#i love mother but she never accepted that her father is gone so it's not like necraloid could talk about that with her

[elizabeaufort]

⸻ Elizabeth wishes she could forgive her mother the same way she accepted her father. The truth is she could not force herself to change overnight. It is too kind of her own part, to allow this woman to talk to her, and be present in her life again. It was funny, that Claude never talked about his wife when she left them. In fact, he let his own daughter make her own opinion about her mother. ⏤ Her grey-bluish hues met her gaze again. The younger Aussie still finds it suspicious that her mother is back after all those years. Either, she is giving the benefit of the doubt… Interesting. ❛ We have plenty of time together until you flee again. ❜ She doesn't know how long her mother plans to stay, no matter what the woman says, she still won't believe it.

The financial topic… The truth is the younger blonde is a bit detached from material things. She contents with small, perhaps because all her life or the beginning of it, she had had nothing. And she went through a lot of financial struggles. One could get used to a life of comfort easily, meanwhile, Liz was taking time to adjust to a life of luxury. ❛ People didn't judge because you were older to start over? ❜ She inquired quietly, curious to know how she handled it. In truth, Elizabeth wasn't so sure if she had the patience to back to her studies, and mixed with unsure about what she truly wanted to do. Perhaps, it was the main reason why she wanted to avoid this topic.

She loves arts, singing, dancing, and acting… Having the little family she has makes things a bit complicated. ⏤ The question about her father, caught her a bit off guard. Worry as she may be for her own father's sanity ( the one he lacks, truth be told ) . ❛ After you were gone, Papa started to drink even more and use other things. He didn't have another child. In a way, he isolates himself from people, even me. I met a few women, but I supposed it was his one-night stands. He spent too much time with his plants. It was kind of rare to see him with other women. He never brought them home. He used to call his friends. Sometimes, his best friend used to take me out to stay with him when Papa wasn't doing great. He would give me cookies and milk, and let me watch cartoons on his TV. Sometimes UFC.❜ She explained, a little of a glimpse of how everything begins to go south.

Liz in part blames her mother for her father's loss of once and all his sanity. There were things in her father's past he didn't share. She tried to pry, but he would never say anything. ❛ I'm sorry about that. ❜ The younger blonde refers to being trapped in an unhappy marriage.

──the question shouldn’t surprise her, they have only just started to get to know one another and it is only expected Lizzie will have questions, perhaps still some residue hostility towards her, too, despite choosing to allow her to be in her life and get to know her after all those years of her being absent.

“for you…” she nodded, faintly, reaching out to tuck a golden lock behind her ear, offering a weak smile. it wasn’t a lie; she had thought of her Lizzie, of how she would have been a better mother to her if money had never been an issue —but she had always blamed Claude for the outcome and her running away; there had been times she had caught herself thinking of him too while looking at her second husband, but she wasn’t ever going to admit that. she shook her head. “don’t worry, we have a lot of such talks to have and you need time to get to know me,” her hand fell by her side as her daughter averted her eyes. “and I, you, of course…” which, didn’t seem unlikely, not given how they were able to chat like they had been friends before and now they were catching up; sharing their news and latest gossips, the important events of heir lives.

as the topic shifted to financial matters, which is always a sensitive topic for Stella given her love for material things, as well as money on its own, she made sure to advise her daughter properly —excitement could cloud her judgment, as it had once happened to her, and she didn’t want her to regret a decision because it would cause financial insecurity and struggles; even if she was willing to help her. but she accepted her daughter’s limit and decided not to press further than what Liz was comfortable with. especially not in regards to what she wanted to do in terms of working and being independent. “it’s never too late, is all I want to say,” she added in a soft tone. “I went back to university a year after leaving from here, and I was already almost in my thirties.” the difference was that she didn’t have any kids back at home, and Liz would soon have four of them —still, should she want to, she could make it work.

“did Claude have any other kids?” had he been in a long-term relationship with another? she wanted to ask, but didn’t; she wouldn’t allow her curiosity to take the best of her. “I never had another child,” she smiled, weakly, “and I am glad because I had loathed my second husband.” it was only fair to give her daughter a little glimpse into her past, too, just as she had opened up to her about hers.

[xeilon]

Real Loid this NecraLoid is the true Loid that, consider: The two of them bickering with each other until they realize that the end of the day they are the same person who was terribly hurt by Albrecht's and/or Wally's schemes and decide to put their differences aside and start to heal.

Human!Loid get's to know the Entrati family, Otak, the Tenno, things that shaped Nekraloid into the Cephalon he is today, comes to face the fact that while for him Albrecth departure was just moments ago this 'construct' had to live through ages without the most solid point in his life, his 'Master'.

While Nekraloid realizes that he can look up to Albrecth as much as he wants it won't change the fact that he was/is hurt by him and that being a Cephalon doesn't mean that he can't feel it just means that he has to deny it.

I want them to get along and heal together, and for Necraloid to not just be a 'construct' or a 'companion' but a friend and someone who truly understands what it's like to live in the world that Albrecth left behind, and I want Human Loid to be the person to Necraloid who finally understands what it was like to not 'just' love Albrecth but also accept that he is gone.

[goldfades]

LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBT──FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW (part 2)

part one!!

for this request!!

─ summary | a week after megan caught you and father charlie, higher-ranking members of the church summon both of you for a stern warning. they threaten severe consequences—not just losing your positions, but eternal damnation—if you don't end your affair, and though you try to stay composed, charlie's anger flares as he refuses to accept their condemnation

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader

─ word count | 5.3k

─ warnings | pretty angsty + dramatic but has a happy ending, forbidden love, descriptions of having a big family. also wanted to put out there that this in no way shape or form trying to depict the church as something bad, every church is different and this is just fictional and very self-indulgent.

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! this was super self indulgent and i swear i say that every time but it's true. the happy ending was sorta like... my happy ending LMAO but i just wanted them to end up together. this was super fast paced (ik... 5k words and """fast paced""") but if u read it, you'll know what i mean.

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

Father Charlie’s face is pale, his eyes wide with fear as the weight of what just happened begins to settle between you. The churchyard, once a sanctuary, now feels like a trap. You stand there, unable to move, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Megan—” you try to call out, your voice catching in your throat, but she’s already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the church.

Father Charlie turns to you, his hand trembling as he runs it through his hair. “This… this can’t get out. It’ll ruin everything,” he says, his voice breaking under the pressure. He paces, eyes darting toward the church doors as if expecting Megan to reappear any moment with a crowd of witnesses.

Your chest tightens. You know what’s at stake—the life you’ve both built within the church, the delicate balance of your roles, the unspoken rules you’ve crossed. There’s no undoing what’s been done.

“I didn’t mean—” you begin, but he cuts you off, stepping closer, his hands gripping your arms with desperate intensity.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice urgent. “I should have never let it get this far. But Megan… she can’t know. No one can know.”

You nod, but the truth gnaws at you. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness. The kiss—the feelings behind it—have been building for longer than you want to admit. And now that the barrier has been broken, there’s no pretending you can go back to how things were.

“What if she tells?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

Father Charlie’s eyes meet yours, his face full of guilt and something else, something darker—a simmering fear. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You’ve never seen him like this, so cornered, so desperate. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve unleashed something in him that can’t be controlled.

“I have to fix this,” he mutters more to himself than to you, already starting to move toward the church, determination in his stride. “Go home. Don’t come back until I say it’s safe.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no room for discussion. The weight of your guilt, mingled with fear, presses heavy on your chest as you turn and leave, knowing that the fragile world you both clung to is about to shatter.

As you walk away from the church, the echoes of the kiss linger on your lips, but now they taste bitter—haunted by the knowledge that you’ve crossed a line you can never uncross. And Megan, with her watchful eyes, has seen it all.

The walk from the church feels impossibly long, every step weighed down by the suffocating pressure of what’s just transpired. The once-bright sky has dimmed into muted shades of twilight, the air thick with impending doom. You can feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The churchyard, so familiar and comforting just moments ago, now seems cold, distant—like it’s pushing you away.

You glance back once, just once, and catch sight of Charlie disappearing into the stone walls of the church. His movements are hurried, frantic, and it only makes the knot in your stomach tighten. You know he’s going to confront Megan. You know he’ll do everything in his power to convince her to stay silent, to protect both of you, but the seed of doubt has already taken root. What if she doesn’t listen? What if Megan has already spread word of what she saw?

The fear claws at your insides.

You replay the moment over and over in your mind—the kiss, the way his lips had pressed against yours with a hunger that had long been suppressed, the heat of his body against yours. It was more than a moment of weakness; it was the culmination of everything you had been hiding, everything you’d tried to bury under the weight of duty. You had always known there was something between you and Charlie, but you had told yourself it was nothing, that it could never be anything more than unspoken glances and the occasional brush of hands. But now, the truth is undeniable.

You love him.

And it terrifies you.

As you turn the corner, moving further away from the church and deeper into the quiet streets, you try to suppress the panic building inside you. You force yourself to breathe, slow and steady, even as the thought of what comes next twists and knots in your chest. Megan… she had seen everything. Her eyes, wide with shock and something close to betrayal, flashed in your mind like a warning. She would never understand. She couldn’t. To her, this wasn’t just a mistake or a lapse in judgment—it was blasphemy, a defilement of everything sacred.

You walk faster, as if the distance could somehow cleanse you of what just happened, but the weight of your sins follows you, heavy and unrelenting. By the time you reach your small, modest home, the last of the daylight is gone. The darkness feels fitting, like a cloak draped over the truth you’re so desperate to hide.

You fumble with the key, your hands trembling, and push open the door. Inside, the space feels too small, too confining. The walls close in around you, suffocating in their familiarity. You collapse onto the nearest chair, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what comes next.

You think of Megan again, the way she had slipped away so quickly, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. What had she seen? How much had she heard? Would she go to the elders? To the congregation? Your stomach churns at the thought of everyone knowing, their judgmental eyes stripping you bare, seeing you for what you truly are—a sinner. You can already picture the looks, the whispers that would follow, the way they’d turn on you. And Charlie—God, what would happen to him? His role as a priest, his entire life, would be torn apart if this got out.

You can’t let that happen.

But no matter how much you try to focus, your thoughts keep pulling back to him. To the way he looked at you in those moments after Megan had fled. His face, pale with fear, but his eyes… they had been filled with something more than just panic. There had been a tenderness there, a quiet desperation, as if he had wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words had been lost in the gravity of the situation. And now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, one that neither of you can cross until you know what Megan will do.

The hours stretch on in painful silence. You sit by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with dread. Every sound, every rustle of wind, makes you jump, half-expecting someone to come knocking at your door, to drag you back to the church and expose your sin to the world. But no one comes. The night is as still as your breath, suspended in an unbearable waiting.

You wonder how Charlie is faring. Is he talking to Megan right now? Is he pleading with her, trying to make her understand? Or is it too late—has she already made up her mind? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each minute that passes feeling like an eternity.

The quiet is suddenly interrupted by a soft knock at the door. You freeze, your heart stopping for a beat, your blood running cold. For a moment, you can’t move, can’t breathe. Then, slowly, you rise from the chair, your body moving on instinct. You approach the door with trembling hands, every step echoing like a drumbeat in the stillness of the house.

When you open it, Charlie stands on the other side.

His face is pale, his eyes dark and sunken, as though he’s aged years in the span of a few hours. His expression is grim, but beneath the weariness, there’s something else—something raw, something desperate. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him, and the weight of everything that’s happened settles between you.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. His hands are shaking, and you notice the way he clenches them into fists, trying to steady himself. “She’s not going to tell anyone,” he finally says, but his voice is hollow, and you know that’s not the whole story.

You take a step closer, searching his face for answers. “What did you say to her?”

Charlie’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of something dark in them—something you haven’t seen before. “I made sure she understood,” he says, but there’s no relief in his voice. No victory. Only guilt.

Your stomach tightens as his words sink in. You want to believe him, to trust that everything will be okay now, but the look in his eyes tells you that nothing will ever be the same. Not between you. Not between him and the church. And certainly not between him and Megan.

The silence stretches on, thick and heavy with unspoken truths, and you realize that whatever you thought you were protecting has already been lost. The kiss, the secret moments, the connection between you and Charlie—it’s all unraveling, piece by piece, and there’s no going back now.

You don’t know what he did. And you’re not sure you want to.

All you know is that something has shifted between you, and the fragile world you’ve built together is starting to crack.

“I… I couldn’t let her ruin this,” he says, his voice low and almost pleading. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s a rawness to his words, a vulnerability that you’ve never seen in him before, and it makes the knot in your throat tighten. “Charlie,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No,” he says, his voice firmer now, more certain. “You need to hear this. I love you.” The words hang between you, heavy and full of meaning. His eyes search yours, as though he’s terrified of what your response might be, but at the same time, there’s a conviction in him that tells you he’s been holding onto this for far too long.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world falls away. The fear, the uncertainty, the guilt—it all fades into the background, and all that’s left is the truth. He loves you.

And God help you, you love him too.

“I love you, too,” you finally say, the words slipping out in a rush, like a dam breaking. The weight of them is staggering, but also freeing, as though admitting it has somehow lifted the burden from your chest.

Charlie’s eyes soften, and in that moment, the darkness, the fear, everything that’s been hanging over you both seems to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, stolen moment.

He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, then your temple, and finally, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s tender, sweet, and laced with the kind of love that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. For a few precious seconds, you allow yourself to get lost in him—the warmth of his body, the way his hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile and precious. There’s no guilt in this kiss, no shame. Just love.

But as sweet as it is, there’s still a bitter edge, the reminder of what’s been lost. The weight of what happened earlier, of Megan’s watchful eyes, lingers like a shadow over your joy. You pull back slightly, your heart aching as you search his face for reassurance.

“What are we going to do?” you ask, the question heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Charlie lets out a soft sigh, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The simplicity of his words settles over you, warm and comforting, but the reality of the situation isn’t so easily dismissed. You know the risks, the consequences that loom over both of you like a dark cloud, but right now, in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, it feels like you can face anything.

He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as though he’s savoring the closeness, the peace that you’ve found in each other, if only for this fleeting moment. “I don’t care what happens,” he whispers. “As long as I have you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of happiness and sorrow, because you know that this love—the love you’ve both fought so hard to deny—is as beautiful as it is dangerous. The church, the life you’ve built, the faith that has defined you for so long—it all stands in opposition to what you feel for each other. And yet, here you are, standing on the precipice, ready to fall.

“I’m scared,” you admit softly, your voice trembling.

Charlie pulls you tighter against him, his breath warm against your skin. “So am I,” he confesses, his voice breaking just a little. “But I won’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”

You stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet, in the shared heartbeat that thumps in time with your own. For once, it feels like you’re not fighting against the world, but standing together, ready to face whatever comes next.

But the bitterness still lingers, a quiet reminder that nothing about this is simple. The danger hasn’t passed, and Megan’s silence, though promised, may not last forever. You both know that this moment—this love—comes with a cost.

Still, for now, you allow yourself to hold on to the sweetness of it, to the warmth of his embrace, and the knowledge that whatever happens next, you won’t face it alone.

───

The bells toll, echoing through the towering walls of the old church, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. Parishioners, still murmuring prayers under their breath, make their way toward the grand double doors, their heads dipped in reverence. The air is thick with incense, mingling with the faint scent of candle wax, and the murmured conversations of the faithful filter out as they depart.

You stand by the altar, adjusting your habit, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over you. It had been a week since the kiss—since Megan’s eyes had caught the forbidden moment. You and Father Charlie had been careful, the tension between you palpable but unspoken. There was no room for slip-ups now, not with what was at stake.

But just as you turn to head back toward the sacristy, you notice something that sends a chill through you. A group of clergy—men dressed in higher clerical vestments, their expressions stern and unyielding—are making their way toward the two of you. The archbishop, Father Lucian, leads them, his presence commanding and severe, a man of high standing in the church, second only to the bishop himself. Behind him are two more senior priests, Father Augustine and Monsignor Ramos, known for their strict adherence to church doctrine.

Charlie stands frozen for a moment, his usual calm demeanor stiffening as he recognizes the gravity of what’s about to happen. His eyes meet yours briefly, and in that split second, you both know. They know.

Father Lucian stops in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. His face is impassive, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating, filled with judgment and a quiet, simmering disappointment. The silence stretches on, unbearable, until finally, he speaks.

“Father Charles,” Lucian’s voice is deep and resonant, cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Mother Y/N. We need to speak.”

Charlie straightens, his jaw set in that familiar stubborn way, but his eyes flicker with something darker—anger, perhaps, or fear. You step closer to him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“We’ve been made aware of certain… transgressions,” Father Lucian continues, his voice cold, deliberate. “Ones that go against the very foundation of your vows—vows of purity, of dedication to God and His teachings.”

Father Charlie’s hands tighten into fists at his sides, though he doesn’t say anything yet. His silence, however, feels like the calm before a storm.

“We’ve heard unsettling rumors,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice carrying a softer, but no less menacing tone. “Of inappropriate closeness between the two of you. Intimacies that have no place within these sacred walls.”

Your stomach drops, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too stifling. The weight of their accusation presses against your chest, suffocating.

Father Augustine steps forward, his eyes sharp with accusation. “You both took vows before God,” he says, his voice unwavering. “To forsake earthly temptations for a higher calling. But what we’ve witnessed… it is not the first time such weakness has crept into the church. We cannot allow it to continue.”

You want to speak, to defend yourself, but your throat tightens, and words fail you. Beside you, Charlie’s breathing grows heavier, his anger barely contained.

“If you do not end this… affair immediately,” Father Lucian says, his voice dropping, “there will be consequences far worse than dismissal. You will not only lose your positions here, but you will face the eternal damnation of your souls. Your actions are not just a violation of church law but of God’s law. Do you understand?”

The implications hit you like a blow—hell. They’re threatening you with eternal punishment.

Father Charlie, who had remained silent until now, suddenly takes a step forward, his voice trembling with anger. “And who are you,” he says, his voice low but dangerous, “to tell us about the state of our souls?”

The senior clergy exchange glances, surprised at his defiance. But Charlie continues, his voice growing stronger. “Yes, we broke our vows. But this—what we feel—it's not some… sinful temptation. It’s love. And I won’t stand here and let you condemn us without knowing what’s in our hearts.”

Father Lucian’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, the tension is palpable. “Father Charles, you forget your place,” he says coldly. “This is not a matter of love. It is a matter of duty. Of obedience. You swore your life to God, not to your desires.”

“I didn’t swear my life to a prison,” Charlie snaps, his voice shaking with fury. “I swore my life to serve God, to care for people. But you—you’d rather see us as sinners than as human beings.”

“Father Charles,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice hardening, “you are speaking out of turn.”

“No,” Charlie interrupts, turning to you, his hand reaching for yours without hesitation. “I’m speaking the truth. I won’t let you use God as a weapon to control us.”

Your hand grips his tightly, and despite the cold sweat trickling down your spine, you feel an odd sense of strength radiating from him. The threat of hellfire lingers in the air, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel so terrifying with him standing beside you.

Father Lucian’s gaze hardens, his lips thinning into a severe line. “This is your final warning. End this now, or face the consequences.”

Charlie stares back at him, unwavering. “I’d rather face hell,” he says softly, “than live a lie.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of his words hanging between you and the clergy like a challenge. They stand, frozen for a moment, taken aback by his refusal. The unspoken threat remains—hell, ruin, the dismantling of everything you’ve both worked for.

But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel afraid. You look at Charlie, his face set in defiance, and something inside you shifts. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, but it’s also the beginning of something else—something true, something worth fighting for.

The silence stretches unbearably in the cold churchyard, the tension thick as a storm building on the horizon. The senior clergy stare at Charlie, their expressions hard, almost disbelieving that he’s standing against them. Father Lucian’s eyes narrow further, but his voice remains steady, with a chilling authority.

“You are not beyond redemption,” he says, the words deliberate, cutting. “But defiance will not save you from the consequences of your actions. Think carefully before you decide to sacrifice everything—your calling, your salvation—for something so… fleeting.”

Charlie’s grip tightens around your hand. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His next words, however quiet, carry an unshakable resolve. “I’ve already decided. I won’t live a life of half-truths. If that’s what it takes to serve God here, then I’ll find my own way.”

Father Augustine inhales sharply, looking between you and Charlie with something resembling disappointment—or perhaps disdain. “This will not go unpunished,” he mutters, his tone cold and unyielding. “There are consequences for every action, Father Charles. You’ve been warned.”

Without another word, the three clergymen turn on their heels and leave, their footsteps echoing ominously against the stone floor of the church. The weight of their warning lingers, even after they disappear into the distance.

You and Charlie stand there, unmoving, his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. The tension in his body slowly ebbs, though his grip remains firm, as if he’s grounding himself in this moment, in you. The sky above is clear, but there’s a storm brewing, one you can’t ignore any longer.

“Charlie…” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustling of leaves in the courtyard. “What are we going to do?”

He exhales deeply, his shoulders dropping as he turns to face you fully. His eyes search yours, filled with the same mixture of love and uncertainty that’s been building between you since that night in the church. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now, the fire from before replaced with a gentle resignation. “But I know I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You feel the same pull in your chest, the same conflicted desire that’s been tearing you apart. Everything you’ve built within the church, every vow you’ve taken—it’s all crumbling around you. But Charlie… he’s the one thing that still feels real, the one person you’ve come to rely on, to love in ways you never expected.

“I can’t lose you either,” you admit, your throat tight, emotions swirling in a confusing blur. “But they’re right… If we keep going like this, it won’t just be losing our positions. It’ll be worse.”

Charlie’s gaze darkens for a moment, as if weighing the enormity of it all. He steps closer, lifting his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a tender, almost reverent motion. “I know the risks,” he says, his voice steady, filled with an unshakable determination. “But the risk of not having you in my life… that’s worse.”

You close your eyes at his touch, leaning into the warmth of his hand. His words wrap around your heart, pulling you closer to the edge of something you can’t take back.

───

The decision had been made in a heartbeat, almost too quickly for either of you to process. One moment, you were standing in the courtyard, exchanging quiet promises of love and loyalty; the next, you were both packing your modest belongings in a small room that had been your sanctuary for years.

Charlie’s movements were hurried but deliberate, his usual calm demeanor now laced with an urgency that mirrored your own. You threw robes and personal items into a small bag, your heart pounding as the reality of your situation sank in.

“We can’t stay here,” he had said, his voice shaking with conviction. “Not after that. If we don’t leave now, they’ll find a way to tear us apart.”

You agreed, knowing deep down that the church, once a symbol of comfort and belonging, had become a prison. It wasn’t just Megan’s spying or the warnings from the senior clergy—it was everything. The suffocating weight of the vows, the whispered rumors, the constant feeling of being watched. You couldn’t breathe here anymore.

The room, usually filled with quiet prayer and reflection, was now buzzing with the frantic energy of departure. Charlie stopped for a moment, watching you from across the room. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you had rarely seen before. He came closer, brushing his hand across your cheek, tilting your chin so that you met his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “We’re leaving everything behind.”

You nodded, heart pounding, but with a certainty that surprised even you. “I’m sure. I can’t stay here, Charlie. Not without you. Not like this.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the moment, as if holding on to this fragile piece of certainty before everything crumbled.

“We’ll be alright,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way. Together.”

You smiled, a bittersweet knot forming in your chest. The thought of leaving everything you’d known was terrifying—but the thought of staying, of pretending, of hiding this love… that was worse.

A knock at the door startled you both, and your heart leapt in your chest. You turned to the door, half expecting to see Father Lucian or another member of the clergy, ready to drag you back into the suffocating confines of the church’s judgment.

But it was Megan.

Her eyes were wide, but there was something softer in her gaze now—something you hadn’t seen before. She hesitated in the doorway, her hand lingering on the knob as she looked between you and Charlie.

“I—I heard,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving?”

Charlie tensed beside you, but you took a step forward, your heart racing. “Megan… I know what you saw. I know what you think, but—”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “No. It’s not that. I—” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath, glancing at Charlie before continuing. “I’m not here to stop you. I just… I just wanted to say I understand. I don’t agree with it, but I understand why you’re doing this.”

You blinked, taken aback. Megan, the one who had spied on you, who had been so suspicious of your every move, was standing here, offering understanding. It felt surreal.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she added softly. “But if you’re really leaving, you need to go now. They’ll come looking for you.”

Charlie’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. You felt a rush of gratitude toward Megan, despite everything that had happened between you. Her warning, her silence—it was an unexpected act of kindness.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words feeling heavy with meaning.

She nodded once, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

You turned to Charlie, your breath catching in your throat. “It’s time.”

He nodded, his jaw set, determination burning in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Together, you walked out of the room, leaving behind the life you had known, the vows you had once believed in, and the future you had thought was certain. The church, once towering and holy, now felt like a distant memory as you stepped into the world beyond its gates.

You didn’t know what would come next—where you would go or what you would do—but with Charlie by your side, the fear didn’t seem quite as overwhelming. You had each other. And for now, that was enough.

EPILOGUE

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the rolling hills and fields that stretched beyond your front porch. The house you now called home sat nestled against a small grove of trees, a place you’d never imagined, yet somehow felt destined to find.

A soft breeze rustled through the open windows, carrying with it the distant laughter of children playing in the yard. You smiled, leaning against the wooden railing as you watched them—a picture of the life you had once dreamed of, now fully realized.

Two little girls, their dark curls bouncing in the breeze, were chasing after their younger brother, their giggles filling the air. They were so full of energy, so full of life. The kind of life you had longed for back when everything felt so suffocating, back when the idea of having a family seemed distant and impossible.

Behind you, the front door creaked open, and Charlie stepped out, two mugs of tea in his hands. His face, though older and more weathered now, still held that same softness that had always drawn you to him. He passed you a cup and wrapped an arm around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched the scene unfold before you.

You smiled, leaning into him, your heart swelling with contentment. This was the dream you had once shared with him, whispered between kisses when the future seemed so uncertain. But now, here it was—tangible, real. Your two daughters, as spirited and wild as you had imagined, and your son, a bundle of mischief with Charlie’s inquisitive nature.

You stood there in comfortable silence, watching as your eldest, a curious seven-year-old, tried to corral her younger siblings with all the seriousness of someone far beyond her years. The younger girl, barely five, kept bursting into fits of giggles, while your three-year-old son—always a handful—tumbled into the grass, quickly distracted by the dogs.

It was a far cry from the life you had left behind, from the cold stone walls of the church and the whispers of judgment. You had built this life together—away from the suffocating expectations, the prying eyes, and the fear. Out here, in this open space, you were free to be who you truly were, without shame, without fear of punishment.

Charlie turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re happy?”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “I am,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “I really am.”

He smiled, his eyes softening in the way they always did when he looked at you—filled with a love that had only grown stronger over the years. You still had your moments of doubt, of course—those nights when the past crept in, when the memory of everything you’d left behind tugged at your mind. But then you would look at him, at the children you had brought into the world, and it would all disappear.

Charlie pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the children’s laughter echoed through the evening air. The weight of the past had faded into something distant, something that didn’t define you anymore.

This was your future now—a family, a home filled with love and laughter. You had chosen this life, together, and it was better than any dream you had ever dared to hope for.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, your eldest daughter ran up to you, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama! Look what we found!”

She held up a small flower she had picked from the yard, and you crouched down to examine it, your heart swelling with pride at her joy over such a simple thing.

“It’s beautiful,” you told her, smoothing back a stray curl from her face.

She beamed, darting off again to join her siblings, and you stood back up, feeling Charlie’s presence beside you, steady and strong.

“Two daughters, a son, and two dogs,” he repeated softly, his voice filled with that same awe he always carried when he talked about your family. “You’ve always had the best dreams.”

You leaned into him, your fingers intertwined, as the last light of the day faded. “And you’ve always made them come true.”

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[louisupdates]

INTERVIEW: Lottie Tomlinson: we lost our mum and sister. Louis saved me

At the age of 20, the sister of One Direction singer Louis had already lost her mother, Johannah, and sister Félicité. Now 25, the social media star has written a book about how they coped

Alice Thomson | Tuesday July 23 2024, 5.00pm BST, The Times

Losing Mum was so hard. I was only a teenager but at least I knew that her death was a possibility, even though she didn’t accept it. She was 47 and had cancer. But when my sister died three years later, I was on this hotel balcony in Bali and I was screaming, ‘No, my baby sister, no.’ The pain was indescribable. I kept thinking, ‘Why me? This can’t be happening again. When is this going to end?’ ”

We are sitting on Lottie Tomlinson’s immaculate white sofa in her pristine white house in Chislehurst, southeast London, where she is curled up in tiny shorts with a perfect tan and impeccably applied make-up. But her French manicured nails are digging so hard into the sofa I think they might snap, the heart tattoo on her minuscule wrist is throbbing and her eyelashes are clogged with tears.

Her life sounds blessed. The influencer has 4.8 million Instagram followers waiting for her to dispense advice on how to apply mascara; the fake tan brand, Tanologist, that she launched at 19 has gone global; and she has a devoted fiancé, Lewis Burton, who runs a luxury concierge business and whose former girlfriend was the late Caroline Flack. They have an adorable son called Lucky, who is dripping ice cream on her marble counters. Her new book is also called Lucky Girl; her older brother is Louis Tomlinson of One Direction and she was touring the world with the band as a make-up artist at 16.

But after her mother died when she was 18, Tomlinson was left looking after her younger sister and two sets of twin siblings, aged eight and two, while creating her businesses, and trying to process her grief. Her father had left their home in Doncaster years before after a battle with alcohol. “Dad had a drinking problem. We’d see glimpses of his good side but he let us down,” she says. “I ended up trying to take care of him rather than the other way round.”

When her mother died, life felt bleak, “I lost the one person who loved me unconditionally, and then when my sister Fizz [Félicité] died of an accidental overdose, I thought I could never be happy again,” she says. “I found the lead-up to Mother’s Day devastating without my sister as well. It was a constant reminder that I was now different from my friends. In my dreams, my mum was still there; she was alive. I woke up feeling comforted, only to realise that she’d gone.”

Tomlinson, who is now 25 and a patron of the bereavement charity Sue Ryder, moves easily between telling you how to apply the best tan and how to talk about death. She cares passionately about both subjects and takes them equally seriously, worried that I’ve never tried a bronzer or used foundation before asking how I coped when my mother died during the pandemic. Her soft Yorkshire accent is both reassuring and no-nonsense.

Born near Doncaster, she was only two when Fizz was born and six when the first twins arrived. “I’ve always been the big sister — Fizz and I each got one and then more twins six years later.” While Louis had his own space, the girls all shared one room with bunk beds. “It was chaos, but my mum, Johannah, was a midwife and loved being pregnant and having so many babies,” she explains. “I used to be in awe of the way she could feed the twins at once, one on each hip. She would do the night shifts, while I held the fort at home.”

Within a few years, Tomlinson would be touring America, Asia and Europe, flying first class with Louis, part of the biggest boy band in the world, but until she was 15, the family had only ever gone to France once a year all packed into a seven-seater car, with her mother’s new partner, snacks laid out in the middle. They stayed in a caravan park. On a Sunday, a treat was to go to their mother’s hospital to see the babies.

While Louis just wanted to sing, play the guitar and listen to Oasis, the girls were obsessed with make-up. “From the age of 12, I struggled academically, but I loved cropped clothes and my mum’s highlighters and mascaras.” She learnt how to apply everything from YouTube tutorials, rather than doing algebra. “We didn’t have much money — we sometimes couldn’t afford to top up the electricity meter so used candles — but everything my mum earned she spent on us. We all looked immaculate — I remember her being horrified when I dyed my hair orange. So it was lovely later when we could treat her.”

Saturday nights were spent watching The X Factor. “My mother and brother kept applying; in 2010, he got in and the whole family went for the audition. We believed in him, but we never thought it would go that far.” One day the family were going to the live shows, the next the boy band was formed with Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan and Liam Payne. “He was 18. For my mum it was a big shock. It was all so sudden. The press and fans were in our front garden every day.”

The older twins had already made their first TV appearances — they sound like Doncaster’s Von Trapps. “My mother was gently pushy,” Tomlinson says, smiling at the thought. “When I didn’t get good enough GCSEs to stay at school, she sent me off to join Louis on tour as work experience. I was so scared. I remember her ringing up Lou [Teasdale], their hair and make-up artist, and saying, ‘Lottie has not got through to sixth form; she’s going to come and assist you.’ I was in the car going, ‘No, please don’t.’ But it ended up being the best thing that happened to me. I went for a week and stayed two years. Lou and I are still so close.”

Suddenly, the two eldest Tomlinson children were circling the world, eating room service and ducking the paparazzi hanging out of helicopters taking snaps. “At first Louis didn’t really want his little sister gate crashing his new rock-star life, but now it feels like the best time of our lives — we experienced that craziness together,” she says.

The teenage Tomlinson found it harder to cope with being photographed wherever she went. “I had some puppy fat which made me very self-aware, and the filler culture was coming in and I felt I had to look perfect.” She had her lips done first at 17. “Then I became addicted: cheek filler, jaw filler, more make-up, blonder hair, slimmer and more tanned. My mum thought I looked perfect, but I was always searching.”

Five years later, when she became pregnant with Lucky and her lips started to swell and crack, she realised she didn’t need the enhancements any more. “I had everything removed, the false eyelashes too. It was liberating.” She kept her boob job, however. “That was just enhancement,” she says laughing. “The rest radically changed the way I looked. My breasts also got huge when I was pregnant and it was a bit painful. But I still breastfed. I loved carrying my child. I felt fantastic even when I was sick and exhausted.”

She leans forward, wraps her bronzed arms around her stomach and whispers, “I am pregnant again. We don’t know yet if it’s a boy or girl. It’s only 13 weeks, so this is the first time I’ve said it publicly. I think I want a big family. I loved having Lucky but after a year I wanted to give him siblings.”

Tomlinson’s influencer career began once she established herself on tour. Soon everything she did, even dying her roots rainbow-coloured, went viral and fashion companies from Asos to Dior wanted in on it. “I was just going for it. I couldn’t believe the money I was making and spending — money I didn’t know existed as a child.”

Then suddenly her mum came home from holiday with flu. “She didn’t want to get out of bed. The doctors quite quickly told her she had leukaemia and she went straight to London for treatment. It all happened so fast. I remember being in London at work and getting a call from her partner — she couldn’t say the words herself, it was too hard for her.” The family were told it was treatable. “We kept so much hope.”

Her mother asked the family to keep her illness secret. “It was hard because you feel so isolated, but I understood. Louis was in the public eye and she didn’t want him questioned. She was determined to fight it and didn’t want everyone pitying her. My friends noticed I was acting differently for a few months. But I wanted to respect her wishes. It was her one request.”

She also dropped everything to go back to Doncaster to help her grandparents with the twins. “The younger ones were two and I wanted to keep everything as normal as possible. I can’t imagine what my mum was feeling leaving her kids to go to hospital.

“I would take them down and treasure seeing her — we tried to keep it light, no serious conversation. The only way Mum could cope was to keep it normal. Then, when the doctors said the transfusions hadn’t worked, she came home to die.”

Tomlinson tries to sound matter-of-fact. “We went to see her in hospital in Sheffield and the next morning we woke up and were told she had died. We felt numb. We didn’t know what to do with ourselves. Now I am involved with the Sue Ryder charity, I am surprised we were offered no support or counselling at all, from the GP, the teachers, the professionals. They all kept away.” Her nan and grandad picked up the pieces.

It’s not surprising she can’t remember the funeral. “I just remember getting really drunk to numb the pain. I couldn’t come to terms with it. I can’t even remember how we organised it. My instinct was to take over as the eldest girl and step into my mum’s shoes so that is what I did.” Meanwhile, her older brother, who was launching his solo career, ensured there was enough money. “He’s incredibly generous. We looked after each other.”

Tomlinson returned to London months later, after her grandmother said she needed to become a role model for her siblings. Her younger sister Fizz worried her most. “She was very academic — she got straight A’s without trying — but she always said she felt different. She was bottling her grief for so long; it was too much and made her turn to other things. I think Mum’s death destroyed her. Only my mum seemed to understand her. If she had been offered some help at the start, things might have been different.”

Meanwhile, Tomlinson’s self-tanning brand was soon being sold in Los Angeles, New York and Australia, while her own fanbase grew; she hardly ever needed to pay for drinks, meals or holidays. However, she finds the term influencer obnoxious. “I don’t want to act like I tell people what to do. I am more of a content creator,” she explains. “I get paid by brands to create content for their clothes or beauty products and promote that to my followers. I also wanted my own business. I was quite aware that, at the end of the day, I was just working with an app. That’s why I started Tanologist with my business partner. I was always using tanning treatments that would end up turning my sheets orange and my face would break out in spots — this is more natural.”

Louis was also forging his career as a solo artist, eventually creating the song Two of Us about his mother’s death. “We were always so proud of Louis and what he was doing. We were not going to match up to being a global superstar, but we didn’t want to — ‘successful’ looks different for everyone,” she says.

But her sister Fizz was slipping and struggling. “She was old enough to do what she wanted at 19; she was partying and taking stuff to numb everything. She did go into rehab but to me it didn’t feel like an addiction problem, but a way to blank out her grief.” When Tomlinson was invited to Bali, she asked Fizz whether she wanted her to stay behind. “She said she was OK, and then it happened while I was away,” she says. (Fizz accidentally overdosed on cocaine, an anxiety drug and painkillers, her inquest found.) “Louis called me…” She stops talking.

The shock of a second death must have been devastating. She doesn’t speak for a minute while she twists her huge diamond engagement ring. “We weren’t mentally prepared,” she eventually says. “I can’t even remember if the two funerals were in the same church. I think grief has affected my memory a lot and that’s quite common. Grief is such a powerful emotion; it takes up a lot of your brain.”

Five years later, she now knows how to remain positive. “I had an amazing mum for 18 years. I have the most amazing family, my little boy and my career, and that is because of her. The same with Fizz — I had an amazing sister. It’s heartbreaking they aren’t with us any more, but they are together and they are looking out for me,” she says, sounding as though she is repeating a mantra.

Having a baby made her feel closer to them both. “He was a boy — it’s funny, he actually looks a lot like Louis did — and I thought, this is what my mother must have felt. But then I had so many questions I couldn’t ask, even more because she was a midwife.”

Her biggest problem was her terror that something terrible would happen to her son. “I became fixated [on the idea that] something bad would happen to him, so I couldn’t sleep. You go to the worst-case scenario, because that’s happened to you twice, to two of the closest people in your life. I couldn’t turn the lights off at night; I needed to see him all the time. Luckily, it calmed down quite quickly.”

We are still flitting between her story and advice on make-up, exercise and clothes.

“I like sharing advice. If a child lost their mother, I would say there is no magic answer. But the point of this book is to show that you can have tragic things happen and still keep going.”

What would the 25-year-old now say to her younger self, struggling at her second funeral at the age of 20? “I would say, ‘You are going to be OK; you will live a nice life.’ I didn’t think I could. I thought this will be a really sad, lonely life without my mum and sister. I wouldn’t have believed then that I could be happy again. But it would have been nice to hear.”

Lucky Girl by Lottie Tomlinson (Bonnier, £22). To order a copy go to timesbookshop.co.uk. Free UK standard P&P on orders over £25. Special discount available for Times+ members

[apute11as]

I hate it when she makes you laugh ~ Leah Williamson x CEO!reader

Summary: You get a new assistant and let’s just say Leah isn’t very good at hiding her jealousy.

Warnings:⚠️ None i’m pretty sure :)

word count: 2032

Author note: Based on THIS request (so sorry it took so long) Also, Leah never did her ACL, Covid never happened.

————

You had inherited an investment firm from your late grandfather 3 years ago when you were just 21. You had turned the the small town business into a multi billion dollar company, earning you a lot of attention from magazines, social media and other people in the investment industry.

Your mother had passed away when you were 15 and it was her father that owned the company so when he died, it transferred directly to you.

Being in the position you were, meant that you met with and attended many events with A-list celebrities, some of them being athletes. That was how you’d first met Leah, the two of you bonded over your shared distaste for the food menu, both agreeing you’d much prefer some toast over the variety of fish on offer. You’d laughed, drank and danced together throughout the night before she invited you back to her apartment, an invite that you gladly accepted.

You woke up the next morning with a fluttery feeling in your chest and a familiar ache between your legs, that told you enough about your night. The two of you had met up constantly after that, although you both had busy schedules. You’d ended up meeting her teammates and parents after a month of dating and safe to say they loved you.

——

Now, 2 years later you were 24 and she was 26 and you’d been officially dating for almost two years now. Life was blissful, Arsenal had just recently come second in the WSL (something you’d decided was a good result, much to your girlfriend’s disagreement) and all was well.

As for your company, the recent incline of growth, your advisors had insisted you get an assistant. You’d assured them that it wasn’t necessary and would just be a waste of time but after some convincing you reluctantly agreed. The interviewing process to find one was tough. You’d gone through several applicants before finding the right

one (you were particular in your choices of company). After a gruelling process that took more several hours, you finally decided on an assistant. Ava was 21, fresh out of Uni and had little experience. Despite this, you saw some of your younger self in her, admired her ambition and also she could hold a somewhat interesting conversation. Many of the applicants lacked personality and motivation, they were robotic and boring.

With that being said, you hired her. She fit in well into your life, as you were very precise in your task doing and a control freak at heart, something she seemed to understand all to well, considering she’d prepared your weekly schedule perfectly on her first day. You came home that day a little earlier than normal due to Ava’s organisational habits, surprising your girlfriend with the rarity of a home cooked meal on a weekday. The two of you discussed your new assistant over the warm lasagne you’d prepared for dinner. Although you saw Leah’s reaction as one of support and warmth towards your new employee, in reality she could feel the pangs of jealousy in her upper stomach as she listened to you ramble about how great Ava was and how much easier she’d made your week.

——

It was December, usually a quiet period of business as many people chose to save for Christmas and there weren’t many properties being sold. However, this year it was unusually busy, meaning you were staying out later and later in the office.

Leah didn’t mind this of course, she was more than understanding, knowing the pressure and stress your job brought. She waited up for you every night with a warm meal (takeaway or microwave as she was a horrendous cook). So when you came home at quarter to midnight after a long day, she was waiting for you.

The sight you saw upon entering your shared penthouse was one of Leah asleep on the sofa. Her blonde bangs stuck out in all directions as she was out cold, an episode of greys anatomy playing softly in the background.

“Oh my girl” you spoke softly, caressing her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings.

“Hi baby” she husked in a sleepy voice. “Have you eaten? There’s leftover pasta in the fridge I somehow managed not to burn it” she smiled to herself

“Thank you my love but me and Ava ordered food in a couple of hours ago” you replied returning her smile, hand drifting onto her shoulder.

“Oh right okay” she grumbled, shifting her body weight so your hand dropped down.

“I’m going to get changed into something comfy okay? Then we can cuddle” you left, oblivious to your girlfriend’s growing jealousy.

“Mmm” she hummed, eyes fixed on the television screen.

——

When you returned, you expected her to be asleep on the sofa but, as you’d went into the bathroom to freshen up, she’d crawled into your shared bed and was sat up on her phone.

You put down your toothbrush and shimmied your way into bed next to her, attempting to cuddle up to her but you were surprised when she shoved you away.

“You don’t smell like you” she complained. “Your perfume is vanilla, you smell like flowers it’s like a 16 year old” she scoffed

“Oh that’s odd, probably Ava’s perfume, she asked me to try and see what I thought. You don’t like it baby?” you questioned frowning at her body position, as she’d now turned away from you.

“No I don’t like it” she snapped, turning out the light and going to sleep

You were unsure what caused this sudden outburst but you knew Leah and knew not to push at it when she was in a mood so you let yourself drift slowly into sleep, making a mental note to bring it up tomorrow.

Her alarm went off bright and early at 7am as she had morning training. You decided to get up with her, despite not having to be in the office until 11am for a meeting. You went through the usual steps of your morning which involved showering (Leah opted against as it was easier to wait until after training), breakfast, dressing and prepping yourself for the day.

Leah was behaving seemingly normal this morning, whatever her issue was yesterday had appeared to have subsided. She hugged you from behind, adorned in her training gear, as you prepared breakfast tortillas for the two of you, wearing a black pantsuit yourself.

“Morning beautiful” she husked into you neck

“Morning my love, do you want ham or just cheese?” You questioned her preference as she was indecisive.

“what no peppers?”

“Do you like peppers Leah?”

“No” she mumbled into your back

“Then no peppers” you titled your head to crack a smile at the blonde

“Weird you’re not trying to sneak vegetables in me today” she laughed

Just as you were about to respond, you were interrupted by your phone blaring from its place on the counter.

“You get it babe, I’ll watch the food” she assured

You silently agreed, shifting to the counter to grab your phone, not bothering to look at the caller id before picking up and not bothering to realise you had speaker on.

“Morning Miss Y/L/N, I’m so sorry to bother you on your morning off” sounded Ava’s voice on the other side of the phone

“Sorry one second Ava I put you on speaker by mistake” you laughed shuffling into the bedroom and shutting the door, completely missing Leah’s expression shift to one of anger and her knuckles turn white from how hard she was gripping the frying pan.

Leah could hear the two of you conversing loudly in the other room. Although you’d turned Ava off speaker, she could still hear your responses. The conversation sounded awfully friendly for one between boss and employee, especially considering you’d been complaining to her this morning about how stressful today was supposed to be as you’d had a meeting with an important investor.

You snapped her out of her thoughts as you giggled like a school girl, laughter Leah interpreted as flirtatious. She was furious now, she trusted you whole heartedly but she didn’t for one second trust Ava. Also, although she’d never admit it, her insecurities in herself and your feelings toward her, played a big part in her jealousy.

——

You wandered out of the room a few minutes later, smiling at your phone as you’d realised that the meeting you’d been trying to get for weeks with a new client, had been arranged.

“You two were laughing an awful lot in there, what was so funny?” questioned Leah in a harsh tone.

“Oh haha nothing Ava just messed up something small with names and was calling to correct it” you laughed

“Hmm usually correcting something small doesn’t take a 10 minute phone call” Leah bit back.

“Noo but she did also tell me that the meeting with UOC inc. went through, we have some of their top board members coming in next week!” You beamed, proud of the accomplishments of your company.

“That’s amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” Leah smiled, pushing down her jealousy to be happy for you.

——

It was on Friday when her jealousy of your assistant finally came to your attention. You and Leah had somewhat of a Friday tradition between yourselves, where she’d meet you at your office at 7pm with food (usually a salad or sushi as she was on a strict diet plan). This happened every week without fail, no matter what the other had going on, even if that meant pushing it forwards or back a few hours, it still happened.

She’d stopped off at dominoes today as an extra treat to show how proud she was of you, after you texted her to say that UOC inc. were open to a deal that would see the company progress even further. She parked her car in your private parking, greeting Roman (a member of your security) on her way in. Excitement filled her body, she couldn’t wait to kiss you, to tell you how thrilled she was and how much she loved you. However the sight she was met when she opened your office door caught her off guard.

You were sat in your desk chair, Ava sat in the corner on your arm chair as the two of you laughed at a TikTok on her phone, a sure sign that you were definitely not just working late.

“Leah hey! Oh my god I didn’t even realise the time” you chuckled, checking the expensive watch she’d bough you last Christmas.

“Sure you didn’t, what’s she still doing here?” She snapped, gesturing harshly at Ava who had paled under the defender’s cold glare.

“She was just showing me something Leah, don’t be rude!” you cautioned, taking a tone of your own.

“Seems like she’s been showing you an awful lot lately doesn’t it and now she’s here, now, on a Friday?” She explained.

It finally hit you, her hands were balled into fists, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, Leah was jealous of Ava. You could’ve laughed at the irony but that would only provoke her more.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve eaten into your time y/n! Especially considering you’d planned to share it with your girlfriend. My boyfriend will be here in just a minute, thank you for the chat, I’ll see you Monday!” She blurted, shuffling awkwardly past Leah and practically bolting down the corridor.

“Boyfriend?” Leah huffed out.

“Yes Lee, boyfriend. I can’t believe you were jealous of my straight employee, who’s basically a teenager” you laughed openly at her.

“Ugh you’re so annoying” she sulked

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous baby” you cooed, pinching her cheek

“Oi get off” she slapped your hand away, rolling her eyes

“Is that for me” you beamed, gesturing to the bag of food in her hands.

“Not anymore” she sassed

“Oh yeah right” you scoffed, making a beeline for the bag, wrestling her to the floor.

“Hey you idiot” she giggled, a smile replacing her previous frown as you sat on top of her, making grabby hands at the food.

———

thank you for reading! <3 My requests and Dms are both open (even though it could take a little time for me to get around to) :)

[munsonsmixtapes]

Paint Me

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!inexperienced!American!reader

summary: An unfortunate funeral causes you and Benedict come face to face and he is your surprising shoulder to lean on. And after a secret moment in the garden, you become closer than ever before.

word count: 4k

taglist: @syraxnyra @turtle-cant-communicate @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @intothesoul

part one part two part four part five part six part seven

February 13, 1817

There was a knock on your door after you had gotten home from the gallery. You had embarrassed yourself enough when you had insulted Benedict's painting and weren't in the mood to speak to anyone, especially not who you knew was on the other side of the door.

You had already felt like a disappointment to your father and you didn't need to hear him tell you as such. But he entered the room anyway and sat on the edge of your bed next to you. He went to wrap his arm around you, but you pulled away, moving closer to the other side.

"I am afraid that I have not been there for you when you needed me most," he went to reach for your hand, but you pulled it away, fully turning your back to him.

"I am afraid that is true and I do not wish to speak to you at this moment."

"Bunny," he went to use his beloved nickname for you which caused you to stand from the bed, turning to face with a kind of anger you didn't even know was possible.

"You do not deserve to call me that. I understand that you are my father, but you were also my best friend. So where have you been?" You asked, your voice getting louder. "Where have you been when your wife, my mother betrayed me? If you love me as much as you claim to, then why have you never defended me when you saw the two of them treating me so horribly? I know why. It is because you are nothing but a coward and I do not wish to speak to you any longer."

With that, your father left the room, leaving you alone again. All of your anger was getting the best of you, everything that had happened throughout your whole life, weighing on you. You went under your bed where you hid away your art supplies and began to sketch, the pressure of your hand pressing the charcoal to the page, causing it to break, both it and the tears that were falling from your eyes, ruining the picture completely.

It seemed that not even your form of therapy was working. The one thing that made you feel better in fact did not. As your anger reached its peak, you threw everything across the room in a loud clatter and changed into your nightgown, getting into your bed, pulling the covers over you and crying until sleep claimed you.

But your sleep did not bring you any rest whatsoever, the only thing happening behind your eyes was your father. You saw his carriage crashing into a tree, the ship he was on going down, him falling off his horse, all leading to his demise.

The guilt was eating at you for the way you spoke to him. Even though everyone was asleep, you couldn’t sleep any longer without apologize for the way you spoke to your father. Whether he accepted it or not didn’t matter. You just needed him to know that you didn’t mean a single word.

You snuck out of your room with every intention of heading to your parents’ room at the end of the hall only to your mother sobbing in the foyer. She was on her hands and knees while Lilith held onto her, rubbing her back while he cried tears of her own.

You approached them, looking around for your father only to not see him, and you expected the worst. It seemed that all of your nightmares were in fact not that, but premonitions.

You felt lightheaded, your vision going hazy as your sister told you what had happened. Augustus had gone for a late night horse ride and had experienced a heart attack, causing him to fall off and pass away right there because there had been no one had been around to give him the proper care nor get him to a hospital.

It was all your fault. Or at least, that was what you were telling yourself. He did, however, die in one of the ways you had dreamed about, so you supposed that you had spoken it into existence.

The next few days, the house was quiet, neither you nor your mother or sister uttering a single word, nothing feeling quite right to say as far as the loss was concerned. The funeral was the next week and the three of you stood together, weeping over your father’s grave.

You were approached by Kate and Anthony who pulled you into a group hug as your cried into their shoulders and they held you for as long as you liked. When you pulled away, you saw Benedict standing behind them, his eyes already on you. For once, the flirty look in his eyes was replaced with a look of sorrow. 

For a second, all of your dislike for him dissipated as he pulled you into his arms, his hands rubbing up and down your back as he whispered nothing but nice things into your ear as you cried into his shoulder. 

Kate and Anthony turned away to give you a private moment and whispered to each other about what was possibly going on between the two of you. Kate thought it was sweet, but Anthony was ready to nip it right in the bud. There was no way that he was letting his brother anywhere near you, not even in a friendly way as  Benedict was unable to be friends with women. He only bedded them and there was absolutely no way that could happen. 

You pulled away from Benedict and he was quick to wipe your tears. You hadn’t seen him that soft and gentle since you had moved back to England and you were happy to have your old Benedict back, even if it was just for a moment. 

Benedict didn’t know what had come over him. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing you so heartbroken broke his own heart. When he saw you sobbing when he got to the graveyard, he swore that he could actually hear his heart crack. Usually, he would only comfort a woman going through a loss for the sole reason of getting her into bed, but this time, that wasn’t even a thought. He just wanted to make sure that you were okay. 

He didn’t leave your side the entire day as everyone followed your family to your house to enjoy a meal together in your father’s honor. He kept his distance out of respect, but he wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and let you stay there as long as you wanted. He knew how close you were to your father and just how much it had crushed you to lose him. 

As day turned to night, you could feel your cold shoulder towards Benedict start to thaw. You were beginning to think that maybe you were being too hard on him when he had genuinely been trying to right his wrongs with what he had done to you almost a decade ago. You didn’t think that you should have let it hurt you for so long and that the grudge you were holding against him was really only hurting you in the end.

February 20, 1817

As a way to see your artwork, Lady Danbury had one of her friends host another gallery. You had told her that it wasn’t at all necessary, but of course, she didn’t listen to you. She assured you that everyone would love whatever you decided to submit and that they would all be lining up to purchase commissions from you.

You, however, thought it was a bold claim. Sure, you wanted people to see your work, but now you were nervous that none of them were going to appreciate it the way that you did. It was all very personal and you weren't sure that you wanted it hung for everyone to see.

Despite that, you still submitted your most personal piece. A painting of your father that was your own way of honoring him. A way to forgive him for all he had done to you and to let go of all of the guilt you felt for what had happened to him. It was the best form of therapy you could have ever asked for and easily your best work to date.

Benedict's piece had been coming along great as well. For once, he wasn't thinking about every single brush stroke and just went along with it, letting the brush guide him. He was going off of memory since he didn't have a proper photo of his subject, but he thought it was turning out rather well considering.

Instead of going to the studio, he decided to work in the garden, the sunlight being the best thing to point out all his imperfections if there were any. He was not going to have a repeat of what had happened last time. It was far too embarrassing.

"Ah, there you are, brother," Eloise spoke as she approached him.

"Here I am," he replied and was quick to stand in front of the painting so she couldn't see it, but it was too late. She had already seen it. She pushed him out of the way and let out a gasp as the painting before her.

"It that-"

"No," Benedict cut her off, trying to block her view of it again, a shade of pink apparent on his cheeks. Eloise just laughed and pushed him out of the way again, careful not to knock over the easel.

"It is!" She gasped. "It's the l/n girl that Kate and Anthony have befriended!"

"It is not." He didn't know why he was denying it. All the proof was right there.

"You cannot deny it. It seems that you have befriended her as well." Eloise could see the way that her brother looked at you and it seemed like he was attracted to you. She hadn't had many interactions with you, but according to Kate, you seemed like someone who keep Benedict humble and ground him.

"She doesn't like me, Eloise," he shook his head as dipped his brush into a shade that was the color of your skin tone and did some shading where he thought it would look nice.

"Why not? Did you hurt her, because Anthony will certainly-" Oh, Benedict knew exactly what Anthony would do.

"I did," Benedict nodded. "Eight years ago. When her family lived down the road, we painted a lot together in the study while Francesca played the piano, but one night-"

"What did you do, Benedict?" Eloise wasn't sure he wasn't going to say, but what she did know was that she wasn't going to like it.

"She told me-she told me that she loved." Her eyes widened at that and she wasn't surprised that she didn't know that fact because you would have been too scared to admit it to anyone and Benedict just felt horrible about the whole thing and didn't want to revisit it.

"And what did you say?" Considering the fact that you were ten and Benedict was twenty-one at the time, she could assume what had happened.

"The only thing I could. She was a child and I was certainly not interested in her and so I told her as much. Maybe a little too harshly and she ran."

"Benedict," Eloise gasped. So that was why you always paid almost attention to him. All of the dots were finally connecting. Now she was thinking that she liked you even more. That you were the first woman to not fall for her brother’s charms even though you were the exact one who should have. He definitely had a type.

"I know, and now she's here and beautiful and I'm afraid I've fucked it all up." Eloise was wondering what had gotten into him that he had such a defeatist attitude. He was never that way towards the women he was interested in even if they weren’t interested. In fact, that usually only motivated him even more.

"Maybe this might seem like a foreign concept to you, brother, but have you ever thought about apologizing like a normal person?" Benedict actually had thought about that, but he didn't think that was good enough, so that was why he had done the painting of you. He hoped that would help you see just how much he cared for you.

"I think it might be too late for that." He decided that his work was done and started to clean his brushes.

"It's never too late for an apology," she rested a hand on his shoulder and gave is a squeeze, leaving Benedict with much to think about.

February 21, 1817

You sat in the study with one of your books in your hand, but you couldn't focus on it. Your letter letting you know whether or not your artwork was accepted into the gallery was going to be there any second and you were terrified. There was a lot of riding on it and you were very afraid that they hadn't accepted it.

Kate and Anthony had insisted on being there when you got the good new and Kate clutched your hand as a servant entered the room with the envelopes on a silver platter and you reached for yours, feeling like time had stopped as you ripped into the envelope.

You read the first few words of the letter and let it drop to the floor, feeling your body go cold, collapsing into one of the chairs as you accepted defeat. They didn't want your piece. You should have known since they wouldn't have since you were a woman. They hadn't said as much, but you were able to read the lines.

Despite your sadness, you told the couple that you would join them at the gallery and felt horrible that Lady Danbury went through all that trouble for nothing. You didn't want to have to look her in the eyes, but the only worse thing was not going an accepting defeat. You were going to show everyone just how strong you were.

February 25, 1817

Practically everyone was already at the gallery when you had arrived and you felt dread come over you as you accepted that you were going to have no part in it. You had been rejected from many things like that before, so you weren't sure why it hurt so much.

Lady Danbury had approached immediately when you arrived and you really didn't feel like speaking with her but you plastered on your brightest smile, faking like you had interest in the conversation even though you would have much rather been in the study with your paints.

"Ah, there's the artist," she greeted. "You left last time before we were able to talk about your critique of the Bridgerton boy." Normally you would have felt guilty for something, but this time you couldn't have cared less. Benedict Bridgerton could have stood to be knocked down a few pegs and you were really enjoying being the one to do it.

"And I apologize for that. I was just letting my own issues take over." You were only apologizing because you felt like it, not because you meant it.

"No apologies necessary, dear. I loved it. I wish you would speak your mind more often. More people could benefit from hearing your thoughts. Especially ones like Mr. Bridgerton." Lady Danbury didn't mind Benedict, but often times she felt he had a big head and let his ego get in the way.

"I appreciate that, but unfortunately, I don't think that I'm up for it tonight."

"But what am I to think about the artwork without a lovely artist to give her opinions?" There was something odd about the interaction and you couldn't figure out what.

"You do flatter me, Lady Danbury. I suppose I wouldn't mind joining you."

So, you led her around the gallery and told her what you thought about the pieces, promising her to not hold back this time, suddenly not afraid to speak your mind. And Lady Danbury was loving every second of it, very entertained by the shy wallflower coming out of her shell.

She quite liked your company, amused by your little quips that you had come with on the spot. And she appreciated how you felt like you were able to be your true self around her, not the shy person she had met a few weeks ago. You were growing on her and easily becomg one of her favorite debutants of the season.

"Lady Danbury, who do you think your favorite artist is?" You asked as she got to the second to last piece. All this time you had been talking about the pieces in front of you, but you were curious as to what kind of art she liked since you thought a person's favorite artist said a lot about them.

"You." You were surprised to hear her say that considering that she hadn't even seen any of your work.

"Oh, that's very nice, but-"

"No, dear, it's you!" She cut you off and forced you to turn to the piece on the wall. You let out a gasp as your face stared back at you, feeling something very strange coming over you.

You stepped closer to the painting and turned this way and that, convinced that you were looking into a mirror, but you weren't. You could very clearly see the paint strokes when you got close enough. Who the artist was was a mystery. You had absolutely no idea who could have done it and wanted to know their identity and why you had been their subject.

You couldn't stop staring, wanting to reach out to touch it, but you knew you weren't allowed, even if it was your face on the canvas. It was amazing how well they were able to paint your features and you wondered what they had used for reference.

"I hope this isn't too amateur for you," a voice whispered in your ear and you felt a chill go down your spin as their hot breath hit the back of your neck.

You turned around only to be face to face with the seconds eldest Bridgerton brother. You eyed him, wondering why he would have done something like that and what he would have gotten out of it. That had to be the reason why he would have done it...right?

So many questions were swirling around your mind, your main one being how he was able to make the painting so accurate that it felt like you were looking into a mirror without having you sit for it.

"What is this, Benedict?" You pointed to the painting and he just chuckled. You didn't like how much you enjoyed making hearing the sound and wondering how you would have been able to hear it.

"It's you." He was smiling brightly and you wished he had done it more often. The look was just too pretty on him to hide away all the time. You wondered why he always seemed to always look so serious. In the many times you had seen him, he had only smiled when he was with Eloise.

"I'm aware of that...but why?"

"I think the better question is why not."

"How were you able to do it without me sitting for you to paint me?"

"I will answer all of your questions, but right now, we must see the final painting."

He offered you his arm and you grabbed onto it, letting him lead you through the rest of the gallery.

"But this was the last one." 

"Not quite,” he winked and stopped at the last piece, causing you to let out a loud gasp as your own painting was staring back at you. But it had been rejected. How did he get a hold of it and why was it there? The man was confusing you even more by the second. You were convinced that he had just been trying to get you to forgive him just so he could feel better about himself, but now you weren’t so sure. 

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you turned to him. No one had ever done anything that nice for you before. Something so selfless that they only did because they wanted to and not to make themself look good. Maybe he wasn’t the same Benedict that your remembered. Maybe he was finally turning over a new leaf.

Benedict wiped your tears away and even though it was entirely inappropriate, you threw yourself into his arms and he was quick to catch you, almost falling backwards because of how much force you had used to push yourself in his direction. You squeezed each other tight, avoiding the gasps of the people around you. Lady Danbury shooed them away to give the two of you some privacy as you both pulled away. 

Without a word, you pulled Benedict away from the gallery and you both discreetly made your way through the crowd to get outside for some much needed fresh air. You looked out into the garden and couldn’t help but feel like home there.There was something that was so comforting about it that made it seem like you belonged there. You could see yourself there with Benedict right by your side, the two of you facing each other with your own easels as you painted your own portraits of each other. 

You hadn’t thought about him in that way in a long time and wondered where that had come from. Maybe you were overcome with gratitude to him, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact that you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at his pretty lips, wondering what they felt like between yours. And how you could have taken the chance and it would not have been inappropriate.

Without a word, you grabbed him by his coat and pulled him down so that his face was only inches from yours. You pressed your lips to his with so much force that your teeth clinked together and you both were quick to pull away covering your mouths in pain. You couldn’t believe you had done that. That was exactly why you never acted impulsively. It always just ended in embarrassment. 

You just shook your head as you felt your cheeks heat up and turned back to enter the gallery. Benedict wasn’t going to let you get away this time, though. He lost you once and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. And this time, he was actually attracted to you and he was going to let you know just how beautiful he thought you were. 

He grabbed onto your arm just as you were going to open the door and turned you around to face him. His hazel eyes bored into yours as he grabbed onto your chin, lifting it as he bent down. He slotted his lips between yours and you tried to move along with him, mimicking his actions exactly even though you had absolutely not fucking clue what you were doing. 

Your hands moved to his face and pulled him closer to you so you had more access to his mouth, becoming addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. You had only gotten a little taste, but already wanted to do that exact thing for the rest of your life. Benedict pulled away to let the both of you breathe, but quickly dove in for more as he grabbed onto your waist and pushed you against the pillar that was behind you. You let him lead, taking exactly what he wanted from you as you were pliant under his touch. 

He pushed your mouth open as he slid his tongue inside, letting it swirl around your own and a sound escaped your mouth that Benedict definitely needed to hear again. And the fact that what you were doing was considered wrong only made him love it more. He continued to kiss you like his life depended on it as his hand moved up to your breast, massaging it the best he could over your dress as you let out another moan, this one louder. You pulled away as you felt a weird sensation between your legs, a lot of wetness collecting there. You began to panic as you pushed Benedict away, embarrassed about what was happening. 

“I had a lovely time tonight, Mr. Bridgerton, but now I must go.” You curtsied and then rushed inside, gathering your dress in your hands as you did so. 

You made a beeline for the restroom and locked yourself inside it before grabbing the nearest towel-like fabric and pulled up your dress before wiping. You pulled the towel away not to find blood like you were expecting but found that whatever was between your legs was almost clear. You were convinced that there was something wrong with you, having never seen anything like that before. 

While you were panicking in the restroom, Benedict was pacing in the garden, debating running after you even though he was sure that you had already left. Had he made you uncomfortable? That must have been it because you looked so scared. He had taken advantage of you and now he was going to beat himself up over it. Not reciprocating your feelings when you were a child was one thing, but taking advantage of you was another and now he had ruined his chances with you because he was selfish. He didn’t think that another painting was going to fix it either. Perhaps it was time to finally let you go for good and let you find a man who was actually worthy enough. A man that was actually able to keep you.

[champion-of-love]

i know that the eah books frame apple, briar and blondie as the 'main' royal trio and ashlynn is sometimes the plus one. then the webisodes sort of switches blondie and ashlynn's positions which i think makes it so much better.

here's my reasoning. boling it down to the basics, apple and blondie's future stories are both short tragedies followed by a long happy ever after. apple gets three trials from the evil queen and essentially gets poisoned for a week and her survival is ensured through all of it. blondie's story with the bears takes less time than that. heck, blondie barely suffers through it. the bears go more tragedy than her.

but briar and ashlynn's stories are much more darker and tragic than those two combined. briar falls asleep for a hundred years. when she wakes up, all her family, her siblings, her friends and everyone she's ever known are gone are long gone. she's displaced from her own time and saddled with a prince she has never met before. ashlynn's going to lose her mother and then her father and then has to suffer through years of abuse from her stepfamily and she just has to bear it. she's going to have lose to lose contact with her friends and break up with her boyfriend and go through all of it alone with just birds and mice to talk to. they both have to make it through so much hardship before they get their happily ever after.

(their ever afters aren't even 100% happy. when ashlynn gets her ever after, she'll eventually go through the last part of her cinderella story and knows that she won't live long enough to see her child reach adulthood. briar knows her child will be cursed too and she'll have to accept the fact that there's going to be that event where her child will fall asleep for a hundred years. they won't be dead, but it's close to a parent burying their own child. since snow whites aren't related to the evil queens in the world of ever after, only apple gets a perfectly happy ending to her story)

the webisodes deciding to surround apple with ashlynn and briar makes apple look so much more naive with her way of thinking. the extreme contrast with her path to her happily ever after compared to her 'bffs' portrays apple as someone who doesnt' think about other people's stories and just focuses on her own. the lack of compassion from apple (and other royals) towards ashlynn and briar is even enough to make ashlynn and briar rebel. apple's blinding excitement toward her future clashes extremely with ashlynn and briar's anxious dread towards theirs.

surrounding apple with briar and blondie just doesn't give the same effect.

in contrast to the royal side, there's the 'main' rebel trio where you have raven, maddie and cedar. maddie and cedar are happy with their stories and like where they end up. raven doesn't. rightly so because her fate isn't a happy one. but maddie and cedar feel so much love for their friend that they're willing to throw away their destinies, their potential happiness in the hope of being able to help her. they're willing to risk their happily ever afters so raven won't ever have to suffer.

what an interesting comparison between two groups when one is descirbed to be 'good' and the other as 'bad' when it's definitely the other way around.

the webisodes may be just marketing for the dolls but they do make some incredibly fantastic writing choices.

[saphiccarma]

- The Red Means I Love You

Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader

Summary - Your father had always been a little wacky, always paranoid. He died a few months ago and you moved into abadoned apartment, but you never thought that he would be involved in a mob.

Warnings: Kidnapping (?), maybe the slightest bit dark Nat? Nothing serious today

Wanda Maximoff was well known for her cruelty. She was known to be harsh and unforgiving, a woman of power who made no exceptions. Anyone who dared to utter her name did so with respect, a reverence that was reserved for one other person. Her wife, Natasha Romanoff. She was known for being stern. A woman who commanded her people with an iron fist and didn't let mistakes slide.

They were two of the most famous mob mosses there was, with a few exceptions, and very few dared to cross their paths. It had taken them years to build their regime, to gather trusted members, and now that they had it, they weren't letting anything get in their way. They weren't letting even the smallest mistakes go.

Not that you knew that. When you had moved into your father's old apartment after he died, you thought nothing of it. At the time you were still living with your mother, fresh out of college, and needed a place to live. You applied to work at a hospital nearby and after being accepted, you moved into your father's place. It was a shaggy old apartment. Each shelf had a thin layer of dust, and you swear that the smell of cigarettes was permanent.

Digging around a bit, you had found a gun stashed under the bed, which was odd, and a knife hidden in the kitchen. Your father always had been a bit paranoid. Always muttering about how they were going to get him. Your mother had called him crazy which led to their divorce, but they had shared custody, so you still heard parts of his ramblings.

Your cheeks were a soft shade of pink from the chill in the air as you walked home. The blue scrubs you wore swished and crinkled and the gravel crunched under your feet. It wasn't the smartest idea, to be walking home late at night, but your phone was dead and you didn't have a car. You had also forgotten your pepper spray. Internally cursing yourself, you took a right, straight down the sketchy looking alley that smelled of alcohol and smoke. Inhaling sharply, you carefully began to scurry down it.

Before you had barely gone five steps, there was dull thud that you hardly registered in the back of your head. The world spun for a short moment before everything went black.

^__________^

A coppery tang filled your mouth, coating your cheeks and gums. Blinking blearily, you swiped your tongue along your teeth, distinctly tasting blood. Your entire body ached, a heavy weight pressing down on you. There were ropes tied around your wrists, you noted when you tried to move, and similar ones around your feet. You were sat on a wooden chair, one that creaked when you struggled.

The ropes dug into your skin, burning it and making the situation all the more uncomfortable. A distinct prick stung the back of your eyes as you glanced around the dark room. Water dripped lazily from the ceiling, falling in a repetitive pattern onto the floor. It matched the humid air that drifted around. Sweat formed on the back of your back and you could fell a small droplet drip down.

But there was no light. You could only hear the droplets, and despite being in here for a few moments, your eyes refused to adjust further than allowing you to see a door and the chair you were in. Twisting once more, you tried to free yourself from the painful restraints, but to no avail. They remained snug around your wrists and ankles.

The door swung open and lights were flicked on. You squeezed your eyes shut; the brightness surprising you. Faintly you heard footsteps along the concrete floor, and you forced yourself to look. A woman stood in front of you. Her hair was fiery red, a color that accented her green eyes, and it rolled down to her shoulders in perfect waves. She regarded you cooly, a look in her eyes that promised pain, yet devoid of any emotion.

"Ms. Y/L/N," she said lowly, huskily even, "I've wanted to meet you."

You flinched back when her hand came up to your face. Tears welled in your eyes. Gently, the tips of her perfectly manicured nails tapped the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone down to your chin. Just when you thought she would pull away, her nails dug into the sides of your jawline as she gripped your jaw. The force was painful. A small whimper escaped you as you tried to pull away. Key word being tried.

"Do you know who I am? I doubt your father ever bothered to enlighten you." She twisted your head side to side, her forest green eyes scanning you up and down as if you were a science experiment. "He spoke fondly of you."

A shaky breath was exhaled from your lungs as you tried to formulate words, "Who- Who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff, your father's former boss."

Then finally, just as you thought she would draw blood, her hand released your cheek. Flexing your jaw, you stared at her oddly. She wore black combat pants with a matching skintight long sleeve shirt. There was a gun holstered to her thigh. Some things were clicking into place, like the gun you had found stashed in the apartment, or the giant pile of money, but the full picture hadn't come in yet.

"You have no idea, do you?" She was crouched now, her eyes level to yours as she leaned forward, "Your father was in great debt. It was a shame he was killed." Although her face showed pity, the jutting of her lower lip and the sad glimmer in her eyes, her tone held none. "But since he's dead, that debt has fallen onto you."

"How much did he owe you?" your voice was barely steady. It cracked every other word and made the tears in your eyes all the more prominent.

A small, amused, laugh escaped her. You wished to believe it was genuine, but it sounded nothing of the sort, "Oh he didn't owe me money. No, he owed me something much more valuable. He owed me time. Servitude. But he died before that could be filled out. You, however, are still alive."

"And if I can't?" The words were whispered softly as you kept your gaze to the ground. You could hardly hear Natasha's breath, your own overshadowing it. All that was audible was your own breath and the sound of your heartbeat in your eyes.

"Do you care for your mother?"

Her question sent a jolt of fear through you, one that sparked your veins and made you snap your head up.

"Don't hurt her!" you pleaded, tugging at your restraints, "Please, she did nothing."

The smile on her face could have been called sinister, "Oh darling," Natasha's fingers reached for your face again, ignoring your flinch, and gently tracing the side of your cheek, "I don't plan to. As long as you comply."

"I don't- I don't know how to do any of this stuff," you mumbled. You didn't want to do any of this stuff. From what you had gathered, Natasha ran a mob. Mobs hurt people. You had become a nurse to help people, to heal - not to hurt.

"I'll teach you," she said softly. For the first time in your interaction, her features lost a bit of their edge. It was hardly noticeable, just her lips loosening their frown and her jaw unclenching slightly. Out of the corner of your tear-filled eyes you saw her draw a knife from her boot. A violent flinch ran through you as you tried to squirm away. "Stay still," Natasha chided.

She sliced through your binds, the knife dangerously close to your skin. You didn't dare to move as she rose from her crouch, not until she gestured for you to follow. Frantically, you stood from the chair, wombling a bit due to the fact that your legs were asleep, and scurred after her. She walked with a certain air of confidence, one that had the guard outside the door saluting - even if it seemed slightly playful. The place she led you through was surprisingly nice compared to the room you were held in. The walls were a dark color, one that you would picture in medieval times, and it smelled of fresh wood and whiskey. Just the slightest bit.

Everything was utterly silent as you followed Natasha, your breath loud and obnoxious even as you tried to quiet it. Fear coursed through you, sparking every bit of you to life. You were still dressed in your scrubs, the comfortable material still holding up, but being rather loud as you walked. Leading you up to a set of doors, Natasha pushed them open, and you were met with a large set of mats.

Black mats were laid on the floor, a perfect square. A couple boxing bags hung in the corner of the room, dangling from a set of chains. There were a few times when your father had tried to teach you boxing, but he never got it stick. You had always been driven to help people rather than hurt. Even if it was self-defense.

As Natasha stepped onto the mats, waiting for you to do the same, you realized what was happening. Oh- she was teaching you now. Like now now. If you were scared before, you knew you were scared now, especially based on the way her fingers flexed and she smirked with her chin tilted up. Hell no. The most you knew about boxing was the stance and that was about it. A jab and backhand punch, maybe, but it had been so long ago when you learned.

"Come on," she encouraged, her voice laced with faux sweetness, "Let's go."

The words forced you into action, stepping onto the mat hesitantly, and attempting to match the stance she slid into. Yours was undoubtedly sloppier and way worse, but you were going to lose this fight anyway - there was no winning this one. Before you could even attempt to gain your bearings, Natasha's fist was in your face, pressing hard into your nose.

You stumbled back, faintly tasting blood as it dripped down to your lips. Squeezing your eyes shut you hardly noticed Natasha moving forward and her leg sweeping beneath you. A harsh thump echoed through the room as you fell onto the mat. The air in your lungs was forced out as you sharply exhaled, and the back of your head pounded with a dull pain.

With a small groan, you opened your eyes, only to see a disappointed expression. Natasha had her arms crossed, a firm frown settled on her face and her brows slightly furrowed.

Her foot nudged your side, "Get up. Again."

The two of you went at it for hours after that.

^___________^

You’ve worked for Natasha for about half a year now. It had become a routine at that point. You stayed at the base like everyone and worked hard, laying low and trying to blend in. For some odd reason, Natasha had taken a special liking to you. At least, that's what Bucky told you. Bucky was one of Natasha's oldest acquaintances, one of her most trusted people, and he oversaw some of your training.

"She likes you," he mumbled under his breath. You, covered in sweat and maybe a couple of tears, shook your head as you sat on the bench, denying the statement entirely. Based on the fact that Natasha beat you up for what felt like the thousandth time that month, she most certainly did not like you.

Natasha came onto the base every day aside from Sunday and would spend two to three hours training you. Whether it was teaching you how to shoot, how to wield a knife, or simple hand to hand combat. It was exhausting, training with her for hours until your entire body was sore and aching and then doing the same the next day. Slowly, it became easier, starting with simple things until you could feel the difference. Maybe you didn't sweat as much, or you didn't need to take long breaks, until you started noticing that you held up against Natasha longer than usual.

It still wasn't enough, based on the way she was perched atop you, her legs straddling your hips. Her arms were right by your head, muscular and firm, breath just the slightest bit heavy. You thought she looked beautiful. There was the slightest sheen of sweat coating her forehead, and a few loose curls that fell from her braid, framing her face perfectly. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement.

Natasha leaned down, her lips, perfect and soft, were ever closer to yours. Your heart skipped a bit as your lashes fluttered. That was another thing - you had a crush on Natasha. As childish as it sounded, you really did. The only thing stopping you was the fact that she had a wife. You had never met Wanda, but people spoke her name with reverence, always watching the way they spoke.

On the other hand, Natasha almost never spoke of her, just fleeting mentions to other people. It was the one thing that held you back from trying to go after Natasha. Well, that and the fact that Natasha was downright terrifying, and if you got rejected you weren't sure if you could stand it.

Before you had the chance to think about it more, to even consider pressing your lips onto hers, Natasha did it for you. Her lips, soft and gentle, pressed down on yours. For the briefest moment you were shocked, merely melting into her touch. It felt heavenly, to finally kiss her, and as her tongue pushed into your mouth, you tasted strawberries.

Then, just as Natasha tried to deepen it further, you pushed her off, staring at her with confused eyes. She was married, she had a wife who, supposedly, she loved very much. But the mob boss was only smirking at you, lips curling upward and her tongue flicking out to lick them. The sight sent a shiver down your spine and heat up your cheeks.

"Your- Your married," you murmured, the words breathy and light.

Natasha reached her hand out, brushing a hair away from your face, "I know. She knows." It was the most tender you had ever seen her, different from the harsh and cruel side. You liked it. "She wants to meet you. Wanda wants to meet the girl that captured my attention."

You were too surprised to form a response, merely sputtering as Natasha smirked down at you. Her wife was okay with it? Faintly you realized that meant Natasha talked about you, but that wasn't the main focus. Mainly, Natasha was okay to have a relationship with you. Well, you couldn't call it a relationship yet, she could just be wanting to fuck you. It was probably the latter.

"What-" you cleared your throat, gently pushing her off you and sitting up, "Would we be in a relationship? Or am I just a fuck toy?" Your harsh vocabulary drew a surprised laugh out of Natasha, and she threw her head back just the slightest bit to expose her neck.

"No, you would not be a fuck toy. Otherwise, Wanda wouldn't want to meet you."

Her words soothed the anxiety that had begun to bubble in your stomach. The last thing you wanted to be was just a toy she played with, something she used to release her frustrations. You didn't want to just become an object.

Natasha grinned at your baffled look, her smirk dimming, "Before you meet her though, you have your first job."

^__________^

It's meant to be simple. Natasha is meeting with an opposing mafia, one that had been her rival for a long while. You weren't meant to just stand there and look intimidating. In all honestly, you were the worst person to pick, maybe aside from Kate. But Yelena, Bucky, Clint and even Steve were all much more intimidating. Whether it was because they had a glare that could cut through the harshest materials or because the mere sight of them sent shivers down someone's spine. You were genuinely afraid to approach Steve when you first met him until you found out he was just a big teddy bear.

Even though you were perhaps the worst option, Natasha had chosen to bring you and Bucky. It may have been odd to you, but Bucky just rolled with it, driving the three of you to the venue. You fiddled with the gun strapped to your thigh. The safety was off already, so that you could just pull it out of the holster and shoot. You were still scared you would shoot yourself in the foot.

The pants you wore were tight against your legs along with the shirt, both perfectly outlining your frame. It made you slightly uncomfortable, however Natasha insisted you wear this and she was your boss, so you went with it. The car, a sleek black stingray, pulled into an empty parking lot, its tires crunching on the gravel.

You exited the car, closing the door softly, and inhaling the night air. It had been a few months since you went outside. The opportunity presented itself, but you never found the time. Either that or you were too tired to muster the energy. But now you realized that you had missed it. A cool breeze ruffling your hair and tainting your cheeks and tips of your ears a soft pink. The firm feeling of the ground beneath you.

An owl hooted above you, alerting you to its presence, and you glanced up to see it soaring in the sky. Your gaze traveled to the moon, which was still low in the sky, but high enough to shine a blue light down on you. Its dim light allowed the stars to shine, even if they were dimmed by the cities lights. Bucky's footsteps crackled the gravel as he stepped out of the car.

"You like the stars doll?" his Brooklyn accent slipped through as he said the pet name. He called nearly everyone that so you didn't think much of it, it just seemed to be his way of showing affection.

"Focus up," Natasha snapped, a whole new personality on her now. She was harsh and cruel before, but now it was different. There wasn't the slightest bit of softness in her features, no little hints that she cared for either of you.

She was also wearing a new attire, although similar to when you first met her. Sleek black pants and a long sleeve shirt that had gloves attached to it. The pants perfectly fit her frame, and you would be lying if you said they didn't show off her ass a bit and you didn't enjoy it. Her skintight shirt allowed you and everyone to see the muscles in her arms as she moved, each one flexing. It was a little hot, you weren't going to lie.

A car skidded into the gravel lot, its tires screeching and steam billowing out of the back. It was a sleek sports car that shimmered under the moonlight and a duplicate followed it, albeit a bit slower. Out of it stepped a man.

He had sunglass perched atop his nose, tinted glass perfectly obscuring his eyes. A goatee coated his lower face, the scruffy hair not prominent, but noticeable all the same. He wore a fine suit that looked like it fit him and his air of confidence.

"Romanoff!" He cheered, his voice arrogant and flamboyant, "It's nice to see you again." Although you hadn't known this man for long, you could tell that it was fake. His arms spread out as if going for a hug, but he dropped them before even getting close. Behind him stood a dark-skinned man who wore a suit and had his hands folded in front of him. There was a young boy who had brown fluffy hair and wide brown. The man whistled lowly, "I see you've got a new...thing." He said the word with intent, wiggling his brows suggestively.

You tried not to visibly recoil, even if the words reminded you that Natasha could just be using you.

"Stark," Natasha's voice held a warning, one that promised pain, "We're here to discuss business."

Stark waved his hand with a scoff, pulling his glasses down to make eye contact, "I don't have your money Romanoff. I don't owe you any."

"You blew up one of my buildings," she snarled. Her tone sent a shiver down your spine. In all honestly you had no idea how Stark didn't crumble right then and there, Natasha was scary when she wanted to be.

"On accident, and I didn't even do it - it was an acquaintance."

Natasha scoffed, "Oh please. You hired Danvers to do it. Listen, Stark - I'm giving you until the end of the month, 30 days, to get me the money for blowing up the building."

The man had a deep scowl on his face as his eyes bore into Natasha. They briefly flickered over to you, his brown eyes tracing your face and your features. You felt a bit self-conscious, the suit you were wearing was particularly tight and framed every bit of you. Then, he smirked, his gaze going back to Natasha.

Tipping his head slightly in goodbye, Stark spun around, heading towards his car while the other two went to their own. The three of you stood there until they left, and only then did you see Natasha soften.

"I hate him," she grumbled, marching towards the car.

Bucky started the engine as you climbed in, "I know," he soothed, "It'll be over soon."

Natasha sighed, the sound heavy and laced with annoyance. She turned to face you sitting in the back, the slightest smirk on her face, "Ready to meet Wanda?"

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 || 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: valley of the dolls || part two: here

summary_ where coriolanus snow wants to win you again after recovering from Dr. Gaul’s experiments, but ends up threatening you to marry him or he’ll reveal your darkest secret, just because you were his.

warnings_ NO PROOFREAD, dubcon, oral (f receiving), dark!coriolanus, angst, fluff (well…), drama

notes_happy halloween, listen to my Coriolanus’ playlist, it’s so bad I promise you’ll hate it.

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Reflections were a light of truth. Whether you liked it or not. There are no more tears to shed, you think you’ve run out of them.

“You need to put down that mirror…” your father said.

He had grown a little colder after ascending to work closely with the government. Burt you know you’ll always be his little girl. Just like you would always love him.

“I can’t stop. My skin itches, I feel like I’m burning…” you reply, looking. At yourself.

Your skin was literally shredding. As if liquid glue had been poured all over your body. Now was dry, peeling itself off. The worst parts were in your face, ribs, and thighs.

“You have visits…” your eyes almost pop out.

“What?”

“Just Clemensia…”

“I thought I said no visits until I was allowed to leave the hospital.”

“I don’t think she’ll judge you, y/n”

It was true. You were horrified when Clemensia appeared full of neon scaled and yellow eyes to wake you up and Coriolanus at the hospital.

“Fine. Let her come in…” your father nodded, kissing your forehead before leaving.

You went to look at your reflection a little more. The dry peeling skin was turning dark, creating an odd contrast with your new rosy layer.

The sound of the door made you startled, but when you turned, you spotted Clemensia already inside.

She inspects your face once she’s inches away from you. She even touches your skin.

“You look great. I’d give it a couple of days. Amazing…” You can’t resist but embrace her, which she accepts.

“It’s been two months and everyone keeps talking about you. I suspected the reason, so I patiently waited” she says, taking a seat beside you in the hospital bed. You half laugh, putting away the mirror.

“How are you?

“Good? Not? I don’t know. I don’t even know what happened” you reply.

“I guess if I was close to turning into a giant python, you were very close to turning into a mermaid” You find the humor in her words, so you laugh with her.

What was left to do either way? You thought.

“When I woke up, I had fish scales and I couldn’t stop drinking water…” Clemensia nodded. She was almost clear from the scales. Her eyes were normal again. She looked good.

“Just like I couldn’t stop my tongue from making odd sounds and movements…”

Both of you remain quiet for a little while. Until Clemensia opens her mouth and then shuts it, debating whether to speak up or not.

You already know what she’s wondering.

“Say it, Clemmie.” She sighs, surrendering to her curiosity.

“What happened with Coriolanus?…”

“He exposed me for suggesting he cheat in the games. He didn’t tell me anything the last time I saw him. It was in the Citadel, he was coming out from Dr. Gaul’s office and I was about to come in...”

You scratch your own hands for comfort. Clinging to confidence to disguise your anxiety.

“Coriolanus would never hurt you…”

“Oh Clemmie, I haven’t seen him in two months but I’m pretty sure the schoolboy we knew is completely gone. When I entered that lab, I was forced to lay in a bed and wait for hundreds of needles to attack me. And the moment I opened my eyes was a week ago…” your friend looks at you with pity, but you can’t feel bad for that.

“My mother brought me the news. Coriolanus left to the districts, he was exiled and paid to go and follow his songbird to the most filthy district.”

“Maybe he got scared. Perhaps he didn’t know Gaul was going to punish you…”

“He discovered I was sick because he called home a month after he left. A month, Clemmie. Neither one of the Snows worried for me. When I considered part of my family.” tears prick in your eyes but you can’t cry.

“He said I was important, he kissed me when he won the games. Dear lord, we promised to split the prize if one of us won. I love Coriolanus Snow, he was my best friend. I kissed him again and told him I’d see him at home the last time I saw him… All for nothing.”

Clemensia holds you tightly once again, this time brushing your dry and unhealthy hair.

“It’s going to be okay, y/n. You didn’t do anything wrong, you can rest knowing you are a good and decent person” You nod, swallowing the resentment towards that man.

“While I prepare to come back, Clemmie… Please start destroying him for me.” She smiles, caressing your hand.

“A man who chooses district over his capitol family is a coward”

…

Rumors were spread faster than disease in the Middle Ages. Coriolanus Snow was a renowned man. He let the rumors run like water. He followed Lucy Gray Baird to the districts for love. Didn’t work out, the girl was accused of murder and ran away, leaving him.

Everyone knew Coriolanus Snow had broken your heart. And that you remained confined in a hospital room. Infectious virus was the alleged reason.

When he received a call from Dr.Gaul, he internally cheered. She kept her promise of moving you to a hospital, and finally, your parents could see you. Coriolanus would be lying if he said he didn’t care about you anymore.

In fact, returning to the Capitol reminded him how lonely he actually was. Even worse when he learned Festus, Lysistrata, Clemensia and

were giving him the cold shoulder for abandoning you. Apparently, the girl he considered one of his closest friends visited you at the hospital and you spilled your side of the story. Coriolanus couldn’t blame you. He wasn’t expecting anything from you yet.

Trying to find a reason to keep his mind occupied other than attending university was to wisely make the first spend with the Plinth’s fortune. Coriolanus decided to refurbish the penthouse. And when he tried to offer a hand to your parents to do the same, he was shocked to learn it wasn’t necessary anymore.

It was a long night of talking. Your father had ascended to position quickly and now worked as part of President Ravinstill’s cabinet. Your mother had opened her own atelier in the Capitol’s downtown. When he was allowed to visit your room, Coriolanus noticed the wallpapers that looked faded and peeling now looked fresh. Your feathers lamp was long gone. It was replaced with an exotic flower look alike chandelier.

But his picture remained in your family pictures in your new bookshelves. And that’s when the guilt sank in.

The need to be okay with you grew. He remembered having an ally.

When he asked for you, your father revealed with sad but hopeful eyes that your skin was peeling, that your only cold showers felt good, but that you smiled for them.

Coriolanus got chills at the memory of you in that water tank. He supposed your process was similar to Clemensia and the snake bite.

As a man as well, your father didn’t completely blame him for growing confused about you and Lucy Gray.

He was urged to make amends with you. Tigris said it, grandma’am too. Clemensia and your parents said it too.

So he would.

…

Fixing your gloves, you look out your window. The Corso looked even more luxurious and elegant with the pink morning sky. But soon your eyes betray you, landing in your pictures. You immediately grab Coriolanus’ portrait, ready to take the paper stuck under the glass and tear it. But you don’t, you only put the picture looking down.

His memory kept haunting you. After all, he was still your neighbor.

You learned after a few more visits from Clemensia that Sejanus was dead. You sobbed so much. Sejanus was a good friend and his need to be something else killed him. Actually, Coriolanus killed him but you would never know that.

Only that his death led to the Plinths making Coriolanus their heir. That he was studying bureaucratic law and having private lessons with Dr. Gaul.

Traitor, traitor, traitor. He was even accepting classes from the woman who almost killed you.

In social matters, Coriolanus was courting Livia Cardew and you actually laughed.

Your best friend was truly gone. But you were back and you didn’t want to be overcome by the pain he put you through.

You were more than a curated girl with a broken heart that appeared in the newspapers. You were the daughter of a successful man and the daughter of the most famous designer of the capital.

And you weren’t going to start your comeback with the wrong foot.

Dr. Gaul probably wasn’t expecting to release an experiment only to return to a human body with regenerated DNA. The dry skin was replaced by a shiny and healthy new layer. Your hair grew again, longer than ever and you felt healthy overall.

The moment you stepped out of the trolley station, you slowly started to feel some heads turn your way.

The click of your heels soothed you as you made your way through the long marble stairs of the Capitol’s University. The feeling of unwanted attention grew when you went to the main office to pick up your schedule.

The secretary handed you the paper and as you read through it, someone tapped on your shoulder. You turned and it was a surprise to encounter one friend.

“Festus!…” you hug him, immediately feeling happy to see him.

“I heard you were back. Lysistrata and I split to find you. I guess I won…” he said, making you chuckle.

“You look great”

“You too. We’ve heard the craziest rumors about you and we literally spent the whole summer wondering what had actually happened” you sigh.

You wanted everyone to know what happened to you. That Gaul was a monster. That Coriolanus was a traitor. But it wasn’t the most viable. But he was your friend, you could trust him.

“What did Clemensia tell you?” You asked him, walking out of the office, and starting your way through the long halls.

“Not much. Only that Coriolanus was the biggest idiot,” he admitted.

And hearing that name out loud puts you on alert. He could appear anytime soon. And to be honest you weren’t prepared to encounter him. But you were confident that ignoring his existence would be easy.

“Well, Festus, let’s find her and Lysistrata. We have a lot to talk about…”

…

By the end of the day, everyone has your name on their lips. You spot Livia gossiping with Persephone, Iphigenia, Urban, and Androcles, the little bunch of the Academy that always made fun of you and Coriolanus for being so close.

You can’t help but remember that Coriolanus had started some sort of courtship with the mean blonde. You guess it’s because they turned out to be pretty much alike.

Overall, it hadn’t been as bad as you thought it was going to be. The hope of becoming a senator one day was still strong as the first day of classes for you turned out to be good.

You clench the zipper of your bag that hangs on your shoulder, ready to leave campus and call it a day.

It was particularly empty a few hours before the night, but there were a few still walking around. Your breathing had found a peaceful pace to follow until your eyes localized the nearest exit.

Entering there was a man, whose curls had disappeared into perfectly slicked hair, whose suit seemed to be impeccable and luxurious, whose bright loving eyes had turned into cold oceans, and whose warm smile had transformed into a frivolous expression.

Coriolanus Snow entered the hall, he hadn’t seen you, but you knew he would.

And you could have turned and walked all over campus to find another exit. But you wouldn’t.

Not when there are people already connecting dots with your presence and his in the same place.

With a big sigh, you focused your eyes on the door, in the falling sky that was preparing a sunset. You wouldn’t meet any face in the place just to avoid him. And as much as you tried to ignore the shivers, you could feel your hands shaking.

He saw you when he had you close enough to notice your red eyeshadow. He had already mastered the technique of hiding his feelings and expressions. But seeing you had erased any trace of practice. He let an inaudible gasp and almost stopped walking.

You looked very healthy in comparison to what he had heard. The scales he had seen were completely gone. Your eyes sparkled naturally and your hair looked very peculiar.

But any hope of interacting with you died the moment you passed by his side. Almost brushing your shoulders and you ignored him completely.

You had humiliated him. So he turned and started walking behind you. And the farther you moved, the more his anxiety started growing. He hadn’t even noticed he had followed you to the trolley station.

You heard him calling your name. But you ignored him. Your body relaxed as soon as the doors closed and the university disappeared from your sight.

Tears formed in your eyes, and you had to shut your eyes so harshly to avoid them from spilling.

…

It had turned into a cat-and-mouse game. You were almost running towards your apartment. Coriolanus knew your parents were working, so he had no problem chasing you to the door of your home.

“You won’t be able to run away every time, y/n… We need to talk” he said, knowing you could hear him through the other side of the door.

“I don’t want to talk with you” you replied, taking off your scarf and heels. Ignoring the way your heart still lounged for him it decreased its beats whenever you saw him talking with Livia on campus.

“You’re gonna listen to me one of these days”

“Go home, Coriolanus. Live your life and forget about me” he felt the pain in your words. And for some reason, it also hurt him.

“I can’t…” he whispered, hearing your footsteps walking away from the door.

With his obsessive nature flowing through him, he opened the door of the penthouse and was greeted by Tigris.

“Did you talk with her?” Coriolanus shook his head, and Tigris sighed.

“The other day I saw her at the market and she was so cold. I felt so sad when she said we acted like we didn’t care for her…” Coriolanus sighed at her words.

He wasn’t expecting you to encounter him with a big kiss like the one you gave him the last time he saw you. But he was getting impatient. He quickly understood that you weren’t jealous of Livia and if you actually were, you were brilliant at hiding it.

He learned that you were extremely hurt by him and his family. And he had to accept it was indeed his fault. You were the only reason he actually regretted things and wanted to say sorry.

He missed his best friend. Without you, he realized he was slowly becoming his father.

…

Of course, your mother would invite the Snows for dinner.

“Why would you do that?” You ask, polishing each fork and knife on the table, already feeling angry.

“I just want you and Coriolanus to be friends again, y/n. He’s such a good boy and he’s growing into a fine man…” you frown, leaning over a chair, facing your mother.

“He chose a filthy bohemian singer from the districts over me. That says everything about Coriolanus, mother…”

The woman also stops polishing the table utensils to look at you.

“He was just a kid, like you. We were struggling and he wanted power just like we all want… Focus on the man he is turning into, not the boy he was…” she says leaving.

“That’s exactly the problem…” you whisper.

You didn’t like the man he was turning into.

But you have to swallow your thoughts as soon as you hear voices from other than your parents. You sigh, knowing he has arrived. And it wasn’t like you wanted to impress him, but you wanted to show him that you were doing fine without him, that he hadn’t broken your heart, and that you didn’t care about him like you used to.

Coriolanus had just given your mother a hug when he saw you entering the room. To his eyes, you looked perfectly pretty.

You had an emerald dress with black tights and heels, your hair in an elegant bun, and some curls peeking over across your face. But your face was so serious. You barely glanced at him and Tigris when you greeted them. You only blink when Tigris mentions the Grandma’am was sick and couldn’t be at the dinner. Everyone noticed your awkward demeanor and your mother tried to break the ice.

“Coriolanus! Why don’t you and y/n go to check the oven?” You don’t oppose, you simply nod and leave without waiting for him to follow. But you can look over the corner of your eye at the fabric of his suit, dark grey, and his usual white rose on top of his heart. You couldn’t help but miss his curls, even when his new haircut made him mature and older.

Coriolanus saw you put on some kitchen gloves and he hurried to help.

“Let me check it…”

“I can do it myself, thanks” you reply coldly.

“Are you ever going to talk to me like a decent human?”

“Oh, I’m decent, very much compared to you. I need time, I have to put my thoughts in order” You were being honest.

“I won’t be waiting forever” he didn’t mean to sound so harsh but that’s the way he ended up sounding.

“Then you don’t really care about my forgiveness” he is about to protest, but you have moved away and taken out a giant turkey that must’ve been heavy enough to draw a sigh out of you. The whole interaction made him feel like an idiot. So he went to your side again.

“I miss you” he reveals, cringing at the sound of him being so vulnerable.

“You shouldn’t, you’re courting Livia Cardew”

“That’s not what it seems”

“I really don’t care, Coriolanus” you lied.

You start serving good portions and he has to start putting them on the table. He can hear your parents laughing with Tigris and he wishes everything was fine. Just like it was a couple of months ago. He really could see himself joking along with you, kissing you while you served the dinner, and being happy. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

“For now, the only I want you to know is that it was never my intention to hurt you. If I could’ve avoided all the pain, I would’ve, y/n” you harshly crash the knife against one of the porcelain plates, closing your eyes to calm your sudden anger.

“If you hadn’t mentioned my name to Gaul, if you hadn’t kissed me the day you won the games if you had called the day you left the Capitol, you would’ve avoided a lot of my pain. But you didn’t… Because you care more about yourself than for the two of us as equals, Snow”

He unconsciously unlocked many unpleasant memories. So many things you would never know. But when he got onto something, he didn’t stop until he could feel like a winner.

“I won’t let go of the person that was there for me when I had nothing. No matter what it takes…” you eyed him, overcoming your fear watching him at the eye and you fulminate him, with a look of defiance that he also senses.

Coriolanus lets you pass by him and he watches you disappear into the dining table.

A couple of hours later, your father has taken away Coriolanus to drink in his office. Coriolanus is amazed by all the things the old man has achieved. He admired and respected your father. So he didn’t take too long to notice your father was drunk. He has started telling him what happened when his grandfather lived in District 1 and he visited him.

“Then our baby was born there. That house must be ashes from the war but every time I look at it in pictures, it makes me feel like it’s still there…” Coriolanus almost dropped his glass.

“So y/n was born in District 1?” Your father nods, finishing a second bottle of posca. Coriolanus had never liked to drink and he took it as an advantage most of the time.

“Let me find the birth certificate…” you father said.

To Coriolanus, this was shocking. When your father took out an envelope, he handed him the certificate. You had two names and two last names. Born a later winter baby and with a tiny imprint of your feet. His fingers traced your name.

“This is probably our biggest secret, Coriolanus. But you’re family, we trust you, boy” said your father patting his shoulder.

Coriolanus smiled, tracing your second name once again. Then turned to see you talking with Tigris outside.

Things kept getting in his favor since we came back to the Capitol.

You felt his eyes but you ignored him, focusing on an uncomfortable Tigris that wanted to talk to you.

“Me and Grandma’am asked for you a couple of days after Coryo left. That’s when we learned you were sick. I swear we asked every week, but your parents got very busy and we barely saw them. Then we had to move out because of the rent payments. It was hard…”

You analyze her burgundy lipstick and you know she’s telling the truth.

“Do you know the asshole your cousin was?” She nods.

“I do. He saw you when Dr. Gaul had you in her laboratory. Coryo was scared, he looked shocked and he knew you wouldn’t forgive him. But I told him to be a man and apologize”

“I miss the boy he was… I miss my best friend” you admit, biting your tongue because you should’ve kept that to yourself.

“I’m afraid the districts changed him… he reminds me of…”

“His father” you finish for her.

Sadly, she nods to you.

“Grandma’am keeps asking Coryo when will you be back. He always tells her he’s trying to win you back” She changes the subject, attempting to make you smile.

But you only reply with a little chuckle and a sad smile.

…

For the next two weeks, you have been drained from any sense of certainty. You have Coriolanus Snow waiting at your door every morning, insisting to walk you to university because he knew you hated having chauffeurs, the Capitol wasn’t big enough to depend on a vehicle. It was a walkable city and you loved taking the trolley. So he had been punctual and he had walked you every single day.

You barely talked and he hated that. Until two days ago when Coriolanus made you smile. He noticed you tried to hide it but it had been late. Your smile filled him with pride and he got even more obsessed with winning you back.

The luck hadn’t run out of him, because that afternoon your mother knocked on his door to invite him and his family to the release party of her new winter collection.

The invitation made Tigris extremely happy and Coriolanus knew it was a great chance to get close to you.

But you had other plans. You took your mother’s party as a distraction from him. At the atelier, you spent the following days previous to the party. Lysistrata and Clemensia wanted a dress from your mother’s hands and you had no problem with having your friends there.

Three glasses of champagne rested on the center table, you were in underwear, waiting for one of the sewers to take measurements of your body.

“I still don’t know why you want to wear light pink. It’s a boring color, y/n” Clemmie said. You giggled, and as soon as you were free to move, you slipped on a black nightgown, hurrying to grab the design you and your mother had come up with nights ago.

“Because of this… is a reformed copy of my grandmother’s dress” Both of your friends analyzed the paper and ended up nodding.

“It’s very pretty” Lysistrata replied.

Clemensia wanted a bodycon dress in silver and Lysistrata wanted a blue maxi dress. The theme of the party was flower masquerade. The winter collection was all about silver, pastel pink, burgundy, and grey.

“Hey, yesterday in the session I had of psychology, Persephone and Urban were gossiping about Livia and Coriolanus. Apparently, he called it quits with her after you returned. They only had like two dates but it wasn’t working out either way”

“In what world would Livia Cardew and Coriolanus Snow get along so well to have dates?” Your friends laugh, but you are slightly nervous about the subject.

“Everyone is so invested in you two, though. It was already a matter of gossip back in the Academy. Now that we are basically… adults? It’s more notorious” you eye Lysistrata, realizing you probably were more popular than you thought you were.

“I can’t forgive him. I can only see a selfish man. Not my boy, the one I fell in love with…” you confess.

Clemensia and Lysistrata look at each other, unsure about what they should say to you.

“You could meet the new man he is, perhaps he’s not as bad as you think,” Lysistrata says.

“But stay alert. And don’t give in so easily….” You know Clemensia is right.

And you’re still unsure about even considering giving Coriolanus another chance.

Someone knocked on the door and it was an avox, he handed you a bouquet that you took confused. It had a note.

[ I hope we can match for the party] Of course it had to be from him.

“Speaking of the devil…’

“He sent you flowers?” Clemmie asked and you nodded.

You call the avox and hand him the note. On the blank side, you wrote “I don’t think you’re wearing a light pink suit”.

“Let’s focus on the dresses…” they both nod at you.

…

It surely was one of the most beautiful parties you had attended ever. The party was letting every attendee that your family had won enough power to host something so luxurious. The saloon was full of flowers, some even scattered in the giant chandeliers that hung in the high ceilings. The avoxes all had the same black mask and were serving rounds after rounds of fine alcohol.

Your friends got a table near the stairs, they were laughing and having a good time. You stood up to get a sweet treat since you hadn’t eaten since midday. There was this guy that tagged along and he turned out to be very funny. He was getting along Lysistrata and you liked the sight.

But in the eyes of a certain blonde, who had just arrived, it set him on fire from jealousy. Coriolanus wasn’t trying to get you back in vane. He got mad after seeing you laugh with that guy. He got tired of waiting.

His evil grin grows when he overhears Clemensia and Festus saying you had confessed you still loved him but you couldn’t forgive him. That made him relax a little, so he put on his best smile and approached you at the food table.

There were cookies, pastries, and a vast variety of cakes.

You could hear many people praising your mother’s designs. As you started chewing a lavender and lemon pastry, you felt a hand on your lower back.

“Congratulations to your mother” You turned to encounter Coriolanus. He had a black suit with barely visible thin grey stripes and his signature rose, in a light pink shade that perfectly matched your dress. His mask was black as well and his look, in general, reminded you of his last-minute outfit from the day of the reaping. You felt a pang in your heart because you could see a glimpse of the boy he was at that masquerade.

“You are not going to speak?” He asked.

“I was chewing…” you said, looking away from him.

“Indeed” With his index finger, he cleaned your lips from the cream of the pastry, which took you by surprise.

“We need to talk.”

“Now it’s not the best time, Coriolanus”

“I’m pretty sure it can’t wait. I wouldn’t suit you, especially on a day like this” his words confused you and for some reason it made you feel nervous.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“Like what, dear?” At the sound of his tone, you knew it wasn’t very good.

“Let’s go upstairs when the runway begins,” you said coldly.

The minutes pass flying and when the lights turn off and people gather to look at the fashion show, you and Coriolanus disappear upstairs.

There are plenty of rooms. Most of them are looked but you find one that’s open. It’s a restroom. It has low lights and a lot of mirrors as well as statues and paintings. In the center, there’s a velvet couch that you take to sit on.

You look at Coriolanus expectantly and he only eyes you deeply with his blue eyes.

“Would you marry me?” You frown, shock flooding you, but remain seated, gripping the cushion of the couch harshly.

“What?”

“If I told you I know you were born in the districts. Would you marry me?” You stand up furiously.

“DON’T YOU DARE, CORIOLANUS!” You yell, knowing nobody can hear you.

He grins and walks closing the distance between you two. You step backwards until he gently pushes you so you end up seated again.

“I told you I would get tired of waiting” Your eyes get teary.

“No, don’t cry, baby. I will treat you so right. I will make you a fine First Lady one day…” he whispers, caressing your face.

“Why are you so cruel?”

“I just want you to love me again”

“I did love you, Coriolanus. But it wasn’t enough for you” you retort with anger in your eyes. He smiled, an evil smile that made you mad, he gripped your chin so you couldn’t move away from him.

“I was a boy who didn’t know what it had. Now I’m not risking losing you again” You tried to stand up but he forced you to stay still. And then he kissed you.

His lips invaded yours. You couldn’t reciprocate, you wanted to run away and never come back. But he had other plans, he pinned your hands over your stomach and pushed you to lay on the couch.

When his knee had separated your legs, you opened your eyes in panic.

“Coriolanus, What are you doing?” He didn’t reply.

With one hand he bunched your dress over your lap and his lips started trailing kissing all over your knees to your inner thighs, you gasped and tried to close your legs.

“You can’t lie to my face that you don’t love me anymore. But I know you do. And your body can’t disguise it” he traced a finger over your underwear, the pink fabric denoting a darker spot that revealed your aching for his touch.

“Stop it” you demanded him. Coriolanus only chuckled.

“Who’s gonna understand you like I do? You can’t trust anyone but me, y/n” he said before moving your underwear aside and trailing your insides with his tongue.

You had to muffle a moan because you couldn’t give him the satisfaction, but that didn’t last long.

He had no experience because you knew he had never touched a woman. But he was a fast learner. Because he started making you feel so good. Coriolanus wanted to hear you moan his name, but he couldn't wait. He knew he was doing a good job because, at some point, you lifted one leg, your heel brushing his hip.

“I will never love you again,” you say between moans.

Coriolanus smirks.

“You already do. Just like me…”

You open your eyes and you turn to look at the mirrors. Coriolanus was under your dress and you were putting so much pressure on your stomach, trying to not lift your hips. You were so guilty. For giving into him. Because you still loved him and you secretly hoped he would be the man you wanted him to be.

_________________________________

Then the wedding, a trip to the districts, spooky encounter and finally love in part 3 or not?

Taglist: @sweet-n-serene @qoopeeya @ietss @commanderfreethatdust @starryyyshinomya44

[heesdreamer]

YOU MAKE ME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ struck with insomnia your entire life, you’ve taken to exploring the city restless all night. things change when you meet a tall boy with tired eyes and bruised knuckles

WARNINGS ➩ heeseung is lowkey crazy and obsessed with reader, parental death and abuse and implied violence, sexual scenes and commentary, mental health talk (especially insomnia)

WC ➩ 17k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ (i lied lol part 2 soon) NOOO PART 2 plz don’t request im so serious i rlly love this story and it’s completed it has nothing else to add! im glad you guys enjoy my work enough to want more but when there is no feedback in ur comment and just “need part 2” when i spent so much time writing 13k+ words it makes me feel terrible lol. i rlly hope you love this as much as me (NOT PROOFREAD)

Your mother used to tell you that she thought you were born from a piece of the moon.

When you were old enough to understand her and her strange sayings, she’d tell you stories about how when you were a baby you’d never sleep through a night. She looked mystified as she explained to you the ways in which you’d gain energy every time the sun set, becoming whiny and ornery whenever she’d take you with her to run errands during the day.

She told you how you struggled in school for most of your early years, always being found curled up in your backpack cubby or under the slides at the playground because you hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before.

You always were much more cynical than your mother, less of a dreamer and typically prone to aggravation or grumpy tired mumbles. She’d tell you your connection with the moon was a blessing, a lifelong friend for you and you’d retort back that it was a nuisance.

When your mom died you finally realized what she had meant for the first time. You spent nights awake, like usual, but now they were accompanied by nothing but the sounds of your low sobs and your father drinking himself stupid just below your bedroom. It wasn’t until you cracked open your bedroom window for some fresh winter air did you catch sight of the moon and finally feel it, finally feel the connection you’d always been told you had.

Years had passed now and while you didn’t cry every night anymore, you still rarely found yourself able to sleep through the night.

You’d also turned your back on the moon again now that you were older and still just as restless, sleeping throughout your classes and lacking any social life considering the way you wandered through the halls like a ghost with sunken eyes and dark circles.

It was frustrating to you that nothing seemed to be working, no amount of teas or yoga exercises. You’d gone as far as to take prescribed sleep medication, only working enough to make you more exhausted than you already were yet not putting you to rest like you were longing for.

Years of trying and you’ve mostly given up, accepted your condition and never once considered it the blessing your mother had tried to convince you it was.

Blessings wouldn’t leave your bones aching, they wouldn’t leave you slow blinking trying to understand what your teachers were saying or stumbling holding your lunch tray. Blessings surely wouldn’t have you stood in the middle of a dirty 7/11, clutching three bags of chips and a large slushee while you impatiently waited for the two people in front of you to move along.

You’d realized a few things by being a night owl, only ever interacting with people having the same issue as you or people who worked early enough that you’d pass by them on your way back to your house.

You’d taken to spending your nights awake out in the city, sick of staring at your ceiling or scrolling down the same boring timelines that carried nothing but the same content posted thousands of times with different wordings. So you started to explore at some point during high school, each night pushing yourself to wander further and find something interesting before heading back.

Sometimes you ended up at the river, sitting and watching drunk older men laugh with their friends like they were teenagers, catching the ends of failed dates as they walked home with their heels in their hands.

Other times you sat and drank coffee in the few 24 hour shops scattered around the city, sipping it slowly until it was cold and the added sugar was hardening at the bottom of your paper cup.

Most times however you simply found yourself stood in this exact position, holding your snacks of choice and tapping your foot impatiently while you waited for the drunk college students in front of you to stop joking around with the exhausted cashier and pay for their beers. It wasn’t that late yet, not quite the time of night that got you weird stares for wandering around in your pajamas.

You could hear the cashiers tired voice repeating their total to them, asking if they wanted to pay with cash or card and you sighed softly. You tilted to the side with an exaggerated sway so you could see over their laughing bodies, vaguely meeting eyes with the boy behind the counter before flopping back to your original position.

A heavy sigh was slipping out of your mouth before you even realized it and one of the drunk men turned back to look at you, an eyebrow cocked in offense as he let out a nasty laugh after taking you in.

You were pretty used to that reaction, standing in your plaid pajamas with your favorite bunny slippers and knitted hat. Your eyes were low and heavy with sleep deprivation, an annoyed glint to your expression that seemed to aggravate him further once the glare was set towards him.

“Are we bugging you Ms?” He was asking it in a mockingly sweet tone, clearly antagonizing you due to your impatience. You sighed again and your eyes drifted to the side for a moment in indifference, too exhausted to hold a conversation let alone argue with a grown man who didn’t know how to behave in a public setting.

“Yeah.. a little bit.” You were casually mumbling after a few beats of him and his friend staring at you, realizing now they weren’t going to just let you go without a response.

He was scoffing like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard and you felt a little jolt of your inner alert system when he was taking a step towards you, his much larger frame slightly intimidating on top of the fact he was drunk and not thinking clearly.

He stopped early in his advances however and you were confused for a second before you registered the sound of the cashier clearing his throat, the two men turning back to look at him with an incredulous look. When you’d first gotten a glimpse of him he’d been bent over the counter, his elbows resting against it with a bored expression but now that he was standing up to his full height you faltered a bit at how tall he was.

The two men seemed to be thinking the same thing as you, suddenly hesitant in their childish behavior and awkwardly handing him a wadded up bill before taking their case of beer and staggering out of the convenience store.

“Thanks.” You were muttering and dumping your snacks out onto the counter, awkwardly catching one of the candy bars that bounced off a bag of chips and almost fell back onto the ground.

“No problem.” He was responding back with a small shrug and you glanced at him curiously, scanning his tired eyes down to the work uniform that didn’t fit him properly.

“You’re not Jake.” You were announcing and he faltered in his scanning, eyes widening a touch as he looked down at you. He was wearing a name tag but you came by often enough to know that it wasn’t his own, never having seen him before and growing used to the friendly smile the usual third shifter would give you every time you dragged yourself in.

“Uh.. no. I’m not, yeah you’re right.” He was awkwardly muttering back and you almost felt bad for calling him out so directly so you laughed a bit to ease the tension, just as awkward considering you weren’t used to extended social interaction this late at night. “He had a concert he couldn’t miss.. asked me to take over.”

You were nodding softly, mouth parting in understanding and awkwardly shuffling while the conversation quickly died into a weird silence. The sounds of your slippers against the tiled floor was scratchy and too loud for your taste, making you wince slightly at how embarrassing this whole interaction was.

“Are you getting paid?” You don’t know why you asked him another question, why you were carrying on a conversation when it’d been years since you’d had one randomly like this but you liked the way his big eyes flickered back up to you.

“Yeah of course.” He was breaking out into a wide grin at the mention of it, finishing scanning your snacks and looking at the register for a second like he’d forgotten what to do next. “I’m normally up all night anyways so I don’t mind much.”

This piqued your interest but you kept your face neutral, nodding softly and picking at the peeling leather of your wallet while you waited for him to give you your total. He was looking up at you again before he spoke and his eyes landed on your hat for a second, still smiling softly as he looked at the knitted bunny ears.

You cleared your throat and he stopped staring, stammering out how much it had cost you and you slid a few bills over to him while watching the way he fumbled around trying to get the register to open.

“Well… have a good night then.” You were mumbling to him while grabbing the plastic bags he was handing you over the clear divider, your fingers brushing against his warm knuckles for a second. “Not Jake.”

“Goodnight.” He was casually saying back and you wanted to correct him on his wording and tell him you didn’t sleep much either, tell him you understood filling your nights with mindless task and the dark circles under his big eyes. Instead you just bit the inside of your cheek and turned to leave. “Have fun wandering.”

——

You’d left early the next night, starting your walk around midnight instead of the usual 3am and you hurried down to the bus stop that would take you deep into the city. You pulled your headphones on tight and chewed on your lip as you waited for the stop you were planning to get off at.

When you got there, you were tugging on the stop signal line and standing up before the driver pulled the brakes. You swayed slightly when he came to a complete stop and you thanked him as you hopped off the high step, speed walking towards your destination and adjusting your bunny hat on your head before you passed through the doors.

The loud chime of the stores entrance bell rang uncomfortably loud through your ears and you winced at the volume, ducking behind one of the tall shelves and grabbing a few snacks at random before making your way over to the register.

Jake was there again now, giving you that familiar greeting smile and you couldn’t help but feel a small wave of disappointment. You weren’t sure why you thought the boy from last night would be back again considering he’d clearly told you he was just filling in for his friend but you frowned slightly and mumbled a greeting to the boy in front of you instead.

“You’re here early.” Jake was starting and you almost sighed. He was friendly and you admired how much energy he had but he often tried to engage in conversation with you whenever you came by, despite the annoyed glances you occasionally threw his way. “You almost missed me.”

You picked your head up at this, suddenly more alert and raising an eyebrow towards him in interest. As far as you knew, Jake was the only third shift worker and he must’ve barely started considering how early in the night it still was so he must’ve meant he was leaving before his usual time.

“Who’s going to watch the store then?” You were asking him and you tried to ignore how knowing the smile he was giving you was, laughing slightly at the fact you were suddenly interested in what he had to say for the first time ever.

“My best friend, Heeseung.” He was responding slowly and you faltered slightly, not knowing the boy from yesterday’s name so you didn’t want to get too excited over nothing. “He helped me out last night and said it was more interesting than he expected so he offered again.”

“He offered?” You were speaking before he even finished his last syllable and you flushed with embarrassment at the look he gave you, shuffling awkwardly on your feet and waiting for him to respond now that you confirmed it was the same person.

He didn’t say anything but he gave a soft hum of agreement and continued to swiftly bag your snacks, much more natural and efficient than his friend but you liked the way Heeseung stared at the register like it was an alien object. You were interested in him just from the small conversation you had, although feeling uncomfortable at the emotion considering it wasn’t something you usually felt.

You chalked it down to the fact he reminded you of yourself, not so much in his lazy smiles and casual demeanor but something about the way his tired eyes looked around.

Jake was opening his mouth again to speak and you looked up at him curiously but you both froze at the sound of the entrance bell ringing again, looking over to see the boy in question entering.

He froze when he saw the two of you staring at him, eyes falling to your hat and then down to your face which caused his to flicker with recognition. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, looking even taller now that he wasn’t standing behind the counter.

Heeseung was wearing a large hoodie pulled over his head and you could see the wires of his headphones going down into his shirt, tangled around his wrist that was clutching onto the strap of the backpack he was wearing. It was light looking and you weren’t sure if he had anything inside it or if he was just carrying it to give himself something to hold onto.

“Hey.” Jake was smiling at him and simultaneously handing you your plastic bag full of random snacks, hitting you with the reminder you had no real reason to stay in the store now despite the fact Heeseung had just arrived.

“Um.. thanks.” You were awkwardly muttering and taking it from him, shifting a few steps towards the door but stopping when you realized the tall boy was still standing in front of it and you had no way around him.

He was watching you still with a curious expression and you felt embarrassed suddenly, knowing Jake must have pieced together your reason for coming here so early and now he was watching you clam up and leave before you’d even gotten the chance to speak a word to the boy.

You were just standing there in silence, waiting for him to move and silently praying he would do you didn’t have to awkwardly shuffle around his large frame, when he suddenly was adjusting the backpack on his shoulders and clearing his throat while looking past you towards his friend.

“Change of plans. I’m busy tonight.” He was saying in a low determined voice and you could hear Jake sigh from behind you, your eyes widening slightly in confusion until the other boy was looking back at you with a small smile on his face. “Want to hang out with me?”

It took a few seconds for you to register he was actually asking you, staring up at him with an open mouth and stuttering for a moment before giving up on a verbal answer and nodding your head swiftly. He smiled even more at that and then he was waving goodbye to his friend, turning back around and holding the door open for you so you could quickly scurry out of it.

You weren’t too sure what to do, still feeling too nervous to speak clearly so you paused and waited to see if he would say something first. He didn’t but he lifted an eyebrow and gave you an expectant look, silently telling you that you were in charge of your destination for the night.

The pressure of a decision made you sigh softly and you gave him a weird look that made him chuckle, thinking for a moment before turning on your heel and walking away. He jogged slightly to catch up with you and you walked in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“Can I ask where we are going?” He was eventually mumbling, leaning down and towards you slightly so you could hear him at his low volume. Your lip curled up at the fact he was whispering for no reason.

“You don’t trust me?” You were asking him back and your teasing attitude seemed to catch him off guard for a second, raising his hands in mock defense and cocking an eyebrow in challenge.

“I do trust you actually, weirdly.” He paused and you could feel him looking sideways at you. You ignored his gaze and kept facing forward, following the sidewalk that was cutting through the park near the river. “Considering you don’t even know my name.”

You almost replied telling him that you did know his, that you’d been repeating it in your mind since Jake had informed you of it in the store but you figured that would be too forward and instead you just hummed softly. He didn’t ask you for your name, or even offer his and for some reason you had a feeling he already knew it.

Possibly asking Jake about you, an easy answer considering your unusual attire and late night arrival, and that being the reason behind the cashiers knowing smirk when you pushed through the glass door.

“Is this what you normally do?” He was talking again after a few more minutes of silent walking and this time, it was your turn to look at him from the side of your eye. “Walk around?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and you felt one of the bunny ears from your hat fall off your shoulder at the movement. You weren’t sure why you didn’t give him a straight forward answer, knowing perfectly well your usual routine.

It felt strange to be accompanied by somebody even though he wasn’t talking much, you could tell he was thinking and wanting to ask you things and as much as you were intrigued by him it was slightly unsettling you to be around somebody for this long.

You spent most your days isolated, not having anybody to talk to at home considering any attempt of conversation with your father usually ended poorly anyways, eventually giving up altogether unless he was grunting something to you every morning when you wandered back into the house.

At school it was relatively the same, or most times worse. You don’t think the other students necessarily meant to complete ice you out but nobody seemed to know how to talk to you after your mom died, at first being overly compassionate and eager to empathize with you vocally and then eventually fading off into small pitiful smiles when they met your tired eyes in the hallway or eyeing you when you came into class late with messy hair.

Heeseung didn’t seem to be giving you any of these looks, he looked confused by your behavior at times but it was accompanied by small smirks or friendly chuckles.

You once again wondered why he was awake right now, why he seemed like he was used to this setting as much as you and not like he was forcing himself to stay up for the sake of making a new friend. You were curious what he was thinking about and what lead him to ask you to hang out in the first place.

“Have you been to the coffee shop on 44th?” He was suddenly asking and breaking you from your train of thought, his voice still in a low whisper.

“Why are you being quiet?” You ignored his question and raised an eyebrow in his direction, tugging on your sleeve and watching the way he faltered slightly.

“Guess I’m not used to talking to somebody this late.” He was shrugging now and he almost looked embarrassed at your question, making you feel slightly guilty for making him uncomfortable.

It wasn’t that late yet, people were still wandering around from bars and late night dinners and you could hear the squeal of the bus brakes still running. The city was rarely ever dark, even in the parks near the bridge but the mood changed sometime around 4am and you felt like the trees were sleeping. Everything was still awake now however and Heeseung whispering was driving you a bit crazy.

“What about Jake?” You were asking him more now, trying to make conversation so he knew you didn’t mean any harm from your comment.

“Jake’s a freak of nature.” He was relaxing again at the mention of his friend, a smile naturally slipping back onto his face at the familiar topic. “You know he works this shift and still goes to school? He even plays football at Hope.”

The mention of your schools college made you freeze for a second, faltering in your step and causing him to look back at you with concern, turning his body so he could face you now that you were lagging behind him. He raised an eyebrow at you and you gave him a confused look.

“You guys go to Hope?” You were saying it slowly so he heard you clearly and his head cocked like a confused dog.

“I don’t, Jake is older than us.” His use of the word threw you off completely and he must’ve noticed because he let out an awkward laugh at your reaction, scratching his neck in embarrassment. “We’re in the same grade.”

“We like… as in me and you?” You rushed out and he nodded his head, hands coming up in panic when you let out a low groan of guilt.

“It’s okay, don’t worry! I didn’t recognize you at first either, it’s a big class.” He was rambling to try and make you feel better about the fact you didn’t even realize he was your classmate, his comfortable behavior suddenly making more sense. You’d definitely never spoken to him but the fact he’d seen you around such a familiar place would make more sense towards why he was so willingly to walk around with you in the middle of the night.

“I’ve been there since Kindergarten.” You blurted out with wide eyes, exclaiming loudly in pure shock that you’d been so oblivious.

“Me too..” He was awkwardly offering with a wince like he knew it would just make the situation worse that’d you’d been classmates for over a decade.

You raised your sweater covered hands up to your face and groaned loudly, pulling your bunny ears in front of your eyes so you didn’t have to look at his sheepish expression anymore. You could hear him laughing softly at how dramatic you were being and you moved one ear to the side to send him a half glare.

“It’s really okay.” He was laughing out and you could see his soft smile from your one uncovered eye, watching him with a flushed face and growing embarrassment the more amused he became. “It’s not like you’re there much anyways.”

He was saying it casually, like he hadn’t even thought about it before it came out of his mouth but you both froze up at the same time at his accidental admission. You slowly moved your ears to the side and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning your upper half forward slightly and trying not to smile at the fact he was now the one flushing in embarrassment.

“So you notice me?” You were dragging out the words and your lip curled up in amusement, racking through your mind for times you’d seen the tall boy and coming up blank. In your defense, your entire school catalogue section of your brain was completely empty and that included cute boys with giant backpacks.

“I mean… well it’s just like… it’s not like I was stalking you or anything.” He was rambling on and moving his hands around a lot like he was really trying to prove his point, going back to awkwardly scratching at his neck when you gave him a disbelieving look.

“Heeseung.” You cut him off and he paused for a second in surprise, making you realize you’d just said his name without ever asking him for it.

He seemed to relax at that, knowing you also knew more about him than you were previously letting on and his shoulders lowered now that he was less tensed. He looked like he wanted to speak again but you felt embarrassed suddenly and took a few steps forward slowly, waiting for him to get the memo that you wanted to continue on your walk.

The two of you fell back into another spout of silence, awkward at first and then more comfortable as you got deeper into the city. It was more relaxed accompanied by the sounds of people laughing and cars honking their horns, kitchen staff wishing each other goodnight as they left different restaurants and swapped signs over to closed.

You were glancing over at Heeseung after a while and you studied him for a moment while he wasn’t paying attention, his big eyes looking around the city with the same expression you assumed you often had. No matter how many times you came down here, you always felt the exact same.

You always had this longing to capture the moment in some sort of way, giving up on photographs and videos quickly into your new habit considering they simply never were able to fully express how it felt. You tried writing about it, talking about the city always felt awake and how it unsettled you in a way that felt like a friendly challenge and not like your world flipping upside down.

“Where do you go?” You were asking him before you even realized it, watching his side profile as his big eyes opened wide for a second at the sudden sound of your voice and then darted right to look at you.

He seemed to think for a second and then he answered slowly. “I don’t know actually. Just here I guess, I just like to be here I think.”

The two of you watched each other for a few beats, holding the others gaze and you liked the way the neon signs behind you were reflecting off his round dark eyes. It was like a little piece of the city was frozen inside them and you almost said that to him before swallowing it, realizing how creepy it would sound out loud.

You didn’t say much else for the rest of the night, wandering around a bit more before eventually settling at one of the small parks near the center of the main area of downtown. You sat in silence like that, you pulling out your notebook that had few words and many sketches and Heeseung playing with the strings of his headphones as he listened to music.

You could faintly hear it coming from them, loud enough to reach you a few feet away and you considered telling him he was able to play it out loud if he wanted to but for some reason you felt like it was private, leaving him to listen by himself.

When the night was slowly changing into that familiar blue color, the stage right in the center of night and day when everything is coated in the indigo filter, you were standing up off the ground and dusting off your pants. Heeseung was looking up at you due to your sudden movement and you stood over him, offering him a hand so you could pull him up.

It was mainly his own strength put into moving his weight forward considering he was a lot taller than you and you were quite weak due to your lack of sleep, but he seemed to appreciate the friendly gesture and gave you a small smile after he was back on his feet.

“What bus do you take?” He was asking you on your way back to the 7/11 and you felt him looking at the side of your face.

“15.” You answered slowly, your voice softer now as the exhaustion started to seep in. You were suddenly grateful it was a weekend, the social interaction leaving you more tired than normal and hopefully giving you the opportunity to sleep an hour or two. “You?”

“Same, but Jake is bringing me home with him today.” He was mumbling and nodded your head, picking at the skin around your nails and feeling more guilt at the fact you’d never seen him on the bus before either. “Did you want a ride home?”

His question was surprising you and your eyes widened, looking at him and seeing the concern pass over his face at your sudden change of demeanor. You were shaking your head quickly, ears swooshing around your head and you raised a hand to shake it, really emphasizing your denial.

You couldn’t imagine your fathers reaction to you being brought home by a car, especially one that contained two teenage boys in the front seat. It already took him long enough to stop punishing you for leaving at night, eventually giving up on denying you your freedom once you started to pace around the house all night instead.

“Alright, no problem.” He said quickly and you were glad he didn’t push the topic although you could tell he wanted to, a curious look on his features. Heeseung seemed to have a habit of clearly showcasing his emotions and you were grateful considering it made him easier to understand but frustrated when it was a look of pity or sympathy on his face.

You didn’t say anything when he continued to walk with you past the convenience store, walking side by side on the sidewalks even as they thinned out as you slightly left the city area.

He still didn’t speak again even when you both stood together and waited for the bus to arrive, him leaning against the plastic material covering the stops bench and you standing outside of it so the driver didn’t just blow right past you, not expecting somebody out this late.

It was you that finally turned towards him once you caught sight of the bus approaching, tugging on one of your ears awkwardly and shuffling your feet while you waited for it to get closer. You could hear it squealing to a stop, the doors creaking open while he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m…” His stare was throwing you off and you started to falter in your words while nervously looking behind you towards the driver who was waiting. “I’ll be here tomorrow around the same time so… if you wanted to.. or if like..”

You trailed off with a sigh but he seemed to get the general idea, a small smile on his face as he dipped his head down slightly in a conforming nod, relief washing over you at the fact he hadn’t found your indirect invitation weird or out of place. You raised your hand in a wave goodbye and he returned, watching you as you pulled your headphones over your hat and ears and boarded the bus swiftly, softly thanking the driver for waiting and finding a seat towards the back.

You could see him outside the window as you pulled off, still leaning against the booth and watching the bus as it left until it rounded the corner. You flushed at the fact he had walked you to your stop despite needing to return back to the city area to get a ride from Jake, not even hesitating when you passed by the store earlier.

It was exciting to be interested in somebody or even something at all, rarely feeling too extreme of emotions considering how dull and hazy everything became with your repeated exhausted routine. Not even your father, sprawled on the couch and surrounded by empty beer cans, could damper your mood as you entered your small house.

It took you a long time, hours staring at your ceiling with a half wandering mind but you eventually managed to get a little bit of sleep, thoughts of Heeseung and his wired headphones accompanying you.

——

The routine continued like this for awhile and you slowly got accustomed to it, now expecting to see him every time you boarded the bus and he was already there waiting for you with his large backpack saving you the seat beside him.

Sometimes you didn’t talk, walking in silence for hours or finding a nice place to sit and do your own individual activities side by side. Other nights you struck up small conversation, talking about the city and your favorite places to go and every once in a while delving into deeper categories that slowly chipped away at the uncomfortable feeling that always came along with attempting to trust somebody.

Heeseung was nice to you and you liked that about him as selfish as it sounded. He never expected you to answer his questions and he rarely pried, around the second day he had even started to pull out snacks from his backpack and hand them over to you after he opened them.

It was a bit into meeting now and he was walking you back to the bus stop, large hands tightly holding onto the straps of his backpack like they always were. He had lots of little habits like that and you carefully filed them all away in your memory. Sometimes he boarded the bus with you but others he just walked with you down there before leaning against the booth and waiting for you to round the corner.

Sometimes you wanted to ask him where he lived, he had to be further away from the city than you considering he was always on the bus before you at the start of the night but that would put him at even more of a distance from your school than you were already at.

Speaking of school, you’d yet to see him around the building and you surprised yourself by actually keeping an eye out throughout the day. You were scanning your tired eyes around the cafeteria and turning your dizzy head in classrooms to see if he was present but you’d not caught sight of him yet and you felt weird about asking where he was.

Maybe he didn’t want to be friends outside of the few hours of the night you spent together, time almost nonexistent here. You felt like the world was frozen most nights you spent with him around the city and you figured he must prefer that aspect versus actually interacting with you in the daytime where other people could see.

You were too distracted in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your brain was auto-piloting and boarding onto the bus before you even checked if he was coming along, going to turn around to see and completely missing the first large step off the ground. You fell forward and you imagined your side would’ve painfully landed directed on the jagged edges of the steps but you didn’t get a chance to find out, suspending in mid air considering Heeseung had jolted forward to grab onto you.

You could feel his hand wrapped around your side, the other placed in the middle of your shoulder blades so he could support your weight without falling forward himself. Your eyes were wide from almost hurting yourself and you flushed bright red at the concerned look on his face, helping you back to a standing position but keeping his hand on your waist even after you were fully stable.

The bus driver was clearing his throat and Heeseung glanced behind him awkwardly like he was originally not meant to get on the bus, but he turned back towards you and took a step onto the same one you were standing on.

It didn’t pass by you that this was the closest you’d ever been to him, normally keeping a few feet between you when you found a place to sit for the night and rarely ever being close enough to bump shoulders while walking side by side. Now, since he was stood on the same small step as you, you were practically pushed up against him while his hand was still gently against your side despite not having a reason to hold onto you anymore.

He was leaning forward, his chest pressing against you more and you awkwardly looked down at his feet instead of focusing on how tall he was at this distance, and you vaguely registered the fact he was paying for both of your bus tickets.

He seemed to catch on to the fact you were out of it a bit and losing focus, his hand pushing into your side slightly to let you know it was time to fully enter the bus and find your seats. You expected him to let you go once you entered the thin aisle but he didn’t and even when he was stood behind you walking towards the back, he kept his hand around your waist like he was guiding you.

It was removed once you took your seats and you found yourself still able to feel it for some reason, the feeling burned into your mind as he awkwardly cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck again.

You glanced over at him and his nervous demeanor, his hands fidgeting with his ripped pants now like he was also still reeling from the feeling of touching you so randomly. His hair was messy like normal but it was getting longer now, falling forward into his eyes so you couldn’t quite see what his expression was. You watched him as he put his headphones in but you leaned forward slightly to confirm that he wasn’t actually playing any music.

“Did you have somewhere to be?” You were asking him softly and then repeating it louder when you realized his headphones might block out some of your volume.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and took the one closest to you out of his ear, wrapping it around the outside instead and thinking for a second before he gave you an answer.

“Not necessarily.” He was mumbling back but sighing softly when you gave him a disbelieving look. “Okay well kind of but I want to get you home first.”

“I barely tripped.” You were rolling your eyes at him being overly concerned but the flush in your face gave you away and he laughed softly.

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you a little bit longer.” He was shrugging and turning his head to look at you better, smiling more at the way you squeezed your shoulders together and awkwardly glared forward at the floor.

“We could always hang out in school.” You were offering after a few beats of silence and you immediately regretted it, not sure how it even managed to escape your lips considering you’d already told yourself you weren’t going to question him.

His initial reaction didn’t give anything away to you, face remaining blank like he hadn’t put much thought into it but you noticed his hands starting to pick at the tape wrapped around his headphone wire and you felt guilty for bringing it up. You were about to back track and tell him to forget about it or change the subject but he was humming softly.

“I think that’d be nice.” He was saying it casually but there was a nervous edge to his voice and your mouth was downturned slightly. “Where do you eat lunch at?”

“Near the side doors.” You were answering smoothly although you left out the fact you more so used the free half an hour for a quick nap instead of actually eating. “You?”

“The library.” He was saying it hesitantly like he wasn’t sure if he should lie or not, knowing full well there was a no eating policy in that section of the school and you’d realize he wasn’t actually eating at lunch either. You both paused for a second in heavy silence before you were snorting a laugh.

“So you’re a loser basically?” Your comment was teasing and he visibly relaxed at your reaction, chuckling softly and nudging you with his thin shoulder.

“Sorry to disappoint Ms. Popular.” He was retorting back and you were glad to see the small smile return to his face and stay there now that you’ve both established this change in routine.

You wondered if he’d been thinking about it too, keeping an eye out for you or if he was actively avoiding you throughout the hallways like you’d previously thought. Maybe he figured the same as you, that you wouldn’t want to be suddenly seen with him or you wouldn’t acknowledge him and it would ruin the friendship you were slowly building.

When you got off the bus it was nice to see him still there, trying not to wince at how close the stop was to your house and how if it didn’t pull off immediately he’d see you walk up to the overgrown grass with windows titled off their hinges.

You tried not to think about it and after you gave him a small wave through the window you turned on your heel and kept your face forward, steely in your resolve to not spare him another nervous glance. This time you father didn’t seem to be home and you were grateful for that considering you had a feeling you were absolutely radiating with how much you were thinking about the boy.

It was hard to go to sleep, even more so than normal, with the ghost of his hand pressed again you and the knowledge that tomorrow you now knew where to find him. It was up to the two of you to decide if you used this information or ignored it and you weren’t sure which route he was hoping you’d take.

——

“I thought you’d forgotten about me for a second there.” Heeseung’s low voice was hitting your ears the second you crossed into the library and you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing him.

You were worried for the first half of the day that it would be awkward, that you wouldn’t know what to say to each other and it would ruin everything you’d be enjoying so much, but you knew from the second he spoke that you’d made the right choice in coming to find him.

“I was about to give up.” You scowled at him and placed your bag down on the back of the chair, climbing up and sitting across from him at the high top round table in the back of the library. “You’re hard to track down.. plus the librarian kept glaring at me every time I passed her desk like I was trying to steal her books.”

“She’s probably just used to only seeing me.” He was explaining with a small smirk at your complaining and you frowned at him softly while taking a second to take him in.

You weren’t sure why you expected him to look different during the day time, feeling a bit stupid now that you looked at him and he looked exactly the same. Almost exactly, outside of how much more exhausted he looked now that he was running on even less sleep, his hair was messier than it was around 2am and he was nervously looking around.

Heeseung was always handsome to you, despite the fact you tried to pretend you didn’t think so the first few times you hung out, but you noticed things about him under the school lights that you had missed outside in the near dark.

For one, he had his eyebrow pierced. You’re not exactly sure how you managed to not notice that considering you were currently frozen to your seat as you saw it gleaming against the light when he turned his head to look at you in confusion.

He looked embarrassed at the fact you were staring at him so intensely and he brought a hand up to mess with his bangs, the face jewelry disappearing back behind his hair and showcasing why you failed to see it before. His hand had bandaids on a few of his fingers and you almost asked him about them until he tucked them back into his hoodie sleeves.

“You don’t eat?” He was clearing his throat and asking you in a low tone, leaning forward slightly to ensure that you could hear him.

You were shaking your head softly and then shrugging, almost becoming awkward enough to regret coming. “Foods no good here anyway.”

He watched you for a few seconds and you were curious what he was thinking, if he was making similar observations as you. You were suddenly reminded you couldn’t wear your bunny hat to school and it might be the first time he’s seen you without it, seen how dark your under eyes are and how dry and chapped your lips become this time of year.

You didn’t like that you thought about this, didn’t like that you cared about what he was thinking about your appearance.

“We could go get some food after school.” He was suggesting it with a shrug but his eyes were watching you intensely with a hint of hesitance, almost like he was expecting you to say no.

You felt like your breath caught for a few seconds, holding tightly in your chest and you hoped your eyes didn’t widen too much at his suggestion. He was still watching you but his eyes softened slightly at your surprised expression, amused that you seemed just as nervous as he was about this change of pacing.

“Are you paying?” You were eventually wheezing out after a few seconds, letting the words tumble out at the same time your big gulp of air did.

His smile was familiar, the same one he gave you when he caught you staring at him in the park for a sketch reference, the same one he would offer everytime you’d skip onto the bus and grin once you caught sight of him saving your seat. You thought it looked even better in the sunlight.

——

You tried not to think about how weird it was that you and Heeseung left school together, side by side and bumping into each other while navigating the hoard of students all trying to squeeze out of the doors to escape the building.

You wondered if anybody else thought it was weird, if anyone paid enough attention to you in recent years to wonder who the tall boy next to you was. The boy who was currently snaking a hand down to your side like he had at the bus, gently guiding you through a gap in the crowd so you could get outside faster than it would be to stand and wait.

Your face was flushing bright red but he luckily seemed to focused on getting out of the mass of people to realize, eyebrows furrowed in a stressed out expression.

He didn’t remove his hand even after you’d gotten out of the tight pile of bodies, keeping it there comfortably but you knew by the heavy silence that you both were aware it wasn’t anything normal for him to do. You almost couldn’t tell, almost convinced yourself this was his typical behavior and you’d somehow just not realized it, but when you caught his eye and he quickly looked away with a small pink to his cheeks you knew it wasn’t.

Little things were different during daytime hours but not enough to make your head completely spin, giving you that familiar overwhelmed feeling that left you taking deep breaths in the bathroom stall.

The bus was actually full of people for once, only one seat left in the middle of the aisle and Heeseung hurriedly sat you down on it before it was taken. He was standing above you holding onto the pole near the top of the ceiling and you would’ve felt bad he had to do that so you could sit if it wasn’t for the small glances and grins he was sending down your way every time he caught you staring.

When you reached further into the city, somewhere you didn’t fully recognize but he must’ve considering the was leaning forward towards you and tugging on the stop rope, you both thanked the driver and left the bus.

You tried not to be disappointed when he didn’t hold onto you again, silently cursing yourself for feeling that way anyways and pushing it down. You took your backpack off your shoulders as you walked and held it in front of you, fishing for something inside with an annoyed sigh after a few seconds passed without feeling it.

Eventually the familiar fabric was grazing your fingers and you smiled softly as you pulled out your hat and situated it over your head again, pulling a few pieces of hair out in the front and glancing over at Heeseung who had been watching you.

“Woah Y/N, when’d you get here?” He was mock gasping, a hand coming up to cover his mouth and stumble back on the sidewalk like you had surprised him.

You grumbled at his antics and elbowed him in the side, trying to pretend your heart didn’t pick up in pace when he laughed loudly at your reaction and grabbed onto your jacket so he didn’t go tumbling into the street from your small shove. He didn’t let go for a few seconds even after he was steadied, rubbing the materiel between his fingers before dropping it.

You wondered if he was always this touchy with people or if he had just grown comfortable with you fast considering the strange and slightly intimidate circumstances you’d been hanging out under.

He was walking side by side with you but you were following his lead, still not exactly sure where he was bringing you to. You fell back into a comfortable silence like you always did as you traversed the city and you felt a little bit dizzy due to exhaustion and the bright glare of the sun.

It only worsened when you were rounding a corner, passing by a large building that was originally blocking your view of the next street over, and you caught sight of a familiar back that caused you to freeze in your tracks.

Heeseung took a few steps forward before realizing you weren’t continuing and he turned back to look at you with a concerned expression, approaching you again and standing in front of you. His large frame was blocking your view now but you slowly leaned over to look past him and immediately shot back to hide behind his chest and wince.

“What’s wrong?” He was rushing out and his eyebrows were furrowed with worry, a hand coming up but stopping just short of your arm like he wasn’t sure he was supposed to touch you.

“I-I have to go.” You were rushing out and you felt embarrassed underneath your panic, hands shaking slightly and you swallowed harshly.

He was frowning and turning his body to look behind him and try to see whatever had spooked you, immediately whipping back around due to the fact him moving had allowed you to see the man again, this time facing your direction with a suspicious look on his face. You imagined it was due to the fact Heeseung was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk but your heart started to race so hard it was painful at the chance he had seen you.

“Who is that?” Heeseung was, thankfully, getting the idea slowly and lowering his face as he spoke to you. You didn’t answer immediately and he was bending down so he was closer to your face, his hand finally connecting to your arm and cupping the back of your elbow. “Y/N, who is that?”

“It’s my dad.” You whispered back in a harsh tone and you’re not sure why you said it, never talking about family or each others parents before and never planning to.

Heeseung paused for a second and then his eyes were darkening like he had figured something else out, you felt humiliated knowing he must be piecing together every strange reaction you’ve ever had to the suggestion of being brought home by Jake or for him to walk you to your door.

He was glancing behind him again and a small noise of protest slipped out of your mouth, your hands coming up to land on his chest and scrunch his hoodies fabric up in your hands. He was looking back at you quickly and his eyes softened at the scared expression on your face but could still see anger swimming in his.

You weren’t sure if Heeseung was a violent person, thinking there was no way it was possible for the boy who was as sweet to you as he was unprompted, to ever willingly harm somebody but you’d also never given him any reason to be mean or treat you poorly. You thought about his bandaged hands for a second and then immediately felt guilty for doing so.

“Let me take you home.” He was saying after a few seconds and you shook your head, too overwhelmed to think clearly for a second. “Baby, let me take you home.”

The pet name snapped you out of it and you looked up at him, feeling more and more humiliated by the second at the fact your eyes were watering and you were still anxiously bunching his hoodie in your hands.

“T-the bus is too slow, he’s just now leaving the liquor store but he has a car and by the time we walk back and get on and it makes all the stops it’ll be too late and-“ You were speaking a mile a minute and you felt his hand squeeze your arm before he cut you off.

“I’m parked around the corner.” He rushed out in an attempt to stop you so you could take a breath, freezing and furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you registered what he was saying. He winced slightly at your reaction and a weird feeling passed through your chest. You were raising your hands off of his chest before slamming them back down against him in annoyance, ignoring the small pained sound he made.

“You idiot.” You spat out at him in a harsh whisper, shaking your head and glaring up at his guilty face. “You’ve had a car this entire time?”

He looked sheepish and you suddenly felt very stupid for somehow missing this, and then slightly flattered and embarrassed that he had been riding the bus with you every single day despite being parked in the opposite direction. It made sense now to you why he was sometimes hesitant to board, unlocking the knowledge that he had been riding it all the way back alone after you’d gotten off.

“Not the entire time.” He was trying to explain himself but you could tell he was lying slightly. “It was in the shop the first time we met, that’s why Jake drove me home.”

You sighed and glared at him again but you weren’t actually mad, just slightly upset that he had been inconveniencing himself this much for some reason you didn’t quite understand.

“I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” He was offering an explanation before you even had a chance to ask him and your expression softened at the reasoning, hands flatting out against him in a silent apology for hitting him.

“You’re still an idiot.” You were mumbling but your voice held no malice and he smiled at the fact he was clearly forgiven. Things felt tensioned again now that the conversation died down and you were both suddenly reminded of the fact you were touching each other and standing nearly toe to toe. “I really do have to go.”

“And I really will take you.” He was whispering back with a stressed sincerity and you frowned from the guilt of both making him drive you and not eating together like you had planned.

Heeseung was guiding you back around the buildings corner slowly, backing you up and shuffling forward with you so you didn’t need to step out from behind his chest and risk being seen. You were pouting as you awkwardly walked backwards and it remained on your face even when you were able to face forward like normal and follow him to where he had parked his car.

His car looked pretty much exactly how you figured it would, low to the ground and chipping paint in different sections of it but it was very him and you laughed softly when you remembered how ridiculous it was that he’d had one this entire time.

He seemed embarrassed when you got into the passenger seat, looking into the backseat to check if it was messy and rearranging the different CD’s that were sitting on top of his center console. You moved them over to your lap and started to mess with them while he pulled off the curb.

“Basement, Title Fight,” You were humming softly while flipping through them and reading out the artist titles, ignoring the way he was sending you nervous side glances between looking at the road. “Elliot Smith.. is this what you’re always playing in your headphones?”

“Too cliche?” He was retorting back and you scrunched your nose when you looked up at his side profile, a small smirk playing on his lips at your amusement.

“The fact you even keep CD’s still is kind of cliche.” You were throwing back to him and he glanced at you to smile fully and shake his head, watching the way you were leaned against his car door and casually looking through his stuff for a second before going back to focusing on the road.

“You still like me even though I listen to scratched CD’s and drive a 2002 shit bucket?” He was responding and you both paused.

His wording didn’t miss you but you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not, also unable to tell if he was speaking in a platonic way or if he was genuinely asking you if you liked him romantically. His mouth was parting like he was trying to think of a way to backtrack and you cleared your throat before he could, leaning forward to push a CD into the radios slot.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you let the song play for a beat or two before you were leaning back into his torn leather seats and glancing at him again.

“Yeah.. I still like you.” Your voice was lower than it was before, barely filtering over the sound of the music building up but you knew he managed to catch it considering the way he was biting the inside of his cheek and avoiding looking in your direction for the rest of the ride.

He didn’t need to ask you for the way to your neighborhood considering he’s been riding past it 4 times a day but he glanced at you for help when you entered the street and you leaned forward to point towards your house. Your dads car wasn’t in the driveway and you breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled up near the curb.

You didn’t think too much about the state of disarray your home was in this time, for some reason not minding if he saw how messed up things were for you. The feeling had settled into your stomach that he wouldn’t care, that he wasn’t going to give you a sorry look or treat you differently.

He was surprising you by opening his door before you’d gotten out and you watched him round the hood with confusion, flushing when he came over to your side to open yours for you and hold it while you scrambled out. You leaned against the door once he had closed it behind you and he stood in front of you like he had on the sidewalk, his dirty sneakers pressing against the toe of yours.

“So…” You were dragging out the word and trailing off nervously, looking up at him through your eyelashes and thinking about how cute he looked peering down at you.

“So.” His lips were curling up in a smirk at your lack of words and you frowned at the expression, reaching up to pinch at his arm and keep it there when he let out a low chuckle. His hand was coming up to touch your bunny hat and you laughed softly at the way he pushed it behind your shoulder, almost like it was a piece of your hair.

“We shouldn’t be talking here.” You told him in a low voice, not wanting to speak any louder considering how close his face was getting to yours. “My dad would kill me if he saw you.”

“Right.” He was nodding but he wasn’t taking a step back or making any move that indicated he was going to leave, just watching you and you could feel his arm tense underneath your touch. “Do you want me to go?”

You were shaking your head swiftly although you knew he needed to, you liked his company and you found yourself missing him every time you were away for too long. You somehow managed to have fun today despite the fact you’d almost had a panic attack upon seeing your dad and how awkward it had felt to search for him in the school.

“I should go.” He was sighing even though you had said you didn’t want him to, thinking logically despite obviously also not wanting to leave. He was leaning forward again and for a second you could feel his chest pushed up against yours before he swayed back like he hadn’t done it.

Your heart felt heavy at the fact he was going to leave you there, in such a rotten place that left you restless and miserable, but you were slightly humiliated by the large frown on your face. Before you could think about it, in an attempt to hide your expression, you were pulling him forward by his hoodie sleeve and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

He hesitated for a few seconds, just from the surprise of the contact, and then he was slowly wrapping his long arms completely around you and keeping you pulled tightly to his chest. You could feel him take a deep breath, surrounded by his warmth and burying your face into the soft fabric of his oversized hoodie, listening to his heart beat increase slightly when you squeezed him for a second.

You were pulling back after a few seconds, leaning into the car again and you knew your face must’ve been flushed red with a dazed look in your eyes considering the way he faltered and smiled sheepishly at you.

“Well.. I have to go.” You were rushing out to him and he nodded, taking a step back so you were able to walk away without having to push past his large frame.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice was lower than normal and carrying a slight rasp that made something flip around in your gut, trying not to look at him as you quickly waved and scurried away up your front path and into the doorway.

You stood there, back pressed against your front door now that it was closed, and took deep breaths to try and calm yourself down as you listened to his car pull off. A smile was building itself up on your face despite being slightly embarrassed over your bold move and you felt like a cloud of giddiness was following you around.

“So that’s what you sneak off to do every night?” Your entire body froze up in shock and you immediately stopped in place, bones going rigid and blood running cold at the sound of your fathers slurred voice coming from the living room.

Any sense or happiness or calm Heeseung had brought you was immediately disappearing and replaced with terror at the realization he was home, and had clearly seen you through the window before you came inside. You were stuck in silence and you could feel the dark tension radiating off of him although you couldn’t even see him yet.

“You’re out there embarrassing me, making a mess of our name.” He was hissing and you watched him rise from his arm chair and come out of the shadows like a fairytale monster, cowering in on yourself like you were a little girl again. “Whoring around with that delinquent.”

“N-no dad, I promise it isn’t like that I just-“ He was cutting you and your stutters off, slamming his hand down against the wall near your head and you closed your eyes in a wince, listening to the way the framed photos rattled on the wall.

A few seconds passed and you were holding your breath, waiting for him to continue to insult you and tell you what you had done wrong but when the tension continued to grow you realized he was more angry than you thought. You felt your hands hit the floor before you felt the pain in your cheek, not even realizing he had hit you for a few seconds because of the shock.

He’d hit you before but it was rare in recent years, not wanting to risk you showing up to school with a black eye or bruised cheek.

Your hand was coming up to cup the side of your face, shaking against your skin and feeling how hot and swollen it already was from his large calloused palm. You didn’t want to look at him and see his sneering face, instead staring forward at the way your bunny hat had flown off on impact and landed a few feet away on the floor.

“No more going out at night.” He was spitting the words down at you, curled into a ball against the wall on the floor and willingly away the pain under your palm. “I’ll put a padlock on your door if I have to.”

With that, he was staggering back into the darkness of the living room and you could hear the groan of the armchair under his weight. You sat there for a few more seconds, frozen and making sure it was clear for you to move before you were scurrying up the stairs and grabbing your hat as you passed by.

When you got to your room you threw it into the corner and collapsed onto your bed in a fit of sobs, burying your face deep into your pillow and crying so hard you thought you might just explode.

You felt even worse for the reason you were crying, not because you’d gotten caught or punished and not because your father was upset with you. You cried over the fear of not being able to see Heeseung anymore, the idea of never being able to safely return to the city at night causing you such distress you continued to sob until your throat was sore and your chest ached.

The sun was setting eventually and your room was darkening, never having the light switch turned on and just letting the night take over every single day, but you failed to notice considering how burrowed under the covers in your own misery you were.

You didn’t mean to care about somebody this deeply, having sworn against it after your mother passed and you were left with a shell of a man, your father becoming half the person he was with grief and never bothering to heal himself for your sake. You’d spent recent years tiptoeing around the house and trying to show as little evidence as possible that you existed, part of the reason he didn’t fully mind you disappearing at night or sleeping all day.

You felt stupid but getting caught with Heeseung after so narrowly escaping your father in the city, completely letting your guard down and being foolish because of your feelings.

But the other part of you didn’t care, you deserved to be giddy and act stupid because you liked somebody and his reaction wasn’t your fault.

Thinking of Heeseung made you remember he’d probably be waiting for you tonight and you started to cry harder again. You were worried he’d over think about your intimacy and small confession today and mistake you not showing up to the bus stop as you rejecting him, retreating back into yourself and leaving him alone like he had been before your night time meetings.

You must’ve dozed off from crying and the stress of the day, only waking up with dry skin and swollen eyes when you started to register a faint repeated noise.

You were sitting up with a puffy pout and looking around in a dazed confusion, at first because you couldn’t identify it and then even more so because you realized it was coming from your window. You staggered out of bed to open it and stop the noise and you let out a gasp, ducking and just barely missing being hit by a small stone that flew into your room.

“Fuck.” A voice down below was whispering and you glanced down to see Heeseung stood at the side of your house with his hoodie pulled up over his head. “Did I hit you? I’m sorry.”

You felt panic grow in your chest at the sight of him although you were happy to see that you had a chance to explain what had happened, glancing behind you in fear before turning again to glare at him from the second floor.

“You can’t be here.” You hissed out and he gave you a guilty look, like he knew you were going to say that but couldn’t help himself anyways. You let out a small sigh and you eyes softened at his expression. “I told you he was going to kill me.”

You didn’t need to say it for him to understand that your dad must’ve been home and you saw his face darken again like it had earlier, feeling thankful that you were too high up and it was too dark for him to see the bruise that must have been forming on your face now.

“Is he awake?” He was whispering back after a few seconds and you paused at his unexpected question.

He didn’t say anything when you held up a finger to indicate you’d be back, tiptoeing back to the other side of your room and cracking open the door. You held your breath so you could hear every noise clearly and you waited until the sound of his snores filtered up the stairs to you, confirming he had drank himself unconscious again and was out for the night. You still didn’t want to risk sneaking out and having him wake up and you walked back to your window with a heavy heart.

“He’s out but-“ You were starting to explain you couldn’t come along when Heeseung was nodding and walking towards the front of your house, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you called his name softly. He turned back to look at you and you raised your hands in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

“Let me in.” He whisper yelled back and gave you a look like it was an obvious thing for you to do, smiling slightly when your astonished face only deepened.

You were groaning when he disappeared around the side of the house and you left your room before you had a chance to think about it more, sneaking down the stairs as silently as possibly and trying not to let out a breath when you passed by the entrance to the living room.

It was strange to see Heeseung on your porch when you cracked open the front door, even stranger when he took a step inside your hallway and you took him in against the familiar setting. You hadn’t had somebody inside your house in years and you were thankful that he kept his gaze tightly on you and didn’t look around at the mess.

You brought a finger to your lips and indicated towards the living room where your dad was, a loud snore coming from him at that exact moment and causing you to jump where you stood. Heeseung was bringing a hand up to your arm in an attempt to calm you and he nodded in understanding that he needed to keep quiet.

When you took a step on the first stair you winced and glanced back at him, knowing his weight and tall frame would make it groan louder than normal.

Still, you took his hand in yours and let it hang behind you as you gently led him up the old wood and into the hallway that would lead to your bedroom. He still didn’t speak once you entered it and for a second you were worried he would ask you to turn the lights on, thankful when he finally took a deep breath and glanced around at your belongings.

“So this is where she returns to.” He was muttering under his breath and you felt a little embarrassed as he took in your room.

Not as embarrassed as you felt when he was looking back at you intensely, you figured he could see you better now that you were closer and illuminated by the moonlight shining in from your window but you knew you were correct when his eyes were hardening again suddenly. You winced slightly when his hands were coming up to cup your face, the right one just hovering and not connecting with the bruised and swollen skin.

“This was him?” He was whispering, his eyes filtering up to stare into yours and your stomach turned at how serious he sounded. You hadn’t seen him have this look in his eye before and it put you slightly on edge.

You were hesitantly nodding your head and you knew your eyes must have started watering judging by the fact his face softened and he gently caressed your uninjured cheek, shaking his head and bringing you over to sit down on your bed.

“I’m sorry.” He was whispering to you and leaning forward to connect your foreheads, watching you with a hurt look. It was reminiscent of the pitiful glance so many people have given you throughout your life but you knew it was different, he was different.

“It’s not your fault.” You were telling him and you truly meant it, your hand coming up to rest on his wrist and squeeze it softly.

“It is though. I should’ve dropped you off up the street where the bus stops, it was stupid.” He was muttering and you wanted to remind him that you’d pointed out your house and you’d been the one to tell him to stay, but you weren’t sure it was going to make much of a difference.

You thought about the fact he was inside of your house right now, only a few hours after you’d gotten punished for even being seen with him and you snorted a teary laugh at the irony of calling such a small act, such as earlier stupid.

“You make me stupid.” You were telling him and he smiled softly at your joking tone, knowing that you were completely serious.

“You scared me when you didn’t show up.” He was saying back and his tone was serious again, brushing back your hair that was normally hidden under your knitted hat. “I was about to tear the city apart looking for you before I thought about coming here first.”

You laughed slightly at the idea of somebody as kind as Heeseung raging through the city in search of you, pressing your head harder against his before leaning back a bit so you could take a deep breath and shake your head at him.

“You’re lucky I woke up before him.” Your tone was light and teasing but you both understood the heavy truth in the statement, his face dropping again.

He had failed to take you literally when you exclaimed about your father killing you but you didn’t blame him, not liking the guilt that coated his face again as he mirrored your deep breath.

“You couldn’t have known.” You were telling him in a gentle voice but he was still not looking at you, only picking up his head when your hand was brushing through his bangs. “Heeseung, it’s not your fault.”

He was nodding softly and chewing on his lip but you had a feeling he was only agreeing to make you feel better, still having that dark guilty look on his face. You sighed softly and glanced behind you at your small bed, scooting back a few inches before looking at him again.

He was giving you a soft and tired smile, clearly understanding what you were insinuating and you tried to not throw up from nerves when you were both moving around so you could lay down on your bed together. You’d been experiencing the most intimacy you’d had since you were a kid with him and your stomach was tight with anxiety.

Heeseung didn’t seem to think much of it, flopping back against your pillows and sucking in a deep relieved sigh. His one knee was bent upwards towards your ceiling and his left arm was sprawled across the rest of the bed, leaving you no choice but to lay on top of it. He was pulling you forward slightly by your shoulders so you could rest your head on his chest and you were slightly relieved to hear how fast it was beating, despite his calm demeanor.

“How’d we get here.” You were whispering after a bit of silence and you could feel his laughter before you heard it, his warm chest rumbling slightly with the sound

“I thought you looked cute standing up to two drunk assholes.” He mumbled back and you pinched his side slightly, draping your arm across his stomach. “You should’ve seen Jake’s face when I asked about you the next morning.”

“Probably the same expression he had when I ran into the store four hours early.” You felt embarrassed to be admitting it but you liked the way it made him laugh again, gently rubbing your shoulder over the shared fact you both had been interested in each other from the start.

You fell into silence again and after a moment you picked your head up again to look at him closer, still pressed against his side but rolling onto your stomach slightly so you could study his face. He was watching you with a curious expression and your hand come up to brush his bangs back, revealing his eyebrow piercing to you again.

He didn’t say anything when you pressed against it, rolling one of the balls between your fingers for a few seconds before rubbing along his eyebrow bone until you hit the bump of metal, but his eyes darkened slightly at your fascination and you faintly felt his hand slip down to your side and squeeze it.

“He called you a delinquent.” You were whispering to him with a small smirk, raising an eyebrow as you recounted what your father had said about him. “He’d probably lose his mind if he came in here right now.”

Heeseung didn’t seem to share your amusement about the subject considering how hard his face was as you talked about it, only his eyes staying soft as he looked over your features from such a close distance.

“I’d kill him.” He was mumbling back and you snickered for a second before realizing he wasn’t laughing, his face serious as he watched you for your reaction to what he was saying. You frowned slightly and laid your hands down on his chest, rubbing it for a second before shaking your head.

“Don’t say that.” You were muttering under your breath, following it with an awkward laugh at the sudden tension in the air.

“I’m serious.” He was saying back immediately and you looked back up at his eyes, frowning deeper since you knew he was telling the truth. A part of you felt strangely prideful about it, your stomach lighting up at the fact he was so protective over you and willingly to interfere if your father busted through the door.

The other part of you was slightly concerned with his sudden demeanor, only catching glimpses of it before and brushing it off considering how gentle and lighthearted he always was with you. You wondered if it was a good time to ask him about the bandages around his hands but you decided against it.

“Then what?” You surprised yourself by humoring his hypothetical situation for a second, watching the way his eyebrows jumped in surprise. “What happens after?”

“You can come with me.” He was saying it swiftly like it was something he’d considered before, eyes remaining serious despite the fact he was noticeably being more careful with his words.

You hummed softly at him, your hand moving from his chest to trail up his neck for a second before coming back to rest again. You didn’t think anything of the movement, just absentmindedly touching him and being fascinated by the feeling of somebody else’s skin other than yours, but you could tell by the way his eyes darkened that you had caught his attention.

“Would you come with me?” He was asking in a low voice, eyes tired and lazy as he peered down at you but very much focused in on your expression as he waited for your response.

You were watching him in return and you were sure he could feel your heart beating against his arm, rolling back around so you were laying on your side again and cuddled up against his side instead of laying on your stomach and directly facing him. You knew your face must’ve been flushed by now and it continued to redden as you thought of a response.

“Of course I would.” You mumbled back and it slightly scared you how much you found yourself meaning the words.

Now it was his turn to him, low and rumbling in his chest against the side of your face. You scooted closer to him instinctively and you felt his hand gently squeeze against your side when he realized you were moving again, your shirt riding up slightly as you shifted so now his skin was pressed against yours.

You were glancing up at him at the feeling of him touching you and you awkwardly looked away when you realized he was already staring, a hazy look in his dark eyes. Heeseung’s demeanor felt different tonight, or maybe it was just the intimate setting.

“C’mere.” He was rasping out the word and the syllables were slurring together, your heartbeat so heavy and loud that you almost didn’t hear him for a few seconds. You scooted up further on his chest so you could look at him, your upper half lifted slightly so your face was hovering over his and he could bring a hand up to cup your uninjured cheek again.

“We can run away together.” He was muttering now that you were close to each others faces again, his big hand nearly covering the entire side of yours and you smiled softly at his statement. He looked slightly serious still but you saw the corner of his lip quirk up and you ducked your head in embarrassment. “I’d take care of you.”

“Oh, would you now?” Your voice was teasing and you raised your eyebrows at him, biting your lip to try and stop the big smile on your face from spreading. You let your arms shift forward again to rest on his chest and you could feel his collarbones under your palm.

He was nodding but not speaking again, watching you intensely and you felt your smile drop slightly at the look on his face. You’d been with a boy before, not all the way and nothing serious but you wouldn’t consider yourself necessarily unexperienced. Still, you’d never felt so tensioned and attracted to somebody before like you did with Heeseung and he hadn’t even tried to kiss you before.

His demeanor, confident but not ever cocky and sometimes sheepish like he acted on impulse, was the most attractive part of him to you and being in such close proximity didn’t help.

“Could you take care of me now?” You weren’t sure what pushed you to whisper the words out to him, hesitant and slow but being said nonetheless and you watch his eyes flash with something unfamiliar for a moment.

Then Heeseung was leaning forward off your pillows, his hand that was cupping your face being used to bring you forward so you could meet him halfway into a slow kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel his heart beating underneath your chest as you scooted forward more to completely lay on top of him and kiss him deeper.

You were overwhelmed by how perfect it felt to be kissing him, how warm and familiar the feeling of him underneath you was and you sucked in a small breath when he pulled back for a second before surging forward again to kiss him more.

If he was surprised by this he didn’t show it, his hand pushing up more so your shirt would ride up on your stomach and he could feel more of your side under his hand. You knew he felt the shiver wrack through you, the goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of the callousness of his and he chuckled softly into the kiss that was getting heavier with every passing second.

You could feel Heeseung biting down on your lip, almost painfully, and you were reminded of that dark expression he sometimes got. He was immediately licking over the skin he had bitten, soothing it out with his tongue and you made an embarrassing noise when he was suddenly slipping it into your mouth.

“Calm down.” He was pulling back a few centimeters to whisper to you, his voice breathy and carrying a small chuckle as he teased you for your reaction.

“I can’t.” You responded honestly, shaking your head softly and leaning in again to peck his lips quickly. Kissing him was addicting and you felt like your head was spinning from the way he was gently rubbing up and down your side so slowly.

He was laughing loudly at your response and your heart clenched affectionately at the sound, immediately followed by the reminder he wasn’t supposed to be here. You glanced over at your door nervously and when you looked back at him again he was frowning and following your line of vision, seemingly also snapping back to reality.

“I should probably go.” He was muttering and your stomach dropped painfully although you knew he was right, it wasn’t smart to get in trouble more.

“I won’t be able to come out at night for awhile.” You were telling him and your voice sounded saddened and panicked, bunching up his hoodie in your fist again like you had earlier when your anxiety picked up.

“Doesn’t matter.” He was shaking his head and petting your hair softly, raising his eyebrows to really exaggerate the fact that he meant what he was saying. “Find me at school tomorrow and we can figure something out okay? He can’t stop me from seeing you.”

You watched him in silence for a few seconds before you were leaning in to kiss him harshly again, completely drinking him in and savoring the feeling of him pressed against you in case it was the last time you got to have him like this. His hands were sliding back into your hair, keeping you tight into the kiss and moving against you just as desperately.

You felt overwhelmed at his sincere words, never having somebody so adamant on being around you, being so protective over you that he was willingly to risk his own safety just to have a conversation with you.

“You’re crazy.” You were gasping out when you pulled back for air, laughing at the way he was pressing more swift kisses against your lips as you tried to talk.

“You make me crazy.” He was slightly altering and repeating the phrase you had said to him earlier, a smile coming back onto his face now that you clearly felt better about the situation.

It took you a while to get off of him, even longer for you to actually leave your room considering the way he kept shaking his hands around your waist to pull you back in to kiss again. At one point he had you pressed against your bedroom door and you tried not to think how tensioned it felt to kiss standing up like this, letting him lean you against the old wood and explore your mouth with a heavy sense of longing and desire.

You were eventually take control of the never ending situation and pushing him out of your door with a final kiss, watching him smile at you and walk slowly down your stairs. He had suggested you stay up in your room in case the door closing woke up your father and he came looking for you, better to find you upstairs versus suspiciously in the front hallway.

You followed Heeseung’s frame, craning your neck outside the window to be able to see parts of your front lawn, and watching as he tugged his hoodie back over his head and walked a few houses down to where he had parked his car.

He was looking back at your window before he got in and the two of you watched each other for a few beats before you were raising your hand in a shy wave, smiling at the way he returned it before getting inside his car and pulling off slowly.

——

You were getting stares as you rushed through the school halls, your peers not used to seeing you so alert at all throughout the day but especially so early in the morning. You’d only slept for an hour or two but you felt energized at the idea of seeing Heeseung again as you searched for him.

The search stopped short when you were suddenly smacking into somebody rounding the corner, clearly not expecting to encounter somebody moving at the speed you were.

You both flew back from the impact and you landed on your butt a bit away from the boy, glancing up swiftly to see it was somebody you recognized, a friend from middle school who had slowly stopped talking to you after your mother died.

“Shit, I’m sorry Sunoo.” You were stuttering slightly and you suddenly remembered that conversation didn’t come easily to you, forgetting this fact considering you only ever spoke to Heeseung. “I was just-“

“Looking for Lee Heeseung?” He was cutting you off and you paused in your explanation to stare at him, his tone more judging than you remember ever hearing it. “What are you doing hanging around with him Y/N?”

He was standing back to his full height and offering you a hand but after faltering for a few seconds you paused, scoffing under your breath and standing without taking it. Once you were off the ground you were glaring at him, not liking the heavy glance he was sending your way.

“What does it matter to you?” You normally wouldn’t be so confrontational but it upset you how concerned he seemed to be despite completely ditching you alongside the rest of your friend group while you were grieving.

He had no place to judge you or who you decided to hang out with, although it confused you how worried he seemed to be about Heeseung. You weren’t sure how he even knew about the boy considering you didn’t recall ever seeing him around school or your old friends before your run in at the convenience store.

“He’s dangerous Y/N.” He was spitting the words at you but you could tell you weren’t the reason for his anger, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at you like he was confused if you truly didn’t understand the reason for his worry.

“What are you talking about?” You were looking at him in bewilderment and you felt your heart start to beat slightly at the fact he was clearly implying something had happened with the boy you’d spent so much time with recently. You were suddenly reminded that you didn’t know much about him, never talking about family life or what he did outside of being with you.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sunoo was sighing and you were confused at his sudden dismissal until you realized his eyes were going past your shoulder now, turning your head and seeing the boy in question standing a few feet away and watching the two of you interact.

Heeseung didn’t look dangerous to you, especially in the way he was clutching the straps of his backpack and carrying a nervous expression. His eyes softened slightly when he saw you but he must’ve registered the worried look on your face because he was suddenly turning in place and going back down the hallway the way he came.

You sighed when he pushed out the side doors, turning back to glare at Sunoo quickly before hurriedly following after the tall boy and rushing back down past the lockers.

“Heeseung.” You were calling his name once you pushed through the double doors, the cold morning air hitting your face swiftly and you winced a bit. “Hee, stop.”

He paused at the sound of your voice and you saw him suck in a reluctant breath before he was turning around to face you. You caught up to him quickly and stopped a few inches in front of him, reaching up to grab his hoodie sleeve and trying not to be offended when he flinched away from your touch.

“What happened?” You were questioning him with slightly widened eyes, looking up at him and trying to read what his face was expressing. “Why are you running away from me?”

“What did he say to you?” His voice was hardened and he was staring daggers down at you, your face crumbling at the harsh expression that you’d never seen directed your way before.

“Nothing, he said nothing.” You were shaking your head quickly and he let out a disbelieving scoff, looking away from you and clenching his jaw in agitation. “Hee, I’m serious. He didn’t say anything, a bunch of none sense I didn’t even understand.”

He was glancing down at you again like he was trying to see if you were telling the truth or not, being met with your big wide eyes and sighing softly in guilt for being so quick to anger. His hand was coming up to touch your face and you leaned into it even though you were still feeling confused over what was happening.

You didn’t say anything when he was reaching down to grab your hand gently, leading you with him out towards the parking lot where you spotted his car parked near the back. You frowned softly behind his back but got into the passenger seat anyways and watched as he started it up but didn’t pull off.

The heat blaring created a small rattling noise and you could hear the song you’d put on before still playing faintly, flushing a bit at the realization he hadn’t changed the CD and was just letting it play on repeat.

“Are you scared of me?” He was suddenly asking and you glanced over at him from the passenger seat, seeing the way he was staring down at his hands as he picked at the skin around his fingers. His legs were spread so his knee was pressing against the middle console and you reached over to place your hand on it gently.

“Of course I’m not.” You were whispering back to him and shifting your body so you could completely face him, your eyes following along his side profile and frowning at how defeated he looked.

“Even if I told you I did something bad?” He was finally glancing at you and you felt sick at how vulnerable his eyes looked, shifting nervously over your face and you hoped your expression didn’t convey how nervous you suddenly felt. “That I hurt somebody really bad?”

You were watching him in silence and it felt like the air from the car got sucked out with his words, hinting towards something darker than you’d expected him to admit. You thought back to the expression he sometimes carried, the way he spoke about your father so casually and the worry on Sunoo’s face. You watched him while thinking of this and you thought about all the other things to.

How he was always so gentle and kind with you, warm and comforting and never doing anything to make you feel worried despite most your time with him being spent alone and late at night. You didn’t know every detail about his life but that didn’t make him seem dangerous to you, he felt familiar and safe and you instinctively squeezed his knee.

“Did they deserve it?” You were finally croaking out, settling on a response that you felt properly conveyed your stance on what he was saying.

You’d thought from the moment you met him that Heeseung was similar to you and you knew the reasons you couldn’t sleep, the demons that kept you up all night restless. You tried to imagine what his looked like and you figured if you were bigger and braver, maybe you’d tried to hurt yours back too.

He wasn’t saying anything for a few seconds, just looking at you like he hadn’t expected that response and you knew immediately it had been the right thing to say. His face was crumbling and he was biting his lip to stop it from trembling, ducking his head forward to nod as an answer to your question.

You were leaning forward over the middle console to pull him in for a hug, not caring about the way the plastic pressed into your stomach uncomfortably or the burn your arms felt from stretching so far to embrace him. He’d help you more than once, brought you back from a dangerous place and a low state of mind and your heart tugged at the sight of him showing that same vulnerability now.

“It’s not your fault.” You were whispering into his hoodie and his arms were snaking around your middle, a small surprised noise slipping from your mouth when he was tugging you over the console and situating you in his lap. He was burying his head deep into your neck and your hand was coming up to rest on the back of his head, his hoodie fabric under your palm.

You didn’t need to hear the full story, you didn’t need for him to painfully recount the details or what had happened for him to do something so drastic and you didn’t need to know who.

Him softly crying into your neck and clutching onto you like a scared child was all you needed to believe him, to understand that whatever rumor or perspective others such as Sunoo had, was wrong.

He was picking his head up to look at you and your heart broke at his red face, tears streaming down his cheeks and a frustration expression coating his features like he was mad at himself for showcasing how upset he was. He was suddenly pressed against you in a kiss and you hesitated for a second in surprise before kissing him back.

You were pushing his hoodie off his head so you could put your hands through his shaggy hair, pulling him tighter against you and feeling the way his wet face was pressing onto yours.

“You can’t leave me.” He was gasping into your mouth and his hands were shakily coming up to cup your face, tilting your head softly and humming into the kiss when you were licking into his mouth and leaning forward so his back was pressed against the car door.

Heeseung was moving a hand down towards your back and you could feel him continuously tugging you forward into him, your hip bone pressing against his stomach as you both found comfort in each others touch. You let him do this for a few seconds longer before you were pulling back a bit to address what he had said.

“I’m not going to leave.” You were gasping as you said it, still trying to catch your breath and he was shaking his head before tugging you forward again, a small noise slipping from your mouth at the feeling of him dragging you up further into his thigh.

“I’m serious.” He was still speaking into your mouth and you pulled back further to look at him, the dark expression back in his eyes now as he watched you. “I’d go crazy if you left.”

It slightly unsettled you how serious he sounded, how he really stressed the words like they were the most important in the world. His hands were still holding onto you tightly like he was terrified you’d slip away if he let up even a little bit and your eyes bounced around his face for a few seconds before you were nodding.

“We can be crazy together.”

“You can’t leave me.” He was gasping into your mouth and his hands were shakily coming up to cup your face, tilting your head softly and humming into the kiss when you were licking into his mouth and leaning forward so his back was pressed against the car door.

Heeseung was moving a hand down towards your back and you could feel him continuously tugging you forward into him, your hip bone pressing against his stomach as you both found comfort in each others touch. You let him do this for a few seconds longer before you were pulling back a bit to address what he had said.

“I’m not going to leave.” You were gasping as you said it, still trying to catch your breath and he was shaking his head before tugging you forward again, a small noise slipping from your mouth at the feeling of him dragging you up further into his thigh.

“I’m serious.” He was still speaking into your mouth and you pulled back further to look at him, the dark expression back in his eyes now as he watched you. “I’d go crazy if you left.”

It slightly unsettled you how serious he sounded, how he really stressed the words like they were the most important in the world. His hands were still holding onto you tightly like he was terrified you’d slip away if he let up even a little bit and your eyes bounced around his face for a few seconds before you were nodding.

“We can be crazy together.”

[writetheidea]

Shadows of the past - happy ending

Hello, You are now reading the happy ending of this fan fiction. If you haven’t read the previous parts, I recommend you do so in order to understand the context. The song “Shrike” by Hozier was involved in the writing process of this part. Many songs by Hozier were involved.

Part 1 || Part 2 |||| Sad ending

Word count: 2013

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

I would like to explain that I do not think that Oscar's family would behave this way. This idea came from watching Nicole's interview in which she spoke highly about Lily and an unrelated conversation that day about families still speaking about and with ex girlfriends.

The confrontation with his family was inevitable. His parents had always meant well, but they were so attached to the idea of him and Lily that they never fully accepted Mia. And now, Oscar was starting to see just how much their subtle comparisons had contributed to the rift between him and Mia.

They were sitting around the kitchen table when Nicole brought it up again. “I spoke to Lily the other day,” she said casually, as if it were normal to keep so closely in touch with his ex-girlfriend after all these years. “She said she’s thinking about coming to one of your races again soon.”

Oscar’s chest tightened. He set his coffee mug down, the clink of the ceramic sounding too loud in the suddenly tense room. “Mum, why do you keep bringing her up?” he asked, his voice strained.

Nicole blinked in surprise. “Well, she’s kept being supportive of your career, darling. I thought you’d like to know.”

“I don’t need to know,” Oscar replied, his voice growing sharper. “Mia didn’t need to know. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for her, hearing you talk about Lily all the time? You keep treating Mia like she’s not enough for me—like she’s not part of this family.”

His father frowned. “Oscar, that’s not fair. We’ve never said anything bad about Mia.”

“You didn’t have to,” Oscar shot back. “It’s not about what you’re saying—it’s about what you’re talking about. You constantly bring up Lily, and it’s like you’re waiting for me to go back to her. You act like Mia is just temporary, like she doesn’t matter as much.”

Nicole’s face softened with guilt. “Oscar, we didn’t mean it that way. We just—Lily was a big part of your life for so long, and we still care about her. But we like Mia too.”

“Then act like it,” Oscar said, his voice thick with frustration. “Because Mia’s gone now. She left me, and part of it is because of how you made her feel. She felt like she was always competing with Lily, and it broke her. And I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

Nicole’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Oscar. I had no idea.”

“I didn’t either,” Oscar admitted, his voice softer now. “I should’ve stood up for her more. I should’ve made it clear that she was my choice, and I didn’t. But I’m telling you now—I love her. And I need you to accept that, completely, if I’m ever going to be able to get her back.”

His mother reached out, placing her hand on his. “We’ll do better, Oscar. I promise. If—When Mia comes back... we’ll show her that she’s part of this family. Truly.”

Oscar nodded, but the weight of the situation still pressed down on him. He had a lot to make up for, not just his family. And he wasn’t sure if an apology would be enough to fix everything that had been broken.

---

It was a few days later when Oscar found himself face-to-face with Lily. They had run into each other at an event for one of his sponsors.

“Oscar!” Lily greeted him with a bright smile, her blonde hair swept elegantly over her shoulder. She looked just like she always had—polished, put together, the perfect image of the life he had once imagined for himself. But standing there, looking at her, Oscar realized how far removed he felt from that version of himself.

“Lily,” he said, his tone polite but distant.

They exchanged pleasantries, talking about the races and how things had been going for them. But Lily, perceptive as always, noticed something was off.

“I heard about you and Mia,” she said after a while, her voice gentle. “I’m sorry, Oscar. I always thought you two were really great together.”

Oscar swallowed, the mention of Mia making his chest tighten with guilt and longing. “We were,” he said quietly. “But I messed things up.”

Lily gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s not easy, balancing everything—family, relationships, your career. I would know firsthand. But Mia seemed like the type to understand that.”

“She is,” Oscar agreed. “But I didn’t give her the support she deserved. I let my family’s feelings get in the way, and I didn’t stand up for her when I should have.”

Lily nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, Oscar, you and I... we had a good. But it’s clear you’ve grown since then. You’re not the same person you were when we were together.”

Oscar looked at her, surprised by her words. “I guess I have.”

“And Mia... she’s the one you want to be with, isn’t she?”

Oscar didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. She is.”

Lily smiled softly. “Then fight for her. Don’t let the past hold you back from what you really want now.”

Oscar nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew what he had to do.

---

Oscar stood outside Mia’s apartment, his heart racing in his chest. He had spent the last few days going over everything in his head—what he needed to say, how he needed to make things right. He had spoken to his family, seen Lily, and now he was ready. Ready to fight for Mia, for the future he wanted with her.

When Mia opened the door, she looked surprised to see him. She looked tired, like the weight of their separation had been as hard on her as it had been on him.

“Oscar,” she said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding, before stepping into the familiar warmth of her apartment. Everything felt the same, but different. There was a tension in the air, a distance that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m sorry, Mia,” Oscar said, his voice breaking the silence. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not standing up for you. For not realizing how much my family’s words and actions were hurting you.”

Mia’s eyes softened, but she remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I let you down,” Oscar continued, his voice heavy with emotion. “I didn’t see how much you were struggling, how much you were giving up to be with me. And I took you for granted. But I see it now. And I’ll never let that happen again.”

Mia swallowed hard, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “Oscar, it wasn’t just you. I should have spoken up sooner. I should have told you how much it was affecting me. But I didn’t, because I was scared.”

Oscar stepped closer, his heart breaking at the sight of her pain. “I know I can’t undo the hurt I’ve caused. But I want to make it right. I want to fight for us, Mia. I love you. And I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make you feel like you’re the only one who matters.”

Tears spilled over Mia’s cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly, her breath catching in her throat. “I love you too, Oscar,” she whispered. “But... I’m scared. I don’t want to go back to feeling like I’m not enough.”

“You *are* enough,” Oscar said firmly, stepping even closer. “You’ve always been enough. And I’ve spoken to my family. They know how much you mean to me, and they’ve promised to change. I won’t let them—or anyone—make you feel like you’re second best ever again.”

Mia looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for the truth in his words. And when she saw the sincerity there, something shifted in her expression. The walls she had built around herself began to crack, just enough for hope to seep through.

“Oscar,” she whispered, her voice exposing her fragility. “I don’t want to lose you. I never did. But I need to know that this is real. That you’re really ready to put us first.”

Oscar reached out, gently taking Mia’s hands in his, his grip firm but tender. “I am, Mia. I’m ready to put us first—above everything. I’ve spent too much time focusing on things that don’t matter as much as you do. My family, the past, the pressure of everything… none of it matters if I don’t have you.”

Mia’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they weren’t just tears of pain—they were tears of hope, of possibility. She let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of Oscar’s hands in hers, his gaze never wavering from her face.

“I want to believe you,” she whispered. “I want to believe that things will change, that you’ll fight for us. But it’s been so hard, Oscar. I felt like I was losing myself.”

Oscar’s heart ached at her words, the regret of all the times he hadn’t been there for her weighing heavily on him. He wished he could take it all back, all the moments he had been blind to her struggles. But there was no going back, only forward.

“I’m not perfect,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “But I’m willing to try every single day to make sure you never feel that way again. I’m willing to learn, to listen, and to be the partner you deserve.”

Mia closed her eyes for a moment, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. She had spent so long feeling like she wasn’t enough, like she didn’t belong in Oscar’s life. But now, hearing his words, feeling the sincerity behind them, a part of her wanted to believe that maybe things could be different.

Oscar took a step closer, closing the small distance between them. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I’ll prove it to you every day, if you’ll give me the chance.”

Mia’s heart raced in her chest as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. For so long, she had felt like she was standing on the outside, looking in. But in this moment, with Oscar standing in front of her, raw and vulnerable, she felt something stir inside her. Something that told her maybe, just maybe, they could make it work.

“I love you too,” Mia whispered, her voice trembling. “I never stopped. I just… I just didn’t know how to keep going when it felt like I was always going to be second.”

“You’re not second,” Oscar said firmly, pulling her into his arms. “You’ve never been second, Mia. Not in my heart, not in my life. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you know that.”

Mia’s heart swelled at his words, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like they might actually have a chance. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that everything would be perfect from here on out. They still had work to do—on themselves, on their relationship—but for the first time in months, she felt like they were both willing to fight for it.

“I need time,” Mia said softly, her voice filled with vulnerability. “I need to take things slow. I don’t want to rush back into things and end up hurt again.”

Oscar nodded, understanding in his eyes. “We’ll take it as slow as you need,” he promised. “I just want to be with you. We’ll figure it out together.”

Mia smiled, and Oscar’s heart lifted at the sight. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed seeing her smile, how much it had hurt him to see her lose her spark. But now, standing here with her, he felt like they were finally on the right path.

“I’ve missed you,” Mia whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve missed you too,” Oscar replied, his arms tightening around her. “More than you know.”

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them now filled with the warmth of hope. It wouldn’t be easy, Oscar knew that. They still had challenges to face, wounds to heal. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like they had a real chance at making it work.

[kizzer55555]

I had a crack idea and I really like your content I was wondering if you would like to hear it

Damien had an Over The Moon moment with Danny

Over The Moon Is about a little girl while building a rocket to the moon to meet a goddess so she can get advice about accepting the death of her mother

As a child Damien remembers one of his caretakers telling him the story of the god Phantom how something happened to him and how he floated up and away to space and became their God but could never see his family or friends ever again

Story that Damian got told was incredibly popular one in the infinite realms about King Phantom after he had to shut down the portals to the infinite rounds from the human world to keep the ghost safe and himself

And the ghost saw this heavily liminal child is like oh let me tell him the story of the space god Phantom

This was when Damien was still dueling Talia to find out who his birth father is and like a few days before his birthday Damien actually did find a portal that led to the infinite Realms

He ended up meeting ghosts like the Box Ghost or Johnny 13 and Kitty and going on a big adventure to the infinite rounds to meet High King Phantom who encouraged him to venture out there and find out about what it's connected to him

And turn there was a portrait made of Damien and Danny of Danny being in Royal where in Damien sitting on his lap with the brightest smile on his face

Damien ends up going back home and never telling anyone else in the League of assassins or in bat family about his adventure in the infinite Realms and king Phantom

Damien ends up getting into it like a really bad argument with Bruce and feeling unwanted so decided to go back you get advice from Phantom it ended up taking Jon with him

The bat family have to realizing that Damien's gone missing are spending most of their time trying to find Damien when Constantine calls them and shows them a portrait of Damien and the ghost King

Which leads the bat family thinking that Damian got kidnapped by the ghost King probably because of the Lazarus pits while Damian and Jonathan are out there living their Disney adventure

So the bat family and Constantine summon the Ghost came to the man Damien back while Damien trying to convince Danny at the world is changing that he might be able to go back home and see the people he loves

Anyway I just kept having the idea of Damian singing my rocket to the moon but changing out the lyrics

Anyway I hope you like my dumb idea and you might watch Over The Moon it's really good movie

This is such a cool idea! Unfortunately I don’t know much about over the moon but here’s my little spin on this idea.

The Justice league do the summoning but unfortunatly, they are still under the impression that the ghost king is Pariah Dark. So there is a bit of interference. So the summoning latches onto the last person to touch Pariah Dark (AKA his coffin) and while Danny did defeat the previous king in single combat, he wasn’t the one to turn the key. No, the last person to touch Pariah Dark was one Vlad Plasmius. So when the JL starts the summoning, they get a very confused Plasmius and before he can comprehend what’s happening a bunch of angry and colorful adults just start demanding that he return Damian.

Vlad has no idea who these people are. He has no idea who this Damian kid is. And no matter what he says, none of these strange costumed adults believe him! He’s not even the ghost king!

JL: lies. Lies and slander.

And THEN, ooooh, and then he wasn’t the only one summoned. For Maddie the cat was right there and unfortunately got caught in the summoning because it was feeding time. And because she wasn’t a ghost, naturally she was able to wander outside the circle. The JL, having multiple interactions with Kalrion assume this is the ghost king’s familiar and snatch up the fluffy white cat.

Vlad can only stare in horror.

The. Pure. AUDACITY.

You know what? FINE! Yes! It is I! The ghost king! I have your PrEcIOse little boy! You want him back?! THEN GIVE ME BACK MY CAT!

So here Damian and Jon are, having the time of their lives, chilling in a strangely warm ice castle with Danny and telling him their problems, giving Cujo scratches and meanwhile, Vlad is screaming bloody murder from his summoning circle.

JL: give us back our child!

Vlad: Give me back my princess before I ERaSe YouR exIStaNce and I’ll think about it [insert intelligible ghost swear]

Constantine: *dramatic gasp* How DARE you?!

[ilycosy]

❝ FIGHT FOR ME ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader

summary — while being a child of athena, you've never been one for athletics or academics. you never succeeded in capture the flag, or gotten anything above a c+. it seemed that the only thing you were good at was being supportive, which luke never seemed to mind.

warnings : toxic!luke , enabler!reader , reader is bullied and insecure abt it , luke is a bad guy and reader thinks he's hot for it .

aﾉn — back w another work B) hope u guys enjoy !! i personally love when my men r a little crazy + protective over me <3 this is based on this , requests r open :) so feel free to req stuff !!!

being a demigod was hard as it was, constantly fighting monsters left and right never knowing when it'd end. most of the time, it ending in a painful and anticlimactic death, the pressure was constant and only grew.

now, being a child of athena, it really should've came naturally to you. maybe not reading, but still, being wise and strong was what should've came with the deal. at last— it didn't, and that really wasn't something that you could get over at a camp that relies so heavily on glory.

'glory', better known as kleos here, was something that every demigod craved even you. which is why you tried so hard to learn, sword fighting with anybody who would bother, attempting to plan for things with your half-siblings. but it never worked.

at first you were angry, angry at the world, angry at your mother. how could she claim such a screw up? you'd ask, and others would agree with you. taunting and sticking up their noses as if they were better, in a way, they were. not completely— but in the ways that mattered, they were.

then, you became bitter. you had met your shining star during this stage, at the age fourteen you were introduced to a boy your age, luke castellan. he came to the camp with a young girl, talking of stories about life outside the camp and the monsters he killed. holding onto the memory of a forbidden child he fought by, you were envious.

until he took a interest in you, constantly talking to you trying to make you laugh or smile. at one point he fell into a lake while trying to get your attention, it was endearing— and stupid. you never understood why he cared so much, or why he wanted to be friends so bad.

at sixteen, you accepted the offer. not having many friends due to everybody seeing you as useless— just another child that must've gotten accidentally claimed. you allowed him into your life, slowly but surely breaking down your walls until by seventeen there's nothing left to talk about.

the bitterness lingers, though he could never relate— until the quest. that awful quest that you cried to him about going on, wanting him to stay, half in fear of him dying but also the fear of the ridicule you'd face without him there. the lack of his reputation to protect you.

you had gotten harassed while he was gone, the constant remarks about how you were the pretty face of the cabin was back-handed at best to you. but you always sneaked off to his bed in hermes' cabin, crying into his pillow when you were sure nobody else was awake.

but when he returned, everything was different. it was like he finally understood you on a deeper level than before— your frustrations with your mother, not living up to the expectations of her, he understood. he understood and more, he was angry for you, for himself and every other camper.

he talked very little of the quest, the only genuine emotions he allowed himself to feel around you being happiness and anger. brief words of anger for his father and your mother, then hushed whispers of adoration for you in the nape of your neck.

you never fully knew when luke became your boyfriend, but it was never a secret. his head buried in your shoulder during breakfast, the hand on your back when he was hiking with you and other campers, even the soft kisses he gave your wrists publicly.

so he never understood why people had grown so confident— arrogant enough to ridicule you while he stands so close by. their loud laughs mixing in with the barely concealed hisses of their disapproval for you, talking about how you're the shame of athena cabin. how you've never used your brain, or a weapon in your whole life.

nobody knew when luke had snapped, all everybody could say was that it was bloody. the beloved camp counselor defending his loves honor— by pounding in another boys face, leaving him bruised and bleeding on the hard dirt.

all he remembers was being dragged away by chris, the ringing in his ears being too loud to hear anything other than "you got him luke calm down!" and "mr. castellan, meet me after you're done with the medic." before he was hauled off to the apollo children.

he remembers waiting, a long time. being patched up by an apollo girl, her harsh words of how stupid he was and how girls don't like violent men barely processed in his brain. he was on autopilot without you— he barely ate or drank until you were allowed in the medic office.

you had waited for what felt like years before you were allowed in, you couldn't help but bask in the spotlight for a moment after the fight, just thriving from the fear he had caused for you. you rushed to him as soon as you could, running your fingertips gently over his scar and down his jaw.

his jaw unclenched when he realized it was you, leaning into your touch he presses soft kisses from your palms to your wrists. he swears on the gods that he'd kill for you if it meant you touched him as if he was this delicate for all eternity.

"luke," you say, as if your lungs can't take in enough air. "are you okay?"

he almost laughs at how dumb the question is, is he okay? he feels awesome right now, a sense of pride resonating deep within him from the adrenaline and the attention you feed him as you sit on the medic cott.

"im fine, baby." he rasps out, running his hands up the tops of your thighs until he can pull you by your hips. your body flushed against his. "are you alright?" he whispers against your neck, the bandages on his face tickling you.

you barely know how to respond, you're not okay but at the same time you've never felt better. "im hurt," you mumble, being honest with your feelings even though you know his are bottled. "but im glad."

he feels another spike of anger, your perfect self should never have to be touched by the ugliness of others words. but he tilts his head to the side, almost as if to realize and ask why you're glad.

"you defended me," you whisper, quietly as if you're ashamed of how you feel. you bite the inside of your lip in shame before pressing a soft kiss to his head. "you fought for me, and im thankful."

his hands lightly trail from your hips and up your sides, gently leaving adoring touches in his wake before cupping your face. he leans his forehead against yours, looking at your lips before focusing on your eyes.

"id kill the gods for you," he whispers, his eyes darkening as your eyes light up. "just say the word, baby."

[marieracingteam]

A Flower to a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1612

summary: The story of how Lance finally met Lily, or the story of how Lawrence became a flower before he became a grandpa.

Lily was just two years old when Lance met her mom, which meant that Lily wasn't really aware of all that was happening in her life.

She knew she had a mum and she knew, somewhere, she had a dad. Dad, however, was never around so she didn't really think much of him or his family, whom Lily had barely met. She also knew that mum had a mum and a dad who lived far away and she only saw once or twice a year and a few more times over the phone.

But that was pretty much all. For Lily, mum was her everything –and for the most part her only thing– for her whole short life.

That was until Lance came through.

Her mum and he had been talking for a whole year before she agreed to start calling their dates dates, but not before he met her daughter and she gave them their blessings.

Lance of course had accepted her pace, how could he not when he knew she was just protecting her daughter and herself after being betrayed by her last partner?

And because he knew how much she needed everything to be perfect, he tried extra hard to make everything perfect on that first day.

Maybe a little too hard.

He had spent long hours thinking about every single detail. He had even asked his father for help like he tended to do.

Maybe that is why he was so nervous when he first met Lily. The now three years old, in response, got also shy, probably sensing the grown-ups expectations.

“Hello Lily. I am Lance, mom’s friend. Mom has told me a lot about you and I wanted to meet you” he said while offering the girl his hand.

“Hi you!” she squealed before running back into the living room where she was playing with some dolls.

However, the dinner had gone more smoothly. At least at first. Lance had relaxed enough to make conversation with the little girl and Lily had quickly forgotten that she didn't know him when he started to ask her about the things she loved.

He had thought about gifting something to the little girl, but his father had told him to not buy the girl with expensive gifts. So instead he had learned to do paper dolls like Lily's mum had told him she loved to do.

Lily was so close to liking him when her mum started to breathe strangely.

“Peanuts” she screamed, grabbing her neck and making Lance run to where she always kept an EpiPen in her bag.

If he hadn't been so worried about the woman swelling up in his backseat, he would have probably been stressed about the crying little girl he had left with his father at home.

Because he loved his father, he truly loved the old men, but he could be scary and he knew he was bringing down his chances of winning the little girl’s heart by the second.

“Sorry, love. The bakery must have mix up the cakes. I don't know how that happened. I am so sorry. I told the man a thousand times to not put any nuts” Lance said again and again while he ran to the hospital.

The woman just laughed at the situation and when Lance looked at her through the rearview she was smiling. He didn't know then, but that was the first time someone had cared so much about her and her daughter.

And Lance didn't have anything to worry about, because back at home his father was doing all the hard work with Lily.

“So…” Lawrence said looking at the little girl who was sitting on the sofa eating ice cream “I heard you like doing paper dolls”

“Yeah” she answered, licking the spoon clean “And you?”

“Not my expertise, but I can see the charm in it”

Lily just looked up at him. When she had calmed down after the old man explained to her that her mom was fine but she needed a bandaid to be perfect, the girl had started to analyze the man.

Her mum had told her beforehand all about her friend and the get-together they were going to have that night, but she didn't expect any of that. Her mother had forgotten to tell her that after dessert they would run out and leave her alone at home with an unknown man.

Lily knew she was just a little girl, but wasn't that what her mother had told her not to do?

“You are weird, Flower” the girl finally said after deciding that she could trust the strange man with the funny name. If her mother trusted him enough to leave her in his care, who was she to not do it?

“Why is that?” Lawrence asked sitting beside her on the couch. 

The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to say those things to people, especially older ones. The previous comment had slipped out of her mouth.

In her defense, Lily would say that Lance's dad was strange indeed. Lance too. Her mother's friend had sweaty hands and had dropped his spoon more times than she had. Plus, mom's friend's face turned red all the time. All the times her mom spoke at least.

But Lance's dad was even weirder. All his hair was white, all. Plus he was the oldest person Lily had ever seen, even older than Mom's friend from work who had just turned 40 recently and invited them to her party. The man was tall and was wearing a suit like on TV. Lily had never seen anyone on the streets of her town in Canada wearing one of those outfits beyond the movies.

Plus, Lance's dad had let her eat the ice cream straight out of the container to stop her from crying, which was weird, because her mom never let her do that. But she wasn't going to complain.

“And what is that Flower thing?” Lawrence asked finally.

“Your name, duh” Lily responded with the spoon still in her mouth.

See? Weird. The man had just said that was his name.

“My name is Lawrence” the man corrected.

“Florence,” she said back before making the connection “flower”.

The man laughed a deep laugh that reminded Lily of movie villains. And he looked like one. If he didn't have such a funny name, Lily probably would have been scared of him. “I am not a flower”

“You look like one” the girl responded, sure of her opinion.

“Why is that?” the man pressed, amused at the conversation.

“The white petals” she said pointing at his hair “Do you know how to braid?”

Lawrence laughed again. Lance had told him a lot about the woman he was meeting and had told him some things he was discovering about her daughter, but Lawrence did not expect the pleasant surprise that was meeting first the mother at a gala and then the girl, even if it was under those circumstances.

The mother was polite and affectionate with his son. Lawrence had been doubtful of her at first, as he always used to be when someone new came into their lifes. But at no time had she shown interest or asked for anything in exchange of her company like other used to do. If Lawrence was right, and he usually was, the only reason she was still with Lance was because she was really interested in his son.

And the girl. The girl had been a breath of fresh air.

It had been a long time since Lawrence last was around small children. His children were already grown and despite his insistence, his daughter had not yet made him a grandfather.

Even if the girl wasn't exactly Lance's, if everything went as his son expected that night, this wouldn't be the last time Lawrence would see the girl.

And, at that moment, he felt like it was in his power to help make everything happen that way, even if he himself had shown him his reluctance when he found out that the woman his son was with already had a daughter from a previous relationship.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want one braid?” he offered.

“No” she said still licking the empty spoon.

“Lance also knows how to braid. He is very good at it” lied the man. He didn't truly know why he was doing it but he guessed that he will need the extra help impressing the little girl after almost poisining her mom.

While waiting for her mom to come back, Lily decided the man wasn’t that bad anymore. And he was a flower after all. A flower who had ended up braiding her hair into smalls braids and had cut the paper dolls Lance had brought for her. 

He was still a little weird and a little scary looking but he wasn't that bad.

And he was comfy. She had found that when she laid her braided head in his chest while playing with the dolls. 

And! When her mom asks her tomorrow when she wakeds up on her own bed surrounded by all her plushies, she will say that the flower was a magician. Which was a pretty impressive story.

Even when she had swore she wasn't going to fall asleep until her mom came back, the flower had charm her into sleeping while rubbing her belly, like she did with her mom's friend's puppy.

She may not know a lot about old people or grandparents but the flower wasn't that bad himself. And maybe his son wasn't so bad either.

[sunnytarg]

A aemond Targaryen x velaryon reader smut ( daughter of laenor and rhaenrya ) where instead of lucerys going to storm ends she goes and he hears that she is betrothed to Cregan Stark, so he basically demands that she gives her self to him or he will kill her brothers👀. So she runs and he chases her and kidnaps her on a island where they yk and she gets pregnant… towards the end rhaenrya gets wind of her only daughter getting kidnapped and impregnated causing the war because she thinks she was assaulted by aemond.

This turned out to be so much longer than I meant for it to be so I hope you enjoy it. You can also read it on Ao3

The Song of Asteria || Aemond Targaryen x Niece!reader

Aemond had always trodden the fine line between love and hate when it came to the eldest Velaryon sibling. He admired and hated her. He lusted after her and wanted to wrap his hands around her neck at the same time for the way she made him feel.

When they were children it was simply envy he felt toward her. While his brother ran away from his Targaryen heritage, Aemond dove in head first. He learned everything he could about Old Valyria and their ancestors. Why they could ride dragons and sometimes have prophetic dreams. Despite all of this, he was still only half Targaryen by blood and his father never talked to him about what it meant. This made it easy to hate his nephews, as they were so clearly bastards. They walked around with the name Velaryon, claiming to be the blood of the dragon when they were nothing more than a product of an affair with no one special.

His niece was different, though. She outmatched them all with her Valyrian blood. She was a Targaryen and a Valyrian and had both her parents around to tell her what it meant to be the blood of the dragon. When they left for Dragonstone he tried not to think of her much but his thoughts always returned to her. At the funeral for Leana Valeryon, he had seen her once again. In the short time that she and the rest of her family had been gone he had learned that envy could border into desire. As they stood around outside chatting after the funeral rites he could only watch his niece. Watch her silver hair catch rays of the sun that were beating down on them. Watch as her lilac eyes trailed after the dragons that flew overhead.

He had every intention of going over and talking to her but was stopped when he saw the glare that her brother Jacerys was giving him. He must have seen how he looked at his niece. It was just another thing that the Strong bastard couldn’t understand. Targaryen's blood sang out to each other like a siren luring in prey. She was calling to him but he turned the other way when her brother went to her side.

It was that night that he had claimed Vaghar. He had proven that he didn’t need a dragon to hatch. Not when he could get the oldest living dragon to head his commands and his alone. When he had climbed off of Vaghar he only had one thing in mind and that was to talk to his niece. To prove to her that despite also having Hightower blood he was just as much of Old Valyria as she was as he had claimed a dragon finally. With this news perhaps he could persuade her to accept a betrothal with him despite their mother’s hatred towards each other. They were too young to be married now but as royals, they should have been betrothed to someone already, in fact, he was surprised it took so long for Aegon and Helaena to become betrothed.

He was not met with his niece when he returned inside, though. He was met by his nephews and cousins who were angry about what he had done. He hadn’t meant for things to go as far as they did but when his young nephew, Lucerys took his eye there was no going back. Not for anyone.

The girl he sought after would never want him now, not with an eye missing and a hideous scar marring his face. He turned to look at the Velaryon siblings two of who were bloodied and one who was awake but still blinking herself awake. He saw that she avoided looking at him. He saw how she took her brother’s side despite being the one who had caused permanent damage to him. When he looked at her an intense feeling washed over him, making blood rush in his ears and his eyes narrow in on her. He had no way of describing this feeling but before he could think to give it a name he was being yelled at by his father.

-*-

It had been years since that fateful day and he hadn’t seen his niece or nephews since. Well, he saw them in court the day his father died and at that last meal but it didn’t feel as though it mattered because he didn’t get to say anything to her. That was all he wanted and yet, he knew if given the chance, he wouldn’t know what to say.

That’s why when she arrived in Storm’s End with a message from her mother for Borros Baratheon he knew this was his chance. He knew Borros wouldn’t agree to honor his oath to his half-sister. He was not only a stupid man but he got a marriage pact out of pledging his allegiance to Aegon.

“The King has at least offered me something, girl,” Borros said to his niece whose lips curled in distaste at his words. “A marriage pact is most helpful in sealing houses together, tell me, which of your brothers will marry one of my daughters?”

Her chin lifted and her voice was strong, even over the roaring storm outside. “My brothers, Jacerys and Lucerys are already betrothed. My younger brothers are much too young to marry your daughters.”

“So, you can offer nothing.” The Baratheon said with fake pity in his voice and Aemond smirked. Despite the fact that he coveted his niece, he could help the joyous monster that rose up in him when he realized that with his father dead, there was no protection for Rhaenerya and her children. “Unless, of course, you have an offer you’d like to make? I have no sons but I have a brother.”

Aemond’s blood felt as though it has turned to ice. Not because the Baratheon lord was openly suggesting going against his agreement in front of him but because the woman in front of him could be betrothed in seconds. Torn from him before he had a chance to have her. He didn’t realize he was squeezing the hilt of his dagger as hard as he was until he heard a gentle cough from beside him. His own betrothed. Although, none of that mattered when he saw the proud smirk on his niece’s face.

“I, myself am already betrothed to the warden of the North, Cregan Stark.” When she spoke those words he could have sworn she glimpsed his way. “I would not rid myself of such a strong betrothal for a match with a Baratheon.”

She spat the name like it was rotten food in her mouth. Aemond would have been impressed with her attitude in the face of the large and proud man if he hadn’t stopped listening to her when she announced her betrothal.

“You may be a proud man but you have no honor. Not having your house's allegiance is probably for the best.” She spoke up again and then bowed her head to Borros Baratheon, “I shall take my leave, now.”

She had only turned around and taken two steps before Aemond called out, “wait!”

She froze and turned slowly. He couldn’t blame her for the hesitancy in the look she gave him but he didn’t care about that right now.

"You will not wed Cregan Stark."

There was a pause before she threw her head back and laughed. “Who, my uncle, are you to declare such a thing? The rightful ruler arranged the match and it will help my family greatly. Plus, no one else worthy enough has stepped up to try and take my hand.”

Aemond couldn’t help but feel like those last words were directed at him. They felt like a dig at him and yet he couldn’t be sure. Instead of responding to that he only pulled out his dagger and smirked at her.

“I will have you and that northern bastard won’t stand in my way.” He growled and pulled off his eyepatch to showcase his missing eye and the sapphire in its place at the same time. “Think of it as a payment for what your bastard brother took from me.”

“You tried to kill him that night.” Her mouth was in a thin line. Oh, she was angry at him for mentioning her little brother. He could have fun with this he decided.

“Would it really matter if one little bastard died?” He questioned rhetorically. He held the dagger up and looked at it before twirling it easily in his hand. “If you don’t come with me tonight then I will fly to Dragonstone tonight and not only pluck out that little shit's eyes but stab my dagger through his heart.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” The certainty that was previously in her voice had disappeared and he saw her eye up the exit.

Borros Baratheon attempted to speak but with a look from Aemond and a hand on the hilt of his sword, the lord rightly closed his mouth.

“Wouldn’t I, dear niece?”

She didn’t respond as she sprinted towards the doorway and outside. He had predicted she would do such a thing so he made after her. He didn’t run to Vaghar, he knew he would make no trip to Dragonstone tonight. His niece was fast but not faster than he was and before she could reach her dragon he wrapped his arm around her midsection tightly and knocked her unconscious. He threw her over his shoulder and walked to Vaghar.

Neither of them would be going to Dragonstone or King’s Landing tonight or for many nights to come.

-*-

The sun shining on her face woke her. She brought a hand up to shield her eyes as she looked around. She was on what appeared to be a large island. One she didn’t recognize and one that didn’t seem to have any other inhabitants. She saw that vegetation was growing on the far corner and she saw Vaghar’s large form behind the only cave on the island.

“You have no clue where we are do you?” A voice questioned behind her and she saw her uncle standing behind her. He was without his jacket but still had his sword and dagger hanging on his hips. Before she could respond he answered for her. “Of course, you don’t, I doubt many people know of this place. I found it one day when I was flying Vaghar and when I returned to the Red Keep to study the maps, hoping to learn of the place I had just found, it wasn’t on any map.”

“Why am I here uncle?” She asked, ignoring his little speech. She didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, she was trapped on an island that apparently wasn’t on any map, meaning no one would know where to look for her and she was without her beloved dragon. On the other, she didn’t feel as though Aemond wished to harm her. She wasn’t sure why she was brought here but it wasn’t for him to kill her. If he wanted to do that he would have already of done it.

He held out his waterskin for her to drink without responding to her. He only looked off at the horizon and she hesitantly grabbed it from him. When the first drops of water touch her tongue she gulped down what little was rest, not realizing how thirsty she was. She handed it back to him and stood there quietly waiting for him to speak again.

It only took a few minutes for his eyes to leave the horizon and look at her. “Are you truly betrothed to Cregan Stark?”

She wasn’t surprised by his question but by the way he asked it. He sounded almost… sad.

“Of course,” she replied automatically. She took a deep breath before reciting what she had been told over and over again after the match had been made, “I couldn’t ask for a better man to have as a husband. Not only will the Starks keep their word to my mother but Lord Stark will make a fine husband.”

Aemond chuckled without any humor, “It’s a funny thing you do. You speak and all I hear is your mother’s voice.”

She frowned at that. She didn’t want to dignify it with an answer so instead, she asked again, “what am I doing here, Uncle?”

He sighed and brushed away a piece of her hair that had tangled from the storm and said, “I told you I would have you as a repayment for what your brother did to my eye.”

When she didn’t say anything he continued. “It gets awfully cold here at night. I plan to make a fire in the cave and sleep there. You may join me but know this, if you do not come to me tonight, you will eventually.”

After he told her this he turned and walked away. She didn’t look after him but turned to the horizon as he had done.

When she was younger she liked Aemond. They were forced to live together in the Red Keep as children and she had even enjoyed his company occasionally. Before her mother had moved them to Dragonstone she had truly thought that perhaps she would be betrothed to Aemond but that thought had permanently turned to ash when he had stolen his cousin’s right to claim Vaghar and her younger brother had stolen his eye. She knew that Lucerys had never meant to permanently harm Aemond. From the retellings of that night, he was only trying to protect their brother and he panicked and pulled a knife to stop their uncle from further harming Jacerys.

It didn’t matter, though. They had not talked after that night. Neither even attempted a conversation at that last meal.

She sat down on the soft grass and looked into the ocean. Her family would eventually find her, perhaps even before nightfall. When she was returned to Dragonstone she would be reunited with not only her family but her dragon that had been left behind in Storm’s End. She smiled at the thought but couldn’t shake the feeling of what to do with her time whilst stuck on this Island. Aemond didn’t seem to want to force her to spend time with him but rather to let her have her peace.

Aemond, she thought with a sigh. She had thought about him almost every day and she would only truly be lying to herself if she said she didn’t find him attractive as he has grown and she had to admit, the sapphire in place of where his eye once was only made him more alluring.

She groaned as her thoughts strayed. How could she think of him like that after the harm he caused her family? She shook her head to rid herself of her thoughts and decided to spend her time counting all of the fish that swam by in the clear waters before her.

-*-

He hadn’t been lying when he told his niece that wave a of chill came over this Island at night. He had made sure to find some goats to leave for Vaghar for the night and then proceeded to build a fire in the cave. He knew she would come in and join him eventually, especially when she heard the crackling of the fire.

The entire day he thought over and over what he would do with his niece. He could kill her. After all, a war was coming even if so many wanted to pretend otherwise. He couldn’t bring himself to even truly consider that possibility, though. She may be killed one day in battle or she may die of old age, either way, he would have no hand in it. He could carve out her eye and send it to her family on Dragonstone but that thought was quickly tossed away as well because as much as he told himself and her that he had taken her as payment for his stolen eye, it wasn’t true. He couldn’t mutilate her. He soon realized that he couldn’t bring harm to her in any way at all. He never wanted to. All his violent thoughts were reserved for her brothers and his sister.

When he curled his jacket into a ball and laid down on the blanket that he had stored in a pack on Vaghar’s back, his niece finally entered the cave. Her arms wrapped around herself and she shook silently. She looked at the fire and then at him.

“I won’t harm you, come here so you don’t freeze to death.” His whisper carried through the cave to her ears. She eyed him wearily and in return, he only patted the spot on the blanket beside himself. She moved slowly but once she felt the heat from the fire and the warmth from his body she quickly curled into him while facing the flames.

They lay there quietly. Both waiting for the other to say something first. In their silence, he couldn’t help but let his hand wander up to her silver hair that was facing him. It was curly unlike his, probably as a result of Leanor being her father, and his sister also had straight hair. His niece stiffened when he wrapped a long strand around his finger. When he let go he moved the rest of her hair off of her neck so that it pooled between her back and his chest.

Finally, he spoke, “I was going to ask if you wanted to be my betrothed that night.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked quietly but he could hear it in the way she said it, she already knew what he was talking about.

“The night I claimed Vaghar. I finally thought myself worthy of you. Before I was stopped I was headed to find you, to ask if you would ever consider being my betrothed.” He wasn’t sure what made him finally say it out loud. Maybe it was the fact that he had held it in for so long or perhaps it was the knowledge that she was to wed Cregan Stark and his childhood fantasies were soon to truly be snuffed out.

An awkward silence enveloped them and for a moment he thought she wasn’t going to say anything in return. When she did he thought his heart might have stopped at the words she spoke. “When we were children I thought we would one day be wed. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part or maybe it truly could have happened.”

She was quiet for a moment and maybe it was because it was only the two of them on the island that she felt she could actually speak the truth. “I don’t want to marry Cregan Stark.”

He almost didn’t catch her whispered truth but when he did he asked quietly against her back, “what about what you told Borros Baratheon? Cregan Stark is an honorable man.”

“He is a perfect match for an ally, but I have never met him.” She replied. She then chuckled and said, “plus, I doubt I would like Winterfell very much. I’m sure it’s much colder there than it is here and I already feel as though I have turned to ice.”

He smiled despite the fact that she couldn’t see him.

She turned over so she was staring at him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see in her lilac eyes. Maybe anger or hatred for stealing her away but instead her eyes held a softness as she looked at him. Without saying a word she brought her hand up to his cheek, to the bottom of the scar. When he flinched, she stopped her hand and didn’t continue her movements until he finally met her eyes and nodded. She pulled his eyepatch off of his head and he watched as she took him in.

He wasn’t sure what she was doing or planning but when she leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips he made sure to meet her halfway. When she pulled back a fraction of an inch she breathed against his lips and whispered something that made his cock harden in his breeches, “just for tonight we could pretend that things went right that night. We could pretend to be husband and wife, no one would know other than us and the stars.”

He was too stunned to speak and decided to not even try when his niece took a hold of his hand a brought it to her hip. She leaned in to kiss him again and this time it was far from chaste. Aemond grabbed her by the nape of her neck and held her closer to him and when she squealed in response he licked into her mouth to taste her. Just the taste of her mouth was addicting and Aemond doubted he could leave this to just this one night.

He moved away from her now swollen lips and kissed her jaw and down her neck. He made sure to squeeze her hip harshly before rolling her onto her back. He pulled away for a moment to look down at her and with the way her eyes were blown with lust, her cheeks tinted pink and her silver hair fanned out around her on the ground, he was sure that he had a goddess of Old Valyria underneath him.

She reached to untie his breaches at the same time he pushed her dress up her thighs. She was not wearing a corset, shedding herself of it before entering the cave. It only made pulling her dress off all that much easier. Aemond brushed her hand away from his breeches and dove down to suck at one of her hard nipples. He brought one hand up to cup her breast and play with her other nipple as he sucked on the other. Her skin was so soft and despite the cold, she was warm. His other hand ghosted down her body until it reached the apex of her thighs. When he brought his middle finger down to run through her slit that was soaked she arched up into the air as she choked out a moan.

He watched her face closely as he delved his finger into her. She had her eyes closed and her mouth shaped into a perfect ‘O’. Aemond let go of her breast and moved to kiss her again. He pulled away slightly, his lips brushing hers as he said, “you’re so fucking wet. So ready to take my cock, just like you were always meant to.”

She nodded her head vigorously and whined, “Aemond, please.”

“Please what, My princess?” He teased with a smirked ask as he slid another finger into her warm cunt. He growled lowly at the way she gripped his fingers and could only imagine how her cunt would feel around his cock.

“Fuck me,” she said breathlessly as she wiggled against his fingers. “Please.”

He smiled and pulled his fingers from her. He brought them to her mouth for her to taste herself and she didn’t waste time in sucking them.

“In all due time, my dear niece,” Aemond said as he slid down her body. “First I plan on learning what you taste like.”

Aemond gave her no time to respond before he grabbed both of her thighs and held them open and brought his tongue to her soaking wet cunt and dove his tongue into her folds. He listened to the sounds she made and when she grasped onto his hair, he latched onto her clit and sucked. She was a babbling mess as she ground her cunt onto Aemond’s face. Aemond only sat still with mouth open and let her take her pleasure. He listened and her moans filled the cave and when she came with his name on her lips he hesitantly detached her hands from his hair and moved his mouth back up to her lips. She was still panting when she leaned down to kiss her.

She still had her eyes closed and was panting as he quickly finished untying his breeches. He pulled them far enough down to free his cock and no further. When she opened her eyes she looked at her uncle and saw him fisting his cock while looking at her. Since they started this, it was the first time she felt hesitant. She was still a maiden and looking at the size of her uncle she couldn’t help but wonder how the stretch of his thick cock would feel inside of her.

He leaned over her, holding himself up with one of his arms beside her head and he used his other hand to guide his cock in between her folds. Her whole body tightened at the intrusion and Aemond kissed her gently on her cheek and whispered reassuring words until he was buried into her to the hilt. He fought everything in him not to move and to let her adjust to him before he fucked her. He brought his other hand down to massage her thigh as she breathed deeply. As soon as she nodded Aemond pulled out slowly and thrust back in at the same speed, watching her the entire time. When the pinched look melted off of her face Aemond began to thrust harder into her. Whatever he had imagined she might feel like around his cock was nothing compared to how it really felt. He buried his face into her sweaty neck and groaned and he started to truly fuck her. He felt her breast bounce against his chest and the sounds of her moans and their skin slapping together filled the cave.

When he started to feel a coil in his stomach, letting him know he was close to cumming he brought his fingers down to her clit and rubbed at the same pace as his thrusts. His niece clenched hard around his cock as she came with a squeal.

He pulled back from her and continued to thrust, his arms caging her in. He lowered his mouth to hers and whispered hoarsely, “I’m going to fill you up. Just like I’ve been dreaming of doing for years. I’m going to fill you with my seed and I’m going to keep fucking you until my seed takes.”

The surprised look on her face made him groan and spill inside of her. He laid down on top of her, not removing himself from inside of her as they both caught their breath.

After a few minutes, Aemond pulled away and pulled off his breeches which only made his niece whine. His smile was similar to that of a dragon looking down at its prey when she whine at the loss of his body on hers.

“Don’t worry dear niece,” He said and he turned her around to lay on her stomach. She turned her head to look back at him with confusion when she saw his cock was hard again, “I’m going to fuck you several more times before the sun comes up.”

-*-

The two of them had stayed on the island longer than either of them planned. When his niece suggested that they stay for a few more days just so they don’t have to deal with the immediate headache of the succession of the throne and the problems it has caused Aemond agrees without thought. Because as much as he has always done his duty to his family, he now he’s to spend every night with his cock buried deep inside his niece and he’s almost certain there is no better feeling.

Eventually, they find themselves staying on the island, watching as the moon makes its way across the sky. They find peace with each other and not having to be in the middle of courtly politics all day every day. It isn’t until the moon passes for its third rotation. That his niece begins to act strange. When he asks her what’s wrong she tells him she has yet to bleed since Aemond has taken them to this island. It isn’t hard to guess what she’s saying. Aemond has spilled his seed into her every night and she has stopped bleeding. There really is no other explanation other than she must be carrying his child.

When a large smile spreads across his face, she lets out a sigh of relief. He suggests that they mount Vaghar and go to King’s Landing where she will receive care from the maesters for the remanding months. He rambles on about how they can be wed and have a family all while his niece thinks back to her own family on Dragonstone. They must believe her to be dead. Her dragon must have returned without her and they could have only assumed the worst, especially if the Baratheons tell anyone of how Aemond had stolen her away. Her hand finds its way to her stomach which has yet to swell. What would her mother think about her carrying Aemond’s child? She knows that her mother wouldn’t be happy but she wouldn’t turn her back on her. Would she?

When Aemond notices quickly that she has checked out of the conversation and is holding her stomach protectively. He whispers reassurances into her hair that when they get to King’s Landing that she can write to her mother about what has happened. That when the maesters are done checking over her she can even go back to Dragonstone and have their child there because as much as he loves her and would love to be a father to their child, he understands if when they leave this island she might not want to be his bride.

He only smiles softly and tells him that of course, she’ll marry him and when they mount Vaghar and finally leave the island behind, the first thing they do when they arrive in King’s Landing (after Aemond explains everything to his mother and grandsire) is marry.

His new wife writes a letter to her mother and explains what happened. They wait for a response only for a moon later to have her dragon arrive in King’s Landing with a note tied to its saddle. When she pulls the letter off and looks at it she freezes as she reads the words.

Her mother has declared war. Believing her daughter to have been kidnapped and assaulted by the brother of the usurper to have been a plan of the greens, she won’t let it slide. Not after her daughter has been impregnated and forced to carry the child of their enemy.

When she hands the letter to Aemond, he places a protective hand on her stomach which has begun to slowly grow. When he flew to Storm’s End many moons ago, he knew a war was on the horizon but he had not expected that he would have a child that would not only need protection but would most likely be brought into it.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki

Pairing: Gojo x girlfriend!reader; dad!Gojo x Megumi and Tsumiki

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Warnings: fluffness overload, there's absolutely not enough content for the dynamic between Gojo and his kids in the manga so we'll make our own, a little bit of spicy mentions especially in the bonus material so be prepared for cheeky Gojo

„I thought I told you I don’t want you to dress up as Santa in bed, Satoru. How many times do I have to tell you that this doesn’t turn me on at all?”, you moan, eyes roaming all over your beloved boyfriend.

There he stands, wearing a bright red costume, a way too big hat and the worst fake looking beard you have ever seen. What the hell has gotten into him again?

He turns around, sly grin beaming your way. At least that pants seem to fit him pretty well, they really bring out his strong legs and well, that special part between his legs. Huh, maybe it doesn’t look as off-turning as you thought it would…

“For once, I’m not doing this for you. Don’t you ever think about the kids, (y/n)?”, he teases you.

The kids? Does he talk about Megumi and Tsumiki? No, he absolutely can’t. Out of all people, your boyfriend should know best that Megumi will probably leave and never return if he sees Satoru dressed up like this. And Tsumiki? Well, she might not be as harsh as Megumi, but even she will just stare at him bamboozled. Yes, those kids aren’t particularly joyful when it comes to Satoru’s goofy side and everyone knows.

Except for him, apparently.

“The kids will hate you for this”, you clarify, fingers getting stuck in the fake hair of his beard.

He draws you closer, arms wrapping around you tightly while the poor fabric of his costume scratches against your cheek.

“You just can’t accept that they love me more than you. Just watch and see the magic in their eyes.”

A huff escapes your lips, head shaking by itself. Oh, you’ll definitely watch as he makes a fool out of himself in front of the kids. This will be fun.

-later-

“Hey (y/n), where is that freak?”, Megumi greets you, neatly dropping his schoolbag into the same spot as usual.

“Come on, Megumi-chan, don’t call him that”, you softly reply.

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him since morning.”

“(y/n)!”, Tsumiki cries out and runs into your open arms instantly.

What a sweet girl she is. Despite the fact that both her mother and father are gone, she always wears a wide grin on her face, embracing you in a hug whenever she lays her eyes on you. Megumi on the other hand, just stares at you from afar with his arms crossed in front of his chest. How is it possible for siblings to be this different?

“Why do you talk about him this way, Megumi? Don’t you know we would have never met (y/n) if it wasn’t for him?”, Megumi’s sister reproves him in an instant.

“Huh, you’re right about that”, the petite boy mumbles to himself, eyes set on you.

“Ho ho ho children.”

You blink a few times, the voice behind the closed door being pitched so ridiculously low that your cheeks redden. He told you he’ll surprise the kids today, you should have seen it coming after he tried on that strange suit this morning. But to be honest, you hoped it was just to mess with you, that he was just playing around a little.

Until the door swings open and reveals Satoru Gojo in a Santa costume, wearing his iconic pair of sunglasses.

“You can’t be serious about that”, Megumi mumbles in the corner.

You don’t know what to do. Dying of laughter or dying of embarrassment? By the way he steps into the middle of the room with boots that look way too similar to the ones you just bought a few months ago, you have no time to think about that.

“Since I know (y/n) is always naughty, I’m here to check if at least you kids have been good this year”, he announces.

It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth from shooting up and to suppress the little giggle that creeps up your throat. But there you stand, smiling like an idiot while shaking your head, watching the priceless drop on Megumi’s cute little face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

Tsumiki lets go of you, blinking over and over in an attempt to understand what’s going on. Everybody just stands dead still in their tracks, staring at what’s definitely Satoru Gojo in front of them.

“I see, you’re a feisty one, little man. Watch how you speak to someone my age!”

“You’re 18.”

“I AM NOT! LOOK AT MY WHITE BEARD.”

Tsumiki is the first one to break with a squeal, holding onto your body for hold while shaking uncontrollably in laughter.

“This isn’t funny, young lady!”, Satoru’s low voice speaks out harshly.

He sends you over the edge. Your little giggle escalates into loud laughter, making your stomach ache so badly that tears run down your cheeks.

“You look ridiculous. Take that off.”

With a swift motion, Megumi pulls down the fake beard that was set in place by a cheap elastic, exposing the pout of pure outrage on Satoru’s lovely face. Oh, how much you love that man. The man who lost it all last year, the man who cared about those kids he didn’t even knew enough to basically adopt them, the man who does everything to make Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s life as pleasant as possible.

Even if it means dressing up as Santa.

“Huh, how did you get it was me?!”

“Are you kidding? You’re even wearing your sunglasses, idiot.”

“HOW DARE YOU TO CALL YOUR DAD IDIOT, I RAISED YOU-“

“Raised me? You know me since last year!”

“He would never admit it, but I know that he really admires Satoru from deep down”, Tsumiki suddenly hushes into your ear.

You wipe your tears away, observing the scene laying itself out in front of you with a wide smile. It’s not a secret to anyone in this room that life has its ups and downs, that everything is shitty from time to time. But precious moments of joy like this that make even Megumi turn away with an ever so slight grin make you realize what life really is about.

“I think you were quite convincing”, you comment sarcastically.

“You…It was your fault! You told them about my surprise!”, your boyfriend cries out overdramatically.

It takes him not even seconds to be by your side, grabbing you by your waist and tickling your over-sensitive spots he knows so well.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!”, you shout between multiple giggles, tears of joy streaming down your face all over again.

“B-but…I like that suit better than I thought.”

His hands stop immediately, eyes darkening in an instant.

“Is that so, huh? Maybe I can show it off better in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Come on, Megumi. Time to go”, Tsumiki hisses, dragging her brother out of the room by his small hand.

-dirty bonus-

"Tsumiki?", Megumi mumbles muted.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Do you think (y/n) is okay?"

Tsumiki blinks into the darkness around her, trying to understand what her little brother means by his words.

"She definetely was when Satoru dressed up as Santa. Why?"

"When I went to the toilet, I heard her screaming. She even screamed his name. I guess I'm just a little...worried. Do you think we should go check-"

"NO", Tsumiki interrupts him immediately, her face heating up in an instant.

Oh god.

"Absolutely not. Just stay here and try to sleep."

"But what if-"

"NO. And never tell me about something like this again!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez