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i-cant-sing · 2 months ago

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Time Traveller AU part 12

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

You and Silas stared at each other.

"What do you mean "okay"?"

You nod. "Okay, I'll marry you."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"That is not an answer." He frowned, making you sigh as you turned your body to face him completely. "Look, you're going to pay me anyways right?" He nodded. "So, I need the money, and well... lets just say I have nothing else left to lose. Maybe I'm just bored."

Bored? More like pissed at the universe and I will not let it beat me to the ground anymore. I wont go out without causing chaos and maybe if someone tries to kill me again, I will perhaps consider disrupting the historical timeline to make the universe itself combust and unravel. If I'm suffering, I'm taking the universe along!

Silas gave you an incredulous look, before shrugging in defeat. "Very well, then."

"Wait-" You stop him from getting up. "Why did you choose me? Actually, why do you need a wife?"

He rolled his eyes, standing up, you following along. "Come on, Silas. Tell me. Is it cause I'm pretty? Smart-"

"You dressed as a man."

What?

"What?"

He looked down at you. "What? You didnt think I'd spot you in that poor disguise at the newspaper office that day?"

Silas saw me that day? He recognised me?

"How did you even-" He scoffed. "I'm intelligent. And I have eyes. I notice everyone and everything." He turned around and began walking away.

"Wait!" You ran after him. "That still doesnt answer my question! You're marrying me because I dressed like a man? What- you're attracted by that-"

"Stop talking." Silas cut you off abruptly. "I chose you because you work at the newspaper, not because you're a man."

"Oh. So you need someone to write out articles singing your praises?Cant you just pay someone to do that?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I dont need someone to sing my praises. I need you to be the mole there. I want you to report everything that happens at the paper, specifically about the murders thats been on going these days."

Murders? Murders-

"The White Chapel murders?" He nodded. "I need the papers to focus on them, not on me or who I am marrying. I need them to put the pressure on the cops to catch that sick bastard! Not idolise him with that stupid alias-"

"Jack the Ripper." You finish for him. He breathes heavily, anger radiating off him. "Yes, that. Because its only causing people to either admire him for killing off those prostitutes or fear him, letting the idea of them terrorise them!"

"I see. But... why do you need to get married to me for that? I mean, if you pay me, I could just report to you everything from there, including his letters."

Silas looked at you in slight annoyance, as if mad that you couldnt figure out his motives.

"The papers are focusing on me and my marriage. If I get married, the news will only run for a week or two before diverting their attention to the papers. And before you ask why I'm marrying you specifically instead of someone much better suited to my tastes-" okay, not gonna take that insult to heart. "- I told you, you work at the paper, which means you'll report everything to me. And if I were to marry someone more influential, the papers will continue to write about us for longer. But you? You're a nobody- believe me, I checked. You have no family, dont come from nobility, so no one will talk about you. "

Great. "Wow, you do know how to flatter a woman."

Silas smirked. "Trust me, "a woman" would be flattered-" You shot him a glare before he could finish off his joke.

Silas and you got married later that night. He arranged an out-of-town priest, some official documents, and two witnesses for the vows, which were his butler Cadbury and his wife, Erin, who acted as the best man and maid-of-honor. It was obvious that Silas wanted to keep this ceremony a secret, and he told you that the time will come to break the news.

When the priest asked him to kiss you, SIias pulled a face and said to skip over that part because you had bad breath. You did not. Jerk.

But you were glad you didnt had to kiss him, so you didnt bother kicking his shin. Maybe nearly dying so many times has made you grow a pair, or maybe its the fact that you dont actually consider this a real marriage because a Nikkah (an Islamic wedding) ceremony did not happen, so technically, you're still single, but you're surprised at how... calmly you've come to terms with everything.

Silas let you go back to you house, because the marriage was the still a secret so there's no use keeping you around at his place. Besides, he needs you to continue working on the murders.

Honestly, you do kind of want to find out who Jack the Ripper is. Any historian worth his salt, dreams of this very opportunity you've been given- to find out the man behind all the horrendous, gut wrenching murders.

Colin watched you get up from your desk and go to the corner office where Will was working on the murders. Poor Will. Colin pitied the lad- he had to deal with the gruesome details of the murders, write out the articles in details that are just pallatable enough for the readers, only to be rejected by the editor who wanted the front page news to be about Silas FitzGeorge.

What were you doing there? Colin didnt think it was best for you to go in there, after the depressing weeks you'd barely pulled yourself through. Grisly details of a killing spree might not be what you need at the moment.

"Hey Will!" You walk in his office, changing your voice to that of a man.

"Holmes." He acknowledged you briefly, his hair a mess as well his desk. If anyone knew how giddy you were everytime someone in the office called you Sherlock Holmes, you'd be labelled a loser for sure.

"Still working on those murders, eh?" You walk closer to his desk. "Any leads on who the mystery man might be?"

"No." He glared at you. "I would, if the coppers were to do their job and the editor published my work, but noooo. God forbid we miss any details on that FitzGeorge fella and his tragic life. Cry me a fucking river-" Ah, a fellow Silas hater. You can work with that.

"Let me help you." You offer him. Will raises his brow, before scoffing. "Unless you can somehow have the editor publish my articles, I dont think you can help me. Besides, I dont need an amateur disturbing me because he's just wants to see a dead body."

Amateur? Pfft, I'll have you know I was a minor celebrity on Wattpad at just age 11 when I wrote Sherlock Holmes fanfics-

"How about this? If I can convince the editor to post your work, will you let me help?"

Will stares at you, studying you for a moment.

"Fine."

You walk out of his office and go to your desk where Colin is already waiting for you.

"Hey, Colin." You greet him, sitting down as you pull a blank sheet of paper from your drawer and start writing on it.

"Hey... Sherlock. What were you doing in-" He leans down to read what you're writing. "Jack The Ripper- why are you writing about him?"

You shrug. "Why not? He's an important figure to talk about and needs to be caught. If the papers bring enough attention to him, it'll put pressure on the authorities to work harder to catch him."

"I get that, but- I mean, you already have the FitzGeorges to write about and what about other douches in high society?" Colin tried to persuade you.

"I'll write about them too, in fact. Dont worry about it. I'm going to bring you some real dirt soon." You tell him before picking up the pen again, but Colin grasps your wrist, stopping you.

"Y/n, I just dont think that you should be working on this right now-"

"Colin." You cut him off, freeing your wrist. "I'm grateful for your concern for my well being, but I assure you- I am not made of glass. I can handle my business. Besides, this is something that has intrigued me. Let me work on it, please." You say before returning to writing down your points on the homicidal maniac.

After work, you changed out of your disguise and went to the antique store on Regent street, or what was left of it.

You knew there was no chance, but something inside you hoped that your time machine had survived.

The store was burnt down, and since the interior was mainly made of wood, most of the antiques had burnt to ashes or at least, damaged beyond repair and could not be sold.

You stood outside the ruins off the store, the property was sealed off and guards stood outside it, not letting you in.

"Please, I just need to-"

"Like I said, miss. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in." The guard cut you off, annoyed by your insistence.

Before you could argue again, someone walked up behind you.

"Y/n." Henry looked at you. He was dressed well, his hair combed and face shaved, well kept as he usually was but his eyes.... he had bags under his eyes. Like he hadnt slept in days.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, um- I just wanted to see if my stuff is still there."

He nodded at his guards to step aside, leading you inside the shop.

"Look around. See if you can find it." Henry's tone was flat, as if he already knew.

Still, you looked around. You searched the whole place, not even finding the remains off your machine. And how could you? It was made of mostly plastic and very cheap metal, its not like you had funds to make it indestructible.

Or incombustible.

"Satisfied?" He asked you when you finally stopped looking for it.

You huff. "If you'd just given it to me before-"

"Y/n." He cut you off. "I lost my store. I lost my employee who was working in here, who was blasted to pieces. I lost more money than you can ever imagine and you have the nerve to stand there and try to blame it on me? After I'd given you the courtesy to look through my property to put your mind to ease?"

He admonished you, all while barely letting his rage slip through his voice. He was holding back from blowing up on you, but it did not help because you still felt small.

Because he is right. He lost an employee. He lost money. He lost too, and yet you have the audacity to complain to him like he was somehow at fault.

And he wasnt. Its not like he bombed his store.

"Do you know who did it?" You ask, diverting your eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.

"No one "did" it. It was an accident." Henry looked at the floorboard. "Apparently, there was gunpowder in some of the artefacts that came from China that day. The employee probably didnt check it when he put it on the table, next to a candle. Then one got lit up and it set off all the others, blowing up the whole store."

That... sounds like a big coincidence.

"Henry, are you sure someone wasnt behind this-"

"Y/n, I dont have time to entertain your wild theories right now. I have to deal with insurance and other things. Please leave." He cut you off abruptly.

Without giving him another moment to bruise your self esteem, you stormed out of his store. By the time you reached home, it was dark, which wasnt the best idea with a murderer on the loose- as the boys made it clear.

"Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! Have you seen the crime scenes?!" Liam yelled at you.

"No. But its not like I'm a prostitute, so he wont hurt me." You answer from your seat between Benjamin's legs, who insisted on brushing the knots out of your hair and placing some essential oils in your hair.

Liam looked at you like you'd grown two heads. "How would he know that?!"

You leaned forward, frowning. "Okay if you're saying that you cant the difference between a prostitute and me, then thats just insulting to me and to you as a police officer!"

Shepherd suppressed a chuckle as he handed a drink to Liam to calm him down. As they continued to joke around, you mind went to your time machine.

Sure, you could try making it from scratch again. It'll be difficult, and not just because there isnt enough technology to make the whole thing by yourself, but also because the mere idea of building a time machine could have you lobotomised.

So yes, one of the reasons why you agreed to marry Silas was because of his money that would not only let you buy expensive raw materials but also allow you to have a space to make the machine in secret.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Colin left to see who it was, returning moments later with a huge box in his hand.

"Its for you." He set the box down and handed you the letter that came with it. You read the letter while the boys opened the box-

"Tomorrow. 7:30 pm sharp.

Dont be late, missus."

The "missus" part gave away that it was from Silas. What was he planning? Were you supposed to go to his place or was he going to pick you up? What was going to happen tomorrow?

"Woah! Who is this from?" Shepherd asked as he looked at the fancy dress in the box. He pulled it out of the box, the gown flowing down effortlessly. "It looks expensive- this is expensive, right? Its expensive." He stated before repeating his question to you. "Who is it from, Y/n?"

You folded the letter as you saw them all looking at you. "I... I might have a date-"

"With who?" Benjamin asked sharply.

"I-" You sigh. "I'll let you know after the date. Lets see how it goes first."

"Oh, come on! Just tell us!" Liam probed, but you took the dress from him, putting it back in the box and taking it to your room, not noticing how silent Colin had went.

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while Ben did your hair. Wearing the black velvet gown that had a white blouse and long skirt underneath, puffy regency era sleeves and a belt at the bust, you looked elegant.

Seeing as you had no jewellery to pair the outfit with, Ben styled your hair down, curling the locks and putting a dainty black silk bow on the back, trimming the front of your hair so that they framed your face.

"There's a carriage waiting for you!" Shepherd informed you before going back to gushing about the rich fella you'd managed to bag.

You turned around for Ben for the finishing touches. He smiled softly at you, taking your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

"Dont force yourself to do anything you're not comfortable with, hm? Just because he gave you this dress doesnt mean he can do anything he wishes." You nodded, returning his smile. "And remember, you have me and the boys to beat anyone who upsets you, Y/n." He winked making you giggle.

Standing outside the carriage, you looked up and waved to the 3 boys standing in the window before getting inside.

"Ah, I hope she knows how to use that knife I gave her." Liam mumbled, making Shepherd yell at him.

"You gave her a knife?!"

"What? She needs to protect herself when there's a murderer on the lose-"

As the two continued to bicker, Benjamin went to his room and packed some scissors and razors in a small bag, before leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Colin asked, finally speaking for the first time that evening. Sitting on the sofa chair, he'd been nursing on a drink the entire time you were getting ready for your drink. He kept quiet, pretending to be to engrossed with reading the paper to notice you getting dressed for your date night.

"I... have a client." Ben said, putting on his top hat and leather gloves before wearing his coat.

"This late?" Colin raised a brow.

Ben gave a nod.

"He... he needs a haircut urgently."

Colin stared at him before sighing, picking up his drink.

"Alright. Be careful. Its foggy out there."

Sitting inside the carriage alone, you wondered where the buttler was taking you. Since Silas isnt here with you, then its likely that you're being taken to him at the FitzGeorge estate.

You take a deep breath, fiddling with the velvet of your dress. So tonight will be the night he announces his marriage to you. Or maybe not. I mean, if he did plan on doing that then perhaps he'd be giving you some pointers on how to win over his family? To get their approval? It was a big thing for high society, if not for someone who is loosely attached to royalty.

Maybe thats why he called you over tonight. To soft launch you to his family, something like- "hey, this is Y/n, a girl I fancy. I think she might be the one." so that it seems a lot more believable when he does introduce himself as your husband, probably a few weeks or a month from now.

Yes. Silas doesnt seem like the type to just spring up the union on his family out of nowhere. He is English, he is noble, he wouldnt be one to cause a scene.

The carriage stopped after sometime, and you could hear people chattering outside. Your door suddenly opened, but before you could step out, someone stepped in.

It was Silas.

He sat across from you, wearing a formal dress black suit, his hair styled properly. If your dressing didnt give it away, then his did- it was definitely a black-tie event.

He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, looking you up and down.

"Here, wear this." He handed you a velvet lined box. Opening it, you saw a beautiful pearl necklace and matching tear drop earrings.

"Oh, this is... beautiful." You said in awe. "You could've sent this along with the dress, I would've worn my hair differently-"

"No, I didnt want to risk you running off with it." Silas casually insulted you as he began opening the door. "Wear this and dont talk to me or approach me in there."

"Wait, what?" You looked at him confusion.

Silas huffed in irritation. "I'm going to go back inside. You'll walk in after five minutes, and when you do, you will not talk to me, or approach me or do anything that gives away that you know me."

"Silas-" But he left before you could question what he was on about.

So... he wasnt planning on announcing his marriage to you tonight? Wearing the jewellery, you followed his instructions and exited the carriage exactly five minutes later.

But instead of seeing the FitzGeorge house, you were standing in front of a... palace.

A palace you're seen quite a few times.

Buckingham palace.

"What am I...?" You whispered to yourself before composing yourself as other guests began walking past you.

As you ascended the stairs to the entrance where guards stood, you wondered if they'd let you in. Surely, without Silas by your side or an official invitation, they wouldnt let you in. You watched a few guests holding an envelope with a royal seal, an invitation they showed to the guards before being let in.

Heart pounding as you feared the embarrassment you're about to face, you reached the guards who looked at you for a few moments, trying to recognise you before their eyes fell on your necklace and they let you pass.

Ah, so thats why he gave you the jewellery. If you looked like you belonged there, then you probably did.

Why am I here though?

You looked around and saw many people inside, all belonging from high society. This definitely wasnt the place where Silas was going to announce his marriage. So why did he invite you here?

Maybe he wants me to use this as an opportunity to get dirt on high society?

Yes, perhaps, but how would this serve him? Is there a specific person he wants me to get dirt on? Someone I need to write about in the papers?

Silas, what game are you playing?

You spotted him standing in the corner, talking with his cousins and uncles, though you noticed many girls looking at him. Of course, he still is the "most eligible bachelor" to them. If they knew how rude he was, maybe they'd change their opinion.

Walking through the crowd, you began listening on conversations, trying to pick up on interesting bits. It was the usual obnoxious bragging about their wealth, some scandals here and there, disturbing comments about women, etc. Nothing particularly interesting.

Fortunately, you werent bored for long as the royal butler announced the arrival of the hosts. It hadnt truly hit you where you were standing until you heard her name-

"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria-"

Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria.

You could feel goosebumps raising on your skin, your eyes widening as you realised you're looking at one of the most iconic figures in history. Alive. She's alive and she's walking right in front of you-

She's short. They were right about that. Standing next to her husband, Prince Albert, she looked even shorter. But she looked incredibly happy, full of youth as she stood next to him, unlike all the paintings who depicted her as this angry old widow.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

Her children stood behind her in order, all smiling at their mother. Her daughters, you recognised them all, looked just as beautiful. You recognised her eldest, Edward VII, a 20-something old boy who would end up being hated by his mother and blamed for his father's death. He looked nervous, standing beside her and you could see he was just itching to leave her side and avoid any more scrutiny.

The Queen began speaking.

"Thank you everyone for joining us on this pleasent occasion." She looked around. "Tonight, we are going to welcome a member to our family, even though he has always been a part of us. But now, we will make things official."

"Silas FitzGeorge." She called suddenly. You saw Silas step forward in front of the queen, bowing his head curtly before looking at her confidently.

"You're my cousin Georgie's grandson, and I have no doubt when I say that if he were here tonight, he'd be just as proud of the young man you've become as I am. Our families may have had some issues in the past, but I have always accepted you as a part of me. Over the years, you've only proven me right with how capable you've become on your own, without seeking a helping hand in your adversities. You have made us all immensely proud, as well as your predecessors for being the first man in our family to attend Oxford university. Watching you start businesses and expand your empire, I have no doubt that you will only continue to make the royal family and Britian proud. Therefore, I would like to offer my support and make good on my promise that I made to you when you were a child."

She turned around and a servant handed her a document.

"I hereby make Silas FitzGeorge, the Duke of Westminster."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh-

This was Silas's dukedom ceremony. Why is this a huge deal? Because his grandfather, Prince George was once estranged from the royal family and stripped off his royal duties and benefits when he married Sarah Fairbrother, which meant their descendents were all illegitimate and not recognised by the crown.

But tonight, with Silas becoming a duke, its like a welcome back to the family. That too, by the same woman who had in essence- ostracised his family.

And with Dukedom comes other benefits, money, property, influence. Not to mention that Silas has become the duke of Westminster, as in THE WESTMINSTER! One of the wealthiest dukedoms to get, and also where Westminster palace is, the place which is the meeting place for the Parliament of United Kingdom. It'll allows Silas to have a say and play around with politics.

This is a huge gesture by the queen, and if Silas wasnt the most eligible bachelor before, then he definitely is one.

You watched the queen sign the documents first, before giving it to Silas who signed it. Everyone cheered and clapped for the young duke before stopping as Victoria began speaking again.

"Now, I would like to share more good news." She smiled at Silas, who stood beside her now. "I would like to announce the new duke's betrothal to my daughter, Helena."

What?

The guests clapped again as you saw Silas looking ahead, purposely avoiding your gaze. The queen beamed as she looked back at Helena, who was blushing.

So this is why Silas didnt want you to talking to him. He knew he was going to marry Helena, and he didnt want anyone to even doubt that he's associated with you in any way. Is this his way of telling you that the sham marriage between you two has ended?

Victoria encouraged Silas to say a few words.

Silas looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wow. I am grateful that her majesty has awarded me dukedom. I dont have enough words to express how thankful I am to you." He looked up and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. "However, I was only informed of this ceremony and not of my betrothal beforehand."

The queen's head snapped in his direction, as did all of the royals, but Silas continued speaking unfazed.

"I wish I had been told about this earlier to avoid this awkward situation uhhh..." he chuckled nervously, but you could see he was anything but nervous. "I am honoured to be even considered for the princess's hand, your majesty, but I'm afraid I am already married." He announced, looking straight at you.

The hall interrupted into gasps and whispers before they parted the way to let Silas make his walk to you.

With a charming smile, a dimple on his left cheek, he approached you, pulling you into his arms as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispered loud enough for the onlookers to hear. Your eyes widened, your face flushed at the feeling of everyone's eyes and at his word.

"Si-" The words died down your throat as he placed an arm around your back and pulled you close to his side, showing you off.

"This is Y/n, my darling wife."

With Silas's announcement, the hall went silent once again. Your throat went dry at being put in the spotlight, and your eyes flickered from one guest to another, until finally falling on the queen's, who looked... pissed.

Finally, it was Prince Albert who broke the silence and announced dinner had been served. As the guests began walking out of the hall, Silas lead you out of the palace and to the carriage where his grandmother was waiting for you.

"Go home, now. I'll see you soon." Was all Silas said to you before whispering something to his grandmother, who beamed and nodded, patting his cheek.

"Come on, Y/n. Its getting late, now." Sarah said as she lead you into the carriage, taking her seat next to you, completely unaware of the eyes that had been following you since the moment you'd left home.

Silas returned inside, seeing his uncles smirking with pride at the game he'd just played but instead of going to them to celebrate his victory, he went to Prince Albert and Queen Victoria who seemed to be arguing in a low tone in the corner while the guests were being seated in the dining hall.

Clearing his throat, he got their attention.

"Your majesties, I am so sorry for not informing you about my union with Y/n. Its just my wife is terribly shy and we wanted to keep this marriage a secret. But I understand how this creates an embarrassing situation for the crown, and I would like to humbly turn down my dukedom-"

"No." The queen cut him off, her eyes void of any emotion. "The dukedom was awarded to you for your achievements, not because you were asked to marry my daughter. Helena is not something to pawn off to just anyone."

Silas offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, your majesty. I'm sure you'll find a better suitor for the princess." He took his bow before turning around to enter the dining hall while Victoria stared at his back.

"Are you really still going to keep him as the duke of Westminster?" Albert asked his wife.

She was fuming. But only Albert could tell.

"What choice did I have?" Victoria asked, still glaring at the young boy who dared to play her. "If I took the dukedom away after announcing it publicly, it would've been a far more embarrassment for the crown. They would call us "cheap"."

"We cant let him get away with it." Albert whispered. "Its Westminster. We may rule it, but the duke will still be able to influence the government."

"You think I'm not aware he wants to play politics?" Victoria snapped, before softening her tone. "I wont let him get away with it, Albert. He's just a boy. I am a queen. I wont let him or anyone humiliate us."

Silas sat down besides his cousins as his uncles raised their glasses to him. He sipped his drink, a satisfied grin resting on his face. He knew exactly what he did. Even though no one actually told him that the dukedom came with marriage to the princess, because how callous would it be to ask him to marry her when no one would give up the opportunity of becoming the queen's son-in-law, Silas knew he was expected to marry Helena.

But no one said it. No one asked him. Its the English, they never say what they mean outright, choosing to read between the lines and do what is expected of them, because its more artful, more honourable this way.

Not that Silas could care about traditions. Why would he, when he planned on exacting his revenge?

The queen only came to offer her support when he became successful enough on his own. Where was she when his parents died and his sister was left to take care of him? Sure, Victoria attended the funeral and "promised" to take care of him. But she also said she'd only do that if he proved himself. His grandmother and his sister, Daisy were the ones who raised him.

And now, years later when he got into Oxford without using his family name, without saying "I am related to the queen", when he used his skills to create a powerful business empire that has the potential to influence the British industries, she wants him?

Sure, Westminster has its benefits, but Silas doesnt need Westminster. Westminster needs Silas. He could topple over the government and even shut down Britain herself with just his influence alone. Being a duke just has given him a public platform, an acknowledgement and most importantly, backing from the crown.

And you? Marrying you wasnt just because you happened to be around. Oh no. Silas has plans for you, plans to use you and further his revenge. This is just the beginning.

Sarah dropped you back at your place after you insisted that you needed to inform your flatmates of your departure. She gave you a disapproving look when she found out you were living with 4 men and was very determined to have you move in with her and Silas at the FitzGeorge estate, but you were able to persuade her to let you stay the night at home one last time.

"There's something I need to tell you guys." You fiddled with your thumbs as they all sat down in front of you.

"I um... I'm married."

"What?" Shepherd asked. "And you still went on a date?"

"I went on a date with my husband-"

"And who is that?"

You took a deep breath.

"Silas FitzGeorge."

Everyone except for Benjamin broke into laughter.

"Yeah, good one. Seriously, who is it?"

You frowned. "Seriously. Its Silas FitzGeorge."

As you began explaining your situation, even showing them the jewellery that you definitely werent wearing before you left, they started to believe you.

"Y/n- you cant- you cant marry Silas. You cant just marry someone you barely know!" Colin argued.

"What? Havent you heard of "love at first sight"?" You ask but he was unamused. Sighing, you shrugged. "Look, its a marriage that will benefit us both mutually. He gets people nagging him to get married off his back and I get to use his money and influence to get dirt on high society! Besides, I can leave him anytime I want."

"Then leave him now, before its too late." Ben said, standing up as he approached you. He took your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "If its money you're worried about, I'll help you. I can provide for you, Y/n. Dont get into bed with these rich bastards, you dont know how selfish they can be. I- I- dont want you to get hurt-"

"I wont, Benny." You grab his arms, assuring him. "Silas and I are working together. If I go down, so will he. He wont hurt me, he cant. Its too risky for him now, you know? He announced our marriage tonight in front of the queen!"

As you began telling him about how you met the queen and all, Colin quietly left the living room to pour himself another drink, something to knock his brain out so he doesnt have to think about you and Silas.

Next day, before the sun even rose, you had packed up a few of your things to go live with the FitzGeorges. All the boys were awake at that time, though Colin's eyes were bloodshot from apparently drinking the wrong liqour, so he sat quietly on the sofa, watching you.

Liam and Shepherd took your bags to put it in the carriage waiting outside, while Ben pulled you in for a hug.

"I'm just moving out, Benny! I'll still see you guys." You laugh, patting his back.

Ben kissed the crown of your head before tucking it under his chin, arms tightening around you. "Just know that you will always have a home here, with us. Dont hesitate to reach out for help. And if Silas or anyone every hurts you, I dont care how rich they are, Y/n. I will take care of them. You just- just come back to us, hm?"

You pulled away from him, wiping a lone tear from your eye. "You're the best, Benny." You whisper before going to Colin, who just stared at you with red eyes.

Leaning down, you poked his cheek. "Kinda wish you werent drunk when I said goodbye, but I guess it makes it easier." Colin continued to stare at you. You grabbed his hand, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you for everything, Colin. You saved me. Truly." You gave his hand a firm squeeze before leaving, missing him mumble something under his breath.

The carriage took you to the FitzGeorge estate and you were a little disappointed to see only Sarah waiting to welcome you. Its not like you wanted Silas to make a grand gesture to welcome his bride, but you were kinda hoping he was going to ease you into his world while explaining the events of the previous night.

Sarah showed you around the house before leading you to Silas bedroom.

"Cadbury has already placed your bags in there." She turned to you. "This will be your space too, so do make changes to the place as you please."

You smiled shyly at her. Honestly, you dont know whether Sarah knows that Silas only married you for personal agenda, but she wasnt surprised when Silas announced you were his wife.

Sarah looked at you and she placed a hand on her chest, touched.

"Oh, I am so glad you're Silas's girl."

Silas's girl?

"When Silas told me he married you, I was only mad that he did it behind my back! But I suppose it is understandable... these FitzGeorge men always liked to make a statement when it came to love." Sarah said, fondly remembering her late husband.

Sarah continued to gush about you enough for you to know that you dont need to kiss her ass. You have her approval.

When she left, you looked around the large bedroom, Victorian and dark academia was the aesthetic. Wooden panels lined the room, the shelves were stocked with thick books, a study table in one corner, an ottoman chest seat in front of the bed. The entire room was illuminated by the large windows that opened into the balcony, overlooking the large gardens and the cold air of London.

Standing at his balcony, you couldnt help but wonder...

Silas definitely has to HAVE a mega douchebag personality if this was where he was raised.

I mean who wouldnt have an ego trip if they woke up to a view like this, a butler named CADBURY who probably brings him his bland tea and tells him about all the proposals he had, and Silas would just wave a hand in dismissal, telling his butler to reject them all on his behalf.

Silas lived like a king. Or at the very least, lived like the 1% of Britain.

Returning back into the room, you looked at the interior before a grin formed on your face.

Time to snoop around, Y/n. You made your way to his desk.

Lets see what secrets you're hiding, husband.

Silas walked in on you folding your clothes and placing them in his closet.

"What do you think you're doing?" He huffed, loosening his tie. He was still in his clothes from last night, having just returned home after celebrating with his uncles and cousins.

You turned to him, faking enthusiasm. "Hello to you too."

Silas rolled his eyes, sitting on his bed. "Dont touch my things." He began untying his shoes.

"Why? You worried my poverty would taint them?"

He looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes."

"Haha." You close the closet and turn to him. "We need to talk."

He looked at you miserably. "Cant it wait-" "No."

"Fine, then. Go on, I'm listening." He leaned against the headboard while you took your place on the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me last night that we were going to the palace? Or that you were going to announce our marriage?"

Tired eyes looked at you. "I didnt want to risk you getting cold feet."

Okay. Fair enough.

You gave him a nod. "Fine. Still would've liked a heads-up." "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Good night-" He began closing his eyes when you spoke again.

"No. We still need to talk about our situation." You looked at your lap, smoothing your dress before looking at him again, only to find his tired eyes studying you.

"Silas, who knows that our marriage is not... real?"

"It is a real marriage. We signed proper documents and all." He told you. "What you mean to ask is who knows our marriage is like mutually beneficial business deal? The answer is- no one, except for my butler and his wife, who wont say a word. And I want it to stay that way."

You raised a brow. "So... what exactly is the image you're trying to sell to the world? That we're a young couple, madly in love?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Silas." Your tone turned serious. "If you want people to believe this fairytale you're creating, then you need to get your stories straight. And involve me in it too!"

He tilted his head at you before sighing. "Fine. Lets say... we met two months ago."

"Where?"

He grinned. "Ballet theatre. Near Oxford university."

"Ballet theatre- are you trying to use your grandparents story?"

He shrugged. "So what if I am? Besides, people will love it."

You glared at him, but he continued on with his story. "So we met at the ballet theatre, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me. Your exact words were- "Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, have I died and went to heaven to witness the utter beauty of an angel-"

"I have seen rodents looking better than you." You cut him off.

"You're ruining my story." He scolded you. "Fine, we can say that after you were mesmerised by my beauty, you stalked me for a few weeks until I finally said yes out of pity-"

"Silas."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the details to you, just remember- we met at the theatre. Thats the most important part of the story."

"Okay, I'll add my version of the events, which you can read in the papers in a day or two." You stood up, walking over to the vanity. "I will be going to work from tomorrow. I'll tell your grandmother I'm going to visit some friends, and you'll drop me off at my old place where I'll change my clothes and then I'll go to the office."

"Very well." He turned his head to look at you. "But after you're done writing about us, continue working on the White Chapel murders."

You hummed, turning around. "Dont worry, I should be able to get access to the letters in a few days. Wait- Silas, didnt you say your friend owned the paper I worked for?" He nodded. "Well, can you ask him if he could let me, I mean- assign Sherlock Holmes to work on the case? You could bribe him with giving an exclusive interview about your marriage for the papers, in return, he has to let me work the murder story."

"Consider it done." Silas said, putting his arm over his eyes.

"Um, Silas?"

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Where am I to sleep?" With Sarah in the house, its not like you can occupy another room. It'll raise suspicion.

Silas removed his arm to look at you, before looking at his large bed.

You shake your head. "I am not sleeping in the same bed with you-"

"I wouldnt want that either." He said, grabbing a pillow. Your heart warmed at the gesture. He really was going to leave his bed for you, like the true gentleman-

Thud.

You looked at the pillow he'd thrown on the floor.

"There." He pointed before returning to bed.

"You want me to sleep on the floor?"

With his eyes closed, he replied. "You say that like you expected me to sleep on the floor."

"Well-"

"Its my room, my bed. Why would I sleep on the floor?"

"I dont know, whats the word- chivalry?!" You huffed, grabbing the pillow and walking near the closed balcony window. It was cold but you'd rather sleep with a pretty view than to wake up to Silas feet landing on your face.

Muttering curses under your breath, you soon fell asleep with your back turned to Silas. A few minutes later, he got off the bed and dropped a blanket on your sleeping body.

And they say chivalry is dead. He thought to himself, returning to his bed.

The next day, while dropping you off to work, you brought up the previous day's convo.

"I need something." Silas's gaze flickered from the window of the carriage to you. "What do you know about Henry Blackwood?"

Silas' looked bored again. "He's a fellow businessman, invests in people rather than companies, likes to keep his operations in the dark, which means he has secrets. His shop blew up some time ago, allegedly a "technical failure" but... I think someone did it."

"You think so too?" You asked, hopeful. "Do you know who?"

Silas shook his head. "No. His enemies, like his operations are secret. All I know is someone did it to send a message to him, blew up the shop deliberately while he was out."

A message?

"I want to get dirt on him." You watch Silas raise a brow at you. "Just... get me close to him, or to his people. I saw him talking to your uncles, maybe they know something?"

Silas shakes his head again. "My uncles talk to anyone who has money. Henry wouldnt ever invest in them, they couldnt manage a business for the life of them."

"And you? Would Henry invest in you?"

Silas nodded. "He's tried. I wasnt interested." He cut you off before you could even suggest the idea. "And I'm still not interested. But I'll get you close to him."

"Thank you." You settled back in your seat before remembering another request. "Silas?"

"What now?"

"Can I have some money?"

"Here's a pound-" You glared at him, making him sigh. "How much?"

"Mmhm, oh I dont know... just enough to buy a small house-"

"And why do you need a house?"

You looked at him dumbfounded. "Well, when our marriage goes to the sewers, I would like to have a roof over my head."

"And what if I say I dont intend on ending this marriage?" Your blood ran cold at his words.

"What?"

Silas tilted his head at you before chuckling. "Why have you turned pale? If anyone should be horrified at the prospect of staying married in this mismatch, completely unbalanced relationship, it should be me. Struck down, caught out of the lake in his prime, of both beauty and brain-"

"Oh God, please stop talking before blood starts pouring out of my ears."

"So you agree your voice is irritating enough to do that?" Silas remarked smirking.

"Shut up." You flared your nostrils at him. Why does he have to ruin my mood this early in the day?

He chuckled victoriously, looking out the window. "I'll get you the house. You dont need money for it." He looked at you, already knowing you'd be confused. He grinned, pointing to himself. "Duke of Westminster-" he then points at you. "Duchess of Westminster."

Of course. Now that you're married to the duke, you have a whole lot of land in your hands. You really can have a house anywhere you'd like.

The carriage stopped. "Off you go now, wife."

Entering the office, you were first greeted by Will, the man in charge on working on the White Chapel murders.

"Holmes! How did you do it?" He shook you by the shoulder gleefully. "How did you convince the boss to post my story next?!"

I married his friend. "Oh, I just... promised him an article. Once I give him that, we can work together on the murder story."

He nodded, ushering you to finish off your article first before helping him.

Making your way to your desk, you spotted Colin. "Hey, Colin-" But he walked right past you, as if he didnt hear you.

Maybe he didnt. You shrugged, sitting down at your desk as you began writing down the news about you and Silas.

"Oh, Mr Holmes has definitely written most accurately about you Y/n!" Sarah said as she read the papers at the breakfast table. "He calls you the "fairest maiden in town" and "beauty with brains"- oh, I couldnt agree more!"

You smiled, sipping your tea sheepishly while Silas rolled his eyes. Its been 3 days since you wrote an article announcing your marriage to the world, and the editor decided to post it on Sunday, when you and most of London had off from work, all tuning in to read "how the most eligible bachelor bagged the fairest maiden in town."

Sarah ate some of the dishes you'd prepared today. "These are absolutely delicious, Y/n! Silas, your wife-" A maid came in to inform her that there's someone at the door to meet her. As Sarah excused herself, you got up from your seat to serve Silas the food you'd made on Sarah's request.

Silas picked up his fork and took a bite, a smile forming on his lips.

"Have I ever told you how good of a cook you are?"

You blushed, looking down. "No-"

"Then why do you keep cooking?" He dropped his fork on the plate, pushing it aside. "Stop using my kitchen." He smirked as he drank his tea, watching rage take over your face.

"Listen you twat-"

Sarah came back rushing in, a worried look on her face. Silas immediately sat up. "What is it, nana?"

"The- there was someone here from the palace." She gulped. "They sent flowers and a letter congratulating you two on the marriage. They... they said they'd like to meet Y/n and- and welcome the new couple officially."

Silas understood Sarah's worry. The palace never writes to them. In fact, the last time they did, it was years ago when his parents had died.

Getting up from his seat, Silas wiped his face with a napkin before dropping it on the table. "Then we'll let them. We shall host the Queen."

"Si-" But he took her by the shoulders, easing Sarah's worry.

"Dont worry. This is our home, nana." We have the advantage.

Silas left to start making arrangements for hosting the queen at the estate, while Sarah ran around the house with the staff to prepare for the event that is a week from now. Seeing as you couldnt be of use there and everyone was too busy to give you any pointers on what to say or act when the queen arrives, you left the estate to explore the town. Or more specifically, return to the blown up vintage store.

Yep, you're still hoping your time machine survived.

When you arrived on Regent street, you saw the same men still guarding the store, so they probably still wouldn't have let you in. But you also saw Henry, who was leaving the store and in his carriage.

Deciding to follow him, you sneaked into the back of someone's carriage and rode it before jumping off it when it got near Henry's carriage. Fortunately, you didnt have to follow him for long as he got off on Piccadilly street soon and strolled into a place called "The Gentlemen's Club" and from the looks of the daunting bouncers standing outside, you knew you couldnt just stroll in like Henry.

You watched the people who seemed to walk into the club, mostly men, all dressed formally and looked like they were a part of the high society. You saw some women too, though most of them dressed scandalously, so you assume they were there to provide entertainment.

As the sun began setting, more and more people started entering the club and just when you were about to leave, you saw Henry walk out of the club, a frown settled on his face. You werent expecting him to leave the club so soon, not when more people had started going in there, to rave or whatever. If Henry was here for pleasure, then he came out too early. If he was here for business, then most of the club goers have just begun entering, which means that whoever he wanted to conduct business with was already in there. Someone who works at the club... maybe even owns it?

As you turned to leave, you felt someone bump into you.

"Watch where you're going!" The blonde haired woman shrieked at you before crossing the street to go to the club.

You huffed. Everyone's got a giant stick up their-

You whipped your head around, feeling someone watching you. And thats when you spot it- a shadowy figure of a man, standing in the window of the club, on the second floor. Henry? No, he left. Then...?

The shadow didnt move, staring at you until it creeped you enough to make you leave.

Silas finally sat down after working all day. Cadbury brought him his evening tea.

"How are the preparations coming along?" He asked his butler. Cadbury informed him of the arrangements he's made and the guest list he's written down that needs his approval before he sends out the invitations.

"And the seamstress will come tomorrow to make a gown for Miss Y/n-"

Silas cut him off. "No need. Send the seamstress to me first. I'll let her know what kind of clothes need to be made for the event, then she can take Y/n's measurements."

"As you wish, sir." Cadbury said, but Silas could see something troubling the young butler. They werent that apart in age, and both of them had practically grown together, each reading the other person well.

"What's the matter, Cadbury?" Silas set his teacup down.

Cadbury took a deep breath. "Its just- I dont understand why the palace is suddenly coming to visit you, after what happened at the dukedom ceremony. It was certainly... humiliating for them, so why would they be coming to welcome Miss Y/n into the family?"

Silas grinned. "They're coming to see who I replaced the princess with." He picked up his cup. "They couldnt break me down, so they're going to try their luck with the missus. There's another reason why the queen is coming, but you let me worry about that."

Cadbury looked concerned. "Then we should prepare Miss Y/n to make no mistakes."

"Dont worry, she wont." Silas smiled, making his butler even more confused. "Speaking of, did you observe her when she was cooking in the kitchen today?"

Cadbury nodded. "Yes. And as you'd said, she didnt touch, let alone cook with bacon or wine despite my insistence that its your favourite. She replaced the meats, and didnt use any alcohol at all!"

Silas chuckled, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Perfect. Just as I'd suspected." He looked at Cadbury again. "Are there any leftovers from the food she'd made?"

"Yes. I was about to throw it out-"

"No. Bring them to me. I'll eat them. If Y/n asks, tell her you fed it to the dogs and then they got violently sick." Cadbury was confused as he left to bring him the food. He thought that Silas didnt like your cooking, at least from what he'd heard him say to you.

Oh. Maybe the young duke just doesnt want to acknowledge that he enjoyed your food.

A week passed by quickly and the day of the royal dinner came. You were freaking out because Silas had barely spoken two words to you about how to act or what to say, just telling you to act as yourself and he'll take care of the rest.

"What the hell...?" You muttered, watching your reflection in the mirror. Okay, you're not a conservative, but even you knew that this plunging neckline was a little too much skin for this time period, especially in front of the queen!

You were wearing a white satin and lace gown- wedding gown, if you were being honest. All that was missing was a veil, but you guess that would be a little too much on the nose. The dress was beautiful, no doubt, but it was missing a whole lot of cloth around the neckline, the tight corset making your chest puff out slightly more with a snatched waist. Your collar bones looked prominent, but you would credit that to the bland food served in London. Seriously, why do they act like vampires when it comes to adding garlic?

"Your husband had this dress designed specifically for you, madame!" The seamstress told you as she added her finishing touches. "He must love you a lot!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you wore the jewellery he'd sent for you.

Yes. Thats why I sleep on the floor while he sleeps in his bed. Hope he suffocates under those plush sheets. My backache is the sign of our true love.

"Oh, who did that to your hair?" You heard a voice behind you and you turned around quickly.

"Benny!" You squealed, watching Ben, Liam, Shepherd and Colin enter your room. "Ah, I'm so glad you all came."

"Of course we did. There's free booze-" Shepherd smacked Liam on the back of his head. "We're here because we're happy for you."

"And because they wanted to see the queen." Colin said, rolling his eyes, making the other two bicker with him.

"How's Silas treating you? Are you happy?" Ben asked in a low tone as he fixes your hair.

Oh Ben. He reminds you so much of Qasim. "Yes, Benny. Silas is very good to me. I couldnt be happier."

Ben had a sad smile on his face as he nodded.

Just a few minutes later, Silas entered your room. "Y/n. Gentlemen." He nodded to them, before pulling you aside. "I need to talk to you."

You looked at him surprised. Silas was concerned. He was nervous about something. You've never seen him break a sweat.

"What is it, Silas?"

"The queen is onto us."

"What?"

Silas looked at you exasperated. "She knows about our sham marriage." He casted a look to the boys, who were pretending like they werent trying to hear what he was whispering to you. Silas pulled you close by your elbow to whisper. "I have a source telling me that the queen knows you... you're not a Christian. That you're a Muslim."

You pull back to look at him wide eyed. "How- how did she- how did you-?"

"I suspected, you confirmed it now. But she knows. And she's coming here tonight to expose us. If she tells everyone tonight, then she'll be able to take away my dukedom and she will make our lives hell!"

Your throat went dry. "What- what do we do?"

"There's a way." Silas grip on your arm tightened. "We get married for real."

You tilted your head in confusion before shaking your head at what he was implying. "Silas, no-"

"We get a Nikkah."

A Nikkah? If... if you get a Nikkah with him, an Islamic wedding ceremony, then you'll be married to him for real. No- no, the only reason you'd agreed to his proposal was because you knew it was a fake marriage, it didnt really affect your conscious because it was a sham! But-

"No. Silas-"

"Y/n, please." Silas pleaded. "Dont make me beg. If the queen finds out, everything I've worked so hard for, it'll be for naught. She'll take it all away. Dont you- dont you want to help catch the lunatic behind those murders? Dont you want to make a difference by writing? If you dont do this, if you dont stand by me, we'll both be done for!"

You looked at him conflicted, your resolve starting to break as he continued to talk. "My sister, my parents, my grandfather... my family... they need me, Y/n. They need me to pull this off, for me to reinstate our honour, for me to remove the stain and stigma from my family's name. Please, I'm asking you to do this for me... for my family." He swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into you with intensity. "You once told me you lost everything. I'm telling you now that I'll lose everything if we dont do this. Will you let me lose everything, Y/n?"

Lose everything? Everything?

You shake your head. "No, Silas. I... I wont let you lose everything."

10 minutes later, there was an imam in your room. Silas had somehow managed to find an imam in London to marry you two off. But you suppose when you're so rich and well connected, you can find anyone.

This is happening. This is really happening.

With Ben, Colin, Liam and Shepherd as your witnesses and Cadbury and his wife as Silas's witnesses, the imam began the Nikkah ceremony.

Am I really getting married?

You watched the imam ask Silas some questions, and you tuned them out except for one.

"Are you a Muslim?"

You looked up. A flicker of hope! Yes! If Silas isnt a Muslim, he cant marry you! The Nikkah wont happen, or at the very least wont be real because he's not Muslim! He cant marry you, this will still be a sham marriage, a paper marriage and your conscious will be clear and you wont feel like throwing up-

"Yes. I converted an hour ago." Silas informed the imam. "I took my shahada, in sound mind and state, of my own will without any pressure or coercion."

No. Oh no-

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" The imam repeated.

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" He asked again.

"I do." And with that, Silas signed the Nikkah contract. The officiant then turned to you.

"With the agreed mahr, do you take Silas to be your husband?"

"Mahr?" You whisper in a daze. The officiant looks confused. "Do you not know what your mahr is?"

Mahr is a gift to the bride given by the groom. It is a symbol of the groom's promise to care and provide for the bride. You're more surprised that Silas even knew what Mahr is.

"It must've slipped my mind to tell you." Silas looked at Cadbury, who handed him a document. "For your Mahr, I give you Westminster palace." You looked at the document, he really had signed it over to you!

"Silas..." You say in disbelief, your hands trembling a bit. He smiled reassuringly at you. "You wanted a house. Here's one."

House? He gave me a palace!

"Do you take Silas to be your husband?" The imam asked you. You stared at Silas, at his content face. He didnt have to sign over a whole palace to you, much less one which he'd just gotten from the queen!

And he looked perfectly content with his decision. Not a shadow of doubt. He... he trusts you? Trusts that you'll maintain this union? Wont run out on him- wont betray him?

"I do."

Does he believe that this marriage will last?

"I do."

Does he trust you?

"I do."

You signed the papers, your eyes still in a daze as Silas smiles charmingly at you before pulling you close to hug you. You hear everyone clap around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you."

Silas escorted you to the dining room where all the guests were waiting. You were still quiet and in a trance as you walked by him, with your hand around his arm.

He's surprised it didnt make you suspicious with how quickly he'd found an imam. Truthfully speaking, Silas knew you were a Muslim when he first proposed to you. He had his doubts, which were confirmed by his observations especially with your aversion to foods that were forbidden for Muslims. And yes, the queen had also found out about you being a Muslim, but only because he spread the rumour to them.

The Nikkah documents, the ceremony, the Mahr, he had already planned it the moment he found out that the queen was coming over. And the reason why he waited until the last minute to spring this out on you was so that you would be pressured into saying yes. He just couldnt risk you taking time to think this through.

You may still be under the impression that Silas chose you because it was circumstantial or whatever, but he chose you to be his wife precisely because you were a Muslim. Oh he has plans to use you.

You're everything the English monarchy hates, what it stands for. You're not prim and proper, despite your best attempts. You work, that too disguised as a man, and you're far too strong willed and determined to prove yourself unlike the British high society women.

He knows the crown wont be happy to have Muslim bride in the family, much less a Muslim duke who just so happily signed off Westminster palace to his wife.

A Cheshire grin graced his lips, which people mistook for glee for being with his blushing bride. He's going to have fun ruffling the queen's feathers. He's going to tilt the palace upside down.

Curtsying to the queen, Silas immediately noticed and took great pleasure in the queen's displeasure at your dress. Yes, he specifically chose a wedding gown that showed too much skin for the conservative monarch.

"Your majesty, this is Y/n, my sweetheart." Silas introduced you so lovingly, you couldnt help but be flustered as you avert your eyes to the ground.

"Its an honour to meet you, your majesty." You manage to say without throwing up.

Victoria casted one unamused look to you. "Very interesting choice for clothing."

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. She hates it. I knew it-

Silas's hand gently grasped yours. "Thank you, your majesty. I chose it for her after being inspired by a painting my love gifted me. Ah, let me show it to you."

You already knew it was the stupid portrait he was talking about, and you wanted to hide away into a corner as you saw the disapproval on the queen's face- God, she doesnt mask any emotion, does she?

The queen turned to Silas. "I have heard a rumour and I would like you to address it now." She said, glancing at you.

Silas nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Why dont you go and help nana with the guests? I'll be right with you."

Sarah was introducing to the guests, but your head was preoccupied with Silas and the queen. They are definitely talking about me-

"Y/n, this is Mr Blackwood." You stared at the familiar face. "Oh please, Sarah. No need to be formal with me." He smiled charmingly. "Besides, miss Y/n and I have met before."

"Well, thats wonderful! You two talk- I have to find my troublesome grandsons before they embarrass me!" Sarah left you with Henry.

"Congratulations on your wedding." He said with exaggerated joy, though his eyes expressed anything but that. "I'm sure he offered you a lot of money for putting up a show. I just wish you'd told me about it before."

"Excuse me?" You frowned. "I'm not putting up a show."

He raised a brow. "Really? You expect me to believe that a FitzGeorge wants to marry you? Out of the blue?" He throws a look to your gown. "That this wedding dress wasnt him trying to just convince the world that you're his wife?"

Your jaw ticked. "You're right. This dress is Silas's way telling everyone we're married. Because we were married on paper before, but I have an imam, 4 witnesses and a Nikkah document stating that Silas and I are married, both in the eyes of the law and God." You watched Henry's face fall. What use was it lying when he already heard of the rumours. Rolling your eyes, you turned to leave, only for him to reach out and grab your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked you, looking for any signs of you lying. He didnt find any. "You know you dont belong with him-"

"Oh? I dont?" You snapped. "Who do I belong with? No, go on. Tell me."

He pulled you close, looking into your eyes. "Me. You belong to me. You know it, you felt it- we have something. We have-" He lowered his voice. "I can give you everything you want. Whatever you'd lost in my shop, I'll find it again. I'll travel the world for it, just- come to me. Leave Silas."

"That is the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of a man's mouth." You yanked your hand out of his grasp, walking away from him. The next time you saw him, he was busy talking with Victoria's heir- Prince Edward VII.

"Sweetheart, there you are!" Silas grabbed you, pulling you along. "I was just telling her majesty about how we met. You remember, love?" He shot you a knowing look.

You nodded, remembering what you two had practised. "Yes. We met at the ballet theatre near Oxford. It was love at first sight-"

"Ballet theatre?" Victoria's voice was sharp. Your heart dropped as you tried to follow up on your lie. See, this is why you two should've discussed this because its hard to lie on the spot!

"She's an amazing ballerina! Ah! I was immediately charmed by her art! She bewitched me!" Silas said cheekily and you wanted to smack him for saying "bewitched" because this is still Victorian era and sure, they dont have witch trials anymore, but why would he risk even the accusation when it is literally the queen's ancestors who had a major part in burning up "witches" in the 1600s!

Look, people back then were dumb and evil, which is a really bad combination.

"Is she now?" Victoria looked at you now, with those piercing eyes. "I would love to attend a show of yours. See what these FitzGeorges fancy so much."

Oh she knows. You can see it, hear it in her monotonous voice that she knows Silas is lying.

And yet this dumbass continues to lie. "Of course! We'll host you for... Christmas eve?"

As Victoria left, you glared at Silas. "Why would you say that?! I'm not a ballerina and you invited her to watch me dance? Do you want to get caught?!"

Silas tutted at you. "You worry too much. Its not that hard, you know. Besides, you have my grandmother to teach you. Ah yes, nana will love it-"

"Silas!" You stopped him. "I cant learn ballet in a month!"

"Not with that attitude-"

"We will get caught. You will be caught, and I will be embarrassed and- and- I wont let anyone make a fool out of me, Silas!" He pulled you into his chest, shushing you.

"I wont let anyone make a fool out of you either, Y/n." He pulled your head back to look at you with those deceptively charming eyes. "You carry my name next to yours now. You're my wife now, and by association, your dignity is my dignity now. I wont let anyone make a mockery of us, Y/n."

You looked up at him and you believed him. How could you not, when lying comes so easily to Silas?

He watched Sarah console you, promising to help you learn. Silas his his smile as he picked up his glass, enjoying his plan falling into place.

Ah, it would be a pity to see your heart break when the entire theatre laughs at you.

Thoughts????

#time traveller au #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere male #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #soft yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #silas my oc

780 notes · View notes

kurikive · 4 months ago

Text

sticky | kim minji

things between you and minji are... sticky this summer.

— childhood friends to lovers, summer trip, soccer player!reader, slowish burn, lowkey bromance, futchish READER 💜

contains : cursing, kinda slight makeoutism, a lot of bro and dude, just a little bit of angst but i promise its literally nothing, NOT proofread at all i am tireeeddd

wc: 13.7k words

inspired by : Sticky — KISS OF LIFE

You're not really sure how you got here.

You’re watching the sunset at the beach with Kim Minji, your hand in between hers and the sand below you, your face two inches from her own, your lips two seconds away from colliding.

Actually, let's rewind.

It’s summer! It's been 3 long years of being away in Seoul. A soccer scholarship was always great, and you were having a fantastic time with your teammates and classmates, but you were completely burnt out after these exhausting last 6 months.

Korea University Anam Tigers proudly win 3rd place in the U-League for the first half of the season. 5 wins, 2 draws, 3 losses. Not too bad. You did better last year, but you're sure you'll recover and bounce back during the second half. Or maybe it was the alcohol and smell of grilled beef that was making you emotional.

After you finalize your amazing speech with a broken voice and a tear threatening to leave your eye, you realize you're actually quite drunk. The applause of your teammates startles you, and they may be mocking your sentimental state with their laughs and ‘aww’s and teasing pushes, but they cheer you on anyway.

“Han Y/N!” One of your teammates, Hsu Nientsu, also pretty tipsy, nudges your left arm as you sit back down, “Don't get so sensitive with us now!”

“Our Y/Nie gets emotional when drunk, huh?” Central striker Ahn Yujin, leader of the team, pinches one of your red cheeks from across the table, action to which you groan at.

“I just…” You sigh, drowsy and teary eyes block your vision yet you can still tell all your teammates are looking at you. “I really love our team and want us to do our best…” You make a mental note to never get drunk with your team again when they coo at you for a second time.

“Well then,” Oh Haewon starts pouring you another shot (she usually would make you pour it yourself, but your flimsy arms and hung head bring out the instinct to take care of you instead), “Let's climb up the leaderboard for Leftie!” She declares as she leaves the small glass of soju on your side of the table.

You hate the nickname. Nientsu came up with it the first year of your scholarship because when you were supposed to be in central midfield you spent most of your time on the left side of the field, for some reason. Her broken Korean and teasing nature muttered the name in an attempt to mock you and everyone started repeating after. You can't complain much about it. It stuck too well.

You take the shot and grimace at the bitter taste of alcohol. You're still not used to it even after countless team dinners.

Won Haneul, your roommate, best friend and goalkeeper, laughs at your expression. The other girls have already picked up their own conversation, yet she seems very entertained at your drunken state, “Unnie, are you sure you don't want to go?” You've told her multiple times to drop the formalities, it's a one year difference; she keeps refusing.

You look to your right and you (hardly) see her looking at you worried, but still smiling. It takes a couple seconds for you to process her words. “I… I think I should go.” You slur, you're sure you'll die if you take another shot.

Haneul nods, understanding as always. “Guys, I think me and Y/N unnie are gonna head back now!” You hear your teammates complain and whine but you can't make out anything they're saying.

“I'm too drunk!” You try your best to scold them, “And I have my last class tomorrow…”

A soccer scholarship didn't mean you were just in Seoul to play soccer and get drunk with your friends. You also had to study and attend classes, like everyone else. Maybe you would've had it easier if you had chosen Physical Education as your major. But no, you had chosen Media and Communication for some reason.

At least it was the last class before break.

“Go then! Quick! Get away!” You hear Jung Sunhye drunkenly shoo you two away. It makes you giggle. You wave goodbye to your teammates with your frail arms, it makes you look like a car rental inflatable. You hear a chorus of ‘sleep well’s and ‘Bye Y/N’s.

Haneul holds you as you walk out of the BBQ place, and then a cold wave of air hits you right when you realize you have to go up the hill to get to your dorm. You don't know if the chill you get in your spine is from the cool late night air or the dread of borderline hiking while drunk.

“Haneul, I'm sorry.” You don't even want to look at her in fear of getting dizzy. You're only a few steps up the hill but you're already breathing a little heavy. However, your apologetic expression is enough for her to understand your feelings.

“It's okay, unnie!” She's such a joy to have around not only as a teammate but as a friend. You hope her kindness never leads her to getting taken advantage of. You and the other girls would ruin the life of whoever could even dare.

“I'm really grateful for you, y’know?” You probably shouldn't talk while you're rapidly growing out of breath, but you're already sentimental.

“I'm flattered.” She says with a light laugh while pushing you from behind, making it easier for you to walk upwards.

“Are you going back to Suwon this summer?” You ask after a while of more heavy steps. Haneul had also gotten a scholarship and moved from Suwon to Seoul, therefore getting to be roommates with you.

“Mhm! Gonna go see my parents.” Her voice turns a little softer and you notice even when you're mostly out of your conscious mind. “What about you, unnie? Are you gonna stay here?”

It's been three years since you left your hometown and replaced the ocean with the river. Three years since you left your friends behind. Three years since leaving your mom and dad.

Of course you missed them. How could you not? It's not like you were avoiding them, the last summers were just filled to the brim with practice and studying and everything got tangled and you didn't even leave time for yourself.

That's over, though. You can already see yourself on the shore.

And then you're at the bus terminal. Hands shaky and heavy steps, just like the ones you took walking up the hill of your dorm building. You carry your backpack at your front and hold your gym bag on your left hand. You wait in line to step inside your bus and you think you're ready to fall asleep for the whole ride.

But once you're settled in your seat, your thoughts leave you restless.

There's a fear in the back of your mind that your friends will treat you differently when you arrive.

You've been gone for 3 years, and you talk slightly less now. But the group chat is still active, and you talk with them when you're allowed the time to. It's not like you've gone completely radio silent and disappeared from their lives.

It's just scary to be back.

But the scariest thing by far is the fear of being proven wrong. The fear of still liking her.

See, ever since you were a kid running around with a ball between your feet, you've had a crush on Kim Minji.

Neighborhood pretty girl. Class president in elementary, middle and high school. Best grades in your year. The most crushable girl ever.

You remember the first day you met her. You actually think about it a lot.

You were 7, playing soccer with your friend Gyuvin on the beach at sunset hours. There was no real goal to kick the ball towards, you were just trying to steal the ball from each other and keep it as long as possible. But then Gyuvin gets a little too close to taking the ball, and in panic you pass it to your right.

But there's no one to your right. And you realize you've just kicked it towards three girls about your same age building a sandcastle.

You see the ball roll away further and further away from you and Gyuvin, and closer and closer to the castle, and the girls don't seem to notice.

You don't know why you're frozen. You could've stopped the ball by now if you had run after it. Gyuvin notices your lack of movement and becomes the one who shouts instead, “BALL!”

It seems to wake both the girls and you up from your daze, and suddenly you're running as fast as you can to catch the ball before it collides with the sand clump. And you manage to catch it.

You had thrown yourself into the sand, and the ball gets stopped by your arms. But your head crashes into the sandcastle instead. It doesn't collapse completely, and it didn't hurt that much, but it suddenly knocked you out for a few seconds.

You hear Gyuvin’s voice behind you when your mind is back in its place. “We're really sorry! We'll help you patch it back up!” You shake of the sand from your head when you sit back up, and you can finally take a good look at the three girls.

They looked pissed.

The smallest of the girls speaks, “I guess you can help. You're lucky it didn't fall on your head.” She points at you and you feel guilt engulf your cheeks with its warmth.

“Great!” Your friend helps you shake off some of the remaining sand off of your head, “Let's get to work, Y/N!”

You're confused at his enthusiasm, you were just playing soccer with him a few seconds ago and now he wants to build a sandcastle with some girls you just met? “But… we were-”

Gyuvin cuts you off, “It's the least we can do. We almost destroyed it.” It makes sense, but you're still a little reluctant. You grab a shovel anyways.

Your friend is already introducing himself when you start digging a hole into the sand, “I'm Kim Gyuvin! What are your names?”

The short girl with short hair that spoke to you before is the first one to answer, “I'm Hanni Pham! I'm from Australia but we moved here a year ago.”

“Your parents like fish, huh?” The boy's joke makes Hanni's mouth open wide and her eyes dilate a good amount.

“How did you know?!”

“I'm Seol Yoona.” Says a girl with a voice so quiet you have to ask Gyuvin what her name was right after she said it, “What did she say?”

“Seol Yoona.” He repeats, and you get back to digging with a nod, not before you give an apologetic smile to the girl.

The last girl introduces herself, “I'm Kim Minji.” You notice three things about her. Her voice is deeper than the other two girls, her eyebrows are really pretty, and she's wearing a blue clip on her hair.

All three of the girls are pretty, but if Gyuvin asks you later who you thought was the prettiest you are sure you'll say Minji.

Said girl notices you've been doing nothing but dig since you started introducing yourselves. “What's the hole for?” She says.

“I'm gonna put water in it to make wet sand. It's going to make it easier to build and harder to collapse.” And right after you say that you stand up, bucket in hand, ready to go and fetch water from the shining ocean behind you.

But just as you're about to go, the girl with the pretty eyebrows calls out again, “What's your name? You never told us.” Right.

“Han Y/N.” You tell her with a smile.

“Han Y/N.” She repeats your name back to you, like you're not supposed to know it already. It sounds pretty coming from her.

The sunset glow crashes in the sea and bounces back into the eyes of the girl. You see them glisten as she looks into yours. Your heart starts beating as fast as it was when you were running around earlier.

“Don’t ever play soccer near my sandcastles.”

You look like an idiot, laughing by yourself in your seat. It's already night when you feel the bus stop in its tracks. You realize it's slightly warmer than when you departed, even at these hours of the night.

You're here. And you're not laughing anymore.

Everything you dread is getting closer by the second, and you don't want to face it.

It's been three years since the last time you saw your friends, since you saw Minji. Three years of only speaking to her in the group chat. Three years of believing you've gotten over her when in reality you were just getting distracted.

Because if you had truly moved on you wouldn't be worrying about moving on.

You step out of your bus and smell the scent of the ocean. Your worries fade away for the rest of the night. You'll worry about that tomorrow.

You're home.

It’s around 10:30 P.M. Knowing your parents they wouldn’t be asleep right now. They’re probably watching replays of soccer matches or some strange animal documentary. Even after three years you can tread lightly towards your home. Not much has changed.

The street lights are dim, and the wooden floor boards of the port are not much louder than the last time they squeaked beneath your feet. You take a picture of the moon watching over the dancing waves, then keep walking.

You wish you don’t run into any of your friends on the way to your house. It’s not like you don’t want to see them, but it’s late, and you couldn’t catch even a wink of sleep the whole ride. You just want to see your parents and sleep in between the warmth of their bodies like you did when you were just a kid. You chuckle at the memory.

You step into your neighborhood. Most of the lights are turned off, but you can hear a couple of things as you walk deeper into the block. Crickets, waves, and a couple different TV stations.

You get closer to the neighboring house from yours. Gyuvin’s house. The lights in the first floor are off, but there’s a dim light coming from the window of the bedroom facing the street. It (probably still) belonged to Gyuvin himself. You don’t really know what he’s doing at this hour of the night, but you won’t bother him right now, even when you get the urge to text him something like ‘look out ur window’.

You hear the voice of a commentator from outside the door of your house. They were watching replays. Knew it. You think about what to do next. It’ll be too loud if you ring the doorbell, Gyuvin might notice you’re here and come around to investigate, And then you get a sudden, bright idea.

You set your gym bag on the ground and start typing your mom’s number to call her, clicking on her contact when it shows up. You take a big breath and wait for her to answer, it doesn’t take her long.

“Hello, baby! What’s going on?” There’s a twinge of worry in her voice but she always answers so happily when you call her. You chuckle deviously, mischief is about to begin.

“Hi mama! I sent you guys a surprise, I’m calling to make sure if the package arrived safely. Sorry about the time, by the way.” You try to mask the smile appearing on your lips as you talk.

“A package?” She seems confused, “I.. We didn’t get anything.” She sounds a little more concerned.

“Really? Can you check the door? Maybe it came late.”

“I don’t think it’d come this late, darling.”

“Just check, ma. Please.” You hang up. You feel a little sorry for leaving your mother bothered and confused, but you try to telepathically tell her it’ll be worth it.

Your heartbeat starts picking up its pace when you hear the door unlock. You put your phone in your pocket and pick your bag up again.

When the door opens, the first thing you notice is your mom’s disheveled hair, probably from laying on the couch and watching TV. The second thing you notice is that her eyes immediately fall on the doorstep, and she frowns when she finds nothing. The third thing you notice is that, even before she realizes you’re there, she’s already taking out her phone to call you again, but she sees a pair of shoes in front of her before she gets around to doing that.

Her eyes travel from your old sneakers to the top of your head, and then they fall back at your face. Her jaw drops and her eyes look like they hold the moonlight in them when she realizes it’s actually you.

“Y/Nie…” She’s a little breathless when she says your name, and you laugh at the sound of rustling behind her. Your dad probably heard her.

“Hello!” You simply greet. Your father appears shortly behind your mother and you send a wave at him when you see he’s making the exact same expression as her. “Am I going to be outside all night? That’s how you greet your daughter?”

Your mother throws herself at you with a hearty laugh, it makes you happy too. “When did you get here?!” She asks, a little too loud for your liking, but you won’t complain. You pull away to greet your dad, who was frozen on the doorframe.

“Just now, actually.” Your father is in shock, but he does his best to hug you back, and the hug gets tighter when he finally understands it’s really his daughter. You giggle a little at his lack of words, then tap his back a little rougher when you start struggling to breathe, “Hey! Not so tight!”

He lets go and you hear him laugh more calmly now. “Let’s go in. Gyuvin doesn’t know I’m here yet and I want to surprise him tomorrow.” Your mom closes the door behind you, and then hits you on the back, quite roughly for your taste.

“How dare you not tell us you were coming?!” She rubs the same spot where she hit you when she hears you hiss at the pain, “It was a surprise!” You argue.

“Did you have dinner?” Your dad asks already in the kitchen, and your stomach growls even before you can respond. You giggle shyly at the noise, “I’ll take that as a no.” He says, “Go sit with your mom and watch TV with her. I’ll heat up something.”

“Oh, we’re not watching anything. You’re gonna tell me everything you’ve been doing.” Your mother taps the seat beside her on the couch, which you gladly take. “How was the season?”

You’re so happy to be back.

You wake up with the sunrise.

You fully expected to open your eyes and be hugging your mom while your dad was already up in the kitchen. And that did happen, except you wake up with your back sore from falling asleep on the couch. Your dad is in the kitchen, making breakfast for you three.

You rub your eyes and yawn. It wasn’t that late, you woke up pretty early actually. 8:27 A.M. Maybe it’s because your body is used to waking up early. Your dad looks back at you and laughs at your messy hair, smiles brighter when he sees one of your mom’s arms sticking out of the couch. “Rise and shine!” He says brightly.

“Morning…” The sound of your croaky voice seems to wake up your mom, as she’s already rubbing her face.

“Smells good.” She says in the same tone as you. “Is it almost done?”

“I just finished. Come take a seat.” Your dad turns off the gas from the stove. The scent of kimchi jjigae fills your home, and it makes you feel a lot more energized even before having a taste of it.

You run your hand through your hair to try and make it more presentable. Your mother goes up to your dad to ask for a taste, he waits for her approval. You start setting the cutlery and it makes you think of the mornings before school, but rather than getting sentimental, you enjoy the moment with a smile.

“Y/Nie, do you want apple juice?” Your mom asks with the fridge open, you just nod as you sit down.

When the three of you sit down to finally eat, you start to realize how much you actually missed this. You spent your mornings in Seoul either eating a quick and not-really-filling meal, or eating an energy bar and a vending machine kimbap with your teammates before practice. You don’t remember the last time you had a hearty breakfast.

The sound of laughter and birds chirping combined with the smell of a home cooked meal and the warmth of a seaside morning couldn’t compare to any of the emotions that crossed your heart whenever you won a match.

Your mom and dad gossip to you about your neighbors and everything you missed while you were away.

You don’t find it hard to believe when they tell you that the weird old man that used to drink his nights away at the port got arrested. One of your neighbors' sons dropped out of college to be a model, Kim Sunoo apparently. Good for him, you always thought he had a pretty face.

Supposedly, Minji keeps her title as the number 1 student even in college. You’re not surprised, but you do feel full all of a sudden. There’s just a little bit of stew left when you groan, “Ah… I’m full…”

Your mom raises an eyebrow, “Already?” She looks at your bowl and laughs, “Nevermind, you finished pretty fast.”

“Do you eat well in Seoul?” Your dad asks. You feel a little flustered at the question and stutter when you answer, “I mean… not in the morning, but I eat pretty healthily the rest of the day. Me and Haneul prepare meals when we have afternoon practice. I’d say we’re pretty good cooks.”

Your parents laugh, “I guess we’ll put you to the test one day.” Your mom nudges you, “And it’s ‘Haneul and I’, by the way.”

The correction makes your eyes roll as you stand up to wash your dishes, “Yeah, yeah, grammar queen. I’m gonna go take a shower and go to Gyuvin’s to surprise him, ‘kay?”

“Aye aye, captain!” Either your parents planned to do the same move and say the same thing at the same time beforehand, or they’re literal soulmates.

You get out of the shower and choose a simple outfit- some baggy, ripped jeans and a graphic tee that you found in your closet (you asked your mom if it was clean enough for you to wear, considering the closet looked a little dusty; she said it was fine). The shirt felt a little tight around the arms and it was quite smaller than you expected, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. If anything it made the outfit more interesting.

So you stand outside your friend's house, with nothing in your hands but a smile on your face. You’re not really sure if it’ll be him or his mom answering the door, but you hope either of them will be happy to see you.

You ring the doorbell, and immediately hear footsteps get closer from inside. You don’t know if your heart is going to race everytime this happens, but you just hope you get used to the feeling. The door opens and you're met with a familiar face, Ms. Kim, Gyuvin’s mom, dressed up and ready to go to work. It’s summer, though?

“Y/Nie?” She looks delighted to see you, and yet quite surprised. “You came back!”

You give her a bright smile after you bow in respect, “Good morning, Ms. Kim! How have you been?”

She steps back in a manner to invite you inside, “Oh, I’ve been well, dear. Gyuvin told me you weren’t able to visit these past years. We all missed you very much.” Her words surprise you, and you feel a little guilt squeezing your heart for two seconds.

“I’m glad to hear that, Ms.” She walks around the kitchen, packing what seems to be a lunchbox into her bag, yet still giving you her full attention. “Are you heading to work?” You ask curiously.

“Oh, yeah.” She looks a little agitated, “They don’t give me breaks, baby. I work for the news now!”

“Oh! How has that been going?”

She stops in her tracks, “Honestly, quite great.” She says, and you both laugh together. “Does Gyuvin know you’re here? I imagine he’s who you came to see.”

“He doesn’t.” The woman looks quite surprised. “I wanted to surprise him. I arrived just yesterday.”

“Oh honey, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.” She laughs and you chuckle, “I hope not!” You say,

“He’s in his room. He’s probably still asleep, but he’ll wake up if you knock hard enough. Make sure he doesn’t think you’re me, then he won’t get up.” The woman unlocks the door, coat hanging from her arm and bag over her shoulder, when she sees you nod. “I heard you won third place this half, right?”

“That’s right, ma’am.” You proudly say.

“Go Tigers!” Is the last thing she says before she walks out of the door. What a charming woman. You smile at yourself before walking up the stairs to your friend’s room.

Knock knock. No answer.

Knock knock knock. A groan.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. A louder groan.

“Kim Gyuvin, I will bust your door down.” You yell, “You think my legs haven’t gotten stronger?”

Fast stomps and the sound of a clutter of objects falling on the ground startle you slightly. The door opens so roughly you wonder if Gyuvin himself has also gotten stronger.

“Y/N?!”

“What fell on the ground?” You chuckle. He hugs you, possibly tighter than your dad. You didn’t quite expect it, but you welcome it anyway.

He pulls away like he’s checking if you’re not a hologram. You laugh the hardest when he pokes your cheek. He looks relieved, then mad. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! When did you get here?!”

“I got here yesterday. You were still awake, I think. But I wanted to greet you properly, and I was really tired last night.” You explain with a little bit of remorse.

“Dude!” He hugs you once again, “Bro, I can’t believe you're back!” You hug him just as tightly. “I’m really happy I’m here.”

He pushes you lightly with a smirk, “Don’t get sappy on me.” He teases, “Congrats on third place, tiger.” You cringe at the nickname and push him back.

“Eww!” You both laugh, and you notice the bundle of things he has on the floor of his room, “You dropped all that?”

Gyuvin looks back, and pushes you out of his room, closing the door in shame. Unbelievable.

You hear him pick up the things and put them back in place, until he finally opens the door again. You’re right where he left you. “Get dressed. Your mom made you breakfast.”

“Wait, help me pick an outfit!” You’ve been here for less than a day and he’s already being annoying. Like always.

“Bro, I’m wearing a shirt that’s too small for me, I am not the one to ask for fashion help.”

“That’s your fault for getting swole!” You hear him yell while you go down the stairs. Maybe nothing's really changed.

You’re back at the kitchen. You look at the lonely plate at the table, it doesn’t look very appetizing. It’s not like it’s a bad meal, it’s an omelet and toast, but when you touch it it’s abnormally cold. Fuck you Gyuvin. He was probably supposed to wake up a while ago.

You take the plate and place it in the microwave, one minute should be fine. You open the fridge and snoop around to see if they still- yup, they still have a box of the triangle juice boxes you and Gyuvin always shared at school. Apple was your favorite. You’re sure he or his mom won’t mind you taking one while you wait for the food to heat up.

You take the little plastic straw attached to the juice box and stab it into the designated hole. Just as you close the fridge, you hear the shutter sound effect from a phone. You turn around and see Gyuvin already dressed up and smiling at his phone.

“Did you take a picture of me?” You ask. The microwave beeps, “That’s your food.”

“Check the group chat.” He says as he walks past you to the microwave. You take out your phone and rest your elbows on the counter when you open up the group chat. Gyuvin named it “Beach boys”, even when he himself was the only male.

You’re immediately met with a picture of you from your side, stabbing a hole into your apple juice box. You looked at yourself in the mirror this morning, but you only realize how tight the sleeves of your shirt look when you stare at the photo. “Damn…” You mutter

“Ow! Ow! Hot!” Gyuvin yelps as he walks beside you, plate in his hands. He sits down at the table while you scroll back up to check the other messages.

gyuv | 9:44 A.M.

guys Y/N got so swole its actually insane

sully | 9:44 A.M.

Well yeah shes an athlete what were u expecting

henny | 9:44 A.M.

did she post something on ig?

where is this coming from

minj | 9:44 A.M.

Good morning first of all

gyuv | 9:45 A.M.

yeah but ud expect her legs to get bigger or her thighs idk

tell me why this absolute gremlin has bigger biceps than me

i feel threatened

this feels like a bro code violation

henny | 9:45 A.M.

this feels more like you just being insecure

i checked her ig and theres nothing?

sully | 9:45 A.M.

Vin are you hallucinating be honest

minj | 9:45 A.M.

Why gremlin

If anything the gremlin is hanni

henny | 9:45 A.M.

literally so out of pocket

what compelled you to say that

gyuv | 9:46 A.M.

[1 attachment]

henny | 9:46 A.M.

Gyuvin is that ur fuckign house

is that han Y/N in your fucking house.

minj | 9:46 A.M.

What the hell

You | 9:46 A.M.

hi guys!

henny | 9:47 A.M.

Han Y/N are you in gyuvins fucking house

You | 9:47 A.M.

possibly

gyuv | 9:47 A.M.

[1 attachment]

guys im shaking theres a uleague third place winner in my kitchen

im so honored

sully | 9:47 A.M.

Omg she did get swole

Hiii Y/N

gyuv | 9:47 A.M.

RIGHT

IM SAYING LIKE

U DONT EVEM USE UR ARMS IN SOCCER

henny | 9:47 A.M.

Y/N when the FUCK did u get here

im gonna start vrying omg

You | 9:48 A.M.

i got here yesterday at night

i wanted to surprise u guys but ig gyuvin got too excited

pham hanni DO NOT CRY

hi sullyyy !!

henny | 9:48 A.M.

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS

You | 9:48 A.M.

stop cursing so much omg

minj | 9:48 A.M.

This is actually crazy

How could you say nothing to us

I feel lowkey betrayed Han Y/N

You | 9:48 A.M.

IM SORRY???

so surprises are the worst thing in the world now huh

gyuvs mom was so much happier to see me than you guys fr

going back to seoul

it seems im not welcome

henny | 9:48 A.M.

Y/N actually stop playing rn

where do we meet

You | 9:49 A.M

me and gyuv will pick u guys up

were going to the soccer field

but i got money from the scholarship so we can buy stuff on the way

gyuv | 9:49 A.M.

guys just to be clear i had literally no idea she was here

she showed up at my house 20 mins ago

sully | 9:49 A.M.

Omg we can go to that antique shop thats close to our high school

henny | 9:50

literally how r u so calm abt this

minj | 9:50 A.M.

Maybe ur just abnormal

You cackle loudly at Minji's last text.

When you arrive at Yoona's house, she's already waiting for you two on her porch. She looks a little taller than when you last saw her. Her eyes light up when she sees you arrive.

“Y/N!” She runs up to you and hugs you so tightly your breath falls a little short. What's with everyone and suffocating you lately? “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Sully!” You smile at her when you pull back, and the first thing she does is poke your arm. Her jaw drops in awe at the toughness of the muscle and it makes you laugh.

Gyuvin comes up behind you both with his arms open and a silly smirk, “Where my hug at?” It's quite awful. Yoona gags and sends him a distasteful look, which quickly shuts him down

You missed this. And it’s like this - full of banter and laughs - the whole way to Hanni’s house, the three of you take turns at making fun of each other, with the brief recurring tease at your job as an athlete.

Your friends like to brag about you being a college athlete, and a good one at that, but they certainly enjoyed sitting you up on a pedestal as a joke. They talked about you like you were the main star of the national team when in reality most people had little to no idea who you were even on campus, with the exception of the Yujin fans who tried using you to get close to her.

“Y/N, I promise you, when you make it on the national team, there’s gonna be a ton of fan accounts for you.” You’re in the middle of pushing Gyuvin away and blushing at his comment, about to contradict him when you hear a voice calling you.

“Han Y/N!” You don’t even realize you were already at Hanni’s house when you look towards the sound and two girls are waiting for you at the steps of a big house.

The first thing you notice is Hanni’s hair. She cut it, a fuckass (affectionately) bob that looked exactly like the one she wore the first time you ever met her.

The second thing you notice is that Minji is right beside her, already smiling at you. She stands up from the steps she and Hanni were sitting on and shakes off the dust from her pants. She wears a simple white graphic shirt and oversized blue jeans, beige puffer jacket hanging off her arms, and she looks so much taller than how she did when she was 16.

(That’s weird, shouldn’t she have stopped growing by then?)

The third thing you notice is your heartbeat suddenly racing when her eyes and yours meet for the first time in three years.

It beats at the same pace it did when the afternoon sun hit her face when you were 7. It beats at the same pace it did when you stared at her sitting by the window in middle school. It beats at the same pace it did when she sat beside you on the bus and fell asleep with her head on your shoulder.

Nothing has changed. Nothing at all.

It hits you like a bullet through your chest, but you try your best to ignore it as Hanni runs towards you.

“You asshole!” She yells with a smile on her face, and it contaminates your lips when she hugs you. She doesn’t hug you as tightly, but it’s longer than you expected. When she finally pulls away from you you touch the short strands of hair that cover her ears.

“What happened here?” You ask, watching in awe at the striking change.

“I kind of had an existential crisis last night.” She responds shyly while caressing her trimmed locks. “Minji helped me make it look better. It did not look good when I did it. They didn’t know either!” She points at the two behind you, both of them with their jaws hanging when you look back.

“Dude, you literally look seven again.” You say. You don’t mean it in a teasing way, she genuinely looks younger, but you reconsider telling her that when she hits you in the arm. Hanni widens her eyes at the unexpected roughness, “What the hell… you did get swole.”

“Can we stop talking about that?” The topic of your arms is starting to tire you, but it’s mostly embarrassing, so you groan at the mention.

You hear Minji laugh when Hanni goes up to the other two and they immediately start touching her new hair. It makes you laugh too, but you gasp a little when you feel a hand touch your shoulder.

“Hey.” She says, her god-damned pretty eyes look at you so sweetly, and her voice is so soft, and-

“Hey!” You say before thoughts about her take up your brain and you awkwardly freeze.

She smiles right before she hugs you, and it’s surprisingly warm, but you’re sure most of it comes from your own blood rushing everywhere inside you.

Everything about her is gentle, her eyes, her voice, her embrace. It’s a complete one-eighty in contrast to the tightness of everyone else who’s put their arms around you for the past two days.

“I missed you.” She says so delicately, almost quiet, even if she says it right next to your ear. And you’re about to melt, and she has no idea, so you hug her back, a little less soft than how she does, and say “I missed you too.”

It comes out a lot more calmly than you expect it, and you internally praise yourself for not making a fool out of yourself. It’s not like you want to pull away, but you might start sweating if you don’t.

You take your arms off her back and her warmth suddenly fades away. When she looks at your face again, there’s a small grin painting her lips, “Congrats on the win.” She pokes at your shoulder and you laugh at the gesture.

“It’s only third place. I want first.”

“Oh wow!” Her amused smile makes you dizzy, “Didn’t know you were so ambitious.”

“People change, I guess.” You giggle with her. But you haven’t really changed at all.

“Well, you better get first place, tiger.” She teases and you groan even louder at the nickname as you get away from her to join your friends. Maybe getting over Minji won’t be so hard.

Getting over Minji is going to be fucking impossible. Matter of fact, you're sure it’s never gonna happen. You’re going to be 45 and still think about her, and it’s going to slowly kill you.

You stare as she holds a little cow plush in her hands, inspecting it carefully. Her round eyes shine just like the glossy buttons of the doll. You think of a believable excuse before you take your phone out of your pocket and open the camera app.

You zoom in and despise how your fingers tremble before you snap a photo of the girl, unbeknownst to her.

Gyuvin comes up behind you, his voice is quiet yet it still startles you, “What’s the pic for?”

You look at him with widened eyes and bring your hand to your chest. “Just… memories.” Truth lies within your (not quite) excuse. “I want to look back on things like this when I go back to Seoul.”

The boy narrows his eyes at you and smirks, “So sappy.” He teases, so you zoom out the camera to 0.5 and take a bad close up of his face, “Hey!” He laughs.

You get away and put your phone back in your pocket to look at more of the items in the store. Many things catch your eye, small, shiny, weird, big, you could buy it all if you had the money to.

You walk around the shop, your eyes examine all the items on the old wooden tables and your fingers lightly brush on some of the more eye-catching trinkets. You stare at the little ceramic figurines of dogs and cats and other animals and mentally consider buying the little calico cat on the far left.

There are some cute keychains with little black and white designs as you pass by. You add them to your roster too. Hanni’s voice catches your attention from a few steps away.

“Y/N! What do you think of this cardigan?” She’s in the clothing section of the store, sporting a vintage cream colored wool cardigan with little brown stripes on the sides of the sleeves. It’s a little big on her, but oversized is trendy so it’s fine.

“It’s cute!” Your eyes glance towards some of the clothes behind her, “I like that one better though.” You point at the blue-gray checkered sweater behind her and she frowns in confusion when she looks at it, “Y/N, that’s so ugly.” Guess you don’t have an eye for fashion.

“Oh well…” You sigh and keep looking for more artifacts.

As you walk around, you accidentally bump the top of your head on some of the ornaments that hang on the ceiling, the sound of multiple wind chimes emerge a little before your quiet “Ow!”, which grabs the attention of Yoona and Gyuvin.

“You okay?” The girl asks in concern, but you can hear her hold back a laugh between her teeth. Gyuvin isn’t so subtle, his laughs resonating on the walls of the shop.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure Yoona as you rub your forehead with your eyes closed, turned away in embarrassment. When your eyes open again, they land on an item that makes you freeze a little.

A small, pale blue hair clip. It looked oddly similar, if not exactly the same as the one Minji wore on the first day you met. The clip she lost on that same day while the five of you swam in the ocean together.

You remember her being so upset when she realized it wasn’t there anymore, so much she cried silently on the way back to your respective houses. She was over the sadness of losing it in less than a week, but it stuck with you after Hanni told you in a whisper that it was the first time she ever saw Minji cry.

You immediately take the clip in your hands, the first item you’re certain you will buy. Actually, you buy it in that same instant. Thankfully, none of your friends seem to notice your quiet purchase, too engrossed in their own item search.

The five of you spend around 40 minutes in total in that damn shop, and you could kind of tell the owner was getting sick of Gyuvin’s constant questions on how he acquired the items. “They’re mostly donations or things I find on trips. I don’t know anything else.” He says.

In the end, you bought a few more things apart from the hair clip. You did end up buying the little calico cat figurine, a silver necklace with a spiral pendant, a pack of stamps with really cool designs, and a love letter.

There was a cardboard box sitting on a chair in one corner of the shop with a sign that said “Old Love Letters, ₩300 Each”, and not only is it something you’ve never seen anyone sell before, but it’s also cheap. How could you not buy a chance to snoop around in unknown people’s love lives?

You put your stuff in the little tote bag Yoona had bought for you. She said the design made her think of you (it had three monochrome fish painted over it).

Now you’re making your way towards the nearest soccer field. You used to play there all the time with Gyuvin, sometimes the other girls joined, or some of the other kids in the neighborhood.

The five of you walked with you right in the middle, like you were the center of a K-pop group. It definitely made you stand out to the locals of the neighborhoods you passed through, and some of them even recognized you and went as far as to congratulate you.

Did your parents tell the entire town about your rank in the league?

“It’s like I’m walking with a celebrity.” Hanni voices just as you get back from shaking hands with one of the old men of the neighborhood. As much as you enjoy the praise and congratulations, it’s a little embarrassing to acknowledge you’re gaining a lot more fame within this town. You imagine this is how famous soccer players feel everytime they go out in public.

“Microcelebrity.” You clarify, “Aren’t you an influencer?” You recall Hanni spamming the group chat one time in the first year of high school because one of her Instagram posts had gone viral. After a while of her videos getting more and more views, she started gaining a small following and could be considered a daily-life influencer.

“Yeah, but most of my followers aren’t from here so I don’t get recognized everytime I go out.”

“To be fair, this is the first time this has happened to me. My parents probably told the whole town about this.”

“Oh, they sure did. Even my mom found out.” Minji states, to your surprise. Minji’s mother was well known for not liking any sports at all, and it’s not that she hated them, she just wasn’t interested. She didn’t even know who Messi or Ronaldo were.

“Wow… I knew they liked to gossip, but that’s… crazy.” You scratch your nape shyly. Your parents are known for finding out everything, but you didn’t know they also told everything they knew.

“She didn’t really know what anything meant but she was very happy for you.” She says with a smile.

Oh! There’s a strange giddy feeling that shows up as a smile on your face you can’t hold back. You’re not really sure what to say, but you don’t even have to worry about it, because before you realize you’re already at the field, and when the boys that are playing there take notice of your presence, all you can hear is screams.

Sounds of “Y/N Noona!”, “No way it’s Y/N!”, “You’re back?!” get closer as the match pauses and they start running towards you. Most of them are your high school classmates, some are your younger neighbors or underclassmen you played with during recess.

You get closer and they bombard you with hugs and questions, with countless reminders of how much they missed you. One of them complains about you not answering his texts, and another boy defends you by excusing your forgetfulness on being busy.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make it up to you with a match, okay?”

You end up playing for two hours straight, the first half with your friends as a team, but after a while it seemed like the only one with energy left was you. Not even Gyuvin could keep up your pace.

“No wonder she’s an athlete.” Hanni says, fanning herself under the shadow of a tree that trespassed the field enclosure. Your friends were all sitting down on the ground, watching attentively at the match you played against the boys while chatting.

It was 5v1 and you were winning 4-2.

Minji watched carefully at the way you carried yourself on the field, so graceful and yet not passive at all, a different perspective compared to how you usually are.

There's a little bit of sweat that glistens on your forehead, and after playing for such a long time you only now start to look slightly tired. “I pray everyday she makes it to the national team and gets rich.” Gyuvin says.

“Same.” Hanni answers, laying down on a blanket over the warm grass and resting her head on her bag and it makes Yoona laugh when she grumbles at the discomfort of feeling all the crystals she bought on the back of her head.

The boys score another goal at you, so you decide to get serious and start playing like you would at a normal university match. Minji stares when you run faster and slide through the opponents so easily. She kind of wonders if she could calculate your speed mentally.

Field length = 55 meters, Penalty area length = 9 meters

You were around 9.2 meters from the halfway line and traveled around 18 meters in a straight line, Minji counts 4 seconds.

18/4 = 5 m/s, 1 m/s = 3.6 km/h, 5 * 3.6 = 18 km/h

Han Y/N’s speed in that one moment was 18 km/h.

The average maximum sprint speed of La Liga athletes was 30 km/h, according to an NLM article (don’t ask Minji how she knows that; she isn’t even studying medicine).

Suddenly Minji feels the need to see you play an actual serious match.

“I don’t think you need to pray.” She says with a smirk, standing up from the ground and wiping away the bristles of grass stuck to her jeans. “She has it in the bag.”

The others notice her taking out her wallet from her pocket, “Can you buy me a Fanta?” Gyuvin makes puppy eyes at Minji, even while knowing they never work on her, or anyone for that matter.

She gives him nothing but a wave and walks away, “She’s not getting you shit, dude.” Hanni kicks Gyuvin in the back with the tip of her foot and Yoona laughs at the scene.

The grocery store is not far away at all, only a block from the field, and Minji treads lightly with her mind made up on what to buy. A bag of chips and two glasses of apple juice, and maybe a strawberry lollipop for Hanni, NOT cherry, she notes.

The owner is an older lady who used to babysit Minji’s mom. She’s seen her countless times in her life so it’s easy for her to greet her brightly. “It’s been so long, Minji!” The woman greets her, her aged features morphing into a kind smile.

It’s true, it has been a long time. She doesn’t really come here that often anymore unless she’s taking a walk out of boredom or walking the neighbors dog when she’s out of town. She used to come here all the time when you all went to play soccer, but the matches got less and less frequent after you left, mostly because the only one who actually wanted to play was Gyuvin.

Minji makes her way to the drink section of the store and lights up when she sees the chilled glasses of apple juice right where she remembers them being. She was honestly surprised you hadn’t brought a water bottle with you when you left, and maybe just water would be healthier and hydrate you better, but she’d rather make you happier with your favorite drink.

(You would’ve been happy enough even if she just brought you water.)

The glass is cold when it reaches her hand, a nice contrast from the heat of the afternoon sun. She was starting to get a little hungry so maybe instead of chips she’d get a sandwich. Maybe she’ll get two.

She excuses herself in her mind, she’s not excluding her other friends! It’s just… this day is about you, of course her focus would be you. And maybe tomorrow. And maybe the whole time you’re here. She laughs at herself while walking up to the counter. She meant it when she told you she missed you.

“That would be ₩4,200 but I’ll give to you for ₩4,000 because I missed you.” The woman beams her a warm smile and Minji can’t help but return it. She hands her 4,200 won anyways and is out the door before the woman can complain. “Bye, Mrs. Do!”

Minji walks back with a smile on her face, the wind hits and blows her hair back. Some leaves and dust get blown her way too but she doesn’t have to squint her eyes because they already do that when she smiles.

The sun isn’t as bright and the rays don’t burn her skin anymore. She hears louds screams just as she’s getting closer to the field, and when she looks through the gaps of the metal enclosure she sees Gyuvin running up to hug you while the boys you were playing with fall to the ground in defeat.

She missed your win. Minji puckers up her bottom lip and sighs, shoulders shrugging helplessly.

You hadn’t even realized she had left until you see her enter the field again, so you send her a light smile she almost doesn’t catch. She looks back to the other girls and when her eyes meet Hanni laying on the grass she realizes she forgot her strawberry lollipop. Oh well.

She sits down next to Yoona and takes her sandwich out of her bag.

“What’d you buy?”

“Just stuff. Nothing for Gyuvin.”

Yoona laughs at the comment. “The apple juice is for Y/N, right?” Minji nods as she looks at you tap the boys on the back to cheer them up, “You can have the other one if you want.”

Minji was just about to open the packaging of her sandwich when she sees you and Gyuvin walk towards her. She quickly stops her actions and takes the other cold glass from the plastic bag, struggles a little to open the lid, and just as you take your last step she holds the cold apple juice to your face, or the closest to it her arm could reach.

You’re a little taken aback, but luckily you don’t blush at her act. Instead you just smile at her, mirroring Minji’s own kind smile and take the glass from her hand. “Thanks.” You say before you take a sip.

Both of your hearts feel full, yours at the flavor of apple that fills your tastebuds and calms the thirst of running for hours, and hers at the fact she made you even just a little happy with such a small action.

You gulp down probably half the glass down and end it with a “Ah~” that makes your friends laugh. “You still do that?” Hanni sits up and rests her hands behind her on the grass.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve done that since you were a kid.” Minji says and your eyebrows raise,”Really?” All your friends nod.

“I never noticed.”

Minji goes back to her sandwich as you and Gyuvin sit down in front of the other three. You’re tired now, but you don’t wanna lay on the grass because you say it makes you itch, so you try resting your body weight on Gyuvin, to which he adamantly pushes you away, “You’re heavy, Y/N!”

“What the hell, bro. I’m literally not?” You pout at him to try and get him to surrender but he just pushes you away harder every time you try to lay your back against him.

“Go lay on Minji or something, not me.” He says as he pushes you for the last time, you hear Hanni laugh.

You look at Minji and she’s already putting away the plastic bag she had on her lap. Oh, okay, yeah, no biggie. No problem at all.

You do a great impression of acting normal and move to sit next to her. “The shadow is better on this side anyways.” You fake whine at the boy as Minji grabs your shoulder and guides you to rest your back on top of her legs.

You turn your body so that you face her and hope she can’t tell your heart starts beating faster when you notice she’s already looking down at you. It’s a beautiful scene.

Minji’s face, the green leaves of the trees behind her and the sun peeking through the gaps, the wind blowing her hair a little to the side, the way her eyes smile at the same time she does. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You answer.

Everything about this is normal! You have to close your eyes so you believe it, and you start to after a few seconds. Everything about this is normal. It feels so normal and you love it.

It’s soothing. The wind caresses your face and you lose focus on the conversation your friends were having beside you.

And then Minji starts running her fingers through your hair and you lose focus on anything that’s not her.

Your heartbeat picks up for a few seconds and then it doesn’t. And then it’s all calm again. Your eyes are closed but your mind pictures Minji so vividly, smiling at you sweetly while her eyes. Her loving eyes.

God, you hope you’re not blushing, because you can already feel yourself getting warm all over. Thankfully, the gentle breeze is there to save you when you need it.

And then there’s a moment where everything, the breeze, Minji’s hands caressing you, and the sound of playful conversation, all merge at the perfect moment and you experience a calm that feels heavenly. Almost divine, and it sends you into instant slumber.

You don’t really remember every detail of what you dream of, you just remember it being about Minji, Seoul and snow. Either way, you know it had something to do with her confessing her feelings to you after you win nationals. You remember that you froze after she kissed you, then called your name after she saw you not move.

“Y/N! Y/N!” You hear your name being called out, then your body being shaked roughly. “Y/N!” You hear loudly before you wake yourself up.

“Sorry!” You don’t know what you’re apologizing for until your body jerks away and your forehead almost hits Minji’s. “Oh, sorry.”

“You fell asleep.” She states the obvious with a giggle.

“No shit, queen.” You hear Hanni laugh loudly at your response. “How long was I out for?”

“It’s 5:25.” Yoona says behind you, only then you realize they were already packing up and it was time to go. Where? You have no idea.

“Shit. Sorry guys.” You sit back up and stretch your muscles before you can stand properly.

“My legs fell asleep, you know?” Minji announces, and when you look back at her she has a teasing smirk on her face.

“Yeah, well, maybe blame Gyuv for that.” You answer sassily, but you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

Said male goes to grab the tote bag Yoona got you and the half finished apple juice you left behind and holds the bag it to your face while you’re still stretching, “Hurry up, girl. We gotta go to the beach before sunset.” He throws the bag at you and you catch it just in time.

“Careful! I have a cat in there!”

You arrive at the beach at exactly 6:00 P.M. and as soon as you get to the sand Gyuvin is already taking his shoes and shirt off. You look at everyone, confused on the plan you never actually listened to.

“We were going to swim?”

“Do you not want to?” Hanni asks.

“I don’t know…” You look at your friends with a sorry expression. You were already worn out from the whole match, and even after you slept a whole two hours on Minji’s lap, you still felt a little tired. “I’m kinda drained guys.”

“Bro… How could you?” Minji looks at you like she’s so betrayed and you laugh at her annoying little face that’s also so pretty and cute and annoying

“Bro… I’m sorry.” You play along. Calling the love of your life “bro” is crazy.

Okay, “love of your life” is an exaggeration (it’s literally not, in every sense of the word literally).

“I’ll watch your bags and take pics!” You tried bargaining, and they look at you like you’re crazy. “Guys, please, we can come swim tomorrow. The beach is not going anywhere considering we literally live beside it.”

Then Yoona gets real close to you and whispers, “You’ll pay for this.” then takes off her shoes.

“What the hell, man.”

Gyuvin and Yoona are already running at the sea and splashing each other, they don’t actually care about you not joining. Hanni hands you her bag with a strange force and you don’t know where it came from, “Take care of my babies.” She says.

“Your… babies?”

“My crystals.”

“Oh, right. I will.”

Minji walks up to you when Hanni walks away and hands you her jacket and another bag, this time plastic, “There’s one sandwich left in there. I told Gyubin not to eat it and I didn’t think he was going to listen but he did, surprisingly.” She tells you with a smile.

“Thanks. Very thoughtful of you man.” Alright, pack it up.

Minji sends you one last smile before she leaves and your heart beats when her eyes squint too. You watch her disappear into the waves and smile. You take out your phone and take a picture of your friends all swimming and playing in the water, their silhouettes clashing with the sun that was just about to set. It’s so pretty you make it your lock screen immediately.

You take out a blanket from Hanni’s bag, the same one she was laying on in the soccer field, and spread it on the ground to sit down. You take off your sneakers before they get filled with sand and take comfort in the warmth of the sand beneath you.

You stare at your friends for a bit, a beautiful picture presented just for you. You’re so happy to be back. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble before you even get to tear up. What a way to ruin the mood.

You take the bag Minji gave you and take out the sandwich. Ham, bacon, cheese, lettuce- oh, who cares. You take a bite out of it and it tastes like home. She definitely bought it from Mrs. Do.

It eases your hunger quite well. You hear the waves crash and Minji’s laugh from far away and, what a beautiful sound. What a beautiful person. You think of Minji and think of beautiful, not just from her appearance but her soul. What a beautiful soul.

You take your last bite and your stomach feels full, but you feel a little empty and can’t pinpoint what it is. You feel like you’re forgetting something. You reach for your new bag and search for whatever it seems you're forgetting.

Oh, right, the letter. Suddenly you feel excited.

The sun starts just in time. What a way to set the mood. You take out the white envelope and notice it still has some scent remaining. It kinda smells like something Minji used to wear, jasmine and liquorice. You didn’t smell it on her today, though.

You notice the envelope doesn’t have a sender or recipient name anywhere on it, nowhere at all. Maybe they didn’t plan to send it, or they changed the envelope at the shop. Eager to know more, you rip the envelope, careful not to damage the letter itself.

You take it out and take a deep breath to prepare yourself. You’re probably a little more excited than you should be, but whatever. You’re excited to intrude on a stranger's possibly failed love confession.

Except when you unfold the page, it’s not from a stranger.

You panic and fold the letter closed just as fast as you had opened it. You must have misread, right?

You open it again and the top says “Kim Minji, 23rd of June, 2021” like it’s a diary.

It must be another Kim Minji. There are hundreds of thousands in South Korea. It could be anyone. Anyone at all. So you keep reading in hopes it’s someone who’s not the girl swimming in the sea just a few meters away from you.

Dear Y/N,

It’s not a stranger. It’s Kim Minji. Your Kim Minji. You’re reading an old love letter from Kim Minji. You bought a love letter from Kim Minji for 300 won.

Wait, why is it addressed to you?

Now, you’re more confused than shocked. Now, you have to find out. You were going to put it down and not read it to not intrude and break your own heart, but now you have to find out why on Earth the first two words are Dear Y/N written in Kim Minji’s handwriting. So you keep reading.

Dear Y/N, I hope this finds you well. If you’re reading this, I gave this to you on the 24th or maybe even earlier on a strike of confidence. I hope you’re not keeping yourself up to read this at midnight. I wanted to tell you something I’ve been keeping for a long time before you leave for Seoul. Maybe it’s a selfish thing to do, and it won’t keep you from departing, but I think it would be worse to tell you this through text and I can’t bring myself to say it to your face.

I have feelings for you. Real romantic feelings. I like you a lot.

I like possibly everything about you and it’s killing me that I’m so scared and unable to tell you. I don’t even know what I’m so afraid of, really. Probably rejection, but even if you did like me back I still have to live without you for four years. My wish of you coming to visit me will probably depend on how harsh your rejection is, but I’d still like to see you back regardless.

When you first told us you got that scholarship for Korea University, I was so happy and proud of you. In a perfect world I would have kissed you and told you how happy I was for you and maybe even gone with you. But it’s not a perfect world and I just told you “Congratulations!” and you’re leaving tomorrow, without me.

I’m not one to take pictures, if anything that’s you, but right now I wish I had an album full of photos of you, of us, because I don’t know how I’ll make it without seeing you everyday. I think I won’t, actually. I hope you consider letting me borrow the photo album full of the countless pictures you take, even if they’re not of you they might fill the void you leave in my heart.

Anything from you will suffice, I think, but just your memory is not enough.

I kinda wish you could stay, but I also know you’re going to do your best over there and I hope you fulfill your dream of being a professional player. When you said you were going to choose to study mass communication I thought “that must mean she’s going to communicate with us a lot!” I hope it does. I hope you don’t miss us too much, but I do hope you miss me a little bit more.

I’ve never written a love letter before, if you could even call this that, so excuse me if this is not a good one, I’m sorry. I should probably state what I like most about you, but I don’t even know where to begin.

I love the way you’re driven to do your best even at the smallest of things. When we first met, you built us the best sand castle I had ever seen in my short life of seven years. The sandcastle was still standing when we went to visit it the next day.

You do your best at school, even when it gets hard for you, and I love that you’re not afraid to ask for help when you really need it. I kind of envy that if I’m honest. I hope you become the best student in your major.

I remember the time we babysat Ms.Yoon’s daughter and you were the only one who knew how to change her diapers and at what time to feed her. I also love how good you are with kids and sometimes it makes me think of very inappropriate thoughts of building a family together, but I won’t get into that because I don’t want to be weirder than I’m already being right now.

I love the way you always try your best to make me smile when I’m upset or stressed and even just the thought of you going out of your way to care is enough for my heart to melt. When I got sick in middle school while my mom was out of town you came to my house every day and made me chicken soup. I think that was the day I started thinking of you as more than just a friend.

I love the way you look when you put your hair up in a ponytail. I used to stare at you the entire time we watched you play during recess in middle school.

I love the way you’re clumsy and you’re never embarrassed about it. You always get up when you fall and you don’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when you scrape your knees. And I love the way you still try to smile when I’m patching up your wounds.

I love the way you always want the best for us and encourage us to be ambitious. I wouldn’t be on top of my class if it weren’t for you.

I love the way you like cats and they like you back. They always hiss at me unless you’re around. Maybe it’s a sign that we should be together all the time.

I love the way you say Ah~ when you finish drinking water after playing soccer.

I love (you) the way you love apple juice. I hope you feel the same. – Kim Minji

P.s. if you don’t i also understand and you’re free to do whatever you want with this letter.

You have no idea at what point you started to tear up, but you only realize when a tear falls from your eye into the paper and blurs the ink in the last “Minji”.

You don’t even process anything around you at that point. All you can think about is that Minji liked you 3 years ago and never told you and now you don’t even know if she still likes you.

No matter how much you think about it, you would’ve absolutely given her your photo album, if only the letter had actually gotten to you when it was supposed to.

“I saw you open the letter from over there, I came here to be nosy.” You can’t tell anything she says because you’re so entranced but you can tell it’s Minji’s voice. You freeze when she sits beside you.

“Is it any good?” She asks before realizing you’re completely paralyzed. “Hey, are you crying?” She touches your shoulder in concern, and it wakes you up a little bit, but the only thing you can do is hand her the letter.

She stares at you for a few seconds before she finally takes the page and mutters, “Oh.”

You don’t really want to look at her, and you don’t know what comes over you that makes you turn your head anyways. The red sun rays hit her face in a way that makes her tan skin glow. Her hair is damp and her shirt is stuck to her body but you don’t dare to look.

She’s clearly just as shocked as you are to see the object in her hands. And she still looks so beautiful. “Y/N, I-” You wipe your tears and sniff before she turns and see them in your eyes.

“Was this the one you bought?” You nod, and she looks back at it with her mouth hung low. “I… was wondering where this went. I thought I lost it.”

“You didn’t send it? At all?” Minji shakes her head. Wow, this is so great. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was supposed to give it to you before you left. I was hoping it would make you stay, but then I thought I was being too selfish and… just didn’t.” There’s clearly some regret still left in her face and the wind starts to blow. You hand her the jacket you put down next to your friends’ bags. “Thanks.” She says as she puts it on. You turn away to look at the sunset and gather your thoughts.

There’s no expression on your face for Minji to read, and for some reason she starts getting worried. “Y/N… I- It’s been three years, you don’t have to worry about-”

“Do you still?” You ask while looking away at the sea.

Minji stays quiet.

“Do you?”

She still keeps quiet. You turn to face her.

“Please tell me the truth, Minji.”

There’s something about how the sun makes your eyes glow and how you say her name that sabotages Minji at not giving in.

“Yes.” She speaks out with a sigh, “I do. I still do.”

You don’t know if your heart is beating faster or slower, but you feel it beat stronger. You turn away to get your bag, Minji just watches, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in distress and curiosity. The only thing she wants right now is to know how you feel.

You reach inside your bag for something, and Minji can’t really tell what it is when you take it out.

Finally, you extend the pale blue hair clip in your hand, “I have liked you since we were seven, Minji.” The girl looks at the clip then at you, her round eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you serious?”

You hold your hand closer to her, urging her to take the gift before you sniff once again, “I saw this and thought of you. It looks like the one you had when we first met, that’s the day I started liking you. I haven’t stopped since.”

Minji takes the clip from your hands and feels herself tear up, says nothing, stares at it, then stares at you.

“We’ve known each other for thirteen years and I’ve loved you for thirteen of them.”

“I had no idea.”

“We had no idea.”

“We knew nothing about everything.” It’s now Minji’s turn to sniffle but still smiles as she wipes away the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes.

“How could you never say anything? Thirteen years, Y/N.” Minji complains while caressing the blue clip in her hands like it’s a precious stone. “Thirteen.”

“I got distracted with soccer.” Minji laughs with you and pushes you away by the shoulder. “Every goal I’ve ever made has been for you, though,”

“That’s so cheesy.” Minji giggles to herself as she pops the clip open and places it on her hair, it snaps shut with a ‘click’. “What do you think?” She says, turning to you. She tries to ignore your eyes and how sweetly they look at her.

“I think I love you more than I love apple juice.”

That’s the last thing you say before Minji smiles and gets shy, she looks away but her hand searches for yours and you help her by placing yours over hers. She fights back by taking it back and placing hers on top of yours. It makes you laugh.

The sound of your laugh takes her attention and now she stares directly at you, a smile on her own face. Her cheeks now take a reddish color, and her eyes shine like the reflection of the sunlight on the water. It feels like a deja vu.

You think you could stare at Minji’s face all day and not complain. You think maybe she thinks so too with how intensely she’s looking at you.

You raise your eyebrow when her eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips, and she seems to notice when your lips form a smirk. “What?” She giggles at herself, her already red cheeks turn an even darker shade.

“I saw that.”

“Weren’t we about to?”

“So straightforward, You should’ve been like that when sending that letter.”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Is the last thing she says before she leans forward, she hesitates a little bit and her eyes go from your lips to your eyes, a shine of expectancy as if asking for permission, even when she already has it.

She’s about to close the gap when the both of you hear a chorus of gasps from the sea. It takes your attention. Hanni, Gyuvin and Yoona are all pushing each other giggling and gasping, hands on their mouths. You hear a faint “It’s finally happening.”, You can’t tell who it’s from though.

Minji is visibly annoyed, yells “Look away!” and it bounces in the waves. It’s actually insane how dumb she looks, red cheeks, furrowed eyebrows, pouty, perfect lips. It takes you everything to control yourself and even then you still can’t help grabbing her face gently and turning it towards you to finally, once and for all, kiss her.

You don’t really care if your friends actually turned away or not, because you can’t really tell with how glorious it feels to kiss Minji. It almost feels holy. You feel like you died and went to heaven in five minutes.

It’s a new feeling, a new experience, and it feels so familiar at the same time. Like flowing with the waves, like dancing with the wind, like drowning in apple juice, drowning in love.

Your lips dance like that for a while. At one point Minji’s hand goes up to your face and it’s such a warm feeling it makes you smile into the kiss. You start running out of breath and you don’t even notice. You could die happily if it meant dying with Minji’s lips on yours.

But then your stupid survival instincts kick in and it’s such a shame you have to pull away.

Both of your breaths are heavy and you burst out in laughter at the same time when your eyes meet. When your laughs die down your eyes fall on the pale blue clip that adorned Minji’s head. “You look so cute.”

“Says you.”

And then you hear cheering from the beach again. “Finally!” Hanni yells. You watch in astonishment, “Did she know?” You ask Minji while the both of you watch the three of your friends jump up and down in the water.

“I have no idea. I didn’t tell her. She might’ve noticed.” The cogs start to turn in your brains.

“They all did.” You and Minji say at the same time, then laugh at the same time. What a friendship of thirteen years does to you. And when you see Gyuvin and Hanni get up from the water and get closer to you, you realize you’re about to be ambushed.

“Oh, hell no.” You mumble right before you stand up and grab your bag. Minji just looks at you confused, “Come on, get up. They’re wet.” But Minji doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“Dude!” You grab her hand and pull her up as you run away as far as possible from your friends. You don’t even realize where you’re going, but laughing with Minji while running on the sand at sunset feels heavenly.

You look back and Minji struggles to keep up. Gyuvin and Hanni don’t look anywhere close and they probably decided to just let the both of you go, so you stop running.”

“We…” Minji rests her hands on her knees as she catches her breath, “We didn’t have to run that much. I’m not the soccer player here.”

You send her an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”

Minji now can stand up and breathe stably. She looks back and there’s no one behind. “So, where do we go now?”

“Home. You need to get changed or else you’re gonna get sick.” You walk towards her to touch her shirt, “It’s still damp.”

“Isn’t your house nearby?” She asks, “I live further away, and it’ll be night by the time we get to my house.”

You squint your eyes at her, “My clothes won’t fit on you, they barely fit on me.” You flex your bicep and the sleeve gets so tight it’s going to cut your blood flow if you keep it like that. “And I haven’t seen your mom yet.”

“And I want to have dinner with your parents.” She confesses. “My first official meeting with them as your girlfriend.” You never actually established that but it’s not like you’re going to refuse the offer.

“You’re actually so annoying, bro.”

“Says you, bro.”

“I’m your girlfriend, bro.”

“No shit, bro.” Minji holds her hand out for you to take it, and you gladly do. You start walking in silence for a little bit.

“Also, my mom won’t let us make out at my house.”

“Okay, that’s enough, bro.” You take your hand back and walk faster to get away from Minji. She immediately sprints to catch up and stick to you.

“I was kidding!” She tries to grab your hand but you refuse it and take it back. “Hey! Hold my hand!”

You look at her and wouldn’t you know, she’s making puppy eyes at you. It makes you give in, it never fails. “You’re so sticky.”

“You wanna know something?” She says as you start walking together again.

“What?”

“When you kissed me it tasted like apple juice.”

end.

🗒️ probably one of my favorite things i've written i giggled a lot and had fun writing this.. there's probably lots of mistakes here and there but i beg u pls ignore it bc im dizzy i can't look at words anymore. Minecraft coming soon! love u guys 🫂

#newjeans x reader #minji x reader #kim minji x reader #newjeans fic

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lightseoul · 17 days ago

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REVENGE (KEEP US TOGETHER) (1.9k)

a/n. this bkg lives rent-free in my mind. i had scenes and interactions that i wanted to insert in this scenario, but i think i blacked out 300 words in and bakugou and y/n just took the reins from there. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this one!

c.w. pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (~26), mentions of injuries, mentions of canon-typical violence

the first thing that registers in your mind the moment your eyes flutter (creak) open is that the ceiling looks unfamiliar.

the second thing is that everything hurts like a motherfucking bitch.

but apparently being in a wholly foreign place is enough to trigger the metaphorical alarms in your head, at least enough for you to still muster the strength and presence of mind to scan the area—first, the space on your right—despite the way your body’s practically screaming at you.

what immediately catches your attention is your right arm. it’s nowhere in sight, but you can still vaguely recognize it being attached to the rest of your torso. it takes you a second to realize it’s elevated and wrapped in a thick, white cast, and the moment you do, another wave of pain courses through you, and you find yourself gritting your teeth in its wake.

a few feet behind your heavily bandaged arm seem to be two doors, one of which you think is the entrance to this dimly lit room, the other probably leading to a comfort room.

and, if all of these aren’t indicators enough, the faint beeping sound echoing across the small area gives you the definitive answer that yes, this is a hospital and yes, you are on a fucking hospital bed.

how the fuck did you end up here?

stifling a groan, you attempt to turn your head to the left to examine the other half of the room.

and that’s when you see it.

you freeze—not because the minuscule movement is causing a nauseating throbbing in your frontal lobe—but because you see it.

the all-too-familiar, unruly ash-blonde spikes that can belong to only one person.

from where you lay flat on top of the increasingly uncomfortable bed, you can barely see his forehead, but there’s no denying it.

even more so when the person speaks up.

“you’re awake.”

upon hearing his gruff voice, your stomach instantly drops in dread, so much so that it physically hurts, and you’re starting to think that maybe you’re bleeding internally, too, and that in the midst of whatever happened to you, you hurt your organs as well.

when he says your name in question a few beats later, you make no move to respond, but deep down you know you can’t just close your eyes and pretend you’re asleep again to avoid regarding him entirely.

he literally saw you moving just now.

and so you try to sit up, at least for a whole millisecond, because a pulse of pain shoots through the entirety of your body, and you can’t help the wrangled moan that tumbles out of your lips at the scalding sensation. you barely see him through your half-lidded eyes, but the man jumps up on his feet, finally coming into full view.

bakugou, who’s decked out in full hero gear is looking uncharacteristically worried when he asks: “are you okay?”

you clench your eyes closed, fighting the urge to squirm in discomfort. you merely shake your head, as subtly as you can lest you bust a fucking nerve on your neck, before: “elevate my backrest. i can’t sit up.”

“shit, right.”

it takes him a beat to figure out the controls at the side of your bunk, but when he finally does, you find yourself slowly inclining up until to about 45 degrees.

up 45 degrees and now face-to-face with him.

once the contraption clicks into place, bakugou sits back down on what looks like a stool beside you, an inexplicable expression etched on his features.

and before you can even think better against them, the words are already out of your mouth.

“what are you doing here?”

that must not have been what he was expecting or wanting to hear, because his face immediately contorts into a look of borderline offense.

“the fuck do you mean ‘what am i doing here’?” he scoffs, folding his muscled arms across his expansive chest. “you almost got abducted, dumbass. you’re lucky you made it out alive.”

abducted?

the last thing you remember before you most likely blacked out and were sent to the hospital was that you were just exiting the grocery store that you frequent on Fridays after work when an oddly familiar-looking man appeared before you. he didn’t seem too harmless right up until he emitted his quirk that sent you tumbling across the asphalt and…

that’s just about where your memory cuts off.

“what happened?” you manage to choke out, suddenly feeling scared.

“as i said,” he starts, voice low and strangely hesitant, “you almost got abducted. you passed out after you hit the neighboring building arm first, but a pro-hero patrolling the area managed to get you before the villain could take you with him.”

you gawk at the man. “what the hell would a villain want to do with me?”

at that, bakugou’s face hardens.

“…’s because they want to get back at me.”

a million things beg to be spoken out of your mouth in an instant, but what you end up saying is: “why are you here, then? shouldn’t you be with the police or in the agency if this guy’s got a vendetta against you?”

“seriously?” he retorts, incredulous, before shaking his head in what you think is frustration. his eyes shift to the rest of your body, “you’re fucking injured and yet you’re asking all these stupid questions.”

you feel yourself flame in indignation, but you bite your tongue. if you allow yourself to speak, you may end up saying something you’ll regret later.

“…but if you must know,” he pipes up all of a sudden, catching you off guard, “they said i was your emergency contact.”

his voice is quiet when he asks: “you didn’t change it?”

you gulp despite yourself. thankfully, his eyes remain trained on yours and do not drift down to your throat.

“i forgot to,” you lie out of your ass.

you are not about to tell him it’s because you haven’t had the heart to remove him as your favorite contact, let alone delete his number.

“well…” he starts, diverting his gaze onto the pillow beside you, “…that and the fact that this villain has been after me ever since he got out of prison. fucking bastard can’t accept i apprehended him so fast back then. guess it hurt his fucking ego and wanted revenge.”

you stare at the pro-hero, debating as to whether or not to say the next thing, ultimately deciding for it.

“…and he was planning to do that by hurting me.”

bakugou’s eyes drift towards you again at your statement, a serious glint in them, although he doesn’t say anything in response.

a long pause.

“why didn’t you just tell them we aren’t together anymore?” you finally ask. “you could’ve just referred them to my family or best friends or something.”

“and have them be on my ass about us breaking up?” he quips almost instantaneously. “you were rushed to the er—i didn’t have time for that shit. and in case you’ve forgotten from that time they found out about us—”

“of course i haven’t,” you cut him off, eyes trained downcast on your fiddling fingers. “it wasn’t like i wanted the media to find out we were together in the first place. my point is that it would save you a lot of trouble if we just suck it up and announce it. that way, you won’t have to play pretend and be forced to be my guardian, and i don’t get targeted by vengeful villains anymore.”

when you finally look up at the man, the frown that found its place on bakugou’s mouth at the start of your spiel has apparently now deepened into a scowl.

“what?” you ask before you can rein yourself in.

“i’m sorry you got hurt,” he states sternly. “ i should’ve kept a closer eye on you despite everything, and i’m taking full responsibility for what happened. but—”

“—katsuki,” you try to interject.

“—but don’t think i’m in front of you right now just because i feel guilty or that i just didn’t want to deal with the fucking press,” he huffs. “i—”

you wait for a moment for him to continue, but he doesn’t. his mouth only opens as if he’s going to say something before it closes again, then opens, and closes.

despite yourself, your heart physically aches at the sight of him struggling to verbalize his feelings. you hesitate for a second, before finally deciding to say it.

“…i know what you mean.”

at that, bakugou whips to look at you, an almost imperceptible, stunned expression on his sullen features. “you do?”

you nod. “…i still care for you, too, you know? even if i try to talk myself out of it, i still find myself going through the news all the time to make sure you’re alright.”

and you really, really do.

because, at the end of the day, you didn’t break up because you fell out of love or anything remotely close to that.

it was an amicable agreement to part ways because you had absolutely little to no time for each other—what with bakugou’s demanding schedule as a rising pro-hero—and almost every little time he had free was always in conflict with your own career.

you both tried to make it work, you really did—adjusting and compromising and adapting in every way you could—but when it all boiled down to it you were always left disappointed, frustrated, and frustratingly yearning for each other.

and so before the love you’ve carefully cultivated together could morph into ugly resentment—with you hating each other—you both decided to just call it quits.

you chance a glance at the man, whose gaze has visibly softened at your admission.

and you wish you really couldn’t, or you wish you’d forget how to recognize it, but you can’t deny the look of what you’ve long identified as longing that’s written all over his face.

but before you can say anything about it, a soft array of knocks resonates from the door, catching both of your attention.

not a few seconds after, a nurse squeezes herself through the entrance, holding a clipboard close to her chest.

“sorry to interrupt your conversation,” she starts, painfully timid, “but i just wanted to inform you that the premiere suite is now ready, and we can now move the patient there.”

you whip (as much as you can, at least) to look at bakugou, who only shoots you a look telling you to just roll with it. you purse your lips in a thin line, itching to protest, but manage to not say anything as the nurse continues.

“…i’ll also have to talk to mr. bakugou later on as he is your registered guardian. i’ll just drop by again later in the suite so i can take your vitals as well. that’s basically it for now, thank you!”

and just as fast as she appeared, the nurse was gone.

when you’re sure she’s out of earshot, you turn to the man. “this is too much, katsuki.”

he merely shakes his head but again, doesn’t say anything.

you stare at him for a few more beats before finally sighing in what you feel is resignation.

this is going to be a long night.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @k0z3me

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 my asks are always open as well. have a lovely day, y'all!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

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drvscarlett · 8 months ago

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About You Pt2

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: were in the 2009 season. i also grabbed some ideas from a film quote so if you notice that, hello hehe. hope you enjoy, let me know your comments

About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama

2009, Albert Park

Moving from Toro Rosso to Red Bull has been the source of excitement of Sebastian ever since he signed the contract last December. He was excited to work with a bigger team and it opened up better opportunities for a championship which is why he feels really giddy walking to Albert Park.

"Seems like a good year for a championship?"Christian greeted Sebastian.

"I'm looking forward to that, the car feels nice"Sebastian agreed.

When the two walked to the garage, they immediately saw the Webber siblings discussing with some of the mechanics. Mark immediately waved at Sebastian.

Sebastian can tell that their dynamics improved since it was announced that they will be teammates. They spent a lot of time together in Milton Keynes so they found each other tolerable. It was surprising that now he feels a lot more closer to Mark than to Y/N.

He was actually expecting her to be around when they said Mark will be around Milton Keynes but the female Webber never showed up. Mark says that Y/N has been taking some time off since she will be busy during the season. Sebastian thinks he might be the reason why she has been absent so he felt a little relieve to see her.

"Excited for the first race of the season?" Y/N asked.

"The car seems alright, I think we can bring some good points in"Sebastian replied.

"We're gonna bring in a challenge this year, I can feel that we can compete for the drivers and constructors championship this year"Mark added

"How about Brawn, do you think they'll be a challenge?"Y/N wondered.

Sebastian heard about the team during the winter break. It was sort of a crazy story about how everything happened. He never saw Jenson or Rubens as a threat so he thinks that they might be an okay team that he doesn't have to worry about.

"They are a new team, I'm sure they won't be a threat" famous last words.

Brawn GP turns out to be a slight threat. Sebastian calls it a slight threat since this was only the first race and maybe its just their luck that they managed to pull away. They have to see how they perform in the next few races.

It was quite a bummer that Red Bull was unable to bring any points. It frustrated him heavily since he started 3rd and managed to stay 2nd the whole race until that unfortunate collision with Kubica that ruined his race.

Mark managed to finish the race but he finished 13th. Still out of the points.

As Sebastian was replaying the whole thing in his hotel room, he heard soft knocks at his door. He didn't remember ordering anything from room service so he was a bit confused as he headed to open the door.

"Hi Seb" it was Y/N "I was sent here by Mark to ask you if you want to go out and eat. You are in Australia and our family is from Australia and it will be a little bit rude if we didn't treat you out in Australia"

"That's too many Australia in one sentence"

"Have dinner with us and the family?"she simplifies "Please?"

There was not much to do anyway, Seb thinks so he accepted the offer. It might also be a good start to rekindle the friendship since its been a while since the two spoke with each other.

"You're driving?"Sebastian asked

"Of course, what kind of host am I if I'm going to make you drive"

The drive was reminiscent of Sebastian's memory when they were in Germany. Only that the view is more of beaches rather than the greens and the cold of Europe.

"I heard stories about you and Mark, it seems that you two are getting along quite well"Y/N opened up the conversation

"Oh he talks about me?"

"Well as his assistant, I have to ask about his work dynamics so yeah you have been a talking point of our conversation"

"That's nice"Sebastian smiles "How is life treating you? I didn't see you in Milton Keynes"

She lets out a heavy sigh and Sebastian could tell that there is a certain tiredness in her eyes. Maybe its true what Mark said that Y/N is actually drained from a season of F1.

"I just have to get away. A lot of pressure to deliver"

Sebastian understands that. Its probably the reason why he also tried to be understanding with Mark's situation as well. He knows that at the end of the day, the sports was brutal in one way or another. Everyone eventually gets that pressure to deliver.

"Let's not talk about f1, lets just talk about basic life things" Sebastian steered the conversation.

There was a smile gracing both of their faces because its just Sebastian and Y/N again. No last names, no championships, just them.

2009, Sepang International Circuit

"I hate wet races" Y/N confirms.

She doesn't get why everyone gets a bit excited with wet racing but she can't find how this is enjoyable for some people. Isn't the thrill of racing beyond speed limit exciting enough for them? Now they even want to race under dangerous weather conditions.

"It test your skills as a driver" Sebastian defended "Back me up here Mark"

"You're on your own Seb"was the reply of the older Webber. He did not want to take side with anyone.

The trio has been sitting at the garage waiting for the race to start. There was still 20 minutes left and Y/N has been stressing about how the dark clouds are looming over. She thinks it may start under dry conditions then go to wet in a snap.

"You can test your skills by overtaking and setting the fastest lap" Y/N noted

"Its all about strategy and taking risks"Sebastian assured.

"You better make sure that the both of you finish the race"

"No promises, Seb might hit me again"Mark joked

"Oh c'mon, I said I was sorry about that"

True enough to Y/N's prediction, the race started on the dry conditions then it ended up to be a wet race. Y/N had her fair share of wet races but this was the most terrifying for her opinion. There were puddles and the drivers can't see a thing with the rain blocking their vision.

It gotten so bad that Y/N actually went out of the driver's room to check on the status of the drivers.

"Aren't they red flagging the race?"she asked one of the mechanics

"There is still nothing from the stewards but Mark is also insisting that the race should be stopped"

Y/N was glad that she wasn't the only sane Webber around.

Just then there was a crash on screen and the weather made it very difficult for them to decipher which car spun but it was for sure a Red Bull. Y/N felt a bit comforted that it just spun without hitting anyone or anything.

"Its confirmed, that is Seb's car"

"Safety car for the lap"

"Webber is gonna ask to stop the race"

There was a flurry of emotions inside the garage. The race was stopped at lap 33 and there was the question if they will wait for it to restart or is it called off completely.

"I'm in 15th, this is not good"Sebastian was already groaning. He missed out on the points again by a big margin.

"Hey 15th is okay than dnf or being hospitalized"

Knowing Sebastian, Y/N knew he wanted to do well and it didn't seem like it was going to how Sebastian had it in his mind earlier this year. She gave him a comforting pat.

"Do you want some ice cream?"she asked

Sebastian looked at her as if she grew two heads "In this cold weather? You are asking for ice cream?"

"Ice cream heals people's boo boo" Y/N shrugged "Besides Kimi made me hungry for ice cream"

"You are crazy" Sebastian started "But c'mon lets go get some ice cream"

2009, Circuit de Catalunya

Mark: Can you see me before qualis at the back of the garage Mark: need your help, please

Sebastian never received any urgent texts from Mark so he must say that his curiosity is piqued by it. He immediately set out to meet Mark in the designated location.

"You need me?"Sebastian asked.

"Sebastian, just the person I needed" Mark seems elated to see him "Listen I need you to do me a favor"

"Okay as long as I don't have to hide a body"

"What?"

"Nevermind that. It was a joke Mark"Sebastian wanted to facepalm himself. Mark never seems to understand his humor especially when he was too excited with things.

"So May 15 is coming up. I need your help to distract my sister and maybe tour her around Spain while we do some preparation at the hotel. I just need your help to distract her for like 3-4 hours"Mark explained.

"15th?What's on the 15th?"

Sebastian was pretty sure that there was no race or other commitments that is happening on the 15th. He tries to rack his head for any important dates on the 15th but he can't remember a thing. Meanwhile, Mark looked offended that Sebastian didn't know the significance of May 15.

"Its Y/N's birthday"Mark answered.

Oh. Now that Sebastian thinks about it, Y/N never told her birthday. He felt like an idiot after realizing how they spend a lot of time together but he still haven't asked her about her birth date. But now that he knows, he makes a mental note of it.

"Okay. I think I can do that. Leave it to me"

"Thanks Seb, I owe you big time"

Seb: Are you still here at the 15th? Y/N: Why are you asking? Seb: I'm feeling adventurous. What do you say about getting lost in spain? Y/N: hmm sounds nice. Count me in.

"How long till we get there"Y/N asked.

They have driven for quite some time already and Sebastian promised that this place will be worth the wait. Sebastian will not admit it but maybe he got a little bit of lost in directions for the past 20 minutes and he is just starting to get the hang of the destination right now.

"Just a few minutes more" Sebastian assured. He can already see the spires of the building so he felt a sigh of relief escape.

"We were lost a while ago, aren't we?"

Sebastian just give out a grin as he continues to drive closer to the place. He stopped at the designated parking lot and unlocked the door.

"Adventure awaits Miss Y/N, welcome to La Sagrada Familia"Sebastian introduced.

When Sebastian was looking for a place to go, the La Sagrada Familia was one of the top hit. Sebastian didn't even consider if she is religious or what but he thinks she can appreciate the reminder that this architecture is still a work in progress and it has managed to endure a lot throughout the years of construction.

"This is beautiful" was her response.

"They say that this will be the most beautiful form of apology when it is finished"Sebastian informed "This was built for the city's sins"

"I beg to disagree"Y/N replied.

It was now Sebastian's turn to be curious.

"I think this is the grandest gesture of someone's love"Y/N elaborated "This went on for years, decades, centuries-they did not stop loving Barcelona that they continue working so that the city will be forgiven"

It was a pretty analogy in Sebastian's mind. He felt like no amount of his research could compare with that realization.

If the outside of the cathedral looks majestic, the inside is beyond what they could imagine. The both of them let out a small woah as they stepped foot into the church.

"You know you can make three wishes when its your first time to enter a church, they say it comes true when you do that"Y/N mentioned "You wanna give it a go?"

Sebastian nodded and he noticed how Y/N immediately closed her eyes.

'A world drivers championship. Happiness. Y/N receiving her wish' was what Sebastian prayed for.

He takes out a peek and Y/N was still in her own solemn state. Sebastian wonders what is it that she wishes for and he hopes that this three wishes thing works. He really wanted Y/N to fulfill her wishes, it will make him extremely happy.

"What did you wish for Y/N"

"Safe races, World Peace, and points for you and Mark" she answered

"Oh c'mon, you don't have things about yourself. Don't you have any personal wishes? Like your own goals or your own things?"Sebastian quizzed

Y/N knew deep down that she wanted something but she knew that saying it at the moment might not be ideal. But heaven knows, she prayed for Sebastian Vettel to stay in her life.

2009, Nürburgring

Y/N didn't mind that she was in heels, she was running as fast as she could to parc ferme. The moment that the last lap started and Mark was still leading, she immediately headed straight to the destination. Their father was already at the pits waiting with the signboard.

There was certainly a mix of emotions. Y/N's mind reel back to how Mark started pole and then had an incident with Hamilton at the start of the race. It caused him to have a penalty which lessens his chances of winning but Mark was in for a mega-drive. He managed to regain all the places that he lost from the penalty and here he is leading the Grand Prix.

Y/N felt her ears ringing as the crowd roars as the chequered flag appeared. Every speaker was blaring out the obvious, this is Mark Webber's first win in Formula 1.

People are starting to line up near the barricades. Y/N doesn't care if she was being pushed but she will be the first one to meet her brother and congratulate him once he gets out of the car.

"YOU DID IT! YOU ABSOLUTELY CRUSHED IT" Y/N screamed to Mark.

Mark did not miss his sister and immediately hugged her tight. He kept on repeating his thanks for her support and for not giving up on him. Y/N could only choke on a sob with the cameras flashing the emotional sibling moment that they shared.

"Congratulations Mark"Sebastian appeared next to him and Mark gave him a hug.

It was a happy day for the Red Bull team for securing double podiums. The whole Red Bull team cannot contain their happiness as the two walked to their podium spots. It is certainly a day that warrants a much needed night out.

So fast forward and Red Bull rented out a club to celebrate the victory of today. Y/N was certain that she deserved to let loose a little with the events that happened today.

Shots after shots, Y/N managed to drink everything up until the room started to feel a little bit wavy. It was a good thing that Sebastian has not been much of a party animal, he knew that this was Mark's time to celebrate so he won't be taking too much of a spotlight.

"You are seriously wasted, you should stop drinking now" Sebastian said, catching Y/N before she could trip in her heels.

"my brother won, can't you believe ittttt"her words are slurred.

"Yep, I'm getting you water and were going back to the hotel"

"NOOOOOO"

But Sebastian has already carried her out of the club. Sebastian knew that there are probably much more people wasted there but Sebastian was focused on Y/N. She was the reason why Sebastian decided to sober up the entire night. Knowing that Mark will be celebrating, no one will take care of Y/N.

Sebastian wanted to take care of her.

The trip to the hotel was smooth as Y/N was asleep at the car. Sebastian was giggling when he picked her up and she started rambling about how there are different kinds of beautiful in formula 1.

"But you know what's the most beautiful thing in f1 that I have seen?" she asked "Its the time where I saw Sebastian Vettel test the car"

Sebastian got curious, he didn't know that Y/N was around when he tested the car.

"And it was so dreamy. There was this beauty about him and you know he is so passionate. He isn't a paid driver or maybe he is but damnnnn the way he raced and the way he loved the wheels"Y/N rambles on.

It feels illegal for Sebastian to be hearing this and he knows he should not take advantage of Y/N's truthful drunkness to hear what she thinks about him. But somehow, Sebastian stayed with her. He tucked her in the bed and left a glass of water at the bedside table.

"Did you know Sebastian Vettel is the prettiest boy ever. He is so pretty like how the sun is so pretty to the plants" Sebastian also laughed at the comparison. Y/N was really really drunk.

"I like Sebastian"

"What?" was Sebastian's shocked question.

"I like sebastian, what sue me? I think he is a pretty pretty boy"

Sebastian feels like his heart is pounding but he has to stay cool. She is drunk right now and she might not be aware of the things she is saying.

"You get some rest, lets talk about this in the morning" Sebastian said as he left the girl.

It took every ounce of his being to prevent himself from confessing that he likes her a lot too. But Sebastian will do his confession sober. If Y/N remembers this incident then they will talk about it. If not, he will wait for the right timing to discuss the feelings he has for her.

Morning came and Y/N did not remember anything.

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #sebastian vettel x oc

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hopelessdazai · 7 months ago

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✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I don't expect this to do well because its not smut but it'd be nice !! reblogs appreciated, support your creators :)

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; angst, reader isn't alive, letter from dazai. he's trying very hard to keep himself stable but it's not working™.

To my dearest ______ .

It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't mind me writing to you like this, it's simply been too long. I'm sure you're still angry at me, so seeing you physically isn't my best interest right now! haha, I'm sorry. you know I'm just joking around, don't you? I'd love to see you in person. I'm sure you would've punched my arm if you heard me out loud right now, wouldn't you? I'm glad I'm spared of the bruises.

what does someone put in a letter? that's what I was asking myself before I even began writing. I decided that the best way to do something like this was to just write whatever I feel true as pen touches paper. I hope it makes sense to you, at the least. if I'm pouring my heart out on some paper only for it to be misunderstood, it feels like a waste, no?

though, i'd be lying if i said it wouldn't be rather cute to see you try to fathom what I mean. did you know you scrunch your nose like a bunny sometimes when you're reading? I'm sure you're doing that now too. you'll get wrinkles very at this rate ..

but anyway, I managed to prank kunikida the other day! you remember that hair dye trick I'd told you about? I managed to break into his apartment and swap out his shampoo, at last! he came into work the next day with black hair, it was hilarious, you should've been here! he was so angry with me. beat me black and blue!

oh, _____. I got a new heated blanket for our bed, you know? it took a while to save up for it, and I had to cut out some other necessities, sure. but it makes everything so much better! I hate cold beds, I'm sure you know that better then anyone. haha, back before we moved in together when I'd break into your apartment and crawl into bed with you. I'm sorry for the amount of locks I broke, but your place was so cozy!

... you know, it's been really hard without you here. I miss you so painfully, and I don't mean to call into the void without even an echo, but its killing me to pretend I'm fine about any of this. I'm not fine with this, how am I supposed to be? I wish it was just a bad dream.

I don't want to have to write letters to you anymore, ______. I don't want to have to buy heated blankets to try and stop my arms from aching for your warmth. I don't want you to be angry with me, I'm sorry I didn't apologise to you before you were gone. I shouldn't have been so stupid.

i had so many words on my mind that I was too afraid to say. maybe if I faced myself and told you 'I love you' it would've stopped you leaving.

have you met odasaku yet? has he told you any stories of his time? I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish you could answer my questions. even to hear you scoff at my stupidity again would heal me. I'm sorry I was annoying, I just wanted your attention. it stings knowing I'll never get it again.

I can't keep repeating to myself that you're not gone. I can't keep buying your perfume and pretending that you're in the next room over. your pillow doesn't smell like you anymore.

I wish I could apologise properly. I wish I could've stopped you from leaving the house that night. I wish I could kill myself to join you and yet I know we won't cross paths again in the afterlife. you were always too good for me, ______. i was nothing compared to you.

i picked up a homeless dog yesterday. you'd always wanted a puppy, I'm sorry I never let you bring one home. I named it after you. im trying to get used to them, I promise. if I couldn't save you, I'll save your name.

I'm sorry. if I continue writing, my throat will hurt more. its strange, isn't it? crying makes your throat sore. I forgot what it was like for a while, I remember laying in your arms wondering if I'd ever have a reason to cry again. now I can't seem to help myself.

keep your wings clean for me, white looks good on you. its a shame you couldn't wear the wedding attire i wished to see you in one day. you would've looked amazing.

I'll write again, missing you is the greatest honor.

sincerely, your osamu.

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mcflymemes · 4 months ago

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PROMPTS FROM SHREK * assorted dialogue from the 2001 film, adjust as necessary

two things, okay? shut... up.

you didn't slay the dragon?

some of you may die... but it's a sacrifice i am willing to make.

they judge me before they even know me. that's why i'm better off alone.

how will you kiss me?

that wasn't in the job description!

what is so funny?

let's just say... i'm not your type.

pick me! pick me!

i've got a dragon and i'm not afraid to use it!

now really, it's rude enough being alive when no one wants you, but showing up uninvited to a wedding?

it's a compliment! better out than in, i always say.

you can't tell me you're afraid of heights.

let's do that again!

what's that? it's hideous.

only a true friend would be that cruelly honest!

well, technically, you're not a king.

the battle is won.

so where is this fire-breathing pain in the neck, anyway?

hey, don't look at me. i didn't invite them.

it's on my to-do list!

you're meant to charge in, sword drawn, banners flying!

that's not the point!

huh, celebrity marriages. they never last, do they?

that'll do, [name]. that'll do.

you're going the right way for a smacked bottom.

well, that's not very nice. it's just a donkey.

where are you going? the exit's over there!

i have to save my ass.

what kind of a knight are you?

i was talking about the dragon.

man, this would be so much easier if i wasn't color-blind.

we can stay up late, swapping manly stories, and in the morning... i'm making waffles!

whoa, look at that. who'd wanna live in a place like that?

that... would be my home.

i think i need a hug.

you're a monster!

we were forced to come here!

you know, you're really quite a decorator!

it's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget!

i like that boulder. that is a nice boulder.

you know, not everybody likes onions.

everybody loves cake!

i don't care what everyone likes!

have you ever met a person, you say, "let's get some parfait," they say, "hell no, i don't like parfait."

end of story! bye bye! see ya later!

parfaits may be the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet!

it talks?

i'm not the monster here, you are!

now tell me, where are the others!

eat me!

i've tried to be fair to you creatures, but now my patience has reached its end.

all right then! who's hiding them?

oh you're going to love it there.

men of his stature are in short supply.

it's getting him to shut up that's the trick!

hey, what's your problem [name], what you got against the whole world anyway, huh?

i'll find those stairs.

look, i'm not the one with the problem, okay? it's the world that seems to have a problem with me.

do you think he's maybe compensating for something?

hey, where're you going?

oh man, i can't feel my toes!

take a look at me. what am i?

doesn't that bother you?

man, i like you. what's your name?

you're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings.

there you are, doing it again!

oh... oh this is all my fault.

you can't do this to me! i'm too young for you to die!

you gotta warn somebody before you just crack one off, my mouth was open and everything.

believe me, if it was me... you'd be dead.

i steal from the rich and give to the needy.

man, that was annoying.

i was sent to rescue you.

i'm supposed to be rescued by my true love!

your job is not my problem.

you love this woman, don't you?

i don't want to rush into a physical relationship.

like that's ever gonna happen!

why are you following me?

stop singing!

it's no wonder you don't have any friends!

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #shrek

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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago

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how long will I slide? || Eun Hyuk x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: angst, big spoilers for s1 of sweet home, that should be it?

A/N: Written for day one of @neohumanmonster's fandom event, Turning a New Leaf. Prompt: The Other Side. He's the one I had an idea for for that theme, but I actually haven't watched s1 of Sweet Home in a couple of years, so I hope this feels in character for Eun Hyuk, and that it's not too incoherent for the setting of s1!

Eun Hyuk has eyes everywhere in the Green House apartment building — as much as he possibly can, at least. He’s used to studying efficiently,to taking as much information from a page as possible in a single glance. He’d never thought his abilities would be used in that way. That he’d end up sitting in front of footage coming from surveillance cameras, making sure not to let anything go unnoticed, because that would be the best way for him to be helpful to the people around him.

Oh, he doesn’t just do that. He’s taken up most of the tasks that require organization, wouldn’t trust others with it, if he’s being honest, but this is where he spends the bulk of his days. In front of a screen. Staring. His books forgotten and gathering dust in a corner of the room.

He doesn’t get distracted. If his eyes linger when you appear in front of ones of the cameras, it’s just because you’ve been vocal about thinking that other solutions were needed, and he doesn’t want you to endanger everyone by trying to put one of them in action. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t have time for anything else anyway.

So when one of his screens flickers, he notices immediately. His mind starts running through the possibilities as he leans toward it, all of them bad. Any kind of system failure would be disastrous. Loss of electricity would be close to a death sentence. A camera being destroyed could mean that the monsters are getting better at finding them, smarter, which would mean they’re evolving.

And the last possibility, that he’s having a hallucination because his monsterization symptoms are progressing…

Well, he coldly evaluates, it would depend. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, if the residents could evacuate before he loses control completely.

When the screen lights back on, and he’s met with his own eerily smiling face and eyes gone completely black, he’s almost relieved.

Good, he thinks. I’ll be able to help as long as the cameras work.

“Will you?” his other self asks as it spreads to the other screens like a virus, voice coming out like a screech through the speakers. “Are you sure you’re helping them?”

He supposes it shouldn’t surprise him that the monster knows how to get under his skin, and yet he sits straighter at the question.

“Of course I am. Without me—”

“Maybe if they’d run when they wanted to, most of them would be safe right now,” the monster says, admitting out loud a fear that’s been eating at Eun Hyuk since the very start of this forced confinement. “Maybe you’re killing them by making them stay here. And really…” It laughs, high-pitched and maniacal. “Using that kid when you’d never have the guts to step out there by yourself?”

“I would,” Eun Hyuk protests, even if he’s aware that there is no actual argument happening here. “But I’m not the same kind of infected person as him. And I’m doing my part here. It’s not like…”

“Like you’re sending a kid out to be tortured only so he can be ostracized here? Sure looks like it.”

“It’s not,” Eun Hyuk repeats, weaker this time.

The monster opens its mouth to speak once more, when there is a soft knock on the door.

“Eun Hyuk?”

It’s you, and the monster’s face lights up as Eun Hyuk’s heart rate picks up.

Out of fear, surely. He doesn’t want you to know about his issues.

“Well how about that?” The monster practically purrs. “The thing you won’t let yourself have. Won’t even admit how badly you want—”

Eun Hyuk’s not really thinking when he picks up one of his notebooks to throw it at the screen. It bounces without any effect, of course, and the monsters starts laughing once more, until that’s all Eun Hyuk can hear, while it gets louder and louder and louder and—

The door opens behind him.

“You weren’t answering—”

“Don’t—”

You freeze in the entrance.

“Don’t what?”

He knows before turning around. Of course he does. Rational, human him is deeply aware that there is no way for you to see the things that his mind is creating.

“…come in before I tell you it’s okay,” he finishes with an even voice. “If you see something you shouldn’t, I don’t want to have to deal with everyone else’s panic.”

You click your tongue at him, and he immediately hates himself for saying it. He doesn’t even mean it. You clearly have everyone’s best interests at heart, even if you believe in a very different way of handling people than he does.

“Well, I just noticed you hadn’t eaten your share yesterday,” you say, and it stings that your tone is biting, particularly when he knows how soft-spoken you can be with others. “I was bringing you something to eat.”

“You should let someone else—”

“You can’t let yourself go weak,” you reply, pushing the food in his hands and folding your arms over your chest. “You know how much people rely on you here. We may not see eye to eye, but the last thing they need is to start worrying about you and thinking you’re not able to lead them anymore.” There’s a second of silence before you add, almost as if you can’t help yourself “Also, you know I already think these rations are too small. You really shouldn’t go a day without eating at least that.”

He glances down at what you brought. True, it’s meager, and yet he feels a smile forming as he looks at it, at the acknowledgement that you were worried about him, even if you didn’t phrase it that way.

“Thank you,” he says.

And just like that, you soften. There’s part of him that finds it ridiculous, how you’ve given him a million second chances, how he’s let you down every time, and how you keep affording them to him still. The other one is so, so infinitely thankful for your kindness.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He sighs.

“As okay as I can be,” he answers, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think anyone is doing good.”

You nod gravely, then brush your hands over your jeans.

“Alright. Well then, I’ll leave you to—”

His hand shoots out to grab your wrist before he can hold it back and before you get too far away. You turn around to look at him, surprised and a little confused.

“Can you— would you mind eating with me?”

He could justify himself. Tell you he doesn’t like eating alone, even if he’s been doing it since his parents died, tell you he needs another set of eyes on the screen while he’s eating, tell you he needs to talk to you about one of the residents. He doesn’t, though. You read him a little too well, could probably tell that he’s lying. And he hopes that, with that big heart of yours, you’ll just…

“Sure,” you answer.

You grab a chair, pull it so you can sit facing him. As you sit down, your knees brush against his. The gesture feels surprisingly comfortable, in a way that he hopes doesn’t bring too much color to his cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It gets lonely in here,” he answers, which technically isn’t a lie.

There’s a wrinkle on your forehead as you study him, one that forms whenever you’re concerned.

He’s more used to seeing the one between your eyebrows directed at him, the one that’s there when you’re annoyed.

“You can always ask me to keep you company,” you say, and his heart skips a beat. He’s sure you didn’t mean it like that, tries to pretend that it’s the monster that stirs his mind in that direction, but he knows, deep down, that that’s not the truth. That he’s actually desperate to know that someone like you could see value in someone like him.

But the truth is, if anything, you see value in everyone but him.

It doesn’t matter that you’re looking at him with these eyes, that you’re sitting with him, that you brought him food. You’re kind. You’d do that for just anyone.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he tells you flatly once he’s gotten himself back under control. “Thank you for doing that.” Then, after a moment, “Anything I should know about what’s going on out there?”

You start answering, soft voice describing all sorts of meaningless details that you’ve noticed and apparently care about. Eun Hyuk keeps his back to the cameras. He still sees, from the corner of his eye, the monster taunting him. But as long as you’re here, so real, so soft, so human, he knows he can resist its pull.

Too bad he doesn’t know how long you’ll stick around for him.

first time writing for eun hyuk and it was quite interesting to do! also i think i need to try my hand at writing him before s3 comes out lol. i hope you enjoyed it! reblogs and comments are strongly appreciated and keep me motivated and writing :)

more writing for sweet home

#sweet home #sweet home netflix #sweet home imagine #sweet home x reader #lee eunhyuk #lee eun hyuk #lee eunhyuk x reader #eunhyuk x reader #lee eun hyuk x reader #eun hyuk x reader #my writing

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sentientcave · 6 months ago

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Retirement Party

Chapter 5 - Wouldn't It Be Nice?

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John introduces Doll to some normal people, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Doll is kinda sorta Catholic? Who knew (me I knew)

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly this chapter is pretty mild all considered.

Ghost, Soap and Gaz come back a few hours later with the blue sports car (a bit scratched up, but tail-light repaired) and a pick up truck that looks a lot like the one John had before, but a generation older, and green instead of gray. John speaks to them briefly before he coaxes you into the truck and drives off, promising that the others will be gone before you get back.

He drives a few miles down the road, and pulls up in front of a little farmhouse. It looks idyllic, children and a dog playing in the yard. Two people on the porch wave, and John hops out and circles around right quick to open your door and help you down.

The couple trots up to greet you both. "Who's this?" The woman asks, looking at you and beaming. "You finally introducing us to a girlfriend?"

"Doesn't feel like the right word, does it, doll?" John winks at you, like your circumstances are all just a funny little blip, nothing nefarious or terrifying about it.

"No, it doesn't," you agree, keeping your face carefully neutral. "I'm Dalisay. Nice to meet you, um, Melissa, right?" You stick your hand out and shake hers. There’s no sense in being rude to them, just because they know John. He’s probably smart enough to keep his old life, and his boys away from his new one as much as possible.

"The very same! We were a bit worried John was going to be an eternal bachelor. Nice to see he's found someone." She introduces her husband, Rob, and her kids, Hannah, Haley and Jackson, who are ten, seven and five, respectively.

"Do you want to see the puppies?" Haley asks, grabbing your hand. Jackson grabs the other one and they pull you along to the garage, not waiting for an answer. You very deliberately don’t look over your shoulder at John, because you’re fairly sure that he’ll be looking back at you with a sickeningly hopeful expression. His comments from last night still ring in your ears, and you’re not willing to indulge that foolish fantasy of his.

The puppies are in a play pen with high enough walls to contain them, but still allow their mother to hop in and out. She hops out to inspect you, sniffing your outstretched hands warily. Her tail starts to wag after a moment, and you give her a proper pat, smiling. The dog has soft ears and a silky, black and tan coat, but you're not sure what type of dog she is.

"What's her name?" you ask, kneeling down.

"Bonnie-bell," Hannah says. "And our other dog is Charaid."

"Proper Scottish names," you say. The kids all have a slight burr, and although Melissa sounds scouse, it's the first hint as to where you are.

"Da said we was gettin' too English, livin' in London," Haley says. "I like it better here anyway. Mum says maybe we can get some coos. "

"I grew up near Aberdeen," you say. "But I've lived in Manchester too long. Lost my accent."

"No' far off, then, aye? We're only about an hour and a bit south and west," Rob says, appearing at the open garage door to supervise. His stern face looks friendlier now that he knows you're not proper English. "Was worried John dragged some poor city girl out'f England to live out here."

You hum. "Well, I am something of a city girl now. Been in Manchester since I was seventeen."

"Weel, welcome home then," Rob says with a wink. "We'll get ye proper re-acclimated soon enough." He leans over and plucks a puppy out of the sleeping pile inside the pen, and hands it to you. The pup is at the age where its somewhere between looking like a potato and a proper dog, maybe six or seven weeks old. "Gordon setter, by the by," he says. "Good dogs."

"Cute too." You settle the puppy in your lap, petting its soft little head. Bonnie-bell licks your wrist and hops back into the pen to lay down next to the others.

"Ye want one? This girl's no' spoken for yet. John's been hemmin' and hawin' about it, but I figure he wouldna want ta leave ye home alone, neither."

"Oh, I'm not sure I'll be staying that long. I'm only here because there was an incident at my apartment and John wouldn't hear of me staying anywhere else." You're not certain why you're stretching the truth to fit around what he and his wife think is happening, but you have no idea what John would do if you did say something. Maybe he would laugh it off like you were making a joke, or maybe he would snap. You don't really think he would hurt these people, but there's a wide-eyed prey animal in the back of your mind that warns you to be cautious, to be careful.

"We'll talk about it," John says from behind you. You hadn't even noticed his approach, with the noise the kids had made when they dashed back outside. "I'm trying to convince her to stay."

"Ye've gotta buy her a ring, ye daft bastard," Rob says, laughing. "A good catholic girl isna goin' ta wait for you ta get yer head out'f yer arse."

"If you don't, I'll introduce her to some lads in town that will," Melissa threatens. "Pretty girl like her has better options than you, old man. Better make your move before she realizes it." She swats John on the arm playfully.

You laugh nervously, touching the little cross around your neck absently. The puppy in your lap seems to sense your discomfort, because she starts wiggling in your arms and trying to lick your chin, little tail wagging. John kneels down beside you so he can pet the puppy too, eyes creased with a smile. "Is that it, doll? You need me to buy you a ring?"

"John," you say warningly. "We don't need to talk about this right now."

"No, I suppose you've had a rough morning. I'll try again later."

"You're impossible."

"Think you might kind of like that about me," he says.

"Not remotely. I think you're an awful, stubborn man," you tell him. Your voice comes out softer and sweeter than you intend, like you don't really mean it, even though it's true. The smile around his eyes grows deeper.

"I am." He picks up the puppy and holds her up in front of his face. "What do you think, girl?" he asks. The little dog's tail wags furiously, and she answers with a high pitched yip. And then she endears herself to you by trying to bite John’s nose. He looks stunned for a moment, but he grins when you start laughing. “Guess we’re all in agreement then,” he says, setting her down in the pen and standing up.

You accept his hand up, and quickly put a little distance between the two of you, before he anchors you to his side with a solid arm, or tries to reel you in close for a kiss. Rob and Melissa invite you in for a cup of tea, and somehow you end up sitting at a dining room table that’s obviously mostly used for crafts, and handed a piece of blank printer paper by Haley, and told by Jackson that you should draw dragons with them. The walls of the dining room are filled with tacked up juvenile masterpieces— Dragons seem to be a particular fixation of Jackson’s, whereas Hannah and Haley have more varied portfolios.

John stands leaning in the door to the kitchen, talking to Rob and Melissa quietly enough that you can’t quite pick up his words over the children’s chatter. You hate him a little for this, dangling Rob and Melissa’s idyllic little life in front of you. The implication is obvious. We could have this, his blue eyes seem to say when you look his way. Wouldn’t that be nice?

It’s frustrating, and confusing. You want to keep him at arms length for your own safety, but he’s already doing his best to roll right past your doubts and better judgment, like they’re just silly barriers between now and the future he’s dreamed up for the two of you.

And worse, you do want it.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” he says on the drive back. Jackson had been so excited about the dragon that you drew for him that he’d shown his parents and John.

“There’s a long list of things you don’t know about me,” you say.

"For now. We'll get there, sweetheart."

You hum, looking out the window. Spending time with the Stuarts has you wistful and homesick for something you can't get back. Days like this, you'd usually pour yourself a glass of wine, look through your family photo albums and have a good cry before going to bed early. It's been a while since it's caught up with you like this, but you'd always been reliant on your routine, burying grief in structure and familiarity. "Do we need to?"

"I'd like to."

"I'm not going to be what you want me to be."

John drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "What is it that you think I want?"

"Some little housewife. Someone soft and sweet to come home to."

"You seem plenty soft and sweet to me."

You sigh, pulling your arms around yourself. "I'm not consistent. I don't know what Johnny told you I was like, but he only knows me from work. I'm not like that all the time."

"I don't expect you to be."

"You say that now, but you'll change your mind."

"I'm not stupid enough to change my mind based on a bad day or two, doll. You're allowed to be upset. I wouldn't blame you if you spend the next week slamming doors and snapping at me. I'm still going to like you." He puts a hand on your knee and squeezes gently. Men like him shouldn't be allowed to have such attractive hands, and you shouldn't be attracted to hands like his, scarred knuckles, a few fingers broken and healed crooked. You know he's killed people, know it would be so easy for him to kill you. It turns your stomach that you feel any kind of desire for him at all.

Men like him are no different than the ones that killed your parents. Dealing death is not a noble trade, there's nothing honourable about exporting violence.

You push his hand away, and keep your eyes trained on the window.

He sighs, but he doesn't press the issue, just clicks on the radio to fill the silence.

When you get back to his house he sets you up in a cozy room down the hall from the more open main space where the kitchen is, an office of some kind with a couple of arm chairs and a desk with a clunky looking laptop set on top. The room smells kind of smoky, but you're just glad to have a door you can close while he "moves some things around". He opens the laptop up so you can watch something, but you just curl up in one of the armchairs and fall asleep.

When you wake, the door is open, one of your blankets is draped over you, and there's a mug of tea sitting on the desk, alongside a couple biscuits. You uncurl, your muscles stiff and joints cracking from not moving for too long, and pick up the tea. It's cold, like it had been left a while ago, but you drink it anyway, and eat the biscuits. There's a note underneath, explaining that John had run out to the shops, and that he'd be back by 18:00. You shake your head, and check the time on the laptop. 18:00 exactly.

Military habits must die hard. You imagine he’s usually prompt too, so you wander out into the main room, and put the clean dishes in the rack away. You realize that the living room side has been rearranged, condensed to a slightly smaller footprint, with some open space left by the far corner behind the bigger couch. The smaller leather sofa has been replaced with the little red love-seat from your apartment, and your T.V. is sitting on it’s familiar perch on the refinished credenza that you’d painted twining vines and little red flowers up the side of. You’d found it on by the curb on the Kinsey’s street a few years ago, and your friend Ripley had bused over and helped you carry it all the way back to your apartment.

You’re not sure you like seeing more of your things merging into John’s house, like any of it belongs there when you still want to insist that you’ll be leaving soon. You hate him for being presumptuous, but you can’t help but think it’s sweet, too, that he makes space for you so readily, that he’ll happily include your painted flowers and colourful blankets and bright red couch into space that was all his just twenty four hours ago. That he would leave you tea and biscuits for when you woke up, that he would tuck a blanket around you while you slept. You’re not used to someone wanting to take care of you, and it feels strange.

Strange, but nice too.

You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that it’s twenty past six, and John still isn’t back. It’s getting darker out there, the sun nearly setting, and as much as you try to tell yourself that you’re not worried, it’s hard to deny the stab of relief when you finally see the truck's lights pull up the wooded drive.

You slip on your trainers and step outside as he parks. He grins at you around a lit cigar as he hops out. “Did you miss me, doll?” he asks, insufferably smug.

“Your note said you’d be back at six,” you say lamely. “I just wasn’t sure if you’re usually on time.”

“Usually am. Got caught talking to Wells, down on the corner. Seems someone drove right through his fence last night. Teenagers, like as not. I’m goin’ to help him fix it tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You grimace. He must know it was really you. “Sorry about that.”

“No harm. By the sounds of it, you’re quite the driver. Soap said you nearly ran him off the road. That what they teach these days?”

“Defensive driving is well and good, but offensive driving gets you the last good spot in the lot,” you say.

He laughs out loud at that, and leans over to pick up a big paper bag from the passenger side. “Here, can you take this in while I grab the groceries?”

You take the bag (which is slightly greasy and smells like curry), and shift it to one hip. “Can I take anything else?”

He nods and hands you a second paper bag, this one with two wine bottles inside. “Wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, so I got both.”

You settle the bags in your arms and turn to walk away. “Bad time to tell you I like rosé hm?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder.

“Terrible timing. But that’s alright. One more thing, doll.”

You turn back toward him, and he’s right there. One big hand cups your jaw and then his lips are on yours, pressing a kiss that tastes like smoke against you. You stand frozen, holding onto your cargo for dear life, too surprised to do anything. It’s just as well, because in that moment you’re not sure if you’d slap him or pull him closer.

He pulls away without trying to deepen the kiss, which is a relief. You’re certain that you’d drop dinner and the wine.

“John, that wasn’t fair.” Your feet are still frozen in place, and his hand is still on your cheek, his fingers threaded into your hair.

His eyes practically sparkle. He’s entirely too pleased with himself. “Not fair because I kissed you, or not fair because I stopped before we got to the best part?”

Your cheeks flame hot, and you pray that he can’t feel it. “You can’t just— You’re impossible.” It takes concentrated effort to take ordinary, measured steps to the door instead of running. The effect he has on you is apparently very obvious. He never would have tried it if he didn’t know you were teetering on the edge of giving in already.

Boundaries need to be set-- Set and followed-- before you can really even contemplate letting this get any further. Unchecked, you have no doubt that John will have you underneath him in a matter of days. Once that happens you know he'll never let you go, and you'll never have peace of mind if you don't really get to know him first. You know he's not as good as he makes himself out to be, but you suspect he's a better man than your deepest fears might whisper to you. He's genuine about his wants, but that's not enough. You need to know him before you can trust him.

You set your packages down on the table and turn to open the door wide for John as he carries a tote full of groceries into the house. “Thanks, doll.”

The paper bag rips when you open it to pull take-out containers out, setting them on the table neatly. "John, can we talk?" You ask, glancing at him as he stows things in the fridge.

"Course, doll. What's on your mind?"

Nerves threaten to choke you, so you take a steadying breath, in and out, trying to quiet the sea of dread that pitches back and forth in your stomach. “You can’t just take what you want from me. Not if you’re serious about wanting this to be something. I’m afraid of you, John, and I’m not going to fight you. If you push me, I’ll fold, and I’ll hate you for it.”

He pauses, holding a box halfway lifted to the cupboard. It takes a moment before he moves again, setting the box on the shelf slowly. The silence is palpable in the room, settling across both of you like a thick blanket of snow. You fold the ripped takeout bag flat, nervous, the crinkle of heavy paper hardly breaking through the rush of blood in your ears, the panic that grips you by the throat. It’s as though the admission has given your body the chance to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last two days.

You’d been drugged and taken from your home, you’d been handed off to someone you didn’t know, with no clear indication if you’re free to leave or not, you’ve been picked up and manhandled and shot at.

Darkness flickers in the corners of your vision. All you can hear is the pounding of your own heart, the sick, dizzying drums of war, and high pitched ringing like a flat-lining hospital monitor, and screaming, and the rapid burst of machine gun fire. No. The screaming you hear is just in your head, the gunshots aren’t real, they can’t be. It’s not happening, it’s over, it’s been over for a decade, you’re safe.

Except you’re not safe.

Hands land on your shoulders. You lash out, fists striking something solid, knocking the hands away. You have to get away, you have to hide until it goes quiet again. Arms wrap around you in a tight hug, stilling your thrashing limbs and bringing you down to the floor gently.

“Doll! Dalisay, sweetheart, you’re alright, come back.” The voice has authority. You know that voice. It rumbles, shaking loose memory. “Come on, love, breathe slow. You’re okay.” You breathe in, warm spice and tobacco smoke, not burning petrol, not scorched flesh. You’re kneeling on the floor, and John is holding you tight, thighs bracketing yours.

The fight melts out of your limbs.

You’re not safe, but you’re not in danger either. John loosens his hold on you and cups your face, his worried face eclipsing all else. “Doll, where’d you go?” he asks. “What happened?”

“Panic attack,” you lie, because that’s easier to say than My parents were killed in a terrorist attack while we were visiting London ten years ago and sometimes I get so stressed out that I forget it’s not still happening. “I’m fine, I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t a panic attack, doll. Worked with Simon long enough to recognize PTSD. You were somewhere else.”

It’s hard to imagine that Ghost is as fallible, as human as you are, but you suppose there’s no shortage of opportunities for even the the biggest, toughest military men to to wade hip deep in trauma. The worst day of your life would be just another mission for them. The worst day of their lives would probably kill you outright.

"Yeah, I guess it was," you admit haltingly. "Everything just caught up with me. I won't let it happen again."

He shakes his head. "Did I set it off? I need to know— I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

"No, it's not like that. It’s just stress. It's been building since I got here."

"I guess that's what you meant in the truck, huh?"

You nod weakly. "I don't think I can explain it any better right now. But maybe tomorrow."

"Alright." John sighs, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing. " I don't want you to be afraid of me, doll."

"Then you're going to have to give me time, and space. I need to know what kind of man you are. And you should get to know who I am too.” There’s a wrinkle in his shirt, so you fixate on that rather than look right at him, smoothing it out with your fingers. “Let’s worry about becoming friends, for now. And then we can see if there’s something more.”

He doesn’t like that, you can tell by the way he pulls his hands back, reluctant to let go of you. But still, he nods, and smiles ruefully after a moment. “Guess I’m not as patient as I think I am. Too eager to get to the good part.”

You laugh lightly, the sound shaky from frayed nerves. “John, if we can be kind to each other, and come to an understanding, then it’s all the good part. You can’t build the things you want on foundations like this and hold it all together with sheer force of will.”

“You sure about that?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve heard I’m pretty stubborn.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his. You still feel unsettled, your heart still pounding, your stomach still roiling with anxiety. The emotion in those blue eyes is something you can't identify, something fathomless that strikes you with a foreign kind of fear, the kind that's shot through with hope that you shouldn't feel.

“You don’t know me too well yet, John,” you say gently, “but so am I.”

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Cave Writing #Retirement Party #John stop trying to make her feel at home you're confusing poor Doll #We learn new things about Doll this chapter!#She's been through it poor girl #John Price x Reader #John Price x OC #x reader #cod mw fanfiction #OC: Doll #as soon as I post these things I get nervous about it lmao

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