I also kept it for the same reason why you kept that stupid scarf,” y/n added. Quieter now.

Tom took a deep breath. “It’s a fashionable accessory.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “It’s been out of fashion for 10 years.”

“Trends come back.”

Y/N looked up. “Not when they're horrible, no,” she said with a heavy breath. “I don’t—“She shook her head. “No, we can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Tom questioned.

“Talk like you didn’t break my heart,” she snarked, gulping down her thoughts. “I always knew your heart never truly belonged to me, you know?” y/n said, holding to her mug. The tea was probably cold now. As so were they.

Tom was taken aback by that statement. “I—at the beginning—“

“No, it never truly did. Not completely.”

“I—“ but Tom didn’t have an answer to it.

The night was cold and New York was still awake. But it felt like it was them and only them even if they felt like oceans apart. He hated it. The first time he’d ever been truly lucky he had run out of luck.

Y/N watched him. “I always knew it was meant to be for a short time and I didn’t need anything more, I somehow knew that you’d hurt me,” she explained.

Tom had never meant to go this far. “I never meant—“

“Imagine if you had meant it though, how crushed would I have been. It wasn’t your intention, and yet I ended up crying on the floor,” she said, ironically

Tom couldn’t say more but an “I am so sorry.”

“I know you are,” she said. “I hope you are.”

Tom stared at her, “I am.”

Y/N directed him a single glance. “I don’t think you understand, Tom. This month has been the shittiest in my life.”

Tom didn’t have enough words to apologize. Or he had too many to say. Instead, he could word out anything.

“The worst part is that you also gave me the best fucking days of my life,” she continued. “So I’m at a crossroads here. Because there’s a part of me that thinks it was all bullshit and there’s also the part that knows it couldn’t be.”

Tom watched her. “It was not bullshit,” he said. “It was real.”

“That’s the worst part,” she pointed out. “I think, yeah, all of it being real then it makes it hurt even more because that means I lost the best thing to ever happen to me and you lost something so real.”

Tom nodded. “I lost the best thing to ever happen to me, too.”

Y/N was, without a doubt, the best thing he’d never looked for.

“Did you lose it because of me? Or did you lose me?” She quickly questioned, raising her brows.

Y/N was also a murderer.

“Well,” she took a deep breath, ignoring his sight as he was trying to know how to Answer. “You better start explaining yourself.”

“Before I—I… I… Right, well—Before I came here—I—Ella—“

She closed her eyes. “Actually, no.”

Tom paused, in fear.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, we will….” Y/N tried arranging her thoughts. “Tell me from the moment you hopped on the plane.”

Tom stayed quiet.

“I need to know how it looked from the moment you arrived, not… before, although I’m risking the fact you’re an unreliable narrator.”

“I am a terrible narrator,” he admitted.

Two months before the breakup. Tom’s version.

Tom remembered how little it had taken him to make the decision to escape. He had decided to escape from what everyone told him he should love.

With a backpack, his passport and a half ass made suitcase, he had hopped on the first flight to New York. No regrets as it had taken off. Sweet Escape airlines had been so kind to him.

Not telling anyone about it. To their eyes, he probably was only late to a party, and they’d see him in a few minutes with an excuse of an apology.

Yet, he was on a plane. Escaping from the perfect life.

They always said how lucky he was. Didn’t they? How incredible it was to have what he had. Because he had everything.

And he was running away from it. He watched the people on the plane, his seat was unflattering, next to an old lady who seemed to be rather impolite.

He remembered when he had made the decision to run out, the night before, a camera flash had blinded him and time had suddenly stopped. Just a few hours before hopping on the plane. Everyone expected him to do something he was not ready for. Everyone thought it would come.

Even Eleanor.

Especially Eleanor. Ella was probably counting only the minutes for his arrival. He had promised her he would be there.

No one could ever judge Tom for the decision he had made. Well, everyone would. But Tom liked to believe they couldn’t. As a technicality, that is. That they had absolutely no right to do it.

His parents wouldn’t be proud of it. Too bad.

Tom was nervous, though. The decision had been, undoubtedly, rushed. He hadn’t shown up to that early brunch.

Still wearing a suit, with a white buttoned shirt unbuttoned on his neck. He had still almost gone to that brunch in that FancyAss restaurante.

A brunch? He thought to himself. How incredibly out of character it seemed, he had become a caricature of whatever they wanted him to be.

Did he have to apologize to Eleanor? He didn’t want to.

He really didn’t want to.

He looked at his phone, Harry was calling him. A few other texts from his mother, too. Two missed calls from Ella. Probably wondering why he was late. He hoped they didn’t wait for him, for he would never arrive.

New York was a bit far from it.

The whole flight had been him trying to figure out if it was a good choice.

But he was given an ultimatum, and when those come you have to decide.

His decision was to go to New York. And it was the best choice.

It was, of course, but it was alright to doubt it. It was not likely of him to simply run away.

He didn’t have it all figured out. And that’s why he was clutching his backpack. He was chasing a dream that he didn’t even know he had.

Maybe that’s why he was running away. He didn’t know who he was. But of course he had heard it, how he looked like a million bucks. And he had said it to everyone else the night before, how the stars looked like diamonds in the skies.

He was making a name for himself, he knew that. Or rather, they were making a name for him. And he didn’t know who he was.

The flight was rather short, or maybe Tom barely had any time to think about it.

Running away from his own country, from his family, friends and from Ella, whom he barely had a title for right now.

The city was quick to receive him with bustling crowds, people pushing and rushing. But also opening up as he was walking in. Dancing around him.

How magical. He thought to himself as he tried texting Harrison, hoping his best friend wouldn’t mind receiving him at his place.

Tom managed to get a taxi that was waiting right outside the airport.

He hopped in and grinned to himself proudly. He was there.

With a new city ahead of him and no one expecting anything from him. With no one telling him what to do, with no one giving him an ultimatum and no one with orders for him.

“Where to?” Asked the taxi driver, as he stared from the mirror.

Tom, though he was not proud of it, was having a moment. “I’m running away from my life,” Tom explained. “don’t you ever get tired of the role you’re supposed to play? Like you were not meant to play it but now you’re too stuck in it.”

“Man, I'm sorry, I ain’t got no time for that kind of poeticbullshit, I need an address.”

The moment ended quickly. “Right. Sorry. I’m an idiot… uh, it’s this one.” Tom had to look up for Haz’s address.

“Every time,” the driver sighed, chuckling. “Why do y’all think New York is some sort of magical city that will give you the answer to whatever you’re going through.”

Tom’s smile widened sarcastically, “Well, isn’t it?”

“Guess it is, in a way, but I’ll tell you something,” the driver stated, “whatever you think New York will give to you, it'll be the very opposite. It won’t be what you want but it might just be what you need.”

“Oh really?” Tom chuckled, “who’s the one with the poetic crap now?”

“No, I’m messing with you, damn all you tourists believe that kind of thing huh? New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of huh.”

“It’s what we’re sold,” Tom gave in.

“That sounds pretty, don’t it? To not get what you want but what you need.”

“It does.”

In a way, he was right. Tom would’ve thought he needed a break. To escape. That’s what he wanted right?

But what did he need?

The city welcomed him with a short rain, the water reflected the twinkling lights, as the shadows were reflecting the life he had left behind. The people rushed with their coats, as they were off to their lives. And it felt like he was finally breathing.

Although he would not share his thoughts with the driver again, Tom thought this was what he needed. A new start with no one that would judge him.

That’s probably why he’d chosen New York, the people are too busy living their own crazy lives to focus on someone so insignificant like him. He didn’t have to be whoever he was before, the pretty face, the cool guy everyone liked.

No, he was a guy in a stupid cab, and not to be worried if they said he hadn’t chosen a better ride, on a bigger car.

No, no announcement of whatever he was going to do on the papers because his dad had arranged it.

No, now he was but what he always wanted to be. One of those cautionary tales that they tell about people who go mad and escape and live.

He was a legend now.

Maybe they were right, he was lucky. He was lucky because he had finally made it out of there.

And he saw the lights, with Broadway shows waiting for him, with new adventures coming. With a new life that he wanted to create. The Broadway signs changed to Tom’s sight.

‘A very new life for the Lucky One.’ Starring Tom Holland.

A new beginning.

Maybe he was lucky. Though he never wanted to be in the spotlight. He constantly was, though.

Except, of course, for the fact that Haz hadn’t really answered his text the way he wanted to.

Haz probably didn’t believe Tom that he was in the city.

He would just knock at the door then.

“Well man, I hope whatever kind of role you want you get it,” the driver had said as Tom had hopped off.

Harrison’s building was far from fancy. Harrison had often described it as an ‘affordable pigsty’. Tom wouldn’t describe it as anything else.

But it was perfect. The perfect stage for his new charade.

Tom carried the now heavier backpack and suitcase up and was lucky enough that someone had entered the building so he could go up and show up uninvited to Haz’s apartment. If he could call it that.

He knocked, two times and Haz opened the door.

“Piss off, you’re not actually here!” Was the way Haz had decided to greet.

Tom laughed. “I fucking am.”

“You bastard,” Haz grinned before pulling his friend into a hug. “No way, I didn’t believe you. Man, I’m so glad to see you!”

“You too, man your place is…” Tom couldn’t finish.

“A pigsty but it’s home, I’ll make some place.”

And they had.

Haz had left a few years ago, with a dream in his head and a chance to make it. Or… a chance to get a chance to make it.

Leaving London had been quite such a simple decision for him. An inspiring actor that could’ve made it back at home but decided to leave for New York? It was stupid, honestly. Very anticlimactic of him.

But like Tom, Harrison had to escape before he was pulled in.

Just like Tom had been, tangled up. Tom’s ‘big break’ had yet to come but his family had managed to get him to the rising star he was.

He loved what he did, acting was definitely his true passion but not like this. Not buying his way into parts, not going out with someone so he could be considered. Hanging around with the right people just so they could get him a role.

Haz had gone for plays instead, and Tom knew he was fantastic. But he also had to get his big break. The industry had a funny way to say this.

“So, you just left?” Haz asked with a beer in his hand as he’d taken Tom to his favorite bar. Beers were cheaper there, and given that it was a Thursday, the happy hour lasted longer.

The bar was different from what Tom had expected. An old jukebox that was playing odd songs, colorful things. Very odd.

“I bloody just left,” Tom admitted. “What was I supposed to do?”

Harrison rubbed his face, “I dunno.”

“I couldn’t keep pretending,” Tom said, as he played with the bottle. “I—It wasn’t me.”

“But didn’t you just get cast in—something important?” He questioned.

Tom sighed, “Not for talent, no.”

He had seen a girl walk up to the jukebox and pay again to play “Twist and Shout” by The Beatles, she moved her head along to the song.

“Man, who bloody cares?” Haz rolled his eyes bringing the attention back to him. “You’re getting somewhere! You look pretty, you’re cool, and you’re getting somewhere.”

Tom knew where Haz was coming from. Things were going perfectly, one could argue. But it didn’t feel real. It was just a game of make believe where Tom had eventually been dug in.

“It wasn’t that,” Tom admitted. “Ella gave me an ultimatum.”

Harrison stopped, probably now understanding more why he had left. “And how do you feel about that?”

Tom stared at his beer. “Not how I’m supposed to.”

Harrison watched him. “One can only pretend for so long.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighed as he undressed the beer bottle.

“Does anyone know you escaped?” Haz asked.

Tom grimaced, pulling out his phone, turned off. “No, well, Harry knows, I told him I had left but didn’t tell him where to,” he said before unwillingly turning it back on, to show the billion notifications popping up. Multiple text messages, missed calls. “I need a new phone so I can keep this one turned off.”

“I think you should tell someone, otherwise they’re going to call the police or something,” Haz suggested.

Tom sighed, “Before I do let me go get another round,” he said as he headed to the bar.

Though Tom should’ve known right then and there that his life would change, he was very oblivious as he saw a couple. The beautiful girl sitting right beside… some guy. The very same girl who had played ‘Twist and Shout’.

She wasn’t smiling anymore, and Tom could only interpret her stare as something unpleasant. The guy and her were both stiff.

Tom couldn’t blame the guy because he was often criticized for also being like him. Not being able to make the beautiful girl beside him smile. Not understanding her worth and brilliance as anyone else in the room did.

She had dressed up, it seemed, just for her very date and he was just… there. The guy was simply an unuseful accessory adorning her side. His eyes were glued to the TV on the bar, a program that seemed to be very uneventful.

Tom often liked overhearing conversations, and this time wasn’t an exception.

“I recently discovered my new collection,” the girl said. Tom noticed the scarf on her neck,“I will start collecting bottle caps.”

The guy looked over, “Is it going to be for your new project that you’ll never finish?”

“I will finish it,” she said as she took off the scarf, now playing with it, tying and untying it. “And I’m going to ask Ben here to save me as many as he can.”

“Y/N,” the guy said. Pretty name, thought Tom. Fitting. “You never finish them.”

“Art is never finished, William,” the girl, y/n, defended again. “It’s only… abandoned.”

“My point,” The guy, William, rolled her eyes, “You never get through with them.”

“I do,” she defended herself. “You just never pay attention to it.”

Tom watched her frustration. Even then the guy wasn’t really into the conversation. He didn’t blame him, really. But he was more on y/n’s side.

“I think you should pay attention to more important stuff. Instead of wasting your time doing whatever.”

“Art isn't whatever,” she sighed, and then frowned, noticing Tom was watching them.

“I’m not saying it’s whatever, y/n, but you’ve got to have other dreams rather than collecting beer caps.”

Y/N looked away, “It’s for a painting.”

“A painting you’ll get bored of eventually, it’s always the same, y/n,” the guy was still too busy with his own beer watching the TV.

Y/N clenched her jaw but then directed her glance at Tom, still intrigued by the conversation.

Tom cleared his throat as he finally got his beers, the guy opened them for him but Tom asked for the beer caps.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but listen,” Tom admitted before giving her the beer caps. “Good luck on your project.” The girl finally smiled as the guy accompanying her glared at him.

Tom shrugged and dedicated them both a smile before going back to Harrison. Had Tom been William he would’ve appreciated that someone made his girl smile, it was a waste not to share her smile with the world.

And Tom, out of everyone, understood what the girl had said, people bringing him down were always for him so to have genuine support from a stranger would help her. And him.

Yes never getting anything done but still having a passion for it was accomplishment enough.

“So what’s your plan?” Haz asked as soon as he was back. Tom watched the girl, still.

“I have none,” Tom admitted, watching as y/n and William were still arguing, probably now over the fact that Tom had left the beer caps. He didn’t feel guilty, even when both of them were pointing at him as the argument kept going. “I will just—Get a break for a few days. A well deserved vacation.”

Haz watched him. “Right.”

“You know, be a tourist,” Tom shrugged. “I—I dunno I just needed to get out,” Tom sipped from his bottle as his eyes were glued to the couple, now arguing loudly but not loud enough to be understood.

Haz followed his gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“Dunno, they’re odd,” Tom shrugged. But they weren’t really. He just saw his future, so uninterested to the girl beside him.

“Not really, you should get used to that,” Haz said. “But—You’re going to tell Harry, right!”

“Problem is,” Tom brought back the attention to Haz. “I don’t think Harry will be able to keep the secret.”

Harrison crossed his arms. “What are you really doing here Tom? You do realize that you’re hurting everyone—“

“Yeah, yeah fuck that, I know, I feel guilty. But—I can’t anymore. I couldn’t fucking stay there, not anymore,” Tom snapped. “It’s not Ella’s fault. Well not entirely but—“

“No, I know,” Haz rolled his eyes, “guess the perfect life can get boring.”

Harrison thought so too then. That Tom had the perfect life. How was it perfect? How was it really? Tom was not perfect. He was far from it, nothing about it was spectacular. He wasn’t living. Even though everyone around him thought he was having the time of his life Tom couldn’t help but feel miserable.

He wasn’t getting what he truly wanted. He didn’t enjoy the roles he was getting or the parties he was attending. He was far from what his dream was. And though his ‘breakout’ would come eventually and he’d have the chance to be who he wanted to be, it wasn’t coming any time soon and he doubted that he’d be able to be happy.

Or maybe he would be. He needed a break.

Tom caught up with Haz, his life, his misery and whatever the conversation led to, it’s fair to say that Tom’s head could barely pay any attention. His decision was sinking. He’d escaped his life.

He saw the girl from before leave, with the guy following her with frustration.

“They’re gonna break up,” Haz said watching them too.

Tom saw the girl had left the unfashionable red scarf behind.

He expected them to come back for them but they didn’t.

Eventually, Tom and Haz left. Tom picked up the scarf. He tried to say that it was a little reminder that he’d helped someone. He had actually been drawn to it. He couldn’t explain why. So he kept that idea.

Of course, he’d seen the red scarf and then regretted instantly taking it. Haz had judged him too.

“Why the fuck would you pick up a stranger’s scarf?”

“Because.”

The next day, with very little sleep and a bit of a headache from the jet lag and the beers, and after telling Haz he’d be productive, he decided he wouldn’t be and instead he wanted to visit a museum. Again, he was unsure as to why he wanted to go there. Lately he only followed his instinct.

But then again he had escaped so he could do whatever he wanted, and going to a museum seemed like something they’d never expect him to do. So that’s what he did.

But of course, he didn’t know much about art or anything so he decided he’d end up at the MET. Where else would he start?

He had planned getting on the subway but he decided he didn’t have time to memorize it and he didn’t want to look like an idiot so instead he took another cab. He didn’t tell the drivers this time any poetic bullshit.

When he got to the MET, he was immediately lost. Tom had this stupid habit of never knowing where the hell he was.

He didn’t mind this time. He would take the time to explore, to think to himself. To stare and read and to learn a little.

How ironic it seemed to be at the place where so many people were at. Basic, maybe but he was still enjoying it.

The big walls and endless exhibitions were making him feel small. And he hadn’t felt that way in a while. He liked that.

His path wasn’t being decided and he only followed his heart. He got to the musical instruments exhibitions.

A piano made him stop. It resonated with him. In some sorts, or it was interesting enough for him to make him stop.

“That’s the oldest surviving piano,” a voice mentioned from behind.

Tom blinked, realizing he had stared too long at it. “Oh?” He looked back at the voice and though Tom did not believe in coincidences he couldn’t help but think this was an oddly magical one.

The beer cap girl from the night before.

“Yeah, it dates back to 1538 and was created by—pardon my pronunciation—Bartolomeo Cristofori, the Italian man who is credited with inventing the piano,” she said, staring at it too. Her hair was slightly messed up. Wearing an overall that was covered with slight paint stains, a white cardigan over it.

“Oh, I would’ve never thought that,” Tom said. “It looks old.”

“Yeah,” she hadn’t looked at him, she was too entranced by it, her arms were crossed. “It's very old.”

Tom stared at her instead, how weird it was. He should’ve brought the scarf. No, that would’ve been weird, weirder than taking it.

“So you work here?” Tom questioned.

“No, I’m just incredibly good at lying,” she stated.

“Wha-what?”

“That fact I gave you, yeah that was a lie,” she grinned and finally turned to him. She tilted her head.

“Oh it sounded… very real,” Tom felt like an idiot.

“Yeah, I’ve worked on that for a while, lying to tourists, you’re my first one of the day,” she said. “So, a pleasure lying to someone with an accent.”

“It sounded very real,” Tom cleared his throat.

“I know, it’s a real fact, just slightly twisted,” she grinned. “I gave you the date wrong.”

Tom coughed. “Oh.”

“Yeah, and you straight up believed me,” she grinned. “The date is right there yet you listened to a random weirdo,” she grinned.

Tom blushed, “well, you sounded very—“

“No, don’t feel bad, it’s an art, lying to people,” she grinned.

He nodded in agreement.

She watched him curiously, “Do I know you?”

Tom faked to not recognize her. “I don’t think so.”

She narrowed her eyes, examining him head to toe. Then stopping at his face. “No, wait, were you at Bennie’s Beer Garden last night?”

She had recognized him.

“Uh—I was at a bar,” he decided to fake ignorance. “Oh—“he snapped his finger. “Wait are you—?”

“Beer cap girl, yeah,” she smiled. “Yeah, that was me, but I looked better last night.”

Tom smiled, “No, you look fine.”

“What a coincidence, thanks for the beer caps, by the way,” she chuckled. “How weird, and now you’re the first one I lie to.”

“It’s a pleasure, thank you,” Tom laughed.

“You must think I’m crazy, collecting beer caps and lying to strangers,” she blushed now, stepping back from him.

Tom did think that. In a good way. The girl seemed to be whatever he wanted to be: a fucking weirdo that don’t give two shits about anything in life.

“Surprisingly, no,” Tom shook his head. “I would lie to people instead if I was good at lying.”

Ironic, it seemed. Didn’t he make a living out of lying? Didn’t he technically lie his way through life?

“Yes, it's very tiring work, people say they don’t like being lied to,” she said. “I do, that’s why I love reading whatever is trending on twitter.”

Tom cackled, and turned his attention back to the piano.

“I’m y/n, by the way,” she mentioned casually.

“Tom,” he answered simply.

Y/N nodded. “So, Tom, what's your favorite lie supplier?”

“I watch movies,” he said, “or celebrity gossip.”

“A classic,” Y/N grinned. “Yeah, we all choose the lies we want to believe, I guess.”

“People like that, believing lies and feeling like they’re true,” Tom gave in. “Especially if they’re pretty. They help us escape reality.”

Y/N nodded slowly, and smirked. “We are getting deep now, huh?”

What the fuck did New York do to Tom that he randomly said poetic bullshit to strangers. He was embarrassed. “I—sorry.”

“No, no, I like that,” y/n was excited. “I guess you’re right. Lies are a way to cover something.”

“Yes, sometimes lying means protecting,” Tom bit his lip.

Y/N tilted her head. “Is it really?” She didn’t want to agree. “I would say lying is a way to actively hurt someone.”

“Well, were you trying to hurt me with your lie?” Tom challenged.

She licked her lips, defeated. “In a way,” she gave in. “I was trying to misinform you. So.”

“Well, what if the truth hurts more?” Tom questioned.

Y/N took a deep breath. “Then it’s a paradox.”

“Excuse me,” Someone interrupted them. “I’m sorry, y/n? I thought you weren’t coming today.”

Y/N smiled, “oh yeah, I wasn’t, I just forgot something in my locker and decided to walk around.”

The other guy turned to Tom. “Did she give you a fake fact?”

Tom chuckled, “she most certainly did.”

“Y/N, you can’t keep doing that,” the guy warned her. “You’re gonna get fired.”

Y/N grinned as she watched the guy go.

“I thought you didn’t work here,” Tom chuckled.

Y/N smiled mischievously, “I do, just another lie I said to you. You’re very lucky, two lies in one.”

Tom chuckled. “huh. Yeah, lucky me.”

“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me, little British man,” she grinned. “I’ll go lie to other people, nice lying to you.”

Tom grinned. “Yeah, yeah, nice… believing your lies.”

“Enjoy the Met,” she grinned. “Hope I get to see you again, thanks for the beer caps.”

“Thanks for the… lies,” he said, watching her leave. Maybe he was lucky.

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[twdeadfanfic]

Vows Pt. 7

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

Warning, there are reader and Negan scenes in this chapter, but also there’s Daryl...and not only on flashback.

After another few days of playing nice, and you decided to go ahead and talk to Negan about the living conditions of your people. This time, you didn’t go to wait for him in his bedroom, instead, you waited for a day in which he called for you, hoping that he’d be in a good mood after it.

So, there you were now, trying to not be embarrassed about being naked, resisting the urge to cover yourself with the sheet. Negan was lying against the headboard and you shifted to straddle him, trying to summon your best seductress black widow performance, feeling less and less stupid every time that you tried.

“Look at you, wanting a second round already?” Negan teased with a  smug smirk. “Where’s that girl who’d squirm away every time I looked at her?” He chuckled and you shrugged, not knowing how to answer.

“I…I wanted to ask you something…” You began, and Negan’s smirk grew.

“So…this is not just you wanting me…tks tks…I’m disappointed,” he chuckled. “What is it, doll, more chocolate?”

“No…not, not that…it’s…” You chewed on your lip, not sure of how to word it, and Negan’s smile was gone.

“Spit it, doll.”

“I wanted to talk to you about my people…the ones you have here…” You forced yourself to speak. “You have them in those cages…”

“Yes,” Negan interrupted you. “Alive and non tortured, as you asked.”

“I know, I know, and  I’m very grateful, you gave me everything I asked for.” You almost gagged at your own words. “But those cages…being all day inside those, the darkness, no fresh air, for weeks…it feels almost like torture.

“No. Torture would be blasting music so they don’t sleep and beating them from time to time,” Negan stated as nothing, and you were running out of ideas.

“I know…but still…can’t you…can’t you let them out, even if just for an hour? So they can see light and breath?”

Negan blinked at you. “Absolutely fucking not…you are not really asking me that, are yo,u doll?” He sounded dangerous, but it didn’t intimidate you, and you tried your best pout.

“I am…I’m not saying to let them go, or have them all day outside the cage, just an hour ?” You tried pouting again. “You say that people are resources…Rick and the others, they’re resources, but you are wasting them unused. Let them out for an hour while you have them working for you. You had a good eye, got some of the most resourceful, Rosita is incredible with bombs and stuff like that, she can build you an arsenal...”

“Last time I got someone of yours working on my weapons, they made bullets explode in my men’s hands, doll…”

“That won’t happen again, they learned their lesson,” you tried to assure him, and Negan just looked at you in silence for once. “Please, Negan, please.” You pouted again.

Negan kept looking at you, studying you, and you were getting anxious, but then he smirked,  looking you up and down, and you tried once again not to be embarrassed by your nakedness.

“Okay, doll, you ask, I give,” he chuckled, her smug smirk growing. “They can leave the cell from time to time, just one at a time, get some work done, with my guys watching over them, ready to shoot them if they try something.”

You forced yourself to grin, wrapping your arms around him to hug him briefly, somehow you hated the hugs more than the kisses and even the sex, but you try to use everything to your advantage.

“Thank you, thank you!” You peck his lips, trying to sound so sweet that you feel your teeth rotting.

Negan chuckled and reached to cup your face. “Not so fast, darling…” He said with that dark smile and you froze, wondering if he’d tricked you and what was he going to do. “I want something in exchange.”

“What?” You asked with dread, trying not to sound scared, and Negan’s smile grew.

“Tell me that you love me.”

“What?” You blinked at him

“Tell me that you love me,” he repeated with that smug, yet menacing grin. “I don’t know…I can see you’ve been thinking about your friends a lot, yeah? That includes Daryl, uh? Sure you have…” He chuckled. “It kind of feels like you still love him too much…” Seriously? Did he expect you not to? “But…what about me?” You just blinked at Negan, unable to find words. Did he really expect you to love him or just to pretend it? “Don’t you love me?”

“I…” You knew he wanted you to say it, but it felt so wrong. “I love you like Amber loves you.” It’s a way of saying it that it’s not a lie.

Negan chuckled, seeming amused. “Good try, doll. Do you want your friends to leave those shit holes?” He asked and you nodded. “Then fucking say it, say I love you, Negan.”

It tasted like ashes in your mouth, but you spat it out. “I love you, Negan.”

His smirk grew as he looked at you. “Again, with a little bit more of feeling? Come on…because you mean it, right?”

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to spit at him. “I love you.”

Negan’s dark smile went wider. “Better. Again.”

“I love you.”

“Good girl...Now come here…” Negan grabbed your hips, moving you off him and dropping you onto your back, and you tried to think that at least you had won your friends some sunlight and fresh air…

*

Later that day, you were in your room, sat down on the bed against the headboard, hugging Daryl’s shirt to you, inhaling the scent that almost wasn’t there anymore.

You couldn’t believe that you had said to Negan that you loved him, even if it was a lie, even if you didn’t mean it…you couldn’t believe that he wanted you to say it even if he had to know it was a lie, no matter his ego, and he wanted you to sound genuine…But when finally you were allowed to leave his room, he’d told you that starting tomorrow, Daryl and the others could go out the cages from time to time, so it was worthy…

It was so different from that first time you told Daryl that you loved him, when you meant every word, with a love stronger and fiercer than you’d ever felt before…

Then…

The Greene’s farm, your heaven-sent safe place, had fallen the night before under a sea of walkers in which had been the most terrifying moment of your life, riding behind Daryl on his bike, holding tight to him, burying your face in his back while monsters snapped and reached for you both every where, until you managed to reach the intersection and find the others…the ones who hadn’t died, at least.

Now, it was night again, and you all were camped in the middle of nowhere. You were sat down on the ground between Daryl’s legs, lying against his chest, and he’d an arm around you while the other held his crossbow, looking around while he kept watch.

You glanced at Rick, doing the same at the other side of the camp, and then looked at Daryl. “Hey…you really think that we can trust him?” You nodded towards Rick. “All that stuff he said before…I don’t know, Daryl, he sounded kind of dangerous…”

“Nah, Rick’s a good guy,” Daryl assured you. “Just…he got like that ‘cause all the shit that’s goin’ on…but we can trust him, we’ll be good if we stick with him.”

It was almost funny, to hear Daryl speak like that about Rick, holding him with such regard, considering how much he’d hated him not that long ago. “Okay.” You nodded. “I don’t know if I trust Rick…but I trust you.”

Daryl didn’t say anything, but his arm tightened around you and he nuzzled your hair before kissing your temple. You smiled, he could be so sweet and caring sometimes, and he slowly was letting himself show that side more and more…you loved it…and you loved him, with so much force…

“Daryl…” You looked at him again. “I love you.”

Daryl didn’t say anything, just looked at you, but you didn’t miss the emotion in his eyes, and then he dropped his head to nuzzle your neck, placing a soft kiss on your skin and burying his face on the crook of your shoulder. He stayed like that, not pulling back, and you chuckled, it melted your heart a bit. You kissed the top of his head and began to stroke the hair at the back of his neck. You didn’t think much of Daryl not saying I love you back, he showed you in his way, and you knew it’d take him time to say it with words, you weren’t going to push him.

Several months later, you were laying down on your back over the grass of the prison fence that you had managed to clear of walkers, and you smiled, looking at the stars. You were safe behind fences, and tomorrow, you’d make sure you had walls too.

Everyone was already asleep, or trying, besides Daryl and Rick, who were taking watch around the perimeter. Eventually, you fell asleep, and you woke up some hours later, when you felt Daryl lying down next to you, his shift having ended, now time for T-Dog’s.

“’night…” You whispered and Daryl just hummed, throwing an arm over you and pillowing his head on your chest. You smiled, kissing the top of his head and wrapping an arm around him, stroking his hair with your other hand. You had almost fallen asleep again when you felt Daryl muttering something against your neck, but it was so quiet and muffled that you couldn’t quite catch it. “What?”

For a moment, Daryl didn’t say anything, and you thought he might have been talking in his sleep, but then he pulled back slightly to whisper again, “I love you.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through you at Daryl’s words, and you almost giggled, giddy. “I love you too,” you whispered back, holding Daryl tighter to you. “So much that I can’t even explain it…”

Now…

You lied on your bed at the Sanctuary, holding Daryl’s shirt to you too, trying not to cry on it, afraid that it’d make the scent disappear even more, and you tried to sleep…

*

The next day, Negan came looking for you, and you were going to head for his bedroom, but instead he took you outside the wive’s room, leading you through the Sanctuary and outside, pointing to you stuff here and there as he gloated about the place.

“I told you I’d let your dear friends outside, doll…and today is Rick’s day.” Negan gave you that dark grin as he walked you outside, and then he waved towards the fences.

You saw Rick there, forced to work with some other people, a couple of saviors not far from them, watching over them, making sure they worked and stayed in line. They were reinforcing the fences and also moving walkers here and there, using them as protection for the fences too. It seemed dangerous, with the walkers snapping to them, and you felt uneasy with Rick working there.

“Isn’t that dangerous? They could get bitten…” You said, looking from Rick to Negan, who kept smirking darkly at you.

“I’m sure Ricky boy can handle himself,” Negan said, patting your cheek. “You wanted him outside the cage, right?”

“Yeah…” But not at risk of getting bitten…but if he kept staying in a dark cell day after day, that couldn’t be good either…you didn’t know what to think.

“You got it.” Negan grinned. “And not even a thank you?”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. “Thank you, Negan,” you forced yourself to say.

You looked at Rick, he had spotted you now from the distance, and you arched your eyebrows at him, trying to silently ask him if he was okay. He nodded and did the same to you, and you nodded too. It was something, you guessed…

*

The next day, you didn’t get to see her, but you knew that it was Rosita’s turn to go out of the cage and get some air and sunlight, though you didn’t know how much sunlight , since Negan told you that he had her working checking and putting together explosives and bombs, since you had told him she was good at that. You kind of wondered if Rosita might not go ahead and try to blow up the Sanctuary with all of you included…

You wondered, too, when it’d be Daryl’s turn to get out of the cell. You didn’t ask, though, the less you talked to Negan about Daryl, the better, you were sure of that, and even if you wanted to see Daryl, check how he was, you thought that it’d be better if Daryl didn’t see you. You knew it’d hurt him, and you didn’t want him to have to worry about you, he had enough, you were faring better than him, and you didn’t want him to have to see you with Negan, afraid that he’d try to taunt Daryl or anything like that.

In a couple of days, though, your wishes were crushed, when Negan toured you around the Sanctuary again, and as you got closer and closer to an open door, you realized that there were the bathrooms, and Daryl was inside mopping, a savior near him with a gun pointed to him.

You stopped and began to backtrack, even though you saw that Daryl’s eyes had found you already, but Negan grabbed your arm hard and didn’t let you move away.

“I want to go back, please,” you told him, trying to turn around. “Thanks for the walk but I want to go back now.”

“But I don’t want to.” Negan smiled darkly at you, and then he pushed you in front of him, placing his hand on your neck to push you forward and make you walk to the bathrooms.

“Negan, please, I don’t want to,” you tried again, trying to resist and squirm from his grasp, but Negan kept walking you forward…this couldn’t be good, he wouldn’t have brought you there if he didn’t want to rail up Daryl in any way…what if he began telling him what you and he did night in, night out…

You were about to struggle again, but you noticed the shift in Daryl’s eyes and stopped, realizing that he thought Negan was hurting you. You were about to shake your head, try to reassure him, Negan didn’t hurt you physically and you knew neither was now his intention, he just wanted to take the piss at Daryl and you, but it was too late.

Daryl threw the mope to the ground with a growl, and he tried to go to you, but the savior holding him at gunpoint kicked the butt of his rifle against his head, and then pointed it to his head. You were so scared that he was about to shoot Daryl, your heart seemed to stop beating.

“No! Stop!” You didn’t know if you were yelling to the savior or to Daryl, but the savior didn’t shoot, just kept pressing the riffle to Daryl’s head, and so you called for him. “Daryl! Stop! I’m okay, stop!” You could see Daryl shaking in rage, but he stopped trying to do anything, so you turned to look at Negan. “Do something!”

“What? Do I tell my savior to shoot?” Negan grinned at you and you glared at him. “I’m kidding, sweetheart…Alan! Get Daryl back to his cage.” The savior nodded, pushing Daryl with the riffle to make him turn around and face Negan, who was blocking the corridor, you next to him.  

Negan looked at you and grinned again. “I must say, I’m fucking impressed, doll…the way you yelled at them? And they listened and stopped…fucking impressive, darling….wasn’t it, Alan?” Negan asked, and the savior nodded curtly. “Maybe I should change your job, have you out here, giving orders, keeping everyone in line.” Negan joked, and you shrugged, uncomfortable. “But no…I enjoy you way more in the bedroom.” Negan chuckled and kissed you, grasping your chin and holding your face in place so you couldn’t pull back, even if you hated that he was kissing you in front of Daryl.

When Negan pulled back, he chuckled as he looked at your face, before turning to the savior and Daryl again. “Now…this shit can’t happen again, are we clear? Or the next time, my guys will blow up your head, okay?” Negan said, but Daryl didn’t say anything, and the savior nodded curtly again.

You knew the threat was real, and you looked at Daryl with begging eyes, asking him to play along, so he wouldn’t get hurt or killed.

“It won’t happen again, he thought, he…” You didn’t know if it was a good idea to say that Daryl’d thought that Negan was hurting you, he took such pride in boasting about how good he treated his spoiled wives...

“What?” Negan looked at Daryl again. “What did you think, doggy Daryl, uh?” He smirked darkly, but Daryl just shook in rage, silent. “That I’m shagging your ex-girl every night? That you wanted to rip my throat open with your bare teeth like the dog you are? Yeah…I know.” Negan chuckled.

You didn’t like where this was going, and you were scared that Daryl might snap at any moment and he’d be shot, so you reached to held Negan’s arm, trying to get his attention. “He got it, okay? Can we go back to the room?”

“Oh, you’re eager today, aren’t you?” Negan chuckled, grabbing your chin and kissing your lips again. “Sure, doll…maybe if we get at it all night long I’ll change my mind about not letting Daryl leave his cage to clean our bathrooms and eat something that’s not dog food anymore after his little outburst here.”

Negan chuckled again, kissing you once more, and you let him do it even if you hated it as much as his words.

“Okay…Alan,” Negan called for the savior, though he was still looking at you. “Get the dog back to his kennel and bring Ezekiel to finish what Daryl didn’t…I’m gonna go fuck my wife.”

You didn’t say anything, didn’t dare to look at Daryl. Negan reached to grab your neck again, turning you around and pushing at you to walk in front of him, and you let him. Negan was demanding and possessive, but he’d never touched you or any of the others in that way, as far as you were aware, so you guessed that he was putting on even more of a show for Daryl, trying to rail him up.

You hated it…the last thing that Daryl needed was to think that Negan was hurting you in any way. You knew him, he’d worry, beat himself about it, drive himself crazy, when in reality, you weren’t doing that bad, you could endure sleeping with Negan, you had learned to, it kept your people safe, and your living conditions were way better than much others at the Sanctuary…but you had no way to let Daryl know that, not with Negan deciding to be even more of a prick just to get a reaction out of Daryl…

*

Negan did get a reaction out of Daryl, in an even worse way that you could have imagined, but you were oblivious to it all, sheltered in the wive’s room, with no idea of what was going on outside, until a couple of days later, when Negan stormed into the wives room.

“Y/N!”

Negan’s voice boomed as he called for you, and you paled as you heard it, knowing instantly that something was wrong, he never yelled like that to his wives when you all were pleasant to him. When you rushed to him, your anxiety and fear got even worse when you saw he was holding his bat.

“You know what your feral, dumb, dog did!?” He yelled at you…Daryl, something must have happened with Daryl… oh no…you were terrified but you managed to shake your head.

“He pretended to be dead when one of my saviors opened his cage, an idiot it seems, because he decided to check if your rabid dog was dead! And he wasn’t’! He grabbed the guy, bashed his head against the wall like the feral bitch he is! They found him trying to sneak in here, that stupid dog, as if he would have been able.”

Oh no…oh no…this was bad…it was getting harder to breathe as you panicked more and more… Daryl had tried to come for you, he must have really thought that you were being mistreated and abused…there was no way he wouldn’t try to go to you if he thought that…and for that he’d hurt a savior, maybe killed him, and escaped his cage…this was bad…you should have tried better to assure Daryl that you were okay, a note, something… now it was too late.

“Did you…” You tried to force words out of your mouth. “Did you kill him?”

Negan scoffed. “That’s all you care about, of course…” He grabbed your chin, making you look at him, and for a moment you thought he might bash Lucille in your head no matter you were a wife. “What if I did? He’s nothing to you now. You’re mine.”

“We have a deal…not killing him, not torturing him,” you found the courage to say.

Negan chuckled, letting go of your face. “You’re bringing up that shit now? You’re something else, doll…that deal goes to hell the moment someone pulls the shit that the stupid dog did…but it stands for your other friends…unless you wanna leave?”

You shook your head at that, you knew that right at that moment, Negan was a step away from just going ahead and killing everyone else of your friends in their cages…but no, they were resources, they kept the people back at home in their toes…you wouldn’t let Negan blackmail you with that…Daryl’d be the only one he’d kill…

“So did you kill him or not?” You asked even if you were scared of the answer.

“No,” Negan said, but the look in his eyes stopped you from being relieved. “Not yet. Not fast. But I’m going to…and you’re going to watch in the first row!” Negan grabbed your arm. “Also, all of you.” He waved the bat around, talking to the other wives. “You’re coming too, I spoiled you all too much, you need to remember what happens if someone crosses me like this. I want everyone in the Sanctuary to watch this.”

With that, he tugged at you, dragging you with him, and you knew better than to try to resist.

*

Well...shit happened.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

New taglist for Daryl,I trimmed it, if you want to be tagged let me know and also, please, if you are not interested in being tagged anymore let me know too

@coffeebooksandfandom​  @gruffle1  @yenne-yen-illustrations  @sourwolf-sterek32  @lonewolf471​  @daryldixonandfrogs​    @collecting-stories​ @princessxpunk​    @smiithys​    @captainbuckyboobear​   @dazzledamazon​   @spidergirla5​ @lilythemadqueen​ @lightning-butterfly​ @purplebtsmagic​  @courtnytrash04​       @seizethesam​    @fuseburner​ @phoenixblack89​  @boywivlove​  @amaroho​ @woundmetender​  @classyunknownlover​ @tenderlyunlikelyexpert​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @sttrawberries​ @huffledor-able541​ @browneyes528​ @soraitmnt​  @thereshallbenoother​ @leej2468​  @heartlessmarvello​  @redneckstrash​ @bitchynicole​   @supernatural79impala​     @thiccblondeliv​ @maggie-l-m​ @baseballbitch116​ @sweatywildpanda​ @theteaset​  @amaroho​ @my-current-fandom-is​   @whitexwingedxdoves​ @nickangel13​ @oceans-daughter-3​  @tuttifuckinfruttifriday​

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 5/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  even though you were determined to leave the palace as soon as you could, you now find yourself waking up in a luxurious room of the palace months later  Warnings: angst Word count:  4.7K..... yea A/N: for the sake of this series, nikolai never gave alina the lantsov emerald lol also this turned out longer than I planned it to be but do I regret it? maybe a bit not in the slightest, enjoy reading! :) (also I know I posted part 4 like yesterday but I want this one out there cause a lot happens & I want to post part 6 & 7 so bad) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 add yourself to my tag lists here 

For someone who had dreaded going to Os Alta, you find yourself starting to actually like it. After pulling you aside, out of earshot of your father, Nikolai explained to you why he told your father he’d picked you as his bride.

When he told you it was to ensure he couldn’t control your life any longer, you got confused, asking him why he would do such thing. In response, he recalled the conversation you had at the gardens, when you told him your father had been controlling your entire life, and how people had made decisions for him his entire life as well. 

Nikolai merely said he thought you deserved to make your own choices for once. Even if it meant living at the palace, far away from Ketterdam.

You had agreed to stay at the palace. You knew you couldn’t go back to Ketterdam now. The news of Nikolai picking you as his bride would probably travel faster than you’d like to.

While you did like Nikolai, and you enjoyed the little time you had spent with him, you made it clear you still didn’t want to marry him. That a part of still longed for Ketterdam. 

Nikolai listened to you explaining your choices, and respected them. While both of you knew all eyes would be on you after announcing the engagement, you also knew you couldn’t push it back any further. Not after all the rumours. 

He did agree to wait with picking an actual wedding date, giving you enough time to get used to your new life. You had told him you had no intention of marrying him, but over time you found yourself thinking more and more about it.

You’re amazed by the palace, and the life you live now. Every day, you walk around the palace, finding new routes and rooms. You start to think you might never see all of it in one lifetime. And you visit the gardens as well. 

You keep the yellow flower Nikolai had given you next to the mirror in your room. But you’d never tell him that, he’d tease you endlessly about it. 

As more weeks pass by, you spend more time with Nikolai, as well as his triumvirate. He’d invited you to few of their meetings, telling you if you ever did get married, you’d have to attend them as well. And the sooner you got used to it, the better.

At first, it felt a little weird. You walk around with Nikolai and everyone knows you as his future bride. While it feels odd, Nikolai’s presence is a comforting one. And the more you get to know him, the more you actually start to like him. Maybe staying at the palace wouldn’t be so bad as you thought it would be.

He spends a lot of time getting to know you. You have long conversations about your life in Ketterdam and his time in the army. About both of your dreams for the future, and what you want to achieve. But you also talk about small and simple things such as your favourite dish, or a book you love. 

Most of the talks take place in the gardens or your room. You like getting to know the Nikolai beneath the mantle of king. You start to realise the two of you aren’t so different. If you had been born in a different city, you might have been childhood friends. 

On a particularly sunny spring morning, the two of you walk around the gardens again. Nikolai doesn’t even have to offer his arm to you, you already place your hand on it. After some time, you’ve slipped into an easy morning routine, which sometimes includes a walk through the gardens.

‘How long until the Summers Week blooms again?’ you ask him as you walk past the familiar bush.

Nikolai glances at the same bush. ‘Probably a couple of months.’ he says. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I think they’re beautiful.’ you as the two of you sit down on the same bench you sat on so many months ago, when you had escaped the ball. ‘It really is a shame they only bloom for such a short period of time.’ 

‘Do you still have that one flower I gave you when we met?’ asks Nikolai.

You glare at him. You just know he’d never let you forget it if he knew you kept it. ‘Yes.’ you say. ‘I wouldn’t throw it away.’

And indeed, a smug look appears on Nikolai’s face. ‘I’m delighted you didn’t throw it away.’ he says. 

You playfully roll your eyes. ‘I expect a new one when they bloom again.’ you say.

‘I’ll make sure to give you one, sweetheart.’ he says with a smile. 

You feel your cheeks heat up at the mention of the nickname. He’d called you nicknames on more than one occasion. You still weren’t used to it. Maybe it had to do something with the fact that Nikolai seems to always look good.

You look at the bush again, getting lost in your thoughts. Nikolai seems to notice. After a while of silence, he speaks up.

‘What’s on your mind?’ he asks you.

You wonder when get got so good at reading your face. ‘I’ve been thinking about, well, all of this.’ you say, gesturing to the gardens and the palace behind you. 

Nikolai turns so he can properly look at you. ‘And?’ he says.

‘I have to admit, life at the grand palace isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. And it has been nice not to have my father following me around all day long. I still miss Ketterdam, but maybe not as much as I used to.’ you say. 

You briefly look at Nikolai and notice a faint smile on his lips as he’s listening to you.

‘Plus, the company isn’t so bad.’ you say. ‘I know I made it clear I didn’t want this. But the time I've spent here has been very nice. Everyone is so kind, and I love the walks around the palace.’

‘What exactly are you saying, Y/N?’ says Nikolai, though the look on his face tells you he already knows. 

You take a deep breath. ‘I’m saying I’m willing to do this. I think I could be happy here. I’m willing to marry you. Even it it’s just for the sake of Ravka. I’d rather marry you than some old merchant back in Kerch.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles. ‘That’s good to hear.’ he says. ‘Was it my dashing smile or charming personality that made you decide to stay?’

‘Don’t get cocky now, Nikolai.’ you chuckle.

‘Sweetheart, have you actually met me? I’ll always be cocky.’ he says. 

You laugh and Nikolai reaches out to take one of your hands in his.

‘But on a more serious note, I really am glad you decided to stay. I didn’t lie when I said you’re nice company.’ he says. ‘And now I can finally give you this.’

He gets something out of his pocket and holds it in his closed fist.

‘Close your eyes.’ he says.

You slightly raise your eyebrows. ‘Really?’ you say. 

‘Really.’ says Nikolai, smirking at you.

You do as he says and close your eyes. You feel how Nikolai lifts your hand and slides something on your finger. You feel the weight of it on your finger and can tell what it is before Nikolai tells you to open your eyes.

A ring with a beautiful green emerald sits on your finger. Your lips part in surprise. He doesn’t even have to say it, you know this ring.

‘This is the Lantsov emerald.’ you say as you look at him.

‘It’s really just an emerald like any others.’ says Nikolai, looking at your hand which is still in his. ‘But that is what most people call it, yes.’

You admire the ring on your finger. ‘It’s beautiful.’ you say. When you look up, you see Nikolai looking at you with an odd expression on his face.

‘What is it?’ you say.

He simply smiles at you and shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’ he says. He gets up and offers you his arm again. ‘Shall we go back to the palace? It’s almost lunch time.’ 

You nod and get up as well but instead of laying your hand on his arm, you grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with his instead. The two of you walk back to the palace, and you try to ignore the way people look at your left hand, clearly eyeing the emerald ring. 

This would be yet another rumour that would spread impossibly fast. You had to write another letter to the Crow Club soon. You’d rather have your friends find out through you, than because of rumours. 

You’d been writing letters to the Crows since you decided you stay at the palace. You told them about your life at the palace, and in return they told you what was going on in Ketterdam. 

You loved receiving letters from them. They each took turns writing you, and all of them signed the letter. 

Once you had lunch, Nikolai got called away to another meeting, and you went to your room to write a letter to Ketterdam. As usual, you started off by asking them how they were doing, if any jobs went wrong, and a new prediction on how many card games Jesper had lost. 

You then wrote about finally accepting the fact you’d marry Nikolai. Despite the chances being low they could attend, you invited them to the wedding anyway. You told them you’d send them a formal invitation with the date as soon as you picked a date. 

And then the chaos started. Genya insisted on being in charge of the planning, and she also sketched you a few designs for your wedding dress. They were all equally stunning, and you couldn’t pick one. Eventually, Nikolai picked the one he thought would suit you best.

Zoya was in charge of putting together the guest list. When she asked you who you wanted to invite, you gave her the names of the Crows. She seemed a bit taken aback you’d invite them because after all, they were criminals. You hadn’t yet told her you’d been part of the Crows for many years as well.

When you looked at the list she was writing, you noticed your father’s name on it as well. He’d sent you many letters, which you ignored. You took the pen from Zoya’s hand and crossed his name off the list without a word. 

Time seemed to fly by at an alarmingly speed. Before you know it, you wake up on the morning of your wedding. Until this day, it seemed like a strange concept somehow. As if you couldn’t fully realise it. 

But when your eyes land on your wedding dress, you feel like for the first time, the realisation of what’s about to happen finally sinks in. You would marry Nikolai. You would take his name and you would become a queen. Of a country that’s not even your own.

A knock on your door catches you off guard and you call for them to come in. Genya enters, followed by a few servants. She’s beaming at you, clearly excited about today.

‘Are you ready?’ she says.

‘More like the most nervous I’ve ever been.’ you say.

Genya smiles at you as she sits down on the bed next to you. ‘I understand you’re nervous.’ she says. ‘But I promise you it’ll be alright. We’ll all be here right beside you. And it’s just one day.’

‘One day of ceremonies and traditions and then I’m a queen.’ you say, having an uneasy feeling in your stomach. 

‘Nikolai will be there by your side. And we will be there as well.’ says Genya. ‘Now let’s get you in that dress.’

She rises to her feet and motions for you to get up as well. You hesitate. 

‘Could you, um, go and get Nikolai?’ you ask her, avoiding her eyes. ‘I want to talk to him.’

‘Of course.’ she says and she immediately leaves the room. You get up and start to pace the room, ignoring the servants who are patiently waiting for you. It doesn’t take long for Genya to return with Nikolai. 

Nikolai smiles at you and asks the servants and Genya to leave the room, which they do. 

By the looks of it, Genya caught him while he was getting dressed. His hair is still messy and his shirt is hastily tucked into his pants. He walks up to you, looking at you.

‘What can I do for you?’ he says. 

‘I’m nervous.’ you say.

‘If it helps, I’m nervous too.’ he says.

‘But you always manage to hide it behind a curtain of flirty comments and confidence.’ you say. ‘I wish I could do that.’

‘Y/N, just because I always know what to say, doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous.’ says Nikolai.

He reaches out to take your hand in his and walks you back to your bed, where you sit down. 

‘Listen, it’s completely normal to be nervous. It’s a big day. A lot of important people are going to be present. But I want you to be okay with this, so do you still want to do this?’ he says.

You look at him and frown. ‘Yes, of course!’ you say. ‘We’re not going to cancel this whole thing because I’m nervous. I just hope I won’t throw up because of the nerves.’

Nikolai chuckles. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ he says. ‘If it makes you feel better, we could practice.’ 

You frown again. ‘Practice what? I know how weddings work, Nikolai.’ you say. 

‘It wasn’t the entire wedding I was talking about.’ says Nikolai. 

You look at him, waiting for him to continue. He looks at your lips instead. 

‘Oh.’ you say softly. That was what he meant. 

Nikolai slowly inches closer to you, leaning in. His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes, silently asking permission. You give the barest of nods and Nikolai closes the remaining space between you, softly pressing his lips against yours. 

You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his lips on yours. All of the nerves seem to leave your body as you easy into him. When he pulls away, your faces are still close to each other.

‘Well if that’s what you call practicing, I wonder what the real thing is going to do to top that.’ you say.

Nikolai laughs at your words. ‘You’re getting better at your comebacks with every passing day, sweetheart.’ he says.

‘I learn from the best.’ you say, smiling at him.

‘Are you ready for this?’ says Nikolai.

‘I am now.’ you say with a hint of newfound confidence. 

Nikolai nods and gets up. ‘I’ll call Genya back.’ he says.

You get up as well and walk with him to the door. Before opening it, Nikolai takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. With a wink, he opens the door and steps out into the hallway.

Once Genya and the servants enter, she immediately drags you over and pushes you into a chair to do your hair.

‘You don’t seem nervous anymore.’ she says. 

‘I’m not.’ you say. ‘Nikola and I, uh, talked about it.’ you say, unable to stop your cheeks from turning red. 

Genya smiles knowingly at you. ‘I’m sure it was a good talk then.’ she says, emphasising the word “talk”. 

‘It was.’ you say, avoiding her eyes.

The smile never leaves Genya’s face as she finishes with doing your hair. The servants help you to get in the dress, and you finally look at yourself in the mirror. Genya had really outdone herself with the dress. It looks beautiful on you, as if it was meant to be.

You turn to look at her. ‘Thank you.’ you say. ‘Truly. It’s perfect.’ 

‘Don’t thank me. Nikolai is the one who picked the dress.’ she says. ‘Are you ready to go?’

You take a deep breath and nod. Genya links her arm through yours and you start walking toward the small chapel on the palace grounds. The guests had already arrived and were gathered inside. You can hear them talking and chatting excitedly even outside the chapel.

Genya hugs you tightly and disappears inside the chapel. After a few deep breaths to calm yourself again, you firmly plant your feet on the ground. No going back now. 

The doors to the chapel open and you watch as the guests all rise. A last deep breath, and you start walking. Were there really this many people on the list Zoya had put together?

You start to feel nervous again, but then you see Nikolai looking at you. He’s smiling brightly, and looks very handsome. You remember the feeling of his lips on yours, and find your confidence once more. 

You slowly walk down the aisle, smiling as well, and your eyes are fixed on Nikolai. When you finally make it to the front of the chapel, Nikolai smiles as you stop walking. 

‘Still nervous?’ he whispers softly, so only you can hear it. 

‘Not anymore, thanks to you.’ you whisper back. 

You take a quick look at the crowd. You only recognise the people that lived at the palace as well. Thankfully, you don’t see your father in the crowd. But your heart sinks as you don’t spot your Crows either. They didn’t come. 

You had invited them. Maybe they feared being captured if they risked coming to Os Alta? Whatever their reason was, you’re sure it was a good one. You’d send them a letter after the wedding, asking them if maybe an important job had come up. But still, it hurt a little they wouldn’t attend your wedding. 

The wedding itself seems to last minutes. You’re only focused on Nikolai. He holds your hand and you’re grateful he does. It helps keep you grounded. You had expected the wedding to be grand because after all, it is a royal one. But once you leave the chapel, hand in hand with Nikolai, you realise it turned out to be even better than you expected. 

The two of you are silent as you walk through the halls of the palace. You see the door to your room in the distance, but Nikolai walks right past it. When you raise your eyebrows in question at him, he points at the door to his room in the distance.

‘They’d expect us to share a room. It’d be a bit weird if we got married but sleep in separate rooms.’ he says. ‘Don’t worry, the bed is large enough to fit both of us without having to cuddle close. Not that I would mind if you did.’

You chuckle at his words as he opens the door to his room. You’re thankful to be away from all the guests. You appreciated that they all came to attend the wedding, but you got tired of listening to their congratulations over and over again. 

Once the door closes behind you, you immediately bend down to take off your heels. You watch as Nikolai shrugs off his suit jacket and runs a hand through his hair. 

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he says. 

‘It wasn’t bad at all.’ you say. 

Nikolai studies your face. ‘But there’s something on your mind.’ he says.

‘I just...’ your voice trails off as you try to find the best way to voice your thoughts. Nikolai takes your hand and pulls you down to sit on the bed with him. 

‘I thought they would come.’ you say softly. ‘I invited them, and I know I haven’t seen them in a while, but I thought they’d at least come to my wedding. I spent years with them.’ 

‘Maybe something else got in the way? Maybe something came up and they simply couldn’t make it?’ suggest Nikolai.

You shake your head. ‘Even if Kaz would plan a job, Jesper and Nina would burn down all of Ketterdam if a job prevented them from attending my wedding.’ you say. ‘I can’t think of a single reason why they wouldn’t come. I thought I meant more to them.’ 

‘What if you write them another letter? I’m sure if you just ask them, they’ll explain why they couldn’t be there.’ says Nikolai.

‘I was going to write them about it anyway.’ you say. ‘But first I want to change. As beautiful as this dress is, it’s incredibly heavy.’

‘I had a servant move some of your belongings here already.’ says Nikolai. ‘A part of the closet is now yours.’

‘Thank you.’ you say and you walk over to the closet, opening it. You pick one of your comfortable dresses and go to the bathroom to change. When you get back, you see Nikolai hasn’t changed yet. You didn't mind. He really looked good in a formal suit. 

You move to sit behind Nikolai’s desk to write a letter to Ketterdam. You try to sound polite, but a part of you wants to just write what you’re actually thinking. But the Crows mean the world to you, and you don’t want to hurt them or piss them off. 

Once you finish the letter, you seal it and hand it to a servant, telling them it’s urgent. 

When you get back to the room, you find Nikolai sitting at his desk, fidgeting with something in his hands. Curiously, you walk over to him. 

‘What are you doing?’ you say.

Nikolai looks up and holds out his hand to you. On his palm is a small boat, made out of a piece of rope. You carefully take it from his hand to examine it.

‘How did you learn how to make this?’ you as him.

He shrugs. ‘A lot of practicing.’ he says. 

You smile and hand the little boat back to him. ‘It’s nice.’ you say. ‘Could you teach me how to make one?’

Nikolai nods and pulls out a second chair for you. He spends the rest of the evening trying to teach you how to make a boat out of a piece of rope. While his fingers move smoothly and create the boats with ease, you struggle with it. After all, he had probably done it for many years, whereas you’re only trying it out for the first time. 

When you successfully finish your first boat, you decide to call it a night and go to sleep. Nikolai hadn’t been lying; the bed was big enough to fit the both of you comfortably without invading each other’s personal space. 

Your usual routines don’t change much. Except for the fact you know share a room and a bed. And you notice there are more lingering glances between the two of you. 

Like Nikolai had said, you’re expected to attend important meetings as well. You try to listen to it, but sometimes the meetings just aren’t interesting in your eyes. Luckily you always sit next to Nikolai, who is able to nudge your leg with his boot if he thinks you’re starting to zone out.

You have breakfast together every morning, expect for the mornings when Nikolai isn’t at the palace. You practice making boats out of rope, and you’re improving. Nikolai’s still turn out better than yours, but you’re getting there.

Every day, you ask if there’s mail for you. But somehow the Crows don’t send letters as frequently as they used to. And they had never given you a proper explanation as to why they didn’t attend your wedding. 

Most of the times when you’re lost in thought, you’re thinking about Ketterdam. You hadn’t been there in months, not since the ball. It’s as if the longer you stay at the palace, the more you miss Ketterdam. 

The city had always felt like home. And no matter how much you like spending time at the palace with Nikolai, you can’t help but to feel guilty for being away from Ketterdam for so long. You miss the city, and you miss your Crows.

Nikolai must have noticed something is bothering you, but you dodge his questions. You try to come up with excuses, but eventually, he pulls you aside and stands in front of the door, preventing you from slipping away.

‘Out with it.’ he says. ‘What is going on?’

You look at him, not sure what to say. 

‘Is it our marriage? Do you regret it? Is that why you’re avoiding talking with me?’ says Nikolai.

‘Of course not!’ you quickly say. ‘Nikolai, I do not regret our marriage. I happen like you a lot.’

‘Then what is it?’ says Nikolai. ‘You’re not yourself and I can tell something is bothering you. Let me help you.’

‘I don’t know where to start.’ you say softly, lowering your head and looking at your feet. It all seemed so childish now. 

‘I miss Ketterdam.’ you say softly. You feel tears burning behind your eyes. ‘I miss the harbour, and the tourists flooding the docks. I miss playing card games with Jesper, and going out with Nina. I miss talking with Inej and going over Kaz’ plans with him. I even miss reading to Wylan and trying to win a drinking contest from Matthias. I miss the Crow Club, and their laughter. I miss all of it.’ 

You see how Nikolai’s feet step closer to you and his hands cup your face, tilting it upward so you look at him. He brushes a tear away with his thumb.

‘It’s alright to miss Ketterdam.’ he says. ‘You left everything behind, I understand it if you miss it. It’s been your home for so long.’

‘But this is my home now.’ you say, your voice trembling slightly. ‘Here in Os Alta, with you. I shouldn’t long to go back to Ketterdam as much as I do.’

Nikolai smiles at you, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. ‘I told you a long time ago I won’t let anyone else control the choices you make in life, sweetheart. If you want to go to Ketterdam, I think you should go.’ he says.

You stare up at him, letting his words sink in. ‘But I’m your wife. You’d let me go just like that?’ you say.

‘You are indeed my wife. But I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. If you think you’re happier in Ketterdam than you are at the palace, then you should go. Go and be happy.’ he says. 

‘But I'm happy with you too.’ you say. ‘I just miss my home, that’s all.’

He smiles again. ‘Then you should go home. This is not goodbye forever, you know.’ he says. 

‘Not goodbye forever.’ you say, repeating his words. 

You stand on your toes and lean up to kiss him. Nikolai pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around his waist in response. When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

‘Go.’ he says softly. ‘Go to your Ketterdam, go to your Crows. I’m sure they’d love to see you again.’

You nod and pull yourself out of his embrace. Nikolai watches you as you quickly pack a bag with some essentials. You can’t bear to look at him again as you walk past him, out of the room.

You didn’t know Nikolai followed you from a distance, to see you off. As soon as you got on a horse and left the gates, he stands at the top of the stairs that lead to the entrance of the palace. 

He watches you as you become a smaller and smaller dot on the horizon. The triumvirate, who had seen the two of you leave, joins him on the steps, wondering what Nikolai is looking at.

‘Was that Y/N? says Zoya. ‘Where is she going?’

‘Back to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai.

Zoya turns to Nikolai. ‘You let her go?’ she says. ‘Saints, Nikolai, why did you let her go?’

Nikolai doesn’t say anything and continues to look at the horizon. Genya is studying Nikolai’s face as he looks at you in the distance. Her lips part in surprise, but her eyes are sad.

‘Because he loves her.’ says Genya.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[chibsytelford]

Requested by anon - Hear me out. What about a fic where the reader is related to one of the sons (maybe chibs or tig?) And they broke up with her long-term boyfriend and had to move into a clubhouse dorm but since hapoy recently patched over , they spend alot of time together and things happen between them(if you get what i mean😏) and eventually she sleeps in his dorm almost evey night but they keep is secret from the others because they dont know how to approach the situation then one day one of the sons burst into his dorm and are like "hap something happend we need you to- OH COME ON REALLY?". Then they have to explain to the sons shes related to how long its been going on? You can choose how it ends.

A/N - I tweaked the story a little bit, I felt like I would have to write 10k words just to include everything. I hope you still like it nonetheless!

If you want added / removed from my taglist let me know 😊

The thought of having to explain again that you and your ex had broken up had your stomach churning. This was the only one of your boyfriends that Chibs had liked, and you thought it'd be the relationship that you'd have for the rest of your life. Oh how naive you were. 3 years you wasted, thinking that he loved you, that he wanted you, but it turned out that he was doing a pretty good job of faking it all.

As you pulled up to Teller Morrow you gave yourself a quick once over in the rear view mirror. You ran out of tears 4 weeks ago, but you hadn't slept much since the break up 2 months ago, and your eyes were proving that. Your boss was also your best friend, so when you told her you needed time off, she told you to take as long as you needed, and she even suggested you come to Charming for some 'healing' is what she called it. She told you that visiting Chibs - who you called 'Uncle Chibsy' ever since he rescued you and your car 6 or so years ago - would be good for you, and that night you had headed off to Charming and here you were.

Grabbing your suitcase, you locked your car and headed for the doors of the clubhouse. Before you could even reach them you were stopped by a Scottish accent you were oh so familiar with. "Y/N?" Chibs shouted from across the yard. "Is that you?" You turned around and he smiled, holding his arms out for you. You dropped the suitcase -not caring if anything in it broke- and sprinted towards him, jumping into his arms and nearly making him fall backwards.

"Surprise!" You smiled back kissing his cheek as he spun you around. "I've missed you Uncle" you admitted as he finally put you down again, lazily draping an arm around your shoulder.

"What's brought ye here?" He asked, picking your case up for you and holding the door open, as he always did. Chibs led you to a table, grabbed you a beer and plopped himself down beside you.

You had no intention of hiding the breakup from him, you just didn't want to keep talking about it. You had told most people back home over the course of the last few weeks and having to repeat it just made you tired. But you knew better than to keep anything from Chibs. "Dale and I broke up" you shrugged, picking at the label on the bottle. "It is what it is" 

Chibs looked at you, raising his eyebrow and giving you the look. The look that had your walls crumbling, leaving your insecurities on show for him. He was always good at that, knowing when you were hiding something, knowing when you wanted to say something but couldn't. "He told me he didn't love me, that he never did, and never will" you sighed wiping some stray tears away. "3 years" you laughed bitterly, "I'm an idiot". 

"Hey love, you're not an idiot" Chibs said, pulling you so you were now flush against his side. He placed his arm on your shoulder, using his thumb to draw circles on it - a gesture he knew calmed you down. "He's the idiot, and he will be a headless idiot when we are done with him" he said causing you to laugh out loud. The sound made Chibs smile. 

Just then some of the other men came bouncing through the door. You recognized them all from when you had visited Chibs over the years. Juice came through first, followed by Tig and Jax, and then your eyes landed on Happy's. "Hey guys" you said greeting them with a small smile and wave. The men nodded at you and smiled back, but they were too busy grabbing beers and lighting cigarettes to come and speak to you, except Happy who was hovering halfway between you and Chibs and the bar. You pointed to the empty seat at the other side of the table and Happy silently padded over, accepting your invitation. You pushed your beer over to him, inviting him to take a drink, which he did so, before wiping the rim and giving it back to you with a small smile.

"How you been?" Happy asked, genuinely curious. "How's Dale?" The name fell from his lips like venom from a snake. 

"She was just telling me about that asshole" Chibs piped up. "The twat broke up with her" you could have sworn you saw a slight smile grace Happy's face, but you couldn't be sure. "I was just telling Y/N about how we were going to find him and cho-" 

"Chop his balls off?" Happy finished, glancing at you briefly before looking at the Scotsman. 

"I was gonna say head, but balls work too brother" Chibs answered giving Happy a high five, making you laugh and shake your head at the action. 

Dale was soon forgotten as Chibs, Happy and you spent the night laughing, drinking and telling each other stories, which ended up being more embarrassing for you than the other two. 

"I'm going to bed now I think guys" You announced. You had no idea what time it was but a quick glance at your phone told you it was 230am. Time goes fast when you're having fun, and that saying was true for tonight. It was the most fun you had in ages. Chibs stood up to let you out and you bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek, doing the same to Happy too. He already had his cheek waiting for you, you noticed. 

Grabbing your case you headed for Chibs' dorm. The room you always crashed in when you came to visit. Chibs didn't mind sleeping on one of the benches in the clubhouse, or sometimes he even crashed in Tig or Juice's room. You quickly changed the sheets, brushed your teeth and then put one of Chibs t-shirts on. You slipped under the covers and sleep welcomed you quickly, which was the first time in 2 months that had happened.

You had now been in Charming for 2 weeks, and every day was a different day. You started helping out Gemma a bit in the office and you helped to tend the bar. It was the least you could do since they were letting you stay there. You and Happy had developed a strong bond over the last few weeks. After your first night, every night after that was spent with Happy. You guys played pool, drank beer, listened to music and one night Happy even had a go on the karaoke after you begging him constantly. You found yourself intrigued by the man nicknamed The Tacoma Killer by his brothers. 

You hadn't thought or spoken about Dale since the first night you got here. Your thoughts were slowly being taken over by Happy, and you were surprised by how quickly feelings had developed for him. You didn't expect to have feelings for someone so quickly after your last relationship, but you welcomed the feeling. And you knew that Happy felt something for you too. You noticed how he always went out of his way to bump into you, he always asked how you were, he made sure you had everything you needed and he also made you a cup of tea every morning and left it outside Chibs' door. In the 3 years you were with Dale, not once did he make you a cup of tea. 

"Need anything love?" Chibs asked you as you dried the glasses and placed them on the rack behind the bar. You looked up and noticed he had a crow eater on his arm, and you knew his intentions. 

You shook your head. "No, I'm fine thanks" you smiled. "Take your room tonight, give me 2 minutes and I'll change the sheets". Before Chibs could protest you had already left and changed the sheets, returning in a few minutes with your bag. 

"Where will you sleep?" He asked. 

"She'll sleep in my room" Happy said, suddenly appearing behind you, making you jump. "I'll sleep on the floor" he added before Chibs could shut the idea down.

Chibs looked at you and you nodded shyly, agreeing to the proposition. "Night love" he said leading his companion for the night to his dorm.

"Thanks Hap" you turned around and noticed how close Happy was to you. "You didn't have to do that" you smiled.

"Well I did" he said matter of factly. "You ready for bed now?" You nodded, placing the tea towel on the bar and wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans. 

"Lead the way" you murmured, getting slightly nervous. You followed Happy and he showed you where everything was. He pulled out a t-shirt and handed it to you, pointing to his bathroom so you could get changed. The t-shirt covered your thighs and ended at your shins, so you decided not to wear any trousers underneath. As you excited the bathroom, Happy was just finishing up making the bed. He pointed for you, telling you to get in and you did what you were told. 

He was mesmerising. A man who hardly said anything, yet the way he moved had you in awe. He took his kutte off and placed it over the end of the bed, leaving him in his vest and jeans. He took the jeans off too, not caring that you were clearly staring at him. 

Happy grabbed a sleeping bag out of the wardrobe and went to make his bed on the floor but you stopped him. 

"This is silly" you admitted "the bed is big enough for both of us, don't you think?" You had no idea where the sudden confidence came from, and you even caught Happy off guard with it too.

He blinked a few times, looking at you like you had suddenly grown three heads. "Yeah?" was all he could muster, and you nodded encouragingly, patting the space beside you for good measure. 

Happy's movements were slow. He maintained eye contact with you, looking for a trace if regret or hesitation but you didn't give him any. Instead, you curled up under the covers and waited for his warmth. A few seconds later he joined you in bed, switching the lamp off and you were both engulfed in darkness. Neither of you said anything, scared of breaking the silence.

"Goodnight Y/N" Happy whispered eventually. 

"Goodnight Hap" you replied contentedly. 

You were woken by some banging on the door that didn't seem to stop, even after you put a pillow over your head. 

"Happy? Happy? HAAAAAAAPY!" you recognized the voice as Chibs and he sounded like he was in a hurry or needed something urgently. 

You turned around and saw Happy was dead to the world. He looked peaceful but you knew if you didn't wake him up that Chibs was about to burst the door down. You poked him once on the chest but he didn't move. You poked him on the chest again, a bit harder this time but again it was no use. You then turned your poking into nudging and soon you had managed to wake him up. "If you don't let Chibs in he is about to break your door down" you laughed pointing to the door.

Happy huffed and clambered out of the bed. He unlocked the door and yanked it open, coming face to face with Chibs. 

"Finally!" He threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. "What took ye so long?" 

Happy shrugged. "Y/N had to wake me up".

"Ye don't look like a man who slept on a hard floor all night" Chibs pointed out. 

"That's because he didn't" you said. Chibs poked his head around the corner and raised his eyebrows. "What?" You innocently shrugged "the bed is big enough for 2 of us". 

Chibs held his hands up, not saying anything else. "We can continue this discussion later" he said aiming that comment at you. "Jax needs us" he said to Happy. 

Happy nodded and shut the door, grabbing some clothes from his drawers and putting them on quickly. "Sorry" he mumbled "duty calls".

"Don't worry about it. I'll be waiting for you to get back" this time Happy kissed your cheek and you welcomed the feeling of his lips against your skin. 

"I'll look forward to it" he smiled, and walked out, but not before giving you one last smile. 

@rebelwrites @everyhowlmarksthedead @mayans-sauce @yourwonkywriter @pancakeisreading @mrsmarvelous1995 @encounterthepast @starrynite7114 @trulysuccubus @shelliechen @frightfulnite @scuzmunkie @blessedboo @jadesamhart @fangirlingaesthetics @i-love-scott-mccall @deeandbobbymcgee @gemini0410 @thisishowdynastiesareborn @meteora-fc @withmyteeth @est1887 @justjuiceyboy @destynelseclipsa @rocketqueen @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @queenbeered @lauraashley93 @talicat713 @jasminee97 @multiyfandomgirl40 @sadeyesgf @anangelwhodidntfall

[sunjaesol]

written kind of caffeinated, kind of stoned, kind of sleep-deprived juke | 2043 words | pure fluff

He knew that, rationally, he shouldn’t do it. The word “boundary!” blared in his head and the whole thing was really inconsequential and it was so stupid, but Luke simply couldn’t help himself. Was it because of his crush on her? Most definitely. Should that awareness stop him from doing dumb shit like this? Yes, except here he was.

While Julie was at school, she accidentally let the lights in her room on. And so, Luke poofed from the studio into her room to turn them off. Saving power, right? Doing the right thing, being a good person, definitely not going into her room because it was her room.

There was something relaxing about the space though. A sense of serenity falling on his shoulders every time he stepped inside and let his eyes wander and settle on new nooks and corners he hadn’t discovered yet. F+J scratched in the wood of her wardrobe, a box of pretty seashells, four tubes of the exact same mascara in her vanity. It felt familiar and human and simple and so, so Julie.

He flicked the lights off, the only light source being the sun pouring in and casting the room in a gentle glow. Her pink walls were gentler now, the colour of peaches and reminding him of summer nights with his boys on the beach. (It also reminded him of Julie’s peach deodorant that always hung around her and involuntarily made him zero in on her. Alex would argue he was always looking at her, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the thought of peaches only held fond memories - new memories that now included her too.)

Alright. The lights were off. He did his good deed. He should go back to the boys… 

His feet moved on their own accord and plopped down on her bed, sinking into the mattress. His hands caressed the soft comforter, a smile tugging on his lips that thank the fucking music gods, he could still touch and feel things. He would’ve gone insane in an instant if they weren’t able to be in contact with anything or anyone. It was unfathomable to Luke - not hugging Reggie or massaging Alex’s shoulders or grabbing Julie’s hand. To him, music was just another way to share that sensation of contact with people. Didn’t matter if it was loud and rough or quiet and intimate, a ballad or a rock anthem. Connection: that was all he ever needed. 

His fingers slid further and suddenly he was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Oh, man. Now he really couldn’t leave. Her bed was so comfortable! Definitely better than the mattress he had at his folks or, even worse, the couch. That thing broke his back the last months. Ha, Luke noted bitterly, maybe it was better that he hit the bucket then. Rather dead and setting the stage on fire than living with a hernia, right? 

Though Luke still slept (habit? he guessed?), he has never felt sleepy. The boys just hung around or hit the streets and then eventually felt that tug of human normalcy. “Maybe we should go to sleep, guys. Big day ahead.” He didn’t dream. It was just black. It wasn’t unwelcome; just… empty. 

But here, laying on Julie’s bed and letting his eyes blur and rest, Luke felt sleepy. Sufficiently exhausted. He didn’t know where that sudden slam of the hammer came from, but he kind of liked it. It made him feel like he was the one that went to school today, or had a tiring shift at some fast food shack, or played a gig. He stretched himself like a star, grinned as all the joints in his back popped, and then rolled on his side. Fucking heaven. 

‘What’re you doing here?’

The faraway voice lulled the groggy Luke awake. He felt like he was hit by a truck. Where was he? 

‘Hmph?’

She chuckled, his mind speeding up at just the sound and realising that shit, he did fall asleep on her bed and she caught him. His eyes cracked open, coming face to face with an amused Julie hovering on the side of the bed. His brain supplied him with the thought that she looked pretty, reminding him once again that yup, he still liked her. A sheepish smile crawled on his lips. 

‘Hey, Jules.’

She rolled her eyes and then roughly pushed him to the other side of the bed. He squeaked, grabbing onto the comforter as to not fall off and gawked at her. 

‘Dude!’

‘This is my side of the bed,’ Julie said, pointing at the indent he made. ‘If you’re going to sleep here, it’s on the other side.’

He let out a relieved breath. ‘You’re not mad?’

‘Depends.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why were you in my room?’

Waving his hands towards the ceiling, he muttered. ‘Your lights were still on.’

His reply visibly mellowed her, so much that it kind of surprised him. Her smile melted into those she gave him whenever he found a gnarly lyric or impressed her with a riff or met her halfway for the mic onstage. During those moments, it was hard to deny there wasn’t more, that both knew there was more, but couldn’t really do anything about it. It was really depressing. “Yeah, Jules, I’m fucking crazy about you. Wanna make out and hope I don’t disappear the next day?” Even his impulsive streak wasn’t that extreme. 

He hadn’t expected her to smile like that right now. Not when he laid on her bed and her hair was begging for his fingers to slip through and the spot he slept on was still warm. He almost poofed away. Were they going to touch on the “more”? Was this it? 

‘Thanks,’ she eventually whispered, eyes dropping and meeting his again with a shyer smile and he knew he was sporting the exact same. A beat passed between them, eyes locked and unwavering. His fingers twitched. 

‘Uh…’ Mustering back some rationality, he said: ‘Do you want me to leave, or?’

Her hands stretched out. ‘No!’ Face twisting to something he could only describe as “cringe”, she went on a little calmer. ‘You can- it’s fine. I’m just going to do some homework anyway.’

He watched as she and her backpack found a place on the bed, both very close and very far away all at once. It shouldn’t be intimate, but it was. He was seventeen and she was sixteen and he was pretty sure his crush wasn’t completely one-sided and she just allowed him to stay. There wasn’t music or a guitar or a songbook to hide behind and it sort of terrified him. But in a good way? Like when he went cliff diving and stood at the edge, stomach whooping at the thought of jumping, or when he was at the top of a rollercoaster and the cart slowly began to tilt. It was that. The feeling of quiet exhilaration. 

All of that just cause Julie sat next to him bend over a history worksheet. Get a fucking grip, dude. 

He didn’t know how long she worked on her homework or how long he stared at the ceiling, hands weaved beneath his head, but it mustn’t been long. The weight shifted and suddenly Julie’s head fell on her pillow with a sigh. 

‘No, no, no, Julie,’ he teased, ‘gotta keep those grades up, right?’

She rolled on her side to stick her tongue out. ‘Very funny. You maybe don’t remember it anymore, but school’s exhausting.’

Luke also shifted on his side, chuckling. ‘Jules, it haunts me. That’s why I dropped out.’

‘Cute pun.’

‘Thanks.’ And then, because Luke was never one to overthink: ‘I like this.’

That smile of her came back, the one he always wanted to see. Her eyes crinkled and her lips slightly parted and so incredibly beautiful. He heard music when he looked at her. Death became sweeter if it meant he’d get to stare at the girl of his dreams. It was a morbid thought, but then again, he didn’t deem himself dead whenever he was around her. Luke probably felt so alive around her that it surprised him later on that he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t a ghost. Not to her. She didn’t need to tell him for him to know that. 

Julie tentatively held her hand out in the space between, palm up and smudged with ink. When he placed his on top, fingers barely intertwining but the sensation like a shot of oxygen, she murmured: ‘Me too.’

They didn’t plan for it to become routine, but it also felt kind of inevitable. Nearly every day, Luke would go to Julie’s room when he knew her day at school was nearing its end and waited on her. She’d come in and briefly recapitulate the day (usually some story regarding an annoying teacher and Flynn with a killer comeback), sliding down on her side of the bed and hold his hands. Some days, her fingertips quietly wandered the lines on his palms, some days his did. It was always quiet. Though the only ones in her room, they whispered. This wasn’t a secret (the boys were keenly aware where Luke spent his afternoons), but it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume when the other was so close.  

As the days progressed, they shifted closer. Not intentional, but once again inevitable. Everything about them felt like that nowadays. The longer he was around, the more he realised that this - the bond he shared with Julie - was always meant to happen. Whenever his thoughts meandered to those cosmically impossible ideas of serendipity and couldn’t wrap his head around it, Julie was always there with her smile to bring him back to earth. Or, well, to bed.

And then one day, Julie came home from school, saw him, and without saying anything, crawled right into his chest. His heartbeat didn’t pick up like he expected. It eased and relaxed, sinking deeper into the matress as his eyes fell shut from pure fucking bliss and hugged her closer. Her peach deodorant overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible, burrowing his face in her neck and her smile stretching against his sweater. She was warm and perfectly fit into the curve of his body and he was in love. The acceptance should’ve ached, but it didn’t. How could he think about tomorrow when Julie Molina was wrapped in his arms?

Time froze those afternoons. As long as she kept her head on his chest, as long as they didn’t leave the bed, their island, then nothing could hurt them. 

One afternoon, when the sun was reflecting pink and purple splotches on the walls and he was contently dissecting each curl, his heart so full it could explode, he said it. ‘I wanna do this forever.’

He felt her chuckle. ‘Inspecting my hair like a monkey, or…?’

Luke squeezed her closer. ‘C’mon, Jules.’

Her giggles quieted, chin sliding up his chest to look at him. If she found devotion shimmering behind the green, she was correct. He hoped that the warm flickering in her brown ones was the same. 

Her voice was small. ‘You do?’

He nodded, every movement too big or too loud, afraid it would ruin the perfect quietude surrounding them. The room melted away, her face all that was left. Before he let the tug in his chest (the same thread that looped them in this embrace) guide him closer, she got there first. Julie surged upwards, barely needing to close any distance to softly find his lips. He cradled her cheek, warmth brimming from every pore on his skin, love pouring from his lips onto hers. It was short and sweet, but their smiles as they did were anything but. It felt like the first flower blooming in spring. Giddy, he kissed her again. He loved her. (It was inevitable.) 

Julie hummed an unknown melody in his ear, lilting and just as giddy, her fingers circling right above his heart. It stammered to blend with hers. Luke met her gaze, noses brushing and smiles private and eyes adoring. She loved him. (It was inevitable.)

‘Then let’s do it forever.’

[sandwichrin]

Hello! May I request a Haruto angst where Y/n is a YG trainee and YG forced her to break up with Haruto and then they cross paths years later?

Hi! Sorry for the late response ;-; but here you go! (Also, I wasn’t sure if you wanted Haruto to be a YGA as well in this situation but since you said because y/n is a YG trainee and had to break up with him, I assumed that it’s because they wouldn’t let y/n date a debuted YGA)  Hope you like it <3

(Requested, Haruto x y/n, Angst)

“You can’t be serious y/n,” Haruto said, clearly not satisfied with what you said to him.

“I’m not kidding Ruto...” you took a deep breath, your eyes obviously avoiding to look at him.

The both of you were at a secluded rooftop cafe where you both have always been to for your ‘dates’ since it was the best hideout for the both of you to meet up and spend time together. 

You see, you and Haruto have been dating each other since for a couple of years now. When you first became a trainee, your relationship was definitely rocky after that but the both of you were strong enough to hold onto it because clearly, you both are deeply in love with each other. 

Your date nights become less frequent, you hardly talk on the phone or chat with each other, but that was never the case. You both were fine with it all. As long as you both knew you had each other. 

“What...” Haruto lets out a scoff, “This is absurd! I know that we’ve spent less time with each other but I also know that how we feel about each other isn’t the cause of this.”

You took a sip off your warm tea. Placing the cup down, you mustered your courage to look at your boyfriend in the eyes. 

“Fine then. It wasn’t the cause. It’s not. You know...how much I love you, right?”

Haruto leaned in closer to you and spoke softly this time, “Then what is it? You know you can tell me, right?”

Hearing him speak to you that way, made you realise how saddening this was. You were putting up a tough show in front of him and yet right now, you just want to hug him and cry your eyes out. Because this isn’t what you wanted it to be for the both of you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before saying, “They found out, Ruto. They found out about us. You know I can’t date you. Especially me being a new trainee there and you being one of their famously renowned artist. It...just doesn’t work that way,” 

Haruto moved away from you, leaning back into his chair this time. He lets out a frustrated sigh. 

You observed him. The pained look on his face, how much he’s dissatisfied at how he doesn’t have much say in this matter.

Haruto lets out another sigh, this time it was louder. “I told you didn’t I? I told you this many times, but you just had to do this, right? You just couldn’t wait, could you?!”

You scoffed. “What?! What exactly did you tell me, huh? How was I to know it would be like this?” you cried back at him.

You weren’t sure but you thought you could see Haruto’s eyes pooling with tears by now. He was hurt. He was truly hurt by this.

“I told you not to audition at my agency! I have been supporting your dreams of wanting to become an idol but I told you to stay away from YGE! You know they don’t allow their artists to date!”

You gasped out loud at what he said, “How could you say that?! We were already dating even before I got in as a trainee! You were literally dating someone even when you were already debuted!”

“And we were fine! We were fine....” this time, tears were already falling down Haruto’s cheeks.

Your grip on your chair tightened. You couldn’t take it.

When YGE told you to breakup with your boyfriend, Haruto, because they wouldn’t allow their trainees to date, you thought Haruto would simply understand why you had to do it. You thought it would be easy. But why does this hurt so bad?

“Y/n....y/n please, please don’t leave me, please. I love you. We can do this, I’ll talk to the management about us, I can fix this,” Haruto pleads, his tears still streaming down his beautiful face.

You shook your head. You knew that was impossible. There was no way their management would even agree of you both being together. They found out about you and Haruto and immediately you were told to break off your relationship with him. What makes him think that anything he said would change their minds??

But you wanted to achieve your dreams as well. And truthfully, being a YG trainee was already a strong step towards achieving your dreams. Why doesn’t Haruto understand that?

You got up from your seat and walked over to him who was sitting opposite you. You wrapped your arms around his sitting frame, giving him a back hug to comfort him.

“Please y/n...” Haruto said softly. His sadness was still heard from his voice. 

You closed your eyes and apologised to him. “I’m sorry, Ruto...I love you, but this...this has to be the end of us.”

.2 years later.

“There she is! Ahh our shining star!” the host of the show said as he saw you entering the show’s set.

You smiled at him and bowed at the people around you, mostly towards the other guests of the show and the cameramen along with the PD crew there.

“Hello everyone! It’s me, the shining, charming y/n!” you greeted everyone there.

“Aigoo, you’re one bright kid, y/n! No wonder your fans love you so much!” the much older host said.

You simply smiled and nodded at what he said. This was your first time being on a renowned show since you debuted months ago and truthfully, since you’ve always been doing contents and shows that were smaller before, today you could feel your nerves racking.

“Oh wait, before we start with our show, we have another guest! Another YG artist too, y/n! You must’ve known him,” the host chuckled.

You smiled and looked at the host questioningly. Who was invited here aside from you? Blackpink? Ikon? Winner?

Your eyes widened when you saw him. How could you forget...about Treasure.

Haruto entered the set, smiling his handsome smile, waving at the cameras and bowing in respect towards all the elders there.

You felt your heart beat fast. How did the both of you end up as guests in the same show??

Haruto caught a glimpse of your eyes and he smiled timidly at you. You nodded briefly at him, trying to maintain composure for the sake of the show. 

All the time throughout being a trainee, and even when you debuted, you had never interacted with him. Not once ever since the two of you broke up. You avoided him in the hallways, the gatherings, and it was all perfect.

But today? You weren’t so sure as to how to avoid him now. 

The show began and all of you, including the rest of the guests starring in the show were seated side by side with one another.

And coincidentally, your seat was right beside Haruto’s. 

Lucky for you, you were deeply concentrating on the show so you weren’t paying much attention on him.

Some time passed by and the host called for a commercial break, “Okay we’ll be right back after the break!”

You waved at the camera, waiting for the director to officially give you all the break.

“And, CUT! Perfect! Good job everyone! 10 minutes break for everyone!”

You sighed in relief. You were so into the show that you had been very active in talking and responding to everyone in the room. Well, to everyone except for Haruto of course.

Your makeup artist approached you and you could also see Haruto’s attending to him as well. 

“y/n, you’re sweating a lot today. be careful okay? We don’t want to accidentally smear your mascara,” your makeup artist advised you. 

You nodded at her and let her dab the sweat off your skin.

It only took you 2-3 minutes to have you look all fresh again, thanks to your skillful makeup artist, and when she left, you realised that you were alone with Haruto, still sitting in your respective seats.

You looked down at your thighs, trying to act like you weren’t bothered with him being there beside you.

“Nervous?” you heard him say.

Your head turned to look at him.

His face was fully facing you right now. “You were really great out there, y/n,”

Your skin shivered. It’s been so long since you heard him call your name. 

“I...uh, thanks,” you muttered quickly at him.

The both of you kept quiet right after that. No one else said anything until the show started again.

                                                            *

The show ended and everyone was thanking each other and talking further about how they enjoyed the show. You were doing the same too and when you were done, you headed towards your dressing room to go check on your phone, since you were pretty sure your group members were probably asking you about how your filming went. 

You entered the empty room and saw your phone on the dressing table, laying with it’s screen face down.

You didn’t remember leaving it that way but whatever, you hurriedly took it and tried to key in your passcode.

But then you stopped. 

You realised that the lockscreen on the phone wasn’t yours.

It was obvious it wasn’t yours because....the lockscreen was a picture of you. 

You immediately placed the phone back down on the dresser. You backed away from the dresser and you felt your heart beating fast.

Whose phone was that? And why does that person has a picture of me as their lockscreen?? And what’s worst, it was a picture from when you were much younger, from when you first became a trainee at YG too!

“Y/n!” you heard your manager call out your name, which made you turn around.

“Yes, oppa?” you asked your manager, your voice a little shaky.

“Oh? What’s with you? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” your manager asked, worried about you.

You forced a laugh at him, “What? No way! I’m okay oppa. I just...uh, yeah, feeling tired that’s all,” you assured him.

“Okay...our van will be here soon, so make sure to gather all your stuff before we leave, okay?”

“Alright! Oh wait, oppa, have you seen my phone?”

“Your phone?”

“Yeah,”

“Oh, you gave it to me to hold while you were recording remember? Here it is,” he said as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and gave it to you.

“Oh, thanks,” you said laughing at how silly you were for forgetting.

“I’ll call you up when the van arrives yea? I need to go talk to the PD staff for a bit,” your manager said before he left.

You nodded at him briefly and got started at gathering your stuff to bring home. 

And just then, you heard footsteps approaching inside the room as well.

You turned to see who it was and surely enough, it was Haruto. 

Both of your eyes met and yet still, no one said anything.

Haruto walked towards the dresser and grabbed the phone that was on it.

He was about to leave but then he stopped to look at you again. He looked like he wanted to say something but then he shook his head and decided to just leave the room.

He probably doesn’t know it but your eyes were fixed on him. It had been two years but that feeling you had for him, it was rushing back to you. 

You wanted to run to him, maybe talk to him more. It would be a horrible lie to say that you didn’t miss him at all. You felt it, the pain in your chest. 

The both of you were in the same show, the same room, and yet you both couldn’t say anything to each other. Why? 

And why does he have your picture saved as his lockscreen? Even after these years?

“Y/n, the van is here. Let’s head home,” your manager said at the door.

“Okay!” you said, trying to sound cheerful and unaffected by what you’re feeling at the moment.

You hurried out of the dressing room and at the corner of your eye, just outside the dressing room, you saw Haruto standing, leaning against the wall. 

He was staring at the bracelet he was wearing. You could see his finger tracing the small, white charm on it.

“Y/n, the van is this way,” your manager called out to you, as he noticed you stopping in your tracks.

“Oh, right! I’m on my way!” you called out to him back.

You decided to take a last peek at Haruto and that’s when both your eyes met again. 

You saw the look in his eyes. 

The pained, sorrow look he had like the last time you both met at the rooftop cafe. The same pained look he had when you told him that you wanted to end your relationship with him back then.

You felt your eyes sting from the tears you were holding back. The memories came flowing back to you by now. 

Feeling overwhelmed, you took a deep breath and ran outside towards your van outside.

As you entered the van, you leaned back against your seat and closed your eyes. You felt your chest beating in pain, your head heavy, and your eyes finally letting the tears overflow. Although your eyes were closed, you could feel your tears streaming down your face and chin. 

It hurts. Why does it hurt this much? Was this how he felt when you broke off things? Why does it hurt this bad when it’s been over for years??

You opened your eyes and hurriedly searched for your purse in your handbag. 

Pulling out the purse from the bag, you unzipped the coin compartment and there it was, still beautifully intact, 

The similar white charmed, silver bracelet Haruto had gifted you years back. 

[kopikokun]

Beach Day Blues༄ l.dh

↳ Out on a day trip to the beach with your boyfriend and his friends, you’re anticipating a fun time filled with sunny memories and sand filled swimsuits. What you’re not expecting is the cold shoulder from your usually happy-go-lucky boyfriend, but you’re going to get to the root of this issue, even if it’ll kill you.

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader ft. yuta, mark & jaehyun

content: fluff, beach day, reverse comfort fic, jealousy fic, very mildly suggestive ending

word count: 2053 words

Request 36: Haechan + “I need a hug.” (42) + “You’re cute when you’re angry.” (47) + “You own my heart.” (59) + Jealousy

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Perhaps you’re being delusional. Perhaps you’re just dehydrated or, maybe, you rationalise, the scalding rays of the evening Sun have burned not only your skin but your brain cells too (if there were any to begin with). Maybe all of this is just in your head and you’re overthinking it.

    “Hey,” someone hisses, “is it just me or is Donghyuck giving you the cold shoulder?”

    At the question, or rather observation, your head swivels an almost sharp 90 degrees to stare Yuta straight in the eyes. “So, it wasn’t just me thinking that!”

    Yuta chuckles. “Yeah, he definitely seems off…” He peers at Donghyuck discreetly from beneath his sunglasses before turning back towards you. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

    “A fight? No way!” You pause, suddenly doubting yourself. “At least, I don’t think so…”

    Though you’re confident in your verdict of innocence regarding a fight, Yuta’s question prompts you to briefly run through the events of the day. To preface things, you, your boyfriend, Donghyuck, and a few of your friends—namely, Yuta, Jaehyun and Mark—had decided around half a month ago to clear up one day in advance for a ‘beach day’ this week. The idea had sprung after someone had brought up how nice and sunny the weather had been lately, and everyone just unanimously came to the conclusion that sunny weather equals beach day.

     You had begun packing for this trip a few days ahead to the surprise of everyone including yourself, which is a testament to your overwhelming excitement, because you rarely--if ever--pack that early for just a single day trip. But who can blame you? This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck. No, you should rephrase that. This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck as your boyfriend. You’ve been on plenty of trips before when you two were just ‘friends’, but now--and maybe this is the romanticist in you which you’ve successfully kept stored away up until recently speaking--it just feels different. You’re sure someone out there can relate, because you’ve never been one to obsess over something as feeble as a label, yet this trip has had your stomach in knots for ages.

  The packing process had gone smoothly--neither you nor Donghyuck had forgotten anything--and so had the car ride over. As far as you can recall, your day at the beach so far has gone without a hitch too. You’d had a little picnic, dipped in the oddly warm sea, played some beach volleyball (badly) and gotten some icecream afterward. No fights, no issues, no nothing.

   Maybe, you think, he found out I was involved in that little switch up with the sea water. You don’t entertain the idea for too long though immediately casting it away, because you know Donghyuck would never be the type to get so upset over a prank.

    So, why the attitude?

    You gaze at Donghyuck’s back, hoping that this mystery might just unravel itself if you stare long enough.

    “Huh…” Yuta’s voice tears you from your zealous staring competition with Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Then I wonder what’s up…”

    You sigh. You know you should confront him and have a mature conversation about what’s bothering him, but that’s so much easier said than done. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing you for ridiculing all those scenes in cheesy teen flicks where the couple would experience a major fall-out because of poor communication. During said scenes, you’d be pulling your hair out, internally screaming at the couple to just freaking talk already, yet now that you’ve been presented this obstacle for you to overcome yourself, you’re erring on the side of caution.

    Come on, you reason, I’ve been friends with Donghyuck for over half-a-decade and we’ve gotten into our fair share of arguments during those five years. What’s so different about now?

    Yeah, you’re right. You find yourself agreeing with your own thoughts, physically nodding along like you’re speaking to someone. Yuta raises a concerned eyebrow at you. Nothing’s different compared to then. You’re doing it again. He’s just my boyfriend, and that’s just a label. Stop. Obsessing. Over. Labels.

    Admittedly, it’s a bit embarrassing having to psyche yourself up to do this, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that little pep-talk, no matter how laughable it sounded, has gotten you to stand and saunter to Donghyuck with utmost confidence. In hindsight, you should’ve said something to Yuta beforehand instead of just springing from your seat and marching away. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind though, as it was obviously preoccupied with something arguably much more important than giving him the luxury of context.

    You decide not to be too transparent about your feelings at first as you take a seat beside Donghyuck on the sand, leaning your head on his shoulder, hoping that all of this was really just your imagination getting the best of you. You silently plead that he’ll perhaps treat you like he normally would, giving you a little peck on the cheek or at least wrapping his arm around your waist. Unfortunately, your hopes are smothered just as quickly as they arise because Donghyuck doesn’t even bat an eye at you, continuing to chat with Jaehyun and flat-out ignoring your presence. Still optimistic for a reaction, you leave a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, just to let him know that “Hey, I’m here!”, but to no avail. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t even flinch. All he does is drone on to Jaehyun about something you couldn’t care less about.

    You huff. Audibly. A last ditch effort in vying for Donghyuck’s attention. It goes just as well as your previous attempts. You cross your arms, glaring at the side of Donghyuck’s stubborn little head, hoping to bore a deep hole through his brain. Maybe then he’ll finally take notice of you. Sensing the undeniable tensity in the air, Jaehyun clears his throat awkwardly, offering Donghyuck some lame excuse about needing to take a piss, before shuffling away. Well, at least someone knows how to take a hint.

    With Jaehyun’s departure, you’re left alone with Donghyuck. Usually, he’d be leaping to drown you in affection the second you two had privacy--or even if you two didn’t, to be frank--but all he does now is fiddle with the strings of his swimming shorts absentmindedly.

    “What’s wrong, Hyuck?” you finally ask, desperate to break this frustratingly suffocating silence. “Is something wrong?”

    Finally, after what seems like centuries, Donghyuck acknowledges your existence, though the look he gives you is not a pleasant one. In fact, it’s one of agitation. His tongue prods at his inner cheek before he says, tone bitter, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

    Evidently taken aback, you crease your eyebrows at him. “I… Did I do something wrong, babe?”

    “Oh, come on,” he scoffs, scornful amusement overtaking his normally amiable features. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You can just come out and say it.”

    “Say what, Hyuck?”

    “How much more you’re into Mark than into me,” Donghyuck says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

    You can’t help but laugh, simply bewildered as to how on Earth he came to this conclusion. “I’m into who now?”

    “Mark,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “don’t have to pretend like you’re surprised.”

  “I’m not into--” you sigh, a smile of disbelief tugging at your lips. “Okay, tell me why you think I’m into Mark.”

    “I don’t think. I know,” Donghyuck argues and you scoff, “but it’s obvious. And I have proof. Take when we were playing volleyball for instance. The whole time, you kept eyeing Mark up and laughing at his jokes. All of them. Even the weird ones that nobody gets.”

    You snort. “Baby… I wasn’t ‘eyeing Mark up’, I was watching him just in case he missed the ball. And about the joke thing, to his credit, some of them were actually pretty funny! But, as for the the rest--and don’t tell Mark I said this--I felt kinda bad nobody else laughed at them, so I just laughed along with him. Trust me, I’ve been in his shoes before and it sucks. Not all of us are born as naturally as funny as you, Hyuck.” You’re a little remorseful that you’re essentially dissing Mark, but you’re sure he’d understand. Your relationship’s on the line here.

    Donghyuck harrumphs, but you can tell by the slight quirk of his lip that he’s a little tickled by you poking fun at Mark and he’s totally been swayed by your compliment.

    “Okay, fine that explains that, but how about when we went swimming just now? Why did you and Mark keep exchanging funny looks?”

    “That?” You giggle. “You know how your drink was mysteriously replaced by seawater?”

    “Yeah,” he trails off, his suspicion growing by the second.

    “Who do you think that was?”

    Donghyuck groans. “Wait, that was you? Seriously? That was mean, babe.”

  “Aww, I know, Hyuck. I’m sorry,” you coo. Your hand inches its way closer to his as you attempt to intertwine your fingers together.

    Donghyuck rejects your endeavour of fondness. “Nu-uh, no way. I’m not done with you yet.”

    “Oh my God, Hyuck, there’s more?” you complain, though there’s a tint of amusement in your voice.

    “Yes, there’s more, and you won’t be able to worm your way out of this one either,” he says smugly, as if it’d be a good thing if you in fact, couldn’t worm your way out of his next accusation. “How about when we went to get ice cream and you kept sliding up next to him?”

    You pout. “I just wanted to try the watermelon popsicle he got.”

    Donghyuck blinks at you, his once irritated expression dissolving. He seems dumbfounded as you hold his gaze, your mirthful smile never faltering. He turns away from you. “Oh, well… then whatever. I guess you aren’t into Mark.”

    “Hyuck,” you say, hand crawling up his arm, “were you jealous?”

    “Well, yeah, obviously,” he deadpans, still refusing to meet your gaze.

    You giggle. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

    His cold facade is immediately abandoned at your teasing intonation, and just like that, your cheery Hyuck is back. “Baby,” he whines, readjusting himself so he’s facing you head-on, “don’t tease me. I couldn’t help but be jealous, you know?”

    “And why is that?”

    Donghyuck purses his lips. “Why? What do you mean why?” He gestures up and down, eyes sweeping over you. “Look how pretty you are! What am I supposed to do when you look this good all the time? It’s unfair, really, that you’re this pretty.”

    A blistering heat, one that is much hotter than the Sun, gathers in your cheeks. “Oh really now, Hyuck?”

    “Yes, really,” he says, genuity seeping into his every word. “Literally, everyday I’m surprised you’re even real.” You grin bashfully and Donghyuck pounds his fist to his chest dramatically like he’s been shot. “See! You’re only smiling and I’m already having heart palpitations at just twenty years old.”

    “Okay, okay, Hyuck. You can stop hyping me up now,” you chuckle. You’re beyond glad that your boyfriend has returned to his spirited self, but you know you should address what just happened seriously, just in case. “But hey, I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Looking back, it definitely could’ve been misinterpreted as flirting and I would never want you to have any reason to feel insecure about our relationship because you own my heart, Hyuck.”

    “Aw, babe, you can be really cheesy when you want to be,” says Donghyuck, pinching your cheeks. He plays what you said off casually, but you know that deep down, it resonates with him, and he honestly appreciates your sincerity. “Come here, I need a hug.”

    “Right now? There are people around, Hyuck.”

    “But you look so good right now. I can’t resist.”

    “I don’t know, Hyuck…” You smile demurely.

    “Alright, then what about,” Donghyuck reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering, “we ditch the beach day and go cuddle in the car? My skin’s burning, anyway.”

    You grin. “They’re gonna notice that we went missing, you know?”

    “So?” Donghyuck challenges, leaning in to place a short but telling kiss on the juncture which connects your ear and your jaw. “Even better. I want them to know.”

[lloydskywalkers]

chrysanthemum

1/2 of the fics i wrote for the 10th anniversary zine!! if you haven’t checked it out yet please do @ninjaneverquit-zine , everyone worked so hard and did such a wonderful job, i’m beyond honored to have been included <3

I may not have been in the fandom since the start, but ninjago means the world to me - it’s gotten me through some of the worst times and pushed further in writing than i thought i’d go, and the fandom’s been a particularly bright light in my life since i’ve joined 💕and of course i can’t not celebrate that by writing for the light of my life lloyd garmadon, so here’s me crying over the garmadons anniversary-style :’D

Garmadon’s son has only been on the earth for twenty-four hours, and he’s only been Lloyd for nineteen, but he already finds himself terrified of the tiny, living thing he cradles in his arms.

“He’s so small,” he tells Misako, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Is he supposed to be this small?”

Misako, who’s been answering questions similar to this for the better part of the morning, rolls her eyes. “He’s fine, Garmadon. He was born a little early, that’s all.”

Not as reassured as he should be, Garmadon returns his gaze to his son. He’s sleeping now, deathly still in his arms, and he resists the urge to wave a hand over his tiny face, if only to feel the small puffs of breath he knows must be there. He brushes a wisp of hair from his head instead, marveling at how pale it is.

“He’s got my father’s hair,” he murmurs.

“I don’t care, Garmadon, we’re still not naming him after the man.”

It’s Garmadon’s turn to roll his eyes. “I never said that. I said Montgomery was an unacceptable name to burden my son with.”

“Oh, your son.”

He misses the rest of her retort as Lloyd fidgets briefly, tiny features screwing up as he shifts. A flash of lightning from outside brightens the room, and Garmadon pulls Lloyd closer reflexively. The thunder crack follows soon after, and Garmadon flinches, the thick smell of rain filtering through the open windows. He can already see thick droplets sliding down the hydrangeas Misako’s growing in the windowsill, drowning the pale flowers. It’s been pouring all week, typhoons hitting the coast with gusto as they always do this time of year. Garmadon doesn’t like it — his son is much more suited for the sun and all its brightness, not the grey-skied downpour of thunderclouds.

Lloyd hardly reacts to the downpour, having gone still and silent in his arms once again. Garmadon’s heartbeat quickens. He shouldn’t sleep this much, should he? He doesn’t remember Wu being like that, but he was so young when Wu was born, and it was so long ago, and he can’t feel for Lloyd’s breathing now because the breeze pouring through the window’s too strong, and—

A soft hand sets on his shoulder. “Here,” Misako sighs, guiding Garmadon’s hand to rest gently over Lloyd’s chest. “Feel. That’s a heart, going strong.”

Despite his hesitance, a deep-rooted part of him still desperately afraid his touch might hurt something so small, Garmadon does so. Lloyd’s heartbeat is rapid and as fragile as a bird’s wing, but undeniably there. A small, living thing.

Something warm curls in his chest, and Garmadon thinks he might understand his father’s delight in creation — in things that live.

Not, of course, that his father has ever created anything so perfect as Lloyd, but Garmadon can credit him for having tried.

* * *

It’s weird, having a dad.

Not the concept of having a dad — Lloyd’s bragged enough about being the son of Lord Garmadon to at least get that part. But actually having him here, a living, breathing person who looks at Lloyd and cares—

It’s weird, that’s all. Not that it’s a bad weird.

“You need to wrap your hands, before you go hitting things like that,” Garmadon scolds gently, twisting gauze around Lloyd’s bruised, swollen fingers. “The others can show you how, for training. They should have shown you earlier.”

Lloyd bites his lip. He doesn’t tell his dad that the bruises are less from training, and more from pointlessly banging on bars in an attempt to get on Pythor’s nerves. It sounds silly, compared to the way his dad swept in like a big hero and took out all the snakes in single swipes.

A big hero. Lloyd wonders if the others will ever see him that way, too.

His hand twinges as the gauze pulls tight, and Lloyd sucks in a sharp breath. Garmadon flinches, drawing his hands back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quickly. “I keep forgetting — you’re so small.”

Lloyd makes a face at that. Small? “I’m not that short,” he grumbles. “I’ve grown lots.”

“Of course you have,” Garmadon amends. “I only—”

His expression twists, and Lloyd’s stomach drops. There’s that look again.

“I’m sorry,” Garmadon repeats, sounding downtrodden.

Lloyd purses his lips. For all his bragging, he’s never really thought much about whether he likes his family or not. It’s hard, when you don’t have one around to like. Watching the way his dad worries and his uncle walks around all stone-faced now, Lloyd’s not sure he should like it. He likes Uncle Wu, of course, and he loves his dad, but—

He hates the way they all walk around like they’re preparing for a funeral. His dad’s funeral, his funeral, whichever it ends up being. It’s stupid. Lloyd’s lived on the streets for months, and in Darkley’s even longer. He wouldn’t have minded walking around like he’s doomed for misery then.

But now? When he’s got people who care, and a family?

Lloyd sets his mouth stubbornly. He doesn’t know much about destiny, or the prophecy, but he knows he’s not about to lose this. Not when he’s come so far, when he’s so close to having — to being someone worth having around.

No funerals, Lloyd promises himself. He can see this prophecy through — they both can, the two of them. You have to be alive to be a family, right?

“It’s okay,” he finally replies. “I’m alright, dad.”

And he’s gonna stay that way.

* * *

When Garmadon had thought about the final battle in the past, he’d expected the darkness. The destruction, the pain.

He hadn’t expected to survive.

“So you’re really giving up fighting, then?”

Glancing up at Lloyd, taller now yet still small enough to not quite fit his bright golden gi, Garmadon finds survival a very welcome surprise.

“Yes,” he says, returning his gaze to the flowerbeds Misako’s helped him put in the monastery garden. They’re coming along well, despite the recent fits of bad weather, and they do a fine job of making the monastery look homey. Unthreatening.

He hopes, at least.

“I think I’ve done enough fighting, for my part,” he continues. He gives Lloyd a wry look. “I’m not sure Ninjago could take much more of it from me, anyways.”

“I dunno,” Lloyd says. “It’s been getting pretty boring.”

Garmadon snorts. “Boring is something you should appreciate, son. Excitement isn’t always good.”

“No, but it isn’t bor—dull,” Lloyd mutters, crouching down to study the flowerbeds. Garmadon shakes his head in reply, sighing. He remembers being his son’s age once, yearning for the next thrill, even if it feels ages away now.

He’s got a whole lecture on appreciating the quiet moments on the tip of his tongue, too, when Lloyd speaks up again.

“We used to have these flowers at Darkley’s,” he says, tilting his head as he studies them. “Some of the boys tore them all up and threw ‘em at the window, but they were pretty before that."

Garmadon bites the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows furrowing. His expression softens as he spots the gentle way Lloyd handles the flower, carefully pushing it back to place. It never fails to baffle him how someone as gentle as Lloyd could’ve come from his beginnings, much less from Garmadon, but he treasures it.

“Snapdragons,” Garmadon says, instead. “Fitting flowers, for our family.”

Lloyd looks at him curiously, eyes bright with the light of suspicion, and Garmadon is tempted to tell him the full truth, then and there. But Lloyd is still so young, innocent and naive and barely come to terms with his place as the Green Ninja. The truth of their blood is a heavy one, and Garmadon can’t find it in himself to lay it on Lloyd’s shoulders today. No, his son is happy among humans, so a human he’ll let him be. Someday he’ll know he’s more, closer to the dragons he admires than he realizes, but not quite yet.

Miraculously, Garmadon has the time, now.

“If you stay after dinner, I can show you how they’re planted,” he offers. Lloyd nods, and Garmadon’s smile widens.

Destruction is in his blood, and he’d be blind to say it isn’t in Lloyd’s as well. Power is power, whether it’s bright and beautiful or stained in darkness, and Lloyd could shatter mountains as well as move them, if he wanted.

But Lloyd never moves to pull the flowers up, only watches them rustle slightly in the breeze, leaving them to grow a little bigger, a little brighter. Garmadon, for his part, watches his son, all bright eyes and the burnished gold hair of his grandfather, and reminds himself that one needs not be a master of creation to appreciate life.

* * *

Lloyd likes to think of himself as an optimist, for the most part. He’s at least good at pretending that he is one, with how many times he’s had to convince himself it’s worth it to get back up.

Right now, he’s trying to remember how he’s ever managed to convince himself, because this time, getting back up seems impossible.

Lloyd used to wonder, back during Morro, how far you had to push yourself to break like that. How far someone had to push you, to truly splinter. He thinks he might have found his answer, though his is less of a bitter hatred and more of an empty abyss of hurt.

It hurts to breathe. That would be a sign that something’s wrong, if Lloyd didn’t already have about sixty other signs that he’s in trouble. But the breathing thing is sticking out to him especially, right now. His lungs feel like they’re scraping against his ribs every time he tries to draw breath, bruised and stinging, and there’s a deep ache in his chest that grows worse by the minute.

He tries swallowing again, sand scraping down his throat as he does. He hisses out a breath instead of coughing, almost frightened that his lungs will give out completely if he does.

He says almost, because Lloyd isn’t sure what emotions he’s got left to feel anymore.

A lie. Pain starts numb, sometimes.

Lloyd’s chest spasms as he sucks in another breath, and he wishes the desert would swallow him whole. His father — his real father, who pushed him from the Cursed Realm and told him to return to light and living — would want him to stand back up. He’d beg him to, stress the importance of continuing on, of persevering. Stuff like that.

But if it wasn’t for his father, Lloyd wouldn’t have to get back up in the first place. If it wasn’t for his father, Lloyd wouldn’t be—

His eyes burn, stinging as he squeezes them tightly shut, and he tells himself it’s the sand.

Instead, he focuses on the ragged beat of his heart. He only knows it’s there because his chest throbs in pain with every pulse, but he latches onto the feeling and holds tight.

Still alive, he tells himself, even as every bit of him sings in agony and his lungs scream at him to stop. He’s still alive. His powers aren’t answering him but they will, he knows they will, he can’t disappear like he did with Morro. He can’t — he can’t leave it, not like this, not with his father — not like this. If he can’t stop Harumi, if he can’t save his father, if he can’t do anything else at all, he can at least do this.

Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive.

He’s never realized how long the nights out here are, before.

* * *

After everything, the light dies down and the Oni vanish, and Lloyd’s heart stops.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to Garmadon, who isn’t even sure his own heart beats now, but it is.

It’s not supposed to stop. There was a promise made, somewhere, to keep it beating.

It restarts before he has the chance to process what that even means, and the swell of relief is so foreign, Garmadon leaves before he even has the chance to ask Lloyd what he’d seen. He thinks to himself, that will be the end of it. The end of whatever tentative connection he has with the boy, whatever frayed and tattered threads of something they once had. Better to cut them away for good.

Lloyd’s not one to let things die, though. Garmadon should know that at least, the boy tells him.

“I know you like repeating yourself,” he mutters. “Letting go is different.”

“That’s not what this is,” Lloyd huffs back.

Garmadon rolls his eyes, the two of them drifting aimlessly down the Ninjago City garden paths. It’s secluded, the rest of the city still recovering, and Garmadon’s grateful for the quiet, even if it is awkward. Building any kind of bridge with the boy is difficult, if only because Lloyd stresses that they’re rebuilding a bridge, and Garmadon has no memory of any bridge to begin with.

He’s still sifting through jumbled emotions, sorting out what his place in this world was and is supposed to be, but he knows that the word son slips easier from his mouth than daughter ever did, so he figures he’s on the right path, at least.

“It’s about—” Lloyd pauses, his expression contorting. “It’s about surviving, I guess,” he grinds out.

Garmadon’s mouth curls into a grin. “Really. You were quite…vocal, that it was about more than that.”

“It is, it’s just—” Lloyd cuts off again, stopping them in a half-ruined section of garden still littered with remnants of concrete. “It’s the payoff, you know? Here.”

He bends down, brushing dust from a surviving scattering of flowers. He gently touches the edge of a petal, pushing the flower head toward the sun. “See?” he says. “After all that, it’s still alive.”

Garmadon stares at the delicate edges of the petal, smaller and more fragile than any of the buildings that crumbled beneath his rule. At Lloyd’s nod, he stretches his own fingers out toward it, his hand impossibly dark and calloused next to his son’s own small one. But he brushes his fingers over the petal edge nonetheless, almost surprised that it doesn’t decay beneath his touch. It’s soft, he notes, like the fragile skin of a newborn. Odd that it should’ve survived, out of everything else that perished.

“So it is,” he says, carefully. Lloyd says nothing, but there’s a ghost of a smile around his lips. They must make an odd sight, the pair of them crouched in the dirt in the recovering garden. There’s no use in sitting here and looking at the flower, no explanation Garmadon can offer himself, but he doesn’t leave. He can take the moment, he decides, to appreciate what Lloyd is trying to show him.

They too, after all, are still alive.

[justfangirlthingies]

Marry your Daughter (Legolas)

This is a songfic for the song 'Marry your Daughter'

The story plays in between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, well actually it doesn't really matter when it plays

This is my first time writing for Legolas, so just bear with me ok?

Summary: Legolas makes his way to (Y/n)'s father to ask him a very important question or rather ask for approval.

Idk what race you wanna be, so if you're an elf just consider this as an Elvish conversation, for any other race it'd be in English I suppose.

Warnings: none? I think? If you find anything lmk though

Word count: 1640 words

A young ellon walked through the halls of the castle. He strutted through the halls with grace, not letting anyone see how nervous he actually was. He had only seen your father two or three times. Needless to say, he hadn't really had the chance to properly get to know him those few times. Legolas came to a halt in front of two large willow wood doors, which were guarded by two wardens. The two bowed before him briefly, before one of them entered through the doors. Probably announcing the young prince's arrival to the king. When the doors opened once more, the prince was shown into the room, the doors closing behind him. The ellon walked up to the man sitting upon his throne and knelt before him. Just casualties amidst royalty.

Once Legolas got back onto his feet, he heard the king's voice speak up. "Legolas Thranduilion, prince of the woodland realm, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He asked.

The man you were currently courting took in a deep breath and tried to keep his shaky exhale as quiet and unnoticeable as possible, before he spoke up "Sir, I'm a bit nervous 'bout being here today. Still not real sure what I'm going to say. So, bear with me please if I take up too much of your time"

At that, the older man cocked an eyebrow, genuine curiosity overtaking his features. He already had a hunch that whatever this was, had to be about (Y/n), his only daughter and also the oldest of all his 3 his children. "Your Majesty, as you know, your daughter (Y/n) and I have been courting and I wanted to-to" The elven prince cut himself off, the nervousness coursing through his veins finally seemed to affect his actions. In the heat of the moment, he decided that maybe it would be easier to get this off his chest if he just showed the object, which he had been carrying with him for a few months now, to your father "See in this box is a ring for your oldest"

Your father's eyes widened at the object. Yes, he expected some kind of talk, but not that kind of talk just yet. The box in Legolas' hands was decorated with intricate and highly complicated looking patterns. Though the ring he did not get to see. "She's my everything and all that I know is-" The blond stopped his sentence and sighed, finally looking up at your father and maintaining some intense eye contact. "it would be such a relief if I knew that we were on the same side. 'Cause very soon, I'm hoping that I can marry your daughter and make her my wife."

"And how do you think that would turn out? What would you expect of a union with her. How would it benefit (Y/n)?" The monarch asked in return, his eyes still trained on his future son in law.

Legolas saw this as a good sign. He had not denied the request to give his blessing to this marriage, yet. "I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life and give her the best of me 'til the day that I die"

"What if I said no?" A smirk graced the king's lips as his (e/c) eyes bore into the young ellon's blue ones. The elf's face fell as he failed to notice the playful shimmer in the older man's eyes. He quickly retained his proud posture and continued on, answering the old man's question "All due respect Your Majesty, I do not mean to offend you, but I am asking for your blessing and possibly your approval, but in no way am I asking for your permission because I'm most certainly gonna marry your princess and make her my queen. She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen." The elven prince smiled at that thought. At the thought of you in your wedding dress. He would stand, waiting and watching at the altar, while you'd make your way down the isle. "I can't wait to smile. When she walks down the aisle. Preferably, on the arm of her father." The king watched as Legolas' brilliant blue eyes glimmered with love, happiness and admiration at the mere thought of you. He also took notice of the determination that sparked from the ellon's eyes. "On the day that I marry your daughter"

"Why (Y/n)? How can I be certain you will not mistreat my daughter?" Was all your father questioned in response. He was curious and wanted to make sure the man before him really was genuinely in love with you. Because of the fact that he always heard the way you talk about Legolas, he knew you were utterly in love with the elf. However, no matter how much you might have adored this man, your father wanted to create his own picture of the prince, without including the opinions of others. He simply had to judge for himself, if Legolas was worthy of his 'little girl' or more like, as close to worthy as one can get because in his opinion, no one was, is or would ever be good enough for you. The younger male immediately answered the other's question, ready to take any chance to prove himself to the man you called your father "She's been here every step since the day that we met. I'm scared to death to think of what would happen if she ever left. So, don't you ever worry about me ever treating her bad"

"You have already thought all of this through, haven't you?" The king chuckled slightly. A sign is what Legolas saw this as. A sign, that he might indeed get a blessing for this union. With that thought in the back of his head, he smiled and eagerly nodded his head yes "Yes indeed, I have most of it thought out already. If she has any extra wishes or wants to alter or make changes or additions to anything, she can do so. After all, it is in my interest to make this perfect for her. I've got most of my vows done so far, so bring on the better or worse and 'til death do us part. There's no doubt in my mind. It's time. (Y/n) and I have discussed the topic quite a few times, though I do not think she expects me to ask her nor has she any suspicion of my plans just yet. Which is why, the way I view it, this is a tremendous opportunity to surprise her. I'm ready to start, I swear to you with all of my heart."

Your father slowly lifted himself from the throne and walked up to Legolas "You swear, you say?" The man was intimidating, but the ellon stood his ground "Indeed. I swear it. I'm gonna marry your daughter and make her my wife. I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life and give her the best of me 'til the day that I die. yeah I'm gonna marry your princess and make her my queen. She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen. I can't wait to smile as she walks down the aisle, on the arm of her father. I know she would want you to approve and to have you there and so would I, on the day that I marry your daughter.

"It seems like you really do mean it..." The older one thought aloud. "I mean it, I really do" Legolas spoke up, he hadn't even properly acknowledged that your father was now in very close proximity and that what he said was more of a statement than a question. With that, Legolas remembered your first encounter, a dreamy look took over his features for a moment as he spoke "The first time I saw her, I swear I knew, that I'd say 'I do' "

The ruler over your kingdom took another look at Legolas before he announced "If that really is the case, which it seems to be and if (Y/n) really wants this, there is no stopping my stubborn daughter" he laughed loudly "then I suppose I have no choice, but to give this marriage my blessing."

I'm gonna marry your daughter and make her my wife. I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life and give her the best of me 'til the day that I die

The blond's eyes went wide. Had his ears deceived him or did he really just hear what he had heard? At that the old king chuckled "You better treat her well..." He hesitated for a moment before finishing his sentence and patting the elf's shoulder "...son."

The elvish prince nodded, his eyes widened even more at the sudden contact and with the biggest of grins plastered on his face, he replied "I will, do not fret."

I'm gonna marry your princess and make her my queen. She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen.

"I better not regret this decision" Your father muttered "You will not regret it, I assure you" The younger male responded immediately.

I can't wait to smile, as she walks down the aisle, on the arm of her father...

"I expect I still get to see her regularly." He paused "And you as well, I need to know what kind of man I just allowed entry to my family." Now it was Legolas' turn to laugh "Of course. We will visit as often as we can and you may come and pay us a visit as well sometime......adar"

...on the day that I marry your daughter

Taglist: @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr