#fucking god maybe we can finally save for a house
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littlemourningstarr · 2 years ago
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My employer is FINALLY upping my salary to match my job position and it's fucking life changing I could cry.
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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months ago
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.⋆。When They Realised That They Loved You。⋆.
Team free will x plus size reader (separately)
Warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, fluff, (somehow Dean’s isn’t the angsty one), undefined relationship (Dean), mention of scars, sam detoxing off demon blood, childhood friends to strangers to ?, heartbreak, pain, mention of torture and pain and Dean’s death, sam being sad, gentleness, Ruby can catch these hands, seemingly unrequited love on both sides, a kid being lost, castiel being stupidly in love and not knowing what to do with himself, humanity being good WC: 3.8k
Minors DNI
A/N: One assignment left baby!!
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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Dean- When you were the only person he could let his walls down with
You weren’t exactly a hunter but you also weren’t exactly a civilian. You were… something else. You could shoot, recite an exorcism backwards and outdrink the most seasoned hunter but you also were stationary, paid your taxes, even had a retirement fund and to Dean, you were safe. And a damn good lay at that.
“That’s it baby. Move those hips for me.” Your nails bit into the muscles of his chest as you lifted yourself up on shaky legs, then slammed back down onto his cock. Dean hissed and bit down on his lip, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you fall apart just one more time before he succumbs to the blinding pleasure he could only find with you.
“It’s too much, Dean.” You wailed but continued to roll your hips downwards like you didn’t even think of stopping. His hands clamped down on the meat of your plush thighs as you tightened impossibly around his thick cock.
“Fuck, baby. I know you’re close; just come for me. Cum, and I’ll give you what you want.” He planted his feet onto your bed and thrust upwards, hitting that one spot inside you he knew made your brain turn into TV static. “Thaaaaat’s it. That’s my girl.” He cooed as you slumped forwards, your mindless babbling only serving to spur him on even more.
You tucked your face into his neck, kissing and licking at his skin like you wanted to swallow him whole. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pounded into you even deeper. Your soft body trembled against him as you tumbled into your final orgasm of the night, your cunt fluttering around him like it was made for him.
“Dean. Cum inside me.” You managed to gasp out as you rode the last waves of your high. Dean snarled and pushed himself in as deep as he could go as the dam finally broke and he succumbed to his own end. You moaned softly at the feeling of his cum filling you up. 
Dean relaxed back down into the mattress, your body a comfortable weight on top of his, easing away the pain inside him. He ran his hand down the length of your back, coming to rest on the gentle swell of your ass. “You good sweetheart?”
A quiet giggle vibrated through your chest. “I think I saw god, I am more than good Deanie.”
He rolled his eyes as he guided you to lay down next to him, his softening cock slipping from your warm walls. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”
“How many times have I told you not to wear your boots in the house?” You retorted with a jab to his ribs, quickly followed by a loving kiss against his lips. His heart skipped a beat as he wrapped a strong arm around your thick waist, pressing deeper into the kiss. You let out a pleased sound that made his spent cock twitch in interest.
But all too soon, you pulled away and laid your head down on his shoulder.
It felt so domestic, so real. If he just shut his eyes he could almost imagine that this was your shared home; a place for him to just be without the worry of saving the world or protecting Sammy, that maybe he could have a lawn to mow and tedious chores that he would be happy to do for you. He wished he could wake up in this bed every day instead of once or twice in a blue moon when hunting had dried up or he needed more supplies from your shop for hunters.
“Do you remember the day we met?” His voice echoed through the small bedroom, soaking into the old wallpaper that you refused to let him replace, claiming that it was just fine the way it was.
You hummed and glanced up at him, your eyes still hazy from an entire afternoon of ‘I missed you but I’m not going to say it out loud’ sex. Dean cupped your full cheek.
“‘Course I do. You broke into my shop at 4 in the morning and I almost shot you.”
“We still need to work on that aim of yours sweetheart.” You scoffed but snuggled closer to him, the sweet smell of your skin almost getting overwhelming. Your fingers traced over the scars along his torso, never flinching away or touching them like you wished they weren’t there in the first place. You were mapping out the story of him without question or hesitation.
“Yeah well why would I need to do that if I have you here to protect me?” You said it like it was a fact, that you never doubted he would come to your rescue at a moment's notice. “I’ve got Dean Winchester in my bed, I’m the safest girl in the world.”
His breath caught but before you could notice, he gave you that smirk that got him there in the first place and drawled out a low: “Yeah you do sweetheart.” You visibly flustered, burying your face into his arm to escape the heat of his gaze. 
“You’re always so mean to me.” His laugh bounced your head up and down. You began to giggle, unable to help yourself, and slid your arm beneath his back so you could wrap your body around him. Electricity followed your touch, his nerves sparking to life like the feeling of stepping out from the darkness into the sun.
God I love her.
The thought slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the air from his lungs. He expected a sense of panic, maybe dread, but all he felt was a sense of calm that settled against his soul. Dean just pulled you tighter against him and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. You returned it with a soft peck right above his heart.
He didn’t want to run from this, not this time. You were everything to him and he wanted to stay right here, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. Your breathing evened out as you succumbed to some much-needed sleep.
Maybe staying another few days wouldn’t be so bad, Sammy kept telling him he needed a vacation.
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Sam- When you were kind to him even after he broke your heart
Sam’s voice had gone hoarse over an hour ago but they still hadn’t let him out. He knew that they wouldn’t but still he had begged and pleaded, even succumbed to tears yet there was no answer from outside the heavy iron door. 
He slumped back against the cot in the centre of the room, the sharp metal scraped against his back but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt in every waking moment. The cold concrete beneath him did nothing to soothe the burning inside of him. 
“Please.” The word was barely even audible, escaping his lungs with little more than a whimper. Sam let his head fall back onto the thin mattress.
As soon as the door was slammed shut, all he felt was blinding rage. Didn’t they understand why he was doing this? The blood gave him the power they needed to help people! But when hours had passed without so much as a hint that they even heard him, the anger melted away into a sort of numbness. Dean and Bobby had tricked him into this, you had tricked him.
It was your face that he saw last as the door was shut. Your lips were pulled downwards, your eyes rimmed with red, your shoulders slumped. You had looked like you were in mourning. Guilt curled in his stomach, just like every other time he looked at you since the day he left for Stanford. But this time, the sour taste of betrayal filled his mouth like bile.
You were turning your back on him, siding with his brother when all he wanted to do was to make the world safer, for you. 
Sam forced himself to take a deep breath, even as his body screamed with the ache of movement. The air was stale and settled heavily onto his chest but he was grateful to feel it, he was grateful to feel anything besides the searing pain of his nerves. This was the first break from the hallucinations he’d had in days, or weeks, time, just like everything else, had no meaning within the iron walls that enclosed him.
The cotton of his shirt felt like it was rubbing his sensitive skin raw but to take it off meant moving and he was far too tired to withstand the pain anymore. His head turned, letting the right half of his face press into the cot. The single flat sheet on the bed smelt of the flowery laundry detergent that you always used, it made something inside of him twist sickeningly.
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
“Sam?” His eyes squeezed shut.
“Please not again. Please don’t hurt me again.” He begged with broken words. He cringed at the sound of metal scraping against concrete. He couldn’t do it again, he wouldn’t fight it. Sam was going to let the pain take him.
Soft footsteps drew closer. He braced himself for the first strike. Would it be the sharp pinch of a scalpel or the burn of a propane torch? Or would it be the voices of people he loved reminding him of just how tainted he was? How evil? 
He whimpered as they stopped right beside him. There was a beat, then two, then the gentle whoosh of air as someone kneeled down beside him. 
“Sam.” Your voice washed over him like a gentle breeze, easing the stiffness in his bones. “Sam? Can you look at me?” He wanted to say no, to yell at you to get out and leave him alone like you did when you first locked him in here but the exhaustion in your tone made him crack open one of his eyes.
You sat on your knees mere inches from him, letting him see you in stark detail. One of his flannels hung from your shoulders partially concealing the form-fitting tank top you wore beneath it. Normally, his heart would have skipped a beat seeing you wear his clothes, but now it only reminded him of why you stopped. Bruise-like dark bags marred your full cheeks, your eyes blood-shot.
“Oh Sammy. I-“ Your voice cracked. You reached for him but quickly thought better of it, your hand dropped back down to your side where there was a bucket of water now on the ground. “You know you can’t come out yet but I thought you might like to clean up a bit, maybe eat something that isn’t dried or jerkied.” 
Sam opened his other eye but made no other efforts to move. You sighed, your shoulders dropping as you sat back on your heels. “Will you let me wash your hair and change your clothes at least? I bought the softest ones I could find and even washed them in the fabric softener Dean keeps secretly buying.” Your lips quirked up, attempting some sort of reaction from him.
You looked so worn out, Sam wondered if you had sat right outside the door waiting for him to stop screaming. His head bobbed and the hardness in your gaze eased. “Thank you. I’ll be as gentle as I can, squeeze my leg if you want me to stop.”
He bit back a whimper as you guided him to the floor. His broad shoulders rested across your plump thighs, letting his head hang above the floor. You kept one hand beneath his neck, taking far more of his weight than he would be willing to admit, and reached for the small plastic cup floating at the top of the bucket. 
His fingers curled around your knee, his short nails digging into the denim as you poured a cup full of hot water over the crown of his head. You paused for a moment but continued when Sam loosened his grip. 
As you placed the cup to the side and retrieved a small bottle of fragrance-free shampoo, he let his eyes shut once more, this time, his mind wandering to the last time the two of you had spoken.
It had been in the days after Dean died. You refused to break down in the face of losing your best friend, the man that taught you to drive, to throw a proper punch. You wanted to stay strong for Sam and for Bobby but Sam knew it wouldn’t last long. 
You had been slowly, methodically cleaning Baby, just like Dean taught you to when the younger Winchester approached you with a bowed head and a duffle bag on his shoulder. Just like the day he left for college.
You didn’t wait for his excuses.
“You’re leaving?” You said but it didn’t sound like you, not really. Sam didn’t answer and you scoffed, throwing the sponge you’d been using onto the dusty driveway. “Just like that, running off days after-“ Your breath caught but you swallowed down your tears, “What are you planning, Sam? You know selling your soul won’t work, we’ve already tried that.”
Sam huffed and pulled the strap of the bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ve got a friend who might know a way to get him back.”
He should’ve seen the way your back straightened as your body went stiff. “A ‘friend’?”
“She knows a lot about hell and right now I’ll try anything to bring him back.” And then he did something truly stupid. “Unlike you.” 
Silence crashed down around you like a falling building, immediately filling the air with a tension so thick Sam could almost choke on it. He watched your shoulders draw up, your hackles raised before your chest expanded fully and you exhaled through your nose.
“Then I won’t stop you. I trust you Sam but I don’t trust Ruby and I won’t be around forever to fix up your messes, not anymore. I’m worth a hell of a lot more than just being the girl you always leave behind but keep running back to.” You fished Baby’s keys from your front pocket, tossing them at Sam as you passed.
“Ruby’s dead.”
“Is she?” You shot him a look before opening Bobby’s front door. “Don’t get yourself killed. Lose my number.” The door slammed behind you and suddenly Sam felt like he was making the wrong decision, again.
You ran a hand through his hair, letting the shampoo run through your fingers as you carefully washed it away with the lukewarm water and with it, you washed away his pain. He turned his head into your hand, soaking up every ounce of touch you were willing to give him. It’d been so long since he had felt anything other than lust or hurt pressed to his body. 
You refused to meet his gaze, not that he could blame you after everything he had done, but he wanted so badly to look into those perfect e/c’s even just one more time. To feel that peace and acceptance that had always swirled within the deep colour of your irises. 
Suddenly, all Sam wanted to do was curl up in your lap and cry. He’d spent so many years taking your warmth for granted and now, after months of being denied even a sliver of your presence, he couldn’t imagine ever being away from you again. He wanted to prove to you that you were worth staying for, you were worth everything to him, but all he could do was let you care for him with hesitant hands.
He loved you, he always had, even when he was trying to run away from his life, even as he fell in love with someone else. It was you that kept him from falling into that well of darkness that would be so easy to slip into. You with your sass and your gentleness, your softness and your bite, your laughter and your grief. He loved you.
But how could you ever love him back?
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Castiel- When you made him remember why he loved humanity in the first place
It was the sound of crying that drew Castiel to the playground across the street from the motel you had been camped out at. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sound to the angel given his age and how many prayers he’d heard throughout his existence, but the pitch was so high, so truly filled with fear that he didn’t hesitate to follow it.
“Angel? Where are you going?” He glanced back at you as you were pulling on your boots.
“There’s crying.” He said simply before descending the concrete steps to the ground floor. You let out a noise like a scoff and scrambled after him, barely grabbing the room key and your hunting knife before the heavy door slammed shut.
“Cas!” His pace didn’t falter as the crying picked up in intensity but he was confident you were following close behind him. His blue eyes flicked over the colourful plastic structures, expecting some siren or ghost to pop out at him. The weight of the angle blade against his forearm and your steady footsteps behind him reminded Castiel that he would not fight this battle alone.
He slowly rounded the bright yellow twisty slide just as you skidded to a halt a step behind him. Thankfully, you remained silent, a palm pressed to his back to remind him that you had him covered. The crying was louder now, though it did not sound like it was from any creature he had encountered before. 
There was a shadow at the edge of the monkey bars. Castiel’s blade dropped silently from his sleeve, sliding perfectly into his grip. He took a single stride forwards, ready to attack before it could when your fingers suddenly snagged the back of his trenchcoat.
“It’s a kid.” You breathed, he imagined it was out of relief but your human emotions always confused him. You slid the knife into the sheath you kept at the small of your back, tugging down your shirt so it was completely hidden as you cautiously approached the small figure curled up in the wood chips.
“Hi sweetie, are you ok?” Your voice dripped with sweetness, like he remembered syrup to taste like. You leaned forwards, your shoulders dropped as low as they could go.
The crying stopped but small hiccups still echoed through the maze of playground structures. The sun had been steadily setting and now sat just above the horizon, the darkness creeping in. 
Castiel watched closely as you squatted a foot away from the child, a soft smile on your face. “Are you lost?” The child finally looked up, their eyes wide and sparkling with tears in the low light of the evening. They nodded.
“Can we help you find your parents?” Their nodding got quicker and they reached out their arms to you. Your smile grew wider as you stood up, easily pulling them up and resting them on your wide hip. You turned back to face Castiel, a hand rubbing up and down the child’s back.
They must’ve been only 4 or 5 and wearing an outfit that was far from appropriate for the dropping temperature. “We’re going to go to the police station, I bet your parents are waiting there for you.” They looked up at you, still silent, but now clinging to your t-shirt in a way that made Castiel’s heart inexplicably skip a beat.
“This is my friend Cas,” You leaned closer to their little ear and loudly whispered the next part, “He’s an angel.” The child’s eyes widened and their head snapped around to look at him. Cas stepped closer, the child didn’t flinch.
“I am and so is she, that’s how she was able to find you.” He could almost feel the heat from your cheeks even feet away but still the child seemed convinced. 
��Really?” You hiked them up higher on your hip, your arm wrapping tighter around their little body to keep them warm.
“Really really. Now why don’t we get you back home?” They rested their head beneath your jaw and nodded, snuggling closer to your soft body. 
Cas dutifully followed you as you walked out of the park, watching the child bounce with each of your steps. You chattered away about things you were seeing around the street, your voice filling the silence like a white noise machine. Cas could feel the calmness radiating from the child and it warmed something long forgotten inside of him.
You had no duty to this child, nor any other person that you saved and he knew that you would receive no thanks for your actions but yet you still did them. You threw yourself into harm’s way to protect complete strangers from things they could not possibly understand. You had once confided in the angel that you had been pressured into hunting but you had stopped trying to run away from it long ago.
He’d felt anger for you, just the same as he felt for the Winchesters and all the other unfortunate children who never had a choice. He felt angry for himself, at humanity.
But seeing you now, caring for this child like they were your own, Castiel understood why you stayed. You didn’t do it for the glory of saying you saved the world, nor for some duty bestowed to you by your parents, it was because you cared and because you knew what evil was. 
The near empty streets soon gave way to rows of shops and townhouses, leading directly to the lit up police station only a few blocks away. The child started to fidget against you as they began to recognise their surroundings, making you laugh quietly. “I know sweetie! We’re almost there. You’re so close.”
You came to a stop right at the entrance. “You can go right in and tell them your name and that you were lost.” They nodded dutifully while you carefully lowered them to their feet. “Ok sweetie, you were so brave today but make sure you stay with your parents next time.” You ran a hand over their head and stod to your full height.
They looked at you and Castiel before gracing you with a toothy grin. “Thank you nice angels!” Then they threw open the glass door and rushed inside just as two grown ups turned the corner behind the reception desk. They fell to their knees, catching the little one in their arms.
Something warm brushed the side of his hand, making Castiel tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. You took his hand into your own, your eyes shimmering with tears. You didn’t say anything and he found that no words were needed.
Tomorrow, he would tell you how incredible you were, that you were what angels should be and that he was feeling something for you that he never thought he could ever experience. But for right now, he wanted to watch this child reunite with the people that loved them most while the chill of the night and the monsters in it were kept at bay by the brilliance of your soul.
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rebouks · 2 months ago
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Previous // Next
Alex: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! [wheeeeeeze] Byrd: Woah, lady-.. I know karate! Wren: No, you don’t. Byrd: [whispers] She doesn’t need to know that. Wren: It’s Alex, dipshit. Byrd: Ohhh-.. wait, really? Wren: Sure looks like her.
Alex: Oh my god, I found you-.. and I followed your CAT! I missed you so much!! I hope you’re not mad at me-.. I’m so SO sorry for not writing! I thought I was being organised by printing some labels out to save time, y’know? But then I forgot them at home when we went to my uncles and dad said we’d only be gone for a month, so I figured it wasn’t a huge deal, but then we stayed for what felt like it’d be FOREVER and I couldn’t for the life of me remember your address which is ridiculous ‘cause I SHOULD’VE had it memorised by now and I felt so awful as the months passed. I tried to remember it a couple times but you never wrote back so I figured I obviously got it wrong-.. then I tried finding your house on a stupid online map but the internet was crappy at best and the Bay is WAY bigger than I thought it’d be and I’ve never really seen your house in full view from the street either so, like.. I barely knew what I was looking for, and what if that camera car didn’t even map your house, y’know?!
Ava: That was.. a lot. Alex: Sorry-.. you’re not mad, are you? [Robin shook his head and took a breath, but nothing came out] Wren: Oop. Byrd: Yeah, I think he broke. Ava: Ooh, do you know sign language? Alex: No-.. I totally should’ve learnt! I guess I didn’t know I’d be coming here though… Byrd: I can teach you! Well, some, I’m still learning, but Robin knows a bunch. Ava: He’s not mad, by the way. He was just worried. [Robin shot his younger siblings a look, fruitlessly warning them not to embarrass him] Byrd: I’m sure he’d say hi, if he could. Wren: I bet he’d say you look pretty too. Byrd: He’s been extra mopey without your letters-.. or maybe that’s just what puberty does. Ava: He has to wear deodorant now, otherwise he STINKS! Wren: You should stay for supper, dad’s baking something.. again. Alex: Ough.. I was supposed to be home ages ago, dad’ll kill me.. wait, what school do you go to?! Byrd: Bay C-… Wren: Not us-.. he goes to Copperdale. Alex: Ohh, yay! I promised dad I’d finally unpack tomorrow but the day after that is Monday, right? Wren: Well done. Alex: Okay-.. ahhhh! SEE YOU AT SCHOOL!!
[Robin deflated as soon as Alex liberated him from another bear hug and sped off, releasing a breath he’d kept tucked beneath his ribs for an uncomfortably lengthy amount of time] Robin: Ouuuuuuuuuuuuugh. Robin: Why-.. why am I like this? Wren: You’ll spew something out eventually. Oscar: Alright losers, pie’s-.. what’s up with him? Robin: I’m fucking BROKEN. Wren: I mean.. you’re a little fucked, but still good! Oscar: Quit it with the swearing-.. what happened? Wren: Alex showed up n’ he broke. Robin: I didn’t even get to say hi or ask why she’s here, or for how long-.. and you just had to be embarrassing! Oscar: What’d she say? Robin: She said Alex was pretty on my behalf and I’ve never said that and she’s a DICK! Oscar: That’s tame-.. for Wren. Robin: I hate you all right now. Wren: Not as much as you hate yourself. Oscar: Hey, too much! Robin, c’mon-… Robin: SHUT UP! Oscar: Right, you’re on dish duty. Wren: Seriously?! Oscar: You reap what you sow, honey.
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clipartdinosaur · 11 months ago
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Griddlehark Fics
I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!
(♥︎ = favorite!)
Short (<15k):
"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)
The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”
"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)
Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.
"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)
One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.
"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)
Oh my god they were roommates...
"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)
She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.
"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)
Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.
"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)
Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).
"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)
Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.
"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎
“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”
"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)
Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.
"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)
"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."
"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)
It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else.  “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand. 
"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)
In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.
"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)
"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."
"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]
It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.
"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)
In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).
"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎
“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”
"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.
"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)
"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?
"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)
Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.
"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎
God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.
"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)
The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.
"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)
Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.
"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)
Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.
"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)
Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.
"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)
Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?
"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎
“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”
"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)
The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?
"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎
Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]
"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)
Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.
"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎
Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]
"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)
Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.
"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)
"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]
"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)
Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]
"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)
What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.
"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎
Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.
"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)
Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.
"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)
You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.
"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)
Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.
"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)
Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.
Medium (15-30k)
"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)
"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.
"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎
When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.
"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎
Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.
"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)
Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.
"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]
After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.
"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎
“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]
"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎
Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.
"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)
[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]
"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)
“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)
Long(>30k):
"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)
Harrow has a decision to make.
"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)
All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.
"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎
It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)
Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.
"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)
Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.
"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.
Ongoing:
"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s
"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)
ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library
TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.
"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)
After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.
"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)
John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.
PWP (basically):
"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎
“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.
"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎
"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.
"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)
“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.
"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)
“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.
"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎
Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.
"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)
Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.
"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)
Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”
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aboutchriss · 18 days ago
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walk with me
Pairing: idol!BangChan x fem! reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: chan being a cutie patootie with berry, reader is 22
Author notes: idk, okay?. i'm bored trying to avoid my relatives that are here for the chirstams holidays...please save me...i wrote this to...escape from this house, i hope you appreciate it. i'll probably do a part 2, it's 2:30 a.m here so yeah, and of course it's not proof read! (i'll read it tomorrow) oh and wear sunscreen my kids!!
💌
remember! english it's not my first language, please be gentle with me! let me know if there's any mistastake
💌
requests are open, especially on Christmas!
It's the perfect day in Sydney; the temperature is on point—not too cold, not too hot. It's the right temperature to wear a sundress and a little jumper that you probably won't use because you want to tan before the holidays, even if you want to tan though, you put sunscreen on and lay down on a beach towel in a public park, the grass is green and you can hear kids screaming and laughing while they're playing with a big grasshopper and any sort of insects, you have a book inside your purse, and cold tea, it's a daydream.
As you lay on the grass, something warm and wet touches your cheek—once, twice. When you open your eyes, you find a small, maybe a little fat dog with a smile on it's face (yes, dogs can smile). You sit down, looking around to find the dog's owner, and there he is the most beautiful, gorgeous man you have ever seen in your entire existence, is it possible? Are you having a heat stroke? He has dark brown curls, the kind of curls you can touch until you fall asleep, he's trying to hide a smile but you can see dimples on his cheeks, he has broad shoulders and big hands, and he looks like a damn Disney prince, are you daydreaming? What the fuck it's happening? "I am so sorry miss" He says in a muffled laugh
did he just called me miss, how old is he? 44? no, that's not possible, he's too beautiful to be this old
"oh, no worries -you giggle- i don't mind kisses from a gorgeous dog like her? are you a she or a he mh?" you say, now talking to the dog that is laying comortably on your lap
"oh uhm, she, her name it's berry" he says touching his ear
"Berry huh? what a pretty name" you rub her hear
"well i guess she's comfy there, 'm sorry, she's old and when she lays down somewhere well...umh - he touches the nape of his neck- she stays there for a while" he says looking right into your eyes
"oh, no worries...if you're free we can wait till she gets up" you say patting the place next to you on the beach towel
he smiles and you can finally see his dimples, and boom we're so fucked up y/n.
"your mom didn't teach you to not talk to strangers? i might be a serial killer" he says sitting down next to you
"what about your mom? -you echo- maybe i'm the serial killer" you smile at him
"touchè" he laughs
"i'm Christopher by the way, you can call me Chris or Chan" he says offering his hand
a veiny and big hand
"i'm y/n - you grab his hand and shake it- nice to meet you Christopher" he laughs
"are you from Sydney?" he asks caressing Berry that is still sleeping on your lap
"oh no, i work here, nothing more, what about you?" you say
"I was born and raised here, but i work in Korea, i'm here for the christmas holidays" he explains (not that you can hear something since your too focused on his thick lips, thanks god you're wearing sunglasses)
"Korea mh? and what do you do? CEO in a company? Actor? or you cook kimchi for stray cats?" you ask caressing Berry
he laughs and it feels like the sun just exploded
"I- uh- i'm an idol, nothing special" he shrugs
"an idol?" you echo
"mhmm, i have a group and we sing and dance and stuff like that" he says smiling
oh this dude really loves his job
"stuff like that mh? and are you famous?" you ask caressing Berry's head
"what about you? what do you do?" he asks
"uuuh, you're avoiding the question...is that a yes? you're famous!" you say giggling
"shhhh, i'm not, i promise i'm not that famous" he says
"oh...okay..." you look at him trying to see his eyes through his sun glasses
"so...what do you do?" he asks again, caressing Berry's head
"i-uh i work in a library, i own it actually...it's not that interesting" you say
"so you read a lot?" he asks
"i do, actually" you say smiling
"and what's your favorite genre?" he asks caressing Berry's body, his fingers brushing against your thigh
"i-do you want the real answer or?" you giggle
"of course i do!"
"smut"
"smut?" he echos
"yes, porn in books, smut, call it how you prefer" you say shrugging
"interesting" he nods
"do you want to grab a coffee with me?" he suddenly asks
"mh? you want to grab a coffee with me?" you ask
"yeah, with you and well berry, even if she might be the third wheel" he giggles
"okay"
"you don't have if you don't want to, i just asked because you're really cute and yeah i want to know you better" he spits out in one breath
"Christopher i said okay, let's go. I need to know more about your job and i won't leave Berry 'till you make me listen one of your songs, but before we go can i put sunscreen on your face? you burnt your nose" you try not to laugh
"oh? really?" he touches his nose
"mhmm -you nod- may i?" you asked
"sure, go on" he says lifting up his sunglasses
"tell me if i hurt you okay?" you say as you squeeze sunscreen on the tips of your fingers, putting it on his nose in the most delicate way possible
"you're kind you know?"
"i know" you smile
"i feel like a kid...wait i -he grab your hands gently- how old are you?" he asks
"old enough Christopher, don't worry" you smile
"i'm serious how old are you?" he asks
"i'm 22, and you?"
"i'm 27" he sighs and let go of your hands
"damn, what a sigh" you giggle
"i feel like a grandpa" he says
"you're not a grandpa Christopher, not with this body"
"oh-...thanks" he says is it the sun or is he blushing?
"okay, let's go, and by the way, you can't threat me with my dog" he says, getting up, grabbing berry from your lap and offering his hand to you
"what a gentleman! and that wasn't a threat, i just want to...listen to what you do okay?" you say grabbing his hand to get up and fuck he's also tall, and bigger than you expected
"of course i'm a gentleman. and yes, she's my baby, i would do anything for her, even embarassing my self in front of the most beautiful woman in this park with my songs" he says looking at you
"oh-" he giggles
is he flirting?
"come on, i know a good place for a coffee and maybe lunch?" he asks
"i'm right behind you" yeah right behind you staring at your fifty pounds of ass
"you know that my eyes are up here right?" fuck
"no, yeah i know, i was looking for my...purse...yeah my purse"
"liar" he says laughing and you push his back
"shut the fuck up, you've been staring at my boobs the whole time!" you say and he turns around to look at you
"i-did not- okay maybe a little okay? wait...you can see my eyes through the sunglasses" he asks looking down at you
"i do...you can see mine?" you ask
"i do"
"good than we're both idiots"
"maybe a little" he giggles
"come on, let's go we have a 10 minutes walk and berry is heavy"
"ugh, big arms for nothing" you mumble
"i could pick you up with one hand and throw you around if i wanted too" he says walking straight, he and his stupid fucking aura
"damn okay, sorry"
-
ten minutes later you're at the cafe, it's cute and cozy and the sandwiches on display looks yummy, and the man in front of you looks yummy; he took off his sunglasses now and you can finally see his eyes in a decent light, simply brown boba eyes, and you can clearly tell that he is a good man just by looking at his eyes. his eyes are also eating you alive, but again this is another story.
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tan1shere · 1 month ago
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Save Me
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: I know I got inspired by something but I can not remember- it mightve been from the show I just finished I dunno BUT I hope you all enjoy this angsty Rollercoaster 😁
Summary: Your life wasn't as colorful as it may seem. When you reunite with an old girlfriend you were finally able to get out of the hell hole. She took you away from all the harm. She, saved you.
Warnings: angst ! - happy ending duhr, abusive partner, ptsd - think that's it, lmk if I missed anything !
Tags (forgot to do this oopsies) @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu
Masterlist
"Fine, whatever I'm too tired for this."
Those were your last words as you open the dark brown front door. It was the Christmas holidays so everything was hectic. Your life, family. Your supposed partner. Partners were suppose to be in everything together. You truly wanted to be but Bri, was far from any of that. You have been going out for over 6 years now. First few were wonderful, then the reality kicked in and you saw her for her true self. A fucking bitch. But you couldn't just leave. You couldn't and it was stressing you out. There was two main concerns.
One, she started getting crazier as years led on. So you had zero clue what she might do if you leave. Two, there was a bigger thing in your life that had your main focus. You couldn't, not right now. So you had to suck it up. Three words you despise. But it had to be done. It was another day of arguing, oh joy. This time you just couldn't handle sitting around the house moping because of her harsh words. Her horrid temper. It reminded you all to well of your father. Someone who you had finally got out of your life, only to be replaced with the exact replica. "My mistake." You breathe.
It was cold, you had grabbed the first jacket on the coat rack before you left. You needed something to drink or a place to hide out that was warm. And far away. You open the door to a little Cafe. Heading over and ordering a hot chocolate. One of your favs. You grab it, going to turn around when you were face to face with. "Oh sor- Billie?" Your head tilts, looking at all her features. Yup it was her. "Y/n? Oh my God, it's been years!" She gives you a hug, dipping down just a little. You were shorter than her, than alot of people actually. Maybe that's why you always felt so weak, so inferior.
"I know, how are you?!" You say with such a wide smile, you missed her. You think about her often. But like most high-school relationships they never tend to last. She eventually got famous, being bigger and amazing. She had moved in the process, which you couldn't do. You loved your home town. So ofcourse everything left on good terms. Mostly. You did hurt for months after. She truly was your bestfriend too. So to loose both at the same time, hurt a fuck ton. Maybe you never truly got over it. "I'm actually doing very well. You?" You think for a moment. "Yeah, peachy." Peachy?
You internally face palm. She didn't really seen to pick up on it though. Or maybe she did but she just wanted to leave it. "What's been happening in the years?" You both go to sit down at a empty table to chat. "Well." You start but stop for a moment. What do you even say. Do you mention your girlfriend, your home together. Your daughter. Yeah. That's the 'thing' you've been worried about the most throughout all this. "Well, I uh. I met someone. We've been going out for just over 6 years. We have a place together and yeah." You didn't know if you could tell her. Was it weird? Even if it was some high-school relationship. You and Billie had been dating for about 8 years. It wasn't just some silly thing.
How would she react. Billie was amazing with kids. Even back then she was just the sweetest, silliest around one. It warmed your heart. And that is who you pictured yourself with. Pictured marrying having your own children with. But no, it's gone horribly. Bri isn't great with kids. Never horrible to Carley, near incidents. But you'd never ever let that happen. Sure you let her tread on you, horrible to say but thats who you were. You haven't always been like this. It's her to blame honestly. She ruined you. But you'd kill for your daughter. You two had a special bond, super close. Maybe that angered Bri more.
"How about you? Now that you're massive everywhere. Do occasionally hear your songs from time to time my-" You cut yourself off. "Friends all love it too." She smiles at you. "Things are good, hectic but amazing. I think about you alot you know." You look at her, her eyes. Those same eyes that you fell inlove with. As you do you realize that feeling never left. "I do also, there isn't a day you don't slip my mind." A comfortable silence was in the air for a moment. Something you had missed between the two of you. So soothing.
No screaming, no arguing. You and her kept talking about anything and everything, when your phone starts blowing up. Texts, calls. You hadn't noticed at first until Billie says something. "And I thought I was the famous one." She laughs. But her eyes linger on your lockscreen. It was some child. You quickly pick your phone up. "Just probably emails and such from work." She nods. "Hey, speaking of that. What do you do now?" You smile wide. "Office work at the moment. But, it is leading up to what I want to do." She now smiles. "You always were very driven." - "Wonder who I got that from." You say, still having a smile on your face.
With work. Her and your job. You hadn't felt much recently. Kind of empty. Depressed. It wad hard keeping everything together for everyone else. But not for your own well being. Putting on fake smiles forever. But now, now you were genuinely smiling. Something Billue has always succeeded in doing. Whenever you were sad. Instant cheer up was her. Her hands go to touch yours. "Let's keep in touch this time. Please. I have to go but I'd love to catch up properly next time." You reluctantly nod. "Yes ofcourse. I should probably go too. Get to these texts and such." You both stand going to give one last hug before leaving.
She still smelt the same. God you felt like crumbling, crying. Letting everything out. You cry alot actually. No one sees it. Whether it's a little one at work, or at night while bri is out somewhere. Drinking. Carley had caught it once. You tried telling her it was just a sad movie you had watched. You hated lying but the less she knows the better. She needed parents who loved her. Who didn't fight infront of her. She pulls back putting her hands on your head. "It was good bumping into you." - "Like wise."
Bri.
Where tf did you go.
Get home for fuck sakes. We can sort this out.
And pick up Carley. I'm not doing it.
"I'm not doing it, you do it because you don't do anything all day, while I sit on my fucking ass drinking. Blah blah. Blah." You grip the steering wheel letting out a dry breath. What has this life become. You saw it differently. You had managed to get the dream job. But in reality that wasn't happening. Another thing you lied to Billie about. Your boss was an asshole. Another one in your life. She treated you poorly. Which was interesting because you were the one making the good money, you made a bunch. Bri? She doesn't do anything no job. You then get distracted by the radio playing one of Billies songs. You turn it up.
Scoffing at what one it was 'Lost Cause' "What perfect timing radio." You laugh a little, how ironic. Deciding to clear your mind and sing on your way to pick your daughter up. She was having a little play date with a friend from school. Once you get there she's already out and coming in to see you. "Hi mama!" She says cheerfully. You smile so wide. "Hi pumpkin, had fun!?" She nods, putting her seat belt on. You were so proud when she came home saying she had a friend. Carley is quite a shy girl, like you when you were younger. So it was such happy news when she came to you super excited. "Her mums really nice too, you'd like her, and oh my God they have fun snacks." You smile. "I bet I will, that sounds so fun baby."
You get into the house, afraid. You never ever dreamed of being afraid to step into your own home. But you had Carley. Bri would never ever do anything infront of her. You made sure of it. "Go play love, dinner will be ready soon." She runs upstairs and that's when shit happens. "Where the fuck did you go?" You sigh, going into the kitchen. "I went to go clear my head. You know what that's like." She shakes her head. "For nearly an hour?" You stay quiet, getting things set up. "Answer me damn it." - "Yes for nearly an hour." She stares at you. "I want steak." "Didn't plan on doing that tonight." You mumbled. "What was that?" A quiet sigh leaves your lips. "Yes babe. Steak it is."
That's what it was usually like. You'd always avoid arguments. You couldn't bear it. Not only because you hated being yelled at, but you never wanted Carley to hear. She shouldn't have to hear such things about her parents. Bri goes back over to the couch. God you were miserable, how did you attract such fucked up shit.
Ever since Billie left that day years ago, you'd been a mess. You were blind to everything. She kept you grounded and once that was gone. You didn't know what to do with yourself. Lately you've been sleeping alone. How lovely, sometimes it was. Having the whole bed to yourself. Others, it was just lonely. Tonight you wanted to revisit those times, reminisce on old memories. "Mama?" You hear Carleys small voice. "Yes baby?" She comes over to you, getting on the bed. Or trying to. "I just wanted to say night, whats all this?" She picks up a Polaroid of you and Billie. "Old photos of when I was in high-school." - "Who's this mama?" You look at the photo she had in hand.
"Just an old friend sweetheart." She nods. "She looks kind of familiar." You so wanted to tell her about it. But you just couldn't. Carley actually adores her music and has many merch pieces in her room. Which was what you were going to say to Billie earlier today. "Yeah. She was pretty memorable." She stares at more laid out. "What happened, why arent you friends no more?" You take a moment, getting choked up by one photo. "Uhm, just went our separate ways. She was on to bigger and better things, and I was still figuring things out." You smile at her, motioning for her to come over to you. You kiss her head. "I love you. Go say goodnight to mommy too, yeah?" She nods, going to get down. "Ok mama!"
A few days had passed and you were planning to meet Billie. You got to go home earlier that day so you decided now was the time. You met at some beach, a calm place to take a walk. "So it's the job you always wanted, the one when we were younger?" The sand was warm, calming everything inside you. "Yeah, not yet but I'm close to." Liar. "I'm so proud of you! Gosh, we both got what we wanted." Your eyes look down, it was all lies. Your whole life. "Anyways enough about me. Hows fame treating you?" She laughs a smidge. "Great but alot of the time not. Majority its amazing. The fans are sweethearts but I hate calling them that. They're just- friends I haven't met yet." You loved how warm she was towards everyone. Happy that hadn't changed in the slightest.
"Latest album has been out for months now and it's doing great." You nod. "It's probably a favorite of mine, I love all the songs. They're absolutely beautiful." She gives you a soft smile. "Thank you, it means alot coming from you." You look at her confused. "Why so?" "Because I loved your judgment years ago, you were so creatively smart. So cute with your ideas. I admired it." Your smile was loving. You haven't heard such nice things in a very. Very, long time. "Well I'm glad I could be of service." Her laugh comes back, booming in your ears. God you missed hearing it. "You still look beautiful, different. But still gorgeous." You blush at her words. "Different?" - "Well, we're all older but you just look so, elegant and-"
She chuckles to herself. "Who is this lucky woman, she should be cheering out of her mind." Your demeanor changes. "Oh stop." You then try to hide. Hide your true emotions. "I mean it! She should know how lucky she is." A silence grows. One with hanging questions, lingering. "Who was that on your phone the other day?" You look at her bewildered. "Your lockscreen I mean." Shit, she did see. "Oh, just my friends daughter." Her brows furrow. "You have your friends daughter as your lockscreen?" Nice going. "Uhhh, yeah I'm like her aunt and she's just so adorable." You just hoped she'd move on. The less she knows the better.
You were currently at Billies place. She invited you for lunch getting to see her brother again after all these years too. You were currently sitting on a soft couch, soaking up the silence between one another. Until...
"Who was that really. On your lockscreen." You smile slightly. "I told you-" "Y/n, I use to date you. I know exactly when you're lying." Everything goes still. "Do you have a kid?" You slowly nod. She looks at you. "Why didn't you just tell me?" Her voice was so soft. You hadn't heard a soft voice other than your daughters in a long time. It was just yelling, yelling and more yelling. "I just-" She gives you a look knowing you were about to come up with some pathetic story. "I didn't want you to know the real me." She laughs a little. "I already do. I knew it all those years ago and I still do. But, you have changed. You're more timid." Your eyes move, looking at her.
"Spill, come on." You sigh, shakily. "I'm not perfect, nothing in my life apart from my daughter is. I didn't want you to think less of me." Her face softened. "I could never. I've always seen you as amazing." You smile again, she always brought out the true you. Maybe thats why you haven't been yourself over the years, she was missing. "When can I meet this angel?" You freeze. "Uhm, I dunno. It's just." She waits for a reply. "I don't think that's a good idea." Shes confused. Incredibly confused. "Why?" "I think I should go." You stand up going to leave but she's quick. "Did I say something wrong?" Your head shakes. "No no! It's just getting late I should get back." Something funny was up, she had a feeling.
"Alright.. I'll text you." You hold a thumbs up scurrying out of there. She was going g to find out whatever it was you were hiding. She needed to.
Another day of arguments. Carely at school. Perfect opportunity to scream. "You're fucking stupid." - "Why now, I've got a million-" Her hand lands straight on your face. Shes only ever done it twice and it ofcourse shocks you each time. She was getting worse and it just frightened you. Who knows what could be next. "Are you talking back?" She sounded like some sadistic man. She sounded exactly like him. "Bri." - "That was a question darling." You cringed inside, swallowing. "No.." She hums. "Good. This argument is stupid, just get back to cleaning." You just wanted to scream and shout. She was insufferable. You hated how weak you'd get whenever she'd yell, it brought up your ptsd. And it made you realize why the slapping didn't bother you as much as it should.
Another thing he did. Did he train her or something it was like being a kid again. Your childhood being relived.
There was a knock on the door but the vacuum cleaner cleared that sound out. Carley on the other hand was in the living room right next to it. She gets up, opening it and gasping. "Y- you're Billie Eilish." She was dumbfounded, feeling like she was dreaming. "Sure am, is your mum home?" She blinks. "My mama? She's hoovering. Come come." Billie giggles at the little girls choice of words, following her into the house. "Mama! Billie Eilish is here, Billie Eilish!" You turn it off shocked. "How did you-" "I know my ways." You stop what you were doing. "What're you doing here?" Carely was so giddy it was nearly impossible to ignore. "Well I hadn't heard back, so I decide the one way that I knew I'd get your attention."
"Just showing up at my home?" You laugh a little. "I mean you wouldn't be able to escape." Carely pokes Billies hand, causing Billie to look down at her. You were so thankful Bri was out drinking. Never a sentence you thought you'd ever utter but here we are. "Ms Billie Eilish, I loveeee your music." Billie laughs again. "Shes interesting." You smile. "She's the sweetest, always so polite." Billie smiles more. "You like my music huh?" Carley nods frantically. "How do you know my mama?" Billie looks at you, not sure what to say. You bend down, wiping hair out of her face. "You know those photos I was looking at weeks ago and you saw that little Polaroid? That was her." She looks at Billie. "Woahhh you were friends with her back then?" You nod.
"You said we were friends." You stand back up. "Well yes, I'm not going to talk about relationships to her she won't really understand anyways." Billie gives you a look. "You're hiding something." You grab the vacuum. "Is this why you came over here?" She nods, making you sigh. "There's nothing Billie I promise." Carely then taps her hand again. "Ms-" "You can just call me Billie, angel." She smiles at her. "Billie, can I show you my room?!" - "Well Billie must be going soon." Her brow raises. "Am I now?" "Mhmm, so be super speedy baby." She pouts. "Naww, ok mama." Carley grabs Billies hand taking her into her room.
You prayed Bri doesn't come back anytime soon. But you doubt she would. "I have a little collection of your stuff!" Billie smiles looking at the CDs and necklaces, even a tiny little purfume bottle as that's all she'd need. The cutest thing ever is she never wants to waste it. You stand at the door, watching. "Wow you have quite a collection little miss. I'm very proud!" She giggles. Picking up the perfume. "I always do one tiny spray each day before I got to school." Billie looks at you. "She the cutest thing ever." "I know." You say lovingly. "What do you say about a bigger one? Just from me. I can give it to you in a few days."
Carleys already bouncing up and down. "Oh my God! Yayyy, Billie Eilish is giving me her perfume!" The jumping continues making Billie smile and laugh. "It's ok, really you don't have to do that." - "I'm not taking no for an answer miss thing." She puts a finger up. Making your eyes roll playfully, ending with a smile. "I better get going kid. In a few days yeah?" Carley nods, watching Billie bend down to hug her. It was so gentle and sweet. This, was how it was suppose to go. Exactly like this.
"I'm home!" Bri yells, Carley flying into her arms. "Mommy!" She smiles. "Hi my princess." You come down to see her, surprisingly not as drunk as she usually is. Damn it. You kinda wished she was because- "What's that smell." Shit. "What smell?" She sniffs. "It smells like perfume- strong one too. Nothing that you wear either." Your heart rate escalates. "Hey mommy! Guess who I met today!" Fuck fuck fuck! "Who did you meet?" "Billie Eilish!" Her brows furrow. "The singer? Now where on earth did you meet her?" 3. 2. 1. "She came to the house!" Bri raises her head looking at you. "Did she really?" Carley nods. "Well that's awesome darling, why don't you go up to your room and blast her music for me?" Fuck. "Okay mommy!"
Her little legs sprint upstairs, soon after hearing a slight boom of the songs. You go to speak but a hard slap goes straight to your face. "You said you blocked her." Shes backing you up. "I- it wasn't planned we bumped into one another in a coffee shop-" You back up in the process. "Cut her off." "Bri-" Your back hits the wall making you gasp. "I can't ju-" Her hand grips your throat. Your eyes widening. "Cut. Her. Off." Flashbacks flicker making you panic. "B-bri!" Her grip tightens. "I don't want that stupid bitch in here again, especially while I'm not here." Your eyes water from the impact her hand is causing. "Understand me?" You nod as best as you could. "Good. Dinner." And that was the last thing she uttered, heading upstairs. You fall to your knees catching your breath.
Knowing that's going to leave a nasty bruise at how harsh she was gripping. You try to calm yourself down, you had to keep going like you were fine. But it was getting harder and harder as days go on.
A few days go by, and you had completely ghosted Billie. You were more scared than you were before, that whole incident the other night was mortifying. So you sadly just listened. The bruise was still there not as evident but noticeable. You had put makeup on it to make it even more invisible. Then something you dreaded happened. There was a knock on the door and you go to open it, ofcourse it was Billie...
"What's happening? I texted you but you-" Her eyes wander. Your brows furrow as to why. Her hand goes to touch your neck. "Is that a bruise?" Fuck, water had splashed when you were doing the dishes. "Oh uh- just burned myself? With a straightener." Curse words fly in your brain, you both knew how horrible of a lie that was. "Did someone do this to you?" Your head shakes quickly. "No i-" But there was no point I finishing, Bri was right behind you. "You must be Billie." She looks at her. "Yes! You must be Y/n's girlfriend." Billie sticks her hand out, only for it to stay there.
"Can we help you." Your gaze lowers, hating every second of this moment. "Uh, I was just coming by to drop a few things off for Carley." And in the nic of time there she was rushing to the door. "Billie!" Bris teeth grind together. You Look out the corner of your eye, cringing. "Hey I, got a wholeeeee box load of stuff for you." She gasps, looking at all the different merch items. "Billie, you really didn't have to." She gives you a smile. Knowing things are strange right now. "I'll just head off, nice meeting you." The door was slammed. Making Billies head turn. She was about to leave, but she overhears.
"I thought I told you to cut her off." You look at Carley. "Go to your room baby." Her features change. She looked scared, the tone is Bris voice not only frightening you but your daughter. That's the last thing you wanted. Now you were angry. As she runs away you look at Bri. "Cut that out." She looked appalled. "The fuck did you just say?" You look at her. Little did you know this most definitely wouldn't go further. "You promised you'd never act that way infront of her." Bri scoffs. "Yeah well guess what I did. Wanna circle back to what you just said to me?" "Yeah. I told you to quit being a piece of shit, especially infront of our daughter."
This was no slap. Far from it. Her fist meets smack dab in the middle of your face. You tumble back at the impact, tripping and landing on your ass. Smacking your head hard, on a wall. You grab your face, but everything was happening fast. The door swung open. A cry was to be heard. Your mind races to that trying to get up but your being pushed back down. Now you're the one in tears. You knew those cries, and you needed to get to them. Everything blurs, your head spinning in the process. You hear a muffled voice saying something along the lines of 'you useless cunt'
But you couldn't care less, all you were thinking about was Carley. Your vision clears a bit, seeing her run over to you and hide behind you. You grip her hand, trying your hardest to stay as conscious as possible. When more smacks are heard you hide your face, hiding hers with it. You soon feel hands grabbing at you. But you were too scared to even fight it. Grabbing Carely in your arms. But it wasn't Bri who grabbed you. You were half way out the door when you realized it was Billie. She hadn't left. No words were spoken, cries from your daughter and swearing clouded your ears.
You look into Billies eyes feeling hopeless. And that's all before things went black.
Your head stirs, eyes opening a tad. You were on some couch. Your head pounded as you sit up slightly. Where were you.. But it clicks when you hear a female voice. Everything floods back. "Where is she?" You say frantically. Billie pushes you back gently. "Shes fine, she's ok. She's downstairs playing with shark." You relax slightly. But that doesn't last long as tears spill out. She brings you into her arms, holding you securely. "It's ok, you're away. You're here. You're safe." You violently shake as things become intense. Her hand soothes your back as you sink further into her touch, her warmth. This stayed that way for a good minute. Before you calm down just a bit.
"Why didn't you try telling me?" Her thumb swipes under your eye. "It's not that easy.. She was the only one I was concerned over." Billies eyes drop with sadness. "You were miserable babe. You needed to think about yourself too." "She was all that was good in my life." You say, tears silently dropping. "I didn't want to screw anything up." The tears start to resurface. "Hey hey, you didn't you're the best mother ever. She's so loved by you, even if that stupid bitch didn't. She knows she's loved. You've done great." It made you want to sob more. Not because you were hurt by her words.
The complete opposite. You hadn't heard such kind things in a very long time. "I'm here. I want to be in your life again, help you. Help raise her even. I miss you and I've never stopped loving you." Her confession makes your tears turn to happy ones. You leap forward and kiss her sweetly. "I've never stopped loving you either." Your foreheads touch, savoring this beautiful moment. "Mama?" You then hear Carleys small voice. You turn your head, wiping your tears. "Hi baby." You smile. "You're ok mama, you can cry." Your face softened, gesturing for her to come over. "You know I love you yeah?"
She nods kissing your cheek. "I don't like mommy no more. She hurt you." She hugs you tight. "I just wanted to protect you." Carley moves to stand infront of you. Her little hands on either side of your face. "You did mama." You kiss her bringing her in close. "Besides, Billie said she can be like my new mommy!" You laugh a little. "You said that?" She shrugs. "More or less." Billie winks at carley, making her grin.
Things were exactly how they were always suppose to be. You lived with Billie now, Carley having a bigger room. More to choose from. Your job was fully sorted, much to the help of your beautiful girlfriend. You felt such love from Billie. She never let you cook unless you really wanted to. Nights were always warm, sleeping beside you. Kisses for days, never ending. She's incredibly good with Carley too, which wasn't surprising. You were currently watching TV, Billie and her sitting on the floor. But let's face it, you weren't actually watching TV, how could you when the two people you adored were being so cute infront of you. "Nooo!" Billie says in the silliest way, playing whatever it was with her. This was the happy ending you wanted.
Although. So much was to be uncovered. Things left unspoken. The drama was surely not over yet.
- uhm so.. might be a new series ? This was unplanned but my brains BURNING with ideas.
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illiterateaffairs · 2 months ago
Text
a simple favor | stiles x reader
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masterlist | next
pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)
word count: 7,120
warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)
summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.
author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)
“Hi!”
“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance. 
He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you. 
And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world. 
“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car. 
Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”
“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”
Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”
“I need your help with a spell.”
“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”
“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”
Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game. 
Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go. 
You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished. 
From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off. 
He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family. 
That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.
“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.
You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”
Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”
“My house.” 
“You’re taking me to your lair?”
“Ha ha.”
“I don’t even know where you live.” 
“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.” 
“You live in the woods?”
“Just drive.”
Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live. 
From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust. 
But he thinks he can survive one evening with you. 
The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio. 
You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station. 
Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”
“Turn left at the stop sign.”
“Right.”
You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”
Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”
You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”
“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”
“Because you’re a human.”
“Okay…?”
“And I need your blood.”
“Oh great.”
“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.” 
“And why do you need that?”
“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”
Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees. 
“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”
“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep. 
Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later. 
“Is your aunt home?”
“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter. 
Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase. 
“Um, where are we going exactly?”
“My room,” You call without turning around.
“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”
“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”
Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.
No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.
“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot. 
Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”
“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”
“Something like that.”
You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.
Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”
You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”
“But why me?”
“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”
Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”
You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”
“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”
“You should be.”
“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”
“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”
“Why? What happened to your parents?”
You swallow, “You’re nosy.”
“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”
“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”
“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”
You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face. 
You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”
Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”
I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients. 
“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”
I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”
I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit. 
Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”
Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”
You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”
“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”
You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”
Stiles rolls his eyes this time.
I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”
“I’d kind of like to see-”
“Reminder, I can kill you.”
“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”
“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.
“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”
“Okay, just stab me already.”
You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is. 
“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment. 
“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”
“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”
“As long as I can remember.”
“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”
“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.” 
“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?” 
“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”
“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming. 
“When did you…” Stiles whispers.
I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”
Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?
“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.
“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks. 
“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood. 
Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound. 
“There, good as new.” 
You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently. 
“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”
Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”
I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together. 
Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”
“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”
Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”
I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed. 
When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it. 
“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.
You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”
Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck. 
He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”
You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”
He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”
You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”
“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”
You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”
Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”
You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”
Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell. 
As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin. 
“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”
You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”
Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”
I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”
Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”
You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”
Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”
You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”
“I have a few more questions.”
“Haven’t I told you enough?”
“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”
“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”
“By…telling Scott…”
You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”
“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?” 
You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”
“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”
“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”
“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”
“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.” 
Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”
I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”
Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario. 
“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.
Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”
“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”
“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”
“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”
“Did you tell him where you were from?”
“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”
Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”
“Yup.”
“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?” 
You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”
Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”
“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”
“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”
You make a face but don’t argue with him.
Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”
Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. 
“Thanks…”
The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.
“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”
Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”
“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”
Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”
“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”
“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?” 
I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”
Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”
“No, I just meant you could do better.”
Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”
You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”
“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”
“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”
“What…What do you mean?”
“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”
“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”
“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”
“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”
You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”
Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”
“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.” 
Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”
“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”
“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”
“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”
Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”
“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”
Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”
You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”
You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.
Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber. 
Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you. 
It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock. 
Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.
You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.” 
Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.
For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously. 
You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”
Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again. 
This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist. 
As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.
“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.
He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.
“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”
“To make out with a hot person?”
“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”
“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.” 
You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.
“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”
Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out. 
“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”
The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.
You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”
“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.
“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.
“You’d really want to do this too?”
“Yes-”
“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”
“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”
“And you want to be with me? Why?”
“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”
Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation. 
“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement. 
“I’m in if you’re in.”
“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”
You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”
Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.
After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”
“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”
Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”
He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.
“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”
Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”
You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”
Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”
You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed. 
Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay. 
You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling. 
You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”
You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.
“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”
You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”
“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”
“I know you did.”
Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”
“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”
He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”
You roll your eyes, “Yes.”
“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”
“Stiles!”
“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”
He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”
“This was better.” 
He turns to you again in surprise. 
“You were better.”
Stiles stutters, “R-really?”
You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”
Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again. 
“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can’t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”
That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for. 
But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.
“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep. 
“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath. 
He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on. 
You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again. 
As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away. 
“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”
Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”
You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back. 
“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”
Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”
You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”
He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”
You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time. 
Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.
“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.
With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had. 
“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door. 
Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again. 
It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.
Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.
author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!
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nevernonline · 1 year ago
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✧.* must love dogs; csc one shot.
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✧.* synopsis: after a breakup (three years ago) your friend finally attempts to get you back on the saddle by creating you a dating profile despite your protesting, hooking you up on dates with some of the eligible bachelors of their choice, none of which impressed you. until one day you met the boy with the dog.
part of my seventeen movie series.
paring: seungcheol x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)
genre/s: fluff, strangers2lovers
warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes.
word count: 3.7k
note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. I hope you enjoy my lil must love dogs inspired fic, its one of my fav movies!! xo.
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“So how was bachelor number five?” 
With a roll of your eyes, you gazed at your friend Seungkwan resting his feet on top of your shared glass coffee table, ticking the tip of the city guide book and magazines rested on top. 
“Boring. He was nice or whatever, good looking, but he wouldn’t shut up about league of legends and his job. Other than that he asked me no questions about myself or what I do. A failure as most would call it.” 
“So I take it you wouldn’t want to go out with him again?” 
“God, whatever gave you that impression? I thought you could tell we were headed for marriage?” 
“Hey. I’m doing you a very nice thing, you don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.” 
“Look, I know. But just because Jun is getting married and I still haven’t moved on doesn’t mean I need to be dating all of the sudden.” 
The boy patted the seat next to him. Scooching over from his spot, making room for you on the couch. 
“ It’s been nearly three years since you ended it with him. At least fuck someone before you dry up.” 
“That’s fucking gross and what vibrators are for.” 
A small scream left your friend's mouth as he covered his ears trying to remove what he had just heard coming out of your mouth. 
“Y/n his wedding is in two months, we need to find someone to bring that’s not me. You don’t want to feel the embarrassment of his pity party and everyone feeling sorry for you.” 
“Why can’t you just be my date?” 
“Too obvious. Plus your whole family will be there, just do it or you know your parents will be in your case again. This ‘ secret man’ you’ve been seeing doesn’t exist and I think your Mom is starting to catch on.” 
He was right. Your parents come from a high status, as do your ex boyfriends, they were the reason you both had met and became friends in the first place. But, when your relationship ended you lied to them, it was working well until you got a call from your very upset mother telling you Jun showed up to your house with his family and a girl on his arm that wasn’t you. 
“Okay, then why can’t I choose my own date?” 
“The men you chose to quote on quote date are literally disturbing, I’m sorry but it’s the truth. Like that one dude you brought here last time? Whatever the fuck his name was literally was wearing a necklace vial of his own blood and claimed drinking your own urine and reusing water is the only way we can save the planet.” 
“Okay, but he was nice.” 
“He literally didn’t flush the toilet because he only went number one. That’s fucked, no.” 
“Can I at least, like at the very least have some approval over the men you match me with then?” 
“Maybe.” 
“ Kwanie, please. Come on, don’t make me use the what goes around card, it’s my turn” 
“No, it's absolutely my turn.” 
“Not true, you wasted it two months ago when I had to bail you out of that strange house party orgy thing by saying your dog died and coming in crying to a bunch of naked strangers. You owe me.” 
“Valid.” 
“How did you not realize what that party was anyway?” 
“This is not currently about my life failures, but yours my beautiful friend.” 
Laughing at Seungkwan's major mishap, you forgot to greet your dog, Lucky. She was waiting and crying at your feet, finally waking up from her sweet slumber to greet you. 
“Hello my baby, do we have to go outside?” 
“She went for a walk this afternoon, but after her dinner she crashed so she probably wants a walk. I can go if you want to change or shower.” 
“No it’s alright, I can take her, you're already in your pj’s and after my date I need a distress, want anything from the mart?” 
“Ice cream?” 
With a small nod you jumped up, taking the small curly creature in your arms and grabbing her harness before heading back outside into the warm spring air. 
Ten minutes into your evening stroll, you decided to sit on the green wooden bench overlooking the water, the same bench your grandmother always spoke about when you asked her the same story about how she and your grandfather got engaged. The gold plaque with their names rubbing off sitting behind your back. 
Suddenly you heard a man yelling from behind you, running through the green grass lit up with fluorescent lights. 
“Hey, Kkuma, no come back.” 
A small white dog came up behind Lucky sniffing her and starting to play, you noticed her cute hairclip and ran your hands through her fur. 
“God, I’m sorry. She normally doesn’t run off like that.” 
“It’s okay my dog lov-“ 
As you turned around to look into the round eyes of the owner, you were stunned with how beautiful he was. 
His dark hair pushed under a cap, a white t-shirt too big for his frame sitting beautifully in his toned shoulders, and his red sweatpants matching his shoes. 
The unfamiliar man was bending down now petting your precious pet and his own at the same time talking to them in sweet baby voices. 
“This is Kkuma by the way, and you are?” 
“Y/N” 
“Hi y/n, you’re so cute, you and kkuma can be best friends if your mom lets you.”
You let out a roaring laugh realizing he thought you had introduced your pet and not yourself.
“Oh sorry, did I say something wrong?”
“No, no. It’s just I’m y/n this is Lucky sorry my fault.” 
“Oh god, cool. Sorry Lucky, I’m Seungcheol. You can call me Cheol and this is Kkuma.” 
“Nice to meet you Cheol and Kkuma.” 
“You too. Look I know I just met you and all, but I’m new to the area. I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee and let the girls hangout sometime?” 
“Oh. Yeah, of course. Let me give you my number.” 
Seungcheol handed you his cell phone with a new contact page pulled up giving you full reign to type your name and number into his list. 
Handing the device back to him your fingers touched, creating an electric shock, to not like you to believe in signs, but for some reason it felt like the universe trying to tell you something. 
“Thank you, I’ve actually got to get going, but if you're free tomorrow would you want to grab coffee and hangout at the dog park?” 
“Yeah, totally. Just text me a time, we can just meet here. What kind of coffee do you drink? There’s a good spot by my apartment. I can just pick it up for us.” 
“Wow, that’s so nice of you. Just a black americano is cool or a cold brew whichever.”
“No fun I see.”
“How would you know that? Just because I don’t like sugary drinks doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.” 
“I don’t know, we will see.” 
“We will. I’ll catch you tomorrow girls.” 
“Nice to meet you.” 
“You too!” 
Seungcheol left the same way he came running through the grass with Kkuma on his heels, following him all the way back to their home. 
Strolling back down the pathway back to your apartment, you could help but feel butterflies in your stomach, you knew nothing about the man you just met other than his name and his cute dog, but there was a lot of unknown. 
Smiling like a Cheshire Cat, you unlocked the front door and watched Lucky sprint back into Seungkwan lounging on the couch, eating for the ice cream you had forgotten. 
“Where’s the snacks? Also why are you smiling like an idiot you’re freaking me out.” 
“We met a guy with his dog, a very cute guy might I add, who actually asked for my number and wants to get coffee tomorrow.” 
“ What the fuck, it’s late tell me he doesn’t live in the park?” 
“No he said he just moved to the area, he was clearly not a park dweller he had keys, and smelt amazing actually.”
“Smelling strangers? A new low even for you”
“Oh my god, fuck off.” 
Seungkwan pulled his phone out and opened various social media apps preparing himself for best friend stalking duties. 
“What’s his name?”
“Seungcheol, not sure about his last name, but he goes by Cheol and his dog was Kkuma.” 
“Great.. okay, found him I assume?”
“What the fuck, how? Let me see.”
“Eager aren’t we?”
“Fuck off?” 
Grabbing Seungkwan's phone from his grip, you scroll quickly through the new faces' social media.
“Yeah, it’s him.” 
“Okay, let me see. Wait, he's actually hot AND seems to have his own business?” 
“Oh my god.”
“Here, look” 
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After the next few hours, you and your friend stumble on into your separate rooms preparing yourself for slumber, which never seems to reach you and before you know it dawn is creeping its way through your curtains, and your backup preparing yourself for a day with you and Lucky's new friends. 
Something about your energy was excitable and nearing frantic, you could wait to step outside into the fresh air with your pocket sized princess at your side, but it was still early. 
You had decided on pampering yourself for this morning, finding the need to make yourself up, you spread on your skin care with glee, drew perfect lines of eyeliner and strained your hair, pulling it up into a nice tight ponytail the hair tie matching the taupe tone of your sweat suit perfectly.  Before you knew it it was 9:45 a perfect time for you and Lucky to step outside the door. 
Placing her in her tote bag, you stepped inside of your favorite coffee shop, the light pink walls covered in photos and paintings, the smell of the espresso seemed sweeter. 
“Morning, y/n you look beautiful today. Would you like the usual?”
“Thank you, for me, yes. But can I also get a large americano, just black and he didn’t tell me iced or hot, so iced is good I think? Or maybe hot with a cup of ice on the side? If that’s okay?” 
“He? Did you finally start dating someone?” 
“Oh no, just a friend of mine. Seungkwan told you shit about me didn’t he?” 
“Yes. Sorry.”  
“No worries, can I actually get two of the plain croissants and two of the flower dog cookies too?” 
“No problem, it’ll be right out.” 
“Thank you.” 
Taking a seat next to the pick up counter you scrolled through the instagram of the boy you’re meant to be meeting, telling yourself it’s just to remember his face, but really it was to get a peek into what else he’s into or if he was single. 
“Y/N” 
“Oh shit, sorry. Thank you guys, see you tomorrow.” 
Picking up the paper coffee carrier and pastry bag, you waved goodbye to the baristas and briskly walked back to the bench you were at yesterday, your bench, spotting the back of Seungcheol’s head watching the water with his dog. 
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” 
“Oh, no problem. I just got here.” 
Placing your items down on the bench, you freed her bag and greeted Kkuma alongside her before taking your seat. 
“Here’s your coffee, I wasn’t sure if you wanted hot or iced so I got you a cup of ice too just in case, a croissant, and a little treat for your girl too.” 
“Wow thank you so much, hot is fine actually. How are you?” 
“Good, nervous. I mean it’s not every day you meet a stranger for coffee.” 
Seungcheol laughed, tipping his head back slightly before taking a bite of his pastry. 
“Sorry. I know it’s weird, you just seemed like someone I wanted to get to know, and Kkuma liked you so I figured you’re good people.” 
“Well, thank you. You too. Lucky generally does not like men other than my friend Seungkwan, my dad, and my ex-boyfriend so consider yourself special.”
“I do.”
“So what brought you to this neighborhood? Work, a relationship?”
“No relationship, but actually my business partner is from here. We decided to open our warehouse and stuff here because it’s much better than doing it in the city. We have a spirit company and we’re planning on opening a brewery and bar, so that’s why I’ve been working late nights. I guess it served me well, I made a friend on my first day.”
“You’ve only been here for a full day? What the hell? You already know the best spot in town. What kind of stuff do you guys make?”
“Beer and soju mainly, we’ve been working on it for five years now and are finally at a spot to open up and start selling it to people, which is cool. But what about you? What do you do?” 
“I’m a medical student actually, my parents are both doctors, I used to really want to be one too, but I don’t know, I don’t really have the same passion for it as I used to.”
“Well what would you do if you had the choice?”
“I always wanted to design stuff for dogs, start a rescue, anything like that. I got so happy seeing Kkuma as an accessory girl.”
“Yeah, she’s very stylish. I think you should go for it, you know? Why waste time becoming something for someone else and risk being unhappy just for their sake?”
“Honestly I wouldn’t even know how to start a business on my own, let alone tell my parents.”
“Hey, I didn’t either and look where it’s gotten me.”
You turned back to the water, staring into the calm blue waters, trying not to go into your own head. 
“You’re oddly inspiring, I’ll give you that much.”
“Thank you, y/n. You’re oddly sassy, I’ll give you that.”
“Shut up, I’m not.”
“You already tried to clock me by saying I’m no fun because I drink black coffee and you said oddly inspiring like a back handed compliment. You definitely are, but I like it. 
“Good.”
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You had continued your twice weekly hangouts with Kkuma and her dad for two weeks now, getting excited whenever the days roll around to see the two of them again, but you haven’t hung out once without them around, which made you wonder if your friendship or crush rather on this boy was only due to your dogs being friends themselves. 
Seungkwan tried setting you up on more and more dates with more and more duds, he was starting to lose hope himself, knowing that the one person he could set you up with was Seungcheol but he didn’t want to overstep. 
Strolling home from another failed connection, you decide to stop and have a beer before going home to give the dirty details to Seungkwan about who you had just met. 
Pulling open the tab of one of your drinks from your six pack, you took a deep breath and sat down, feeling your eyes welling up with tears. 
Another can opened as you went to take the first sip. A hand comes on your shoulders, whispering a boo in your ears. 
“What the fuck!” 
Jumping up from your seat the hand on your shoulder belonged to Seungcheol, the look in his eyes went from happy to concerned as he saw the small streaks of tears on your cheeks, you top now dribbled with spots of beer. 
“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Want a beer?”
“Sure, thanks. I’m sorry I scared you, I thought you heard me behind you.”
“It’s alright, I was in my own world anyway. You look nice, where are you headed?”
“Soft opening for my bar actually, I texted you, but I figured you didn’t respond because you were busy.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I would’ve loved to come. I was a bit preoccupied on an awful fucking date.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Worse.”
“Well the good news is you technically didn’t miss it, it doesn’t start for another twenty minutes and you’re dressed very nice. It worked out. 
“Fuck I wish I paid more attention, I could’ve got you some flowers or something.”
“Next time. Will your roommate be alright taking care of Lucky?”
“Yeah of course, he knew I would be out tonight. I’ll text him just to be sure.”
“Cheers to hanging out without our kids?”
“Definitely.”
With that suddenly your awful night and doubts about your relationship with the raven haired boy went out the window. 
“Shall we?”
“We shall.” 
Seungcheol lent his arm out for you to wrap your own around, and you both stayed out that way for a few moments, before discarding your cans and walking the way to his new venture. 
“Here it is, you ready?”
“When you told me you were opening this up I thought you hadn’t even started? But it looks like it’s fully ready.” 
“Ah, well we had planned to wait a bit, but we’re getting too antsy, so here we are.”
“It’s beautiful, holy shit.” 
“Thanks, sit here, I’ll be right back.”
You took a seat on the green leather booth, looking around and taking in the ambiance of the custom lighting and ribbon like wallpaper, when a blonde gentleman walked over sitting down across from you. 
“Y/n? Right?”
“Yeah, nice to meet you…”
“Jeonghan, I’m Cheol’s business partner.”
“Jeonghan, right. Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot.”
“Likewise, you’re so much prettier than Cheol let on actually.”
“Oh?”
Without a chance to interrogate the new face further Seungcheol walked back over to your table, setting down a few bottles of various spirits for you to try, including a couple of cocktails. 
“He didn’t scare you too much did he?”
“Not at all, he was just telling me actually how much prettier I am than you alluded to.”
“Jeonghan, don’t do that to her, come on. You know very well I told you she was pretty, I even showed you her instagram, you agreed.”
“I know, I just wanted to make you tell her yourself and my job is done, see you around y/n.”
“Nice to meet you.”
As Jeonghan left the table you felt your cheeks growing with heat, unsure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Seungcheols friend made him confess he thought you were good looking. 
“Sorry about him, he’s a menace.”
“No need to be sorry, I have my own menace at home and I don’t mean my dog.”
Seungcheol laughed, pouring you a shot of his very own soju to taste, filling with anticipation hoping you enjoy the drink he’s serving you, looking for your approval became a big part of his mind lately. 
Lifting your glass up to his and clinking them together, the liquor poured down the back of your throat filling your mouth with sweetness and warmth. 
“Holy shit.”
“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?”
“No, very good. That’s actually delicious. It’s so clean and fresh.”
“That makes me so happy to hear.”
“I’m happy you’re happy.”
“Okay, beer next. This is just a standard sour, some lime and sea salt, sort of beach vibes.” 
“Sounds amazing, okay.”
Tipping your head back you sipped at the foamy top of the glass, savoring the flavors in your mouth. 
“I hate you so much.”
“What? Why?”
“Seungcheol, you're way too humble when you talk about your business, this shit is amazing. I said I hate you because I’m going to crave this shit and I’ll have to see you all the time.” 
“I thought you liked seeing me all the time?”
“You’re okay.”
“I have to say it’s cool to be here with you without the dogs, not that they distract too much, but they definitely take away giving you my full attention.”
“I mean how could they not, they’re cute as fuck,”
“So are you.”
“Wow, two drinks in Cheol and you’re already calling me cute? I wonder what else you’ll say the more you drink?"
“Technically we’re four drinks in, but I guess I remember the time I spent with you more than you do. Did those drinks on the bench mean nothing to you?”
“Oh fuck, I did forget. I guess technically I’m five drinks in then, catch up, bitch.”
You and Seungcheol spent the rest of the night being greeted by his friends, most of them already assuming who you were, letting you know that Seungcheol talks about you more than you realized. 
Feeling your blood alcohol content rising, you decided to take a step outside and refresh. 
The bell of the door opened up behind you, putting you face to face with his cherry lips once again, watching them light up a hand rolled cigarette to his lips. 
“Doing okay?”
“Yeah, just wanted to step out for a second. Are you good?”
“Very. Want a cig?”
“No, I’m good for now. Ask me again later.” 
“So will there be a later? You’re not ditching me now?”
“I’d never do that.”
“So, y/n does this maybe get me a chance to take you on a date? I’m kind of drunk so I’m feeling oddly bold.” 
“Is this not sort of a date?”
“I was hoping you thought so. Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask.”
“Before we go on our date though, y/n. I have one final question?” 
“Yes?” 
“Do you still think I’m boring?” 
“A little.” 
Seungcheol grabbed your waist and spun you around, causing his perfectly rolled tobacco to fall on the sidewalk. 
Blissfully you were giggling and laughing under the red led lights of his bar. 
“Take it back.” 
“Nope.” 
“Please.” 
You looked into his puppy dog eyes and did something out of your comfort zone. Wrapped your hands loosely around his neck, placing a deepened kiss onto his lips. 
His mouth tasted of cigarettes and salt with a hint of vanilla from the lip balm he always had on him. 
“Is that a good ‘sorry I called you boring’ kiss?” 
“It’ll do for now.” 
“Good. They’ll be more where that came from.” 
“Promise?” 
“Pinky promise.” 
You and Seungcheol unwrap from each other, finding Jeonghan standing and  cheering in the window watching the two of you. 
“Can’t believe I got a hot date and a sister for Kkuma all in one.” 
“You lucky dog.” 
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year ago
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Second Part to Sleepwalking Eddie
Eddie still had his doubts when it came to him sleepwalking. So, Steve did what anyone else would do in his situation. He bought a video camera. Of course, it was right after he bought it that the sleepwalking seemed to stop for a while. Was Eddie fucking with him or was it his kind of luck that this had happened?
Because of the whole sleepwalking naked incident, Steve made sure word got around for everyone to call first before coming over. Eddie had a tendency to take naps after he ate lunch, and it was one of those days. It was also the day when Dustin decided that Steve was just bullshitting them and popped in unannounced. Steve had groaned when he opened his front door to find a grinning Dustin.
"No! You can't come in," Steve hissed. "Eddie is napping."
"So? I promise not to wake him," Dustin said and made his way through the door. "Unless. . .is he really napping, or did you get so annoyed by his presence that you finally killed him? After everything we did to save him. Damn, Steve."
"No, you shithead. I did not kill your precious dungeon master," Steve said, rolling his eyes and closing the door. "I'm gonna call Hop and tell him you broke into my house, though . . . And I actually like having Eddie around, for your information."
"See, I told you that you two would be great friends," Dustin said with his back to him.
Steve rolled his eyes as he mouthed the words with Dustin. He knew he would say something like that. He followed Dustin into the living room and watched him as he flopped onto the couch, propping up his feet onto the coffee table.
"Hey! Feet off the table! God. Were you born in a barn?" Steve asked.
"Boy, wouldn't that just embarrass the hell out of you if that were true?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly, Eddie walked into the room, his eyes closed slightly as he wore nothing but his boxers and one sock.
"Shit," Steve cursed and grabbed Dustin before he went to greet him. "Don't wake him."
"Why?" Dustin asked with wide eyes. "Oh my God! He's cursed, isn't he?"
"What? No. No! Wayne told me you're not supposed to wake a sleepwalker," Steve said.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Eddie grabbed the blanket and wrapped it completely around Dustin. He pulled him to the couch and sat down. He laid Dustin down in his his arms and began to rock him.
"Steve? Steve?! What is he doing?" Dustin asked.
"I think he's rocking you to sleep, man," Steve replied.
"Baby sleepy, shh," Eddie mumbled.
"No, baby is NOT sleepy," Dustin said and then muttered, "Baby just had a nap. . . Steve! Don't just stand there! Do something!"
"Hold on!" Steve exclaimed and ran off.
When he came back, he had something black and rectangular in his arms.
"What is - Steve, is that - is that a GODDAMN camera?" Dustin asked.
"Eddie doesn't believe that he sleepwalks. I need proof," Steve said. "Can you just give it a few more minutes?"
"Fine," Dustin grumbled. "But you should know this is absolutely humiliating."
"You owe me. One, for showing up without calling and two, for walking in here like you own the place. All without an apology," Steve said.
"Don't use logic against me, Steve," Dustin replied. "Why does he have a country accent? Maybe this is his real accent, and he hides it."
"Maybe," Steve said as he adjusted the camera on his shoulder.
"Baby hungry?!" Eddie asked.
"Steve? STEVE?!"
"Shit!"
Steve stopped him before he could press Dustin against his chest.
"Baby's been fed, remember?" Steve asked Eddie.
"By bats?!" Eddie asked.
"Uh, yeah, he's been fed by bats," Steve replied. "He's also had a nap. Can I hold him?"
Eddie grumbled before pushing Dustin away from him and walking out of the room. Dustin unwrapped himself from the swaddle.
"Well, that was strange," Dustin said.
"Dustin, if you tell anyone about his sleepwalking or joke about us being your parents ever again, I'll show the tape to Max," Steve said.
"You wouldn't!"
"I would."
"Fine."
"Steve?! Why the fuck am I in the kitchen and why do I have partially eaten block of cheese in my hands? I'm lactose!" Eddie called. "And don't say I was sleepwalking again!"
"Magic! It was magic, okay?!" Steve yelled back, rolling his eyes.
"I fucking knew it!"
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atinylittlepain · 2 years ago
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ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode
oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)
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Big Fan
Joel Miller x actress!reader
Joel Miller masterlist
Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.
warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through
Read part two!
.......................
“Are you–”
“I am.”
“You were in–”
“I was.”
“Well I’ll be damned.” 
“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.
“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.
“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.
“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.
He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.
He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.
“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.
“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.
“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.
“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.
“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?
“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.
“Joel, what the fuck–”
“Ellie–”
“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.
“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.
“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.
“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.
“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.
“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.
“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.
“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.
“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.
“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.
“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”
“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.
“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.
“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 
“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.
“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.
“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.
“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.
“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 
When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What���s not to like, right?
He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.
“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.
“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.
“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.
“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.
“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.
“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.
“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.
“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 
He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.
When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.
“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.
“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.
“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.
“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.
“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.
“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.
“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.
“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.
“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.
“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.
“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.
“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.
“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 
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nevertheless-moving · 11 months ago
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unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.
Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.
and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.
(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)
Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 
Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.
The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?
Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!
Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 
Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—
You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...
What—when did you lose—
I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...
So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.
And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.
When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.
Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.
It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.
Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.
Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??
the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.
Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.
FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?
“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.
Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)
And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.
Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.
Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 
Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.
Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.
Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.
It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 
Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.
What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.
I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.
So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.
Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.
Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—
well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—
and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?
i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”
Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).
But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.
Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.
And then the partners change again, the moment ended.
Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.
Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.
Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.
Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.
needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.
Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.
Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )
Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?
And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?
Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer
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yourlocaljonghoe · 4 months ago
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Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part 2 ]
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Part 1 here.
Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?
Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader
Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive
Wordcount: 22.7k
Warnings: misogyny, mentions of (domestic) violence, injuries, wounds, scars, lots of tears and trauma, allusions to sex but cuts right before the actual act
A/N: all i have to say is... thank fucking god i finally finished it. i struggled so much, and though i still love it im also so sick of this fic haha. there are so many people i want to thank for listening to my rambling, brainstorming and constantly reassuring me: @ghstzzn, @skteezcursed, @xomakara and also to @pali-writes-atiny-bit who beta read the whole thing <33 please don't forget to reblog and like! divider credits as always to @firefly-graphics!
Available here on AO3.
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“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières
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The room around you was quiet, save for the distant ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. As a child, you'd hated this clock. Now, as an adult, you despised it.
Your hands rested in your lap, the delicate lace of the dress you loved so much pooling around you like the last remnants of a life that, albeit short, once felt full of promises. The world outside was moving on, the townsfolk bustling about with their daily tasks, their lives seemingly untouched by the darkness that has taken hold of your heart.
It was funny, hilarious even.
Because despite pretending not to, they all knew, bowed their heads in shame whenever you walked by.
Yet not a single soul had ever cared.
Not until a man was dead, and another one was jailed for his murder.
You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching as the winter sun set over the distant hills, casting a golden glow on the town below. The streets were full of people rushing to finish their errands before nightfall, their faces etched with concern and urgency. None of them spared a glance in the direction of your family's old house, none of them knew the depth of your despair.
Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn't care. 
It wouldn't be the first time.
The sound of the door creaking open drew your attention, but you didn't turn to look. You knew who it was. Your mother had a way of entering a room that felt like an invasion, like an unwelcome breeze slipping through a crack in the window.
“You’re still wearing that costume,” she said, voice low and disapproving. “That man. Hongjoong. You shouldn't-”
“Shouldn't what, Mother? Mourn the only person who ever truly cared for me?”
You kept your forehead pressed against the glass, your breath fogging up a small circle. The lace of your dress felt heavy now, like a shroud. Once, you had worn it with pride. It had been a gift from Hongjoong, back when his friendship, care and love felt like a lifeline. Back when you were still able to see him, touch him, kiss him-
“Why do you still have it on?” she continued, stepping further into the room. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate. “It's time to let go of the past.”
You finally turned to face her, your eyes cold. The sight of her stirred a boiling rage within you, a fury that had been simmering for too long. She looked at you with the same passive face she always had, the face of a woman who turned away from the truths she didn't want to see.
“You let him do this to me,” you said, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “You saw the bruises. You heard the screams. And you did nothing.”
She flinched, just slightly, but quickly regained her composure, fidgeting with her hands. You two had that habit in common. “I did what I thought was best. It was a different time-”
“Different time?” you interrupted, standing up. The lace dress flowed around you, the wind making it flare up. “You watched your daughter suffer, and you did nothing. That's not the past. That's just who you are.”
Your mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but you felt no pity for her. Not anymore. The betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.
“E-everything's changed now,” she said softly. “He's gone. You’re free.”
“Free?!” you echoed, laughing bitterly. “Free to live in this prison of horrible memories? Free to be haunted by the faces of all the people who turned away? Free to watch the man I love be behind bars for a crime I committed?”
Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed so, so much louder now.
“You need to let go,” she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone.
“And you need to face what you did,” you replied, your voice cold and unwavering. “Or, well, didn't do.”
With that, you turned back to the window, shutting her out once more. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills, casting long shadows across the town. 
You wouldn't stay here much longer. You had a plan, and soon, it would be time to carry it out.
But before that, you had to see your entire family again. And tonight, while celebrating another successful harvest season was the perfect opportunity. Even though the bond you once shared was inevitably broken, they were your family, your people, whom you once loved and shared many memories with.
One last time, you wanted to look them right in the eye.
Because afterwards, you vowed to never speak to them again.
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“Miyeon isn't coming today?” you asked as you and your eldest sister set the table. Unfortunately for you, you had to take off Hongjoong’s dress for real this time. To keep the peace, your mother insisted.
“She's with child, Y/N. She can't travel that far. Unlike some of us, she actually fulfills her wifely duties”, she remarked snarky, her voice cold and arrogant. 
You didn't take her usual bait. “What a shame. May she and her unborn be healthy,” you whispered. You were being honest; you truly wanted that. Your middle sister was a good human, and you knew if she and her husband Gikwang wouldn't be away so much traveling the world, she would probably be the only family member you could truly lean on.
Unlike Jisoo, the eldest of you. Your relationship had always been strained, even as children. While you and Miyeon were close, Jisoo had always thought of herself as the best of the best, thus never bothering to actually spend time with you.
And when she married her wealthy husband, Juwon, her arrogance reached a whole new level. When your family's fortune went downhill and you had to marry below your status, her evil, cruel nature fully revealed itself to you. 
While she was always cordial with your parents and sister, in private, you were her personal punching bag.
Your sister's voice snapped you back to the present. “Father's been asking about you,” Jisoo said, arranging the cutlery with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessiveness. “He's worried.”
“Worried?” you echoed, suppressing a bitter laugh. “Funny, he didn't seem worried at all when he handed me over to a monster.”
Jisoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He did what he thought was best for the family. You were meant to secure our future.”
“And look how well that turned out,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “One dead, another imprisoned, and me... here, all alone.”
For a brief moment, you could swear your sister's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing her features. “Y/N...”
But you weren’t in the mood for her half-hearted attempts at empathy. “Save it, Jisoo. You’ve made your feelings clear enough over the years.”
Silence fell over the room as the two of you continued to set the table. God, in moments like these, you really needed Miyeon. Or ‘Always the peacemaker Miyeon’, as you called her. Because now, this large dining room, once a place full of warmth and laughter, felt like a mausoleum, merely filled with the ghosts and memories of happier, easier times. The ornate chandelier above - one of the rare expensive items your family kept after your father lost his job and status -, the polished wooden floors, the family portraits lining the walls - they all seemed to mock the illusion of a perfect family that had long since shattered.
The room fell into an uneasy silence afterwards. Jisoo's meticulously manicured fingers continued moving with precision, setting each fork and knife in its place, perfectly in order.
“Y/N,” Jisoo began again, her voice softer this time. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But we’re still family. We have to… find a way to move forward.”
You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Behind the cold exterior, you saw traces of the sister you once played with in the gardens, the sister that, despite never being interested in the same things as Miyeon and you, tried her best to somewhat bond with you, all for the sake of the family. Before life had driven a wedge between you. Now, all those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, a dream you could barely recall.
“Moving forward,” you repeated, almost to yourself. “It sounds so simple when you say it.”
“It’s not simple,” Jisoo admitted, setting down the last knife and turning to face you fully. “But it’s necessary.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you pause. Your father entered the room, his once robust frame now slightly stooped with age and worry. His eyes, once so full of authority, now seemed to carry the weight of too many regrets.
He looked as miserable as you felt. 
“Y/N,” he said, “It’s good to see you. You've been hiding in your room every time I come back from the fields, I thought… I thought you were ignoring me.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak because yes, you totally were ignoring him. Your relationship with your father had always been complicated, and recent events had only made it worse.. He had been the one to arrange your marriage, to send you into the hands of the man who had caused you so much pain. Forgiveness was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not yet.
Not ever, maybe.
“Father,” you finally managed, your voice tight. “Jisoo and I were just finishing setting the table.”
He glanced at the table, then back at you, his eyes searching your face for something, anything - understanding, perhaps, or absolution. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have the family together again, minus your lovely sister of course.”
Jisoo moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Are you worried? She's in good health, father, the delivery will surely go well.”
You tried so hard not to get upset at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seeing him so worried about Miyeon stung, because when has he ever shown you this kind of emotion?
He nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “Where’s your mother?”
“In the sitting room,” you replied. “She’s... resting.”
The truth was, you had left her standing in the middle of that room after yet another argument, lost in her own guilt and sorrow. But you didn’t have the energy to explain that to your father. 
“I’ll go get her,” he said, turning to leave. “Dinner will be ready soon. Jisoo, get your sons from the garden.”
As he walked away, you felt a pang of something close to pity. For all his faults, your father was still trying to hold the family together, still clinging to the hope that things could return to some semblance of normalcy. But you knew better.
Jisoo’s voice pulled you back to the present. “We should finish up. Mother won’t be happy if everything isn’t perfect.”
You nodded, moving mechanically as you placed the last of the plates on the table. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the tension in the air. This dinner, this facade of normalcy, felt like a cruel joke. But for now, you played along, if only to keep the peace a little while longer.
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Dinner was… a strained affair, to say the least. Your family gathered around the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on faces that had grown distant and unfamiliar. Your mother, seated at the head, looked as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Beside her, your father’s attempts at small talk fell flat, met with monosyllabic responses and uncomfortable silences.
Jisoo, always the dutiful daughter, tried to keep the conversation going. “Father, have you heard from the merchants about the new trade routes? I read that they’re opening up opportunities in the south. It could be good for the farm, we could get more profit and such.”
Your father nodded, seizing on the topic like a lifeline. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with a few of them. They say the prospects are promising. It could be a chance to recover some of what we’ve lost.”
You listened with half an ear, your thoughts all over the place.
You wondered what Hongjoong was doing at this very moment. Was he getting enough food? Was the little prison cell cold? Was he… Was he thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him? All you could think about was the memory of his touch, his voice, once your only source of comfort, now a constant torment. He was the only person who had ever truly understood you, and now he was paying the price for your actions.
“Y/N?” your mother’s voice brought you right back to reality, “Did you hear me?”
You blinked, realizing she had been speaking to you. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”
She sighed, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “I asked if you had any plans now that... now that things have changed.”
You knew what she meant. Now that your husband was dead, now that the scandal had rocked your family to its core. “I haven’t decided yet,” you said carefully. “There’s a lot to think about.”
Your mother nodded, her eyes flickering to your father, then back to you. “Just remember, we’re here for you. No matter what.”
You wanted to believe her, but the years of neglect and indifference had built walls that were impossible to tear down. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.
As the meal wore on, the conversation thankfully turned to more mundane matters - Jisoo’s children, Miyeon’s pregnancy, the upcoming harvest celebration in town. It was as if everyone was trying to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were still a family bound by more than just blood and obligation.
But you knew better. And as you looked around the table at the faces of your family, you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt that, slowly but surely, you were no longer a part of them.
Later on, as everyone else was lingering in the living room already, you turned around to your mother, now all alone with you in the kitchen. “Mother?” you asked.
“What is it?”
“The bread you made… can I have some more of it? It was… very good.”
For a split second, she looked you right in the eye. 
“...Sure, my daughter.”
She knew something was up.
But maybe, maybe, not intervening with your plans was her way of finally apologizing to you.
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The small police station was cold and dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. As you stepped inside, Officer Kim, one of only four officers in your town, looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he spotted you.
“Mrs. Y/N,” he greeted, standing up. “What brings you here at this hour?”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I need to see him,” you said, your voice cold and determined. “I need to face the man who killed my husband before he is executed.”
Officer Kim’s eyes widened slightly, but after composing himself, he nodded. “Of course. Just... be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.”
You forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Officer Kim. I brought this as a token of my appreciation.” You handed him the neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “It’s from my mother. She insisted.”
He accepted the gift with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”
As he led you down the short hallway to the cells, your heart pounded in your chest. The air grew colder the more you entered the building. At one point, it was so cold you felt multiple shivers run down your spine. God, Hongjoong must have frozen to death here. 
You shook your head, taking another deep breath. You had to act, and act well, for your plan to work.
“There he is,” Officer Kim said, nodding toward the second cell. Hongjoong sat on the narrow cot, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. At the sound of your approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours instantly.
You saw the turmoil of emotions behind his eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and so much relief to finally see you again.
“Y/N,” he began, but you cut him off with a glare.
“Don’t you dare say my name,” you hissed, stepping closer to the bars. “You have no right to speak to me.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his emotions. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.
“I needed to see you,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom. “I needed to look into the eyes of the man who murdered my husband.”
Officer Kim shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly uneasy with the tension. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, retreating back to his desk. “But don’t take too long.”
You waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to Hongjoong, your expression softening. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I had to make it convincing.”
Hongjoong reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice trembling. He looked unwell; skinnier than ever before, his eyes sunken in and some torn, old clothes on his shivering frame.
“I have a plan to get you out,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Officer Kim wasn’t coming back just yet. “The bread I gave him... it’s poisoned. Not enough to kill, just enough to make him sick. When he’s down, I’ll get the keys and we’ll leave. Together.”
Hongjoong’s eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “You’re risking everything for me.”
“I’d risk anything for you,” you confirmed, your voice breaking. “You’re the only person who’s ever truly cared for me. I can’t lose you.”
Before he could respond, you heard a muffled groan from the direction of the desk. It seemed as if officer Kim was already feeling the effects of the poison, his footsteps stumbling as he tried to return.
“Now,” you whispered urgently. “We have to go now.”
You hurried back to the entrance of the cells, finding Officer Kim slumped over his desk, groaning in pain. He looked up at you, confusion and betrayal clearly visible in his eyes.
“Mrs. Y/N... what...”
“I’m so, so sorry,” you said softly, reaching for the keys on his belt. “I had to.”
You returned to Hongjoong’s cell, unlocking the door with trembling hands. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped out, his hand immediately finding yours.
“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him toward the back exit. “We don’t have much time.”
“Wait,” he said, and halted his steps. Before you could fully turn around and ask what's wrong, he was all over you. 
His arms wrapped around you in a fierce embrace, pulling you close as if he were afraid you might disappear. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, echoing your own.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
You held onto him just as tightly, savoring the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “We don’t have much time,” you whispered, even though you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. “We have to go.”
Hongjoong nodded, pulling back slightly but keeping a firm grip on your hand. Together, you made your way out, your hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The night was cold and still, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted streets..
“We’ll head to the forest,” you said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “I hid a few resources for us by the tree where we first met. Along with… along with some evidence. Against my former husband.”
“You want… you want to prove my innocence?”
You looked at him, and nodded. “You are innocent after all. And… and I am too.”
Hongjoong’s grip tightened on your hand as the two of you made your way through the dark, narrow streets. “I have someone who can help us,” he whispered urgently. “Someone… powerful.”
You glanced at him. “Who?”
“I can't tell you yet. But trust me, she can definitely help us.”
She?
You nodded, but your mind raced. “...Alright, let’s get to the tree first. We need those resources.”
The two of you moved down the all too familiar path. The town was quiet, the only sound the occasional bark of a distant dog or the rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside you, Hongjoong wasn't as quick as he'd usually be; the weeks of solitary confinement, barely enough food and cold temperatures were clearly evident, yet he did not once fall behind. You reached the tree where you and Hongjoong had first met, a towering oak tree.
The place where it all started.
“There,” you whispered, pointing to a hollow at the base of the tree. Hongjoong knelt down, reaching into the hollow and pulling out a small bag. He opened it, revealing the few precious items you had hidden: food, water, a change of clothes, and most importantly, the evidence that could clear Hongjoong’s name.
“These letters,” you said, pulling out a bundle of crumpled papers. “They’re from my husband. Threatening me, detailing his abuse and plans to ruin our family if I didn’t comply. They’ll prove what kind of man he really was.”
Hongjoong nodded, his eyes hardening. “We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. But first, we need to get out of here.”
“Don't you want to rest?” you asked, clearly worried about his current state.
He just took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. “Later. I have to make sure you're safe first.”
“And you, too,” you added.
“And me too,” he repeated.
So, the two of you set off again, moving through the shadows, your hearts pounding in unison. As you reached the main street, you were determined to make it as far as possible, as quickly as possible. But as you rounded a corner, you came to a sudden halt.
A carriage awaited you, its dark silhouette looming in the moonlight. And standing beside it, his expression grim, was your father.
“Father,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped forward, his eyes locked on yours. “I… had a feeling you’d try to run,” he said quietly. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone.”
You stared at him, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve made many mistakes, Y/N. So, so many mistakes. But letting you suffer in silence was the worst of all. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you. Even if it means I'll never see you again.”
Hongjoong stepped protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you? You never protected her before, why now?”
Your father met his gaze steadily. “Because I love my daughter.”
“You're a liar,” you whispered, hot, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes.
He fiercely shook his head. “I'm a bad person, Y/N. I do not want to earn my forgiveness with this. But I'm not a liar. Never that. Take this carriage and go, wherever you two want to.”
You looked at Hongjoong, then back at your father. “And what about you?”
He shook his head. “I’ll stay behind and livel with the consequences. It’s the least I can do.”
Tears filled your eyes as you stepped forward, embracing your father tightly. It was the first hug you shared in a long, long time, and also the last one. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.
He held you close for a moment, then gently pushed you toward the carriage. “Go. Be safe. And don’t look back.”
You and Hongjoong climbed into the carriage, the soft leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you had just left. As the carriage began to move, you looked out the window, watching your father’s figure grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared into the night.
The carriage rattled along the narrow, winding road, the wheels clattering over the uneven stones. The night was cold, the air crisp with the promise of frost. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and Hongjoong, sharing the warmth as best you could. The lantern hanging from the carriage’s front swayed with each bump, casting erratic shadows that danced across the landscape.
The path ahead was long and treacherous, leading through dense forests and over rocky hills. Every so often, the carriage would hit a particularly deep rut, jolting you both almost freaking the horse out numerous times.
Luckily for you, Hongjoong was some kind of animal whisperer and managed to calm the horse pretty quickly each time.
As the hours passed, the moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light filtering through the bare branches of the trees. The forest around you was alive with nocturnal sounds - the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a fox. You kept a wary eye on the shadows, aware that danger could lurk in the darkness.
Dawn was beginning to break when the carriage crested a hill, revealing a panoramic view of the valley below. The first light of day painted the landscape in soft hues of pink and gold, the rolling hills stretching out like a patchwork quilt. It was a moment of fleeting beauty, a reminder of the world beyond your troubles.
“It's so pretty here,” you whispered. Hongjoong hummed in return, his gaze slowly becoming more and more unfocused.
He was tired, and in desperate need for some rest.
“Let me drive for a while,” you said softly, touching Hongjoong's arm. “You need to rest.”
Hongjoong shook his head, though his exhaustion was evident. “I’ll rest later. We need to put as much distance between us and the town as possible.”
“Please,” you insisted, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. Let me take over until we find an inn.”
He hesitated, then finally nodded, knowing you were right. The carriage came to a halt, and you swapped places. As you took the reins, Hongjoong settled into the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. His eyes closed almost immediately, the tension in his body easing as he finally allowed himself to rest a little.
You guided the carriage along the winding road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves a steady, comforting beat. The landscape around you began to change as the sun climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to open fields and distant mountains. 
Hours passed, and you kept a vigilant eye on the road ahead. Occasionally, you would glance back at Hongjoong, who slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. The evidence you had gathered against your husband lay safely tucked away, a lifeline that could clear Hongjoong’s name and secure your future together.
As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the fields, you spotted a small village nestled at the base of the mountains. It was far enough from your town that you felt safe enough to stop for a while. The village appeared peaceful and quiet, only a few people out on the street at this hour.
You gently shook Hongjoong awake as the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the village. He stirred, blinking groggily. “Where are we?”
“A village,” you replied, helping him down from the carriage. “We can rest here for the night.”
He nodded, too tired to argue. The two of you made your way to the inn, a modest building with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows. 
The inn's common room was a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of mugs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, greeted you as you approached the counter.
“Good evening, dear,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. “What can I do for you?”
“We need a room for the night,” you replied, glancing back at Hongjoong, who was leaning heavily against the wall, fighting to stay awake.
The older woman nodded, her eyes flickering to Hongjoong before returning to you. "Of course, dear. We have one room available, but it only has one bed. I hope… that’s alright?”
Her eyes flickered towards your hand. There was no ring on it and so, if you took that single bed room, it would be quiet… frivolous.
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You yearned to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort, but after everything that happened, the thoughts of sleeping close to someone terrified you. And, most important in this current situation; you weren’t married yet. 
Hongjoong, sensing your hesitation, stepped forward. “That will be fine,” he said softly, tired eyes settling upon your figure. “Thank you.”
It seemed you were the only one caring about appearances.
The innkeeper's smile widened, and she quickly handed you a key. “Room 3, just up the stairs. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”
You nodded, taking the key with trembling hands. “Thank you,” you managed.
You carefully led Hongjoong up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. It seemed that with your arrival, the sound of previous laughter had fully died down. Or maybe the ringing in your ears was too loud for you to notice any other noises. When you reached the door to your room, you hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open.
The room was small but cozy, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a small window that offered a view of the village below. The bed was covered with a thick, quilted blanket, and a simple wooden chair sat in the corner.
Hongjoong sank onto the bed with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. You stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.
“Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice gentle. “You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”
You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, you need to rest properly. We'll share the bed. It’s... it’s fine.”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and gratitude. “Are you sure?”
You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yes. We'll manage. I trust you.”
And you did. What you did not trust though were your inner demons.
Hongjoong fully collapsed onto the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Rest now,” you whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I'll go ahead and fetch us something to eat, okay?”
He nodded, his eyes already closing. You stayed by his side for a few minutes, then quietly left the room to look for food you both desperately needed.
After finding some bread, cheese, and a couple of apples in the inn's small kitchen, you returned to the room. The scent of the simple meal filled the space, mingling with the comforting warmth of the inn. Hongjoong stirred as you entered, his eyes slowly opening.
“Food,” you announced with a soft smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing him a piece of bread. “It's not much, but it's something.”
He took the bread with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a bite. “This is perfect.”
You both ate in silence for a while. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it felt like a feast after eating little to nothing the past few days. Hongjoong's presence, his gentle smile, and the way he looked at you with such trust and affection made the food taste even better.
As you carefully cut and shared the apples with him, your fingers occasionally brushed against his, each touch sending a small shiver down your spine. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. You found yourself laughing softly at the way Hongjoong tried to juggle the uncut apples, almost dropping them.
“You're hopeless,” you teased, giggling as he finally managed to catch them.
He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I'm just a man hopelessly in love,” he corrected, his tone playful yet sincere.
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound that you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of lightness with him.
As the meal came to an end, you both settled back on the bed, the small space forcing you to be close. Hongjoong's warmth radiated against your side, his arm brushing against yours. Despite the comfort of his presence, your body immediately tensed.
The last time a man laid next to you, he'd done unspeakable things to you. 
But this… this was Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong.
You trusted him.
Yet at the same time, you were still terrified.
You tried to focus on his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, but your heart raced, and your skin prickled with unease. You felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach, your muscles tightening involuntarily.
You couldn't breathe.
Hongjoong sensed your discomfort, his hand gently covering yours. “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm here.”
You nodded, but his reassurance did little to calm the storm inside you. Your mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of his body was both a comfort and a reminder of all you had endured. You wanted to relax, to let go and feel safe, but your body wouldn't allow it.
Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, each beat drowning out every other sound. Your hands trembled, and you clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ground yourself.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “Just breathe with me.”
“I can't,” you sobbed.
“Shhh. Just close your eyes.”
You did as he said, focusing on his voice, his warmth. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his. The tension in your muscles began to ease, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind.
Hongjoong's hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “You're safe,” he whispered, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “I won't let anything happen to you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, finding strength in his presence. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest grounding you. “We'll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”
“You know,” you slowly began, carefully turning around. Now, face to face with him, you carefully lifted your fingers and started tracing husband features; his acquainted eyebrows, over husband prominent cheekbones to his soft, plush lips, where you remained a little longer.
“I don't think I'd be alive without you, Kim Hongjoong. For that… for you, coming into my life and selflessly saving me, I am beyond thankful. But at the same time… at the same time, I can't help but think that if you'd never met me… you could still live your normal life. Sometimes… it gets all too much.”
You held his gaze, your fingers repeating your previous actions of lightly tracing the curve of his lips. “You’ve given me so much, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”
His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You deserve everything, Y/N. More than I could ever give.”
The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” you said, your voice breaking. “You've been my rock, my savior. I... I don't know if I can ever repay you.”
Hongjoong's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tension there. “You don't need to repay me. Just being with you is enough. Seeing you smile, hearing your laughter... that's all I need for the rest of my life.”
You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his touch. His fingers were warm and strong, yet so gentle. It was a stark contrast to the harshness you had known before. 
“You shine so bright, Joongie. Like the sun. My sun.”
He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “And you will shine like that too again. Soon,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race, but it wasn't fear this time. It was something else, something deeper.
Something only Kim Hongjoong could make you feel.
You opened your eyes, finding his face so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I'm scared. Not of you, but of losing you. Of the future. Of what might happen if they find us.”
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “We won't let that happen. We're stronger together. They won't find us. Once we're in the capital, I’ll handle everything, okay?”
His words gave you strength, and you found yourself leaning into him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow and gentle, a silent promise of your love and devotion towards each other. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you close as your lips moved together, exploring and savoring each other.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads still touching. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with pure, raw emotion.
Hongjoong's eyes softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice just as tender. “More than words can say.”
You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. In his embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. The fear and anxiety that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being.
“Let’s rest now,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Together,” you echoed, your voice steady.
He gently guided you down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of you. His arms remained around you, holding you close as you settled into the warmth of his embrace. 
As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.
“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your heart full. 
That night, you finally had a good, peaceful sleep.
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“How long until we arrive at the capital?”
Hongjoong was leaning against the carriage window, his eyes scanning the horizon. A storm would be coming soon, he said.
“Two more days, if we keep this pace,” he replied, turning to face you. “The storm may slow us down a bit.”
You nodded. The journey had been long and exhausting, the constant tension of being on the run making you an anxious mess. But with Hongjoong by your side, you felt a strength you had never known before.
The carriage jostled along the uneven road, the sounds of the wheels clattering against the stones a constant reminder of the distance still left to travel. You glanced at Hongjoong, his face etched with determination despite the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes.
“We’ll make it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. “We have to.”
He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We will,” he affirmed, his voice steady. “And once we’re there, we’ll find a way to solve all this mess. To start over.”
You leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence. 
You traveled through several more small villages, their inhabitants just beginning to stir. Farmers led their livestock out to pasture, and shopkeepers opened their doors, the smell of fresh bread and morning fires wafting through the air. The sight of these simple, everyday routines filled you with a strange sense of peace, a reminder that life went on, and that, maybe in the future, your life may look like this too.
Simple yet happy and fulfilling.
And then, you arrived. 
You gasped as the large gates of the city appeared in front of you.
The capital was a sprawling maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity. Everything here was just so much larger, louder and generally more impressive, a stark contrast to the quiet, simpler life you had known. The noise and commotion seemed to close in around you, but Hongjoong’s steady presence kept you grounded.
“It's a lot to take in, right?” he asked.
You nodded, mouth opened in awe as you took in your surroundings. “It's huge. I can't stop looking everywhere!”
He laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “We'll have plenty of time to explore everything once we've settled in properly. I'll show you all my favorite places, okay?”
You smiled at him. A gentle, real smile. “Okay!”
Hongjoong looked around, his eyes bright with excitement despite the exhaustion. “Luckily for us, two of my closest friends live here. They’re good people, and I’m sure they’ll offer us a place to stay.”
You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. You haven't told me much about your past, so I’m really excited, Joongie.”
“In the future, I'll tell you everything you want to know. My past, present and future are yours, Y/N.”
Your heart fluttered, and a deep blush coated your face. A sheepish smile stole its way onto your lips.
Hongjoong led you through the bustling streets, expertly navigating the maze of alleys and markets. After a few twists and turns, you arrived at a modest but welcoming home. 
He hastily jumped up the carriage and then held his hand out for you to take it. You smiled at him. Your lover was a true gentleman, and it made you feel all giddy inside, even at such a small gesture.
Hongjoong knocked on the door, and moments later, it swung open to reveal a tall, athletic man with sharp features and an inquisitive look.
“Hongjoong?” the man said in surprise, his eyes widening. The first thing you noticed was his clothes. They looked… expensive. And yet, he lived in such a small home.
You wondered what his story was.
“What are you doing here?”
“San, it’s a long story,” Hongjoong replied, pulling San into a hug. “We need a place to stay. Is Wooyoung home?”
San nodded, stepping aside to let you both in. “He’s in the kitchen. Come in.”
As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. A few moments later, another man appeared, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. He had a playful sparkle in his eyes and a welcoming smile on his face.
“Who do we have here?” Wooyoung asked, setting the tray down and wiping his hands on a towel.
“Wooyoung, this is my friend,” Hongjoong introduced you. “She's been traveling with me.”
Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise and then softened. “Well, any friend of Hongjoong’s is welcome here. Please, make yourself at home.”
You felt a warmth spread through you at their genuine hospitality. San and Wooyoung led you to a cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. You sank into a comfortable chair, letting out a sigh as your aching muscles relaxed.
“Sorry for the sudden arrival,” Hongjoong said, his tone sincere. “We didn’t have time to send word ahead.”
San waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re safe. What’s going on?”
Hongjoong looked at you first, before briefly explaining: “It's too long of a story to share in detail. But, we had to flee from where we came from and are now on a mission to… clear up some misunderstandings. I can promise you two that you'll be kept out of any trouble. I just… need a safe place, especially to keep my woman safe.”
San nodded, curiously glancing towards you as the words ‘my woman’ left Hongjoong’s mouth. You smiled awkwardly at the man. “We have a spare room you can use, Hongjoong.”
Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes. It wasn't much, but just having a place to stay, surrounded by people you knew Hongjoong trusted, was enough to make you feel all sorts of emotions. 
“Thank you,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”
Hongjoong squeezed your hand again, his own eyes full of gratitude. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered softly. “Wooyoung and San are good, nice people. How about you just relax and befriend them while I'll do the work, hm?”
“I couldn't possibly-”
“Oh, but you can”, he interrupted you, playfully playing with your hair. “My Y/N should never worry her pretty head about anything again now that she's with me.”
You giggled sheepishly. “Oh Joongie, you're such a flirt!”
“Ahem.” A voice interrupted you and suddenly, the bubble around the two of you burst and you were reminded that you were not alone but, in fact, in the house of two men who were now very openly staring at you.
One who was cackling behind his hand like a menace - Wooyoung - and the other one who did not know where he should look. You, or the very interesting ceiling?
“So, ‘my woman', huh?” Wooyoung teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since when did you become such a romantic, Hongjoong? And most importantly: where’s our invitation to the wedding?”
Hongjoong’s ears turned a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wooyoung, now’s not the time…”
“Oh, but it’s always the time for love, Joongie!” Wooyoung replied with a dramatic flourish. “Here we were, thinking you were just wandering around from city to city and selling your dresses, but no, you were secretly out there sweeping a lovely lady off her feet!”
San tried to interject, a desperate attempt to hold the man beside him back. “Wooyoung, maybe we should-”
“San, don’t be a killjoy,” Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in weeks! Besides, our Hongjoong, who couldn't even look a woman into the eye the last time we saw him, has finally grown up. We must celebrate!”
“I'm older than both of you, Wooyoung!”
Hongjoong buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, feeling a bit more at ease in the presence of the two strangers now.
“Y/N, you should know,” Wooyoung continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “Hongjoong here is quite the catch. He’s a gentleman, a true and talented dressmaker, and apparently, a poet. ‘My woman’, indeed.”
San finally managed to find his voice. “Alright, Wooyoung, give them a break. They’ve had a long journey, and they need rest, not your joking.”
Wooyoung pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over, Hongjoong. We need all the juicy details later.”
Hongjoong groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You never change, do you, Wooyoung?”
“Never,” Wooyoung replied proudly. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
San shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get you both settled in. You can rest, and we’ll talk more later. Until then Wooyoung, behave yourself.”
Wooyoung saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, captain!”
Later that evening, after a hearty meal and much laughter with Wooyoung and San, you were led into a small, cozy room. The modest bed in the corner looked incredibly inviting after the long journey. You quickly freshened up, San kindly lending you some spare clothing for the night, before returning back to the room. Hongjoong was already there, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. You quietly slipped in beside him, the bed creaking softly under your weight.
He turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.
“Tired,” you admitted, snuggling closer to him. 
Only then did you realize that, despite sharing the bed with him multiple times now, this was the first time both of you wore proper sleeping clothing. Therefore, both of you were a bit… more exposed than usual.
Suddenly, you were very, very aware of the naked skin his hand was occasionally touching.
And your heart skipped a beat. This time, not of the usual warmth Hongjoong ignited within you all the time.
No, this time, there was also a hint of fear rushing through your veins.
You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of his touch, yet the past clung to you like a shroud, and you felt a flicker of hesitation within you.
“Y/N,” Hongjoong’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and soothing, “you can trust me.” There was an earnestness in his tone, a promise that echoed in the silence of the room. He shifted closer, his body radiating heat and a sense of safety that beckoned you to let go of your fears and open your eyes to meet him.
Nothing but sincerity and love greeted you in his gaze.
As his hand traced a gentle path along your arm, you shivered at the sensation. It was a touch that was so different from what you had known, devoid of the harshness that had once marred your skin and spirit. His fingers danced lightly over your wrist, and you felt a rush of warmth that sent a thrill through your heart, igniting a yearning you had thought was lost forever.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded carefully. It was a struggle to separate the innocence of his affection from the painful memories that tainted your every being. You could feel your breath quicken as he leaned closer, the scent of him - fresh and comforting - surrounding you like a soft embrace.
Hongjoong’s fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his. The way he looked at you, with such reverence and care, made your heart ache. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and it felt like a balm to your soul. You had craved this kind of tenderness, and even though the man in front of you was willing to give it to you, to give you his all, a remaining feeling of panic remained deep inside of you.
“I'm sorry you have to deal with this again. One may think that after we slept side by side so many times already I would get used to it. I don't know why I'm so pathe-”
“Princess, don't you dare finish this sentence. You're incredible and don't have to apologize for a single thing.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that said so, so much, a kiss that was patient and completely unhurried. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you like a protective cocoon.
You did your best to believe in his words.
That night, nothing more happened. 
Hongjoong knew that it would take you a long while to truly let go of your fears.
And, while tracing more gentle kisses along your skin, all he said was: “I don't need you to give me your body to know that you are already mine and I am yours.”
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The next day, as you slowly woke up and blinked the tears away, you noticed two things immediately: winter was coming, and the temperatures were dropping quickly and, most importantly; Hongjoong's side of the bed was empty.
There was no logical explanation for the panic that immediately set in, yet you felt your chest tightening and your heart pounding quickly. You rushed out of bed, almost stumbling over your own feet as you slipped into the soft pantoffels San provided you with, and sprinted down the stairs. 
“Woah, what's the rush-”
“Wooyoung”, you interrupted the man with sleepy, still half-closed eyes, “Where's Hongjoong?”
He scratched the back of his hand. “He left when you fell asleep last night. All he said was that he had some matters to take care of and would be back early in the morning. He… isn't back yet?”
The weight of Wooyoung's words hit you like a train. If Hongjoong had promised to be back by morning, then where was he? The sun was already peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and there was still no sign of him. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the panic threatened to overwhelm you. “No… he isn't back yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign on your tongue. 
Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to concern. “Maybe he got held up somewhere? You know how he is… always taking on more than he should.”
You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the answer. “He wouldn't just leave without telling me. Not like this.” 
But what if he would? 
The unease in your chest grew stronger, the fear tightening its grip around your heart.
Wooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's on his way back right now.”
But you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt he was trying so hard to hide. The pit in your stomach deepened, and you knew you couldn't just sit around waiting, hoping that everything would be okay. 
“I need to find him,” you said, determination lacing your voice. You quickly turned on your heel, heading for the door without another word.
"Wait!" Wooyoung called after you, but you were already halfway out the door, your mind set on one thing: finding Hongjoong.
And then you pumped head first into San.
“Careful, little one. What's the-”
“Have you seen Hongjoong?” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you nearly collided with San.
San’s usually warm expression was replaced with a frown. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush?”
You hesitated, your mind racing. Should you tell them? Would they even understand? Hongjoong hasn't told them anything concrete about your situation as of now, and you weren't sure if you should tell them without him present.
“He’s… He’s not back yet. Wooyoung said he left last night, but he should’ve been back by now.”
San’s eyes widened. “And he hasn't said where he's going?”
You shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “No. But I... I can’t just sit around and wait. I need to find him.”
San looked conflicted, glancing over at Wooyoung, who had followed you outside. “But you don’t know your way around the capital. You could get lost or… worse.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but San gently placed a hand on your arm, stopping you. “I get that you’re worried, but let’s wait a bit longer, okay? He wouldn’t want you getting into trouble trying to find him.”
The thought of sitting around doing nothing while Hongjoong was out there - somewhere - felt unbearable. He was shouldering all your problems alone, and it made you both guilty and mad that he didn't even tell you a single thing. 
Reluctantly, you nodded, and San led you back inside the house. The atmosphere was heavy as the three of you settled into the living room, the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes in agonizing slowness.
“So… uh…”
Awkward silence set in, both men looking at each other concerned. Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood, leaned back on the couch and stretched.
“Uh.. Did you know that San literally can't sleep without hugging something? And with something, I mean me - like, this man doesn't know how strong he is and literally suffocates me every night!”, he laughs.
You glanced at San, who looked somewhat mortified, a blush creeping up his neck. “Wooyoung…” he muttered, giving him a half-hearted glare. Unfortunately, his joke did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only made the awkwardness more palpable. “Uh, that's… interesting,” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say. You liked them both, but conversations with them always felt like you were navigating a minefield, unsure of where to step. 
Especially now that Hongjoong wasn't here with you.
San rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “It's not like that, really. It's just… a comfort thing, I guess.”
You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, stealing glances at Wooyoung and San, who were both trying, in their own ways, to lighten the atmosphere. They were being so kind, so patient, but it only made you feel worse. You weren’t used to this. It was foreign, almost suffocating, in a way you couldn't quite understand. 
Wooyoung cleared his throat, breaking the silence, seemingly ignoring that you still haven't said anything to his joking attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, have you had breakfast yet? I can make something if you’re hungry.”
You shook your head, though the thought of eating made your stomach twist in a knot. “No, I’m… I’m not really hungry.” 
“Coffee, then?” San offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “Or tea? I think there’s still some left in the kitchen.” 
You hesitated, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Maybe… tea?” It felt like the right thing to say, even if you weren’t sure you could stomach anything right now. 
San nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. “Tea it is. I’ll be right back.” He got up, his footsteps almost too loud in the quiet room, leaving you alone with Wooyoung. The silence between you and the other man was thick, both of you unsure of what to say. You could feel his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if you looked up, he’d see just how out of sorts you really were.
Wooyoung shifted in his seat, clearly trying to come up with something to break the tension. “You know, I don’t think we’ve really had the chance to talk much… Just us,” he said.
“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. You wanted to be able to talk to him, to say something normal, but the words just wouldn’t come. It was frustrating - feeling like you were locked inside your own head, even when you desperately wanted to reach out. He leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I get it, though. Meeting new people can be… overwhelming.”
You looked up at him. “It’s just… I’m not really used to this. To any of this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Wooyoung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. But hey, no pressure. We’re just… trying to make you feel welcome, you know? You're Hongjoong's girl, after all.”
“I know,” you replied quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I really appreciate it. I do. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”
He didn’t press you, just nodded again, his eyes soft. “It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. We’ve all got our own issues, you know?”
Before you could respond, San returned, holding a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to you with a small, reassuring smile. “Here you go. It’s chamomile - good for relaxing.” 
“Thanks,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into your skin. 
San settled back into his seat, the three of you once again falling into a somewhat awkward silence. You sipped your tea, the warmth soothing your throat, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside you. They were trying so hard, and that only made it worse. You could see the effort in every glance, every word. They didn’t know your past, your struggles, and you didn’t know how to tell them - didn’t even know if you should. And so you stayed quiet, trapped in your own thoughts, feeling like an outsider despite their best efforts.
“I guess… I’m just not good at this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“At what?” San asked gently, leaning forward slightly.
“Talking. Being around people. Making… friends I don’t know how to…” You trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Wooyoung chuckled softly, not in a mocking way, but as if he understood more than you realized. “You’re doing just fine. We’re not exactly pros at this either, you know. Most of the time, we’re just winging it.”
San nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s okay to not know what to say. We’re just… glad you’re here.”
Their words made something inside you ache. You still weren’t used to kindness without strings attached, to people caring just because. It felt undeserved, even after Hongjoong showed you that you did in fact deserve it, and that made you even more unsure of how to act. 
“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You wanted to be better at this, for them, for Hongjoong, but you didn’t know how.
Wooyoung grinned, nudging your shoulder lightly. “No need to thank us. We’re all in this together, right?”
You nodded, managing a small smile in return. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.
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If someone would've told you that you'd ever be genuinely mad at Kim Hongjoong, you definitely would've laughed right in their face. Because Hongjoong was the kindest, sweetest man you'd ever known, so what would ever make you angry at him?
“Ah, look who's back,” was all you said as you heard the door close behind you.
You had never imagined feeling this way toward Hongjoong, the man who you grew to love so much. But now, as you stood in your shared living room, hearing the door close behind you, that anger burned hotter, fueled by the fear and helplessness that had consumed you all morning.
You didn't turn around to face him immediately, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one only making the knot in your chest tighter. 
The sound of his footsteps approaching filled the room, and you could feel his presence behind you, close enough to touch. For a moment, you considered letting it go, just brushing it all under the rug like you’d done with so many things before. But this was different. This problem wasn't just his alone; this was your life too, your problems, your fears, and he had just walked away, leaving you in the dark.
Hongjoong hesitated. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he began, but that was all it took to make you whirl around, your emotions spilling over.
“Sorry? You’re sorry?” The words came out harsher than you intended, but you couldn’t stop them. “You left without saying a word, Hongjoong. I don't even know where you went! You promised you’d be back by morning, and then you just… didn’t come back. It's almost midnight now! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, his voice softening, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. “I just had to take care of some things-”
“But why alone?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do you always do this? You think you have to handle everything by yourself, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected. But this is my problem too, Joong! I have a right to know, to help, to be there with you! Because…” your voice broke, and you looked at the floor as you wiped a tear away, “because the guilt is eating me alive, Joong. Without me… without me, none of this would have ever happened. It all began with me, so I should… I should take responsibility too.”
Hongjoong’s expression softened as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, hey, no,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to cup your face, but you took a step back and shook your head silently.
“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like this is just something we can brush aside, like it’s no big deal. You think you’re protecting me by keeping things from me, but you’re not. You’re only making it worse. I can’t keep doing this, Joong. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay for you to shut me out. For you to shoulder everything alone.”
Hongjoong’s hand dropped to his side, his face crumbling with regret. “I never wanted to shut you out. I just… I didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden. You're still so… hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it on my own.”
“But it’s not just your burden to carry!” you cried, your voice breaking. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Joong. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle. You don’t get to just leave me in the dark, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if you’ll even come back. I was worried sick the whole day!”
His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t know how to make this right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”
You shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks as you looked at him, at the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who had somehow become a stranger to you in this moment. 
“I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. “You may talk to me again when you're finally ready to include me in your plans. Until then… good night, Joong.”
“Y/N, wait-”
But the door shut close behind you before he could finish his sentence.
“H‐hey, I'm sorry, I really didn't want to eavesdrop, but I heard you two arguing...” San’s voice trailed off, his gaze meeting yours. The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check threatened to overflow.
For a second, you hesitated. You weren’t close to San - not really. He was still more of a stranger than a friend, someone who was kind and caring but still somewhat distant. But right now, you felt like you were drowning, and he was the only solid thing within your reach.
Without thinking, you moved towards him. As soon as you reached him, you hesitated again, but before you could pull back, San’s arms wrapped around you in a warm, protective embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and the dam inside you finally broke.
Tears poured down your cheeks as you cried against him, the sobs you’d been holding back all day finally breaking free. San stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly relaxed, his hold tightening slightly as he let you cry it out.
The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear - it was the first comfort you’d felt all day. But even as he stood there comforting you, you still felt torn. The only person you'd ever fully confined in was Hongjoong. This was new territory for you, and it was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.
San didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, holding you as you trembled in his arms. His hand moved slowly to your back, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to soothe you. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.
As your sobs subsided, leaving you with shaky breaths and red, tear-streaked cheeks, you slowly pulled back, wiping your eyes. You were still in his arms, but you felt the awkwardness creeping back in, and your gaze wandered again, not knowing where to look.
“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I didn’t mean to…”
San shook his head, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to break down sometimes.”
You managed a small, shaky smile, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering between you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, San. I feel so lost. Hongjoong… he means everything to me, but he’s shutting me out. I know he has only my best interest at heart, but… This is my story, too. And I don’t know how to handle that.”
San hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what you’re going through,” he began, “but I do know that Hongjoong cares about you - more than you probably realize. He’s just… used to handling things on his own. ”
You nodded.
“You’re… you’re really kind, San,” you murmured, your voice still trembling. “But we barely know each other. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”
San’s expression softened even more, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not a burden. We all have our struggles, and sometimes it helps to have someone to lean on, even if it’s someone you’re not that close to… yet.” He added that last word with a gentle emphasis, as if offering a bridge to something more.
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a small crack in the walls you've built around yourself. 
And so, in the heat of the moment, you told him everything. San brought you to the living room, where he carefully sat you down and wrapped you in a blanket, and as Wooyoung joined you two, you told them everything.
About your marriage, your family, your town - and about the man who took it upon himself to save you from this cruel fate.
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The tension between you and Hongjoong had been unbearable for days. Ever since that night, neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other. 
You had thrown yourself into anything that could keep your mind busy - cleaning, reading, anything to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and the man you loved. 
Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room, lost in thought, you heard the front door creak open. Hongjoong stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart clenched at the sight of him - he looked exhausted, worn down by the stress of the past few days.
He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, as if trying to gauge your mood, before finally breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”
The words sent a chill down your spine, but you nodded, too tired to resist any longer. “Okay,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch and facing him.
Hongjoong swallowed, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’re still angry at me,” he began, his voice low and strained. “And I understand why. I learned my lesson, Y/N. But now… now I wanna include you. If you… if you want that.”
You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart beating faster as he continued.
“There’s someone we need to see,” he said after a pause, his eyes searching for yours. “Someone who can help us, who can clear my name and… maybe, just maybe, give us a chance at a life without all this running and hiding.”
You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Who… who are you talking about?”
Hongjoong took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “The Queen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the only one powerful enough to undo this mess. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with her for days, but she’s… she’s not easy to reach. But now… now we can finally meet her.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “The Queen? As in… the Queen?” 
The Queen was a figure of almost mythical power, someone so far removed from your world that the idea of asking for her help seemed as impossible as wishing on a star.
But Hongjoong’s expression was deadly serious, and you could see the determination burning in his eyes. He wasn’t just grasping at straws - he truly believed this was your last chance, your only hope to end the nightmare that had taken over your lives.
“The Queen,” he confirmed, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly as he reached out to you. 
“You know… I… I’ve worked for her for years, Y/N. I made her gowns, her dresses, the wedding dress she wore when she married the King… that was mine. She told me once, when I presented it to her, that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, she would do her best to help me. And I never thought I’d have to take her up on that offer, but now… I have no other choice.”
“The Queen… oh my God,” you whispered. “This is… insane.”
The reality of what Hongjoong was saying began to sink in, and your mind spun with the implications. The Queen, the most powerful woman in the kingdom, someone who could alter the course of your lives with just a single word… It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d grown up hearing stories about her, tales of her beauty, wisdom, and strength. But those were just stories. The idea of meeting her, let alone asking for her help, seemed impossible. Yet here Hongjoong was, standing in front of you, serious and resolute.
“I know it sounds insane,” Hongjoong said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But this is our best chance, Y/N. Maybe our only chance. And we have evidence. The letters, remember?
“-And the scars on my body,” you whispered. 
Hongjoong bawled his hands, his jaw clenching immediately. “You never… told me you had remaining scars.”
You nodded. “Ignoring them is easier. I try to… forget them entirely when I can.”
Without a word, he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body making you relax immediately.
After a moment, he cleared his throat, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. “We need to get ready,” he said, his voice steady. “If we’re going to meet the Queen, we can’t go in looking like this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“There’s no time to waste. I have to make something for us,” he said, determination flashing in his eyes. “We need to look elegant. I might not have my supplies here, but I can work with what we have.”
Your heart raced at the thought of him making outfits from scratch. “Are you sure you can do that?”
He nodded firmly, already moving toward the small room where you were temporarily staying in Wooyoung and San's house. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a minute to gather some things.”
You watched as he began searching through the limited fabric and materials you had, his hands working swiftly. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out old sheets and any leftover clothing you had brought along. You felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety as you realized the weight of what he was attempting to do.
“What do you need me to do?” you asked, stepping closer to him.
“There's a shop nearby that sells fabrics,” he said, already rummaging through his pockets for money, “I need you to buy me some. Can you do that?”
Your heart raced at the urgency in his voice, but a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Uh, sure, but... I’m not sure where it is,” you admitted, glancing out the window. The sun was starting to set, and you were acutely aware of the time slipping away.
“I’ll draw you a quick map,” he said, moving quickly to grab a scrap of paper and a pen. He sketched a simple layout, marking the route to the shop with clear, careful lines. “You can do this, Y/N. Just follow the map, and don’t let anyone see you.”
You nodded. “What do you need me to get?” 
“Just some quality fabric, something that looks nice but isn’t too extravagant. Maybe something dark for me, something light and flowing for you,” he instructed, glancing up at you. “Can you remember that?”
You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Great,” he said, folding the paper and handing it to you. “I’ll need you back as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”
“I’ll be quick,” you promised. As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of him, already immersed in his work, the fabric and thread strewn across the table like a chaotic canvas. 
As you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. You followed the map he had drawn. The shop wasn’t far, and soon you found yourself standing in front of a small fabric store, the sign creaking softly in the breeze.
Once inside, the overwhelming scent of textiles filled your senses. Bolts of fabric in every color and texture lined the walls, and the shopkeeper gave you a curious look as you stepped in. Remembering Hongjoong’s instructions, you immediately focused on finding something that fit his descriptions. 
After scanning the shelves, you spotted a soft, flowing fabric in a light cream color that seemed perfect. You could almost picture how beautiful it would look on you. With that in mind, you also searched for a darker fabric for Hongjoong. You settled on a deep navy blue, rich yet understated, that would complement the cream tone perfectly.
With your choices made, you approached the counter, your heart pounding as you handed over the money Hongjoong had given you. The shopkeeper smiled and carefully wrapped the fabric. 
“Thank you,” you said, clutching the bundle tightly as you headed back outside. 
As you stepped through the door of Wooyoung and San's house, you saw Hongjoong still working diligently. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw the fabric in your arms. “You did it!” he exclaimed, taking the fabric from you. “This is perfect!”
You smiled, relieved to see his excitement. “I hope it’s what you wanted. I wasn’t sure…”
“It’s exactly what I needed,” he said, moving quickly to lay the fabric out on the table. “Now, we can start putting everything together.”
Hongjoong spread the fabrics across the table, eyes gleaming with purpose. “This is going to be incredible,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. You watched him with admiration as he quickly sketched designs in his notebook, his mind racing with ideas.
The first night stretched on, the room dimly lit by a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You could hear the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine as Hongjoong lost himself in the work. 
Time blurred as the night turned into dawn, and you found yourself falling in and out of sleep. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machine and the occasional rustle of fabric. You’d occasionally catch Hongjoong stealing glances at you, and though he was clearly exhausted, there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't die down.
By morning, the first pieces of your outfits began to take shape. “Look at this,” Hongjoong said, holding up the bodice of your gown. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile. “It’s coming together beautifully, don’t you think?”
“It’s stunning, Hongjoong,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration. “I can't wait to see the final piece.”
As he set it down and returned to his work, you noticed how hard he had to concentrate just to keep his eyes open. He was clearly pushing himself to the limit. You wanted to urge him to take a break, to rest for a moment, but you hesitated.
Hongjoong moved with practiced precision, cutting and sewing and cutting and sewing; repeating the same routine over and over again.
Yet, as the hours ticked by, his pace slowed down more and more.
“Hongjoong,” you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for so long.”
He paused, looking at you with those tired yet determined eyes. “I can’t stop now. We’re so close. I just need to finish your gown, and then I’ll rest, I promise.”
You sighed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion when we meet the Queen.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, but the laughter quickly faded as he nodded. “I promise, Y/N. Just a bit longer.”
A bit longer turned out to be one more day full of work.
On the evening of the second day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hongjoong finally stepped back, surveying the gown he had made for you. The fabric flowed beautifully, a soft cream color with delicate embroidery that accentuates your figure. It was breathtaking.
“Look,” he said, gesturing to the dress. “It’s finished.”
“It doesn't matter how many dresses of yours I'll see, I'll always be amazed… you're so talented, Joongie,” you said, slowly stepping between his legs and carefully combing through his hair.
Hongjoong slung his arms around your waist and laid his head on your stomach, closing his eyes for a few minutes.
You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his reassurance settle within you. “So, how exactly will we get to the palace?” you asked, trying to shift the focus from your worries to practical matters.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes brightening as he began to explain. “The Queen’s servants are discreet and efficient. After I sent word to her, she agreed to send a carriage for us. It should arrive tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” The reality sent your heart racing again. “Do we have everything ready? What if something goes wrong?”
Hongjoong chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. Everything is in place. The only thing we need to do is stay calm.”
The following morning arrived way too fast. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and a warm breeze entering your room through the window.
Hongjoong was already up, carefully folding the outfits he had poured his heart into over the past two days. You stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Are you ready for this?” you asked softly.
He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, offering you a small smile. 
You gave him a reassuring nod yourself, though your own nerves were starting to fray. The idea of meeting the Queen, of putting your fate in her hands, felt surreal. But there was no turning back now. You quickly changed into the gown Hongjoong had created for you, the fabric cool against your skin, yet surprisingly comforting. It fit you perfectly, accentuating your form in all the right ways, the soft cream color making you feel both elegant and ethereal.
Though the dress Hongjoong created back in your hometown, the one so blue it reminded you if the sea itself, would always be your favorite, this one was nonetheless nothing but breathtaking. 
When you finally emerged, Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a long moment, a proud smile stealing its way on his lips. “You look… beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like I imagined.”
You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You look amazing, too.”
Hongjoong's gaze softened as you stepped closer. All that mattered was him, standing before you, his eyes tracing every curve and line of your face.
You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. His breath hitched at the simple touch, and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the love, the desire, and the lingering regret of the days you'd spent apart. 
His hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest, 
Hongjoong’s eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You didn’t need to say a word - your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
When his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to disappear. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring every second. His lips were soft, warm, and as they moved against yours, you felt a deep, aching need stirring within you, a need that had been building for days, weeks, months.
Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Hongjoong responded in kind, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as if all the emotions you'd both been holding back were pouring out in this one, desperate act.
You could taste the urgency on his lips, feel the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. His tongue brushed against yours, sending a wave of heat through your body that made you feel like you were melting into him. The kiss was everything - sweet and tender, yet fierce and consuming.
Hongjoong’s hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. You could feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, and it only made you want him more. 
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Hongjoong’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that this very moment here was real.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks. “I love you too, Hongjoong. I always have. I always will.”
He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to show you just how much he loved you, how much you meant to him.
“You ready?” he asked as he took a step back. You instantly missed his lips on yours, but you nodded nonetheless. 
He offered you his hand, and you took it without hesitation.  
As you stepped aside, clearly overdressed in this rural neighborhood, the carriage was already waiting, a sleek, black vehicle with the Queen’s crest emblazoned on the side. The horses were well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. A stern-looking driver stood by, his expression unreadable as he held the door open for you. With one last deep breath, you and Hongjoong climbed inside, settling onto the plush seats.
The carriage began to move slowly, the sound of the wheels clattering against the cobblestones filled the silence. You glanced at Hongjoong, who was staring out the window, his jaw clenched. 
For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply watched the world pass by outside. 
Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
The question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. But as you met his gaze, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in days.
The sudden shift in conversation caught you off guard, but a small smile crept onto your face as the memory came flooding back. “Of course, I remember,” you replied, chuckling softly. “How could I forget that? Ah, Django… I miss him… And Benji… oh God, my little Benji… I hope they're all well.”
“They are, my love. I'm sure they are.”
And then, as the carriage rounded a final bend, the palace finally came into view. It was a magnificent structure, with its white marble walls glowing in the fading light. The Queen’s residence was every bit as awe-inspiring as the stories had said, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tighten.
As the carriage drew closer, you could see a group of palace guards standing right outside the gates, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns that lined the pathway to the grand entrance. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the driver emerged, opening the door for you and Hongjoong.
You took a deep breath. Hongjoong stepped out first, offering his hand to help you down. As your feet touched the ground, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
The grand doors of the palace opened with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing a tall, elegant woman dressed in a deep burgundy gown. Her presence was commanding, yet her expression was kind as she approached.
“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and authoritative. “The Queen has been expecting you.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Hongjoong, who gave you a small nod, before you both followed the woman inside. The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with various paintings and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The floor beneath your feet was made of polished marble, and the soft click of your shoes were echoing through the halls.
As you walked deeper into the palace, the grandeur only increased. Walls were lined with portraits of past kings and queens, their eyes seeming to follow you as you passed. 
Finally, you were led to a pair of ornately carved doors, which the woman pushed open with ease. Beyond them was a grand chamber, bathed in the warm light of a thousand candles. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne that seemed to be carved out of pure gold, was the Queen herself.
She was as regal as you had imagined, with an aura of quiet power that made the room feel smaller, the air more charged. Her hair was a rich, dark color, intricately braided and adorned with jewels that sparkled with every movement. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, fixed on you and Hongjoong as you entered the room.
“Your Majesty,” Hongjoong said, bowing deeply before you had a chance to follow his lead.
The Queen’s gaze softened as she looked at Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. “Rise, Hongjoong,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It has been a long time.”
Hongjoong straightened up, but his grip on your hand tightened. You could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Queen’s eyes flicked to you, her expression unreadable. “I see you have brought someone with you, Hongjoong. Please, both of you, come closer.”
You nodded, bowing deeply in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that almost made you fall ill.
The Queen studied you for a moment before her gaze returned to Hongjoong. “I understand you’ve come to ask for my help?” she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hongjoong replied. “We’ve found ourselves in desperate need of your help. I’ve brought evidence to prove our case, but… there is also something that only Y/N can show you.”
The Queen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what is this evidence?”
Hongjoong hesitated, glancing at you before speaking. “Your Majesty, before I ask Y/N to show you the evidence, I feel it’s important for you to understand her story - our story - in its entirety.”
The Queen nodded, her expression growing more serious as she settled back into her seat, indicating for him to continue.
Hongjoong took a long, deep breath. “Y/N came from a decent, middle-class family. They lived comfortably - not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Her future should have been secure, perhaps with a marriage that would maintain or even improve her standing in society. But things took a dark turn.”
He paused, glancing at you as if seeking your permission to continue. You gave him a small nod, and he went on, his voice heavy with emotion.
“Her father… he made a decision that changed everything. He married her off to a man well below her status - a drunkard, a violent brute. This man - he was no husband. He was a monster. He raped and beat her almost every day, treating her worse than a common servant. She was trapped in a nightmare, until she… until she had to kill him in self defense to save the both of us.”
“And to protect me,” you chimed in, your desperate gaze finding the woman before you before you continued: “J-joong- I mean, Hongjoong took the blame upon himself. He… he was about to be beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, so I… I took it upon myself to release him and flee with him.”
“We are here to plead our innocence, and to ask for a royal pardon of you, your Majesty,” Hongjoong spoke, standing proud and tall beside you, like the safe haven he always was for you.
“A royal pardon, you say?” she asked.
“Yes. Since no one in our town bothered to even investigate, we ask for you to review all evidence and overturn the decision.”
The Queen’s expression remained inscrutable, giving away nothing of her thoughts. Silence stretched in the grand chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the candles and the distant echo of footsteps in the vast corridors beyond.
At last, the Queen rose from her throne, the jewels in her hair catching the light as she moved. She descended the steps from the throne with grace 
“I can see the truth in your eyes, but understand this - granting a royal pardon is not a decision I take lightly. There must be undeniable proof,” she said.
She turned to you, her sharp gaze assessing. “Y/N, I need you to show me the evidence Hongjoong mentioned. Whatever it is, it must be enough to convince me beyond doubt.”
You reached into your cloak, pulling out a stack of worn, yellowed letters tied together with a frayed ribbon. Your hands shook as you untied them, revealing the harsh, almost frenzied handwriting of your late husband. You could feel the Queen’s eyes on you, her gaze intense, as you stepped forward and placed the letters in her outstretched hand.
“These letters,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “are from my deceased husband. In them, he admits to everything - his abuse, his threats, and… even his intent to kill me one day. They are his own words, Your Majesty. Written in moments of drunken rage, or cruel clarity. He was proud of what he did, and he never hid that from anyone. But he was also reckless, and he left these behind, never thinking they might be used against him.”
The Queen’s expression remained unreadable once again as she began to read the letters. The room was silent save for the sound of rustling paper. With each page she turned, you felt your heart pound louder, your hands clasping Hongjoong’s tighter.
After what felt like an eternity, the Queen looked up from the letters. Her gaze was more somber now, tinged with something that might have been pity, or perhaps understanding.
“These letters are indeed compelling,” she said slowly, “but it alone is not enough. The word of a dead man, though through his own admission, cannot fully clear your names. I need more.”
You hesitated, biting your lip. “Your Majesty,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the whole town knew what was happening. They turned a blind eye, because… because they didn’t want to get involved. I don’t know if I can rely on their testimony. But… my parents, though they looked away for so long, showed great remorse before I fled. They knew what was happening, and they did nothing to stop it. I… though I can never reconcile with them, I have no choice but to trust them this one last time.”
The Queen’s gaze softened slightly as she regarded you. “And you believe they will speak the truth, even now?”
You nodded, though you felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “Yes, Your Majesty. They have to.”
The Queen considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I will send for your parents and have them brought here to testify. But… there's another thing you want to show me, right?”
You swallowed hard. The letters had made an impact, but the Queen needed more, something undeniable. Your heart raced as you prepared to reveal the evidence that you had hidden for so long, even from yourself.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling. “There is… one more thing I can show you.”
The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. You hesitated, glancing at Hongjoong, who was watching you, his eyes telling more than words ever could. His presence gave you the strength to go on.
“My body bears the scars of my husband's cruelty,” you said quietly, “Scars that… tell the story of what he did to me.”
For a small second, something in her eyes flickered - perhaps sympathy, perhaps disgust at the thought of such brutality. But it disappeared as fast as it appeared, and she composed herself quickly. “Very well,” she said, her voice low and measured. “Show me.”
But before you could move, the Queen raised a hand to stop you. “Hongjoong,” she addressed him firmly, “you must wait outside. As you are not married, it would be inappropriate for you to remain here.”
Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught himself, understanding his words would make no impact. He nodded and gave you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right outside,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”
You nodded, trying to offer him a smile. “Thank you, Hongjoong.”
As he was escorted out of the room, the Queen waited until the door closed before turning back to you. The room felt emptier without Hongjoong by your side, but you tried to stay calm nonetheless. 
As he left the room, the Queen gestured to a few of her attendants, and a group of maids quickly approached. Your dress was elegant, more elaborate than you were used to, and you realized you would need help to reveal the scars that were hidden beneath its layers.
The maids moved with practiced efficiency, unfastening the intricate clasps and loosening the delicate fabric of your gown. You felt a wave of vulnerability wash over you as they carefully peeled back the layers, revealing the faint, jagged lines etched into your skin. 
The Queen stepped closer, her gaze intense as she examined the marks. She didn’t speak, but her silence was heavy.
After a long moment, she stepped back, her eyes closing for a moment. “These scars… they cannot be ignored.” She turned to one of her attendants, a stern-looking guard who had been standing by the door. “Send for a scrivener,” she commanded. “These letters and the scars on her body must be documented.”
The man bowed and hurried out of the chamber, leaving you alone with the Queen and the maids, who carefully refastened your dress. The Queen’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you. “Hongjoong has been a long confidante of mine, so naturally, he has my trust” she said, “But there is still a process that must be followed. The evidence will be recorded, and your parents and anyone else willing to testify will be brought before me. Until then, I must uphold the law.”
Once the scrivener arrived and began documenting the evidence, the Queen addressed you again. “You will be given quarters where you can rest,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “And I will ensure that you have everything you need until the trial begins. Be strong, Y/N. The truth will come to light.”
You bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
And with that, the Queen turned and left the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Now all you could do was wait.
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“Y/N,” Hongjoong's voice reached you the moment you stepped into the tower room. But before you could even respond, you found yourself distracted by your surroundings. For a place meant to imprison you, the room was unexpectedly luxurious - far more so than anything you'd ever experienced. The walls were draped with rich tapestries and the bed was covered in soft linens. A large, plush rug covered the stone floor, and the air smelled faintly of lavender.
You paused, blinking in surprise at the sight. This was supposed to be your prison? It surely made you feel out of place, like it belonged to a royal guest chamber rather than a cell.
"Are you alright?" Hongjoong’s voice broke through your thoughts, concern etched in his features as he took a step closer to you. But before you could answer, the door behind you creaked open again, and a small group of maids entered.
“Your bath is ready, my lady,” one of them said with a polite bow, her voice soft yet firm. “Please, come with us.”
My lady?
You looked at Hongjoong, startled and confused. He gave you an encouraging nod, though he looked just as confused as you.
“Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Reluctantly, you allowed the maids to lead you away, down a small corridor that connected to an adjoining room. The room was even more elaborate, with a large copper tub set in the center, already filled with steaming water that scented the air with rose petals and herbs. Thick, fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby, and a selection of fine soaps and oils were arranged on a small table besides.
They helped you quickly undress and step into the bath. The warm water immediately melted away the tension from your muscles. As they poured fragrant oils into the water, your eyes closed and you sank deeper into the water. The maids worked in silence, their hands gentle as they washed your hair and scrubbed your skin with fine soaps. Eventually, the bath was over, and you were lifted from the water, wrapped in a thick, warm towel. The maids dried you off and led you to a big mirror where they brushed your hair and dressed you in a white nightgown that felt impossibly soft against your skin.
Once they were done, they stepped back, quietly observing you. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. The nightgown was simple yet elegant, the white fabric almost transparent against your skin. It flowed down to your ankles, delicate lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. It made you look delicate and almost… sensual. 
Still deep in thought, you were guided back to the main room where Hongjoong was waiting. As you stepped into the room, you saw him pacing near the window, lost in thought. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw you.
For a long, long moment, he simply stared at you, his eyes wide as they traveled over your figure. His usual calm and collected demeanor seemed to crumble as a faint blush colored his cheeks. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“You-” Hongjoong began, his voice strained as he took a step closer, his gaze flicking back to you before quickly averting again. “You look… beautiful.” His words were quiet, and you could see the internal battle playing out within him as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
You could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he sneaked a glance at you, something that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was holding himself back. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.
Hongjoong cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, but the way he avoided your gaze told you that he was struggling. “I… I didn't mean to stare,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. "I just… You-”
You took a step closer. Hongjoong's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something raw and intoxicating in his expression - something that sent a shiver down your spine, something that made your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.
“Hongjoong,” you said softly, the sound of his name breaking the silence that had settled between you. “I'm fine. You can-”
“Sir, your bath is prepared as well,” one of the maids said with a polite bow. “Please allow us to assist you.”
Hongjoong stiffened slightly at the offer, clearly taken aback. “Uh, that's not necessary,” he stammered, his usual confidence faltering as a blush crept up his neck. “I can manage on my own.”
The maid, seemingly unfazed, simply nodded. “Of course, sir. But if you require anything, we will be right outside.” With that, she and the others gracefully exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.
Hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at you. “Well, I suppose I should... take that bath now,” he said.
You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I'll wait here,” you said softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.
He stood there for another moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply gave you a nod before retreating into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Desperately, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that the man of your dreams was completely bare just a few feet away. But just after a few minutes, you had to admit that it was pointless, and so, your feet took you to the bathroom once again.
You hesitated outside the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were crossing a line, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.
Hongjoong was sitting in the tub, his back to the door, the water lapping gently around his figure. Steam filled the room, the scent of the same herbs and soaps you previously used in the air. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes closed, and he seemed lost in thought, completely unaware of your presence.
For a moment, you just stood there, silently watching him. His usually sharp features were entirely relaxed, his shoulders sacked as he soaked in the water. You couldn’t help but admire the way the droplets clung to his skin, the way the muscles in his back moved with each breath he took.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you silently crossed the room. The soft pads of your feet made no noise on the stone floor as you approached the tub. Without thinking, you reached for a cloth that was hanging nearby, dipping it into the warm water.
He still hadn’t noticed you as you knelt beside the tub. Your hand hovered for a moment before you gathered the courage to press the cloth gently against his back.
Hongjoong stiffened immediately, his eyes snapping open as he realized someone was there. He turned his head sharply, his eyes wide as he met your gaze.
“Y/N?” His voice was breathless, and he immediately tried to shield his naked body from you. “What are you doing?”
You bit your lip, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d help you relax,” you said softly, your voice trembling with nerves.
Hongjoong’s gaze flicked down to the cloth in your hand and then back to your face. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his muscles tensed under your touch.
“Y/N… you don’t have to…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as you began to gently scrub his back, your movements slow and careful. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away under your touch.
He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward again as he allowed himself to relax. “You don't have to do this,” he murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced either.
You smiled a little, continuing your work, the cloth gliding over his skin in soothing circles. “Maybe not,” you whispered, “but I wanted to.”
Hongjoong’s breathing was uneven, each exhale shaky as you worked your way across his shoulders, the cloth tracing the lines of his muscles. You could see the way his body tensed, his fists clenching against the edge of the tub as if he was trying to control himself. 
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. “W-we should really stop… I-”
You gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him almost instantly. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, “I want to… I’m ready.”
His eyes found yours, wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. His gaze searched yours, as if he was trying to find any hint of uncertainty, any reason to stop this before it went too far.
But you didn’t waver. You had been through so much, had faced so many demons from your past, and now, standing here with him, you felt a sense of clarity you hadn’t in a long time. You wanted this, wanted him - wanted to break down the walls you had built so carefully around your heart.
Slowly, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, a shiver running through his body. You could feel his resistance, the way he fought to hold himself back, but there was also something in the way he leaned into your touch, a silent plea for more.
Your lips traveled from his temple to his ear, brushing against the sensitive skin as you whispered, “I know you try to hold yourself back for my sake. But I’m not scared, Joongie. Not anymore.”
Hongjoong’s eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, water cascading off his naked, sculpted body, droplets glistening on his skin in the soft, dim light of the room. 
Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly from where you stood. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you close, his wet skin soaking through your clothes as he carried you out the room. 
He reached the bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin. You looked up at him, your heart racing as he knelt beside you, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and falling into his eyes. He was completely bare, his body on full display, and yet his focus was entirely on you.
Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours, fighting your own in a battle of dominance you quickly lost.
Hongjoong’s hand moved under your gown, and with a gentle tug, he began to lift it, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pulled it over your head. The cool air hit your newly exposed skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his gaze warmed you instantly. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his eyes so full of love and lust it made you ache.
“You’re so, so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses as he made his way to your collarbone. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt him explore your body with his lips, his hands, his entire being.
He moved lower, his hands sliding over your skin, slowly. You shivered under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.
His hands moved delicately, tracing the lines of your body, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin. He was in no rush, savoring it all; every moment, every touch, every breath you took. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was as if he was worshiping you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.
“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky, filled with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you… for us.”
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, reassuring smile. “It already is,” you murmured, your voice filled with the same emotion you saw reflected in his eyes. “You make everything perfect for me, Joongie.”
He smiled, a tender, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter. “I’ve wanted this for so long… wanted you for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I’ve wanted this too… I’ve wanted you.”
His breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more intense. “I’m scared… of hurting you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Of moving too fast.”
You shook your head gently, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You could never hurt me,” you assured him softly. “I trust you, Hongjoong. I’m ready… because I know these hands of yours could never hurt me like he did.”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “I want to love you… properly, Y/N.”
You smiled, your heart swelling with love and adoration for the man above you. “Then love me, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Love me the way you’ve always wanted to. Make me yours.”
He chuckled, before slowly lowering himself into you. “Silly woman. You've been mine the moment I met you.”
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If anyone would've told you you'd ever see your parents on their knees, begging for mercy in front of you, you would've laughed right in their face.
But here you were. Witnessing it at this very moment.
Well, technically it wasn't in front of you - but the Queen, who was looking at them with intense, cold eyes.
You stood to the side, Hongjoong right beside you, close enough to witness every detail, yet far enough to keep the emotional distance you needed to not break down in tears.
The Queen's voice cut through the silence. “You have been called before the court to deliver your testimony. If you lie, it will have severe consequences,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We have gathered here today because a man was killed. Without any evidence or witness testimony, it was decided that Kim Hongjoong was the one responsible and would be hanged for it. Now, after careful investigation, I and everyone else here is fairly confident that this is not what happened. The man who died abused his wife L/N Y/N for close to a decade. And everyone supposedly knew. On the night of the alleged crime, it is to be assumed he came home to beat her once again. Kim Hongjoong was just there at the wrong time. Y/N had to kill her husband in self defense to protect the both of them,” the Queen continued. 
The whole room was deadly silent. Only the occasional sobs of your mother could be heard.
“Now I ask of you to truthfully answer my questions”, she said, looking at your parents directly, “is it true that you knew your daughter was getting abused?”
The silence that followed the Queen's question was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Your father kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside your mother. 
You remembered the last time you saw him. The moment where he apologized, where you saw the pain in his eyes. But would he also admit to his faults in public?
The Queen's eyes bore into them. She was not just asking for a simple answer; she was demanding the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And there was no escaping it.
Your father was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and strained. “We… we knew,” he confessed, the words stumbling out of him like a boulder finally giving way to gravity. “We knew what was happening, Your Majesty.”
A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom, but you remained still, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth you had been denied for so long was finally laid bare. Your mother’s sobs grew louder, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the reality of what was happening.
The Queen’s gaze did not waver. “And yet, you did nothing to help her?” she pressed, her tone hardening. “You allowed your daughter to suffer for years, without lifting a finger to protect her? Knowing that one day she could possibly be killed?”
Your mother finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. “We… we were afraid,” she stammered, her voice shaking with emotion. “We didn’t know what to do… We thought… we thought it would be worse if we intervened.”
A bitter taste filled your mouth as you listened to their excuses. They had left you to fend for yourself in a nightmare, and had turned their backs on you when you needed them the most. 
Even after you tried for months, years to come to terms with their betrayal, it still hurt deeply.
The Queen narrowed her eyes, but her expression gave nothing away. “You thought it would be worse?” she repeated, “Worse than watching your daughter endure unimaginable suffering? Worse than allowing her to be beaten, night after night, while you did nothing?”
Your mother’s tears flowed uncontrollably now, her sobs wracking her body as she nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Your father remained silent, his head hanging low, as if the weight of his guilt was too much to bear.
The Queen’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, her expression softening just slightly as she took in the sight of you standing there, silent and strong beside Hongjoong. 
This wasn't the first time you saw that expression on her face, and for a second you were left wondering if, maybe, she understood your pain. Really understood.
From woman to woman, from victim to victim.
“Your Majesty,” your father spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We… we failed her. We know that now. We were wrong, and we are deeply sorry.”
For a second, his eyes found yours. And though you knew you could never forgive them, you saw nothing but love and guilt in your father's eyes.
Maybe in another life, where you as a woman would have more rights, you all could have been a happy, normal family.
Maybe.
“But… There is one last thing I want to do for my daughter,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, if I may…?”
Her gaze flicked towards you. You clutched Hongjoong’s hands tighter, before giving her a final nod.
“Go on,” she said.
Your father hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before speaking again. “I brought them here, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “The rest of the people who stayed quiet. I brought all of them here today.”
The Queen raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between your father and you. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her decision. Your eyes widened and you immediately felt a lump form in your throat. 
Finally, the Queen nodded, “Bring them in.”
She turned towards the grand double doors at the back of the room, and with a slight motion of her hand, the guards opened them. One by one, a dozen people began to file in, their faces pale and solemn. You recognized each one of them - neighbors, former friends, even the local shopkeepers who had all turned a blind eye to your bruises and hushed cries for help. They looked as though they were walking to their own execution, eyes downcast, hands desperately clutching their clothes.
As they entered, they arranged themselves in a line before you, and then, as if guided by an unspoken command, they all began to bow. The sight of it - the people who had once ignored your pain now bowing before you, in front of the Queen herself - struck you like a blow to the heart.
You tightened your grip on Hongjoong’s hand, your breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of the moment began to settle over you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how much you tried to hold them back, they eventually began to spill over, silently tracing lines down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s hand remained warm and steady in yours, his presence grounding you as you struggled to process the scene before you.
Slowly, an elderly woman who had been your neighbor for years, stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N… we have no excuse for what we did, or rather, what we didn’t do. We failed you, just as your parents did. We saw the signs, but we chose to look away, to pretend it wasn’t our business. And for that… we are truly sorry.”
As everyone in line took their turn to speak, offering their apologies, their regrets, and their shame, the emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. You wept openly now, the sound of your sobs filling the otherwise silent courtroom. These were the apologies you had never expected to hear, the recognition of your suffering that had been denied to you for so many years.
Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into him, burying your face in his neck. The tears kept coming, and you let them. 
After each person spoke to you, they all remained bowed, waiting for your response. The Queen, too, seemed to be waiting, her gaze fixed on you.
You took a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to find the right words. But there were no words that could truly capture the enormity of what you were feeling. So instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging their apologies once and for all.
“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice raw and hoarse. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear… even if it’s too late.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, but the weight of the moment still pressed down heavily on you. The Queen stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. “You have all acknowledged your failings here today,” she said, “A man has died, and even if Y/N pulled the trigger, everyone here knows that at the end of the day, she remains an innocent woman. A woman who had to save herself because no one else did.”
As her final words settled over the courtroom, you felt a deep, heavy relief wash over you. The people who had failed you had spoken their apologies, and though it could never erase the pain you endured, the recognition of your suffering soothed your wounded soul.
Hongjoong kept a protective arm around you as you walked outside. The air outside the courtroom was crisp, the world feeling both too small and too vast after what had just happened. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.
“Y/N!”
You turned just in time to see your sister Miyeon rushing towards you, tears already streaming down her face. Her belly was still slightly rounded from her recent pregnancy, and in her arms, she cradled her newborn, your tiny niece or nephew, who was bundled up warmly against her chest.
Miyeon threw her arms around you, careful not to hurt her child, pulling you into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs, her voice filled with guilt and anguish. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know everything that was happening. If I had known, I would have been there for you. I should have been there for you!”
You held her tightly, your own tears spilling over once more as you buried your face in her shoulder. “Miyeon, it’s okay,” you whispered, even as your voice trembled. “I know you would’ve helped me if you could. You were far away, and you had no idea. You were also preparing to be a mother… I never wanted to burden you with my pain.”
“But you’re my sister,” she cried, pulling back to look at you with red, puffy eyes. “I should have been here. I should have done something, anything, to protect you. How could I have let this happen to you?”
You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known, Miyeon. None of this was your fault. I don’t blame you, not even for a second.”
Before you could respond, her husband, Gikwang, who had been standing a few steps behind her, joined the two of you. His expression was filled with compassion and guilt as he handed you a small, trembling bundle. “We… we brought something for you,” he said gently. “One of Hongjoong’s neighbors found him in his house and thought you’d want him back.”
Your breath caught in your throat as he placed the tiny, trembling creature in your arms.
“Benji!” you cried out.
The moment he was in your arms, the dam you had been holding back broke entirely. You clutched him to you, your sobs echoing through the quiet corridor as you cried even harder than you just moments before.
Hongjoong stood beside you, his hand on your back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you cradle Benji. Miyeon wrapped her arms around both you and Benji, and for a long, long while, you simply stood there, the three of you wrapped in a comforting embrace. As you finally pulled back, wiping your tears away, you looked at Miyeon and Hongjoong, then down at Benji, who was now purring softly in your arms, and also at Gikwang and their newborn child.
With a trembling but genuine smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Miyeon. Thank you for being here. And thank you for bringing him back to me."
Miyeon nodded, her own smile breaking through her tears. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what. You and I will keep in contact, right? You'll come visit me and I'll visit you, right? And… and you and Hongjoong will be happy together, right?”
As you wiped the last of your tears away, you gave Miyeon a firm nod. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “We will keep in contact. I’ll visit you, and you can come visit us. And yes… Hongjoong and I will be happy together. We’ll find a way to move forward.”
Miyeon smiled through her tears, her grip on her newborn tightening slightly as she nodded back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “That’s all I want for you, Y/N. To be happy. You deserve that more than anything.”
Gikwang placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. “You’re strong, Y/N,” he said softly. “And even if your parents and Jisoo aren't included, you have us that care about you, no matter how far apart we may be.”
You took a long, deep breath before looking down at Benji, who was still purring contentedly in your arms, then up at Hongjoong, who met your gaze with a look of unwavering support and love.
“Let’s go,” Hongjoong murmured, his hand gently squeezing yours. “It’s time to head home.”
You nodded. Turning back to your sister, you reached out and gave her one last, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised, “until then, take care. And also of your bab-”
“Jihoon. His name is Jihoon,” she whispered, carefully cradling the baby in her arms.
You smiled warmly at her and her child. “Take care of Jihoon too, okay?”
With that, you and Hongjoong turned and began to walk away, Benji still cradled safely in your arms. 
“Hey, Joongie?” you asked.
“Hm?”
“Do you think Django is doing well?
He laughed. “Oh, I know he is. That damn goat is probably terrorizing the whole town by now.”
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My Dearest Husband,
I hope this letter finds you well and you are not too weary from your travels. Though I'm proud the Queen has once again asked for one of your dresses, the house feels a little quieter without you here, though Miyeon, Gikwang, and little Jihoon are doing their best to fill the void. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown since you last saw him – he’s already running around like he owns the place. God, I’ve had to take more breaks than usual chasing after him. I’m sure you can guess why.
Miyeon has been a great help, though, and Gikwang even managed to fix the squeaky gate that’s been bothering you for months. We spent yesterday walking along the shore, Jihoon squealing with delight every time the waves came in. It made me think of how much you would’ve enjoyed the sight with him together. The sea is as beautiful as ever, though not nearly as beautiful as it is when I get to share it with you.
Oh, our little shop is thriving more than I could’ve imagined. Your teachings on sewing have paid off wonderfully, and the people can’t seem to get enough of the dresses I make. I'm so honored, though I still try and convince them yours are so much better. They keep saying how elegant the stitching is and how there’s something special about each piece. I always smile and tell them it’s because they were made with love – a love you taught me with every thread and needle. Though I do admit, I’ve had to slow down a bit these days. The shop misses you, too, but it’s running smoothly, and I can’t wait for you to see how well it's been going. 
I know you were worried about leaving me alone, but honestly, my love, you overthink too much. I think you forget sometimes just how capable I am. I may be waddling more than walking at this point, but I can still manage just fine, especially with Miyeon here to keep an eye on me. But I can’t help but smile when I think about how you’re already fretting over our little one, even before she’s born. You and your little princess – I can just see it now, the way you’ll spoil her rotten with all those tiny dresses you’ve been making. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to see you two together, hand in hand, as you show her the world.
She’s been kicking more these past few days, and it hurts like crazy. I can't wait to finally meet her. I’m already dreaming of the day when we’ll finally get to meet her. I know you’re just as eager as I am – I can see it in the way you smile whenever you talk about her. Our little princess. I think she knows, too, because she always seems to calm down when I think about you.
So, my love, don’t worry too much about us. We’re safe, happy, and counting down the days until you’re back home. The sea is waiting, the shop is thriving, and most importantly, your little family is here, eagerly anticipating your return. I’ll keep everything running smoothly until you’re back – though I must admit, I’m looking forward to resting when our little one decides it’s time to make her grand entrance.
Take care of yourself, and don’t let business keep you away for too long. We miss you dearly.
With all my love,
Your Wife
159 notes · View notes
nyx-is-missing · 1 year ago
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hello! Can you write a Clarisse La Rue x reader where they met before Clarisse got sent to camp halfblood when they were little and were best friends then Clarisse left for camp with no explanation then years later reader goes to camp and sees Clarisse for the first time in years and it’s kinda awkward but cute
thanks :)
This is kinda long sooorrry, to help, the part where she gets to camp (kinda) will be in green
Girls on film 📷
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Clarrise la rue x fem!reader
Warnings and explanations: bad words (take the kids out of the living room she swears) gender is specified cause it was written as wlw, but it doenst actually makes a diference, fluff, like two sentences, there is a kiss in the picture but they dont actually kiss sorry.
Unspecified parent gender for both sides so yall can pick wichever
Trying not to kill myself.
That was what i was doing 15 hours ago, just as any normal teenagers living (or as i prefer saying fighting for the soul to stay on the body) during finals week.
In my room there was nothing but piles and piles of normal work, piles for extra credit, piles of old quizzes to try to get me prepared for the new ones and a dumb incomplete project for photography class that was due tomorrow.
Okay ill admit, i had a month to make that, and all i needed to do was shoot pictures, but that was the problem, i prefer taking pictures of people, their emotions, whatever they might be, just never ceases to amaze me.
And my dumb project made take pictures of....landscapes.
Not too bad, if i had any actual real talent for that type of photography, but i dont, every picture gets ruined somehow, its the lightning, the lack of it, my camera falls, gets full of dirt and i get so mad that i just give up.
That whole speach was necessary for me to explain what i was doing 14 hours ago, and that would explain what i was doing 5 minutes ago.
14 hours ago i decided to shoot the photos, i could try many times before it got dark, and if o was lucky enough i wouldnt go insane before the golden hour, and could actually get some nice pictures.
I grabbed my totte bag taking with me only the necessary, camera stuff, the camera, some snacks and my notebook to upload the pictures before i went mad.
13 hours ago i was running to save my life.
And do you know that moment went you go through so much your mind decides to erase it?
That happened, now, what i do remember, i was sitting in a bench by a calm road not too far from the town, i had got some actually good pictures, some of me, some of the trees, some of a butterfly, maybe three cars had passed by since i was there, driving slowly, always saying hi and doing a thumbs up, normal, friendly people from the town.
And then i heard a noise that shook the trees.
I remember seeing something, but never what, i remember running to home as fast as i could, feeling my heartbeats in my neck, i remember the noise, but the people in the streets looked at me like there was nothing behind me and i went crazy
I remember getting home, having a desperate talk with my parent while they got my suiticase ready, and i dont remember a single word.
I remember a funny looking guy my age that got to my house, with goat legs and a more desperate look, and i remember one last hug before i left.
And thats all, aside from a hell of a lot of running nobody cares.
Aparently i passed out from shock or exaustion because i woke up in a unknown place, at night, in a hospital bed, with no actual doctors other than 15 year olds teenagers.
And a horseman standing in the corner, with quite a intelectual look actually.
And let me tell you guys that after the talk we had, if somebody told me i would marry queen Elizabeth within 4 days, i would just belived it.
Because nothing ever in my life would ACTUALLY beat up the level of crazyness of finding out i DO have another parent, they are just, A FUCKING GOD. GREEK. GODS. AH.
Then, after telling me my whole life was in fact, a big fat lie, the horseman... left.
Telling me i should sleep in the infirmary this night for precaution and that he was going to get me to a cabin tomorrow.
Like that was the most normal thing to ever happen to a human, he said goodnight and left.
While i sat there just trying to...basically form a sentence that wasnt "for fucks sake what the fuck was that"
I would have loved to say that i did slept that night, dreaming about glory and greek myths but that did not happened, at all.
I walked around the infirmary for hours, opening every cabinet and trying to make my mind to something, i searched for my stuff, and thankfully found my camera, with some pictures i hadnt noticed i had taken, one specific had a blurred thing in the forest.
When the first rays of sunlight appeared i got dressed, and decided that, in order to prove to myself (and probably to the mental hospital afterwards) i was not insane, i needed proof that i was actually living, actually there, being a demigodess, thats what they called.
Very few people were up already, and i did received some weird looks, it was clear nobody knew me, that was fine, i didnt knew anybody either.
I walked around taking some pictures, sometimes getting lost, but everything amazed me, the forest, the cabins, the stables, i found the entrance to a beach too, and then i got to the training area, aparently, i stayed far away, god forbid i woke up from this nightmare with a spear in my head, oh no, that would be bad.
Openning my camera i zoomed in the people, my speciality, it was sweet, seeing them trully smile, and not pretend for the picture, it was a genuine feeling the camera would keep forever, i zoomed around other peoples faces, but my camera focused on a face i could never forget, and she looked back at me, and realized i was there, but not that i was me, because she came towards me with a angry look.
Ill admit, the look scared me as hell, so much i tried to pretend i was never taking pictures of her, i slightly changed the angle and kept my face hidden behind the camera.
Do i need to say that did not fucking worked? No? Thank you.
"Who the fuck do you think you are taking random pictures of pe-"
She yanked my camera off of me mid sentence and stopped completely, looking like she had seen a ghost for some seconds.
"(Y/n)?"
"Clari?"
"How- what are you doing here!?"
She asked, with a worried look, still kind of confused, she did this look since we were little girls, and for a moment i had a big deja vu.
Two little girls running around, playing all day, telling each other secrets and stories, running to hug each other eveytime they were close, i still saw that girl in her eyes, but by her previous look, she did not.
"What am i doing here? What are YOU doing here? One day you dissapear without a trace, and your family said you went to a new school even though it was the summer, and now i find you sparring with a spear? You are that too? A demigoddes, i mean?"
I spoke fast, nervous, as if my time in the world with her would end just as it did once.
Instead of responding me right away, clarisse did something that maybe would scare every single soul she knew in the past years.
She hugged me. Hard.
Breathing me in, and not letting me go exactly as you would expect of someone who hasnt seen me in years.
"I couldnt tell you anything... it wouldnt be safe...im sorry, i missed my friend... i missed you."
I just looked at her for some seconds, and then hugged her again, this time i was the one making it extra tight, i was the one going insane by the reconforting smell of her shampoo, praying that she couldnt feel my heartbeats against her chest, and how strong they were.
"Just.. dont leave me again okay? And ill forgive you, i promisse"
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year ago
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about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.
word count: 3.2k
warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.
masterlist.
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The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised. 
Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand... 
You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening. 
Ahh, sisters. 
Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock. 
“What time is it?” You asked softly.
“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”
Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before. 
He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly. 
“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.
“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.” 
“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours." 
“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”
“You sure?”
“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”
“It’s Christmas. People travel.”
“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.
You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today." 
"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?
"I think you'll be fine."
"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”
You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."
"I would believe that," he said softly. 
"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.
"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.
"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy." 
"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."
You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time. 
“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…” 
“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole. 
"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”
“Confident of you, don’t you think?”
“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”
“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”
He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world. 
"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.” 
“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled. 
“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times. 
The one per cent, he’s told you once before. 
You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.
“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."
“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable). 
“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again. 
These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.
"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound." 
That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him. 
Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious. 
He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.
He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.” 
You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”
“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.” 
“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him. 
“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”
"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it. 
Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip. 
“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”
Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?” 
You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.” 
Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."
"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time. 
"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.  
"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging. 
Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.
It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start. 
But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up. 
Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.
"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were. 
"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”
Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come. 
“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”
“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts. 
He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.
“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.
“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.
“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow. 
“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”
“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.
“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him. 
“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it. 
A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.
“You want eggs?”
“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”
“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too. 
Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no. 
582 notes · View notes
yanderefarm · 14 days ago
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yandere merman x reader
cw;; blood, injury, drowning mention
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the waves crash like thunder against the rocky shore of your lighthouse, in the sky it seems like the gods themselves are raging as another bolt of lightning rips through the clouds. the gods would have every right to bring their fury down on you right now and maybe once you put the last stitch in you'll be struck dead where you stand.
about an hour ago before the storm really hit your brother's fishing boat docked and he beelined to your home. he and his men carrying a tub with the most beautiful creature you had ever seen inside. a mermaid that looked dead if not on the brink, its body bloodied by their equipment and a far more deadly cut along its stomach. "can you save it?" your brother had pleaded like he hadn't been the one to commit the sin. you grabbed your first aid kit and went to work, carefully sewing up the mermaid's deeper cuts. you gently washed and bandaged a shark bite buried in his shoulder while you were at it. and as you were about to put your first aid kit away he woke up.
it all happened in a blur. first the mermaid woke up and promptly panicked. then in his panic he attacked you. your brother and his friends hearing the sound ran into the room to find the mermaid with a knife to your neck. the creature, desperate to return to the water slammed his body into the window until it broke and you two dropped into the rocky depths below. you were now being held tightly in the merman's grip as he swam against the current deeper into the ocean.
you were certain that either the waves or the lack of oxygen would be your death but it didn't come. the merman held you tight all the way into a cave. only letting you go after he had made sure everything was safe. he force fed you some kind of glowing seaweed and finally you felt yourself feel a little bit calmer. things were finally relaxed.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT???" you shouted at your kidnapper. the merman growled back at you.
"shut up human. you're a healer, yes? heal." he laid back against the cave walls and showed you where one of his cuts had reopened. he was lucky all of them hadn't. it looked like he'd hit some rocks when his body had hit the waves because he had a few bruises along his tail and around his cut.
you let out a heavy sigh. "i left my first aid kit back at my house on land."
despite that you still swam over to him and gently touched the wound. the merman growled again, scowling at you.
"there's probably some kind of bandage you use down here right? let me try to find-"
"dont leave." his voice was serious and angry and he had a bruising grip on your arm.
"you're my prey." he growled again. "give me a moment to rest then we will go to my home."
you could already tell arguing with him was a bad idea.
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koosluvss · 23 days ago
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01: the world was on fire and no one could save me but you
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series m.list
—hii guys!! im sorry for leaving you guys for idk how long but im back and I swear I won’t leave you guys like that again! im super exited to let you guys read this piece because it’s literally based on one of my favorite songs. please if you have any questions or requests feel free to send them and I’ll answer! thank you and enjoy wicked game :)
warnings :: mature language (that’s it I think)
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alone.
that’s how i’ve been waking up for the past month and a half
I open my eyes as the dim light that peeps through the flimsy curtains greet my eyes
I get up and start my day by dragging myself out of my bed and to the bathroom. starting the day as I once did yesterday and the day before. I get out of my pajamas and step into my shower. Looking at the blank wall of the shower I zone out and think of what’s going to be different today
When I finish taking my shower I wrap a towel around my frame before I step out of the shower. I grabbed my toothbrush from the holder as I saw the second untouched toothbrush that was once used by him. quickly I grabbed it and threw it in the small trash that was next to my sink. well there goes my fucking day. I should’ve thrown everything he owned away the second he left
I finished brushing my teeth and washing my face before I step out and pick out an outfit for the day. I quickly got changed before I heard a little chime from my phone
soyeon[10:27AM]: hey babe! are you ready for our date?
soyeon[10:27AM]: i hope you know that i'm gonna spoil you today, so be ready 😈
I smile down at my phone before i respond to her
me[10:28AM]: don’t worry i’ve been preparing myself for what’s about to come, i know how you are
I placed my phone down next to me before I finished doing my hair and put a little bit of makeup on. I go to my kitchen and eat a little snack before I hear someone knock on my door. I grab my bag and walk towards the door opening it and i'm greeted with the view of an overly excited soyeon looking like she’s about to explode if we dont leave to the mall right now
“woah soyeon, you can relax i swear the mall won’t run away from us” I said laughing a bit as I step outside of my apartment and shut the door behind me
“____, babe, you don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting to finally have a girls day with you again! ughhh it’s been killing me!” she said giving me a small pout before grabbing my arm and we walking to her car
“I hope you don’t think that you’re good at hiding your feelings and emotions soyeon, I can read you like a fucking book” I said as we both laughed before she pulls out of the parking lot and starts to drive away to the mall
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“you’d look so hot in this oh my god!” soyeon said squealing at me before she held a little white dress up to my body, “please ___, you have to get this,for me, get it for me!”
“where would I even wear this soyeon?” I said giggling at the way she has no care how she looks literally begging me in the middle of this random store in the mall to buy a silly little dress
“i don’t know, maybe to a house party, ouu! what about a date?”
damn.
the smile on my face falters for a second before I took the dress from her hand and nodded. soyeon looked at my face and she quickly grew aware of what she had just said
“shit, im sorry ____.. I didn’t know you were still hurt by-“
“i’m not.” I quickly said, “i’m not, I swear I got over him”
“____ you guys were together for three years, it’s been a month feelings don’t go away just like that babe..”
“no it’s okay soyeon, you know I just don’t want to talk about him, it’s all in the past” I gave her a quick smile before I told her I’d go and try on the dress she gave me.
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after a few shops we both decided to sit down and eat for a while because the only thing I ate all day was the little snack I had before I left in the morning
“that looks good, wanna try that?” I said pointing to the sushi restaurant in the mall, the smell of the fresh food made its way to my nose quite literally causing me to levitate cause of how heavenly it smells
soyeon laughed at how I was looking at the food and nodded before we walked to the small restaurant. we got sat in a booth and I quickly started to look through the menu. damn there were so many good options to choose from
“hey, not to freak you out or anything but there’s a guy behind you who looks like if he doesn’t go and talk to you now he may lose it..” she said giggling before taking a sip of the water our server gave to us when they sat us down
“you’re kidding..”
“no! go and look for yourself” she said flashing me a toothy grin as she continued to giggle to herself
I turn my head a bit trying to act cool and not make it so obvious that i'm looking back. soyeon is right there is a man looking. he’s cute. he looks tall, around 6’0? he has short brown hair and soft features. I see him walk up to our table and and looks down at me with a soft smile
“hey, I’m so sorry to interrupt, it’s just you’re really beautiful and I was wondering if I can get your number? ah, im dohyun by the way!” he said as he then looked at soyeon and offered her a quick nod hello. soyeon looks as if she’s gonna piss herself, her eyes are beaming with joy
“hi dohyun, I’m ____, oh and uhm s-sure my number is……”
I gave him my number and we both said bye before he walked back to his table before his friends hit him playfully on the shoulder as he had a smile on his lips
“what the fuck just happened!” soyeon said tapping her feet to the ground excitedly and I let out a little laugh
“did you see that?”
“I saw that! girl he’s so cute you’re so lucky!” she said teasingly before we both heard a chime come from my phone
xxx-xxx[1:29PM]: hey it’s dohyun :)
soyeon and I both look up at eachother with huge grins on our face before I type back
me[1:30PM]: hey dohyun, it’s ____”
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it’s been about four hours since soyeon dropped me off from the mall and I’ve been texting dohyun since then. it’s fun. I forgot how texting someone like this was
dohyun[5:47PM]: hey, are you busy?
me[5:50PM]: nah i'm just doing a little bit of work, wbu?
dohyun[5:51PM]: same, it’s just you’re all I can think of and it’s driving me crazy
woah.
I felt like a teenage getting texts from their crush all over again. I rolled on my stomach and kicked my feet back and fourth as I screamed into one of the pillows on my bed
me[5:53PM]: really?
dohyun[5:53PM]: really
dohyun[5:54PM]: hey i just wanted to ask if next Saturday you’d like to go out with me? that’s if you’re not busy of course
a date?
oh my god, a date!
me[5:55PM]: yeah of course! I’d love to :)
the rest of the night went by with small conversations over text with dohyun. this felt nice, warm, yet something inside me felt like it was holding me back but I just didn’t know what
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“you’re joking, did he ask you?” soyeon asked shoving another piece of popcorn in her mouth while looking at me
“no soyeon, she’s only said it about one hundred fucking times” taehyung said throwing a pillow at her before she threw it back at him, hitting his in his face
“fuck you bitch”
“you wish” he said laughing at her irritated face
“yes soyeon he asked me on a date. im excited I just don’t know what to wear” I said scratching my arm nervously as I looked down at my sweatpants
it’s currently Wednesday and soyeon, taehyung, and I have all decided to have a little hang out and my place like we used to do almost every month with jungkook
jungkook.
“what about that dress soyeon forced you to try on when you guys went shopping last week?” taehyung said taking a sip of his beer before placing it back down the coffee table in front of us
“ouu, yes wear that one, I told you you look so fucking good in it, dohyu won’t know what hit him!”
“first of all his name is dohyun, second of all the place he’s taking me is like a picnic, I don’t think I should wear that type of dress to this date” I said biting the inside of my cheek
“first of all not my man, second of all I think you’re right, what about a pair of jeans and that cute top I bought you for your birthday last year? the one with flowers on the collar”
“that would be cute!” taehyung said smiling at me
“why thank you!” soyeon said fluttering her eyelashes at him
“not you, the fucking out fit you ugly ass troll” Tae said with a disgusted look on his face
I giggled as I watched them bicker for the rest of the night
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I walked into the little café that was near the flower shop I worked at. I’ve been hearing a bunch of good reviews from customers so I decided I wanted to try it out. the second I stepped in the smell of fresh baked goods made its way to my senses. so far so good. I went up to the cashier and ordered a chocolate strawberry croissant and a coffee.
I sat down at a small table near the window and I saw the breathtaking view. the café was near an area with lots of trees and flowers. the window showed a beautiful sunset behind the natural view.
I got up to go and get my order and I sat back down. I took a bite out of my croissant and immediately fell in love with the taste. The chocolate melted on my tongue and the bread was so warm. I enjoyed my food and coffee before I got up and threw my trash away. right when I was about to leave I accidentally bumped into a hard chest. I looked up as I was about to apologize and stopped in my tracks.
“____?”
“jungkook?”
I said a quick sorry and started walking away but he grabbed me by my wrists stopping me from moving any further
“wait ____, please can we talk?” he asked, his voice laced with sadness
“I have to be somewhere jungkook, please let me go..” I said as I felt a ache in my chest that I haven’t felt since I saw him leave a month ago
“____ please..” he said sounding as if he was about to start crying “please ____…i-i need to talk to you”
“jungkook please let me go” I said, still not turning to look at him. I felt his grip on my wrist loosen and I walked away. tears brimmed my eyes and threatened to spill out but I was able to walk to my car and I just sat there
why.
he messed this up.
why does he want to make this more difficult?
I pulled out of the parking lot and drove home. I tried to forget about him but I just couldn’t. why is it that after trying so hard to move on I just can’t get him out of my head?
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—Hope you guys likes the first part, I can’t wait to release all the other parts please stay tuned 🩵
—koosluvss
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