Tumgik
#collection: our fate rests with you
enha-stars · 8 months
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✧ Homecoming (18+)
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paring: idol!heeseung x fem!reader (fluff, smut)
summary: Heeseung, your boyfriend, has been on tour for the past 2 months with the rest of Enhypen. According to him, he’d be home in five days. But not everything goes according to plan, and sometimes, fate is on our side.
warnings: swearing, SMUT, kissing, minor exhibitionism, unprotected sex, teasing, hair pulling, wall sex (basically), oral sex & fingering (fem receiving), crying, praise, slight dom!hee, fluff
wc: 7.1 k
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Heeseung and the rest of the boys lounged in his shared hotel room, waiting for their manager to figure out their recent predicament. Although their tour had officially ended a few days ago, they still had a few promotions left. This morning, their manager had told them that the promotions might have been pushed to virtual, which meant they could officially go back home. 
“I hope we get to go home soon,” Riki mumbles, half dangling off the bed with his legs in Jay’s lap. 
Jungwon and Sunghoon nod, mumbling in agreement. Heeseung was too busy staring at the door to contribute to their conversation. Everyone knew that out of the seven, Heeseung wanted to go home so badly. 
He loved touring and his fans and the amazing experience that came with his job, but he missed you. He missed you so much that when his manager first told him that there was a possibility that they would be going home sooner than intended, he almost burst into tears. None of the other members even teased him for it, knowing that when it came to you, he was a bit extreme. 
“Hyung,” Jay called him. He nudged Heeseung with his foot and the man snapped out of his trance and raised an eyebrow at Jay. “Are you going to tell Y/n?”
Heeseung thought about it. He could tell you, but nothing was confirmed yet and he’d hate to give you false hope. Plus, he’d really like to surprise you. He could already see it. The way your eyes would light up and your soft lips would part before you whispered his name. 
Heeseung shook his head and patted Jake’s head that rested on his lap. “No, I probably won’t. I want to surprise her.”
Jay nodded in understanding. He knew how much Heeseung had missed you. Hell, they all missed you.  You weren’t just Heeseung’s girlfriend, you were their friend. Someone who took care of them and got taken care of. Before he could respond, the door opened and all seven heads turned to the sound of their manager’s voice.
“Good news, guys,” their manager smiled at them. “We’re taking the next flight home.”
A collective sigh of relief was heard in the room and Heeseung smiled so bright that Sunoo laughed at him. 
“Don’t look too excited, hyung.” Jake grinned. 
He was going home. He’d be with you soon enough. The thought alone had him on cloud nine, not minding the teasing that came from his members. He even let Jake borrow his beanie and gave one of his jackets to Sunghoon. 
He couldn’t wait to have you in his arms. Talking to you everyday was something, but it wasn’t enough. He missed how you felt in his arms, how he felt in you. He missed your laugh and your mouth. 
Heeseung checked his phone and smiled at your last message. A quick update of your day and a picture of your outfit. He sent you a quick text, ‘Let’s call later, I love you.’ And turned off his phone. 
There was a small pep to his step as he packed. Instead of throwing all his stuff into the suitcase, he followed Sunghoon’s example and neatly folded his clothes. You’d be proud of him, he thought. Wondering if his reward would be a kiss or a simple shake of the head. 
Now, there was nothing but a few hours and a plane ride between you both. 
He couldn’t wait to see you. To tell you he loved you. To make up for two months of time. 
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You glanced at your phone when you heard that familiar ping! When you saw Heeseung’s name on the screen, you lunged for your phone, almost tumbling off the stool you were sitting on. 
Your lips lifted into a small smile at Heeseung’s text. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. At least you would get to hear his voice later. For now, you liked his message and placed your phone back on the counter. Currently, you were trying to finish a painting you had started a few weeks ago.
The inspiration for the painting came to you after you had watched a fan’s recording of one of their recent concerts. The fan had managed to record all seven members dancing while the moon shone brightly down on them. It sparked something in you and here you were, trying to decide how many pieces of confetti you wanted to paint. After deciding on the aesthetic instead of the quantity, you let yourself get lost in the painting. It almost felt like you were with them, standing by the stage as they performed. 
Playing their music as you worked only helped your delusions. 
A few hours passed and your back and neck hurt. Stiff, you slowly stretched your back and winced at the sounds you heard. If Heeseung was here, he’d crack your back for you. Or if Jay was here, he’d offer you a heating pad. You stared at the finished painting and grinned. This was one of your best yet. Using your white quill, you signed the bottom of the painting and let it sit. 
Quietly, you shuffled across your apartment in your socks, swaying your hips to Sunoo’s voice. With Heeseung gone and none of the other members bothering you, you lived a relatively quiet life. In quiet moments like this, you truly felt thankful for them. They brought so much joy to your life. Loud and disruptive, but warm and healing at the same time. 
As you stood in front of your fridge, your smile turned into a frown at the thought of Heeseung. You missed him so much. His hoodies stopped smelling like him and video chatting wasn’t enough. You missed hearing his laughter and his constant singing. You missed the way he’d find ways to touch you, having to have skin-to-skin contact with you at all times. You missed his teasing and horrible jokes. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly finished since he had left.
No matter how hard you tried, how wet you were, nothing could push you over the edge the way he could. And you tried, gosh, you had tried. Nothing could compare to him, and you silently cursed him for it. Of course he’d ruin your own fingers for you. He always did want to be the best. 
Stop, you told yourself. Don’t think about him. You had come to tell yourself this many times over the weeks, knowing that even his voice wasn’t enough anymore. You needed him. 
You sighed as you scouted your fridge for all the groceries you bought yesterday and put them in a bag. You planned to stop by their dorm to clean up a bit and cook a few dishes for them. They would all be home in a few days and you wanted to give Jay a break. 
The poor guy, you frowned. You made a note to tell Heeseung to help the man out more. 
Grabbing your phone and keys, you picked up the painting and bag of groceries. The painting would look amazing on the wall adjacent to the television in their dorm and you had enough groceries to last them a few days. 
The drive to their dorm was a quick one. Usually, you would have opted to walk, but you had no plans on walking back in the night alone. 
You smiled at the attendant and made your way to their floor. Thankfully, they had fixed the elevator a few weeks ago. Maybe they finally saw the videotape of you flipping off the camera after pointing at the Out of Order sign and decided to take pity on you. 
You swiped your access card and hummed as the elevator slowly made its way up to the seventh floor. Your lips always quirked at the irony of the bright number 7 that flashed. Seven on seven. It was almost poetic. 
You put down the bag of groceries and leaned the painting on your leg as you dug through your purse for the dorm key Heeseung had given you. After a few moments, you found the Pikachu keychain and pulled at it. Your thumb brushed against the small head of the figure, recalling Heeseung’s excitement at matching keychains. 
Turning the key, you kicked the door open and winced at the smell. No matter how hard you or anyone else cleaned the dorm, a distinct scent of boy would always linger. Sighing, you grabbed the painting and bag before making your way inside, kicking your shoes off to the side. 
Immediately, you scanned the large room. You were the only one who had been here constantly in the last two months but it was always better to be safe. Sometimes, the staff liked to move the furniture around to change things up. 
Once you had made sure that all the plants were alive, you opened a few windows. It was a bit chilly out but the place needed to be aired out. 
You connected your phone to Heeseung’s speaker and began looking for the hammer that Riki had once bought because he claimed it “looked cool”. The painting was heavy and needed heavy duty assistance, which meant you needed screws as well. 
“Where did he put it?” You mumbled, having gone through all the kitchen drawers. The thing about Riki was that when he bought something, he valued it beyond anything. He usually slept with the item or banned any member from touching it. While endearing, it usually meant that when his phase was over, he tossed the item, never to be found again. 
Finally, you found the neon green hammer under the television table and sighed. That boy, you chastised. 
You reached into your pocket and grabbed the small screw you needed. Placing it on the wall, you quietly hammered it in. The best part about being Heeseung’s girlfriend and friends with the members and staff, was that you had free reign to do things like this. 
No one bat an eye if they found you hammering a painting against the wall. It made your heart squeeze, knowing that you had found your place here, with them. 
Fuck, you missed them. Only a few more days. 
Once the painting was up, you stood in the middle of the room, taking it all in. I was right, you smiled. It does tie the whole room together. 
Nodding to yourself, you grabbed the cloth you had wrung out earlier and began to dust the visible surfaces. You had cleaned up the apartment only last week, so it was still freshly clean. You didn’t have to clean up the dorm, in fact, everyone had specifically told you not to, but you wanted to. It made you feel like you were doing something; helping somehow. Plus, it made you feel at ease. You could smell faint hints of your boyfriend and the quietness of it all helped calm you down. 
Your own apartment was small, and cleaning it wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. Plus, this was the least you could do for the members and the staff. They all worked so hard, and you liked cleaning. When there was no one nagging at your or any time constraint, cleaning was almost therapeutic. 
Once you had dusted the surfaces and vacuumed, you made your way to the kitchen. You had an idea of what you wanted to cook, deciding on seven dishes; one that catered to each member. Washing your hands, you started cooking. 
You liked cooking on your own, but it was always better with someone else. Unlike Jay, you didn’t mind cooking with him. There were many nights when you’d tell him to relax and take over the kitchen, but he’d always want to do something. So, you and Jay were often in the kitchen while the younger members watched you from the island. 
Even now, you could imagine his slight frown as you took over the counter, not wanting to say anything but he never was good at controlling his facial expressions. 
You quietly chuckled to yourself, already knowing Jay’s reaction to a stocked fridge. He’d freeze at the sight and immediately start feeling bad, and you’d only pat his head and tell him to shut up. 
A few hours passed and you slowly stocked the fridge, using all of Jay’s containers. Once the food was safely put away, you began wiping down the counters. Your heart felt so full at the domestication of it all. You were tired and your body hurt, but it would be worth it to see their thankful smiles, knowing you were taking care of them as best as you could. 
Through the music and your quiet humming, you heard noise in the hallway. It started with shuffling and footsteps and turned into ruckus, with yelling and shoving. 
Freezing, you stared at the door before grabbing the closest thing to you, a butter knife. Any of the staff members would have texted you if they were coming and no one else should be here. Slowly, you walked towards the door, forgetting to turn down the music. You winced when Bite Me began playing, hoping the intruder(s) wouldn’t take the song too seriously. 
You watched in slow motion as the door swung open and you stopped breathing when you heard familiar voices and your knees buckled when your eyes landed on him. He was here. Why on earth was he here right now? 
Heeseung swings the door open, mumbling at how slow Jake could be sometimes when everything fell quiet around him. Looking up, his words died on his tongue as he made eye contact with you. 
The members behind him fell quiet, staring at you. All you could do was stare back, lips parted and eyes shining. Were you dreaming? Had the music and the spices mixed with the fumes of the cleaning supplies, putting you in psychosis? 
That’s how you all stood, staring at each other until you licked your lips and blinked a few times. You hadn’t breathed in what felt like minutes. “Heeseung?” Your voice was quiet, afraid the mirage would disappear if you spoke louder. 
Your voice; your soft, velvety voice brought him back and he smiled at you, his eyes bright and hands shaking. “Hi, pretty.” He spoke equally softly, afraid his words would tremble.
You dropped the butter knife and its clunk synced with the sound of Heeseung’s suitcase and suddenly, you were in his arms. His strong, shaky arms wrapped around you and you buried your head in his shoulder, breathing him in. His own head was in your hair, his hands traveling the length of your back, making sure you were real. 
He mumbled quiet nothings at you while you clenched your eyes shut, hating how your eyes watered. He pulled away and immediately cooed when he saw the tears falling from your eyes. His own eyes shined a bit, crinkled and glassy. 
“Oh, baby.” He used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your eyes. His heart was going to explode with the way you were looking up at him with wide eyes and trembling lips. Cupping your face, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Before he could pull away, you grabbed the front of his hoodie and with your other hand, you cupped his cheek and tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He smiled into the kiss and you could feel his heart beating against your chest. His lips were warm and your head felt fuzzy at the scent of his familiar cologne. 
He licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance, but before you could taste his tongue, someone cleared their throat around you. You pulled away from Heeseung, smiling at his closed eyes and the pout on his lips. Turning, you realized that the other members had moved further into the dorm. Jake, Sunoo, and Riki were staring at the painting in awe while Jungwon was checking on his plants. Sunghoon was walking around, admiring the cleanliness of the room and Jay stood in the kitchen, hands on his hips as he stared at you, fridge doors open. 
You stepped away from Heeseung, grinning at the way his lips pursed and how he reached for you. You smiled at the boys in front of you and opened your arms. Immediately, Riki’s tall body enveloped your smaller one, knocking you back. You felt Heeseung’s warm hands steady you and laughed as Riki squeezed your body tight.
You rubbed his back, knowing how bad his attachment issues got. He had texted you everyday, updating you with pictures or quick voice messages. You also received his longer texts, the ones that were filled with doubts and fears. You knew Riki saw you as a parental figure, and you were okay with it. Patting his head, you whispered quiet, soothing words to the boy. 
“Move, Riki, my turn.” Sunoo rolled his eyes, pulling Riki off you. You could only laugh at Riki’s yelp before Sunoo pulled you into a hug. You hugged the boy just as tightly, kissing his cheek. You rocked with him as he buried his face into your shoulder. He, too, like Riki, had often texted you with doubts. You wished he would see himself the way you saw him, bright and talented. 
You rubbed his back, basking in the familiarity of it all. Sunoo kissed your cheek before pulling away, a wobbly smile on his face. You pat his cheek before Jake shoved Sunoo and bearhugged you, crushing you a bit. You smile as he squeezes you tight and you pat his head, knowing how attached to you he was. Saying goodbye for him wasn’t easy and you could tell he missed you by the way his body trembled. 
“Jake, move, you big baby. It’s my turn.” Jungwon pouted, arms crossed. Jake mumbled a string of incomprehensible words and released his hold on you. You pat his chest and smile at the puppy eyes he gives you. You’d have to delegate your time with them all. 
You hugged Jungwon’s slightly smaller frame, slightly surprised at his eagerness. Jungwon, while very affectionate, usually hesitated with hugs. But he needed this, so he let himself sigh into your hold. 
Behind you, you can feel Heeseung’s heat against your back. He’s close, and he’s trying to breathe you in. All he wanted to do was grab your hand and pull you into his room. He needed to kiss you, to touch your skin, bask in your scent. He would have to wait, though, because he wasn’t the only one who loved you. You were his girlfriend, yes, but you were more. You were a part of their family, someone who had been with them since their days on I-Land. 
You were Jay’s sous chef, someone who eased his burden. You were Jake’s bridge, someone he could rely on and felt safe with. You were Sunghoon’s pillar, there to remind him to stand tall and lean on you if he needed to. You were Sunoo’s breath of fresh air, a reminder that he was not alone and that things would be okay. You were Jungwon’s and Riki’s biggest supporter, caring for them the way they needed to be cared for. You stood behind Jungwon, knowing he needed care and support even though he was the leader. To you, he was still a kid. And Riki, you were everything to Riki. A sister and a mother, both when he needed one. Heeseung needed to be patient. It was his fault really, having inserted you in their lives. But he was thankful, so thankful. 
“Jungwon,” Sunghoon tsked. “I’m waiting.” He stood in front of you, arms crossed as he tapped his foot impatiently. He wasn’t the most physically affectionate, but it had been two months and he had missed you. 
Rolling his eyes, Jungwon kissed your cheek before stepping away, shoving Sunghon’s shoulder before the older boy gently wrapped his arms around you. You laughed at his behaviour, before squeezing him tight. He wasn’t often like this, but when he was, you knew he just needed some attention. 
Gently, you rubbed Sunghoon’s back, watching as his stiff shoulders slowly dropped and he melted into the hug. It was the most platonic form of affection, but it did wonders. 
Sunghoon pulled away from you, grinning so wide you almost poked his little fangs. You smiled and turned to face Jay, who still stood in the kitchen with a frown on your lips. 
You shook your head at him, he was truly predictable. “Come on, Jay, aren’t you going to give me a hug?” 
Jay sighed and dropped his shoulders before he shuffled to you. You spread your arms before wiggling your eyebrows at him. He smiled before wrapping his arms around you, hugging you the way you assumed he hugged children. You ruffled his hair before patting his back, knowing how tough the past two months must have been for him. He would tell you, all in due time. 
Stepping away, he frowned once again. “Y/n, you really didn’t have to do all of this. Who’s going to eat all that food?” 
You laughed and pointed to the five boys behind him, all looking at you with a sheepish smile. “Them. And you. And Hee.” Before Jay could argue further, you raised your hand. “I wanted to make sure you guys came home to some food and I wanted to give you a break. So, just say thank you and shut up.” 
Jay stared at you before sighing and nodding. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You laughed at his defeated face, patting his cheek. 
“Don’t sound so upset about it,” you teased. 
Once Jay stepped away from you and walked back to the kitchen, the rest of the members fell back onto the couches, exhaustion knocking them back. Behind you, Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist and dropped his head on your shoulder. He kissed your neck and you smiled, dropping your head back on his shoulder. 
“Y/n,” Riki patted the seat next to him. “Come sit. You too, hyung.” 
Heeseung didn’t unwrap his arms from your waist so you both slowly walked to them. He fell back onto the sofa, pulling you into his lap. You settled in, shifting a bit before you felt comfortable. Heeseung squeezed your hips, and you grinned. He couldn’t have been more obvious. 
“So,” you clapped your hands together. “What the hell are you all doing here? I thought you guys weren’t going to be back for a few days.” 
Jungwon grinned at you. “All of our ending promotions turned virtual so we got to come home early.”
You could hear Jay mumbles before he fell back onto Jake, ignoring the other boy's groan as he shoved him to the side. 
“Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would have come to the airport. Or had a warm meal ready.”
Jay waved his hand, dismissing your words. “We’re still stuffed. We ate before we left and again on the plane.” He patted his stomach. “I’m about to explode. 
Sunoo pointed at Heeseung. “He wanted to surprise you but you surprised us. How often have you been coming to the dorm?”
You shrugged, your face feeling warm. “A few times… a week.” You bit your bottom lip as they laughed. You could feel Heeseung’s chest rumble and you leaned back on him. You slightly shifted your hips and his nails dug into your skin. Your own breath hitched when you felt his bulge. 
“Tell me about the tour! How was it?” Heeseung almost groaned when you leaned forward, excited. He was losing it a bit. Here he was, back home and you were with him, and yet, he wasn’t in you. What was he doing? Why hadn’t he taken you to his room and fucked you yet? 
The rest of the members started talking, words spilling out of their mouth as you sat perched on his lap, listening carefully. They spoke over each other, excited to tell you all about the tour. 
Heeseung barely listened, focusing more on the heat of your body on his. He chimed in a few times but he was more interested in rubbing circles on your lower back, smirking to himself everytime you flexed your back. He had missed you so much, and all he wanted was to show you. He knew you wanted him just as bad, but your self control was always better than his. 
Slipping his hand under your shirt, he rubbed your back. At the feeling of his nails gently hovering over your skin, you felt goosebumps litter across your skin. It was getting harder to pay attention to Jake’s stories. You could feel heat traveling down your body, resting between your legs. You wanted him so badly. But you also wanted to spend some time with the rest of the members. You missed them too. 
Plus, you didn’t trust Heeseung right now. Knowing him, he’d want to fuck you but everyone was home. You had some decorum. So you ignored his light, teasing fingers on your skin. 
“When did you paint that?” Sunghoon asked, pointing to the large painting behind your head. “It’s beautiful.”
You grinned. “Thanks, Hoon. I just finished it today, actually. Figured I'd put it up before you guys got here.”
Heeseung wasn’t listening to the praises you were receiving. He would praise you later, rewarding you with everything he had. He had so much to thank you for. For waiting for him, for the food and the painting, for being his. If only you would give him all of your attention. 
Having enough, Heeseung gripped your hips tighter, lifting you off him as he stood. A tumblr of surprised noises left your mouth at the sudden movement and you turned your head to say something but your words got caught in your throat when you looked into his eyes. 
Wide and slightly dark, you knew what that meant. Stifling a laugh, you simply raised your eyebrow, slightly impressed by his self control. You were sure he would have jumped you earlier, but he held on. Almost for two hours. 
The members continued to talk; not paying any attention to the silent conversation you were having with Heeseung. They had long gotten used to it all. Plus, it was easier when they ignored it all. 
“Y/n,” Heeseung enunciated your name, tasting each letter on his tongue. You could have squeezed your thighs together at his tone alone, but you held back. “Will you come help me unpack? I’m a bit tired.”
Your eyes softened a bit at his words. Of course he was tired. You chose to ignore the enticing fruit his voice offered, giving him the benefit of the doubt. You simply nodded and followed him as he grabbed his suitcase, walking closely behind him as he led you to his room. 
Thank fuck he had his own room. Being the eldest had its perks and it helped that Jungwon only felt comfortable sleeping with someone else. He was so glad his bedroom was at the end, furthest away from the family room. 
Heeseung’s entire body felt like it was on fire. He had been thinking about you on the plane. Everything he’d like to do. From where he wanted to place his tongue to the food he’d make you. He kicked his door open, dropping the suitcase beside his door. 
You faced his bed before clapping your hands, turning to face him. “Okay, let me do it—” Heeseung cut you off by slamming his lips against yours as he pushed you into the door, a hand on your hip and face. Your surprised gasp was swallowed by him as he kissed you ferociously.  
The kiss was needy and hungry, but so were you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back deeply. He pushed himself further into you until pain seared in your back. The mixture of pain and pleasure made you stifle out a moan and Heeseung slipped his tongue into your mouth. Sucking on your tongue, he fitted his leg in between yours, his thigh rubbing your pussy. 
Pulling away, Heeseung began kissing down your neck, nibbling and sucking. Your head fell back as you bit your lip, trying to keep quiet. He bit down on your neck and your hands flew into his hair, massaging his scalp lightly with your nails. You feel him sigh against your neck and tighten his grip on your waist. 
Unconsciously, you begin grinding on his knee. Heeseung kisses up your neck before capturing your lips in another heated, messy kiss. Saliva coats your mouth as his hands travel from your waist to neck. He slightly presses down on your throat and you moan into his mouth. 
“Fuck, baby. You’re killing me.” Heeseung pants into your mouth, lips hovering your swollen, bruised ones. His own lips are swollen and his eyes are blown wide. He swears he could cum in his pants at the sight of you alone. Two months without being able to touch you–without being able to feel you–were hell. 
Your eyes are shut and your lips tremble at the feeling of his clothed thigh rubbing your pussy. After weeks of unsatisfying pleasure, this was too much for you. You were too sensitive. Heeseung smiled at the dazed look on your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he took off his shirt.
At the movement, you opened your eyes. If Heeseung’s arm and leg were not keeping you upright, you would have collapsed at the sight of him. He looked so beautiful. Hair as wild as his eyes and his perfect chest on display. Gingerly, you lifted your hand and laid it flat on Heeseung’s chest, where his heart was. He watched you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at your frown. His heart was beating so fast. 
You looked up at him and he couldn’t help but press his lips gently against yours. You were so beautiful that it was too much for him. He watched you quietly as you lay your other hand on his right peck. He could only stand there, frozen, when you leaned forward and kissed his heart. His eyes shut when you began to litter soft, feather-like kisses across his chest. 
“I missed you so much, Hee.” You whispered against his skin. You kissed his neck, leaving open-mouth kisses. Your hand moved up his body until it reached the back of his neck. You pushed him downwards and bit his neck, smiling when he groaned. You kissed his Adam's apple before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. 
Heeseung opened his eyes and had to blink away the pure desire that clouded his mind. You stared at each other before he dropped his head, forehead resting against yours. “I missed you so much, Y/n. You don’t understand, I was going crazy. You were always on my mind and all I wanted to do was hear your laugh.” His words were quiet, spoken only for you. He didn’t miss the way you squeezed your thighs together at his words, his knee still in between you. 
“Kiss me,” you breathed. Heeseung smiled before he kissed you passionately, completely devouring you. As you kissed, he unbuttoned your cardigan, tossing it to the side. Quickly, he unclasped your bra before throwing it behind him. When his hands brushed your sensitive nipples, you pulled away from the kiss to release a shaky breath. Heeseung wasted no time in moving his head down to suck and bite your nipples, giving each one the proper love and attention he knew they deserved. His tongue circles and prods until you're shaking, unable to form coherent words. 
Slowly, Heeseung moves down your body, kissing and licking until he’s on his knees, looking up at you like you were his saviour and he was a man condemned to hell. Your knees buckled at the sight of him, messy and wild. 
“Let me taste you, baby.” He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your leggings and underwear before pulling them down. “I need to taste you so badly before I lose my mind.” 
You could only nod before moaning as Heeseung buried his face in between your thighs, nosing your clit. You let your head hit the door when you hear him inhale. You almost don’t catch his words when he mumbles into your pussy. 
“Fuck, you smell so good. ‘Gonna cum at the sight alone.” He looks up at you before rubbing your arousal all over your clit, earning moans and whimpers from you. He keeps eye contact with you before licking his hand clean. “You taste so good, baby.” 
He begins to leave wet, open mouth kisses to your thigh, alternating between biting and sucking at the soft flesh before he licks a trail of slick down your thigh up to your leaking hole. You buried your hands in his hair as he devoured you. 
Heeseung moans as he slides his tongue in. You arch your back at the feeling, biting your lip to prevent the scream that almost escaped you. His nose pokes at your swollen folds while his tongue works its way into you. He hums as he licks and swallows, the noise sending a shiver up your spine. 
Heeseung groans when you yank on his hair, his name quietly leaving your lips in rushed breaths. You tasted so fucking good, he couldn’t get enough. He sucked on your clit, tilting his head to make sure his tongue was reaching far into you. He shifted his thighs, trying to offer his cock some sort of relief.
Heeseung could have cummed as soon as you began rolling your hips forward, essentially fucking his face. You looked so fucked out, trying to reach your release against his bedroom door as all his members sat right outside. 
“So good,” he chanted. “Taste so good.” 
Groaning, his eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself in you; desperate for everything you could give him and more. He was slurping and sucking your pussy so loudly you wondered if everyone could hear you outside. At the thought, your hips jerked forward and you almost screamed as Heeseung’s face pressed into your pussy, his nose shoved deep within you. 
“Fuck, Hee,” you panted, pulling at his hair even harder. “I’m going to cum. Please–” 
He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around your clit as he sucked it into his mouth, eyes focused on you as your legs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him. The building of pleasure snapped and you sobbed out his name, clenching your eyes shut.
It was all too much.
Your nerves were on fire as your vision went white but Heeseung continued to lick at you. The bottom half of his face was shiny and slick with your cum but he didn’t care. His tongue worked its way from your entrance all the way to your clit, needing to keep your orgasm going. 
Your body began to shake, knees weak as Heeseung kept lapping up all your juices. His tongue fucked your clit and you felt another build up before you shoved your fist into your mouth to muffle another scream.
“Hee, Hee, Hee. Please. Too much. Please.” You begged him, losing all feeling in your body as he sucked you dry. 
It wasn’t until you yanked his head away did he stop, face dripping with your click and pupils dilated. He sat there on his knees, staring up at you. You looked down at him, trying to remain upright. Your legs shook and tears fell from your eyes. 
Slowly, Heeseung stood. He licked his lips, trying to coat his tongue in your taste again. Nothing would ever taste as good as you did. None of the food he had on the tour could compare. You were addicting, sweet, and if he could, he’d only have you as his meal. 
You leaned back against the door, trying to catch your breath. Heeseung smiles at you and your knees buckle at the sight of your cum on his smiling face. He kisses you and your stomach twists at the taste of your cum on his tongue. It’s dirty and messy but so was he. 
He pulls away before he dips his fingers in your pussy. You whimper at the feeling and the loss when he sticks his fingers into his mouth, sucking as he stares at you. With a pop, he releases his fingers.
“You taste so fucking good.”
You can’t say anything and Heeseung grins at you before he tugs his own sweatpants off. You can only watch as his hard, swollen cock springs up and hits his stomach. Gosh, you had missed it. It was the prettiest cock you had ever seen. The small veins that trace up his length to his red, dripping tip had your mouth watering. 
Grinning, Heeseung slowly walks backwards until he reaches his bed. He sits down, spreading his arms as he stares at you, his cock leaking precum all over the floor. You can’t breathe. It was all too much. You couldn’t think and you couldn’t speak. All you wanted was his cock in you, but he seemed dead set on teasing you. 
“Walk to me, baby.” At your blank gaze, he laughed. “You can do it.” 
Slowly, with shaky legs, you put one foot in front of the other until you reached him. His hands immediately rested on your waist and he was eye level with your tits. Leaning forward, he sucked one nipple while palming the other. Your hands rested on his shoulders, needing support. Then he sucked the other nipple, biting down. You gasped, throwing your head back. 
“Such a good girl.” He kissed the space between your breasts. “Cleaning and cooking for us.” He licked your nipple before pushing you into him. He breathed you in. “You’re too good for me. 
You could feel your slick dripping down your leg. You squeezed Heeseung’s shoulder, eyes glistening. His own eyes softened as he rubbed your clit, his thumb drenched. 
“What is it, baby?” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?” Heeseung wanted to feel bad, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked like that. Not when you made him wait two hours before tasting you. 
“You,” your lips trembled. “Please, Hee. Need you. I missed you.”
Your words made Heeseung dizzy but he wanted to hear you say it. He needed to hear you say it. 
“Need what, Y/n? Be more specific, baby. Come on.” 
You moved closer and threw your legs on either side of him, sitting on his lap. You both hissed when your pussy grazed his cock. Dropping your head on his shoulder, you almost sobbed.
“Need your cock in me, Hee. Please. Need you to fuck me.”
Heeseung wrapped an arm around your waist as he turned, throwing you on his bed. You landed on his bed, eyes wide in surprise. Legs spread, Heeseung crawled in between your legs. His cock hurt. You dripped onto his sheets, more aroused than you had ever been. 
“I got you, baby.” He whispered, a love-struck smile on his face. “I hear you.” He leaned down, kissing you. He threaded your hands together as he pressed them down on his mattress. 
While drowning in the kiss, you felt his cock slowly rub against your entrance. You whined into his mouth as he coated his dick in your juices. He kissed you harshly as his cock poked your entrance. You held your breath when he pushed the head slowly inside, moaning against his mouth at the hardness of it. You felt yourself gushing around him, your pussy sucking him in. He moved his kisses to your neck, finding new places to mark you. He pushed his cock inside you slowly until he bottomed out, groaning at how tight you were.
“Fuck,” he shut his eyes. “You’re so fucking tight and yet you’re sucking me in. Missed my cock, baby? Did your pretty pussy miss my dick?” 
You could only moan in response. The feeling of being full after weeks had tears leaking from your eyes. None of your toys could compare to Heeseung, not with how big he was. 
Heeseung began slowly rocking his hips slowly, wanting to give you a moment to breathe. He could tell you were overstimulated, but he wasn’t done. When your eyes fluttered open, his pace fastened and deepened. “Never leave me again,” you mumbled. “Missed you too much.” At your words, Heeseung breathed hard and starting fucking you faster. His hand snaked down, rubbing quick circles on your clit.
Before you could cry out, he slammed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans. “Quiet, baby,” his words wobbled. “They’re all out there.” At the reminder, you squeezed his dick and he fucked you even harder. Your vision blurred before you mumbled out a series of incoherent words. 
“That’s it, baby. You’re taking me so well.”
Heeseung’s forehead was covered in sweat and his cock twitched. “Cum for me, Y/n.” He wasn’t going to last. He needed you to cum right now. He needed to cum in your pussy, needed to fill you up after months of emptiness.
You moaned as you squirted and came all over his cock. You lost all control of your body and felt your walls uncontrollably clench his cock so hard. Heeseung moaned loudly as he bit your neck, cumming inside of you. He emptied himself in you, the squelching sound became louder as your juices mixed and he fucked into you, filling you up. He was mesmerized by the sight of his dick in your cunt, disappearing. This is where he was always meant to be, in you and beside you. 
You babbled a string of words he assumed were his names as he pumped into you, lost in your cunt. He kept fucking you, unable to stop. You were crying, overstimulated and emotional. When the last drop of his cum dripped into your cunt, he slowed his pace. He pressed kisses to your face and neck until he stopped moving his hips. 
Heeseung collapsed on top of you, his head buried in your neck, cock still inside you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You couldn’t feel your pussy but Heeseung’s weight on top of you was welcomed. 
After a few minutes, he pressed a kiss to your neck and shifted to get up when you tightened your hold on him, shaking your head. He stopped moving and looked at you. “Baby?”
“No,” you mumbled. “Stay on me. Stay in me.”
Heeseung didn’t need to be told twice. Dropping his head, he laid there. You breathed him in, sweat covering your bodies. Heeseung closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from pressing kisses to your neck. 
You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Heeseung’s cock inside you. It’s where he belonged, and he had to make up for lost time. 
“Welcome home, baby,” you smiled. 
Heeseung grinned before biting your neck, licking up to your jaw. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, smiling softly at you, only love and adoration in his eyes. “I love you, Y/n.”
Your heart squeezed in your chest. “I love you, Hee.” 
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a/n: hello! i finally finished my first heeseung fic! so excited. this is my first time writing proper smut so please bare with me. reblogs and comments are appreciated!!
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mariclerc · 8 months
Text
An unexpected role | cl16
Summary: You revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well.
Warning: fluffy Charles, step dad!Charles, some tears while storytelling.
a/n: This is a little long story, but I hope you like it! Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
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You never thought you'd go back to dating after the way your last relationship ended, which wasn't in a pleasant way... But here you were, in a coffee shop with a guy who was a known friend to your bestie, Lola, what seemed strange to you is that you never heard her talk about him... And obviously she hardly talked about him, since he is a racing driver.
To your surprise the date was going very well, you seemed to be in a fairy tale or something similar, you had a good feeling in your chest and it had been a long time since you had felt that way with someone.
“But I'm done talking about myself... Tell me more about yourself” He said while giving you a little smile, he told you about his races and that seemed very interesting to you, you used to be a Formula One fan when you were a little girl you watched the races with your father.
You let out a small sigh. "About me? I don't know what you would like to know about me, I don't think I have a very interesting life compared to yours.”
He denied while smiling. “You can tell me anything about yourself and I will find it very interesting.”
As if by fate, your cell phone, which was on the table, turned on showing a message from Lola, she was taking care of your little two-year-old girl Lily. The message said: “She just wanted to send her mama some kisses 😘” maybe she sent you a gif of your little daughter blowing kisses at the camera... You smiled a little when you saw the notification, what you didn't realize was the look of a certain green-eyed Monegasque who was also looking at the screen with curiosity.
“Um... Tell me you didn't see my screen, did you?” you said a little fearfully.
“I'll just tell you that I saw what was necessary... But now I am curious to know who that person is who sent you kisses” He tilted his head a little. “Do you have someone waiting for you at home?”
You took a breath, this wasn't the way you wanted him to know. “Actually... Yes, I have a little person waiting for me at home.”
You took courage and spoke again. “This wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you this, but,” you said with trembling hands. “I'm a single mom.”
You narrowed your eyes, expecting the worst possible reaction, perhaps he would get up from the table and leave without wanting to know more about you for the rest of his life, but you didn't expect his hand to rest on yours in a gesture that filled your heart.
“Wow... That's unexpected, but... Wow, I don't know what to say.” He said while giving you a loving look. “I don't want to sound nosy but you do have an interesting life.”
“Yes, well, dealing with a two-year-old little girl is not easy at all... But I wouldn't change it for anything.”
“Tell me about her… About you two actually.”
Just saying those words was enough to turn you into a first-rate chatterbox, you told him everything about you and Lily, the rollercoaster of emotions with pregnancy, the appointments to the gynecologist, the day she was born and so on, you practically spat out all the information there was and could be about the two of you. But his look of adoration and care did not leave his face, he listened attentively to every word you said to him, it was as if he were collecting data for the future? You didn't know exactly.
“Oh wow, that's totally amazing.” He said while having a small smile on his face. “I noticed you didn't mention her father, did something happen between you? If you don't want to answer, that's fine! I understand, there's no problem at all.”
You sighed again, there were few people who knew what happened between you and your ex, maybe telling him won't hurt.
“Well... He abandoned me when I told him I was pregnant, our relationship lasted almost two years, but when I told him the news, he left but without leaving me a nice little gift, a good blow on the cheek.” You said while chuckled. “And on top of that, my family didn't take the news very well either, they told me such hurtful things that made me feel unprotected and hurt by the people I least expected.” You said as you sobbed a little. “But hey, these are things that happen, right?” You said as you dried a few tears with your hand, but they kept coming, one of his hands rested on your face to dry your tears with his thumb and you smiled weakly.
“Oh God, I'm very sorry, I didn't imagine such a thing would have happened to you... But you are very brave and it shows, well, from what you tell me, that you do what is best for your little Lily." He said and your eyes crystalized again, you wanted to hug him, nobody had never said those beautiful words to you.
“Thank you Charles... I have never been told anything as nice as that.” You whispered.
“It's nothing, pretty. Now you will hear them more often.” He smiled as he winked and you giggled, apparently this date is going to lead to something very precious.
-
“Honey, stay calm baby, mama is trying to comb your hair.” You said as you tried to make Lily's pigtails, but she was a little restless today, excited perhaps.
You had been talking to Charles after that date, and now two weeks after that he is going to meet little Lily, he is taking you both to an ice cream parlor. You had been sending him pictures of her and so on, you talked about everything and at the same time about nothing, it was like an instant connection and that for you was fascinating, considering that he didn't run away from you when you told him everything you experienced with your daughter.
The sound of your apartment's doorbell distracted you, luckily you managed to do your little girl's hair in time.
“Let's see who's waiting for us at the door, little princess.” You said and took her hand, when you opened the door Charles was there with a shy smile and in his hands he had a bouquet of daisies and a little bag.
“Hi cutie” He said with some tenderness and smiled. “Uhm... These are for you... I saw them and I remembered you, I don't know why, maybe because they are pretty like you.” He smiled and extended the bouquet of daisies to you.
“You didn't have to do it Charles," You said as you placed them in a vase of water. “My love, meet a friend, his name is Charles… Say hello darling.” You said to Lily, who was hiding behind your legs.
“H..hi!” Lily stammered, she talks a little, although sometimes she tends to be a non-stop chatterbox, but she's adorable.
“But it's the popular Lily! Your mama has told me a lot about you.” He said with a smile as he crouched down to be level with her. “Look, I brought you something.” He said as he took out a bunny stuffed animal from the bag, Lily's eyes lit up at the presence of the stuffed animal.
“Bunny!” She said as she stretched out her little hands towards the little stuffed animal and took it from Charles's hands.
“How do you say, honey?” You emphasized.
“Thank... You” She said while babbling between laughs, Charles gave her a little smile and a small kiss on her forehead, you can swear that when you saw that your heart melted completely.
“It's nothing little princess!” He said as he looked at you and smiled. “Okay, shall we go? Those ice creams are waiting for us!” He said in an animated tone earning a small jump from Lily. If this were a competition, he would already be ahead by a long shot.
-
After going for ice cream and going to the park for a while, sleep began to take over Lily, both you and she had spent a very fun day with Charles, it's been a long time since you had such a good time, with her you always do your best to do something fun between the two of you.
“Mama... Swleep” She said adorably as she snuggled up next to you.
“Don't worry little one, Charlie is going to take us home, you will soon be sleeping comfortably in your bed." You said as you smiled at your little girl, you turned your head and saw the green-eyed boy smiling as he took your hand.
Sooner than expected you found yourself at the door of your building while trying to lift Lily out of the car.
“Leave it to me, I’ll help you with Lily.” He said and he carefully took Lily from your arms and carried her against his shoulder.
You noticed how natural the scene was and how incredibly comfortable Lily was in his arms, you smiled. Only Lola did those things to help you get out of somewhere with Lily, but seeing him with her in his arms gave you a feeling of familiarity in your chest.
You entered the building and took the elevator until you reached your apartment, when you entered he gave you Lily again and you took her to her room to put her pajamas on, he looked at you tenderly from the door frame, it's incredible how he won Lily's affection so quickly.
“You are ready to dream, little miss!” You said as you placed kisses on her face and she giggled while holding the stuffed bunny that Charles had given her earlier.
“Chas! Chas! Bed!” She said a little enthusiastically towards Charles, your time to tell her a story was approaching.
He approached her bed and she smiled and then you started telling her the respective bedtime story. At the end of telling her the story, you approached her and kissed her goodnight.
“Good night my sunshine! I love you so much” you said as you gave her a kiss and she smiled.
“Chas!” she said towards Charles and he smiled.
“Good night little one! I loved being with you and your mama today.” He said while he gave her a kiss on the forehead and caressed her head.
“Morrow chas?” She asked as she looked at him sleepily.
He smiled and looked at you tenderly, as if he was asking permission or something.
“Only if your mama agrees, darling.” He said and smiled a little.
You sighed and smiled. “It's okay sunshine, Charlie can come tomorrow.”
After saying that she smiled again and you two left the room closing the door behind you, you sighed a little and smiled at him.
“Thank you for this nice evening Charles,” you whispered. “You didn't have to came here and...”
You didn't finish speaking when you felt his lips on yours, it was an unexpected but amazing action in a way. Was it something that was going to happen? Yes, but you didn't expect it to be so soon, maybe he also felt the connection between the three of you.
“I'm not lying to you if I tell you that I want this every day, I mean... I want to go out with you to the most childish place of all, I want to have breakfast with you, play dolls with Lily, be your supporter and your rock.” He said in a whisper. “And I know it's an unexpected role in your lives, but I would really like this... I don't know if you also want the same thing.”
You nodded, you wanted this too, for the first time you felt seen, you felt like someone was listening to you and little Lily and that's something important for you two, because at the end of it all, he was going to gracefully take on the most unexpected role of all... And who knew that a date with your bestie's friend would go so well.
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gubsbuubs · 8 months
Text
Friendly Cupid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 5K
Warnings/Tags: Fluff, slow burn? smut, creampie.
Summary: Despite their closeness, Y/N and Spencer's relationship always stayed within the bounds of friendship. That's until a very fateful Valentine's Day, when a friend decided to play cupid.
A/N: Hi my loves! The "Friends to Lovers" trope won the poll, thanks to your votes. Any thoughts or suggestions for what's next? I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
My requests are open!
English is not my first language.
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The team basked in a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment as we settled into our seats on the jet, heading back home after successfully closing another case. The subtle hum of the engines seemed to echo the collective satisfaction that enveloped us.
We had just finished a case where the unsub targeted individuals with a deep passion for books. Each victim was chosen based on their preference for a particular literary work. The killer orchestrated scenarios inspired by famous novels, challenging us to decipher the connections between the crime scenes and the literary references.
From my seat across from his, at the meeting table in the Nevada police department's, I observed Spencer in awe. His deep concentration, the way his fingers danced over the pages, and the thoughtful furrow of his brow—he looked so handsome, absorbed in the task of perusing a pile of books that would have taken me at least two years to read.
I cherished watching Spencer at work; his intellect, passion, and dedication were captivating. There was an undeniable admiration that had grown within me as we spent countless hours in shared pursuit of justice.
I vividly recall the first time our connection became something more. After a grueling case left him drained, slowly succumbing to fatigue, his head found refuge on my shoulder during the flight back. It was an unexpectedly intimate encounter—his tousled hair brushing against my neck and the faint scent of lemon shampoo lingering close to my nose. Though innocent, the closeness left an indelible mark, and often I think about the weight of his head resting against me.
Fast forward to another sweet moment; it was forever engraved in my mind when I first noticed that he cared for me. Spencer and I were staked out in a park that an unsub used to frequent in Boston. The autumn winds whispered through the colorful foliage, and the chilling breeze made my arms shiver. It was getting cold, and I scolded myself for not bringing my jacket. Spencer, ever observant, noticed how I hugged myself for warmth and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"
"What? No, it's just a bit chilly, but I can take it," I chuckled, my teeth almost clacking against each other as I shivered.
"I can clearly see you're cold, Y/N."
"Okay, fine. I may be a little bit cold; we left in a hurry, and I forgot my jacket," I admitted.
Without hesitation, he took off his FBI jacket and handed it to me. "No, Spencer, I can't accept this. If it's cold for me, it will be cold for you too," I protested.
"Compared to men, women have less muscle, which is a natural heat producer. They also have 6 to 11 percent more body fat than men, which keeps the inner organs toasty but blocks the flow of blood carrying heat to the skin and extremities." He started to ramble while holding the jacket in front of me.
So I gave up, not wanting to hear him talk about this for the rest of the night, and accepted his offer. As the jacket touched my body, I could still feel his warmth, and the scent of his perfume enveloped me. His tall stature made the jacket too big for me, and I struggled with the oversized jacket's zipper. Looking down as I tried to zip it, I felt his hand on mine. "Hey, come here! Let me help you." I looked up to meet his beautiful brown eyes as he held his gaze on mine. His gentle hands zipped up the jacket. "There you go; now you'll feel warm," he added with a sweet smile.
We had a connection—an undeniable force drawing us together. For example, with Spencer and I, the casual "sorry, Y/n, passing through" was never just a phrase; it accompanied the gentle press of his hand on my side.
When shared laughter ensued, it almost always led to a playful nudge against my shoulder, a light and affectionate gesture.
And there were times when Spencer would reach out with a reassuring touch on my arm during tense discussions or a challenging moment. His fingertips, feather-light yet grounding, conveyed a silent reassurance that we were in this together.
I’d like to think that our connection extended beyond the realm of solving cases and catching serial killers, finding roots in those quiet spaces between words, because unspoken sentiments resonated louder than any conversation we had.
These simple and innocent touches left me curious, especially considering Spencer's general aversion to physical contact, often sidestepping handshakes. Each touch, though understated, carried a significance that lingered, prompting me to ponder the depths of our friendship.
Yet, somehow, we were never more than friends. Perhaps because of the lingering fear of disrupting the delicate balance we had, I hesitated to act upon the emotions that quietly blossomed within.
So, Spencer and I stayed comfortably within the boundaries of friendship, keeping the unexplored depths of our connection confined to the realm of what-ifs and maybes.
Rather than risking it all, I chose the simplicity of silent observation and opted for the quiet intimacy of just watching him while he worked. There was an unspoken fascination with witnessing Spencer's mind at play.
The breakthrough came when Spencer uncovered a pattern in the victims' book preferences, his face lighting up at the realization. The Unsub, it seemed, orchestrated his killings based on the ominous narratives found within these chosen novels. Each victim unwittingly acquired a literary prelude to their tragic end as the killer turned the pages of their lives into a haunting script of their own demise.
With this knowledge, we were able to predict the next target and swoop in just in time to prevent another tragedy. The final confrontation took place in an abandoned library, where the unsub attempted to stage his twisted interpretation of a tragic love story. With swift and coordinated action, we thwarted his plans and brought justice to the victims.
So, with the unsub's twisted plans foiled, we found solace in the fact that we had saved the couple from his dark intentions.
Amidst the chatter on the jet, the mood shifted to a more relaxed and celebratory tone. The weight of the case had dissipated, replaced by a comforting conversation and shared laughter.
"Hey, Prentiss, any hot plans for Valentine's Day? Morgan teased, giving Emily a mischievous grin.
"Valentine's Day? Seriously, Morgan? After all the chaos of this week, I just want a quiet night with a good bottle of wine," Emily responded, leaning further into her seat.
"Valentine's Day is this weekend, and I completely forgot! Will and I will have to just stay at home," JJ confessed, sounding a bit bummed.
"Well, Beth and I will be taking Jack to the cinema to watch a movie. Would you like us to also take Henry so you and Will can have a date?" Hotch offered.
"Oh, Hotch, that’s very sweet. If you don't mind, yes! We would really appreciate it," JJ replied gratefully.
"What about you, pretty boy? Got any plans?" Morgan playfully mussed up Spencer's hair.
"Well… I…” He cleared his throat. "I, um… I actually do have a date," Spencer stammered, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.
"A date, Reid? Come on, spill the details. What's her name?" Morgan proceeded to probe.
“It's a blind date, so I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.” Spencer spoke with a faint smile.
As I learned about Spencer's date, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the sheer coincidence—both of us had blind dates on Valentine's Day. What were the odds?
Then it hit me, and as much as I tried to dismiss it, there was a subtle pang of envy that Spencer also had a date. I understood the irony of feeling jealous while I was also going on a blind date this weekend.
Earlier that week, my friend from the previous division I worked in—International Affairs and Counterterrorism—set me up with a guy. According to him, this guy was perfect for me—smart, kind, and seemingly attuned to my taste. So, I've decided to give it a shot and go on this date. It was Valentine's Day after all. So yes, I was also going on a date, and I acknowledged how contradictory it sounded to feel envious of Spencer's date. Nevertheless, a twinge of jealousy lingered.
Yet, in the grand scheme, I genuinely wished for Spencer to have a fantastic time this weekend. After all, we were nothing more than friends, and his happiness was something I truly valued.
Morgan, with a playful glint in his eye, turned his attention to me and chimed, "Alright, Reid's stepping into the world of romance, so what's the deal, Y/N? Any Valentine's plans on your agenda?"
"No, I don't really have plans. It'll be a normal weekend for me." I spoke with a smile, gently sidestepping Morgan's inquiry. I preferred to keep certain aspects of my life private, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
Saturday night came around pretty quickly.
I chose a simple red dress and black stilettos for the occasion—it was Valentine's Day, after all, and opportunities for dates were not a frequent occurrence for me. Since joining the FBI, I haven't had many opportunities to look like this. Typically reserved for pantsuits and white shirts, it was refreshing to see myself look so put-together.
What awaited me on this evening could be a mistake or, just maybe, the start of something unexpectedly wonderful. Despite the flutter of reservations in my stomach, I resolved to push through the uncertainty.
Before stepping inside, I paused at the entrance, reminding myself to take a deep breath; it was just a date after all—no need to be nervous. The restaurant, my absolute favorite, bore the name "Bella Luna," renowned for its delectable pastas. It had become my go-to spot for a delightful meal, offering a perfect blend of cozy ambiance and culinary excellence.
My friend, the mastermind behind this blind date, had given the gentleman a specific directive: reserve the table with a view of the river—my favorite spot in the house. This strategic move not only catered to my preferences but also had the practical benefit of simplifying the identification of my date.
As I stood by the entrance, lost in my thoughts, I almost jumped, caught by surprise, as someone bumped into me. "Hey, where were you goi..."
“Y/N! Hi!” His eyes were widening with surprise as he recognized me.
“Spencer! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same thing. Didn’t you say you didn’t have plans?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.
"Yeah!" I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, decided to give in to the Valentine's Day spirit, I suppose." Spencer chuckled softly, his warm demeanor putting me at ease.
"How are you anyway, feeling good about your blind date?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his well-being.
"To be honest," he admitted, "I'm actually kind of nervous."
"What? Why?"
He hesitated before sharing, "What if she doesn't like me?"
"Why wouldn't she like you?" The words left my mouth so fast, a testament to my incomprehension of how someone could not like the guy standing before me.
"Because I'm weird. I slouch; my hair's too long; my tie's perpetually crooked." His words were almost a whisper, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.
I smiled softly, reaching  my hands to fix his crooked tie. "Here, your tie is now straight. And Spencer, you're not weird; you look really good tonight. I think you'll do very well."
He smiled softly, thanking me, and said, "Well, you do too! You look very beautiful tonight, Y/N.” My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. He blushed slightly before adding, “I should really get going. I don't want to be late for my date.”
“Go get him, tiger,” I encouraged with a smile as I stayed behind, watching him leave.
Fuck, he looked so good; his dark blue suit fit him in all the right places. Though not a radical departure from his usual attire, the effort put into his appearance fueled my jealousy. The realization that he was heading on a date with someone else lingered in my thoughts, intensifying the sting.
To make matters worse, we´re at the same restaurant, and I would have to endure the evening watching him, attempting to engage in my own date while inwardly yearning for his company.
The challenge would be to keep my eyes from straying towards him, wishing the girl by his side was me.
Shaking my head to dispel thoughts of Spencer, I took a deep breath before entering the restaurant. I traversed the restaurant, consciously keeping my head down until I arrived at the table with the view of the river, and it was only then that I allowed myself to look around.
To my surprise, when I looked at the table, I found Spencer sitting there.
Confusion clouded my mind as I stood there, staring at Spencer, seated at the table, facing away from me. Disbelief hung in the air like a heavy fog. This had to be a misunderstanding; it couldn't be Spencer. My friend John specifically directed the blind date; he arranged for me to sit at this table, but Spencer was here.
The possibilities raced through my mind like a whirlwind of uncertainty. Did the receptionist make an error? Could there be another table with a view of the river where they seated my actual blind date? Could this guy look a lot like Spencer from behind? My thoughts spiraled into a maze of questions, each more perplexing than the last. I was caught in a web of doubt, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
Could Spencer and John know each other? How would they even know each other? Although we all work at the FBI, they work in totally different divisions.
As I approached the table, just a few feet away, I confirmed my suspicion: it was him—Spencer. Even though he wasn't facing me, I recognized his curls, almost catching a whiff of his distinctive perfume. It was undeniably him. How did this happen?
My heels clacked on the ground, a sound that drew Spencer's attention. His gaze shifted, expecting another woman, preparing for a polite greeting. "Hi, nice to meet y…” His words now caught in his throat.
As I pulled the chair and sat down in front of him, he halted his movements, confusion etched on his face. It seemed like he was ready to stand up, perhaps shake hands, and greet another person. But as he realized it was me, his expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment.
"Y/N, what is going on?" Spencer asked, his face a mix of confusion and concern as he settled back into his chair.
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "How do you know John Watters, Jonathan Watters?" I questioned, peering at him with an intense gaze.
"What? What do you mean, Y/N?" Spencer replied, clearly confused by the sudden turn of events.
"Spencer, how do you know John?" I repeated, my eyes locked onto his, seeking an explanation for the unexpected twist in our supposed blind date.
"John Watters and I play chess in the park. We met a couple of months ago, and now we play together regularly," Spencer explained, his confusion still evident in his expression. “Y/N, what is going on?” he added, his brow furrowing in concern.
“Spencer…” I began, a faint smile creeping onto my face as it reddened, my hands immediately meeting my face. It dawned on me; John had set us both up, and it seemed he might not have known Spencer and I already knew each other.
I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes widening. He seemed to have a eureka moment. "Do you know him?" he asked, his tone still a little unsure. I only nodded, my faint smile hidden behind my fingers, covering how embarrassed I was.
Then Spencer fired questions left and right. "What? How do you know John?” He set you up with me. Like… did you know? You wanted to have a date with me and asked him to do it? I mean, I have talked…." He was blushing like crazy, so I decided to interrupt.
"No, No... I mean, yes, but..." I stumbled on my words as I tried to answer. "I do know John, yes, but I didn't know he set us up... But yes, I wouldn't... I wouldn’t mind a date with you." The last part slipped my tongue way too quickly, the confession escaping my lips.
"Are you serious? A date with me?" He sounded excited but mostly surprised.
"I mean, we're already here, so we might as well do it. He clearly thought we were a good pair," I offered, keeping my head down. My face felt hot, and I was smiling like a stupid little kid.
“I can't believe this; I can't believe this is happening. You don't know how long I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, and now this is happening." His head fell back as he inhaled deeply. “Is this real? Can you pinch me, Y/N? You look so pretty, so beautiful. I can't believe this is actually happening. I must be dreaming." His excitement was palpable, and his gaze was fixed on me with a mix of joy and disbelief.
“You're definitely awake; this is real!” I reached out my hand to him and held his hand. “See, this is real—a very strange coincidence, but undeniably real.”
The evening unfolded gracefully. Spencer took my recommendation, and we ordered the Carbonara, complemented by a shared bottle of Cabernet. I couldn't help but savor the moments when our laughter harmonized, creating a melody of shared joy. A subtle warmth spread across our faces, not just from the ambiance but also from the wine. Our laughter became a touch more carefree, perhaps a little tipsy, adding an extra layer of delight to the evening. The restaurant seemed to fade into the background as we continued to enjoy each other’s company.
As the plates were cleared away and the restaurant emptied out, Spencer's gaze remained locked on mine. We sat in silence for a little bit as a warm feeling settled, enjoying the lingering aura of the evening. Spencer smiled softly, leaning closer to me and taking my hands in his. "Let me walk you home," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, and I'd love to spend more time with you."
As we stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights played on the surface of the river, casting a gentle glow on our path. Spencer and I began to stroll along the riverbank towards my apartment. The soft murmur of the water provided a soothing background to our conversation, and amidst our banter, our attention was drawn to an old lady with a basket of roses.
"Hello there," the old lady said, greeting Spencer with a twinkle in her eye. "Would you like to buy a rose for your beautiful girlfriend?"
"Oh, but I'm not his girlf..." Before I could clarify, Spencer, wearing a confident smile, chimed in, "Yet..." He told the sweet lady "So yes, I would love to buy her a rose." He turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes.
The old lady chuckled warmly. "Here you go, young man, a rose for your not-yet-girlfriend. May your love bloom as beautifully as this rose," she said, handing the vibrant flower to Spencer.
I thanked him as he handed me the rose, appreciating the beautiful gesture. We then continued our walk, the soft glow of the city lights guiding our way.
"So, a rose for the 'not-yet-girlfriend'," I teased, a playful smile on my lips.
"Well," he began, "I thought a rose might be a good start, but who's to say what the future holds?"
"Fair enough," I replied, a teasing glint in my eye. "A rose is a good start but what's your plan for the rest of our 'not-yet' journey?"
"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I won't disappoint you, that's for sure."
I felt a subtle warmth spread—a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Is that so?" I replied with a playful glint in my eye. "I guess I'll have to wait and see what surprises you have in store.”
As we continued our walk to my apartment and reached my doorstep, the night seemed to invite us to linger a little longer.
"I had a lot of fun, Y/N. I regretted every moment we weren't doing this sooner," Spencer confessed.
"I loved this night too, Spencer," I began, a genuine warmth in my voice. "This is not how I imagined my night ending at all; I definitely never expected you to be my blind date."
"I just can't believe this happened. Who would have thought you would go on a date with me?" His soft hand reached for mine; his touch was warm and inviting.
"Well, Jonathan apparently did," I laughed, the surreal nature of the evening sinking in.
"Of course, he thinks I want to date you. I talk about you all the time..." Spencer shyly admitted, his gaze avoiding mine.
"Wait! You talk about me?" My voice lifted with happiness.
"Well, I just tell him about my day... and how I love being by your side. You're so understanding, always listening to me. Your attentive gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and your eyes, Y/N, they sparkle so beautifully. And your smile—oh, it's the prettiest I've ever seen." His words were tender, and his brown eyes never left mine. "Jonathan never told me he knew you; I guess he sensed I was too scared to act upon my feelings and took matters in to his own hands." He chuckled. "And now you're here, and we went on this date—a wonderful date, may I add—and you look absolutely stunning."
As Spencer's words lingered in the quiet night, I felt a soft warmth enveloping us and an unspoken connection deepening.
"I would really to kiss you." He whisperd. His gaze held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability, mirroring the sentiments that resonated within me.
"You know what, Spence?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. "I'd really like that too."
His eyes brightened with joy, and as if a shared understanding passed between us, he leaned in slowly. His hands cradled my face, creating an intimate connection as he closed the remaining space between us. The world around us faded into a soft blur as our lips finally met.
The kiss was tender, his lips warm and inviting, and the sensation sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
As we pulled away, a shared smile painted across our faces, our foreheads pressed together in a moment of quiet closeness.
"Wow," Spencer whispered.
"Wow indeed," I replied, my heart echoing the sentiment.
"I've been waiting so long to do this," he said, kissing me again, this time with more force and desire.
The kiss deepened, his lips pressing against mine with a newfound intensity, fueled by the longing we had both harbored for so long. It was a fusion of heat and tenderness, with each movement deliberate and purposeful.
His hands, which had cradled my face so gently before, now moved with a purpose, exploring the contours of my back and waist. The taste of him was intoxicating—a blend of warmth and desire that left me breathless.
"Spencer," I began, feeling our breaths mingle. "Would you like to come in?
Spencer's eyes darkened in response, his nod signaling his agreement.
As the door shut behind us, I carefully placed the rose he gave me on a small side table by the entrance, wanting to preserve the sweet gesture. Spencer, without saying a word, pulled me against him again.
I guided us through the familiar space of my home with an urgency that spoke of unspoken desires. As we reached the bedroom, our bodies entwined again.
I laid back on the bed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. Spencer's body was right above mine, and our lips met in a hot, messy kiss. It was like everything else melted away, and all that was left was us in this moment. I could feel the heat of his body on top of mine, and the rush of intimacy was palpable. I wanted this moment to last forever, clinging tight to his every touch.
Spencer's hands glided along the curves of my body, caressing me with an intimacy that left me wanting more. His lips left mine to roam lower, descending slowly towards my breasts. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my chest.
Spencer's voice broke through the intensity. "Are you sure?"
A smile played on my lips as I whispered, "Yes, please Spence."
The sudden touch of his finger on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slowly drifted down my shoulder and pulled the strap of my dress down. As my nipple became exposed, he kissed it gently, sending a wave of arousal through my body.
He looked so pretty like this; his smooth hand cradled my breast as his lips left soft kisses. His slow hums of satisfaction were accompanied by the thrusts of his hips against my clothed core.
Sensing the escalating desire between us, Spencer then took the initiative, smoothly pulling my dress off. I felt exposed as his hands traveled down my body, lowering himself and planting soft kisses on my stomach.
"You look so beautiful and you smell so good." His whispers of admiration filled the air. "I bet you taste even better." He placed a soft kiss where I wanted him the most. I moaned at his words, not expecting them.
He then proceeded to slide my panties to the side, slowly licking a long stripe. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent shivers through my body, and the anticipation built with every teasing touch.
“Fuck, it's even better than I imagined." His words were muffled as he spoke from between my legs, looking into my eyes. My moans filled the room, joined by the sound of his mouth devouring my wetness. My hands met his hair as I pulled him closer by his curls.
"Spencer..." My voice caught in my throat.
"What, baby?" The enduring name leaving his lips made my heart flutter.
"I need you," I pleaded.
"Need me to what, baby?" His middle finger breached my entrance. "Use your words," he said, caressing my opening. The sensation of his finger chills of pleasure down my spine. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and I could feel a rush of arousal building inside me. "I need you inside, please," I begged, moving my body against his.
Sensing my urge, he stood, undressing me and then himself. "Since you asked so nicely," he lined up and slowly sank in, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft moan muffled on my neck.
Our kisses were slow and passionate, our lips brushing against each other with every movement of our bodies. His hands caressed my body, sending a wave of pleasure through me that only increased with every thrust.
Each rhythmic movement brought us closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each caress and whispered word. "You feel so good, Y/N; it’s like you were made for me." Spencer's voice was laden with desire as I moaned into his lips.
The intensity grew with each passionate thrust, and we were both lost in a world of pleasure. Our bodies were tightly intertwined, pressed up against each other as we let our emotions take over. Our moans filled the room, and our breathing became shallow and fast. We both wanted this moment to last forever, clinging to each other with all the strength we could muster.
"Spencer, I can't,” I cried out.
"Can you hold it for me, just a little, pretty girl?" he said, looking into my eyes. My eyes fluttered, closing at the words.
"No, no, no, keep your eyes on me," he said. "Yes, just like that." He kept thrusting with force, and I couldn't take it anymore. “I want to see your pretty face as you cum, baby.”
"Spence... please inside." I begged him, and that was all it took. I didn't have to wait any longer. The tension in the room reached its peak, and I could feel him release, his climax echoing mine.
Our bodies trembled together in the aftermath, the shared intensity of the moment lingering in the air. The room was filled with the sounds of our rapid breaths and the soft rustle of sheets as we came down from the euphoric high.
As we lay there, a playful smile crossed Spencer's lips. "So, about that 'not-yet-girlfriend' situation..." he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I chuckled, tracing circles on his chest. "Well, it looks like we just fast-tracked that process."
Spencer grinned. "Guess we skipped a few steps."
I gave him a playful look. "Steps? Who needs steps when you have Jonathan playing cupid?”.
Spencer gave a playful shrug. "Well, I'll be sure to thank the man.”
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ameliathornromance · 8 months
Text
A Whole New World - Short Orc Romance
- When your Orc found you, you were in your Church with your other sisters of the cloth.
- They all prayed to the Gods.
- Gods that they wished would come, strike down these beasts who threatened your lives.
- The Church doors were difficult to get open, but your Orc did it. The doors burst off the hinges, crashed into the pews.
-Your sisters all took off running, leaving you behind.
- You tried to follow, but ended up tripping over your robes, falling on your front.
- Your Orc stormed towards you.
- You try to scramble away, desperate to escape your oncoming death, but it was no use.
- He was too big, too quick.
- You close your eyes, expecting a bludgeoning with that horrifying club he had clutched in his hand. You raise your hands above your head and cower for your life.
- Any moment now, any second now, he is going to bring that club down on your head.
- But nothing came.
“They left you.”
You squint open your eyes. Between your arms, you stare at him. His expression pained, his endless black eyes staring at you with… sympathy? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing; An orc, sympathetic?
The club slips from his hand, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Stooping to one knee, he bends down to your height. “Those who you called sisters have abandoned you.”
You dare to look around. Hoping to see a sister who was hiding behind the altar, a pillar, or anywhere. With some kind of weapon in hand, anything to help you get out of this situation alive. But it was barren. Empty of any kind of life whom had been begging for salvation.
He was right. They had. “To escape you, you who would kill me for praying for your death.” You hiss back at him. You didn’t dare believe him, wanted to retreat back into the collective opinion about Orcs. But it was too obvious to ignore his logic.
The words were harsh and sharp, the Orc did not flinch. “And who is here for you, now that I have come to take the lives of your people? Your Gods? Who you pray to, but have done nothing to protect you or your people from the raid of my brethren? Did not even force a fellow sister to stay and share in your fate, so that you would not have to go into the night alone?”
The words rang through you like the Church bell at the top of the steeple. Rooted you to the ground, the world you had built to protect yourself from the truth, crashed and burned. You couldn’t deny that he was wrong. Your so-called ‘sisters’ had abandoned you. Left you here at the mercy of this monster, not one of them had turned to try and help you back up.
A sigh escapes the Orc. “In our ranks,” he says, “we do not abandon our own.” The hand that held the club outstretches toward you. “Come. No one deserves to left alone.”
Anger had risen, spiteful and raging within your very soul. At that moment, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, the Orc was right. Your mind drifts back to what the Church had taught you about them, the Orcs. That they were monsters, born from the core of the Earth. Where Magma bubbled and boiled, where nothing should be able to survive. How your Church commanded that your sisters swear loyalty to one another. To protect each other and Holy Ground from defamation of the filth that rose from the Earth. To do it together. To die together, if it came to it.
The Gods had abandoned you and your sisters had left you. You gave your life for Gods who did not care.
This Orc, monster of the deep Earth, had shown you more decency in that moment. Than Gods or humans had done in the time you had been at the Church. Spite riddles through you. You take his calloused, rough hand.
- Travelling in an Orc caravan was not easy. They were loud, smelly and stupid. All except the Orc who had come for you.
- He was quiet, preferred to watch his others fight, drink and be rowdy with one another.
- At first, the rest of the group had ostracised you. “Humans are no good.” They would snarl. “Weak and useless.” But, after repairing a few of their clothes and cooking meals, they warmed up to you.
- They were kind to you... In their own way. Like the time when they left a whole dead sheeps’ carcass in your tent. The note left with it read: “For dinner this eve. Make or else.” Panicked, you went to find your Orc friend, who explained that this wasn't a threat. Far from it, as a matter of fact.
- They spoke to you that way because they spoke to their own like that.
- "My bretheren see you as one of us now." Rovi - the name of your Orc friend - explained.
“They’re quite the group.” You observe. You had thrown out your robes as soon as you could and replaced them with something that was far from Holy. Trousers and tunic that you had sewed together yourself and hair let down to your waist.
“Indeed.” Rovi agrees. He slurps the rest of the soup from his bowl. Fire crackles in the fire pit, the nights sky blankets the whole group of Orcs who proceed to play fight and snarl. This was apparently, a common pass time for Orcs, who beat the living snot out of each other as a show of comradery. “They will never hurt each other though.” Rovi assures you, putting the bowl beside himself. “We do not do that, unlike humans who abandon their own, kill their friends and steal for survival.”
You did not judge his impression of humans. Surely, you’d feel the same way too if a bunch of humans started chasing after you, desperate for your head. One thing, you could not understand for the life of you, was why Rovi had taken you in. Despite his obvious dislike for humans, he still offered you a place in his camp. Maybe It was as simple as he said: “No one deserves to left alone.”
Biting your lip, you tell him, “thank you for inviting me into your camp.” You meant it. If it weren’t for him, you would still be slaving away for Gods who had no interest in you.
Your Orc huffs, “better than being with humans who abandon their own.” He looks away from you. Back to the jeering crowd of his fellows, watching them clasp each others hands and pat each other on the back. A show of congratulations on a good fight.
- Your romance with him started when there was when you returned to your own tent.
- On your bed, was a small pouch of gold.
- Being in an Orc camp, you observed their customs and cultures. Often, when courting others, they would leave a small bag of gold in their crushes living quarters. A sweet, but simple gesture. Orcs loved their gold, even if they did not flaunt it. To do so was, frowned upon and compared to the Lords who wore those stupid puffy trousers and powdered tall wigs.
- You did not know who the pouch had come from, but you immediately thought that your Orc friend had been the one to do it. But you had to double check. And so you would gauge his reaction to it.
“Look!” You rushed over to him. Waving the bag of gold up to him, you beamed, “someone likes me! I found it on my bed when I got back from washing in the river!”
Rovi, returning from a hunt and carrying a, poor dead stag on his back, looked at you, then the open bag, gold glittering in the sunlight. “Was there a note?” He asked you, dropping it to the ground.
The rest of the hunting party grumbled annoyances at him, dragging the meat away. Rovi ignored them.
“No, there was just this bag. I wonder who it could be!” Your eyes dart across the camp, looking to the cooks, who were now busy skinning the stag, to other Orcs who were busy tending to a fire and talking in their mother tongue and to those who were busy trying to read from tiny human books they stole from villages.
“Best not to think about it,” Your Orc mutters. “Small pouch of gold like that? They can’t be that interested in you.” And with that, he lumbers off.
You frown. You thought for sure it would be him. His reaction made your heart sink in your chest. Sighing, you walk back to your tent, tossing the small bag onto your desk and clambering onto your bed. You sigh. If it was not him, then who could it be?
Unfortunately, you had noted that there was a fair amount of guess work that had to happen when it came to this as well. Usually, it went over well – the admired knew who their admirer was, and they got together. But, in rare instances, where the admired got their guess wrong: The admirer would challenge the guessed person to combat and they would fight. Not a play fight. An actual battle.
It was rare, but not rare enough to avoid being discussed by the rest of the camp. You had never seen one yourself, and if you could, you’d like to avoid it at all costs. You like everyone in the camp, care about them all , you didn’t want anyone to get hurt. One had to assume, that if two Orcs vied for the same person... You didn't want to think about that.
- You had thought long and hard about who it could be. You had become close with everyone in the camp, it wasn’t like there was anyone who stuck out to you.
- Truth be told, disappointment stirred in your gut.
- You had hoped that it would Rovi who had been the one to give you that pouch. He was kind and caring, even if he was a bit rough around the edges. He gave you a whole new life, it seemed almost right that you would fall for him. After he was able to show you the rest of the world, when you may have stayed with the Church for the rest of your days.
- The next day, you went to go and do what you had to do by the river, coming back to your tent and your jaw dropping.
A pouch – you couldn’t even call it that – a sack full of gold had spilled out onto the floor in your tent. You wondered if you’d gone mad. Startling you, a cheer erupted from outside your tent. What the Hell is going on?!
You ran out and into the main area, where a ring of tall, hulking Orcs had formed. You stood on tip-toes, jumped to try and get a look at the brawl that had just started, but had to resolve to pushing your way through the rambunctious crowd. Once the other Orcs realize who it was trying to get through, they bark at their others: “Get out of the way! Let (Y/N) through! It about her after all!”
About you? More desperate now, you finally found your way to the edge of the ring just in time to see Rovi swing a right hook, directly into the jaw of his other. The other Orc goes flying, his landing in front of you sent shudders through the floor. You recognise him immediately as Barrow, a chef who you often spent time with in the kitchens. He was an Orc of very little brains, but he made a mean rabbit stew. He made some inappropriate jokes to you occasionally, but apart from that, he kept mostly to himself.
“That’s all you offer?!” Rovi roars, “pathetic!”
Barrow was out cold, your Orc friend’s chest heaving up and down. “What’s going on?!” You shout over the jeering Orc crowd.
Rovi’s face, goes from a furious, angry scowl, to soft at the sight of you. Rather harshly, he kicks Barrow out of the way and kneels down to your height. “I’m afraid I haven’t been up front with you,” he begins.
The rest of the Orcs are still watching, but now quiet. Your ears rang with the silence, so used to their loud and obnoxious shouting that it was unsettling to hear silence.
“I know that humans are more upfront with their courting practices so allow me to conform to your culture… And I couldn’t allow Barrow to offer you something so insignificant and small as one pouch of gold… So... Would you be mine, (Y/N)?”
Stunned into silence, you bit your lip. Smiling, you ask, “so the extra large sack of gold was you?”
Rovi grumbles and looks away from, a small dusting tinge dusting his orc green cheeks. “Well, I had to do something…” He mumbles. “I had to do something to show you I am superior… if this one hadn’t beaten me to it.” He shoots another dirty look at Barrow, who seems to have awoken in a daze. “The combat was necessary to tell him to back off.”
“I think the gold was more than enough.” You wrap your arms around his muscular shoulders and pull him close. “Thank you for everything, Rovi.”
He freezes for a moment and then returns your gesture, holding you tenderly in that moment. The both of you don’t even hear the crowd of Orcs erupting with cheers and shouts of happiness.
It’s just the two of you. And that’s all that matters in that moment.
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sunnami · 3 months
Text
the marauders as. . . whatever these love languages are (ii).
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“i’m so fucking tired, please god just let me rest for five minutes.”
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍 sees a monster staring back at him in the mirror—you tell him that you see a kind, gentle soul deserving of all things beautiful. he wants to bury himself beneath the ground, where the earthworms burrow and the primroses bloom one day. the mornings after the full moon are always the hardest. a new scar to his growing collection and fresh blood spilt on his wretched hands. he is a monster and there is no better word to define him than that. so why do you burst into his room, much like the morning sun—without a care for the moon’s sorrow—and smile at him like you actually care?
he doesn’t believe you’re real—only a mirage sent by his darkest nightmares to torment him. yet, how can torture feel so delicate and forgiving? still, you insist on seeking him out despite knowing he is a cursed man. you see the bloodied tips of his fingers where claws have grown the night prior, the crimson smudges in the corner of his mouth, teeth stained with the lives of innocent creatures he’s taken. he is a killer, and yet you stay by his side.
don’t you see?
he’s trying to keep you safe by pushing you away. one day, you’ll tire of him just as he has grown weary of living in his own skin.
why do you look at him as though he cannot rip you apart, limb by limb, with just a flick of his hand?
“because you are remus lupin,” you say, a cruel whisper in his ear, holding his head close to your heart, and shouldering his burdens, aches, and pains. “i will be here when the sun rises, and i will be with you until the earth knows the taste of our existence, when the vines creep over our legs and arms, and until you understand that love is not strong enough to explain why my soul calls out to yours.”
ah, remus sees it now.
he needs you just as a canary needs their wings to fly. his tears soak the fabric of your shirt, and you hold him closer until he feels you—and only you. you are the reason his heart still endures, hammering inside his ribcage as though it knows you are nearby. his body is but ruined flesh—even so, if the gods think he is deserving to bear witness to the innocence in your eyes, then perhaps he is not so much of a monster as he thought.
please, he begs to all the deities listening, do not take this pure creature away from me.
he would never ask you to share the weight of his damned fate, but he grieves at the thought of losing you—for remus might know true death, then.
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a/n: did i go overboard with this one? probably. . .
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velvette-creations · 2 months
Text
Infinite Hope
House of the Dragon: Addam of Hull x fem!reader, Hugh Hammer+ fem!reader (platonic)
Rating: Teen 
WC: 2.4 k 
Prompt: Words of Affirmation for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)
Warnings: Death (if Ulf has no haters I’m dead), canon smudging
Summary: You and your Uncle arrive at Dragonstone, in hopes of claiming a dragon and you bond with Addam
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Hunger pains gnaw deep in your belly as you slowly slip on the broth to satiate it. Food is scarcer these days, and whatever you come across, you give willingly give to your Uncle Hugh and his wife, Kat, to nourish themselves and your sickly niece. Yet it is proven all for naught as she passes away within a sennight. What sort of king allows his people to starve? You set the empty clay bowl aside and stare down at your dirty hands as salty tears splash onto the mottled flesh. You hunger for more than food to fill your aching belly. This could not be the life your grandmother had imagined for you.
~~
You once had a mother with the same burgundy eyes and sienna skin you possessed and a father from your distant memories with hair of spun silver. When they died, you were placed in your grandmother’s care, who had the same silvery hair. She had been all you had known until you met your Uncle. As the past blurred in your mind, you wondered if your father had looked just like him. Saera was slowly succumbing to the passage of time, using a cane as an aide to get around the pleasure house she owned. You heard the whisperings��that your mother, too, had been a whore, and that is why your grandmother had taken pity on you. Might you follow in their footsteps one day? Perhaps there were worse fates.
The light is dull in Saera’s violet eyes. Once a great beauty, not even she could escape the weathered hands of times. It is harder for her to breathe these days, and she does not leave the bed.
“Please, Hugh, look after her,” she whispers as she holds her son’s hand.
“I promise, Mother,” he says solemnly as he slowly casts his gaze over to you in the corner, your knees pulled tightly to your chest as you try to hide your weeping.
“Take her to King’s Landing, give her a good life, one befitting of a Targaryen. Bastard or not, you hold noble blood, Hugh,” she said, her voice strained and hard as she pressed a bag of coin into his rough hands.
She passed that evening as Hugh held you in his arms. He kept his promise and took you to King’s Landing by ship, but a good life was hard to find there. You began to wish he had left you behind.
~~
You glance up as Hugh enters your small abode, and there is an odd look in his eyes. Though perhaps it is merely the weight of his daughter’s death still lingering. 
“What is it?” you question, rising to your feet and brushing off the dust that clings to your filthy, tattered dress.
“Queen Rhaenyra has summoned those with Targaryen blood to test their claim to a dragon,” he explains, and hope pounds in your chest, a feeling so long dead that the ignition of it feels foreign. “I am hoping you will accompany me to Dragonstone, niece. You have as much of a chance as I do. Can you imagine?”
“Claiming a dragon? I remember the stories,” you smile.
“As do I. She wanted a better life for you, and I failed in such respect, but maybe the tide is turning in our favor.”
“You did your best, Uncle,” you assure him, resting your hands on his massive shoulders.
“So you will come with me?”
“Indeed I will.”
~~
You wander the halls of Dragonstone, unable to sleep. You had taken advantage of the warm bath offered, your skin scrubbed clean, the faint hint of rose clinging to it, and your silver hair combed and braided. One could certainly get used to this. Your hands trace along the ancient glyphs carved into the stone walls, wondering what they said. You had once heard your grandmother speak in a tongue you did not understand. Was this the same one? It was strange not knowing of your histories.
“Can’t sleep?” a voice asks, and you nearly jump out of your skin, whirling around to face the person it came from.
“Afraid not,” you admit, approaching him slowly. There are a few smoldering torches in the braziers, allowing you a better look at his face. His smile is quite dazzling, and he reminds you of the home you left behind long ago.
“I am Addam,” he introduces, giving a slight nod of his head.
You tell him your name as you stand before him. The two of you walk side by side through the dimly lit halls.
“Have you laid claim to a dragon?” you ask.
“Seasmoke claimed me, truth be told. Nearly frightened me to death as he chased me. I thought my legs might give out from all the running.”
A smile breaks across your face as you glance up at him. “One cannot blame you. I think the first instinct when a dragon chases you would be to run, yet now you are his rider.”
“And I would assume you are here hoping for that as well.”
“To claim a dragon….would be everything to me. My grandmother was a Targaryen princess, banished by her wicked father of a King because she did not wish to abide by the traditional rules of women,” you explain.
“Goodness, I fear there is much I do not know of the Targaryens,” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“I only know the little my grandmother told me, and I’m certain some of it was biased, but I do not blame her for that. It seems cruel what her father did,” you reply, sitting with him on the stone steps as moonlight streams through the windows.
“Fathers are…rather complicated,” Addam sighs. You gently rest your hand on top of his, all too familiar with the complicated feelings of family.
“Do you happen to know where the kitchens are?” you ask after a moment of silence.
“I do, why?”
“I’m feeling rather peckish.” You could hardly believe the feast Rhaenyra had provided to those who answered her query. Part of you felt guilty for imbibing while those back home struggled, but you silently promised to help them when you could.
“Come then,” he grins, offering you his hand.
You take hold of him willingly, allowing him to whisk you off through the dark halls, laughter echoing off the walls. The apple is crisp under your teeth, bursting force a sweet nectar when you take a generous bite. You do not wish to be greedy, but how it soothes the hunger that still sits deep in your belly. Addam escorts you back to your room and places a kiss upon your cheek, making heat spread across your face. You never had time to entertain such notions, but you find yourself enjoying his company a great deal, even if only for a short span.
“May you be lucky in your endeavors tomorrow. Perhaps we will both be on dragonback soon,” he smiles before wishing you goodnight.
You snuggle under the warm duvet, saying a silent prayer that you and your Uncle are able to claim a dragon. Butterflies flap in your stomach as you brush your fingers across your cheek, feeling the lingering remains of Addam’s kiss. Finally,  you are able to sleep.
~~
Trepidation hangs heavy in the air as the group follows Queen Rhaenyra into the mouth of the dragon pit. As she approaches the edge, you move closer to Hugh as you try to swallow your fear.
“Naejot māzīs, Vermitos,” she speaks clearly, and your eyes widen as the Bronze Fury approaches. Nothing could have prepared you for the size of him. Hugh’s hand presses against yours, and fingers furl together as you squeeze him tightly. You both may very well die together today. How the queen’s hand rests on the enormous beast shows how much power she possesses as she demonstrates no fear.
A timid man approaches the great beast, and chaos soon erupts. Flames scorch through the air as people run screaming. Hugh keeps hold of your hand, pulling you behind him and keeping you out of harm’s way. Fire singes your skin and hair, and you wish to scream, but nothing comes out; you just keep moving as your life depends on it, for it truly does. Hugh moves you behind a large rock next to a frightened woman, and you shake as the dragon approaches. Pain pulsates on the back of your neck, and you press your hand there to feel rough, tender skin. You are burned.
The three of you run, with Hugh pushing you toward an opening that leads deeper into the pits as he distracts Vermithor from annihilating the woman. You press against the stone, peering out as you watch the Bronze Fury lower before your Uncle. He has done it; he has done it! A man rushes past you, tripping along the way in terror as he descends toward the opening. You follow after him, taking hold of a torch as you slowly navigate down the rocks. 
“Wait!” you call after him, rushing to keep up with him as screams fill your ears in the aftermath of Vermithor’s destruction. You collide with the back of him as he stands dead in his tracks. “What are you doing?” you hiss and follow his gaze, clamping your hand over your mouth as you spot the great silver beast blending in with the stones of the cave.
The man pushes you away, stumbling about in fear as his booted foot sinks through a slimy mound. The beast lifts its head and crawls closer as you crouch in front of the mound, marveling at the glittering scaled eggs nestled safely inside, unscathed and unarmed. You placed your torch down and cradle one in your hands. You close your eyes and wince as you hear the man’s scream before feeling the heated blast of the dragon’s flame. When you turn, cradling the egg against your chest, you are unsurprised to find his body gone. It’s become all too apparent that dragons prefer to roast their meat before eating.
The dragon’s head tilts in your direction, eyes slowly blinking as it moves closer. If you are to die, you will not do so as a coward, and you remain firmly in place as you lift your gaze upward. 
“Your eggs are safe, it seems,” you murmur, feeling foolish talking to an ancient creature as such, and lift the egg toward the dragon’s muzzle. The golden eyes close as the beast nudges the egg, emitting a low bray.
The dragon’s head lowers before you, sizing you up before letting out a heated breath that nearly shakes you from your spot. Its muzzle presses against your belly, and with a trembling hand, you caress the beast’s curved horns. Your wits slowly return, and you realize this is the dragon your grandmother oft spoke of—the one her mother, Queen Alysanne, rode, Silverwiing.
You return the egg to its safe, albeit semi-destroyed nest and are startled when Silverwing’s muzzle bumps into your back, causing you to shift forward.
“You are certainly playful. Have you been lonely?” you hum, turning to pet her once more as she lowers her body and extends her wing. You take this as an invitation to mount her.
Your laughs ring through the air as you climb onto the dragon’s back, sinking into the saddle and taking hold of the reigns. Power surges through your veins. Silverwing climbs among the rocks before slithering through the cave's opening. You duck your head, and soon, she lifts you into the air. You shake but hold tightly to the reigns as she soars over Dragonstone. You have done it!
Silverwing lands on the beach, and your Uncle rushes to lift you in his arms, twirling you around as he did when you were a small girl. You cling to his neck as tears stream down your face. Your feet barely touch the ground before finding yourself in Addam’s embrace. His hand slips over the back of your neck, and you wince.
“Are you injured?” he asks, concern in his voice.
“Tis but a burn,” you brush off, the pain dulling, but you are sent to the Maester, an ointment applied to the area. It will scar, but it does not bother you. You wear it as a badge of honor.
Celebration rings through Dragonstone, and you indulge in the sweet Arbor gold, having never tasted such a delicious wine before. Minstrels fill the air with music, and you dance with Addam. His lips meld with yours, and time seemingly stands still. His kiss is sweet yet strong, and you enjoy it very much. It makes heat stir deep in your belly. You will invite him into your bed one night when your mind is clearer, but for now, you enjoy the heated kiss and the feeling of his large hands on your waist.
As the days pass on Dragonstone with Prince Jaecaerys and Lady Baela instructing you in dragon riding, you feel caught in a dream. You learn to roll the High Valyrian commands off your tongue with ease. You enjoy taking to the sky with them and Addam, the four of you racing each other. Silverwing is slender and quick and likes to show off. Not that you fault her, she is a beauty hidden away for too long. Knighthood is bestowed upon Addam, and your uncle, and you couldn’t be prouder. You are also provided with crafted armor, coin, and training.
“Congratulations, it is well earned,” you smile at Addam, cupping his face.
“It means if I marry you, you will be a lady,” he grins. That blasted heat is again in your cheeks.
“And do you…wish to marry me?” you whisper, gazing into his dark eyes. Your thumb grazes across the smoothness of his mahogany cheek. He is finer than any prince you imagined in your dreams as a small girl.
“You have held my heart for a while,” he admits.
“I would be happy to marry you when you ask me properly, of course,” you grin, watching a vast smile crack across his face.
Queen Rhaenyra hosts your wedding on Dragonstone. You marry on the beaches, the sand between your toes, with Seasmoke and Silvering circling overhead. Your Uncle pulls you into a tight embrace.
“It seems to me you fulfilled your promise, Uncle. You have helped me to find the very best life,” you whisper as his tears spill onto the shoulder of your violet gown, a gift from the queen you serve loyally.
“We have helped each other, and now we fly on the dragons of our ancestors. We would have made Saera very proud.”
“I am proud of us, Uncle.”
Threats still loom in the distance, but for now, there is peace, and you will play your part in securing the throne for your queen. Your only thought for now is consummating your wedding night with your beloved husband.
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thelifeofchuckmovie · 17 days
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When it comes to ending the world, Stephen King is a repeat offender. He has brought life as we know it to a brutal conclusion several times over the decades, usually highlighting the cruelty and desperation that erupts among the last to go. But his 2020 story “The Life of Chuck” uses doomsday to evoke some unlikely sentiments: Wistfulness. Gratitude. Even joy.
The idea of creating an apocalyptic version of It’s a Wonderful Life is what led filmmaker Mike Flanagan to call dibs on the rights to the novella more than four years ago. The breakdown of society, extinction-level natural disasters, and the disintegration of reality itself is explored through the lens of one relatively meek and mild accountant, played by Tom Hiddleston, whose memories and choices are mysteriously connected to these tribulations. Retirement posters congratulating him on “39 great years” pop up everywhere. But who is this guy? What job does he do (or did he used to do)? And why does it matter so much to the fate of the world? This apparent nobody named Chuck Krantz has lived larger than anyone thought possible.
Having explored King country before in 2017’s Gerald’s Game and 2019’s The Shining sequel Doctor Sleep, Flanagan got involved after reading an early copy of “Chuck” before it was published in the collection If It Bleeds. The Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher creator produced the film independently, believing it might be too offbeat for risk-averse studios to greenlight. He even secured a waiver from the striking Hollywood guilds last year to move forward with the shoot while the rest of the industry was stuck in the work stoppage. Now he and Hiddleston are ready to reveal the finished version of The Life of Chuck as it heads to the upcoming Toronto International Film Festival, where it will screen for potential distributors.
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Among the skeptics about this adaptation was King himself, according to Flanagan. “His initial responses to me were a little like, ‘Oh, okay. Yeah. If you think that’s a movie…,’” he says. “He did say several times that he thought it would be a challenge to get it supported through traditional means.”
King has now seen the finished movie and no longer has doubts. He described it to Vanity Fair as “a happiness machine.”
“Well, he’s written something very tender and very wise,” Hiddleston says. “I think there is a great wisdom in the soul of the story, which is that it takes courage to hold on to what is good in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.”
Flanagan hopes others see it that way too, although the overpowering dread that begins the story may be more immediately relatable. “I’ve heard it said that every generation feels a little like the world is ending at some point, [but] I still feel like it’s different for us,” the 46-year-old filmmaker says with a mordant laugh. “Institutions we took for granted as propping up our society are failing left and right. Our politics have degraded spectacularly. The sense that it’s breaking down, that the world is moving on, has been increasingly palpable. When I talk to my parents or members of older generations who have been through their own turbulent times, the thing that strikes me is that they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is really bad.’”
But…it’s not entirely bad. And that’s the underlying message of The Life of Chuck as its various mysteries play out. “There’s no sense of terror in the way that King drew it,” Flanagan says. “Even as the world feels as though it’s ending, people become introspective, they reach into their past for loves that have left their lives for one reason or another. Strangers engage in open and fearless communication.”
It’s an indie-film variation on the big-budget cataclysm story. “A disaster movie has people meeting the end while running from tidal waves, and this story has people sitting quietly holding hands looking at the stars,” Flanagan says.
The key to it all is Chuck himself, although he doesn’t turn up onscreen until the second segment of the three-act story, which plays out in reverse chronological order.
The beginning is actually the end, as the whole world circles the drain. Caught in this spiral is Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave), a school teacher trying to apply logic to the planet’s troubles; Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) is his ex, a hospital worker determined to save everyone she can; Matthew Lillard (Scream) is a construction worker neighbor who finds zen amid the chaos; and Carl Lumbly (Alias), plays a funeral director who has dedicated his life to easing people through death.
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The end of the movie is actually the beginning, showing young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) when he was a boy being raised by his grandparents (Mia Sara of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Mark Hamill). The insight of these two—coupled with the otherworldly revelations he finds in an eerie room tucked into the peak of their Victorian home—help him learn to seek out bright spots when life is marred by sorrow and darkness.
In elementary school, young Chuck discovers some important things about himself thanks to guidance from a brusque dance instructor (Samantha Sloyan), and a kindhearted English teacher, played by Kate Siegel, who gives the boy (not to mention the audience) some important information that serves as a code breaker for the story's more cosmic puzzles.
As for the middle of the film: It’s a dance number. That’s when Hiddleston steps in.
Compounding the peculiarity of The Life of Chuck is the question: Why is this song and dance sequence so important? The answer is for the movie to reveal, but it matters a lot. “The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film,” Hiddleston says. “There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars. Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and deep connection.”
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Hiddleston shows the audience this single moment in the life of a buttoned-up fellow who somehow controls the destiny of the world. It’s not necessarily the most important day in his life, but it’s a memorable one involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon), a lovely stranger (played by Annalise Basso), and a fateful decision to cast aside caution and cut a rug. “It’s a reminder to do whatever it is that expresses whatever gives you that feeling of being alive,” Hiddleston says. “Whether it’s music or dancing or math or writing or creativity—do it. Do it now. Those moments are what you’ll remember.”
Flanagan considered casting a relative unknown as Chuck to “give the audience the experience of ‘Who the hell is this person?’” as the peculiar retirement signs begin to appear in the midst of the apocalypse. But he felt the promise of the Loki star would build more curiosity as the world falls apart. “You grow an enormous amount of anticipation to finally spend time with an actor like Tom, who can be a literal god in one story, and then an everyman in another,” Flanagan says.
A TikTok video of Hiddleston getting his groove on sealed the deal. “He had a completely unfiltered joy on his face,” Flanagan says. “He was a good dancer, but that wasn’t what struck me. I wasn’t amazed by the technique so much as the degree of happiness that was radiating off of him. The look on his face made me smile the same way I smiled reading that particular portion of the book.”
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The resulting scene was created in a month-long collaboration between Flanagan, Hiddleston, Basso, choreographer Mandy Moore (So You Think You Can Dance, and La La Land), and Gordon, a real-life percussionist who performs under the name the Pocket Queen. “Taylor was there for all of the dance choreography. She wrote that piece of music for that performance. They built it together,” Flanagan says.
Hiddleston rattles off the lists of influences: “I had to learn in six weeks the full regime of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.”
Precision was not the goal, exuberance was what they sought. “We need to always bear in mind that this man is an accountant. We needed this to be an earnest, escalating explosion of joy, and a remembrance of who he was,” Flanagan says. “It’s a chance to step back into the skin of his younger self, not caring that his feet are going to kill him the next day, not caring that he’s going to wake up with a horribly stiff neck.”
A surprising thing happened while shooting the scene over the course of several sweltering afternoons in the deep South. “I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”
The sequence begins awkwardly: Chuck is self-conscious as he first hears the busker’s rhythm while walking back from a banking conference. That feeling quickly gets shaken off. “Tom was very committed,” Flanagan says. “He was like, ‘If I look silly, that’s fine. As long as I look happy.’”
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Flanagan remembers being in a bad place when he first discovered “The Life of Chuck.” Then again, everybody was.
His copy of the manuscript arrived in March 2020. “That was just as the world shut down for COVID,” he says. “We had been a week away from starting principal photography on Midnight Mass in Vancouver and had fled across the border before it closed to make it back to the States. We were hunkered down in our homes and had no idea if this was going to last for two weeks or if this was going to last forever.”
With everything halted as the lockdown set in, Flanagan had plenty of time to do nothing but read. The new King book seemed like the perfect escape. Except…
“The first third of ‘The Life of Chuck’ just rattled me,” he recalls. “There’s no way he wrote this before the world ground to this bizarre halt—but he did. And the feeling of anxiety, and uncertainty, and that everything was falling apart came roaring out at me. I wasn’t sure I could finish it. It just felt too close to the anxiety I was feeling.” But he kept turning the pages. “By the end of it, I was in tears, and incredibly uplifted, and convinced I’d read maybe the best thing that he’d written in a decade. I just was floored by the thing,” Flanagan says. “So I fired off an email to him right away saying how much I loved the story, how incredible I thought it was, how meaningful, and important, and how it had really tattooed itself on my heart and said, ‘It’s the movie I want to make so that it’ll exist in the world for my kids.’”
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King’s response: Not so fast. Flanagan and his producing partner, Trevor Macy, had at that point secured the rights to King’s fantasy saga The Dark Tower through their company, Intrepid Pictures. The eight-book series is threaded throughout King’s other works, and adapting it was a massive undertaking that Flanagan is still working to make happen. Other filmmakers had either abandoned the project, were canceled midway through, or bombed miserably. The author didn’t want him to be distracted. “He doesn’t like to give the same filmmaker more than one thing, because it typically means one thing is not advancing at all,” Flanagan says. “He said, ‘Well, let’s focus on The Tower and I’ll try to keep this one available for you for later.’”
The quest to The Dark Tower remains a priority for Flanagan, but a number of disruptions to that epic undertaking led him to reapproach King last year about Chuck. Intrepid’s deal with Netflix, where they had created Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and other shows, had come to a close, and Intrepid signed a new development agreement with Amazon. That meant starting over on The Dark Tower. Meanwhile, the threat of a double-barreled strike by writers and actors was on the horizon, stalling nearly every major new project. The industry plunged into another production-halting lockdown, this time over contract impasses rather than a virus.
Since The Dark Tower was suddenly further off on the horizon, Flanagan saw a chance to make The Life of Chuck happen in the short term. “It’s so rare that I get to approach any project that just has not an ounce of cynicism to it. I just really believed in this thing,” he says. “But it was also clear that we would have an incredibly uphill battle bringing the story to any major studio. They would try to make it as familiar as possible, instead of leaning into what makes it so different.”
King gave Flanagan his blessing to proceed. “I was off like a shot,” the filmmaker says. “I think I turned in the draft to him before he got around to sending the formal agreement.”
For everyone involved, The Life of Chuck became a bright spot in an otherwise dismal time, which matches the theme of the film. “There is a profound optimism in this story,” Hiddleston says. “As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.”
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hollyoongs · 24 days
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#LETENHYPENREST
I've being real quiet bc one, I need to re-write this bc it got so long and two, I needed to find the write words.
I'm beyond concerned for the boys. It’s heartbreaking to see ENHYPEN being pushed to their limits without a proper break. Jay had to sit out their recent Japan concerts due to the flu (plus the knee pain), and it’s not the first time we’ve seen the members struggling with their health this year. Ni-Ki, too, has been performing despite being visibly unwell. Watching them continue through exhaustion is just… painful. Heeseung, who loves to give his all in the perfomance, it's getting "lazy" allegations when it's him being so tired to the point that can't even jump properly in their choreos. Jake missing, the guys collective flu...
As much as we love the content, it’s time to admit that their schedule is simply too much. Back-to-back comebacks, tours that seem never-ending, and barely any time to breathe. Even they’ve expressed a desire to have a meal or sleep without cameras on them—simple things they’re missing out on because they’re always "on." It’s clear they need rest. Real rest.
What it fucks me up, is k-engenes. BOY THEY HAVE THE ENERGY TO SENT FUCKING TRUCKS FOR TAKING AWAY THE DANCERS IN THE "BITE ME" CHOREO BUT NOT TO SEND TRUCKS TELLING THEM TO MAKE ENHA REST.
If you're using your phone and aleeping in the fucking concert, do a faver and don't spend money one that, you have a home where you can do that. There are people that would kill foe your ticket.
Now, back to the main topic.
THIS SHIT HAS BEEN GOING ON SINCE 2023
This is a list of the thing that I remember them doing since 2023:
2023:
Fate World Tour announcement (June 2023)
Comeback with "DARK BLOOD" (May 2023)
Collaborations and special performances (KCON, festivals)
Endorsements and brand collaborations
Japan events
2024:
Continuation of Fate World Tour (2024)
Comeback with "MEMORABILIA" (May 2024)
Comeback with "ROMANCE UNTOLD" (July 2024)
Additional tour dates announced for October 2024
This company has been nothing but a pain in my ass since the very beginning, I will never forget how they photoshopped Jay's face in the trash, never. Also, they couldn't defend themselves with the only girl group they have. If you can even manage your first sources of fucking income, then why did you even decide to put a company in the first place? AND WHY IS HYBE ANDD BANG PD ALLOWING THIS!?
Oh yeah, they got money hungry. I forgot.
We don’t need more tour dates. We don’t need more comebacks right now. We need to see the boys healthy, happy, and well-rested. Engenes, I know we love seeing them, but we also have to stand together and demand that Belift Lab prioritizes their well-being. The fact that #LETENHYPENREST is trending speaks volumes. Let’s keep raising our voices for them because their health matters more than any performance. Let’s support them in getting the break they deserve 💔
tagging a few moots for this: @glitterjay @kwiwin @dollyyun @kissofhoon @taeghi @alvojake @intromortal @karinasbaby @heeslomll @yeonzzzn @sunkittie
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estapa-edwards · 3 months
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Sunshine was so pretty and cute! Can I request anything with golden retriever boy (you decide) x black cat reader please?
BLACK CAT - W.SMITH
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paring: will smith x reader
word count: 3.1
requested? yes
warnings: use of y/n.
I aged them up, will didn't sign yet!
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
I always preferred the library to the hockey rink. There’s a certain comfort in the quiet rustling of pages, the soft hum of the air conditioning, and the knowledge that within these walls, I could be anyone, go anywhere, without ever having to leave my seat. That’s why, when I heard the raucous cheering coming from the direction of the Conte Forum, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Another game, another excuse for the entire campus to lose its collective mind over a bunch of guys chasing a puck around on ice. 
I’m a sophomore at Boston College. My friends like to joke that I’m a black cat in human form—aloof, independent, and not easily impressed. It’s not that I dislike people; I just prefer my own company, or that of a good book, over the chaos that seems to follow my classmates around.
So, when I found myself outside the Conte Forum on that frigid January night, it wasn’t by choice. I was on my way to the library, my sanctuary, when a particularly loud cheer broke through the stillness of the evening. I paused for a moment, glancing at the entrance where students were streaming in, faces alight with excitement. Hockey was a big deal here, and the star of the team, Will Smith, was practically a campus legend.
I had heard of Will Smith, of course. It was impossible not to. He was the golden boy of Boston College hockey, a junior who had been racking up goals and assists since his freshman year. He had the kind of charisma that made people gravitate towards him—a golden retriever personality, as my friend Lucy liked to say. Always smiling, always friendly, and somehow always surrounded by a crowd of admirers.
I, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Where he was outgoing, I was reserved. Where he was the life of the party, I was the shadow in the corner, quietly observing. I had no interest in the Will Smiths of the world. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
--- --- --- 
I was deep into my third cup of coffee and the sixth chapter of my history textbook when I heard the commotion. The library was usually a haven of peace, but tonight it was invaded by the victorious chants and laughter of the hockey team. The door swung open, and there he was, Will Smith, flanked by his teammates, all of them still in their jerseys, exuding an infectious energy that shattered the quiet.
I tried to ignore them, burying my face deeper into my book, but it was no use. They were loud, and Will was at the center of it all, his laughter ringing out above the rest. I glanced up, just for a moment, and our eyes met. He smiled—of course, he did—and I quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed me. No such luck.
“Hey, you!” he called out, striding over to my table. “Y/N, right?”
I blinked, taken aback. “Yes?”
“I’m Will,” he said, as if I didn’t already know. “Mind if I join you?”
I did mind, actually, but I couldn’t find the words to say it. Before I could respond, he had pulled out a chair and sat down, his teammates scattering to other parts of the library. I stared at him, wondering what on earth he wanted with me.
“I’ve seen you around,” he said, leaning forward with that disarming grin of his. “You’re always so focused. What are you studying?”
“History,” I replied curtly, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me alone.
“Cool,” he said, unfazed by my lack of enthusiasm. “I’m a business major, but I’ve always thought history was interesting. So many stories, you know?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Why was he here, talking to me of all people?
“Listen,” he said after a moment, his tone more serious. “I know you probably don’t care about hockey, but I wanted to invite you to our next game. It’s this Friday, and I think you’d have a good time.”
I almost laughed. “Why would you think that?”
“Because it’s exciting,” he said simply. “And I think you could use a little excitement in your life.”
His words stung, and I bristled. “I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you very much.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No offense meant. Just thought I’d ask.”
“Well, now you’ve asked,” I said, closing my book with a definitive snap. “And my answer is no.”
Will studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I watched as he got up and rejoined his friends, their laughter fading as they left the library. I sighed, trying to shake off the strange encounter and refocus on my studies. But I couldn’t help feeling a tiny spark of curiosity about the boy with the golden smile and relentless optimism
--- --- --- 
Over the next few weeks, I couldn’t seem to escape Will Smith. He was everywhere—at the library, the dining hall, even in some of my classes. It was as if he had made it his mission to be a part of my life, whether I wanted him there or not.
“Hey, Y/N!” he’d call out, waving enthusiastically whenever he saw me. “How’s it going?”
I’d nod politely, giving the bare minimum of a response before retreating back into my shell. But he was undeterred, always ready with a joke, a smile, or a casual comment that somehow managed to brighten my day, despite my best efforts to ignore him.
One afternoon, as I was leaving my literature class, I found him waiting outside the door. “Walk you to your next class?” he asked, falling into step beside me before I could refuse.
“Why are you doing this?” I finally asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.
“Doing what?”
“Trying to be my friend,” I said, stopping in my tracks to face him. “We’re nothing alike. You’re… you, and I’m me. It doesn’t make sense.”
Will shrugged, his smile softening. “Maybe I like a challenge. Or maybe I see something in you that you don’t see in yourself.”
I frowned, not knowing how to respond to that. He seemed so genuine, so earnest, that it was hard to stay annoyed with him. “Well, I don’t need a friend,” I said finally. “Especially not one like you.”
He looked momentarily hurt but quickly recovered, that infuriating grin back in place. “Okay. But I’m not giving up that easily.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, more confused than ever. Why was he so determined to be a part of my life? And why did a part of me secretly enjoy his attention?
--- --- --- 
Despite my best efforts to keep my distance, Will’s persistence began to wear me down. He’d show up at the library with coffee, sit with me in the dining hall, and even convinced me to study with him a few times. He was always so upbeat, so positive, that it was hard not to be affected by his energy.
One Friday night, I found myself at a loose end. My usual plans had fallen through, and I was sitting in my dorm room, feeling unusually restless. I remembered Will’s invitation to the hockey game and, against my better judgment, decided to go. Maybe a change of scenery would do me good.
The arena was packed. I found a seat towards the back, hoping to remain unnoticed. The game was fast-paced and intense, and for the first time, I understood why people loved it so much. The players moved with a grace and precision that was mesmerizing, and the crowd’s energy was infectious.
Will was, unsurprisingly, the star of the show. He skated with a confidence and skill that left me in awe. Watching him, I felt a strange mix of pride and admiration. He looked up at the stands at one point, and our eyes met. He grinned and waved, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I couldn’t explain.
After the final buzzer sounded and the team secured their victory, the crowd erupted into cheers. I watched as Will and his teammates celebrated on the ice, the sheer joy on his face unmistakable. Part of me wanted to stay, to congratulate him in person, but the other part—the part that feared getting too close, too fast—won out.
I slipped out of the arena, blending into the crowd of students heading back to their dorms or out to celebrate. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat and noise of the rink, and I breathed deeply, trying to steady the fluttering in my chest. My footsteps echoed in the quiet as I made my way back to my dorm, lost in thought.
Later that night, as I was curled up with a book, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Will.
Will: Hey, I saw you at the game tonight! Thanks for coming 😊
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. I hesitated for a moment before typing my reply.
Me: You played really well. Congrats on the win!
His response came almost immediately.
Will: Thanks! It means a lot that you were there. Can we meet up tomorrow? I’d love to talk.
I bit my lip, uncertainty gnawing at me. But I couldn’t deny that part of me wanted to see him, to hear what he had to say.
Me: Okay. How about the coffee shop on campus? Around 10 AM?
Will: Perfect. See you then!
I set my phone down, my mind racing. What did he want to talk about? And why was I so nervous about it? As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow’s conversation would change everything 
--- --- --- 
The next morning, I arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early, my stomach in knots. I found a quiet corner table and ordered a latte, hoping it would help calm my nerves. As I stirred my drink absentmindedly, I saw Will walk in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. He smiled, that same disarming smile that had started to chip away at my defenses.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, sitting down across from me. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“No problem,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “Congrats again on the game. You were amazing out there.”
He chuckled, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Thanks. It was a good night.”
There was a brief, awkward silence, and I took a sip of my latte, waiting for him to speak. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him, and it only made me more anxious.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said finally, looking me in the eye. “I know I’ve been kind of persistent lately, and I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”
I shook my head. “No, you haven’t. It’s just… I’m not used to people like you.”
“People like me?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Outgoing, popular, always the center of attention,” I explained. “I’m more of a background kind of person.”
Will nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. And I’m not trying to change you, Y/N. I like you for who you are. I just… I want to get to know you better. Be your friend.”
His sincerity caught me off guard, and I felt a lump form in my throat. “Why me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Because you’re different,” he said simply. “You’re smart, kind, and you see the world in a way that I don’t. I think we could learn a lot from each other.”
I looked down at my hands, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of me was still wary, afraid of getting hurt. But another part of me, the part that had started to warm up to him, wanted to take a chance.
“Okay,” I said finally, meeting his gaze. “Let’s give it a try.”
Will’s face lit up with a smile that made my heart flutter. “Great. So, friends?”
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Friends.
--- --- --- 
Our coffee outings became a regular thing. Will was easy to talk to, and I found myself opening up to him in ways I hadn’t with anyone else. He had a way of making me feel comfortable, of drawing me out of my shell without pushing too hard.
One evening, as we were walking back to campus, he asked me about my family. It was a subject I rarely talked about, but with Will, it felt natural.
“My parents are divorced,” I said quietly. “I live with my mom, and we’re close. My dad… not so much.”
Will nodded, his expression sympathetic. “That sounds tough. My parents are still together, but I can’t imagine what it would be like if they weren’t.”
“It’s not easy,” I admitted. “But you get used to it. My mom’s amazing, and she’s always been there for me.”
He smiled, a soft, understanding smile that made my heart ache in a way I didn’t quite understand. “I’m glad you have her. And you know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Thanks, Will. That means a lot.”
As the weeks went by, our friendship deepened. We spent more and more time together, and I found myself looking forward to our meetings. Will was like a ray of sunshine in my otherwise quiet life, and I began to realize that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to like him as more than a friend.
It was a crisp spring evening when it happened. We were sitting on a bench in the campus park, watching the sunset. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sky was a canvas of vibrant colors.
“Y/N,” Will said softly, turning to face me. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. “I like you. More than a friend. I’ve liked you for a long time.”
I stared at him, my mind racing. I had suspected it, of course, but hearing him say it out loud was different. It made it real.
“I know we’re different,” he continued, his voice steady. “But I think that’s what makes us work. You balance me out, and I like to think I bring a little light into your life.”
He was right, of course. He did bring light into my life, and I had come to cherish it. But I was scared—scared of what it would mean to let him in completely.
“I don’t know, Will,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “I’m not like you. I don’t know if I can be what you need.”
He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Y/N. That’s all I want. Just you.”
I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope there. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith, to let myself believe in the possibility of something more.
“Okay,” I whispered, a smile spreading across my face. “Let’s give it a try.”
Will’s face lit up with joy, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy, and I knew that whatever happened, we’d face it together.
--- --- --- 
It was a crisp spring evening when it happened. We were sitting on a bench in the campus park, watching the sunset. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sky was a canvas of vibrant colors.
“Y/N,” Will said softly, turning to face me. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. “I like you. More than a friend. I’ve liked you for a long time.”
I stared at him, my mind racing. I had suspected it, of course, but hearing him say it out loud was different. It made it real.
“I know we’re different,” he continued, his voice steady. “But I think that’s what makes us work. You balance me out, and I like to think I bring a little light into your life.”
He was right, of course. He did bring light into my life, and I had come to cherish it. But I was scared—scared of what it would mean to let him in completely.
“I don’t know, Will,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “I’m not like you. I don’t know if I can be what you need.”
He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Y/N. That’s all I want. Just you.”
I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope there. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith, to let myself believe in the possibility of something more.
“Okay,” I whispered, a smile spreading across my face. “Let’s give it a try.”
Will’s face lit up with joy, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy, and I knew that whatever happened, we’d face it together.
As we pulled back, I caught his gaze, and something shifted in the air between us. The world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Slowly, almost tentatively, Will leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving mine.
Time seemed to slow as his lips brushed mine, softly at first, then with more certainty. The kiss was sweet and tender, filled with all the emotions we’d been holding back. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the moment, feeling a warmth spread through me that chased away all my doubts and fears.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Will’s eyes were bright with happiness and something deeper, something that mirrored my own feelings.
“Wow,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “That was…”
“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He laughed softly, his breath warm against my skin. “Yeah, it was.”
We sat there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, the world around us fading into the background. In that moment, I knew that we had taken the first step toward something beautiful and enduring. And for the first time, I felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, as long as it included Will by my side.
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176 notes · View notes
lilacstro · 3 months
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pac : what you need to know about this separation/no-contact
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ok this was the second most chosen topic. here we go, sincerely hoping it resonates and brings some light. you can use this reading for anyone, just remove the romantic messages if any, though I have tried keeping it as clean as possible.
let me know if it resonated :) leave feedbacks/suggestions <33
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decks used: biddy tarot, inquire within oracle, cupid says oracle
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pile 1 pile 2 pile 3
support me on ko-fi :)
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Pile 1
Ok as soon as i started shuffling your pile, my sister started singing "fated trouble" by enhyphen. The first thing I would like to say is, it seems this relationship majorly ended because of internal chaos more than anything else. A stagnant situation. Someone being hung up on something. Cancer, or number 8 might be significant for someone. With 8, I am also willing to say Leo. There is so much fast and constant fear pile 1. So much of it. Were you guys very excited and hopeful about the future? Maybe you thought of getting married, and loving each other forever. I can say even if it was for a brief while, your love was reciprocated. One of the things I am being called to say is, there is a chance this connection matures into something you want, or you will find someone like that. Either ways, its time to give this a stop, I am getting clear messages about this. Let it go, and move forward. I am wondering if some of you feel alone or could be your person feels alone, but I am guessing its you. I feel that someone had to make a decision, a hard one to stay together. Someone needed to take a leap and they did not. There is a lot of inner conflict. Someone might have been in the victim mentality. This person, or you, may receive a lot of messages in your dream. Some of you may even receive flashbacks/dreams about all the good times you have spent together. I see both of you miss/missed each other while in this separation. An advice for you would be, to listen to your intuition. To yourself. I feel you have somehow caged yourself. Remove the blindfolds, its time to move forward and ahead. If you are overwhelmed with your emotions, know that its okay to feel what you are feeling pile 1. Giving me vibes of the one that got away.
If you resonated with anything I said, one of the reasons you might not want to go back, is that, you arent a hard choice to make. If this was not a life ending situation, someone being wishy washy about you is not what you deserve, You dont need to know how it WAS, you need to see, how it IS. Its surprising because tho I only see things being caught up here, and no forms of deceit, I am still being told now is not the time, now is the time to let go. And if your love is reciprocated, it will get the happy ending it deserves and I can promise that. Your situation wont end up with both of you having love but parting ways. IF your love is reciprocated pile 1, it will come back. But let it go for now. Let this rest. The lyrics from shy martin's songs are coming up:
"Do you remember how tangled we got in our feelings? Caught up on the small things And I know I thought that pain's part of love But I think I broke you, though I didn't mean to
But are you happy looking back at us When you met me? Would you go back and tell yourself to leave it Knowing what we know? Or are you happy that we happened in our 20s? So you know what you want isn't with me Would you go back and tell yourself to leave it Knowing how it goes? Or are you happy that we happened? Ah" Infact this song could describe your situation. I am listing it here, you might wanna hear it.
One advice I am strongly getting for you, is to go near water, if you can go to lakes, swimming pools, ponds and dip your feet in water, swim if you can and release energy. If you dont have access to watery places, stand in shower and do some standing meditation there. Water your plants. Collect seashells on oceans if possible.
I am promise you, you will be fine. Its time to start fresh and clear pile 1. I promise you it gets better. You will be fine, you will thrive. Dont make a mental prison, dont reflect about this over and over and think about what-ifs. Get up pile 1, i know you love them, but love yourself more. You need to move forward, its just one life, And if this person is supposed to be in it, they will be back. Your life is yours, they are just a part of it.
Advice:
Its ok to feel feelings Listen quietly yes, you can I have support Release.
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Pile 2
Dissatisfaction. This is what that comes to my mind. Unlike the previous pile, this is ummm, weird. Lets get into this, One of the things I am getting is, you might be dealing with someone older. Money seems involved too. Did you take a break with this person? and come back? or something like that? Despite of whatever it is, this person seems immature, while you are much emotionally mature. Did you lose some money with this person? Its also giving me that their family had some issues with you, one of them possibly could be financial status. Since this is a general reading, multiple things come up, and i like listing all of them, since I dont know who this is for.
It could very much be that things changed overnight with this person, and what seemed a stable ground suddenly shook and went down all together. It gives me this vibe, that this person wanted to chose. They were not satisfied with what they had. I even feel you are dissatisfied with the overall outcome of this situation. I see someone walking away, most likely in disdain and despair. Strange how i am getting a song in my head for each pile until now, I am getting the lyrics from the song "are you bored yet?" by clario "Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?"
this song might make sense to you, so I am listing it here
I was refraining from saying this but, gives me lowkey playboy vibes. Someone who just wants fun. Take it if it resonates. I am also getting its very much possible one of you was moving away, probably even overseas that could have caused some problems. Random but, did this person like being praised? seems so. This person seems so nonchalant and casual to me? Listen Pile 2, if you resonate with this so far, I am getting that this person will get their karma and they would see that the grass isn't greener on the other side, and then actually come back sooner or later. Giving me the lyrics "I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expires, and you'd be standing in my front porch light, I know you'd come back to me"
Cardigan by Taylor Swift might resonate. I swear this person could have tried to deceive you with sweet words in the past or will do that in the future. I cannot tell you what to do with this pile 2, you can chose, but I would suggest you refrain from entertaining this person.
As of the advice, I am getting going out into the nature, and connecting with your inner child. Did you like catching butterflies when you were young pile2? what i mean to say is, tap in with your inner child, make them happy and do things you love. Start enjoying small little things around you. Maybe do gardening, plant a little seed or maybe buy one small plant for your room. Water it daily and love and care for it like you would for yourself. Connect yourself to earth, maybe sit on the ground and meditate, hug trees, and walk barefoot on grass. Feel it under your feet. Go on cycling, laugh a lot. All is good. Although I usually say, that you will transform and change, I feel called to say, you are already beautiful and the lessons you learnt here dont seem to change much, you already are, everything pile 2. If this situation made you doubt your worth or compare yourself to others, just dont. You are wonderful and deserve the best love.
Advice: Look into the nature for healing You already, are Celebrate little things Plant a seed and wait Have curiosity, maybe start learning something new/always wanted to Be patient, love always wins :)
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Pile 3
Ok, so I feel this person could be very confused pile 3, could be in the past a lot. It could be that you have experienced multiple cycles with this person. A woman was coming through, maybe the person you are asking about is a woman, or maybe some woman was involved. I am also getting you could have had multiple fresh starts with this person, You could have met them in school, colleges, or through your mother. Number 4 might be significant to someone. I am also feeling some of you made this decision to walk away gracefully, probably on advice of your closed loved ones. summer feels important.
This seems to have been built on a shaky foundation pile 3. I keep on accidentally typing pile 2, you may wanna check pile 2 out. Anyways, was this person someone who you knew from a while? maybe childhood? I feel there has been arguments with this person, This person could have ran away as well, and how it happens everytime smh, they think about this a lot and just think, hmmm what should i do now? what should I do next. They could very well be stalking your social media if you have one. Looking at old pics or wanting to see you somehow. It CLEARLY appears to me, this person was very questionable, you dont seem the first priority to them. They were/are obsessed with something, either past or money. Could even be they were hiding something from you. This person looks lonely in some ways, maybe they lost you over this obsession for something else. And whats worse is, they still seem to be thinking, to be able to make a choice, so much immature energy pile 3. This person seems so much in their head over what they even want. So much thinking, you are an easy choice pile 3, you dont deserve this much contemplation just to be chosen and loved. They want to bring "justice" and the right solution to the situation. I wonder how long this will take since this person is definitely in their feels, and looking over the past and what went down.
They seem to just, sit and think endlessly and proceed to do nothing. My advice, just don't wait for someone like this. I am getting this feeling this person has confused themselves about you to a point where it seems like false love. It seems some weird guilt tripped thing rather than wanting to make things right out of genuine love. Regardless, this person is very restless and doesn't seem to have any satisfaction with what they have.
My advice for you, is to get out of your head about this situation. Also, if you saw this person as a competition, don't. If you see/ hear them doing well, dont trust everything you hear. Infact, if you hear anything about this person that should not concern you anymore, dont pay attention. Move at your pace, people who start running wayy before the marathon, exhaust themselves midway. I have learnt and seen this in my life. What i mean is, be at your own pace and you will win pile 3. If you have lost faith, so be it, but emerge out of this situation. I understand you could have connected to this person, but dont take this seriously anymore. Get out of your own way pile 3. I am also getting a message of creating to-do lists for your day. Consider praying or writing in your journal if you wish to manifest something. You dont deserve deceit pile 3.
Advice: Its not a competition Emerge, dont lose faith Dont take it all too seriously Get out of your own way Ask and ye shall receive dont trust everything you hear
171 notes · View notes
edenesth · 5 months
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Midnight Fiction
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Pairing: Wooyoung x fem!reader
AU: non-idol au
Word Count: 10.4k
Summary: One restless night, craving an escape from reality, you and Wooyoung lose yourselves to the captivating realms of your favourite fantasy worlds. Together, you traverse through the wonder of Narnia, the magic of Middle-earth, and the enchantment of Hogwarts.
A/N: Just a random little self-indulgent oneshot inspired by ILLIT's Midnight Fiction, song's been on repeat for me. These images have been flashing through my mind whenever I listen to it, so I'm taking this chance to experiment with writing The Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter AUs.
ATEEZ Masterlist
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Don't you just hate it when you're caught in that limbo of feeling too cold without a blanket and too hot with one? Don't you just hate it when you lie in bed for what feels like an eternity, teetering on the edge of slumber, only to snap awake again? Don't you just hate when your room begins to feel stifling from restlessness, leaving you searching for that elusive perfect spot on your bed?
Don't you just hate it when it feels like the whole world is asleep while you're wide awake? You do, don't you?
Fortunately for you, tonight, you weren't alone in this plight. The person lying beside you, your best friend, your soulmate, your better half—your everything—seemed to be stuck in the same predicament.
"Trouble sleeping, love?"
In an instant, the weight lifted as you turned to gaze at the love of your life, awake beside you. "Yes, Woo, but at least I'm not alone," you whispered, smiling. He smiled back, extending an arm towards you in invitation. You pouted, your heart brimming with affection for this man, and immediately shifted into his welcoming embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
He sighed contentedly, tightening his hold around you, and peppering your face with tender kisses. "Perhaps sleep isn't on the agenda tonight. What do you say we find another way to pass the time?" His playful grin met your curious gaze.
You chuckled softly. "And what mischief do you have in store, my dearest Mr. Jung?"
With a playful boop to your nose, he grinned. "Would you care to embark on an adventure with me, my lady? Somewhere far from this suffocating room, perhaps?"
Bursting into a fit of giggles at his playful imitation of old-fashioned speech, you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back, you played along, "Oh, you present such an irresistible offer. How could I possibly refuse, my lord?"
He bit his lip, feeling his heart melt at how swiftly you caught on. Wooyoung had always been an exuberant individual, often overwhelming others with his energy and antics, but never with you. You were the sole person in the world who truly understood him. You shared the same interests and personalities, the only disparity being that you were a slightly calmer version of him.
If soulmates existed, he was certain you were at the other end of the red strings of fate binding him to you. You had to be.
Pressing his lips to yours once more, relishing the closeness, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. "Well, come on then, love. Let's not waste any time. Adventure awaits us."
You squealed in delight as he leapt out of bed, swiftly yanking the sheets off you and exposing you to the cool air. With a playful tug on your leg, he pulled you into his arms as you steadied yourself against his chest, adjusting to the sudden movement after hours of lying still.
"I hope you're ready, my lady."
"You bet your ass I am, sire. Let's do this!"
"Seriously, Woo? This is the adventure you were referring to? A place far from our suffocating bedroom?" you asked incredulously as he swung open the doors to his absurdly large wardrobe in the spare room of your shared apartment. It was where your boyfriend housed his prized collection of branded apparel, insisting on keeping them separate from his everyday wear.
He flashed you a cheeky grin, flicking on the torchlight he'd brought with him and shining it upwards towards his face in the classic fashion of someone about to tell ghost stories. "Oh, come on, this could be fun. It'll be like seven minutes in heaven."
You snorted at his suggestion, watching as he crawled into the space, carefully shifting aside his hanging clothes. Crossing your arms teasingly, you quipped, "With a whole apartment at our disposal, why do we need to squeeze into a tiny space for some fun?"
Once settled inside, he extended a hand to you. "Don't pretend you're not thrilled about this. I see right through you. Come on, love," he urged, and your façade melted away like chocolate. With a grin as childlike as his, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to draw you into the cramped space.
Amidst endless giggles, you squeezed your way in beside him. When he finally managed to shut the doors, you turned to him eagerly. "Okay, so what now?"
"Now, let the magic begin," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss. You sighed contentedly, running a hand through his hair as you kissed him back. But before the romantic moment could fully unfold, true to his nature, Wooyoung reached around your waist and began to tickle you. You shrieked, pulling away to playfully slap him. "S-stop it, you menace! I sh-should've known!"
As you tried to push him away from you, you found yourself instinctively scooting back. But instead of feeling the familiar barrier of the wardrobe's end, you noticed an unusual expanse of space behind you. "W-wait, Woo! S-something's not right—" Before you could finish your sentence, a loud gasp escaped you as you felt a cold touch on your back.
What in the world.
Finally, your boyfriend ceased his actions, freezing in his spot with wide eyes. Following his gaze, you turned your head and felt your breath hitch at the unbelievable sight of a winter wonderland before your eyes.
Swiftly, he rolled off you and helped you up to your feet, clad in bedroom slippers, both of you taking tentative steps into the snow. Your gazes met in wide-eyed astonishment as the chill of this new world immediately embraced you. "Woo, could we be in...?" you began, while he hurriedly threw on an expensive coat before draping another snugly over your shoulders.
Ensuring you were sufficiently warm, he reached for your hand and led you forward. "Only one way to find out."
Your hearts raced as you ventured deeper into the breathtaking snow-covered forest. Glancing back, you felt relief upon seeing the back of Wooyoung's wardrobe still there. As he squeezed your hand, you followed his gaze, and your face lit up with recognition as you approached the lamppost before you.
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Locking eyes with each other, you whispered in unison, "Narnia."
Squealing with excitement, the two of you began to jump around. Your boyfriend started rambling, "Oh my god, do you think we'll get to meet Mr. Tumnus? Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Beaver?"
You laughed and shook your head. "I don't know, but I really hope I get to see King Edmund, at least... or even Prince Caspian, if we're that far in the story already."
He scoffed. "Of course, you'd want to."
You playfully smacked his arm. "Hey! Don't pretend you're not also dying to meet the gorgeous High Queen Susan!"
Feeling a presence, you both turned to find a very unexpected character greeting you upon arrival. Standing before you in all his glory was Aslan, The Great Lion, the creator and one true king of the world of Narnia. Your boyfriend stilled, then pulled you down onto your knees beside him. "It's an honour to meet you, sir. I'm Wooyoung, son of Adam," he said, introducing himself, before introducing you as a daughter of Eve.
Aslan nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome to Narnia; we have been expecting you," he began, catching you off guard.
"You have...?" you asked in disbelief.
The lion confirmed, "Yes, you are both here to fulfil the Golden Age prophecy."
Wooyoung sputtered, "W-we are...? Isn't the prophecy about two boys and two girls, with your help, ending the evil witch's rule?"
Aslan clarified, "That is correct, but you've left out one final thing; it includes two seers who can tell the future. With your help, we will defeat Jadis without a problem."
At that, you and your boyfriend exchanged a knowing smile. Of course, you were both the seers; you already knew how the story goes. Armed with this knowledge, you were equipped to guide them through their quest to defeat the White Witch even more seamlessly than before.
With a graceful motion, the lion lowered himself to the ground. "Now, if you'll both get on my back, we'll head back to the camp where everyone is preparing for battle." Excitement surged through you both, and without hesitation, you climbed aboard. As the journey commenced, you marvelled at the breathtaking scenery around you. With each passing moment, you noticed the snow melting away, a clear sign of Jadis' spell fading and the return of goodness, heralding Aslan's triumphant return.
As you and your boyfriend rode on the lion's back, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you both. It was surreal to realise that you were actually in the magical land you had both fantasised about since childhood. The realisation dawned on you that this wasn't just a dream—it was happening, right now.
Feelings of excitement, wonder, and disbelief mingled within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. But typical Wooyoung being Wooyoung, he couldn't resist his mischievous nature. Sitting behind you, he tightened his hold on your waist and whispered in your ear, "How do you think he'd react if we told him he's fictional?" Your jaws dropped, and you shot him a glare, elbowing him in the gut and causing him to groan. "Now, why would you do that?"
But it didn't take long before you both burst into giggles. Despite his knack for mischief, you couldn't help but be grateful for his presence. You couldn't envision exploring the magical world of Narnia with anyone else but Jung Wooyoung by your side.
As you reached the camp, embarrassment flooded you as all the creatures—centaurs, fauns, and more—stared at you and Wooyoung in your mismatched attire. You couldn't help but feel awkward in your pyjamas paired with your boyfriend's branded coat and bedroom slippers. Before you could dwell on it, everyone began kneeling in greeting as you passed by.
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"Welcome, seers of Narnia," greeted the voices in unison as you arrived at the main tent where the four Pevensie siblings stood waiting, your hearts pounded with excitement and nerves. Here you were, finally meeting your childhood crushes. Clumsily, you introduced yourselves before watching the crowd disperse.
Blushing under Peter and Edmund's curious gazes, you were relieved when Susan stepped forward with a chuckle. "Come on, both of you. Let's get you into some proper clothes. We know how it feels; we've been in your shoes on our first day here," she reassured. Wooyoung chuckled in agreement, "Yeah, we know that."
Lucy's eyes widened in awe. "Of course, you're the seers. You must know everything. Tell us, how does it all work?"
Blinking rapidly with pursed lips, you and your boyfriend struggled to find a suitable response. After all, revealing that your knowledge came from books or movies wouldn't be appropriate. Breaking the fourth wall so easily could spoil the adventure and make you both seem uncool. It was best to keep the magic alive, even if it meant inventing some details on the spot.
"Uh, well... it's, uh, complicated," your boyfriend stammered, his mind scrambling for a creative explanation.
Peter cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with his youngest sister. "Not now, Lucy. They must be overwhelmed. We should let them get changed and settle down first."
Nodding in agreement, Edmund gestured to a smaller tent beside Aslan's. "Right this way, please. We've prepared your outfits."
You had to suppress a squeal; the brothers were even more attractive in person. Though this version of King Edmund was still a child and not the king you admired in the later movies, it was still him, and you couldn't help feeling bashful. As if to remind you of who you truly belonged to, Wooyoung slid his arm around your waist. "Come on, love. Let's get changed." It was then that all four siblings realised that unlike them, you were lovers.
Emerging from the tent with Susan and Lucy's help, you felt slightly awkward in the medieval-styled gown, uncertain how to manage its intricate design. Meanwhile, your boyfriend had finished much sooner, dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a tunic. His lively voice echoed from inside the tent as you dressed, likely engaging poor Peter and Edmund with his talkative nature.
As you stepped out, his voice trailed off as he took in the sight of you in the purple gown with your hair braided halfway and the rest left down. Though not extravagant, you knew he found it beautiful; his stunned expression told you that much.
Susan giggled at his reaction, while you blushed slightly. "Shall we have something to eat, and break the ice before we begin our training?" she suggested.
You raised a brow. "Training?"
Peter nodded. "Yes, preparations for the battle against the White Witch's army. I know you're both here as our seers, but it's wise to be ready to defend yourselves too."
Wooyoung nodded in understanding. "Right, well, we'll accept the food then. We'll need our strength for training."
Gathered around a small table on the field, you shared a simple meal, just enough to provide energy for training. Keeping a straight face was a challenge as your boyfriend animatedly spun a tale for the Pevensie siblings about how you both received visions of the future.
"Yeah, it's not something we control. Sometimes it comes in dreams, other times as random visions. It's tricky... a gift and a curse, really," he elaborated.
Struggling to suppress your amusement, you watched as the siblings listened in awe. Concealing your laughter behind a cough, you nudged Wooyoung in the side, giving him a glare and mouthing, "Enough!"
The mood turned serious as Lucy nervously inquired, "Have you seen how this will all end? Will we triumph over the evil witch?" You were aware of the obstacles lying ahead, including Aslan's sacrifice to save Edmund for his earlier betrayal, and the battle feeling like a lost cause. Despite these daunting prospects, you knew you had to offer reassurance to keep their spirits up.
Taking this as your cue to speak, you smiled and nodded at the youngest Pevensie sibling. "Yes, little one. You—no, we—will emerge victorious. The path to victory may be fraught with challenges, but we'll be here to help you every step of the way."
After the meal, the guys geared up to train their sword skills, while the girls prepared for archery practice. Just before joining the guys, Wooyoung pulled you close.
"Have I told you how much I adore the way you talk to children, love?" he whispered.
You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. "Now's not the time for this, Woo; they're waiting for us."
He grinned at the pink blush on your cheeks. "Fine, I'll go if you want me to so badly. By the way, you look beautiful," he whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek before darting off to join Peter and Edmund.
Turning around, you noticed Susan and Lucy snickering after witnessing the exchange, and you couldn't help but bite your lip bashfully. "Come. Off to training, we go."
After hours of practice, you discovered a potential talent in archery. Susan raised an impressed brow. "Huh, you seem quite skilled at this. We were worried for nothing; you'll do just fine on the battlefield."
You beamed. "I sure hope so."
As the girls continued their drills, your gaze kept drifting to the guys training across the river. Despite the presence of the handsome High King Peter and King Edmund, your attention remained fixed on your silly boyfriend who was earnestly attempting to wield his sword. He looked comical, but that was part of his charm.
"You're in love," Lucy's voice snapped you out of your reverie. Flustered, you nodded. "Why yes, little one. I am in love."
Susan smiled, joining the conversation. "So is he. You two look perfect together. Say, how did you meet?"
Your mind flashed back to your first encounter with Wooyoung. He had been at the next table when you were stood up by a blind date, rambling away loudly with a friend. Annoyed, you turned to him, asking, "Will you please lower your voice?! Not everyone is interested in your opinion on love at first sight!" Ironically, that was how he claimed to have fallen in love with you.
Chuckling at the memory, you decided not to share the full story with the girls. Given the temporal gap between your world and theirs, you reckoned they might not grasp the nuances of your relationship with Wooyoung. Instead, you offered a simplified version of how you met, emphasising the humour in the situation. They laughed with you, and soon the conversation shifted back to practice.
As the story progressed, you and your boyfriend grew closer to the Pevensie siblings, guiding them through every challenge just like rewatching the movie. Together, you avoided certain pitfalls and reassured them that everything would turn out well in the end.
On the night before the decisive battle, you would leave to stay with the girls to witness Aslan's sacrifice for Edmund. Wooyoung held you close, knowing that the next time you saw each other would be on the battlefield the following day. "Be careful, love," he whispered, concern evident in his voice.
You nodded, returning the sentiment. "You too, Woo. You remember how the battle goes, right? Stick by Edmund's side and ensure Jadis doesn't harm him. Or better yet, get him out of that area. Just don't let her get the chance to stab him."
He grinned confidently. "You worry too much. I'll protect your precious King Edmund, don't you worry about a thing."
You scoffed, slapping him lightly. "I have to go now. I'll see you."
He couldn't resist capturing your lips in a loving kiss before letting you go. "Go, the girls need you," he urged softly.
As Susan and Lucy wept on your shoulders after witnessing Aslan's sacrifice, you held them tightly, offering whatever comfort you could. With tears clouding her voice, the younger sibling questioned, "How can things still be okay after this? He's gone... How can we possibly win the war without him?"
Gently stroking her tear-stained cheeks, you reassured her, "Trust me, he knows what he's doing. This will all work out in our favour. Just you wait and see, little one."
Susan regarded you with her typical scepticism. "Are you sure?"
Your nod was firm. "Absolutely."
Quietly, you watched as they clung to the lion after the enemies dispersed to prepare for battle. As dawn approached, you motioned for them to join you. "It's almost time. Come."
With furrowed brows, they approached cautiously. "Time for what...?"
Your smile was knowing as the ground trembled and the Stone Table shattered, leaving behind only a vacant space where Aslan had been. "For this," you declared, pointing to the now-empty surface.
Their eyes widened in disbelief as Aslan reappeared before them, alive and well. You watched with a sense of satisfaction as he explained his strategy, how he had fooled the White Witch.
Eager to reunite with your lover, you interjected, "Well, let's not waste any more time. We still have one final task: freeing our friends still trapped in Jadis' Castle."
Aslan nodded in agreement. "You're right, seer. We must act swiftly."
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After rescuing Mr. Tumnus and the others, you hurried to the battlefield. Upon arrival, Aslan let out a loud roar as if to announce his presence. Spotting Peter engaged in a sword fight with the White Witch, you frantically scanned the area for the second youngest Pevensie and Wooyoung.
Time seemed to slow as the lion leapt down to save the high king from Jadis before ultimately defeating her. Alongside the girls, you raced down the hill to join them. Sharing Susan's concerned expression, you asked, "Where's Edmund and my—"
Peter noticed your worry, eyes rounding in realisation as he dashed off in a direction, with the rest of you following. Arriving just in time, you witnessed Ginarrbrik, the witch's manservant, poised to strike what appeared to be Edmund kneeling beside a fallen figure. Susan swiftly shot the dwarf down with an arrow, prompting you to rush forward.
To your horror, instead of finding the injured king as in the story, it was Wooyoung lying there, clutching his abdomen. Edmund explained, "I'm sorry. I should've listened to him when he told me to run. He shielded me when the witch attacked."
Turning to the youngest, you urgently requested, "Lucy! The cordial from Father Christmas, please!" She handed it over, and you watched anxiously as Wooyoung swallowed a drop. Slowly, colour returned to his face, and he opened his eyes. "Hey, love."
Tears of relief and anger filled your eyes as you hugged him tightly. "Don't 'hey' me! You scared me half to death, you idiot!"
He chuckled and hugged you back. "I thought you were more worried about him. But I saved him, didn't I?"
You tightened your grip on him. "Yes, but not like this, Jung Wooyoung."
"Must you really leave?" Queen Lucy's voice carried a hint of sadness as you and your boyfriend prepared to depart after the royal coronation. You struggled with how to explain to her that your departure signalled the end of this chapter of the story, though you dared not utter those words outright.
Seeing her crestfallen expression, clearly still reeling from Aslan's departure, made it even harder to say goodbye. You offered her a comforting smile and gently patted her head. "I'm sorry, Lu. But we really must go. Our journey isn't over yet."
"But where will you go?" the child's voice quivered with uncertainty.
Your boyfriend's grin was reassuring. "Ah, that's our secret. But rest assured, we won't forget you or the adventures we've shared."
After bidding farewell to all the characters from the first instalment of The Chronicles of Narnia, you and Wooyoung returned to the exact spot where you had entered the world. Hand in hand, your steps slowed as you approached the familiar lamppost that had greeted you upon your arrival.
"So, how was that for an adventure?" Wooyoung asked, breaking the silence as he pulled you close to him.
You melted into his embrace, a smile spreading across your face. "It was amazing."
He smirked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Really? But you didn't even get to steal King Edmund's heart."
You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Oh, stop it, you!"
He chuckled, his tone turning slightly more serious. "I guess it was fun being new characters in a story. But wouldn't it be nice to live the main characters' lives instead?"
You gently pulled away, taking his hand and leading him back towards his wardrobe. "I suppose it would be, Woo. Let's go."
Be careful what you wish for; that adage couldn't have been more accurate. As you ventured through the wardrobe with your boyfriend trailing behind, your eyes widened in astonishment when you emerged into a scene completely unlike your shared apartment. Taking in the surroundings, you recognised the breathtaking interior of Rivendell, or Imladris in Elven-Tongue, a place you had always dreamed of from the Lord of the Rings.
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"Woo?" you called out, but he wasn't there.
Instead, you found yourself face to face with a mirror, and you gasped at your reflection. You recognised the Elvish features, reaching up to touch your pointed ears and the long hair cascading below your waist. The elegant gown confirmed your suspicions: you were Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar. But if you were Arwen, then that would mean your boyfriend was the Ranger of the North.
That fool... he jinxed it.
Unlike in Narnia, you weren't a new character here. Suddenly, you were hit with a surge of sorrow, as if you were experiencing Arwen's emotions firsthand. Her father's disapproval of her love for Aragorn, a mortal, echoed within you, reminding you of the struggles you faced with your own parents. The memories flooded in, replacing those of Arwen and Aragorn with moments between you and Wooyoung, making the situation feel eerily real. It brought back the times when your parents had opposed your relationship, insisting you deserved someone better.
You immediately realised the part of the story you were in. The War of the Ring raged on, and evil spread throughout Middle-earth. Your father, Lord Elrond, had been urging you to depart for the Undying Lands, a place of safety far from the conflict. However, the thought of leaving your lover, who was on a quest to fight evil and protect Frodo, the Ring-bearer, filled you with reluctance.
Just like in the story, you faced the dilemma of choosing between your immortal heritage and your love for a mortal. The parallels between your situation and that of Arwen and Aragorn were striking, and it sent shivers down your spine. You knew how it went in the tale; she eventually gave up her immortality to be with him. It was almost uncanny how similar it was to your reality, where you had fought fiercely to be with Wooyoung despite your parents' objections, which left you currently with a strained relationship with them.
Standing in the familiar area filled you with a sense of dread. This was the moment where Aragorn would soon depart for battle, and where he would tell Arwen to leave for the Undying Lands for her own good. But now, with Wooyoung by your side, you knew things would be different.
Despite the eerie familiarity of the scene, you felt a newfound determination. As if guided by some unseen force, you approached the spot where Aragorn and Arwen would have their fateful conversation. This time, though, you were ready to make a different choice.
As you approached Wooyoung, your heart raced with fear and urgency. "Woo! Why didn't you come to find me? Were you really going to leave like he did?" The dread you felt wasn't just Arwen's; it was yours too. You realised this when he let out a deep breath and met your gaze with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine.
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"You know, maybe your parents had a point," he began, his words cutting through the air. "You are their daughter after all, and that will never change. I'm just another guy you're dating, and guys come and go. Perhaps it's not so rational for you to ruin your relationship with your parents just for an outsider like me. Besides, maybe you do deserve someone much better."
Your heart sank as his words washed over you, and you frowned in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?! We both know what Elrond said to Aragorn right before this scene. Don't tell me that silly little talk really had you doubting our reality?"
He sighed heavily, his expression pained. "But is he wrong, though? Maybe Arwen was a fool for staying... In the end, Aragorn dies of old age anyway, and she continues to live on in sorrow. What if our reality isn't that far off? Maybe it'll only end in pain?"
His words pierced your heart like a dagger, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. The weight of his doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you, threatening to suffocate you. But deep down, you knew that despite the risks and the potential for pain, your love for him was worth fighting for.
Gathering yourself, you took a deep breath to steady your thoughts before speaking. "I understand you might be influenced by Aragorn's feelings, just as I am by Arwen's. But deep down, I know you don't truly mean what you're saying. Regardless, we both know how this story unfolds in the end. If you must go, then go. I'll see you soon. Have fun beating up the bad guys, Woo."
A hush fell between you both as he absorbed your words, his tough exterior crumbling. Regret clouded his features as he stepped closer, reaching for your hands. "Wait, you're right. I... I must have been too swept up in Aragorn's emotions. I'm so sorry, love."
You smiled, gently cupping his face. "You said it yourself, how nice it would be to live the lives of the main characters. Look at how it turned out, huh?" you teased, and he flushed with embarrassment. "God, I'm such an idiot."
You smirked. "You always have been."
He grinned. "Well, now that we're the main characters, perhaps we can reshape the story and make it our own. You've always dreamed of being in Rivendell. Let's use this opportunity to explore the place."
You scoffed, though a spark of excitement ignited within you at his suggestion. "But don't you have to leave for battle?"
He rolled his eyes. "Gurl, Sauron and his army of clowns can wait. Now, come on."
Hand intertwined with his, you dashed through the exquisite halls of Elrond's house. Your heart soared as you absorbed the surreal surroundings, the sight of Wooyoung's reassuring presence ahead of you filling you with joy. This was the very scenario you had dreamt of for so long – being in this fantastical place with the one you loved.
Your steps faltered as you reached what seemed to be the area where the Council of Elrond took place, where the Fellowship of the Ring was first formed.
"We're actually here, holy crap," Wooyoung muttered in amazement.
You couldn't help but giggle. "Is that cooler than the fact that you're Aragorn? Speaking of which, I'm so envious of you."
He raised a brow. "For what? You get to hang around here and look so beautiful all the time while I go out and fight evil."
You nodded. "Yeah, but you get to be with Legolas all the time."
He snorted in disbelief. "Unbelievable... I'm never letting you near him. First, King Edmund, and now the blonde elf."
You pouted. "Pfft, it's not like there's ever been anything between Arwen and Legolas. You have nothing to worry about. Plus, you'll have Éowyn falling at your feet later on. Let's hope you still remember me by then."
He sputtered at that. "In case you forgot, she got rejected anyway."
You scoffed. "Yes, but that was Aragorn. The same can't be said for you."
His jaw dropped. "What—hey! You're the only one for me, no matter the universe!" he insisted as you continued walking, grinning in satisfaction for catching him off guard as you moved on to the next location.
"Ah, this is where that iconic scene took place," your boyfriend remarked as you stepped onto the moonlit bridge, reminiscent of the moment when Arwen handed her necklace, the Evenstar, to Aragorn. It symbolises her love and defiance against her father, signifying her choice to give up her immortality to be with him.
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Standing in the same spot as the characters in the movie, you watched as he retrieved the jewellery from his pocket. "Come, my lady. Would you like to recreate that scene?" he asked playfully, holding out the pendant.
Meeting his gaze, you took a deep breath before reciting your favourite line, "I would rather share one lifetime with you... than face all the ages of the world alone."
At that moment, the playfulness faded from his expression, and he sensed a deeper meaning behind your words, a reflection of your genuine emotions toward each other. Recalling a past conversation where you admitted that without him, you might have chosen not to love at all, he was deeply moved. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours, conveying his affection. Pulling back slightly, he grinned, "That has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me. Can you say that to me every once in a while?"
You chuckled, giving him a playful smack on the chest. "If that's what it takes to stop you from annoying me, then yes."
"Hey!" he protested, chasing after you as you ran off to explore other areas of Rivendell.
As you wandered, you recognised the next destination instantly—it was where Aragorn dreamed of his time with Arwen. With a grin, Wooyoung sauntered over and lay down on the futon, attempting to recreate the scene once again. You stood where the she-elf had stood, watching him pretend to wake up.
"I am asleep. This is a dream," he recited Aragorn's words, and you burst into a small giggle. Settling down beside him, you recited Arwen's line, "Then it is a good dream. Sleep," before leaning down to kiss him as she had.
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Deep down, you both wished to stay in this fantasy forever, but you knew you had to part for the story to progress. He sighed as you pulled away. "As much as I'd love to keep staying here with you, the war isn't going to win itself. I'll see you at the end of the story."
You nodded, kissing him again. "See you, Woo." He winked as he got up from his spot. "Don't worry, I won't spare Éowyn a glance."
Laughing, you waved as you watched him go.
You anticipated what was to come next, knowing that it was the day when most of the elves in Rivendell would depart for Valinor, the Undying Lands. It was the moment when Elrond would once again attempt to persuade Arwen to go with them.
As you lay on the futon in your room, watching the white curtains flutter gently in the breeze, you prepared yourself for the inevitable. Just as your thoughts turned to your boyfriend, your father entered, speaking in Sindarin, the Elven language. Remarkably, you comprehended every word.
"It is time. The ships are departing for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late."
Oh boy, here we go.
You immediately sat up from your position to respond, "I have already made my choice." Elrond took a step closer to you. "He is not coming back. Why do you linger here when there is no hope?" You gazed up at him, overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your being that were Arwen's, as you answered, "There is still hope."
Because you knew there was.
As he continued his monologue, which you had already heard more than once and knew was coming, it still hurt. His words reminded you that no matter what, choosing to be with Aragorn—or in your case, Wooyoung—would only lead to pain. Tears streamed down your cheeks, his words echoing the sentiments you had heard from your parents when they desperately tried to separate you and your boyfriend, telling you he could not offer you much and that you would only end up regretting your decision.
"There is nothing for you here. Only death," he uttered, and your heart broke despite expecting those words. The words sounded eerily familiar to what you had heard in a different context, where Wooyoung would not be able to bring you everlasting happiness and his perceived incompetence would eventually disappoint you.
No, that's not true...
But you felt a new emotion when Elrond sat down beside you, looking down at you with so much pain in his eyes. You could see he was not ready to lose his daughter. It must have been cruel for him that his daughter was choosing to die and leave his side.
He wiped your tears away gently. "Do I not also have your love?"
For once, you empathised with his feelings and wondered if this was how your parents felt. You used to view Elrond as the bad guy for constantly trying to separate his daughter from the man she loved. Were your parents also like him? Were they afraid of losing you? Maybe they just didn't know your boyfriend well enough and didn't trust him yet to take care of you. You felt yourself crumbling under the weight of these thoughts.
"You have my love, father," you cried as he enveloped you in his arms. Perhaps you were a bad daughter, not for choosing to be with Wooyoung, but for failing to help your parents understand why you chose him.
If you couldn't ease your parents' worries in reality, perhaps you could do it here for your fictional father. You were certain Wooyoung would understand; none of this was real anyway. He was still yours, and you would always be his. Maybe, just maybe here, you could be a good daughter to Elrond.
Joining the rest of the elves and making your way towards the ship to Valinor, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty gnawing at you. Despite your initial determination to stand firm in your decision to pick your boyfriend, you found yourself swept along with the crowd. Just like Arwen, you were heading towards the Undying Lands.
However, unlike her, you didn't have the vision of her child with Aragorn to sway your decision. You already knew how her story ended. Perhaps it was up to you to create a different ending.
Forgive me, Woo.
As the story reached its climax and the victory over Sauron marked the beginning of a new era for Middle-earth, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Finally, it was Aragorn's coronation in Minas Tirith, and Wooyoung turned around excitedly after Gandalf placed the crown on his head. Throughout the events, he had fun experiencing what the ranger did, but his thoughts were consumed by you. Maybe living the lives of the main characters was more burdensome than enjoyable.
After exchanging words with Legolas and anticipating your arrival, Wooyoung turned expectantly, only to find you missing. You did not appear the way Arwen did for Aragorn. The realisation dawned on him with dread—if you weren't there, it could only mean you must have left for Valinor. He approached Lord Elrond, whose expression remained unreadable, and asked, "Did she...?"
As your father bowed his head slightly and offered a pat on the shoulder, Wooyoung's heart sank like a stone. The weight of the realisation pressed down on him: you had chosen to leave. But why?
What had prompted you to go, despite your promise to reunite with him here? Had Elrond's words swayed you? Did they somehow make you see that perhaps your parents had been right all along? You had warned him not to let the emotions of his character overwhelm him, but had you succumbed to them yourself? These questions swirled in his mind, leaving him grasping for answers.
"She hoped you'd understand," Elrond said.
Your boyfriend offered a humourless smirk. "That I'd understand...? I suppose I do."
"Do you really? Tell me what you understand then," your voice chimed in from behind him, causing him to whirl around with wide eyes. There you stood, a mischievous grin lighting up your face. "Surprise, Jung Wooyoung. Did you think I wasn't going to come back to you?" you whispered, prompting him to cup your face tenderly. "You little minx," he muttered before capturing your lips in a loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the crowd.
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As you pulled away and embraced him, you caught sight of your father's gaze. The expression on Lord Elrond’s face as he let his daughter go was a mix of love, fear, and vulnerability. It was the look of a father releasing his child to pursue something he didn’t entirely approve of but knew would bring her happiness. He struggled to maintain his composure, torn between his paternal instincts and the desire to see you happy. That night, you eventually broke away from the group bound for Valinor and returned to Rivendell, much like Arwen did. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Wooyoung, and you knew you could never let him go—neither in your world nor in this one.
"You know, I was just thinking... being the main character really isn't all it's cracked up to be," your boyfriend mused as you both lay in the King's chambers.
With your head nestled on his chest, you nodded, "I agree. It made me feel way too much emotion. But... I do think it's time I talk to my parents about us. They're my parents, and you're the love of my life. I can't imagine life without either of you. Hopefully, they'll be as understanding as Elrond was."
He smiled, pulling you closer, "Yeah, maybe we should have made more effort before."
Cuddling closer to him, you continued, "Yes, maybe... but yeah, we've already played the roles of both new and main characters. Perhaps it'd be nice to simply exist in a story without importance just like extras."
He sighed, kissing your head, "That does sound nice... We'll just be spectators, enjoying our place in the universe."
Closing your eyes, you sensed a peculiar shift in your surroundings, almost like you were on a train. When you opened your eyes again, you furrowed your brows in confusion. You were still in Wooyoung's arms, but Middle-earth was nowhere to be seen.
Shaking your boyfriend awake, you felt his body tense beside you as he tightened his grip on you. With a gasp, he absorbed the new setting. Indeed, you were on a train, but not just any train...
The Hogwarts Express.
Locking eyes, you whispered in unison, "We're going to Hogwarts."
As if on cue, the lady pushing the trolley of sweets appeared, her voice chirping, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Before you could decline, Wooyoung swiftly released you and darted forward. "Ooh, yes! Two pumpkin pasties, please! I've always wanted to try them," he exclaimed, rubbing his palms together eagerly.
You tugged at his shirt, glaring, and silently mouthed, "Do we even have any money?" He froze, realisation dawning, and reached into his pockets. With a sigh of relief, he produced some coins. Winking at you, he grinned, "Don't worry, love. I've got this."
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As he finished the purchase, he lingered by the door, watching with wide eyes as the lady rolled her trolley to the next compartment. With his jaw dropped in awe, he turned to you, whispering excitedly, "Oh my god, it's Harry Potter! Holy crap, the Golden Trio is in the next compartment."
Rushing back to settle beside you, he handed you a pumpkin pasty and began talking animatedly while stuffing his face, his words muffled, "I recognised that look on him. We're in the fourth year."
You raised a brow, "Goblet of Fire."
He nodded eagerly, "Exactly. The Triwizard Tournament and, most importantly," you both said in unison, "the Yule Ball."
You pondered, "Hold on a second. If we're in the fourth year, then that would mean we've already been sorted. Which houses do you think we're in, Woo?"
He grinned, "Only one way to find out," as he reached for your suitcases from the rack above your seats.
With bated breath, you watched him work on opening them. "Let's hope we're in the same house. It would be funny if you ended up in Slytherin somehow," you remarked.
He scoffed, "No way, I'm a Gryffindor through and through. Wanna bet?"
You shook your head, "No, thank you."
He pouted, "I was going to ask for a kiss if I won the bet, darn it."
You chuckled, "Hurry up, you rascal."
As he opened the first suitcase, he grinned at you, revealing the red Gryffindor scarf along with his uniform. "I told you," he chuckled before moving on to the next one. "Keep your fingers crossed, love," he urged. And you did. When he finally opened them, you couldn't contain your joy at seeing the same scarf along with your robes.
Moments later, the two of you stood in awe at the unbelievable sight of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before your eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you squeezed Wooyoung's hand. "We're here, Woo. We're really here," you whispered.
He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "We are."
Before you could continue revelling in the moment, a nearby prefect rolled his eyes. "Move along, you two. You act like it's your first time here," he said with a shake of his head. Your boyfriend tugged you along as you blew a raspberry, muttering under your breath, "Because it is."
Entering the castle, you noticed a crowd gathering by the bridge, evidently anticipating something exciting. Gasping in excitement, you quickly pulled Wooyoung along. "We have to see this! It's the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students."
As the Beauxbatons arrived in their majestic flying carriage and the Durmstrang in their impressive underwater ship, your boyfriend's attention remained solely on you. Sensing his gaze, you turned to share a smile. "That's right, keep your eyes on me just like that. I better not catch you gawking at the Beauxbatons girls when they make their grand entrance later," you teased.
He laughed and drew you close, whispering in your ear, "Don't worry, you're prettier than all of them combined."
Blushing, you looked away. "Pssh, sweet talker," you responded with a playful roll of your eyes, unable to suppress your grin.
But as the girls from the foreign school made their entrance, dancing into the Great Hall later that evening, you couldn't stifle a snort at Wooyoung's reaction. Like Ron, he was clapping enthusiastically, clearly impressed by the display.
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Pfft, all men do is lie.
Beside you, Hermione and Ginny exchanged judgemental stares, mirroring your own sentiments. It was hard to contain your amusement as you watched the boys.
When the guys from Durmstrang made their grand entrance, you found yourself staring dreamily ahead, just like Wooyoung had done with the Beauxbatons girls. Thankfully, your boyfriend didn't discriminate; he seemed just as entranced by the dashing and charismatic Viktor Krum as you were.
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You burst into giggles when he finally met your gaze with wide eyes. It was his fanboying moment, and you couldn't blame him because you felt exactly the same. You still couldn't believe you were really here with him. Sure, you had already been to Narnia and Middle-earth, but the Wizarding World held a special place in both your hearts.
The next day, seated beside your boyfriend in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, you both observed with amusement as Mad-Eye Moody began his lesson. The students appeared bewildered by his aggressive demeanour and uncomfortable lecture on the three Unforgivable Curses.
Wooyoung leaned in to whisper in your ear, "What do you think would happen if we exposed him as Barty Crouch Jr right here?"
You turned to shush him with a glare. "We're just extras here, so please act like it and avoid drawing any attention to ourselves."
The rest of the class unfolded exactly as you had anticipated, with Harry growing increasingly suspicious of Moody as the professor continued to gulp down his Polyjuice potion. You and Wooyoung exchanged knowing grins, rooting for him.
After class, you both hurried excitedly to the Great Hall, where students interested in participating in the Triwizard Tournament were submitting their names. Settling on a bench, you watched in fascination as the blue flame flickered brightly, students from all three schools stepping forward to cast their papers into the fire.
Your hearts sank when you saw Cedric Diggory eagerly submitting his name. If only he knew the tragic fate that awaited him.
"I suppose there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" Wooyoung asked, his tone heavy with resignation.
You shook your head sadly. "I'm afraid not."
The sombre mood only lasted so long as the Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared with their usual antics, brandishing their ageing potion in hopes of submitting their names to the Triwizard Tournament despite Hermione's reminder that only seventh-years could participate, you and your boyfriend couldn't contain your laughter. True to your expectations, the twins were ejected back from the goblet, sprouting white beards and sparking a playful fight that drew a crowd of onlookers egging them on.
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However, the atmosphere shifted when Viktor Krum marched in with his headmaster trailing behind him. You and Wooyoung shared a giggle as the Durmstrang heartthrob locked eyes with Hermione.
Leaning in, you whispered in a hushed tone, "If not Harry, I still prefer Hermione with Viktor over Ron, to be honest."
Your boyfriend feigned offence, pressing a hand to his chest. "How could you? Hermione and Ron are the one true pair."
As the two of you engaged in your heated debate, time flew by and the next thing you knew, Dumbledore entered the hall with most of the students, announcing, "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection." Exchanging a knowing glance with your boyfriend, you both sighed in anticipation. "Oh dear, here we go."
As Dumbledore announced Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric as the champions of their respective schools, you held your breath, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Harry Potter, the boy who lived. "Excellent! We now have our three champions!" boomed Dumbledore, his voice reverberating through the hall before unveiling the Triwizard Cup.
You winced, murmuring under your breath, "Only one more to go."
Beside you, your boyfriend shook his head with a hint of amusement. "Man, if only they knew the Cup was turned into a Portkey, none of that drama would happen."
You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "Yes, and then there would be no more story to tell now, would there?"
He snorted softly. "True."
As Harry's name was called out, disbelief swept through the Great Hall. You watched with a sinking feeling as even his friends began to stare at him accusatorily, wondering how he managed to enter his name into the Goblet of Fire when he was only a fourth year.
Your eyes landed on Mad-Eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Jr in disguise, knowing he was behind this sinister plot. Exchanging hopeless gazes with Wooyoung, you both understood that, at this moment, you were nothing more than spectators. There was no action you could take; you were simply here to witness events unfold.
Perhaps, as much as you wish otherwise, some things were simply meant to be. Your boyfriend covered your hand with his, offering comfort. "Since we can't change anything here, let's not stress about it and just enjoy the moment, hm?"
A smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "You're right, Woo."
"There he is—the poor thing."
You both were hanging out in the courtyard, enjoying the calm before the storm of the Triwizard Tournament's first task, when you spotted Harry passing through, looking visibly distressed. Your sympathy for him grew as you remembered the strained dynamics between him and his friends. Ron and the others firmly believed that Harry had somehow entered his name into the tournament and deliberately kept it from them. It was disheartening to see no one on his side, and you felt frustrated on his behalf.
As expected, Draco Malfoy, with his trademark smugness, decided to provoke him. "My father and I had a bet, you see," he said, dropping down from his perch on the tree. "I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in the tournament." His cronies followed suit as he continued, "He disagrees; he thinks you won't last five."
You and Wooyoung watched as Harry retaliated, standing up to the blonde Slytherin with fiery determination. "I don't care what your father thinks, Malfoy! He's vile and cruel, and you're pathetic."
Just as expected, Draco attempted to strike back, only to be swiftly turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, eliciting laughter from the crowd. It was perhaps the only time you agreed with Barty Crouch Jr's actions, the only moment he seemed remotely likeable.
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However, the amusement was short-lived as Professor McGonagall appeared to play the role of the good cop, firmly instructing Moody to release the bully from his transfiguration punishment.
"My father will hear about this!" Draco's famous words echoed across the courtyard as he hurried away from the scene he caused. Though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't interfere, his irritated state got the best of him, prompting him to slyly stick out his foot and trip the Slytherin as he passed by the two of you.
"How dare you!" Draco hissed, glaring up at your boyfriend.
Gasping, you dragged Wooyoung away with you, shouting, "Sorry, he didn't mean it!"
From across the courtyard, you caught Harry's eye and saw him nod appreciatively at both of you. Wooyoung beamed, waving enthusiastically before watching him go.
Turning back to your boyfriend, you smacked him lightly on the arm. "You! I can't believe you did that," you chided.
Wooyoung stuck his tongue out playfully. "Well, it sure feels satisfying, doesn't it? Besides, Harry acknowledged us."
You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I suppose so."
The next day, you found yourselves seated among the crowd at the stands, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the first task: retrieving a golden egg guarded by a dragon. "Bets, place your bets!" Fred's voice rang out, followed closely by George's enthusiastic calls for wagers. "Bets taken, bets taken here!"
As the twins walked around, collecting bets on who would win first place, you sensed your boyfriend about to place a bet himself. With a disapproving click of your tongue, you shook your head. "It wouldn't be fair when you already know who wins!"
He shushed you with a grin. "All the more reason to place my bet! When else will I ever be this lucky, love?"
Resigned, you gave up and shook your head in mock exasperation.
As you watched the first three champions' attempts with bated breath, your nerves were on edge despite knowing they would emerge unscathed. Sensing your anxiety, Wooyoung took your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You already know how it ends."
With a sigh of defeat, you leaned into his side, seeking comfort in his warmth as he wrapped an arm around you. "You're right, I do know," you murmured softly.
Your thoughts drifted to Cedric, and a pang of sadness washed over you as you remembered his tragic fate. It was difficult to watch him knowing what awaited him, but you found solace in your boyfriend's reassuring presence.
When it was finally Harry's turn, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the task, despite knowing the outcome. Every moment felt tense and fraught with danger, and you held your breath until he emerged victorious, tied with Viktor for first place.
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Reflecting on the experience, you realised that being part of the scene was far more stressful than reading about it or watching it in a movie, especially when you cared deeply for the people involved.
As the Gryffindor common room buzzed with excitement and everyone crowded around Harry that evening, who proudly displayed his golden egg containing a clue for the second task, you and Wooyoung hung back, observing from a distance. Amidst the cheering and clamour, you both knew what was coming next.
When Seamus tossed the egg back to Harry, urging him to reveal the clue, you exchanged knowing glances. As he held the egg aloft and asked the crowd if they wanted him to open it, the room erupted in enthusiastic agreement. But you and your boyfriend were prepared. With a shared understanding, you plugged your ears, bracing yourselves for the inevitable shrieking noise.
Oh, you're all going to regret that.
As expected, the piercing screech from the golden egg sent everyone in the common room to their knees, hands clamped over their ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Amidst the chaos, Harry quickly shut the egg, bringing a momentary relief from the ear-splitting sound.
"What the bloody hell was that?"
Ron's abrupt entrance, punctuated by his exclamation, broke the tension in the room, casting a palpable awkwardness between him and Harry. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of unspoken tension, until one of the twins intervened.
"Alright, everyone, go back to your... knitting," Fred declared, breaking the spell of discomfort. "This is going to be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."
The crowd dispersed, giving the two friends the privacy they needed to reconcile. As Ron and Harry finally made amends, you and Wooyoung shared a smile, feeling genuinely happy for Harry. For now, at least, things were looking up. And the best part of it all was yet to come—the Yule Ball.
You and Wooyoung exchanged eager glances as McGonagall began the dance lesson to prepare everyone in Gryffindor for the ball. Dancing had always been a fun pastime for the two of you, but now, being able to do it alongside your favourite characters and in your favourite fantasy world filled you with excitement.
As the professor made poor Ron demonstrate a dance with her, eliciting stifled laughter from the onlookers, she finally called out, "Everyone, come together! Boys, on your feet!" The girls eagerly stood up, ready to dance, while the boys groaned, leaving Neville and your boyfriend as the only ones rising from their seats.
"Wow, you're really lucky," Hermione remarked from beside you as Wooyoung made his way towards you. Unlike the others who struggled to find partners, you didn't have to worry. "He's hardly ever far from your side. You both seem genuinely in love."
You nodded, offering a shy smile, "Thank you, I believe so too."
As he pulled you into his arms and started dancing alongside Neville and Ginny, Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "So, what did Hermione say to you?" You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, teasing, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He pouted, drawing his forehead close to yours. "Please, I really would like to know," he pleaded.
You chuckled, giving in to his curiosity. "She said I was lucky to have you, and that we seemed really in love." His playful grin shifted into a sincere one. "Well, she's right about that," he admitted warmly.
You smirked, teasing him further. "To be fair, when is Hermione Granger ever wrong?"
He shrugged, conceding the point. "Hmm, I guess you're right."
The following days were filled with hilarity as you witnessed Harry and Ron's struggles to find dates for the ball. The ginger's dramatic theatrics, particularly after embarrassing himself while trying to ask Fleur Delacour, provided endless entertainment. Meanwhile, poor Harry faced rejection from Cho Chang, who had already accepted Cedric's invitation.
From your corner of the couch, you and Wooyoung snickered at their misfortunes. Eventually, they settled on asking Padma and Parvati Patil. Before you knew it, you were also preparing for the ball. Like magic, you and your boyfriend found your dream outfits in your dorm wardrobe, ready to make a grand entrance at the event.
While your boyfriend had shown you his outfit for the event, you opted to surprise him later in the evening. Inspired by Hermione's iconic entrance, you planned to arrive early and make your own grand appearance without overshadowing her.
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Wooyoung waited patiently outside the Great Hall, his heart quickening at the sight of the beautifully decorated winter-themed hall. "Hey, isn't that your girl?" Cedric nudged him, directing his attention to the staircase. Following the Hufflepuff's gesture, his breath caught as he watched you descend, momentarily capturing the crowd's attention with your shy smile.
With graceful steps, you made your way down in an off-shoulder black floor-length dress, adorned with delicate gold patterns that exuded elegance and regality. Unlike others, you chose to leave your hair down, adding a touch of effortless charm to your appearance. Despite having seen you in numerous stunning gowns from Narnia and Middle-earth, you never failed to leave him awestruck with your beauty. Perhaps he was biased, but to him, you were the most captivating presence in the room. And being his favourite colour, black only enhanced your allure in his eyes.
He whispered, "I'm the luckiest man alive, I swear," and you giggled. "Stop it, you," you playfully chided as you fixed his slightly crooked bow. As you did, he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and continued, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful girl here."
You nodded, leaning in to peck his lips before replying, "And you're the most handsome boy here." His cheeky grin widened, and he responded smugly, "I know."
Pulling you gently towards the hall, he said, "Let's go eat before all the dancing starts."
The night passed in a whirlwind of dancing, with Wooyoung holding you close throughout, growing protective whenever he sensed other guys eyeing you. As the event gradually wound down, you found yourselves still on the dance floor, swaying together.
Slowly, a sense of drowsiness began to wash over you. Maybe it was time to return to reality. You knew what would come next in the story, and with the impending challenges and heartaches, you weren't sure you wanted to witness it firsthand. Perhaps it was best to leave the Wizarding World on a high note, with fond memories.
You exchanged smiles with Neville and Ginny, who were also enjoying the moment nearby. Then, you sighed and rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling his reassuring embrace. "Woo?" you murmured.
He kissed your cheek softly. "Yes, love?"
Tightening your hold around his shoulders, you snuggled into the crook of his neck. "I'm tired... I think I'm ready to go home."
He smiled, his heart growing warm at the thought of home as he leaned his head against yours. "Me too. I guess that's enough adventure for now."
Living out his fantasies had been incredible, but perhaps he, too, was starting to feel a bit homesick and ready to return home.
He gently stroked your hair as his eyelids grew heavy. Sometimes, the allure of escaping into fantasy worlds was irresistible, offering a temporary reprieve from the challenges of reality. But as the quiet settled around, Wooyoung knew that no matter how enchanting these worlds might be, they were only temporary escapes.
The surroundings gradually quieted, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the comforting familiarity of your shared bedroom. You were nestled in his arms, peacefully asleep, and he had never felt more relieved. Drawing the covers snugly around you, he felt a deep sense of contentment settle within him.
"Home. We're home," he whispered, finally allowing himself to drift off into a restful sleep, grateful to be back where he truly belonged with you by his side.
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This is as good as a compilation of some of my favourite parts from these film series. I know this might not be for everyone, but I wrote this mainly just to fulfil my own fantasies hehe.🙈
If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! Are you also a fan of these AUs? Let me know in the comments! <3
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@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |
@writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 @pandabur666 |
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@haven-cove
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
242 notes · View notes
elysianiki · 27 days
Text
୨୧ MEND YOU ─ PSH
☆   ⋆   𝑝. 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇  ・  𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋  ・  𝑤𝑐. 17OO  ・  𝑐𝑤.   ・  𝑔. 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍  ・  𝑠𝑦𝑛. 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗇 — 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿
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Initially, when your boyfriend, Sunghoon, invited you to this event as his plus one, you declined as you weren’t fond of large crowds. However, he was adamant and pleaded for you to attend. So here you are, sat at a round table, holding your drink in your hand as he sat next to you.
You could feel the taunting eyes upon you, critiquing glances that made you self-conscious and weary. As if you hadn’t wanted to be there in the first place, all these looks that other guests, specifically Sunghoon’s parents, gave you made you want to shrivel up and cease to exist.
“I’m going to use the washroom,” Sunghoon whispered to you. “I’ll be right back.” he excused himself, and before you could protest, he was already headed away. It was as if fate had turned against you.
You sat silently, occasionally sipping your drink as Sunghoon’s relatives chattered. You couldn’t stand the awkwardness of sitting in a group of people you had just met. The feeling gnawed at you, quietly dying inside as discomfort rose from your presence.
“Your name’s yn, right?” Sunghoon’s mother asked with a feigned grin. You nodded, wishing for the conversation to end at that. Unfortunately, the universe had other ideas.
“I was just curious…” her voice trailed, looking toward the others for reassurance before proceeding. “Why are you with our son? He’s way too good for you.” She chuckled, sitting back in her seat.
You glanced at the faces that laughed along before looking back at her, shocked by the disrespect. She looked attentively at you, mocking you for even attending and criticizing every aspect of your appearance.
“That top would look better on a dog. It’s not flattering at all, and the color is disgusting,” You couldn’t even defend yourself before Sunghoon’s mother suddenly sat straight, her eyes focusing past you with yet another fake smile.
As Sunghoon sat back down, you could feel the apparent change in the atmosphere from just seconds ago. Your face was burning from the blatant embarrassment that was placed upon you. You stayed silent, avoiding judging eyes while tears welled up in your own.
You felt yourself break inside. You wanted to go home and sob into your pillow but didn’t want to upset Sunghoon by going home early. Suddenly, you felt his hand grab yours from under the table while the others continued talking and laughing. One look at his face, and you felt the warmth radiate from his presence. You squeezed his hand gently in yours, tears daring to fall.
“You want to go home?” He whispered, his breath lightly caressing your skin. You nodded, relieved he suggested it rather than having to sit through this dread.
He informed the others as you gathered your things, feeling the judgemental eyes that followed your every move. Sunghoon guided you outside and opened the car door for you. You tried to collect yourself, wiping the tears from your flushed cheeks.
It was a silent car ride all the way through. You looked out the window as Sunghoon’s eyes glued themselves to the road. He held your hand tight, lightly skimming his thumb across your skin as comfort.
You wouldn’t say anything, even if you could. You needed the silence. His presence alone made you feel at ease, but it would quickly be disrupted by remembering what his mother had said. You felt disappointed in yourself for allowing her words to affect you this much, but a part of you believed the words she spoke to be true. Sunghoon was more than a dream to you. He was everything you wanted from a partner and more, so why did you deserve him?
You squirmed, letting go of Sunghoon’s hand and curling up into a ball uncomfortably in the car seat. You rested your head against the window, your thoughts racing faster than your heart. You closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep and hopefully forget the events.
Before you knew it, you were in Sunghoon’s arms. You looked at him as he carried you in from the cold, airy night. You held him tightly, closing the distance between you with the embrace. You suppressed your face in his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin against your chilled cheeks. Being in his arms felt relieving, his velvety skin brushing against yours as you entered the toasty apartment. He gently placed you down, your bare feet grazing the frigid floor as you held your heels in one hand.
“You seemed pretty upset,” Sunghoon paused, looking at you expectantly. “What happened? Did they say something?” You wanted to tell him but knew how close he and his family were, so you kept silent.
“Come on, yn, talk to me,” he said as he lightly placed his hands on your shoulders, his eyes locking on yours with a worry behind them. You deflected his gaze, attempting to keep your emotions locked inside. You wanted to sob into his chest, but you collected yourself as you finally spoke to him.
“I was just… I couldn’t stand being alone in there,” Your eyes were wandering, still evading Sunghoon’s. “I started to panic because I didn’t know anyone there.” Your voice trailed, your heart rapidly beating as you stared at the floor. Sunghoon pulled you close, the warmness exerting from his chest onto you. You wrapped your arms around his waist as his chin rested on your head.
“I’m sorry,” He said, his voice faint. “I shouldn’t have left you there like that. I’m sorry, babe.” You frowned, knowing how worse the situation would have been if you had told him the truth. He pulled away, grasping your hands as he looked fondly at you. He leaned in, kissing your forehead as you held yourself together.
A few months had passed since the gathering, but an aching feeling ate away at you the more you saw Sunghoon. No matter how much you tried to push the thoughts away, it never seemed to leave. His eyes were so soft, so fond, but all you could see was the reflection of yourself in those giant, brown orbs.
“What’s wrong?” A prominent frown substituted the usual grin that painted his lips. You turned away, your hair falling to the side of your face. He reached to tuck the stray hairs behind your ear, but you pulled away, refusing to look at him as you did so. He stared at you, eyes scouring your figure, trying to decipher why you’d been pushing him away. He wondered why you no longer smiled, laughed, or teased him like you used to, why the two of you started to argue more, why you always locked yourself in the bathroom, and why you no longer went on dates. Things the two of you had previously enjoyed were now something you both dreaded. You became an all-too-serious and dissimilar person from the girl he used to know—the girl he used to love. Sunghoon didn’t know how to love this side of you when he clung on so hard to the person you used to be. He didn’t know how to communicate with this side of you because you refused to talk to him, regardless of his attempts.
Sunghoon stood up swiftly, exiting the apartment before you could speak. You sat there silently, not wanting to acknowledge the problem you had pushed him away.
It was late, and you hadn’t been able to sleep. You wandered the empty apartment, your mind fuzzing as you walked. Your heart ached; this feeling of inadequacy feasted on you. The comments you had received from Sunghoon’s mother and relatives left you feeling dejected. How were you supposed to face him with this fact after so long?
You noticed the mirror next to the TV as you approached the front door. You stared at your reflection, resentful of the appearance that stared back. You couldn’t help but examine your features, picking apart every detail of your face. You hated how you looked, and it was evident. You tried to avoid mirrors at all costs but couldn’t escape it. You could see the sadness that crept into your eyes, your cheeks becoming flushed. You wanted to pull your hair out in frustration.’Why aren’t I pretty?’ The question rang throughout your mind.
It was always that question that made you weep, make your heart ache with an indescribable sadness you had yet to overcome. Your eyes swelled with tears as your nose began to run. You tried to bite back the whimpers; your clothes felt suffocating. A lump formed in your throat as the salty taste of your tears reached your lips. You crouched close to the ground, your body slumped over as you held your teary face in your palms, muffling your cries. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you gasped for air between sobs.
You heard the door open with a jar: Sunghoon’s face appeared, plastered with worry as he looked at you. You glanced at him, his figure obscured through the tears that filled your eyes. You stood abruptly, rushing into him and wrapping your arms tightly around him. He held you close, his embrace affectionate and soothing. You sobbed into his chest, utterly inconsolable, as he gently massaged the back of your head.
“I’m sorry, Hoon,” You cried, gripping his clothes tight as you looked at him. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I haven’t been a good girlfriend.” You sputtered as Sunghoon wiped the tears from your face.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just tell me what’s been going on.” His sincere eyes were laced with unease as he looked deeply into your tear-filled ones. You hesitated, not knowing if it would help this situation.
“Your family, your mother,” Your voice quavered, reluctant to continue. “At that event a few months back, they kept insulting me and my appearance.” You avoided eye contact and were cautious of what he might feel due to this information. His expression was unreadable, an undetectable emotion layering his face as he looked at you.
“No matter what they say,” His voice was light, almost inaudible as he looked at you. “I will always love you, yn. Nothing they say can change my view of you. I hope you don’t underestimate my love and care for you. You’re my everything, yn; nothing could change that.”
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  𖥔 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 : @wonsdoll @flwrstqr
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135 notes · View notes
jarofstyles · 10 months
Note
harry damn near begging for yn and being needy, mouthing at her neck chest and stomach while she’s trying to read plsss
PLEASE I LOVE THIS SHIT!
Patreon.
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Harry was a horny little menace. But god, was he a convincing one.
It had started when he crawled into her cozy little nest in their bed, cooing about how pretty she looked. In her glasses and her hair thrown up in a bun, along with a few pimple patches, she was sure she wasn't at her prime but it always did give her butterflies when he complimented her in her most relaxed, vulnerable state.
When he asked what she was read, she explained the general synopsis of what had happened so far- a royal romance, enemies to lovers-, and he had snuggled closer. Freshly showered, he was shirtless in just in a pair of grey sweats, skin and hair still slightly damp as he rested his head on her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the pages. But his intentions weren't pure.
"Oh? This is one of those dirty books, isn't it?" He cooed. Of course, as fate would have it, he had turned up during one of the smut scenes in the book. He knew she read filth, had an entire collection of smut ridden books, but this time in particular he felt rather smug about catching her.
"They're all dirty books." She drawled, turning the book so he could see better. He had a one track mind though, and turned his face to bury in her neck with a deep exhale. If he was being honest, he had been aching all day. Y/N had teased him slightly over text and he knew coming home that she would be in his shirt, looking so soft and familiar, he simply wanted to bury himself in her and never leave. Getting to see her so warm and relaxed, it did things to him.
"I have a better idea." He murmured into her skin, kissing the smoothness of her neck. "Why don't we have our own fun, hm? Been gone all day, wanting to come home... and you're reading' about other people having sex." He grunted, slipping his hand under her shirt, nosing at her like a needy pup.
"Well, yes." Y/N laughed through her nose. "I do tend to do that. I enjoy reading some tasteful sex scenes. Beautifully written ones. Is that so wrong?"
"Never said it was wrong, sweetness. Just said the obvious. M'home now, you don't need to read about it." His hand found her breast as his kisses moved up towards her jaw, sloppy with his movements and smearing the wet kisses over the curve of it. "You can experience anything y'want with me. M'ready to role-play, even. Just let me into that pretty pussy, and I'll make all those dreams come true, off the paper."
Of course Y/N knew she was fighting a losing battle- one she very clearly wanted to lose, based off of the sudden awareness of him in between her thighs and his fingers gently plucking her nipple. He liked to beg for it a little bit, though, so she sighed. "I dunno, H. This scene is really good. Maybe you'll just have to wait." The tone of her voice sounded serious but they both knew the game. This was part of it.
"Please, baby?" He whined. "Just a taste of it? Or... can let me warm myself inside of you." His teeth nibbled under her ear, a sweet spot he knew would cause damage to her resolve, sucking on the skin. Y/N felt it between her thighs. That familiar pulsing, her clit beginning to swell, her hole beginning to leak. Harry had quite the effect on her every single time, but hearing him beg always did it to her.
"Please, jus' let me make us feel good. Know you love t'be nice and full, can have it stuffed in you in just a few minutes... get you to feel it in your tummy, baby." He pleaded. "Cmon. Can make it so good for you. Missed feeling you wrapped around me all day, didn't get enough of you this morning." A horny thing he really was. "Can't help that you feel so good that I need you all the time, but m'dying for it. Been thinking about it all day long, just let me slide in." He continued with the begging, slipping his hand back down to the band of her panties.
When Y/N didn't tell him off, he slipped his digits between her thighs and let out a strangled moan. "Fuck me, baby. You're dripping." He whimpered. "Please, let me have it. Let me feel you around my cock, babylove. It aches, you're the only way to fix it." He was getting desperate, rubbing against her thigh as his fingers slid up and down her wet slit. "M'begging you, my love. Let me in."
"Okay, baby. Okay." Y/N laughed at his desperation. "You can slip inside, but you can't move until I finish this chapter." Harry didn't need further instruction, slipping his pants off and tugging her panties to the side with impatience. It took him but a few seconds to do it, spreading her legs open as he turned her on her side so he was spooning her from behind and letting himself in. Slowly pressing the ruddy, leaking tip of his cock through the soaked folds of her puffy cunt and finding her hole, notching against it before pressing inside.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." His whimper was vibrated against her ear, making her clench slightly around him. He was truly desperate for it, letting her stretch as he sunk in inch by inch and rested his head against her cheek, hand going back up her shirt. "I'll be good. Promise."
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amirasainz · 5 months
Note
Hiiii! I love this series and can you write where Amira and Dominik Szoboszlai (He's so fine🤭) go on a date and paparazzi was stalking them or something and Carlos and the grid go crazy and go on protective mode. After that every time she wants to go out someone has to go with her
Hi loves! I hope you enjoy reading my writings. My requests are always open.
-XoXo
The Szoboszlai case
Charles couldn't believe it. He had his phone in his hands, a picture of Amira and Dominik Szoboslai open on his Instagram. The two of them at lunch. Her, wearing a pretty blue of the shoulder summer top with shorts. Her hair done in beautiful summer waves. A light make up, that highlights her warm chocolate brown eyes. A content smile resting on her face. And then there was him, with his stupid smirk. And stupid hair. And his stupid hand resting on her perfect arm. How. Dare. He?!
When Charles first arrived at the conference room, he found himself alone. Seeking a moment of respite from the impending chaos of the Ferrari garage, he pulled out his phone. Instagram beckoned, and he hoped to catch glimpses of his beautiful girlfriend or their pretty babygirl. But fate had other plans.
Suddenly, Charles’s screen flooded with images of Amira Sainz sharing dinner with that infuriating footsy player. His mind raced, emotions colliding like race cars on a tight circuit. The room, once empty, now teemed with drivers, FIA employees, and officials. Max, seated next to Charles, leaned in. “Charlie, mate, are you alright?” he asked, concern etching his features. The other drivers followed suit, their collective gaze fixated on Charles. Carlos chimed in, “Yeah, Lord Percival. You look really pale.” The chorus of agreement echoed around him, a symphony of curiosity and worry.
When Charles remained silent, Lewis laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Charles, hey buddy. Talk to us. You’re kind of scaring us.” Encouraged by Lewis’s words, Charles turned his phone toward the others. The room erupted with various reactions. Carlos looked as though he’d seen a ghost, while Mad Max made his first appearance in five years. Pierre let out a blood-curdling “Nooooo,” Alex and George scrambled to catch a fainting Lando, and even Yuki dropped his Dino nuggets—a sure sign of shock.
After five tension-filled minutes, Daniel broke the silence. “We can’t let anything happen. This can’t turn into something,” he began. “Hell, boys, we won’t let a stupid football—” “Um, you mean soccer,” Logan interjected. “Shut up, Logan,” Max retorted. Daniel continued, carefully navigating Carlos’s presence, “Steal our … friend.”
Carlos, lost in his own world, grappled with the image of his perfect baby sister spending precious time with a stupid football player—someone who didn’t even play for Real Madrid. How could she? So imagine Carlos’s surprise when he was suddenly slapped across the face. All eyes turned to Charles. “Sorry. Are you with us again?” No one—not even the nice lady tending her Greek garden in Italy—expected the kind Monegasque to snap Carlos out of his panic with a resounding slap. “Always, Percival,” Carlos reassured. While the other drivers still reeled from the unexpected incident, the two Ferrari boys had already begun plotting how to keep Amira away from Domi—no, from Szoboszlai. (He didn’t deserve to be called by his first name.)
And boy, planning, they did.
The drivers constructed a kind of timetable for spending time with her. For example, Oscar would have the honor of spending every Monday dinner with her, from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. George, on the other hand, would enjoy Wednesday mornings in her company—a fact he promptly shared with Carmen, who was more than delighted. Kika and Pierre were allowed Thursday lunchtime visits. The two of them had initially hoped for overnight stays, but Carlos put his foot down. The mere thought of them manipulating their way into sharing a bed with her… Well, Carlos didn’t even want to entertain that idea.
During Qualifying, Red Bull had the privilege of calling her their VIP guest. The race would be watched in the Ferrari garage, with her seated between their cousin and their Papá—or perhaps cuddled up between Rebecca and Alex.
So imagine Baby!Sainz’s surprise when she returned from her lunch with Dominik, who had been so friendly as to gift her a Versace necklace. She was immediately surrounded by Alex and Fernando. And the revelation that the two of them were friends? Well, that was a twist she hadn’t seen coming.
So everyday she would spend every hour of every day with either a driver, a wag, or both of them. And for some reason, Pierre and Kika always insisted on taking a shower during Thursdays lunch time. Together. But who was she to deny the princess treatment from them.
And Dominik?……. I'm sorry, who?
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sweetvoidstuff · 8 months
Text
Chain the change
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Cha Hyun Su x Reader
Summary: Tensions rise as Green Home votes to evict Hyun Su.
Autors Note:I haven't written stories in quite a while, but I have the desire to pick it up again. English isn't my native language, so I welcome any constructive criticism. Particulary with the titel.
the next part, kinda
Masterlist
~~~~~
The tense atmosphere in the room was palpable as the tenants of Green Home Apartment gathered for the crucial vote. Whispers of uncertainty echoed, and the weight of judgment hung heavy on your shoulder. Demending on this vote Hyun Su would be thrown out or even worse.
Mister Kim's sudden outburst shook the room, his face contorted with rage as he screamed at the other tenants to rid themselves of Cha Hyun Su. The atmosphere, already tense, reached a fever pitch as fear and confusion spread like wildfire. Whispers of disbelief and unease swept through the gathered crowd.
Amidst the chaos, Hyun Su stood at the end of the room, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Mister Kim continued his fervent tirade, demanding that they take matters into their own hands. "We can't let him ruin our lives! We have to get rid of him now or he will turn and kill us all!" he bellowed, his voice echoing in the confined space. Hyun Su, the center of this storm, stood amidst the turmoil, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. The room held its breath as the realization of the severity of the situation dawned on everyone. Hyun Su struggled to find words to defend himself, caught between the accusations and the impending decision that could change his life.
It was in this moment of tension that you, a bystander until now, felt compelled to speak up. Amidst the chaos, you stepped forward, breaking the silence with a declaration that sent ripples through the room. Standing firm, you declared, "If you're going to throw him out, then I'm leaving with him." The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward you. Your statement hung in the air, a challenge to the collective judgment of the tenants.
The gravity of your words added a new layer to the already charged atmosphere. The tension in the room transformed into a palpable conflict of emotions—fear, anger, and uncertainty mixing together. The decision now rested not only on Cha Hyun Su's fate but on the willingness of the community to confront the consequences of their actions. Not just one, but two lives on the line.
Hyun Su, taken aback by your unexpected stance, tried to interject. "This is unreasonable," in a hushed wisper he argued, concern etched across his face. "What if I turn? What if i become a monster and hurt you?"
Your response was unwavering. "If you're a monster, then all of us are. Listen to what they say, what they are willing to do!," you proclaimed, your words echoing with defiance. "I'll stay with you till the end, whether that's until you fully turn or if it costs me my life. I won't abandon you." Hyun Su, torn between gratitude and concern, tried to reached out to you.
The room erupted into chaos, the revelation sparking heated debates among the tenants. Some questioned the logic of such a decision, while others began to grapple with the profound loyalty you displayed. Mister Kim's hostility turned towards you, his anger now directed at anyone who dared to oppose his extreme proposal. He advanced, his face contorted with rage, but before the situation could escalate further, Hyun Su stepped between you and Mister Kim. The room held its breath, the confrontation reaching a critical point.
At this moment blood began to trickle from Mister Kims nose. First slow but soon a stream of blood ran down his shirt. The room fell into a hushed symphony of gasps, the ominous precursor to a transformation. Eun Hyeok, attempting to calm the panicked crowd, pleaded for reason, but the tenants, gripped by fear, were hesitant to listen.
Hyun Su's own monster stirred, responding to the threat. His eyes turned black, his voice, now laced with a dark undertone, with a smirk he questioned, "I have a question. Am I allowed to vote? If I go, Mister Kim has to go with me, right?"
Eun Hyeok, sensing an opportunity for reason, interjected, "You don't have to do this. Quarantine might be the best option here. For both of them."
Eun Hyeok, taking charge in the midst of the chaos, directed the tenants to assist in quarantining both Hyun Su and Mister Kim. The room shifted from pandemonium to a controlled frenzy as the tenants reluctantly followed Eun Hyeok's instructions.
Hyun Su and you walked side by side towards the makeshift quarantine room. You felt a strong urge to comfort Hyun Su but hesitated, mindful of the other tenants surrounding you. Instead, you decided to take his hand, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. Your fingers gently intertwined with his, and Hyun Su's initial surprise was evident on his face. However, as the warmth of your hand enveloped his, the surprise transformed into a grateful acknowledgment. In the midst of uncertainty, your touch became a lifeline, a tangible reassurance that he wasn't facing this ordeal alone.
As you entered the room, a mix of trepidation and gratitude painted Hyun Su's expression. The solidarity you showed, both in words and actions, had not gone unnoticed.
Gently squeezing his hand once more, you whispered words of comfort, "We face it together, Hyun Su. I'll be back with food later. We'll get through this." Hyun Su nodded, his eyes expressing a blend of gratitude and relief.
Inside the quarantine room, the air felt heavy with the anticipation of Mister Kims transformation and maybe even Hyun Su's that loomed ahead.
Inside the quarantine room, you maintained your grip on Hyun Su's hand until the last possible moment before reluctantly letting go. Your eyes conveyed a silent promise: I'll be back. Hyun Su nodded, gratitude and understanding mirrored in his gaze. You reluctantly released Hyun Su's hand, a sense of reluctance evident in your eyes. "Take care of yourself in there," you said, your voice soft but filled with genuine concern.
Hyun Su managed a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you. " I never expected someone to stand by me like this.
With a final reassuring glance, you left the quarantine room, the makeshift door closing behind you. The hallway outside seemed quieter, the echoes of the recent tumult still lingering in the air. As you stepped back into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the decision lingered. The small act of holding Hyun Su's hand, you couldn't shake the weight of the decision made and the potential consequences it held for both Hyun Su and the community.
Meanwhile, inside the quarantine room, Hyun Su took a deep breath, a mix of emotions swirling within him. Gratitude overwhelmed him for your unwavering support, and hope flickered in his eyes as he prepared to face the challenges ahead. The makeshift quarantine became a refuge, a space where the unknown awaited.
Back in the hallway, the other tenants exchanged glances, a shared uncertainty written on their faces. The community was at a crossroads, and the decisions made in the coming days would shape the fate of Green Home Apartment.
As you ventured away from the quarantine room, the weight of your commitment lingered. The promise of bringing food later held a sense of normalcy in the midst of chaos, a reminder that even in uncertain times, small gestures of kindness could make a difference. The journey ahead remained uncertain, but for now, Hyun Su found solace in the fact that someone had chosen to stand by him, reach out to him, in his time of need.
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railingsofsorrow · 10 months
Text
day-off
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: dad!spencer spends his day off with his daughter.
pairing: s.reid x reader (ft. eden reid)
w.c: 721
warnings/content: no warnings; father-daughter moments; fluff; tw!braids!! (solely because I suck at making them)
A/N: one standalone drabble for the eden reid collection (I think I'm gonna do a masterlist for that, we'll see)
want to read more works about this au?
→ recharging
navigation
masterpost
cm masterlist
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“What are you doing?”
Spencer's hands halted in the midst of folding a pink skirt. The corner of his lips wavering as his daughter buried her small feet on his socks, which promptly swallowed almost all of her body up.
“Do I look pretty, daddy?” Eden twirled around to show off her new style. He couldn't stop the laugh upon realising they were mismatched pairs.
Spencer crouched down to her height, ruffling her untamed curls which causing her nose to scrunch up cutely.
“You look absolutely dazzling, princess.” He voiced his fondness while scooping his little girl up in his arms and sitting down on the edge of the bed. The unfolded laundry forgotten behind them as Spencer grabbed his phone, something he only recently figured out worked for everything, including selfies. How could it be that a small device was able to provide so much functionalities? He still didn't know how to use half of them. But he could do selfies.
That didn't mean they'd be good.
“C'mon,” Spencer nudged her closer, not that Eden complained, she only snuggled closer, her cheeks squishing as both made faces for the camera that was in selfie mode, then Spencer shifted to their wriggling feet covered by mismatched socks.
TO YOU
[10:03a.m] What do you think?
[10:03a.m] Recording.mp4
Eden giggled after he showed her the sent video.
“Let's see if your mom approves our new look.”
Eden didn't warn him before throwing her whole body on him. With a groan, Spencer dramatically fell on the bed, earning another high-pitched childish laugh.
“Ah! I've been struck.” She kept throwing pillows at him as he expressed his surrender by covering his eyes with his forearms, making sure to always keep one eye open to check if she was too close to the edge of the bed. When one of her feet got tangled with the bedsheets, he pulled her up to the opposite side. “Hey, hey, what did I say about jumping on the bed?”
Eden flashed her innocent puppy eyes at him and suddenly Spencer was actually surrendering. “Don't do that.” He warned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The warning went on deaf ears for a while but it bought him enough time to fold the rest of the laundry as she made a mess on the bed.
His phone pinged, letting him know of a new message. A smile stretched across his lips as your name popped up on his screen.
TO SPENCER
[10:20a.m] Love this <3
[10:20a.m] Now I miss the two of you :(
TO YOU
[10:20a.m] Eden's is asking for you to come home.
TO SPENCER
[10:21a.m] Don't tempt me!!!
[10:22a.m] Love, is that the “folded laundry” behind you...?
TO YOU
[10:25a.m] ( Picture attached )
[10:25a.m] It's folded now :)
Spencer brushed his daughter's strands back softly, pondering the variety of ways he could style her hair for the day. Eden was munching on her sliced apples as her morning snacks, pretty distracted in her own world and watching a cartoon about a ladybug and superheroes. Spencer could never recall the name, he'd just watch it with her.
“I want braids.” Eden spoke, not taking her eyes off of the TV but still pretty aware of her surroundings. “Like mamma makes them.”
Spencer had to hold back a laugh because no, he thought, my braids will never be as remotely good as your mother's.
Letting out a sigh, he pulled a chair in front of the couch so she could sit down and he could work on her hair without interrupting her entertainment.
“Okay.” Spencer said, accepting his fate. He had faced a lot of things in his life, but none were in the shape of braided hair. They could defeat him easily and he had admitted that a long time ago even if you say that it's just practice and that you'll learn eventually. He hasn't learnt yet. But if that's what Eden wants, that's what Spencer would (try) to do.
He wasn't able to say no to his tiny human.
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taglist: @lilyviolets
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