#it's the fact that charlie's so tired and done and so not willing to take any shit because he can see behind the curtain

[dennisboobs]

the funniest thing about writing charden is that they can either fucknasty with approximately zero leadup or be like two opposing magnets that I'm trying to push together

[truearchangel]

@thylightbringer:

"Deep breath, I have you."

Michael likes to think that he is, actually, an incredibly strong willed person. He likes to think that he was stable, emotionally and mentally, when it came to most things. Sure, he tended to suppress a lot of things. He worked hard for many centuries so he just wouldn't have to think about Lucifer. And it did work, of course it worked, otherwise he wouldn't have continued to do it.

But Heaven offered him those distractions. From his thoughts, his questions, from the way that the world was trying to consume him. It gave him all of that because he was so heavily needed up there.

That isn't the same case down here.

Michael doesn't believe, doesn't see himself as needed down here. Not by anyone. He's an inconvenience at most to Charlie, getting in the way of her hotel and daily operations by asking pointless questions and making the sinners uncomfortable. For Lucifer, he's just a freeloader. Granted, he has offered to leave. To not be in the way and taking up space. But that doesn't change how it feels.

He serves no purpose down here other than searching for his own self-validation and that… well it's pathetic. It is pathetic to be like this, to be in the way and causing problems. To be down here because he wants to justify the things he has done.

Any other person would look at that and ask someone what's wrong with them. That doesn't mean he's going to stop, but it puts the things he feels into a different perspective. Emotionally, mentally, outwardly he looked fine.

Internally was a different story.

He felt like he was unraveling most of the time.

The crack to his halo had not improved. Michael had tried many times to fix it. He tired praying, meditating, avoiding Lucifer. He tried sitting down and writing out long mental notes on the reason for the crack. He tried everything he could think of to make it more balanced.

It didn't happen. No matter how hard he tried, nothing worked at all. It just made his thoughts spiral more. Made them chaotically loop around and leave him with nothing. Just more thoughts about the questions that we're trying to eat him alive. And that… that was where things started to get worse.

Lucifer has been busy. Which was fine, the more distance between them the better with this. He let his thoughts run, let things try and work themselves out. The only problem with that was the fact he was then alone with his thoughts. A dangerous thing for an angel slipping from grace.

At first, Michael hadn't noticed it. Hadn't even thought to look. He had been avoiding his halo, since the crack showed up he didn't want to see it really. But—he caught sight of something on it.

Michael had been in the large library his brother own, looking through the books on the top shelf. His wings were carrying him through them, his halo burning brightly on top of his head. As he passed one of those stained glass windows, the colors dancing beautiful along the dark woods of the shelves and something just… drew his attention.

So he turned his head toward it and shifted down a little bit, trying to get a more clear part of the window to look. And in it, in his reflection, he saw something dark on his halo near the crack. Frowning he shifted a little closer, turned his head, and in the clear of the window got a view of what it actually was.

A black spot.

Sin physically manifests itself in varying ways. For the sinners, a lot of them have black stains up their arms. Lucifer was one of these people he could think of, Alastor was another. Some of them have black eyes, others have black scars somewhere. For angels, he honestly had no idea how it would show.

But the moment he saw that on his halo, he knew what it was. The crack hadn't spread, but the sinful thought against the Heavenly Order that caused it did. His distrust, his judgment, his fear of God.

Sin showed itself, clawed along his crack, as was threatening to drown his entire halo. Michael has thought it before, has told it to Lucifer himself, but he can't fall. If he leaves Heaven, what will happen to it? To their siblings? To the people he swore to protect?

He can't.

He can't, he can't, he can't—

When he hit the ground, his body collapsing in panicking and unable to control itself, it felt like his lungs were trapped in his own body. Unable to breathe properly, unable to think past the fear that was drowning him. And how intense it was. Michael had never in his life felt fear like this, not even when he stood across from Lucifer that day in Heaven. That had been sadness, distress, crushing heartache.

This was petrifying terror.

He hadn't even heard Lucifer enter the library, didn't hear him make his way between the bookshelves to try and find Michael. But he felt when his brother grabbed, when his arms wrapped tightly around him and tried to drag Michael up against him.

He struggled against his twin briefly, wanting to just reach up and yank that halo from the top of his head. Something his brother had to know considering how tightly he pinned Michael's own arms against him. When it becomes clear he isn't going to win this he stops fighting to settle for dropping his head against Lucifer's chest, feeling the first prickling sensation of tears in his eyes.

What a failure he was.

[carni-val]

Fertility issue Jax teller imagine would be interesting to read

A Man of His Word [Jax Teller]

pairing: Jax Teller x Reader

summary: Jax consoles you after another pregnancy test turns up negative.

author’s notes: I am not big into writing about pregnancy and fertility issues but any opportunity to write soft!Jax is an opportunity I will take. I hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

warnings: Fertility problems, angst but with a happy ending because I am incapable of leaving things on a sad note unless requested to do so

Charlie Hunnam Masterlist | Jax Teller Masterlist

Another shake of your head and another look of disappointment that was quickly masked by Jax. Without a word, he took you into his arms. The first few times you got a negative pregnancy test, you would cry into his chest - the cries turning to sobs each time you were let down again and again, but now you were exhausted, numb, and wondering what you were doing wrong. You had done everything you could, listening to advice from your doctor and even women’s health magazines. Maybe you just weren’t destined to have a kid, no matter how much you or Jax wanted one.

“Hey,” Jax spoke, pulling you away from his chest. You looked up at him as worry and the subtle hint of disappointment clouded his eyes. The sight made you want to cry. “What’s going through your head?”

You shrugged. there was just silence. Nothing else. You didn’t have the energy to think about this anymore.

“We’ll try again,” Jax cupped your face in his hands.

“Only to be disappointed again?” you pulled your face away from his grasp, heading towards the bedroom. “No thank you.”

You decided you were done. For real and for good. There were times that you said that, in hopes that you would trick the universe into thinking you would be fine with any outcome, but that didn’t work either. It seems as though the universe saw through you because here you were again: let down and unable to look Jax in the eye. You thought it would get easier, dealing with this for as long as you have, but it only seemed to get harder.

“Hey,” Jax entered the room just as you were laying down on the bed with your back to him. “We’re not giving up on this.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of how Jax could deal with all of this over and over again. You felt the bed dip with his weight as he sat down.

“Jax, I just want to be alone right now,” you told him.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his body that was laying behind you.

Feeling his body weight against you made your hard resolve crumble and you felt the tears forming in your eyes. You closed them, willing the tears to go back to where they came from because you were so tired of crying, being hurt and angry, and disappointing Jax. However, when you felt Jax kiss your cheek and stroke along your arm with his thumb, the tears multiplied and streamed down your face.

“I’m sorry Jax,” you hiccuped. You knew how much he wanted another child and the fact that you were unable to give him one hurt you so deeply. The two of you had talked about having kids long before you tried and the idea excited you - having your own child that was equal parts you and Jax - but now, you felt like you were just hurting Jax over and over again by getting his hopes up. You didn't know how much more he could take and if he couldn’t take any more, would he still be able to be with you?

Jax shushed you, rocking you gently in his arms. He pulled your head deeper into the crook of his neck and pressed his cheek to yours. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he assured you. “Until then, we have Abel to keep us entertained - he’s got the energy of two kids anyways.”

“I know,” you sighed, “And I love Abel, but I want my own child - I want to carry the baby in my belly; feel it kick and grow inside of me. I want to give birth to it; I want to have a child that’s mine from the beginning to the end.”

“And you will,” Jax assured you again. “We’ll go to more doctors, we’ll talk to specialists, and we’ll make appointments. we still have options, babe. I’m gonna give you a baby.”

You let out a breath, trying to calm yourself down as you absorbed Jax’s words. He was right. There were still so many things the two of you hadn’t even tried yet. For a moment, fear struck you at the thought of specialists and procedures not working either, but you knew you would have to try before knocking them completely. You grasped onto Jax’s hand in yours and he reciprocated, grasping your hand in his before bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.

You relaxed your body against him as he wrapped you up tight in his arms. “Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay,” the smile was evident in Jax’s voice. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before cupping your jaw and turning your head to face him as he hovered over you. He leaned down, kissing you firmly with the promise he had made to you, Not only of giving you child, but also of his unconditional love for you. Jax was a man of his word, especially when it came to you.

[theraspberryler]

Slime Primers

Another fic done! I actually really like how this one turned out, I am unbelievably soft for this pair. Based on this prompt here!

Summary: Tommy is stubborn and won’t admit that he may be in a mood, but Charlie is a teasy bastard and decides to put an end to it. 

~This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your jam then please move on!~

TW - none I don’t think, let me know if I need to add any

The Tommyinnit was absolutely not in a lee mood. You’d have to be crazy to think that a big man such as him could even get lee moods. In fact, he was so not in a lee mood that Charlie’s teasing looks and wiggling fingers weren’t even affecting him in the slightest. 

Totally. 

Tommy huffed and looked away from the other’s stupid grinning face and dumb wiggling fingers, turning his attention back to the ores he was smelting. Now, usually a task as simple as smelting ores wouldn’t really require much attention or effort, but Tommy had a rather complex system of eight different furnaces lined up, and he was constantly going to each separate furnace and collecting the one or two smelted iron ingots from them, crafting them into blocks, and then carefully arranging them in the double chest sitting next to his furnaces. 

When Wilbur walked by and asked him what the hell he was doing, Tommy had replied in a very usual Tommyinnit fashion that he was working on a craft of true expertise and precision, and that it was, in fact, very important. He immediately glared daggers at Charlie, sat on the other side of the room, who snickered in response to Tommy’s explanation. 

Because what Tommy was refusing to admit, was that early on in the day, Charlie seemed to almost instantly catch onto his (not!) mood, and took it upon himself to be the most teasy, annoying little shit he could, and Tommy was finding anything and everything to distract himself from the butterflies he felt in his tummy whenever he saw Charlie’s wiggling fingers, or heard his teasing remarks. 

Tommy knew that he was just making this more difficult on himself; Charlie knew him well, and had witnessed Tommy in multiple lee moods before. He knew exactly what got to him, and practically had every spot and reaction to every little thing memorized. But Tommy was proud, dammit, and he wasn’t going to make Charlie’s job that easy! (Well, that, and Tommy may have enjoyed the way Charlie has always been the best at getting the best reactions out of him, and wanted to prolong the fun.) He was gonna have to try harder if he wanted to break The Tommyinnit!

So, there they were, Tommy fussing around the furnaces desperately trying to fight down his embarrassed flush, and Charlie lounging around on one of the chairs in the room, immensely amused by every little squeak Tommy let out when the boy foolishly spared a glance over his shoulder at the other. 

But, Charlie did have to admit, he was pretty surprised by how long Tommy had managed to keep this up. He was poking fun at and teasing the boy for the better part of the last two or so hours, and while Tommy did look like a blushy, embarrassed mess, he still hadn’t cracked. 

Though Tommy had been holding out well so far, Charlie was always up for a challenge. Especially if said challenge involved breaking through the stubborn, cocky personality of a particular blond teenage loudmouth. 

“You’re looking awfully red, Tommy, maybe you should take a break from working over the hot furnaces, yeah? I’m sure the iron would smelt just fine on it’s own.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy growled under his breath, willing himself to not react as he saw Charlie shift in his seat in his peripheral vision, despite his heart rate picking up at the downright evil looking smirk on Charlie’s face. He forced the image out of his head, busying himself with emptying the furnaces again as he felt his mind begin to wander. 

“Really, Toms? That wasn’t very nice. You know there’s no point in resisting, because at the end of the day I’m still gonna get to scribble my fingers all over your sides, and how I’m gonna press my thumbs in between every single space in between every single ticklish little rib. And no matter how long you prolong the inevitable, you’ll still be stuck in my grasp until I decide that you’re done, no matter how much you kick and squirm.”

Okay

Fuck

Fuck Charlie Slimecicle and his stupid face and his stupid dumb teasy words, and Tommy could feel his insides turn to goo as he set down the iron ingots in his hands, covering his face and letting out a dramatic whine.

“Awe, why don’t you just come here Toms, make it easier for yourself, hm? We both know you want to bud, come on” Tommy whined again, shaking his head and wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. He didn’t think his legs would be able to carry himself over to Charlie even if he tried, so he found himself sliding down to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Luckily, Charlie seemed to understand the predicament Tommy was in, and decided to have a bit of mercy as he walked over to the other, sitting down on the ground next to the younger boy. 

“Hey, Toms.” Tommy just shook his head again, unable to stop the nervous giggles from leaking out of his mouth, and slumped down until he was practically laying down, despite the fact that Charlie literally hadn’t done a thing. 

“Shh, it’s alright Tom, come here,” Charlie said in a sweet voice, opening his arms for the other. Tommy briefly peaked out from behind his hands only to quickly return them to his face. He took a few deep, stuttering breaths, before deciding fuck it. Without moving his hands from his face once, Tommy sat up and shuffled into Charlie’s arms, immediately burrowing into the other’s chest. 

Charlie smiled at the adorable boy that was practically in his lap, wrapping his own arms around him and rubbing his back. Tommy jumped at the contact despite Charlie not having any intention of tickling him yet, his anticipatory giggles flowing freely from him. 

“Ready?” Charlie asked in a soft voice, and Tommy, not quite ready to attempt to use his words, just nodded in response, bracing himself.

So, Charlie wasted no time in sliding his hands up Tommy’s red and white t-shirt, unleashing all his fingers along the blond’s sides. He figured the boy had waited long enough, not having the heart to drag it out any longer. 

Tommy squealed before snorting, honestly not expecting Charlie to go all in right away, leaning further against the older boy and allowing himself to laugh freely. After being in a constant state of anticipation for the past couple hours, he really didn’t have the energy to attempt to hold his reactions back. 

Charlie felt himself melt at his sweet, unrestrained laughter. This was the exact reason he enjoyed messing with him like this, there were very few things that brought him more joy than Tommy allowing himself to act like a kid and be happy without worrying about his ‘image.’ 

Tommy hiccuped as Charlie trailed his fingers up to his ribs, planning on keeping true to his previous promise. 

“You know the drill by now Toms, I’m gonna go to each individual little rib you got, and every time you try to push me away we start over. Ready?” Tommy didn’t bother trying to hide his excitement, both boys knew how much he’s always enjoyed this game. Tommy put enough space between the two of them that Charlie could reach the front of his ribs with relative ease, but still facing towards the other so he could keep his face pressed into the crook of his neck, his arms winding themselves around Charlie and gripping the other tightly, in order to keep himself from pushing him away. 

Charlie cooed at him for obeying so quickly, making sure to let Tommy know how good of a job he was doing. At the praise, Tommy’s giggles went high pitched and he arched his back, grabbing a fistful of Charlie’s shirt and rubbing it between his fingers as a way to stimulate himself, and help keep him from squirming around too much. 

“Alright, here we go! Ready?” Charlie pressed his thumb into Tommy’s bottom leftmost rib, massaging into it. Tommy snorted, breaking into pitchy, childlike, loud giggles that were regularly interrupted by snorts and squeals. 

Tommy did a pretty good job of staying still for Charlie, his only real movement was the jolt he would give every time Charlie moved on to a new rib. 

By the time Charlie reached Tommy’s top left rib, Tommy had all but gone limp in his hold, his body shaking with adorable, happy laughter. And by the time Charlie had gone to each and every one of his right ribs, Tommy had tears in his eyes from laughing so much, hands repeatedly clenching and unclenching Charlie’s t-shirt as a way of grounding himself. 

Charlie took in Tommy’s disheveled, tired state and figured he should probably wrap it up for the day. 

He effortlessly scooped up the still giggling boy in his arms, who instantly allowed him to and wrapped his arms around his neck. With one hand still supporting Tommy, Charlie used his other to take the unsmelted iron out of the furnaces, not wanting to leave them running while no one was in the room to watch them. He carried Tommy back towards his room, using his hip to push the door open and closed. 

By the time he set Tommy down on his bed, the boy was already fast asleep. Charlie gently untangled Tommy’s arms from around his neck, and stood there for a moment, feeling his chest swell with pride as he watched Tommy’s relaxed, sleeping face. 

Before he left the room, he made sure to snap a picture, turning the lights off and gently closing the door, taking one last glance at the sleeping boy, making sure he was still alright. 

Slimey Boi

*attachment - one image* 

suck on that soot, I’m clearly the superior brother

Wimblur Suit 

I hate you

so fucking much 

*Wimblur Suit saved one (1) image*

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 42: Sensitive

“I’m tired of hiding,” Draco whispered into Harry’s skin, the other man still smelled of sweat, and heat, and them.

Harry trailed his fingers along Draco's spine, "Let's not decide tonight," he said reasonably, they'd been through this before. Sometimes, especially after sex, Draco decided that he wanted to tell everyone about the two of them. Harry was always willing, and had told Hermione and Ron, in fact, because Draco had said he was telling his parents. But that was months ago and Draco's parents still didn't know.

And it was fine, truly. Harry didn't care about the rest of the world. He didn't mind pretending they were just friends as long as he got to come home to Draco each night.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, his face crumpling, "Merlin, Harry." He sat up out of Harry's embrace and rubbed his hands over his face. "I've made a mess."

"You haven't," Harry said, sitting up with him. "Sweetheart," he pressed a kiss to his temple, "Don't do this to yourself."

"I've done this too many times," he said, "You don't even believe that I want to come out anymore."

"I don't think that," Harry said, pulling the sheets up higher around his waist and wandlessly summoning his glasses. "There are a lot of reasons to keep this a secret. Your parents-"

"Are bigots," Draco finished.

Harry cupped his face in his palm, "They're still your parents."

"And I am their son," he replied. "I'm telling them tomorrow. At brunch."

Harry shook his head, "I'm not asking you to do that. This is fine," he said, gesturing to the two of them. "So much better than fine, it's good, Draco. I love you."

"I love you, too, Harry," he said, "And that's the point. You are amazing and I am proud to call you mine. I'm telling them," he said decisively.

"Okay," Harry breathed, pressing a kiss to his temple. "But I won't be upset if you change your mind."

"I won't."

(Read more below the cut)

Draco left for brunch at his parents' at 10:30 so Harry assumed he wouldn't be back for at least a couple of hours. He had a routine on the days Draco went to brunch; he made coffee; wrote notes to Molly, Minerva, Luna, and Hagrid; and then curled up in the chair by the fire to read a book.

He was entirely unprepared for the floo to sound in the middle of his letter to Molly, a mere twenty minutes after Draco had left. "Babe?" he called, standing and heading toward their living room, "What did you forge-" he started but broke off when he saw Draco standing in the middle of the living room, looking stunned and lost, with tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Hey," Harry murmured, hastening forward to pull Draco into his arms. "Are you alright?"

Draco's fingers clenched in Harry's shoulders. "They disowned me," he whispered.

"What?" Harry asked, his stomach dropping, this had been exactly what he was afraid of. He could never expect that Draco would choose him when the cost was so high. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice clenching tight around the words. "Fuck," he breathed, it felt like his chest was being torn in two. "I'll go, love," he said.

"What?"

"I'll go," he repeated, pressing a kiss to Draco's forehead, "You can tell them I was a lapse in judgement," he said, he couldn't ask this much of him.

"Harry, stop," Draco said, pulling back to look at him, "I told them they could go to hell."

"What?"

He nodded, "They told me I was being ridiculous, that I was turning twenty-five in a few months and they'd already found a wife for me."

"They found a wife for you?" Harry repeated incredulously.

"Yes. I told them I'd never marry her," he shook his head, "and my father told me that no son of his," he paused and let out a shaky exhale, before visibly steeling himself to continue, "No son of his would be a bloody poof."

Harry stared at him, aghast, what could he even say?

"He told me to stop being so sensitive and to grow up." Draco shook his head, "As though I haven't been grown up since the summer I turned sixteen."

"What did you say?"

"That if no son of his was a poof, then I was no son of his." Draco looked down and Harry watched a tear roll down his cheek, "He burned my picture on the tapestry."

He held the other man tighter, "I don't know what to say, Draco. I'm so sorry."

Draco shook his head and pulled back, wiping the tears from his face, "It's fine. It doesn't matter because we're free," he said, looking up at Harry with hopeful eyes, "We don't have to hide anymore."

"Come to family dinner at the Weasley's with me tonight," Harry entreated. "Let's tell them together, they'll be thrilled and they'll finally stop trying to set me up with Charlie."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

The Weasleys were good at adopting people into their family, Draco was no exception. They'd opened champagne in their honor, had officially added a chair to the Sunday dinner seating chart, and by the time Draco and Harry were getting ready to floo back to their home Molly had a pale blue jumper ready for Draco to take with him.

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

Two months passed, they came out to everyone they knew and people were overwhelmingly supportive. The press had a field day, but that was mostly about who they were, "childhood rivals," "the savior and the death eater," etc, and not so much about the fact that they were both men.

Everything seemed to be turning out fine, better than fine even, but Harry knew that what had happened with his parents still weighed on the other man. There was nothing Harry could do and any time he'd catch Draco thinking about it, Draco would just give him that sad little smile and shake it off.

One afternoon, when Draco was at work, there was a sharp knock at the door. Harry frowned, he hadn't been expecting anyone. He opened the door to see Narcissa Malfoy standing on their front stoop, looking elegant and regal, her chin held high as she looked Harry up and down.

"Draco's at work," Harry blurted because he wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm aware," she replied coolly. "Do you think you might invite me in?"

He took a hasty step back, "Yes, of course. Tea?" he offered.

"Thank you."

"Right," he said, starting off, "The kitchen's this way." He made his way into the kitchen and put on the kettle before taking out a box of biscuits and offering one to Mrs. Malfoy.

"So he lives here with you?" she asked, looking around the room.

"Yeah," Harry replied as he fetched down two mugs. "Yeah, we bought the place about eighteen months ago at this point."

"It's charming," she replied.

Harry fetched the whistling kettle and made their tea. "Why are you here?"

"Is he happy?" she asked in lieu of answering Harry's question.

"As he can be when two of the most important people in his life abandoned him because he had the audacity to love someone," he replied.

Her face hardened, "You have no idea what it's like to live in the world we live in."

"I don't care," he spat. "I don't care about any of that. I know what it's like to live in the world that Draco lives in now. He keeps pictures of you and his father by the bed. He tells me stories about the two of you all the time. He just starts crying sometimes, because he misses you and he's fallen asleep crying more times that I've been able to keep track of. You've broken his heart.

"And," Harry continued, "If you are just here to hurt him again and to tell him that he's not enough as he is, that he was never enough, you can turn around and walk out the door."

"I came to see you, Mr. Potter," she said before taking a long sip of tea. "What could I give you to convince you not to see my son anymore?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "And if that's all you came for, you can see yourself out."

"Do you love him?"

"Immeasurably."

She stared at him for a long moment, "Will it be enough?"

"For?"

She raised the teacup to her lips before answering, "That's the question, isn't it?" Mrs. Malfoy set the cup down once more, "Did you know that Lucius and I were not intended for one another?" she asked. "Our parents made different matches for both of us but we fell in love and fortunately our blood lines were compatible."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"We've often questioned the decision we made," she said, like it wasn't difficult to admit something of this magnitude at all. "I think that Lucius doesn't want Draco to repeat our mistakes."

"This isn't a mistake," he protested. "I love him and I would do anything for him."

"Anything?" she asked. "Would you give him up? Give him a better life?"

"If I believed it was possible for someone to give him a better life than me I would in a heartbeat," he replied evenly. "But we are happy together, we've built a whole life together, one that he was too afraid to even tell you about because he cares so much about it."

The floo sounded and Draco tumbled through, "You'll never guess what flavor ice cream Fortiscues ha-" he broke off, freezing in place, "Mother," he managed and Harry could see the way be ached to touch her.

"Draco," she whispered and she rose and flew across the room, pulling him into her arms, "I've missed you my darling."

"I've missed you, too," Draco replied, voice thick with unshed tears. After a moment he pulled back, "But I haven't changed my mind," he said, reaching for Harry's hand and Harry moved around the table to stand next to him, slotting their fingers together.

"Yes," she said, a smile tugging the corner of her lips and making her look so like Draco. "He's made that much clear," she said, nodding to Harry.

"I don't understand."

She sighed, "I won't make the mistakes my parents made with Andromeda. If you love him, you have my blessing," she said. "I will continue to work on bringing your father round."

"Really?" Draco whispered and Harry squeezed his hand.

"Yes," she said, glancing over at Harry, "I can scarcely imagine someone who could love you more than he seems to." She brushed her thumb over his cheek, "You are my darling boy and I want you to have the world," she said. "And it seems that Mr. Potter will stop at nothing to give it to you."

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

Day 41: Embrace | Day 43: Truth or Dare

Sorry, friends, this one is messy. I'm just too tired to clean it up any more tonight. I'll take a look and fix it up tomorrow. <3

[placetofangirl]

Circus au part 3b! The finale :D

The next morning, the whole crew is cleaning up. They plan to leave by dinner time. Quackity stays around the tents and Wilbur stays in his room for the majority of the time. A few individuals in the troupe notice the fact that both wilbur and quackity are acting weird. Fundy goes to talk to Wilbur and Charlie goes to talk to fundy.

Fundy confronts Wilbur and gives him no escape from the conversation. He asks what is going on between him and quackity. Wilbur hesitates but ends up telling fundy literally everything. Fundy stands in shocked silence for a second before taking a breath and explaining why quackity reacted that way to his words. He explains schlatt and how much quackity wants this dream of his to be a reality. Wilbur immediately feels awful and says he will apologize.

Charlie walks up to quackity and tries to get him to talk but quackity just continues to pack up silently. Charlie then acts super sad and it finally gets quackity to tell him that he's upset because Wilbur said something. Charlie asks what he said and Q doesn't elaborate. Instead, he says that what Wilbur said scared him because it reminded him of bad things. Charlie then hugs quackity and when they split off Charlie goes to fundy and they trade stories.

Around 1 pm though, they're all called out because they packed up quicker than usual and are now leaving. Fundy and Charlie trade concerned looks but go with the rest regardless.

Later that day, Wilbur is getting ready to go out and apologize. When he looks outside, the tents are no longer there so he asks his father and Phil tells him that they left. Wilbur gets panicky and Phil asks him why. Wilbur ends up spilling the fact that he likes quackity. Phil is very supportive but he's basically just like "yeah I know. You weren't very subtle"

Phil tells him the next town that las nevadas is going to and tells him to follow his dreams. Wilbur hugs Phil. He then goes upstairs and packs his most important things.

The next morning, he hugs Phil and tommy, promises to write, then heads out to the town.

Meanwhile, las nevadas is trying to get ready for their next performance week. However, quackity is too distracted by his feelings to be any good at his acrobatics. The rest of the troupe notices and they beg him to talk about it but quackitys a stubborn bitch.

Quackity is in one of the rehearsing tents later that day when he notices someone walk in. He looks over and is met with a tired looking Wilbur wearing a trenchcoat. He asks with nervous hostility why Wilbur is there. Wilbur responds saying he wanted to say something. Quackity gets off his silks and walks towards Wilbur, and says that he better say it then.

Wilbur looks him in the eyes then kneels. He bows his head and apologizes as Sincerely as he can manage. He says that he didnt intend for his words to hurt quackity and he didn't want to hold quackity back from anything. The two of them sit in silence, wilbur not making eye contact.

The apology takes quackity by surprise and he stands surprised. All anger he had for Wilbur melts away and he starts to tear up a bit. He looks at the top of wilburs head and slowly reaches his hand to wilburs jaw. Softly lifting wilburs head, he looks him in the eyes and says that he forgives him. Wilbur sits up slightly and they kiss.

Quackity then questions that Wilbur came all the way to this town just to apologize? Wilbur blushes a little and says he mightve done it a little impulsively but he doesn't regret it at all.

Wilbur stands up fully and holds quackitys face softly. He says that he never knew what he wanted to do with his life, but he knows that he wants quackity. He then makes a joke that quackity is not willing to throw his life away to chase a boy but Wilbur is. Quackity giggles at that one. They kiss again but are interrupted by purpled yelling FINALLY.

They both turn bright red and the rest of the troupe reveals that they were watching from the tent entrance. Fundy was the one who gave Wilbur directions to find quzckity. Q feigns offense but ends up laughing.

They all split up for the night, Wilbur joins quackity in his tent. Quackity asks what he plans to do now. Wilbur says he thinks he'll join the circus. Quackith looks at him weird and then asks what act he'd do. Wilbur ends up at a loss for ideas and it makes quackity laugh. Wilbur thinks a bit longer and says that he may not have any super flashy skills but he Can Talk. Quackity is a bit confused but Wilbur gets closer and asks if they have a ringleader yet. It clicks and quackity says he likes the idea.

So from then on, Wilbur is las nevadas' ringleader. He isn't a true leader, that's still Qs job but he talks them up. With his help they start to gain popularity and las nevadas gets a permanent building to perform in. Now people come from all around to see the amazing las nevadas circus. And if the aerialist and the ringleader flirt a bit? That's all part of the show ;]

-🪶

Omg YES

Wilburrrr he's such a simp Q's got him wrapped around his finger, I can't believe he left everything for him!!

I love it when they kiss. I'm weak and also a simp myself ;w; goodness

Part 1

Part 2-A

Part 2-B

Part 3-A

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

I’m wondering what you think about Harry’s public image right now. The way he is seen by the fandom, especially non-het Harries (larries or harries who don’t think he’s straight) and the non-fandom is so strikingly different. I’ve been reading comments on different sites, primarily Reddit and some Twitter/tiktok right now about Harry, and so many are saying he’s queerbaiting. I’ve seen comments that say the only thing interesting about him is the speculation around his sexuality and that’s why he ‘queerbaits’, I’ve seen comments that say without the speculation he would be boring like Shawn Mendes, I’ve seen comments that literally say his outfits are queerbaiting, that he’s straight and playing up the “LGBT” angle for promo. I’ve seen people say that “the straights” eat up Harry’s public image of ambiguity but gay people are tired of it. To me these comments just seem preposterous and almost homophobic. I’m not going to get into a discussion of whether or not real people can queerbait in this ask, but it’s just glaringly obvious to me that Harry isn’t straight but for whatever combination of reasons is not going to fully come out anytime soon, that most likely he enjoys wearing more feminine or out-there outfits and if they also help his promo, that adds to it, and that his public image is carefully crafted to help him maintain a sense of privacy. But that’s how I see it as someone in the fandom. I feel like some people outside of the fandom are getting fed up with him; they’re essentially calling him fake and super calculated. I’m wondering if you think his team should take any steps to mitigate people thinking this way, and what they should do.

So a couple of things - I don't think very on-line queer people discoursing about Harry is his public image. I think it's worth thinking and talking about, but shouldn't be blown out of proportion. I suspect that this group is numerically as small as hard core fans, if not smaller.

I do think the fact that Harry is so vehemently seen as straight by a particular subset of queer people is really interesting. And there are lots of different things you could say (and I was making some of those points earlier).

But generally to me it shows the power of compulsory heterosexuality - the aura that Harry has sex with women is very powerful.

***********

But the question about what Harry and his team should do is a really interesting one. I think it's impossible to answer - because we don't know what the restrictions are (and I think in general 1D fandom is very willing to speculate about what should happen, without thinking about what the restrictions might be).

To me the big question is what is Harry prepared to do, and what is the record label prepared for Harry to do.

It'd be very reasonable if Harry didn't want to talk about his sexuality at all, or only wanted to do it in certain terms. And the record label has invested a lot of money and probably has a very conservative idea of what's needed to protect the fantasy boyfriend audience.

The obvious answer of what Harry could do is to make it just one notch more specific that he was attracted to men. He could have said 'I'm asked about my sexuality more than I should be and I don't want to talk about it directly.' And then covered Charlie XCX's boys (perhaps that would be too many notches, but you get the idea). Or he could have done carpool karaoke with James Corden and James could have said that he was attracted to men and then asked if Harry had ever thought of hooking up with James. There would be options to be explicit that he's attracted to men, without ruffling the fantasy boyfriend audience, and not giving any space for follow up (or even requiring Harry to use words).

But that approach may well be vetoed either by Harry, or people he's working with.

For me the question then becomes - whose advice is Harry taking on this. Because Harry Lambert could give him good advice about how he was seen in queer scenes and how to avoid being seen as queerbaiting. But I don't know if he's in those meetings, or if his influence is restricted to clothes. I'd be worried if Harry was only getting straight people's advice about how to navigate all this.

And one reason I think that might have happened is that we haven't seen the Late Night Talking video yet. Now there are lots of reasons for that (particularly the success of As It Was) so I'm not leaping to conclusions. But one possibility I'm considering at the moment is that the backlash to Harry's comments in Better Home and Gardens took them by surprise, and that there's an attempt to figure out how to mitigate the response in a reactionary sort of way. And that the way they respond to the criticism will be to be less queer. Rather than to be explicit enough in a way that people will understand.

I think it'd be a real shame if that happened (although obviously it's all speculation at this point). And I do think that sort of reactionary response would come from the advice of straight people. But I think it's worth saying that Harry's decision making team does seem to be full of straight people, and that's very much a decision he's made. If he makes decisions based on bad advice because of it, that's ultimately on him.

[1994sunflower]

heaven to you. (m.c)

pairing: michael clifford x reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst (if you squint)

word count: 8.1k

involves: bad boy!michael, college!au, jealous!michael, established relationship, a lot of cursing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink (really mild), choking, dirty talk, pain kink (slight), size kink, thigh riding, face slapping (consensual), hair pulling, spitting kink, throat fucking, impregnation kink, praise, degredation/name calling, innocence kink, virgin kink (kinda), smoking, mentions of drugs/drinking, maybe more but nothing too big just pretty filthy ngl

summary: your high school classmates come over to michael’s house in hopes of being friends with the famous bad boy on campus. this includes your one-sided high school crush that may not have been so one-sided after all. unfortunately for him, michael is not someone to piss off. fortunately for you, michael’s anger and jealousy isn’t always so bad, at least for you.

part two

+

“Tell me again why we’re going to this guy’s house?” Justin asked his two childhood friends. At least, they were up until high school. Now, as they went to different colleges, they felt more like strangers. But that was part of the reason he took the multi-state trip down to their university: to mend that rift.

“We’ve been telling you man, Michael is the man on campus to be friends with.” Chris punched one of his hands into his other palm for emphasis.

Charlie nodded beside Chris, both standing in front of their front door, ready to go. “He gets into the best parties, gets the hottest chicks and is the most feared guy on campus.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Justin raised his eyebrows.

Chris opened the door, shaking his head. “Yeah, dude. No one messes with him because he’ll beat the shit out of them.”

“He’s done it a few times already.” Charlie added.

“There’s rumors he used to be involved in a gang or something and that’s why he’s like that. Either way though, he gets whatever he wants.”

Justin’s lips curled up a bit in disgust. He came from a wealthy background, wealthy family and wealthy school. Though he never let that get to his head and he never looked down on someone because of it, this stark contrast to his normality was difficult to shrug off.

But he did as he followed both Charlie and Chris out.

Charlie was still raving about ‘Michael’ as they walked out of the cramped dorm room to the unfamiliar winding paths of their university. “I mean, imagine being friends with him. You’ll get all the benefits he gets.”

“I’m sorry, if you aren’t friends with him, how are we going to his house?” Justin trailed behind the two slightly.

Chris looked back, “Turns out his best friend is in my accounting class and he invited us over to play video games. How lucky is that?”

“Yeah, lucky.” Justin looked away. He wasn’t going to admit that as they crossed the street across the student union, the whole concept of meeting someone with a reputation as rough as this Michael character was daunting and just a bit scary. In fact, it didn’t take a genius to look at the three boys all wearing vineyard vines khakis and polos, and know they didn’t mesh well with what he supposed Michael was like.

They didn’t even mesh well with the college neighborhood they were entering. The small houses looked worn and crumbled down and the streets were even worse. The only thing that calmed his nerves was the knowledge that the scariest people on the block were tired college students.

“Have you even talked to him before?” Justin kept asking questions to calm himself down and stop himself from looking around at the neighborhood in disdain.

Charlie shrugged, “I talked to him at a party once, he didn’t say much though.”

Chris smirked, “I walked with him to class once.” He paused. “Well, I was walking with his friend, Ashton? And he joined. But it still felt cool. Everyone was staring and making way for us - well him”

They filled in all the holes in knowledge of Michael. How he never lost a fight (even though he was involved with them often - evidenced by his perpetual bloody knuckles), how he rarely went to class (and when he did, how he sat alone, always), how his fashion consisted of black, chains and more black and finally, how he would go home with a different girl every party (but how that didn’t happen anymore as he had a girlfriend, though her identity to them remained a mystery).

Justin nodded as he listened. But as more and more was added to the infamous Michael, he felt less and less inclined to meet him.

Time, however, to turn back had run out. Because as his friends turned into a rubble pathway leading up to an equally rubble house, he knew he was about to be face to face with the myth, the legend, Michael himself.

The things he would do for his friends. If he didn’t hold such a sentimental place in his heart for the boys he had grown up with, he definitely wouldn’t be there, standing in front of a (turning green) door, waiting for an answer. They were different, it was obvious in high school that they had become different types of men; he valued education, science, and was a romantic at heart while they valued alcohol, parties and were willing to screw anything they found ‘hot’.

But that didn’t deter him from valuing their friendship.

It occurred to him that the only thing his friends had failed to fill him in on was Michael’s appearance. So, when the door opened and a boy slightly shorter than even Chris, the shortest of them (though Justin was 6’5 and Charlie was 6’0 so really, Chris being 5’11 wasn’t that short) and messy brown curls covering his head and forehead, he was shocked to say the least.

But that didn’t last long as Chris dapped him. “Ashton! What’s up man?”

Ashton smiled big and nodded in acknowledgement to the rest of them. “Nothing much bro, took you a while.” But he moved back into the small house, a signal of welcome for them to come in but close the door behind them.

So, as Chris and Charlie followed Ashton in, talking about who knows what, Justin made sure to shut and lock the door before trailing behind.

The house was bigger than he pictured in his mind. The living room and kitchen were divided by only a pillar and the counter. But it was spacious enough to fit a flat screen (granted, it was on the floor) and a black winding couch (granted, it had cracks all over it). The only light came from the kitchen and the tv, which was set to the beginning of the game.

Ashton already sat down on the couch, grabbing a game controller casually from behind him. He was wearing a black t-shirt that had it’s sleeves cut off to the point where you could see his whole side torso through the giant holes. His gray jeans were equally ripped and Justin was sure his shoes would be too, if he were wearing any but just gray socks adorned his feet. He had spiked bracelets on his left wrist. Maybe this was the reason his slightly tanned, innocent face looked strange. His big eyes and friendly smile was a stark juxtaposition to the rest of his body.

Chris looked around as his large figure slumped beside Ashton, “Where’s Michael?”

Ashton didn’t look at him when he answered, “In his room with his girl. He’ll be out soon, I think. That is if they don’t start going at it.”

Charlie laughed as he sat on the other side of Ashton, picking up a controller from the ground. Justin was left to sit awkwardly on the edge of the couch, closest to the kitchen. He felt out of place, just like he suspected and it didn’t help the darkness that surrounded the room, even through the lit kitchen and blue tv screen.

He didn’t get to think much on it, though, because not a few minutes after he sat down, did the bedroom door behind the couch open up. Light streamed into the dimly lit room.

Justin stood. It was a force of habit, really. He was used to standing up whenever someone knew came into the room to introduce himself. But when no one else stood, with Ashton not even bothering to look behind him, he felt awkward. It was too late to sit back down, though.

Charlie and Chris looked back, though, with big grins. “Hey, Michael! What’s up, man?” They said as if they were close friends.

And thus, Justin came face to face with Michael himself. And this time, he looked exactly like what he expected.

Michael was towering, though his height was nearly equal to Justin’s. His shoulders so broad that they nearly filled up the entire doorway of his bedroom. His t-shirt was plain black and so were his jeans, which had three chains adorning them. Two sleeves of tattoos ran down both of his arms to his hands and fingers , one of his hands reading F U C K in big bold letters, with a few peeking out on his neck as well. His black messy hair matched him well and fell onto his forehead.

But through that intimidating appearance, none of those things were what caught Justin’s attention. No, it was Michael’s eyes that did it. Though they were light in color, somehow they still seemed dark. The coldness in them was frightening. There was no hint of warmth, of friendliness, in them. In fact, as Michael held direct eye contact, saying nothing at the still standing Justin, the aggression his eyes held was enough to make Justin take a step back.

It was that step that seemingly broke the trance Michael had put him in. Because just like that, Michael looked away and moved forward into the living room. He nodded in acknowledgement at Chris and Charlie, still silent, before shouldering past Justin to go to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottled beer, opening it with his bare hand on his way back.

Justin was going to sit back himself as he saw Michael head to the couch but was stopped by a second, much smaller figure exiting Michael’s room.

The girl was petite, especially compared to Michael, standing at a proud 5’1. Her straight black hair was parted down the middle and hung perfectly over her shoulders. She wore a dainty white sunflower dress that contrasted beautifully with her olive skin which made her, along with her kind smile and bright brown eyes, look like the epitome of innocence. Quite the distinction from Michael who seemed to personify danger.

She was beautiful.

And she was his good friend.

“Y/N?”

+

Your legs were stationed at each side of Michael’s torso as you straddled him. Your hands were cupping his face and while one of his hands was on your ass while the other was gripping your long hair, pulling just enough for it to be pleasurable.

Your mouths melded into each others deeply and you couldn’t tell which one of you were more desperate for the other. You’d been making out for a while and your body was on fire. You felt like his touch was both burning you and exactly what needed at the same time.

It only took one slow grind of your hips against his that did it for him. He flipped you over so that you landed directly on one of his thighs, the chains of his jeans rattling in the process. His body was flush to yours, you could feel his hardness against you.

You looked up at him with wide innocent eyes, just how you knew he liked it. And you were awarded with a deep groan and a taunting smile before his lips returned to your body, this time to your neck. You moved your head to give him more access and as he got more into it, sucking and biting, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped. You knew he was going to leave a mark (probably many) because he liked to have something that claimed you as his.

One of his hands wandered to your lower body, traveling under your flimsy dress to flip it over. He gave your ass a swat to command you to move. He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your hips starts moving, slowly at first against his jean-clad thigh. But as the pleasure started to build up at the friction, you began moving faster, desperately, moaning loudly.

Michael watched you silently, a smirk on his face. The only touch was his hands on your hips, guiding your pace and your movements. Otherwise, he just watched you get off on him.

“Did you wear this dress for me?” You nodded desperately against him, wanting nothing more than push against his finger but knew better.

His hand pulled your hair harshly, hard enough that it hurt but that just made you moan louder. “I asked you a question.” He growled, he had begun to move his leg up and down, making everything that much pleasurable.

Fuck. “Y-Yes, all for you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Was all he said before his lips claimed yours again. His kisses were fervent as he bit and sucked on your bottom lip. Your hips were still moving violently against his thigh and you could feel your climax start to build up. It was almost too hot for you to handle. But you could tell he was going to give you what you wanted soon.

Or he was. A loud banging came from his bedroom door across the room. “They’re here!” Ashton’s voice rang to you from behind the door.  

You sighed deeply as you pulled away from Michael and away from your release. Michael groaned and fell, face first, into the mattress. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Maybe later.” You giggled, pushing him up to lay on his back. He looked up at you and a mischievous smile, the one you had grown to love, adorned his face.

“Or we can continue.” His hand was already reaching to your wrist to pull you up to straddle him again but you held back, shaking your head.

“Mikey, you have guests.” But still, you leaned over and pecked his lips quickly.

Michael groaned again, this time out of annoyance. “Fuck them. I don’t even know who they are, they’re Ashton’s friends.”

You smiled at his attitude. Your hand was tracing his neck, following the ink lines. It was a vulnerable position he was in, and something he only ever allowed you to do. When he was with you, it was so easy to forget how different he was with other people. How mean he could be. It was almost comical to see the difference in how he was right then to what he was just a few minutes ago.

“Be nice.” You chastised. “They’re here for you too, don’t bother trying to kid yourself.”

You heard Michael whine, “Come on, baby girl.” He took a hold of your wrist again. As he pushed himself up to a sitting position, he easily towered over you and he used that to his advantage. Pushing you against the wall next to his bed, he cupped one of your cheeks. His hand took up much of that side of your face, “Let me get you off.” His voice was deep with want.

You’d be a liar if you said that you weren’t wet. The way he was looking at you, the way you felt so small in front of him, you wanted to let him do whatever he wanted with you. But as you heard the front door close, you couldn’t. Not only would it be embarrassing because you were never quiet, Michael made sure of that, but it would be impolite.

Michael would never admit it but you both knew the guests were here for him. He was somewhat of a legend throughout the campus, especially among frat boys and wannabes. No matter your disdain for people like that, they came all this way for him.

So you pushed against his chest just slightly, knowing that would be enough for Michael to let you go. And when he sighed and moved away, you got up from his bed and moved to where there was a mirror hanging next to his closet. Your hair was a mess and so was your makeup. You looked fucked out and you were in awe for a moment at how Michael managed to make you this way with just a make out session and a dry hump.

Fixing yourself, you couldn’t help but smile at the pouting boy, still cross armed on his bed. Turning to him, you motioned for him to get up. “Come on Mikey.”

He stood and immediately, you had to crane your neck to look up at his big height. Even his shoulders engulfed your entire figure. Michael knew what he did to you so it wasn’t much a surprise when you felt one of his hands wrap themselves around your neck, the one with his bruised knuckles, but not hard. “After this, you’re mine.”

You think your smile was enough to tell him how excited you were at that prospect.

Michael gave you a weak smile. He didn’t tend to smile much, even when it was just the two of you. In fact, except the fact that he was a lot chattier and warmer with you, he was still always in his head and rarely expressed much emotion outside of bed besides anger, horniness and the rare affection. But you were okay with that. Your emotions were enough for the two of us.

He gave you peck on the lips, “I’ll see you out there.”

You nodded up at him, smiling before going back to fixing your makeup and adjusting your dress. Ashton had a couple of friends over ever now and then. Most, if not all, coming to see Michael. Though, you tried to not be there whenever they came over, Michael seemed to prefer it for you to be with him. To give him something to actually look forward to. He hated meeting new people and he hated their interest in him. He was popular without wanting to be. So you were often there to remedy that and you became the center of his world in those moments. Though, really, that was how you were most of the time you were with him.

Only a few minutes passed after he left the room that you followed him out.

But as soon as you left the room, you stopped when you saw someone standing in the living room, looking at you. In that same instance, you recognized him. Justin. A good friend from high school and an even better human being.

As your name left his mouth you grinned, coming closer to hug him. It had been so long, years, actually. The last you saw him was at your graduation when you swore you’d miss him. And you had. After all, he was the boy that plagued your heart all throughout high school - not that he’d known.

“Justin!” The hug was quick and you had to get on your tip toes to do it. You could tell he was just as surprised to see you. He was smiling wide and his eyebrows were shot high like they did whenever he was interested in something.

But just as soon as you pulled away, the weirdness of the situation seeped in, “What are you doing here?”

Justin blinked as if he, too, just became aware of the weird circumstance you were meeting in. “I, uh” He scratched the back of his head, unsure of how to answer and gestured to the couch. “I came with Chris and Charlie.”

Your brows furrowed further as you glanced at the couch where, sure enough, your high school classmates sat, looking back at you. They waved, slightly confused. You tried to ignore the fact that even Ashton had torn his eyes away from the tv to stare at you two. Which, considering how hard it was to take Ashton away from his video games, was saying something.

All you could think was that you wanted to crawl into a hole. The boys that you always said peaked in high school and made you so upset when they transferred to your university were now at your boyfriend’s house, trying to be his friends. It was truly a worst case scenario.

Excluding Justin. It’d been so long since you saw him, it felt nice to be in his presence again. You appreciated him as a person and the kindness he radiated - even to you, someone so much lower in economic status than him.

“But I thought you went to Washington?” You fiddled with one of your bracelets as you spoke.

Justin nodded, stiffly. “I do, we’re just on Spring Break a few weeks before you so I thought I’d visit.”

You smiled, “You should’ve gotten in touch!”

You think the situation had gotten a hold of him because while he otherwise would be rambling on with questions and stories, Justin had gotten quiet. “But why are you here?”

You blinked. Now you felt uncomfortable. It was as if you finally noticed everyone’s eyes on you, including Michael’s glaring ones. Yeah, this is definitely the last time you were going to be there when someone else was coming over.

Ashton turned back to the tv and scoffed, “Please, she practically lives here.”

Your nose crinkled when you smiled and made your way to Michael, who had taken a seat and motioned you into his lap. You shrugged, looking at your high school classmates. “This is my boyfriend’s house.”

Justin sat down slowly, his eyes just as wide as Chris and Charlie’s. Most people on campus knew you were Michael’s girlfriend. So the shocked reaction had been diminishing. You were almost starting to become used to not seeing it.

Almost.

You don’t really blame them. You are very different. Michael is aggressive, angry and cold while you tended to be bubbly, shy and school-oriented. But that’s what you liked about each other. You just fit so well together. Opposites attract, right?

Ashton spoke up again, knowing Michael would likely not talk the entire reunion if he could help it. “How do you know each other?”

You took one of Michael’s hands in yours, your hand looking almost minature in his large one, and traced the tattoos you loved so much, “We went to high school together.”

Ashton nodded, “Oh the private one?”

Charlie nodded, glancing at Michael before looking at you, “I didn’t know you were dating Michael Clifford.”

You smiled weakly, we’re not friends, that’s why you didn’t know is what you wanted to say.

Michael took a chug of the glass bottled beer in his hands. It was like a silent signal because after, the three boys began playing their game.

You made a grab for the beer but Michael moved it out of your reach, his free hand slapping the side of your thigh in warning.

Your eyes widened. “Michael!” You hissed under your breath. Not in front of everyone. But he just stared at you, unsmiling. The only hint of humor came from his twinkling eyes.

He didn’t like you trying anything he was into: drugs, cigarettes, weed, alcohol. It was all off limits to you and he made sure everyone knew it. It was his way to preserve your innocence, even if dating him made that seem sort of like a paradox. Sometimes, though, it was fun to mess with him even if you were never interested in actually experimenting with the things he did.

“So, Michael…” You were brought out of your own little world by Charlie. “Are you going to Epsilon’s party tonight?”

“No.” Came Michael’s curt reply, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your arm.

Ashton was the one who saved the moment (and Charlie’s feelings) by filling in Michael’s blanks. You think that’s why they were such good friends. “Michael hates parties. He’d rather be here with Y/N and do it like bunnies.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to die or if you wanted to kill Ashton. Maybe both.

Because as soon as those words left his mouth to your high school classmates - and high school crush - you felt your face heat up. You didn’t have to look to know that Michael was smirking.

You saw Justin blush and look away and for a moment, you felt worse. There was something about feeling completely humiliated in front of someone you hold at such a high regard that does that to you.

Ashton and Chris both exclaimed at something on the tv at the same time your phone chimed. You unlocked it to read the text.

kelly (stats)

hey girl! are you on campus? i’m at the library and wanted to see if you wanted to work on the project.

The project. It was due in a few weeks and while you had finished your portion, the rest of it was definitely not done. You sighed, knowing you’d have to go and lose the rest of your day with Michael.

You felt Michael shift under you, moving up from his slouched position to be able to read your text fully. He kissed your shoulder when he did.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered to which he nodded. You got up from his lap and moved to the kitchen, moving to call Kelly and sort out the details.

“Hello?”

+

Justin’s eyes followed your movements as you left to the kitchen, though certainly not missing the way Michael’s hollow eyes watched his every move. Michael, sitting slouched, didn’t even stop staring when he took a chug of his beer, the red of his healing bloody knuckles on full display.

Justin definitely understood what made Michael so scary on campus. What he couldn’t understand is why Y/N was with him. Sweet, innocent Y/N. Had you changed so much in three years that this is who you would fall for?

He could feel Michael radiate hostility but Michael remained quiet, simply choosing to observe Justin, which somehow seemed more terrifying.

When you came back into the room, Justin actively tried not to watch you. He kept his eyes on the tv with his only glimpse of you being your bottom half as you walked by him, your dress falling to just below your mid thigh. He couldn’t help but listen to his friend’s chiming voice as you spoke in a lower tone.

“I’m going to go to the library to finish up a project.” He couldn’t hear what Michael answered, if he even answered. But he heard you continue. “No, I might just walk. It’s still light out. I’ll call you when I’m heading back.”

Then, as if the afternoon didn’t already feel surreal enough, he saw you out of the corner of his eye, bend down and plant a kiss to Michael’s lips, one of your hands were on his abdomen, holding you up. It almost felt jarring to witness. Not only to see Michael allowing such a thing but to see the girl that had taken up much of his mind, and heart, in high school willingly put herself in that position with a man like Michael. It had taken him a while this afternoon just to put the pieces together and understand that Y/N was Michael’s girlfriend but to see it laid out in front of him was disturbing nonetheless.

When you straightened up again, you regarded the boys in front of you with the kind smile Justin knew so well. “I’m heading out, nice to see you guys again.” Though you didn’t really sound like you meant it.

Justin didn’t think his next actions through. All he was thinking was that it was an out. An out to leave this house that made him so uncomfortable and an out to not be in the same room as Michael without you to mend the tension.

So he stood up without much thought, “I’ll head out with you.” And as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back immediately. They came out wrong. He knew it and so did everyone else in the room, evidenced by the pausing of the video game and the multiple set of eyes on him.

You blinked up at him, processing what he said for a moment before he quickly added, “I mean, I left my phone back at Chris’ room so I was going to leave anyway. I was just thinking I’d give you some company.” That didn’t sound any better either.

But he trudged through the awkwardness of his phrasing by refusing to look at Michael. Justin had a feeling that would make everything a million times worse.

But you didn’t fail him, “Oh, sure.” You smiled warmly, looking back at Michael quickly before moving towards Justin and the door, “We can catch up on the way.”

Chris and Charlie were looking at him with wide eyes as he left, likely cursing him out in their heads for messing up any chance they had at being Michael’s friends. But as he followed his friend back out to the open world, outside of the dark and cramped house, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

+

You looked up at the tall blond boy beside you as you walked down the sidewalk that would lead back to campus. You were still in awe that he was there beside you, walking and talking to you after so long. Well, not so much talking. You think he was still up in his head about the situation.

“So did you really leave something in Chris’ dorm room?” You smiled knowingly up at him.

To which he let out a chuckle and lowered his head sheepishly, “No, I…I just had to get out of there.”

You nodded like you understood, which you did. You talked a lot when we were in high school and you knew his limits, what he was used to. “Yeah, I know that house can be a lot for some people.”

“It’s just cramped.”

You didn’t say it but that kind of bothered you. It wasn’t a mansion and while it wasn’t exactly nice, it was cozy and it felt like home. Michael made it feel like home. But you knew Justin couldn’t see it that way. He was the richest boy in high school, after all. And popular because of it. Though, looking back, you couldn’t think of a time where he had let that get to his head.

“So, you and Michael, huh?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his khakis and looked over at you. His blue eyes clouding with worry.

Now, it was your turn to chuckle. “Yeah. It’s okay, a lot of people have the same reaction.”

“It’s just different, I guess. Have you heard his reputation at all?”

You got on the bus that would lead straight to the middle of campus at that point and found two seats right next to each other.

You nodded, “I guess. But Michael…Michael’s different from what you think. He can be sweet. You just have to get to know him.” You tried to tame the big loving smile that was threatening to explode at the thought of Michael, the version of him that you knew. You were well aware of how vicious and even cruel he could be, gaining him the rumors that constantly swirled around him and now even you. But he wasn’t like that with you.

“I heard he’s in a gang.” Justin whispered.

Your eyes shot up at him in alarm, “Of course he’s not.” Unfounded rumors like that did bother you, they whittled down all of Michael’s past struggles to be theatrical entertainment for those looking in, not to mentioned demonized him even further for no reason. Though they never really bothered Michael, you had too much respect both for him and for yourself to be okay with them.

“I just don’t think I expected him to be your type.” He explained, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Well he wasn’t, not at first.” You calmed down and instead bit your inner cheek, trying to decide whether you should let him in on your little secret. “Actually, you were my type. I had a huge crush on you in high school…”

“What?-”

“…Don’t worry, I’m over it now.” you quickly added in when you I felt him freeze behind you in surprise. It was embarrassing but it didn’t make much sense keeping it from him anymore.

“I had no idea.” His voice dripped with honesty. He pulled at the collar of his polo shirt.

You shrugged, “I made sure of that. I don’t know, you were just so nice to me even though you were so out of my league. You were rich, popular but so respectful and socially aware. Plus you weren’t a republican.” You laughed before looking down, “And I was the shy scholarship kid.”

It was obvious Justin was trying to think of what to say so you helped him out, “But you know three years of college really changes you. I’m a lot more outspoken now and I found a great boyfriend.”

Justin nodded, still seemingly shocked, “That’s great.” His voice was soft and, as you made eye contact, there was something more in his eyes that you couldn’t read.

But you didn’t have to think of it much because you got to our destination and you both made your way off the bus, onto the campus you loved so much.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around?” You were already moving back slowly, desperate to get to the library quickly so you could head back to Michael faster.

Justin nodded, not moving to go to the dorms, “Yeah, I’ll be here for two weeks or so.”

+

You practically skipping when you reached Michael’s house again. The sun had set and part of you were upset at how long it had taken you in the library. But as you opened the door to Michael’s room and saw him laying on his bed, headphones on and wearing a black hoodie with only the tattoos on his hands peeking out, those feelings disappeared and were replaced with much more primal feelings.

Michael, slipping off his headphones gently, seemed to mirror your feelings because just a bending of his index finger in a ‘come here’ motion, was enough to have you closing the door behind you and nearly jumping onto him.

You were smiling but asked before anything else, “Ashton-?” You always felt bad he had to deal with you constantly at each other with only thin walls separating Michael’s room from his.

“He went to that frat party.” Michael muttered, uninterested. His eyes were instead trailing your body, figuring out which way was best to take off your dress.

You were on all fours as you crawled your way to him, stopping when you were in between his spread legs. “You should’ve gone.” Even if you didn’t love parties, they were still a big part of who he was, before dating you he would be at them drinking the night away every other day, and a part of you felt bad for taking them away from him, even if unintentionally.

But still, he couldn’t look like he care less when he reached over and pulled your dress up to uncover your ass, his hands trailing down the curve of you sensually before giving you a small spank that made you jump in surprise. “I have better things to do.”

Now that deserved a reward. Your hand rubbed over the noticeable bulge in his jeans. Michael’s hands undid his belt, the sight of that action almost making you want to moan right then and there. Your hands trailed up to undo the button and zipper. He eagerly pushed his hips up to help you take his jeans and boxers off.

His long and thick length stood out horizontally and you felt your mouth watering already at the thought of taking him in your mouth.

One of his hands took a hold of the gold necklace you were wearing, twisting it and pulling at it to force your face closer to his.“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” 

When you first started having sex, you were shy and inexperienced. Words and talk like that would have had you shaking nervously. And while you would still likely react that way in public, with enough time with Michael and in the privacy of his room, you didn’t even blink when you answered.

“Always.” Your hand wrapped around him before you took his dick into your mouth. Michael groaned immediately and threw his head back, eyes closed. This only proved to spur you on. You took him as deep as you could, stopping only when his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag and pull back.

But the vibrations only seemed to have him moaning louder and led to one of his hands to collect your hair and push himself back into your mouth. “Fuck that’s good, take it.”

You didn’t even notice when he had taken off his shirt and hoodie. His tattoos, which ranged from his fingers to his entire torso and neck were on full display and you felt yourself get wetter at the intricate ink that adorned his beautiful body. It was a contrast to your body that was completely bare of any tattoos.

Up until then, he was still controlled. When you looked up at him with the innocent eyes you knew drove him wild and moan against his length as you bobbed your head, his control snapped. There was something about you looking pure, especially in that angelic-looking white dress, at the same time you were doing something so dirty with him that sent him ablaze. Even more knowing that you were only like that for him.

Immediately, he tightened his grip on your hair with both hands, holding you in place. He thrust up into your mouth at a fast pace, fucking your mouth harshly. His groans increasing in volume. He thrust into your mouth deeply, your nose nearly touching his stomach, and kept himself there. Your throat closed tightly against him.

“Do you like that?” Your jaw hurt and you felt tears in your eyes as he pulled out enough for you to breath, his cock was messy with your spit. Then he continued, thrusting into your awaiting mouth and murmuring dirty nothings under his breath. You wanted to trail your hands down to your pussy to soothe the ache it had for him but you refrained. “Do you like me using your mouth like a dirty fucking slut?”

You moaned involuntarily. You needed him. You could feel yourself soaking through your panties. Michael gave a sharp tug at your hair and pulled you off of him. He tilted your head back painfully to lock his eyes with yours.

“Do you like being used like a toy?” His voice was cold and mean but it was a turn on. You nodded your head submissively and one of his hands reached down to your cheek, giving you a sharp slap. Enough for you to feel the sting and enough for it to feel good. “Open your mouth.”

You did what he said immediately. Your tongue poking out in anticipation. Michael leaned down before spitting into your mouth. You closed your eyes, moaning when you felt another slap at your cheek.

“Dirty whore.” Michael muttered under his breath before pinning you down to his bed, tearing your dress off as soon as hit the mattress and then doing the same to your bra and underwear.

Part of you wondered what had gotten into him. Being rough and kinky in bed isn’t something out of the ordinary for you two but he usually wasn’t like this out of no where. Not that you were complaining.

On all fours, you swayed your ass to him enticingly and looked behind you with a virginal smile, “Fuck me, daddy.” You said innocently.

He didn’t say anything as he flipped you over quickly and ran the head of his dick teasingly along your entrance, slapping it onto your pussy twice. A load moan of his name left your mouth when he finally entered you. He wasted no time in thrusting at a rough pace into you. Your moans were cut off and stuttered at the pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” One of Michael’s hands reached up to your throat and pressed tightly. The feeling of his inked hands around your throat amplified the pleasure. Your walls clenched around him. “No matter how many times I fuck you"

You saw his eyes be fixated on your breasts, the way they bounced up and down fully in pace with each of his thrusts. He leaned down and wrapped his warm mouth around one of tits, flicking and twirling his tongue around your nipple.

Your eyes closed involuntarily and your back arched in pleasure as he continued to slam his hips into yours. The only sounds in the room were the sound of skin slapping, your moans and his grunts.

“If only those boys could see you now, their innocent little classmate, so submissive and desperate for my cock, letting me fuck you like my bitch.” Michael’s voice was taunting and you could barely get your mind out of the haze of pleasure to question what he was talking about.

“But they’ll never see you like this. This is the only cock you’ll ever get, your first and your last. No one will ever be able to please you like I can. Do you think that blondie can make you feel this good?” You closed your eyes in pleasure, too far lost to even understand what he was saying, just shaking your head in answer. You were blushing like crazy at his words, which only served to make him thrust faster.

“Look at me.” He hissed and you did just when his thrusts’ vigor increased even more which left you whimpering and writhing underneath him. But still, you opened and kept your eyes on him, your mouth open as moans filtered out of you. “Tell me you’re mine.”  

Though your mouth was open, you couldn’t formulate words. But Michael’s hands on your throat pressed harder and his other hand slapped your cheek as a warning, “Tell me.”

“Y-Yours. I’m yours, Mikey. Only yours.” His mouth was on yours in a heated kiss while his pace never faltered as he pistoned in and out of you.

“That’s right.” Michael praised, “Mine.” Then he said something he had never said before. “I’m going to knock you up, get you nice and pregnant. Everyone would know then, that you’re fucking mine.” He almost sounded delirious with the prospect.

He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t mean it. Even if he did, you were on birth control. But you moaned loader just at the thought of his love for you reaching those lengths.

“You want that, little one? Want me to fill your tight little cunt with my cum?”

A chorus of “Yes, yes, yes” left your mouth, you couldn’t speak anymore than just repeating that. The thought of being pregnant with his child and the reminder of just how small you were compared to him was enough to put you on another planet.

“H-Harder.” You were shaking as he complied with your request, his thrusts moving faster and rougher into you. Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso and scratched at his back, desperate for a way to express the nearly overwhelming pleasure you felt. He hissed in pleasure at the pain, his body above you engulfed nearly your entire figure.

“Open” His rough voice commanded and you opened your mouth obediently. Moaning again as he spit into your awaiting tongue once again.

Your throat was starting to be raw with your screaming and begging to come. “Cum for me, princess.”

You clenched your walls as you came around his big cock and that seemed to be the only thing that took for him to release after you.

He released inside you, filling you and leaking out after he pulled out. “Such a good girl.”

He was still coming when he pulled out and ribbons of cum adorned your face, which you graciously accepted. Michael watched your face and groaned to himself when you licked some of his cum off that was at the corner of your mouth and swallowed.

His eyes were closed in pleasure for a moment before he released his grip on your throat. You didn’t doubt the image before of you, blushing and covered in his cum did wonders for his libido.  

He cleaned you up but you had a feeling it was just an excuse to be able to give you a passionate kiss. “You did great, baby girl. I love you.”

His praise made your heart swell. “I love you, too.”

Before you knew it, your kiss had gotten much more frenzied and his hand was trailing to your sore entrance. But you stopped before it could lead to a round two.

“I’m sore.” You mumbled before nuzzling into chest. His arms wrapped around your body protectively and kissed the top of your head, gently, so different from how rough he was just a few moments before.  

You looked up at him quizzically just to see that he was already looking at you. “So, are you going to tell me what that was about?”

Michael looked genuinely confused, “What do you mean?”

You rolled your eyes, moving up so you were at eye level with him. You ran your fingers through his soft black hair, noting how his eyes fluttered at the sensation. “You know what I mean. What wound you up so bad?”

“Nothing” But at your pointed look, he sighed in defeat and muttered, “Those little rich boys. The tall one, he’s into you and I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You sputtered, “Justin?! No way is he into me.” You shook your head, giggling as you leaned back to lay your head on his shoulder. “Actually, in high school, I was the one into him.”

You probably shouldn’t have said that. You knew it as soon as Michael’s eyes hardened and his body stiffened. “What?”

Shaking your head, you stuttered out, “But I got over that years ago, he’s just a friend.”

But Michael couldn’t let it go, “You liked him and he was in my fucking house? He left with you for fucks sakes Y/N.” He moved as if he was getting up and you placed a hand on his chest to stop him (only doing so because he let you, otherwise his strength would quickly overpower yours). If he were to go after Justin, there would be little you could do to stop him from beating him to a pulp.

You kissed him deeply to calm him down because you saw his eyes start to shut down. They started to look like the same eyes he had in public, the cold, angry ones. And you couldn’t let him go there, not with you.

“We were only with each other for a few minutes, we took the bus.” You reasoned with him.

Michael locked his jaw tightly but he was starting to calm down, “That bitch ass couldn’t even look at me but I was watching him. He kept looking at you like he knew you, like he knew you how I know you.”

He looked at you then, with a mocking smirk. “Like he knew how sweet and moral you are and that you shouldn’t be with your big bad boyfriend. Too bad he didn’t see you begging to have your mouth and pussy filled by your mean boyfriend’s cock. Or that he didn’t know I was the one that took your virginity,” He moaned at the memory, “What do you think he would say if he saw innocent little Y/N like that?”

You didn’t have to be looking at him to see the delight in his bright eyes and sneering smile. It was obvious he enjoyed corrupting you.

You whined at his words, embarrassed, as if you didn’t hear much worse things come out of his mouth when you were underneath him or even when he was in fights with others.

“Are you sure Ashton isn’t home?” You changed the topic.

“He’s out.” Michael repeated, “Why, did you want him to join?”

He was teasing you, you knew he was but you whined again, blushing (something you knew he loved) and shook your head no.

He chuckled, a warm and joking chuckle, “Good, because I’m not sharing you. Remember that.”

Michael settled you in between his legs comfortably, giving you his phone to busy yourself with games or take photos. He kissed the top of your head, that reached just to his chin. Meanwhile, he grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from his nightstand, placing the white stick in his mouth and lighting it. The scent overtook your senses uncomfortably. But you were used to it so you didn’t do much besides raising your hand jokingly, to ask for a puff.

But Michael, who never took those things as a joke, squeezed your thigh. “I don’t want you getting into the shit I’m into.” He said, “I want to keep you pure for me.”

Because as much as he loved corrupting you, he loved your innocence even more.

+

so i think i’m going to make this into a two part series with each part having two stories involved. if that makes sense, let me know what you think!

[barbers-glimmerin-darlin]

At The Touch Of Your Hand

Charlie Barber x (Female) Reader (Historical AU)

As a young woman whose entire life has already been mapped out for her, you believed there was very little to look forward to as you entered the ballroom. It was just another ball, during another season, with the same foppish men shallowly vying for attention. However things are bound to take a turn for the unexpected when Charles Barber makes his re-entrance to society after six years in obscurity.

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 

Warnings: Period typical sexism, historical inaccuracies 

Word count: 2.9k

“I’ll not be listening to any more of your incessant griping tonight Judith.” Your father’s voice was firm and unwavering, his distaste for his wife’s unending list of complaints evidently getting the better of him. 

“You cannot possibly think him to be an agreeable man Edward! Not after he-”

“Enough Judith!”

Your mother’s mouth bubbled open and closed as if she were impersonating some incredibly affronted fish, it was very rare that father would plainly tell mama he had tired of listening to her whining. You swapped a furtive glance with Jemima, the tension spiking to a palpable degree, your mind instantly began scrambling to fill in the gaping hole left in your mothers remark.

After he what? What could he have done, this enigmatic man, whom you had never heard of before this night, to have warranted such obvious distaste from your mother? You could not help but feel that whatever it was should be much cause for concern, if it meant that your mother was unwilling to host him. Judith Bell would usually be seen falling over herself for the opportunity to have such a man welcomed to dinner, an impressive man, titled. 

Before your racing mind had the chance to create a whole plethora of beastly scenarios to cast this man in, along came one of the very few things in the world that made you want to disable all intelligent brain function in your mind.

Hartley. 

You regrettably saw him approach you over your father’s shoulder, straightening his gloves and smoothing his flaccid hair as he neared. Every last cell in your body heaved a long groan at the sight of him, so bland, so thoroughly unimpressive, truly he was an unremarkable sight to behold. In no time at all, he stood proudly before you.

“Miss Bell, I believe the first waltz is almost afoot.” He declared. You saw your mother’s previously enraged face fracture into an unbearably bright beam at his appearance, all distaste for Lord Barber’s presence seemingly forgotten. 

You flashed a tight smile as he held out his gloved hand for you to take. You accepted, placing your hand in his with the lightest tough you could manage, as if placing your hand solidly within his pudgy one would solidify your future with him. Unfortunately you feared that there was very little you could do to escape that. 

He led you briskly onto the dancefloor, amongst the sea of brightly coloured silk taffeta frocks, and then proceeded to draw you into a hold appropriate for a waltz. It was far too intimate for you, even though his hands were in no danger of straying, you would have much preferred a livelier jig that required much changing of partners. 

As the rhythmic arrangement of the waltz began to fill the room, you willed your feet to move in a reasonably graceful fashion, it’s not that you were a bad dancer, you were just much better when paired with a partner you actually wanted to dance with. Robert was a long way from fitting that criteria. 

You could not help but note the hotness of his hand upon your shoulder, and you guessed it would probably be sweaty if he were to take that glove off, you repressed a shudder at the thought of his slimy hand upon your skin. Sweaty hands were indicative of nerves, what on earth could he be nervous about? If he could not struggle his way through a meagre waltz without being overcome with nerves, what chance did he have of upholding one end of a fiery debate, or withstand a passionate feeling about anything?

You allowed your eyes and mind to wander as you twirled about the dancefloor, you spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd, many of your mother’s acquaintances gathered to watch their own daughters on the dancefloor, your mother was no exception. She watched you with beady eyes, looking for mistakes in your footing or your posture, clutching her dainty glass of sherry in her clawed fingers. 

You were vaguely aware of Robert droning on about a business venture his father was allowing him to head, something pertaining a new weaving technique for linen, you really did not care to give much attention to it, you occasionally emitted a noise of agreement to create the illusion of engagement. 

As you rounded the dancefloor once again, your eyes swept over a broad form that was becoming undeniably familiar all too quickly. Charles stood a little way back from the dancefloor, conversing with a stout man who you recognised as the host of the ball, Lord Harrington. Although upon closer inspection, you were forced to reconsider your observation that he was participating in conversation. It appeared that he was being talked at rather than talked to, his attention otherwise much diverted, much like yours. His glittering eyes were very much fixed on the couples dancing before him.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes were not travelling aimlessly amongst the group of merry dancers, his gaze was solely tracking you. He watched as the buttery yellow light shimmered upon the lavender fabric of your gown, sparkled through your hair, and highlighted the barely exposed curve of your shoulders. He drank this in all without your knowledge, your attention far too occupied with ensuring Hartley did not step on your silk slippered feet. What an enchanting little creature he saw twirling before him. 

“Did I see Lord Barber making conversation with your father earlier?” You were forced to tune back into Hartley’s voice as he spoke directly to you, stopping your eyes from repeatedly searching out the towering height of Barber,

“Yes, I believe he knows my father.” You replied flatly, not really eager to discuss the man with Robert. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, Charles had begun to feel rather sacred to you. 

“I’m interested in making his acquaintance myself while he’s in town, quite the recluse he’s been for the past five years or so from what I understand.” Robert remarked, this did admittedly capture your interest. Why would a man like him have hidden himself away from society, other than the obvious fact that it was a dreadful environment, it was practically created for powerful men like him. 

“I confess I was unaware of his existence until tonight.” You offered blandly, while you were tempted to probe Hartley for more information, you found his predisposition for gossiping more repellent that intriguing. 

“People don’t talk about him much anymore. Though what I have heard them say is undoubtedly interesting, I’m sure his reappearance tonight will be the talk of the town by tomorrow breakfast.” Robert’s sentence was punctuated by a ridiculously salacious chuckle at the end, which made you long to put more distance between your bodies. 

“Undoubtedly, people do little else but talk the day after a ball.” You deadpanned, avoiding eye contact with his misty eyes. 

“Although I dare say there ought to be rather a lot of talk of just how ravishing you look in this gown.” Your stomach dropped at his words, spoken in a voice that he had forced down into a lower octave. You flicked your eyes up to his, only to find him inconspicuously allowing himself a good look at your chest. You swallowed back the tart response that your brain formulated, much in favour of finishing the dance as quickly as possible. You settled on a lifeless little laugh.

As soon as the band began to cease their performance you delicately pushed yourself out of his hold, and lowered into a quick curtsy. 

“Thank you for the dance Mr Hartley, it was quite… satisfactory.” And without waiting for his response you turned on your heel and began to hasten away, in search of Jemima. You were eager to tell her in agonising detail how utterly lecherous he had been. But you didn’t even make it off of the dancefloor before a broad chest blocked your path. Your eyes were obscured by a wall of icy blue and white, and you didn’t even really need to glance upwards to confirm the identity of the individual. 

The scent of fresh mint and fragrant pine greeted your senses, cleansing them of the heavy musky smell, with an undercurrent of body odour that you had endured with Hartley moments before. You refrained from indulging in a deep inhale as you summoned the courage to raise your eyes towards his face. 

Charles Barber’s smirking face.

“In a rush, Miss Bell?” He asked, his honeyed voice vibrated through the air, breathing against your ears like a summer wind. You momentarily forgot every word you had learned since infancy, and struggled for a response. 

“No I- I mean yes I was just- I’m not in a rush per say I just-”

“Were making a fleeting exit from your partner over there?” He stopped your aimless flailing with his words, allowing his full lips to quirk even further into an amused smirk. You felt your cheeks warming rapidly.

“I was just in search of my sister.” You replied, unsure if it was proper to admit that you were, in fact, shamelessly fleeing Hartley. 

“Well, by the looks of things, he will presently approach and ask you for another dance. Allow me to be so bold as to assume that you would like to avoid such an occurrence.” Charles remarked, quickly glancing over your head to where you assumed he could see Robert.

“I would be reluctant to dance with him again so soon.” You said quietly, unsure of his next assumption. 

“Well in that case, would you do me the honour of the next dance, Miss Bell?” Your heart gave itself to flittering beats as you absorbed his words. You could hardly fathom the idea of sharing a dining table with him, and you were being offered a dance? The pristine white glove upon his expansive hand moved into your line of sight as he offered his hand to you. You could not help but raise your eyes to his, though you promptly wish you hadn’t when you were met with the scorching intensity of his gaze. It was fight or flight really. 

“Yes my lord, I would be honoured.” You replied, placing your hand firmly in his. 

The experience of being led into a dance by Charles Barber was worlds away from that of the artless movements of Hartley. You knew that much. 

You stood facing each other, as part of a long line of men and women standing parallel to one another along the centre of the marble floor, you could not help but notice that he was the tallest in the line by a considerable amount. Your heart was racing as you heard the shaking violin strike up the opening measures of the dance. The line of ladies ducked into graceful curtsy, directed at the men before them, and then the dance fell into an elegant sequence of turns and fleeting touches of hands. 

It was not two measures into the dance that Barber clearly felt that he was in rhythm enough to begin to talk to you as you moved around each other, and the other occupants of the dancefloor. 

“Are you enjoying the evening?” He asked as you passed close by one another, his eyes firmly fixed upon yours, paying no mind to his feet or the people around him, though his body continued to move with a grace and ease you would have thought impossible for a man of his stature. 

“Very much so, Lord and Lady Harrington do always host the most beautiful parties.” You replied politely, though it was untrue that your night had been pleasant up until this point, the unfamiliar feelings fluttering about your stomach presently were enough to erase all memory of the previous encounters from your mind.

“I agree with you wholeheartedly Miss, though I might add that I think Lord Harrington has very little to do with the festivities you see around you. I believe it is fair to say that Lady Harrington is the brains of the operation.” He concurred, his face breaking into a smile, one you might call mischievous if you were so inclined to such flirtatious words. You could not stifle the laugh that escaped at his remark towards the esteemed Lord Harrington.

“Are you well acquainted with the hosts, my lord?” You asked him, the smile laid upon your face beginning to ache slightly, though you could not for the life of you force it down. You gasped silently as your hands entwined, as he led you side by side down the line formed by the other couples, as part of your dance.

“Old friends of my late father’s.” He explained, looking sideways at you. His hand dwarfed yours, it warmed his glove in a way that was so different to the sticky heat of Hartley’s hand. You found yourself wishing that there were no gloves separating your hands from touching skin to skin. A tingling sensation began in the palm of your hand, still held in his, and worked its way to the tips of your fingers and up your arm. In that moment, you decided the touch of his hand was something quite inexplicably magical. 

“And you, Lord Barber? Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked, longing to hear the velvet of his voice again. He smiled down at you warmly, sending the tingles from your hand all over your body. 

“I am enjoying the evening far more than I anticipated, it has been pleasant to see old friends.” He started, his eyes moved swiftly once up and down the length of you, never hesitating anywhere for too long. As he met your eyes again, his smile curled into a smaller one, far more intimate, meant only for you. “It has been even lovelier making new acquaintances, which is not something I usually find myself able to say.” He tells you. 

Your mind raced to stumble through the meanings in his well measured words. Did he mean meeting you? Part of you screamed that he must mean that, why else would he have bothered to make such a point of saying it to you? A larger part reasoned that he had undoubtedly met many new people tonight, and why in this vast room full of people would he single you out as a lovely new acquaintance?

All too soon it was time for your hands to part once again, you already missed his large warm palm and it hadn’t even left yours yet. As he opened his fingers to loosen his grasp on your hand, and pulled his palm away from yours, your eyes widened as you felt the tip of his middle finger trace a burning line across your palm as he slipped his hand away from yours. A shiver shot down the length of your spine at the sensation, which you had felt so keenly despite the presence of your silk glove. 

Another glance towards his regal face showed you that his smile had faded, melted into a look of deep concentration. The chocolate of his eyes had darkened, the light sparkled in the depths of them. So many thoughts were rushing through them, but you couldn’t comprehend a single one of them, your own brain was still trying to make sense of the litany of feelings coursing through you from the mere brush of the tip of his finger along your palm. 

It was a wonder you had managed to complete the dance without bumping into a single other occupant of the dancefloor, as you had quite forgotten that you were sharing the space with anyone else at all besides him. You could scarcely remember a time before you found yourself cradled in his gaze, you could not remember what your hand had felt like before it had been encased by his. It was only the end of the melody that brought the end of the dance to your awareness, you found yourself short of breath, though you were absolutely certain it had nothing to do with the steps of the dance. 

You bowed to each other once again, as was customary, and then he went a step further by enclosing your hand in his. He lifted your slightly quaking hand up towards his face, and you held your breath as his warm lips pressed down gently upon your glove. Had you not have held your breath, you were quite certain he would have robbed you of it. The impression of his lips seemed to burn your knuckles in a delightful way, in a way that made you yearn to tear the white silk from your body and request that he press his lips to your bare skin. You couldn’t correct the way your own lips parted slightly, something which he seemed to note as his eyes roamed your face as he straightened back up to his full height, allowing your hand to fall back to your side. 

“Thank you for the dance Miss Bell, it was quite… enchanting.” He spoke softly, caressing your face with his eyes for a moment longer before inclining his head, turning, and leaving the space, your eyes were stuck to his wide shoulders as he left. You were pulled out of your little world, where you and he were the only inhabitants, by Jemima’s voice suddenly at your ear.

“Just to warn you, sister dear, mama is quite enraged.”

Tags: @millenialcatlady​ @safarigirlsp​ @mariesackler​ @direnightshade​ @sacklerscumrag​ @stumbleonmywords​ @fizzywoohoo​ @hopeamarsu​ @roanniom​ @kylobien​ (Please let me know if you would like adding or removing!)

[lombredanslaeu]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒔 | jung jaehyun.

plot: the story of jung jaehyun and the implications of his relationship with the ceo’s daughter - all the saccharine, the bitter, and the sour. word count 7405

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: curse words 

playlist: the louvre lorde | hard feelings lorde | the girl city & colour | i dont wanna be okay without you charlie bug

this isn’t proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes. feedback is highly appreciated, it motivates me to write more. <3

“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are: “It might have been.” - Kurt Vonnegut

I.

Contrary to the public belief, the daughter of one of the biggest entertainment companies in the country isn’t as snippy and snobby as the world pictures her to be. Growing up, you never failed to respect everyone, regardless of their social status. That’s why the world seemed to be in shock when a photo of you, Doyoung, and Johnny spread like wildfire all over social networking sites.

“Why are people so in shock about me being friends with you guys?” You inquired, shoving a spoon of cheesecake to your mouth.

“They’re probably wondering why the hell you’re friends with losers like us.” Johnny replied.

“Oh yeah, that’s probably it.” You agreed. Johnny faked a hurting face, causing everyone in the room to burst into small laughters and smiles.

A swing of the dorm’s door revealed three more of the boys. Mark Lee, Kim Jungwoo, and Jung Jaehyun. How do you begin with Jung Jaehyun?

Everyone fawned over the boy. Who wouldn’t? With a cherub face and charming smile, anyone would fall head over heels over Jaehyun. You blamed his looks, you blamed his voice, and you blamed Doyoung for pointing everything Jaehyun did excellently. You blamed everything else but yourself for having a stupid crush on the boy.

“Oh, I bought you guys cheesecake.” You smiled at the newcomers.

“You’re heaven-sent, Y/N!” Jungwoo exclaimed.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Jaehyun said, with that godly smile that he always wore. You smiled off the racing beats of your heart, concious that Doyoung or Johnny might notice your sudden tension.

Unbeknowsnt to you, one of them already knows. And he has a plan to accomplish.

The warm sun was normally a pleasant thing for you. However, your lack of sleep and rest the previous night was overtaking your personality today. The busy chatters of the students that walk through the premises of Seoul National University fileld your ears. It was a normal day - lectures, presentations, and countless pages to read. You’re already on your third year of college, you should have been used to this by now. Another misconception about you is that you don’t have a personal driver to drive you to and from places; heck, you don’t even own your own car yet. You don’t do it very often but you bratty side is cursing your parents for trying to make you live independently. You made a mental note to complain to them later that night.

A resounding beep from your phone made you halt your walk.

Jung Jaehyun (SM): Hey! Are you around SNU right now?

That’s weird. You thought. It was actually more new than weird. Sure, you and Jaehyun are friends but you don’t think you’ve already reached the level of texting each other all of a sudden.

You: Yeah! Do you need anything?

Jung Jaehyun: I’m actually quite lost.

Jung Jaehyun: Doyoung told me to buy something from this home depot around SNU.

Jung Jaehyun: Do you know where Rosé Palace is?

You chuckled at his sentiment. Your palms sweat by the fact that you just might see him today. You didn’t look your best at this very moment, you didn’t feel the need to fix yourself since your main plan for today was just go to school.

You: I know where that is. Where are you right now?

Jung Jaehyun: I’m here near the musuem.

After a few walks and turns, you found the poor man. He wore all black clothing, with a mask and a bucket hat probably to hide his identity.

“Hey, I’m sorry for being a bother.” He apologized.

“Oh, no! It’s okay! I was done with school anyway.” You quickly respond. “Rosé Palace is actually very near here.”

“Oh, is it?” Jaehyun spoke. “I’m sorry, I really should have just tried finding it instead of bothering you.”

“Stop, it’s really not a problem.” You assured him.

You expected the walk to the location to be awkward. After all, you and Jaehyun doesn’t talk much. He would only ever talk to you whenever someone is also in the conversation.

“Do you live around SNU?” Jaehyun asked.

“Nope,” You answered. “I live at my parent’s home. I don’t dorm here.”

“Really? Do you commute?”

“I actually do.”

“You’re not scared?”

“Not a lot of people know who I am, Jaehyun. They just see me as another tired, college girl.”

“Must be nice not having people know who you are.” His tone seemed down and almost envious.

“Hey, you should be happy people know your name.” You said. “I could probably die right now and no one would bat an eye until they find out I’m a daughter of a CEO.”

“That’s not true!” He spoke. “I’d bat an eye!”

You laughed at him. “Of course, you would.”

Jaehyun emitted a soft chuckle. You were definitely not someone he would casually walk around with. He didn’t think he was worthy of your time, anyway. But then again, you’re friends with every single of the members so you’re probably very nice. And right now, he proved that hypothesis correct. He silently thanked Doyoung for asking him to buy those set of plates for his mother’s birthday.

The next time you and Jaehyun hung out was during one of the company gatherings. According to Taeyong, “you spent so much time with Jaehyun that Doyoung and Johnny got jealous.” You never realized that yourself. One topic in a conversation led to another and before you know it, the gathering is about to end and you still haven’t spared any of the members a glance.

“Is your dad okay with you being so close with Jaehyun?” Doyoung asked.

“Why would he not be okay with that?” You answered his question with another question. “He seems to be okay with me being close friends with all of you.”

“Hmm, yeah,” Johnny trailed. “Sure, that’s the situation here.”

You only looked at him with confusion drawn all over your face.

“Do I sense some sarcasm on your tone?”

“What? Sarcasm? Fuck no!”

 II.

It was during their live online concert that Jaehyun realized. In front of them are hundred of pixelated screens, some more distorted than the others. And yet, he still saw you, he still recognized you with a blink of an eye. You’re in a small screen almost at the edge. The other members didn’t notice you, they probably didn’t even know you were attending. He saw you, amongst the landscape of faces, he saw you. That’s when he realized. Jaehyun swallowed a small smile, fearing that Yuta, who’s arm is draped over Jaehyun’s shoulder, would sense something.

This isn’t the first time he realized that he was in love you. It was probably when he kissed you for the first time and the next time, and the next time.

“You love kissing me, don’t you?” You whispered against his lips.

The two of you did not even make it to bed when you decided to lock your lips together for the nth time that night.

“I do.” He replied. “How about you?”

“I love everything that you do to me.”

The night grew feverish. The two of you still hasn’t talked about the current status of whatever relationship you both have. You act like lovers but never brought it upon yourselves to admit that you’re smitten. Maybe Jaehyun felt embarrassed that he was the first to fall in love you. He probably will never admit that soon. The fear of nothing having his feelings reciprocated was bubbling inside him. However, the answers are right in front of his eyes. You have an exam tomorrow but instead of buring your eyebrows to study, you’re here between his arms, making out with him.

He didn’t know if it was love. He doesn’t like anything else about you except for your smile, your eyes, your angelic laughter, and the way he feels whenever you’re around. He feels at peace, he feels as if his feet are in the clouds. They could disperse any moment, causing him plummet to the ground. But he has no intention of going elsewhere. If falling to rock bottom would be caused by you, he would be more than willing to experience that.

Oh yeah, I’m in love. The only thought that lingered on his mind until he saw you in person again.

“Nice job tonight, Jae.” Your honey voice immersed from the speakers of Jaehyun’s phone.

“You actually watched.”

“Of course, I would. How could I miss that?” You chuckled, awakening the annoying butterflies inside Jaehyun’s veins.

A muffled clinking of glass could be heard through Jaehyun’s end. “Are you guys drinking?”

“Perhaps?” Jaehyun smiled through his response. Johnny and Taeyong’s loud bickering confirmed your suspicion.

“Celebrating the concert?”

“We’re not drinking.”

“Okay, I believe you.” It was your turn to smile at his silliness.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two. You could hear the faint breathing of Jaehyun and for a minute, you might have believed he fell asleep on you. A soft giggle proved you wrong. Just the mere fact of having you on the other side of the line was enough to make Jaehyun turn soft.

There was a loud argument inside his head. His job is unforgiving especially in terms of forming a romantic relationship with someone. If making friendships with others idols would be a walk on broken glass, what more could a romantic relationship be? The fact that you’re also the daughter of his boss didn’t help with his dilemma at all. It could either break his career or your relationship with your father. Jaehyun isn’t afraid of taking risk, yet somehow, he was scared of making another step towards you. When he realized that he was helplessly in love with you, he became scared of ever seeing you again. But despite it all, he still managed to say the worst thing he could have told you that night: “I’m in love with you.”

 III.

You had every chance to realize. Each time he would stretch his schedule to make a spot for you, even every time he would spam your messages just to ask if you’ve made it home safely. You were not new to dating bans being imposed of idols. Although your father never directly imposed such thing to his recent employees, you knew full well not to meddle with the busy and demanding life of an idol. So, Jaehyun was a problem.

Another one of your problems was when Jaehyun kissed you for the first time the other night. You didn’t know what lead him to do such thing and to be frank, Jaehyun didn’t know what came to him either.

Normally, the secluded and narrow walkway you and Jaehyun are currently walking on would send chills through your spine. The comforting feeling of having someone beside you, and thankfully it’s Jung Jaehyun, made you feel safe despite the thrilling nature of the walkway. The tiring activities of moving in your stuff to your new apartment lingered through your bones.

“Do you always come walk here after school?” He asked, his breath forming smoke in the cold air.

“I do,” You answered. Jaehyun spun his head towards with a face full of worry. “I never leave school very late anyway. In daylight, this place is filled with people so it’s not that scary.”

Your information made Jaehyun release a sigh of relief. Good to know that he won’t need to worry as much about you walking this scary place at this time of the night.

“Thanks for helping me move my stuff to my apartment.” You spoke.

“It’s my pleasure to help you in all kinds of things.”

Heat formed in your cheeks. If you’re not wearing a thick scarf around your neck, you’re sure Jaehyun would notice the small smile you have.

“Hey,” His gloved hand touched your forearm briefly to call your attention. “It still wonders me how we never hung out before.”

“We just never had the chance I guess?” You shrugged.

Before you was a beautiful piece of art. You wondered how someone so charming and handsome could even exist. Not a single flaw was present in Jaehyun’s appearance, meanwhile you could list ten things you wish you could change about the way you look in an instant. You didn’t feel worthy of his attention. You spent a good 30 seconds just staring at him and he did the same.

“Can I do something?” Jaehyun asked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Sure.”

Jaehyun leaned down to meet your face. Placing a hand behind your neck, his lips joined yours. Oh my god, Jung Jaehyun is kissing me!

It took a second or two for you to reciprocate the kiss. His lips felt cold but what made you shiver was the booming feeling in your chest. The kiss wasn’t lustful, it was a steady and endearing kiss. He pulled away after a moment. In his face was the cute smile and a set of dimples.

“I want to hang out with you for the rest of my life.” He said.

“I want to hang out with you too, for as long as you want me to be.”

It also didn’t help that you’ve only came to terms with your feelings just recently. Behind your laptop was a pile of readings waiting to be read. University was your top priority yet, here you are. Looking immensely through your laptop screen with the whole universe in your eyes. That was when you realized. You were willing to put Jaehyun above anything else in your life.

You and Jaehyun was undeniably spending a lot of time with each other. It surprised you that no fans or news outlet has caught you and Jaehyun strolling around the city. You enjoyed being outside, you loved the city and everything that came with it. Jaehyun knew full well not to spend so much time outside with his manager. But, he could never say no to your requests. He don’t why either. Whenever he risked getting caught just to spend time with you, the universe has given multiple chances to realize how you felt about him. Unfortunately, oblivion has spread all over your system like a poison. It was only until tonight that you finally got the taste of the antidote.

You knew the consequences, you knew the implications. He was drunk and you knew full well that there’s a chance he might not meant what he said.

“I’m in love with you as well, Jae.”

 IV.

The gloomy atmosphere of the skies mimicked how you felt that day. Your eyes lingered on your phone screen, it has been that way for about 30 minutes now.

Dad: No one can know about you and Jaehyun. Not even the members.

You were doubting the relationship yourself. Was this a good decision? Jaehyun never made your relationship feel like a mistake. Yet, here you are, thinking that what if being with Jaehyun was nothing but a mistake. You never meant for your parents to find out. However, it would dumb of you to think that you could keep this from them forever, or at least until Jaehyun retires.

“I expected you to know how complicated dating is in the industry.” Your father’s voice wasn’t loud but it was chilling and stern.

“Of course, I know that-” You started.

“Then, why did I wake up this morning bombarded with the news that you and Jaehyun are dating?”

You couldn’t answer him. You knew from the start the complications of your relationship with Jaehyun. There was fear and anxiety bubbling in your heart; and beneath it all, there was a small tinge of regret. That growing seed of regret was something you decided to shrug off. You would never admit to anyone that you felt that way.

“Jaehyun is one of my most popular idol.” Your father spoke again. “If the fans repulse him, my stocks could be damaged.”

You kept your head low. “I understand.”

“I’m not asking you to break up with him.” He announced, causing to look up at him. “But if I receive a news article about the two of you, you know what to expect.”

The leaves grew heavy as the raindrops drenched them. Suddenly, a warm pair of arms snuggled you close to their person.

“I don’t want to leave you while you’re this upset.” Jaehyun whispered.

“Don’t worry about me, babe.” You said. “I’ll be fine soon.”

You heard him drop a heavy sigh. Jaehyun was struggling as well. The last thing you want to do was to bring more stress on him.

“I want to go to Paris too.” You suddenly spoke.

“It baffles me how someone from a rich family as you has never been to Paris.” He said, rubbing comforting circles on your exposed arms.

“My family doesn’t like going out of the country.”

“I wish I could take you to Paris with me.”

“No.” You sat up a little. “This is your time to have fun with your fans and the guys. I know my parents has been really stressful for the both of us.”

“I don’t care about the world as long as you’re with me, Y/N.”

You stared at him for a moment. Before you know it, your lips were entangled with his. The sweet taste of Jaehyun and the bitter reality of your family made you press into him a little harder. Jaehyun wrapped his arms tightly around you as he savored every flavor of you that he could taste right now.

Under his heavy breathing, he spoke, “Promise me something?”

“What?”

“Be with me always, Y/N.” He said, with every bit of love and pleading that he could ever give. Tears were starting to burn in your eyes. You weren’t planning to spend this day with him crying.

“I promise, Jaehyun.” You responded, offering every ounce of sincerity you have in you. “Can you promise me that as well?”

“I could only show you once we get there, Y/N.” He replied. “Even if we won’t be together tomorrow, go to Paris ten years from now and see for yourself if I uphold my side of the promise.”

 V.

Many people have told you that love isn’t always pink skies and candy hearts. But, it sure as hell not sitting behind a computer screen, watching your boyfriend flirt with other idols. You sighed and close your eyes.

It’s okay, Y/N. He’s just putting up the facade that he’s single and ready to mingle. You’ve been dating him for almost two years now, get used to it.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe he’s just dating you to secure a place in the group?” Areum said. Areum is one of your closest college friends, the only person you shared your secret with. She was trustworthy, you’re willing to testify with that. However, came with her loyal and reliable aspect was the fact that she’s so fucking straightforward. She just have the ability to sense bullshit from anyone and she’s not afraid on waking people up.

You scoff. Half you wants her to be wrong and the other believed her.

“No, he’s not.” You said. “Why would you even think that?”

“I just got the vibe.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have to fully believe what I say, Y/N.”

“Damn, if you don’t like him for me, you could have just told me directly.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him for you, Y/N.” Areum’s tone was more serious now. “I care for you. I know that people can manipulate you in every way that they can to get on your good side.”

“Stop accusing Jaehyun of such things.”

It was safe to say that you’ve gone cold to Areum after that conversation. You hated that she might be right but you’re too full of pride to even admit that. But you know Jaehyun better than Areum knows him.

You tried. You tried to forget what Areum said. But the thought still lingers inside your head and now everything that Jaehyun did made you wonder if he’s doing it to stay secured in the company. You don’t have the power that your father has but he’s dating his boss’ daughter and you have a great influence on your dad’s decisions.

“You should have called me to let me know you were working late.” You said, frustration clear in your voice. It’s already an hour before midnight and you have not heard from Jaehyun until the moment he knocked on your apartment door. Ever since you moved in two years ago, Jaehyun has been spending a lot of nights there; he unofficialy lives there. His managers would have been pissed off by now but then, again, you are their boss’ daughter.

“The comeback is almost near.” He said, replicating your frustration. “You should have known that work will be tight now.”

“You could have sent me a simple text so I don’t have to worry where you are.”

“You don’t have to worry where I am, Y/N.” His tone was grim. “Do you really expect me to send you a text while I’m busy? I could have finish so much during the time I’m texting you.”

You took a sharp and deep breath. The anger and hurt were like tornados revolving deep inside you. It was normal for couples to fight but the frustration seems to build up one fight after another. Some days, you just wanted to fight with him. You don’t know what’s the reason or excuse for your sudden urge to form an argument with Jaehyun.

“I asked you to start the kettle for me.” He said. Now, his eyebrows were furrowed in clear frustration and his lips rid of their usual sweetness. His hand holding up the cold kettle.

“I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.” You said, your voice was low but it didn’t sound weak.

“I asked you to do one little thing for me, Y/N.” The loud bang of the kettle hitting the stove made you jump. Your heart raced at the sudden noise but it didn’t diminish your anger.

“And I asked you to do one little thing for me as well.” You fight back.

“Asking me to update you all the time is not a little thing.”

“All I’m asking is for you to take maybe a minute to text me where you are!” You roared. “I’ve been worried sick about where you are!”

“You know I’m just in the building, right?” He retorted. “Why? Do you expect me to be elsewhere?”

“Are you implying that I think you’re cheating?” You said, with a small laugh.

“Why else would you be so worried about where I am when you fully know I’m working?” He kept answering you with a question and it was getting tiring.

“I never said anything about you being unfaithful.” You stated. “Why are you getting so defensive all of a sudden? Is there a reason for me to be thinking that?”

“You’re unbelievable, Y/N. Out of all the things I’ve risked for you.” Jaehyun shook his head. “You’re unbelievable and ungrateful.”

The words stung. It was like Cupid shot a salty arrow towards the wound in your chest. He think you’re ungrateful. For a moment, you blamed yourself. Maybe, I am ungrateful and unreasonable. And before you could think about what to say, you said the words you were going to regret for the rest of your life.

“You know, I think you’re only dating me to keep a place in the company.”

You had to reason to say that. It was a sudden burst of the moment and you immediately regret it. Jaehyun gave you no reason to even think that. Your insecurity and fear got in you and you were on the brink of ruining everything. How did it come to this? You were about to retract your statement when Jaehyun turned his back against you for the first time in his life.

 VI.

A penthouse was definitely too much for you. You never called it a penthouse though, you’ve always called it your apartment. It was great, finally moving out of your parents’ house even if it’s literally just ten minutes away. Everywhere you look, it reminds you of Jaehyun. He helped you move in everything and helped you settle in. The first few nights when you couldn’t sleep because everything was new and overwhelming, he was there to sing you your favorite The Smiths song. He didn’t know the lyrics at first so he just hummed the tune. He was sure he was doing it out of tune but he tried for you. The penthouse was big yet it was suffocating; but Jaehyun was there. It felt safe, it felt like home. You could sleep on the streets and you would still feel at peace as long as he’s there beside you.

Jaehyun couldn’t sleep either. You hurt him but he wasn’t going to deny that he hurt you too. And that’s the last thing he wants to do to you. Why did he turn his back when he knows that you’re just tired and worried? But why did you doubt him when you know he’s only doing his job as an idol? Jaehyun’s eyes immediately landed on the peach plush toy that you gave him for no reason, and then to the Franklin Wilson vinyl record that you spent so much money on. Most of the gifts you gave him, you gave him for no reason - not on an anniversary or on his birthday. You would just randomly give him something sometimes. Above all, you gave him immense love. You could date anyone you want, someone who is of great power and wealth. Yet, you decided to love him. When he’s with you, he’s devoid of all the consequences of the world. He forgot what aching felt like to the point that he forgot that the word exists. 

But right now, it all aches.

“I said I’m sorry, Jaehyun.” Your voice was paired with the painful tears that streamed your voice.

“Come on, Y/N, stop crying.” He pleaded, his own tears falling from his eyes. You crying pained Jaehyun so much, the fact that he was the reason behind it didn’t help either. All he wanted to do right now was to hug you, console you that he’s sorry and he didn’t meant it when he said he wanted to break up.

“I want someone who would never doubt my intentions of loving them.” He said through his tears. “I thought you were that someone.”

“Is there anything I could do to change your mind?”

Jaehyun shook his head, each turn tearing your heart apart. You blamed no one but yourself. If only you didn’t say those words. You wanted to beg but your sobs were choking your words, as if it knows better than to say something in fear that you’ll fuck everything up again.

Jaehyun didn’t care about what vengeance you would do. He knows you so well and he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. But, in a way, he wanted you to do to that to him. He wanted you to tell your father to fire him, kick him out of the company. He wanted that so that he can know you can feel better after having your heart broken by him. He wanted that so that he can be assured that you can finally be at peace. Yet, he knew you very well. What bothered him the most was what you’ll do to yourself. Will you drown yourself in tears and neglect your health & well-being? Will you start flunking in university? It worried him and he hated the fact that he needed to end the greatest thing in his life to avoid hurting you in the future.

Areum was quick on her feet to rush to your apartment after hearing the news.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She quickly said.

You only hugged her. Letting your tears and sobs fall all over again.

“I’m sorry I even said those things about him.” She said. A part of you wanted to blame her but you saw the bigger picture. You chose to let those words stick to you and ended up hurting Jaehyun. And Jaehyun has better things to do than to be kept down by a relationship. You knew he was begging to be freed without him realizing that.

 VII.

The first time you saw Jaehyun was five months after your break up. Their recent comeback was a success and due to that, the company held a mini party to celebrate the boys’ hardwork. You shouldn’t have come but the pleading eyes of Doyoung and Johnny gave you no choice. They promised to keep you away from Jaehyun throughout the whole night. You doubted the plan first hand since you know Johnny and Jaehyun are drinking buddies. When there is alchohol, you best believe the two would be inseperable through the night.

Due to Mark Lee’s request, a karaoke console was present in the party. Taeil and Haechan were quick to have a duet before anyone else. They wanted to “bless the night with their voice.” You chuckled at their crazy antics. You definitely missed everyone. Ever since the break up, you focused more on your studies and in a few weeks, you’re off to graduate. The boys never failed to communicate with you through messages and video calls, but you never saw them as often as you used to do.

“Okay, everyone!” Mark screamed through the mic of the karaoke machine. “It’s my time to shine!”

You settled in a spot beside Jungwoo who offered you another cup of beer. The soft, mellow tune of the song began along with the title on the screen: “Leaves” by Ben & Ben. You heard Mark play this song in one of the lives he bugged you to watch in support. You never heard the first song and you didn’t really hear the song clearly in his live. But judging by the instrumentals, you conluded that it might be sad.

“And in the end, can you tell me if it was worth the try so I can decide,” Mark sang. His voice was heavenly but his tipsy nature made it funny.

You knew you weren’t supposed to be in this party. You already regret so many things in your life and now you’re adding this party to that list.

“Oh, you never really love someone until, you learn to forgive.”

Has Jaehyun forgiven you? The question suddenly came up as Mark sang that line. You felt like you don’t have the right to say that you’ve forgiven him. What did he do to you that would require forgiveness? Nothing. He needed to break away and that’s not a sin to anyone. You wondered if he has forgiven you - for doubting him and for making him feel like his love wasn’t enough. You wanted to punch yourself as you swallow the beer in hopes that it will kill the heartache.

Has she forgiven me? That question floats in Jaehyun’s mind even before the party. A love like yours was not something that is easy to forget. Jaehyun doesn’t think he could ever forget you or what your love felt like. It made his heels touch the sky and his fingertips reach the stars. He doesn’t know if you have forgiven him, for breaking your heart and for not giving it another try. Perhaps, he will never know the answer until the day he die.

The song has reached it’s climax. A series of “All will be alright in time” sung by Mark filled the ears of the listeners as the crowd grew silent, savoring the song. A voice inside of you asked you look at Jaehyun for the first time tonight. It’s been five months and being without him is enough punishment for you. You were going to give yourself the pleasure of looking at his face once again. He was five people away but, thankfully, you can still see him clearly. His head swayed lightly to the song before turning his head towards yours - not because your gaze burns but because he wanted to see your face again.

“Oh, you never really love someone until, you learn to forgive.”

The ending instrumentals played right after. As if living through the song, you offered him a small smile. Without thinking twice, he did the same.

That’s the answer to both of your questions.

The balcony of their dorms gave you a full view of the sleeping city. The faint sound of “Psycho” by Red Velvet crept it’s way from the dorm to the balcony. The sound became clear for a moment, an indication that someone opened the balcony door and closed it.

Jaehyun stood beside you, savoring the cold, night wind. You were both quiet.

“Can I hold you?” He suddenly asked.

You turned to him with confusion. You didn’t know why he would ask you that all of a sudden.

“Please?” He begged. “Before we admit that it’s done?”

Before you know it, your arms are wrapped around his torso for the last time.

 VIII.

The busy streets of the city became a lullaby to you. After graduating from college, you interned in one of the top architectural firms in the country. You gained your architecture license after two years but you never left the firm. Unlike your father, you’re not really the leader or boss type. You enjoyed working for and with others. The company felt like a small family. It was very exclusive so they don’t really have a lot of core members; to be amongst them was a privilege in itself. The senior architect, Nayeon, was busy today so she sent you to present the design you both proposed for one of your clients. You never met the client personally or even knew their names as this was your first initial meeting.

The sweet smell of croissants filled your nostrils as you entered the meeting place. The client requested to hold the meeting in a luxurious cafe just a few minutes away from your office. This client must be really rich to waste time on a meeting in a cafe like this. The wide array of the pastries brought back your childhood memories as your mother would bring you home croissants from this place before.

Along with your childhood memories, a familiar yet dear face looked up from their seat. It was no one else but Jung Jaehyun, still beautiful even after all these years.

Oh, isn’t life just really tender on me?

“Hey,” You greeted.

“Hey,” he replied.

There was awkwardness, of course. But you needed to be professional, after all it’s been eight years.

“Im Nayeon couldn’t make it today so I’m here on her behalf.” You stated. “Hope that’s okay for you?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun replied. Standing up to offer you a seat. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

You cleared your throat. You wanted to get out of there quickly so you immediately brought out the papers.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked.

“No, thank you.” You declined with a smile.

Jaehyun felt foreign. It seems like he doesn’t know who you are anymore. Well, after all, it has been eight years. You’ve grown into someone he’s unfamiliar with.

As you present your plans, Jaehyun couldn’t help but drift in his own thoughts. He wondered about what might have been. If things didn’t end up the way that they did, where would the both of you be right now? He wanted to marry you. He would look at you every night and think to himself that this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Feelings change and so does what people think about others but he still wondered what would have been if he didn’t give up so easily.

But maybe, if the both of you held on that night, it could lead to even more damaging things. Jaehyun assured himself that he made the right decision instead of waiting for things to get worse. At least, right now, he has the ability to see you without resentment from either sides. That’s good enough for him.

“Thank you, my wife will definitely love that.” He commented.

Your heart sank at his statement. Of course, he’s married now. A beautiful creature like him would have no problems finding a partner. You didn’t know you hold hope in your heart right before it crashed down because of the sudden news. You were foolish in thinking that there could still be a chance.

“Your design is amazing, Y/N.” He said.

“Thank you,” You replied. “I’m glad that you like it.”

“I expected nothing but excellence from you. Of course, I would love it.”

You smiled at his words. Jaehyun never failed to make you feel appreciated. You’re bittersweet at the fact that another woman would feel appreciated everything, and that woman is not you. You remembered the late nights where you conclude that you would have this man for the rest of your life. All of that are a distant memory now, along with his touch and kisses.

The both of you are two different people now but you know, and Jaehyun knew, the love is still there. Maybe the romance already left, but the love and genuine care was still evergreen. And you both know that it will never die for as long as the two of you live.

 IX.

There are a lot of things that you regret in your life. Most of the time, you don’t want to change the past. Even if a lot of things made you want to crash and burn, it still formed you into someone you never knew you could become. This was your first time in Paris, France. The wealth and fame you accumulated over the past years of your life as an architect gave you all the opportunities to get to this very place. However, you made no efforts in landing here. Not until it reached the ten year mark.

You still remembered the promise. But the other party is still not present and it’s almost nearing midnight. You didn’t want to regret every coming here so you decided to relax and make this all about you.

“You remembered.” A voice spoke behind you. The chattering of people that laid in picnics under the Eiffel Tower were still loud despite the time.

Jaehyun is here. He remembered.

“You remembered.” You said back. Your eyes still covered with bewilder, almost not believing that Jaehyun is in front of you, keeping his side of the promise.

“How could I forget?” Jaehyun said, almost in a whisper. “How could I forget you?”

You did nothing but smile at him, with all the love remaining in your heart - all the love that will never go away no matter how much you try.

“Do you ever wondered what could have been if things didn’t go the way that they did?” You asked, looking up at the tall, iron tower.

“All the time.” He replied.

“How’s Chaeyoung and the kids?”

“They’re very well.” He replied with a nod. “How about Eunwoo?”

“He’s doing fine too. He’s currently in Germany with his family.” You answered.

“Ah, I’m glad my wish came true.” He said.

“Wish?”

“Yeah,” He turned his head in your direction. “My wish that you find someone who will love you better than I did.”

“You wished that?” You asked in disbelief.

“I actually didn’t wish it,” He said. “I knew that the universe made someone out there to love someone as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, stop it.” You blushed. You felt guilty that another man, specifically your ex, was making you blush.

“So, this is my proof when I promised you that I will always be here.” Jaehyun whispered.

“And me being here is my proof that I meant when I said that I want to hang out with you for as long as you want me to be.” You replied.

The night was young and alive, so is the love you have for each other. A love that, unfortunately, neither of you could ever express ever again.

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (5/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You try to get a handle on you anxious thoughts and an old face returns to cause trouble

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (not romantic...yet)

A/n: So this took forever. Had alot of trouble with the action part of the scenes but it came through :)  Hope you all have lovely days

 Thomas face recovers from your question rather quickly, “He is dead. You can check records for yourself.”

  He says it like it’s a fact. But he’s quick and dismissive and doesn’t utter another word. You want to ask more questions, details of it to ease your anxiety. But he clenches his jaw and his grip on the wheel tightens. You worry you may have angered him. Your questions weird and all over the place. He didn’t like not being able to anticipate another person moves. Thomas Shelby didn’t like being caught off guard. You were the same and it seemed that neither of you could figure each other out. You didn’t know whether to believe him or not.

 As if on cue, the engine begins smoking. Thomas stops the car on the side of the road. You continue staring out the window. He gets out without another word. You stay by yourself in the front. A mix of emotions your struggling to contain. Your embarrassed for asking the question, your angry about the nightmare, sad that you get paranoid over something this small. You can hear the men talking, you don’t stretch your ears to listen. You rather the day end here and now but there was still more to go. You see a tall, bald man come around the car and open the engine. He doesn’t take a moment, his hands already messing with the parts. He knew what was wrong immediately. Within a few minutes, hes done, the smoking ceasing. He notices you watching and pulls off his cap and bows his head to you.

 “Ma’am” He says, heading back with the other lads.

 Thomas returns with sandwiches to give. He hands one over to you, you take it gently.

 “we should be there shortly.” He starts the engine, it works smoothly.

 You hold the sandwich delicately in your hand. You can’t eat because of the anxiety pains there. You try to get out of your head, knowing you didn’t want to be distracted when you got to your destination. You try to find solace in his dismissive words. You can check yourself he says. You can go see the body yourself. Find the records. You can do that all later. You take a deep breath.

 “Mr. Shelby, I feel I need to apologize-“

 “No need. You did nothing wrong.”

 “I just feel my questions were-“

 He cuts you off again, “they was nothing wrong. I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”

 “I'm not sure I wanted to know before.”

“And now?”

 “Sometimes a person needs confirmation that what’s in the past, stays there.” You answer.

He hums in response. You keep talking forgetting who you were talking to for a moment.

 “Do your nightmares ever stay with longer that you would like?” you ask. The both of you stare at the road in front of you.

 “All the damm time.” He answers.

 The rest of the ride is spent in silence. The only thing you hear is the tires rolling on the road and the chatter the men were having in the back. This time the silence wasn’t as loud.

  The horse auction was nothing to what you thought. Cars filled the parking lot and it seemed like it was a lot of people from all over came to buy some horses. The men from the back all introduced themselves quickly. The one you met John trying to be cheeky and kiss your hand. The guy with the mustache, who would later introduce himself as Arthur, slaps him behind the head.

“Arthur Shelby ma’am”  He shakes your hand and smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

 You learn the others quite quickly, Curly (the one who fixed the engine) Charlie, the brothers uncle. and Michael their cousin who reminded you more of a boy than a man. You walk next to Arthur and Thomas as you enter the auction. You see people of the rich kind with glasses of champagne leaning over a railing, laughing and talking. You noticed that a lot of people staring at your group. Some of their eyes held fear, others jealousy or disdain.

Thomas finds a spot around the railing that he likes, you all follow in suit. Below its like a pit where you can see all the horses prancing. You can hear numbers being yelled out from beneath you as a man runs around with a horse showing her off to the audience. Around you notice people nodding their heads, putting their money down for the horse they wanted. Across from the railing you see a familiar face.

 May Carleton. You didn’t know her personally no. But you knew who she was. Rich and full of connections. The Carleton family were very well off and respected. You can see her eyes trained over on your side, she doesn’t notice you. In fact, you catch her gawking at Thomas.

 “Tommy that’s the horse.” Curly says pointing at the new horse they were prancing around.

 She was grey and spotted, young and wild. Thomas nods his head putting a bid on the horse. You look at May as she leans over to the man next to her. Her lips move fast but her gaze doesn’t waver from Thomas.

 “You’re about to have another bid.” You mutter to Thomas.

 He looks at you confused before the announcer call out what you just predicted. You direct your gaze to May; the woman trying to get attention from the leader of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas grips the railing and leans forward, not willing to give up the horse.

“I have a bad feeling Tommy.” Curly says.

Thomas ignore him as he and May have a silent battle. You see her fascinated with it. You back away from the bidding and excuse yourself to walk around the building. Honestly you were bored from what’s going on.

  You walk around the people listening in on their conversations pretending to just be passing by. You giggle at the gossip you hear loving how out of context it sounds. And then you see them. They blend in with the crowds  quite nicely. No one would point them out if they didn’t know em. But you did. Sabinis men.

You cover your face with your hands a fake a sneeze as one walks right past you. You count two but you wouldn’t be surprised if there were more hiding somewhere. You try to make your way back to the spot the group was at. But they’re gone.

“Fuck.” You say under your breath. The auction starts to dwindle in numbers the people beginning to go home. You walk around the facility, hoping to run into one of the Shelby brothers and not Sabinis men. You had no weapons on you, a choice you curse yourself for doing.

 ‘Never leave without a weapon” You tell yourself, angry for leaving yourself vulnerable. You hear footsteps behind you. You stop in your tracks, the footsteps continue to come closer. You look around for any objects that could save you. There’s only a small statue of an angel.  It would have to do. You turn around, face to face with the third guy. One you did not see from earlier. One you would have surely recognized. Alastair.

 “(Y/N),” he says pulling out a knife from within his pocket.

 You don’t say anything watching as he moves slowly towards you. You don’t feel angry or betrayed. The two of you were never friends. Never enemies either.

 “Alastair, How are you?” You say sarcastically. You drop your coat to the floor, it would only slow you down.

 He stands a good distance from you. He doesn’t move or walk any further.

 You clench your teeth. “I’m gonna guess that this doesn’t look to good.”

 “Afraid not,” he pauses throwing and catching his knife in the air. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, “I can give you the choice to do this the easy way.”

 You scoff. “I’m not gonna let you drag me to Sabini.”

 “Then I guess I’ll bring him two heads.”

 Alastair lunges at you, cutting the top of your arm. You jump back back and hiss in pain, he lunges again. This time you duck, spinning fast to kick him around the back of his knees. Alastair falls but he doesn’t go down without jerking his body around, swinging his arm fast aiming to slash your stomach. You stupidly grab the knife mid air and hold it. He stares at you wide eyes as blood leaks from your hand but you don’t let release

“Wha-“ you didn’t give him the time to finish.

 You kick him right in the jaw knocking him back. You run toward the angel statue grabbing it by the wings. You feel your hair being pulled back. You decide to knock back hard your skull colliding with another. You both walk away from each feeling a painful pounding in each others head. You watch the blood leak from Alastairs nose. You take the butt of the statue and collide again with his face.  You hear an awful crunch as he fall down to the ground dropping the knife. He groans like an hurt animal. You must have broke his nose.

 You drop the statue on the floor and pick up the knife. Your about to make decision of what to do when you hear gunshots close by. You run toward them leaving Alistair. The gunshots don’t stop until you arrive downstairs in the pit where you were watching the horses prance. You see a body on the floor, the face bloody. You see Thomas, Curly and Charlie holding back Arthur who had blood all over hands and face. Michael watches them. You stay silent watching the scene unfold.

Thomas rushes over the to the bloody body. “He’s still breathing.” He yells, “Don’t get blood on the kid!” You see him yell at Michael demanding he give him the keys to the car.

 “I’ m alright to drive.” Michael says looking as if he hadn’t blinked since the whole ordeal.  He walks out with Curly, Charlie, Arthur and the assassin.

Thomas just stands and waits with his hands in his pickets watching them trail out.

 John walks back in, his face hardened, “I fucking lost em.”

 “So Sabini sent two to get the job done.” Thomas says

 “Three,” You chime in, finally making yourself known, “He sent three after you. He must be really paranoid.”

 The brothers eyes widen as they look at you. Did you look that bad. You had won the fight after all. You look down at your yellow dress seeing the stained all over it. You see cuts littered across your arms some where you hadn’t even felt them. And your hand was definitely the worst of them all, the blood still dripping from it. You can’t imagine the damage done to your face.

“I left him back there.” You say suddenly feeling very faint and tired.

 “John put her in the car.” He says walking past you. You feel Johns hands lead you away, the cheekiness from earlier gone replaced with fear and gentleness.

 “You can let go of the knife.” John tell you. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it, as you let it drop to the ground.

 He leads you to the passenger seat where Michael . “What happened to her?” You hear him say.

 A gunshot rings from the distance.  Everyone goes quiet. Thomas walks back out casually. His face void of any emotion, he opens the door to the drivers seat.

  “Out.” He says. Michael does so. The tone not something you want to disagree with.

 John stands in by your window, giving Thomas the death stare. “Why did you do that, Tommy?”  

 “We only needed one alive.” He simply replies.

Read pt.6

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat

[gaemkyuu]

Of Kings & Queens (Part 6)

Warnings: none!  A/N: Coronation day! I’m really thinking of adding one last chapter with a baby or pregnancy, but I’m not sure if I should just leave it as is... let me know your thoughts!  AU!Prince Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

In the urgency to have Charlie become King and Olivia become queen, the Northern Kingdom and the Western Kingdom decided that it would be for the best if the coronation day for Prince Charlie was combined with their wedding. It was also decided early on that Olivia and Charlie would have little to no say in what went into their special day. The only saving grace they had was Savannah who knew her best friend enough to object to certain décor or wedding dress designs, but the poor girl was swamped with wedding planning and tasks around the palace. After all, the Royal families had decided that the wedding should happen within a month’s time. The two of them felt more and more anxious as the days drew nearer.

Charlie was becoming increasingly overwhelmed with the constant stream of information being thrown at him about the Western Kingdom. He knew that trade and commerce with resources would be different, but he didn’t anticipate learning about the history of the Kingdom and the inner workings of its economy. Charlie figured he could learn about the Kingdom as he got his hands involved, like learning on the go. He didn’t expect the increased amount of meetings and gatherings of the Royal Council, which took away from his time sneaking around with Olivia.

Olivia on the other hand became increasingly frustrated with the extra court classes that her mother felt obliged to teach her. Every day she spent 6 hours with her mother being lectured about the duties of a Queen and what makes a good Queen. She also had to sit into more events with Ladies of the court and was constantly scrutinized on how she looked, behaved and presented herself. It was exhausting and Olivia felt increasingly annoyed with how she wasn’t allowed to be herself. It didn’t help that the only times she saw Charlie was when she passed him in the hall. He would exchange an apologetic smile and wave, which she would reciprocate, but the both of them knew how much this whole ordeal was getting to them.

The night before their wedding should’ve been filled with excitement and anticipation before the celebration. She had dismissed Savannah for the evening, much to her best friend’s reluctance. Savannah knew something was going on and she was growing increasingly concerned that Olivia was clamming up more than usual. However, Olivia knew Savannah was under a lot of stress preparing for the wedding and felt guilty about venting to her friend. Instead, she thought it would be beneficial for Savannah to get an early night and a little time to relax to herself. The only reason Savannah agreed was that Charlie caught her in the hall earlier and asked that she sneak him a small picnic basket of treats that they could enjoy together that evening. She didn’t ask any questions, but she also knew that Olivia would appreciate the gesture, and so she left a small picnic basket tucked away on her balcony.

However, Olivia sat quietly in her room crying on her bed, confused, lost and overwhelmed. The extra time spent with her mother made her question herself and made her feel insecure about herself. She started to feel unprepared every time her mother corrected her and started to question her worthiness as Queen. She hated the fact that her mother spent 6 hours every day for the past month grooming her to be a pretty wife that stood silently and poised beside her King, encouraging and agreeing to his every word. Her mother often reminded her that she needed to know her place and although she admired her strong willed nature, it was something that she needed to control as Queens are strong but also submissive. 

“Liv? What’s wrong?” she jumped at the voice and snapped her head in the direction of the voice. There stood a tired looking Charlie with a picnic basket with a concerned look on his face. He moved over to sit beside her on the bed, placing the basket of treats on the nightstand, quickly wrapping his arms around her. Olivia melted into the hug and the small stream of tears became a steady river, flowing down her face. She sniffled and bit her lips as she didn’t want anyone to hear her breaking down. Charlie rubbed soft circles on her back with one hand and held her head to his shoulder with the other. “It’s okay Liv, take a deep breath and just let it out”

“I’m sorry Charlie” she sobbed quietly into his shoulder, hugging him tighter. She loved Charlie with her whole heart, and there was no denying that. However, the lack of control she had on her life was frightening and intrusive. She felt the suffocating feeling that night in the garden slowly creep up on her, but having Charlie there helped keep her at bay. “I love you”

“I love you too Olivia. You’re okay... It’s all going to be okay...” Olivia continued to cry into her love’s shoulder and eventually she found herself calming down, but the sadness remained. She pulled away from Charlie and moved to her vanity to grab a handkerchief to wipe away the smudges of make up on her face. She gripped onto the edges of the vanity and took a deep breath, straightening her spine. She was trying to compose herself and convince herself that everything was fine and that she was overreacting, but as Charlie wrapped his arms around her from behind, she melted into his touch. He turned her around and hugged her once more and Olivia was grateful for it. She didn’t realize how badly she needed a physical connection with Charlie. To her surprise, he picked her up bridal style, but she fought him to be put down. “Would you please let me practice for tomorrow?” 

She gave him a small laugh and complied with his request. It amazed her that despite everything going on Charlie was still able to make her laugh or smile. Carrying her over to the bed, he laid her down gently and joined her on the other side of the bed. Instinctively, she cuddled into him, lying her head on his chest, something that Charlie greatly appreciated. The two lay there in silence as Olivia drew soft absentminded shapes on his chest and Charlie played with her hair.

“What’s in the basket?” she felt Charlie’s chest shake slightly as he chuckled and moved to sit up against her head board and pillow. She followed his actions and sat up as well as Charlie placed the basket in between them. He motioned for her to open in it, and she curiously did, smiling at what she saw inside. “You brought these for me?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to spend much time with you and we’ve both been under a lot of stress. So I had Savannah pull some strings and put this together for us to eat out feelings out tonight” he smiled and pulled out a strawberry pastry, taking a bite and rolling his eyes at how delicious it was.

“I guess I can have one. I have to watch my figure so I don’t look fat in my wedding dress tomorrow” Olivia thought she meant it in a joking manner, but it came out a little bitter to which Charlie frowned at her in concern and put his treat down. 

“Liv, what’s going on? You’ve never been ashamed at your appetite or conscious about your body” she sighed as she pulled out a pastry and quietly chewed on it, contemplating how much she wanted to tell him. “Olivia Grace, don’t try to hide a single thing because you know I can tell when you’re hiding something”

“I don’t know... I’m just feeling so lost and confused. Spending all that extra time in court classes with my mom has been getting to me... I feel like I’m losing who I am in the midst of being this perfect Queen that the nation needs, while also realizing this is not the way I want to help the nation. I don’t doubt you as a King, but I feel like I’m having to choose between you or something that I’ve been working my whole life for?” Charlie sat patiently letting Olivia express herself, knowing that she rarely got the occasion to. “You’re going to make an amazing king, I don’t doubt that... but how do you just let everything that you’ve been working towards go? Especially when you’re being asked to forget about something you’re passionate about?”

“You know I won’t dismiss you, right? Your word is equally weighted in my eyes” Olivia sighed deeply and Charlie knew there was very little that he could contribute to the situation.

“I know that, but I don’t get to be in the room to make crucial decisions with you... you’ll make them on your own and you’ll do the best that you can. But the problem is there are people who could offer better insight to the situation” a brief moment of hurt crossed Charlie’s features and she immediately regretted voicing that out loud. Day in and out, Charlie was proving to be an amazing King, with wisdom beyond his years. This was another thing that Olivia admired. Despite the chaos and fun loving side of Charlie, there was a man who was ready to lead a nation in a moment’s notice, regardless of how he felt.

“Is this what it’s about? The recognition?” her eyes widened and realized that she had to clarify what she meant before things were misconstrued.

“No! I couldn’t care less if they only wrote your name in history as King!” Charlie still looked apprehensive and unsure. “I just don’t want history to mention me as they’ve mentioned the Queens before us. In everything that I read, they are portrayed only for their beauty as an accessory to the King, but never for what they’ve done. We are going to have kids one day and I want my daughter to believe that she could do so much more than being pretty and submissive. I want our kids to believe that anything is possible if they work hard for it” he perked up at the last part of her explanation.

“You want to have kids?” she scoffed at his response, knowing she should’ve expected that part to be his biggest take away.

“Yes, but not the point Charlie. I thought that Kings and Queens made things possible for the Kingdom, when in reality we follow tradition that no longer makes sense to our society!” Charlie held her hand as she sighed, frustrated.

“Things are a little backwards aren’t they?” Olivia nodded and the two of them sat there in silence. The reality of their situation sank in deeper and the discontentment Olivia felt grew stronger. She looked to her husband to be for assurance, but noticed just how deep the bags under his eyes had been and how sullen he looked.

“I’m sorry... I’m being completely insensitive to how this is affecting you... have you been alright?” Charlie cleared his throat and straightened up, thinking carefully about what he wanted to talk about.

“I’ve been in meetings all day trying to decide what my first decree as king would be”

“And?”

“I have no idea... Pat said to pick something that would profit the economy between the Kingdoms, but the King said that we need to start exploring foreign trade. Meanwhile, the Viziers have been voicing out the concerns of the people, all the while I’m trying to take your advice of picking something simple because I’m going to stick with it for a while and... it’s just... it’s a mess” Olivia moved closer to Charlie as he stuttered through his frustrations. She moved his head to rest on her shoulder and played with his hair.

“You’re going to make an amazing King. I know that may not mean much right now, but there is no one else who I’d rather take my place other than you” Charlie smiled up at her and kissed the shoulder he leaned on. Regardless of what his decree would be, all of the other three Kingdoms would have to accept it the day of the Coronation when it is announced. Rarely ever was a decree never agreed upon, as it was the duty of the next King to let the other Kings know in advance as to what he would be deciding.

“I just wished the roles were reversed, y’know? I wouldn’t mind standing there and looking pretty!” he smiled as a genuine laugh came from Olivia as it sounded like a beautiful melody to his ears. It had been rare to hear such laughter come from her as of late and he made the mental note to make sure she laughed more often with him. “Listen, I know this isn’t panning out the way we wanted it to, but I hope you understand how much I love you Liv. I really mean it”

“I know. I love you more” she kissed the top of his head before he moved to sit beside her and yawn. “I really appreciate this cute little picnic you set up for us” he opened his mouth to respond, but another yawn made its way out. “But seeing as tomorrow is a big day and we are both exhausted, what say you we put these pastries away and settle into bed?”

“Feeling frisky are we?” Charlie smirked at the flushed Princess before him as she realized how her proposition could’ve been taken. “Relax, I got what you meant, I’m just teasing you. I just didn’t think you’d blush that deeply at the mention of sex” his eyes grew the size of saucers as her face deepened its shade, cluing in to her embarrassment. “You haven’t had sex before, have you?”

Olivia stuttered to get out her response, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the sudden announcement of her virginity in the conversation. It wasn’t customary for Princesses to spend time with any male unless it was an authoritative person, family or a potential suitor. Even then, there would always be a chaperone, which was usually Savannah. Olivia knew about sex, but a conversation such as this had never come up in the time that they had been together. She didn’t realize that she was still stuttering to explain herself until Charlie silenced her with a kiss.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about Liv” he winked, pecking her lips once more. “Does that mean I get to be your first everything?” She nodded and hid her face in his neck, still embarrassed at the situation. Charlie took this as a cue to lie down in her bed, reaching for the sheets as he slid them down. The couple laid in silence for the majority of the evening, Olivia drawing patterns on his chest after he unbuttoned it and Charlie playing with her hair while rubbing soft circles on her back. Eventually, Olivia fell asleep on his chest and he stealthily tried to get away without waking her up, but stopped when she grabbed his wrist. “Liv if they find us together in the morning, you know we won’t hear the end of it”

“Please... I just...” Charlie couldn’t say no to her, mostly because he knew the feeling. It was that same feeling he felt every late night that he stayed up to study more about the Western Kingdom and he was lost, overwhelmed and tired, wishing Olivia could just hold him to ease the emotions he was feeling.

“Fine... move over” she smiled appreciatively and moved over more on the bed, turning to face the other side so that Charlie could cuddle her from behind. “Just don’t complain if you wake up and I have all the covers” Olivia laughed and playfully hit him with a pillow. Charlie pulled her closer and snuggled his face into her neck, which caused her to giggle a bit. Olivia felt herself drifting as Charlie gave her neck soft kissed and hummed a melody that lulled her to sleep.

“Everything is going to be okay Liv. I promise”

***

The rest they received that night was much needed and both would say it was the best sleep they’ve had in a long time! However, the next morning Savannah entered to wake Olivia up only to shriek in surprise as Charlie was in bed. Immediately, the two jumped out of bed and Savannah rushed to the door. Hearing Savannah’s shriek sent guards her way and she explained that she had walked in on the Princess changing and waved them off. As Savannah entered the room, she chastised the both of them that they were lucky she had come alone this morning. After giving them a moment to say goodbye, Charlie exited through the balcony and Savannah began by shoving Olivia to the nearest bath to get her washed up.

Olivia didn’t have a moment to think about how she was feeling as it was one thing after another. Savannah ran a tight ship today and there was no chance that Olivia could ask for a break until Savannah got through her entire todo list. She winced as Savannah pulled her hair back and fastened it in the bun at the top of her head. People were constantly in and out of her bedroom asking Savannah questions about the wedding and coronation. Olivia was given bread, cheese and fruit to snack on before the Coronation and wedding, which she was thankful for, but she didn’t enjoy too much with the chaos going on before her.

Savannah finished up her hair and make up, then proceeded to get her into her wedding dress. This would be the first time anyone saw the dress, including Olivia. She trusted her best friend with her life, but she felt a little nervous. Upon seeing the dress, she instantly regretted any doubt she had for Savannah because the dress was perfect. Her dress was anything but the disastrous ball gown pastry dress her mother had recommended.

“Shall we?” her best friend smiled and Olivia nodded, feeling excitement.

Olivia’s wedding dress was a column dress that was off the shoulder adorned with iridescent pearl lace and a court train that began at her sleeves, mimicking the image of a cape. It was off-white and form fitting, something that no Princess or Queen in history had ever worn on their Coronation or Wedding day. Savannah zipped up her dress and helped Olivia into her custom made off-white silk high heels with gold vinery climbing up the back. She stood tall and felt beautiful as she stared at her appearance in the mirror. Savannah came from behind and hugged her best friend, chin resting on her shoulder and staring back at her reflection.

“You are going to be an amazing Queen Olivia. Forget anything your mother taught you and just be you. The people already love you, so why change?” a happy tear slid down Olivia’s face in appreciation at the kind words from her best friend. “Stop! If you cry, I’ll cry! I also just did your make up!” the girls shared a laugh and Savannah asked another servant to grab the King to help with the veil.

As her father walked into her room, his eyes instantly filled with tears and he was grateful that Savannah was there to help him place her tiara and cathedral weil on her. No words were exchanged between the two of them, just smiles and silent conversations with their eyes. With a last look at the mirror, Olivia took her father’s arm in hers and they walked to the Throne room where all the guests awaited. The walk to the throne room felt long and Olivia wishes it went by faster because then she wouldn’t have had a moment to think about what she was feeling. The closer they drew, the more confused Olivia became. She was excited to marry Charlie, but she wasn’t extremely thrilled to give up everything she worked for. She was thrilled that the Kingdom would have Charlie to lead them, but she wasn’t excited at the idea of being a trophy wife from here on out. 

Her father cleared his throat and Olivia realized they were at the doors to the throne room. At his signal, her life would never be the same, and a wave of nausea washed over her, her hands trembling suddenly. She took a deep breath and swallowed, in fear she might vomit, but her father let go of her arm and turned to face her, holding both of her hands in his.

“I haven’t had a moment with you like this since you were a child.” tears welled up in her father’s eyes. “Now here you are, a beautiful young woman becoming a wife and a Queen” he sniffled as a tear escaped and he wiped it with the back of his hand, never letting hers go. “Olivia, I’ve known since you were a baby that you would someday become one of the greatest Queens this Kingdom has ever known. I still believe that my dear.”

Olivia started to feel a little emotional as her father lowered his defenses around her. “I know that you have dreamed your whole life to one day relieve me of my duties. I’ve learned a lot about myself as a King and father watching you grow up and listening to your observations about this Kingdom. In time my dear, you will change this Kingdom for the better” Olivia let a tear slide down her face at her father’s words but it was quickly wiped away by him. 

“I will always be your little Princess” she smiled and the King sniffled. The servant apologetically interrupted their moment preparing for them to open the door as the muffled sounds of the orchestra penetrated the thick doors. With a kiss on the cheek, a nod from the King, they linked arms again and prepared to walk down the aisle together. 

Olivia will forever remember that moment when the doors opened and she saw Charlie at the throne. Watching his face go from shock, to amazement, to excitement, to happiness was such a joy to watch. She could only see him and he could only see her. Regardless of what the future held, Olivia had one certainty. She would never regret the decisions she made that led her to Charlie. As she walked with her father to join Charlie at the throne, the smile on his face was the biggest she had ever seen on him, and as the music slowly came to an end as they arrived in front of him, the smile remained.

“How you doin’?” he whispered, winking at her. They heard King Patrick clear his throat but couldn’t care less.

“To you Prince Charles, I pass my daughter, Princess Olivia Grace, to you. May you fill her life with peace, joy, happiness and prosperity” the King placed Olivia’s hand in Charlie’s, hesitating a moment to pull away. “Take care of my Princess” he whispered looking Charlie sincerely in the eyes.

“I promise” he whispered back and the King let go, joining his wife to the side.

The Royal Wedding proceeded exactly the way it should have. The religious passages and oaths were sworn, along with the traditions of the Western and Northern Kingdom, and soon the two were pronounced husband and wife, in which they turned around to face their guests for the first time. Olivia noticed King Jeremy and Queen Carolynn smiling in the front row on the right side, their parents seated behind them, while on the left side Prince Owen and Prince Hayden sat next to the King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom. To her immediate right sat the Royal Family of the Northern Kingdom and her own mother and father to her immediate right. All of the important families, gathered in one location for this momentous occasion.

The trumpets sounded signifying the time for the Coronation and the newlyweds knelt before the King and Queen as they assumed their positions. The happiness of their matrimony started to fade as the Queen began to speak to the people informing them of what makes a good Queen. As the Queen spoke, the words settled in Olivia’s mind and she felt herself slowly becoming less happy, something in which Charlie noticed out of the corner of his eyes. He squeezed her hand tightly in reassurance, but it didn’t seem to help. 

“I present to you, Queen Olivia Grace Gillespie” her mother announced as she replaced her tiara with a crown and the crowd erupted in applause. Olivia stood and curtsied to the Queen, then curtsying to the crowd. Owen clapped particularly loud and looked quite smug, something that Olivia caught. She watched him exchange a look with King Jeremy who smiled back at him, equally smug. Charlie’s whisper of her name snapped her out of her thoughts and she knelt back down beside him. The King immediately started his speech about passing the crown to Charlie and the responsibilities he would assume in his stead. Olivia saw him grow increasingly anxious as the King spoke, and she tried to comfort him the way he comforted her, especially when he started becoming fidgety.

“I present to you, King Charles Jeffrey Gillespie, the new King of the Western Kingdom” Olivia watched as Charlie was crowned and stood before her Kingdom who applauded him. He bowed to the King, who whispered something in his ear and all tension and anxiety left Charlie in an instant. The former Queen and new Queen looked at the two in confusion as Charlie turned around to bow at the distinguished guests, and then motioned to Olivia to stand with him for the final announcement. “Presenting the King and Queen of the Western Kingdom!” Everyone stood in applause and the people outside the castle could also be heard as someone announced the end to the official Coronation. After a few moments of applause, Charlie silenced the room with a motion of his hand and everyone took their seats.

“As your new King and a foreigner to this Kingdom, I have thought greatly upon what my first decree as your King would be. I have received a number of suggestions and requests from several honored and distinguished members of your Kingdom. Ultimately, I have decided on one.” Charlie paused, clearing his throat, leaving the crowd waiting in anticipation. “In the time that I have got to understand your Kingdom, I have noticed that the Kings of your past have brought prosperity to the Kingdom. In speaking with your people, I have learned that your Queens have done a great deal as well, but have only been known as the support to the King. We currently live in a time in which traditions in our past no longer support the needs of our future” Olivia looked at him in confusion, realizing that he was quoting her words from last night.

“In order to move forward as a Kingdom, with the interest of prosperity for the people and the nation, I believe that there are some changes we as a nation need to resolve.” Olivia followed Charlie’s gaze to Jeremy and Carolynn who smiled and nodded in agreeance, then to Owen who shared a look with his father, then to the Southern King who nodded in affirmation as well.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” she whispered curtly, looking at her husband. He smiled back at her and took a deep breath.

“My first decree as King of the Western Kingdom is to urge the Nation to agree that Queens shall join the Royal Council and their word should hold equal value to that of their King” 

Olivia's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets as she listened to Charlie’s first decree as King. Gasps filled the room and so did quiet whispers of chatter amongst the guests. Never had there ever been a decree that challenged their Nations traditions before! A tense and uncomfortable moment hung in the air as Charlie awaited to hear the responses from the other Kingdoms.

Jeremy and Carolynn were the first to stand and speak. “As King and Queen of the Eastern Kingdom, we accept your decree.” They bowed and applauded the new King.

The King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom were next to speak. “As King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom, we accept your decree” the applause increased. Charlie looked to his brother and family, who were shocked at the words that left his mouth. Olivia must have thought that Charlie had already chosen his decree and voiced it out to both families, which meant that this came as a total shock. She looked at her father who smiled proudly, but her mother seemed equally off guard. The look of confidence on Charlie’s face faltered as no one stood immediately from his family. His brother stood slowly with his wife and cleared his throat. If King Patrick didn’t accept the decree, then Charlie would have to think of a new one, something Olivia hoped deep down would not happen.

“As King and Queen of the Northern Kingdom, we accept your decree” the applause was deafening and the people celebrated the new decree. Granted there were people in the crowd, like the Viziers who were tremendously confused and her mother who was speechless, but there were also people like Savannah and her father who enthusiastically applauded the choice to break tradition for the better. As the roar of the orchestra commenced, Charlie took Olivia’s hand and walked down the aisle, Savannah following and fixing her train as they walked out of the throne room and to the parlor to get ready for the next part of the occasion. Thankfully, they got to the parlor quickly without anyone stopping them and as soon as the door shut, they kissed each other deeply.

“Did that actually happen?” Olivia breathed as they broke the kiss. Still, Charlie held her close, his forehead resting on hers.

“You and all the Queens that come after you will now be a part of the Royal Council. I told you, everything is going to be okay” happy tears filled her eyes as Charlie held her, smiling. She was preparing herself to never have a say for the rest of her life, but now she got to start fresh with a husband and King that not only loved her, but one that appreciated and valued her.

THE END

A/N: Thoughts?! If I were to add one last chapter to this series, what would you want to see?

tag list:  @ifilwtmfc @warmness0ul @starjane312

[twighlit]

Let Bella Be angry

Isabella Marie swan was a lot of things; an only child, smarter than average, in love with a vampire, but most of all Isabella swan was angry. Anger had replaced all the sadness she had felt since Edward had left. Anger at him, anger at his family, anger at her family, and anger at herself. She was worth more than the way they treated her, worth more than being told what was best for her, and tossed aside when they began to think that they were not. 

Coming home from Italy came with a large lecture from charlie that she mostly blocked out. She didn't particularly care about what his opinion on her actions had been, she did however have a few notes on his. The lecture was about to hit the 10 minute mark when Charlie said the words that started the eruption. 

“I should just send you back to Renee”. Bella was unsure what had come over herself but she suddenly found herself standing. Charlie grew silent as he noticed her growing agitation. 

“You cannot and will not send me anywhere”, Bella's voice was low as she stared her father in the eye, “you do not have any authority over me charlie, and you have run out of time to try and claim any.”. Red began to crawl up Charlie's neck towards his cheeks and he opened his mouth as his eyes hardened at the clear disrespect. Bella's hand was in the air in front of his face before he could say anything. 

“You and Renee left me to raise myself and you do not get to judge my choices now that the raising is done, you do not get a redo.”. Bella took a deep breath and softened her voice. 

“I'm an adult and if you want to remain in my life you need to accept my choices if you cannot do so then i will be out of the house by the end of the week.”. 

Charlie looked taken aback but he knew she would not waiver. It took him almost a full minute to decide if he wanted to press the issue, and in the end he did not. He nodded his agreement to her terms and he felt the shared relief between the two of them as Bella’s shoulders dropped. 

“Okay.”. They stood in silence for a moment before a light knock sounded from the front door. Charlie looked confused but Bella knew who would be behind the door. Alice would have sent Edward to pick her up, hoping that the shorter drive would not grow her anger. She turned towards the door and didn't look back towards charlie as she started to walk towards it. 

Charlie made a choking noise as she opened the door to Edward's forlorn face. Bella did not turn around as she told charlie she was going to the Cullen’s and would be back later. He made a noise as if to argue before her words from earlier came back and he instead settled for glaring at Edward. 

Bella ignored Edward’s attempts to start a conversation as he sped along the roads to his family's home. After his fifth attempt at asking her how she felt, Edward abruptly pulled the car to the side of the road. 

“Bella please say something, tell me what's going through your mind.”. He was pleading and Bella was not moved, how many times had she said the same thing to him before he left? 

“Bella i know you're mad-”. That's what did it, much like with her conversation with charlie these words started an explosion. 

“No Edward I am not mad.”, her voice was level and calm and she turned to meet his black eyes. 

“I was mad when you treated me like scum on the bottom of your shoe a week ago, I was upset when you left me with lies, I was overjoyed to save your life, but now? Now Edward I am Pissed off”. Bella took another breath and squared her shoulders. 

“I am incredibly pissed off that Alice came back only when she thought I was dead, I am pissed off that she still considers herself my friend. I am pissed off that you are still so determined to make this about you. You have learned nothing about this situation; neither one of you, because even now you disregard my decisions. Alice sent you to get me rather than let me drive myself because she wanted you to cheer me up. And you have stopped your car to have a conversation I didn't want to have because you think that you are entitled to me and my thoughts. Now Edward, if you would ever like me to even consider forgiving you, you will start this car and drive to your house, and you will do that in silence. 

Bella was out of breath by the end of her rant and she turned to look out the window as Edward silently started the car and brought it back onto the road. 

The lights of the Cullen house were bright in the darkness as the car came to a stop twenty feet from the front door. Bella threw her door open before Edward could say anything and began her walk to the house. He walked behind her silently almost like a saddened puppy. 

One of the Cullen’s opened the door too fast for her to decide who it was. The six of them were all standing in the living room. Bella had intended to go straight to Alice and give her a piece of her mind the way she had charlie and Edward, but instead as always her attention was stolen by Rosalie and she was surprised to find almost as much anger towards her as she had towards Alice. Halfway through her first step towards Alice she adjusted her angle and looked at Rosalie. 

“I have a few things to say to you.”. Rosalie couldn't hide the shock on her face fast enough even with vampire speed. Bella had never willingly spoken to Rosalie and definitely not so directly. She steeled her resolve and looked Rosalie in the eyes in a way she hadn't dared since she had glared so venomously at her in the cafeteria. 

“You had no right to tell Edward that.”. The blonde's eyes widened and she opened her mouth but shut it quickly as her eyes flicked barely over Bella’s shoulder, she was sure Edward had shaken his head. 

“You do not like me, and i do not care anymore, but since you have decided to hate me so much any information about me should not matter to you, therefore when you called Edward to tell him i was dead you did it specifically because you are selfish, i won't hold it against you because selfishness seems to run in your family-,”, Bella paused as she heard a gasp come from somewhere towards her right; Esme she assumed, “but from now on you are not to bother yourself with any information about me unless you get it from me specifically.”. Rosalie's face had frozen with unnatural stillness but Bella didn't care as movement in the corner of her eye drew her attention to Alice. 

Alice seemed to shrink as Bella glared at her and she felt a wave of calm attempt to take over her mind. She snapped her eyes to Jasper's and glared. 

“Do. not.”. His lip curled instinctively at the threat in her voice but he was quickly back to his passive face with a nod. 

“Bella-”. Her eyes snapped to Alice's and she went silent, seeing what was coming before Bella could speak the words. 

“Do not try Alice.”. Bella's voice had gone tired but the bite was still there.

“You were such a bad friend that you don't get to ask anything of me anymore.”. Alice shrunk back more as she saw Bella’s words moments before she spoke them

“As a matter of fact you would also not concern yourself with me for the time being, i will not play your doll anymore and you will no longer be able to dictate my life in the way you seem to think i gave you permission to do when we became friends. If you can handle that until i decide that I am willing to be your friend again then perhaps we will be able to be again.”. 

Alice's eyes were wide and clear almost as if she was about to cry, she nodded and then grabbed Jasper's hand and disappeared from the room. 

Bella’s shoulders relaxed as the anger left her, now she was tired but her mission was not yet over with. She turned to look at Carlisle for the first time since she had appeared at the Cullen house and he looked sad. She cleared her throat and gestured her head out of the room.

“Can i speak with you alone?”. He seemed to understand what was coming and nodded, releasing Esme's waist and walking at human pace towards the unused kitchen. Bella looked around for a minute to collect her thoughts before looking into the golden eyes of the vampire doctor. 

“The Volturi.”. He nodded and understood what she meant at once.

“They will come for you eventually to see if you have been turned.”.

“I know.”. Bella was almost ashamed to be so rude to the kind man but she had anger still in her mind directed at anything Cullen.

“I don't see much point in delaying the inevitable, but i would like to wait until after graduation.”. There was a sound from the living room as if someone had attempted to walk in and was blocked. Bella was sure that someone had stopped Edward from barging into the room, correctly assuming she had given him the type of speech she had given Alice and Rosalie. 

Carlisle nodded his agreement and a weight fell off her shoulders, suddenly she was exhausted. She gave Carlisle a smile and walked back into the living room. 

“Will you take me home Edward?”. His eyes looked angry but they softened at what she imagined was the dishevelment of herself. 

“Of course.”. 

The silence in the car felt calmer as Bella allowed herself to revisit the conversations from tonight. It was she thought, the first time she had properly stood up for herself. She rather liked the feeling.

Bella turned to Edward as the car came to a stop. 

“I'll call you tomorrow.”. The intent behind the words was clear: you are not welcome right now. Edward nodded with a twisted look of pain on his face. 

“I look forward to it.”. Bella tilted her head in acknowledgment and turned to the door. It had only opened an inch as he spoke again.

“I will earn your trust again Bella, and until you are ready just know I love you.”. A shudder went through Bella’s body hearing him say it but she gave no other outward signs of having heard him. 

Bella turned to look at the car as she unlocked her front door and gave a wave. She was sure she could heal her relationships, but first she had to heal herself. 

[meliaaizawa]

MARRIAGE STORY

Inspired by the intro to Marriage Story, when Charlie and Nicole go over what they love about each other, but Sho and Mei are NOT getting a divorce.

Word count: 1,478

~What I love about Shota~

What I love about Shota… Shota doesn’t care what others think of him. He is sure of himself and his abilities. He is skilled and strong yet is never proud. Shota loves coffee and drinks at least two cups a day… the caffeine doesn’t affect him in any way, he just loves the flavor. Shota is a simple man and is content with the things he has and is never in want of anything new or improved. Though Shota is always grumpy, deep down, I know him to be soft and incredibly kind. Though he rarely lets even his friends see that side of him, I can see through his tough guy act. He especially enjoys cuddling our cats and taking care of them at home. Shota is incredibly fit and healthy. He doesn’t diet… in fact, he usually eats like crap. His metabolism and hero work manages to keep up with him though, so there’s really no need to worry about what he eats. His genuine smile melts my heart, but it can only be seen during rare candid moments. If he actually tries to smile, the result is horrifying… but cute.

Though he’d never admit it, Shota loves kids. He is a wonderful teacher and mentor to so many. He knows the best way to push his students to make them become better. Even if his methods are more strict than the average teacher, he is well meaning. I know he would make the best father. Shota isn’t a fan of PDA, much like me. When we are alone though, he loves touch… whether it’s his arm around me, us holding hands, or even just our feet barely touching under the kitchen table, I think physically feeling that I am with him brings him comfort. Shota can play the bass. He hates playing in front of others, and he doesn’t have any opportunities to do so, so hearing him play is rare. For a guy who doesn’t care about appearance, Shota can be bashful when it comes to the attention of others, especially when he is dressed up nicely. I think he likes his appearance to be overall disheveled so that most people wouldn’t give him a second glance… plus he’s just lazy. Anytime he has to dress up in a suit, he hates it. I think he looks handsome either way.

Though he seems irritable at times, Shota never raises his voice at me and is so incredibly patient in dealing with my indecisiveness. He makes quick decisions, so he is always willing to help where I struggle. He is also the best at giving advice. He thinks everything through rationally and is able to view a situation from every angle when assessing it. Shota is an immense help around the house. He helps me with the dishes and folding laundry and cleaning. It gives us even more time together, even if we don’t say a word while cleaning. Shota is rarely cleanshaven, which I prefer. I always love the familiar feeling of his scruffy face when he kisses me or rests his head on me. Part of me thinks it’s because he’s just lazy, but at the same time I’m convinced he keeps the scruff because I just love it. Shota is a good listener. I don’t always have a lot to say, but when I do, he just sits and listens. He will also comfort me when I am sad and knows just what to say if I am feeling lonely or unworthy.

Shota is an incredibly hard worker. He stays up late nearly every night, either out on hero patrol, or finishing grading his papers. He never procrastinates and gets everything done in a more than timely manner. If Shota cared about ranks, he would easily be in Japan’s top 10 heroes. He is incredibly accurate in the use of his capture weapon, his strategy when going against villains is always spot on, and he makes the most of his quirk, despite its many drawbacks. He is also strong- both in mind and in body, and has saved countless people, even if they didn’t realize it, since he always works behind the scenes. Shota is very eloquent in the way he speaks. He may look homeless, but the man is incredibly smart. He puts a lot of thought into what he says and how he says it. He never wastes his words. He is also not afraid to speak his mind and is always willing to put people in their place if he must.

~What I love about Meiya~

What I love about Meiya… Meiya loves to eat. I don’t know where she puts it all away, as she has an overall fit body, but she seems to always have a pair of chopsticks or a snack in her hand. She always has food in the house. Not just enough for us, but also enough for any unwanted guests that may show up. Meiya has an air of self-confidence. Though I know that she often doubts herself, she doesn’t let it show. She doesn’t care what others think of her and is always genuinely herself no matter the audience. Because of this, others are often comfortable being themselves around her, so she had a lot of friends because of this. Meiya is diligent in everything that she does. She keeps our home clean despite its unorganized appearance, and she always decorates our home in her own way. I never cared about decorations, but our home is more presentable thanks to her. Meiya is loyal to a fault. She trusts others easily, and until that trust is broken somehow, she is fully devoted to that person and would sacrifice herself for them. She likes being unique and never conforms to those around her. In fact, she oftentimes goes out of her way to try and be different.

Though I can be incredibly stubborn, Meiya is constantly patient with me. She knows how to convince me to do things I don’t want to and is usually willing to stand in the gap between me and those I don’t want to interact with. I can’t tell you how many small talk conversations she has saved me from. Meiya doesn’t necessarily need to be romanced in the classical sense of giving her flowers and chocolate. She prefers to just have quality time. A simple kiss on the cheek, a nap together in the sleeping bag, or a bowl of freshly made ramen are enough to remind her how much I love her. Meiya is one of the most competent heroes I know. She is proficient in using many different kinds of quirks, she is a skilled fighter, she cares for others deeply, and is willing to do whatever it takes to protect her loved ones and society. She is also a wonderful teacher. The kids are all just drawn to her, and she is incredibly kind and helpful in the way she helps the students learn more about their quirks.

Meiya loves karaoke. She gets overly competitive when going out with Mic and Ectoplasm. Although she claims she can’t sing well, she has a nice voice, but even more amazing is how well she knows all of the songs and is able to hit every word and note with accuracy. I just enjoy watching. Though Meiya is not a huge cat person, she was willing to get cats with me. She loves them too, though I doubt she would admit it, and she takes time throughout her day to play with them and care for them. Meiya is emotionally strong and a dependable wife. She remains level-headed in stressful situations, and she knows how to support those around her. Despite this emotional strength, she still cries frequently when watching movies. Meiya goes to sleep early and wakes up early, though I am more of a night owl. She will often fall asleep on the couch with me while I grade papers. Even her tired, unconscious presence is enough to make me feel at home. It also gives me the chance to carry her to bed and tuck her in on those nights.

Meiya is a responsible adult, but she is also a child at heart. She would prefer to go to an arcade or festival over a fancy restaurant or party any day. And as far as gifts go, she would much rather have the latest volume of her favorite manga over a piece of jewelry. Along with being a pro hero, Meiya also enjoys dabbling in support things like costume designing. She has an eye for art, and she is good at anything she sets her mind to. Meiya packs us both lunch every day, because she knows I like her food over Lunch Rush’s. We often eat in the teachers lounge, but we also find ourselves on the rooftop, where we used to eat as high schoolers.

[imagine-loki]

Overwhelmed

TITLE: Overwhelmed

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her.

 +

Character is having an uncharacteristically moody week which makes Loki wonder whether or not they’re interested in him, anymore. 

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: Um… so I did a thing… because these two would not let my brain live in peace until this was written. Language, mentions of psychological manipulation (I will kill that bastard in the future, I swear), one very confused boy with self-esteem issues, one very angsty girl with self-esteem issues, some intense making out, implied sexy times.

Related to I signed up for this,  I signed up for this, too & it was his idea.

=

The brief, annoyed mumbles weren’t what concerned Loki on that tepid, tense Saturday afternoon. It was the fact that the person he adored the most in the world was mumbling angrily to herself as she twisted in a well-rehearsed circle (if the slight worn out patch in the carpet was any indication) in front of the mirror. Actually, that wasn’t it, either. His chief concern was that she appeared to be frowning at her reflection with a judgmental look when he knew very well that she was blind.

So, to say that Loki was concerned was actually an understatement.

“What?” Charlie snapped, making him start. He shouldn’t have been surprised–Charlie was getting eerily good at predicting when he was nearby. That, and this had not been the first time she had snapped at him this week.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just watching you,” he replied easily, leaning against the doorframe to watch her resume her “inspection”.

“Ugh. Lord only knows why you would,” she sneered, smoothing a hand down the front of the black and gold floral dress she had on.

Loki sighed.

While Charlie had her occasional bad day now and again, brought on by frustration at not accomplishing a new skill or task, her moods were usually resolved by a tight hug and a pep talk. He might even bribe her with mint chocolate chip ice cream, as a last resort. Her moods, however, had never lasted this long. Nor had she ever actively tried to avoid him as much as she had this week. Some tired demon in the back of his head taunted that she was bored of him and he had to fight to keep it quiet.

Surely, that wasn’t the case, right? He had to believe that Charlie cared for him enough to inform him when she decided that they were through and not just snap at him until he left. Some days it was easier to convince himself. Others, he had to remind himself that her anger or frustration was not about him.

“Why would you say that?” His tone was gentle, and he allowed himself a few steps into the bedroom towards her. He pushed the sleeves up on his white button-up before he crossed his arms.

“I look awful.” She did a quarter-turn and turned her head as if she was glancing over her shoulder, her hazel eyes straying over the entirety of the mirror at her level. Loki swallowed the automatic ‘how can you even tell?’ that was poised and ready on his tongue. He, thankfully, did not have the opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, for she doubled down on her statement. “I’m fat.”

Loki rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You have a plentiful food source, how truly tragic,” he agreed sarcastically.

Charlie scoffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Of course you wouldn’t understand. Thanks, Loki. You’re a real help.” She stomped away towards the en suite. She caught her leg on the very edge of the bed and stumbled, but quickly righted herself back to her path. If the collision hurt, she did not show it.

“Oh, come on!” Loki started after her. “Charlotte, dear–” She slammed the door when he was just shy of the threshold. He thanked his lucky stars that his reflexes were still relatively fast for a mortal, or else his face would be in a world of pain. He bit back a growl of frustration, knowing she would misunderstand his vexation with feeling powerless with vexation with her. That certainly wasn’t the case, he just tired of feeling so utterly useless.

Useless was the correct sentiment. He was truly unsure as to why she was upset or why she had taken arms against her figure, of all things. Charlie was more active than half of New York City, and she ate nothing but carefully prepared meals, as he was hyper-worried about her falling behind in her nutrition. So, maybe he occasionally overcorrected for those three weeks nearly a year ago that she had sought to starve herself. And maybe there was an extra few pounds on her waist that weren’t entirely necessary–but how he adored them. Her body was no less distracting when she settled into his side on the sofa or allowed him to rest his head on her lap while she toyed with his short, shaggy locks. The only thing that kept him in check was his very suspect grip on his self-control.

“Love,” he said in a plea, pressed against the wood of the door, on hand on the knob. “I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. Truly.” There was sniffling at the other side of the door and Loki’s heart ached. “Please. What have I done? I swear to you, I’ll do anything–”

“Just hurry up and break up with me so we can both get on with our lives!”

Whatever calmness remained within him had evaporated. The doorknob jiggled in vain a few times before he managed to force the door with a well-placed shove. Charlie was sitting in the large sunken tub in the corner of the room, face obscured by her curls, head bowed. She hadn’t even flinched at the loudness that accompanied his entrance.

“I am well and truly baffled as to what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he whispered, clambering over the edge of the bathtub and sinking in across from her. His fingers, skimmed her jawline on both sides, thumbs making lazy circles on her cheeks. He gently lifted her head, brushing away stray tears marring her face. Loki understood that she could not see the sincerity in his face, but there was something about forcing her eyes upwards that always seemed to convey his sentiments and push them through her restless mind. “Why would I ever want to be apart from you?”

“Because you don’t like me. Because I’m fat. And boring. And–”

“How could you be so–” He stopped himself just short of saying blind, but her eyes shot up, fiery and hard, regardless, “–wrong?” He pulled a face to himself, knowing he had just landed himself in hot water, but there were more pressing matters. “You know that for a fact, do you? That I don’t like you?” She nodded in his hands and he had to resist making a cooing noise at her adorableness. “Why do you think that, Charlie? Help me understand.”

Loki wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Charlie turning a rather deep (and fetching, he might add) shade of red was definitely not it. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and held it tightly clenched, avoiding speech.

“I’m sorry to ask you this question, but… does this have to do with Ben?”

“No!” She snapped, defensively and Loki had to take a calming breath at the very apparent lie. “A little. He didn’t like it when I got chubbier, either, so–”

“I’m going to kill him,” he said matter-of-factly, already half-way out of the bath before Charlie reached out for his hand and held it in a vice. The frustration was beginning to get to him, eating him alive and corroding him like acid. “Why would you think I had a single thing in common with that cur?” He asked, perhaps a little sharper than he ought to, as she flinched back. His whole demeanor untensed, but he remained anxious. “Sorry, sorry,” he added in a whisper, kneeling down in front of her. “I shouldn’t’ve have raised my voice. I’m sorry. Sorry,” he purred, brushing her hair back with gentle fingers until she relaxed into his chest. “I’m just very confused and, frankly, a little hurt. How could you ever think that I don’t want to be with you?”

“You never…” Charlie trailed off, a heavy sigh sagging her shoulders.

A million permutations of the phrase shuffled through his mind, each one worse than the last. He never was human enough? He never was good enough? He never did enough to fix everything in her life he had wronged? He never told her how much he loved her? He pushed the thoughts aside, going nowhere far too fast for his own good.

“I never…?”

“You know… that…”

“Norns, I wish you came with a dictionary.” His complaint came out like a prayer before he sunk his lips into her plentiful curls to press a kiss there. “Darling, if I knew, I daresay this conversation would be moot.” Loki tilted her head back up to him to stroke her cheek. “Darling?”

A second later, he had lost purchase on the slippery bottom of the tub and barely caught himself before he tumbled backwards. Charlie’s mouth was firmly attached to his own with such fervor that he could barely contain the groan that left his throat at the contact. His fingers itched at the hem of her dress before he managed to convince his arms of moving upwards to rest on her waist. Her hands, however, had fallen to the waistband of his trousers and were toying with the button of his fly. His brain was very quickly going fuzzy at the promise of…

Oh. That.

It took more effort than he was willing to admit to wrench himself away from her sweet-tasting lips. “Charlie, please tell me all of this is not based on the fact that we haven’t slept together.” The way she froze on top of him was answer enough, but, Gods, if she had even a glimpse inside his mind… “I have never wanted anyone more desperately than you,” he murmured against her neck and kissed her there. “But, Charlotte, I hugged you while petting your hair for a little too long the other day, and you cried for over an hour. I do not wish to overwhelm you.” He smiled to himself and he was sure she could feel it against her caramel flesh. “Because, trust me, I want to do so much more than hug you and pet your hair.”

“Are you sure? I still think it’s because I’m all tubby,” she mumbled, her pout very pronounced.

Loki chuckled. This particular rumor he could put to rest at once. One hand glided onto her hips barely resisting pressing onto her with his own. The other tangled in her hair and gripped gently, baring her neck for him to kiss before he nipped at her pulse. She was warm and soft, and the scent of oranges filled his nose intoxicatingly. “Does this feel like I don’t want you?” He husked, and Charlie shuddered, hands opening and closing into tight fists in a nervous fidget.

“Too much! Too much!” She yelped just as Loki had half-bucked into her.

He immediately released her, bracing back on one arm as the other made sure she didn’t slip as she made a hasty retreat off of him. There was a lazy, self-satisfied smile on his face at the ruby red flush that was covering all of her exposed skin.

“Fine. I get your point.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, only drawing attention on the delicate swelling of her lips and the goosebumps rising on her flesh. “I’m going to smack that smirk off of your face, I swear to God, Loki.”

“I’m not smirking, darling. How could I ever?” He responded in a feigned offended tone as his grin widened.

Rolling her eyes, Charlie slipped out of the tub, leaving a giddy Loki staring up at her form. The skirt of her dress swished around her hips and legs with every movement as if by magic. She looked so marvelous and now he had the chore of coming back down from his rush. With a sigh, he fell onto his back and turned his eyes to the ceiling, praying whatever deities were feeling particularly giving for the strength of will to remain as steadfastly patient as he had been without going entirely mad.

His answer fell from the heavens at once.

Onto his lap.

In the form of a black and gold floral dress that he could have sworn a moment ago was…

With a start, he scrambled to peer over the lip of the bath, catching just a glimpse of toasted, tanned skin, sashaying off into the bedroom. The floor between them both littered in the remainders of her outfit, down to the golden necklace she had been wearing around her neck.

Loki stared dumbly for a full minute, before his arms and legs were once again connected to his brain, if a little disjointedly. He climbed out of the bath, one foot getting caught on the lip and causing him to take a spill onto the floor with a pained grunt. Beyond the door Charlie giggled at the commotion and he remembered why he was in such a rush, in the first place. Loki scrambled off the floor, clumsily to join her a second later. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one getting overwhelmed.

[mchalowitz]

the woman is the king, part three

summary: a throughline of the matriarchal scullys; be they ethereal, sharp-witted, and ill-omened.

i’m very excited to finally share this! definitely the most difficult part to write so far and i hope everyone enjoys it!

part 1: melissa / part 2: dana

part 3: emily

read on ao3

@today-in-fic

———

Two years on, sometimes Scully believes she will be able to survive without her other. A forgotten voice travels from immortal nirvana to her brother’s residential line. She wonders if what she tells herself is true. 

1994; the lost year that exists between them. On an evening in March, returning from a field assignment with Mulder, Melissa leaves a message on her answering machine that Scully can still easily recite. 

Things are too hard right now, Dana. I’m safe, I’m with friends in California. I’ll call soon. I love you.

Dana would never have been the golden child. No one surpasses a squid, especially not a fed with some shifty assignment. A shifty fed fares better than a filthy sinner. Charlie wears excommunication with unsweetened pride. And Melissa, the silly new ager, well, she could take no more.

No one thrives at the center of a Scully family scandal. Scully tries to create a rational narrative. It is 1994. Melissa is pregnant; she doesn’t want the baby. She knows plenty of people on the west coast. It was believable. 

Her beloved sister, Dana, is abducted, and in the four weeks she is missing, Melissa gives birth, and the baby is adopted. Dana resurfaces in a hospital; left practically for dead. Her sister returns to stand vigil at her bedside. 

It becomes a question of mindset. Maggie believes Melissa would have told her; Dana disagrees. Subversion of expectations was the ultimate sin for a Scully child as it was a denouncement of the parenting of William and Margaret. She can attest to her mother’s softening on certain expectations since the death of her father. She still disagrees. 

No time for sulking, only pushing through. Working the case through Christmas clearly infuriates Bill. He keeps it to hushed whispers and snide remarks out of Tara’s earshot. Scully often wonders how privy Tara is to anything going on in the Scully family. 

Her infertility stings when she looks at her sister-in-law. With her cancer now in remission, the other medicals horrors Scully faced start coming back to the surface. It is another slap; the thought that her sister gave away such a sweet little girl while she will never carry a child. 

Scully is a mother. She struggles to quantify what Emily is. 

Emily, a living and breathing child, with the face of a Scully, is a violation of her body that someone stole from her, and yet must be fiercely protected. Perhaps Emily is the missing piece. 

Scully hurriedly fills out the application for temporary custody. It consists of the normal, straightforward questions found on any application, until her hand is hovering over that box. Single or married. 

The only thing happening in sunny San Diego is a completely mundane family Christmas, as far as Mulder is aware. Her words froze during her singular phone call. It seems like reaching out now is more of a bombardment than a simple debrief.

Scully is not in a position to presuppose the enigmatic thoughts of Fox Mulder. Yes, it was by his own volition to marry her and she can even believe that Mulder does love her. It is a mutual respect and a fond devotion. It is not spousal love; not a man that loves his wife. 

If she checks the box, Mulder would have to be a father figure to Emily, and it is not her place to make that decision for him. Their marriage was playing house because she was destined to die and Emily does not deserve to be a flour-sack baby in their labyrinthian game. 

Her pen swipes across the paper. Single. 

--

Mulder starts with M. Mmm. Emily tells him so.

Emily leaves the crayons and paper to go to the bookshelf. Mulder is sitting in the chair by the window and she gives him the book. She points to the yellow bird on the cover.

“What’s his name?”

“I think that’s Big Bird,” Mulder tells her. 

Her Daddy only reads her one book at a time, Mulder reads her three. She goes to the bookshelf for more when Dana comes up close to her. “Emily, Mulder and I have to leave now, but we’ll come back tomorrow.” 

Emily looks at Mulder, holding the book, and he says, “I bet you can find a good spot to keep it safe.” 

She nods and sets the book against the bed, fixing it when it slides down. Dana and Mulder leave. A lady makes her pick up her crayons before dinner.

“I’m tired,” she insists, holding the lady’s hand on the way to eat. 

“First dinner, then bed, Emily.”

--

A duality develops in relation to another atrocity to her body. It is a swift punch to the throat; knocking the breath so deeply out of her lungs. It is also as mundane as adding milk to the shopping list; it is only another thing. 

Her brother’s phone line carries mysteries from one location to another. Landline abandoned, traveling well above the speed limit, Mulder drives toward the children’s home. 

“I could have handled it,” she asserts simply. 

“I know.”

Mulder, with his complexity of a hero, and innate ability to act so hoggish. Scully wonders if he really believes that. 

--

Her blanket at home is pink sparkles and has Barbie on the pillows. Emily doesn’t like her new blanket nearly as much. It’s just plain pink.

The lady from dinner tucks her in. “I met Mr. Potato Head,” Emily informs her. 

Emily doesn’t like the other kids in the new place, especially the boy that calls, “That’s not true! Mr. Potato Head isn’t real.” 

“Yes, he is!” she argues. She struggles to sit up with the blanket holding her back. “I met him and he looks like this!” She puffs out her cheeks, making the same face. 

“That must have been very exciting, Emily,” the lady adds softly, tucking her in again. 

The lights turn off. Emily closes her eyes. She feels cold. 

--

In the work Mulder does with Scully, it is often based more on speculation than he would ever like to admit to anyone. It disgusts him to know that if Emily were any other file in his cabinet, it would bring him joy to map out theories and spar with his partner over them. With the empty coffin staring back at them, Mulder can easily assume a thought is something neither of them want to enter their minds ever again. No hypothesizing to be done here. 

Following the funeral, the San Diego bureau fares slightly kinder than their city’s court system. Their California contact, while deeply apologetic for the tragedy that has occurred here, informs them the field office won’t be actively pursuing the case. Aside from following up on a few leads pertaining to the deaths of Roberta and Marshall Sim, it will likely be deemed a cold case. 

“I’m very sorry, Agent Scully,” the agent says, padding his final blow. Emily’s case will not be investigated either. Both Mulder and Scully understand the algorithm that goes into the decision of pursuing an investigation. If the case fell into the FBI mainstream, Emily’s chronic health issues, use of experimental treatments, and her parents’ full cognizance to the risks wouldn’t stand a chance against the process. 

And if there was anything to investigate, it has already been destroyed by powers far outside the reach of some dinky field office anyway. Whatever the reasoning may be, another Scully woman is still failed by the United States government. 

Scully wants the first flight out of San Diego back to Washington and he is more than quick to oblige her. While she very clearly loves the new addition to her family, the sting is just as obvious. 

Two hours down in the air, three more to go, and they have barely said a word to each other since take-off. Scully’s head is turned toward the window when he reaches for her hand. “Scully,” he speaks, very quietly. 

“No,” she responds with a shake of her head, her voice tight. 

Another long stretch of silence and Mulder thinks she maybe falls asleep, which would be a welcome cause for silence, because he isn’t convinced she’s slept more than an hour or two in days. He is about to request a blanket when her forehead presses into his shoulder and the contact reveals her body shaking with the exertion of holding everything inside yet again. 

It’s his fierce need to protect her always that causes him to envelope her body with his. Her arms wind tightly around his neck. Her attempts to muffle her sobs in his jacket is only partially successful. 

A flight attendant taps him on the shoulder and asks him, “Is everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine,” Mulder blatantly lies. “But maybe we could get a glass of water for my wife.” 

It's a rare euphoria to speak those words; his wife. Dana Scully is his wife. A mostly unmentioned fact that gives him a childishly nervous feeling in his stomach. While it never retreated in his mind, it appears to be returning to the forefront of hers. 

In the winding process of applying for custody, a second application exists. Scully’s final plea to unite her with her own flesh and blood. Another document that states definitively that they are married. Mulder underwent a grilling from the judge; a practical bullying on the semantics of their marriage. 

One’s subconscious works powerfully, in his experience, and when he sat in this same position on Scully’s couch six months ago, the answer came to him so clearly. It wasn’t only for her benefit as a life experience that everyone should have the opportunity to have if they so choose; cancer only sped up the timeline of an inevitably. Mulder has never taken a mightier leap with her and she accepted. A singular score for Fox Mulder. 

It’s treated as though it never even existed; his presence in that way completely reverted. He wishes he had more of a chance to prove himself worthy. He wishes he was a less of pussy to actually do it. He will, he’s going to. If she is ever willing to forgive him for all of his transgressions. 

Mulder carried the knowledge of her ova and of what was likely (and now, very clearly) done with it with a heaviness that rivaled the many other weights he lugs around inside him. Scully’s hope for recovery was dwindling then and it was only another way to hurt her. 

It felt criminal to hijack her happiness when she went into remission and her bliss honestly fed his soul. Now, he only piles onto her pain. And if he was any kind of man, if he was someone deserving of someday being a person she would maybe, eventually, love for real, he would have been a lot fucking better. 

The flight attendant delivers a glass of water and a box of tissues on a plastic tray. He takes both and offers the glass to Scully. She scoots forward to the edge of her seat, her back straightened, and it reminds him of Bellefleur, and of that young agent in her red robe, and the fear of simple bug bites. It was the moment of cosmiticity bursting into existence between them. 

Scully sips water, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. His eyes never leave her for the rest of the flight. He drives her home under the glow of streetlights. 

“I can keep you company, if you want,” he offers after insisting he carry her suitcase inside for her. “Might even be able to catch a replay of the Rose Bowl if we’re lucky.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she replies. One hand holds the door and the other is braced on the frame; a universal sign to get lost told through her body language. “I’m going to take a few days. I already let Skinner know.” 

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “Goodnight, Mulder.” 

“Goodnight, Scully.” 

Once the door is shut, he hears the lock click into place. It pains him to walk away. 

Mulder calls Scully in the morning as promised. He calls every morning after. It just rings and rings. 

--

No one is expecting her back in the office until Monday, but by Thursday it becomes increasingly clear that a return to normalcy is what she requires. Scully can only stare at California girls immortalized by ages in threes on her mantel for so long. 

She trades in her bathrobe for a beige skirt with matching jacket and she slugs down the last of a cup of coffee while she packs her briefcase. The landline rings in its cradle next to her hand. Her stockinged feet slide against the kitchen tile as she turns to answer.

“Hello?”

An unfamiliar female voice carries cheerily into her ear. “Hi there, this is Amanda over at Liberty Fertility Center. I’m looking for Fox Mulder?” 

"This is...” Scully starts, and then she pauses, staring up at the ceiling before answering with a restrained sigh. “This is his wife.” 

“I’m following up on a call we received from your husband earlier this week about a sample being stored at our facility and possible ova analysis. He left this as the call back number.” 

Scully clicks her tongue against her teeth, nodding slowly. She barely focuses on the conversation and when it ends, she retrieves the phone book, slamming it down on the table in place of her briefcase. She dials the first promising number in the correct category. 

Heat overtakes her melancholy. Scully is so, so tired of Mulder blanketing his wrongdoings under the guise of protecting her. It has always, ultimately, been her choice to walk alongside him; it was his choice to marry her. He still fills their partnership, their marriage, with secrets. He still withholds. 

She can only imagine what is being done to her ova sitting in some facility.  Mulder didn’t even have the decency to tell her any even remained.

Scully arrives at the office on Friday and Mulder is immersed in a sea of paperwork and photographs. It is only eight in the morning and he already has his jacket slung over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up over his forearms. 

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you until Monday,” he grins with surprised delight. 

Mulder follows her with his eyes as she steps up to his desk. She leans down, kissing him soundly on the mouth, and she observes his dreamy stare when they part.

“I need my ova, Mulder,” she states. Scully pulls a business card out of her pocket; the law firm she called the morning before. “And I want a divorce.”