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sirtommyholland · 4 years ago

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Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life.

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted.

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep.

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again.

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.” she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly.

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.”

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!”

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically.

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile.

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on.

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!”

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage.

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name.

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.”

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake.

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met.

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice.

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.”

“... Morning Y/N.”

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him.

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her.

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.”

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!”

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday.

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine.

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen.

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine.

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions.

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.”

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.”

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.”

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday.

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words.

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug.

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand.

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration.

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay.

some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #happy birthday harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #best friends to lovers #pining

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erectionsandtea · 3 years ago

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Soo I have an idea for party headcanons. How about there would be a concert/music festival/amusement park in Hawkins?

I'm sorry this took so long, there are many reasons, but y'all probably don't care, so just know that I had SO much fun writing these! ❤️

So, I already did some amusement park hcs, which you can find here, but yesuesyesyesyes YeS to the concert/music festival!! 😃

You can find part 2 to these hcs here.

(since there tends to be a lot of drinking and drugs at music festivals (stereotypically), I made the party slightly older here, like mid-to-late teens, which means the "teens" will now be college-aged)

(I really want to write something about people being carried on other people's shoulders but I really don't know if anyone is strong enough 😆)

• The party bEGS hopper to let them use the truck, so they can all sit in the truck bed and therefore get a better view above all the heads in the crowd, since he's gonna be there anyway doing security (he does nOT let them all ride up to the festival in the truck bed tho...or does he ?? Idk)

Hopper reluctantly agrees, and even tho he distrusts everyone mostly equally, he asks the teens to keep an eye on the kids and his truck cos "that truck is police property" and well, who else is gonna do it? Joyce?? No, cos Joyce is gonna hang out with the chief all evening 😉

Hop hands the van keys to Nancy, but Jonathan takes the keys from her later cos he can most be trusted, lol

• Standing up in the truck bed to try and get pictures (Jonathan gets all the actual good pics, tho)

• Will knows his music (thanks, Jonathan), but Mike doesn't know squat except for that one song he really likes...

...which makes Lucas look like a music genius, bc at least he actually knows what band sings his favorite song, lol

meanwhile Dustin only really knows the bands and songs he likes, but nothing else, and Suzie is pretty knowledgeable

so Max and Will teach El about all the good music, and like "okay, this band usually sucks, but this song is amazing!" and also "omg, you're gonna love this one" and "this band is like, the only good one around right now" etc.

• Some vendor or someone is handing out glow sticks for when it gets dark, and Max needs aLL OF THEM, lol, and Lucas is like "well, yeah, obviously"

so they get a bunch of every color, and make headbands, bracelets, necklaces, and generally there are just glow sticks everywhere

• Max and Lucas singing at each other (like in st3), with almost unbelievably-high levels of enthusiasm 😆

Suzie and Dustin singing together

Will and Mike singing together (Will is not a bad singer, but for Mike it's more like...shout-singing, lol, I know Finn is in a band and can sing but my headcanon is that Mike cannot 😆)

Max throwing her arms around El and singing at the top of her lungs, while El is laughing and being like "that's so loud!"

Mike holding both of El's hands and sing-shouting, while moving/jumping around in a weird sort of half dance, trying to get El to join him

also Mike doing that thing where he sings into a pretend microphone

• Someone trying to get by pushes past Max and is rather rude about it, and Max is like "you know, you could say sorry" and then she almost gets into a fight with said someone

Lucas and Dustin have to hold her back

• Some drunk person starts flirting with El and she is overwhelmed by this very forward person, and also confused by what's happening

Mike and Will jump in to confront the guy and defend their gf/sis (respectively), telling him to back off

Max almost gets into a fight again

this time the teens have to intervene, and they manage to do so before things get too out of hand and before security has to be called (bc if Hopper finds out, somebody's gonna get hurt and possibly kicked out of the festival, lol, and then he'd probably go into protective dad mode for the rest of the festival and ruin it for the kids - cos you know kids are embarrassed by their parents)

• So. Much. Vomit.

to get around said vomit, Max piggybacks on Lucas

Will would piggyback on Mike, but we all know Mike has literally no upper body strength 😆 so Will piggybacks on El (she could totally carry him, fight me)

Suzie piggybacks on Dustin

• Also gratuitous nudity, lol (too much) (they say they're so shocked by it that they can't look away, but we all know the reason they actually stare)

• Everyone is disgusted when they see someone using the patch of grass literally right next to them as a pee-spot, so then they need to find a new space

• They witness a proposal happening, and they're like "who tf would propose at one of these things, surrounded by mud and pee and vomit, wtf ???" (no offense if anyone has had that happen, this is not my personal opinion on it, lol, just what I think the kids would think)

• A joint is being passed around (tho it's never figured out between whom), and somehow the party ends up in its path

They are like "uhh" "what is happening?" "should we try it?" "are you gonna do it??" "yeah, come on, I dare you" etc.

Then mamas Steve and Nancy (you know they are the moms, but Nancy would be the fun one, I think, lol) swoop in and grab the joint up and are like "no, uh-uh, this is not for you guys" (remember st2 Steve "yeah, that's a no") and the kids are like "we're 15/16" and the teens are like "yeah, but your father is literally the chief of police, it's not happening"

And the teens end up sharing a bit of the joint before passing it on 😆

• Dustin wandering around the food vendors like "goddamnit, how come there's never any good food at these things?" But there's funnel cakes and he shares one with Suzie

Also *bites into a corndog* "dude, this sucks, HEY, YOUR CORNDOGS SUCK" (Dustin would not get into a physical fight, but he will absolutely let the vendor know that he's selling terrible food)

• the girls totally getting some cute face paint decorations

• Max, Dustin, and Lucas people watching and making bets; "do you think he's gonna notice when he dances right through that puddle and gets his foot all vomit-y?" "Of course he will, it's disgusting!" "No way man, he's way too high" And "how long before her top falls off completely?" "Five minutes" "two minutes" "okay well I say six minutes, alright, closest without going over starting now" And "look at her grinding on that guy, they're totally gonna hook up" "have you been paying attention, she's been flirting with her all day, they're gonna hook up" "guys, it's a music festival, they're gonna have a threesome"

• some super high person handing out flower crowns, and then Mike, Max, and Lucas all do funny poses for the camera (separately)

• El dragging Mike and/or Max around to look at all the vendors

• Elmax singing and dancing to music

• Byler people watching

• Lumax people watching and making fun of them

• glitter somehow gets everywhere, including the van, Hopper is not happy but Joyce thinks it's hilarious

• Will and El being bestie sibs and totally rocking out together (and Jonathan is so proud, lol)

• Will sketching (duh)

Random teens:

• Steve and Robin arguing about which band/song/music etc. is better (I think they have some different tastes)

• Doing that thing where they hold up lighters and sway to the beat

• They will have to figure out another way to smuggle in some beer bc there's no f way they can do it in Hopper's truck (in the end, they just drive separately, lol)

• They brought camping stuff bc hell yeah they're camping out on the festival grounds!

• Nancy really being able to let go and have fun, and literally all three of her friends are like "wow that's hot" lol

• The girls are the most likely of the teens to get into fights, especially drunk Nancy, you know it's true

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lady-amethyst18 · 4 years ago

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I'll hear you sing

Emma paced back and forth in her room. On her bed laid a black choir dress, a fake pearl necklace, and a compact of blush. She was getting ready for her choir concert this evening. But today was more nerve-wracking than ever. Because she was chosen as the lead singer for the last song of the show. She got lots of praise from her teachers and peers, saying that she had a beautiful voice and was perfect for the solo act. She even practiced the song every day to herself and memorized the lyrics all by heart. But when the day finally came, she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle of goo.

What if she froze out there in front of everyone? What if she messes up and forgets her cue? What if she hits a wrong note? What if the audience doesn't like her singing? What if she completely embarrasses herself out there? She started pacing faster. She held her cheeks in her hands, and her stomach started flip-flopping. "Stop stressing, Emma." She said to herself. "Stop stressing!" She repeated. She looked into the mirror, looking at her nervous face. She shook her head and groaned loudly. "I need to go for a walk." She said as she started heading downstairs and out the door.

She walked through the neighborhood, trying to clear her head of the nerves of singing solo for the first time. She still felt butterflies in her stomach, and she could swear she was starting to sweat. Perfect... She was going to look like a mess by the time she gets to the concert. She wondered if she had enough time to take a shower by the time she got back. She brushed her hair out of the way, closing her eyes while still walking. "I have to pull it together. Maybe I can just tell the teacher that I can't be the lead singer. Or perhaps I can just pretend to lose my voice and they'll get someone else to sing. Or-" She was so lost in thought that she bumped into someone. Her eyes shot open as she finally snapped back to reality. "Oh my! I'm so sorry! I-I wasn't paying attention." She apologized. "It's ok. No harm done, dear." Said the voice.

She looked up to see who she bumped into. She followed the red and white pants up to the white and gold cloak until finally, her eyes reached the top of the person's head. A white top hat with a red strap pulled over his eyes. "Balan?" She called. Balan smiled widely upon seeing the young girl. "Emma!" He exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise! I didn't expect to be bumping into you out here."

"I should be saying the same thing." She pointed out. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was just checking up on one of the latest visitors. Their hearts are healing just fine." He looked at the girl, who started to avoid eye contact with him. "But what about you? Seems like your heart could use some cheering itself." Emma rubbed the back of her head. "I just wanted to step out for a moment to clear my head. I've got too much on my mind." She said.

Balan focused on the girl's eyes. They had a look of apprehension and the glistening sweat on her brow added to his suspicion. "Emma," He called out softly. "I'm saying this with love, darling. But you look like you're about to have a heart attack. Why don't you come back with me to the theater? Tell me what's bothering you so much." Emma looked around the corners. The theater is nowhere to be seen. "Uh... Where is the theater?" She asked. Balan smirked as he held Emma's shoulder and snapped his fingers. "Right here!" He announced. It was in the same place where Emma initially found the theater. A brightly lit alleyway through the overgrown vegetation. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at Balan's goofiness. "Now then. Ladies first." Balan humbly opened the door and gestured her inside.

He leads her inside to the lounge area. The room was quiet and well decorated with a dusk color pallet that painted the walls. The chairs and couch had plush red velvet seats with golden buttons as decoration. A water pitcher with a few glasses stood on a tray with several tea flavors and what looked to be a bowl of miscellaneous fruit. "I don't think I've been to this part of the theater. It's nice." Emma complimented. "Why, thank you. Lance and I decorated it ourselves. Why don't you sit down and relax? Take a seat wherever you want." Balan said, taking a seat on the couch. Emma decided to take a chair that was sitting away from the table.

"Now then," Balan spoke, crossing his legs. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? Why is it you look so nervous?" Emma once again avoided eye contact. She clasped her hands and held them in her knees. "I've... Got a choir concert to go to... And I got the part as lead singer for the final song." She replied. "Oh, how wonderful! This must be a big moment for you." Balan cheered. But Emma shook her head. "It's too big!" She exclaimed. "I've never sung solo ever before in my life! I get my teachers and choir classmates like my singing, but what about everyone else? I feel like there's so much riding on this moment!" She stood up and started to pace around again.

Balan just nodded as Emma continued her tangent. "Nervous sweating, fast heartbeat, tense posture, thinking about how the performance could go wrong. Yep. Seems to me you've got a terrible yet common case of stage fright." He spoke up. "You think!?" She yelled back. "What if I hit a sour note?! Or what if I miss my cue?! Or what if the audience doesn't like my singing?! There's too much pressure; I can't stand it! I don't think I can do it! If I have to sing lead, I think I'm going to pass out and die!" She sat back down in the chair, fanning herself and hyperventilating. "Ok, ok, relax. Freaking out isn't going to help. You're going to give yourself an aneurysm, and then what will you do?" Balan stood next to the girl, handing her a paper bag to breathe into. To which she snatched it out of his hand and began huffing and puffing into it.

She continued this for about a minute before she finally caught her breath. The maestro thought this was ultimately a good time to get a word in edge-wise. "Emma," He started. "What if I told you I, too, get stage fright?" Emma paused and looked at him with wide eyes. "What? YOU get stage fright? The maestro of positivity himself get's stage fright?" She asked. Balan nodded. "Yep. Sweating, tensing up, thinking about how it could all go wrong, even getting butterflies in my stomach." Emma looked doubtful. "You do NOT get butterflies."

"No, no! I really do get butterflies. See?" He pounds his stomach and spat out a butterfly. Emma watched in amusement as she watched it flutter away. She tried her best to hide a giggle. "Balan... Th-that's not funny." She said, restraining her laughter. "Oh, come on! You're laughing. Look, I'll do it again!" He pounded his stomach again and spat out another butterfly. A few bursts of laughter left her. "Balan, stop! This isn't helpful!" She laughed. Balan laughed along with her.

"Alright, all joking aside." He said at last. "I used to get terrible stage fright when I was just starting out at helping people restore their balance. I was about... Oh, 300 years old until I finally grew out of it." Emma cocked her head to the side, wondering where Balan was going with the story. "So... How did you grow out of it?" She asked. Balan shrugged. "Oh, it wasn't easy. I could barely get through the introduction without my knees knocking. Sometimes I would get so stressed I would stop rhyming. But you know, after all that time, I was finally starting to enjoy it. The longer you're on stage, and the more you do it, the thought of being afraid kind of dies. I also had a secret hack that could help with my nerves."

"And what was that?" Emma asked.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Uh, sure."

Balan looked back and forth before kneeling down and whispering in Emma's ear. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but I always had someone cheering me on in the audience. And do you know who that was?" Emma shook her head. "It was none other than Lance." Emma's jaw dropped. She knew that Balan and Lance had a sibling relationship, but they were never two peas in a pod. "No!" She exclaimed. "Really? You're pulling my leg." Balan smiled. "It's true. This was back when we were going easier on each other, quite long before the bouts. For some reason, it comforted me knowing he was there. Now, obviously, our relationship has changed over a few millennia, but I never forgot how much he helped me." Emma smiled. It made her heart grow knowing that Lance still had a heart in there somewhere despite being a negative maestro.

"Now, don't tell Lance I said this, ok?" Balan pointed out. "He doesn't want anyone to know he has feelings. He says it will kill his stoic reputation." Emma zipped her lips and held out a hand, telling him that she promised. "I think it's thoughtful that someone would always be in the audience cheering you on." She paused for a second, thinking about what the maestro was talking about. "... Balan," She started. "Would you... Watch my concert tonight?" Balan smiled widely. "Aha! You finally picked up what I was putting down! Of course, I would love to hear you sing! What time does it start?"

"It starts at 6:30."

"Oh, that's an hour and a half from now. We better get you there quick!" The maestro looked at the girl, seeing that she still had sweat on her brow and her hair was messy after panicking about the show. "Hmm... But first, let's get you dolled up before you go to that concert."

The maestro snapped his fingers, making Emma's choir dress, necklace, and blush appear. He draped the dress and necklace over his arm while holding the compact in his hand. "Head to the bathroom and clean yourself up, dear. You still have time to clean up before you go on stage." Emma smiled as he leads her to the bathroom. He handed over the dress and compact as he waited outside for the teenager to finish up cleaning. A few minutes had passed, and Emma took a shower, blowdried and brushed her hair, put on her dress, and applied her makeup.

Balan looked over as she opened the door. "Why, Emma!" He cheered. "You look lovely! Though something is missing." He looked closely at her, trying to pinpoint what was missing. "Oh!" She announced. "My necklace! All the girls in the choir are meant to wear these fake pearl necklaces." Balan dangled the necklace with his fingers. "You're meant to wear these?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Balan scoffed. "You're not going to wear this! The star doesn't deserve FAKE pearls. Come here; I have something better." He tossed the fake necklace aside. He clasped his hands together and rubbed them firmly. When he opened his hands, a real pearl necklace appeared. Emma stood in awe. "Wow! Is this real?" She asked. Balan smiled with pride. "It's the genuine article. May I?" Emma nodded as Balan put the necklace around her neck. "There you go!" He said. "Now you're perfect!"

Emma's smiled widened. She already began to feel much better. "You promise you'll be there when it's my turn to sing?" She asked. "Cross my heart." The maestro promised as he made an X mark around his heart. "Now, go on. Your teachers and peers will want to see you. I can't wait to hear you sing." He said as he leads her to the door. "Thanks, Balan. I hope to see you there." She said as she left, hoping the maestro would keep his word.

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

The concert was nearly over. It was time for the final song and Emma's lead role. She scanned the audience, looking for the top-hatted being. "Emma!" Called out a voice. It was Emma's choir director. "Are you ready for your solo?" She asked. The girl looked away. She felt her chest get tight, and she felt butterflies in her stomach again. "I'm... Expecting someone. In the audience. They promised they'd hear me sing. I can't find them." She continued to scan the audience, hoping to find her friend.

The director knelt down to her level. "I know you're nervous, Emma. But I'm sure that your friend, whoever they are, are out there in the audience right now, just waiting to hear your voice. And I know you'll be the brightest star out of anyone tonight. Have confidence in yourself, sweetheart." The whole choir group started going on the stage. "Take your place, Emma. Don't be scared. You can do it." The teacher held up two thumbs as Emma climbed up on stage.

As the curtains pulled away, the audience clapped their hands. Emma took a silent but deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. As the music started, she heard a slight sound. Her eyes wandered the auditorium until she looked in the front row. A man with seafoam green hair and a handsome white face with purple eye shadow. It was Balan! He undid the glamour for her. Seeing him, her heart instantly lifted as she started her song.

Emma could feel every ounce of nervousness melt away as she sang the lyrics. The more she carried on with the song, the less she noted the people in the auditorium. Dare she say it, she was enjoying herself. When the song was over, the crowd stood up and cheered. A single rose was thrown on stage. Emma picked it up and looked at the man in the front row. Balan clapped his hands and winked at her. Silently telling her, he knew she could do it. The teenager held back her tears of joy and smiled widely as she bowed for the audience.

#balan wonderworld #fanfiction #Emma Cole #Balan

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harryskalechips · 5 years ago

Text

This sucks Part 2

A/N Here is the new part two for this sucks. Thank you for all the feedback and for calling me out for the shitty ending of the last version. I rewrote this part with a mixture of the old one. I’m not sorry about the last version but I did want to rewrite this and give this one-shot some justice. I thought this would be more appropriate for our plot. Lastly, I want to say thank you for your support. Without you, I would not have a place to share my work. Anyways, if you read the last version and is content with that, You don’t need to read this but for my lovely angsty cravers. I serve you a full plate of depression. Enjoy xxx

Word count 3456

Part 1

“Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Harry slurs to his guitarist as he tries his best not to fall back onto his hotel bed. He kept tripping and stumbling onto the mattress and that’s exactly why he doesn’t want it to happen again.

“Dude, you have a show tomorrow. You’ve been getting drunk every night and I don’t think it’s good for your career.” Mitch leans on the side of the wall with his arms crossed. His sarcastic reply just showed how tired he was about Harry acting out. He missed the last tour when everything was good... despite his breakup with Camille in the near end. At least, Harry wasn’t trying to drown himself in alcohol that time.

“You don’t know what’s best for me!” Harry grips onto the desk in front of him and reaches over his bag to grab the beaten journal. “Now leave me alone, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ve never seen you this fucked up before, Harry. You know we’re all here for you.” Mitch shares his disappointment as he watches Harry throw himself on the couch and dive into his journal. When Love on Tour first started, he was very quiet but as the shows progressed, Harry’s frustration began to seep through. Everyone could tell he was angry at himself. Obviously, heartbroken.

As Mitch stood in the corner of Harry’s room observing him, Harry tried his best to write something on the paper. He needed it to seem like he was focused. After a couple minutes, his friend leaves the room making Harry rub his face in relief as he throws his journal on the floor.

Fuck this. fuck this. He repeats in his head as he raises his hips in the air, trying to grab his phone from his back pocket. His eyes are lazily open as he taps on the screen searching for the green phone app. He looks for his favourites and out of fake shock, he stares at the only name on it. Y/N.

Giving a call once a day showed Y/N, he wants her back but calling her multiple times a day? Y/N had to know he was desperate.

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected.

The automated voice he hears every time repeats. It almost felt like she was laughing at him for being so pathetic. Out of anger, he tosses his phone on the floor and lays on his stomach. It felt weird being so angry and sad at the same time about a relationship that only lasted for four months but Harry knew it was the best relationship he has ever had. So maybe everyone can fuck off a bit because he just lost his girlfriend without actually being able to fight for her.

“Harry, you haven’t been answering your sister or your mum. They’ve been calling me to check up on you. Would you like me to schedule a time for you to call them.” Harry’s secretary Andy, asks him as they approach his private jet. They’re on their way back to America since he had just finished the European leg.

“No, but next time they call, tell them I said to fuck off.” Andy nervously swallows the lump in her throat and nods.

It’s been months! Months after Harry and Y/N’s break up but Harry can’t help but still feel anger at his family for being so close-minded. For hurting her.

“Harry, Camile has also been calling. She’s wondering what show would you like to see her at so we can send her y’know… the tickets.” Harry just scoffs at hearing his ex’s name. Of course, he started talking to her again early this year but after realizing he was in the wrong, he wanted nothing to do with her.

“Ignore her. I can’t talk to her.”

“Alright.” Andy types on her phone writing down something on her notes. Harry just takes a big sigh and looks out the window. Tour could’ve been fun this year. He could’ve brought Y/N to France, to Italy, to Brazil! But I mean, he couldn’t even be with her in London after she left his stupid ass. Gosh, he hates it here.

“When I wrote this song, I was in a dark place after a relationship of mine ended.” Harry darkly looks around the arena as he fixes the wire of his mic behind him. “I’m a very private guy but let me share one more thing with you all. I fucked up. This song is not even what I’m talking about but it does make me a bit sadder because I did become that guy I didn’t want to be.” His eyes couldn’t help but tear up as he watches his fans look at him in sadness. Fuck, he’s been drinking all the time and all he feels is guilt because these past shows, he was pretending to be happy. Yet he knew he wasn’t even close to that feeling and so did everyone around him.

As the familiar keys began to play, Harry couldn’t help but not look at any of his fans. He had to close his eyes and feel his pain.

I’m falling again, I’m falling again. I’m falling.

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected.

Harry rolls his eyes and tosses his phone on the couch. Tonight is his last show in North America. After this, he’s going to be heading south although, it already feels like he’s been heading in that direction for a long time.

“Come in,” Harry yells out coldly as he looks at himself dressed and ready to go to perform tonight.

“It’s just me, Jeff.” His manger lets himself in as he looks at the boy. “The Forum. Remember performing here the first time you released the album.” Harry just nods as he plays with the loose thread of his journal.

“She’s here tonight.” Harry chokes on his breath as his heart beats faster.

“Y/N?” He looks up immediately as he watches Jeff very carefully. “She’s here tonight?” He asks again for confirmation. Maybe, he heard him wrong?

“While we were in London and you were ignoring your family, I decided to give her a call.” Harry just scoffs as he glances at the TV of his fans singing to one of his old songs.

“You called her? She probably thinks I’m pathetic.”

“You are pathetic! Do you think I don’t know you call her all the time?”

“Her phone number isn’t even in service.”

“Exactly. Pathetic.”

“Where is she sitting tonight?” Harry decides to change the subject as he glances at his phone on the couch.

“Premium... more on the left side. Look, dude, I gave her an extra ticket to bring a friend but as I was checking in with Mark on visuals, I noticed her with a guy.”

“She brought a guy?” Harry couldn’t help but fist his hands. I mean he’s already had about 60 shows and it’s been 5 months but why did it surprise him, she’s here with another man? Funny to think she claimed she was falling in love with him. Maybe that guy was just a friend but he knew otherwise.

“I’m sorry H. I thought seeing her tonight would fix your relationship but it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I don’t care.” Harry loses his tie. “Maybe, it was a good idea I started talking to Camile again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh but I do.” ~

The show was on full swing now as Harry’s fans were screaming and cheering for him. His hands leave his mouth as he blows kisses to everyone in the room. As he searched the crowd throughout every song, he noticed how some faces were familiar to him. They must’ve been here last night too. After watermelon sugar, Harry turns his back from the crowd to take a drink as Mitch plays his solo for the tour.

He didn’t want his fans to see his frustration but he was losing his mind.

“Where are you going?” Sarah loudly whispers as she watches Harry walk off the stage.

“I’ll be back” He cuts her off and takes his water bottle with him as he quickly walks off the stage, waving to his fans.

“Harry, what’s up?” Jeff exclaims as he rushes to his side. “Do you need anything?”

“Where is she? I can’t find her.”

“Do you expect yourself to catch eyes with her tonight? You know full well that’s not even possible.” Harry rolls his eyes as he watches some of the workers moving around.

“Get someone to lead her backstage after the show.” He instructs Jeff coldly. He needed to make sure that Jeff followed through with this.

“Mr. Styles, we’re going to need you back on stage.” An unknown girl with a headset interrupts their conversation. Harry just nods as he turns away from Jeff.

“I need to talk to her... please.”

***

“You alright babe?” Robbie wraps his arm around Y/N as she smiles back without a response. It was weird being in the presence of another man during Harry’s concert. She always expected to be by herself watching him. To be with him before and after the show but tonight... she’s just another fan.

Y/N met Robbie on her flight back to LA after a dreadful trip to London. It was depressing. Walking in the streets alone. Taking awkward selfies at the big ben. What she hated the most was the sad frown she kept on her face or how her heart grew with anxiety when she asked a stranger to take a picture of her at the tower bridge.

“Sorry everyone, I had to take a wee.” Harry runs back on stage as he gives off a smile to everyone. For some reason, Y/N had a feeling he was lying. Usually, he would run back on stage but it seems like he wasn’t even in a hurry. The wrinkles on his forehead as he stared at the floor made her think there may be more on his mind than what he’s showing.

“So usually in this part of the setlist, I would be singing Cherry but tonight, I wanted it to be a bit more special. I’ll be singing Don’t Let Me Go. A song I wrote back late 2012’s. Luckily, Mitch and Charlotte already know how to play it.” (A/N This makes me sad ugh)

Don't let me

Don't let me go

Cause I'm tired of feeling alone

“Can’t believe you know this guy, babe! He’s amazing!” Robbie crosses his arms as he takes a sip of his beer. Y/N holds onto the rail, trying to not breakdown. “Hey, Are you crying?” Her boyfriend reaches out to her as she watches Harry looking at them. She doesn’t think he can see them but the way he kept glancing at the area she was in, he knows she’s here.

“Yeah, it’s just a really sad song.”

“Ms. L/N?” A woman with a headset approaches the couple.

“Yes.”

“Hi, I’m Amanda, Mr. Styles would like you backstage after the show.” Robbie flashes a big smile as he looks around them hoping no one is noticing their interactions with the lady.

“We’ll be there.” Robbie cuts in as he wraps his arm around his girlfriend. Y/N tenses up as she awkwardly smiles back at him.

“Actually, his instructions were very clear and he only wants Ms. L/N.” Her eyes widened as Robbie pulls away from her.

“Thank you.” She smiles and glances back at Harry.

“I’ll have someone get you during our last song.” and with that, Amanda walks away while Robbie coldly glares at Harry who’s taking a sip of water as the song comes to an end.

“Is there something going on between you guys?”

“No.”

“Why does he only want to see you? You never even told me how you two met!”

“Okay, Robbie. Calm down. I’ll explain later. He and I are just friends.”

Y/N follows the boy down the hallway as she hears Harry’s fans chant out his name. It’s been months since she had seen him and if she was being honest, Y/N never thought she would again. But Jeff sounded so sad and concerned about him that she wanted to see him. Despite breaking all her ties with him, She still thinks about him every day.

Y/N looks at the TV screen and notices the lights were now on and Harry and the rest of his band were off the stage. Robbie is probably sulking as he walks to his car right now. She thinks to herself.

The door harshly opens as Harry comes in all sweaty. “Hey.” Y/N waves at him as she quietly sits on his couch. He takes his jacket off and hugs her without another word. “You’re so sweaty.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she feels his familiar embrace. Maybe, laughing would ease off the awkward tension.

“I missed you Y/N.”

“I missed you too H.”

“I never thought I would see you again.” He sits on the couch beside her and runs his hand through his hair.

“I’ve always been excited to see one of your shows live.” She couldn’t help but brush her hair out of her face. Here is the man she was falling in love with. The man she chose to forget.

“How did Jeff get in contact with you? I tried calling your number a few times and it wasn’t in service.” Harry bit his lip at his question. He knew full well he called her number at least three times a day.

“I keep in touch with Glenne.” She watches Harry scoff. “What?”

“You can keep in touch with her but you can barely talk to me?”

“Our trip to London was a sign that we shouldn’t be together, Harry.” Y/N couldn’t help but get flashbacks from her traumatic trip. She was so excited to meet his family, only to find out they already hated her before she stepped foot inside their house.

“That trip was not how it was supposed to go. I had plans to make you so happy.”

“That’s funny since the only plan that came through was me finding out you started talking to Camile again.”

“Did you mean what you said to my mum?” He ignores her last comment as he watches her carefully. She shrugs her shoulders in confusion then it suddenly hits her… he’s talking about London. “I heard it all.”

“Oh.” She looks away from Harry and stares at the pattern of the rug in his change room. “Yeah, I meant every single word.” Y/N plays with her cuticles trying to keep herself from remembering that sad trip.

“I’m sorry about what happened. Camille was a big part of my life and I wanted to start seeing her again. Not like romantically but the way I still talk with Kendall.”

“It’s okay. I think it needed to happen.” Harry’s eyes flash in confusion. Last time, he spoke to her, they were so sure that this relationship would work out. Now, she’s managed to change her whole idea about them and that hurt a lot. Especially since she’s all he thinks about.

“Why would you say that?” He stands up in anger.

“Harry. Your mom and sister hated me! You clearly have or had feelings for Camille and you were going on tour We wouldn’t have worked out!”

“Are you blaming me?” He crosses his arms. He was offended.

“No.” Y/N rubs her face in frustration. “It was nice what we had, Harry. Believe me but now we can’t be together.”

“What? Why? Because you have that stupid prick as your boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Y/N stands up as well, preparing herself to leave. He grabs his journal from his vanity and opens it. He flips the pages as Y/N watches him in confusion.

He rips random pages out and crumples them. He takes her hands and forces her to take them. “I’ve been in love with you! Goddammit, just take me back!”

“Harry…”

“Look, I have more! I’ve been writing about you every day. I’ve been writing songs about you.” He looks at his journal one more time before closing it and throwing it on the floor. “I wrote this whole damn book about you!”

Y/N begins to cry as she watches the strong man she has always known break down in front of her. “I can’t… Harry. Please.” He goes on his knees and takes her hands full of crumpled paper.

“You never even gave us a chance baby. Fuck, I should’ve stopped you the moment you walked out that door. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Y/N couldn’t bare herself to look at him as she feels his hands on her.

“You should have gone with me to the store that day. I should’ve shown you around my town! Now I can barely talk to my family because they remind me of who I lost. What I lost!”

“Harry. I don’t want this anymore. I’ve always been scared of our relationship. I can’t handle this.” It’s true. She watched romantic movies her whole life and the more she admired those types of relationships, the more she didn’t want one herself. Y/N knows her life isn’t a movie but if Rachel McAdams cried her heart out during The Notebook while in character, she can’t imagine what else Harry can throw at her so she can experience that type of heartbreak. She needed a clean break from him. Robbie was her safe choice.

“I love you, please.” He shakes his head in frustration. “I dream about you. I think of you. I need you!”

“I can’t!” She shakes her head as she tries to help him up. She takes the crumpled paper and runs to his vanity as he stands behind her, confused. She eagerly tries to flatten them out. She bends down to grab his journal and tries to place each page back in the book.

“What are you doing?” He approaches her. “Those are for you!”

“No Harry! These are for you. I need you to keep these. I need you to remember us.”

“I need you to remember us.” He whispers and grabs her wrist to stop working. “You forgot about me.”

“I had to. I needed to.” She looks at the mirror and watches his eyes in the mirror.

“I thought we were stronger than this.”

“It’s been five months. You should move on too, H.” She pulls away from Harry and continues to fix his journal. She remembers the nights he would write in the leather book. How calm he looked. How happy he was.

“Just admit it then! You took the first problem that occurred and used that to leave me!”

“Fine! I did! I admit it!”

“You’re just as bad as me then!”

“You were in love with Camille!!”

“Then why do I feel like dying every day ever since you left me!”

The silence makes Y/N’s heart beat faster as Harry finally lets out his last thoughts. He takes hold of her hips and pulls her in close to him. He glances once at her lips then stare at her eyes.

Y/N didn’t know what to do. Her mind was screaming at her to pull away from him and leave but her heart wanted something more. Ironic enough, that familiar thump in her heart has always been present. The guilt she felt when she first started dating Robbie. The ache she felt when she watched Harry’s interviews late at night. Now, it was asking for something different. Something more. She holds onto the back of his neck as she kisses him. Harry pushes her back onto his vanity, helping her sit on it.

Lips so familiar. Taste so heavenly. A scent so intoxicating. He needed more. She missed him.

“I’m sorry fuck I’m sorry.” Y/N pulls away and pushes his chest a bit lightly.

“Tell me you don’t love me anymore. I’ll let you go.” He lets out. He was hoping that it wasn’t true. This would be the only way to trap her into admitting that she wants to be with him again. He’s selfish. It’s true.

“You know that wouldn’t be true.” Harry’s heart skips a beat.

“So, stay with me. I need you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I love you but I can’t.” She moves off a bit and hops off his vanity. She takes a deep breath and looks at him. “I think you’ll find someone for you.”

“Do you love Robbie?” He ignores her last statement. Truth be told, Y/N doesn’t. She began dating him two months ago and all she thinks about is Harry.

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m lying! Harry, please don’t let me go through this again.”

“I’m sorry. I just hate seeing you walk away from me.” She gives him a soft smile as she takes her phone from her pocket.

“I have to go. Robbie just texted me. He’s angry.”

“Will I ever see you again.”

“Probably not.”

“So what? You’re going to keep avoiding me from now on?”

“I think I might have to. Take care H. Take care of yourself, please.”And with that, Harry watches Y/N walk out of his life for the final time.

He takes his journal and walks to the couch. He lazily slouches as he takes a random paper out. It’s about her, of course, it is. He places the sheet on the top of his heart and closes his eyes. “This sucks.”

Maybe, this was the closure Harry needed but for some reason, his heart was hurting more.

part trois

#Harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanifction #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst #one direction #one direction one shots #blurbs

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supercalvin · 5 years ago

Note

breaking the rules but 5WR for the prompt thing? i was just thinking they went well together and you’d be able to do something crazy awesome with it :)

5. High School AU + W. Pretend Relationship + R. In Vino Veritas

There are no rules here, friend. You can do whatever you want, and I certainly love this combination of tropes+AU. Have I ever mentioned that High School AUs are a guilty pleasure of mine? Which is probably why this turned out so long. Omg why can’t I write 500 word ficlets anymore???

Prompts (or any prompt) + Ficlets

***

Lance had invited Merlin to this party, which was the only reason he was here. It wasn’t that hed didn’t normally go to parties. He did. It’s just he usually hung around a different crowd. Will’s parties were smaller, usually no more than ten kids sitting around his living room, staying up too late, playing video games, and maybe baking some of Freya’s weed into badly made brownies.

Lance, on the other hand, was the type of person to get along with a lot of different people. So not only was he close friends with Merlin, but he also happened to be friends with people in the drama club, the student council, and the football team. To be fair, it was hard not to like Lance.

So Merlin didn’t usually go to crazy house parties filled with football and rugby players. He was beginning to wish he had made Will come with him, even though he knew Will would just complain the whole time. Merlin was chatting with Elyan, a bloke he knew from maths class, trying his best to not seem out of place. He sipped on his beer, and prayed Lance would come save him at some point.

“Hey, it’s Merlin!”

To say that Merlin was surprised when Arthur Pendragon flung an arm around his shoulder and smiled at him would be an understatement. To say that Merlin was surprised Arthur Pendragon knew his name and apparently was happy to see him, was an astronomical understatement.

“Hey,” Merlin smiled, trying his best to seem nonchalant. Arthur smelled strongly of cologne, and Merlin had to mentally remind his tipsy-brain that saying ‘you smell good’ would be supremely awkward.

“Lance said he invited you,” Arthur said, still smiling at him. “I’m glad you made it.”

Merlin shrugged, “Why not, I guess?”

“Arthur!” Someone from across the kitchen yelled, “Where are the towels?”

Arthur groaned, “Bunch of children. I’ll be back,” Arthur tussled Merlin’s hair, playfully.

“That was weird,” Merlin said.

“Was it?” Elyan asked, “Arthur’s just like that when he gets more than one beer in him.”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with him. I didn’t know he knew who I was.”

Elyan tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t you have history with us last year? You know, with Mr. Garrah?”

Merlin thought back. Maybe he had. But he hadn’t spent much time with Arthur. To say the least, Arthur Pendragon was the Golden Boy oftheir school. He was certainly one of the most popular kids. He was a star footballer. Alright enough in his classes, from what Merlin could tell. Definitely was fit. God forbid if Merlin forgot how fit Arthur was. Merlin was bisexual and was very aware of the fact that in a few hours it would hit him that ArthurPendragon had just been pressed up against him.

But, Merlin reminded himself, he was the only out-and-proud kid at school. And no matter how much Merlin drooled over him; Arthur Pendragon was in a serious relationship with Gwen Smith. Merlin had known Gwen since his first year in Camelot. They had kissed during a Truth-or-Dare game at Will’s back in Year 9. He hadn’t spent much time with her lately, since their schedules didn’t line up, but he assumed if Gwen liked Arthur, then he must bealright.

The party continued for another hour or so, everyone loosening up as more beer was drunk. Merlin mingled with people he had never talked to before and if he was being honest he was having a great time. Merlin wasn’t drunk, per se, but he certainly wasn’t sober by the time Arthur crossed hispath again.

Merlin was sitting on a couch, and Arthur plopped himself down right next to Merlin.

“Hey, you like Triple Goddess, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Merlin asked, not sure how Arthur would know his favorite band.

“You wear their concert shirts a lot.”

Merlin wasn’t sure how often he wore Triple Goddess shirts, but he wondered if it was too much if Arthur noticed them.

“I looked them up after I saw your shirt. They’re really nice to listen to while I study. They’re really low-key,” Arthur said.

“Yeah, I listen to them while I code,” Merlin said, wondering too late if it was too nerdy to mention that he liked to write his own computer programs. He tried to cover it quickly, “I haven’t listened to their new album yet. Haven’t the time.”

“I have it upstairs, if you want. Come on,” Arthur stood up and offered his hand. Merlin took it without much thought.

Upstairs was less crowded. Most of the doors were closed andwhen Arthur pulled out a key to open his bedroom door, Merlin figured that was how Arthur managed to keep things from getting out of hand. It didn’t click that Merlin would be alone with Arthur until the door closed behind him.

Arthur pulled out his laptop and popped open the album. The noise from the party was much more subdued in Arthur’s room, and the low sounds of piano and violin came through clearly. Merlin looked around the room as themusic played, unsurprised to see a football banner along with an action movie poster. The desk was scattered with books and the bed was a rumpled unmade mess. Arthur obviously hadn’t expected anyone here tonight. Merlin wondered if Gwen was at this party. He hadn’t seen her. Probably not, if Arthur was here with Merlin of all people.

“Isn’t the lead singer of Triple Goddess gay?”

Merlin chewed on his nail nervously wondering if this was a trick question. He tried to remember that Gwen was a cool person, and she wouldn’t date a homophobe. Hopefully.

“Yeah, she is…” Merlin said, “And the drummer is trans, actually.”

Arthur hummed. He was leaning against his desk, flipping around one of his books. He looked nervous, which was strange to Merlin.

The song changed and the beat was mellower.

“Is that, uh, why you got into the band?”

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, “Actually, yeah, that’s how I found out about them. They have a music video with two guys, uh, you know, together.” Merlin shrugged. He hadn’t talked much about his sexuality with anyone besides Will or his mum. He wasn’t sure why Arthur was asking. Maybe he was just trying to make conversation with what little he knew about Merlin.

“Yeah, I saw that one.”

Merlin rocked back on his heels.

“So…” Merlin struggled to think of anything he knew about Arthur. But before Merlin could ask about football, and absolutely stick his foot in his mouth, Arthur beat him to it.

“I’m glad you came. To the party. I told Lance to inviteyou.”

“What? Why?”

“I, uh,” Arthur looked up, like there was going to be an answer on the ceiling. “Shit, Gwen said this was going to be easy.” He set down his book and stepped up close to Merlin. He cleared his throat. “I think you’re fit. And smart. And I know we don’t really know each other, but I’ve never had a good reason to talk to you before.”

Merlin blinked at him.

He took several seconds to process all that.

“Sorry, what was the first one?”

Arthur smiled, “I think you’re fit.”

“B-but what about Gwen!” Merlin stuttered.

“Oh, right.” Arthur said, as if he had forgotten about his girlfriend. “I’m her beard. Or we are each other’s beards? Doesn’t matter. She’s dating my step-sister Morgana. We told our Dad that she’s dating me, so that when she stays over, she sleeps in Morgana’s room. It’s a nice set up.”

Merlin blinked a couple times.

“Uh. Merlin?”

“I think I’m going to need a moment,” Merlin held up a hand. “You’re gay?”

“Yeah,” Arthur shrugged and gestured to himself, as if that cleared that up.

“Holy shit, thank you Jesus,” Merlin said, before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Arthur laughed hard and Merlin smacked his shoulder when he wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck off, you know you’re fit! Don’t torture me.”

“You think I’m fit?” Arthur asked, seeming to be truly interested in the answer.

“Uh, yeah,” Merlin said, trying to suppress a nervous giggle.

Arthur smiled, and Merlin noticed that his teeth weren’t completely straight. There was something charming about him that had butterflies flutteringin Merlin’s stomach.

“So, uh, I’m not out to my Dad. But uh, would you like to, Idon’t know…We could see a film. Or you could come over and we could play some video games? Or something.”

Merlin smiled, “Yeah, I could do that.” Merlin stepped up closer to Arthur, suddenly feeling very brave. “How do you feel about snogging for a bit before going back down to the party?”

Arthur’s eyes widened, “Really?”

Merlin raised a brow.

“That wasn’t a ‘no.’” Arthur said quickly, “I’m just, uh… I’ve never kissed a boy.”

Merlin smiled, “Want to?”

Arthur nodded, “Yeah,” His eyes trailed down to Merlin’s lips. It didn’t take much movement to tilt his head to the side and pull Arthur into a kiss.

When they made it back down to the party, no one seemed to notice that their lips were red and chapped. Merlin had a bit of a bruise on his neck, but he would just cover it up with a scarf tomorrow.

***

Prompts (or any prompt) + Ficlets

#merlin #merthur #merlin fic #ficlets #Anonymous

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years ago

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For You: 4 O’Clock

Taglist: @jineunwootrash

If you would like to be added to any of thos blog’s taglists, please ask!

Chapter 10: The Light in the Darkness

Lei’s POV

The night before our Atlanta concert, while everybody was gathered in his room to watch the conclusion to his and Mark’s Mario Kart Tournament, Baekhyun decided that we weren’t having the “real Atlanta experience” unless we ate some of the local food together.

“Come on Lei!” Baekhyun said before dragging me off his bed, where I sat, laughing with Lucas when Mark took the title of champion after Baekhyun’s attempts to cheat failed. “We haven’t bonded since the camping trip!”

From the way he smiled during our ride in the elevator and while holding open the door to his car (another perk of being the leader: having independent means of transportation) for me, I expected that Baekhyun had whisked me away from the group to taunt me about Momhae.

The closest he came to teasing, though, was wiggling his eyebrows as he asked, “What’s the matter, Lei? Did I interrupt an important romantic conversation with Lucas?” Baekhyun looked so much like a little boy as he situated himself behind the steering wheel, I had to laugh at him. “Okay. So where are we going, Lei?”

Glancing at the time blinking on the radio display, Baekhyun sighed. “Well, shit, what’s even open at this hour?”

It was only 9 o’clock. Maybe it was a starless night, or maybe the city lights drowned out the stars. Still, I tried to look for anything in the sky— Baekhyun even reached up to slide some part of the ceiling to reveal an overhead window— as I answered, “A lot is open, Baek. Atlanta’s a busy city, ya know?”

I found the moon— full and distant— and Baekhyun asked, “Well, what do you want to eat?”

“What do you think the others would like?” Feeling like Baekhyun was looking at me, and therefore probably making some goofy face, I glanced over at him and was surprised to find that he was focused intently on the road ahead.

He shrugged. “Who cares what they want?” Then, as if he hadn’t dragged me along on his nighttime adventure without giving anyone else a chance to tag along, Baekhyun said, “If they wanted to have a say-so, they should have come with us.”

Baekhyun flashed that goofy grin again, and I bit back my laughter to admit that my favorite restaurant was probably Buffalo Wild Wings. So that’s where we went, and that’s where Baekhyun discovered the “Blazin’ Wings Challenge” and decided that it would be absolutely hilarious to prank everyone with the hottest wings served.

Maybe I should have done more to discourage his chaos. Maybe he wouldn’t have listened to me anyway. Maybe I was a little too surprised that he ordered chicken tenders and mozzarella sticks— my all-time favorite— for me (without having been prompted) to say anything.

Anyway, Baekhyun concealed his laughter pretty well until everyone, initially excited that we returned with food, shrieked after taking bites into their wings.

“What’s the matter?” Baekhyun chuckled from his place beside me on the carpeted floor. “I got the mildest ones on the menu! All of you are just sensitive!”

Taeyong was the only person who could take the heat. Wiping sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin, he asked, “Have you guys noticed that something is going on with Momager lately?” The tremor in his lips was probably less of a reaction to the food and more an expression of concern.

When Taeyong’s eyes met mine, a faint pink blush painted along the bridge of his nose, and he stifled a giggle by pretending to choke on his mouthful. This— giggling when he looked at me— was the closest he ever came to acknowledging face to face that he knew about me and Taemin.

Taeyong’s giggle prompted me to look at Taemin. Sitting beside Kai (always) he met my gaze, subtly panicked. Kai, whose lips were swollen and stained red from the hot sauce, also gawked at me with tear-filled eyes. I wondered why he didn’t stop eating considering his reaction; he must have been hungry.

Lucas, surprisingly, was the most discreet in studying my reaction to Taeyong’s question. He only dropped a half-eaten wing into its box, licked his fingers clean, and glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes as he propped his head on his knees, which were drawn up to his chest.

I didn’t have to look at Baekhyun to know that he was looking at me, holding his cheeks in his hands and watching the chaos unfold with mischievous sparkles in his eyes. I guess he was just as delighted with mayhem when he wasn’t its source.

The five of us: Taemin, Kai, Lucas, Baekhyun, and I knew what (or, more accurately, who) was on Mom’s mind. It was just a matter of discovering who would spill the beans. I had a good idea of who it would be.

Before Baekhyun quite had a chance to speak, Ten’s eyes widened curiously. “What do you mean?”

Taeyong shrugged. As if he hadn’t been worried enough to bring up Mom in the first place, he tried to lessen the situation’s urgency by calmly explaining, “I don’t know. She just frowns a lot these days, and she seems a little out of it. Do you think she’s feeling okay?”

Mark’s face was scarlet and sweating. His shifting eyes looked at me and reminded me that he witnessed Mom and Donghae’s phone call argument in the van. He didn’t know details, but Mark wasn’t nearly as oblivious as I would have liked him to be.

At first, Mark didn’t say anything. He tried to bite down on his lips, but once it was clear that nobody was going to answer Taeyong, Mark reasoned, “Momager is probably just feeling tired. You know, we’re getting pretty close to Christmas break. We all need the time to recharge, right?”

While Taeyong and Ten agreed with identical nods, I beamed at Mark for thinking of such a rational explanation. Maybe he would always try to make up for his comment in that interview even though I didn’t think he needed to.

Despite being grateful to Mark for allowing me to hold on to Mom’s secrets a little longer, I was starting to feel exhausted by the grip I clung to them with. Mom probably didn’t want SuperM to know all of her personal business— although she had a stunning lack of reaction when I told her that Baekhyun was trying to blackmail her— and I wasn’t dying to explain it to them or anything, but since the Great Come Apart in Grandma’s dining room, it seemed like the secrets that once towered over me, glowered down at me, threatened to define me were as tiny as a speck of dust.

It was true. Mom was the idol who never debuted. But she was so much more. She was the one who could fix anyone’s problem. She was the one every idol knew and loved.

More importantly, she was the person I admired most in all the world because, well, she had always been there. Mom was there before any spotlight. Mom’s eyes were trained on me before anyone else’s, and her eyes were never critical. My mom— she was beautiful— and everything I was was a reflection of her.

I had been considering what it meant to be the fulfillment of her dreams, and it meant that I couldn’t be afraid. It meant I didn’t have to be. There was liberation in the fact that I could be confident in the truth that no matter what anybody in that hotel room, in the country, in the whole world even (!) said or thought or did, I now knew who I was. I knew who Mom was. I knew that no matter what— come what may— we would love each other forever.

All along, I had the forever love I couldn’t admit to wanting, and that’s why I didn’t wince or roll my eyes or sigh or feel the slightest tremor in my chest when Baekhyun said, “Maybe Mom caught whatever bug kept her from Donghae’s party.” Baekhyun’s tongue darted between his lips to lick at the hot sauce gathered around his smile.

I can’t explain why I didn’t feel any sort of rage toward Baekhyun even as Taemin, Kai, Lucas, and Mark cut their eyes at him. I don’t understand why I almost laughed at Baekhyun’s childish little smirk. “Yeah. Maybe she did.”

I don’t understand why Baekhyun was not at all surprised by my reaction. His smile only grew into something a little more genuine before I looked away, distracted by Ten’s gasp.

Ever the gossip, Ten leaned forward and shrieked, jaw dropped, “She didn’t go to Donghae’s party?”

Seeming to sense my lack of anxiety, Lucas laughed and launched a particularly greasy fry at Ten who, of course, caught it in his mouth with a smirk. “You would’ve noticed if you weren’t too busy drinking and dancing like an idiot with Hendery!”

“Wait.” Taeyong’s eyebrows knit together. “Is Momager sick? Donghae’s party was just before we left. What if she didn’t have time to recover? All this touring can’t be good for her health, and—”

Baekhyun caught my eyes briefly before blurting, “Obviously, Taeyong, Mom was faking.” He patted Taeyong’s shoulder. “No need to waste your empathy on a fake illness!”

Mark shook his head. “Nah, man. There’s no way. Mom loves Super Junior. She wouldn’t skip the party unless she really had to.” Raising his eyebrows at me, Mark wordlessly asked, “Right, Lei?”

At that, everybody turned to face me.

And I didn’t know what to say.

Taemin spoke up softly, lips still pretty despite being painfully swollen from Baekhyun’s silly hot wing prank. “I think we should mind our own business.”

Although Kai seconded, “Yeah,” with the slight nod of his head, Baekhyun argued, “You can’t blame the others—” he pointed at Ten, Taeyong, and Mark— “for wanting to know about Momhae’s 15 years of unrequited love!”

If looks could kill, Taemin would have murdered Baekhyun with a glance. I wonder what Taemin might have said had Lucas not made me laugh by jumping to his feet to debate, “Dude, that love is totally requited!”

I knew my reaction to this situation was wrong because Baekhyun and I were the only people laughing. I thought he sat next to me to set my world ablaze, but when he doubled over in laughter and laid his head of floppy blonde hair in my lap atop my polka-dotted pajama bottoms, I almost wanted to imagine that Baekhyun was there to encourage my laughter. That wasn’t the first time we laughed together in the wrong place at the wrong time, but as I cradled my face in my hands, I thought maybe it had been too long since the last time.

Kicking at us, Kai growled, “What the hell is wrong with you two? Get off of Lei, Baekhyun. Idiot.”

Baekhyun sat upright, likely spurred when I started bouncing my leg. “Sorry,” he said insincerely, “that was just hilarious!” Moments passed in relative silence before Baekhyun hummed, “What were we talking about?”

Taeyong’s face was contorted in bewilderment. “What the hell is a Momhae?”

Still standing over everyone, Lucas crossed his arms. As if it were obvious— and maybe it was— Lucas answered, “Mom and Donghae.”

“That’s a good ship name,” Mark assessed.

And Baekyun smiled. “Thanks! I came up with that!”

Ten cocked his head to the side. “Wait. Why did Baekhyun know about Momhae before I did?”

“Yeah.” I turned to face Baekhyun, and he almost distracted me with a funny face. “How did you find out about Mom and Donghae? Sehun didn’t tell you. He promised not to tell you if Donghae told him anything.”

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows and asked through pouting lips, “Are you sure Sehun’s really loyal to you?”

Without hesitating, I firmly nodded my head. At that point, for some reason, there was no doubt in my mind that Sehun hadn’t aided in Baekhyun’s quest for information. Maybe I wanted so badly to believe that Sehun was my ally— that we were somehow friends— that there was no room to question his motives.

“How romantic!” Baekhyun squealed and pinched my cheeks. When I kept staring at him, demanding an explanation for his knowledge, Baekhyun’s grin faltered. He, who I never knew to speak in anything other than a bright shout, mumbled, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The others had descended into chatter among themselves, so I challenged Baekhyun, troubled by the absence of mischief in his eyes. “Try me. You’ve been chaotic enough lately that I think you owe me an explanation or two.”

Baekhyun stared at me blankly. Once I smiled, he laughed. “I—”

His voice fell off as we felt Taemin’s eyes on us. Taemin’s stare wasn’t jealous— why would it be?— or in any way disapproving, but Baekhyun seemed to find something in it that I couldn’t. Shaking his head, Baekhyun huffed, “Maybe some other time, Lei.”

My simultaneous intrigue and disappointment at the ambiguity of Baekhyun’s answer— my frustration that he was always impossible to understand— was all short-lived. Across the room, Taemin’s eyes crinkled fondly as Kai muttered something to him, and suddenly I was too breathless to notice anything or anybody else.

I was too breathless to notice that Ten was talking to me until he crouched in front of me and flicked the center of my forehead. “Hey! I was talking to you! Stop gawking at your boyfriend and answer me!”

Taemin and I drew gasps that were suspicious enough before Lucas yelled, “Taemin and Lei aren’t dating!”

Ten might have been joking around about having caught me staring at Taemin, but Lucas’s outburst couldn’t have made our relationship more obvious. As Ten smirked at having accidentally stumbled upon a truth, Baekhyun barked, “Just repeat your dumb question, Ten! Nobody wants to hear about Taemin and Lei’s love life!”

It wasn’t like Baekhyun to pass on an opportunity to make me squirm, but I was too grateful that he used his authority as the leader to silence Ten to meet his eyes. I was so relieved that I could only fix my sight on Ten in anticipation of his question when Mark mumbled, “I don’t know. I kinda wanna know what’s going with Lei and Taemin.”

After Taeyong hushed Mark by placing a hand on his shoulder, and Ten swallowed his desire to tease me after shooting a glance at Baekhyun, Ten asked, “So what’s our plan to make Momhae a reality?”

I wheezed. “What?”

There was no plan. I didn’t believe in meddling in others’ personal affairs. Mom had her reasons for rejecting Donghae’s confessions all those years, and it was not my place to force her to reconsider.

If you really want to know my opinion, I didn’t approve of Donghae’s recent behavior. I think maybe some people liked to be chased, but I have always thought that it takes love to accept “no” as an answer. I have always thought there was a certain beauty in saying “not yet.” There was something special about believing that destiny doesn’t have to be forced.

Everything in me balked at the idea of forcing the hand of fate.

Besides, Mom was capable of pursuing Donghae when she was ready. Evidently, he was just a phone call away. Maybe he was getting desperate in those days, but I imagined that if he were capable of moving on, he would have already.

I didn’t know if Mom and Donghae would end up together. I just wanted to believe that if they were meant to be, they would. I wanted to believe that I wouldn’t lose any sleep if they were strained for the rest of our lives. Above all, I knew that I didn’t want to help SuperM make real emotions into a joke.

Maybe they weren’t trying to make it a joke, though.

Looking like he stood on the brink of tears, Mark confessed, “I don’t think I can live comfortably knowing that Donghae has been pining after Momager for 15 years. That’s a long time to walk around with a broken heart.”

All at once, it hit me that 15 years was most of my life. In my loyalty to Mom, had I forgotten those sad dimples that formed in Donghae’s chin when he realized that she hadn’t come to his birthday party? Had I forgotten how his voice wavered when he vowed to fix whatever kept them apart?

Mark’s empathy for Donghae reminded me of mine.

“Well I’m concerned about Mom!” Lucas’s eyes were rounded. He also looked like he was about to cry. Maybe it wasn’t just a topic of gossip for him. “Just look at Donghae! There’s no way she hasn’t fallen for him. And even if I’m wrong— even if she doesn’t love him the way he loves her— do you really think she doesn’t feel the burden of breaking his heart?”

I told you: I never stopped being surprised at how perceptive Lucas was.

I opened my mouth to tell him that Mom was okay. And even if she wasn’t right now, she would be. He didn’t have to hug his knees like that. He didn’t have to frown like that. He didn’t have to squeeze my heart with his sadness like that. It would be okay.

Taeyong, the sole voice of reason, dictated, “Of course, it’s all very sad, but we are not getting involved in Momager’s personal business.”

Ten, Mark, and Lucas groaned in discontent, so Taeyong looked to Baekhyun for support.

But before Baekhyun could assert his opinion on the matter, Mom burst through the door. “Baekhyun, where is—” Mom must have found or forgotten what she was looking for. Her question changed. “What are all of you doing in here? It’s past curfew.”

Mom didn’t pause long enough for anyone to answer. She waved a hand dismissively. “Nevermind. All of you, go back to your— Oh my God! Kai, are you okay?”

Following her concerned gaze, I saw that Kai’s face had swollen red, especially around the lips. Is that why he had gone so silent? I worried that he was having an allergic reaction until he replied in a normal voice, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Probably concerned that Kai’s face wouldn’t return to normal before tomorrow’s concert, Mom sighed raggedly. “Okay. Good.”

Nobody stood to return their rooms, so she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at our defiance. “Seriously, guys, go to bed! Why are none of you even meeting my eyes?”

I had been searching Mom’s face for confirmation that she was okay. A glance around the room revealed that everybody was staring guiltily at their empty to-go boxes. They were reacting as I had when I first learned pieces of Mom’s identity; they were trying to reconcile Mom the manager with Mom the human, who felt love and heartache.

When they looked up from their puzzle pieces to look to Baekhyun to answer as their leader, they probably didn’t expect him to ask without any trace of a grin, “Ma’am, are you ever going to accept Donghae’s confession?”

If Mom was surprised by Baekhyun’s question, I couldn’t tell from her mere blinking. She wasn’t the same person who stood motionless in the dance studio just months ago when Baekhyun alleged that she was the idol who never debuted. I wondered if she was proud to seem more human to us. I wondered if she found more pieces of herself; I wondered if she loved them as much as I did.

Mom must have been moved by our genuine concern. “Thank you for asking, Baekhyun, but it’s really none of your business.”

Baekhyun’s lips tucked into a thin frown as he nodded his head.

“Now go to bed,” Mom instructed softly. “We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

And so the others, as they rose to unsteady feet, understood that there was nothing they could say or do rush the hands of fate. Silently, we understood that we could only hope that things would work out in the way we imagined was best.

I don’t know why that truth, which had existed since the dawn of time, took our breath away. I think the truth must be different once you know it. I think none of us felt quite as helpless as we did when we parted ways to return to our rooms.

Laying my head against Taemin’s chest, I said, “Everything will be okay.” My voice wasn’t quite mine, though, because I was just repeating what Mom told me in Grandma’s dining room. I told myself that wanting to believe is as good as believing, but they were never the same thing.

Taemin repeated, “Everything will be okay.” His voice was the light in the darkness. I thought that if I just stayed close to Taemin, I could learn to burn that bright.

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girlgrouptrash101 · 5 years ago

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Dating Poly!ChaeLisa

Requested: “Can you write a poly dating Chaelisa? Your Chaesoo one was so good”

A/N: thank you to my #1 gal for helping on this post 🦆

- C

Get ready to be loved to no end!!! because these girlies have the biggest hearts and they just want to give you and each other their everything because that is what y’all deserve!!!

You really cherish every single moment that you get to spend with Chae and Lisa, because you know that when you said goodbye, you might not see them for weeks on end, months even.

the distance can get hard sometimes, but it’s always worth it when they finally come back home and into your arms, you love them too much to ever let them go

but when they are by your side!!! You three have so so so much fun together, there are rarely any moments when you aren’t laughing or smiling together

they invite you to all the concerts you’re able to go to, and you can’t help but laugh as the girls blow kisses and wink at you and the whole crowd around you go feRAL

you can’t blame them though dude, your girlfriends are hot tf

though Chaeyoung and Lisa love when you come to their shows, they much prefer spending time with you at home where they can be their genuine selves, no cameras or having to look perfect in front of thousands of people

you’ve learned a lot about how tough the idol life can be from watching your girls work so hard, so you always make sure you’re there to support them every step of the way

like bringing food for all four of the girls when they’ve been practising all day and staying there to be their moral support so they can power through the long dance sessions

+ always being there to watch and listen when Rosé and Lisa want to show you how they’ve improved or having dinner ready for them after a long day etc.

Taking them out to eat is so fun because they get so excited over every fancy dish and seeing them eat well just makes you so happy because they really do deserve the world im soft

plus it’s so cute when Rosie’s cheeks puff up like a hamster when she’s eating

or when she tries something she really likes and her arms do the little flap thing she does when she gets super excited

plus Lisa taking so many photos of you both, she always has her camera at the ready to snap the cutest and most aesthetic pictures of you and Chaeyoung, what a photography queen

Begging Rosé to take out her guitar and play for you omg bls

it’s so soft when you and Lisa just get to sit back and listen to Chaeyoung, who has the voice of an angel, as she sings to you both

she always sings love songs for you too, because Chae baby is super duper soft and takes every opportunity to remind you and Lisa how much she loves you both so much

sharing clothes for a real one like who even owns what anymore? nobody knows

Rosé being the queen of sweater paws and you and Lisa just gushing over her as she gets all smiley and blushy at the attention from you both

CUDDLES. PERIOD.

Lisa usually likes being in the middle of your cuddles, because she gets to hold you both close to her, and kiss you both as much as she wants

also, the person who sits in the middle always gets to hold the snacks so,, Miss Lisa has her priorities in order, obviously

Clothes shopping together!!!

You guys hype each other up so much it’s adorable and it fills you with so much confidence

you guys either go to the most expensive clothes shops, usually, Lisa takes you to those shops where you take one look at the price tag and feel your heart drop to your stomach jhdkfkg

or else you go to the cutest thrift shops where you help Rosie and Lisa pick out the cutest stuff,, feeling especially proud when you pick up those bargains am I right ladies

fashion shows in the middle of the shops??? I think soooo

while the other two of you pretend to be paparazzi and go in stupid positions to pretend to take photos and y’all end up laughing so hard until your sides hurt

Rosé is just a little baby okay so what if she just wants to eat cupcakes and plait yours and Lisa’s hair what abOUT IT

It never gets old when you’re in the car and you hear Blackpink on the radio,, you still get filled with so much pride for your girls

your groupchat is like an overload of emojis please relax all of you you don't need that many honestly

when you go to sleep you and Rosé always get into bed first and Lisa just yeEts on top of you both and you can’t help but scream and giggle as you all try and escape the wrath of Lisa

which eventually turns into a pillow/tickle fight, and you all fall off the bed

speaking of Lisa, she’s so good at flustering the both of you to no end

from stolen kisses, to pulling you down onto her lap, greasy compliments, just everything to get you and Rosie to blush

or when she smushes your face together and baby talks the shit out of you for no reason,,, and you’re like thaTs grOsS but she’s actually really cute and it lowkey made you blush

whenever you turn on music at your house it turns into a full live performance with singing, dancing, and the girls being your backup dancers and hyping you up as you screech along to some song on your playlist

for some reason, you all just like to grab loads of blankets and make a little fort on the carpet in your living room and just cuddle up there all night long

that’s the time where a lot of DMC’s and venting about your guys’ worries happens because you guys trust one another wholly

and you know that if you share your worries with them, they’ll know just how to comfort you and it’ll be a huge weight off your shoulders

to be honest, all three of you are WHIPPED whipped period

and that’s just how it’s always gonna be uwu

NSFW From Here:

the duality sis the DUALITY

they’re either waiting for you to come home so they can literally take you all night long

or else they’re big babies whos just want to be pleasured for hours,,, there really is no in between

Rosé being an innocent little shit in public while she teases both you and Lisa while no one is looking

having to contain yourself and behave when you see them backstage after shows, when they're all hot and sweaty and still on a high after their show

but it's all worth it when one of them comes over and whispers in your ear, promising that you'll get what you want as soon as you get home

they both really love to put on a show and drive you crazy especially when they know you can't do anything about it

like having some fun with each other on tour and sending you all the videos

they know just how to make you weak in the knees, they have you wrapped around their little fingers

definitely have a sex playlist without a doubt

whenever you go and get cleaned up in the shower afterwards one of you always ends up starting something and you really just go for another round then and there smh

Rosé just wants you to appreciate the fuck out of her thighs and ride her face okay don’t deny her that

Lisa’s fingers>>>>> tell me i’m wrong i dare you

these girls are so loud, they don’t give a shit who hears it once they’re gone enough

except for when they wake up the next morning at their dorm and Jennie and Jisoo tease the shit out of you all

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myqueenjudeduarte · 5 years ago

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Something Like Trust: Chapter 1

Here it is y’all... the fic you’ve been waiting your whole lives for... a 10k word first chapter of Jurdan BDSM.

Post-The Wicked King

Tags/Warnings: Slapping (in a sexual context), references to spanking, teasing, orgasm delay, uhh angst and emotional fuckery, BDSM obviously, alcohol, also alcoholism because Cardan is present, kind of exhibitionism, I can’t accurately prepare you guys for this fic so just don’t read it if you aren’t comfortable with BDSM relationships. The later chapters will have a lot more intense stuff so just... be warned. OH also warning for them both being COMPLETELY out of character like honestly y’all this is DISGRACEFUL.

Summary: “I was thinking of an arrangement which would allow you moments of powerlessness. An arrangement in which I would take the control, allowing you to experience the feeling of an utter lack of responsibility, a feeling in which I am in command of all and you have no worries to speak of.”

Word Count: 9,426 I’m sO SORRY

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my fics!

Everyone who knew Jude Duarte came quickly to realize that what she sought, above all else, was power. Control. Influence. That she had long felt powerless, and that she remedied this through a combination of scheming and working to rise to the top.

And rise to the top Jude had.

There were few higher places for an 18-year-old mortal girl to be than by the side of the High King of Elfhame, ruling a kingdom with him. And there were few people more profitable to be close to than the High King himself.

There were times, though, when Jude — though she would never admit it — craved above all else a respite from the power. The control. The influence. Craved, in fact, a moment of return to that place of powerlessness, when the worries of the kingdom had been anyone’s but hers and she was free to rest and roam rather than reign.

And there were moments, now, after nearing 6 months since Jude’s return to Elfhame and eventual semi-reconciliation with Cardan, when Jude imagined herself as powerless once more and still imagined Cardan by her side, not ruling together, but simply being together.

When these thoughts struck Jude she would roughly and with decisiveness shove them to the back of her mind and pretend she had never experienced them. Jude could no more afford a break from her power than she could afford to become emotionally involved with her fellow ruler. These were thoughts she had no choice but to keep to herself, as she did most of her thoughts and all of her feelings.

Until tonight, when Jude was drunk.

Jude was, to be quite transparent, far past drunk. Jude was heavily intoxicated, and, she reasoned, through no fault of her own. She had overheard several subjects of Elfhame debating how, exactly, they were expected to take seriously a queen who was not only mortal, but didn’t even drink. The King, of course, drank his fill — why was the queen so serious all the time? How could she ever expect to fit in with faeries if she wouldn’t even let loose at a revel?

Jude, of course, wanted nothing more than power, and power was a child, born of respect and fear. She rationalized, then, that to fit in in Elfhame more fully would be to earn respect, and with respect, power. She gained from this the idea that she had no choice but to drink.

And drink she did.

Cardan looked on from his throne in bewilderment and something akin to amusement as Jude danced and drank with the people of Elfhame. He wanted nothing more than to join her in her drunken fun, but felt that this was something, strange as it was, she needed to do on her own.

When Cardan was falling asleep on the throne and the sun was beginning to make the day known, Jude finally approached the dais, stumbling and smiling and so, so stunning — at least, that was all Cardan could think of as she draped herself over her throne, positioned beside his.

“Cardan, I danced,” she said. Cardan made a most concerted effort to school his face into seriousness, or at least not to laugh at her. He didn’t want to ruin this.

“Yes, Jude. I watched,” he said in a low voice.

To Cardan’s surprise, he saw a faint blush spread over Jude’s cheeks.

“Did you?” she said, and pushed herself with some difficulty closer to him. “Would you like to watch me further? Perhaps in my chambers, and perhaps wearing less than we are now?” Jude whispered the words, but Cardan was still taken aback. It was rare — unheard of, really — of Jude to be so forward, or forward at all.

Cardan and Jude were no strangers to sleeping together, but Cardan usually initiated it, delivering smirks and pointed remarks until Jude rolled her eyes and almost admitted to having desire of her own. Now, though, Jude was too drunk to care that her want could be used against her as a weakness.

As strongly, though, as Jude’s words and posture affected Cardan, he was loathe to do anything with Jude that she would regret in the morning, or that he would regret as taking advantage of the woman he had begun to admit to himself that he had feelings for.

“I think, my dear Jude, that you have had too much to drink for me to consider your admittedly delightful proposal.”

Jude merely smiled and closed her eyes, swaying slightly. “I love it when you call me dear,” she said softly.

Cardan felt a pressure on his chest, the sensation that his ribs might break and puncture his heart and end his immortal life right here and now.

“And I love that you’ve told me that, but I think I should return you to your chambers before you say anything else you will hate yourself for in the morning.” The words were sad, and so was Cardan as he considered what Jude would likely do to herself for even that small admission.

Jude and Cardan didn’t share chambers, and certainly not for Cardan’s lack of trying. Jude refused to become closer with Cardan than sex and a rare moment of shared silence afterward, than discussing the workings of the kingdom. Cardan had asked — near begged, really — Jude to move in, but she had steadfastly refused to assent.

“Your chambers, today, I think,” said Jude, her voice low. Cardan felt his blood heating despite himself, but pushed the thoughts away — now was not the time to lose himself in his passion for her.

“My chambers, then, but to sleep.”

Jude positively pouted. “You’re no fun. Why are you no fun? I’m supposed to be the no fun one.”

Cardan smiled at that. “Yes, those are our usual roles, aren’t they? But tonight, you’ve had a little too much fun, so I am saddled with the role of the serious.”

Jude continued to pout. “Are you gonna take care of me?” she asked, brightening slightly at the thought.

“For the night,” Cardan said quietly, before standing and offering Jude his hand. “On any other, you would run me through for the barest implication that you needed caring for.”

Jude laughed. “I wouldn’t run you through. You’re Cardan!”

“So I am,” he replied.

“I wouldn’t run Cardan through. I’d miss him.”

Realizing that Jude seemed to have forgotten with whom she was speaking, Cardan led her in silence to his chambers, still mulling over her words. It was nice, at the basest level, to hear that she had no desire to kill him. Even that small mercy took him by surprise. “My ruthless girl,” he thought, and then corrected himself. She was not his girl, after all.

When they arrived in his chambers, Cardan helped Jude into bed before lying down beside her. He may have been unwilling to engage in anything sexual while she was in her present state, but he had no qualms about taking advantage of it to be close to her. The morality of his behavior had improved over the past months ruling with Jude, but he adopted no pretense of being perfect.

To his shocked delight, Jude snuggled close to him, tucking her head against his chest when he rolled toward her. He tentatively placed an arm over her side, and she hummed happily. Jude and Cardan had shared time, shared kisses, shared rule of a kingdom, but they had not shared true intimacy since the night they were married. Until, that is, this moment, a moment Cardan placed quietly into his heart to cherish in the days, weeks, months of cold that were sure to follow this night.

He thought this was the end of the happy moments, that Jude would drift off to sleep and that he would face an angry, hungover mortal the next day, but instead, Jude spoke.

“I know I’ll be too afraid to say this tomorrow,” she whispered. “I’m not so drunk as to forget my own nature.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t—“

“I’m cruel to you anyway, Cardan, wouldn’t you rather hear what I have to say now and face my wrath tomorrow?”

Cardan remained silent.

“Sometimes I don’t want this power,” Jude spoke, slowly, softly. “Sometimes I want to feel powerless again, to feel like the weight of a kingdom doesn’t rest on our shared shoulders. Like we’re kids again, like you’re treating me badly during lessons on warm evenings in the gardens. Or like we’re older, and you’re kinder, and we have time to be away from all of this. Can you imagine if we had the space and time to be powerless, even for a second?”

Jude sighed. “I know it makes no sense,” she said, “I know you think that everything I am seeks power, but there’s something else there, inside me. Don’t forget that there’s something else, ok?”

Her words grew more desperate, and with the desperation, more slurred, as she continued speaking. But Cardan barely noticed her fading — an idea had come to his mind, one he could not release despite its insanity, despite the fact that all would be lost when they woke.

“It makes perfect sense, Jude,” he spoke as she drifted off to sleep. “And I know exactly what you need.”

—

“What is it?” These were the first words Cardan heard upon waking. He had slept until nightfall, they both had, and he could see the rays of the setting sun outside the window, the pink and purple hues of the night-turning sky. For a moment, he didn’t even process the question.

“What?” he asked sleepily, beginning to sit up only to find a hand on his chest pinning him to the bed.

“I asked you what it is,” Jude said, voice nothing more than mildly annoyed despite the harshness of her actions. “What is it that I need?”

“You remember that?”

Jude rolled her eyes. “I may have been mildly intoxicated, but I still remember the morning, Cardan.”

Cardan smiled at what she termed “mild” intoxication. “Do you truly want to know?”

“Yes.” Her voice was solemn now, almost nervous, as if she could sense that his answer would not be an easy one.

It wouldn’t.

Cardan’s smile turned to a smirk as he looked up at her, hair and clothes rumpled from sleep, eyes wide with anticipation. She was beautiful, and he was glad to be telling her this, despite how she would surely react.

“I was thinking, my Jude, of an arrangement of sorts.”

“What kind of—“

“Let me finish, Jude.”

She was quiet.

“I was thinking of an arrangement which would allow you moments of powerlessness. An arrangement in which I would take the control, allowing you to experience the feeling of an utter lack of responsibility, a feeling in which I am in command of all and you have no worries to speak of.”

“You would take charge of the kingdom?”

“I would take charge of you, Jude.”

There was silence for several moments, utter, complete silence as Jude studied him. He expected at any second for her to yell, hurt him, get up and leave, or in some other way snap. It would be worth it. But, to his surprise, she merely said,

“Explain.”

And explain he did.

“I would take charge of you — specifically of your body, and specifically sexually, but your mind would follow, I expect. My every command you would follow, or risk punishment. This could be situational or constant, depending on your level of comfort. That means that we could either have assigned stretches under which these conditions are met — you obey me, I care for you, and the focus is on the sexual — and the rest of the time we would be the same Jude and Cardan we are now, bickering and never once obeying the other, unless forced to do so” (this he said with a pointed look, reminding Jude of their past arrangement). “Alternatively, we could have a constant arrangement, one in which you always obey my commands or you are punished. In this way, you could both have power and powerlessness simultaneously, depending on the situation. Both of these, I assume, sound far outside your comfort, but Jude, I implore you to at least consider what I suggest, even if you do no more. Consider what it would mean for you.” With this last desperate plea, Cardan fell silent, awaiting the stormy anger he expected from Jude. This time, his expectations were met.

“Do you think,” she said in the deadly calm he had learned to fear in their time together, “that I trust you, Cardan?”

“No, but I think that you need to.”

“For this? For your deranged sex idea?”

“For this, for our ruling together, for our marriage, for your health.”

“Our marriage has been a sham since you exiled me,” she spat, bringing up wounds Cardan had never been so bold as to think healed.

“I should like it not to be.”

There was a moment of silence before Jude spoke once more.

“What kind of punishments?”

Cardan felt acutely the whiplash of this conversation.

“Some physical, some lack of privileges, depending on the intensity of the relationship. Some pleasant and playful and some less so.”

“Would you ever hit me?”

“Only with your explicit permission and desire.”

“Hit me. I desire it.”

Concentrating on the effort not to let his shock and his own desire show on his face, Cardan brought a hand up from where it had rested on the bed, reached to where Jude still hovered over him, and slapped her thigh, hard. She still wore her dress from the revel of the night before, allowing his hand to connect with bare skin.

Jude gasped in surprise, then rolled onto her back beside him.

“And what if I did obey?” was her next question, asked tentatively.

“I would reward you.”

“What kind of rewards?”

“Would you like me to demonstrate those, as well?”

Jude’s silence served as assent, and Cardan rolled onto his elbow to hover over Jude’s frame.

“I might start like this,” he said, trailing his hand across the high neckline of Jude’s dress, over her throat.

“And move lower,” he added, running his hand over her chest to cup her breast gently. “Like this.”

Jude bit her lip, rubbed her missing fingertip against her thumb, the tell-tale sign of her nervousness. Cardan continued.

“I might tease you a bit, even when you had been good, because the important aspect of this is that you are subject to my desires. No matter how good you’ve been, if I want to punish you, I may, and if I want to reward you, I will do so at my leisure.” As he spoke, he grazed his fingertips over her breast, studiously avoiding her nipple. She wasn’t wearing a bra — she must have removed it in her drunken sleep, and he could see the peak of her nipple under the thin fabric of her dress.

When, after several long minutes, he finally brushed her nipple with his knuckle, Jude breathed a sigh of pleasure.

“Here,” Cardan said, pausing his ministrations, “I might give you an order. I might tell you to be quiet, or not to move, or both, and if you break the rules...” he slapped her thigh hard once again. “You might find you rather dislike the results.”

Cardan could see the effect he was having on Jude and pushed forward, wanting nothing more than to convince her that this was what she needed. He had never expected to get this far on a subject he expected her to shut down immediately, and he would not sacrifice the opportunity.

“Next, I might move lower...” he slid his hand down over her stomach, felt the softness there that covered hard muscle.

“Down to here, perhaps,” he said as he reached the junction of her thighs. “And since this is a reward, I would likely not make you wait too terribly long for what you would so desperately, desperately want.”

As Cardan’s hand slipped under Jude’s dress, he felt the wetness between her thighs and knew his words and actions had their desired effect.

“I see that this is already what you desperately, desperately want, my dear Jude?”

Jude’s hand darted out and clasped Cardan’s wrist, pulling it out from under her dress. He could never hope to be stronger than her, so he waited in anticipation for what she would say.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, and Cardan relaxed slightly. “Alright, Cardan. Let’s try. You have tonight to convince me that this is anything other than a horrible idea.” Here she paused, and he saw a shadow come over her face, knew that whatever she was about to say was hard for her.

“I don’t trust you, Cardan, and maybe I never will—“

“Jude—“

“But,” she said emphatically, “I’m willing to try. To see how it goes. And besides, I suppose that I trust you more than most people in my life, okay? That’s something.”

Cardan felt the familiar chest-crushing feeling as he gazed at her in the wake of that admission, one that would have been small had she been anyone but Jude Duarte.

“Does my time start now?” was all he replied, not wanting to get emotional and ruin this moment.

“I suppose,” she said, feigning a lack of care when Cardan could tell she was still flustered from his actions.

Cardan leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Jude’s lips. To his continual surprise, she didn’t pull away- instead, she reciprocated, deepening the kiss slightly. This, if nothing else, revealed how aroused she was, and Cardan couldn’t help but smile at her willingness and desperation.

When he finally pulled away, it was because Cardan had business to attend to before they could truly begin the day that might change everything.

“There are a few things we need to discuss, and they happen to be the type of things that are best gone over with paper and pen.” He moved to retrieve both of those items, and to his delight Jude remained still on the bed, awaiting his return. Perhaps, he mused, she would be more obedient during this whole endeavor than he ever expected.

When he returned, Cardan sat cross-legged on the bed as Jude drew a knee up on which to rest her chin.

“The first item we need to discuss is your limits. These are the things I am absolutely, under no circumstances, allowed to do to you or to order you to do. These can be sexual or not, and this list can be edited at any time as you think of more.”

“I don’t...” and here Jude paused, taking a moment to overcome embarrassment over what she was about to say. “I don’t think I know enough about the things we might be doing to know what my limits would be.”

“And that is utterly acceptable,” Cardan said, rushing to reassure her. “They can be anything. For example,” and with this, he ran a hand down the side of her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, “you’ve made it abundantly clear that you have no qualms about being slapped. If you did, we would add it to the list. But if it helps you, I can list some things I may do and you can enlighten me as to how you would respond to them.”

Jude nodded, and Cardan steeled himself against his arousal, driven higher by the prospect of listing potential acts, to focus on the task at hand.

“How would you feel,” Cardan asked, “if I made you wait to orgasm for, say, 2 hours as I teased you?”

Cardan could see, feel the change in Jude’s posture as she became more aroused.

“I’m sure I would not feel good about that in the moment,” she replied, eyebrows raised, “but hearing about it, it sounds... appealing.”

“And if I made you wait for a day?”

Jude snorted. “As if you have the time as High King to take an entire day to tease me.”

“Nothing would be stopping me from ordering you to tease yourself when I was otherwise occupied.”

Jude flushed now. Cardan had been trying, to little avail, to help Jude become more comfortable talking about sex. They were doing it, after all, but outside of the act itself when Cardan brought it up Jude often became irate or uncomfortable.

Maybe, Cardan mused, some part of that was to do with the fact that he, as frequently as possible, brought it up loudly and in public.

Still. This conversation was a significant step towards growing Jude’s comfort in the topic, and Cardan planned to milk the opportunity for all he could.

“And if I didn’t have the time?” Jude asked at length, returning to the conversation.

“You might be surprised,” Cardan said, lowering his voice and leaning closer to Jude’s ear, “how easily you can slip out of a meeting and into a closet when the threat of my hand on your beautiful ass looms over you.”

Jude tried to jerk away from Cardan, but he held her chin tightly and pulled her back.

“You forget, I think, that we have already begun. You will not pull away from me, do you understand?”

Jude flushed hotter and grumbled something that resembled, “okay.”

“That was your first and only warning. Back, now, to the limits. Answer my last question.”

“Yes, I think I would accept waiting a day.”

“And a week?”

Jude’s eyes grew wide. “I... would prefer not to, but it isn’t a limit.”

Cardan, alert to the smallest minutiae of Jude’s actions, noticed as she shifted near imperceptibly closer to him. He smiled inwardly. What this small action conveyed to him was that his plan to make Jude desperate for his attentions, both sexual and non, before they even began was beginning to work.

“And if I wanted to brand you?”

“Limit.”

Cardan grinned, having known, of course, that this would be the answer.

“And there, my dear, is an example.”

Jude rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry that I needed to make clear that ‘permanent disfigurement’ is off the table.”

“You need to make everything clear, Jude, to reduce the possibility of my doing something that genuinely distresses you. And,” he said, growing serious, “I will allow it for now, but when we are done with writing and discussions and begin in earnest, I will expect a more respectful tone from you than that.”

“And if I don’t, you’ll punish me?”

Cardan could hear in Jude’s voice that her reply was no form of backtalk, but one of apprehension and excitement.

“Yes, Jude,” Cardan said, leaning closer once more. “I will punish you, and you will not enjoy it.”

“And if I do?”

Cardan frowned. “It is... a complicated line, to answer you with honesty. I want you to enjoy all that we do, because that is the main purpose of all of this. My role, above all else, is to protect and care for you while putting you in positions of vulnerability, and to make sure that the things we do while I am in control serve you well. However, a part of your enjoyment and powerlessness will be the knowledge that when you transgress, you will be corrected, and that the correction will make you want to avoid repeating the offense. So while I want you to enjoy the process, I do not expect you always to enjoy the particular instance of punishment. Confirm whether or not that makes sense to you.” This was Cardan’s attempt to help Jude grow used to following orders, and it succeeded as she obeyed without question on this small matter.

“Yes, it makes sense.”

Cardan saw Jude rub her legs together, almost too lightly to be noticeable, and smiled.

“Growing a bit desperate, are we?”

Jude scowled, then realized herself and schooled her face into neutrality. Cardan smiled wider at this indication that she was beginning to behave.

“Are you trying the teasing thing now? Trying to make me desperate?”

“Oh, Jude. If and when I tease you, I strongly suspect you shall know. No, when we finish this,” and he waved the paper and pen, “I will make sure your desperation is alleviated.”

“Then let’s get back to work.”

“Begging?”

Jude scoffed again, then looked guiltily at Cardan. It would take some time to break her of these habits, and Cardan fully expected to enjoy every moment of doing so.

“You are free to try to make me beg,” she replied, opting for a neutral statement that still conveyed her derisiveness.

Cardan smiled. “I love a challenge,” he retorted, “thought I doubt that it will be one after I have brought you to the appropriate headspace.”

“What does that mean?”

Cardan set down the paper and turned toward her for this section of the explanation.

“Sometimes, during arrangements such as the one we’re forming-“ At this, Jude raised her eyebrows, reminding him that this arrangement was far from settled.

“The one I hope to form,” he corrected himself. “During these arrangements, there is a certain state of mind you can enter. I have done it at the hands of others- it is a most wondrous, delightful feeling, as though everything in the world is taken care of and the person in control can do no wrong. I tell you this in advance of its happening because I want you to know that I in no way am provoking this state in you for my own gain, or so that you will think more highly of me. I do it because I want you to feel that incredible feeling, and to feel that you are safe and cherished. Do you understand?”

Jude nodded, but then a shadow passed over her face, as though thinking of something she would rather not.

“How do you know all of this? Who made you feel that way? Have you made others feel that way before?”

The jealousy present in her tone was uncharacteristic, and Cardan couldn’t help experiencing a rush of pleasure as he heard it.

“I have a good deal of experience with the topic, and a good deal of knowledge in how it can go poorly,” he answered with a sad smile. “There was a time when, in search of that feeling, I would entrust myself to anyone willing to help me. Many of them took advantage of the situation to cause me pain, not that I can say I didn’t often deserve it. But this is my promise to you, Jude - I will cause you pain, but it will never be more than you can tolerate, it will never be emotional pain, if I can prevent it, and it will never be for the reason that I want you to genuinely suffer. If I punish you, it is to correct you, and if I hurt you because I want to, it is for both of our pleasures.”

“But to your other question. Yes, I have made others feel this way, but never one who I... cared for, as I care for you. It will be entirely different. I hope you can believe that.”

“Nicasia?” was all she replied, unwilling, of course, to acknowledge the depth of feeling in his statement.

“Among others.”

Jude nodded, apparently satisfied for now with his answers.

“I think I understand the limits now. I would not like to be permanently disfigured,” she said with a pointed look, “nor would I like to be overly disgusted by anything we should do.”

“Elaborate.” He knew this would be a challenge for Jude, to speak explicitly about her likes and dislikes.

“I would not like... spit,” she said, “if that was even an option. Nor would I appreciate an excess of any fluid to touch me. I would like to remain relatively clean. Is that—“ Jude caught herself about to ask if that was acceptable and stopped there, frowning as it came to her attention that she had already begun to enter a place of asking his approval.

“Yes,” Cardan answered, as if she had finished the question. “Very good. Lie on your back.”

Jude tentatively did as instructed.

Cardan leaned over her, bringing his mouth to her breast and pressing light kisses along its top, still working through the fabric of her dress. His tongue moved lower to circle her nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, hard. Jude gasped in pleasure and Cardan hummed against her tender flesh.

He pulled back, but left a hand lingering on her cheek. “When you do as you are instructed, you are rewarded,” he said lightly, before returning to the paper. Jude tried to sit up with him, but he held up a hand.

“I want you in that position until I indicate otherwise.”

Jude lay back down.

“Good,” said Cardan with a smile. “Now. Any other limits you can think of currently? It is completely understandable if not, and we can add more at any time.”

Jude shook her head.

“Then we will move on to apprehensions. What are you apprehensive about going into this?”

Jude thought for a moment before replying.

“Vulnerability,” she said slowly. “Putting faith in someone other than myself, not that I even have too much of that in myself lately.” She turned her head away after speaking, realizing she had shared more than she meant to.

Cardan reached over to take her hand gently. “Keep going.”

“Being without weapons, without defenses. Being in a situation where I need to be protected. Being in a situation where I can’t protect you.” The apprehensions came out of her in a rush now, to Cardan’s relief.

“I’m also apprehensive that I will be bad at this, that I won’t be able to bring myself to be obedient and that you will quickly tire of trying to correct me.”

“Oh, Jude. I will never tire of correcting you, and you never need worry that you will be too disobedient. You have already shown me, given your actions of tonight alone, that you will be good at this, not that there is even a way you could be bad.”

Jude shot Cardan a quick grateful look before continuing.

“I’m apprehensive that this is going to make me seem weak.”

“To me?”

“To you, to the kingdom. To anyone who knows.”

“No one will know without your express permission, Jude. Besides, who would I tell?” Cardan spoke the words with some bitterness, reminding Jude that he had few people in his life besides her. The thought crossed her mind that she should endeavor to treat him slightly more kindly, as he had her.

“Those are all of my apprehensions for now,” was all she said. “What else do you need to write down?”

“You need two words - one which stops everything we are doing completely, and one which signals me to make sure you are okay before we continue.”

“Nicasia and Locke.” She answered without hesitation.

“Fitting,” Cardan said, amused. “Our ex lovers.” He hurriedly wrote down her answers before continuing.

“What shall you call me?”

“Cardan, perhaps?” she answered sarcastically.

Cardan frowned at her.

“A name which denotes respect, Jude. May I suggest ‘My Lord’ or ‘My King’? I won’t make you go so far as to call me master.”

“My Lord,” Jude replied after a brief moment of consideration.

“Good. For the rest of the night and day, from this moment on, you will address me as ‘My Lord’. You will respond to my questions with answers like ‘Yes, My Lord’ and ‘No, My Lord.’ Is that clear?”

“Yes, My Lord.” Jude said quietly. Cardan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Good. That concludes the information I need to gather for now. I will store this sheet safely for future use.”

“You seem quite confident that there will be future use.”

Cardan raised an eyebrow but let the disrespect in her tone slide. “I think you need this, Jude, and I think you will come to realize that by the end of the time you’ve allotted me. Another thing to note is that from this moment forward, I will not take your disrespect quite so lightly.”

Jude nodded once, and Cardan seized her chin in his hand once more.

“Say, ‘yes, My Lord’.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Jude replied, averting her eyes, still unable to believe she had put herself in this position.

Cardan smiled. “So far, you have been fairly obedient, and completed all that I’ve asked of you with a minimum of complaint. Frankly, I’m impressed, and I do plan to reward you.”

Jude shivered.

“But first, I want to address something you said earlier, about my viewing you as weak. Jude, to submit to my control will be the ultimate show of strength. I know what it would take from you, and how bold you will have to be in order to do so. I will never, never think you weak for giving up a small piece of your power. I will see you as all the more powerful for it, do you understand?”

“Yes, My Lord,” she said quietly.

“Good. Then let us begin.” With that, Cardan returned his mouth to Jude’s breast, licking and sucking over the fabric of her dress as his hands inched the bottom upward, baring her upper thighs. He finally pulled back to remove her dress entirely and stayed hovering above her, gazing down at her near-naked form.

“Tell me what you think of your body, Jude.”

Jude blanched, and Cardan could see the panic in her eyes, wondered if he had gone too far. Then, though, she reminded herself of his prior words - that this was strength, power, not weakness and defeat.

“I think it is strong, and serves its purpose, but is out of place among those of the faeries. You are all so... well, thin, and I am not. I have always wished to look as you do, despite knowing I never can.”

Cardan nodded, having suspected exactly this response.

“And would you like to know what I think of your body, Jude?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“I think your body far surpasses the beauty of that of any faerie I have ever seen. I think there is nothing more attractive to me than your muscles and flesh. I think that the more of you there is for me to touch,” and he touched her, “kiss,” and he kissed her, “and caress the more I will be satisfied. And I think that your body gives you life, and that is the most beautiful thing of all. After the undersea, when you had so little flesh on your bones, I was terrified. I would never want to see you like that again. I am grateful for every day that you have enough to eat, and I count myself lucky to share the bed of someone strong enough to snap my body in a heartbeat.”

Jude laughed at this. “I meant what I said, though. I wouldn’t kill you.”

Cardan put his hand over his chest and said with mock sincerity, “and you have no idea what that means to me,” but they both knew it was far from sarcasm.

“Thank you,” Jude said softly, “my lord, for what you said.”

“I speak only the truth, unlike some,” he replied, touching her face lightly. “Anyway, Jude, would you like me to return to the task at hand?”

“Very much so — my lord.” He heard her stumble, forget herself for a moment, and resolved to push her deeper into the headspace she so desperately needed to enter.

He started by kissing his way down her stomach, running his tongue along the bones of her hips, the line of her pelvis. He nipped the skin of her inner thigh gently, causing her to yelp, and grinned against her.

Finally — finally — he attended to her burning need, pulling her remaining underwear down her legs and situating himself between them. He heard her give a sharp intake of breath as she realized what he was going to do, as she did every time they did this, and smiled once more at the familiarity of the situation.

With one hand, Cardan spread Jude before him, as he pressed his tongue against her folds.

“Spread your legs for me, Jude, dear,” he muttered against her, and she squirmed even as she did as he asked. Demanded.

When she had obeyed, he resumed his actions in earnest, licking and sucking with vigor, trying to bring her to the edge as quickly as possible. He entered her with two fingers so suddenly that she gasped in surprise, and he pulled back to grin up at her and gaze at her flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Your nipples. Touch them,” he commanded, and she did as instructed, pulling and rolling them between her fingers, moaning lightly at the sensation and more loudly as he curled his fingers inside her, still watching.

“You are stunning,” he said simply, before resuming the work of his mouth against her. He flicked her clit with his tongue, slowly at first, but increased speed with his tongue and fingers until she was on the edge, crying out that she was about to go over it.

He stopped all motions, pulled back, and said, “hands at your sides.”

“I thought this was a reward,” she said, anger flashing in her eyes even as she obeyed.

“It is,” he replied. “The reward is the fact that I’m touching you at all. And I don’t appreciate your attitude. Spread your legs.”

She had snapped them closed in the wake of his motions ceasing, but opened them again now. Cardan pushed them farther apart roughly.

“In the future, know that it is my right to stop touching you at any time, and that you have no leave to contest my decision. I won’t fully punish you now, because this is a first infraction, but I will give you a small reminder of your place.”

With those words, he slapped her directly on the junction between her legs, one of his many rings hitting her clit. While he congratulated himself on his excellent aim, Jude cried out in shock and pain.

“Car— My—“ she sputtered, trying to find something to say that wouldn’t provoke another slap. Cardan merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for her decision.

She stayed silent, biting her lip against the desire to protest and the residual stinging between her legs.

Cardan looked down at her. “Next time, your punishment will not be so easy to bear. And before I forget, there is a rule I want to set for the future- you ask me, rather than tell me, when you are close to orgasm. Do you understand?”

Jude closed her eyes briefly before responding. “Yes, My Lord.”

Cardan could see the struggle in Jude, sense the way she worked to control the impulse to resist him, and found himself impossibly proud.

He lay down beside her and began steadily stroking a finger in circles around her clit, so slowly that there was no risk of her coming from the stimulation. Jude bit her lip and moaned.

“Normally, at a time like this, I would be waiting for you to beg,” Cardan said conversationally, as if discussing the weather in Elfhame. “But, as circumstance has it, begging will do nothing for you here. I plan to let you come—“ with those words, Jude’s wide eyes shot to his, but he continued with a small smile “but not for some time.”

Jude’s face fell, but lacked the spark of anger it had earlier held. Good. That meant she was beginning to accept that she had no choice but to allow Cardan to do what he would with her pleasure.

He continued his gentle ministrations on her clit, listening for small moans and breathy sighs as she wished for more stimulation, for several minutes. Then, without warning, he rose.

“Get dressed,” he ordered.

“Why?” she asked, even as she stood from the bed.

Cardan raised an eyebrow by way of answer, and Jude paled.

“I will, My Lord.”

Cardan knew that Jude was likely still allowing this sort of behavior from herself by rationalizing that it was only for the night, but it still pleased him to see signs of her growing obedience.

Jude had dresses in one of the many closets contained by Cardan’s chambers, for those times when hers became rumpled and dirty and she didn’t want anyone to know what she had been doing or with whom. She pulled one on now, not bothering to search for a bra, knowing Cardan would likely stop her anyway. She did, however, pick her underwear back up from where Cardan had carelessly discarded it earlier, but he tsked and plucked it from her hands.

“Not tonight,” he said decisively, and she had no choice but to obey.

When she was dressed and had smoothed down her hair enough to be presentable to... wherever it was they were going, Cardan led Jude from the chambers and into the halls of the palace. When they reached the throne room, a horrible thought occurred to Jude. Surely, surely, Cardan didn’t expect her to spend hours on the throne as she usually did at night, watching revelers and hearing complaints from the citizens of Elfhame. Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel, when she could still feel the wetness between her thighs and knew her clit remained as swollen as ever.

But he was so cruel, and in they went to settle on the twin thrones, side by side, perhaps an inch of space between the two seats.

“Bring a table,” he ordered loudly to the room, “with a cloth.”

Cardan was quickly obeyed, and a table was set before their thrones on the dais, covered in a white cloth that reached to the floor. To Jude’s shock, Cardan actually thanked the faeries that delivered the table. He was clearly on his best behavior in an attempt to convince her that this was a worthy arrangement.

Jude had no idea why Cardan would request a table when, again to her shock, he did not appear to be drinking. His reason soon became apparent, though, as his hand slipped across the space between their thrones and under her dress once more, blocked from the sight of the room’s revelers by the cloth on the table.

She realized at that moment that Cardan planned to keep her on the edge of orgasm for the entire duration of their time in the throne room, and closed her eyes as a flush began to rise on her face.

“My lord,” she said, too quietly for anyone but Cardan to hear her. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” he responded, “because I know your limits, and because I am telling you that you can, and because you want to please me.”

Jude was surprised to find that she did, indeed want to please him.

“My lord,” she started again, “you aren’t drinking. I was just wondering why.”

Cardan’s face grew serious. “As greatly as it pains me to go a night sober, I don’t believe in engaging in this sort of... activity while intoxicated. One of my main responsibilities is to ensure that I can read you well enough to know your limits, and I can’t easily do so with an alcohol addled mind.”

Jude nodded, touched and realizing for the first time that Cardan’s role in this was as difficult, if not more so, as hers.

“So, in the hypothetical and far from plausible situation that we made this arrangement permanent...”

“I would still drink on occasion, but any rewards, punishments, commands, or otherwise would wait until my sobriety.”

Jude found herself slightly disappointed. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she worried about his drinking, about the fact that his drunken state seemed the only time he even bordered on happiness. Not that she did much to help with the misery he experienced in life.

All thoughts shattered in Jude’s mind as Cardan brought her nearly over the edge once more.

“My Lord, can I-“

He pulled away.

Had they not been in the middle of a room full of faeries, Jude might have cried out in frustration.

They passed the next hour in silence, Cardan bringing Jude to the edge again every time she got far enough from it to be comfortable. She spent the hour in misery, near writhing in her seat from the arousal. She knew she would have a damp spot on the back of her dress when they finally left the throne room, and couldn’t bring herself to care. She couldn’t even care, in fact, that all of this was happening publicly, and that someone could rise too high on the dais and see what Cardan’s hand occupied itself with at any moment.

“Alright, Jude,” Cardan said loudly, finally taking pity on her. “Let us retire for the rest of the night.”

Jude sighed in relief and stood, following Cardan out of the throne room. When they reached his chambers, Jude had no time to react as Cardan pinned her to the wall, holding her wrists above her head.

“You’re mine, Jude,” he said, stroking her wrists with his thumbs. “I love having you as my own, to do what I will with. You have no idea how deliciously appealing you looked on the dais, sitting in your throne and letting me touch you like the slut you are quickly, beautifully becoming. Tell me - are you enjoying yourself?”

“No, My Lord.”

“Are you lying?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Cardan smiled. “It’s not nice to lie, Jude.” He slapped her in the face, hard enough to sting and take her by surprise but softly enough not to leave a mark. Jude exclaimed in surprise.

Cardan knew he had taken a risk, that face slapping was something they had not discussed and something with which Jude might be wholly uncomfortable, but she said nothing, merely looked at the floor in guilt.

And she did feel guilty — guilty for lying to him about her enjoyment in one last, desperate attempt to pretend this wasn’t exactly what she needed, that she couldn’t already feel a glimmer of the feeling Cardan had described, that she wasn’t close to total surrender.

“Look at me,” Cardan said softly.

Jude looked at him, biting her lip gently, willing him to forgive.

“There’s something important which I neglected to tell you.” He continued stroking her wrists in small, reassuring circles. “After I have punished you for whatever infraction you’ve committed, it’s over. I harbor no more negative feelings about it, and you have no more repentance to do unless I explicitly tell you otherwise. A punishment is an absolution.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Jude said, lifting her head in an attempt to push the conflict from her mind. “I will not lie again.” She meant the promise.

Cardan bowed his head. “Noted and appreciated,” he said, before looking up at her, sternly but with mischief on his face.

“Now. Get on your knees.”

Jude dropped to her knees immediately, growing more and more eager to please, and reached up to undo the buttons of his breeches.

“No,” he said, and stilled her hands. “Take off your dress.”

She obeyed, sliding it over her head eagerly and casting it aside, leaving herself naked before him once more.

Cardan cast his own shirt over his head and undid his breeches himself, much to Jude’s disappointment, before sliding off the remainder of his clothes.

“Start slowly, and using only your mouth.”

Jude obeyed, leaning forward to kiss her way up and down the length of him, pausing to give particular attention to the head before moving back down. Cardan braced a hand against the wall behind her.

“Lick me. Stay slow, but be thorough.”

Jude did as instructed once more, licking and gently sucking her way around his cock, over the head, pausing to swirl her tongue around his balls.

After several minutes, Cardan gave his next order.

“Pull as much of me as you can into your mouth. You may use your hands now, and do go a bit more quickly.”

Jude smiled, hearing the effect she had on him in his voice, and proceeded to do as told, sucking him into her mouth and blowing him in earnest.

Cardan’s sounds were like a reward, as they always were on the rare occasions that she did this, and she smiled as she worked on him, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, desperately wanting to please.

“Jude,” he groaned, “yes, yes, like that.”

Quickly, Cardan went over the edge, spilling come into Jude’s mouth which she swallowed diligently before wiping her face with her hand. She smiled up at him when she finished, a mixture of sweetness and wicked pleasure on her face.

“Evil, talented girl,” was all he said before pulling her to her feet and pushing her across the room, onto the bed. “It’s my turn now.”

Jude did not point out that Cardan had, in fact, taken many turns already, merely lay on her back awaiting him. When he arrived, he quickly got back to the task at hand, spreading her legs and using his tongue to work her clit, alternating speeds to keep her from coming to the edge too quickly.

Still— after hours of torment, it was a matter of moments before she was at the edge, legs trembling hard beneath Cardan’s hands.

“May I come, My Lord, may I come?” she pleaded, close to begging, desperation evident in her voice.

“Yes,” he paused just long enough to say before resuming his ministrations.

He didn’t stop, nor even slow down, as she came, crying out and tangling her hands in his hair, chanting his name and “my lord” and “god, god, god” intermittently. Nor did he slow down when she came a second time, writhing beneath him. By the time she neared a third orgasm without a break, Jude had tears of pleasure and overstimulation in her eyes and was pleading with Cardan alternately to stop and keep going. He chose to continue, and she came four times before Cardan finally slowed to a stop and pulled back to look at her.

Cardan moved to the top of the bed and pulled Jude into his arms, head resting on his chest. She let out a slight whimper of protest, a part of her uncomfortable with this level of intimacy, but was too spent and needed to be held too badly to resist.

“Are you in a space where you can listen to me, my darling Jude?” Cardan asked, so heartbreakingly gentle in voice and touch that she felt as though her chest was cracking.

“Mm hmm,” she said in assent.

“Another important thing to remember about what we’re doing is that you must allow me to care for you. This is undeniably important. This sort of... play, if we might call it that, can only happen with the knowledge that I will care for you afterward. You cannot protest when I pull you into my arms after whatever we’ve been doing, whether punishment or pleasure. You cannot prevent me from tending to any injuries I may have caused or ensuring your safety, health, and wellbeing. If it is my responsibility to correct you, and to keep safely your power, then it is also my responsibility to care for you, and I take it quite seriously. Do you understand?”

“Yes, My Lord, I understand,” Jude tried to say, but it came out more like “hmmlord derstand.”

Cardan smiled tenderly down at Jude, and knew in that moment that he was much farther gone than he had ever suspected when it came to his feelings for the woman he held.

Jude, for her part, was terrified. Since her return from exile, she had never allowed herself this kind of intimacy with Cardan, and she was shocked by how desperately she desired it. She was mentally and bodily exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms, but her mind would not allow her that, setting off all the warning bells of the danger she could be getting herself into by allowing this, and with him.

But she had promised to be honest, and knew that he would consider keeping her thoughts a secret when they needed to be shared a lie of omission, so she spoke.

“I’m afraid,” she said.

“I know,” he replied, and for a moment they were silent. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, but if you’ll give me the time to do this right, I’ll prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of.”

Jude opened her eyes. “I want to,” she whispered, as though saying something shameful. “I don’t want this to end, but I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I do. I know.”

“Where did this resounding faith in my strength come from?” Jude’s words were teasing, but her sentiment was genuine.

“I’ve had it for a long time, I think. Since I’ve known you. I was cruel to you in part because it was easier than acknowledging my feelings and in part because I saw strength in you where in myself there was only weakness, and I hated you for that.”

For reasons Jude could not understand, the reminder that Cardan had ever hated her nearly brought tears to her eyes at this moment, but she remained silent as he continued.

“I now see that hating you for your strength was the solution of a child. You have my apologies and my regret.”

They both were silent, unspoken emotion crackling between them, for several minutes.

“Why can’t this be easy?” Jude said at last.

“It’s not too late,” Cardan whispered, and kissed the top of Jude’s head, the mortal curve of her ear, the tip of her nose. “Jude, admit that you need this.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I get to have it when it feels like giving up all that I’ve worked for.”

Cardan closed his eyes in frustration. “You’re giving up nothing, Jude! You would only be gaining a new form of freedom. You lose nothing by surrendering.”

“I lose the war between us.”

“What war!” Cardan exclaimed, raking his hands through his hair. “The war of children? The war of two people who have been horrible to each other and now have a chance to be good? There is no war for me, Jude - not any more.”

Jude was choking back tears now, impossibly distressed at having gone from the sweetness of a few moments ago to the harsh reality of their situation and of Cardan’s frustration with her.

“I’m sorry,” she started, but then Cardan was there and he was holding her again and comforting her and kissing her temples and oh god, Jude had never been so overwhelmed by emotion and sensation and desire.

“No, Jude, do not apologize. It was my responsibility to keep myself calm after putting you into that emotional place and I failed. The responsibility is mine, and I am truly sorry.”

Jude didn’t cry, not any more, but she came close now, squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears, and finally, finally assented.

“I don’t know what I can commit to, and I don’t know that I won’t back out at any moment, because I’m terribly, terribly afraid. What I do know is that I want this, and I’m willing to try.”

“That’s more than I expected from you, Jude,” and she could hear the grateful tone behind his words.

“We can try it all the time, if you still want to.” The words came out of Jude in a rush of nervousness, and Cardan took her trembling hands in his own.

“I would love to, Jude. Go get the paper and pen from earlier.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she said, already relieved to be back to this, showing her just how badly she did need this arrangement.

She returned with the paper, which Cardan quickly signed at the bottom.

“Sign this when you’re truly ready to begin,” he said. “I won’t rush you. You can take all the time you—“

With decisiveness, Jude signed the document.

#my fic #my posts #there we FUCKING GO #jurdan fic #tfota #the folk of the air #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #judecardan #the cruel prince #tcp #the wicked king #twk #post-the wicked king

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briyourmotherdown · 5 years ago

Text

Put On A Show, Darling - Chapter 1

Pairing: Brian May/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4137

Warnings: Language, some angst

Description: You and Brian have been best friends for over five years now, and you’ve loved him during most of that time. While you’ve been agonising over your hidden feelings, Brian’s gone and got himself a girlfriend. A serious one.

A/N: This is my first ever (published) fic, and I’m a little nervous about posting it, but I really hope you enjoy the first chapter with more to come soon. (Give me feedback ! I need to improve !!)

Enjoy :)

Everyone always told me that when I grow up, I’ll fall in love for the first time.

They told me that I would give my all for them, that they would be my everything.

That I’d fight to the ends of the earth for them, I’d brave the seven seas for them.

They told me to be careful, that I’d lose myself in them. That how easily they could lift me up, they could let me down. Break my heart, destroy my soul.

And now I’ve learned how it feels, to fall in love.

And I’ve learned the sting, the fervid burn that rages in your bones. But in my great affliction, he continues on. For they also told me the worst pain of all, when all of your affection, all of your pain, every single tidal wave of infatuation is all simply unrequited love.

The bright lights reflect against his skin, glowing from the blinding heat and the vigour of his performance. His eyes flitter up from his guitar a few times to scan over the crowd, the room overflowing with energy. Excitement, felicity, admiration.

You let yourself melt into the audience, heat crawling up your spine, hands shaking in exhilaration. you let yourself pretend for a moment that you’re just another fan. Just another fan staring up at him in adoration as he performs his art. Just another fan who hopes that just maybe he would glance in their direction. Just another fan who after tonight, can go home and rest, holding onto the sweet memories of seeing their favourite band in concert.

But you’re not.

You’ve been there from the start. When it was just two men trying to make it. You knew from the start he captivated you. Every fleeting glance had your heart racing and palms sweating. Every small touch had you reeling, internally begging for more. Just the smallest bit more.

It felt as if you were watching him from behind a double sided mirror, heart in your hand, but all he could see was his own reflection.

He was the movie, you were the viewer.

You should’ve made it clearer, you know that. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up so easily.

But you hid away those feelings, placing them gently in the back of your heart where you prayed he would never find them. You knew he would never find them.

It’s better that way.

For you are best friends, inseparable, shoulders to cry on.

But you could not cry on his shoulder for one thing, as you feared your confession would tumble from your lips before you had time to catch them.

I love you.

“You guys were incredible!” You greet the four men backstage, taking in their dishevelled appearances with a wide grin. You hope that no one notices your eyes flit to Brian one too many times, but you can’t help yourself.

“You think so?” He speaks up first, greeting his best friend with a hug. You close your eyes momentarily, gripping onto the moment before he pulls away all too soon, “Sorry, I’m all sweaty.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’ve seen you much worse.”

He grins at you, and you both share a beat of silence until he speaks once again, “We’re going to the pub after we get changed, you should come along.”

Your eyes light up, always loving the nights of drunken singing with the band, especially Brian, “I would love-“

“Brian!” You’re interrupted before you can answer, the all too sweet voice of the girl Brian is currently seeing.

“Go get changed so we can go, silly. Oh, hi Y/N!” Dani turns to you with a polite wave, and you can barely muster a smile, but of course you do, you have to.

“Hi Dani, how’ve you been?” You reply, turning your attention away from Brian and praying that both of them don’t notice your voice drop half an octave. Dani is a sweet girl, and as devastatingly heartbroken as you are, you can’t bring yourself to dislike her. She’s a lovely woman, who illustrates childrens’ books for a living, for god’s sake. You wish that you had a reason for the prickling feeling in your stomach whenever you see Dani with Brian. A reason more justifiable than your unspoken love for someone else’s lover.

“I’ve been great, thanks! Has Bri asked you to come out with us tonight? You should totally join us.”

“I just asked her, I have yet to get a reply.” He smiles, his sharp canines poking against his bottom lip and causing your stomach to flip.

“I would love to, you guys, but I have work in the morning and I’d rather be in the land of the living.”

You joke, hoping that it’ll hide the fact that you’re lying through your teeth. You do have work, that wasn’t a lie, but you’d much rather stay home with a cheesy romance novel and a hot chocolate than have to suffer through the couples stolen kisses and hushed giggles.

“Aw, that’s a shame. Another time, yeah?” Dani finds Brians hand, and your heart pulls.

“Of course.”

You smile at the pair, mostly focusing on Dani so you don’t have to look at Brian’s confused face. You always goes to post-concert pubs with the band, it’s almost tradition.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then?” Brian touches your shoulder, and you try not to flinch as you nod.

“If you’re coherent by then, yes.” You giggle, “You have a tendency to be a bit of a lightweight.”

“I do not!” He stammers, cheeks flushing pink.

“Anyway, I should really get going, sleep awaits.” Lies. “Stay safe, bye you two.”

And without another word, you turn around, clutching onto the unspoken feelings in your chest as you exit the venue, eyes welling with tears of frustration when you hear the loud laughter of the couple behind you.

You sink to the floor the moment the front door is shut behind you, a heavy sigh exiting your lungs as you cradle your head in your hands.

Five years.

Five years you’ve loved him.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t free your heart from his grasp. He’s got a hold on you, his grip so tight that it’s almost suffocating, but he doesn’t even realise.

No matter how many dates you go on with another man, there is never a second meeting. No matter how many drinks you down, his image always stays so clear. It’s like you’re being haunted by him, like the shadows you see in the corner of your eye at two am when no one else is home.

You’ve had so many chances to tell him, you just never could. You couldn’t ruin the friendship you both share. You couldn’t bear to have him walking on eggshells around you, to have him view you differently because he couldn’t reciprocate the same feelings.

Picking yourself off of the wooden floors, you trudge to your bedroom to peel off the concert-ridden clothing. You wore it for him. The pale yellow dress that he said complemented your eyes. He didn’t notice, he never does.

Moments later you’re sat on the shared sofa of your flat, cheesy romance novel in hand and hot chocolate long gone. You thought you’d enjoy the escapism, but you find yourself huffing at the too-easy fantasies. Love isn’t easy. Love can be torture. You close the book and set it in your lap.

You pick up your black notebook, the cover is slightly scraped and the pages are ripped in places from the frustration of a blocked mind. You pour your thoughts out in a river of smudged ink, scribbling down the hope that maybe one day he’d finally open his eyes to see that you’re right there, and always have been. The pages are full, handwriting barely legible as your eyes begin to droop, notebook still open in your lap as you drift off.

Your slumber is interrupted by a harsh scraping sound, and you recognise the sound as the front door that’s been broken for months, always scraping against the floor with a horrific screech. The landlord is yet to repair it. The sound is followed by two sets of giggles, followed by the sounds of shushing each other but soon returning to giggles. You sit up, closing your notebook and holding it in your lap as you rub at your sleepy eyes.

“Y/N? You’re still awake?” Brian slurs slightly, obviously just as drunk as the woman hanging off of him. He’s got lipstick smudges over his mouth and across his neck.

“I uh-“ You clear your throat, voice scratchy and hoarse from sleep, “I must’ve fallen asleep here.”

Dani playfully runs her hand down Brian’s chest and you swallow thickly.

“Don’t mind me, I’m off to bed anyway.” Rising to your feet, you offer a small wave to the couple. You can barely handle their affection towards each other in the day time when you’re wide awake, but it’s all too much when it’s late at night and you’re exhausted.

“We’ll try not to be too loud.” He laughs, finding his own drunken comment comical, Dani erupting into a fit of giggles along with him.

Your stomach drops, the familiar ache in your chest returning as you force a smile.

“Goodnight.”

The soft sheets of your bed welcome you with open arms as you approach it, falling into it with a huff.

Well, that fucking hurt.

And he doesn’t keep to his word either, as the muffled sounds of drunken passion reverberate through the two bedroom flat. The noise is still heard through the pillow pressed over your ears and the rain pelting on the window. A tear streams down your face as you finally shut your eyes, falling into a restless sleep once again.

The shrill, loud ringing of your alarm clock wakes you from your sleep, and you reach your arm out blindly to shut it off. Your hand lingers over it, letting it ring a bit longer simply to annoy the couple in the next room. They kept you up, they should suffer too.

But with a sigh, you decide not to let your feelings get the best of you, shutting off the alarm.

Hot shower steam soothes your aching muscles, the scent of vanilla and jasmine helping you to come around from sleep. Your wet hair is blow dried and pinned back into a low bun, a small amount of makeup smudged around your eyes and on your lips in order to liven yourself up. Taking a minute to look fixedly at your reflection, you notice the darkness under your eyes, similar to the dullness in your once glistening irises. You’ve never really enjoyed the way you look, always finding an imperfection some place or another. The feeling only worsened throughout the years of feeling unwanted.

With a sigh, you slip into your work uniform, grinning fakely at yourself in the mirror, an attempt to lighten your mood.

It’s seven o’clock in the morning when you arrive, just on time for you to scurry to the back room and put your bag and coat in your locker. The scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries is already wafting through the air as the chefs in the back prepare for the usually very busy Saturday mornings.

You wave a polite hello to your boss and begin wiping down the counters until customers begin coming in for the day. Your shift today is 7am to 7pm, a long one. This is how you spend your Saturdays—earning money to contribute to your rent. You work on weekdays as well, but not for as long as you do on Saturdays since you also attend university.

You’re a couple of years younger than Brian anyway, but he dropped out of university to pursue his dream while you continued to study. He’s immensely intelligent, showing you up in conversations at times, but you admire that about him. You’re no idiot, but Brian’s brain moves at a pace that is hard to keep up with at times. You notice the way he slows his diction when around other people, but speeds back up whenever he speaks to you. You remember the pride you felt when you first notice him do this, flattered that he thought you were able to keep up with him.

A ring pulls you from your reverie, the bell on the door jingling loudly as someone enters. “Y/N, darling!”

A grin overtakes your features as Freddie waltzes in, his stage persona barely noticeable in his casual attire. You love that he could be someone so flamboyant, so brazen whilst on stage, yet so gentle and unpretentious when the spotlights were off. He was so Freddie, and that’s what made him such an incredible friend.

Behind him stood John, a friendly smile just brushing his lips. Freddie tugs you into a tight hug the moment you walk around the counter, before pulling away and allowing you to quickly hug John.

“I’m happy you lot are here, but...why are you here?” You grab some menus from the cart near the door as you speak, motioning with your hand for them to follow you to a booth.

‘We missed you last night… and quite frankly we were a bit worried. You always celebrate with us after a gig.” Freddie scoots into the booth, followed by John.

With a quick glance around the corner to make sure no customers have come in, you sit down across from them. “I didn’t feel too well after the show, I think there was something off with my food.”

Freddie and John share a pointed look, “I thought you needed to sleep because of work in the morning?” Freddie holds up his fingers in air quotes.

“Brian told you?” You sigh at being caught in a lie, resting your head in your hands.

“Dani. We knew from the moment she told us that something wasn’t right. Care to explain why our darling friend couldn’t celebrate with us?”

“I just wasn’t feeling it last night, guys.” The bell on the door rings and you stand quickly to greet and seat the elderly couple, offering them a tea or coffee.

“Bullshit.” John shakes his head, and you shush him when the elderly man turns around.

“It’s not, it’s just that, that-“

“You didn’t want to be there when Brian and Dani practically shagged on the dance floor?” Freddie pipes up.

The elderly woman audibly gasps now.

“Freddie!” You cringe at the image put into your head.

“Well?” He continues.

“I...I...you know? About my feelings?” Your shoulders slump when he nods, John joining in.

“Darling, everyone knows except Brian. Even Roger bloody knows.” John snorts at Freddie’s remark.

“Does…?”

“Does Dani know? I think so, yes.”

You groan and turn around to fetch the couples order, also taking a moment to regain your composure before turning back to the two men.

‘Does she hate me?” You pour some coffee into two cups for them, and brew a tea for yourself.

“The short answer is no, but I’m almost certain that she feels threatened by you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’re the only one that really understands that guitarist. He only ever really opens up to you, not even us!”

Your heart skips a beat at the slightest sliver of hope that something may be there, before you quickly swallow it down. You are best friends, nothing more.

“We’re just best friends, she has nothing to worry about.”

“Oh darling, I’m not worried about her, I’m worried about you.”

“Me?”

“How much do you…”

“Love him?”

“I was going to say like him, darling,” He raises a brow, “but I seem to have gotten my answer.”

You place your head in your hands once again, shaking it slightly with a strangled groan.

“Oh dear.” John speaks, glancing at you with pity in his eyes.

“I can’t help it.” You wince.

“For how long?”

“Five years.”

“Good god!”

“Freddie!” You shush him, glancing around the cafe, “could you be any louder?”

“Oh, much, but that’s not the point here. Five bloody years? And you haven’t told him how you feel?”

“I’ve got close a few times, but I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. He means everything to me and if hiding the way I feel about him means that he stays in my life, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“But what if he feels the same way?”

“He doesn’t, but either way, that's not a risk I’m willing to take.” Standing up again, you walk behind the counter to wait for more customers, bringing your empty cup with you.

“Y/N, you can’t just run from your feelings. It’ll break you.” You hear john from behind you as you turn to put the cup in the sink.

“It’s broken me for a long time, Deaky. I can handle it.”

...

The wind whips at your hair, pulling and misplacing the strands, but you welcome it, breathing in the crisp air in attempt to clear out the heavy feeling in your lungs.

Work is long over, but you simply couldn’t face Brian. You didn’t want to see his shoes by the door accompanied by a smaller pair that weren’t yours. After Freddie and John bid you goodbye, work passed by agonisingly slow. Your mind was occupied by thoughts of what could’ve been, it even dared to imagine a time where Brian loved you back.

The city looks much too large from where you’re standing, the rooftop of a small bar you and Brian both came to know. You’d both sit in their tattered leather chairs, chatting over drinks for hours and hours until he became a bit too tipsy to walk home, and you’d practically carry him to a taxi.

You’re standing in the exact place you once almost told him you loved him.

“Wow.” He breathed as you both climbed the last step, revealing the twinkling lights that seemed to stretch forever.

Your heart beat with adrenaline, from both sneaking into the restricted access of the roof and from how good he looked in the low light. You couldn’t even speak.

“Why didn’t we find this sooner?” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side.

“No clue.” You melt into him the same way you’ve done many times before. The same way you do when you both pass out watching movies on his tiny television. The same way you do when work and uni becomes too much and he holds you close to him, whispering softly that everything will be alright.

You both stumble slightly as you lean your weight on him, laughing together as you steady yourselves.

“Careful love, I’m afraid I’m a bit drunk.”

You both laugh, your eyes lifting up to look at his profile as he continues to stare at the city ahead. Your breath hitches, your laughter ceasing. The silence causes him to turn to you, glancing down to be met with your eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“I uh…”

He cocks his head to the side, the glow shadowing over one half of his face. The sheer intensity of his gaze and the sound of cars whooshing past below has your knees weakening, tightening your grip on his arm just slightly.

This is it, this is your chance.

Tell him!

“Y/N?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I...you...you have a crumb on your face.”

Damn it, you idiot!

“Oh?” He reaches up to wipe his face with his hand, “Did I get it?”

“Yeah, you got it.” You’re happy that he doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks as you finish your sentence, tears of frustration threatening to spill over.

Brian smiles once more, squeezing your shoulder before he turns his head away from you once again.

He doesn’t see the tear glide down your cheek.

You frown in disappointment at the memory.

Squinting in the dim light to read the time on your watch, you sigh at the realisation that Brian is probably worried as to why you’re not home yet. You usually get home around 7:30, it now being 10:00.

So you begin your walk back home, feet dragging against the ground. With each passing step, the more you don’t want to go home. What if Dani is still there?

The feeling of dread only grows bigger in the pit of your stomach, stopping in your tracks outside of your front door. The deep purple paint is cracked and peeling.

Suddenly the door swings open, the breeze from the speed fanning over your face.

“Oh, hi-“

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Brian doesn’t let you finish, pulling you inside by your sleeve and closing the door behind the two of you.

Dani’s shoes aren’t by the door.

“I got caught up at work, it’s no big dea-“

“Don’t lie to me, I called your work and they said you clocked out on time.” He cuts you off again, arms crossed over his chest.

‘I-“

“You’re always back at 7:30! Where were you?”

“Listen-“

“Explain!”

“I’m trying to, shut up!” You yell back at him, throwing your arms up in frustration.

He closes his mouth and presses his lips into a firm line, narrowing his eyes as he awaits an explanation.

“As I was saying,” you put emphasis on the word, “I just went to Jones’s for a bit, the roof. Needed some air and just lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, uncrossing his arms and sitting on the stool next to the island. “I was worried, I thought something happened to you.”

“I’m fine. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“That’s hardly the point and you know it.”

You sigh, shifting on your feet. Your work clothes are feeling exceedingly uncomfortable as Brian stares at you like a child who’s just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry.”

He exhales through his nose, standing up from the stool to embrace you in a hug. You hesitate, but wrap your arms around his tall frame and sink into him.

“Don’t do that again, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

You close your eyes, taking a breath,

“I promise.”

He pulls away from the hug first, walking into the kitchen to fill the kettle with some water, “How was Jones’s anyway?”

“The actual bar, or the roof?”

“Both.” He turns on the gas cooktop and sets the pot on top.

You jump onto the countertop, legs swinging over the edge, “The bar, although cute, still smells like cheese.”

He scrunches his face up, leaning back onto the counter across from you.

“The roof? Still beautiful. It was different tonight though, foggy.”

“Couldn’t see Big Ben?”

“Afraid he just wasn’t big enough.”

“Shame.” He hums, nodding his head as a curl falls in front of his eyes.

“This damn hair.” He huffs, trying to blow the strand out of his vision.

“Hey, be nice to the mane. I rather adore it.” You lean forward, almost falling off of the counter to push the strand behind his ear.

To stop you from falling, he moves forwards so that he’s stood in between your legs, hands pressed onto the counter on either side of your thighs. Your hand brushes against the side of his face as you push his hair out of his eyes, it falling back in place a few times before finally staying put. You don’t realise how close your faces are until your gaze shifts from his hair, noticing his hazel eyes right in front of yours.

The air feels thick as your eyes meet, and you can swear that you can hear his heart beat just as fast as yours. Your hand drifts from his hair to cup his cheek, his eyes glancing down at your lips.

No, he’s got Dani. You’re imagining it.

The kettle begins to whistle, breaking you both apart as he scurries to turn off the heat. You sit with red cheeks, his equally so as he brews the pair of you two cups of tea. You thank him quietly as he hands you your cup.

Taking a small sip, you push yourself off of the countertop, “I’m going to head to bed. I...goodnight, Brian.” You want to say something, anything about what just happened but you just can’t find the words.

He glances at you with a shy smile, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

And with that, you scurry away, placing your cup on the side table before flopping face down onto your mattress. You want to scream, yell, groan, do anything, but you’re aware of Brian in the next room. So containing yourself, you get ready for bed and shut your eyes, tea becoming cold as you drift to sleep.

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messagefromtheveins · 6 years ago

Text

Dirty Little Secret (Who Has To Know?) Part 8

A/N: Remember when I said that the new chapter might take a while? Surprise! ... I obviously don’t have a life. But here we are. New concept, so many new ideas, and more chapters than I had planned at first. I’m not even going to pretend like I have everything planned out already, but the next few chapters are in the works!

Words: 2.4k

Pairing: Shawn/Reader, Cez/Reader

So maybe he noticed that his so brilliant plan wasn't as easy as it had seemed while he had been full of medications. But he figured he could do this. Babysteps- that was what he told himself over and over. Win your heart step by step. But it was a bit too late when he realized that his plan wouldn't work out.

His heart did a little skip as he stepped into the dressing room backstage and found you sitting at the table, your laptop in front of you. "Hey, Andrew is searching for you," he told you, his eyebrows furrowing as he received no reaction from you for several seconds.

"I'll be there in a minute," you muttered, your gaze still on the screen in front of you.

Stepping closer, he came to a stop behind you and looked over your shoulder to see that you were on the webpage of an airline. "Whatcha doin’?" he murmured, having to stop himself from the urge to wrap his arms around you and kiss your neck.

"I'm changing my flight for the break."

Immediate panic spread through his chest. You couldn't change your flight, he hadn't gotten the chance to ask you to come home with him yet. "Why? Did something with the timing not add up?" he asked, desperately hoping that you weren't changing the destination of your flight. He hadn't even gotten to ask you yet.

"No," you mumbled, his heart dropping as he finally found the reason why you were changing it just when you spoke up. "I'm going to England instead of home," you told him, his heart skipping and dropping and aching as you clicked the little button on the bottom right corner that officially changed your flight info.

"What are you doing in England?" he asked quietly, already expecting the worst. He forced himself to keep a neutral look on his face as you turned around in your chair to look at him, the way your eyes were so full of excitement making his heart hurt even more. He knew exactly what you would be doing in England- or more specifically who you'd be doing in England- but his heart broke all over as you said it out loud.

"Cez asked me to come."

You hated long flights. You absolutely despised them. Even though you didn’t have endlessly long legs like Shawn did you still felt like you didn't have enough room and overall it was just uncomfortable. Especially when you flew privately and didn't have the luxury of work paying for first class- you refused to spend your money on a ridiculously expensive first class ticket. But flying with someone else always made it better. Especially with Cez. Something about his calm aura always helped you relax. He always knew what to say to make you feel better again. And he was always there to hold your hand when turbulences hit- which scared the hell out of you. It didn't matter how many hours you had collectively spend on an airplane before, you never got used to the turbulences.

But in the end it was all worth it. You had already forgotten about the long flight as the cab drove through the beautiful streets of London, Cez completely silent beside you as he let you look out of the window with fascination written in your eyes. He knew how much you loved this city and he was convinced that the change of scenery might be good for you.

And his apartment made everything even better. Penthouse loft in a rather fancy complex building, lots and lots of open space with big windows. The guest bedroom- where you would be staying- was bigger than your bedroom at home and the bed was so comfortable that you considered asking him if you could move in with him.

"You're adorable," he grinned as you looked around the open space of his living room, kitchen and dining space with wide and curious eyes before he held his hand out to you. "Let me show you something."

His fingers intertwined with yours before he led you over to the stairs into the upstairs hallway and past a closed door that you figured was probably the master bedroom. He stopped in front of a huge balcony door leading out to a rooftop balcony that was just as big as the rest of the apartment. "You have to be kidding me," you whispered under your breath while he opened the doors, your hand pulling out of his as you immediately stepped outside.

Stepping over to the railing, you looked out over a breathtaking view of London, the wind lightly playing with your hair as he stepped up beside you. "It's so beautiful here," you mumbled, "I'm almost offended that you didn't take me here sooner.”

He chuckled and playfully bumped his shoulder against yours. "Promised that I'd take you here, remember?"

He had. Back when you had first started working together he had promised to take you on a trip to London after learning how much you adored his hometown. You hadn't forgotten about it. Neither had he. But he knew that he had chosen the right moment to invite you here. Both of you knew that you would be going insane if you were home right now.

Tearing your gaze off the view, you looked up to him with a carefree expression written in your eyes he had last seen weeks ago. The fact that you were so much happier by simply being here made his heart roar with pride.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands and placed a kiss on his cheek before you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck. "Thank you for taking me here, Cez," you mumbled while his arms slung around your middle, holding you close to him and rubbing a hand over your shoulders.

"You're so welcome, darling," he whispered.

His gaze was on you as he followed you into the arena, his mind racing with so many thoughts that he got dizzy. Or maybe he got dizzy because he felt sick. You were going home with Cez. For two whole weeks. And you were so excited about it, a little bounce in your steps that made your ponytail swing from one side to the other.

Was he fighting back the tears? He wasn't even sure anymore. Out of all the things he had figured could go wrong when he would confess his feelings for you he hadn't expected that Cez would get into his way.

From the other side of the arena he caught Brian's gaze who gave Shawn a confused look, sensing that something wasn't alright. But he simply shook his head and averted his gaze, only to look straight at Cez who was standing off to the side on his phone. His jaw clenched and his despair was replaced by anger. That lucky bastard.

Had you been sneaking around with Cez too? Gotten some alone time with him? Had he gotten to have you all to himself for an entire night? Or even more? His thoughts went wild, putting images into his head that had his hands curling into fists, though he wasn’t even sure if any of it had actually happened.

His eyes moved over to you again where you were discussing something with Andrew. It only took a simple smile from you as you caught him looking to have his erratic heartbeat calm down. His clenched hands relaxed as he weakly returned your smile.

You had done nothing wrong. You weren't in a relationship with either one of them, even if Shawn oh so desperately wanted you to be his girl. You were allowed to sleep around, even if it was with Cez. You didn't know that Shawn was helplessly falling for you. You didn't know that he felt like his heart was ripped into two as he realized that he had lost you before he had even gotten a chance to be with you.

It knocked the breath out of him, his body trembling and tears gathering in his eyes. How did no one notice that he was falling apart right here, in the middle of the arena? Why was no one coming to catch him?

Someone firmly grabbed his arm and dragged him towards one of the exits. The ringing in his ears was too loud to make out what Brian was saying, tears blurring his sight as he followed his friend leading him backstage.

Cez would get to have you all to himself for two weeks. He would get to show you the city you loved with your whole heart. He would get the chance to make you fall in love with him- the one thing Shawn wouldn't get to do anymore.

You had chosen Cez over him.

He showed you the pretty sides of London that you had never gotten to see before. He took you to his favorite pubs. He took you to concerts of bands you had never heard of before, but enjoyed every single one of them. He convinced you to mediate with him on the rooftop balcony, high above the stress of the town below you. You had to admit, you couldn't remember ever having felt so relaxed as in that moment, sitting on a throw blanket on the ground with every single muscle in your body absolutely relaxed.

No matter what he did or where he took you, he really managed to make the trip memorable to you.

It was a rainy afternoon- you had cursed all of rainy England just that morning for ruining your planned trip to Hyde Park. You were sitting on the couch in front of the huge windows with a book you had taken from the big bookshelf stacked with books upon books- so many books that you had asked him if he had robbed a library- as he approached you.

He smiled as he spotted the familiar cover of his favorite book in your hands. "How is it?" he asked and nodded towards the book.

"I really like it so far," you grinned and closed it as he sat down beside you. "What’s up?"

"Just a suggestion," he started, "feel free to say no if you want to have a lazy day in." He grinned as you looked at him with intrigued and slightly impatient eyes. "Wanna go on a little trip out of town?"

–—–—–—–—–—–

"Can we go on the Ferris Wheel?" you gasped in excitement, your eyes pleading and reminding him of the reaction of a little kid. The fact that you were nibbling around on cotton candy that was almost twice the size of your head didn't make it any better. The drive to Margate had been longer than you had expected when he had suggested to get out of town, but you hadn't complained at all. You had gotten to see so much of England while he had been navigating his way through the streets with an ease that made it clear that it wasn't his first trip there.

You had been wondering during the entire drive where he would take you- and you had some places in mind. But the last thing you had expected to see was the sight of the ocean. You didn't mind that the sand was cold and the water was even colder as you dipped a foot in- the sound of the waves and the smell in the air put you at ease immediately. And just a short walk away from the beach was a little amusement park where he took you after he was sure that you had enjoyed the ocean enough… for now.

He chuckled and made a motion for you to lead the way, following you with a grin and watching how you almost bounced with excitement. "You really shouldn't think that a grown woman can get so excited over a simple Ferris Wheel."

"Excuse me," you gasped and turned around to him, "that is rude, sir."

"Hey, I'm not saying it’s a bad thing," he defended himself and held his hands up in surrender. "It's one of the things I adore most about you, actually," he told you and saw how your playful features shifted into curiosity, "how you can appreciate the little things in life that others don't even pay much attention to."

A grin spread over his lips as he noticed that your cheeks got rosy, followed by a quiet chuckle as you sighed and turned back to the line. You couldn't stop yourself from briefly closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a gentle kiss on the side of your head. It didn't take too long until the two of you climbed into the little cabin that fit both of you just perfectly, sharing your cotton candy with him while you slowly made your way up.

"Hold on," you mumbled as you caught sight of the seemingly endless ocean, the sun just starting to set. It gave you such a romantic feeling that you just wanted to cuddle into his side- the fact that he had his arm stretched out over the back of the very uncomfortable seat didn't make it any better. "Did you trick me into going on a date with you?"

He laughed loudly beside you and shook his head. "May I remind you of the fact that it was your idea to take a ride?"

"Yeah," you squinted your eyes at him in a way that was more adorable than intimidating, "but you wanted to go here. You probably knew that I want to go on the Ferris Wheel. This was all part of your plan!" You gasped in realization and repeatedly nudged a finger against his chest.

Grinning widely, he took your hand into his to stop you from attacking him. "Yes, darling. You exposed my masterplan," he played along, "I knew that you would decide to go on this during sunset so I can wait until we're at the very top before I kiss you. All of that just so you can proceed to throw up on me, because you always say that clichés like that make you sick.”

"I'm on to you, Darke," you said and pointed your cotton candy at him in a dramatic way, though couldn't stop yourself from grinning as he took a big bite and gave you a wink.

You didn't really think about it as his hand rested on your thigh during the drive home.

S.Mendes+Team Taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @alone-in-madness @waitonmedarling @shawnase @rechema

DLS Taglist: @someoneunimportantxx @shawn-mendes-thirst @hi-my-name-is-cass @havethetimeeofyourlifee @onmyshawn @ourboyshawn @beingmadisntalwaysbad @perfectywrong @liliane106 @selenesybill @aargyy (okay for real I have no idea what Tumblrs problem is -.-) @dylshoney @unicorn-glitter-princess @narrystoran4eva

(feel free to message me if you want to be moved/removed)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x reader #cez darke #shawn peter raul mendes #writing

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gb-fics · 5 years ago

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A Man In Pain

Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

Note: This story is for Golden Bomber’s newest PV. The song is ... about your neck hurting. So, the story is about neck pain, too. Please, check out the video here; the song is great fun: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7CuDlJqWrc&pbjreload=10

Kiryuuin Shou was a man who knew pain.

He knew the pain of sore muscles after a concert.

He knew the pain in his throat, back when singing had become almost unbearable.

He knew the pain of lying awake at night, when falling asleep seemed impossible and the sadness overwhelming.

He knew the pain of having to pay taxes and parting with money, that he could have hoarded on his bank account otherwise.

He knew the pain of unrequited love, whenever Kyan Yutaka laughed.

The pain in his neck, however, was new.

“Argh”, he groaned and pressed a hand against his neck as if the pain was really coming from the outside and he had to shield his body from it.

“My neck is killing me”, he added and let himself sink onto the hotel bed with his face down.

He pressed it into the white linen of the pillow, aware that he would probably leave stains on it. He had removed his make-up and taken a shower already, but no matter how throughout he cleaned his face, some leftovers of concealer always remained and dirtied sheets and towels in the colour of his skin. Sometimes, Shou thought that his face had secret wrinkles and hidden creases even he didn’t know about. Sometimes, he thought that his skin was coming off.

“You probably headbanged too hard at the concert tonight”, Yutaka said.

“Probably”, Shou mumbled.

His voice got swallowed by the pillow completely and he wasn’t sure Yutaka had even heard him. He should probably lift his head. It was getting hard to breath, too. But the fabric felt cool against his face and as long as there was only darkness in front of his eyes, Shou could pretend that nothing mattered for a little while.

“Also, you are growing old”, Yutaka added.

Shou turned his head now, placing his cheek on the pillow instead. It was uncomfortable warm by now. His body and muffled breath had heat it up.

He had turned his head away from the wall, so he could watch Yutaka walking around the room. He was already in his pyjamas, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. He kept running to and fro between the small bathroom and the second bed without rhyme or reason. Not moving, Shou followed him with his eyes.

He wondered if Yutaka knew how much Shou liked to watch him when they were sharing a hotel room during the tour like this. He liked how his hair was always dripping after the shower as if he didn’t bother with a towel at all, but skipped right to the hairdryer. He liked the tapping of his bare feet on the floor, because he never used the slippers the hotel provided. He liked how the screen of his mobile lit up his profile after they had switched off the lights already.

He also wondered if Yutaka knew how much Shou’s chest hurt, when he watched him like that. It wasn’t a sharp pain like someone had stabbed him. It was the searing pain of unrequited love, as if someone had poured acid all over his ribcage, and now it was eating away his body until it would reach his heart, and once it did, Shou would dissolve completely.

Yutaka finally turned off the lights in the bathroom and walked over to the bed. Tap, tap, his bare feet went.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, eyeing Shou as if he was considering something.

“I could give you a massage”, he offered.

Shou snorted. Partly, because he did not believe that Yutaka would actually do something like that. Partly, because the thought of Yutaka’s hands on his neck, on his shoulders, on his back, made his face heat up and he wanted to cover his own embarrassment somehow.

“As if, seriously”, he said.

“No, I mean it”, Yutaka said and got up from the bed again. He seemed weirdly eager all of a sudden.

Shou stared at the window behind Yutaka. The curtain was drawn. Outside it was already dark and no light was falling in through the dark blue fabric. It looked somewhat filthy, although he could not make out any stains. He couldn’t explain where that impression was coming from.

“A massage doesn’t help against muscle aching. And if I strained it, I should favour my neck, not let you mistreat it.”

“If I’m gentle, it will help you relax”, Yutaka insisted and took a step towards Shou’s bed.

Shou was still looking past him without moving. Watching Yutaka when he was not paying attention was one thing. But when they were alone together, it sometimes felt weird to meet his eyes. Shou didn’t want him to notice that he was staring.

“You are never gentle with me”, Shou said.

“You know that’s not true”, Yutaka protested. He was speaking softly, though.

“What do you even care?”, Shou mumbled.

Yutaka had now reached the bed, putting a knee on the mattress next to Shou and pausing. It seemed as if he couldn’t decide if to get on the bed or remain standing in front of it. Now, he was frozen in the movement in between.

“I need you to stay in good shape”, Yutaka said. “We are bandmembers, remember? Your neck is important for singing. It’s not like you broke a leg. In that case, I just wouldn’t care.”

Shou chuckled and turned his head lightly. His cheek was rubbing against the pillow, his face almost buried again.

“I’ll better watch out not to break any bones again, then”, he said dryly.

“Just let me try”, Yutaka said and finally climbed on the bed. Obviously, he had made his decision.

Shou felt himself tense up, although he had already guessed Yutaka’s intention. He swung his leg to Shou’s other side, kneeling down on top of him. Shou could sense his legs pressing against either side of his hips.

Shou felt vulnerable, lying flat on his stomach with Yutaka on top of him. He didn’t feel this helpless, because of what Yutaka might do to him. He felt helpless for all the things Shou would let him do right now, if only Yutaka wanted to.

Yutaka lowered his weight, sitting down on Shou’s butt. He was heavy, but not unbearable, so he was probably relying on the strength in his legs for support. His body was warm. Shou could feel it through the fabric of his pants.

He turned his head, pressing his face into the pillow completely now. He didn’t want Yutaka to see him. He wanted his face to feel less hot. He wanted to suffocate, if the pain got too bad.

He thought of Yutaka’s crotch so close to his butt. Wondered if he would be able to feel it, if Yutaka had an erection. Knew that Yutaka didn’t have an erection. His chest hurt. Acid was eating away to his heart. Soon he would disappear. Soon, he would just stop breathing.

Yutaka placed his hands on Shou’s shoulders, his thumbs hesitantly rubbing his neck as if trying to find the hurting spot.

“There?”, he asked quietly.

In spite of the pillow that already drowned out the world around him, Shou had closed his eyes, too.

Yutaka’s hands were warm and gentle and only where he touched him, Shou felt real.

He gave a vague muttering, that could mean anything at all.

Carefully, Yutaka massaged the line of his neck, that felt tense and calloused.

Shou’s body was falling apart. Lately, he was starting to feel more and more invisible, especially when he was around Yutaka. Everyone saw him. The fans did, the haters did, the cameras did. Only Yutaka didn’t seem to notice him. He didn’t notice the way Shou’s eyes followed him through the room, nor the way he shuddered whenever Yutaka brushed against him carelessly. He was invisible to the one person that mattered and by now, Shou felt unreal. His chest was dissolving, his face was coming off.

Right now, too, his body seemed to fall away and disappear right beneath Yutaka, because he just wasn’t aware of it. Only the part of his neck that Yutaka was touching, existed. His back, that wanted to be caressed, didn’t exist. His lips, that wanted to be kissed, didn’t exist. His butt, that … well, his butt didn’t exist either. Shou’s body wasn’t real, because Yutaka wasn’t paying attention to it.

“Is it helping?”, Yutaka asked.

His neck still hurt. His chest, now, hurt, too.

“You are making it worse”, Shou pressed out.

His voice sounded hoarse to himself and at the verge of breaking. Maybe the pillow would muffle the sounds enough to hide the tears in it. Maybe Yutaka wouldn’t notice, because he could not hear Shou as well as he could not see him.

Yutaka’s hands pulled back.

Shou expected him to climb down from him now, but for a moment, Yutaka just stayed in place without touching him.

“I’m sorry”, he said. “I just wanted to try.”

“Well, it doesn’t help”, Shou announced harshly and turned his head.

He still couldn’t see Yutaka like that, but he could breath again. His voice was back under control. Shou had a lot of practice at not letting his feelings show. Too often they were alone, too often they were touching. By now, he could fall apart without anyone noticing.

“I’m sorry”, Yutaka repeated. It was rare for him to apologize so much.

His weight finally disappeared. The mattress underneath him shifted, as Yutaka climbed down from the bed.

“You should keep your neck warm, though. I think I have a scarf somewhere around here.”

“I have my own scarf”, Shou protested. “But it will be too hot.”

He closed his eyes. Right now, he couldn’t stand to watch Yutaka moving around the room. He heard his footsteps, though. Tap, tap.

“Here it is”, he called out.

“I told you, I don’t want it”, Shou said.

He realized himself that he sounded grumpy. Yutaka didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. He was just trying to be nice. But his kindness made it harder to become invisible again. Once Yutaka looked at him, Shou wanted to remain existing.

“Warmth is the best cure”, Yutaka insisted and walked over again.

He put a grey, woollen scarf around Shou’s shoulders like an additional blanket. The back of his neck felt very warm underneath.

Shou kept his eyes shut and waited for Yutaka to leave. Instead, he heard rustling next to the bed.

Blinking slowly, Shou opened his eyes again.

Yutaka had knelt down next to the end of the bed. His face was almost eyelevel with Shou now. Without moving, Shou had no other option but to stare right into his face. Yutaka’s eyes were dark. He met them rarely, nowadays.

“Is there anything else I can do?”, Yutaka asked.

It was strange to experience him that caring, but not unfamiliar. Yutaka had a caring trait about him, that he didn’t show to everyone. Shou was pretty sure, that Yutaka showed it to him most of all.

“I’ll be fine”, he said quietly.

“Are you sure?”, Yutaka inquired.

He reached out and pushed a strand of hair back behind Shou’s ear. His fingers remained lingering against Shou’s cheek for a moment.

“Sure”, Shou said.

He pressed his eyes shut again. He wanted Yutaka to leave. He wanted him to make things a little easier for Shou. He was tired of hurting all the time.

“Shou”, Yutaka said quietly and put his hand onto Shou’s shoulder for a brief moment. It sounded as if he wanted to say something else and Shou was scared that he had looked at him, that he had noticed, that he had heard. The only thing worse than being invisible to Yutaka, was being visible and rejected. He wouldn’t dissolve. He would shatter into a million little pieces and each of the shards would keep on hurting, if he didn’t manage to mend them back together. Shou wasn’t good at mending.

He kept quiet, and he kept his eyes closed and his lips pressed together.

Yutaka sighed and his hand disappeared. Shou heard him get up and return to his own bed.

“We should go to sleep, I guess”, he heard him say.

Yutaka’s voice was far away. Although he had only retreated to the other side of the room, the distance between them seemed almost unbridgeable now.

Sometimes, Shou thought that Yutaka knew. And sometimes, on very few occasions only, Shou moreover thought that Yutaka didn’t mind. Then he wondered if the insisting on a massage, if a hand on his cheek that lingered a little too long, or a scarf that was supposed to keep him warm, actually meant more. Maybe those gestures were Yutaka’s way of taking the first step.

But then Shou thought of all the things that could go wrong. Of what would happen, if the gestures weren’t gestures and they didn’t mean anything at all. He was scared of being shattered. But he was also scared of breaking up the band. He was scared of bothering Yutaka and scared of being judged by everyone. He was scared it would make work harder and he was scared of troubling the fans. If he managed to just fade away quietly, at least he wouldn’t hurt anyone but himself.

If Yutaka wanted to reach him, just taking a step wasn’t enough. He would have to come all the way. Shou was too scared to move.

“Good night”, he said.

A soft click resounded in the room, as Yutaka switched off the lights. The darkness behind Shou’s eyelids became even darker.

He wondered if Yutaka was still scrolling on his mobile. He wondered if the screen was illuminating his profile. He wondered if his lips would curl up in a smile, whenever he saw a funny post.

Shou wanted to open his eyes and check on him badly. He wanted to watch Yutaka, because that was what he always wanted to do.

To eliminate the temptation, he rolled to the side, turning his back towards Yutaka’s bed and his face towards the white wall of the hotel room.

He groaned as he moved.

Lying still, he had almost forgotten how sore the rest of his body felt. It wasn’t just the neck. It was his back, too, and his legs that felt heavy and painful. Today on stage, he had really overdone it.

“The neck?”, Yutaka asked.

“Everything”, Shou groaned. “The neck, the shoulders, the back, the arms, the legs.”

The scarf had fallen over his shoulder and was now touching Shou’s cheek. It smelled of Yutaka.

“Stay warm”, Yutaka reminded him.

“For fuck’s sake, Yutaka”, Shou called out. “Warmth doesn’t help against everything!”

The scarf in his face made him angry, but if he moved his arm, he would have to move his shoulders as well, and the pain would grow worse. But the kindness hurt, too. Yutaka’s smell all around him hurt.

“You could at least let me try to help you!”, Yutaka returned, now also raising his voice.

“You don’t know what kind of pain I’m dealing with”, Shou spit out.

He wanted to take the words back immediately, because they gave away too much. But a part of him had also wanted to get them out. A part of him had wanted to force Yutaka to finally listen. In the dark, it was easier to speak. In the dark, no one could see you anyway.

“I know”, Yutaka said, very softly.

Shou’s chest felt weird. It wasn’t hurting. It wasn’t fluttering. It was just very cold.

Yutaka wasn’t supposed to know.

“I could help with that pain, too”, he added. “But you won’t even let me close to you.”

“You are making it worse”, Shou repeated the words he had spoken earlier.

This time, even Yutaka couldn’t miss out on their true meaning.

“I could make it better, too”, Yutaka said. “If you gave me a fair chance. But you are so scared I will hurt you, that you won’t even let me try.”

Shou pressed his eyes close again. This time, it was to hold back the tears.

Too scared to move, still.

“How would you even try?”, he forced out.

His voice was even, more or less. Long practice there, too.

It wasn’t just a question. He was begging Yutaka to take another step. All of the steps, until the pain in Shou’s chest would vanish. With the right answer, it might disappear.

For a long time, there was nothing but silence.

Then Shou heard rustling from the other bed. Tap, tap. Bare feet on the floor. Hesitant steps. Several of them.

Shou’s heart beat violently.

His blanket was pulled back. The mattress sunk under additional weight. Yutaka lay down. He wrapped his arm around Shou from behind.

“I’d keep you warm”, he said.

Shou inhaled deeply. It sounded shaky.

Yutaka’s chest was resting against his back, keeping it warm. His legs were against the back of Shou’s legs, keeping them warm. His hand was pressing against his chest, slowly melting the cold away. He didn’t feel like dissolving, he didn’t feel like shattering. Held like this, his body was real and present.

“Because, you know”, Yutaka mumbled and the scarf was pulled down a little from Shou’s neck. “Warmth helps with everything.”

His lips were soft against Shou’s neck. They felt warm, too.

“Maybe it does”, Shou whispered back quietly and took Yutaka’s hand, entwining their fingers in front of his chest.

Kiryuuin Shou was a man who knew pain.

He knew the pain of having to pay taxes and parting with money, that he could have hoarded on his bank account otherwise.

He knew the pain of lying awake at night, when falling asleep seemed impossible and the sadness overwhelming.

He knew the pain in his throat, back when singing had become almost unbearable.

He knew the pain of sore muscles after a concert.

But when Kyan Yutaka held him in his arms like this, he almost didn’t hurt at all.

#Golden Bomber #Kiryuuin Shou #Kyan Yutaka #kirikyan #fanfiction #fanfic

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starrynights-and-rainydays · 5 years ago

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Vanity Fair published an excerpt From the Call Me by Your Name Sequel!!!!!!!! OH MY I CAN’T WAIT.

I was just finishing a master class devoted to the last movement of Beethoven’s D minor sonata when suddenly, at the door, there he was, standing with his hands in the pockets of his blue blazer, looking a touch gawky for such an elegant man, and yet not in the slightest bit uncomfortable.

He held the door for the six or seven who were starting to leave the hall, and seeing they were filing out without holding the door or thanking him, he smiled broadly at them, finally thanking them for the tip. I must have been beaming. What a lovely way to surprise someone.

“You’re not displeased then?”

I shook my head. Like you needed to ask.

“What were you planning after class?”

“I usually have coffee or a juice somewhere.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Mind if I join?” I mimicked.

I took him to my favorite café where I go after teaching and where sometimes a colleague or a student joins me as we sit and watch people race along the sidewalks at this time of day—people on last-minute errands, others looking to put off heading home and shutting their door to the world, and then some just rushing from one corner of their lives to another. The tables around us were all filled with people, and for some reason that I’ve never been able to define, I like when everyone seems bunched together, almost elbow to elbow with strangers. “Are you really not displeased I came then?” he asked again. I smiled and shook my head. I told him I was still not recovered from the surprise.

“Good surprise, then?”

“Very good surprise.”

“If I didn’t find you at the conservatory,” he said, “I was going to try every luxury hotel with a piano bar. Very simple.”

“It would have taken you a long time.”

“I gave myself 40 days and 40 nights, and then I would have tried the conservatory. Instead I tried the conservatory first.”

“But weren’t we planning on meeting this coming Sunday?”

“I wasn’t too sure.”

That I didn’t object or say anything to gainsay his assumption must have confirmed his suspicion. Indeed, our silence regarding next Sunday’s concert made us smile uneasily. “I have wonderful memories of last Sunday,” I ended up saying. “So do I,” he replied.

“Who was the lovely pianist with whom you were playing?” he asked.

“She’s a very talented third-year student from Thailand, very, very gifted.”

“The way you looked at each other while playing clearly suggests there is more than just teacher-pupil affinity between you.”

“Yes, she came all the way here to study with me.” I could tell where he was leading and shook my head with mock reproof at the insinuation.

“And may I ask what you’re doing later?”

Bold, I thought.

“You mean tonight? Nothing.”

“Doesn’t someone like you have a friend, a partner, someone special?”

“Someone like me?” Were we really going to repeat last Sunday’s conversation?

“I meant young, sparkling, clearly fascinating, to say nothing of very handsome.”

“There is no one,” I said, then looked away.

Was I really trying to cut him off? Or was I enjoying this without wanting to show it?

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

I looked at him and shook my head again, but without humor this time.

“So no one, no one?” he finally asked.

“Nobody.”

“Not even the occasional…?”

“I don’t do the occasional.”

“Never?” he asked, almost baffled.

“Never.”

But I could hear my tone stiffen. He was trying to be playful, prodding, borderline flirtatious, and here I was coming off as mirthless, dour, and, worst of all, self-righteous.

“But there must have been someone special?”

“There was.”

“Why did it end.”

“We were friends, then we were lovers, then she split. But we stayed friends.”

“Was there ever a he in your life?”

“Yes.”

“How did it end?”

“He got married.”

“Ah, the marriage canard!”

“I thought so too at the time. But they’ve been together for years now. They were together before he started with me.”

At first, he didn’t say anything but he seemed to question the whole setup. “Did the two of you remain friends?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted him to ask, yet I loved being asked.

“We haven’t spoken in ages, and I don’t know that we’re friends, though I’m sure we will always be. He’s always read me extremely well, and I have a feeling that he suspects that if I never write it’s not because I don’t care but because a part of me still does and always will, just as I know he still cares, which is why he too never writes. And knowing this is good enough for me.”

“Even though he’s the one who got married?”

“Even though he’s the one who got married,” I echoed. “And besides,” I added, as though it dispelled any ambiguity, “he teaches in the U.S., and I’m here in Paris—kind of settles it, doesn’t it? Unseen but always there.”

“Doesn’t settle it at all, if you want to know. Why haven’t you gone after him, even if he is married? Why give up so easily?”

The near-critical tone in his voice was hard to miss. Why was he reproaching me? Was he not interested then?

“Besides, how long ago was it?” he asked.

I knew my answer would leave him totally stumped. “Fifteen years.”

Suddenly, he stopped asking and went silent. As I expected, he had not figured that so many years could go by and still leave me attached to someone who had become an invisible presence.

“It belongs to the past,” I said, trying to make amends.

“Nothing belongs to the past.” But then he right away asked: “You still think of him, don’t you?”

I nodded because I did not want to say yes.

“Do you miss him?”

“When I am alone—sometimes, yes. But it doesn’t intrude, doesn’t make me sad. I can go entire weeks without thinking of him. Sometimes I want to tell him things, but then I put it off, and even telling myself that I’m putting it off gives me some pleasure, though we may never speak. He taught me everything. My father said there were no taboos in bed; my lover helped me cast them off. He was my first.”

Michel shook his head with a confiding smile that reassured me. “How many after him?” he asked.

“Not many. All short-lived. Men and women.”

“Why?”

“Maybe because I never really let go or lose myself with others. After an instant of passion, I always fall back to being the autonomous me.”

He took a last sip of his coffee.

“At some point in your life you will need to call him. The moment will come. It always does. But perhaps I shouldn’t be saying all this.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know why.”

I liked what he’d just said, but it left us both silent.

“The autonomous you, then,” he finally said, obviously eliding what had just transpired between us that very second. “Difficult, aren’t you?”

“My father used to say so as well, because I could never decide on anything, what to do in life, where to live, what to study, whom to love. Stick to music he said. Sooner or later, the rest would come. He started his career at the age of 32—so I still have some time, though not much, if I’m to time myself to his clock. We’ve been exceptionally close, ever since I was a baby. He was a philologist and writing his dissertation at home while my mother was a therapist in a hospital, so he was the one in charge of diapers and all the rest. We had help but I was always with him. He’s the one who taught me to love music—ironically, the very same piece I was teaching when you walked in this afternoon. When I teach it I still hear his voice.”

“My father too taught me music. I was just a bad student.”

I liked this sudden convergence of coincidences though I was reluctant to make too much of it either. He kept staring at me without saying anything. But then he said something that caught me off guard once again: “You are so handsome.” It had come totally unprompted, so that rather than react to his words, I found myself trying to change the subject, except that in doing so I heard myself mutter something more unprompted yet. “You make me nervous.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t really know what you’re after, or where you’d want me to stop and not go further.”

“Should be very clear by now. If anything I’m the one who should be nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m probably just a whim for you, or maybe a few rungs higher than an occasional.”

I scoffed at this.

“And by the way”—I hesitated before saying it but felt impelled to say it—“I’m not very good at beginnings.”

He chuckled. “Was this thrown in for my benefit?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, but to come back to what I was saying: You are unbelievably handsome. And the problem is either that you know it and are aware of its power over others or that you need to pretend not to—which makes you not just difficult to decipher but, for someone like me, dangerous.”

All I did was nod listlessly. I didn’t want him to feel that what he’d just told me was misplaced. So I stared at him, smiled, and in another setting would have touched his eyelids before kissing them both.

As it got darker, the lights of our café and of the adjoining one were lit. They cast a luminous, unsteady glow on his features, and for the first time, I was aware of his lips, his forehead, and his eyes. He’s the handsome one, I thought. I should have said so, and the moment was ripe for it. But I kept quiet. I did not want to echo his words; it would have sounded like a strained and contrived attempt to establish parity between us. But I did love his eyes. And he was still staring at me.

“You remind me of my son,” he finally said.

“Do we look alike?”

“No, but you’re the same age. He too loved classical music. So I used to take him to the Sunday evening concerts, the way my father had so often done with me.”

“Do you still go together?”

“No. He lives in Sweden, mostly.”

“But the two of you are close?”

“I wish. My divorce with his mother ruined things between us, though I’m sure she did nothing to hurt our relationship. But he knew about me of course and, I suppose, never forgave me. Or he used it as an excuse to turn against me, which he’d been wanting to do since his early 20s, God knows why.”

“How did they find out?”

“She did first. One early evening she walked in and found me listening to slow jazz and nursing a drink. I was alone and just by watching me and the look on my face she knew right away that I was in love. Classic feminine intuition! She put down her handbag by the coffee table, sat next to me on the sofa, and even reached out and had a sip of my drink: ‘Is she someone I know?’ she asked after a long, long silence. I knew exactly what she meant and there was no point denying it. ‘It’s not a she,’ I replied. ‘Ah,’ she said. I still remember the last remnants of sunlight on the carpet and against the furniture, the smoky smell of my whiskey, and the cat lying next to me. Sunlight, when I see it in my living room, still reminds me of that conversation. ‘So it’s worse than I thought,’ she said. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Because against a woman I still stand a chance, but against who you are, there’s nothing I can do. I cannot change you.’ Thus ended almost 20 years of marriage. My son was bound to find out soon enough, and he did.”

“How?”

“I told him. I was under the illusion that he’d understand. He didn’t.”

“I’m sorry” was all I could say.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t regret the turn in my life. But I do regret losing him. He never calls when he is in Paris, seldom even writes, and doesn’t pick up when I call.”

He looked at his watch. Was it time to go already?

“So it’s not a mistake that I tracked you down?” he asked for the third time, perhaps because he loved hearing me say that it absolutely wasn’t, which I enjoyed telling him.

“Not a mistake.”

“And you weren’t upset with me about the other evening?” he asked.

I knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Maybe I was—a bit.”

He smiled. I could tell he was eager to leave the café, so I moved closer to him, my shoulder touching his. Which is when he put his arm around me and drew me to him, almost urging me to rest my head on his shoulder. I didn’t know whether this was meant to reassure me or simply humor a young man who had opened up and spoken some touching words to an older man. Perhaps it was the prelude to a goodbye hug. So, fearing the unavoidable leave-taking, I blurted out “I’m not doing anything tonight.”

“Yes, I know. You told me.”

But he must have sensed that I was nervous or that his tone was off.

“You are an amazing and—” He didn’t finish his sentence.

He was about to pay but I stopped his hand. Then as I held it I stared at it.

“What are you doing?” he asked almost reproachfully.

“Paying.”

“No, you were staring at my hand.”

“I wasn’t,” I protested. But I had stared at his hand.

“It’s called age,” he said. Then a moment later. “Haven’t changed your mind, have you?” He bit his lower lip but then right away released it. He was waiting for my answer.

And then because there was nothing I could think of saying to him but still felt the need to say something, anything, “Let’s not say goodbye, not just yet.” But I realized that this could easily be viewed as a request to extend our time together by a short while in the café, so I decided to opt for something bolder. “Don’t let me go home tonight, Michel,” I said. I know I blushed saying this, and was already scrambling for ways to apologize and take back my words when he came to my rescue.

“I was struggling to ask the very same thing but, once again, you beat me to it. The truth is,” he went on, “I don’t do this frequently. Actually, I haven’t done this in a very, very long time.”

“This?” I said, with a slight jeer in my voice.

“This.”

We left shortly after. We must have walked with my bike a good 20 or 30 minutes to his home. He offered to take a taxi. I said no, that I preferred to walk; besides, the bike was not the easiest thing to fold, and taxi drivers always complained. “I love your bike. I love that you have such a bike.” Then, catching himself, “I’m speaking nonsense, aren’t I?” We were walking side by side with hardly a foot distance between us and our hands kept grazing. Then I reached for his and held it for a few moments. This would break the ice, I thought. But he kept quiet. A few more paces on the cobble street, and I let go of his hand.

“I do love this,” I said.

“This?” he teased. “Meaning the-Brassai effect?” he asked.

“No, me and you. It’s what we should have done two nights ago.”

“I was aware of his lips, his forehead, and his eyes. He’s the handsome one, I thought. I should have said so, and the moment was ripe for it. But I kept quiet.”

He looked down at the sidewalk, smiling. Was I perhaps rushing things? I liked how our walk tonight was a repeat of the other evening. The crowd and the singing on the bridge, the glinting slate cobbles, the bike with its strapped bag I would eventually lock to a pole, and his passing comment about wishing to buy one just like it.

What never ceased to amaze me and cast a halo around our evening was that ever since we’d met, we’d been thinking along the same lines, and when we feared we weren’t or felt we were wrong-footing each other, it was simply because we had learned not to trust that anyone could possibly think and behave the way we did, which is why I was so diffident with him and mistrusted every impulse in me and couldn’t be happier when I saw how easily we’d shed some of our screens. How wonderful to have finally said exactly what was on my mind ever since last Sunday: Don’t let me go home tonight. How wonderful that he’d seen through my blushing on Sunday night and made me want to admit I’d blushed, only then to concede that he himself had blushed as well. Could two people who’d basically spent less than four hours together still have so few secrets from each other? I wondered what was the guilty secret I held in my vault of craven falsehoods.

“I lied about the occasionals,” I said.

“I figured as much,” he replied, almost discounting the struggle behind my avowal.

When we finally stepped into one of those tight, small Parisian elevators with no space between us, “Now will you hold me?” I asked. He shut the slim elevator doors and pressed the button to his floor. I heard the loud clank of the engine and the strain as the elevator began its ascent, when suddenly he didn’t just hold me but cupped my face in both his hands and kissed me deep on the mouth. I shut my eyes and kissed him back. I’d been waiting for this for such a long time. All I remember hearing was the sound of the very old elevator grinding and staggering its way up to his floor as I kept hoping the sound would never end and the elevator never stop.

#Call me by your name #Find me #Andre Aciman #Elio Perlman #timothee chalamet #Armie Hammer #Book

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winterverses · 6 years ago

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Walking Wounded - Chapter Sixty-Eight

In the morning, Anne had done exactly as she’d said-- woken up early, made a breakfast Jim and Ella could eat quickly or take along with them, set out their clothes, and called an aircar. And then she’d woken them both, helped them get ready, fussed over their hair and clothes while they snatched bites of food, and kissed them both goodbye. There was no awkwardness with Ella, for which she was extremely grateful. It would have been her fault if there had been. Making people like you was a skill, not chance at all. Mostly it had to do with being willing to suppress your own personality in favor of whatever the other person wanted to see, if you could figure out what that was. It could backfire easily, ending up in obsessive and possessive relationships, whether romantic or not.

In Ella’s case, it had been easy to see what she wanted. She was lonely, as Anne had told Jim, and on top of that she wanted someone who wouldn’t let themselves be pushed around, but who could also be affectionate. Someone who didn’t need Ella to be an authority figure, someone who would treat her with a little more delicacy and care than she was used to. Anne had barely even registered those desires consciously before she’d been letting them guide her. It was habit, not a good one, but a useful one, and one that was nearly compulsive. Hell, it had kept her alive and sane more often than any other skill she had. Jim was one of the very few people she knew that hadn’t been subjected to that habit, simply because she hadn’t been able to keep herself under control enough to make a concerted effort to go through her normal routine with him. That was one of the reasons it was so surprising that he’d wanted to stick around… and probably one of the reasons things were so good between them. She hadn’t needed to pretend anything to gain his approval and respect. She hadn’t been in any shape to do so. And by the time she had been able to keep herself together enough that she could have held up an act, she hadn’t wanted to, not even to protect herself. She was safe with him.

The only other two she could be certain she hadn’t swayed into favoring her were Claudia and Spock. And once Anne woke up from the nap she’d taken after Jim left, she’d resolved to see them both. Leaving messages for Nyota and Spock, she’d almost called Claudia to see if she had a spare hour or two to see her that day.

Almost.

Some impish impulse led her out the door instead, over to Claudia’s apartment. She had a vague idea that Claudia might be at the trials, but if so, she could always go and do something else. Visit her Russian friend’s restaurant, maybe, or go to one of the unofficial markets that sprang up in closed restaurants and warehouse buildings. As she rang Claudia’s doorbell, she considered contacting Jim to see if he had lunch free.

The door opened, and Anne’s eyes widened. “I knew it,” she said immediately, then brushed past a startled, disheveled Dr. McCoy and into Claudia’s apartment. “I told you you needed to cover your tracks better,” Anne called, walking into the kitchen to get herself some coffee.

Irritated splutters followed her down the hall. “You’ve got some nerve,” McCoy said. “What the hell gives you the--”

“Don’t be tiresome, Doctor. I needed to see my psychiatrist. Had I called first, she would have kicked you out, and that’s totally unnecessary, as I already knew what was going on.” Anne set the box she was carrying down on the counter and stopped at the synthesizer, punching in three coffees, cream and sugar on the side. “Now, I do want to talk to Claudia, and I don’t mind if you choose to sit in on it. But please be civil. I haven’t told Jim, and I’m not going to unless it comes time to get back on the ship and neither of you have done so.”

Claudia came into the room, obviously having just thrown on a nightgown, her dissatisfaction written clearly on her beautiful heart-shaped face. “This is really intrusive and not at all welcome, Anne.”

Anne paused, then continued to bring the coffee to the table. “You weren’t going to admit it if I didn’t catch you. Better we stop pretending, don’t you think?” She sat down, holding up a mug for Dr. McCoy, who took it ungraciously and sat down beside her. “Anyway, I have some things to discuss with you. First of all, I need to know which nights you’re free leading up to the end of the trials.”

“I really prefer not to see people in the evenings,” Claudia said, sitting down at the table.

“No, no. I’m trying to plan a party, and Jim’s been too busy--”

“If you got us out of bed to talk about a party, I’m going to toss you out right on your pointy little head,” McCoy growled from behind his mug.

“Doctor, please. If that was the only thing I needed to discuss, I would have just called you. But I do want to get it out of the way. Don’t answer me now, send me a message and I’ll choose a date that suits as many people as I can. It’ll be at our place, of course, and we’ll provide the food and drinks. All you have to do is show up and enjoy yourself.”

“Fat chance of that,” McCoy muttered.

“Please come,” Anne said, looking over at him and trying not to seem too much like she was begging. “I know we're not exactly friends, but Jim liked the idea and I want to do something he doesn’t normally have a chance to do. When has he ever been able to invite his friends into his home? Not the ship, where he always has to be the Captain, but his own home.”

McCoy’s glare softened, and he took a swift gulp from his mug. “I’ll think about it.”

Anne looked over at Claudia, who sighed heavily. “We’ll come. But you’d better keep your mouth shut about Leonard and I. This is not going to be a factor in ship politics-- it’s over the moment we’re back on duty.”

Anne sat back in her chair, looking thoughtfully at the two of them. “That will be hard to maintain, but I’ll trust you not to let it interfere even if it does continue.”

“It’s none of your damn business anyway,” McCoy grumbled. “You’ll be gone by then.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens,” Anne protested.

“Which reminds me, seeing as you’re so chipper, I do have something to say to you,” McCoy said. He didn’t seem to take any pleasure in the idea. Anne fell silent, waiting. “When you leave, you’d better be gone. Make it clean. The longer you keep contacting him, the longer he’ll be thinking of you, and the longer it’ll take for him to get his mind back on his real life.” McCoy looked evenly at her, his green eyes holding hers.

Anne was frozen for a moment. She had been actively avoiding thinking about that. Flustered, she sipped her coffee and collected her thoughts. “You’re right, of course. I’ll make it as quick and clean as I can.”

“Good.” McCoy searched her face once again, his gaze snagging on her jawline. “And that jaw needs fixing. I can get you in surgery--”

“Leave it. It’s fine the way it is.” If Anne’s voice was a little sharper than she intended, she felt she could be forgiven for that. Still, she made the attempt to soften it. “It’s all right, Doctor. It’s just cosmetic, hardly noticeable. And… thank you. I didn’t realize how much you were trying to help at the time, but I do now.”

“Well that’s something, at least,” he said. “All right, now what else did you need to bring up? The quicker you finish up, the quicker I can go back to bed.”

Anne thought briefly, trying to turn her mind away from the thought of leaving Jim. That wouldn’t help anything right now. “I want your perspectives, both of you, if you don’t mind. Commodore Paris has advised us to give an interview. Damage control. The higher-ups have been privately questioning Jim's judgment, and Loche’s women have done a number on us, apparently. I wouldn’t know, I don’t read anything about this if I can help it.”

Claudia nodded. “It’s true. It’s kind of hard to tar and feather the rest of the crew for breaking up a smuggling ring, but you and Captain Kirk left yourselves open to it.”

“Idiots,” McCoy said, and for once he didn’t seem to be talking about her. “You’d think they’d have more than one brain cell to rub together among the whole lot of them, but no. They’re happy to report whatever so long as it looks like it comes from a legitimate source.” He swirled his coffee around in his mug, thinking. “Well, you can’t exactly get away from the rumors. They’ve done too good a job on you, and you two have been seen together too often to claim you only have a professional relationship. Especially that motorcycle stunt. I’d blame you for that, but I know that was all him.”

“Well, it did keep me from having to fight through the crowd,” Anne said, shrugging.

Swirling her coffee, Claudia said thoughtfully, “If this wasn’t something that would follow you around after it’s all over, I’d say play it up. They’d latch onto a whirlwind romance narrative in a second, and it would make anyone casting aspersions look malicious. But that will get awkward when the Enterprise leaves and you’re not on it.” Claudia looked over at McCoy. “We didn’t handle it very well when your first wife found us out. All those rumors she started…”

“I should have told Simone to take a hike,” McCoy said. “Her and everyone else that said anything about you. It would have been the right thing to do, even just as a friend.” He gave Claudia a lopsided, regretful grin.

“It’s all right. We were just kids.” Claudia shook her head, her grin just as bittersweet. Anne decided to say nothing; the only thing she’d known about them was that they had a ‘history’, according to Jim. She didn’t want them to feel they had to keep quiet about it. “But that might have shut some people up. And Simone wouldn’t have been able to paint me in such a terrible light if anyone had known half the shit she put you through. It would have made a bigger fuss for a little while, but it definitely would have put some of her bullshit to rest.”

Though Anne’s curiosity was piqued, she couldn’t think of a way to ask McCoy what had happened without looking like she was prying. They weren’t on good enough terms for that. “I do understand if you’d rather not talk about it in front of me. It sounds like it must have been very personal.”

“Breakups always are,” McCoy mused, swirling his coffee in his mug.

“This isn’t about our ancient history, though,” Claudia said. “Media isn’t my strong point, but… you’re the author. How do you sell the story you want?”

Anne considered this for a few moments, tapping a fingernail on the tabletop. “Detail. Verisimilitude of action. Emotional logic.” She smiled a brief, humorless smile. “But this is different. At the heart of it, I’m not asking them to believe my story is true, I’m asking them to sympathize with me.”

“So your choice of venue for this discussion has to reflect that. So does the content of your interview.” Claudia paused. “Why not invite whoever you choose into your home? Make it a relaxed, informal conversation, not a press release or a media event. Make it small, exclusive, and be clear about why you’ve stayed silent, and why you’re not interested in giving more statements. The court case will help with that. Until the trials are over, there are things you can’t talk about.”

“I need to find out the legal limit of what I can talk about,” Anne said.

McCoy had the answer for her. “Anything that’s considered hearsay is off-limits, which means anything that no reliable witnesses were present for is something you can’t talk about. But Starfleet officers are blanketly assumed to be reliable witnesses unless there’s reason to believe that their account is compromised or biased. Which means if Uhura or Scotty or I were present, you’re fine, but since Jim’s in a relationship with you, anything that only you and he witnessed is off-limits until its reliability is determined in its respective court case.”

“Why am I not surprised that you know this?” Anne asked, eyeing him skeptically.

“Because I hang around with Jim,” McCoy said, smirking. “After a while you get used to keeping the legal liabilities in mind.”

Claudia was shaking her head. “Why did I let you convince me to take this post? Well, it’ll be interesting, at least.”

McCoy scoffed. “You were bored to death. You’ll thank me once the five year mission is over.”

Claudia’s eyes lingered on Anne a moment too long. “We’ll see,” she said.

Anne didn’t need a flashing sign. Claudia didn’t want her mentioning the offer to give up her post. It was just as good a time as any to move on to her next topic. “I’ll discuss this with Jim and we’ll work something out. Thank you both, very much. Your insight is always appreciated. Now… do you have time for me, Claudia? There are some things I need your help with. I understand if you’d rather I come back later-- I couldn’t wait on asking about the interview, but this can wait if necessary.”

Claudia’s eyes rested on McCoy for a long moment before she looked back to Anne. “I’m tempted to tell you to wait just because you barged in here like that. You haven’t even apologized.”

To Anne’s surprise, McCoy laughed. “Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you? Spend all this time trying to help her be more assertive and feel more confident, and the moment she does it in a way that you don’t like--”

“Leonard, that’s not at all what I meant and you know it,” Claudia said.

“Either way, you made this bed. Don’t complain if the sheets don’t hang right.” McCoy pushed his chair back from the table, picking up his mug.

Rolling her eyes, Claudia made a moue of exasperation. “Fine. But next time you’re calling first, Anne. I don’t appreciate this.”

“Thank you, Doctor Hayes,” Anne said, inclining her head in something like a bow. As McCoy walked away, she added, “Wait a moment. I did bring something for you. Both of you.”

McCoy paused in the doorway, watching curiously as Anne got up and took the box from the counter. Flipping it open, she set it down on the table. “There should be enough to last you a while. Jim was too busy to demolish them last night. I know you’re both from the southern states so I thought you might appreciate these.”

Eyes brightening when he saw the contents, McCoy reached in and grabbed a handful of pralines. “Been a while,” he said. “I won’t hold it against you if they’re not as good as the real thing.” Taking a big bite out of one, he thought for a moment, then nodded, appearing satisfied, and left the room.

Shaking her head, Claudia selected a praline and bit off a small piece. “Apology accepted,” she said wryly. “Now, what’s all this about?”

Sitting back down, Anne took one of the pralines and crumbled a bit into her coffee. “Hmm. Well. How do you tell whether something is a dependency, a habit, or just part of the way you relate to the world?” She'd never questioned that ingrained desire to influence people toward her ends before. Jim's presence had thrown it into sharp relief, however, and Anne found herself wondering just how deep it ran.

Claudia looked suspicious. Anne couldn’t blame her. “That’s awfully abstract. Why don’t you tell me why this is bothering you?”

Anne grimaced. “Well, it wasn’t a problem until last night…”

Between phone explosions, drama explosions, projects dying and coming back to life, and various other time commitments, I’ve not even been able to think of posting until now! Updates should resume as normal though.

#James T. Kirk/OC #Jim Kirk/OC #Star Trek #Star Trek Fanfiction #dark romance #ST:WW #Star Trek: Walking Wounded

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fatrainbowmermaidunicorn · 7 years ago

Text

Love Story (Seokjin x You ONESHOT)

A/N: My first ever Jin fic! Taylor’s song is a;ways fun to based on since it always have some sort of a story to it. hehe.I wrote this story based on a modern setting, but I still hope you will enjoy it <3

MASTERLIST

We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes and the flashback starts I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air

Y/N closes her eyes as she inhales the breeze that sweeps her hair as she stands on the balcony of her home. A smile grazed her lips as she remembered that she would never thought she would feel this happy, this contented after feeling lonely and empty her whole life.

And its all thanks to this one man.

She looked over her shoulders to see the figure of the man she loves so much, her heart could burst just from thinking about him, currently soundly asleep on the bed and her mind takes her back to when everything begin.

To when their love story begins.

See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns See you make your way through the crowd

Y/N was just a bored teenage heiress back then, on the borderline of turning into an adult, something she absolutely cant wait to be. Dont get her wrong. Her life is perfect. Well, as perfect as the world of a lonely heiress could be. She was the sole heiress of her family's empire, she obviously have the wealth, blessed with amazingly good looks, brains and everything she can ever asks for. She lives a live of a princess, but as all princess usually are, they are overprotected. Her every move is always being watched, not just by her parents, but by everybody. She cant do no wrong. She cant just simply befriend anybody she likes, her parents must approved of their standard first; are they a daughter or son of another empire? Who are their parents? What kind of person are they? Which resulted with Y/N only having two close friends who are also in the same position as her, an heiress. But the difference between them and her, they have older siblings to take off the pressure of becoming the next heir in line, giving them the freedom to do whatever they want. Also just like a princess, Y/N surely as hell is not allowed to fall in love with just simply anybody. Her parents will freaked out if she ended up with some burnout who is not in line for his own empire. So Y/N decided there's no point of finding love when she will end up marrying one of the snobbish heir in an arranged marriage anyway.

As usual, Y/N is currently sitting at yet another front row of a packed stadium of some artist that she dont even know, which she is once again dragged to attend by her friends. Being a well known socialite, its something normal for them to attaend these kinds of events on almost every night as part of the VVIP guests, the organizers hoping to create some sort of a good connection with these empires. But partying almost every night has taken its toll and Y/N sat in her seat, playing with her phone, bored, while waiting for the show to finally start. Her friends chattering away, excited for the concert by her side, already used to her brooding ways. Y/N finally locked her phone and tossed it in her bag when the lights finally went off and the crowd of screaming girls starts to go wild, indicating the show is finally starting.

Y/N adjusted herself in her seat and try to enjoy the next two hours of the concert, might as well when she's already here. She expected to see the usual performance, band members dancing and singing to song that she cant relate at all, but she was taken by surprised to see instead seven most handsome man she has ever laid her eyes on, with voices and dance moves that she has never seen before.

But one of the members caught her eyes the most and she cant help but to stare at that particular man as he dances and sings.

He's so handsome.

To her surprised, the man that she has been oogling suddenly look her way and out of the thousand girls in the crowd, he gave a smile just for her and winked. Y/N placed her hand over her chest, trying to calm down her racing heart. The rest of the concert went by quickly, with Y/N solely focusing on him and him giving her the occasional glance and smile as he tries to concentrate in his performance for the rest of the concert.

Y/N is more than ready to go home and sleep once the concert ended, wanting nothing more than to forget the attraction she felt. What's the point anyway. He's an idol. Someone her parents would never approved, and idols are just Romeos and players anyway, and she got no time for that. But of course things isnt going her way when her friends dragged her to the after party.

"Where are we going? You promised I only have to attend the concert! Can I just please go home?" She grumbled as she's being dragged left and right to a huge club nearby. Her friends rolled their eyes to her protests.

"I swear Y/N. If I dont know you since birth, I would have thought that you are some 80 year old grandma and not some 19 year old teenager! Chill out and loosen up a little. We are going to the after party!" Her friend excitedly tells her. "Just for a while okay?"

"Urghh, fine! See, this is proof of how much I love you! You can never say otherwise!"

"I know babe. Thats why I love you too," Yumi kisses her cheek and continue to dragged her along.

And say hello Little did I know That you were Romeo

"Hello, I'm Seokjin, but you can call me Jin," the man that she has been staring at for the last two hours during the concert is now standing right in front of her, flashing her his eye blinding smile, introducing himself. Y/N stared at him as she silently continue to drink her juice through her straw.

God, he's even more handsome up close.

"Hi Jin," Y/N replied before turning around to walk away from him but he grabbed her arms. Y/N was surprised by his actions and looked down at where he had gripped her arms, making Jin immediately let go of her.

"Uh.. sorry. I didnt mean to be rude, but I didnt catch your name?" Y/N can hear the nervousness in the once confident man.

"That's because I didnt tell you,"

"Well, can you tell me then?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I like you," Jin's blunt answer surprised her. Never have she met anyone this direct about his feelings towards her before.

"How can you? You dont even know me, dont you?" She questioned, eyebrows raised.

"That's why I would like to," Jin smile. "I mean, I can see that you atleast like my performance. So even if you ended up not liking me personally, you will atleast like me as a performer," he reasoned.

"How are you so sure that I'm looking at you? I might be looking at.... that guy," Y/N points to another one of his band members who is sitting quietly at the corner of the club. Jin laughs. The sound of his laughs is so cheerful it makes Y/N smile.

"Him? Jungkook? Oh come on. He's like a little fetus! Its not possible for you to look at him when you have a real man right here!" He grins.

"Havent you considered that maybe its you that are too old? Besides, he's sexy when he dance that hip thrust cheography you guys had," Y/N answered back. Jin almost got offended and actually believes she might be attracted in Jungkook instead but smile when he notice the teasing smile and the toned of her voice.

"Nahh. My age is just right. And plus, I'm worldwide handsome. There is no way you are looking at someone else other than me," he winked, making Y/N laughs out loud. "So what do you say? Can I get that name and the chance to get to know you better?"

Y/N contemplated for a while. Should she? She have to admit, she is very very attracted to this man. His sense of humour, his confidence, the fact that he likes her before even knowing about her family background, the fact he wanted to get to know her better instead of just wanting to get in her pants. Should she?

Y/N knows its no used. Their relationship is never going to go anywhere. But she really really wants to get to know this Seokjin too. And with a huge smile she finally answers,

"Yeah, sure. I would love that. I'm Y/N. Its nice to meet you Seokjin,"

You were throwing pebbles And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

Y/N's relationship with Seokjin grew too fast too soon, and the moment they exchanged their numbers that night, their feelings for each other started to grow too. Before long, Jin is already declaring his love for her, taking Y/N by surprised, but of course, is recriprocated. Finally knowing who Y/N really is and understanding where her parents stand about their relationship, the two of them tried their best to keep their relationship a secret. They even went as far as Jin throwing pebbles up to Y/N's windows during some nights, sneaking in to spend the night talking with her or to help her jumped out so they can run the town for the night.

Y/N felt like a princess. Hidden in a protected tower with her prince coming every night to actually save her, to take her to see the world she was so hidden from.

But how can a princess who has eyes watching her every move is able to keep a secret this big for long?

Y/N came back from class one day only to be greeted with her parents waiting for her in the great hall, serious looks on her face. But what is more surprising is the man sitting opposite of them from the couch is none other than Kim Seokjin, who gave her a small smile once he saw her enters.

"Jin? What are you doing here?" She asks nervously and turned to her parents once she received no answer. "Mom? Dad?"

"Well, atleast you dont play dumb and pretend that you dont know him," her father breaks the tension. Y/N walks over to Jin and held his hand, making both her parents looks at her with a warning.

"Why should I? You probably already know anyway. I love him," she takes a stand, openly defying her parents.

"Y/N, this is unacceptable! How can you date someone like... him behind our backs!" Her father raised his voice, not believing his daughter bold answer. When did she learn how to defy them?

"What do you mean Dad? What do you mean by someone like him?" Y/N growled. How dare her father insulted the only man that actually cares for her. Oh, she knows exactly what her father meant but the way he said it just makes her wants to riled him up even more.

"Y/N... its okay," Jin tried to calm her down by her side.

"No its not Jin. How can he talk about you like that? You are the only man in my lonely life that truly cares about me. That really sees me for me, not as some prize," Y/N insisted as she held Jin's hand tighter, turning to face him with anger in her eyes.

"That's enough Y/N," her mother finally speaks up. Her mother never say much during times like this, but when she did, Y/N knows she meant it. "And you," her father turned to face Jin with rage in my eyes. "I think I have told you multiple times to stay away from my daughter! Why are you still here?"

Her father's statement shocked Y/N to to the core. Multiple times? Have they met each other before? How long exactly has her father known about them?

"Wait..m..multiple times?" Y/N shifed her gaze back and forth from her father to Jin. Her father only looks back with fire in his eyes as Jin lowered his eyes, not wanting to catch Y/N's. "Jin?"

"Your.. your father has send his men a few times to see me before Y/N. To ask me to stop seeing you. He offered to pay me off at first, but I didnt accept it. I love you too much for that," Jin explained quietly. Y/N's mouth opened in shocked. She would never imagined her father would stooped that low just to ensure that she is married off to some wealthy family. Doesnt he care about her happiness at all? Cant he see how happy Jin is making her?

"Dad, how could you?!" Tears starts to pricked her eyes as she tried to blink them back, but to no avail. Her heart hurts too much to think that her own father would do this. Her father steps closer to her and kneeled down to her level.

"Y/N, please trust me. I did what I have to do to ensure you get what's best for you sweetheart," he glanced at Jin. "And he is not it. You might think that you love him now but it will all pass. Celebrities like him will only play you honey. They will leave you the moment something better came around," he continued as he glared towards Jin who has now stood up, gritting his teeth.

"No, we love each other Dad," Y/N shakes her head.

"I dont mean to be rude Sir, but I think you underestimate the love I felt for your daughter," Jin finally take a stand. How can he just stand by when her father just accused him of not loving Y/N as much as he did? To that Y/N's mother stood up and walked towards them with a purpose, rolling her eyes.

"Listen here young man. I know boys like you. You are well known and good looking, and dating Y/N is only a challenge for you. To date the princess that nobody can get. Isnt that right? You will get bored of her once you get your fill!"

"Excuse me Ma'am, but you dont know me!" Jin grabbef Y/N's hand and held it tight, much to her parent's displeasure. "I'm not like that. I truly love your daughter," he turns to Y/N. "Baby, please believe me. I love you. I love eveything about you and nothing is going to change that. Not even this," Jin gave her a small smile. Y/N tighten her the grip of her hand that is holding his and smile back. Looking at Jin now, she believes that they will get through everything.

Y/N's mother scoffed at the affection displayed in front of her. "Ah stupid young love. So refreshing," she mocked. "Lets see if you are still going to stand by her side if it will ruined your beloved... what is it called again? Bangtan?"

"What?" Jin's head turned so fast the moment he heard his group's name. They can do anything to him and he is willing to take it, but whay is he supposed to do if they are involving the rest of the boys? Bangtan means everything to him. They are his family. They had gone so much together. He would never let his brothers get hurt because of him.

"Im giving you a chance now Seokjin. Leave Y/N and I will make sure your Bangtan Boys will continue to succeed. But... if you still choose to stay with your foolish feelings, then I have no choice but to make some calls and by day break tomorrow, everything you and your little friends has worked for all these years will be gone. Bangtan will no longer be accepted in industry nor will any of you will be able to start anew. I'll make sure of it," the elder woman smile in flourish, flashing such an evil smile.

"Mother, please no!" Y/N is full on crying now. She knows what her family is capable of doing. Even with a single flick, a life can be ruined. And she also know how much Bangtan means to Jin. He talks about them often, how he loves each and everyvone of them like his own little brother. Tbere is no way they are going to win this war.

Her mother ignored her daughter's plea, keeping her ice cold stare on Jin. "Make a decision Seokjin. And you better make a wise one," she smirked. Seokjin closes his eyes and inhale. He has never encountered someone so evil before. How can he choose from the two most important thing in his life? He turned to Y/N and see her crying uncontrollably, and in that moment he realizes that Y/N knows him well enough to already know what's he's decision going to be. A decision that will ultimately breaks her heart.

"Y/N..."

"No!" She ran out from the great hall and Jin followed after her instantly, only to found her sitting and crying on the large staircase in the middle of the mansion.

And I was crying on the staircase Begging you, please, don't go And I said, "Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all that's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

Looking at the love of his life sobbing her heart out, face wet with tears and shoulders shaking breaks Jin's heart into pieces, but he know he have to do what needs to be done. He cant be selfish. He wont let his brothers suffer just because he wants to keep Y/N in his life, and her parents left her with no other choice. Why does with all the woman in the world, he has to fall in love with someone he cant have?

Jin sat down beside her on the staircase, taking her hand.

"Y/N..."

"Please dont leave me Jin..." Y/N begged through her tears, her voice sounded so broken it tore into Jin's heart, making his own eyes start to water.

"Y/N... I'm sorry. Im really really sorry," he sniffled. "But I have to,"

"Please Jin. I cant live without you. I just cant," Y/N starts to choke in her tears that just seems to increased.

"Baby... I'm so so sorry. But I cant do that to them,"

"How about me? How am I supposed to live without you? Why are you leaving me here? Caged in this prison?" She wailed, her heart breaking even further by the second.

"I'm.. I'm sorry baby,"

"Take me with you," her eyes wide as she makes the request, hands holding each other tight, heart filled with hope.

"Wh..what?"

"Take me with you Jin. I will follow you. Take me away from here. Take me away so we can be alone, happy together. Please Jin," she plead. Jin almost give in to her request. Spending a lifetime with her without her parents interference sounds heavenly to him. But he cant be selfish. If he do that now, he will just be ruining her life. She needs her parents' support one way or another. She might not see it now but Jin knows she will regret it in the future if he tske her away from them. He needs to stay strong. He needs to be the rock in their fragile relationship.

"Baby, you know you cant. I cant,"

"Jin..." Jin cupped her face, wet eyes staring into another.

"I'll come back for you one day Y/N. Wait for me. I swear to you that I will come back for you. You are my princess and we will have our fairytale ending Y/N. I love you so much," he leaned in and gave her one last long kiss before standing up and exited the mansion, leaving Y/N as a crying mess alone on the staircase.

So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew So close your eyes, escape this town for a little while

True to his word, Jin didnt contact Y/N again after that day, making her parents very satisfied and somewhat surprised that the young man actually kept his promise. Looks like using Bangtan really does the trick. Although heartbroken, Y/N held on to Jin's last words to her, that he will come back. She didnt know if it means a year or a thousand years from now, but for Jin, she's willing to wait forever.

Her parents, on the other hands, takes Jin's silenced as a sign that they were right. As days passes by, they keep on reminding Y/N that Jin's love for her is not real, and it can simply be overshadowed by his love for his career. But Y/N knew better. She believes in Jin. She believes in the love that shone from his eyes when he look at her.

On one of the days that she misses him too much, Yumi, a sneaky little friend that she is, cooked up a plan to sneaked the two of them out to a see Jin as Bangtan is having a small concert, a collaboration with other artists on one cold night.

"You can just say you went for the other band if your parents find out," Yumi reasoned as she coaxed Y/N to go through with her plans. Its not that Y/N didnt want to see Jin. She almost died from missing him so much, she really wants to see him again, but she is afraid of the consequences of her actions would bring to Jin and his members.

"First of all, its not if Yumi. They will find out. Second," Y/N held out a second finger. "Do you think they are stupid? Of course they would know I went there to see Jin!"

"Yeah. But you parents says you cant date him. They didnt say you cant go to their concert! Afterall, your parents loves it when you are out socialising with other chaebols!" Y/N ponders on Yumi's reasoning. She got a point. Her parents might be the definition of evil, but they react with facts and common sense. As long as she went to the concert as a fan and not as a date, her parents cant stop her from going. Afterall, Yumi is right. They love it when she mingles with other heirs.

"Okay, I'm in," Y/N declared as Yumi clapped her hands in glee.

/////

"Y/N? Wh.. what are you doing here?" Jin was startled when he entered the waiting room when the staff told him someone is waiting for him there after the show to see the face he missed the most sitting there, patiently waiting for him. She smile at him and Jin almost stopped breathing at her beauty.

"I wanted to see you," she stood up and without warning engulfed Jin in a tight embraced and captured his lips with her. After he recovered his initial shock, he immediately closes his eyes and kisses her back, pouring all the longing he felt all this while for her. After they broke the kiss, Y/N grinned at him.

"I miss you," she whispered.

"I miss you more. You have no idea baby," Jin whispered back as he continue to kiss all over face and her neck, taking in her scent. Y/N took his hand and lead him outside, to a more dark and hidden garden.

"Come with me. But we have to be quiet. I dont know who's watching me. And we are dead if they find us," despite the warning, Y/N still flashed him a smile so beautiful, making his heart soared like crazy.

God, he miss her. He miss her so much.

They finally lay down on the green grass, staring at the stars, hands never leaving each other.

"How much time do we have?" Jin softly asked. He wished they have forever. Just to stay like this. Just to enjoy the sound of each other's breathing.

"Not much..." Y/N replied sadly. "But close your eyes Jinnie. Lets just pretend that its just you and me here. Lets pretend that we are not here but in our own world," Jin can hear the smile in her voice as he smile back. Maybe he will. Just this once, he will let himself imagined that they are living in a world where they can be together. Just this once, he will escape this cruel world.

Romeo save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel This love is difficult, but it's real Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

After just enjoying each other's presence in a comfortable silence, Y/N speaks up.

"You know... they are trying to convinced me that you really left me. That you never really loved me at all," she said quietly. Jin immediately raised himself on his elbows and turned to looked at Y/N.

"Do you believe them?"

Y/N took a moment to reply, making Jin anxious. Did he made a mistake? Did he make Y/N not trust him anymore?

"I almost did... but then I remembered our time together. And I know you cant possibly fake the love I felt from you," she turned her head towards him and smile. Jin exhale in relief.

"I love you Y/N. There was not a second goes by when I'm not with you that I didnt think about how to come back to you," he traced the outline of her beautiful face and run his thumb on her lips. "I know its difficult right now. I know you cant truly see how much you mean to me, but trust me, what I felt for you is real. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you that night and my feelings never ceased. You are the greatest thing that could ever happen to me Y/N," Y/N didnt say anything to Jin's heartfelt confession, instead she leaned in and pulled him for a kiss. They only broke the kiss when they are finally desperate for air and Jin turned his gazed towards her eyes. "Sometimes I'm afraid that you will finally get tired of fighting for us, for me and give up. Because I know you deserve better than this. Better than me," Jin confessed in a quiet voice, a confession that Y/N didnt expect. She never knew Jin felt that way when all along she always thought she was the one who didnt deserve someone as perfect as him.

"Dont be afraid Jinnie. I will love you forever. We will make it through. We will get through this mess and live happily together one day," she smile at him, calming his anxious heart. "Till then, remember that you are my prince and I will always be your princess,"

The moment was broken when Yumi texted Y/N, telling her its finally time to leave. With heavy heart they made it back to the waiting room where Jin gave her one last long kiss.

"Wait for me Y/N. It wont be long now. I will come for you. I swear I will come for you. I love you princess," was the last words he said before they untangled their fingers within each other grasps and Y/N ran back to where Yumi is waiting.

I got tired of waiting Wondering if you were ever coming around My faith in you was fading

Jin and his members went on tour not long after that, making Y/N miss him even more. What's worse is that he never seems to call or text her at all, or even replied one of hers. Yes, maybe Jin is afraid of the consequences if her parents found out, but dont he miss her at all?

Is all his promises of love just a blatant lie?

Y/N hearts ached everytime he saw the news and it shows some interviews of Jin and his group members, laughing and making jokes. He looks happy and well, the total opposite of what Y/N is feeling. She reached for the remote and clicked the off button, no longer wanting to see the face she misses so much looking happy and completely fine without her.

Has he given up on her?

Did Jin forget about her?

Is he ever going to come back for her?

Y/N closes her eyes and her tears trickled down her face, and this time she let it flow, no longer bothering to hide how broken she's feeling. She took out her phone and with the last of her strength, she send Jin one last text.

I still love you Jin. But how about you?

Jin sighed as he read the text that he just received. He wanted nothing more than to reply to her text and tell her that he loves her more than anything. That he buried himself in his dance and music just so he can try to stop thinking about her, which of course, never works.

Jin knows Y/N's faith in him is fading, but this is the deal he has made to win his love back. Hidden from Y/N's knowledge, Jin has met up with her father one last time before he went off for tour after discussing the issue with the boys. Supportive as they are, the boys convinced Jin that they believed in their teamwork and effort and no one could bring them down if their fans still believes in them. Even if Y/N's parents decide to bring them down, they will rise again from the ashes. They are sure of it. They told him to go ahead and fight for his love. Surprised by his determination and confidence, to still fight for his daughter even after threatening him with the biggest threat they could muster, Y/N's father finally decides to give Jin one final test before he can be deem good enough for his daughter. He was not to contact Y/N for the duration of 6 months, which is the length of his tour, and if by the time he came back the two is still sure about their feelings, then Y/N's father will give his permission for Jin to finally marry his daughter if he chose to do so.

Y/N's father is convinced that their young love wont last that long. Jin will get bored and find someone else during their tour, especially when he is always surrounded by beautiful girls throwing themselves at him, and Y/N... well, he has no other choice but to make his daughter learn the hard way, that modern days Romeo are more dangerous and is out to break your heart into pieces in a blink of an eye.

Little did he know how wrong he was. How Jin is counting every single second that passes by for him to go back into Y/N's arms again.

Please wait for me baby. Just a little bit more.

"Romeo save me, I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think"

Y/N sat crossed leg on the sand as she watches the waves crashes the shore. She has finally given up. It has been six months and she didnt hear anything from Jin. She is sure that he has move on by now. She sat as her tears once again flow as the happy memories spend with Jin at this very beach during the early stage of their relationship came back to her.

There is no point remembering someone that doesnt remember you.

As she blinked back the tears, promising that this is the last time she would cry for him, she felt a someone standing behind her. Afraid, she turned around cautiously only to see Jin's broad figure sheilding her from the sun, smiling down at her, giving her his hand to help her up on her feet. Y/N blinked a few times, not sure if its really him or is she finally hallucinating from missing him too much as she reached up to him.

"Are... are you really here?" Jin laughs at her adorable question.

"Yes Y/N. Its me. Im back. Im really here," he said as he grabbed her hands and placed it on his broad chest, making Y/N feel his thumping heart. Y/N couldnt help but let her tears fall once again when she saw the face she love and miss so much. Too much.

"Where have you been?" She sobbed and hit his chest. "Why do you leave me with not even a single word?"

Jin grabbed her tiny hands to stopped her from hitting him.

"Im sorry baby,"

"I dont forgive you!" She yelled between her sobs, making Jin smile at how adorable she is. "I have been feeling so alone. Where have you been," she sobbed again, more like a statement rather than a question. "I keep waiting for you to reply. To say something, anything to show that you still want me, still love me. But you didnt say anything!" Y/N is now full on sobbing and Jin pulled her in his embraced. One day he's going to explain to her why he did what he did, but not today. Today, he has something more important to do.

"Is it just me? Am I only imagining your love for me? Is it in my head? Did you not love me anymore?" Y/N continued to wailed when Jin didnt say anything, tiny hands keeps hitting his chest again.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

Without saying a word, Jin knelt down on the sandy beach, holding Y/N's hand.

"Baby, princess, Y/N..." he calls out softly, making Y/N stopped her sobbing and looked at him with wide eyes. "One day I will answer all your questions. Every single one of them, but not today, not right now" he smile, making her confused.

"Today I want to tell you how you make me feel. How your beauty never ceased to amazed me. How you own my heart since the moment you catch my eye from the thousand other people in the crowd, from the way you make me laugh that makes my heart beats faster, how you always make me want to be a better person, how you always make me feel loved. Y/N, I love you so much that I dont think even the word love is enough to describe my feelings for you. I will fight for you forever. I will do anything to be yours," he finally take out a diamond ring from his pocket and presented it to her, making Y/N gasps.

"I want to love you forever, but for now, I will just start with today. Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

"Oh Jinnie," Y/N's grinned is so big it stretched across her face as tears are cascading fiercely down her face. But this time, its tears of happiness for sure.

"I had a deal with you father Y/N, and he finally approved of us," he finally explained softly. Y/N was surprised to say the least.

"You... you really did that for me?"

"I told you I would do anything for you. And I mean it baby. I love you. I love you so much, I dont think I know how to do anything else Y/N," he smile so wide at her, hands still grasping hers.

"So baby, will you just say yes already?"

Y/N laughs and sniffled her tears away.

"Yes Kim Seokjin, yes!"

'Cause we were both young when I first saw you.

Y/N smile at the memory as she felt a pair of hands hugging her waist from behind, kissing her neck.

"What is my beautiful wife thinking about?"

"I was thinking about our younger days. How we first met. And what we've been through to be this happy. Our own love story," Y/N tilted her head to give her husband a peck.

"Ah the good times," Jin grins as he kiss the top of her head.

"Of all the amazing love story out there, I still love our story the most," Jin turns her around, still keepinf his arms around her waist, to face him as he continues to give her pecks on the forehead.

"Well, why dont we continue to write our story then? I think Seokmin needs a new baby sister," he winks and laughs when Y/N's face turns red with embarassament, slapping him in the arms. "My amazing, adorable wife. I love you so much Y/N. You are really the greatest love story to me,"

Y/N looks up to her beloved husband and kiss him. "I love you too Kim Seokjin, you will always be my favorite love story,"

A/N: As ususal, if you like it keep more requests coming in guys <3

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