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plutoswritingplanet · 8 months ago

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.4 (final)

a/n: we did it Joe! this chapter officially marks the first ever series i've completed lmao. thank you for all the support on this fic, every like, every comment, every out-of-pocket anon ask.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (like...fr this time), Blood and Violence, Manipulation.

Summary: After the wedding, Husband and Wife work out the intricate web of their relationship.

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Gurney looks at you as if you're already dead.

You hide from his gaze, ducking behind pillars, whenever you can hear his footsteps. It's truly depressing, the way your mentor shakes his head, as if, instead of looking at you, he's looking at a coffin. You suppose he might be right, he's the one with the most experience in the Harkonnen area. He's fought them, dined with them, seen their customs through and through. And now, his dutiful little student is about to be thrown into the very same world, he has relayed to you as a nightmarish fairytale. Still, a little misplaced optimism wouldn't kill him. Or just, a sliver of hope, an inclination that you might survive this.

The day of your wedding rolls upon you like an oceanic storm, all chaos and rumbling.

Here you sit, your bones locked with nerves, as the servants pack away your things. A futile thing, you muse to yourself. It's highly doubtful the Harkonnens will let you keep any personal items back from Caladan. They'll mold you into their image, until all your hair naturally falls out. The thought would make you laugh, but here's a servant, placing your jewelry into a case, which lands in a bag, which will be transported to the Harkonnen ship by the end of the day.

Your room, the place you've spent all your life in, slowly becomes more and more barren.

The closet stands empty, so do the drawers. All your trinkets are swiftly transported away until you're left alone in your wedding dress, the only familiar thing between the hollow ribs of your life's sanctuary. Wishing you could fold the entirety of the castle, with the stables, and the horses, and the cliffs, and throw it into the final suitcase, so you can open it up in times of turmoil, and breathe in the familiar scents. You need to leave, right now. Sitting like this, wrenches a dangerous numbness out of your chest. And you can't be allowed to dissapear into yourself. You're an Atreides, you shall wear your pain with dignity, as per your Mother's wishes.

Your wedding dress swishes around you, as you stand up from your bed. It's much more classy, and less of a chiffon catastrophe, than your engagement dress, a welcome change. The veil is embroidered with light crystals and metal plating. It falls heavily over your face, and jingles when you move. By all intents and purposes, it is a dream dress. A dress you'd like to wear for a wedding of your own, a wedding with some dashing gentleman. A gentleman, which in your most private of dreams, has the face of Duncan Idaho, with silver rings braided into his hair.

Instead, you're left with this monster, so alien and cold. A beast at the center of the maze.

The bull looks at you from the wall. Its horns, smeared with your Grandfather's blood, curl grotesquely into the ceiling. The head is mounted above the doors to the library, a grim reminder of his spectacular death. As a child, you'd spend hours, standing right here, at the entrance, staring at the animal's head. You've always wondered, whether it were the lights playing tricks on your mind, or you saw a shadow of pride in the bull's eyes.

Did it know who was its victim? The leader of one of the most important Houses in all known universe laid dead at its feet. Did it know what sort of spectacle it produced? What destruction of hubris? You suppose it couldn't, it was an animal, after all. A headless creature, hung on a wall. Still, you stare at it, just like you used to, trying to decipher your own fate from its cold, dead eyes.

After all, there will be a spectacle, a life-long fight stands ahead of you. Giedi Prime shall be your arena, dead and cold, covered in black. And every single Harkonnen will be your bull, their mere presence a deathly danger to your being. It took one bull to end your Grandfather, you dread to think how many it'll take to end you. There will be blood, you're sure of it. And if things were allowed to go your way, it would flow in rivers upon rivers, through the industrial halls of Giedi Prime. You'd have the entire planet drowned in their blood. Your cursed betrothed, the Baron, the fucking Emperor if you had to.

The bull laughs at your quiet hate, beady eyes bearing down upon you in an imaginary display of indifference. You huff, cheeks reddened, insides twisted and burning.

That's how your Father finds you. Enchanted by a once living instrument of death.

He hasn't spoken to you, since your betrothed has arrived, not really. Not like you used to talk. A way to shield himself, you supposed, from the Emperor's order, which will soon enough take his only Daughter away from him. This was your superpower. You could fish out signs of love in every action.

- Your Mother hates that thing - he comments, as he stands next to you, eyes looking up at the bull.

- I don't blame her, the sight is quite disturbing. - you reply evenly.

You've missed him, more than you can possibly explain with words. But teary displays of affections were below you, especially since you're trying to distance yourself, rise above your body, float right out of your head. Perhaps it'll hurt less that way. Duke Leto Atreides turns to you, and for the first time in a month, you recognize your Father behind this statue of authority. He looks troubled, for lack of a better word. There's much more gray on his brow and the lines of his face are darker, harsher.

- I came to give you something - he announces, producing a small object out of the pocket of his trousers.

It's harder than you thought, tearing your gaze away from the bull, but you manage, your eyes landing on a figurine in your Father's hands. Your heart stops, as you recognize the blackened stone, polished to perfection. On a flat disc stands a figure of a Matador, proud and posed. Next to him, a bull, ready to strike. It's cold to the touch, when you take it from your Father, ridges of the small sculpture digging into your palm.

Jumping in front of danger, for better or worse. Your head starts to hurt.

- Father - the sound of your shaking voice carries through the corridor - How will I ever survive this?

By the way Duke Leto Atreides sucks in a sharp breath, you can deduce the answer. And what a sad answer it is.

Your Father steps closer, gathering your trembling hands in his, the warmth of his embrace engulfing you like the first sun rays of spring. He squeezes your fingers, tightening your own hold on the small figurine, and his eyes are so incredibly sad, you're convinced they could make any heart in the universe weep.

- With courage - he says - and grandiose.

Like a true Matador would.

***

Your bull stands completely still.

His pale skin creates a beautiful contrast against the ever present darkness of the Harkonnen ship. It's so much different from your native fleet, all sleek and black, and efficient. Terrifying, but at the same time, strangely beautiful.

The both of you watch, as the hatch is being pulled up, slowly but surely obscuring all sight of your home planet. Of your family, standing by the docking station like a funeral parade. It's only when you can no longer see them, your life sealed with a click of finality, does your betrothed, now husband, move.

His hand grasps your upper shoulder, and you jump at the sudden contact. Your confused gaze is completely ignored, as the man drags you through the ship, taking large, hasty steps.

Hairless faces swish past you, all so similar to each other, you're worried you'll never figure out who is who. The corridors of the ship wind and turn like a merciless labyrinth, a realization daunting on you, that you will never be able to find your way in this place.

Suddenly, you're faced with a black door, which opens as soon as your husband walks up to it. His grip tightens and he basically throws you forward, watching you stumble through the entrance on weak legs.

It takes you a second to gather yourself, as you instinctually settle into a defensive stance. The room you're in looks quite different from the rest of the ship. It's much more luxurious, one would risk saying cozy. With a gigantic, round bed filled with pillows, a dark desk, and a deliciously comfortable looking armchair. It all dims in your eyes, however, as you look up at your newlywed.

He stands right at the entrance, blocking the only means of escape with his tall frame.

Both of you are still in your wedding clothes. Your dress hugs your body in a way that is anything but comforting. His outfit is as black and sharp, as all his attire. It exposes his lean physique, clings to his warrior's physique. Terrifying, your brain summarizes, muscles freezing suddenly. Feyd Rautha looks at you with emotions you can't decipher in the low light of his room. Your room. Your marital abode.

You can't breathe, lungs tighten painfull with the sheer thickness of the air between the two of you. Still, there's a certain power, residing in your bones, an inclination of a fight you're ready to put up, should he try anything. And by the way his brow bone settles over his darkened eyes, your husband seems to understand. What a terrifying thought. The sheer idea of finding a common ground with this awful man makes your guts turn.

He doesn't even flinch, when the doors behind him slide open. You however, nearly jump out of your skin at the sound, cutting through the deafening silence of the bedroom. With furrowed brow you watch, as three Harkonnen women spill into the room. All of them completely hairless, lips pulled back in feral snarls, as they regard you with an emotion you can only interpret as contempt. Their bodies, clad in typical, Harkonnen garments, flow and slither, when they gather behind your husband, like three hungry lionesses, their black eyes flickering to him, to you.

- Get her ready - Fey Rautha throws a command over his shoulder, eyes glued to you still, and his gaze drags itself across your body like tar.

This is the first time you've heard him speak since the wedding, and involuntarily, you cringe at the gravely sound. While he stayed silent, it was easy to forget who you're dealing with. But as soon as sound leaves his mouth, you're cruelly reminded of the roughness, and the strangeness of your life's partner.

The three women stir behind him, hands sliding up his body in a gesture, that is almost too close to reverence. He does look like a young god, like some ethereal being, but you're too distressed to dwell on that thought. Instead, your arms encircle your body, a shiver of terror and strangely, disgust flowing over you, at the mere idea of these women touching you. Then, one of those three strange creatures moves forward. She has a stripe of black running down her bottom lip, and her face twists into a cruel smile.

She says something in a language you don't recognize. Probably a native Harkonnen. A rough bark, her disgusted expression translating the meaning better, than any dictionary would.

Still, you have no time to process the foreign insult, because as soon as words leave her mouth, your husband turns. His white hand grabs the woman's hairless head, as one would pick an apple from an orchard, and then, you see a flicker of true terror flash through the woman's face. In a smooth, deadly gesture, Feyd Rautha smashes her face against the wall, the resounding sound of her skull fracturing against the concrete is like the cracking of a whip in your ears.

That's all it takes, one move, and she falls into a lifeless heap, sliding down the wall.

A sigh escapes your lips, as your eyes stay glued to her body. You can't see her face.

Your husband barks something towards the remaining two women, and they scurry towards you, heads hung low, bodies curled onto themselves. You don't know, whether he looks at you, acknowledges you in any way, shape or form. The doors close behind him, as he leaves you in the hands of his... Whatever these women are to him.

They begin to strip you where you stand. Their hands peel off your wedding dress from your trembling body, and every move feels like tearing skin from muscle. You can't protest, can't do anything really. Dark, thick blood pools around the third woman's head, dripping between the tilled floor, slowly making it's way closer to your feet.

When they pull you towards the bed, you say nothing. Let them massage your body with some ointment, which smells of heavy chemicals and scratches your throat.

Their hands are unexpectedly delicate. You suppose they're too scared to take revenge on you, or perhaps, they just don't care. Doesn't really matter, because you do. You really care, despite yourself. Heart squeezes in your chest impossibly tight, when they help you up from the bed, and once again you're confronted with the white corpse in the corner of the room.

The dress they pull over your body hardly qualifies as a garment in your eyes. It's made of delicate, sheer material, which barely covers anything, looking more like a courtain thrown over a window.

Is this how he wants you, you wonder. Terrified, bare, always on the verge of something, be it tears or anger.

One of the women steps in front of you, takes your hands in hers and rubs something into your cold bones. You try to catch her eye, try to decipher how to categorize them, as humans or as creatures, but she swiftly ducks under your inquisitive gaze. That is, until your eyes flicker towards the corpse once again.

Her hand shoots up towards your chin, dragging you back to meet her onyx eyes. You can see the reflection of your own confused face in the void.

- You- she rasps, her voice a grating symphony of gurgles and growls that stumble over the common language - Soft.

Whether it's a warning, or a threat, you can't fully decide, but it doesn't matter. Those two words tell you more about your future life, than any book, any archived account. This is what the Harkonnens are made of. Sensless violence, outbursts of anger, dark blood. You swallow thickly, and nod, your expression hardening in the woman's eyes. She looks as if there's something else she'd want to say, but her head ducks at record speed, when the sound of the doors opening cuts through the air once more.

For a longer moment you're completely devoid of words.

Here stands you husband, some sort of fruit in his right hand, two daggers hanging from the belt on his trousers. His chest, white and (unfortunately) toned beyond belief stares back at you. His unoccupied hand makes a wide gesture, and the remaining two women scurry off towards their third, dead companion. With quick hands, they grab the body and drag it out of the room, letting the door slide closed behind them. Immediately, you miss their presence, unnerving as they are.

Once again, you're left alone with the na-Baron.

His eyes float freely all over your figure, taking it in with an impassive stare. It's deeply unnerving, the way you're presented to him, the way he organized all of this, tailored it to his liking. You can't help it, the way your body begins to warm before him, skin becoming prickly to the touch, much too sensitive for the strange imitation of fabric covering it. Still, your mind stays sharp, and instinct kicks in, as you take a cautious step back, angling your bady away from him.

- So, what now? - you ask, voice rough, eyes following his every move.

And move he does, slowly advancing towards you. His feet, which you now discover, are bare, drag behind him. Grace and danger mix well within his movements, as he circles you, still without a word. You throat runs dry, when he bites the fruit in his hand, dark juice spilling all over his lips, drops rolling down his hands, his forearms. Your stomach churns.

- Now - again you're reminded of the gravely tones his voice can carry - We consumate our marriage, wife.

Somehow, your marital status sounds like a mockery spilling from his lips, and he laughs at the way your face scrunches.

- I don't want you to touch me - a lie, your entire body burns for any semblence of friction, but you're determined to keep some dignity.

To that, he nods his head in silent agreement, a gesture, which actually manages to surprise you. The fruit is thrown forgotten onto the floor. It rolls under the bed, and you fight the urge to reprimend your husband. Instead, you bite your lip.

- I thought you would say that - he murmurs, coming closer, his breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

The hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you crane your head to the side, so you can look him in the face. So he can see the disaproving expression, perhaps he'd feel a fraction of the hate boiling in your gaze. Then, you can feel something, cold and sharp, drag itself from the dip in your spine, all the way up to your shoulder blades. A gasp escapes you, and your entire body shivers violently.

- That's why I brought these. - Feyd Rautha whispers into your ear, and you can't help but sway lightly in your place, as if his words have the power to physically move you.

Then, your hand closes around a metal object, and you look down to be met with a beautifully crafted dagger. The blade is silver, shiny, and unbelievably sharp. It fits into your grasp as if it was made specially for you, and the possibility almost makes you smile. Then, confusion creases your brow, and your husband flashes you a deadly, black smile, as he steps back a couple of steps.

He's holding a blade as well, jet black and strangely matte, a perfect antitype of yours. There's a sort of lazy excitement about him, hidden in every movement. It reminds you of the way he'd behave in the arena, while making a spectacle of death for you and your family.

- I though this would work on you - he muses, twirling the blade in his hand, and your muscles seize with realization. - And it definitely works on me.

The idea is preposterous, utterly scandalous. Using a fight as some perverse attempt at foreplay, your brain swimms with conflicting emotions.

- You're being ridiculous - you attempt to diffuse the situation, but your husband doesn't budge, rolling his shoulders.

- Come on, wife - he snarls, with a sharp smirk - Don't you want to hurt me?

Something boils inside of you at his words. Some ancient, terrifying anger that you supposed, has always been there with you. From the moment you stepped onto the red carpet, leading you towards your undoing at the altar. Red, like the spilled blood still staining the floor of this bedroom. The rage, which you swallowed down, when you recited the vows, when you let him unveil your face, kiss you in front of the entire Atreides court. Now, it seeped through every pore in your skin, covering you in a tar like courtain.

You hate your husband. You hate Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Hate him for being your husband, for agreeing to this cruel match. For taking you away from your family, from your wise Father, and your strict Mother, and your sweet Brother. For ripping you away from love, which didn't even have time to properly bloom. Duncan's face dances in front of you like a taunting vision from an angry god, and your fingers tighten around the dagger.

Feyd Rautha is right. You want to hurt him. You wanted to, before you even met him.

- There you are - his lips pull back into a cruel, blackened smile of self-satisfaction - I was worried they took away all your venom, Viper.

You'll show him fucking venom, you think, feet sliding on the floor, twisting your body into a dancing position. Two sets of shields click into life, and suddenly you begin to understand.

This is your arena. This is your bull.

This will be your battlefield for the rest of your life, for as long as you're able to withstand it. With courage and grandiose, your Father's voice haunts you, but soon after another echo rises in your mind. Your Mother, your teacher, her whisper slithers from your memory, a passing comment right before you're shipped off to Giedi Prime, when she squeezed your hand so tight, you were worried tendons under your skin would snap.

Excitement and arousal flow freely from your husband's expression, as he watches yours harden. Something inexplicable settles over your features, a promise. You'll give him a fight of a lifetime, and he'll love it, every single time. It should unnerve you, the way his body lowers itself, like a panther ready to strike. It would've unnerved you some time ago.

Now, however, it shows you a clear path to survival. This is how you take control.

Cold blood splatters from under your feet, as you jump towards him, a series of measured blows following closely behind. He blocks them, lets some be pushed back by the shield. Then, he's on you, brutal and unhibited slashes fly around your body, and you meet all of them with a blocking blade. You're pushed back, towards the wall, where remains of the previous killing still stain the concrete. Blood seeps into the thin fabric on your body, and you shiver in disgust, as it sticks to you.

Your husband doesn't notice, his blade leaves a rather deep mark in the wall, as you duck under his arm, and avoid a nasty punch to the gut.

Plap, plap, plap, your feet carry you through the room, as you try to gain some leverage. The mattress on the bed is surprisingly soft, when you climb on top of it, gaining the advantage of a higher position. An advantage, which is quickly torn out of your hands, as your husband grabs onto your ankle, tugging at it with such force, you tumble down in an instant.

Panic rises in your gut, as the world sins around you, and without really thinking, you let your mind flow into autopilot.

- Let me go! - the Voice tears out of your throat like a landslide, and Feyd Rautha throws himself off of you, his body colliding with the nearby desk.

Books and papers crash to the floor with the force of his figure. Your head swimms, but you will it away, too focused on survival to care for your well-being. Both of you are panting, trying to recover from this sudden use of ancient magics.

- I should rip that treacherous tongue right out of your skull - the threat would carry more strength, if your husband's expression wasn't absolutely dripping with unabashed lust.

Never in your life has someone looked at you this way, and the shock of emotions is enough to pull you right to your feet. Your blade reflects the dim lights of the room, as you raise it high, body taunt and ready.

- You'll never get that close.

A challenge, which doesn't even have enough time to properly resound in the thick air of the room, before Feyd Rautha pushes himself off the desk. Things clatter to the ground from the force of his movements, and you barely have time to react, when his blade sinks into your shield. Your body flies backwards, falling in heap with his at the foot of your marital bed. The edge digs into your back, your left hand pressed tightly into the mattress.

He's hovering over you, panting like a wild animal, face illuminated red from below, where, just short of his juggular, your blade licks a stripe across his alabaster skin. His right hand is wedged between your bodies, dagger nicking you under your ribs. And you stay in this position, like a marble statue, your eyes melting into his, frozen in time.

- You fought well, Atreides - his voice rumbles deep within his chest, and you can't help, but snarl at his words. - We would've taken each other to an early grave.

Something dangerously close to fondness floods his features at the idea, and your fingers start to unravel, letting go of the dagger one by one. He doesn't have a chance to react, when your blade clatters to the floor, and your hand, now free, grabs the back of his head, pulling him down.

Your kiss opens the gates of hell, and soon, his own dagger is thrown across the room. You can't see, refuse to see, as your eyelids flutter closed. His lips are slightly chapped, but not any less delicious. Left hand thrashes in his hold, until he lets it go. Then, they both find purchase against his sharp cheekbones, and you hold him so tight, you might break his face with your ministrations.

- I knew it would work - he pants against your lips, you can hear the smile in every syllable.

- Shut the fuck up - you snarl, fingers digging deeper into his skin.

He groans into the kiss, immediately forcing his tongue into your mouth, as his hands work hard to manouver your legs open enough, for him to slot in between. Then, his touch is everywhere. On your legs, he drags the sheer fabric up and down your thighs, as he carresses your skin, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your hips. They venture upwards, to grab at your breasts, they fight their way into your hair, where he pulls and scrapes.

It doesn't matter, you think, when you hear the fabric tear, and the carefully chosen attire falls from your body. Nothing matters.

You're boneless and defenseless against this one insidious emotion, which carries your every move, which compells you to arch your back, to reveal your running pulse under his searching lips. Feyd Rautha bites down on your skin, right where your neck meets your shoulder, and you respond in kind, head descending upon his porcelain skin. He shudders under your teeth and tongue, his entire body tensing.

This is how you take control, and you've never felt so greedy.

His trousers aren't even fully off of his legs, when he enters you, clumsily and with urgency, bare feet sliding on the floor. Surprisingly inexperienced, he chases your core with his entire body, as if the heat of your insides in a completely foreign sensation.Your moan tears at the column of your throat, where his lips leave a trail of purple marks. The covers remains undisturbed, as your husband ruts into you, pressing your back harder against the edge of the bed. It's uncomfortable, it's hurtful, but somehow, it feels perfect for the two of you. Fucking like wild animals, not even able to make it onto the bed.

- I hate you - you repeat, like a mantra, broken voice cascading with every thrust. - I hate you, I ha-

Your head rolls backwards, when a particularly hard thrust nearly breaks you, but your husband is here to help, his hand grabbing the the roots of your hair, bringing your head down, so you can watch as he performs a magic trick of repeatedly disapearing into your body.

You're not sure who's blood his hand slips on, but suddenly, you're fully on the floor, your body crushed by his. Nothing stops his wild movements, not the sloppiness of it all, not the hard wails he tears from your body. If anything, the more strain his body is under, the more ferocious he's being. Your hand shoots up, all five fingers digging into his throat, and you're rewarded with an angelic moan, which almost brings you to your finish line. Almost.

His head leans down into the crook of your neck, where he whispers something in Harkonnen, a gurgle of rough sounds, interrupted by sinful moans. He sounds so beautiful, so conflicted, for a second you consider being gentle with him. Alas, you hate him still.

Another realization dawns upon you, as your feet kick with force into your husbands backside, to force him deeper, to keep him inside. This is still a fight. You're still on the battlefield, still waving a red flag in front of a raging bull. So, with courage and grandiose, your muscles tense, and you roll your husband over.

The change in position makes both of you gasp in unison, as you sink down onto him. For a second, everything stops. His lips are red and swollen, sweat and blood mix on his skin, flow down in pinkish stripes. And he watches you, as one would a holy painting of a foreign god. With reverence and utter lack of understanding. You're fully aware the look is mirrored on your face.

Slowly at first, your hips begin to rock, up and down, in a steady rhythm, that forces a shuddering breath to leave Feyd Rautha's lips. You bend down, to catch it, and because of your greed, you catch his bottom lip as well. The bite you give him is anything but romantic, and his hips jump from the floor, hitting a spot within you, you didn't know existed. He swallows your moan along with his own blood, and his fingertips map the curve of your spine, as you straighten upon him.

Fingernails latch themselves into the skin of his chest, as you speed up, chasing your own release and no one else's. Moans spill from your lips, the concept of shame abandoning your mind completely. Then, compelled by something dark and twisted you drag claw marks down his torso.

His body shudders, and his hips lift off the ground, fucking into you with reckless abandon. The hold he has on the flesh of your hips is bruising, to say the least, but you did enough damage to call it even. Enough, to make your body tremble and tense up, as climax creeps up on you steadily.

Like a shark sniffing for blood, he senses the change in your being, and as you tumble over the edge, a silent scream tearing at your throat, he suddenly rises into a seating position. His arms encircle you fully, pressing your sweaty bodies impossibly close, as he too finds his own end.

It takes him second, to tumble over, filling you to the brim with ink. His head buries itself into your shoulder, inhaling your scent through deep gasps, each eliciting a broken growl from his chest.

Your bones are gone completely, body relaxing and falling breathless into your husband's arms. After a while of sitting in complete stillness, he moves first. Strong hands lift you up, off of him, and you whine at the emptiness.

Then, as a last hurrah, he throws you onto the bed, where your recovering body sinks into the soft mattress. It's heavenly, the way you seem to float in nothingness, head swimming from exertion. For a moment you don't even register him climbing into the bed with you, drunk on the fading tension seeping from your every pore.

The lights are almost completely out, yet his skin shines against the black comforter. You wish to see if he's flushed, like he was at the engagement party. Leaning on one arm, his fingers trail around the small wound under your ribs. Dried blood flakes off of your skin, and you shudder again.

- I - you start, voice completely broken - I've never known hate, until I met you.

You're not sure why you've said it. Perhaps, in this moment of serenity, truth seems to float to the surface much more easily. Or perhaps you're possessed, or worse, gone completely insane. Eother way, your eyebrows furrow, and Feyd Rautha leans down to kiss your forehead, gently.

- If this is how your hate looks like - he whispers into your hairline, teeth scraping lightly against it - I dread to imagine your love.

You'll never find out, you think, but for some reason can't fully vocalize it.

He says something else, after a while, but your mind is becoming as heavy as your body, and as the day descends upon you in a heap of exhaustion, you fall asleep.

And while your story has nothing but suffering in the future, while there's death and mourning, and years of violence written in the stars for you. Right now, on the Harkonnen ship sailing through space to Giedi Prime, you sleep in the arms of your husband. Whether this strange symbiotic relationship will last, no one can tell, but there is hope, and what else could you possibly need?

#my writing #dune part 2 #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune smut #what a journey my gosh #thank you once again for following the story love y'all

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seongwars · 3 months ago

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forget me not | i

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.4K Warnings: smoking, swearing, hurt/no comfort

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a/n: the long awaited first chapter of my Yunho mini series I've been struggling with is finally here (and yes I was inspired by xxxholic)

Jeong Yunho considered himself to be lucky.

He had a successful career in investment banking at KQ Bank, where his strategic acumen and relentless work ethic had earned him respect and a solid reputation among his peers and leadership.

His social life was equally fulfilling; he mingled with influential figures in his field, enjoyed lively gatherings, and maintained a close circle of friends who valued his thoughtfulness and charisma.

And he was set to marry the love of his life–Haewon. Their engagement was the kind of story people loved to hear, a testament to their enduring love and shared journey from pulling all-nighters at the library to the challenges of real adulthood.

To those around them, their union seemed like a fairytale—a perfect blend of romance and stability that they had carefully cultivated over the years. Friends and family often remarked on how well-suited they were for each other, their complementary personalities creating a harmonious balance.

Yet, despite the joy and excitement that should have accompanied the impending nuptials, Yunho couldn’t shake the sensation in his gut that something was amiss. There was a persistent unease that clung to him, a whisper in the back of his mind that the world wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

The stark contrast between his inner turmoil and the outward celebration became even more apparent as he stepped into the vibrant atmosphere of his engagement party. The event was in full swing, alive with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Soft lights twinkled around the cozy restaurant, casting a warm glow over the guests who mingled and celebrated the joyous occasion.

Despite the festive atmosphere, Yunho found himself at odds with his fiancée. As he wove through the crowd, exchanging polite smiles and nods, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. He scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on Haewon. There she was, surrounded by her friends, her laughter ringing out above the din. She looked radiant, her face flushed with happiness, but Yunho couldn’t help but notice the almost empty glass of champagne in her hand. Again.

He made his way over to her, his steps slow and deliberate. As he approached, Haewon turned and saw him, her smile widening.

“Babe! Come join us!” she slurred, her voice bright and cheerful despite her flushed state. Her friends echoed her invitation, their faces glowing with the effects of the evening’s festivities.

Yunho forced a smile, trying to mask his concern. “Hey,” he greeted, slipping an arm around Haewon’s waist. “Having a good time?”

Haewon leaned into him, her balance slightly off. “The best time!” she exclaimed, her words blending together. She raised her nearly empty glass in a toast, her eyes sparkling with the effects of the alcohol. “To us!” she cheered, and her friends joined in, raising their glasses and laughing.

Yunho’s smile wavered as he felt the weight of Haewon against him. He could smell the sharp scent of champagne on her breath, and it only deepened his worry. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said, his voice gentle but tinged with concern. “Maybe it’s time for some water, yeah?”

Haewon pouted, her expression turning petulant. “Okay, fun police,” she chided, her tone playful but with an edge of irritation. “I’m fine. Just having fun with my friends.”

One of Haewon’s friends, Sungjae, sensing Yunho’s irritation, threw an arm around him and grinned. “Come on, Yunho, let her enjoy the night. It’s a celebration, after all!” he said, a hint of condescension in his tone.

Yunho forced a tight smile, feeling the weight of Sungjae’s arm on his shoulders. “I know,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Sungjae chuckled, giving Yunho a light squeeze. “She’s fine, man. It’s just one night. Let loose a little,” he said, his words slurring slightly. “You’re always so serious.”

“Yeah babe,” Haewon added, “Loosen up a little. Why do you care so much about what these people think?”

Yunho’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, not wanting to cause a scene. He could feel the eyes of their friends and family on them, the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions.

“It’s not about what they think,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “It’s about us. I want to celebrate with you, not just stand on the sidelines while you’re with your friends.”

Haewon rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. “So now I’m not allowed to have fun with my friends? Is that it? I thought we were having a party, not a private event just for the two of us.” She set down her champagne flute with a sharp clink, her irritation evident.

Yunho’s face fell at her sharp words, the frustration in her tone piercing through him. He took another deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “That’s not what I’m saying. Look, we should take this outside. I don’t want us fighting in front of everyone.”

Haewon, visibly drunk, glared at Yunho with frustration. “You know what? Maybe you should’ve been more clear about what you wanted from this party,” she snapped, her voice rising. “I’m here, I’m celebrating with everyone. Now you’re just making me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

Yunho’s shoulders sagged, frustration clouding his features as partygoers began turning their attention towards the couple. “It’s not about doing something wrong. I just wanted us to share this moment together, not have me feel like a spectator at my own engagement party.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not going to change how I enjoy myself just because you’re having a problem with it,” she retorted, turning on her heel. Sungjae followed her out as she stormed towards the exit.

“You’re always trying to play the role of the perfect fiancé, but it’s never about what I want or how I feel,” Haewon continued, her voice echoing through the hall. “Maybe if you stopped worrying so much about everyone else and focused on what really matters, you’d see that I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

Yunho’s heart sank at her words, the warmth and joy of the engagement party now feeling hollow. The lively chatter and music of the party seemed to blur into background noise as Yunho stood alone, grappling with the weight of her accusations and the growing distance between them.

Yunho Age 20

It was the spring semester of his first year of university. You had invited him over to your dorm to study together, and he was eager to catch up with you. As he approached your room, he could hear the faint sound of music and laughter from inside.

He knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a lively scene. You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and notes, while a girl with a bright smile and sparkling eyes was dancing around the room, her energy infectious.

You looked up from your study materials, your expression shifting from concentration to playful mischief. With a grin, you held up a hand and called out, “What’s the password?”

The question was delivered with a familiar teasing tone, and Yunho’s eyes twinkled with recognition. He didn’t miss a beat. “Spidey Swings,” he answered, his voice filled with the kind of nostalgia that came from years of shared jokes and childhood memories.

“Fine, I guess you can come in.”

Yunho stepped inside, the warmth of the room and the familiarity of the password bringing a comforting sense of home. The girl, still smiling, gave him a friendly wave before resuming her lively routine. You patted the space next to you, inviting him to sit down amidst the scattered notes and textbooks.

“This is my roommate, Haewon,” you added. Haewon turned to face him, her smile widening.

“Hi, Yunho! Nice to meet you,” she greeted with a small bow. “Sorry for the mess, we were just taking a break from studying.”

Yunho shook her hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed by her vibrant presence. “Nice to meet you too,” he replied, stepping inside and setting his bag down. “I brought some snacks. Thought we might need them.”

“Perfect timing!” Haewon exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We were just about to take a snack break!”

The three of you spent the evening studying, chatting, and laughing. Haewon’s lively personality added a new dynamic to the group, and Yunho found himself enjoying her company. She had a way of making everyone feel included and at ease, and it wasn’t long before Yunho felt like he had known her for years.

Yunho watched as Haewon discussed her passions—her enthusiasm for art, her love for literature, and her drive to make a difference in the world. There was a fire in her eyes, a passion that lit up the room and captivated Yunho. She spoke with an earnestness that was both refreshing and inspiring, weaving her dreams into the conversation with effortless grace.

As the evening progressed, Yunho found himself increasingly drawn to Haewon. Her warmth and generosity were undeniable, and he felt a growing respect and admiration for her. They exchanged stories and laughed together, and Yunho began to see Haewon not just as a friend but as someone who brought a unique and positive energy into his life.

As the night drew to a close and the room fell silent, Yunho realized the depth of his growing connection with Haewon. In the following weeks, they spent more time together, their relationship blossoming into a cornerstone of support and happiness that Yunho hadn’t known he needed.

A few weeks later, you found yourself sitting in Yunho’s dorm, watching him pace frantically. The light from his desk lamp cast long shadows, highlighting the stacks of textbooks and notes scattered around. You had come over, expecting a routine study session, but Yunho’s demeanor was different tonight—he was a nervous wreck.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, you felt a knot tighten in your stomach, sensing the gravity of the conversation ahead. You had always been there for Yunho, studying together and planning your futures, but tonight was different. Tonight, you were about to hear something that would cut deeper than you had expected.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About Haewon.” Yunho finally blurted out, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Yeah? What about her?” you asked.

Yunho took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say what he had been holding back. “I’m planning to confess to her. I’ve realized I really care about her—a lot.”

Your heart sank. You had noticed Yunho and Haewon getting closer, but hearing him say it out loud felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt.

“Oh, really? That’s great! Have you thought about how you’re going to do it?”

“Yeah, probably at the coffee shop she likes. Every time I’m with her, it just feels right. But I don’t want to ruin our friendship if she doesn’t feel the same.”

You nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. “That sounds like a good plan. The coffee shop is a nice, relaxed place. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the thought you’ve put into it.”

You sat there for a moment, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. You had loved Yunho for as long as you could remember. His laugh, his kindness, the way he always knew how to make you smile—everything about him had captured your heart. But you had never had the courage to tell him, fearing it would ruin the friendship you cherished so much.

“Just be yourself and be honest,” you encouraged him with a reassuring smile, though the lump in your throat betrayed the flood of emotions you were trying to contain.

As Yunho continued to talk about his plans, you listened, offering support and encouragement. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loss, knowing that things were about to change in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

Yunho wandered aimlessly, his gaze fixed on the stars above, each one a silent witness to his regrets. His earlier confrontation with Haewon replayed in his mind—her dismissive words, the hurtful accusations and the way she had turned away with that sharp, unyielding look in her eye.

The more he thought about their argument, the more his frustration bubbled to the surface. He stopped by a bench near the waterfront of the venue, sinking onto it with a heavy sigh. The cool breeze brushed against his face, but it did little to calm the storm swirling within. Yunho stared into the darkness, struggling to make sense of the fractured emotions and the shifting dynamics in his relationship. The night seemed to stretch endlessly, a reflection of the uncertain and painful path he now faced.

He closed his eyes and for a moment wished things could be different.

First, he wished he hadn’t proposed to Haewon out of desperation, trying to salvage their deteriorating relationship. The memory of her storming out of the engagement party with Sungjae right behind her replayed in his mind, a constant reminder of his misguided attempt to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

Yunho stood nervously in the center of the beautifully decorated garden, the soft glow of fairy lights casting a magical ambiance. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint sound of a nearby fountain. Every detail had been meticulously planned—from the arrangement of the candles to the delicate petals scattered along the path. Yunho wanted this moment to be nothing short of perfect.

Is this really the right thing to do? The question echoed in the back of Yunho’s mind, a persistent whisper that refused to be silenced. The small velvet box felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, its weight far heavier than it should be, laden with all his doubts and fears.

As Haewon approached, her eyes widened in surprise, taking in the romantic setting. Her heart raced as she realized what was about to happen. Yunho’s hands trembled slightly as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. With a deep breath, he got down on one knee, holding out the ring that symbolized his commitment to her.

Tears of joy welled up in her eyes as she looked at Yunho, her emotions overwhelming her. Her lips parted, and through her tears, she managed to say, her voice trembling with raw emotion, “Yes! Yes, Yunho,” she finally managed to say, between sobs.

The crowd of friends and family, who had been watching from a distance, erupted in cheers and applause. For Yunho and Haewon, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Please let this be enough, he silently pleaded.

But the months following the proposal were fraught with doubts, especially regarding Sungjae, Haewon’s long-time friend. Yunho couldn’t ignore the ease with which Haewon and Sungjae interacted—their shared jokes, the effortless understanding between them. It made him question if Haewon confided in Sungjae more than she did in him, and whether Sungjae had been filling emotional gaps that he hadn’t been able to for years.

Second, he regretted passing up an opportunity with the KIA Tigers for an investment baking position. The memory of that pivotal moment was etched in his mind—an offer from the Tigers, a chance to work closely with the team he had idolized for as long as he could remember, slipping through his fingers because he had chosen to pursue a more secure, yet uninspiring, career in finance.

He remembered the excitement in his voice as he spoke about the possibility of becoming a scout, the chance to blend his passion for baseball with a professional role. It had felt like the ultimate dream, a convergence of his personal passion and career ambitions. But when the time came to make a choice, he recalled the pressure he felt from his family to choose a path with financial stability, their voices echoing in his mind with phrases like "responsible choice" and "practical future."

Their expectations, though well-intentioned, had overshadowed his own aspirations. The investment banking opportunity, with its promise of stability, was seen as a safer bet, a way to meet his family's expectations and ensure a secure future.

Now, as he sat alone by the waterfront, he could almost hear the cheers from the ballpark, feel the crack of the bat and the thrill of the game that he had sacrificed for the illusion of financial security. It was a safe choice, a pragmatic one, but it lacked the excitement and fulfillment he had once envisioned. Each day at the desk felt like a reminder of a dream deferred, a passion left unpursued.

And lastly, he wished you were still here. Yunho missed your presence more than he could convey. You had a way of making him feel grounded, no matter how chaotic life became. He often thought about the times you spent together, laughing over silly jokes or sharing deep conversations late into the night. You were his best friend, the one person he could always lean on, telling him that everything would be fine.

That night, Yunho didn’t return to his apartment—he couldn't, especially not after his fight with Haewon. Instead, he found himself on the highway, the city lights fading in his rearview mirror as he made the long drive back to his parents' house. The place where he grew up. The place that, no matter how much time had passed, still held a part of him.

The house was quiet when he arrived, his parents long asleep after leaving the party earlier in the evening. It felt strange to be back here, like stepping into a time capsule where everything had remained the same even as he had changed.

He climbed the stairs slowly, each step bringing back memories of late-night chats with you on the phone, trying to keep his voice down so his parents wouldn’t hear. When he reached his old bedroom, he hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. It had been so long since he'd been in this room, yet the moment he opened the door, it was like he had never left.

Everything was still in place—his bed, neatly made with the same comforter he’d had since high school. His desk and walls were cluttered with the remnants of his teenage years: baseball memorabilia, trophies from tournaments, and framed photos of his high school baseball team. He noticed a few with you in them, your smile always bright and full of life.

His gaze landed on a polaroid nestled between a postcard and a team photo. It was of you and him, taken years ago when you were probably 8 or 9. The two of you were sitting on the steps leading up to Mt. Bukhansan, grinning with a mix of pride and exhaustion. You had insisted on taking the picture because it was the first big hike you’d done together.

The polaroid was worn, the edges slightly frayed from years of being handled. Yunho’s thumb brushed over your smiling face, a bittersweet ache settling in his chest. You were so young, so carefree—neither of you had any idea how much your lives would change, how much you would lose.

It was then that he noticed a small, battered box tucked under his desk, nearly hidden by an old baseball bat leaning against the chair. Curiosity piqued, Yunho knelt down to pull the box out into the open. He sifted through years of ticket stubs, notebooks, and magazines–each item bringing back a memory, a fleeting image of the life he once had.

And then he saw it.

At the bottom of the box, beneath the pile of knicknacks, was a leather-bound book. It was worn, the corners frayed and the spine slightly cracked. Yunho’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it immediately. This was your journal—the one you had carried with you everywhere, always scribbling something inside, your thoughts, your dreams, your frustrations.

Yunho’s fingers traced the edges of the pages before he flipped it open, revealing the sketches you had created over the years. Your talent for art was undeniable, yet you had always hesitated to pursue it professionally, fearing that turning your passion into a livelihood might extinguish the joy it brought you.

He stopped to look at one of his portraits. You had captured him perfectly, every line and shadow carefully rendered with an artist’s precision. His eyes, his smile—everything about the sketch was so vivid, so full of life. But it wasn’t just the accuracy of the drawing that struck him; it was the way you had drawn him, the way you had seen him.

In the drawing, Yunho looked confident staring out into the outfield, his expression relaxed and warm. There was a softness in his eyes, a quiet strength that you had always admired but that he had never really seen in himself.

Your sudden disappearance at 22 had been both bewildering and devastating.

It was your father who first noticed the gaps in your routine. You regularly checked in with your parents, recounting your day, the kind of photos you’d taken in your photography course, to the kind of food that was being served in the cafeteria. When a day passed without your usual call, he brushed it off as a busy day. But when two days went by, his concern grew.

“Have you heard from Y/N?” your father had asked Yunho, his voice laced with worry when he couldn’t get a hold of you. Yunho, who had been preoccupied with his own life, felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t heard from you either, not since your last argument.

When Yunho confessed he hadn’t, his worry deepened. He tried calling you multiple times, but each call went straight to voicemail. Panic started to set in. He stopped by your apartment and checked your social media, but there were no new posts, no updates. It was as if you had vanished.

Your family coordinated with the police, attending briefings and following up on every lead. Their days were filled with frustration as false tips and unconfirmed sightings piled up, each one a fleeting hope that crumbled into disappointment. The news of your disappearance even made local headlines, capturing the concern and sympathy of the public.

“Tonight at 6:00, we bring you a developing story that has left authorities baffled. The sudden disappearance of 22-year-old Lee Y/N has sparked a widespread search effort. Y/N was last seen on the evening of November 11th, following a night with friends. Concerned family and friends reported her missing after she failed to return home and did not respond to calls or messages. Law enforcement officials are actively investigating and following up on all leads as the search continues. Stay tuned for more updates on this unfolding situation.”

As the months turned into years, the intensity of the search began to wane. The once-hopeful posters and media coverage faded into the background of daily life, leaving your parents in a painful limbo of uncertainty. Each passing day without news felt like an eternity, their hearts heavy with the ache of your absence.

He carefully placed the journal back into the box, closing the lid before crawling into bed.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up. The stillness of the room felt suffocating, the darkness pressing in on him from all sides. He needed air, needed to move, to do something—anything—to quiet the storm inside him.

The night was calm, the streets empty, and for a moment, Yunho felt a strange sense of peace. The world was asleep, and in the stillness, he could almost pretend that everything was okay.

He started walking, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet. The familiar sights of the neighborhood, usually bustling with activity during the day, now seemed serene, bathed in the gentle glow of the streetlights. As he wandered through the quiet streets, lost in thought, he found himself pausing at a familiar corner. His footsteps slowed as he glanced across the street, where your childhood home stood.

Yunho's heart ached as he looked at the house. He remembered how close you had been, how your home had been a second haven for him growing up. It was where you had shared countless memories, where you had talked for hours about everything and nothing. The house seemed like a monument to the past, a place frozen in time while he struggled to move forward without you.

The night breeze carried the scent of jasmine and incense, luring him toward a small park—the one he had often visited with you and his brother Gunho during happier days. He inhaled deeply, letting the soothing aroma momentarily distract him from his worries. His eyes shot open, snapping out of his dreamlike haze as he looked around, feeling an inexplicable pull drawing him toward something unseen.

As he turned, a storefront appeared—as if by magic. The building was unlike any he had seen before, its traditional façade glowing softly in the dim light, surrounded by an overhang of flowers forming a vibrant canopy.

He took a hesitant step forward, then another, drawn by an inexplicable force that seemed to tug at his very soul. Each step felt both heavy and light, as if he were walking through a dream. The soft glow from the storefront bathed him in a warm, inviting light, contrasting sharply with the cool night air.

Cautious and intrigued, Yunho’s heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the gentle hum of energy emanating from the shop, a subtle vibration that resonated deep within him. The same scent of jasmine and incense, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, urging him to continue.

As he approached the door, he paused, his hand hovering just inches from the brass knocker. The wood felt warm, almost alive. Taking a deep breath, he touched the door, feeling a slight tingle run up his arm.

Yunho pushed the door open, revealing shelves filled with an array of curious objects—ancient books with gilded covers and delicate glass bottles filled with clouds of stardust. Above, the ceiling was a marvel: an expansive skylight with intricately patterned glass panels allowed a cascade of soft, dappled light to filter through an enchanting tapestry of hanging plants and flowers.

He quickly realized he had crossed a threshold into a realm where the ordinary rules of reality no longer applied.

“Welcome to the Astral Emporium.”

He whipped around, trying to locate the source of the voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“Down here!”

His gaze landed on a black cat with an elegant red ribbon fastened around its neck. The ribbon’s vibrant hue contrasted sharply with the cat’s inky fur, and his onyx eyes glowed with an otherworldly intelligence. The cat cleared its throat, a sound that was oddly formal and out of place coming from such a small creature.

Yunho blinked in surprise, his confusion evident. “You can talk!?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening as he crouched down to get a closer look at the feline. The cat regarded him with an air of casual indifference, its tail flicking lightly.

“Didn’t you hear me when you walked in?” the cat replied, its tone almost bored, as if it were used to the astonished reactions of newcomers.

“You’re talking. A cat... is talking. How is that even possible?”

The cat stretched languidly, its body arching gracefully.“This is a realm of possibilities,” he yawned, revealing sharp, white teeth and a pink tongue. His voice was a deep, resonant purr that seemed to vibrate through the air. “The rules of reality are… somewhat relaxed. So, are you here to have a wish granted or what?”

“Wooyoung, stop giving the traveler a hard time,” came a soft, melodic voice from behind.

Yunho’s breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice, a voice he thought he’d never hear again. His eyes widened as emotions coursed through him—hope, disbelief, and a deep longing.

“Y/N?” he whispered, the name trembling on his lips, as if saying it aloud would shatter the fragile moment.

The moment you stepped into the light, your elaborate dress captivated his attention. The silk skirt flowed gracefully to the floor, adorned with intricate patterns of iridescent clouds that shimmered softly in the ambient glow. The vibrant hues of the jacket draped over your shoulders contrasted beautifully with the delicate floral embroidery that wound its way across the fabric.

You chuckled softly, the sound as gentle as a breeze through the leaves. “I’m sorry, traveler, my familiar is quite the cheeky one.”

As you moved, the tassels of your ornate hairpin clinked softly in your side-swept chignon, creating a gentle, melodic chime with each step. You circled Yunho with a curious gaze, your eyes sparkling with intrigue.

He blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. His gaze flickered from the elongated smoking pipe in your hand to the enigmatic expression on your face, trying to determine if it was all an illusion. His mind raced, grappling with the impossible reality before him.

“Y/N,” Yunho began, reaching out slightly “is it really you?”

You were the same, yet different—there was a newfound confidence in your posture and a whimsical glint in your eyes that he hadn’t seen before. His heart pounded in his chest, torn between relief and confusion.

“I have many names, unfortunately Y/N is not one of them.” You watched him with sympathy, recognizing the skepticism in his eyes. “It seems you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“No, you have to be Y/N.” Yunho’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, the question hanging heavily in the air. His breath hitched as he watched you, his mind struggling to reconcile the familiarity of your face with the strangeness of your words. “Wait! What’s your favorite baseball team?”

You tilted your head, a puzzled expression crossing your face. “Baseball?”

Yunho’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He felt a crushing sense of defeat, his hope slipping away like sand through his fingers. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You took a deep breath, your expression softening with an empathy that was both comforting and sorrowful. “I’m simply a keeper of this place, bound to fulfill the wishes of travelers like yourself. This place, and my role within it, has existed for far longer than either of us can imagine.”

The thought that this could be another version of you—someone who looked and spoke like you, but wasn’t the same person he once knew—was unbearable. How could he accept that the best friend he believed he lost forever could exist in a form that wasn’t entirely the same?

“So why am I here?” he asked, his voice tinged with defeat.

“The shop responded to your call,” you sighed softly, as an intricate counter materialized before you, its surface adorned with dragons soaring through the clouds. Leaning against it, you rested your chin in one hand, while the other held the pipe, from which a wisp of smoke curled lazily into the air.

Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean it responded to my call?”

“The shop exists in a realm between the supernatural and the living, responding to the energy of your desires. It sensed that you possessed a strong desire for something and made its presence known.”

“A desire?” Yunho’s gaze drifted to the counter, the dragons seeming to move and shift as if alive.

You smiled gently, the smoke from your pipe forming delicate patterns in the air. “A wish. Not quite like the fairy tales, but wishes are the desires that reside deep within your heart. They can be as simple as wanting a moment of peace or as complex as seeking a purpose in life.”

“And as for who grants the wishes,” you continued, leaning in slightly, “that would be me. Travelers usually refer to me as a witch.”

Yunho swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “How do you grant wishes?”

“The process is simple,” you explained, your tone both gentle and firm. “For a wish to be granted, you must exchange something of equal value in return.”

“What kind of exchange?” Yunho asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a slow, deliberate puff from your pipe, the smoke curling around you like a protective veil. “It depends,” you replied, twirling your pipe between your bejeweled fingers. “Sometimes it’s a memento, a cherished item that holds personal significance. In ancient times, travelers might have offered a blood sacrifice, though we’ve moved beyond such extremes. The more powerful the wish, the more it exacts in return. The magic here is potent and unpredictable, and it demands balance.”

His eyes widened, the weight of your words sinking in. “So, I have to give up something important to me?”

“Not necessarily,” you confirmed, your gaze steady. “The shop only takes what you are willing to offer. The choice is always yours, though I caution that you cannot take back a wish once it’s been granted.”

Yunho didn’t know why his thoughts drift back to that fateful night. Maybe it was because it was the last memory he had of you before everything changed. The words you exchanged, the hurt in your eyes, replayed in his mind like a haunting echo. He wondered if things could have been different, if he had just made a different choice, said something else.

You were at Yunho’s apartment, enjoying a rare evening of relaxation. The soft hum of conversation and laughter filled the room as Yunho's friends mingled. You were perched on the couch, absorbed in your sketchbook, the quiet joy of drawing grounding you amidst the cheerful chaos.

The tranquility was shattered when Sungjae, ever a thorn in Yunho’s side, staggered over. His inebriated state was evident; he moved with a lack of coordination that drew your attention only when he was almost upon you. Without warning, Sungjae lurched forward, his hand grabbing the edge of your journal with a clumsy urgency.

“What’s this?” he slurred, his voice a mix of drunken curiosity and derision. He dangled the open pages in front of you, the sketch of Yunho exposed and vulnerable.

“What the fuck are you doing? Give it back!” you demanded, trying to reach for the journal, but Sungjae was too quick, his movements fueled by liquid courage.

“You’re always scribbling in this book,” Sungjae sneered, flipping through the pages with exaggerated, careless motions. “What’s the big deal?”

Your frustration surged. “Seriously, Sungjae, just give it back!” you urged, your voice rising. The journal was more than just sketches to you; it was a reflection of your thoughts, your feelings—an intimate part of yourself you’d chosen to share with no one but yourself.

He brought the journal closer to his face, a cruel smirk spreading across his lips as he turned the pages. “Yunho! Hey Yunho! Check this out!” Sungjae’s voice cut through the room, mocking and loud.

Yunho looked up from his conversation with Mingi, confusion and concern crossing his face as he saw Sungjae holding your journal. He began to walk over, but the unease in his eyes was clear as he approached.

Sungjae flipped through the pages with exaggerated movements, revealing sketch after sketch of Yunho. “Look at this!” he laughed, his voice dripping with mockery as he showed Yunho your illustrations. “You’ve got a whole gallery dedicated to him!” He turned to face you, your cheeks burning with fury. “What are you, obsessed with him or something?”

“It’s not like that,” you protested, reaching for the journal again. Your fingers brushed the edge of the book, but Sungjae yanked it out of your grasp, his laughter growing louder.

“Oh, come on. You’re totally in love with him, aren’t you? That’s why you’re always drawing like some kind of freak!” His voice dripped with contempt, and his words felt like a dagger to your heart. He tossed your journal aside carelessly, the soft thud echoing in the now silent room.

You immediately snatched the journal and held it securely against your chest before storming towards the door. The once warm and inviting apartment now felt like a stark reminder of the awkwardness and discomfort that had unfolded. The laughter and easy conversations from earlier seemed like a distant memory, eclipsed by the confrontation with Sungjae.

As you moved toward the door, Yunho approached you, his expression a mix of concern and hesitance. “Hey, let me walk you out,” he said, his voice softer than before.

You nodded, appreciating the gesture despite the uneasy atmosphere. The two of you left in silence out into the night, the noise of the party grew fainter, replaced by the subtle thrum of the city.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Yunho said quietly, his eyes locked on the ground as he stuck his hands into his pockets. He kicked a stray pebble, watching it roll away.

“You’re sorry?” you snapped, your voice shaking with hurt as you spun around to face him. “If you were really sorry, you’d have done something about that asshole.”

The tension in his shoulders was palpable as he shot back, “What do you expect me to do, Y/N? I can’t come to your rescue every single time!” Yunho’s tone was edged with frustration, and the defensiveness in his voice was unmistakable.

“I’m not asking you to rescue me!” you shouted. The anger in your voice grew sharper, your hands clenched into fists. “I’m asking you to stand up for me, to not let some asshole humiliate me in front of everyone in your own apartment!”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault because I didn’t want to start a scene? I’m trying to keep the peace here!”

“Keep the peace?” you shouted, your voice breaking as your tears spilled over. “Is that what you call it? Keeping the peace by standing there like a coward and letting someone walk all over me?”

“He’s Haewon’s friend. What was I supposed to do?” Yunho’s tone was clipped, each word laced with his own frustration.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him, feeling the weight of his indifference. “Are you seriously telling me that your girlfriend’s shitty friend matters more than me? You don’t even like him, Yunho!”

Yunho looked away, his jaw set in a hard line. “Haewon’s friends are important to her, and I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

A bitter laugh escaped you, but it quickly turned into a choked sob. “So fuck my feelings, right?” you said, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your face. “You’d rather protect that asshole than stand up for me?”

Yunho’s eyes finally met yours, but they were empty, cold, devoid of the warmth you once knew. “She’s my girlfriend, Y/N. I have to prioritize her!” He spat, his voice growing harsher. “And maybe if you weren’t such a loser, always clinging to that stupid journal, you wouldn’t be in this mess! You’re so embarrassing, it’s pathetic.”

You felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under you. The words cut deep, each one a dagger to your heart. You took a shaky breath, the pain piercing through you.

“The truth finally comes out,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the agony gripping your heart.

For a fleeting moment, Yunho’s expression softened, as if he realized just how cruel his words had been. But the apology you desperately needed never came. He just stood there, silent and distant, his eyes refusing to meet yours, the coldness in his gaze now replaced by a hollow emptiness that only deepened your pain.

Feeling utterly betrayed, you turned away, your vision blurred by tears. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical burden. The person you thought would always have your back had just torn you apart.

In a moment of despair, you tossed your journal into the nearest trash bin. The hollow thud it made echoed in your ears, a haunting reminder of how irrevocably your trust had been shattered. It didn’t matter if the world saw your deepest thoughts; the one you trusted the most had already broken your heart.

Yunho watched in stunned silence as you turned away, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your emotions. He had never seen you like this—so broken, so hurt. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless, but still, he remained frozen, helpless to do anything as you retreated further into the night.

Then he heard it. The hollow thud of the journal hitting the bottom of the bin echoed in the night air. It was a sound that would haunt him for years to come—a sound that marked the moment everything between you changed. Yunho stood there, staring at the trash bin long after you had disappeared from his view.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he forced himself to take a step forward. His hands shook as he approached the bin, and he felt a lump form in his throat as he looked down at your journal, lying there among the discarded remnants of the day. Without thinking, he reached in and retrieved it, tucking it protectively into his side.

He sank onto a nearby bench, the cold metal seeping through his clothes, but he barely noticed. The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city, and the stars above seemed indifferent to his suffering.

Yunho cradled the journal to his chest, feeling the weight of its significance. This wasn’t just a collection of pages; it was a piece of your heart that he had let Sungjae, with his sharp words and cruelty, tear it apart.

Now, all that was left were the remnants of what once was, and the haunting realization that he had played a part in its destruction.

ii >>

taglist: @babymbbatinygirl

#ateez #ateez fanfic #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez fic #modern au #ateez au #magic au #yunho #ateez imagines #yunho angst #forget me not #supernatural au

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months ago

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GOOD THINGS TAKE TIME

A/N: can't believe i actually wrote this, but yaay!! i did it!!

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

SUMMARY: Harry has been in love with Y/N since forever. Unfortunately the plan he comes up with to win her over leads her to meet the man she eventually would get engaged to...

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“This is literally the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

“No, it is brilliant!”

“Brilliantly stupid,” Niall retorts, staring at his best friend who is standing in front of the tiny mirror they managed to squeeze into their dorm room. Harry runs his fingers through his unruly curls, settling them in a messy, but organized way before grabbing his jacket and phone.

“Why would it be stupid? It will work out perfectly. These speed dating things never work, we will have a round with each other and I will prove that I’m the perfect guy for her! Easy!”

Niall can’t help but bark out a laugh from his bed.

“Yeah, that’s a cool fairytale, but have you thought of everything that could go wrong?”

“Nope, because nothing will go wrong. Don’t piss me off, I’m about to win over the girl I’ve been in love with my whole life. Why are you being so bitter?”

“I’m just… not sure this is the best way to do it,” Niall sighs.

“It’ll be fine. I have to go now. Wish me luck!”

And with that he is out of the small, cramped room.

Harry is quick to forget about Niall’s warning, in his mind, it’s the perfect plan. He begged Y/N to come to this speed dating event held on campus for a week before she finally agreed. He’s convinced there’ll be no one he should be worried about and he has thought about what it will be like when he will be sitting in front of her, how he will charm her and finally step over the lines of friendship and head towards something more.

It all played out well in his head.

He meets her by the café that’s the location of the event. She is already there, wearing a flowy dress with a denim jacket over, she is not too dolled up, but he can tell she spent quite some time in the bathroom probably before leaving.

She looks breathtaking.

“Hey there,” he smiles widely as he walks up to her. “Ready?”

“Not really,” she huffs out a short, nervous laugh.

“Come on, it will be fun!” he smirks, opening the door for her, catching the scent of her sweet perfume as she walks past him.

They come here often between lectures, now the tables are lined up straight, two chairs by each of them with notebooks and pens waiting to be used during the speedy rounds. There are a handful of people lingering around already and soon enough the place fills up and the event starts. Harry and Y/N end up sitting a couple of tables away from each other, so it will take about five rounds for them to meet. The host of the event explains how it works: every round is ten minutes long, either people get five minutes to tell the person across from them about themselves. At the end of a round they can exchange numbers and carry on with the event or they can decide to step out of the line and carry their conversation on.

Harry is confident as he waits for it to start, while Y/N seems nervous as she examines the men sitting in front of the line of women. The bell that signals the start and end of the rounds rings and everyone focuses on the person sitting across the table.

One round, two rounds, three rounds go by, Harry tries his best to focus on the girls he talks to, but he is just too excited to finally get to Y/N. She is now just one table away from him, only one more girl before he finally gets to take the chair in front of her.

The round ends and it’s time to move to the next table. Harry is collecting his notebook and pen when he sees two figures stand up from the corner of his eyes. He turns to his right and sees Y/N standing up from her table along with the guy she just talked to in the last round.

Harry’s stomach drops and his jaw hangs open for a moment as he watches the two of them move to a table on the side, she is laughing and the guy touches her arm as they exclude themselves from the rest of the daters.

Harry is frozen, panic settles in the pit of his stomach, then someone nudges him to move and he is forced to carry on while the table she was sitting at before is now awfully empty.

He was not expecting this. This was not part of his plan, he was supposed to be the one to sweep her off her feet, not some random guy. He forces himself to carry on with the rounds, but he can barely focus, he keeps looking back at Y/N, but she seems quite happy to be talking to the guy.

It feels like forever until there are no more rounds and everyone is free to chat with whoever caught their eyes. Harry is tempted to go over to Y/N, make the guy leave and claim her to be his. But all he can do is just watch as the girl he’s been in love with forever falls for someone else.

It’s his personal hell.

Hours go by and they are still talking, but Harry can’t watch it any longer. He sends her a text saying he’s gone back to the dorm and to text him when she is home as well. When he walks into his room Niall is about to ask how it went, but just one look on his face is enough to figure out the plan did not work.

He lies in bed wide awake for hours and then her text finally arrives.

Y/N: Back in the dorm :) thanks for asking me to come, it was awesome! I’ll tell you about Oscar tomorrow Xx

Oscar. Harry didn’t want to know who she chose over him, but now he had a name and even though he knew nothing about him, he hated the guy.

With a heavy heart he drops the phone to his night stand and stares at the wall until the Sun rises.

Harry has read over the menu at least five times by the time Y/N walks into the restaurant finally. It hasn’t been that long since the last time he saw her, he can still feel that stinging feeling in his chest every time he sees her he’s felt in the past years.

“Sorry, finding a parking spot was impossible,” she huffs as she reaches the table, he stands and they share a short, but tight hug.

“It’s fine,” he smiles.

“Have you ordered?” she asks, grabbing the menu Harry’s been staring at the last ten minutes.

“No, not yet.”

He watches her read through the menu, though they both know she will order the same thing she always gets, no matter where they eat. The waitress comes and takes their order and when she’s gone they are finally focusing on each other.

Meeting up has been harder since they finished college two years ago, even though they live in the same city. Harry has been working at a label the past year and Y/N secured a great position at a firm after graduation, so they both have been quite busy.

Especially Y/N, because her and Oscar moved in together after school was over. They’ve been dating for almost two years then, so it was a logical move, but it didn’t make it easier on Harry, who’s been silently suffering since that stupid speed dating event he will forever regret asking Y/N to go to, because her and Oscar have been together for almost four years now, happier than ever, twisting the knife in his chest every time he has to see her being happy with someone else.

“Ah, it’s been such a crazy week,” she sighs, leaning back in her seat.

“Want to rant about it?” Harry smiles at her softly.

“Well…” Her lips curl upwards as she takes a deep breath before peeking up at him. “It’s not really something I want to rant about, because… It’s quite good news.”

Harry is just about to ask her to elaborate when she holds up her hand in front of him and it takes him a couple of seconds to put the picture together. But when it finally sinks in, he almost throws up.

There’s a shiny diamond ring sitting on her ring finger and the cheesiest smile is stretched across her face behind it. She wiggles her fingers as Harry’s lips part while he silently fights for his life to hold his not too uplifting feelings and thoughts bottled up. He succeeds, because she doesn’t realize just how much he is struggling.

“It happened last weekend, I wanted to tell you right away, but I also wanted to tell you in person,” she enthuses, turning her hand so the ring is now facing her, the beaming smile should make Harry happy, but he can taste the awful bitterness again he’s been swallowing back for so long.

She goes on to tell him every detail about the proposal, how romantic it was, from what Harry hears it was just how she imagined, but he is still frozen in shock, his eyes glued to the diamond on her finger.

“So, now I’m a bride!” She finishes her speech, but as she looks at Harry her face falls. “Oh my God, I’m such an asshole!” She covers mouth and Harry’s stomach drops, thinking that his expression gave him away. “I’m telling you about my engagement when you are probably still not over the whole Wren thing.”

Wren? He almost asks her who Wren is, but he realizes that she is talking about the last girl he dated. Things ended a few weeks ago, but he already forgot about it, because it was the same as before. He couldn’t bear being with someone who wasn’t Y/N.

“Ah, no, no…” he manages to speak up finally, gulping harshly. “It’s fine. And… congrats!” The smile on his face would probably not fool her, but she is too lost in her pink clouds.

“Thank you! And there is one more thing. It will sound stupid,” she giggles, before continuing, “I don’t really have any girl best friends, I’ll have just a few bridesmaids, but… I want you to be my maid of honor?”

Harry is staring back at her with parted lips, her words playing in his mind on repeat.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but Harry, you are my best friend and I want you there, by my side. So, what do you say?”

Blinking, he fights the part of him that wants to stand up and walk away. Because she is asking him to watch her marry someone from the front line, to assist her on her big day when he has imagined himself being the man she would one day walk down the aisle to. But now this image will be different and ruined forever, because she is marrying someone else.

For a moment he is back at the speed dating event. He thinks about how he should have just told her how he felt instead of that ridiculous plan that brought her together with Oscar. Maybe she would have rejected him, but at least he could say that he tried. Now he has to put up with the pain of his heart breaking over and over again, all because he couldn’t man up and tell her he’d been in love with her.

Exhaling slowly he licks his lips before nodding his head.

“Yeah. Sure. I’m happy to… I’m happy for you. I’ll be there for you.”

Harry had nothing against weddings. Up until it was the wedding of the woman he loved and he wasn’t the groom.

As Y/N’s man of honor he couldn’t exclude himself from the planning process. Choosing decoration, cake tasting…. dress shopping… he suffered through it all while he had to come to terms with his unpleasant fate.

Now it’s the night before the big day. The wedding is held in a botanical garden, there’s a small hotel connected to it, that’s where the guests are staying. It’s the perfect venue for the perfect wedding.

Y/N is in her suit with her bridesmaids while Harry is in his own room. His suit is hanging on the door of the closet next to his bed, haunting him about what he will have to witness tomorrow with a smile on his face. He already thought of ways to get himself out of it, but he knows there’s no excuse good enough to miss Y/N’s wedding.

His phone chimes on the nightstand with a text and when he looks at the screen Y/N’s name appears in the notification bar.

Y/N: come overrrr maid of honor!!

Then another text follows.

Y/N: we have champagne and I need my best friend here!!!

His thumbs linger over the keyboard, trying to come up with a reply, but then she keeps texting him, begging him to go over and he breaks. With a groan he puts on a hoodie and grabbing his keycard he heads down the hall to her suit.

What welcomes him there is exactly what he was expecting. It’s like a sleepover, the bridesmaids are drinking and dancing around, Y/N is wearing a cheap veil on her head that’s attached to a tiara, wearing matching PJ’s with the rest of the girls.

“Harry!” she beams when he is pulled into the suit by two girls, right into the middle of their little party.

Y/N runs across the room and hugs him, she almost loses her balance, but he catches and steadies her with an arm around her waist.

“How much champagne have you had?” he breathes out a short chuckle.

“Just a little,” she giggles. “Hey, I want to talk to you about something, come on.”

She takes his hand and pulls her into the bedroom, closing the door to have some privacy from the laughter and music outside. Her wedding dress is laid out on an armchair in the corner of the room, an open, pink suitcase by the bed, clothes flowing out of it. Her presence is all over the room and he wishes he could see these traces in his own home too.

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches her grab a lip balm from her bag. She applies it and then keeps it in her hands, playing, fidgeting with it.

“You seem worried,” he voices his thoughts.

“No, I’m…” She sighs, looking up at him. “It’s natural, right?”

“What is?”

“That… I’m scared.”

“Of marrying him?”

“No, just generally. It’s a big step,” she shrugs. “I always dreamed of my wedding and now it’s all happening, I’m just… I don’t know, I’ve been thinking a lot, but it’s all part of the ride, right?”

She is trying her best to sound calm and collected, but Harry knows her better than anyone and can see through the mask. He knows she is having doubts and though these thoughts could be normal, Y/N is never one to doubt her decisions, so her current fears are definitely raising his concerns.

And his hopes as well.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” Y/N just shrugs. “Did Oscar do something to make you question it all?”

“No,” she chuckles, but it’s more bitter than genuine. “He is amazing, really.”

The stinging feeling returns in Harry’s chest, but he just keeps listening to her.

“I just… I don’t know, sometimes I question if we were meant to be. It’s all been so easy and convenient and maybe it’s just all the books and movies, but I imagined… more.”

It’s like the tiniest light is now forcing its way through the dark, thick walls Harry has built up around him, a glimmer of hope that maybe he still has a chance to make it right, that he hasn’t missed his chance.

“Don’t marry him then,” he says, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What?” she chuckles.

“If you’re not sure, then don’t marry him.”

“Harry, I won’t call the wedding off. I love him.”

She turns away, but not before he could catch the look of doubt in her eyes, crystal clear, telling him this is the moment he missed all those years ago.

He stands up from the bed and there’s a second when he almost changes his mind, but he has to do it or he might lose his mind forever.

“I love you, Y/N.”

She stills, her back facing him.

“I love you too Harry,” she says. “You’re my best friend.”

“But I’m in love with you.”

She doesn’t answer for so long he starts to think she didn’t even hear him, but then she slowly turns around with an unreadable look on her face and he decides to continue.

“I’ve… been in love with you for so long, I don’t even remember what it’s like not to love you. I know it’s not ideal to tell you this right now, but I feel like if you’re questioning whether you should marry Oscar or not, it might… that maybe you’re…”

She’s still silent, just staring back at him, not giving away any emotion or thought.

“Y/N, you can still call it off. I-I will be by your side and if you want to try and—”

“Stop.”

“I know it’s scary, but I love you and I would do anything–”

“Harry, stop!” she raises her voice and it finally gets him to stop talking. Clenching his jaw he takes a step backwards.

Y/N exhales shakily, Harry is still unsure what she is thinking and the words are begging to keep bubbling from his mouth now that he started talking, but he swallows them down. Shaking her head she takes a step closer to him.

“You… Harry, I…” She is trying to find the words and Harry starts talking again, but he is cut off rather fast.

“I swear we–”

“You have the nerve to pour all of this onto me on the night before my wedding? Right after I tell you about my deepest fear?”

Now it’s clear to him. She is mad, her eyes are throwing flames, but he’s confused, this is not what he was expecting.

“Y/N, I just–”

“You just thought that choosing this vulnerable moment was the perfect timing to tell me you’ve been in love with me all this time?! What were you expecting, huh? That I would throw myself into your arms giggling and confess my love? Call my wedding off?”

“I-I’m… I don’t…”

“I can’t believe you! Get the hell out of here!” Turning around she wraps her arms around herself, breathing heavily. Harry reaches out and touches her shoulder, but she jerks away instantly. “Get out!” she screams. “And don’t even think about showing up tomorrow!”

Harry is in shock, denial, completely destroyed as he stares at the back of her head. He wants to beg for her to forgive him, to forget everything he said. He would rather suffer by her side than lose her, but he knows he has no choice now.

He walks over to the door, looks back one more time, but she is still turned away, her body shaking. He opens the door, the music floods into the room from outside and he walks out without a word.

He returns to his room, packs all of his stuff and under the shining stars, he drives away, barely seeing the road through his tears.

Anne’s backyard looks magical this time of the year. The blooming flowers, the bright green grass, it’s a beautiful scenery and Harry would love to bask in it normally, but now he is just blankly staring ahead of him.

It’s been a week since he confessed his love for Y/N at the worst possible moment and lost her forever. He has no idea who ended up being her maid of honor after his departure, he turned his phone off and hasn’t turned it on since. He would rather claw his eyes out than see all the wedding content from their mutual friends. He’s been hiding at his mum’s since then.

“Tea?” Anne’s chirpy voice asks from the sliding doors.

“No thank you,” he answers. Anne sighs and he hears her footsteps, but he doesn’t look her way.

“You know you can’t hide here forever, right?”

“If you want me out of here just tell me that.”

“You know I love having you here as long as you want, but you’ll have to face reality at one point.”

“I’m hiding for a bit more, thanks.”

Anne sighs again and Harry hopes she would just let him be, but also knows she likes to say what’s on her mind.

“You know she was mad at the timing and not your feelings, right?”

“Mum…”

“Y/N loves you, romantically or not, she loves you. She might have to get over how you chose the worst possible moment to tell her you love her, but she will come around. And when it happens, you better not still be a mess.”

The sliding doors close behind her and he is left alone with his thoughts again. He hates how right she is, but it still hurts.

Groaning he marches up to his room and digs his phone out from the depth of his suitcase. Turning it on the notifications start flooding in, texts, emails, voicemails, he is skipping most of them until his eyes catch one particular thing. Then another and he slowly starts to put the picture together and he fears he is about to have a heart attack.

The wedding never happened. Y/N didn’t marry Oscar.

He drops his phone as if it was on fire and starts packing right away. He needs to get to the bottom of this, he needs to know if it was because of his confession. Even if she screams and cusses him out, he needs to find answers. What’s the worst that could happen? He is already on the floor, there’s only up from here.

How is it that no one knows where she is?

Harry has been trying to track her down since he arrived back from the UK, going from one friend to the other, but no one knows where she’s been hiding since the catastrophic almost-wedding. Everyone is saying the same thing? she packed her stuff from the place she’d been sharing with Oscar, left and no one has seen her since. She just sent a few texts to her parents to let them know she’s alright, but that’s all.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath as he heads back to his home, completely lost about where she could be.

He is trying to come up with other ideas as he is climbing the stairs up to his apartment. He slides the key into the lock, too deep in his thoughts to realize that it’s unlocked at first, but when he does, he freezes, then practically runs inside.

He spots the familiar pink suitcase first, then hears the footsteps and a few moments later Y/N appears down the hallway.

He is trying to find the right words, but nothing comes out his mouth as he is slowly walking closer to her.

“I still had your spare keys,” she says quietly. The anger he last saw from her is now gone, she looks so small and broken and all he wants to do is wrap her in his arms and never let her go. But he knows they need to talk first.

“Have you been here all along?”

“Yeah. I promise I didn’t read your diary.” She cracked a joke, but her weak laugh doesn’t fool him.

“It’s fine. How… How are you? I know you didn’t…”

“I didn’t marry Oscar? Yeah. And I feel like shit.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have told you then, I was an idiot, you were right. I chose the worst moment, used your vulnerability and tried to use it to my advantage. I am so sorry.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Of course I regret. My timing was incredibly awful and disrespectfu–”

“No, not the timing. That you… That you told me.”

He clenches his jaw, thinking of what to say, but he decides he needs to be honest with her and with himself as well.

“I don’t regret telling you. I’ve been keeping it a secret for a very long time and it needed to be said. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, let alone… consider giving me a chance, but I just want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Was there any other moment when you wanted to tell me before?”

“The speed dating event,” he answers right away. “I had this ridiculous plan that you would find me the best match and I would… finally tell you how I’d been feeling. But then…”

“Oscar,” she breathes out.

“Yeah, Oscar happened,” he smiles bitterly.

She closes her eyes and he wishes he could read her mind, but he is just waiting patiently for her to process everything. Then she looks at him and finally starts talking.

“I thought you wanted to go there to pick up someone. I didn’t want to go, because I didn’t want to see you flirt with other girls.”

“What?” he whispers.

“I told myself I needed to get myself over you, because you’d never want me. Oscar was nice and funny, but… deep down I always kept comparing him to you. I hated myself for that, because he was so amazing, so caring and loving, but… not you.”

Tears start rolling down her cheeks and he can feel his throat closing up as well.

“I was so mad at you that night. You let me… go through with all that just to tell me you’ve always loved me the night before my wedding. I was angry and I felt like I was played with.”

“That was never my intention.”

“I know,” she nods. “When I calmed down I knew I couldn’t get married to Oscar. I went over to your room in the morning, but it was empty. I wanted to go after you, but I also needed some time to think.”

“And… where are you standing right now?” he asks as he walks over to her, but he’s still not touching her, giving her the chance to move back.

She never does.

“Do you still love me?”

“Y/N, I will never stop loving you.”

“Okay, good,” she breathes out. “Because love you too and if you–”

She doesn’t get to finish, he grabs her and kisses her like he should have all these years ago, like he wants to erase all the bad, the almost-wedding, the suffering, the miscommunication, nothing matters now that they finally met each other at the right time and place.

“Isn’t it funny?” she breathes out against his lips.

“What is?”

“That you wanted to tell me you love me at a speed dating event, but it took you the longest fucking time to actually confess. It was anything, but speedy.”

He can’t help but laugh, because she is right, it’s comical.

“Don’t they say good things take time?”

“Mhm, sure,” she grins, pulling him down for another kiss.

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

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

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archiveikemen · 4 months ago

Text

Ikemen Villains Prologue: Act 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Victor: From this moment on, you are officially a “Fairytale Keeper”, a position exclusive to “Crown”.

Victor: Kate will live in the castle from now onwards and work alongside the members of “Crown”.

Victor: The members of “Crown” will also keep an eye on her, to make sure she doesn't reveal any secrets.

Victor: During this time, Kate will write down your evil deeds. Just like she’s writing a fairytale.

…

Victor: If you want to return to your normal life after a month… don't let any of them steal your heart.

…

A week has passed since I started my life of sin as a Fairytale Keeper.

Following Victor’s advice, I haven’t fallen in love with anyone.

This way, once I prove to them that I’m a trustworthy person able to keep secrets, I’ll be able to return home safely soon.

That was what I thought, then it happened.

A pure white evil descended on England—

Victor: There is only one reason for gathering all of you here today.

Victor: That is to introduce our guests from Germany—

Victor: — to Crown and Kate.

Victor: May I ask you to kindly introduce yourself?

Angelic Man: A pleasure to meet you, dear members of Crown.

Darius: I’m Darius Vogel, the Chief of “Vogel”, an organisation under direct command of the Emperor of Germany.

Victor: Vogel is said to be a research organisation that promotes the contribution to society by Cursed Ones.

Victor: They will be living in the Royal Palace for a few months as goodwill ambassadors.

Darius: “The power of Curses for a better society” is our motto.

Darius: Although Cursed Ones presently live in the darkness, we believe that there are greater ways they can engage with society!

Darius: Just imagine a future where Cursed Ones and normal humans work alongside each other… exciting, isn’t it?

Darius: The moment I heard about this wonderful organisation in England named “Crown”, I couldn’t contain myself!

Harrison: …

Darius: Oh, don’t worry! This goes without saying, but only a few people in Germany know about the existence of “Cursed Ones”.

Darius: We know about “Crown” because all of us in Vogel are cursed too.

Darius: Interacting more with our fellow Cursed Ones helps to deepen our understanding of Curses and their abilities, right?

Darius: We could have a dinner party, or we could accompany you on your missions for field studies. c

Victor: To the outside world, they came to England as diplomats. Their real purpose of researching Curses is kept secret.

Darius: Thank you for your thorough addition, Sir Queen’s Aide. Although our positions require us to keep many secrets from one another…

Darius: I hope to establish a new regularity together with all of you.

Darius: By the way… it appears that Sir William Rex isn’t here. Where is he?

Victor: Ah, William isn’t here with us today. Please excuse him.

Darius: Oh really? That’s a pity. … I thought I’d finally get to meet him in person…

Darius: Well, I suppose it’s understandable because we arrived a few days earlier than expected.

Darius: Well then, allow me to introduce these two. They’re a pair of twins; the older one is Nica, and the younger one is Ring.

Darius: Now, be good and introduce yourselves to everyone.

Ring: Ring Schwartz… we’ll be in your care for the next few months. I’ll show no mercy if you attempt to harm us.

Nica: Goodness, don’t be so intimidating. Sorry for my brother’s rudeness.

Nica: As you can see, even though he’s an adorable and good kid, he’s very wary like a dog. Oh, I should introduce myself too.

Nica: Guten Tag, members of Crown. I’m Nica Schwartz. Nice to meet you all

Darius: Yup, Nica’s a well-behaved one.

Darius: Nica, Ring, and I are like a “family”.

Darius: I hope we can become this close with Crown as well.

Darius: … Oh? I heard that Crown consists of the Queen’s Aide and eight men… who might you be?

Kate: I’m Kate, the “Fairytale Keeper”.

Victor: Kate isn’t a Cursed One, but she’s an important person who records Crown’s activities.

Darius: “Important person”? Hmm…

Darius: If she’s an “important person” to Crown, we should be courteous with her too.

Ring: …

Nica: You’re right, Dari. I’m so glad there’s someone else other than a bunch of guys here.

Nica: Nice to meet you, cute little robin.

Kate: … Nice to meet you too.

…

After parting ways with Vogel who went on to spend time in the room Victor prepared for them in the palace, I returned to the castle with the members of Crown.

(I’ve finally adapted to my life here, but I have a feeling that something’s about to change.)

I thought back to our meeting with Vogel.

(Vogel… a research organisation made up of Cursed Ones. So that means things like curses exist outside of England too.)

(Darius is always smiling, he looks like an angel.)

(Nica seems spirited and easy to talk to, while Ring on the other hand seems cold. They’re twins, but the impressions they give off are polar opposites.)

(Anyway, they seem like friendly people… but why do I have a gut feeling that’s not true…?)

(Did spending time with Crown and being exposed to all sorts of evil make me suspicious…?)

Harrison: … You felt it too?

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: Those guys were lying.

…

Nica: “Fairytale Keeper”, huh. The data we had beforehand didn’t include any information on the existence of that girl and her role.

Nica: I’m guessing that she just happened to discover the existence of Crown and is currently being surveillanced by them. What do you think, Ring?

Ring: …

Nica: … Ring? Are you listening?

Ring: Oh… I don’t understand complicated things, but I think it’s best to refrain from speaking based on mere speculation.

Ring: All I can say is… as long as we’re not clear on her true nature, we should be wary of her.

Darius: I mean, even though she’s a “Fairytale Keeper”, she looks like an ordinary “human”. There’s nothing much she can do.

Darius: Growing our “family” is the most important. Don’t forget our goal.

Nica: Verstanden / Understood.

Ring: … Yeah.

Darius: I can’t wait to chat with everyone more… fufu.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil translations #ikevil prologue #william rex #harrison gray #victor #darius vogel #nica schwartz #ring schwartz #jude jazza #liam evans #alfons sylvatica #ellis twilight #roger barel

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dark-frosted-heart · 4 months ago

Text

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 1

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Destiny, unrealizable dreams, incurable disease, war, poverty…

It just goes on.

This world’s a bargain sale of despair.

And it’s called “despair” because you can’t do anything about it.

However, that’s not something I’ll allow.

If you can’t overcome despair— then what’s the point of me, of us humans, being born?

That’s why these days, I live my life flipping it off.

It’s been a week since I started my “sinful life” as a Fairytale Keeper.

It wouldn’t be long before I could go back to my former life after keeping this secret—at least that’s what I thought.

Darius: While I didn’t expect there to be a get-together soon after our arrival to England, I’m happy.

That night, a dinner party he called a get-together was held…

Between “Crown”, an organization directly under the command of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and “Vogel”, an organization directly under the command of Germany.

All members were together in one place.

Vogel had just arrived from Germany a few hours ago.

~~ Flashback ~~

Victor: Vogel is a research organization that’s dedicated to the societal contribution of the Cursed Ones. They will be staying in the palace for a few months as goodwill ambassadors.

Darius: Our motto is “the betterment of society through the Cursed Ones”

~~ End flashback ~~

(They looked friendly, not people you should be wary of)

However, there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now.

Harrison, whose power allowed him to see through lies, said “they’re lying”—

(So long as we don’t truly know them, we shouldn’t let our guard down yet)

Darius, who I believe is the chief of “Vogel” was sitting next to William and enjoying his conversation with him.

(For now I think it’s better for me to lie low and stay quiet)

On the table was a spread of dishes that Victor had put his all into preparing.

(Even though it all looks so delicious…I’m too nervous to eat)

Nica: What’s this? Robin, you haven’t touched your food. Then I’ll take this cherry.

Ring: Nica, you’ll get a stomach ache if you take a stranger’s food.

Nica: What’s with the serious warning, little brother? It’s just an excuse to make an appeal to be friends. Ring, you’re really out of touch.

Ring: …I’m ignorant.

The twins looked similar, with the same hair and eye color.

Kate: Nica and Ring…right?

Nica: Yep, you remembered our names? We remember yours too, Kate. Even though we just met, I think we’ll get along? Hey, show us around the palace. Let’s get out of here.

He slipped his arm around my waist with a practiced gesture and whispered in my ear.

(Wha…)

The moment I stood my guard, I felt someone tug my arm from the opposite side.

Roger: Sorry to interrupt, but Kate’s got a prior engagement with me.

Kate: Roger!

Roger: The queen’s aide’s great at showing people around the palace. He’ll be delighted. Victor, would you mind showing our guests from Vogel around?

Victor: Yes, of course! I will show you around every nook and cranny.

Nica: (¬_¬)…

Nica narrowed his eyes at Victor and then smiled.

Nica: Vielen Dank (Many thanks)

William: While I’d rather not, it’s time to call it a night.

Darius: You’re right, Lord Rex. We of Vogel would like to get along with Crown like a family. Should you ever be in trouble, we’d be delighted for you to turn to us for help, okay?

—In a room in Crown’s castle.

In a luxurious room prepared for Vogel, Darius sat comfortably in his chair and smiled.

Darius: What did you think of our get-together with Crown?

Nica: Amazing. I tried to lure the lrobin, but the hunter got in the way.

Darius: Hunter? Ah, you mean the “double-crossing hunter” Roger Barel. Hehe, wanting to snatch the robin* from them is quite reckless.

Ring: …About Roger Barel and that girl…are they together?

Nica: They’re not. But there’s no doubt that Crown cares for the robin a lot.

Darius: Gathering information is our main goal. It’ll be valuable material for eventually realizing our ambitions. Ring, Nica. Continue to gather any useful information on Crown and Robin.

Nica and Ring: Verstanden/…Understood

Darius: …Roger Barel. A former doctor with a strange fixation of “Cursed Ones”. Does he have a place in our “family”?

As the get-together came to a close, people started filing out of the room one after the other.

Before I knew it, even Roger disappeared…—

(H-huh?)

I ran out into the hall and saw his solid back.

Kate: Um, what was that prior engagement you mentioned, Roger…?

When I called out to him, he looked back at me in the empty hallway.

Roger: Did I make a mistake thinking you were in trouble?

You did that to help me? +4 +4

I was in a lot of trouble. +4 +4

You weren’t mistaken. +4 +4

Kate: You didn’t. Thank you.

Roger: You looked like a lost dog so I thought I did you an uncharacteristic favor.

(Dog? …No, I didn’t hear that right)

When I thanked him again, I saw a hint of scheming on his face.

Roger: By the way, I didn’t say I did it for free, did I? You’re gonna have to pay me back for saving you.

(Eh?)

Roger: I was thinking about going out drinking with Ellis and Jude. Join us.

Kate: Huh, now? Woah…Wait, Roger!

Roger: Phew~That hit the spot. The first drop of beer’s blood, you know.

Ellis: Heh, that’s what you always say.

Jude: Can’t believe he’s a doctor. Well he’s a quack.

(Before I knew it, I ended up getting dragged to a bar)

(It’s something I’ve noticed, but Roger can be a little…no, very pushy.)

Furthermore, it’s a wonder how Jude, who looked like the type to refuse an invitation, was sitting here with a sour look.

Red-headed waiter: Here you are. Fish and chips, bramboraky(?)**, and…

Jude: Just how much did ya order? Ya ate a lot at the get-together.

Roger: I never have my fill when picking at those small fancy food.

Ellis: Are you full, Jude? I can still eat.

Jude: You’re still a growin’ kid.

The trio act like close friends…

Kate: Heh, hehe…

I couldn’t help but laugh and Roger squinted at me with a beer in hand.

Roger: The heck, so you can laugh like that after all.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You know you haven’t laughed since you became Fairytale Keeper?

(What…what? But he’s right, this whole week, I haven’t…)

Roger: You don’t eat much and when you do, it’s like you’re chewing sand. Maybe you did…Or I should say, maybe you didn’t notice yourself?

(Tasked to keep a secret for a whole month as a Fairytale Keeper, and to record the evils before my eyes)

(Not to mention…Vogel’s sudden visit)

Desperate to just push through it all, I gradually neglected the things needed to live, like eating and laughing.

I was like a plant slowly wilting away.

Roger: I know you got a lot of things on your mind that make you anxious. But it’s times like these where you gotta work on yourself. Eat, sleep, play, laugh, recharge your energy. Otherwise you’ll easily get swallowed up by despair in this darkness, lil’ lady.

Kate: …

Roger’s words pierced my heart.

(He’s right…What was I so weak for?)

I could struggle all I wanted, but the anxiety would never leave until I’m safely out of this darkness.

I know that…but.

(The only one who can truly protect me, is me)

(I absolutely cannot give in)

Kate: …You’re right. There’s no time for weakness or despair. Thank you Roger. Now then, time to dig in!

As if to get over it…I stuck my fork into the steaming meat before me and brought it to my mouth.

Kate: Mm…delicious.

(...Somehow, it felt like I was properly enjoying food for the first time in a while)

(It’s so good to be alive and have delicious food)

Roger: …

Jude: Oi, who do ya think you are takin’ the first bite.

Kate: Ah, sorry! I got ahead of myself.

Ellis: Don’t worry about it Kate. Here, try these chips with rock salt.

Kate: Wow, this is really good! It pairs well with alcohol.

Roger: Oh, you drink pretty well. Barkeep! Two more beers.

Barkeep: Gotcha. Two large beers comin’ right up.

The golden beer and the food were delicious, and laughter reached my ears.

(...Ah, this is fun. I feel like I’m finally able to breathe)

(He pretty much dragged me here, but I’m glad I accepted Roger’s invitation)

I didn’t know how much of Roger’s actions were calculated and how much was in good faith.

But it’s a fact that his pushiness saved me.

(Roger really does have a lot of common sense and is like a mature older brother)

With those simple thoughts in mind, I continued on drinking and drinking…

—I woke up in a soft bed.

(Huh…last night I was drinking at the bar, and)

While in my drowsy and lethargic state, I groped around for a warm cloth when—

Kate: Hm…? …??

(...I’m naked?!)

I quickly wrapped myself up in a blanket with only my face peeking out.

…And noticed something familiar laying by my pillow.

(...Glasses?)

The black-rim and intellectual-looking frame was definitely memorable.

(These glasses…)

The moment I nervously picked them up, the bed squeaked—

Roger: Hey now, those glasses aren’t a toy…Come on, give it here.

When the glasses were snatched out of my hand, I looked up to see a half-dressed Roger hovering over me.

Kate: …W-why are you here…

When I looked at him, he smiled as if to tell me the question was pointless now.

Roger: You passed out drunk so I had to carry you back. And after dropping you off, you wouldn’t let me go.

Whether it was true or not, the way he said it made it sound like I was pleading for him and my cheeks warmed.

(I-I held Roger back?)

(And…moreover)

My eyes took in his muscular chest and abs that were freely on display.

(T-too much stimulation…)

(I don’t know where to look)

Not just his bare chest.

Muscular arms peeking out from his shirt, broad shoulders that connected to a thick neck, and a lean waist.

(But, he was like beautiful sculpture)

My eyes unconsciously traced the supple skin.

His muscular body disguised his intelligent features and that gap alone was enough to make me dizzy.

Roger: …It’s not bad being ogled like this.

Kate: Eh?!

Roger gave me the wickedest of grins.

I’d been unconsciously staring at his body and my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Kate: S-sorry…

Roger: Don’t worry about it. You’re a lot cuter than you were yesterday.

Kate: Did I…end up doing something yesterday?

Roger: “Something”.

Roger lowered himself and whispered to me.

Roger: …Yeah, last night was pretty hot, wasn’t it lil’ lady?

(N-no way…Me and Roger?)

*Darius says red riding hood but the subtitle says robin

**Send help. I have no idea what the heck バンブリーキ is. Perhaps bramboraky according to @/hoerayner

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

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wisteriaovermyhightops · 1 month ago

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You shit talked me under the table. Talking rings (engagement rings) and talking cradles (pregnancy rumors)

Something counterfeit (our relationship, how I let you view me) is dead

You’re the loss of my life cause I’m not your princess (Miss Americana), this ain’t a fairytale (the story is ending)

It’s too late to catch me now (to stop me/to come with me)

#friends of dorothea #lgbetty #gaylor #gaylor swift

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 3 months ago

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F! Yuu’s Dad in Twst Wonderland pt. 5

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6

Please save Yuu’s dad from the boys in this world.

Turns out the boys at RSA are a different type of annoying

Instead of selfish brutish boy, it’s selfless boy polite boy who lives in a fairytale and doesn’t have the self awareness not to be handing out pre-engagement rings to the first person they fall in love with.

Like he has to give Yuu the “Don’t be a Disney Princess talk”

🦀: Yuu, what’s on your fingers?

🦐: My platonic engagement rings.

🦀: You’re what? W-what’s a platonic engagement?

🦐: They said I was really pretty and could tell I had a nice personality and warm spirit in need of help and a permanent place to stay so they slipped a ring on my finger and said that if I still needed help I could stay with them in their manors and castles and all they wanted in return was my love and companionship.

🦀: That last part doesn’t sound pretty platonic.

🍎🐦: Ah, Yuu, here’s the rest of your platonic engagement letters.

Yuu’s dad snatches a letter and opens one.

🦀: My dear Yuu, I crave your presence and companionship wherever I am. Would you please do me the honor of living with me after your graduation?! Oh God, I’ve made a terrible mistake!

Yuu’s dad shakes the rings off her fingers, grabs Grim, and runs out of RSA.

🦐: Dad, where are we going to go?

🦀: Well we haven’t tried NBC?

~~~~~~~~~~

Spoilers: It didn’t last an entire day due to Rollo’s obsession with Yuu not having magic.

Yuu’s dad literally found Rollo on his knees, hands clasped with Yuu’s, begging her to be with him forever so she’ll never have to deal with those “magic freaks” again.

And so, the father, daughter, cat crew is back at Ramshackle.

Which is also where they see a pile of cards on Ramshackle’s doorstep.

🦐: They’re all Valentines Day cards! I completely forgot today was Valentines Day! Malleus’s card is so sweet!

🦀: Lemme see that. “Dearest-“ ugh- “My thanks for such a truly wonderful present. It is only fitting that I should give you something in return. How about the gift of beauty? Perhaps the gift of song? Or…Well, never mind. Just a joke based on the legends, you know. I shall give you something I picked out myself. -Malleus Draconia.” Sweetie, you do realize he indirectly called you ugly, right?

A/N: Real talk, do not accept the feelings of someone who offers you the gift of beauty. Please do not accept the feelings of someone who says they love you but is indirectly calling you ugly at the same time. I am telling you your self-confidence will plummet if you do.

🦐: Well…you know what it does sound like he’s saying I’m ugly. He thinks I’m ugly…HE THINKS I’M UGLY!! *Wails*

🦀: Don’t worry baby, he wouldn’t know what a pretty girl looks like if she hit him. Hell, his father probably abandoned his mother when he found out what her face looked like and realized it passed onto his son.

🦐: Dad…

🦀: No boy is going to insult my baby directly or indirectly and get away with it.

And so your dad storms out of Ramshackle, leaving you alone.

🦀: Malleus, come here!

What ensues is your dad grabbing Malleus by the collar and giving him this interesting sentence.

🦀: Malleus, I swear to God that if you ever make my daughter cry like you did with that stupid fucking letter, I will cut your horns off and have them displayed as a trophy.

⚡️: Let go of Waka-Sama!

Your dad drops him to the ground and gets a phone call from you.

🦐: He’s here and I lost sight of him.

🦀: Who’s at Ramshackle?

🦐: Rook! I saw him in the bushes with a pair of binoculars, and when I looked back he was gone!

🦀: Oh for fucks sake! Honey, don’t worry, I’m coming back as soon as I can.

🦐: *the phone call suddenly ends*

🦀: Shit, this is so not good. Maybe the cat got him and burned him to death. I hope the cat burnt him to death.

When he returns to Ramshackle, he finds you dancing, albeit very uncomfortably, with Rook in the backyard.

🦀: Hey! Hey! HEY! Hands off my daughter, French creep!

🏹: Non, Non, don’t misunderstand my intentions. I was simply inquiring her status about a visitation to Pomefiore. Vil wanted to see if she wanted some of his unused makeup.

🦀: But why are you dancing with her? Why were you in the bushes? Why didn’t you text her? You have her phone number! All of you do actually!

🏹: well quite frankly because you blocked us, and who wouldn’t want to spend time dancing with such a girl under the moonlight while waiting for an answer to a questi-Ah!

Yuu kicks Rook in the crotch and your father couldn’t have been happier

🦀: Good job, sweetie! Though you might want to kick a bit lower next time so instead of hitting the base of his penis, you hit his testes. Lemme show you.

Your dad picks Rook up and stands behind him so Rook’s body isn’t sliding downward.

🦀: Take another chance, honey!

You take another kick hitting Rook in his balls. You squeal in delight that you accomplished your dad’s helpful tip.

🦐: Yay! I did it! Did you see that?!

🦀: Sure did! Let’s bring the cat for a night time treat out in the town.

Your dad goes inside to get the baby carrier and Grim.

Meanwhile your first and second year friends are slowly walking up to you out of fear for what they just saw.

🦐: Oh, hi! What are you guys doing here?

♥️: Umm…💧💧💧….we were going to invite you to a beach party *sees Yuu’s dad walking out with Grim in a baby carrier strapped to his chest* but now I think we should leave and let you get a good nights rest for tomorrow’s academic activities hahaha!

🦐: Oh no, I can totally come to the party! I’m just going with my dad to the town for a snack!

🦀: *mouthing: you better not try anything or let anything happen to my daughter or else everyone will find you like this* *moves his hand to Rook’s body on the ground*

♥️: ….Yessir!

🦀: Come on, Yuu, let’s take you out for a snack and then you can enjoy your party.

You laugh and skip along with the your first and second year friends while your dad squishes Grim’s toe beans.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #f! yuu dad au #yuu dad au #ace trappola #malleus draconia #twst rsa #rook hunt #rollo flamme

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visitart7 · 9 months ago

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judesmoonbeauty · 7 months ago

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Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's Epilogue ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.

CW: Brief mention of castration. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

Kate, your work has reached my ears. Thank you as always.

Therefore, I would like you to evaluate one thing.

I wonder if Jude, who is cursed, is worthy of the Crown.

After reading the letter from Her Majesty several times, I finally understood.

Just the other day, Jude and I were engaged in a battle over the Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement.

(Does that mean I'm going to assess Jude this time?)

(You're giving me the opportunity to make a fair judgment. Her Majesty is indeed very open-minded.)

(If it's an assignment, I have to face Jude properly and submit a report!)

There is no mention in the text that the person should be kept in the dark.

I mean, the quickest way to do that is to ask Jude himself about it, and his intentions to stay at Crown.

Jude: I don't know anything about that. When you ask someone for something, shouldn’t you pay them for the information?

(I can't for the life of me believe that he will tell me honestly….)

(Come to think of it, I never asked Jude in depth why he was at Crown.)

It’s said that he dared to sign a contract with Crown when Victor suspiciously approached him with a tearful face, I’m sure…. I’m not wrong that it was to get information you need.

(I guess I have no choice but to observe Jude...)

Ellis: Your brow’s wrinkled. Thinking?

Kate: Oh, Ellis.

Kate: Just in time! Do you know where Jude is today?

Ellis: It seems like Jude went on a mission after showing up at work. What's wrong?

Kate: Actually...

When I explained the reason, Ellis smiled.

Ellis: I'm joining Jude after this, so let’s go together.

Ellis led us to a pub with a suspicious atmosphere even though it was daytime.

There, Jude was in the middle of a cruel and merciless judgment.

Jude: Oy, no runnin’ away. The story is your usin’ illegal sleeping pills, messin’ ‘round with girls, and sellin’ ‘em off.

Scoundrels: Guh….!

Ellis: Kate , if bottles start flying, it won’t be safe, so stay here and hide.

Ellis: I’ll be there.

Kate: Ah, yes! Ellis, be careful not to get hurt too.

Ellis: Jude, here you go.

Jude: Tsk, what’re ya waitin’ for?

Ellis: I'm sorry. I'll try a little harder to make up for my tardiness.

I watch Jude and Ellis fight together from the shadows.

Liquor bottles and people lightly fly through the air, and the sound of blows rings out.

(Hmmm...this is what it means to scream.)

(This is supposed to be a Crown assignment.)

Jude does not follow the orders of others unconditionally unless the conditions are acceptable.

Therefore, there must be a reason why Jude accepted this mission.

In the meantime, everyone had fallen to the ground.

Jude: What, ya think I'm gonna kill ya? I’m not gonna to kill ya.

Jude: There's a coal mine at the far end of the country, and I thought it’d be fun doin’ manual labor there.

Scoundrels: ……. A coal mine?

Jude: Before you go to a cold, dark, and fun place, I'll give you a present.

Jude: Ellis, take ‘em to the black market surgeon later. Hand ‘em all over to be castrated.

Ellis: Yeah, okay. If it makes you happy, Jude.

As the thugs screamed in despair, Jude put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

Jude: The prevalence of inferior products is proof that the drugs weren’t distributed sufficiently.

Jude: ……Guess we’ll just have to handle it ourselves.

Jude's company eliminates the value of inferior products by distributing the correct products.

(That’s how Jude tries to eliminate evil at its source.)

Thanks to all the time I've spent, I had unintentionally come to understand Jude's way of doing things.

(The method may be as radical as ever.)

(But, there are somethings you can not protect with a straightforward approach. That’s why…)

Kate: Jude is absolutely essential to Crown…..

Jude: So, how long are you going to be sneaking around in there?

Kate: ….ah.

I was thrown onto a bed in a room at the back of the pub, and his hands restrained me while lying down.

Jude: You’re a real bad princess for peeping without permission.

Jude: So, what are you up to now?

Kate: That’s…..

Jude: I could torture ya and make ya spit it out. You're a pervert who expects to be tortured, aren't ya?

I could smell the scent of sandalwood wafting from Jude, and my body temperature seemed to rise once.

Jude: Ha. Why’re ya lookin’ so hopeful? Ya really are a pervert who likes things that feel good.

Kate: T-that's wrong! Actually-

Jude: Hmmm, reverse assessment.

Jude: That's just like that woman who loves fairness. ***

Jude: So, ya followed me ‘round to review me. You've come a long way.

Kate: As for following you around without telling you, I'm sorry.

Kate: But thanks to that, I was able to reaffirm what’s important to me.

Jude: What?

Kate: You are definitely suited for the Crown.

Jude: Ha. Who d’ya think ya are?

Kate: I’m a fairytale keeper. Hehe, I think I can write a good report with this.

Kate: I'll write it perfectly, so you can rest assured, Jude. Well then, I'm -

Jude: Why’re ya tryin’ to go home? There's no way ya could just spy on me and go for free.

Kate: Eh.

Jude: There's another matter to tend to.

Jude: I just need a decoy. You love hide-and-seek, don't ya?

Kate: A decoy!?

Jude: Poor thing. Ya wanna go home, but can’t. Pay the price for sneaking without permission.

Kate: Oh, come on….!

Jude: Those defiant eyes are so temptin’.

Amethyst eyes looked down at me cruelly becoming distorted.

Kate: In the report, you know I can write down all of your actions, Jude.

Jude: Write, write. However…

Jude leaned forward and looked into my face.

Jude: You...wouldn't you be lonely without me?***

Kate: …….

Kate: That’s not true….!

Jude: Huh. What are ya upset ‘bout?

[Master List]

***白々しい This appears to be a nuance: Jude’s being insincere about the Queen’s apparent fairness. It can be rendered white-wash, insincere, bare-faced (lie), shameless, but I felt that this was used just to explain his insincerity or doubtfulness in the Queen. ***Just to clarify, Kate is essentially threatening that what she writes in her report about Jude can cause his dismissal from Crown. So, that's why he tells her to write it, but.....she'll miss him, won't she?

#ikemen villains #Ikemen villains translations #ikevil #ikevil translations #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikemen jude #ikemen jude jazza #cybird translations #ikevil spoilers #ikevil jp #ikevil jp spoilers

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clxja16 · 1 year ago

Text

Enough

Part III

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: Toto Wolff's Daughter Au!

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 4K+

Author's Note: this is turning out way longer than it was suppose to be. I never thought this was going to take this many parts. I'm so sorry for putting you guys through this. This is intense man, like damn. Idek if she's going to be able to fix her relationship with her parents after this. Like damn. I'm just going to apologize now for whatever emotional damage this causes. Also I don't think Toto is like this is real life. This is strictly for the sake of entertainment. This is in no way based on real life.

Part I, Part II

-----------------------------------

Charles wants to ensure that this proposal is absolutely perfect for you. He wants you to have the fairytale you’ve always wanted. Joris is absolutely sick of hearing about this proposal already. Everything from the ring, to where he was going to propose, to how he was going to do. Charles has created a very well crafted, detailed plan about this proposal.

Charles is going to take you out on his boat, just before sunset. He hired a private chef, to cook the two of you a romantic dinner, that will be held privately. Then just after dinner, Charles would bring you around to the deck of the boat, where the two of you can stargaze before he pops the question. And Joris will be hiding out on the boat, that way when Charles proposes, he can get all the pictures. And then if you say yes, there will be an engagement party awaiting you and Charles.

“Charles, I told you we got this,” Joris repeats for the thousandth time, as Charles repeats the steps to the plan again. Lorenzo chuckles as he watches his brother pace back and forth.

“Are you sure you want to propose?” Arthur asks, as he exchanges a side eye with Joris, “I mean if you’re this nervous then maybe you don’t actually wanna get married. You guys haven’t been together that long.”

Charles finally takes a seat, he looks around the table to Lorenzo, Arthur, and Joris. “I just want it to be perfect for y/n,” he sighs, running his hands over his face, “I want to spend the rest of my life making things perfect for her.” Charles wears a stupidly lovesick smile on his face as he thinks of you. It makes Joris and Arthur sick to see how in love Charles is.

“Alright, alright,” Arthus says.

“We got this, stop worrying so much,” Joris says, as he stands up patting Arthur’s arm to tell him to go. “We’ll go make sure everything is prepared,” Joris says, as he and Arthur take their leave. Charles nods to what Joris said.

Lorenzo stays seated, he takes a moment to watch Charles. Lorenzo can see how the stress has ingrained itself into Charles. He sees how the anxiety is weaved into Charles. And still Lorenzo can see the love that is painted into Charles’ eyes. “What’s on in your mind brother?” Lorenzo asks, wanting to pry Charles' worries from his hands.

Charles sighs once again, “did you invite her parents?” Charles lays his worries out for Lorenzo to see.

“I did,” Lorenzo answers.

Charles looks to Lorenzo, “it’s my fault she’s at a cross with her parents.”

Lorenzo closes his eyes after hearing Charles’ statement. Charles is kind-hearted, well mannered, responsible, hard-working, dedicated, and so much more. However, Charles is also stubborn, hot-tempered, and he can be thoughtless at times. “I told you,” Lorenzo starts off, pointing at Charles, “I told you not to mess with her, not to get involved with Toto’s daughter, did you listen?”

Charles sighs, he knows Lorenzo warned him beforehand. “No, I did not.”

“No, you did not,” Lorenzo repeats to Charles, “it’s too late to be blaming yourself about what happened, it happened already. There’s no going back,” Lorenzo takes a breath, he runs his hand through his hair, wanting to pull some out because of Charles. “Let me ask you brother, do you love this girl?”

“I do, more than I love racing,” Charles answers.

“Then forget everything else already,” Lorenzo says, truthfully. Another thing about Charles, is that there isn’t much that he loves more than racing. “If you love her as much as you say you do, forget about her parents, forget about everything that has happened. You marry her, you love her, and you spend the rest of your life making things perfect for her.” Lorenzo knows that there’s no stopping you and Charles from being together. From the moment he saw the two of you interact with each other, he knew this was bound to happen. Lorenzo hasn’t seen anyone that could match Charles better than you can. “Because like mama has told us, you never get a love like this twice.”

Charles smirks at Lorenzo’s words. Charles remembers his mother’s stories about her relationship with their father. He remembers her talking so deeply about the love they shared. How it was a once in a lifetime type of love. How it was a love that was dipped in gold. How it was a love that was enough for more than a thousand lifetimes. “Thank you,” Charles tells Lorenzo.

Lorenzo nods at Charles’ gratitude, before standing and saying, “we’ll see you tonight, and please brother, let her dress you.” Charles laughs at Lorenzo's joke, as he watches Lorenzo leave.

“Charles, you want me to wear the white dress?” you question again, as you stood in the bathroom fixing your hair for tonight. “Where are we going tonight?”

“We’re just going out on the boat,” Charles says, as he walks into the bathroom as he’s fixing his sleeves.

“Why the white dress then?”

“Because I'm wearing white ma cherie, I want us to match,” Charles smirks, planting a kiss on your cheek, as grabs the bottle of cologne on the counter and walks back out.

You move away from the bathroom mirror, leaning on the door frame, watching Charles as he moves about the bedroom. You could notice the light shine on his forehead, he was so clearly nervous about something. You try to rack your mind with all the important dates. It wasn’t any type of anniversary, you could remember. It most definitely wasn’t Charles’ birthday, and you know it wasn’t your birthday. It couldn’t be Arthur’s or Lorenzo’s birthday. A tiny voice in the back of your mind wonders if he was gonna propose. But you told that little voice to be quiet, because there was no way he was going to propose.

You and Charles had been going out for less than a year. Nothing about the relationship was really conventional. You guys haven’t even officially been living together. It doesn’t seem like the proper time in a relationship to propose. But you do wonder, if he’s gonna do it. You smile to yourself, thinking about what it would be like to be Mrs. Leclerc.

You grab the mini white sundress that Charles is so insistent on you wearing tonight. You change out of the comfort clothes you’ve been wearing. When you emerge again from the bathroom, newly changed into the dress, you catch Charles staring at you. “I’m ready,” you say as you look up to meet Charles’ eyes.

You don’t miss the small flush on his cheeks, “wow,” he mumbles under his breath. “You look…” Charles tries to think of a compliment that perfectly encapsulates how breath-taking you are. “Damn,” Charles says instead.

You giggle at his choice, “I look damn?”

“No,” Charles quickly says, shaking his head, “words to describe how beautiful you look tonight, haven’t even been invented yet.”

You giggle again at Charles’ cheesiness, “well I guess that’s a compliment.” Charles smiles at you, planting a kiss on your lips.

“Shall we go?” Charles asks, as he pulls you out of the bedroom.

“Yes we shall.”

Charles brought you around to the deck, when you guys finished up dinner. The stars up above were shining bright. There was a blanket and pillows set up on the deck for you and Charles to sit and stargaze. “Dinner was lovely,” you say, as you take a seat next to Charles on the blanket. “How did you find this private chef?” You looked over curiously at Charles.

You could see the faint red creep up his cheeks, “honestly?”

“Honestly,” you say as you begin to giggle wondering where this private chef Charles hired, came from.

“He’s one of the team chefs,” Charles laughs out loud.

You can’t help but laugh along as well. “You hired your team’s chef for our date tonight?”

“He makes great food and I didn’t know who else could do a private dinner,” Charles says very bashfully.

“You’re lucky, you’re so cute,” you say with a smirk going to kiss Charles. He pulls you in closer, as the two of you look out into the night sky. “Tonight was perfect, Charles.” There’s a pause before you continue. “Thank you for tonight.”

Charles can feel his heart banging against his chest. Your ring feels heavy in his pocket. His breathing sounds louder than ever. However he doesn’t feel an ounce of worry. Having you staring at him, with love swirling deep in your eyes, it makes him feel calm. You make him feel calm. He enjoys this feeling of calmness when he’s with you. So much so that when he pulls you to your feet to stand with him, he isn’t worried about what’s going to happen next.

Charles pulls you up, so the two of you are standing on the deck. Nothing but the vastly beautiful night skin surrounding the two of you. “I love you, y/n Wolff. I am madly, deeply, whole-heartedly in love with you.” Charles says as he pulls a box from his pocket, “I know we haven’t been together for long, but I’m never going to stop being in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and only you.” He gets down onto one knee, “will you marry me, y/n?”

You’re nodding your head before Charles can even open the box to show you the ring. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say repeatedly, holding out your hand for your ring. Charles just smiles at you, as he slips the ring on your finger. You don’t think you even spare the ring a second glance as you focus on pulling Charles in for a kiss. He stands, pulling you closer by the hips as your hands hold his face. When you finally pull away, Charles can see the tears that line your eyes, and you repeat once more, “yes.”

After Charles finally asked the question, and you said yes, did Joris come out of hiding, snapping all the photos of the intimate moment. Charles brought you back to the land and there awaiting was yours and Charles’ closest family and friends. All congratulating you on the engagement. To you this was the perfect way to end the night, celebrating with people you held near and dear to your heart.

As you and Charles made your way through the party, making sure to stop and talking to everyone that came. Towards the end, did you see your parents, patiently awaiting their turn with you and Charles. As you see them, a part of you wants to pretend you didn’t see them, you want to turn around and find someone else to talk to. But Charles doesn’t allow that, he plasters a kind smile on his face for your parents as he waves to them. He holds your hand tightly, pulling you towards them.

“Thank you for coming,” Charles speaks up first, as you stand in front of them.

“Of course, we couldn’t miss such a special moment,” Susie says, not taking her eyes off of you. “Congratulations sweetheart.”

“Thank you Mamma,” you say, as you feel the tears line your eyes again. Susie sticks out her arms for a hug and you welcome her hug. “Thank you for coming,” you say whole-heartedly with a full smile. Your heart begins to feel at ease.

“Congratulations Darling,” Toto says, pulling you from Susie for his own hug.

“Thank you daddy,” you say as a few stray tears fall from your eyes.

Charles watches the sweet moment exchanged between you and your parents. He knows that this is what you needed.

Nevertheless, news travels fast in Monaco. It only took two days before photos of yours and Charles’ engagement was leaked to the media. Articles were published, social media posts were made, the formula one podcast were covering it. Everything had one thing in common though. It was said ‘Charles Leclerc is engaged to Toto Wolff’s daughter.’

You don’t know why but it rubbed you the wrong way. You have always been known as Toto Wolff’s daughter, and it never bothered you before. It never used to bother you when people referred to you as the little wolf, or as the mini Toto. You used to love being known as Toto’s daughter. However, at this moment, it wasn’t the same.

You didn’t read all the articles, as most of them were just copies of each other. You did scroll through one just to see what people were saying, and you noticed that it took them three paragraphs before even mentioning your own name. Then, even after mentioning your name in the article, they still referred to you as Toto Wolff’s daughter. Your name never made the headlines, your face didn’t even make the cover photo. You don’t know what it was, but this time, it didn’t feel good being known as Toto Wolff’s daughter.

“Charles,” you spoke up, leaning on the doorframe of the bedroom, looking at Charles laying on the bed, “let's get married.”

“Ma cherie,” Charles said pointing at your left hand, “that ring means we are getting married.” Charles chuckles as he sits up in the bed.

You smile, looking at the ring on your finger. “I know, but I mean let's get married now,” you say, looking up at Charles, “like before the season ends, let's get married.”

“Are you sure?” Charles looks at you with worry.

“I mean we can have a big wedding, with all the bells and whistles later on, but I wanna be married now. I wanna be Mrs.Leclerc before the year ends.” You smile as you speak, thinking that will be a good enough reason for Charles.

Charles smiles at you, he can see through your charade but he’s willing to give into you. “If that’s what you want, we will do that,” he comes up to you, kissing you on the forehead. “I have to ask what brought this on?” Charles looks at you closely, and you know that your false reasons aren’t enough for him.

You hang your head a little knowing that the reason behind the need to get married right away, is a little foolish. “I am known as Toto Wolff’s daughter. Did you know it took an article three paragraphs to even mention what my name was?” You sigh, even as you say it aloud it sounds stupid.

“Would you rather be known as Charles Leclerc’s wife?” Charles knows that trading the Toto Wolff’s daughter title for the Charles Leclerc’s wife title, isn’t going to satisfy you.

“It would be a title I want, rather than a title that I'm stuck with.” you try to reason, you don’t know if you’re helping or hurting your case.

“y/n,” Charles gives you a look. You don’t like it when Charles knows you better than you know yourself, “we both know you don’t want to be known as Charles Leclerc’s wife. You gotta make a name for yourself baby, maybe as a driver.” Charles raises his eyebrows at you, looking hopeful.

“It’s been five years,” you say, looking nervously at Charles. There isn’t a day that goes by that you haven’t thought about racing again, but five years is a long break for anyone.

“The numbers you put up on my simulator are enough to suggest you still got it,” Charles says as he walks past you, out of the bedroom to leave you with your thoughts.

You think for a second, “I still want to get married before the season ends,” you shout for Charles to hear you.

“We can do that too ma cherie,” Charles shouts back, causing you to smile. You do think about his suggestion of going back to racing though. You can’t stop thinking about it.

“Charles,” you spoke first, walking to the living room, with a stack of papers. Charles sat up to pay attention to you. “I meant it when I said I wanted to be married before the season ends.”

Charles slowly nods his head, “okay.”

“Let’s do it after Monza, right after Monza. Your brothers are going to be in Monza for the grand prix, so will my parents. Lake Como is a couple hours away. We can go to a courthouse and then the lake for pictures. What do you think?”

“Ma cherie, if that’s what you want, we can do that.” Charles smiles softly at you, he is willing to give you whatever you want. “What are those papers?”

“Marriage license, that we need to fill out a file to get married,” you smile excitedly at Charles while he chuckles. He could tell you were excited to get married.

“Okay,” he says with a smile, as you hand him a pen. The two of you spend the rest of the evening filling out all the official paperwork to get married. The two of you decide to go to the courthouse the Tuesday after the grand prix. Charles makes sure to call his mom and his brothers about the event. He tells you that Pierre and Carlos are going to insist on coming as well.

You tell him that’s fine, you don’t mind a few extra guests, as long as it’s not the entire grid. You know you’re going to have to invite the entire grid when you make the actual big wedding.

“Are you packing for the Netherlands?” you questioned as you made your way into the bedroom. Charles' clothes were laid out on the bed to be packed.

“Yeah, my ear is still bothering me, I think I’m going to have to drive it.”

“Oh no, a driver has to drive to his race,” you say overly sarcastically to Charles. He shakes his head at you with a bit of a smile.

“Are you flying with your father?”

“I was thinking of going with you,” you say, as you sit on the bed, watching Charles fold his clothes.

Charles looks up at you with a smile, “I would love for you to come with me ma cherie,” he says as he leans down to give you a kiss. “We leave tomorrow though, better get to packing.”

“Yes sir,” you say sarcastically with a little salute. Charles raises a brow at you, causing you to start blushing madly. “I’ll pack.”

“y/n,” Charles calls out, stopping you in your tracks, “did you tell your parents about the wedding?’

“I will, tonight. After I pack.”

After you packed your bags for the Netherlands and for Monza, you headed to your parents house for dinner. You felt extremely nervous about telling your parents about the wedding. In your gut you felt like telling them would be a mistake. You couldn’t figure out why, as they seemed to be more accepting of your relationship with Charles at the engagement party. Your father even congratulated you.

You knew that this isn’t going to be the wedding they originally anticipated. You know they are going to want a reason for the sudden rush to be married. You don’t know if you want to tell them your reason though. Your father would probably take offense to your aversion to being known as Toto Wolff’s daughter.

When you walk into the house you can smell your Mamma’s cooking. She didn’t cook often, considering that her and your father were constantly traveling for work. That when she did cook it was a special occasion. You loved your Mamma’s cooking, something about it tasted extra special. Almost like you could tell she was cooking with love.

“Hi sweetheart,” Mamma greeted you as you made yourself visible in the kitchen.

“Hi,” you greeted back with a big smile.

“Dinner is just about ready, get your father from his office please,”

“Of course Mamma,” you say as you make your way to the office. You knock first, before slowly pushing the door open. You see your father sitting at his desk typing away, “Mamma said dinner is almost done.”

Your father smiles when he hears your voice, he finishes his typing, shutting his laptop before standing, “lets eat.”

Dinner is filled with many laughs and stories. It feels like nothing has changed. You know things have changed, you know that it's different now. But you like that this place still offers you the feeling of home. You may not have forgiven them but you are accepting that they were just trying their best. This is their first time in life too.

As you begin to wrap up dinner, you know it’s time to tell them. “I have some news to tell you guys.”

“Good news?” Your mamma questions as she places the last of the dishes in the sink to be washed, before walking back towards the table.

“I think it’s good news,” you say.

“What is it darling?” Your father questions as he sits up in his seat.

“Me and Charles are getting married.”

Your Mamma chuckles a bit, “sweetheart, we know that, we were at the party.”

“No, I mean we’re getting married soon. Like in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” your father questions, looking seriously at you.

“That’s really soon,” your Mamma says.

“Why are you rushing?” Your father questions.

“I want to be married before the season ends, I just want to be married.”

“That’s not a reason y/n.” Your father looks at you with a scorn. He makes it clear that he’s not liking this.

“I love Charles, daddy. I don’t want to wait to spend the rest of my life with him,” you try to come up with a good enough reason on the spot. Something that won’t hurt your father’s feelings.

“Are you pregnant?” Your father questions, his disdain being clear.

“Excuse me? No daddy, of course not.”

“That’s the only reason to rush into a marriage like this.”

“Toto,” your Mamma says, “I don’t think that’s fair.”

“That’s the only reason people rush into a marriage is when they’re knocked up.” You can’t believe your father’s words. “It’s probably why he proposed, because he knew. So how far along are you?”

“Daddy i’m not pregnant,” you didn’t know what else to say, as you shook your head, denying your father’s accusations.

“I told you Susie, he was no good for her.” Your father doesn’t stop, he continues on with “I should have never brought you to the paddock. I should have never allowed you to be around that boy.”

“Daddy please,” you begin to cry, you don’t know how the night took such a sour turn.

“Toto, I think that’s enough,” your mamma tries to stop your father.

“How far along are you, we can go see a doctor and make it like this never happened.”

Too far. Your father went too far with that last statement. Susie knows he went too far as well. She can see it in your face there was no saving it now. “I’m not pregnant,” you say with much disgust. “I wanted to get married so soon because I hate being known as your daughter. I much rather be known as Charles' wife than as your daughter.”

The way you say it hurts Susie’s heart. It almost feels like you’re saying you hated being their daughter. She knows you have every right to be angry. It doesn’t mean that your words hurt any less. She knows that this is hers and Toto’s fault. She just wishes Toto would stop digging their own graves.

You stand to take your leave, you don’t want to be here anymore. You don’t even know if you want them at the wedding anymore. “Even if I was pregnant daddy, I would never get rid of it.” You wipe away any of the remaining tears, “you’ve made it clear how you feel about this, I don’t want you at the wedding. Mamma, you’re more than welcome to come to the wedding, you and Jack. Only you and Jack.”

You leave it at that, and you don’t know if you can accept this. You accepted what they did to your racing career, but this is an entirely different matter.

Part IV

-----------------------------------

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sorchathered · 10 months ago

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Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @attapullman

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#top gun maverick #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun rooster #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fandom

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 months ago

Text

When The Rain Gathers..., Part 1

Summary: You thought that things with Ransom were simple. They were supposed to be. So why when you announce your marriage to Carter Baizen, and the now fast approaching wedding did things get so complicated? It was supposed to be you and Ransom versus the world. And now everyone wants to split the two of you apart. Ransom is your best friend, the man that had all your firsts. And even if people, and Carter are trying to pull you apart, you're not ready to say goodbye to the best thing in your life...

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader, Carter Baizen X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, mentions of loss of innocence, teasing, slight possessiveness, pining, creampie, Plan B, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.6K

Series Masterlist

You take in a full, deep inhale. Sensing and smelling the impending rain with a smile on your face. Ignoring the packed boxes behind you because your family home has always been the best place. Your bedroom and all the secret ways to get out of this castle that led you straight next door. You bite on your lip, trying to hide the grin that spreads on your face as you see his little boy bedroom. Memories flooding into your mind of the most amazing childhood with him.

You can see two kids, hand in hand, running away from these houses, and further into a fairytale world. A world where everything was so much simpler. A world of running to the highest hill in the area with the biggest and best climbing tree, and waiting. Watching as the sky got a bit darker. Time stops until that moment of the first drop of rain, and you and Ransom would chase each other. Dance. Sing at the top of your lungs. The rain creating an invisibility cloak around you.

You don’t know fully why playing in the rain was the best thing, but it was almost magical. Maybe it was just your best friend being with you. Maybe it was because the noise of the life of the rich stopped for a few minutes, and the water washed away all your etiquette. A time where the two of you could just be kids.

If the rain went on too long, the two of you would mosey on up to Harlan’s house. If the rain wasn’t long enough, you’d climb that giant oak tree, and sit and talk about the future. Your feet dangling off that perfect branch, while you held each other’s hands and talked about what you wanted in life.

“Sweetheart,” this is not where you saw yourself. His hands slide from your back all the way around your middle, connecting at the hands before he pulls you into his front. Carter rests his chin on your head as he looks at the distant house, and right into Ransom’s old bedroom. His parents have long since left that house. Now it was your parents’ turn, and everything feels like it’s changing.

“Are you about to finish here?” Conveniently Carter had a business call that stole his time away from going through your childhood memories or even plan your wedding. You aren’t sure if you were hearing things, but it sounded as if he scoffed at the many photos of you and Ransom in here before he hugged you.

“Yeah, and you’re about ready to fly out of town?”

“That would be part of the job,” he spins you around to look at him. His steel blue eyes raking over your face. “Are you angry?”

“No,” you sigh. You love Carter. There are some adjustments that you’ll have to continue to get used to. Things have moved rapidly since the engagement. And he still hadn’t met the most important person in your life. The second most important — that just didn’t seem right. But Carter should be the first, right?

“You’re just leaving when we should be planning our wedding,” he looks down at your hand, twisting around the too big ring he placed on your finger. What was your sister thinking? Or did he ask? Too bad he didn’t ask Ransom what would be the perfect ring. Ransom knew in detail, because he had the gall to ask during your first year in college, and you divulged everything that you wanted.

“You won’t get to be there for flowers, cake, and you won’t get to see the location site,” Carter releases an annoyed huff of air. “You’ve never even seen Harlan’s estate.”

“Why would we get married there?” This is one thing that annoyed you. He never understood the importance of Harlan’s property. “Under a tree that my fiancé dangled her little legs on, sitting next to a man that is in love with you.”

“No, he’s not. Ransom is my best friend,” Carter rolls his eyes, but maintains his smile. “He is,” you laugh because this conversation kept happening, and he had never met Ransom. He didn’t know the dynamic between the two of you. “It’s been a dream of mine to get married there.”

“We’ll talk about it some other time. I’m not heading to the airport with this as our last conversation,” if Carter said no, it wouldn’t matter anyways. He and his family would get what they wanted with the wedding, but at least you were getting him as a husband. But time is running out to find a location elsewhere.

“Then could you at least just think about it and consider it? Please? Pretty pretty please?” Carter chuckles, pulling you closer to him to give you a chaste kiss. “At least look at it?”

“Yes, I’ll consider it. You can show me in a FaceTime call, but I still deep down don’t think it’s our best option. I want everyone to feel comfortable, and I don’t think my family would feel that there. So can you respect that?” You smile, wiggling around, and nodding your head. Yes, you can respect that, as long as he will look at it, and give it a chance. A FaceTime won’t do the property justice. Harlan’s estate meant and still means so much to you. It’s the thing that never changes.

“Okay, tell me you love me,” his voice hits that beautiful tone that makes you want to jump into his arms.

“I love you, and do we have time…”

“No, we don’t. I wish. I could use the feeling of you on me before I traveled to work. Love you, and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, okay?” He walks backwards, his hand starting to slide out of your own, and you nod. A couple of weeks wouldn’t be so bad. And then a week. And then a marriage. That was the bad part. No, the scary part. No…intimidating part.

You still didn’t understand why he and his mother felt the need to rush this marriage. What could possibly be done in that little amount of time? You guessed with enough money, anything is possible.

Linda walks by her son at the table, stalling while she stares at him. Looking at nothing with his chin resting on his hands is all he ever does now. She walks back towards a table, and grabs up a beautifully intricate invitation and drops it on the table in front of her son. “Is this what’s bothering you?”

“What is this?” He looks at her confused. Flipping over the envelope he sees a broken wax seal with a giant B on it. “Mother?”

“I’m a bit confused on why you wouldn’t know. Open it.”

Ransom pulls out the invite. His eyes move over the pristine and gaudy paper before he lets it fall back to the table. Looking into the distance with even more confusion than ever. “She’d never agree to get married at the Liberty,” Linda shrugs as she walks to the other end of the table. “She was going to get married under our tree.”

“Ahh, you see the problem with that statement?” Ransom’s face turns up in disgust as he shakes his head. “‘Our tree’ and she’s marrying another man?”

“I figured she would always marry another man,” Linda rolls her eyes as she cuts her steak. “What?”

“Because you didn’t admit your true feelings to her.”

“She has never felt anything romantic towards me,” Ransom bitterly rolls his eyes as he stuffs a bite of food into his mouth.

“Who was her first kiss?” Ransom rolls his eyes again, taking a long drink of his beer. “Her first sexual encounter? Did you forget telling me the next evening that she begged you to have sex with her because she didn’t want to go to university as a virgin?”

“I — it wasn’t like that.”

“Okay,” Linda finishes, taking a bite of her food, but Ransom still stews. “You didn’t get an invitation?” He shakes his head no. His eyes glaring at the stupid piece of paper. It was too pure and white. It wasn’t you at all. Your sister, maybe, but not you. “You can be my plus one then. Also, she invited me to go shopping with her for the dress. Since her mother passed, she wants someone that knows her. She said she was calling you.”

“I just found out that she was engaged, and she mentioned going dress shopping, but…this date, it’s too soon. What the fuck is going on?” Linda clears her throat. “Don’t act like you don’t use profanity.”

“I am trying to do better. At least at the dinner table. And the Baizens don’t like long engagements,” Ransom groans. The Baizens. “Yeah, she’ll be moving to New York. She’ll look beautiful on his arm,” but will he play in the rain with you? Will he know that Ransom explored your virginal folds and you told him what you liked when it came to oral sex? Does Carter Francis Baizen III know that you liked your clit to be nipped?

Did he know that you didn’t like the city? That you’d prefer to wear Ransom’s sweaters than fancy dresses? Did he know how many children you wanted to have? And how they would have unique names that he helped pick out? Did he know that you haven’t been the same since your mother passed? Did he know that you hate people, and use him as a shield against that? That you’re painfully shy, and get so exhausted after being around a crowd, and dance helped you? Did Carter even know that you hated your birthstone, so claimed smokey quartz as yours because of its protective qualities?

He doubted Carter knows anything about you with how quickly this relationship has happened. Did you even know yourself anymore? “Did you give her your ring?”

Linda sighs, waiting on Ransom to look up at her before shaking her head. “It didn’t feel right.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t ask me for it, and I always thought I’d be giving it to you for when you got your head out of your ass and proposed to the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you,” Ransom looks up at her pouting. “Oh don’t be daft, Ransom. Everyone knows you carry a torch for that girl. You’d marry her tomorrow if she asked. The problem is you wait on her to ask, and she’s never going to. Because she’s too stubborn to admit that she’s in love with you, too.”

Ransom takes a bite of his food, looking at his less than desirable plate. Everything his mom is saying is a lie. You didn’t have any romantic feelings for him. He knew it that next morning. He knew then he was madly in love with you, and you had just been using him as a teacher, and if that’s the only way he could have you in that way, he’d take it

Ransom peers over your spent body. How had it only been a few hours since he finally got to have you in the most intimate of ways. Watch you as your walls came tumbling down, and you gripped tight on more than just his dick. Your hands clung to him. Your eyes couldn’t look away. Capturing him in a way that literally stole his breath away.

And after he cleaned you up, all you wanted was his worn in sweater. It swallowed you whole, and then you put on the most beautiful delicate panties. And now you’re in his bed in a fetal position with your ass right at his crotch. Perfect in ways he didn’t even realize. You were made for him in more ways than he realized.

Sweetly whimpering, you gazed down at where the two of you connected as he pushed through your walls. Nothing but skin on skin, and your wide innocent eyes. Gasping and choking as he slid all the way home. Your squirming wasn’t enough to deter him. You begged, and pleaded for him to show you what the big deal was with sex, and even he couldn’t explain it, until he had you. And everything was otherworldly.

You were overwhelmed, and he couldn’t regulate his breathing. But now that you’re lying next to him blissed out with your post-coital glow, it all makes sense. You may not know it, but you were made for him. You wiggle closer to him, exposing those sinful innocent panties even more, and he places a hand on your hip. Sliding it up and down over your stomach.

He loved you, but now he is completely, utterly, and unapologetically in love with you. He doesn’t even take his eyes off you when the door slowly opens. Linda peeks through the room, and shakes her head sighing. “Your father and I are going to head out for the day. Be smart.”

Ransom nods his head, still looking at you, and Linda already sees the too far gone look. “Here,” she pulls out a bag from the pharmacist, and lays it on his dresser. “Be careful. And I’m not condoning this, I just need you to be smart with this one.”

“Nothing happened,” he’s barely audible. He wished his mother would just leave so he could soak you up. You were exhausted.

“And I wasn’t born yesterday. That’s a Plan B pill. She needs to take it today. Gerald would not be happy with his baby girl winding up pregnant before she went to NYU. He wants to see her dance just like her mom,” Ransom rolls his eyes. Whispering for her to go. “I mean it, son.”

He didn’t care what she thought, he cared what you thought. If you told him today that you didn’t want to go into the city, and didn’t want to strap on another pair of pointe shoes, and didn’t know how to tell your dad, he’d grab your hand, and flee to whatever country you wanted to go to.

He’s not sure how long he lays here, watching you. Kissing over your exposed shoulder. Rubbing over your skin, and maybe selfishing touching your heated mound. But it would never be long enough. This is what he wants for life. You yawn, stirring more before sitting up. Wincing as you do, and you turn back to find Ransom snickering.

“You’re not that big.”

“And just how many cocks have you seen, Belle?” You turn back to look at the door. You should leave soon. You’re surprised that Linda hadn’t come in to tell you it was time to go home. “Mom and dad left. You want to watch a movie?”

He rolls over to his back, and suddenly you feel so empty. So alone, and he’s right there. Things feel the same, and also so very different because whatever last night was you want to do it again. Want to feel him pushing into you, feel his heated breath on your skin, see the sweat beading around his hair. And you asked him so many questions last night. Embarrassing questions, but he answered earnestly.

“They’re gone?” Maybe you didn’t have to leave. You didn’t want to. What you wanted was to try sex again.

“Yeah, she left you a Plan B over there,” you hide your face as every part of you heats up. “It’s fine. She thinks we’ve been sleeping together since we were fifteen years old.”

“That doesn’t help,” you whine, still cowering behind your hands. You had a thought, and then it was squashed.

“At least now you don’t have to go buy one,” you had mentioned it, but Ransom still pulled out of you. You wanted to give all of Ransom your firsts, not sure of why, but you felt like he owned all of them; deserved all your firsts. “Just watch a movie with me. Cuddle with me, and forget we ever had sex, okay?”

“Fine,” you harrumph, twisting over to your other side and face Ransom. Just like normal you lay your head and a hand on his chest. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer, and you caress his bare stomach. Everything is just like normal.

Ransom starts a movie, and you can't focus on anything but him. One time wasn’t enough to learn anything. You were awkward, and stayed in one position. You didn’t try anything. Nothing. This whore of a man stayed having sex, while you waited on him to finish, and would sneak into your bedroom, or you’d sneak into his once you saw the car leave.

Clearly he is feeling the same thing, judging by the tent lifting the blanket, but he says nothing. Not a damn thing. Your body is so heated and wet, you’re ready to burst. You want to try other positions. You want to ride him — ride a dick. You want to fuck in doggy style. And you want to feel cum inside you, not on your stomach.

“Ran,” you make your voice so sweet, and he swats your ass. “Hugh!”

“No! I fucking feel your pussy throbbing on my thigh, and it’s making me hard. It’s my body’s response. Don’t ask!”

“But you’re hard, and you didn’t show me nearly enough,” he spanks your ass again, growling when you whimper. “The Plan B is right over there,” you say loudly, sitting up in bed. “You're hard, I’m wet, and I don’t know how to ride dick. Or how to do it doggy style.”

“Get on all fours. It’s not complicated,” why is he denying you what you want? You wrap your arms around yourself pouting, and he looks back to the movie. Ignoring you completely. He’d fuck girls all weekend, but is denying his best friend. It’s cruel. What do they do that make him not want to stop? They were more aggressive.

Smiling, you clamor over top of him, straddling him as you demand attention. “Look at me.”

“I am. There’s literally nothing else to look at.”

Reaching to the bottom hemline of his sweater, you pull it off you, “Look at me,” he’s looking everywhere but your face. Eyes glossing over as he stares at your tits. It feels nice sitting like this. There’s so much — heat. You need friction. Movement. Think of porn. How do they move on someone? You roll your hips, getting a loud groan from Ransom, so you keep going.

“Touch me,” you whimper, pulling up his hands to place on your tits. “Grope me. Show me what you do to those other girls.”

“No,” he responds flatly.

“Why?” Even though he says no, his hands knead your breasts. Pinching and pulling your nipples as he starts sitting up in the bed. His mouth moving closer to your tits.

“Because I didn’t care about them. They were just a wet hole,�� you push him back down onto the bed, and he laughs.

“It’s not funny. What if someone treated me like that?” His face darkens as he looks up at you through his lashes. He is nearly baring his teeth like a wild dog. “What if some man at college uses me just for sex? I don’t want sex to be like that for me. I want it with someone I love.”

“It’s a dangerous game we’re playing,” you know it is. But if you have to play a game, it is going to be with Ransom.

“Just today. Until your parents get back. I want you to explore me. Teach me. Show me. Tell me how to know if a man wants my body or if he wants my heart,” Ransom sits up abruptly, moving his hands to cup your tits. Leaning forward his mouth circles around the sensitive bud, and his teeth scrape over the area, and you arch your back, pushing more into him.

“You’re too eager, and too sensitive. Minimum of five dates before anything moves past your mouths, not even oral. Clothes stay on,” you nod as he moves to the other nipple, and he sucks roughly. His tongue is able to circle around the peak before he pulls off with a pop.

“Remember you deserve the world. Don’t settle for some idiot at a bodega. You need someone that can give you a life of travel, wandering the world, and not having to worry about money. You nod again as he taps your leg, “Lift up a bit.”

Enthusiastically you completely get off him. Standing up on the floor where you shimmy out of your panties. Watching as he slides his boxers down, and you’re already bouncing back to the bed. “Easy. Don’t act like this for others. They’ll take advantage of you. Alright, straddle me, and grab the base of my cock.”

You listen, and start sinking over him. “No, guide me through your wetness. Use your body as lube,” you follow his directions, moving his head through your folds. “Now, find your hole, and slowly sink down. There ya go. Keep going, Belle. Keep taking me,” you sink, chest heaving as you feel him inside you. “Just like that, baby. Just like that. Take all of me. Don’t stop.”

You don’t. You keep taking all of him, until you’ve seated yourself back on top of him. “Now, just let your body adjust to me. Breathe in and out,” he holds up his hands, and you weave your fingers into his. Focusing on breathing, instead of the intense stretch he’s giving your body. You can feel him up to your ears. What is the normal size of a dick? Or is it everything else? Because he’s your Ransom.

“Belle,” his sickeningly sweet nickname for you rings up into your ears, and you can’t help but to roll your hips. “Fuck,” Ransom whispers as you start a slow pace of grinding on him. You look down at him smiling, “What?”

“This doesn’t feel the same,” this feels weaker than whatever he was doing to you last night.

“Because you’re on top, and there’s really not any thrusting,” you curl your nose as you look at him. “It feels amazing, sweetheart, but it’s just stimulating your clit.”

His hands grope the globs of your ass, and he lifts you up, only to let your cunt suck him back up, and a pleasured sigh releases from your mouth. “See. Try it. But just move to make it feel good. I’m enjoying the view of these little bitty titties. Maybe you can make them bounce.”

“You’re so gross.”

You awkwardly move over him a few times, glad it’s Ransom and not some random man that would realize how inexperienced you are. “Here,” he grabs your hands, placing them on his chest, “This anchors yourself, but also makes those tits look phenomenal. Arch your back, and pop your ass, and then contract it. Don’t overcomplicate the movement. And add pressure to me. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

He smiles, smacking your ass. His face lighting up when you yip, “I promise, now ride that dick,” you want to make a comment to him, but instead it comes out in a weird moan. “You like that, huh?”

“Like what?”

Ransom gets the most devious look on his face, and he grabs your hips, assisting a slow bounce on top of him. “You like someone talking dirty to you? Like hearing that your pussy is so fucking tight hugging my fat cock? Do you like knowing you look like a beautiful little slut, instead of a perfectly poised ballerina? Your training is better suited riding my cock like you own it.”

Your legs tremble with his words. You feel that you’re killing Ransom with how much pressure you have on his chest, but still he talks too filthy to you. “You’re taking me extra deep at this angle, huh? And if you want me to fuck you into the bed, you better make yourself come first.”

“Ransom,” you mewl, finding the most perfect rhythm to take him. Bouncing on top of him quickly. “Hugh,” you feel his cock throb inside of you, and fall on top of his chest, continuing to buck your hips on him. “I feel your heartbeat.”

“You’re laying on my chest, Belle, of course you do. You’re taking me so good, too.”

“No,” his hands smooth up and down your arms, and you feel so safe. Protected in ways that nobody else could. Ransom has always been your best friend. You're solid. The best thing that’s ever happened to you. You would share everything with him. Your life, your dreams, and now your body. “I feel your heart inside of me.”

You sling yourself off Ransom’s stomach, watching his handsome face contort. “Do I feel good?”

“This is best pussy I have ever felt,” he whispers. His fingers create bruises on your skin with how tightly he holds you. “Let me know if I hurt you. I’m trying not to come yet,” you nod, continuing to move over top of him. Whimpering at the sounds the your two wet bodies make in his quiet bedroom. “It’s the best, Belle. Because I actually love you. Put your hands on my thighs, and back.”

“But…you’re going to see everything.”

“That’s the point,” he lifts your hands off his chest. His crooked smirk makes him look more boyish than manlike. “We like seeing your body, but also seeing us slipping into you,” with your mouth turning into an ‘O’, and you do as he asked. Keeping your eyes on him, but he stares at your cunt swallowing him whole.

He looks beautiful watching you. You could almost see a life with the two of you as more than friends, but as lovers. Waking up and riding him every morning. Could anyone make you feel as comfortable as Ransom? Could they know the right things to say and when to say it? Could they also tease you, but never go too far? But if you chose that path with Ransom would it ruin the most perfect thing in your life? Would it be worth it to not have him in your life?

You hated to think about a life without Ransom. Without being the only one to make him smile. You were just as special to him as he was to you. And you cherish him. Even in this lewd act of the two of you changing your relationship in a way, but it feels right. It doesn’t seem grotesque of Ransom to watch your pussy. Even the way he pushes his thumb against your bundle of nerves and creates tight little circles on your skin, it seems to be for your enjoyment. He always makes everything about him.

He adds more pressure. Going faster. Faster. Smiling as your movements become harsh. Rapid. Too much. Body shivering as you set ablaze. Throwing your head back to look up at the ceiling as you sob out his name.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, but it’s so soft, like he doesn’t want you to hear.

You look back down at Ransom, and he gazes up at you like you’re a goddess. “Ran…”

”Get on your knees,” shimmying your shoulders, you position yourself like he asked. Waiting and watching as he climbs behind you. “Lean forward, and closer to the bed. Arch your back,” you do as you're told, but keep your eyes on him. He studies you like you’re a work of art. Running the tip of his head through your folds, you sink even lower, “There’s a good girl. Do you know how swollen your pussy is?”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Uh huh,” he slams himself into your warmth, and you cling to the blankets, crying out. “And I’m about to make her even more puffy,” his movements are all shocking. Skyrocketing your body further up the bed, and making your toes curl in pleasurable agony. Something so rough, shouldn’t feel this good, and yet it’s made you speechless, and gives you a loss of function in your body. It’s just euphoria.

Nothing else matters in this world but the way Ransom is railing into you. The way he grunts with every thrust. The girls he’s probably fucked didn’t matter because there’s no way he fucks them the way he does you. There’s no way that he stares at their cunt like it could solve the world’s problems. And there’s no way that he feels about them the way he feels about you.

You’ve always known that Ransom and you belonged together, but is being together this way so wrong? Is the way that he’s lighting you up, so fucking bad? You’ll probably feel differently when this is over, but right now this is too good to be wrong or a bad idea. This is everything. He’s everything. Everything with you.

“And when you want the best angle,” his arm goes under your stomach, and he pulls your back up to his chest, and somehow manages to fuck into you harder. “I get to see these perfect tits bounce around,” a hand goes around your neck, and you yearn for more pressure. “You have to tell me. Give me permission.”

“Own me. I’m yours,” he adds enough pressure around your neck, so that stars glitter in front of you. His other hand moves down your front where he stimulates your clit, and you scream, “Ransom!”

“I see all of you,” Ransom attaches his mouth to your neck, nipping, and sucking over the column until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Your stomach swimming with pleasure.

“I feel all of you,” you can’t stop the sounds from pouring out of your body, and the fluids. My god, why is everything so wet and sloppy? “My perfect, sloppy little slut. You know, I have a secret to tell you.”

“Come inside of me,” you’d hear about the secret later. “Your mom brought the pill. Just do it!” Everything happens so fast. His hands move around your body. Pulling, pinching, slapping, squeezing. What is this? What even is happening besides heaven?

You can’t take it anymore. This much pleasure can’t be good for one person, and you let go. Giving into the salacious pleasure, “No one has ever taken my entire cock,” Ransom says on your neck, and your walls clench down, holding him in a vice grip. Pulsing and fluttering around his body, until warm ribbons of cum burst into your belly, and you sigh. Relaxing in his embrace.

Nobody ever would feel this absolute. Because you were made for Ransom. He is so gentle as he lays you down on his bed. Walking into his en-suite with his cute tush bare to you. “Where are you going?”

He returns with a wet washcloth, and you roll over onto your back, “You’re doing that thing you did last night. What are you staring at?”

“Watching myself leak out of someone for the first time. And yeah, that thing I did last night is cleaning you up. Never settle for a man that doesn’t want to give you the best aftercare, and cuddle afterwards,” oh. So he was still in the mindset of this was just practice amongst friends. You can be, too. He was right after all, a messy breakup wasn’t worth losing a friendship.

He tosses the rag into his hamper before dropping down onto the bed, “What’s the next lesson, Ran?”

“Sucking cock like a porn star. You want to watch porn together?” you giggle, rolling your eyes at him before plopping onto the bed. Scooting closer to him.

“What?” You snuggle in closer with him. Desiring nothing more than his sticky skin on yours.

“How will you know what you want, if you don’t see what else is out there?” There is a bit of logic to this, but watching porn with Ransom would be weird, right?

“We can watch porn, if you promise to try it out with me. Just to see if I like it?” Ransom shrugs as he smiles, clicking on his phone a bit. “I’m serious!”

“You’re addicted to sex, and to my cock. Careful, Belle, I might have to dump you like the rest of them,” rolling your eyes, you settle back beside Ransom, clicking on a video before it casts to his tv. “Seriously? My stepsister let me creampie her tight little pussy?”

“No! I just clicked on something!” Mortified, you hide your face in his chest.

“You’ve ruined the algorithm now. It’s going to be step sibling porn the rest of the evening now.”

“What about best friends?”

“Is that we are?” You nod your head, and Ransom ignores you, clicking on his phone. “Here, playing truth or dare with my best friend until she lets me fuck her until I bust a load. This should satisfy your filthy self.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so good at sex.”

“Just promise me you won’t just fuck random guys. You deserve a relationship, okay?” You hold up a pinky, and Ransom wraps his own around yours. “Alright, slut, and I mean that in the most nice way possible,” and please, don’t fall in love with anyone but Ransom.

“Whore.”

“Ransom!” Ransom stares up at his mom, scowling. Years without you had hardened him. Years without your softness, and giggles, and private performances on a daily basis, and years without the way you felt on top of him. It’d been miserable. But he was trying to be happy that you had found your one.

“She’s in town,” Ransom shrugs. “Rain is in the forecast,” he smirks, pushing his chair back. “Be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

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