#symphonies & stories on Saturdays | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beomcoups · 7 months ago

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Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia. Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did.

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend.

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you. You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop.

I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night.

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.”

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.”

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.”

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.”

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition.

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?”

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to.

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off.

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier.

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head.

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing.

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them.

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic.

You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.”

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying.

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.”

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.”

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that.

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.”

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future.

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

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saythenametotheworld · 4 months ago

Text

Timeless | jww

Pairing: SEVENTEEN Wonwoo x Reader

Notes: 2.5k words. Based on a writing prompt I saw today. here's some story written on a whim! Enjoy!

The sun shone brightly up the sky, bringing a comfortable warmth to the late Saturday morning at a park by the Han River. Wonwoo sat there, a timeless observer in a constantly changing world. He leaned back on the wooden bench, closing his eyes to the gentle hum of life around him. The soft breeze, the distant laughter of children, and the conversation of people around him that were reduced to soft murmurs in his ears all melded into a soothing symphony. But his thoughts were elsewhere, drifting back through the centuries to a love long past.

Wonwoo had stopped aging a long time ago, a quirk of fate that he had no idea how he came to possess but had left him a witness to the continuous march of time. He had seen the rise and fall of civilizations and empires, cities that crumbled and rebuilt, and the countless faces of people passing in and out of his life. He remembered the grandeur and the bustling markets of ancient Rome, the silent strength of the Great Wall as it snaked through the mountains between China and Mongolia, the rise of the Goryeo Dynasty, and its eventual transition to the Joseon Period.

Exactly how old is he now? He had lost count. Over time, it just didn’t matter anymore. One of his earliest memories was standing on the shores of a vast, uncharted ocean, the salty breeze whipping through his hair. He had been living his early life on an island with his kin and had no idea there was an entire world beyond the high seas. He had watched as explorers docked on the shores of his home and heard said explorers declare that a whole wide world was out there. Civilizations, society, and people. All of these were foreign to him. Surely, he must set out to see this massive world they spoke of, and he did exactly that.

Wonwoo had set sail into the unknown, his eyes alight with dreams of discovery. That was when he realized that he was no ordinary man. He was someone who had been gifted by the heavens with time—a limitless, continuous, endless amount of time.

In the years that followed, Wonwoo lived among these men, never given the chance to find his home again. He watched as men took to the seas, charting routes that allowed Wonwoo to explore the vastness of the Earth. He had walked through the newly founded streets of New Amsterdam, marveled at the opulence of Versailles, and witnessed the fiery birth of the industrial age.

Wonwoo did everything and anything a man with unlimited time could do. He explored the world, unearthing and discovering its beauty and magnificence. He studied sciences, medicine, engineering, and even advancements in architecture and infrastructure. He dabbled with arts in its many forms. He made friends with some people who eventually passed but would be remembered as important figures in history. Sometimes he liked to think he had contributed to the progress of humanity, however little it may be.

And romance, well, despite not knowing exactly how to engage in genuine romantic pursuits, that didn’t stop him from indulging himself with people he found alluring—whoever they were, wherever they were from as long as he has taken a liking to them.

But among these myriad of memories, one stood out with aching clarity. You.

You had been his heart's desire for heaven knows how long. Wonwoo had met you in a bustling marketplace, your eyes catching his from across the crowd. There had been an instant connection, a pull that neither of you could deny. You had spent days exploring the city together, hours lost in whispered conversations and shared dreams, and nights spent with passion and warmth.

He remembered the way your hair flowed freely with the breeze, your eyes that shone in the moonlight, the warmth of your hand in his, and the way your laughter had chased away the shadows of his loneliness. But time was a thief, and it had taken you from him, leaving only memories in its wake. Such was the life of an immortal. People will come and go, friends eventually pass, and the bond between lovers withers away like flowers in October. Although he had never experienced love the way he did with you, he tried to move on with his life knowing no power on Earth will ever bring you back. Or so he had thought.

Years later, he had been wandering through the streets of Paris when he saw you again, your face unchanged, your eyes just as bright. You did not know him—not at first—but the connection was still there, and it was as undeniable as ever.

“I know you,” Wonwoo had told you at the time.

You were surprised at first, frowning at the man with whom you unknowingly held hands when he offered to help you board your carriage. You had thought it was your coachman, but it was a stranger—an oddly familiar stranger, but still a stranger.

“You do?” you had told him, maintaining a dignified composure despite being intrigued by him. What was that slight ache tugging at your heartstrings at the sight of his smiling face? “Well, I do not know you so it would be best if you refrain from approaching me without warning, sir.”

“I see. I beg your pardon,” he replied, still smiling as if he was overjoyed to be in your presence. “I am Jeon Wonwoo. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

In that life, you fell in love once more. And like the first, your time together was fleeting, and you were gone once more. This time, Wonwoo was hopeful that you would find each other again.

This became your pattern. Several years after your death, you would reincarnate, always with the same face, the same smile, the same laughter. Fate would bring you back to Wonwoo every time, even when he wasn't looking for you. In the high society of England year 1750, you had been a debutante in search of a husband and found Wonwoo. In the streets of Tokyo, in 1821, you were a painter, your art capturing the essence of the love you shared. In the serene hills of Tuscany, you had been a writer, your words weaving your shared story into the fabric of time. In the roaring twenties of New York, you had been a singer, your voice a siren call that drew him to you.

Each time you were reborn, you and Wonwoo would meet as strangers, fall in love all over again, and then, inevitably, you would leave him.

“I’ll come find you,” he told you on your deathbed, sickness has caused your young body to wither away. It had always been this way. You meet Wonwoo, share a couple years with him, maybe a whole decade if you are lucky, and then some illness or accident takes you away.

“I love you, Wonu.”

“I know. I love you more than anything in this world.”

It was a cycle of joy and heartbreak, of fleeting moments to Wonwoo that felt like lifetimes for you. But he was content. He was happy and he finally had something he wanted to keep living for.

But then, suddenly, you stopped coming back. You just… didn’t. Wonwoo waited, searched, and hoped, but you did not return. The decades stretched into a century and even as the 2000s came, still, you were nowhere to be found. He scoured the corners of the earth, looking for any sign of you, but it was as if you had vanished from the cycle of reincarnation. Wonwoo had been complacent. He was too relaxed and got so comfortable that he forgot something like this could happen.

Desperation and longing became his constant companions. His endless life was lonely and devoid of meaning until he found love in you, and now, without you, it felt empty once more.

Still, Wonwoo did not dare give up. In his search for you, he discovered a new passion: music. He found solace in melodies and rhythms, and his talent quickly blossomed. He began composing and singing, pouring his soul into every note. His music resonated with people, and he became a renowned singer, his voice known across the world. While he enjoyed his craft, his fame also served another purpose. He hoped that by becoming a public figure, his face appearing on screens and stages everywhere, you would find your way back to him.

But as the years passed, his hopes began to wane. No one who came to him even remotely resembled you, not your face, not your smile, nothing. His frustration grew with each passing day, the relentless search taking its toll on his spirit. The world lauded his music, yet he remained haunted by an unfulfilled longing, his heart aching for the one person who made his endless life worth living. The world around him has changed so much, technology advancing, cultures shifting, but his heart remained trapped in the past—the time so long ago when you first saw each other. His heart stayed broken, yearning and mourning you that he had lost.

And today, Wonwoo opened his eyes only to realize that hours had passed since he sat in front of the Han River. This was your favorite spot in your last life. You made the best memories here together, and as such, this place has become the one place Wonwoo can go to if he misses you. As the sun began to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows across the park, Wonwoo closed his eyes again, the weight of his sadness sat heavy on his heart. He did not notice the figure that had taken a seat beside him, nor the way they watched him with a gaze full of curiosity and recognition. It wasn't until the voice broke through his reverie that he was jolted back to the present.

“You're still thinking about me after all this time?”

Wonwoo's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned to look at the speaker, his breath catching in his throat. There was no mistaking that voice. Even if it was over a hundred years ago, or two hundred, or four hundred years ago when he first heard you speak, Wonwoo would never forget that voice. And sure enough, it was you, unchanged by the years, as if you had stepped out of his memories and into the present.

“My love…” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief and hope. “My love. Is that you?”

You smiled the same radiant smile that had haunted his dreams. “These days, I think it’s cooler to call your lover Babe, or Bub or something short but sweet like that.”

He reached out, hesitantly at first, then with growing certainty, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You were real, warm, and alive, and the floodgates of his emotions burst open.

You reached back to caress his face. “It’s been a while, Wonu.”

Slowly, unbeknownst to himself, Wonwoo’s tears rolled down his cheeks. With both hands, he held your cheeks, pulling you to sit next to him on the grass. “Where were you? I couldn’t find you!” he said, his voice breaking.

You rolled your eyes, trying to appear aloof even as your own tears threatened to fall. “Silly. You knew you could never find me even if you tried. It is me who must go to you. Always. It doesn’t matter if I don’t recognize you, I will always be the one to find you.”

“But it has been too long. Too much time has passed without you.”

“Why? Did you get tired of waiting?” you asked, leaning affectionately in his hands. You feigned a sulky face. “Has your love faltered after waiting too long?”

“No,” he denied, a relieved smile finally showing on his lips. “I never stopped looking for you.”

“And I never stopped waiting for a chance to come and find you again,” you replied softly. “I've seen you, through the ages. Always so close, yet just out of reach.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared history pressing down on you. Wonwoo’s eyes never left your face, not even for a second. If he could, he wouldn’t even blink in case you suddenly disappeared and he realized this was all just a dream. You let him stare at you as much as he wanted, enjoying his attention and feeling happy about being able to hold him again. The world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you, bound by time and love.

Wonwoo thought back to the countless lives he had lived, the friends he had made and lost, the wars he had fought, and the empires he had seen rise and fall. Despite having everything, you had been the only one he wanted and loved, a beacon of hope and love that had kept him going. In his long life, he rarely prayed to the heavens who bestowed him the curse of immortality, but he prayed for you. He prayed they bring you back to him. If they really were up there, it seemed to Wonwoo that they had heard his earnest pleas. Or maybe not, but he still wanted to thank someone, whether it was god, fate, or the universe. Whichever it was, they had allowed him to reunite with his beloved once more.

He remembered a conversation with a philosopher in ancient Greece, who had spoken of the eternal nature of the soul. “Love transcends time,” the philosopher had said. “It is the one thing that endures, no matter the changes that come.”

Wonwoo had seen the truth of those words in the faces of lovers across the ages. He had seen it in the way a soldier clung to a locket, a token of his beloved back home. He had seen it in the eyes of a mother, cradling her newborn child. And now, he saw it in your eyes, as bright and full of love as they had been all those centuries ago.

“How is this possible?” he asked, still grappling with the reality of your presence.

“Honestly? I don't know,” you admitted. “But does it matter? We're here now, together.”

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Please don’t let this be a wicked dream that I would wake up from eventually.”

You chuckled heartily, leaning closer to kiss his forehead. “It’s not, Won. It’s me.”

“It really is. It is you, my love,” he chimed, lifting your chin to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

For the first time in centuries, he felt a sense of peace, a feeling of coming home. There was a certain sense of finality in this reunion. Wonwoo could not quite grasp what this meant, but it didn't matter—not now that you're finally sitting there with him after so long.

As the stars began to twinkle overhead, Wonwoo held your hand in his and brought you home. Finally, he had found what he had been searching for all these years. Wonwoo and you found your own timeless moment, a reunion that transcended the ages. And in that moment, you both knew that love, true love, was indeed eternal.

[fin]

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cheralith · 2 years ago

Text

if the shoe fits — 「 prince!vash x reader x prince!nai 」

content warnings ; gn!reader, they/them pronouns, reader wears a ball gown and mentions of makeup, mild violence, mention of a tri98 character, not much romance but more so tension from nai tbh whoops

contains ; royalty!au, cinderella-esque!au, gardener!reader, friends to lovers (?) (vash), enemies to lovers (?) (nai)

notes ; i can't stress enough how well rachmaninoff's symphony no. 2 in e minor: adagio, followed by largo suits this so much, please take a listen as you go!

The names of Nai and Vash Saverem of JuLai were no strangers to the townsfolk of their kingdom. Firstborn twins and only children to the late queen Rem Saverem, the two were notorious for sticking by each other’s side almost on the daily, but also for their contrasting personalities. In front of the people, Prince Nai is distant, only preferring to stare straight ahead when in an open carriage and seemingly ignoring his townsfolk. His lips would subtly purse at the sight of the crowd before drawing a breath and crossing his arms over his chest. He says that it’s the best way to make an impression on the townsfolk—their future king cannot be bothered with sillier antics, unlike a specific someone.

Prince!Vash cannot be any more different from his brother, who is to be crowned with the regal title of “king” when he is of age. He’s much more connected with the townsfolk, often waving excitedly to them while in the carriage and taking any gifts that are handed to him with a large smile on his face, cherishing and archiving them in his bedroom. The ladies love him, their babies too, and he loves them back. A natural charmer—he’s managed to easily win the popularity contest amongst him and Nai, since he prefers to frolic out of the castle without suspicion to spend time with his people.

Prince!Nai busies himself more with work-related matters, ruling the palace with an iron fist. Make one move out of line and your fate is already decided by him before you can even beg on your knees. It’s not to say he’s completely authoritarian, however, since if he could rule the way that he truly wanted to, the townsfolk would despise him and would demand his younger brother to usurp him, despite the fact that the younger twin has no interest in royal politics.

Prince!Vash brings joy and light to the palace, he makes the place much more lively. He prefers to dine in the boisterous servants’ quarters rather than with his brother and other boring royal officials in the quieter dining hall, enjoying their stories about what life was like in the village or their stories about his late mother. They often say he reminds them of her—the fondness in his eyes, his soft and playful voice, and his pacifistic, loving demeanor. It’s also there that they freely complain about his brother without fear, to which Vash can only laugh and excuse Nai to the best of his abilities.

Prince!Nai knows his place in the world. He belongs to the higher pedestal, like a true future king should be. White gold and royal blue adorn most of his clothing, signifying his importance and regal nature. He knows his place in the world—he just wishes that everyone else does, too.

Prince!Vash forgets he’s a prince half the time, just like how he “forgets” to wear his crown (he just merely doesn’t like the feeling of superiority it entitles to him, but he guises it under the complaint of it being too heavy). He’s intrigued more by the culture of his kingdom and what a “normal” person would do rather than the gleam and glory offered by his palace.

On an early Saturday afternoon, Prince!Nai frowns at the sight of his brother talking amongst a particular someone when he passes by the gardens with his royal court following behind him while they continue mumbling about incessant political meetings with other kingdoms. He can recognize those dirtied gardening boots and soiled apron that sit a little too close to Vash’s thigh for his liking anywhere, and his frown deepens when he watches as an amateur royal gardener hands the younger prince a red flower with its petals all bustled together, clicking his tongue when dirt-stained hands touches the pure white of Vash’s glove.

Prince!Vash is awe-stricken by the flower you hand to him, carefully twirling it around with his fingers. It was his mother’s favorite flower, according to the other gardeners. You give him a toothy smile and say he came to the garden at the right time—geranium season has just bloomed and the garden sprinkled with their beauty all over this spring in honor of the late queen.

“I hear your mother was a lot like you,” you murmur quietly, watching as the prince pets the petals tenderly when you change into your spare, cleaner shoes. “Do you have memories of what she was like?”

He looks at you with a glimmer of longing flashing through his cerulean eyes. You’re about to apologize for your hastiness when you see his lips thin momentarily before he gently smiles and leans back into the seat of the gazebo that protects you and him from the afternoon sun.

“Gentle,” is what slips past his lips, “is what I remember best. Kind and wise, too. She used to always tell me that there’s beauty everywhere, even in the harshest of places. All it really takes is for one to just simply,” he reaches over to you and gently nestles the flower neatly in between your hair and ear, not noticing you stiffen at his touch despite him looking at you straight in the eyes. “... look a little closer.”

Prince!Nai can only huff at the shared touch between a lowly gardener and the other branch of his royal blood before briefly excusing himself from the royal counsel to escort himself to the gardens, not wanting his brother to be in such close radius of you any longer. He calls out his name sternly, making you and him flinch at the sound of his voice. His nerves relax themselves when Vash pulls away from you, but his jaw clenches slightly when he sees a speck of dust on the fingertip of his glove that Vash scratches his cheek with, embarrassed.

“You should be getting ready for tonight’s ball,” Nai states flatly, not even acknowledging your existence when you bow and greet him. “There is much preparation to do.” His eyes fleet towards you, where you stand still, your head still bowed to show your respects to his majesty. “I expect the flowers for the ballroom to be set up by early evening,” is all he says to you before trotting away with his head held up high.

Prince!Vash makes sure that his brother is out of sights before he sighs and urges you to lift your head up. Apologizing for his brother’s rudeness, he can only sigh at the fact that he couldn’t sneak out of the palace tonight like he usually does, making you laugh when he pouts at the thought of entertaining boring old nobles and lords.

“I wish I could say that,” you mention as you smooth your pants out. “Balls seem like fun—dancing around in pretty clothing and eating all those tasty desserts the chefs make.”

Vash snorts. “Sure, they’re fun if you like talking awkwardly with people twice your age and having people step on your feet after not being able to sit down for almost three hours.”

“But still!” you exclaim. “Just the thought of being in a ballroom and being with everyone enjoying themselves would be such a delightful sight.”

As you sigh dreamily about your fantasies, Prince Vash can only stare at you incredulously, marveled at the two different worlds that sit side by side so close under a gazebo. He wonders if you fantasize about royal life a lot, wondering if you think like him but with his fantasies about being a commonfolk and not worrying about the societal pressures of living up to his brother. He finds it so fascinating that such two different people from two different worlds can be together under a single roof, bonding over miniscule things like flowers. It’s what he finds so amazing about human nature the most—the skill of connection.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you gaze longingly into the garden when all of a sudden, an idea pops into his head.

Prince!Nai carefully watches with contempt as you and the younger prince talk amongst each other from his office window that sits a few stories above the garden, sneering when Vash holds both of your speckled hands suddenly and nods excitedly, the sparkle in his eyes evident even from a hefty height. His eyes narrow in suspicion when you shake your head to his unknown words; your brows furrow in nervousness before Vash caresses the top of your hands with his thumbs, making Nai’s icy blue gaze harden.

Prince!Vash is about to beg on his knees at this point.

“You must come! You’d enjoy it, I promise,” Vash pleads as he grips your hands tighter. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, so you won’t feel too anxious.”

“Your majesty—” you attempt.

He pouts. “Please don’t call me that,” he says with a soft frown, not enjoying the sudden formality.

“—it would not be wise for a menial gardener such as I to attend such a regal event,” you whisper, your eyes darting over the place to avoid any eavesdroppers. The palace does enjoy its part-time gossip, after all. “I am not suited for it.”

“But I am inviting you!” he exclaims. “You would be coming on my behalf. I’m allowed to do that, I swear!”

Your lips purse in anxiousness, a thick swallow trailing down your dry throat. “It would not be deemed appropriate… and what if his majesty found out about one of his staff attending a royal ball and not tending to it?”

“Then that would be my problem to handle,” Prince Vash retorts. “Please come. It’d make me eternally happy.”

“I…” your words fail you, and you do consider giving in for a brief moment just to get the prince off your tail before your eyes deepen with disappointment one more time. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I must refuse your offer.”

Prince!Nai cocks a brow when he sees his younger brother’s smile disappear and morph into a saddened frown at your words that he can’t seem to articulate from the window above. He watches a little too intently when Vash heaves a great big sigh and finally stands up, his eyes rolling when he offers you his hand. Assuming that the conversation between a gardener and blue blooded prince is finally over, he moves his eyes to his royal secretary.

“Must this be a ball with the intention of finding me a spouse…?” Nai huffs, settling himself in his chair. “I can rule a kingdom perfectly fine without the nuisance of a marriage.”

Legato can only shake his head at his superior’s words. “Tradition goes as follows, your majesty. Your coronation cannot take place without a spouse by your side. At least you are able to choose them—your mother was not granted that option.”

The future king of JuLai knows that, and he also knows that he should be more grateful to what he is given. But he has always been alone and prefers to keep it that way, his younger counterpart being the only exception. Yes, his mother may have married to a more irrelevant royal, but after his death, she was able to rule JuLai properly by herself, so why couldn’t he? Nai only shakes his head before staring at the royal orb and scepter that sit in their glass box on the dresser, a reminder that he keeps close to remind him of his goals and his duties. He can feel the ghost of their coldness on his palms from practicing so much in the mirror. His hands twitch.

“Your outfit for the ball is in your quarter’s, my prince,” Legato says before excusing himself to make sure the preparations for the ball are in place.

Nai can only sigh in disappointment when he watches the doors of his office close before standing up again to face the window. His eyes graze around the garden again before sharply landing on the gazebo again, where nothing but soil-ridden boots stand under it

Prince!Vash looks into your eyes, where disappointment hides under a curtain of uncertainty. He sighs, releasing your hands from his grasp. He supposes that it does seem a little too risky to sneak in a commonfolk into the royal ballroom, and he wouldn’t want you to face any punishments if you were caught.

“Thank you for the invitation, though,” you retort. “I truly do admire your enthusiasm.”

“If I was able to invite the entire kingdom, I would,” the prince sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m sure everyone would enjoy it, especially the children.”

You smile softly at his words; he was always a man of the people and it never fails to show even during more private moments. “I have no doubt about that. Perhaps in another lifetime, when you are king, you’ll be able to do that.”

A haughty laugh escapes his lips. “If I am able to do that without being a king or leader of sorts, that’d be better. Honestly, if I’m able to just one day escape this life in general—I’d be satisfied.”

You shrug casually. “What’s stopping you? You could always just escape and go live under a fake name, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

Prince Vash pauses suddenly. He snaps his head to look at you with a sudden idea lingering in his head at the mention of a fake name. Glassy eyes go to scan your figure up and down and slowly, an almost mischievous grin starts to etch onto his face.

“Fake name, huh?” he raises his eyebrows at your confused countenance. You exclaim out of surprise when he suddenly tugs you away from the gazebo and back into the castle. “I have an idea.”

The evening sun is beginning to rest its rays. Prince!Nai watches from the leveled floor as the guests begin to flock in numbers into the ballroom, occasionally bowing to greet those who greet him. Legato stays by his side closely, making sure no one would get too comfortable to the royal host, his eyes darting to eye any suspicious characters.

“Is there anyone that you find… interesting so far, your majesty?” Legato murmurs. Nai finds his attempt at loose matchmaking poor.

"Do not ask such foolish questions,” Nai scoffs quietly as he bows to a curtsied countess that bats her lashes at him. “Where is Vash? He should’ve been down by now.”

Prince!Vash waits outside an almost-never used dressing room, wincing occasionally as he hears you yelp from the pain of having your hair tugged in a certain direction or cough from the amount of powder dabbed onto your face. His plan was sure to work; have you be disguised under a fake name with a fake title from a fake kingdom and merely just have you accompany him the entire night under the impression that you and him fancied each other when in reality,it’d just be you helping him get through the night to avoid talking to other political figures and most importantly—let you have fun.

“Are they almost ready?” Vash asks the head seamstress that runs in and out of the corridor. He pulls out his inherited pocket watch from his mother, its hands ticking a little too fast for his liking. “I’d hate for us to be late.”

“Nearly, your majesty,” she replies, ribbon between her teeth as she shuffles back into the room. “Give us another moment—they do not seem to have a tolerance for a makeover, I’m afraid.”

He gives out an amused laugh when he hears you hiss through your teeth as your hair gets pulled back. “P-please be more gentle…” he hears you mumble.

“Work your magic however, Meryl,” Vash grins and says with a wink, “I’ll give you and your team double the pay if you manage to make my jaw drop.”

Prince!Nai anxiously taps his foot, his eyes flickering back and forth between the growing crowd of nobles and the large clock that screams Vash is quite late. The guests themselves have asked a number of times where the younger Saverem is, his presence already ghosting around the ballroom.

“Legato,” Nai calls. “Take Livio and Monev to search for Vash. I cannot have his tardiness stain our reputation like this,” he stresses.

“Prince!Vash!” Milly, a handmaiden, calls out worriedly. Distress floods her entire being, causing her to trip on the rug and fall towards him. His reflexes do not fail him (he can thank all the swordsmanship training for that one) and manages to break her fall with his arms. “Prince Vash! They’re looking for you! Prince Nai’s bodyguards are asking about your whereabouts—!”

Vash curses under his breath, knowing that your transformation wasn’t complete yet. “Meryl, how many more minutes do you need?” he calls aloud to the head seamstress, only for his face to pale when he receives a reply of a plentiful fifteen more minutes at minimum from the closed door. He turns back to the handmaiden, urging her to, “Tell them I’ll be down there shortly, and that I was just um… occupied in the bathroom!” he laughs unconvincingly before urging her to leave the corridor and forward the message.

He knocks on the door. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

His heart lightens at the sound of your voice coming from all the commotion. “I, uh…”

He wanted a chance to at least look at you to see if you were properly fitted for the part before the ball. “I unfortunately have to go down to meet my brother, so I won’t be able to escort you like I promised… but I’ll meet you down there once you’re down!”

There’s a brief pause before you ask, “You’re not coming with me?”

He swears the mild disappointment in your voice is enough to break him whole. “I can’t, I’m so sorry. But both Milly and Meryl know what to do, I’m putting them in your care!”

Vash begins to dart out of the corridor before he pauses and quickly walks back up to Milly, and in a hushed tone, reminds her, “And please… do not forget about my gift to them.”

Prince!Nai hears his name being called aloud from the right side of the ballroom. His silver eyes meet deeper azure ones in sweet relief, before becoming unamused again at the sight of his brother’s hair all tousled, his sash not properly seated across his chest, and his crown sat improperly atop his head.

“Where were you?” Nai mutters to him before fixing the brooch on Vash’s collar. “Everyone was asking about your whereabouts?”

“Ouch!” Vash exclaims when Nai tightens his collar. “On the toilet. I think I had too much to eat for lunch, haha.”

Nai only looks at him with mild disgust. “No matter,” he waves off. “The fact is that you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Nai’s next few minutes are filled with him commemorating the ball to the currently present guests, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules to celebrate such a festivity with him and letting him host such a regal event. He etches on a fake smile to the people below him, making it subtly known of his position above them on the leveled flooring by refusing to greet them from down below and making them come to his feet.

The last few guests are still flocking in by the time the first couple of dances start, and Nai can’t help but eye Vash’s fidgeting and consistent scanning of the ballroom floor. He watches as Vash’s eyes go to dart at the clock while bouncing on his heels—biting his lip in what seems to be a foreign anticipation of sorts. Nai is about the question if he was alright, seeing as how nervousness was an extremely rare face that his brother would put on until when Vash’s eyes return to the dance floor. They no longer bounce about the crowd but instead, fixate on a specific sight that makes his jaw drop slightly. But when Nai attempts to share the same sight, Vash beelines down to the dance floor, Nai’s shouts of his name falling deaf to his ears.

He hesitates to follow him, but his foot stops in place and almost enables him to move. Before becoming paralyzed at the sound of his name being called by one of the royal advisors. Nai snaps at him to leave him be, glaring at the man and making the advisor stiffen and scurry away, but when he returns his eyes back to the dance floor, Nai almost loses sight of his twin just before he spots him weaving through the dancers thanks to his bold red suit.

“Vash!” His eyes follow him until Vash slows towards something—no, someone that Nai can’t see thanks to his brother’s broad build. He grits his teeth, almost losing his composure at his brother’s hyperactiveness.

His tension suddenly seems to ease itself when Vash finally moves out of view to reveal what had gotten him so worked up.

Prince!Vash looks at you breathlessly, eyes wide and an open-lipped smile gazing down upon you as you stare up at him.

“You look…” he scans your complete appearance ever so carefully, savoring every detail.

The flecks of the lights given by the chandelier embellish you in a soft spotlight. Adorned in a shimmering, celeste blue ball gown bespeckled with diamonds that had made everyone around gaze at you in wonder, Vash bit his lip—the color suited you a little too well for his liking. Elbow-length silk gloves snaked their away around arms that were usually shielded with soil-stained gardening gloves, and instead of a wide-brimmed sun hat like you usually wore that hid your face and hair from view, your hair was neatly done and atop your head settled not a sun hat, but a jeweled tiara with matching earrings and a choker that opened up your painted face.

Normally, you do not get a lot of eyes following during the daytime when you’re in your usual outerwear. But Vash can’t help but feel weary when he sees people eye you with curiosity and admiration in your current attire—some part of it wants to believe that it’s only because you’re talking with him, but all their attention is on you, like his own.

When Vash doesn’t finish his sentence, you worriedly fidget with the itchy material. “Do… Do I look weird?” you inquire with no self-security in your voice. “Is it too flashy—”

“No!” Vash shouts a little too loudly, gaining a couple of stares and raised eyebrows around him. “You look…” he swallows thickly, attempting to find better words to describe your appearance, but all that weakly chokes out is, “beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.”

A heat rushes to your face before you softly smile. “Thank you. You look just as dashing tonight, my prince. Oh and uh,” you lift the skirt of your ball gown up slightly, just enough to reveal the beauty of a pair of iridescent, sapphire-dusted glass slippers that sparkle just like the crystals in the chandelier above the ballroom. “Thank you for the gift. Your goodwill is valued greatly.”

He can’t help the bashful smile that creeps onto his lips; it feels like he was just complimented by a divinity themselves. “I-I hope it’s to your liking, and I tried my best to guess your shoe size. Are they too tight? Too large? I can quickly ask for a replacement pair if—”

You hold your gloved hand up to pause his rambling, lips curling into a soft smile. “They’re the perfect fit, my prince.”

Relief floods Vash, and he lets out a dramatic breath that makes you laugh from his antics. The young prince then reaches his hand out towards you, moving aside to let you take a better look at what you desired most—the elegance of a ballroom floor.

“Well then, shall we dance?”

Prince!Nai breathes in sharply as he sees a stranger take his brother’s hand—so sharply it stings his nose, not enjoying how the stranger touches Vash so unbelievably casually. It doesn’t help his case when he doesn’t recognize who the stranger was in the snowy blue ball gown despite him knowing nearly every single person in the ballroom. He first wonders why Vash knows them, then he second guesses himself and asks why they know Vash seeing as how the conversation between the two was friendly—a little too friendly.

He’s brushed with a sense of familiarity, almost. The air feels thinner.

He stares at the two as Vash helps them onto the dance floor, where the stranger seems to already be stumbling over their own two feet. Nai can recognize a face of worry anywhere, and it’s currently plastered on their visage—pursed lips, wide eyes, he’s seen every form of it from the palace’s workers when he’s around.

Another conversation busies itself between them and Vash… and it almost looks like he’s giving the stranger instructions on how to waltz properly. From the looks of it, the stranger seems to be some sort of a viscount or baron, judging from how particularly young they were… but what sort of noble doesn’t know the basics of a waltz? Nai’s brows furrow, his ears drowning out everyone else who tries to receive him in concentration between the two particular individuals on the dance floor.

“Legato,” he chants, his eyes not leaving the two when the stranger accidentally seems to step on Vash’s foot, making them both exclaim in surprise, a short burst of laughter between the two quickly following. “Who is that dancing with Vash? The one in blue.”

“Hm?” his royal secretary looks up from his clipboard and squints at the stranger stiffly dancing. He squints. “I’m not… too sure, your majesty… I don’t think I can recall them on the invitation list.”

“Perhaps a trespasser?” Nai mutters to himself, poorly attempting to hide his horror. It was not uncommon for those not under noble titles to attempt to sneak into festivities they were not allowed into, though they had never made it particularly far. How dare a lowlife commoner sneak onto royal property and seduce his brother?! What sort of things or favors could the stranger possibly want from the royal prince? The thought of his more naive sibling being taken advantage of by a mere villager makes Nai’s blood boil hastily. “Bring them to me at once.”

Prince!Vash looks at you with a partiality embedded into his eyes, watching as your own fleet over the beauty and articulation of the ballroom’s interior and marveling at the people decorated in fancy clothing. Joy is plastered all over your face, even though you’d never admit it.

“How do you take the ball so far?” Vash asks quietly as he gently picks you up on a strengthened beat, settling you down easily. He can hear the clink of your glass slippers being set on the dance floor softly, like two champagne flutes toasting together.

“It’s all I ever could’ve dreamed about,” you sigh happily. “Thank you again, I truly do appreciate it.”

“I thought I could use the company,” he laughs, “I haven’t run into any weird marquesses or dukes yet, so keep at—” Vash’s smile suddenly falls flat onto the floor at the sight of a familiar bluenette approaching your and his way, a sternness that replicates his elder brother’s on the royal secretary’s face. A nervous bob of his throat attempts to hide itself under his ascot. He can’t let his nerves get to him or you.

“Legato.”

“My prince,” Legato greets flatly, giving a poor bow that would be completely unacceptable under Nai’s eyes, “Your majesty requests you and your…” Legato’s narrow eyes trace your figure, his brow raising when you look away instead of greeting him. “... accompaniment at once. He would like to meet them properly.”

Vash’s spine freezes, and he can feel you stiffen as you grip his gloved hand a little tighter. “O-of course, we’ll be there in just a mo—.”

“He requests your presence, now.”

He and you can only anxiously follow Legato’s figure in the crowd, a worried glance from you meets his half-secured one, silently telling you, “Rest assured,”

Prince!Nai watches under stone-cold eyes as the mysterious stranger, Vash, and Legato come before him, all three of them bowing in respect to the future king.

“Vash,” Nai declares, making his younger brother look up, “Would you care to introduce me to… your companion?” he asks, not even attempting to acknowledge the stranger that stands idly beside him.

There’s a pregnant pause that skims through the thickened air between the three of them before Vash exclaims out in surprise and nods his head rapidly, a large smile (yet somehow doesn’t reach his eyes) plastered on his lips. “A-ah! Yes, of course!” Vash gestures to the person beside him.

Prince!Vash steps aside to introduce you properly, signaling to you that he will do most of the talking for you, giving Nai your given fake name. “They’re the child of a noble from the high court of the kingdom of Marche, and they’re coming on their father’s behalf since he has fallen ill.”

You curtsy to him out of respect, trying your absolute best to avoid the future king’s cold gaze looking down upon you. “It is such an honor to be invited to such a prestigious event, your majesty.”

Prince!Nai doesn’t reply to you, only letting out a soft grunt of semi-acknowledgement. His stare doesn’t break from you, though, still halfway convinced that you were who you said you were.

“Marche…” Nai mutters and tucks his chin in between his fingers. “Where is that on the map? I don’t recall such a kingdom.”

“It’s a rather small domain!” Vash exclaims hastily. “It’s up towards the northern hemisphere, so it’s almost entirely covered in snow—! All the way up to one’s knees!”

Nai’s eyes narrow. “And how exactly do you know that?”

Prince!Vash’s mouth suddenly pools with regret at what he said. Words get caught up in his throat and his mouth hangs open like a fish.

“Prince Vash was so kind enough to send food and supplies to our kingdom after we were hit with a sudden blizzard,” you interrupt. “Our kingdom thanks him charitably for such generosity.”

The older Saverem turns to look at Vash with a hardened look on his face. “When was this? Why was I not made aware of it?”

“You were too busy with leveling out the war between Augusta and Mei-City during the time,” Vash continues, “I didn’t want to make things worse since you were so stressed, so I decided to take matters into my own hands with Marche.”

Prince!Nai’s irritation seems to grow more and more with the passing seconds that he’s in close proximity with you. He finally takes a step down from the pedestal that sits viewing the ballroom and lifts your chin up with his gloved hand—examining your features. Something about you seems too… retrospective.

Nai thinks it’s too loose of a term.

His face scans your weary eyes, your painted, warbling lips, the slope of your nose, the crease of your eyes… he can’t quite place his finger on it, but your face doesn’t only look familiar, but feels familiar, as well, as if the shape and angles of it mimic someone else. It frustrates him that he just doesn’t know who. All he knows is that you are not worthy of the tiara placed atop your head because it looks too strange… too foreign on you.

“You remind me of someone,” he murmurs as he changes the angles of your face with his hand whilst brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Someone I know. Someone I’ve seen before.” His voice goes criminally soft, so quiet that only you’re able to detect the poison in his voice that stings you with disarray.

You step back a little too rashly. “I have… rather the common face, your majesty,” you excuse with a tight throat.

“I see.” The future king continues to study your features for a few more seconds before almost thrusting your face away from him—you draw a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you attempt to regain your balance. Returning his attention to Vash, he merely states, “I’d hate to spoil your fun for tonight, brother. I hope that you and… your company… enjoy yourselves,” before brisking off stiffly somewhere else, most likely somewhere he can quietly watch you two with watchful eyes.

Prince!Vash notices your shaken-up disposition and places a hand on the small of your back to let yourself breathe properly when you and him head back to the floor. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but your eyes warble with a curtain of glass over them. Vash thins his lips and briefly apologizes again, per usual, for his brother’s antics, attempting to ease you with excuses of how he’s always like that towards people he didn’t know and he’s just too overprotective of him.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” you choke out, pacing a bit forward. “I should probably leave before he really confirms something—”

“No! Don’t!” Vash abruptly grabs your hand and forcefully turns you around to face him before you can escort yourself out the ballroom you had been in for less than half an hour. He had done too much effort for you to be here, it’d be too much of a waste of time (and money!) if you left so early.

Your eyes widen at his rashness, blinking owlishly.

“I-I mean… there’s still a lot of time left… and I could really, reallyyy use the company,” Vash pleads and grips your hand a little tighter while he waltzes you onto the ballroom with him. “I promise I won’t let him near you without me,” he softly whispers before the large crescendo from the orchestra.

“Just follow my lead.”

Prince!Nai watches from the corner of his eye as he talks amongst different dukes and earls about the latest news regarding the seven kingdoms, not exactly picking up on their words like he usually does considering his mind was displaced somewhere else that needed his attention more desperately than political scandals.

He bounces about the ballroom, going from individual to individual in hopes to try and get a better glimpse of Vash and the seemingly uninvited guest from “Marche.” It wasn’t too difficult considering the blue gown you were wearing on the dance floor was eye-catching, but the other people in the crowd made it much too difficult to get an unblocked view of you. Vash doesn’t seem to be letting go of your side, either, unwilling to move more than a couple of meters away from you even as he talks amongst others.

“Livio, what do you know of a kingdom by the name of ‘Marche?’” Nai asks his bodyguard.

The half-masked man turns to him, confused. “I have never heard of such a nation, my prince.”

Nai is half-convinced. Livio had never been all the best at book smarts, let alone geography, so he turns to the embodiment of his second brain, asking the same question. Legato chuckles darkly, clutching something behind him. “I checked the historical archives a few minutes ago, and you would be quite intrigued as to what I had found, your highness.”

Legato shows him a torn-out, faded map of the seven cities, subcities still etched onto it…

… minus the addition of a particular northern region.

“There is no such nation under the title of ‘Marche’, your highness,” Legato says, a smirk sneaking onto his lips. “Your suspicions were right. That person besides Prince Vash… is a fraud.”

Prince!Vash happily dips you down just before the exuberant song played by the orchestra ends, making you yelp in surprise before laughing aloud with him at his sudden caper. He pulls you up again with ease and wipes the sweat of his brow. “Probably the best song they’ve played so far!”

“Indeed,” you sigh out as you fan yourself. You never expected a ballroom to become rather stuffy—or perhaps it was the constant dancing you had been doing for the past couple of hours that caused you to become so flushed. “I’m going to get some air outside before I pass out, is that okay?”

Vash, completely forgetting the vow he had made to you at the beginning, nods and tells you he’ll be close by to grab some refreshers and leaves you to your own accord. “Don’t take too long! The final dance is about to begin!”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, nodding before you whisk away to the chilled air of the garden. The night is young—you’ve never felt more alive than you did now. Perhaps you did make the right decision to tag along with the young prince this evening, since starting tomorrow, you would no longer be able to experience the joyous experience of tonight and would have to go back to tending to the garden that you walk about in. A statue honoring the late queen Rem sits in the center of it all, and it gazes upon you with a familiar gentleness. The moon is set high and it smiles down upon you as you breathe fresh air into your lungs again as you settle onto a stone bench that sits in front of the statue, watching as the nocturnal wildlife in the garden play and prance.

A rabbit peers at you from underneath a rose hedge curiously, mimicking your actions as you tilt your head at it. You fight the urge to let out a coo before you motion it towards you, you’ve always had somewhat of a knack with animals. It slowly reveals itself and prances toward you with its eyes mirroring the moonlight before it scurries away when a looming shadow approaches you from behind, obviously frightened.

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself quite well tonight,” Prince!Nai declares behind you.

Startled, you let out a soft cry of surprise before you turn around and face austere, glacial orbs that belong to the one and only future king of JuLai. Your heart pulses—already having a sneaking suspicion of why such a prestigious royal figure was isolated with you in the lone garden.

“Y-your highness,” you answer weakly, knees about to give out as you stand on weak legs. You aren’t sure whether the ache from your calves is because of all the dancing or because of the nerves.

“How is the ball?” Nai questions whilst he circles around you like a hawk around its prey. You can only stand so still as you look straight ahead, not daring to look into those eyes. “Is it to your liking? I hope the music fairs nicely, I picked it out myself.”

Clutching onto the fabric of your gown, you nod compliantly as you continue to avoid eye contact. “You have… great taste in music, my prince.”

“Why, thank you,” he replies, a confidence he exudes casually distinguished in his voice. “How is the food? The pastries are not too sweet?”

“Not at all, your highness…” Your nerves slowly begin to freeze over the more laps Nai does around you, caging you in an invisible rope as his eyes never leave your figure, the same eyes that were used to examine you much too closely.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he mumbles. “Tell me, what foods do you usually have in Marche? I have a particular sweet tooth, are there any desserts you’d recommend me if I were to… take a visit there?” he stops pacing and settles himself in front of you, his aura wading off nothing but dominance. “To just check up on how the state of it is, you know. That must’ve been a terrible blizzard, I’m sure.”

The inked sky hides your heated sweat, but doesn’t hide your chest rapidly going up and down and your breath betraying you. It falls too short. “There’s…” your words get mixed up, voice going soft. “There’s a cake th-that we eat annually during the celebration of the… the…”

Nai cocks a brow, tilting his head almost coyly to the side. “The…?”

“The… anniversary of the war against the neighboring kingdom we won a few decades ago,” you complete with little confidence.

“Oh?” Nai’s eyes narrow, a subtle smirk snaking on his lips. “Which kingdom?”

You can feel your voice begin to fail you. Eyes darting around for a familiar tuft of straw blonde hair and a dashing red suit, you don’t seem to spot anyone else in the garden except for you and the future king.“I… I can’t seem to recall, your highness, my apologies…”

He chuckles and comes to your aid all of a sudden and answers for you, instead. “I recall Augusta having conflict with a certain kingdom in my history books, perhaps it was them, then?”

A haughty laugh and nod sneaks their way past you without second thought. “Y-yes! Augusta—! I’m honored to say that we were able to triumph over them, despite a rather tough beating—”

“Liar.”

A thick pause goes through the garden before it’s broken by the sudden loud gong of the palace clock, alerting the stroke of midnight was upon you.

“P-pardon?” you hesitantly ask, turning your head up to the prince before your nerves completely freeze over and paralyze you in your spot at the sight of his ice cold eyes piercing straight into you.

Prince Nai slowly steps towards you, his sullen countenance never faltering. “Augusta… is located in the southwestern hemisphere, where there is nothing but dry land and deserts for iles. I do not think that such a land would be neighboring a kingdom where a blizzard devastated it.”

Your breath hitches. Vash is nowhere to be found, no matter how hard you look around you, and you are much too far away from the ballroom courtyard to see anyone else that can come to your rescue. Not even the animals of the night seemed to appease you with their presence, leaving you entirely to your own devices in the hands of the future king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet.

“I—must’ve gotten my facts mixed up,” you choke out, feeling the air around you become thinner and thinner with each step Nai takes. “W-was it Augusta? Oh no… it was Dec—”

“December," he starts, his voice knowing. "was perished in an avalanche more than two centuries ago,” Nai interrupts, as he circles behind you. “Nothing, no one remains there except ruin,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending shrills up your spine.

His foot goes to step onto the fabric of your gown, making you fall over backwards and prey to his wrath. Your lip trembles as he looms over you with his broad build. You second-guess your thoughts from minutes earlier, the blood from your heart pumping into your ears all too loudly.

You should’ve never accepted Vash’s invitation.

You should’ve never put on those beautiful, gifted glass slippers.

You should’ve never given into temptation.

“So now, tell me why…” his voice drops to a poisonous whisper when he crouches beside you. “I also was not able to locate Marche on a recent map.”

His actions repeat from earlier, but this time, they have too much force and strength. Nai grabs your chin almost painfully and ignores your cries of pain when he squeezes your jaw between his hand, forcing you up on your feet to look up at him.

“Y-your highness—”

“You’re a fraud,” Nai declares venomously. “A fake, a trespasser, and a criminal who wants to squeeze every living cent out of my brother, yes? Tell me, you pest…” his grip on your jaw tightens so harshly, you’re frightened that your cheeks, now beginning to stain with pained tears, will bruise from his fingers and your attempt at prying his fingers off work to no avail. You’re frightened that your teeth will squeeze out of their cavings from the strength of his grip. “What did you want from Vash? Money? Jewels? Or did you wish to harm him in the work of another kingdom? Are you a spy? Answer me, snake.”

Your rapid shakes of your head do not convince Nai that you aren’t a threat at all, only making his hand that grips your jaw go to your throat. “I am none of th-those…”

“Liar!” Nai thunders, his voice booming throughout the garden as he draws his sword from his hip and places it aside your throat, the prick of the blade grazing your skin. Nai’s eyes wind with malice as your gaping ones that tangle with fear stare straight at him. “Tell me the truth or face a fate worse than death it—”

“Nai! Let go of them!”

Prince!Vash goes to sprint towards you from the entrance of the palace’s courtyard. Nai drops you out of shock and your fight or flight instincts finally begin to kick in when your nerves thaw from the shock.

You watch for another split, merciful second as Vash quickens in pace, but he’s still much too far to reach you in time. As you get up, your slippers barely supporting your weight, fatigue is beginning to kick in much too early. The muscles in your limbs ache and suddenly feel all too heavy for your liking, but with a final burst of strength given to you by an unknown will, you manage to get away from his grasp by shoving him. The strength shocks both you and him, however, and launches you straight backwards into the stone statue of the late queen. You can only watch in horror as it lands forward, shattering into little pebbles of cobblestone.

The impact of the statue of Rem Saverem knocks you down to your feet again, as well as Prince!Nai, and he uses your disposition to his advantage before you can start your getaway. His hand determinedly locks around the heel of your slipper as he hisses out, “You… are not going anywhere, trespasser.”

“Please—!” you cry out as you tug with all your strength from his grip, vision blurring from the tears that rim around your eyes. “I meant no harm!”

Another wave of strength fueled by adrenaline rushes through your body and through the fatigue, through the fear, through the horror of it all, you manage to slip your foot away from your slipper before finally sprinting away.

Prince!Nai begins to get up and chase after you until he’s tackled shockingly by Vash, forcing the two into a wrestling fight on the dirt. Nai shouts at him to let go and chase after the trespasser, with Vash retaliating with a firm decline and holding him down to the best of his abilities whilst taking in the kicks and punches and insults Nai forces upon him. Unwillingly, he blows a punch to Nai’s gut and Nai spits out a mixture of blood and saliva, doubling over on the garden floor that’s now littered with trashed petals of flowers and speckles of stone and marble because of two.

The head of Queen Rem Saverem’s eyes glisten up at them almost disappointingly in the moonlight.

Vash staggers up slowly, limping from the scratch marks his elder brother clawed into his leg. He glares at his brother through a black eye. “They said it themselves, they meant no harm!”

“Who were they, Vash?!” Nai cuts in, glaring up at him. “If they meant no harm… who were they?!”

Prince!Vash can only look at Nai almost pityingly as his chest rises and falls. If he were to admit who you truly were… he knew for a fact Nai would have you exiled from the kingdom… or worse, executed entirely. He couldn’t let that happen—even with his excuses that he was the one that dragged you into this mess. His brother’s bias towards him could never be swayed.

He licks his lips, his eyes glancing at your minimizing figure in the distance.

“I…”

“Your highnesses!”

Prince!Nai and Prince!Vash look behind them to see Livio, Monev, and Legato rushing toward the two, all three appalled at the scene in the now-ruined portion of the garden and the sight of two dirtied princes with dirt and blood soiling them.

They do not have time to ask what on earth had happened, as Nai has already devised a plan to capture and punish the trespasser accordingly. His eyes fleet over to the crystal slipper clenched firmly in his fist, tightening it in his grasp more at the sight of it as a reminder of his failure to properly protect his brother from the lowlife that call themselves commoners.

“Tomorrow…” he heaves with a steady breath, his eyes darkening as he stares at the slipper, “Get every single young person in the kingdom into the palace and force this upon their foot.

“This…” He raises up the glass slipper for all of them to see. “... shall help us catch our criminal and punish them accordingly.”

“Nai—” Vash pleads through a bleeding lip. “Don’t!”

“Once you do find who suits the slipper,” Nai continues, before turning to where you ran off. His eyes bleed into your disappearing figure venomously before he picks up his sword and throws it at Legato’s feet.

“Bring them to me at once. Alive. I want to see them beheaded with my own two eyes.”

(a/n): hi again! i recently just watched the 2015 live action version of cinderella, and my, was it gorgeous. as the main inspo for this piece, i hope that the cinderella aspects were clear enough in this with my own twists to the story, since that was my main aim. i may include another part to this, maybe even turning it into a miniseries as a whole for all the nai lovers out there (i did him dirty here, sorry!!) because i myself want to include something for him, but i'll see how this piece does first and if anyone would be interested in a part ii to this.

other than that, thank you for reading, and reblogs are always appreciated :] !!

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

Text

Traditional X

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

We are getting to the end of what I believe is the main storyline here. Maybe one or two more parts but I already have at least three little extras lined up in my head too.

Additionally, I added in the days because it was kind of getting all over the place and I wanted to make sure the timeline wasn't too confusing--especially since we're winding down on days until the internship is over. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Also, another reminder I don't know anything about running a business.

This part has some minor character death/trauma mentioned, sensitive topics, grief, angst, and I may or may not have cried a bit while writing, so that should put it in perspective I think. Try not to hate me at the end I don't think you're going to like it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to read.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him: I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Friday

Louis and Eleanor were lying on her couch (and one another) while she lay on the rug in front of the coffee table, facing the TV. Her phone vibrated with a message from Harry.

Can we chat sometime today?

That sounds like a terrible way to break up with me. Don’t tell your other girls that.

Don’t be ridiculous, kitten. All of it.

I’ll call you when Louis and El leave.

I’ll be waiting impatiently.

“Must be Harry. She definitely doesn’t smile at Niall’s messages like that,” Louis chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to her friends. They were watching a movie trying to decide where to eat or if they should order in. It was a regular, run of the mill day. They worked their Friday shifts and now they were lying about her pretty apartment that she hardly felt she’d been spending any time in. Mondays of course were still dinner out with Harry, Thursdays were movie nights at his place (and with any luck something a bit cheekier, now), and she spent many Saturday nights at his place sleeping beside him until one in the morning where they spoke quietly, candidly about anything. In the morning, she woke up to a rotation of pancakes, waffles, or French toast.

And kisses.

She woke up to a ton of kisses.

So, this Friday evening, she spent with Louis and Eleanor watching a movie that was so trashy it was wonderful. “How’s the job search?” Louis asked.

She frowned. The one sore spot that seemed to get sorer each passing day. “I really thought interning at Styles Incorporated was going to give me a leg up,” she sighed. “I don’t know... I’ve applied to some top places and they’ve either passed or ghosted me. Maybe I need to lower my standards.”

“Absolutely not,” Eleanor said immediately. “You deserve the top. You deserve it all,” she said.

Smiling, she looked at Eleanor, snuggled under Louis who was draped across her lap, and he winked at her. “You deserve the very best, babe,” he told her.

She shrugged and let out a sad sigh. “I don’t think these places think I do though,” she mumbled. “But it’s fine...I... I don’t know... I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to let it stop me now. Another month and I’ll be done.”

There was a pause. “Speaking of,” Louis began. “I’m told your program does in fact, have a graduation ceremony.”

She blinked surprised by the idea as if she didn’t already know. “What?”

“Harry told me that of course your college has one and you—”

She only vaguely heard the end of Louis’ sentence. She was feeling...anger? Anger at Harry? It didn’t seem like that was a reasonable conclusion. She had never been mad at him in the eight months she had known him. But her chest started to ache, and her blood felt hot, and she didn’t want to be mad at Harry, but she was sad he betrayed her trust in what she told him at one in the morning. Even if it was a silly little thing like making sure she had people at her graduation ceremony. She shook her head. “I’m not walking,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to.”

“Love, you worked so hard!” Eleanor gasped. “Please! It would mean so much to us to see you do it. We want you to have that.”

While the kindness and the meaningfulness of their words was not lost on her, she was serious in what she told Harry. But maybe she left out the part that she didn’t want to walk across the stage because it would remind her of the last graduation ceremony she attended. The last time she remembered a big happy family memory. “When did Harry tell you?” She asked quietly.

“He didn’t know for sure when it was...He was probing around, I think, because he might be trying to get you something,” Eleanor said so excitedly she was practically clapping. “Oh, I bet it’s going to be amazing whatever he gets you.”

“We weren’t that surprised, but we told him that you weren’t walking because there wasn’t a ceremony...and he told us there most assuredly was—which did surprise us. Most interns went in the past, so what’s the scoop on that, love?” Louis smirked, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It caught in her hair. “Lying to your best friends?”

She didn’t feel like rehashing all the sad details and explaining why she didn’t want to go. “I just didn’t want it to be a big deal,” she shrugged as casually as she possibly could. She should have just told them, but she didn’t want it to be a thing.

However, Louis sensed there was more to her hiding it, immediately. It was why he was her best friend. But he didn’t press. Maybe he would later when he could get her alone. Every once in a while, he managed to pick up on something in her voice that said something of her past was coming through. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Well, that’s fine. We’d still like to go. A couple pictures and that’s it. Then dinner. Nothing else. I won’t even get you a card to commemorate the day.”

“Oh, I’m getting you a card,” Eleanor nodded fiercely. “Gonna write you the mushiest proud letter there is to write,” she smiled wrinkling her nose at her.

So, how could she say no to them? They loved her so wholly it really was unfair to exclude them after their endless support. Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s Saturday, the 14th,” she rolled her eyes. Both pulled out their phones and tapped rapidly putting it in their calendars.

“Good,” Louis smiled. “Now let’s go get dinner,” he said kissing Eleanor on his way off her lap and helping her up as he nearly ran for the door all in one movement. Eleanor rolled his eyes.

“You picked him,” she reminded El. “In high school too,” she shook her head and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“I know, aren’t I lucky?” El said with a mocking dreamy tone in her voice but she meant it. It was obvious on her face, and she loved that about Eleanor most of all. Letting Louis be himself, unapologetically. Louis was the very best and she was glad someone else saw it too. Eleanor squeezed her arm and followed him. She took a second to take in the moment. She couldn’t help but smile so completely happy with her life for the first time in a very long while.

She woke up at some point in the night by herself on the comfiest mattress she ever owned all thanks to Harry. She peered through two of the slats on the blinds of her window to get a better estimate of the time without having to look at her phone in hopes of falling back asleep in a few moments. It was still pitch-black out, save for the moon illuminating the sky.

After tossing and turning for nearly five minutes without drifting off quickly, she decided she may as well make good use of her time. She grabbed for her phone. As expected, the clock told her that if they were sharing a bed, it was time to have her nightly chat with Harry.

When she came back from dinner and before she fell asleep this evening, she told Harry she was a bit tired. She would call, of course. But she might drift off while talking.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him. I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Her heart was bursting. “Yeah?”

“M-hmm.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. She frowned. But it was like he knew she was frowning, because he continued, putting her mind at ease. “I would probably wake up from a coma t’hear your voice.”

She was so close to saying she loved him out loud. How could she not? But how would she be any different than any intern or companion before her? She was determined to wait until it was over. Until he stopped paying her and then she could at least tell him. So he knew and he could...decide if she was worth it. “Did you have a good day?” She whispered instead.

He yawned and she heard the rustling of his sheets. Sitting up against his fluffy pillows, she assumed. “S’alright,” it sounded as if he were shrugging it off. “I was in a crummy mood all morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she wished she went into his office earlier to see how she could have helped.

“Not something y’could have helped with, beautiful,” he had a smirk in his voice. It left her breathless that he could tell how she was feeling without seeing her. “Before y’worry.”

“Me? Worry?”

He chuckled that beautiful breathy laugh of his. She imagined his dimples, his glittering eyes. “Mmm...”

It was quiet for a moment and since he wanted to hear her talk, she thought she may as well get it out of the way. “So...” she sighed. “Louis and Eleanor found out about my graduation ceremony actually happening somehow...and they’re making me go.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, which told her he already knew that they had found out because of him. “I think y’should go, love.”

“I know. I’m going to.”

He sighed with relief. “That’s good.”

“If...” she swallowed awkwardly hating how she was even asking in the first place. “If you wanted to come...I think I get a ton of tickets...it is a Saturday so you wouldn’t miss wor—”

“Kitten, of course m’going t’be there,” he promised. “I’d sell m’company t’be there for you.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’d sell it t’Niall, maybe. But I’d still sell it.”

She giggled. “Do you think Niall would want to come, too?”

“Yes, absolutely. We wouldn’t miss it.”

She clutched the phone tighter to her ear enjoying the sound of Harry at the other end. The irritation she felt was only a nagging little bite on the inside of her head that she pushed away. Because really, this whole month had to be the most, and totally, happiest she had been in years.

Saturday/Sunday

“I blame myself for my brother’s death,” she said it softly. She didn’t even ask if he was awake. Either she somehow knew, or she wasn’t looking for him to answer. Harry frowned, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. It was a sudden comment, but it was the middle of the night. It was what they did.

“I don’t think that’s possible, kitten.”

“I went to some stupid school party. I didn’t want to get in the car with the person offering a ride home. So, he came to pick me up, no questions asked. Not a care in the world that it was almost two in the morning,” she shrugged against him. “A car hit us,” she said simply. It was silent for a minute. Harry hardly moved. “He must have seen it coming before I did... because he turned...so his side of the car took the brunt of the hit.” He squeezed her. “I tried to pull him out. Begged him to breathe,” she shook her head. “It was awful,” her voice cracked. Harry couldn’t imagine what she had seen. Couldn’t imagine what it took for her to get in the car. No wonder she walked everywhere.

“Y’don’t have t’tell me, love,” he told her, and he meant it. That was plenty. He could fill in the gaps if it meant she didn’t have to relive it again. He was sure she relived it every day.

“It’s why my parents hate me.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth. “They shouldn’t,” he fully believed that. He may not have judged them for the way they grieved but they lost one child in that accident. It easily could have been two and yet somehow, they chose to lose them both even though she was right there, alive and in need of love more than ever.

Harry wouldn’t say it to her now, but he would think part of his heart would feel like it was missing if she had been lost all those years ago. Whether he knew her or not.

“Sometimes I think they’re right to,” she sniffled. “I’d hate me, too. He was the best,” she whispered shakily.

“Kitten.”

He loved the dark and their little chats every day since they started. Today, he hated it. It was too revealing. This was hurting her. And he hated that most. “I should have died.”

“Thank God, you didn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. How many times had she said it to herself, her therapist, to Louis of all people? The only person who consoled her and not her parents...the only person who needed to be consoled as much as her was Louis. As he was breaking down, he was trying to keep her together. It wasn’t fair at all.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “It’s not.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

More silence. “I told you the dark is revealing.”

He smirked sadly. He wished he could tell her something just as revealing. But telling her he loved her so wholly when they weren’t in a relationship, not an actual one, after she was grieving for a moment in time, didn’t seem right. Harry wanted to tell her it was easy. Easy to love her. It was effortless having her in his life. He wanted to reveal something of equal weight. If only so she wouldn’t be sad. “I like getting t’know you,” he said instead.

“Even though I’m the reason someone died?”

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Someone else made a dumb decision, love. Of course, your brother would come t’help you. I’d do the same for Gem,” he promised. “S’in the brother handbook.”

“Louis said the same thing...he has a bunch of younger sisters...and me.”

“Louis would still do it for you, too; I’m sure.” They were silent again. He thought she fell asleep. Sometimes she would do that. So, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind forever. “I don’t want t’pry...What happened with your parents...after that?”

She shook her head. “Maybe another middle of the night talk. Not this one,” she mumbled.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course, love.”

“Thank you for...everything Harry. Really,” she yawned and nuzzled closer to his chest.

“Course, love,” he repeated and let her fall asleep beside him peacefully.

Wednesday

There was yelling from the other side of the door as she knocked, then immediately entered his office with tea. Right as she opened the door, he slammed the phone down to his desk. Then picked it back up and slammed it three more times into the receiver. She blinked and cringed with each hit. He slid a hand over his face and turned to face the window. Part of her thought he didn’t register she was in the room.

“Harry,” she said softly.

He shook his head. “Love, please jus’ leave the tea and go,” he grumbled. “M’gonna snap and I don’t want it t’be at you,” he sounded infuriated. Interns never seemed to work out because of his anger... She knew Niall worked hard to keep her away from Harry’s outbursts. Mostly because Niall knew Harry would never forgive himself if he ever broke her heart or scared her because of his job. But she still knew the stories. The whispers in the breakroom and by the copier about his anger weren’t something she could ignore. Sometimes Harry’s angry tone filled the whole floor. She bit her lip at his warning and nodded silently.

After she set the tea on his desk, she sat on the couch across the room. She sipped at her drink watching him tap on his phone screen searching for something. He turned back around after a moment looking at his computer and then she saw his eyes flicker over to her. “I know I told you t’leave,” his voice was icy. But she saw his gaze soften just a hair.

She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to set him off or make him any angrier than he already was. She was content to sit there...just wanted to wait there in case he needed her because that’s what she did. Even if he was going to pretend that she wasn’t there.

His phone was ringing from the other end while he called someone. “I need the file we looked at this morning...” A pause and she watched him clench his fist and he squeezed his eyes shut angrily. “Well, I don’t have it!” he snapped slamming his fist on the desk. “If I had it, I wouldn’t have called! Can’t you just do what I fucking ask and bring—"

She hurried to his computer after he slammed his fist down. Not caring even a little, when he hardly moved out of her way and continued yelling at the poor person at the other end of the line. The words he snarled into the phone didn’t reach her ears. With three clicks and a few taps it was on his screen. She stepped out of his way and sat back on the couch waiting for the next mini blowup. He put his phone down again as his eyes scanned the screen. He grumbled about something unintelligible under his breath and he tapped on his phone screen again and brought it to his ear for all of five seconds.

“Come here,” he said into his phone.

Within moments, Niall was there. He frowned seeing Harry’s anger but managed a quick wink at the sweet girl sitting quietly on the couch. She sipped her coffee while Niall went behind Harry’s desk. He looked at the screen for a few moments and she saw his face falter a bit; he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Well, we knew this was coming.”

Harry turned away and paced to the other end of the room. Hands on the back of his head. Niall scrolled on his screen and sighed. He glanced at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the pair of them since Niall stood next to Harry. “C’mere,” he said to her. She hurried back over. He pointed to several itemized lines and murmured a few things that she only had a vague understanding of due to her limited understanding of things that happened here at Styles Incorporated solely because in the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t been there that long, and she was just an intern.

She looked at the numbers, pursed her lips in concentration and did her best to calculate quickly. “Can you shrink this number?” She asked, pointing at the screen.

He glanced at Harry who looked ready to jump out the window. His head pressed to the glass taking deep, angry breaths. “No, darling.”

“How about this one?” She pointed to a different cell. He shook his head again. She looked over at Harry who was clearly distraught. Sighing, she thought for a few quiet breaths and Niall frowned as he scrolled. She thought back to all her classes, every lecture, and every assignment she had ever worked on. Unfortunately, she came to only one conclusion.

“You can have them file for bankruptcy,” she shrugged.

Niall pushed her behind him as soon as the beginning of that b-word left her mouth. Harry hated that word. At the same time, Harry spun rapidly, took three long strides, and menacingly glared through Niall in her direction. “Are you fucking serious?” He hissed but he was staring so angrily at Niall, but the expression was really meant for her. She gulped audibly. This had to have been the nightmarish things that previous interns spoke about. It made her stomach churn and she thought she might throw up. God bless Niall for standing in her way—she knew Harry wouldn’t resort to physical violence. Not even a little. She felt it in her soul. But part of her wondered if it would hurt less than his cutting, angry voice.

No wonder Niall never let her be around Harry when he was mad. This was terrifying.

“Harry—” Niall started.

She blinked in surprise at how angry he got. At her. But he did warn her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. “I am not having them file,” he growled.

Her face definitely turned red, and she swallowed nervously. “It’s your only option,” she whispered standing her ground anyway. He flung the cordless keyboard across the room. It smashed into the wall and many of the keys fluttered off in a heap against the wall. She flinched at the sound as he paced back to that side of the room.

“Darling, kindly shut it,” Niall whispered over his shoulder.

Harry paced and paced. Niall was still standing in front of her protectively as Harry grumbled to himself trying to make sense of it. “Why?” He practically barked at her. “Why’s it my only option?”

She took a deep breath. “The legal fees would equate to more than the bankruptcy payback.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. Niall even turned around and stared at her in surprise. “What?” She felt like this was a worse thing to say than bankruptcy. Niall stepped from in front of her and used the mouse to click through different screens on the computer, it took a moment because he no longer had a keyboard. He glanced at Harry and nodded.

Harry took a deep breath. “Can y’please explain that for me, love?” His voice was still tight with anger but at least he wasn’t barking at her or throwing things.

So, she did her best to explain that she remembered this once case she studied in her quantitative decision-making class. How it was expensive but kept the company afloat to file for a chapter of bankruptcy that allowed them to pay back the debt and keep going on if they could make it a few years. “She’s right...” Niall said clicking on the computer and gesturing to the screen. “Obviously,” he muttered under her breath.

Harry looked at the screen. While they did, she did some calculations on her phone. “So, they keep their assets?” He asked, looking up at her from the screen while Niall searched something on his phone to show Harry.

She nodded. “As long as they make this much,” she said and held her phone up to the two men.

Niall smirked. “I like her,” he said knowingly.

Harry sighed, still embittered. “Can you go buy me a new keyboard, love?” He asked.

Feeling like she had finally made a difference and helped a bit, she grabbed her coffee and nodded. “Sure,” she said softly.

“Don’t spend your own money on it either,” Harry said knowingly without looking up at her. She smirked to herself and left his office before she could say any more wrong things.

Since it was a Wednesday, she hadn’t seen Harry outside the office for two days. After getting the new keyboard and plugging it in, Harry was swamped for the remainder of the day. Lawyers, Niall, and others kept filing in and out of his office. At five in the evening, when most everyone was leaving, they were still coming and going. Niall hadn’t seen her in hours while she sat at her desk sending him files, answering calls, and taking messages. She knocked on the door before entering, carrying five or so pizzas and an assortment of drinks. Niall was the only one who noticed.

He winked at her, mouthed thank you, and watched as she left.

It was another hour before Harry noticed he was eating pizza...with pineapple on the slice. “Who got this?” He muttered.

“That cute intern of Niall’s,” one of the lawyers said.

“That’s your intern Niall? I’d be begging for her to alleviate the stress—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Niall said calmly. Harry was glad he had a bite of pizza in his mouth and Niall interrupted that sentence before it finished. After the day Harry had he wasn’t sure he had much self-control left to not physically attack someone—especially on behalf of her.

How did he not notice the sweet girl bringing pizza? He was certain even if the room was on fire, he would still take the time to notice her. He frowned. He had no idea she did this.

“I think this is enough for tonight, Mr. Styles,” someone said after hours of being there. Harry hadn’t looked at the time in ages. Since before lunch at least. He was only vaguely aware that it was after one at some point only because she brought his daily tea. He nodded silently, still upset about the day but also that he had no idea the perfect girl was there.

“You screamed at her, y’know,” Niall said condensing the pizza boxes. Placing the empty ones by the trashcan for the maintainers to take care of. After everyone left. Harry was helping clean up as well and packing his things.

Harry tended to get a little fuzzy on his consciousness when he was mad. “I told her to leave.”

“You’re stupid for thinking she would,” he rolled his eyes. “She’s quite brilliant,” Niall said knowingly. “When are you going to offer her a job?”

“It’s complicated,” he remarked. “I think if I create a job for her, people...will get suspicious.”

“Who cares?”

Harry worked extremely hard to get Styles Incorporated where it was so quickly. You didn’t become a thirty under thirty member without working hard. In all that time, Harry made every decision he could to the best of his ability. He always wondered if he made mistakes. He loved this company. It was his pride and joy.

The idea of losing pieces of it broke his heart. Since it happened twice within the last three months, and she managed to save both those pieces from falling to the wayside...

She seemed to know how much he loved his job, his legacy. He didn’t like her idea all that much today, even if it was good or his only option. Even when he yelled at her and snarled like she wasn’t the most special person he knew. She still voiced her opinion, and he knew that had to have been hard for her.

It hurt him to think of failing in even one little branch. But he couldn’t argue with her that it was the best option he had for this moment. “This was a brilliant idea,” one of the lawyers said as they typed furiously on their laptop. It was hours after the lovely girl left the new keyboard on his desk. Harry didn’t respond with anything but one little nod. “We should keep this in mind...would have saved you some money a few years ago,” she remarked with a gentle smile.

Niall saying “who cares” suddenly sparked something in him. Why did he care? She was brilliant. He didn’t have to convince anyone of that. It was obvious when she walked into any room, took a passing glance at whatever document they were discussing, any graph they were looking at and she casually pointed out inconsistencies and almost always managed to save him money.

“Have the other interns been like her?” He asked quietly. He had been so closed off, so worried about the reasons they were truly there... The thought of that horrible woman who made comments to the sweet girl about sleeping with him... Harry would feel terrible if he was so cynical about the entire intern process if a quarter of them were as smart as her.

Niall smiled at his best friend. The relief flooded him before Niall even spoke. “Harry, I don’t think there’s anyone like her.”

The knock on her door surprised her. She thought it might be Louis or Eleanor who couldn’t be bothered to walk the last five blocks back to their place after a late-night dinner. It was nearing ten and she was snuggled up on the couch with her book and music playing on the TV.

Harry was leaning against the opposite wall as she opened the door. “Oh, hi,” she said softly.

Harry stayed where he was, and he smiled at her, tiredly. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled.

She glanced down at her pajamas. A mismatching pair of shorts and a tank top. One sock on because only the left one was cold. Harry looked tired but beautiful as ever. His button-down sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his dress pants. The tie he had been wearing all day was gone, the button at his neck undone. His hair looked as if he ran his hand through it a few too many times but his tiredness seemed most evident on his face.

“Come in,” she said opening the door wider. “Do you need something to eat or drink?” She asked.

“No... had the pizza y’got us,” he murmured finding his way to the couch, he folded the corner of the page where she was reading and set the book on the coffee table. He waited for her to sit beside him and once she did, his head was in her lap. “M’sorry I screamed at you. Y’didn’t deserve that.”

“I knew you didn’t mean it,” she threaded her fingers through his hair and lightly rubbed at his scalp. “Is it all taken care of?”

“Thanks t’you,” he mumbled. She smiled softly, grateful she could ease his anger and allow him to sleep. She didn’t say anything for a bit and soon enough he was asleep in her lap. She reached for her book and read for the better part of an hour while he snored gently into her leg.

When an hour had passed, she gently pulled herself out from his head and began undressing him down to his boxers. It took effort but once he was mostly naked, she tugged him off the couch holding him up as much as she could with his tall frame to drop him into her bed. She curled up to him, grateful for the extra night with him. The first one at her place, at that.

The moon was bright even through the closed blinds, making his skin practically glow as she faced his sleeping figure. His arm beneath her pillow outstretched so she fit neatly beneath his chin if she was close enough. Their legs twisted together, his much longer than hers.

She was quiet for a bit, tracing the sparrows tattooed just below his collarbones. “They stopped talking to me,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite the standard middle of the night, but it was pressing on her mind because it was rapidly approaching the seven-year anniversary of that horrible day and it hurt so freshly, so sharply. Like it was only a week ago. She wasn’t sure Harry was even awake, but she said it anyway...maybe it was better he didn’t hear anyway. “Except for when they had too much to drink. Then they just yelled and yelled. At each other, at me...” she swallowed the pain down. “If I didn’t go out, he wouldn’t have gone to get me. We would still be a family...he was their prince,” she explained.

Her fingers drifted over his arm that rested gently with his hand at her hip. She traced the heart tattoo, the rose, and then the anchor at his wrist. “They stopped caring about me, but I couldn’t stop caring about them. I made dinner for them even if they didn’t always eat. If they did, they complained about it. I stopped eating with them. We didn’t watch movies together on Sunday evenings. We didn’t celebrate Christmas. Part of me thinks they only kept me there because they knew deep down, I was still a minor and they had to—I could ruin their lives worse by reporting them...” she bit her lip. “I don’t even think I would do that... At some point... they were the only people that ever took care of me... but then they just stopped and honestly, I don’t blame them.”

Harry didn’t make any note that he could hear but she kept going anyway. “So, I started taking care of everyone I crossed paths with...” she paused for a moment just to see if anything registered on Harry’s mind. It didn’t seem like it. But it made it easier for her to tell the story.

“When I turned 18, I invited Louis over to help me. I didn’t say with what. But the second he saw my parents...the ones that didn’t love me anymore... Louis moved me into his place... I felt so horrible, but I actually asked him to stay there just until... until I left for university at the end of the summer. He looked... betrayed. Like I let him down... He gave me the lecture of the century and Eleanor just braided my hair while he did. They made my favorite food. Neither of them said Happy Birthday once and I didn’t even care because for even just one day someone was taking care of me again,” she had done well up to this point not crying.

She sniffled and shook her head. She reached up and outlined Harry’s eyebrows, the shape of his nose. The curve of his lips and the jawline that ached her to the core. “Louis doesn’t talk about it, but I know he saw more than I ever wanted him to. I know he resents the way I hid. I think part of him wished I still lived with him. He insisted I stay the summers I came home from university,” she told the sleeping figure.

“But I got a boyfriend part way through university. We moved in quickly. Of course, I took care of him... and I didn’t mind. I liked it. He liked it. He was easy... food, sex, cleaning...” she mumbled. “But I still went to visit my parents because I couldn’t help it. I’ve never told Louis that. I didn’t tell my therapist that either...I’m sure she would be mad. And you know, I still go twice a month without telling anyone. Well, except you now... I don’t know why... I don’t know... I couldn’t leave them...they...they have to be in there still, right? The people that threw me princess birthday parties and put Band-Aids on my knees after a fall on my bike? Even after...after all of it...they’re my parents somewhere in there. Every time I go it’s just...yelling and hating me. I clean, make sure there’s food in the fridge, and then I leave,” Harry didn’t answer her. “I was supposed to stay the night at a hotel because I was supposed to move some of the last of my things...but it was a bad day. I just wanted to go home... I guess I got the sex part right with him,” she said with a smirk but without humor in her voice. “Just...not with me. Guess I didn’t do a good job there either,” she sighed sadly. “So... There it is. They just...acted as if I died too.”

Harry didn’t move a muscle. She smiled softly and kissed his cheek. “I think that’s everything,” she whispered. “I think you know everything now,” she told him. “Good night, baby,” she whispered tucking herself against his chest.

There was no movement for at least a full minute and then his arms came around her so tightly, he squeezed her like he was trying to press all the broken pieces back together. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that,” he pressed his lips to her temple and she closed her eyes tight trying to keep the tears from spilling over like a waterfall. “S’great t’know you,” he squeezed her again. “S’an honor t’know y’care ‘bout me,” he mumbled to her.

She nodded her head in recognition that she had heard him but if she spoke, she would either cry or, worse, tell him she loved him. So, she sighed deeply against his chest and slowly fell asleep while he pressed another kiss to her forehead. Like he was trying to heal her from the outside in just by kissing the front of her tired, sad brain.

Part of her thought that with Harry it might work.

Next Wednesday

Harry was going to lose his mind. When he started the day, he was so excited that he finally had good news for the sweet girl and was excited about their future. He couldn’t wait to surprise her during their movie night the following day, at home snuggled on the comfy couch.

Instead, he was totally blindsided by the fourth of the same type of phone call of that same day.

The call started out the same as all the other ones he’d been getting. They introduced themselves. “Aye, Harry. Zayn. How are you?”

Harry blinked in surprise at the voice at the other end. Zayn was CEO of his own company, located a few towns over called Malik Industries. Rarely did they interact with one another because their clientele was very different. But every so often at big black-tie shin digs and philanthropic events they’d run into one another. In this business, it was all about networking. He was hoping he wouldn’t get this call only because Zayn was closest to his age... which was closer to her age... “Right, good. Yourself?”

“Great. Listen, I’ll make this quick, I know you’re a busy guy. I have an application in front of me and it lists you and Niall as references, and I’m used to seeing Niall’s name... but I had to ask you. You never give your name as a reference.” His heart stopped because he could only guess who the application belonged to.

She applied here too?

“Harry?” He asked. “Did I lose you?”

“Uh...” he shook his head trying to regain his composure. He was absolutely confused. She didn’t say anything about applying to any of these places and this was the fourth phone call he had to sit through with an aching heart. “No, sorry. Untimely email,” he muttered quickly. He wasn’t even facing his computer.

“Right, I understand. I’ll keep it short... you think she would be good here?”

His breath caught in his throat. She would be good anywhere. But the idea of not seeing her smiling face each afternoon carrying tea in her hands to his office (not that she would continue to have to do that if she worked here full time) was the last thing Harry wanted. “Uh...yeah, she...she would be great.”

There was a pause and a short chuckle. “I know you don’t usually do these reference calls, but there’s usually a bit more than that.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat trying to get the words to spill out. How could he tell her she was perfect? How could he just give her away? He wanted her there all the time in every facet of his life. She made everything better. “I know, I know,” Harry shook his head again in an attempt to get his verbal processing to work again. “She’s perfect. She can do anything. Fit in anywhere. If she doesn’t know how t’do something, she’ll figure it out. Brilliant. Truly. It’s cutthroat out there and she still manages t’be an angel. Doesn’t even bat an eye in the face of adversity. She’ll keep morale up by decorating for holidays and she makes the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.”

“See that’s what—”

“You can’t have her,” Harry interrupted flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought she applied because there—”

“Yes. No. I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “She did apply. She would be perfect. You can’t question that. Seriously. Y’would probably hand her the keys t’your office if she joined y’in any capacity. I want t’do that somedays...but I want t’keep her here.”

“I see,” Zayn sounded agreeable. “She sounds quite special. Her recommendations, her transcript, everything is incredible. She seems like a wonderful asset Harry. Are you sure you have room for her?”

He prickled at the notion that he wouldn’t make room for her. “Yes,” he said definitively.

“Alright. Well, good for you. I hope she’s happy there. I’ll take her application any time in the future if you see a reason she needs to go elsewhere.”

Harry didn’t see it happening ever. “Sorry t’disappoint.”

“Not a problem at all. You know a good one when you see them, I get it. Have a good one,” the call ended abruptly. As if on cue, she knocked and opened his door at quarter past the hour. Clockwork. She closed the door quickly.

“Hi baby,” she winked as she whispered the pet name at him. “Brought your tea. And I got us some cake pops. I think they’re yummy. Maybe we could try to make them from scratch this weekend.”

There is no way she could just go. His heart fluttered at her words, and he smiled. He felt the ache in his chest melting away as it always did when she was around while he was upset. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

Harry didn’t tell her about the good news during movie night. He was too upset about all the phone calls.

He didn’t tell her while they were making cake Pops on that Saturday either.

When she chose to just exist that weekend a couple months ago, and not remember anything that happened over her horrible couple of days and not think about her parents, she did catch up with Louis and Eleanor that following Tuesday. Harry watched from her kitchen as the pair of them cooed over her and she let some tears fall.

“Your mum’s not having a memorial,” Eleanor told her. So that was that. It was over.

“Oh,” she said like it was a surprise.

Louis glanced at Eleanor and pursed his lips. She combed her hair back and gave her another hug while Louis pressed his hand to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Louis glanced at Harry and shrugged. Harry thought that meant her mum wasn’t having a memorial that she could attend. It hardened Harry’s heart while he set some mugs of tea on her counter out for the three of them.

The lawyers managed to get some information about her inheritance. The house was already in a trust under her name. “Harry, we’re grasping a bit at straws here. We don’t practice family law,” he reminded him during their next movie night.

“I know, I know. M’sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck while he watched from the kitchen as the girl swayed quietly on the porch swing. At the end of February, she was still insistent on sitting in the freezing cold. “I jus’ want t’make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think this woman cares,” he said bluntly.

Harry frowned and ended the phone call before heading to the swing with mugs of hot chocolate. She lifted the blanket, a beanie hat almost falling into her eyes as he slid in beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder and for the moment Harry just let her live knowing that as long as she stayed here, she was cared for.

Which is why he was so happy when the lawyers finally informed him that she would have the house... eventually. The life insurance policy was never changed out of her name, and it wasn’t like they could change it now. All of it was something that could ease the ache of the worry she had.

Harry attended the memorial service, too, a week or so after that. He told her and Niall he was attending to business out of town. Niall looked at him suspiciously and he felt bad lying to the sweet girl but he...he wanted to...well he didn’t even know what he wanted. He just wanted to know what her parents were like. There were many people there. He was surprised that they still had friends after cutting off their sweet daughter. But Harry was trying his best not to judge their mourning.

He saw Louis and Eleanor there gently consoling her mother without it truly reaching their eyes. Louis saw Harry at the edge of the mourners at the cemetery, he gave him a succinct nod and then tilted his head discreetly to the right.

When everyone left, he headed to where Louis gestured, totally alone.

He read the dates on the stone, did the math, and he sighed. “I’ll do anything for her,” he knelt and pulled some weeds away from the flowers laid there. Quietly to her brother’s grave, he whispered “I promise.”

Monday

Now seemed like it was too late to tell her anything about the good news. She had seemed off all evening. Maybe it was the stress of graduation and her internship. The office had been so busy lately they hardly had a moment to have tea in the afternoon.

It was his own fault, however. When all said and done.

Now, he was walking her home from dinner. Well, actually, he was nearly running after her. She refused to get in the car. Despite how late it was. So, Harry followed her on foot. She was fast, even in the little heels she wore. The driver was close behind on their trail as well.

“I didn’t ask for you to do that!” She snapped at him. She never snapped at him. Not once. And there were plenty of times she could have over the last eight and a half months. But he thought he was being helpful. Figuring out the stuff with her mum, finding a way to finally split Niall’s position. All of it.

He thought things were going so well and even with the end of her internship coming up at the end of the next month, he was so hopeful for their future in so many ways. He didn’t really know what went wrong. He kept the conversation light trying to figure out her slightly soured mood. It didn’t seem completely fair, but he was heartbroken that he made her upset.

But it was the email that was the final straw. She received it in the middle of dinner. Mr. Malik stated there must have been miscommunication as she would be staying with Styles Incorporated. He would love to have her, feel free to apply in the future if so needed, but of course, she should stay where she’s comfortable.

Harry was in mid-conversation with the waiter, ordering dessert. Something she was reallylooking forward to when she read through the email. But the second she finished it she was angry and didn’t want dessert. She called Niall quickly, while Harry was still chatting, holding one finger up as she put her phone to her ear.

He winked at her, continuing his conversation and didn’t mind at all whether she was using her phone nor questioning it. He’d done so many times before and she was always so kind and patient about it. If he did question it, so shortly after the email, maybe he would have seen it coming. But he didn’t...he didn’t see it coming at all. “Did you...talk to Mr. Malik?” She asked him when Niall answered.

“No, darling, I haven’t heard from him or...or anyone yet about your applic—”

“Never mind,” she hung up. The second she uttered the name of another company Harry’s voice died in the conversation he was having, and he directed his attention to her.

“Did you?” She asked, point blank.

“Yes,” he said. “I told him you would be a perfect fit.”

She blinked. “Then why does he think I’m staying at Styles Incorporated?”

Harry frowned. “Don’t you want to?”

She wasn’t going to lie. “I mean...yes...but don’t you think you should have told me you were going to hire me before—”

“I just figured—"

“Harry...I’ve been rejected or ghosted from everywhere I applied to. I’ve been crying to Niall so stressed and anxious that I’m not good enough and—have you been telling everyone in the area?”

“You’ve been crying about—?”

“Harry,” she snapped.

He was surprised by her tone. “Of course...I want t’keep you,” he whispered.

“Well, what if I can’t,” her voice cracked, her hand fiddling with her silverware on the plate.

“What are y’talking about? Of course, y’can,” he said quickly reaching across the table for her hand but she pulled it back. “Kitten.”

“I don’t want dessert,” she said and stood up and marched out of the restaurant. He hurried to throw money on the table and follow after her.

When they made it to her apartment building, she was huffing. She was angry the entire way there not listening to Harry call after her, not stopping even though he begged. Harry felt like he was losing her with every step. When they reached her door, he tried again to console her as best he could. “Love, I just wanted to hel—”

“I know you feel entitled to everything I am and do because of what we are, but I didn’t ask you to do any of that! Stay out of my business.”

“Kitten,” Harry felt crushed, like she stole all the air out of her lungs.

“I know you told Louis and Eleanor about my graduation ceremony, and I let it slide... because part of me is hoping they forget that it’s in two weeks because right now, I don’t want to go. It hurts to think about my brother’s ceremony—the last time we were a family. And I know you had your lawyers talking to my mom because she called me today all up and arms about how I’m selfish to even take what she’s giving me and of course I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. I thought it was a prank,” Harry was silent as he listened. “I know you have your driver follow me around whenever I’m out walking. Not even at night,” still quiet. But he dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. It did sound controlling when she was so angry. “On top of all that, I hadn’t gotten any notice about my student loans so I called my servicer to inquire. And guess what?”

Harry’s lips pressed together. He didn’t say a word. Because of course he already knew why she didn’t get any info about her loans. “Now this? Harry, I’ve worked my butt off to do this on my own and you just...told every company within a twenty-mile radius that I’m staying, and I didn’t even get to know that I could do it on my own? That all my hard work and all those hard things I had to face on my own just meant nothing? I thought I failed so miserably.” She was crying so hard, and she wished she wasn’t but every time she felt anger coursing through her it was an unfortunate consequence. Harry just wanted to console her and make it stop. He felt so terrible.

Every day she showed up to work and made everyone’s life so much easier. She baked brownies for the breakroom, made copies for anyone that asked because she was the only one who could stop it from jamming, and of course she went out every day, snow, sleet, hail, or rain to get himself and Niall their Starbucks order. She took care of him when he was sick and saved such a large chunk of his company, he could never repay her. All he wanted to do was help her the way she helped everyone else.

“Love,” he whispered reaching for her. She stepped out of his way.

“Just go,” she snapped as she slammed the door shut in his face. His heart felt broken, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Because as always, she was right. He just...did everything for her because he could. Really because he wanted to, but he should have at least asked.

He could hear the sniffles and her tears through the door. He waited a minute listening to her gasping breath hoping something in his head would click. Something would appear in his mind that he could say to her. But in times like this, it was usually her that knew what to do. So of course, he couldn’t ask her. As he turned to leave, he heard her croaked voice whispering Louis’ name into the phone.

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ladylaviniya · 7 months ago

Text

Lassoed In Love

|| Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: An investigation turns into a car accident rescue, a cup of coffee, an argument...and heated kisses.

Pairing: Farmer!Clark Kent X Teacher!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, No Sex in this chapter, Slowburn, descriptions of car accident, anger management issues, no sex but lots of kissing, topic of rape being mentioned.

Word Count: 8k

Author Notes: To save me from total writers block I thought I'd share this story. I will repeat. I HAVE NOT ABANDONED MY OTHER STORIES.

Inspiring Song: "Too Sweet" by Hozier

CLARK

Tossing and turning in the blankets, Clark sighed with frustration. His head turned and stared at the empty space on the mattress. He had half the mind to drive to the dump and collect the old one again. But it still smelt like her. That selfish bitch. The mother of his daughter...Lois.

His body yearned for intimacy, aroused for the warmth of a woman. He grabbed himself beneath the sheets and groaned softly. What was he to do? Porn was starting to be an issue. Some nights he felt like a teenage boy covered in acne hiding porn magazines from his mother, only now it was deleting the internet history off the computer he shared with his daughter and hoping he wouldn’t wake her up with the wet squelching.

He sighed clenching his eyes shut. The crickets outside chirped like an obnoxious symphony. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight again. Not with how his thoughts consumed him.

‘Coffee...no...I need a whiskey.’

With a heavy set groan he rose from the covers, naked and larger than life. His muscular body moved with soft cracks down his spine. The icy floor beneath his bare feet was a gracious gift, cooling down his hot blood and calming down his own erection.

Padding to the living room, he crouched low to the liquor cabinet. All the bottles were in different places than he last recalled. He didn’t dwell as he poured himself a drink and sniffed. No smell. He lifted the glass to his lips. Water.

He blinked. Sighed. Couldn’t help the tiny jerk rise to the corner of his lips.

‘Fucking kids.’

Lara and her friends were going to the newest Mission Impossible movie, or at least that’s what he was told. Clearly, they’d snuck into the cabinet at some point and helped themselves to the joyful adult treasures while sneakily topping it off with water.

‘She is grounded. That’s for sure.’

Lara was only sixteen. His sweet pride and joy. She had been through a lot in her young life, a life Clark could only sympathise and try his best to be a good father. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, so he put on the kettle, dragged on a pair of jeans and sat outside on the porch. He gazed out at the road and fields consumed by the growing frost.

The icy air cooled down his body. His nipples grew taunt. The bright white moonlight beamed across the strong lines of his features, his years of hard labour and history in the maps of his crow feet and smile lines. His voluminous black hair with hints of silver through it fell to his shoulders, he would need to start tying it back or cut it short again. His thick pink lips pursed just sitting above his jawline, he was like a blade, sharp and strong.

His veins ran with the blood of two different worlds...but there was a certainty that he would never be able to return to one.

With his strong desire for companionship, he knew himself well. Though he controlled it, there were times when he needed the physical touch of a woman. He often met with Diana Prince, a widowed woman who lived in Cottonwood Falls. Theirs was a purely physical arrangement, with neither interested in marriage. Clark tried to keep their visits infrequent, aware that her gossiping neighbours would be shocked to know she was seeing a man in the middle of the night...a man who had a criminal record, a dark past.

The next day was going to be a Saturday. He would carry out the planned chores and duties on the farm. The upkeep was falling apart and he desperately needed to fix the barn roof hole and retighten the fences and cut the firewood. And in the evening he would ride his truck out to Cotton falls, park and walk the rest of the way to Ms Princes house and extinguish all the fiery rage of his loins inside of her.

He didn’t like riding his truck on the icy roads. He chewed his lips as he glanced down at his erection rising again in his jeans. He needed a woman. God help him.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

YOU

You had your own chores and plans for the Saturday. In particular there was one plan on your list you were desperate to investigate and find a resolution.

Miss Lara Kent

The girl had left highschool prematurely three months ago, a month before you had arrived to take over the role as teacher after Ms Rampling died at the age of eighty four. You had deep shoes to fill. Smallville had quite literally a small school it would seem ranging from kindergarten all the way to year twelve with only four hundred students in total.

Not a single student or teacher had mentioned her name, it was by sheer luck you’d come across her school records. It was rather bizarre that such a successful student to drop out. A straight A student. Nothing in the file indicated a decent reason to why she had left school but it had been approved none the less....the burning passion of your life work was lit a flame.

“Oh Lara?...Lara...oh...Kent...that farmers kid...yea, best be left alone,” said Miss Lana Lang, the eighth grade teacher.

How could you though? Clearly this girls future was in jeopardy if she just left it so suddenly. You needed to understand what was the choice behind this important decision. You recalled being sixteen and feeling so ready for the world only to find even yourself so unprepared when you moved out of home.

You stood in the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea as you stared out your window up at the lonely moon, naked of the wreaths of stars...how could you sleep when this poor girl was making such a bad life choice?...you couldn’t imagine what her parents were thinking.

The cold wind was spreading white fog and frost against the window panels.

You were sure it would probably snow the first day of November at this rate. You rubbed your eyes and shivered. You would need to hire a handy man to fix the heater soon or else you’d freeze to death. It was never so cold in Metropolis city where you were originally from.

You’d moved here only after a month. You felt it was a sign of luck. You were struggling to find another teaching job while juggling to afford your rent....and then one-day you received a call on the phone. Out of some miracle or curse you had a great-great aunt Gwendolyn-Lee and she had a fat inheritance and a whole house left for you, her only surviving heir.

Oh and a ginger cat named Oz. With all the movie posters you had to assume your great aunts favourite film and book was none other than the Wizard of Oz.

He sat stop the old floral print arm chair, staring out the window. He turned his head and meowed wistfully. He kept to the floor and trotted over to you, threading his body around your ankles.

You sighed, “I know Ozzie, your poor bean toes must be getting cold like mine, I might need to see if there’s a pet store in this tiny town. See if they have socks for kitties.”

His meowing reply was lighter as if he had approved of your comment. You crouched to his level and ran your fingers along his orange stripe spine. It hadn’t taken him long to warm up to you. At first, he refused to leave the space beneath the bed in the master bedroom. You wondered how he had survived so long after Gwendolyn passed. You didn’t know who was feeding him. He mewled softly as you began getting dressed.

Despite the wonderful fortune you’d gained, tragedy struck when the moving van forgot to pick up the box with all your clothes.

So naturally you borrowed your dead great aunts hand made, outdated dresses. You’d never met the woman and yet the genetics were clear to be positive considering how you were both the same size.

You went with the white shirtwaist dress with lilac astor flowers embroidered along the edge and collar. You would’ve gone out to the town and bought a new wardrobe...if the shops sold anything that wasn’t still the same style from 1970.

Who were you even trying to impress, yourself? You sighed looking at the mirror. You reached for your flat shoes. ‘No one.’ Your hands ran down the front of your dress. ‘What type of man wants a woman that dresses like a grandma?’ you rolled your eyes.

You scratched Oz behind the ear, his little golden bell jingled away as he kept up onto the mattress and stretched his lithe body.

“I guess you’re the only man in my life to impress Ozzie,” you giggled as he flopped on his side and purred, snuggling his cheek on the patchwork quilt to take a fat cat nap.

Fetching the wool cardigan and car keys off the hook you grabbed the school record file and handbag.

Outside your car waited. You knew you’d have to drive carefully along the road. You prayed the address on Lara’s record was correct.

You pulled out of your driveway and watched as the small town buildings became trees and dead orange leaves. Halloween was just around the corner. Everyone was setting up their decorations, you felt strangely naked with such a bare house. It was on your shopping list to buy candies for the kids in the neighbourhood. You didn’t feel obligated to decorate or participate when you lived in your shitty city unit. But now you lived among families and country locals.

Even though the farm lands were carpeted in brown, red and orange leaves, you were looking forward to the gossip that come spring the lands would be blooming with green lush grass and waves of flowers and forests of apple trees with rushing blue creeks soaring through the valley. Smallville wasn’t very small in the proportion of its farming lands.

As you peered over to look at the map sitting on your passenger seat, you struggled to clearly see the street names.

Above the sound of your engine, you heard the sound of a moo before glancing up back over your hood. A large beast, a black bull the size of a fridge was haphazardly trotting across the road in line of your cat. You slammed the butt of your palm against the car horn before you hit the breaks hard and instant lost control on the loose dirt road. Spinning out, you uttered a prayer the big bull would move in time. You squealed as the tires burned across the trail and fields you crashed against flying dirt smoke and dry leafy grass up. Your body was lunged slightly forward before the car fully stopped and your ass hit the seat hard. You were finally caught in a man dug gutter, the cars nose diving down and the boot hanging up half on the road.

Your chest had been strangled by the seat belt when the loud bang and buff of white slammed up into your face, knocking your head back against your car seat.

Your mouth filled with blood and your face felt like it had been soccer punched. You managed to move your face to the side, sobbing at the feeling of your throbbing nose. Eyes closed in a mixture of fear and disbelief, you felt like you could barely breath, spitting up blood and crying in pain. You were gasping for air, your lungs stung like a million cuts.

You didn’t register the sound of a man’s voice asking if you were alright, nor how he flung open your door and used a pocket blade to slice through your seat belt.

The car hood was clouded in white, billowing out steam like the smoke of a Pompeii volcano.

What you do remember about your saviour was how he had the most bluest eyes that reminded you of the cleanest ponds. His hair was jet black like a crow. You stared up at those features when he curled his arm under your knees and behind your back and shoulders and hauled you out.

Your guardian angel...or the grim reaper carried you away from destruction as your head grew heavy and your eyes rolled like heavy marbles to the back of your skull.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

CLARK

He was riding along and moving his cattle from his main property over to the Nell Potter’s who had lease out her land to him for grazing before all the frost took the sustaining grass. He had watched your car, assuming that a group of cattle with legal crossing signage would have you slowing down....but your speed never changed until Chief was last in line and taking his time to walk across the path.

By some miracle you’d managed to miss the bull but only to twist out of control and crash into the edge of his corn crop before the wheel took you back up and the car slammed into the road gully.

He leaped from his saddle, yelling out to the stranger in the car as he did. He tore the car door open, slamming the bags, struggling to click out your seat belt before succumbing to using his tool knife in his pocket to cut your trapped, weak body out. You were awake, your eyes droopy, but you weren’t responding to his questions.

“What’s your name?” no answer. He tore out the keys from the car, turning the damn thing off before it had the chance to explode or catch fire.

You weren’t answering.

“You alright darlin?”

He swore loudly, shuffling your body from one arm to the other, carrying you back hurriedly down to his house. He managed to whistle his horse back over. It had to be said you were lucky he managed to get off his horse in time before you suffocated against the airbag.

He trusted his cows to stay in the Nell property, grazing on the new grass, too stupid to leave the paddock back onto the road.

Chief had run into that yard the moment your horn blared.

Clark was a strong man yet that did little to change his worries. Racing up the steps of his porch, he kicked open his front door and planted you with care along his sofa lounge.

Clark stared at you with disbelief. How could anyone be out in the bitter cold so poorly dressed? How had you managed to not slow down for such a huge bull? He wondered how you’d almost hit the massive beast instead of slowing down and breaking in time. Thank god the car had swivelled on ice for a quick turn or else he would have a dead Kerry Bull and a female corpse he’d have to talk to the police about, again.

But his anger at your careless driving was eclipsed by his grand concern. You seemed so vulnerable; underdressed and out in the middle of the countryside, if your car flipped Jwho but him or Lara would be here to come save you?

Who the hell were you?

The moment he asked himself however, a sense of recognition flooded him as it became clear who you were. There was no mistaking that you were the new schoolteacher he’d heard so much about in the farm tool supply barn store. With the way you were dressed, it was like staring back at a significantly younger, prettier version of Ms Gwendowlyn-Lee.

That old bag died just around the same time as Ms Rampling died too. And it was to be well known the pair were...special roommates for a time in their youth, but that was just gossip and talk.

He snorted softly. Of course you were hers to replace not one But two ancient Smallville women.

Nonetheless you were severely underdressed for the climate. He hastily moved to the kitchen sink and began running a pot of hot water for you. He paused as he thumbed your front buttons. Your dress was soaked in your own blood. Did you know his history? What if you came to full awakening and saw him looking over your chest and touching that spot...would you start screaming that vile word too?

He huffed annoyed, shaking his head. He got up and returned to the warm water pot. If you didn’t wake up in the next ten minutes, he’d throw you into his truck and speed to the local hospital. Even if it meant he might risk spending a night in jail. God knows the average folk never listened to reason or logic – always jumping to conclusions.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

YOU

It felt like a split second, cut up into spliced moments. You in the car. The bull. The devilishly handsome guardian angel and then waking up on a full purple lounge.

Your eyes fluttered wide open. Your head felt like it computer weighed like a bowling ball. The sensation of nausea took hold of you as you tried sitting up. You decided to give in to your body and laid back down. The room was slightly rocking. You shut your eyes again and sighed before slowly opening them, focusing on breathing and looking around the room.

The room was covered in similar decor as the stuff at your aunt’s home. Old ornamental decorations and wallpaper from the 70s. The dated furniture and lack of television in the living room except there was a and desk in the corner.

Beside you on the coffee table was a folded out box filled with first aid kit items. Bandages, syringes, gauze and disinfection creams.

You were startled to rise a little as the sound of loud foot steps entered the room. An enormous man held a bowl of warm water and a cloth. His face was stern while his brows lifted.

“Oh fuck, he’s huge,” you thought, watching how his hard face twitched in a smirk that appeared and disappeared in a blink. You realised with horror you’d murmured that thought aloud.

He got onto his knees beside you, touching your shoulder lightly and softly guided you back down onto the soft cushions. He wet the towel and gently dabbed at a spot on your forehead. You hissed. It stung. You winced and jerked back, quickly apologising.

“Care to share why you were tryin’ to kill my prize Kerry, Miss?” you heard him mutter. Your mouth dropped at hearing how deep, rich and sensual his voice was. You never had heard such a pronoun southern drawl sound so seductive.

He washed the dirt front your face lightly, he let he droplets wash away the marks.

You warmed, feeling butterflies in your belly as you tried to mentally find your bearings, “Wh-what? Could you repeat that sir?”

His brows lifted again, this time a firm frown was on his face, “Miss, you were in an automobile accident, are your brakes broken or are you just a bad driver?”

That’s when the black bull came back to your mind once more. You swallowed, your mouth was dry.

“I didn’t-,” you stammered and shook your head, “I wasn’t trying to hit it.”

He snorted with a hint of disbelief.

You curled in your lips, your eyes skated over the home again. You were almost at the Kent property according to the map address. You would’ve gotten there if it wasn’t for his dumb stupid bull.

You licked your bottom lip timidly, “I’m Y/N Y/F/N, I’m a schooltea-.”

“I know,” he said sharply.

Your eyes widened, “You know?”

“I know,” he repeated. You felt a discomfort in his responses even when his voice sounded like deep warm honey over buttered toast. Maybe his toast was burnt black in way.

You lightly nibbled your bottom lip and dared to ask, “Are...are you Mr. Kent? Sir?”

His ocean blue eyes darkened to the pitch of the night sky, his rosy lips peeled back, showing his white teeth in a tight grimace, “I’m Clark Kent.”

Oh.

You cleared your throat, “You’re Clark Kent?”

“I’m Clark Kent,” he repeated, again.

Granting him a small tight smile you then asked, “So you’re a farmer?”

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

CLARK

When you spoke so easily to him, it caught him off guard. Had no one warned you about him? Had the rumours not gotten to your darling ears? When you raised your brows in that inquisitive manner, it only added fuel to his frustration.

“Yeah, dairy and maize,” he grunted.

The delicate curves of your face and those sweet eyes had a curious effect on him; it set his teeth on edge. He was not going to hurt you, but he could if he wanted. That primness about you irritated him to no end. His first instinct – to shock you out of your prudishness – scare you into fearing him, make you see the monster everyone but his daughter called him. Your beautiful eyes were so innocent; it was frustrating that you couldn’t see how vulnerable of a situation you were in. There was something so twisted in his mind that even he was surprised by the urge to protect you from himself.

He tore open a packet of povidone-iodine and cupped your cheek and held the curve of your jaw, “Best hold still,” he warned, his eyes bore into yours, “This goin’ sting now.”

He pinched the wipe and ran it over your forehead. Clark had been focused on cleaning the cut but his gaze flickered up at the pitched whine you made, right into your wide teary eyes. The whimper that came from your lips had the air sucking out of his lungs. What a delicious noise. Your eyes right then were his new favourite colour, he decided. Your delectable lips had turned into an ungodly knot as they quivered in pain. And they were just inches away from his and the unfortunate desire to kiss them flashed in his mind.

He ran a thumb over one of your wet cheeks,

He wondered if your skin was just as soft and sensitive all over...your breasts, your belly, your thighs...the petals between your legs. Your body trembled under him. And the brief thought of making you tremble naked made his loins stir beneath his jeans. Holy fuck.

You’d just met him and made yourself a nuisance but the thought of kissing you sent an overwhelming surge of desire through his body. It was like an electric shock to his entire system. As he drew nearer, he noticed that you smelled exquisite. Your scent was tantalizing and all he could think of was how much he wanted to taste it. The urge to kiss you was nearly unbearable. But you would probably squeal and run out the door if he lifted your dress the way he wanted to and buried his face against your silky thighs to inhale the honey of your cunt.

He launched fast up onto his feet and walked away.

“I ugh, I’m makin’ coffee,” He marched back to the kitchen and turned on the pot for some coffee. No...he needed whiskey. Fucking damn it Lara.

He splashed cold water from the sink into his face. What the fuck was wrong with him.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

You

You sat in quiet solitude as he took his time making coffee.

After five minutes of staring up at the garden wallpaper on the ceiling, you heard his foot steps return back to the living room.

You decided that Clark Kent was in fact not a social person and holding a conversation would deem a challenge. But you were stubborn. You came here for a reason and his lack of small talk would not dissuade your mission. In fact, it gave you the opportunity to study his character.

He sipped his cup and cleaned up some more scratches on your face. Very carefully he began peeling band aids apart and applying them to your face. You smiled at some still in the first aid kit. They were children’s bandaids, yellow and printed with ducklings, cute and probably many years old. You couldn’t imagine a sixteen year old girl being caught dead wearing duckling bandaids.

You had hoped to compare him to Lara and perhaps even her mother to see why and what behaviour the girl held. When he leant over you, you studied his expression, hoping to find some clue as to his thoughts. But his face was unreadable; you couldn’t discern a single emotion within his eyes. Without even the slightest word, he pinched your embroidered collar to get your attention.

You licked your lips, unaware of how your tongue movement had captured his attention. You wanted to say something, but were at a loss for words. His physical proximity had utterly paralysed your thought processes. You felt completely overwhelmed by the sensation of his presence and the sight of his face. You were struggling to find a thought or a word that could accurately describe how much he stirred your senses.

He’s so big...God...help me.

You should have maintained your composure and remembered why you had come here, instead of acting like a foolish girl because an attractive man was standing too close to you. You were frustrated with yourself for allowing yourself to be so swept away by his good looks, rough appearance, and masculine presence. You tried to remind yourself that his physicality wasn’t the point of your presence here but it failed to have any impact. Your body simply reacted with desire and longing to the nearness of his person.

You cleared your throat for the thousandth time to ask, “Ah… I have come to speak with Lara Kent, if I may?” as if you hadn’t just crashed your car and almost killed one of his cattle.

You cast your eyes over to the man in front of you. His face seemed expressionless as he stared back at you, but there was something in his eyes – a hint of suspicion, scepticism. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

“Lara ain’t here. She’s doin’ her chores out in the paddocks. Probably got her walkman on a higher volume, she didn’t hear your car destroying some of the crop or else she’d have been here by your side like you were some helpless duckling.”

A tiny smile came onto his face at those last few words before it melt back into his set frown.

“I see....sorry about the...corn,” You hummed sheepishly, “And...when might she return inside?”

He sighed, scratching lightly at the corner of his brow, he glanced over across the room at a grandfather clock beside the fireplace, “She should be back any time now....”

You looked at him disbelievingly, your eyes locked on his. You couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more to this man than just being a farmer. “Are you Lara’s father?” you finally asked.

“Yes,” he replied in a clipped yet measured tone.

“And where is her mother?”

There was no denying he was a man of few words, and yet somehow, he managed to convey much more than what was spoken.

His eyes shifted to the fireplace. You followed his gaze. There was a beautiful enclosed vase on the mantle...wait, no-

“Dead.”

-an urn.

Something about that flat, solitary word jolted you, a mix of surprise and discomfort. Yet alongside the shock, there was also a faint sense of relief. Slowly you sat up and with a quick glance away, you stared out the window just beside the sofa. You focused your eyes on the dead and disfigured front garden, dotted with weeds and looking more like a barren wasteland than a place of joy and life.

Clark began packing up the first aid kit. He left to put it away.

Further out you could see your car, the front bumper crushed and totally ruined. Shit. You’d be doing a lot more walking and catching the bus.

When he returned, in his hand was a cup of water and a small bucket.

“It’s salt water, to clean your mouth of the blood.”

You gratefully accepted the water, swishing the foul liquid in your mouth. You spit into the bucket. There was still a stillness in the air that felt like a heavy weight, weighing on you as you breathed in the cool air. You faced him again, hands in your lap now, touching your feet to his floor.

You dared to ask, “And how did you feel about Lara quitting school?”

He shrugged in a nonchalant manner, “It was her choice.”

He was turning to go back to the kitchen.

A palpable and intense feeling of indignation and exasperation mingled together, acting as a powerful driving force, you got to your feet and started to follow him, “But she’s only sixteen! She’s just a young girl—”

You managed to follow him into his kitchen, old vinyl flooring and wooden benches with a deep copper sink. He slammed the bucket and cup into the sink and spun on his heel.

“She’s my daughter,” Clark interrupted, holding his finger up, “and she can read, write, practices arithmetic better than anyone I know in this hick-town. My Lara also knows everythin’ there is to know about livestock and runnin’ a dairy farm.”

The man’s voice held a hint of pride, though even that couldn’t mask the hint of resentment that still showed through. “This is my land, my dairy farm, my house,” he continued. “One day it will all belong to her. She decided what to do with her life, and she decided to harvest and produce milk to the entire county.”

Clark was blushing, hints of his frustration were spitting out. He wasn’t fond of sharing his or his child’s life story, considering all the prejudice they faced all these years. Except, there was something about you, this huffy, and prissy little teacher that made him answer.

You seemed oblivious to the rumours about his past; or else why would you be mouthing off so brazenly without bringing it up... you evidently knew nothing about what made him who he truly was, about the impact of his name on the town of Smallville. You didn’t know how often it was people turned away and ignored him just to avoid associating with him...you didn’t know how much it affected Lara too.

He swallowed loudly, “Now, all that bein’ said, she chose to leave that sorry excuse of a school,” he tongued his inner cheek, trying his best not to curse. He groaned, his knuckles turned white as he gripped his own flannel. It was like white smoke was pouring from his ears and shooting out his nose as he forced himself to take deep breaths.

“And, who the fu-...who are you or I to tell her what she can or can not do?” He licked his teeth, “I’d love to see your smart ass out in the dairy shed and see how much you mess it up, I’ll wager it’s like your driving.”

You bravely jerked your chin up with your hands coming to sit on your hips.

Oh Fuck, he wanted to kiss you

And unbeknownst to him, you would’ve let him. Something about how much he was pissing you off and getting heated made you excited, scared...aroused. Facing the beast in the car was not as scary as facing this beast on your feet.

“I’d like to talk to her anyway,” You said stubbornly.

His brows connected, he licked the bottom of his lip, glancing down at yours, “That’s up to Lara. She might not want to talk to you. Especially if you’re here to ask her to return to that school.”

He leant away from you briefly to turn the coffee pot on to boil.

The hands on your hips cross over your chest, You scoffed, “Right, then you won’t even try to encourage her to graduate from the highschool then?”

That was it. He paused. He smirked, he chuckled mockingly and shook his head at you, “Nope.”

“Why not?” Your foot almost stamped, “She’s a bright girl, she should at least have the option of going to college!”

Clark stepped closer, towering over you, his nose nearly touching yours as you glared up at those dark blue eyes, “You listen here,” the air from his nose was hot against your face, “She’s sixteen, don’t you understand what that means ‘round these parts?” He snorted rolling his eyes, “Hell, how can you? You’re just some uppity, conceited, self-centered upstart.” He then scoffed. “She’s not welcome in that school. That was made very clear. When she wasn’t being neglected she was being bullied. Why the fuck would she want to go back?”

You felt a chill run down your spine as he edged closer, his words sharp and venomous. You bared your teeth in a grimace, frightened by his aggressive manner. You weren’t used to men invading your personal space, shouting curses in your face. As a young girl, boys had turned a blind eye to the shy, bookish girl. Now, as a grown woman, men still showed scarce interest in you.

You were utterly unwavering in your beliefs about education and refused to let him frighten you into submission. Bigger people often used their size to intimidate smaller ones, oftentimes not even realizing the effects of their actions. However, you weren’t going to bow down simply because he was more robust than you. Your beliefs were far too important to sacrifice for someone as boorish as him.

“She was at the top of her class given her KAP results, top in the five percent in Kansas for girls in her age group.” you said briskly. “If Lara could beat that top, think of what she could accomplish with help! She could get a scholarship, become something greater than a dairy farmer, or is having a doctor for a daughter beneath a redneck like you?”

He fluttered his eyes shut. There it was. That disdain he was used to. Little did you know...he was fighting his arousal his erection and the urge to put you on your hands and knees on that kitchen floor. If you wanted to call him a redneck, he’d fuck you like one...dirty and unprotected.

The silence was beyond pregnant until his throat bobbed, “Like I said, it’s up to Lara.”

The scent of freshly-brewed coffee filled the kitchen, but neither of you spoke as the minutes ticked by and the silence stretched on. He backed away and poured two cups of coffee. He poured fresh milk into the cups, real cow cream. He leaned against the cupboards and watched you sip from your porcelain mug, taking in the delicate sight. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, thinking back on what you’d just called him after he saved you from your car.

Redneck...

How could he be so kind in the face of your rudeness?

“Sorry...I didn’t means to call you a redneck...”

He smiled, this time it was filled with cheek, “Oh, yes you did...but I ain’t no soft Lily. Trust me, I’ve been called worse. You think I can’t handle when some hoity toity teacher goes an calls me a redneck?”

You returned the smile shyly. Looking down at your chest, you pinched the fabric. The front was blazing bright red.

He stepped closer and carefully reached out, pinching your shirt, he said with a calm and steady tone, “Yea that’ll probably stain without a good soak.”

You pinched your nose, “It was my aunt’s, I think it’s vintage.”

Clark set his cup aside and jerked his head to the side.

“I reckon I got something for you to wear. You can keep it and soak the dress in the laundry. Lara can talk to you about this mess and I’ll scrub the blood out.”

For a man so stubbornly spoken, he had been remarkably hospitable to you.

As you glanced up at him, the intensity of his dark blue eyes caught your attention. Something about his gaze made you feel unsure of yourself, your heart racing and a slight feeling of unease growing within you. It was as if he were peering directly at your breasts with a hungry look in his eyes. The thought made you feel warm with embarrassment and your breath caught slightly in your throat.

“I think some of my wife’s old clothes will fit you,” he said letting go of your shirt.

His dead wife? Oh god...

“Oh, I don’t need any clothes. I mean, what I have on is perfectly—”

“Stained,” he interrupted. “You really want to be going back to town looking like that? People might think I’ve gone and bashed you....”

You looked down.

“or raped you.”

Your eyes snapped back up. You didn’t know why he jumped to such a salaciously coarse word.

He murmured, “Come with me, then.”

You followed him down through the hallway of his farm house.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“To the bedroom.”

You stopped, blinking at him, he turned to face you with a bitter smile twisted his mouth.

“Don’t worry,” he said crudely. “It’s Saturday. I only rape on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

Your eyes blinked again.

“What’s wrong with Saturdays?” those words slid past your lips without any warning, leaving you dumbstruck when you realized what you’d done. You clapped your hands over your face, mortified that you’d accidentally insinuated the possibility of him committing such a heinous act and not just that but almost questioned his intentions towards you in that department. Heat surged into your cheeks as a flood of embarrassment washed over you. Your brain must have short-circuited; there was no other explanation for the idiocy.

Clark was taken aback by your words, the stunned expression on your face making it clear that you had no intention to say them. It had been ages since he’d seen anyone look so horrified, and it took him a moment to realize that you were acutely embarrassed. You were certainly something of a prude, he concluded, with your dowdy appearance and old-maidish manner. So much so that your slip of the tongue was probably the biggest entertainment he’d had in a while. He couldn’t help but grin as his irritation softened again. Yes, this was definitely a highlight for him.

“Not a damn thing Miss Y/L/N,” he chuckled.

You drew yourself up to your full height, your lips firmly pressed together in a rigid expression. “Please do not make fun of me, Mr Kent,” you stated clearly, though it took a great deal of effort to keep your tone even. His sarcastic comment only served to salt the wound you already knew existed. You knew you fell short in the seductive department, but you didn’t need sarcastic reminders to confirm it.

Clark’s straight black brows drew together over his strong nose, “Make fun of you? What? How?”

You sulked sourly, “I am fully aware of how I look. I know I am not the most stunning woman. But surely...” you paused, your eyes shut, “Am I that ugly to look at?”

The choking noise was loud. He was rather gobsmacked. Did you really just say that to him?

His heart was still pounding from when she had whimpered, a lingering throbbing in his loins reminded him that his reaction hadn’t completely subsided. He chuckled bitterly, the sound devoid of humour, his mind playing over again and again what had happened between them. Why not spice up your life a little more?

“Now, don’t play this game with me Missy,” he said

But the way you avoided his eyes.

“Shit. You’re serious? Come on now girl, you gotta know. You damn well know you’re a wet dream...you’re a real head turner. Make men like me all hot and bothered.”

“Hot and bothered, by what?” she asked blankly. It was impossible. She had never made a man… aroused a man in her life.

Heat had been simmering just beneath the surface for too long, and the irritation he felt in the presence of this prim woman was like a spark to a fuse. His iron control had kept him in check when dealing with the townspeople, but something about her, this prim woman, got under his skin. Frustration filled him to the point that he thought he might explode, the tension and desire rising to a pitch that was almost unbearable.

His intentions had originally been to stay far away from you, but now he found himself pulled close by a force he could not resist. Hands gripping your waist, he pulled you closer until you were pressed against him. His mouth came down on yours, covering it in a hard kiss. “Maybe you need a to be shown,” he murmured, his words coming out in deep and breathless. It made the moment even more intense, his desire for you growing with each passing second. He couldn’t keep himself from kissing you again, his lips exploring yours in a passionate, urgent way that left you feeling completely powerless.

You froze as he gently and passionately moved his lips over yours. You couldn’t take your eyes off his long, thick eyelashes, how they brushed your skin. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you firmly against his muscled body, causing you to let out a deep gasp.

As soon as your lips opened, he took the opportunity to probe inside with his tongue as if he couldn’t get enough. You trembled, feeling a strange heat deep inside, growing more and more intense. The pleasure became so strong and powerful that it frightened you, not knowing where this might lead. If only you’d known to buy some lingerie this morning before you left to the Kent property....

There was something powerful about the way his lips felt, their firmness bringing you to a state of ecstasy. You could taste his heady flavor, and his tongue was caressing yours with an intensity that invited you to play. But beyond this physical sensation, there was a warm and musky scent drifting from his body. Your breasts pressed up against the taut muscles of his torso, causing the tips of your nipples to tingle in an exciting yet embarrassing manner.

You opened your eyes in sharp disappointment when he pulled away from you. But his intense black gaze was unwavering, like he wasn’t finished with you yet. “Come on girl, kiss me back yes?” he breathlessly pleaded, his tone suggesting he was far from satisfied.

“I don’t know how,” You confessed, still bewildered to what he had just done to you...and you enjoying it.

His eyes fluttered, “Here, I’ll teach you,” his nose nuzzled yours.

He pressed his lips against yours again, and this time you parted your mouth to accept his education. He explored your mouth and demonstrated a pressured patterned that you began mimicking and returning to him. His kisses this became further demanding, filled with panting.

You suddenly felt a frightening excitement explode through your body, growing beyond simple pleasure and transforming into a ravenous hunger. The sensations coursing through you were no longer merely pleasant but overpowering, your heart racing wildly as it hammered against your ribs. The heat within you was unbearable, an intense blaze spreading through you, leaving you panting and aching for more.

Looking into his eyes, you realized that he had felt the same burning desire that was overtaking you now. You were stunned by the revelation, and it made you feel even hotter. You uttered a soft, unconscious sound as you moved closer to his body, unable to control the sensations he had unleashed inside of you. The yearning was unbearable, and you wanted more of him, his experienced touches making the sensations overwhelming and irresistible.

You had never believed it could be like this, such an intense and overwhelming desire. You had been told that some men could be crude and cruel, but those warnings had never prepared you for the intense sensation of burning desire. You had always made the sensible choice to avoid flirting or attempting to attract a boyfriend, yet, here you were, wanting a man to do those very things to you.

The men you had encountered during your time at college and in the workplace had appeared to be normal, not lecherous sex fiends. You felt comfortable around men, and even considered a few of them to be good friends. But you did not consider yourself attractive, or at least, not enough to attract the opposite sex’s attention.

Men had never scrambled to get dates with you or even managed to acquire your phone number. As a result, you hadn’t been exposed to the intense sensations of a man’s embrace and touches, nor the throbbing sensation of his manhood pressing against your thighs. You hadn’t realized how much more you needed, the feeling of his hands roaming your body awakening a hungry desire that grew within you with every touch.

You instinctively locked your arms around his neck and moved your body against his, feeling the waves of frustration and desire increasing within you. The desire was a blaze consuming your body, empty and aching, hungry for more. The new sensations were a flood, your mind overwhelmed by the feeling of your nerves being assaulted. You didn’t know how to control it, the tidal wave of sensation growing with each movement made against him.

Clark jerked his head back, his teeth locked as he relentlessly brought himself back under control. Black fire burned in his eyes as he looked down at you. His kisses had made your soft lips swollen. Your eyes were heavy-lidded as you opened them and slowly met his gaze.

The desire was plain on your face, a look that suggested he had done more than kiss you. You already looked dishevelled, as if he had taken you in his arms and claimed you. In his mind, he had. He wondered how pretty you would look with a ball gag between your teeth. Despite your delicate appearance, you had moved against him with a voracious hunger, your body moving and seeking more.

He knew with the state of your mind, he could take you to bed right now. You were desperate for him, hot past the point of reason. And yet...he decided that it would be best if he would wait for you to make the conscious decision to be with him. Your inexperience was clear, and he’d even had to teach you how to kiss. The thought was suddenly cut off when he realized just how inexperienced you were. You were a virgin, and it was not fair for him to take that without your full consent.

The notion left him dumbfounded. It didn’t seem possible that you could be so innocent, yet there you were, gazing up at him with eyes that were both innocent and full of desire. Your body was pressed tightly to his, your arms locked around his neck, and your legs slightly opened to let him nestle against you. You were waiting for the next move, as you did not know what else to do. Before him you had never even been kissed. No man had touched your soft breasts or your tender nipples. No man had ever shared his love with you.

He swallowed the rock in his throat that threatened to choke him, his eyes still locked with yours. “Alrighty now, missy, that almost took a dangerous turn.”

You jerked away a little, your eyes fluttered, “oh, really?...”

Slowly, because he didn’t want to drop you, feeling how much your knees might collapse under you, he let you slide down to find your feet. Your sweetness would be the death of him...figuratively and literally if you tried to accuse him of something wayward. He was a fiend, a criminal, a man charged with possibly one of the worst crimes known to man. And you were the new miss innocent school teacher coming to talk to him about Lara only for it to almost become a shit show of either moans or wailing squeals.

You should never have come her. The people of Smallville had a knack for gossiping. Lord knows you’d find out the truth eventually and then you’d never want to associate with him again...

So he released you, despite the overwhelming desire to drag you onto his bed and educate you to all there was to pleasuring a man and yourself. Still wrapped around him like a human scarf were your soft arms. Your fingers had tangled up into his dark raven mane. You almost appeared unable to let him go, drunk on new founded lust. He reached up to take your hands and move your arms away from his body entirely.

The softest sound of disappointment left your wet lips...was he rejecting you now? Had you done something wrong...

Your eyes looked up at him in a desperate plea to continue...but his eyes were staring away and over your shoulder.

“I guess I’ll come back later then?” Came a new, young and feminine voice interrupting your blood rushing thoughts.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#Spotify

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studteaousdocumentations · 3 months ago

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My local library gives away donated books (and CDs and magazines) every first Saturday of the month. $2 for every bag you jam full of books.

- ◈ -

◇ Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories Vol. 1

- I got this one because (1) it's Sherlock Holmes and (2) one of my younger friends got me into Sherlock.

◇ Frankenstein

- My Senior english class read Into the Wild instead of Frankenstein, but my friends in other classes really liked it.

◇ The Picture of Dorian Gray

- rec from a friend. I also want to eventually read Maurice and The Talented Mr. Ripley.

◇ The Library of Greek Mythology

- its greek mythos

◇ ZYZZYVA: Vol. XXV11 NO. 93 Winter 2011

- my favorite part of english class was reading random short stories so...

◇ Ella Fitzgerald sings: the Rodgers and Hart Song Book

- her voice is angelic.

◇ Ells Fitzgerald: Ella at juan-les-pins

◇ The World of the Symphony

- I like listening to classical music while I drive.

◆ Best American Short Stories 2006

◆ Caraval

- who doesn't love a good YA novel?

- ◈ -

2 books from the gift shop for $1.50 and 5 books + 14 CDs for $2.00, all for a whopping total of $3.50.

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ladyjaneasherr · 2 months ago

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New!!

February 21st, 1967. Beautiful Jane Asher in Fifth Avenue, New York, February 21st 1967. Asher was on tour with the Bristol Old Vic Theatre.

Picture 1 and picture 2 ( a new release plus my colourisation) and picture 3: 📸Harry Benson/Daily Express/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.

Picture 4 to 8 Date Book magazine scans from my lovely friend Vio that has allowed me to use! July 1967 issue.

Jane’s here!

DATEBOOK MAKES THE NEW YORK SCENE WITH JANE ASHER. Braving New York's traffic.

The girlfriend of an old friend of ours came to town recently and we showed her a bit of the Big City. When Jane Asher was performing with the Bristol Old Vic in New York, we lunched with her and took her to a pop-art dinner party on her last night in town.

When we picked her up for lunch she was wearing a bulky, horizontal-striped fur coat she had bought the day before. "Red fox?" we asked. "That's what you're supposed to think,"she said. "But it's really opossum!"*

We had lunch in the Italian restaurant in the hotel (Gorham) in which she stayed—it was across the street from the theater. We talked about everything-her acting plans (to do Shaw's "Arms And The Man" when she got back to London), Paul's plans (to write and direct a movie in which she will star—a short experimental film, that is), Paul (she'd just had a letter from him in which he told her that he'd had the whole London Symphony improvising), her refusal to sign up for more than one movie , at a time ("no long-term contracts for me"'), her interest in pop art ("I'm really fascinated by artists like Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol. My brother Peter has a gallery, in London, you know.") We chatted away about New York she think's she loves it, but it will take more time to be certain), George and Patti (she wonders if they'll some day go to live permanently in India), Beatle fans at her performances ("It's so marvelous to see them react to Romeo and Juliet as if it were a contemporary story. Many really don't know how it all ends and they sob and laugh so naturally.")

Jane talked about Paul unseltconsciously when his name came up naturally in the conversation— and it did now and then since we discussed pop music and all the personalities in it. But, the subject of her relationship with Paul did not come up. And we decided not to bring it up since it was obviously a personal matter which she felt was not in order.

(Jane said a New York newspaper interviewed her and then made up a quote "Paul is not exactly my Romeo'' and used it as the headline, although it had nothing at all to do with the interview.)

What's Jane Asher really like?

She's much more beautiful than her pictures would lead you to expect. Her hair is a marvelous orange-red and her skin a milky white. She has delicate features and a lovely Puckish grin which breaks into a wide smile very often. She's shy-but she knows exactly what she wants and is strong enough to fight for it.

Jane was very eager to meet some of the top pop artists and we invited her to a gallery opening, party and dinner the following Saturday night.

She accepted and a few nights later, bedecked in her red minidress, her red coat and her red hair, she made the artscene with us. Jane impressed everybody with her glowing beauty, her quiet intelligence, her gentle humor and her real interest in the world around her.

By this time, we knew for sure why our London friend was so involved with her!

When we said goodbye back at her hotel, we wished her a pleasant tour (she was to leave the next day) and we asked her to give our regards to Paul. She told us to be sure to look her up in London next time we were there.

Gentle Jane waved goodbye to us as the elevator doors closed. Her next stop was to be California and then Denver, where a big surprise would be awaiting her. Turn page for the big surprise.

#jane asher #the beatles #60s #beatles girls #actress #lady jane asher #something about jane asher #model #beatles women #redhead #red hair #1967 #beatles girl #explore page

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welcome-to-the-nunyverse · 10 months ago

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Symphonies & Stories on Saturdays!

Where I take songs I heavily relate to GAC and discuss it.

This week’s song: Machine Learning by J. Maya!

A song about feeling programmed wrong, somehow. Growing up not particularly fitting in. And, as a result, having to try really hard to actually conform to what people around you want.

And this relates a lot to the backstory of Charlotte Clarke.

[ID Start

Image 1: Cropped digital drawing of my character, Charlotte - a 13-year-old with black skin, brown eyes, brown curly hair braided into cornrows leading up to puffs with different colored ends (red tips on viewer's left and blue tips on viewer's right), and thin body. she wears a magenta hoodie with a white outline of a butterfly. She grins and talks to someone off-screen.

Image 2: Digital drawing. In the forefront, Charlotte rests on a tree, back turned to the audience. She wears a light green sweater with light jeans & light green boots. She stares off at a school campus past a green field. In dark yellow lettering is the words "Maybe I'm just not friend material..."

ID End]

Like the Espositos, Charlotte has a gift and a curse. Unlike the Espositos, Charlotte actually interacted with society growing up. She mingled with normal people, and she did not fit in with them. From her curse to her unnaturally colored ends to her own personality quirks—she was an outcast. And she does not know how to “fix” herself to fit in better.

She grew up bullied and ostracized because of it, a social pariah.

And this relates a lot to this song! With lyrics such as the intro:

Don’t stare at them for too long

Laugh some, but not too much

And sing the words to that song

But only the chorus

If someone says they want you

Don't flinch, just let them touch

It doesn't really matter what you want

And bridges such as:

Make social calculations

Know when you're supposed to cry

Fake real communication

Rehearse your scripted lines

Is living a performance?

Depends how it's defined

Forget that all your friends don't have to try

And:

Be just what they expected

Don't come as a surprise

They might take you for granted

That's just a part of life

If you stick with the program

Maybe one day you'll be

More than a machine learning how to please

They’re lyrics that showcase programming to adhere to what people want, to fit in with the majority. Charlotte, her whole life, tries to adhere to the norm around her, because she hates this bubble of loneliness she has around herself. The problem is, however, that all these rules are hard for her. It’s less like she’s actually interacting with the world, but following a script in a play that everyone else seems to already know the lines for, while she just got them.

And then there’s the general chorus:

I know you wanna be yourself

Like everyone else

But you've always needed help

Memorize the manual

You're hopeless on your own

If you make it look natural

Then nobody will know

The story of the robot

Who knows they'll never be

More than a machine learning how to please

This just reiterates the point of her attempting to fit in. Throughout her elementary and middle school career, she has been inflicted with harsh treatment by her peers and teachers. She’s always punished by teachers for things outside of her control, bullied by her peers for those same things, and finally in 7th grade absolutely humiliated for it.

She tries so hard to prove her humanity to people that already put a label on her of what she is. She wants so badly to have a human connection with someone.

And that’s when the closing for the song comes in, where it’s a softer & slightly different version of the chorus beforehand:

Just memorize the manual

You're hopeless on your own

If you make it look natural

Then nobody will know

The story of the robot

Who had a secret dream

To be more than a machine, more than a machine

To this, I imagine it’s that beginning part of book 1 of Gifted and Cursed, the meeting scene of Wolfgang and Charlotte from Charlotte’s POV. Where she sees a chance of human connection with the new boy at school, someone who has no pre-existing opinion of her. It’s a new opportunity of what she’s always wanted: where she can prove her humanity to at least one person.

And that’s it for this analysis! See ya next Saturday :3

#nuny’s scribbles #gac #gifted and cursed #g&c #nunyverse #charlotte clarke #symphonies & stories on Saturdays #oc #original character #writing #writblr #writing community

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lynetianya · 1 year ago

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Muscles and Love [ Karina X Reader ]

Karina had always been enamored with your physique. She couldn't help but adore every your sculpted curve and bulge, and she didn't hesitate to show her affection for those muscles in various delightful ways.

GENRE : Fluff

TYPE : One Shot, All Gender

It was a lazy Saturday morning, and the sun spilled gently into their cozy apartment. Karina lay beside you, her head resting on your chest as you both basked in the warmth of the sun and the comfort of each other's presence. Your arm was draped protectively over her, and she couldn't help but trace her fingers along the defined contours of your chest.

She looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "You know, I really love your muscles," she said playfully.

You chuckled, your fingers gently running through her hair. "I know you do."

She snuggled closer, her cheek pressed against your chest. "I mean it, though. Your muscles are amazing. They make me feel so safe and loved."

You smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad to hear that, babe."

Karina couldn't resist her playful side any longer. With a grin, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss on your bicep. "I can't help it, but I'm obsessed with your biceps," she admitted with a playful gleam in her eye.

You chuckled, flexing your arm a little just to see her reaction. "Well, I'm glad you like them."

Her playful mood continued as she leaned in and gave your other bicep a teasing nibble. "They're just so meaty," she said with a laugh, "I can't resist."

Your laughter filled the room, and you pulled her into a warm embrace. "You're adorable, you know that?"

As their relationship continued to flourish, Karina's love for your muscles only grew stronger. She not only admired them but also took a keen interest in your overall well-being. She made sure you were eating well and not subjecting yourself to any extreme diets.

One day, she decided to surprise you by turning a spare room in their apartment into a mini home gym. She figured that if you could work out at home, it would reduce the chances of other women at the gym stealing glances at you. The room was now filled with various gym equipment, from weights to a treadmill.

When you walked in and saw the surprise, your eyes widened in astonishment. "Karina, this is amazing! You did all this for me?"

She nodded with a proud smile. "Of course! I want you to have a comfortable place to work out without any distractions."

You pulled her into a tight hug, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "You're the best, Karina."

At the end of each day, after work and workouts, you and Karina would cuddle up together. She loved feeling close to you, and you loved the warmth of her body against yours. You'd often find yourselves wrapped in each other's arms, faces inches apart as you shared stories from your day.

Karina's hands would often find their way inside your shirt, her fingers gently caressing your body. It was an intimate gesture that made you feel cherished and loved. Her touch was tender, a silent reminder of the deep connection you shared.

As you lay there, your fingers entwined with hers, you couldn't help but marvel at the love you shared. It was a love that celebrated each other's quirks and passions, whether it was your muscles or Karina's playful nature. Together, you had found a love that was truly special—one that was built on understanding, acceptance, and an abundance of affection.

In the quiet moments of their life together, you and Karina cherished each other's presence and celebrated the unique aspects of your relationship. Your love was like a well-tuned symphony, with each note and gesture contributing to the beautiful melody of your love story. Muscles were just one part of the composition, but they were a delightful and cherished part that brought joy and laughter into their lives.

END

My Masterlist

#aespa karina #karina aespa #aespa oneshot #karina #karina x reader #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #oneshot #karina oneshot #aespa fanfic #karina fluff

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coffee-or-hot-cocoa · 2 years ago

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Songs I listen to about Skittlescript’s Isekai’ed to the West and Triad au Playlist

hahaha lol checkout @skittlescripts’s isekai to the west au, here’s some songs that remind me of the au and some scenarios imagined would make the daydreams better, special thanks to the works of @semisolidmind, @rennsdeaddoves, @thesexydancingcrepe, @rainyriu, @ritzhasmonkeybrain and @theweepingegg

this is for the Sun WuKong and Six-Eared Macaque simps out there

problem - ariana grande - reader starting to have feelings for Sun Wukong

dear future husband - meghan trainor - reader saying what marriage be like

right there - ariana grande - how macaque feels in triad au

the guy that i'd kinda be into - be more chill the musical - reader describing the monkie she likes

bad romance - lady gaga - macaque’s feelings for reader in triad au

one last time - ariana grande - Wukong trying to understand his emotions

la on a saturday night - hearts & colors - macaque’s monologue song in triad au

a whole new world - aladdin - Wukong and reader just ridding his cloud to Flower Fruit mountain

symphony - clean bandit - Macaque when he finally accepts he’s inlove

rhythm of the tambourine - hunchback of notredame the musical - Triad au

made you look - meghan trainor - reader’s themesong in triad au

title - meghan trainor - Wukong in triad au trying to get a date

not fall in love with you - rwby soundtrack - works both for the Isekai and triad au

kiss the girl - the little mermaid - Sandy making sure his OTP is cannon

there's nothing holding me back - shawn mendes - triad au wukong in general

stutter - mariana's trench - wukong’s 5 stages of grief about having a crush

troublemaker - olly murrs - wukong’s themesong

still into you - paramore - if Isekai to the west had a crossover with Triad au

millennium parade - belle - a reader song for triad au

light switch - charlie puth - wukong’s crush in triad au

i wanna be your slave - maneskin - wukong in a more hornii mood for reader

she's kinda hot - 5 seconds of summer - Isekai to the west chapter 3 song

teeth - 5 seconds of summer - triad au wukong’s song during a meeting

marry you - bruno mars - wukong trying to convince reader that they get married

paper rings - taylor swift - wukong finally getting a date with reader in triad au

teenage dirtbag - wheatus - macaque’s angst about having a crush on reader

my heart's a stereo - maroon 5 - Macaque starting to fall inlove in isekai au

hips don't lie - shakira - reader meets wukong for the first time in triad au

voodoo doll - 5 seconds of summer - wukong before he realises he likes reader

she looks so perfect - 5 seconds of summer - both monkey’s admiring reader

love me like you do - ellie goulding - wukong and reader in isekai

love me harder - ariana grande - reader’s feelings with wukong

girlfriend - avril lavinge - macaque's song when he’s jealous in isekai

everytime we touch - cascada - wukong simping for reader in triad au

teenage dream - katy perry - reader realising her crush in isekai au

ET - katy perry - reader and wukong’s relationship in a nutshell for isekai

lucky strike - maroon 5 - wukong vs macaque in isekai au

levitating - dua lipa - reader in isekai au

the story of the phantom - goosebumps the musical - macaque in isekai au

take me to church - hozier - wukong having a crush angst in isekai

can't hold us - macklemore - a sun wukong song in isekai

bad reputation - joan jett - how heaven feels about reader and wukong together

guy.exe - superfruit - reader describing her type of guy in triad au

super mario hyadain - wukong vs macaque for reader in isekai au

play with fire - sam tinnesz - macaque and reader first impressions

positions - ariana grande - wukong and reader relationship song in isekai au

34 + 35 - ariana grande - wukong and reader song in triad au

dinero - trinidad cardona - reader’s alter ego song in triad au

no roots - alice merton - isekai to the west in a nutshell

sway - micheal buble - triad wukong takes reader out dancing

helpless - hamilton - triad wukong being lovesick and lovey dovey, while MK witnesses his mentor being cringe

call me by your name - lil nas x - triad wukong themesong

dead girl walking - heathers - wukong and reader having some spicy fun just after wukong is banished by tripitaka

i wanna dance with somebody - whitney houston - reader during the triad au before having a relationship

fairytale - alexander rybak - reader angst on having feeling for wukong in isekai

why don't you do right - who framed roger rabbit - triad wukong meets reader’s alter ego for the first time

La seine and i - a monster in paris - reader performing in triad au

blues in the night - queen tyr'ahnee cover - reader having feelings for triad wukong angst

the great pretender - the platters - reader’s emotional stability during isekai

boys - charlie xcx - reader thinking about wukong in isekai

you will be okay - helluva boss - reader’s song for ao lie and her kids in isekai

no matter what - book of life - reader choosing to be with wukong instead of going home in isekai

Someone you like - girl and the dreamcatcher - triad wukong pining for reader

Ang huling el bimbo - eraserheads - slow dancing in the kitchen in triad au

Something just like this - cold play - macaque pining for reader in triad

Love story of a certain bakeneko - vocaloid

Ahh, it’s a wonderful cat’s life - vocaloid

The wolf that fell inlove with little red ridding hood - rin and len kagamine

Magic mirror - rin and len kagamine

Dance with me tonight - olly murs - a date night song with macaque in triad

La la dee - cody simpson - triad wukong describing his feelings for reader

Perfect - ed sheeran - wukong’s feelings for reader near the end of the journey to the west

Shape of you - ed sheeran - triad wukong being a simp for his wife reader

Seniorita - camila cabello - triad wukong flirting with reader

My oh my - camila cabello - reader’s accepting her feelings for wukong in triad

Uwu - chevy - Wukong’s feelings when he realises he wants to be with reader in isekai au

Canterella - vocaloid - triad wukong and reader on a mission

Je t’aime - kelly sweet - wukong descrining his love for reader in isekai

You’ll be in my heart - tarzan - reader just being happy with her family

Strangers like me - tarzan - wukong being curious aboutreader’s life before the journey to the west

A million dreams - the greatest showman - wukong’s song when he marries reader in isekai

One kiss - descendants - wukong when reader because of magic shenannigans needs to wake-up with true loves kiss

Secret garden - undertale - flowerfell au fansong - triad wukong and reader angst

So she dances - josh groban - triad wukong describing reader to MK

Beautiful ghosts - taylor swift - macaque’s song about reader in isekai

Slow dance with you - adventure time - macaque’s song regarding his pinning for reader

Tightrope - the greatest showman - reader’s conflicting emotions about staying with wukong or going home

Thinking out loud - ed sheeran - wukong pining for reader in isekai

Work form home - fifth harmony - reader flirting with triad wukong

Criminal - britney spears - triad wukong and reader’s relationship in a nutshell

Do it for her - steven universe - triad wukong training isekai wukong to protect reader

Back to life - bumblebee movie - reader and wukong’s wedding song in isekai

I love you to much - book of life - macaque pinning for reader in isekai

Death of a bachelor - panic! At the disco - triad wukong pinning for reader

I’m in love with a monster - fifth harmony - triad reader tells isekai reader on her feelings for triad wukong

Black magic - little mix - reader is jealous that triad wukong is flirting to get info

Animals - maroon 5 - wukong being in heat and wants to mate with reader

I’m a lady - meghan trainor - the jttw crew finds out about reader being isekai’ed to help them

Who i am - the score - macaque introducing himself to the reader in isekai after kidnapping her

Rewrite the stars - the greatest showman - triad wukong and reader fall inlove

Buwan - juan karlos - wukong serenading reader during their first date in isekai

Bad little boy - adventure time - reader and wukong’s dynamic

Monster - adventure time - Wukong angst about reader’s mortality in isekai

Hey soul sister - train - triad wukong being a simp while being cringe

Crush - tessa violet - reader pinning for triad wukong

Would you be so kind - dodie - reader pinning for wukong in isekai

I do adore - mindy gledhill - triad wukong and reader cuddling

Despair - leo - reader pinning for wukong and vice versa in isekai but angsting of it being unrequited

Save me - bruno martini - macaque and wukong paniking because their falling for reader in isekai au

Can’t sleep love - pentatonix - reader talking to sandy about her crush on wukong in isekai

Suki kirai - rin and len kagamine - reader being in denial about being inlove with triad wukong

Someday - disney’s zombies - wukong and reader in general for isekai

Boop - rwby soundtrack - wukong trying to show off and impress reader after he accepts that he loves her

Little miss perfect - owl house fandom - reader angst on wanting to focus on the journey to the west but the dilemma of falling inlove complicates things for her once the journey is done

Ordinary - owl house fandom - reader questioning wukong why he’s inlove with her in isekai au

One more night - maroon 5 - triad wukong wanting reader to stay longer in bed cuddling

You’re the one that i want - grease - triad macaque romantic feelings for reader

If i can’t i love her - beauty and the beast - wukong being in denial for being inlove with reader in isekai au

Evermore - beauty and the beast - wukong angst when reader is presented with the option of returning to her original home

Love like you - steven universe - wukong wondering why reader loves him in isekai

If i could tell her - dear evan hansen - triad macaque hiding his feelings for reader

Only us - dear evan hansen - set during the time wukong is banished from the journey to the west

Your text - sundial - triad wukong trying to get reader’s number

Glad you came - the wanted - triad Wukong meets reader for the first time

Castle on a hill - ed sheeran - wukong reminises his life before the journey to the west and meeting reader

I won’t say i’m in love - hercules - reader being in denial about being inlove with wukong in isekai au

Circus - britney spears - another themesong for reader in triad au

love story - taylor swift - how wukong tells his kids on how he met their mother in isekai au

you belong with me - taylor swift - how triad macaque feels when he sees reader with triad wukong

burn for you - bridgerton musical - wukong pining for reader, but not wanting to confess in isekai au

#lmk au #lmk x reader #lmk sun wukong #triad au #isekai'ed to the west #sun wukong x reader #lmk macaque #macaque x reader

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himbos-hotline · 1 year ago

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☆ sleepover saturday ☆

do you have any hangmega fic recs? either your own fics or other's fics

okay theres more then likely gonna be a lot cuz im gonna just scroll through the tag but theres so many that have fundermentally changed my brain chemestry

@old-no7 Boy unwritten: I dont have enough words to say how much this fundermentally changed not only my brain chemestry but my entire life. the way they paint picture with their words is something that I inspire to have so totally check out all their works but totally boy unwritten cuz it actually made me cry.

Cinderella stories never happen to whores: I dont know who wrote this but its like, I remember sitting in the bank reading this fic cuz like it grips you soooo tightly. Its totally one I go back too and reread

watch each other falling: the characterisation in this really makes me wanna go feral. I normally dont read sex pollin stuff but this took me by the hand and then pulled me into a kiss than a suplex

symphonies in the dark: okay whoever wrote this is in the wrestling and writing server and I think when they posted it I yelled at my sibling so loud over text

warm blood [feels good]: changed me as a man. Also why do we keep going to nick whenever hanger realises that hes in love with kenny, you think nicky understands love?! /lh

okay so runner is a series and I am,,,not over it! I need someone like this as a rp partner! someone who will just like- throw this kinda stuff at me and then we write something like this. I miss rp-ing so bad ;-;

mending bridges: this is another fic i remember clicking on and all of a sudden its the break of dawn and im laying there staring at my celing

to be king for a day: WINNERS ROOM MY BELOVED OMFG

never: more golden lovers than anything and my first fic I read

cuz in my head I do everything right: by @miserablecreachur It rubs my brain so hard that it feels like sandpaper and I literally kinda had to lay down and nap after this fic cuz I lvoed it so much

i come undone: yeah...yeah that tag match...

OKAY after all this im gonna finally show myself some love..theres so many fics and thats all I can remember off the top of my head!

Blood is as rare and sweet as cherry wine: I went to go see horses and the idea hit me cuz it was so cold I had sat shivering and split my lips in the chill and bloody kisses because Cleaner needs to kiss hanger...yeah....

if i said you could never touch me: a fic I pounded out in an hour and has continued to be one of the fic that bite my brain every now and again.

we made our peace with weariness and let it be: hangman stole an ambulance to save kenny...

i find myself alone at night unless im having sex: the happiest prompt turned into hangman pining for kenny while Kenny stares at him and pretends he does not see

an open hand to your other man: kenny omega cant keep promises, says I promise to everyone instead

Angel to me || the distance never made a difference : how hangman loves Kenny, how kenny doesnt say it back, how kota ibushi is there...

i picture it soft and i ache: angel kenny

#hangkenny #sleepover saturday #kenny omega #hangman page #mouse has pals #anon notes #no emoji assigned

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iibonniee · 11 months ago

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Day 6 | Son Hyunwoo

Paring: Son Hyunwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.1k

Prompt: Potluck

Masterlist

Tags: @doveslittlekpoparchive @choicethot @xosunny @heaviihamonii

It was to no surprise that Hyunwoo had agreed to accompany her to her company’s annual Christmas potluck. She had merely thrown the idea onto the table while they were doing their mundane activities - cleaning if she could remember correctly - and she completely forgot about what they were talking about that caused the whole conversation or resulted in him agreeing to join her. Even as the dust particles swirled around in dappled sunlight, the casual way Hyunwoo had accepted her invitation was etched deep in her memory.

They had been working in tandem that day, moving around their shared apartment, brandishing feather dusters like weapons against an age-old foe - house dust. She could still recall how Hyunwoo’s broad shoulders flexed, his sleeves rolled up to his drenched elbows, and his handsome face contorted in intense focus as he tried to rid their bookshelf of the stubborn dust and grime.

Amidst their friendly bickering about who caused more dust in the apartment and the shared laughter when Hyunwoo nearly knocked over a succulent, she had casually tossed in a joke: “You should come to the Christmas potluck with me this year,” she had said, “keep me from eating all the desserts by myself.”

The statement carried more weight than it seemed – it was a semi-serious invitation for Hyunwoo to enter her professional world, a world that largely remained separate from their intimate bubble. But she had said it with a levity that belied the seriousness behind those words. So, when Hyunwoo glanced her way and grinned, agreeing without missing a beat, she was surprised.

“Oh, really? Well, I suppose I can’t let you devour all the good food alone,” he had retorted lightly, yet the sincerity in his eyes touched her deeply. His support for her, even in the smallest of things, made her feel cherished and loved like nothing else.

And just like that, amidst motes of floating dust and a symphony of cleaning tools, a promise was made – a promise of companionship, support, and shared laughter that encapsulated not only this mundane Saturday morning but also the upcoming excitement of the company Christmas potluck.

But that Saturday came far too quickly for her to say it was okay, and soon enough, she found herself parked outside her company’s building with a bag of goodies. Her inhale was slightly shaky, knowing that Hyunwoo had never met any of her co-workers and vice versa. She would love to deny the box for them to believe he existed. But here he was, by her side, his confident smile warming her like the woolen scarfs she loved to wrap herself up in during winter.

As expected, the moment they walked into the party together, audible gasps and whispers echoed around the room, making her chuckle. She saw the disbelief on her co-workers’ faces, their eyes flashing from her to Hyunwoo, attempting to match the man beside her with the stories she’d shared over water-cooler chats.

Their shared cleaning escapades she’d described seemed too mundane for a man who seemingly radiated sophistication and charm, even in a crowd of strangers. Yet the very same charm Hyunwoo unleashed upon them was the same she had come to love during their cozy apartment cleans or simple movie binges with snacks on the side. She’d describe how he’d critically eye the grime on their bookshelf, his sleeves rolled up, a determined sparkle in his eyes that made her heart race. Or just how passionate he was about his job. That said, she attempted to hide just in case her co-workers knew of his group.

What they hadn’t realized was that the menial daily activities and his support during them drew her more than any grandiose display of affection. There was a sentimental touch in his every gesture, such as the times when he’d lovingly promised to keep her from eating all the desserts at the potluck. This joke held so much more sentiment now as her co-workers finally met the man who was very real and very much hers.

“So, this is Hyunwoo, the much-talked-about yet unseen boyfriend?” Hwan asked, casting a sideways glance at him as her colleague slid up to her, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Y/N nodded, a smile breaking out across her face as she observed Hyunwoo. He was now in line for the food, plate in his hands, a boyish look of excitement spreading over his features as he gazed at the selection of dishes.

Hwan laughed lightly, “He certainly looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

“Yes, he always gets this way around food,” she replied, her gaze fond. She could only chuckle at that, watching as Hyunwoo generously heaped his plate with various foods, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

There was something endearing about seeing him so eager, his aura infecting those around him and infusing the room with a joyful energy. Watching him, she couldn’t help smiling. She’s finally showing her routine world, her colleagues, a little part of the magic of Hyunwoo, which had been limited to their shared little corner until now.

She glanced back at Hwan and noticed his mouth held a slight open awe. Subtly nudging him, she joked, “Try not to stare.”

The following laughter filling their space just reaffirmed her point; Hyunwoo wasn’t just real; he was a spectacle, one that she was lucky enough to enjoy beyond these four walls.

Everyone seemed to be drawn to Hyunwoo’s charisma as the evening progressed. His genuine interest in the stories he heard and the way he’d laugh freely at funny antidotes enhanced the lively atmosphere.

Amid the fun, Hyunwoo’s gaze would fall back on her from time to time, his smile reaching his eyes as if the potluck had become a private joke they both enjoyed. That connection that spanned across the room made everything even more special to her.

By the end of the evening, it was evident to everyone that Hyunwoo was far from a mere figment of her imagination but a vibrant presence in her life. They saw his charm, felt his infectious laughter, and undoubtedly, his respect and love for her.

“Did your co-workers have enough of me yet?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her as the party began to wind down, his eyes soft but dancing with mischief.

She laughed fondly, looking up at him, “I think you made quite an impression.”

“Hopefully, a good one,” Hyunwoo replied, his arm squeezing her gently.

“Very good,” she reassured him, reaching up to kiss his cheek sweetly. She could feel the eyes of her colleagues on them, but none of that mattered because, in that room filled with people, they were in their own world. A precious bubble that included just her and Hyunwoo – very real and very much hers.

And just like that, amidst the chatter and laughter-filled room, the potluck turned out to be an evening that neither she nor her colleagues would forget. It was the night the ‘imaginary’ Hyunwoo became a defining part of her life’s storyboard, shown to an audience beyond their little corner, yet still magically theirs.

#kchristmas #kvanity #monsta x imagines #monsta x x reader #monsta x fluff #shownu imagines #hyunwoo x reader #hyunwoo imagine

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filmnoirfoundation · 18 days ago

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NOIR CITY returns to Phoenixville’s historical Colonial Theatre, November 15-17. Join FNF prez Eddie Muller for a three-day extravaganza featuring 10 films with the theme “Darkness Has No Borders”. This year’s program is tailored to satisfy folks who love noir that’s full of the colorful vernacular slang so essential to American and British noir—as well as adventurous viewers intrigued by a familiar story–a crime committed for passion or profit—playing out in cultures with different values, mores, and styles.

The festival opens Friday night with a salute to pulp writer Cornell Woolrich, the new FNF-funded restoration of the 1952 Argentine film No abras nunca esa puerta (Never Open That Door) followed by the FNF preservation print of Si muero antes de despertar (If I Should Die Before I Wake – 1952 Argentina) - the last part of a Cornell Woolrich trilogy originally planned for Never Open that Door but released as a stand-alone feature. Hollywood’s big screen adaptation of Woolrich’s Street of Chance (1952) finishes the evening. UCLA Film & Television Archive performed the restoration and preservation.

The Saturday matinee screenings comprise two prison break films, Black Tuesday (1954) and Jacques Becker’s Le trou (The Hole). The evening screenings feature two existential classics, the U.K. production The Bridge (1957) and Japan’s Zero no shoten (1961). Sunday’s program begins with two heist films, John Huston’s The Asphalt Jungle (1944) and Symphonie pour un massacre (1963). The festival closes with two L. A. set noirs Murder by Contract (1958) and Italy’s Smog (1962).

Schedule, singe feature tickets ($20), and double feature tickets ($40) are available on the Colonial Theatre’s website.

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slagduroc · 9 months ago

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Yo Journal,

Today was straight-up epic, man, like a hype symphony of joy and colors – my kinda Saturday vibe. The city embraced me like a bro hug, and you could feel the adventure vibes in the air, you know? 🌆

The morning kicked off with the sun throwing down some orange hues, giving the city a sick, warm vibe. Perfect start to the day, no doubt. After cruising through the lively streets, ended up at this chill café. Freshly brewed coffee smell mixing with the buzz of fellow city explorers – set the tone just right. ☕

Hit up the art gallery, bro, and it was wild. Aqua blue strokes and vibrant orange on those canvases were talking, man. Each piece had a story, a real expression of emotions that hit me in the feels. 🎨

Got the spontaneous vibes going and threw an invite to a buddy for some recreation at my place. The night went down with laughs, real connections, and stories weaving together like a dope quilt. The living room was decked out in aqua blue and orange, becoming this chill spot for shared moments and heartfelt convos. 🎉

Playlist dropped, man, setting the vibe for our recreation. A mix matching the rhythm of the day. As the night settled, city lights outside threw this warm, orange glow, making the atmosphere cozy as hell. Saturdays like these, surrounded by friends and vibrant colors, get etched into the memory tapestry. 🌈

Til the next Saturday adventure, Dante

#Dante #nerm candy #nermcandy #anime art #ai art #anime ai #anime #anime hunks #anime men #anime muscle

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aheckinmess · 8 months ago

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(One-Shot series 1/3 - regularly updated every Saturday. Toshinori fanart used in title card was created by @yokkisu! You should go follow! There's great stuff over there!)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Toshinori Yagi, All Might, Toshinori x OC, All Might x OC, Smol Might, All Might is a Ray of Sunshine, I Just Want Smol Might to Eat, A Nice Moonlit Beach, Popsicles and Ice Cream, Symbol of Peace to the Rescue

Word Count: 4,653 words

Summary: Ichijiku loves going to the beach and listening to the stories the seagulls tell her, but one evening she sees a stranger being bullied and stands up against his offenders. One spontaneous game of tag, a trip to get ice cream, and some friendly banter later they exchange numbers to keep in touch. As they spend more time together, what sort of secrets will Toshinori and Ichijiku reveal to each other?

Chapter 1: Best of Both Worlds

Ichijiku (Tigress)

Nothing beats the salty brine in the air or the warm crunch of sand underfoot from an evening on the beach. The moon paints a story as it reflects off the waves and the seagulls carry on oral tradition to pass the story along their route. Closing my eyes and listening to the hiss of water trickling into the dry sand helps me relax all my muscles and sigh out today's frustrations.

But there's a sound that disrupts the auditory symphony around me.

"Ew, gross! What the hell are you?" A young voice taunts.

"I'm sorry. I can leave." A tired voice responds.

"You better. You're ruining the scenic view of the beach!"

Normally, I'm not one to get into other peoples' conversations, but after listening to Grandma all day and wondering what this stranger might be going through that he can't even get a break at the beach makes me get up and head towards the only other group of people here.

"Your attitude is ruining the blissful silence." I sass back as I get within hearing range.

There are two blondes, a brunette, and a ginger in my view. All male. You're trying to get killed, aren't you, Ichijiku? No one deserves to be treated less than human. No matter what they look like!

One of the blondes seems to be the victim, because the other three are all wearing smirks and surrounding him. Said victim is tall with a decrepit face and he looks horrified that I've shown up. I can only feel a little tug in my squishy heart for him. He looks a little thin and worse for wear, but that's no reason to call someone ugly or disgusting!

"What are you gonna do about it, sweetheart?" The ginger stands a foot taller than me and seems to think that means I'll cower under him as he towers above me. Not a chance.

"I'm simply here to remind you that this beach is a public space to everyone, not just your massive ego." I purr sweetly, eyes glinting fiercely in the moonlight.

He doesn't appear visibly scared of me - and who would? - but he does shift his weight so he isn't looming over me as much. "Yeah? Well this guy could hardly be considered a person. Have you gotten a good look at him?"

"He's as much human as you and I." I say simply. "Just because you don't like the looks of him doesn't mean anything's wrong with him."

He scoffs, nods, and his two buddies take both of his sides, closing me in.

"Hey, leave her alone." The thin man reaches out, his voice sounding vaguely familiar in his determination and warning tones.

But he really needn't worry.

"Lay off, Pops. We'll be gentle with her." The brunette licks his lips suggestively.

And that's about all he does, because in the next moment I yawn nice and loud. I take a few steps back as all three of them simultaneously flop forward, unconscious and asleep. I step around them and over to the taller man. Taller even than the three goons picking on him. They clearly didn't have any sense of self-preservation.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, tilting my head a bit to look up at him.

"Well, I was going to ask you the same thing, but it appears you had yourself handled." He chuckles, finally meeting my eyes. "I apologize for causing a disturbance."

"I'm not sure why you're apologizing. You didn't do anything." I snort, before looking at the sleeping group of misfits on the ground. I nod towards my stuff further down the beach. "C'mon. Walk with me. You seem like you could use a buddy. I'm Ichijiku."

"Toshinori."

I start the trek towards my beach towel and adventure bag.

"You didn't have to put yourself in danger for my sake, you know." Toshinori says softly.

"Yeah? Tell that to every pro hero who's ever rescued someone." I tease, pausing for a moment a few feet away from my towel to sit in the sand and sift through a little collection of shells. I just need one more. A purple one.

"I guess you've got me there." There's a smirk in his tone and then I feel him shift until he's sitting beside me. "But you could have gotten seriously hurt, and I can take care of myself."

"Of that, I have no doubt." I say for his credit as I toss a blue shell towards the rippling waves. "But no one should be allowed to say such awful things. As someone who grew up in a household like that...sometimes the best advocate is someone who's outside the situation. Stranger or not."

The air is quiet for a time as we both just appreciate the others' presence. I keep tossing out shells until there's none left. Dang. No luck today. I pull my knees up to my chest and just watch the water for some time.

"So, what brought you out to the beach on this fine evening?" I finally ask.

"Mm?" He turns to look at me and I can see reality sinking back into his gaze. "Oh. I just wanted some time to clear my head. I..." He opens his mouth, then closes it. "Nevermind. It's nothing. Suffice it to say that I've been having to come to terms with some distressing news."

"Understandable." I hum softly. "I'm no stranger to distressing news. Is it something you want to talk about or that you need a distraction from?"

"Definitely a distraction." He sighs.

An idea starts forming in my mind. Are you an idiot? He's a stranger! You're taking everything he says at face value. There's no harm in helping him feel better after those people were being so cruel to him. He deserves a break. Indeed. But keep your guard up, just in case. He is still a stranger. I know.

"Well, in that case..." I tap his arm and then jump up to bolt down the beach side. "Tag! You're it!"

I make it maybe thirty feet before I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

"You're it!"

I swat at him again and miss with a little squeal as I slip in the sand. I manage to catch myself before I fall completely and dart right back after him.

"You tall people and your long legs!" I call at his back as I try to pace myself without inducing an asthma attack.

It at least gets a laugh from him. Our impromptu game doesn't last long, but soon we're both panting and giggling in the sand. I'm wheezing, but I pull my inhaler from my bag and give it a few good sprays to manage my mucus-filled airways.

"Oh, hey, sorry. If I'd known you had asthma–"

"You better not say you'd have taken it easy on me, because I'd have punched you straight in the jaw." I laugh, leaning back on my elbows in the sand. "Just because I've got a health condition doesn't make me helpless. It just means I have to find a different way to do the things I enjoy."

He gives me an odd look, his eyes sparkling a bit. I find I enjoy it, as it doesn't look as sad as the expression he wore before our little game.

"So, I've told you about why I was out here...why are you out on the beach alone this evening? You know, aside from being here so you can play tag with strangers." He smiles and I move a little closer to him.

The smile he gets in response doesn't fully reach my eyes. I look into the sand and heave a little sigh.

"I sort of hinted earlier that I grew up in a critical household. Specifically, my grandma was the culprit of that dynamic." I lay all the way back in the sand to look at the stars so I don't feel as lame or pathetic admitting all of this. "You could say that she has to have something to be upset about because nothing ever pleases her. And ever since I was born, I've been the scapegoat for most of that. She called me today to remind me of all my shortcomings, so I needed someplace to relax and clear my head."

Silence stretches between us and the stars. I'm grateful for the comfort I receive from the twinkling lights above me. It's like they're winking at me, telling me that everything is going to be okay. Or like their eyes are glassy with emotions, showing how much they empathize with you. I wonder what tales the stars have of their own. I often wonder too...

"I'm sorry to hear that. I've only known you for the better part of this evening, but based on my experience, it doesn't take long with someone like you to recognize a compassionate heart." Toshinori turns his head to look at me, and I turn to meet his gaze.

"I appreciate that. I've been working on trying to convince myself of that." I chuckle, reaching across the sand to squeeze his hand. I hope that wasn't taken as too intimate of a gesture. I feel like I'm on a date, and all I've done is run around with him and talked. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so close so quickly. You needed a listening ear, and there's nothing wrong with that. But you are wise to be wary of your emotions.

"Well...take it from an outside party," He winks. "You're more than what you give yourself credit for."

My rumbling tummy promptly ruins the mood.

"Sorry." I flush and sit up. I start rummaging through my adventure bag for a granola bar, but find that I failed to pack anything. "Ugh. Squirrel brain..." I mutter.

"You must be hungry. What have you eaten today? Would you like to grab a bite for dinner? Or do you just need a snack?" Toshinori offers. "It's the least I can do for helping me out back there."

"Just a snack should be fine." I say quickly, not wanting to admit that it will probably be the only thing I've eaten all day. "But you don't have to do that. It really was nothing."

"I insist. Besides, it's not safe for you to be out alone so late. I'm sure you're more than capable, but allow me an act of chivalry." He grins.

I can't help but laugh at that. He's not so bad. I could get used to him. I wonder if I can get his number so we can stay friends. "You're probably right about that. If All Might has to save me one more time, he might start charging me a fee."

There's a knowing smile on his face coupled with his shock that makes me giggle. I figured he might find that amusing!

"All Might? Now, this I've got to hear. What did you do to warrant him saving you? More trouble like tonight?"

"Noooo! The other two times weren't my fault!" I pout up at him. "I actually instigated neither of those situations!"

"Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Listen, I'm not above pretending to need saving so All Might will come here again so he can prove it to you!" I say in a stern tone, but I'm laughing too much to be taken seriously. "I was a victim of circumstance!"

"What sort of circumstances then?" He asks with a shake of his head as he helps me grab my towel and my bag.

"The first time was in a skating rink. A villain with an ice quirk was messing with the rink as everyone was trying to get off of it. I, being the graceful person I am, kept slipping and ended up trapped in said ice." I snort, leaving out parts of the story.

"Is that so?" He laughs, and I can't look at him because the look on his face makes me feel like he might be able to catch me lying if I stare for too long.

He doesn't need to know that I kept trying to help the other people in the rink. He might think I was stupid for not saving myself...or maybe after tonight it wouldn't be that surprising. Gah! I don't know how to interact with people! Relax. Just keep telling the story.

"Yeah, and All Might showed up shortly after. He managed to help save me from the villain and get him tied up. You can imagine...I was freezing! I didn't even get to thank him properly." I shake my head. "I know that he doesn't save people for all the popularity and stuff, but I still wanted to show him my gratitude. Thankfully, a second villain a few weeks after that decided to snatch me up as a hostage. Since All Might rescued me then, I was able to share my gratitude." I kick a rock out of my path.

"I'm sure he knows you're grateful. He's a busy guy, ya know? He understands."

"Oh, I know. I get that he's a big hero and symbol that everyone takes for granted, but I wanted him to know that I wasn't grateful just because he's a hero. I was thankful because he's heroic, and yes, there's a difference." I stick my tongue out at him.

"The world could use more people with that ideology." Toshinori sighs, looking ahead of us. "Hey, there's an ice cream stand ahead. Want to get some ice cream in remembrance of your skating rink incident?"

"Oooo, yes!" I agree, already picking up my pace. "I'm so ready. I've been craving popsicles lately."

"You don't come to an ice cream stand to get popsicles." He crinkles his nose.

"Oh yeah? And who's gonna stop me?" I giggle, already looking over the menu and deciding on an orange popsicle.

"Listen, with as many times as you've had to be saved, ice cream might be what All Might asks for as payment." Toshinori laughs, placing his order and then stepping aside.

"If ice cream is the only payment the Symbol of Peace wants for saving thousands upon thousands of people...I can't really say much. Because I'd probably do the same. Ice cream is the best." I grin, putting in my order and then turning my bag around so I can start pulling out my wallet.

"It's together." I hear Toshinori say, and then a receipt starts printing out that he takes.

I stand with my mouth agape.

"You sneaky little weasel! I was gonna pay for it! You weren't supposed to do that!"

"Oh yeah? And who's gonna stop me?" He smirks.

I make my most unamused face at him before I can't help cracking a smile. I shake my head.

"All I'm saying is if All Might takes your ice cream, it'll be poetic justice."

"Consider the decision justified, then." He says, taking a bite of his ice cream.

I just roll my eyes and take the popsicle. For the next few moments, we're quiet as we indulge in our sweet treats. I follow him as he leads me down the street, pointing out a few places he frequents.

"You've been to that karaoke bar? I've been there a couple of times with my friends. It's pretty nice! And the snacks are amazing." I comment whenever he points out Shigouraiki Karaoke Bar.

"I was about to say, the snacks are the best part. I'm usually by myself, though." He admits, taking another bite from his Mighty Mix ice cream.

"Well, we'll have to change that. Give me your number and I'll invite you some time. Karaoke's no fun by yourself!" I pull out my phone. When he pulls his out too, I tap the top of my phone against his. "There. Don't mind the weird picture."

Toshinori laughs. It's beginning to feel familiar and warm to make up for the cold popsicle.

"What's with the sassy look? You have a blue gift bow on the top of your head, did someone give you a bad gift?" He teases.

"You had to be there to understand." I giggle, about halfway done with my popsicle now. I find myself slowing down because I don't want to stop talking with him. "My friend Hanayuki was taking pictures of me with the bow on my head, and I thought she was done taking them. So I sent her a sassy look and she betrayed me."

"I'm glad she did. The sass suits you." A dribble of ice cream runs down his fingers and he looks at me. "Mind grabbing my napkin?"

"I gotcha." I take the napkin and dab one hand so he can get the other. "My house is only a few more blocks past this shopping district. And then you'll be free of me."

"The world will soon seem duller, then." The sorrow in his tone sounds genuine. "Do you think we could meet up again, sometime soon?"

"Of course! I might even manage to garner a presence from All Might." I wink.

"I look forward to it."

As we make the final trek to my house, I toss my popsicle stick into the nearest trash receptacle. This shouldn't feel like a date when I've only just met him. But he's so easy to talk to. I grab my keys from my bag before turning to him.

"Thank you for walking me home, Toshinori, I appreciate it."

"It's not a problem. Thank you for the company, Ichijiku." He grins as he looks down at me. "I look forward to seeing you again. This was...certainly the best time I've had hanging out with someone in a while."

"Likewise." I say as I crinkle my nose playfully. "Stay safe tonight."

"I'll be sure to call you if I need saving."

"You'd better!"

. . . . .

Toshinori ends up needing to be saved rather frequently. He calls to invite me to his house, where he needs saving from loneliness. He calls to invite me to the karaoke bar, where he needs saving from discordant music notes. He calls to invite me to dinner, where he needs saving from an empty stomach.

At long last, he calls to invite me to be his girlfriend, where he needs saving from a life without me.

"Aww, Toshi-kun, you could have just asked over dinner." I laugh into the receiver while watering plants.

"I know, but...there were people around and I wasn't sure. I was a little scared, to be honest." I can hear the shyness in his voice.

"Well, I'm glad you asked me at all." I admit, moving on into the warmer fuzzier feelings of being his girlfriend. He makes me so happy. "Now you get to help me go through all of the pet names I've been going over in my head. How does schnookums sound?"

"Like a disease."

"Agreed. I hate it. Next one. How are we feeling about darling?"

"It's not bad. I don't know that it fits me."

"Perhaps I'll reserve it for when I'm feeling fanciful. What are your thoughts on honey bunches of oats?"

"Like the cereal? I already feel fragile. I don't want to feel old too." He chuckles.

"That's fair." I reach down to pet my cat as I think up another. "Do you have any objections to lover boy?"

"Mm, it has potential."

"My thoughts exactly, lover boy." I blow a kiss over the receiver. "The others will have to wait, though, because it's just occurred to me that I'm all out of green yarn. And that, my dear, simply will not do."

"My dear has a nice ring to it." He says. "But I'll let you go then. Be safe. Don't talk to strangers."

"Now, Toshinori, when have I ever spoken to strangers?" I ask, grabbing my bag and keys and heading out the door.

"I happen to recall this one night on the beach..."

"Oh dear..."

"And you ran into this tall, decrepit man getting bullied by three strangers..."

"Will you never let me live it down, beloved?"

"Oh! I like that one."

"Yeah, me too." I smile. "But bye-bye, foreels this time. I have to drive."

"Okay, stay safe."

"I will."

For the next thirty minutes, I follow up on my promise. I drive safe, make it to the hobby store safely, and start perusing the yarn section with caution. I manage to grab maybe three skeins of yarn before the shelves rattle dangerously. I notice the other shelves starting to collapse and rush to the end of the aisle to get out of the way, but I don't completely make it.

Pain ripples through my lower back and legs as the shelf catches my back end. Thankfully, my top half is unmarred and able to look around. Lo and behold, a villain starts walking from the back of the store with a gleaming grin on his face. Are you kidding me? A third time?! You'd think they had a radar for when to ruin my day.

"All of you were unsuspecting, right? No one thought the clerk up front could be a villain. That's the problem with society. Everyone thinks evil has the same face!" He roars, kicking another shelf over. It dominoes into the others across from me as I cover my head.

Screams cut across the store as I grit my teeth and try to move once the rumbling fades. Come on, gotta get out! Other people could get hurt! I manage to wiggle a bit, but another wave of searing heat grips my calf, and I know I shouldn't move anymore.

A hand grips my chin tightly as the villain makes me look up at him. I glare at him with all the tiger in my body.

"How does it feel knowing no one will save you?" He whispers to me.

"How does it feel knowing no one will listen to you?" I growl back.

"How does it feel knowing I am here!" A thunderous clap resounds through the store as All Might stomps his foot on the ground.

I don't even blink before a punch sends the villain hurdling back away from me. Relief floods my bones so quickly I feel tears prickling in my eyes. A cacophony of thoughts swirl in my head while the fight ensues. Everything from cheering him on to win the fight to jokingly wondering if I can get him to meet Toshinori and wondering if he'll want ice cream as payment for his services. My brain isn't fully there.

But All Might is fully there, and that's quite literally the only thing keeping me alive.

Once the sound of police sirens accompanies the lack of fighting, I watch All Might hand off the villain to the police. A rescue team makes eye contact with me and one of the men voices my predicament.

"Someone's trapped under that shelf!" He gapes.

"You guys help the others and point out anyone else who needs my help. I'll start with helping this young woman." All Might responds, and in another moment, I'm once again face-to-face with the Symbol of Peace. "I've been seeing you around a lot, young lady." He grunts as he starts lifting both yarn shelves to keep one from collapsing into the other on top of me.

His eyes glisten with mischief as he looks down on me. I can see the blue in his eyes. That blue looks so familiar... I think, before I catch his expression and I understand. Toshinori...

"You're..." I whimper as I begin dragging myself free. "...going to have to start charging me an ice cream fee...with how often you have to save me."

Once I'm free of the shelves, All Might sets them down and turns back to me. His eyes give him away. That soft expression and even his iconic smile tilts up in a way now so familiar to me. He cradles me delicately, perhaps a bit intimately given the secret we both know I've uncovered, before he sets me down in an ambulance outside.

"You..." He opens his mouth and pauses, shaking his head. "I know you must think..." Another pause. "I want to explain..." His face looks so worried and awkward and scared, before he turns as a police officer calls for help from inside the store. His signature smile returns. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But I have to go help them." And then he disappears.

I'm crying by the time the EMT reaches me.

Once it's all said and done, my minor wounds are dressed and I'm advised to take it easy on my leg.

"If you have a friend who can take you home now, I'd advise giving them a call. Otherwise, we'll have to find someone to take you home, and it may be a while." The man informs me, but I don't fully hear him.

The world around me swims by in a murky grey as I try to make sense of everything that's just transpired. It's not that any of it is bad, it's just that a lot has happened. A few more tears trickle down my cheeks as I just nod and pull out my phone. It sustained minimal damage thanks to my screen protector and padded buttcheeks.

I scroll to Toshinori and feel my heart ache. He's the only one I want to take me home but...

"I can take it from here." All Might's voice interrupts.

The EMT looks up at him like he's just won the lottery. I look up at him like I'm seeing a ghost.

"O-Of course! Sh-She needs..."

"To get home, so I heard. I don't mind giving the wounded woman a lift!" He says with a smile, before offering his hand. "Ma'am, if you can give me your address, I can get you there safely."

I utter the proper address before he tucks me in his chest again and we're flying. The heights make my tummy swim with butterflies. I don't say anything as the world passes by us.

"I'm sorry again, Ichichan, that I didn't tell you." He says, his voice just a bit louder to make himself heard over the wind. "I can understand if you're upset."

"I-It's not that." I admit, closing my eyes as I try to decipher how I'm feeling. "It's just a lot to process. But it also worries me."

"What do you mean?"

"When you're..." I want to say Toshinori, but it doesn't feel right, because I know he's the same no matter his form. So I use a different nickname. "When you're Smol Might...I already worry that I don't deserve you. You're so kind and sweet, and more than I deserve, really. But...knowing that you're also All Might...it makes me feel even less deserving. You've helped a lot of people and done so much good. I don't really see how you could consider me worth a second glance in either scenario."

All is quiet until we reach my house. Toshinori has to give the door an extra shove since my bag was lost under the shelves in the hobby store, and then we make it inside where he sets me down. Steam starts hissing around him until he exhales and coughs, a splash of blood decorating his hand. He wipes it off on his costume, now three times too big.

He kneels by the couch and cups my face, eyes shining their perfect blue.

"You deserve so much more than me." He breathes, thumb rubbing over my skin. I hold his hand there, enjoying the intimacy. "Even with all I've done as a Symbol, you deserve more. And I mean that."

My little frame rattles as I hug his arm.

"You...You won't leave me?"

"No, Ichichan," He promises, leaning in and making my lips tingle with our first, perfect kiss. "I am here."

Continue Reading -> Ch. 2

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