#unsure of proper terms | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seresinhangmanjake · 2 months ago

Text

A Trade

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When Feyd asked for your hand, your father refused and took you away from him. Now he’ll do anything to get you back, and he’s not above kidnapping your sister to offer a trade.

Notes/Warnings: kidnapping and threats of death. I think that’s it. Feyd’s soft for reader.

Words: 4000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

He sits quietly, his chair facing another of its matching set, and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His hands clasp, fingers squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing in an effort to suppress the rage he hasn’t been able to let go of for weeks.

With eyes scanning over the figure sitting his opposite, Feyd’s teeth grind, wearing down the grit of his molars. It’s hard not to scrutinize. As he takes in every feature of her face, his lips and eyebrows involuntarily quirk in distaste. It’s not that her features aren’t nicely proportionate or well-placed on the structure of her face; they’re just…wrong. Familiar, but incorrect.

“You don’t look like her,” he says.

Her stare is just as intense as the one he knows so well. And though she may not look quite right, the aura she exudes does not stray from what he expects of someone with her blood.

She jerks on the binds that are keeping her wrists locked behind her back and huffs when they don’t give way to her strength. “Well, we aren’t twins,” she states.

There’s a bite there, but no soft edge to cushion the blow. She doesn’t know the proper way to deal with him. She doesn’t know how to ease the tension in his bones with her words. He supposes that is one of many things that makes the difference. It’s why he loves you and would not love a woman like her.

Again she tugs on the ropes confining her.

“Don’t bother,” he says.

She lets out a groan before finally surrendering. “You know, she told me all about you. About what became of the two of you. How it happened,” she says. “And I understand. I do. But do you honestly believe having your men abduct me was the best idea?”

Feyd leans back in his chair. His arms cross over his chest. You are the only one who questions him, the only one allowed to question him, and his jaw ticks as he pulls back on the desire to slide a blade across your sister’s cheek.

��I do,” he says.

Your sister shakes her head. “You know they’re giving her to Kenric. Father is with her on their planet in the process of signing a formal agreement.”

Feyd shoots up, hungry acid eating his insides. He’d heard news of the pending engagement, but he does not care to listen to those words strung together for a second time, especially not in a voice that so closely resembles yours. It makes him want to hurt something, damage something, but when the nearest target flinches at the sharpness of his movement, he pauses. You would want him to pause. He takes a breath and runs his hand down his face before circling to the back of the chair and gripping the edge of the seat. His knuckles whiten.

“She is not marrying Kenric,” Feyd says. “Your House will give her back to me if I offer them you in return.”

She hums, unconvinced, and a crease forms at the center of his brow. He’s far from appreciative of how unsure she seems, considering this plan was the only one well-formed enough for execution. As the second born, she may not be as important as you are, but she’s a daughter of a Great House nonetheless, and no elite would allow the death of one of their own, certainly not their child, without some attempt at preservation first. They'll have to agree to his terms.

But if they don’t…

Feyd stares into the blank space by your sister’s head, his vision hazy, shapes blurring with each image of you that travels around his mind. Things had been so well. Content, yet passionate. Fulfilling. They’d been as close to perfect as Feyd could recognize from others’ descriptions of the feeling.

You were a gift unto him without anyone realizing it. Your parents sent you for education, for experimentation, for practice in learning how to infiltrate other Houses so when the day comes for you to lead beside another, you would have the knowledge and skillset to manipulate any Great line from the inside out.

It wasn’t presented that way to his uncle, of course. You were introduced with the suggestion that the Baron see a curious girl, an innocent flower wanting to expose herself to foreign practices. But the act did not fool Feyd. He instantly saw the spots where the rose’s thorns had been clipped. What stood before him was a weapon briefly tamed for the sake of disguise who would grow back her barbs once planted within his walls. And he found much amusement in your deception.

It took mere weeks for you to fall with Feyd into deep affection. You were always around, always peering where you should not have been peering, listening to what did not belong to your ears, and when he got fed up with your lack of covertness, he confronted you. Confrontation which led to lessons in stealth that tucked the both of you into dark corners hidden from prying eyes. Dark corners that only shadowed your bodies if you were pressed against one another. Bodies that were so close breaths couldn’t help but intertwine. Breaths that brushed heat over faces and ceased only when lips met.

And then with one mistake, one request, you were gone. Kidnapped by your family’s guards. Taken from behind his turned back. Sand through his fingers.

“I believed her when she told me you loved her,” your sister says, snapping Feyd back to attention. Her mouth is parted, and as her eyes scan his face, they’re alight with something akin to wonder but with a few tainting specks of disgust. A reasonable reaction; one he anticipated. Her sister in bed with a Harkonnen—how horrible. “Nevertheless, it's fascinating to witness for myself.”

Feyd’s eyes narrow. His spine straightens. He squares his shoulders. “I asked for her hand first. She should be mine.”

A scoff bursts from your sister’s throat. “That is not what I have heard,” she tells him. “You did not ask; you demanded. And you were both naive,” she says. “She was not sent here to fall in love. Not to mention, your family has a reputation you should not forget.”

“She does not fear me,” he snaps.

“She does not have to.”

“I am a Lord, an heir, as much as any other son of the Great Houses. My title makes me worthy. They had no valid reason to reject me and take her.”

“Do you think there isn’t more to it than any title put upon you?” she asks before she says, “It’s the wars your House involves yourselves in. The greed. The possessiveness. The pale hands in everyone else’s pots. The children you would produce.”

His jaw clenches. “And what would be wrong with our children?”

“What would be right with them? Everyone would fear the deplorable monsters they might grow to be with your blood coursing through their veins.”

Feyd’s heart prickles.

He hadn’t thought much of children; he’d simply thought of you and what it would take to keep you by his side. Anything else he’d deemed the concerns of a much later time, but now, with it forced into his mind, he finds himself unexpectedly devastated. Normally he wouldn’t care about opinions, but to understand what ideas others might conjure up at the possibility of your union sickens him. The children you would create would be nothing less than flawless. Warriors. Survivors. Leaders. A pristine blending of you both. He knows it.

Your sister’s chest caves with a heavy sigh. “Look, I do not say these things to hurt you in retaliation for dragging me here against my will. They are fact.”

In his silence, Feyd can feel her studying him from the inside out, not wasting a single passing second. Her position—the ties around her wrists that keep her bound to the chair—which would cause great concern to others, seems to fade in importance against her consistent, concentrated observing. It does not last long before he grows tired of it.

“What?” he spits.

Pity bleeds into her irises. “She did try to convince them,” she says. “She claimed you’re different than you appear. Not as harsh. Not as impulsive as everyone believes.”

His gaze falls to his feet. “She was lying.”

“Clearly,” your sister agrees. Then her voice tips; softens. “But she was desperate. She would’ve said anything, though it wouldn’t have mattered. They refused to listen.”

Feyd’s eyelids pinch. He can picture you as desperate as he is. Begging. Begging as a Lady such as yourself would beg: with wit and strategy, utilizing every trick in the book short of falling on your knees. You’re like him. He begs as you do, but in his own way, with his own tricks.

“What do you believe will come of this? Really.”

Feyd looks up at her. “I told you, she will be mine again,” he doesn’t hesitate to say. “That is what will come of this.”

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks. “Will you stop?”

“What do you think?”

As if he had cracked open her skull to reveal her brain, Feyd has an unobstructed view of each one of her thoughts nestling deeply into her mind. She said so herself what she and her House—what all Houses—think of him. War, greed, possessiveness. And he is but a fraction of the Harkonnen’s totality of power. What he’s done by taking her brushes the cusp of his capabilities, and his uncle would not restrain him from conquering another planet and snuffing out an elite lineage to obtain what he desires.

As your sister runs through the many repercussions of his plan’s potential failure, he decides he has wasted enough of his time on her. He can no longer stand to look at the face that lacks the features he prefers.

“Where are you going?” she says when he turns on his heel.

“We’re done for now. You’ll be escorted to the guest quarters.”

“Not a cell?”

Feyd halts.

“You’re her sister,” he says over his shoulder. And then he leaves her behind.

—

“They’ll come today.”

Your sister looks up from the plate of food in front of her, her eyes landing on Feyd as he stops just in front of the dining table where she sits.

He’s reminded again how different she is from you. How when you sat in that same seat—a seat he is struggling not to scold your sister for occupying—you were the lone bright object in the room. Nothing about this soul-sucking black hole was capable of dimming you, and yet your contrast fit perfectly. You slotted into his fortress as if you were meant to one day rule over its every occupant, himself included. But Giedi Prime’s design does not blend well with your sister. She’s a royal-purple-velvet, gold-embroidered splotch in a sea of onyx black, and he wants nothing more than to remove her.

Soon. You will be back with him soon. Soon, you will be eating in that seat. You will be wearing his clothes. You will be existing in this space as you should be.

“How do you know?” your sister asks.

Feyd blinks. “It’s been three days. Enough time to have been informed of your absence and return home to confirm it,” he says. “And she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re so sure?”

He gives a single nod. “She knows me,” he replies. “She knows taking you is not out of the realm of what I would do for her.”

---

Reader POV

You know where she is. From the moment your parents were informed of her disappearance and the three of you rushed to your home planet, not a single of your seconds was wasted on juggling alternative possibilities. How it is not blatantly obvious to everyone else is a shock, but perhaps your sister’s missing presence from the palace has turned frantic minds to mush. You’re the only one who isn’t running about, searching through closets and under beds as if a grown woman is playing a child’s game.

You have to tell them. Recovering your sister cannot be a solo mission, despite how much easier that would be. Not to mention, to leave for Giedi Prime without notifying your parents would rightfully increase their panic, and no good would come of that.

So you speak his name.

They call him a demon. A monster. They curse and condemn him. How dare he demand one daughter and, after being denied, so quickly move on to stealing another. The implication that he’s taken your sister to replace you makes you ill, but to defend the love you share with him would further stir their tempers.

“You’re certain?” Your mother asks through the trembling hand covering her horrified mouth.

You meet your father’s blazing stare and try to ignore the hateful bile gathering at the corners of his lips. You nod. “I should go alone,” you tell them.

“Absolutely not.”

“He’ll listen to me. He will not be cooperative with you.”

“That creature will listen to no one!”

“I know him. His thoughts, his tactics,” you argue. “I’m the one person who can get through to him.”

To his credit, your father takes a calming breath. It can not be denied that his emotions often guide him over logic, but he’s not a man known for idiocy. He sent you to the Harkonnens, and he’s not forgotten how well you’ve been trained to learn from your environment.

“Fine,” he eventually agrees. But he does not accommodate you beyond that.

All efforts to ease his disgust for your lover fall on deaf ears. He won’t hear that Feyd hasn’t hurt your sister. He won’t believe that he hasn’t peeled her skin from her bones or starved her out of her perfectly tailored dresses. And though his eyes threaten you to surrender your conviction, to confirm his ideas and stoke the flame of his fury, you don’t give in.

Arriving at the doors of Giedi Prime’s fortress is done without guards flanking your sides. They stay on the ship. “He doesn't respond to intimidation strategies,” you tell your father. “It’s best not to storm his home with forces in tow and demand things of him.” Not lies, but you can’t say you’re honest for the sake of striking a deal without inflicting wounds on each other’s guards. True that it’s best to avoid an all-out battle, but it’s more true that your motivations are guided by seeing him again.

When you do finally see him, you see no one else. The world falls apart and you cannot tear your eyes from his face. Neither can he keep his off of you. You’re yards apart, a rooms-span away, and yet you can already feel him from the anticipation of being in his arms. You’ve been living off of the memories of his touch, and now here he is, almost within reach.

Your father is shouting, but your heartbeat thumping in your ears shields you from the full power of his voice. “You dare steal my daughter!” you think he says. “Where is she!”

Feyd ignores him. He stares still. His mouth parts. And then, with determination in his steps, he walks to you.

Before you can bask in the warmth of his looming closeness, his arm is reaching toward you, and in what seems like the blink of an eye, his palm slides across your cheek, his fingers weave with the strands of your hair, and he pulls you into a kiss.

Instantly, the long-awaited sensation threatens to kick your legs out from under you. Your bones warn of their weakening strength. Your heart briefly stops, but then beats return with a ferocity that could shame a beast in battle.

The *shing* of your father’s metal blade unsheathing is met with its sister sound from the multiple swords of Feyd’s guards. It buys you a few more seconds of holding each other, and you use those seconds to give all that you can.

Feyd knows how to kiss you. You know how to kiss each other. Though relatively tame in front of your current audience, he kisses with the promise of what his mouth would do to yours were you alone; echoes of what you shared before you were taken.

When you sense your time is about to run out, you plant your hands on Feyd’s chest, and as he cups your cheeks, you break the kiss. Your eyes find home in his.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper.

He grins ever so slightly. “They can have her,” he says. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones and he rests his forehead against yours. “But I’m keeping you.”

I’m yours is on your lips, but his body is partially jerked out of your arms before you can speak. All gentleness in your lover switches off like a light.

“Get off of my daugh–”

Your father chokes, his nails clawing at the hand around his neck.

“You don’t tell me not to touch her!” Feyd shouts with a squeeze, slowly pulling your father closer. Being inches shorter, your father must stand on his toes to keep Feyd’s grip as loose as possible, and as much as you find yourself enjoying the sight, you cannot allow it to continue.

“Feyd,” you start. As you caress his flexed bicep, you keep your tone velvety. “Feyd, let him go.” But he does not hear you. Or he does not listen. His fingers tighten. Your father’s face swells red. “Listen to me. I love you. No one is going to take me away from you. I won’t let that happen. You won’t let that happen. We will be married. We will be here, together, just you and me as we planned,” you tell him, “but I want you to let him go.”

A beat passes. Two beats. Three. Then Feyd expels the breath he’d been holding. His chest deflates, and one by one, his fingers unpeel from your father’s skin.

Your father heaves. “Y-You…” he says through his attempts to recover. His hand rubs his rapidly bruising flesh. “You are promised…to Kenric. The agreement was all but–” he coughs “–but signed.”

A growl emerges, and from your left, Feyd lunges. Your father gasps. His eyes widen as he stumbles a step backward.

“No!” You rush in front of Feyd to grab his face. Shaking your head, your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “No,” you repeat softly.

The heat in his irises soothes as he keeps his eyes on you. His arm curls around your waist, and his gaze drops to your mouth. You want to kiss him again. You almost do, but then you remember why you’re here.

You look to the nearest Harkonnen guard, one of many you’re familiar with after your time on Giedi Prime. “Bring my sister. Please.”

He glances at his Lord, who nods in response to the silent question. Then Feyd’s attention returns to you, his eyes go to your lips, and he leans in.

You struggle to care about anything other than his taste. After you were taken, you were lost to the devastation of believing your mouth and tongue and teeth would never have him again. And you’re lost now. Lost in the pleasure of those fears extinguishing. So lost that not even the echo of approaching footsteps is enough to cleave your bodies apart.

“A relief to see that clothes are still on,” your sister’s voice greets. Reluctantly, you unseal your mouth from Feyd’s to look past his shoulder at your sister. There’s an unreadable expression on her face as she watches him bury his face in your neck. Acceptance, or revulsion.

Thankfully, your father seems to have missed her comment, so focused on seeing her well and unharmed. He takes an unsteady step in her direction. “Daughter–”

The Harkonnen releases your sister from his hold and she meets your father the rest of the way. “I’m fine, father.”

“That monster–”

“Didn’t do a thing.” Her eyes flick to the hand covering his throat. One brow arches as her head turns your way. “To me.”

Your father draws her into a hug, his hand going to the back of her head. “Good. Good,” he says. “Then let us take you both home.”

A chill runs throughout your limbs. Feyd’s arms cinch around your waist. He lifts his head, his vision glazed over as his eyes prod yours. “You’re not leaving,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You are leaving,” your father intrudes, his voice dropping an octave. “You are leaving this place. You are leaving that beast.”

Your sister sighs. “Father…”

“You are returning home, and you will marry Kenric.”

A muffled noise rumbles in Feyd’s throat. Like thunder on the horizon. A threat of a storm. You press your palm against his heart to feel the beats harder, faster.

“We departed before anything was signed,” you say.

Your father stomps his foot like a petulant child. “You made a commitment!”

Your head jerks back, and suddenly, red infects your sight. Intent on approaching your father, you untangle yourself from Feyd’s arms, but fingers latch onto your wrist, keeping you from gaining significant distance. You let him hold you back.

“You made a commitment!” you snap.

“And I will keep it!”

Nails dig into your pulse point, and you know Feyd is straining against his urges as much as you are. “No,” you push. “You will walk free with one of your daughters, and the other will remain where she belongs!”

“You do not belong here!”

“Yes, I–”

“Father,” your sister repeats.

He whips around. “What!”

“Let them be,” she says.

Silence falls over the room. Feyd’s grip eases but does not disappear.

“He is selfish and stubborn and feels no guilt in how he loves her,” she continues. “I can’t say I’m interested in seeing what else he’d be willing to do to get her back should she be ripped away from him again, but I have no doubt it would be devastating. And I’m sure you would not survive twice.”

Your father’s brows dip in the center. His fist clenches. “Do not disrespect me.”

“It's not disrespect,” she says. “I would fear for you, for our people, our home. Leave her, and I will marry Kenric.”

You suck in a sharp breath.

“I have no attachments to any man. It causes me no harm to step into my sister’s place.”

“No.” Your father shakes his head. “I won’t allow it.”

“You will if you’re smart,” she replies. Tension radiates from your father, his body practically shaking where he stands. “And surely you aim to be a smart man. Surely you don’t intend to take unnecessary risks that could hurt everything our House is meant to protect.”

He opens his mouth, but the threat of humiliation is enough to shut him up. It has always been an area where he falters. Inadequacy and the fear of being looked down upon. It’s why you were marrying the son of Lord Kenric. Your House is not a weak one by many standards, but your father could not let go of the whispers among other Houses that they are stronger. He sought a match effective in showing your equals the value of his House and offspring. And blinded by his decision, there was no room for him to consider the consequences.

You watch in awe as he stands down, shrinking in the shadow of your sister’s wisdom. A smart man indeed.

When your sister nears you, she reaches out to take your hand in hers. Feyd releases you as, for the moment, his nemesis has been subdued.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell her. “I’m prepared to fight him tooth and nail.”

She lightly chuckles. “Your brute would burn down the world. This is what’s best. Safest.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'd decided on this path before you arrived,” she says.

You look for hesitation, any regret, but she’s a stone wall—sturdy in her decision—and you recognize that arguing would implant a tone of dismissiveness of her wishes.

“Thank you,” you mouth.

Your sister squeezes your fingers. She tips her head to you before she glances at Feyd. You peek over your shoulder, but his face is blank. Whatever passes between them is indecipherable—some unspoken understanding.

“Keep him in line,” she says. Then she steps away from you.

Your father glares the entire way out of the fortress, and you know you’ve severed your ties today. You’ve made a choice, picked a side, and neither he nor your mother will ever understand. Whether or not they’ve become an enemy you will learn in time, but at the very least, it is unlikely you will be welcomed into the home where you grew up. A sacrifice you accept.

As the doors close, Feyd comes up behind you. His arms circle your waist. Your back meets his chest. His lips plant on your neck. “Come to bed,” he says.

You grin.

---

A/N: thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know :)

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #austin butler #dune 2 #feyd rautha harkonnen

478 notes · View notes

hmmarble · 8 months ago

Text

HMMARBLEDESİGN - DRAGON+ (2)

Marble Bathroom Sink

When it comes to home design, few materials evoke a sense of luxury and timeless beauty quite like marble. A marble bathroom sink not only serves as a functional wash basin but also elevates the overall aesthetic of your space. The elegance of marble exudes sophistication, turning an ordinary bathroom into a serene oasis.

Marble Bathroom Sink

A marble bathroom sink is not just a functional component of your bathroom; it is a statement piece that adds elegance and luxury. Marble, known for its unique veining and rich texture, brings a timeless charm to any space. When choosing a marble bathroom sink, there are several factors to consider to ensure it complements your bathroom design.

First, consider the style of your bathroom. Whether you are going for a modern, classic, or rustic look, a marble sink can fit seamlessly into any theme. The color palette of the marble also matters; white and cream marbles can lend a fresh and airy feel, while darker hues can create a dramatic effect.

Maintenance is another important aspect to consider. While marble sinks are stunning, they do require some care to maintain their beauty. Regular sealing and careful cleaning will help prevent stains and etching, keeping your sink looking pristine over the years.

Installation is another key consideration. Marble is heavier than other materials, so ensure that your cabinet and plumbing can support your chosen marble bathroom sink. Consultation with a professional can help you navigate this aspect of your renovation.

Ultimately, a marble bathroom sink is an investment in both aesthetics and functionality. By choosing the right type, color, and maintenance plan, you can enjoy the beauty of marble in your bathroom for years to come.

Wash Basin Sink

A wash basin sink is an essential fixture in any bathroom, offering both functionality and style. When selecting a wash basin sink, it is important to consider various factors such as size, design, and material.

One popular choice among homeowners is the marble bathroom sink. Known for its elegance and durability, marble sinks can elevate the aesthetic of your bathroom. Their unique veining patterns ensure that no two sinks are alike, providing a one-of-a-kind centerpiece for your space.

When choosing a wash basin sink, you will encounter various types including undermount, vessel, and pedestal sinks. Each design has its own benefits and can enhance the overall look of your bathroom. For instance, vessel sinks are often mounted on top of the countertop, making them a stylish option that complements modern decor.

Aside from aesthetics, the wash basin sink should also offer practical features. Consider looking for a model with easy-to-clean surfaces and a design that accommodates your bathing and grooming needs. The right choice will not only enhance your bathroom’s style but also improve daily usage.

In terms of installation, make sure to consult with a professional if you are unsure. Proper installation of your wash basin sink will ensure that it functions efficiently and lasts for many years to come.

Lastly, don't forget to incorporate additional features such as stylish faucets and accessories that complement your wash basin sink and add to the overall design of your bathroom.

Ancient Roman Baths

The Ancient Roman Baths were an essential aspect of Roman culture, reflecting the importance of hygiene, social interaction, and relaxation in ancient society. These baths, also known as thermae, were large public bathing complexes that served as a social hub for citizens of all classes.

Typically, the layout of a Roman bath included a series of rooms with varying temperatures and functions. The caldarium (hot bath) heated the water through a sophisticated system of hypocaust, allowing steam to rise and warm the space. Next to it was the tepidarium (warm bath), which served as a transitional room, and the frigidarium (cold bath), where bathers would plunge into cooler waters to invigorate their bodies.

In addition to hygiene, these baths featured amenities such as libraries, gymnasiums, and gardens, encouraging a sense of community and leisure. Romans often visited to socialize, conduct business, or simply enjoy the art and architecture that adorned these luxurious facilities. The decorative mosaics and grand columns were not only functional but also represented the wealth and sophistication of the society.

The significance of the Ancient Roman Baths can also be seen in their architectural innovation. The Romans mastered the use of concrete and arches, allowing for grand open spaces and intricate designs. These structures have inspired modern spa designs, embodying the idea of relaxation and wellness.

Despite their popularity, the fall of the Roman Empire led to the decline of these spectacular sites. Many were repurposed, and their intricate plumbing systems fell into disrepair. However, remnants of these ancient baths still surface in archaeological sites, offering a glimpse into a fascinating aspect of Roman life.

Today, while we may not indulge in the same communal bathing practices, the legacy of the Ancient Roman Baths endures. Their emphasis on hygiene and social engagement continues to influence how we design our own spaces for relaxation and community interaction.

461 notes · View notes

ilium-ilia · 4 days ago

Text

Daughters with Soft Underbellies

john price x fem!reader | cowboy/outlaw x preachers daughter | masterlist

Chapter Nine: ichthys

tw: arguing, religious talk

“I think I’m hungover.”

Soap’s voice is hoarse and gravelly as he pokes at his can of beans with his spoon. The night did not fare well for him in terms of healing, as his left eye has swollen a considerable amount through his slumber, dotting his skin with a deep purple and hyacinth blue. His grumbling is drowned out by Riley’s crass chuckle.

“Reckon your headache is more from all the fists you tried kissin’ last night, not the alcohol,” he teases.

“At least I didn’t get my lip split open.”

“Still can’t believe you all managed to get into trouble without me,” Kyle huffs, feigning hurt emotions as he sips on his coffee.

Soap grins. “That’s what you get for leaving early, Garrick.”

While the men compare the wounds they obtained from the night before, you sit in eerie silence as your fingertips prod at your lower lip. Though the events at the saloon feel as if they happened ages ago, you still feel the sordidity of it all taint you. Teeth in flesh. Hands on your waist. A content hum into your jaw. Not even a good night’s sleep is able to cleanse it all from your mind. It lingers like the sting of a stick on your knuckles—like the acidulous bite of words from your father.

The only thing strong enough to pull your attention from it is John’s unwavering gaze from across the dying morning fire.

“You’re quiet today, Lamb,” he casually notes.

Looking up from your hardtack, you muster a small smile. “Just tired,” you dismiss.

It’s not an entire lie. Your sleep was far from restful as you were intermittently interrupted with strange dreams and an overall anxiety from the man who forced himself on you. Really, you’re not sure you’ve had any proper repose since you left your sleepy little Penmosa.

John nods, but the lingering incredulity in his gaze screams that he doesn’t fully believe you. “We’ll be at Grand Hollow in a few days. We’ll get you in a proper bed in no time, little lamb.”

You hum in agreement as your teeth crack into the salty hardtack that dusts your palms—you’re unsure if a soft bed will be enough to quell the aches in both your body and mind, but for now you decide to take his word for it.

Camp is packed up and stored away within a few minutes, and there is no sign that anyone was here besides the smouldering remnants of the fire at your feet. The men are quiet as you ride along wild, untraveled terrain. Their aches buzz through their bodies loud enough for even you to hear over the soft trampling of the horses’ hooves. As you trot along, you notice that John gives Little Wood a wide berth instead of traveling through the heart of town—you imagine he isn’t too keen on treading through the very place he and the boys caused trouble in only a couple hours before.

Your new hat offers excellent cover from the sun dancing well above you. Without golden rays blinding you, you find yourself squinting less often, and you’re fully able to enjoy the bosky land in all its verdant glory. Lush trees bloom in the distance by the time the group hits the trail again, and the moisture in the grass is so thick you can feel the water condensing on your skin in thick droplets. Even Jester whines, uncomfortable with the sweat permeating through his thick hide.

There is little reprieve to be found as the pack travels into the woods, slicing through thick bellied trees as you keep close to the trail. A playful zephyr toys with Jester’s mane, causing him to wiggle his head with a pleased huff. Deciding to join him, you knock your hat back until it’s hanging by the cord around your throat, and you hum as the wind cools your sweat-soaked brow.

Just as your stomach begins to growl, Soap eagerly points out the sight of a lake. Crystalline azure cuts through the fallen trees and berry bushes, and your ears perk enough to hear the faint sound of water lapping at the edges of a shore. None of the horses enjoy trampling over the bramble—Jester, least of all, who you have to coo to in order to convince him not to buck you off when a branch brushes against his stomach—but they are pleasantly surprised when you drop them off to enjoy the algid water of the lake.

It’s one of the largest lakes you’ve ever seen, spanning for at least a few miles in diameter. The water is clear enough for you to make out curious fish darting through the water as they nibble at wild undergrowth and algae. Kyle eagerly retrieves a folded up fishing pole from his saddle pack, all while muttering something about trying the far side of the lake before vanishing into the wilderness. John does the same, though he doesn’t wander too far from the group while Riley and Soap prepare a fire for lunch.

With his pants rolled up well above his knees and his shoes and socks discarded along the shore, John wades out into the water with his fishing pole in hand. You watch his muscles bulge through the cotton of his shirt as he rears his arms back, then flicks the pole forward, casting the line far towards the center of the lake where the fish roam in quieter waters.

Closing your eyes, you bask in the obstructed sunlight as nature crescendos around you. Robins chatter as they hop between branches; geese honk as they soar through the air high above your head; a bumble bee rests in a patch of wildflowers next to a fallen log. It’s a far cry from the wailing of cows and bleating of sheep you’re accustomed to in Penmosa. It reminds you of the picnics your mother used to take you on when you were little—very little.

Before she got sick.

Before she was put in the ground.

“The water is nice, Lamb. You ought to join.”

John’s invitation catches you by surprise, and your eyes flutter open. Your surroundings feel too bright all of a sudden. Everything fluoresces beneath saffron rays, and a sudden wave of lassitude hits you worse than the back of a hand. Thinking that dousing yourself with a fair amount of water might be a good idea to keep you awake, you find yourself kicking your shoes off, stockings along with them.

The lake water is brisk against your bare feet, but you grit your teeth and bear the sensation as you roll your pantalets up and hold your skirt above your knees. The sun has warmed the more shallow parts of the water, but you feel the depths grow more algid as you wade out as far as your clothes will allow.

“Still tired?” John asks.

He stands a good couple of feet in front of you. You slosh your legs through the water to remind him how close you are. “A little,” you concede.

“I reckon all the excitement from last night made it hard to get any good sleep,” he muses. “You’re not still thinking too much about what happened at the saloon, are you?”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You haven’t realized how dry they’ve gotten since you’ve left home. “A little, maybe. I don’t know. It’s all frustrating.”

John hums, then falls quiet when he feels something pull on the line. He begins to reel, and the ticking sound of the rod drowns out the flies buzzing along the waterline, but then curses when he feels the fish go free.

“Well, he won’t be bothering you again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he sighs. It takes him only a short moment to reset his cast, flinging his pole as hard as he can so that the hook goes flying.

“I’m not really worried about it as much as I’m just… well…” You cut yourself off with a huff. “Well, my life just isn’t really going the way I planned.”

“Is that so?” John asks with a poorly hidden chuckle.

“No,” you say tartly. Your eyes pierce daggers through the back of his head, and you pray he can feel the burn. “When I was a kid, I always figured I would have been married by now. I’d be settled down, I’d have a kid or two to tend to. Someone to love. Someone to love me.”

Looking over his shoulder, John throws you a cheeky smirk. “Someone to go to church with every Sunday?”

You hold back the urge of rolling your eyes. “I guess.”

Once again, your tongue wets your lips, and as you wiggle your toes in the muck of the lake bottom, you feel acrid bile bubble in your stomach. Teeth dug into this very same lip last night. You wonder if that bone has the feeling of your mouth memorised just as much as your flesh does.

“But after last night, I’m starting to think that’s never going to happen,” you admit, and though you are wary of John’s snippy response, you find yourself not caring too much about it.

“What? That you’d ever find yourself in some godly matrimony?” he goads.

“That I’d ever find myself in love at all,” you correct with a snap.

This frustration is new. It feels foreign as it bubbles beneath your skin and lurks in your joints. As your fists tighten around the fabric of your dress, you wonder if this is how your father feels. You wonder if this is the very same emotion that drives him into doing what he does best—hate.

“Daddy’s always displeased with me. I know you think I’m stupid, but I’m well aware that a good father doesn’t beat his child,” you say, forcing your anger to melt away as your tone takes on something more somber. “I don’t want love because it’s what’s Godly, or what I think Daddy wants, because I know he couldn’t care less, I just… I want it because I always thought it was going to save me.”

John nods his head as if he understands you. His body twists in the water, keeping his pole straight over the lake, yet his torso turned to you. The brim of his hat shades his eyes from what little sun pokes through the trees, but his irises illuminate through the darkness. Their color is comparable to the lake water kissing your ankles, and you find your tongue aching for the refreshment.

“Love is powerful, little lamb. It can make smart people do stupid things. It can bring a nation to its knees. But if it’s salvation you want, I’m afraid you only have yourself to count on,” he shares bluntly. “Not even your god is strong enough for that.”

Eyes narrowing at John, he jerks his head away from your gaze the moment something tugs on his rod, and this time he’s able to keep them on the line. Expert hands reel in the fish with sharp tugs, and it isn’t long before John’s pulling a small, flat sunfish from the water. It wiggles and writhes on the line, but the hook curves through its cheek too violently to free itself.

“God offers salvation,” you correct. “He sent His son for us.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, don’t get that twisted in your sweet head. Your god didn’t do shit for you.”

John’s crass words shock you to your very core, and for a moment you find yourself at a loss of a response. His fingers weave the hook out of the fish’s mouth before he begins to walk past you. Each step he takes sends water splashing around his knees until a few drops manage to soak your skirt.

“Jesus Christ died on the cross to absolve everyone of their sins!” you say just as he reaches the shore.

“That boy died on the cross because his daddy told him to,” John chuckles sourly. Holding the fish by its tail, he leans his pole against the fallen log before retrieving a rock from near his feet. “If it weren’t for his all-powerful father telling him to kill himself, he would have much rather lived. He never would have died if that cruel man hadn’t demanded it. That’s not love. That’s dictatorship and self obsession.”

Your eyes widen so far you fear they might pop free from your skull. “What?”

After placing the sunfish against the log, John raises the rock over his head, and just like Cain did to his brother Abel, he crushes the fish’s skull in with a single blow. No longer flopping, he’s now free to cut it behind its gills, letting it bleed slowly and without pain.

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me,” John quotes with bile. He stares down at the dead fish before wiping the blade of his knife on his thigh. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Still standing in the shallow water, you stare at John with parted lips. Your eyes flicker to the gore on the log for only a short moment before you’re looking back up at him. “I didn’t realize you knew The Bible.”

Foggy eyes land on you as John brings his attention away from the fish. “Go dry off by the fire. Take a nap, if you can manage it. Don’t need you falling asleep on the back of your horse while we’re trying to ride.”

The fire is a pitiful thing. Made of nothing more than mere twigs and tiny sticks, it doesn’t exude much heat, but you suppose it doesn’t have to. Riley and Soap keep tending to it as you nestle yourself against the trunk of a tree, feet faced towards the flames. Sleep takes you for only a little while before you’re roused awake with a display of dead, gutted fish waiting to be cooked and eaten.

Kyle informs you that most of what they’ve caught are bluegills, and you’re impressed at their flaky texture and tangy flavor. They’re not like the fish you’re used to the local anglers back in Penmosa catching, though you doubt you’ve ever eaten any fish this fresh in your life. You pick at the flesh with your fingers and shove bite after bite onto your tongue. It melts. Rich oils disperse along your tastebuds, and you find yourself humming, content.

“Can’t wait to get to Grand Hollow,” Soap muses halfway through lunch.

“You’re just thinking about Lottie’s food, aren’t you?” Kyle teases.

“Might be,” Soap grins. He lets the comment sit for a moment before he’s tilting his head. “I bet I know what you’re thinking about.”

Unconvinced, he raises a brow. “Oh?”

“Don’t play dumb, Garrick. It’s written all over your face. You’re excited to get back to Sofia, aren’t you?”

Kyle attempts to retort, but the moment he opens his mouth it snaps back shut again. Chewing on the inside of his tongue, he shoves a bite of bluegill past his lips before palming at the back of his neck.

“Aye, look at him, all bashful like a school boy,” Soap says with a roaring laugh.

Innocently blinking back and forth between the two men, you wiggle your toes as the fire roasts them. “Who’s Sofia?”

“Oh, just some girl he’s sweet on,” Soap says flippantly.

“I am not,” Kyle defends.

“Sure, it’s why you always wander off to the bakery while we’re there—because you’re not sweet on her.”

The two men bicker back and forth for a short while, leaving you to giggle and titter while you toss aside cleaned bones and stray scales. While they take turns stabbing each other with words, you find your mind wandering as the fire captures your attention.

Grand Hollow. The Twin Rose.

It’s on the way to Blackpeak, which is where we’re headed.

“So, after we’re done in Grand Hollow, what do you guys plan to do in Blackpeak?”

Your question reverberates like a gunshot. It silences the four men around you, and yet none of their eyes dart to you. Riley pokes at the fire with a twig, Soap and Kyle continue to eat—but John looks at you with a hum as he shoves his thumb in his mouth to suck it clean.

“There’s nothing for you in Blackpeak. You’re staying in Grand Hollow,” he says nonchalantly.

“Well, I know that. But when we first met, you said that you all were headed there, and I guess I’m just curious as to why you would want to go to a place where the law wants you,” you explain cautiously. “At least, that’s what Mr. Beckett said… that you’re wanted in Blackpeak.”

John’s tongue swipes along the front of his teeth; you can see the way it moves his lips as they prod against them. “Well, that’s none of your business, now is it, sweetheart?”

His blatantly sharp tone kills the curiosity in your heart, and you find yourself huffing. Shame should be poking at your heart, but for once you feel nothing of the sort. “I suppose you’re right. Nothing you do concerns me at all, John Price.”

After you’re finished with lunch, your small, makeshift camp is quickly swept away so that everyone can hit the road again. Jester still dislikes walking through overgrown bushes (despite the obnoxiously tall legs he has to carry himself with) but you fare better exiting than you did entering.

The next three days are grueling. It consists of nothing but early mornings, and late evenings, with short breaks to eat in between. Jester’s saddle rubs the insides of your thighs until you’re sore, and you find angry welts building on the tender skin. The thin cotton of your pantalets offers little comfort compared to the men’s jeans and riding gear, and by the second day you find yourself so desperate that you place a blanket over the saddle to try to comfort your angry skin. It does little—if anything at all—but you tell yourself it’s better than nothing.

Everyone is quiet for the most part as you wander along the trail, except for short conversations every now and then. Sometime’s Soap will hum a song in a language that sounds old and dead, but otherwise everyone leaves the talking to the coyotes.

Your mind does plenty of talking, though. Ideas and lost conversations weave through your brain as you stare at the dusty road ahead. You think of your father and the last supper you had together; you think of the moon; but mostly, you think of John.

It’s uncomfortable to admit how often you think of him—how his words echo in your mind as if your skull is a cavern made only to repeat what you hate to hear. You think of his words at the lake, and his vagarious behavior. In one moment, you’ll have the wolf nudging at the palm of your hand to lap at you with wet tongue—the next, he’s nipping at your wrist as if you struck him.

In the end, you always seem to recall the scars that dance along his spine. The way they sprawl out like limbs on a tree along his back, slicing through his shoulders and along his flank. Every now and then, you’ll catch him pawing at the back of his neck, and you’ll see pink, raised skin peek out from above the collar of his shirt. A part of you expected them to fade since the last time you saw them in that abandoned barn.

They’ve done no such thing.

In the early morning on day four, you notice the path you travel grows more firm. Fixed with wooden boards, or even stone in some cases, there are less tree roots for Jester to trample over and no rocks for him to get stuck in his hooves. There are countless small towns that you quickly blow through, but John doesn’t seem to care about stopping at any of them despite your voiced discomfort.

You quickly learn why that is as lamp posts begin to line your path as your trail slowly morphs into a proper road. It’s wider than any other you’ve ever seen, and your eye catches carriages for both transport and luxury being pulled by large, shire horses. You take note of strangers with well kept suits and women with dresses larger than you’ve ever seen with frilly hats to match.

Just as you open your mouth to ask where you’re at, you see it. It looms just up the road on a big oak board adorned with paint and the neatest script you’ve ever seen.

Welcome to Grand Hollow the Golden Heart of the United States

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates | early access to chapters here

#ilium writing #jp ilia #dwsu #john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #female reader

162 notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

NEEDLE IN THE HAY

18+ / mdi

summary: after swearing off dating due to a messy breakup, wonwoo finds himself being forced out of the house by mingyu, joining the 97 squad as an honorary member. what wonwoo didn't realize, however, was that he'd end up swallowing his words after meeting the newest addition to the friend group.

content: idol!wonwoo x idol!reader, pining, friends to lovers, wonwoo's pov, reader is a 97 liner, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, angst (with a happy ending), some self-deprecating thoughts from wonu </3

wc: 8.5k

a/n: can u guys tell i love idol aus or what .. anyways, this time i used proper capitalization since this is long as fuck! hope u enjoy even if its a bit of a mess <3

masterlist kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

Wonwoo was going through a slump.

As commonly known by his fans (and probably non fans too, by now), Wonwoo had a girlfriend prior to debuting. He's not entirely sure how the news came about to the public (something about a trainee leaking information ..?), but in reality that didn't really matter. What mattered now was that he now had to relive his messy breakup over and over again as people made it a bit of a 'meme' among the fandom. It wasn't like it made it to the news or anything, but even the reminder was enough to bring back the bad memories surrounding it. All the low self-esteem and doubtfulness that was attached to it. The breakup might've been distant by now, but the news breaking out were fresh, causing Wonwoo's wounds to reopen.

Now, Wonwoo didn't blame carats for this. Under any other circumstance he would've also found it comedic, but after it being a few years since the breakup and not managing to find a long-term relationship ever since, Wonwoo found himself in a slump once more, just like he felt when he was freshly broken up.

She, who shall not be named, was one of his closest friends in grade school. She hung around when he was nothing more than a lanky loser (not his words, but that of a few rowdy kids at school). She'd seen him and respected him before the world even knew his name. And then she'd become more than a friend.

As Wonwoo first made the decision to join Pledis, he was entirely unsure of himself. He wasn't untalented by absolutely any means, that much even he knew. He was growing to be a handsome young man, and was discovering new skills every day. But he didn't feel like he stood out enough to make it all the way to debut. His girlfriend, however, stood by him and gave him the strength to continue, which he did in hopes of making not only his family proud, but what he believed to be the love of his life proud too. Okay, maybe that was a bit too much, but he was a teenager, who could blame him for thinking himself in love?

Soon after came his debut. Things were going great. The sole fact that he had made it to debut with 12 of his friends and fellow trainees had him over the moon. He had fans now; supporters who thought the world of him. He had a happy family waiting for him at home, and a girl he was infatuated with that he could keep all to himself, away from the public eye. Everything was perfect. Until it wasnt.

It was as predictable as you'd imagine. The fame, the limelights, the constantly-changing schedules. It was all too much for someone who could do no more than watch from the sidelines. The issues began a few years into his debut. He felt her begin to pull away. To be fair, he might've unconsciously pulled away first, but his life was getting too hectic for things to be the same as before. Maybe it was his fault for believing that she would evolve along with his life, willing to follow him as he continued his journey with his 12 friends.

If that had been the end, maybe it would've been okay. But the breakup had not happened just yet. We could've stayed friends if we had only ended it there, he'd thought many times. Unfortunately for Wonwoo, a clean break just was not in his cards. He found out about it through his younger brother. The betrayal. The disrespect. The heartbreak. He would've rathered she'd broken his heart face to face, you know? Maybe that way it wouldn't have hurt years into the future as it continued to do.

She had found someone else. It was some guy she met in college (something Wonwoo thought he'd do someday, but had chosen the life of an artist instead). There was nothing wrong with the guy, it just wasn't Wonwoo. He thought that maybe if she'd told him, he would've understood, would've been sad, but would've respected her decision, but no, she made her choice. Had she forgotten to break up with him beforehand? Was he just an afterthought? These were the questions that plagued Wonwoo's mind years after the fact. He had decided to confront her with what his brother had seen. Them together at a cafe, too close for comfort. What was saddest was her lack of denial. She didn't even fight back; fight for him. She had turned it around into his fault. As if he'd forced her hand. What broke Wonwoo more than the betrayal was the look of disdain in her eyes. It made him feel like maybe he was the villain. That maybe even if he tried, he just couldn't be loved in that way.

That's how he found himself in this situation. Two years past the five year long relationship, coming across another post detailing a theory of whether or not Wonwoo was still with his 'pre-debut girlfriend', as people liked to call her. He believed himself to be over the girl, but couldn't find himself to admit whether or not he was over the hurt. Only time would tell, he guessed.

"Come on, hyung. You can't stay here every time you have one of your episodes. It's been years, you have to move on!"

Mingyu was getting ready for another outing with his famous 97 squad; this time the attendees being Eunwoo, Jungkook, and Y/N. He was trying, yet again, to convince his elder of joining him and his friends. Maybe he wasn't a 97-liner, but he was well-liked by all the members of the group, and he figured the outing would do his friend some good, seeing as he was once again down in the dumps over his old girlfriend.

"I told you it's not that, Mingyu," responded Wonwoo, barely facing away from his computer, once again gaming during his very limited free time.

"Okay, if you're truly not sad about that anymore, then come out with us! It's been a while since you've even left the apartment, and you've never actually accepted any of my invites out! If you don't like it, we'll leave. It's all people you've already met anyways," reasoned, a very stubborn Mingyu.

"I don't actually know any of them, Gyu. Saying hello whenever they come visit you doesn't really count as knowing a person."

"Okay! Fine! What do you want? What do I have to give to get my best friend to hang out with me? Money? You're rich! What? You wanna play video games? They like video games, too! Come. On. Just this once."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, knowing his friend meant well, but not wanting to be around people while he had one of his usual slumps.

He pondered it for a minute. Maybe it'd be nice to be with other people like him. He'd never really made friends within the industry outside of the members and a few people he'd politely nod to as he walked the hallways of Hybe. Maybe it was time he broke out of his shell and befriended other people who would understand the loneliness that came with being an idol.

"Fine," he replied before his friend could hit him with another rebuttal to his denials. "Just this once."

Wonwoo didn't know what he was expecting any time Mingyu would bring up his outings with the 97's. With Mingyu's extroverted and eccentric personality, both in and out of the public eye, he assumed he meant clubbing or at least hitting up a pub. He wasn't sure what you or Jungkook or Eunwoo were into, but he assumed you'd be somewhat like Mingyu. But he couldn't have been more wrong.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that his loud friend's friends all had a very striking contrast to him. The three idols sitting around him in Eunwoo's (whose name was actually Dongmin, apparently) apartment all seemed very quiet and calm. Their personalities also all seemed to match his better than that of Mingyu's, which made him come to the realization that maybe that was how they'd all befriended each other; through the overgrown puppy's incessant need to befriend everyone in every room he walked into.

Wonwoo appreciated Mingyu, truly. His outgoing nature would sometimes make a shy guy like Wonwoo, who liked to keep himself as small as possible, a little uneasy at times, but be appreciated his best friend's constant aid in getting Wonwoo's mood up. Even now. He hated to admit it, but his sudden decrease in mood seemed to be rapidly disappearing thanks to the new change of environment.

He had quickly taken a liking to Mingyu's three friends.

Dongmin was nice and insightful. A pretty face and a very interesting mind. He saw a bit of himself in him.

Jungkook was polite and funny. He was the perfect balance of childhood friend and college heartrob.

You. Well, Wonwoo hadn't quite figured you out yet. Admittedly, this had been the first time you'd ever spoken past a polite greeting or an inquiry for Mingyu's whereabouts, but he had been able to get a read for the other two members of the group. You were the outlier.

What he knew, though, was that he liked you. Okay, not like that, but there was an easiness that you seemed to carry with you. You were simply easy for him to fall into conversation with. It had already been a few hours (and a few drinks) since Wonwoo and Mingyu had arrived to Dongmin's apartment, and you and Wonwoo had been engaged in ongoing conversation shortly after arriving. And the conversation didn't seem to be heading towards its end any time soon. It had begun as a group outing (well, indoors), but to Wonwoo it now felt like a one-on-one, as the three remaining members of the 97's seemed distracted on their own, leaving you and Wonwoo to converse with each other freely.

"Okay, yeah. That can be kind of annoying, but how can you complain about Mingyu?! He's such a sweet guy," you laughed, responding to one of the many lighthearted disses of Mingyu Wonwoo had been feeding you with.

"You don't have to live with him. He's even louder at home," he chuckled.

"Then move out! I live alone now, finally. I love my members, but there's nothing as nice as being alone after coming home from hectic schedules."

"Yeah, I can imagine. Can't do that, though. I don't really like being alone that much," he revealed.

"You? Really? Then how come it's taken Mingyu this long to get you out of the house?," you inquired, leaning towards him with interest.

That was something he liked about you immediately. You listened. You showed visible interest in what he had to say. Granted, none of the things you'd been talking about thus far were groundbreaking (so far you'd managed to speak of predebut stories, hopes for your respective groups, current hobbies, a few movie and book recommendations here and there, and endless other things), but he still appreciated someone outside of his family and members who showed interest in what he had to say. Still, part of him believed he might've been so starved for affection he could've just been reading too much into it.

"Oh," he chuckled. "He told you about that?"

"Fuck. Okay, don't tell him I said this. And I mean it, I trust you, Wonwoo," you paused. "He told us he'd been trying to get you out of the house a bit ... that you'd been feeling down."

Oh. Okay, now he felt a bit awkward. Why would Mingyu give opening for him to receive pity even from strangers?

"Oh. I-"

"So, I insisted he invited you come out with us."

Oh?

"You did? I .. How come?"

"Well. Honestly? I've been there. Having your members is great and all. And if you have a supportive family, that's even better. But our lifestyle's too isolated to not have as many people around us as we can. I don't know how I managed to navigate the industry before meeting Mingyu. He really took me under his wing and made sure I felt welcomed with the other 97's, even with all the shit he got for hanging out with a female idol so publicly."

So, that's how you'd met. Man, he's always known Mingyu as one of the nicest people he's ever met, but this truly made him take the cake. He remembered the articles that came out about both you him (and a few of the other 97-liners) when they'd made you the first female addition to the friend group. He didn't pay them much mind, seeing as dating rumours come by the dozens among idols, but he hadn't really stopped to think about how it might've affected you.

"Did he tell you about .. why I kept saying no?"

"No. And I didn't want to intrude. Your battles are your own, Wonwoo, unless you want to share them."

Well, fuck. He was wrong. Well, right. Both. You did care. You didn't even know him, but you still cared. Or at least it seemed like it. He couldn't really wrap his head around the concept. He hadn't let anyone in (other than his 12 brothers) about what had happened. He had never felt the need to. He felt embarrassed by it. I mean, it was just a break up; an old one no one even knew about. Yes, he got cheated on, but it had been years ago. He should be over it by now. Even though people kept bringing his ex up. But why did he feel like he could confide in you?

He considered it. Telling you, that is. But he quickly realized that was just the alcohol talking. You had just met. He didn't want to scare you away. Hmm. Maybe he should circle back on this thought at some point. He also didn't want to make you privy to the most embarrassing thing about him (the green room shenanigans did not hold a candle to his pathetic heartbreak story if he had anything to say about it). So, he decided to save it for another time. He'd already decided in his head that he'd want to see you again. Maybe he would take up Mingyu on his offer to join the 97's as an honorary member.

The conversation eventually circled back to something more lighthearted, allowing Wonwoo to enjoy your company for a few more hours before Mingyu decided it was time for them to leave, knowing his friends probably had busy days tomorrow, just like any idol would.

Wonwoo couldn't sleep. The effects of the alcohol were fully gone by now; his loose tongue tightened back up and his mood regulated once again. Despite that, his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He had originally chalked it up to alcohol, how he felt a strange sense of disappointed upon having to bid his goodbye to you earlier tonight. But, lying in bed many hours later, he realized it was all still in his head. Your long-winded conversation, the drinks you shared together, the genuine care in your eyes, even Mingyu's stupid smirk as they walked back into their apartment, muttering something along the lines of 'I knew you'd have fun'. It was all still running around in his head, depriving him of sleep. He felt an odd sense of anxiousness. Excitement, maybe? He wasn't sure. He was looking forward to finding out though.

The next day was filled with schedules. A quick appearance at a comeback show in the morning, followed by a fitting back at the Hybe building, along with a few hours of practice with the boys. He'd always enjoyed hectic days like this. While tiring, they kept his mind occupied, and allowed him to spend the day with some of the people he treasured the most. Seeing carats early in the morning was also a treat. Even if for only a few minutes, walking past the crowd of people waiting for his arrival at MNET was always nice. It made him put a face (well, multiple) to the people who loved him most.

He was now ending his day, just as soon as it had started, when he heard a voice call to him from across the long hallway. Turning around, he found ... you? you! what were you doing here?

"Wonwoo! Wait up!", you quickly caught up to him as he halted his movements in order to wait for you. You two then began walking together.

"Hey ? What are you doing here?"

You stopped. "Really? Wonwoo! I work here? My group's been here for a few months now, did you never notice? Hybe acquired my company last year," despite your shock at his ignorance, there was no actual anger or annoyance in your voice.

He felt kind of bad. You'd spent grand part of last night letting Wonwoo know how much attention you'd paid to Mingyu's retellings of Wonwoo's problems only for him to not know the most basic of things about you. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was with small details like this that his ex began to pull away.

"Oh, wait, Wonwoo. I'm not actually mad, I'm sorry. I just assumed you already knew," his face must've told on him. He had to admit that he was kind of paranoid after what had happened. He'd already ruined a few friendships (along with the relationship) with his lack of attention to the people around him. He didn't want to add you to the list of failed relationships so soon.

"Ah. Sorry. I don't really keep track of those things too often. I'm too distracted sometimes."

"I get you. There's too many new groups at Hybe for you to have noticed anyway. Anyways! Are you done for the day?"

He felt his heart accelerate at the thought of you wanting to know what his future whereabouts would be.

"Uh, yeah. I was heading home actually?"

"What? Nooo! Mingyu's taking Jungkook and I out to a little discreet pub he knows. You should come with. Please. They're so annoying when Dongmin's missing," you pleaded, making eyes at him.

You wanted him to come? You were inviting him? He hadn't really gone out for a few weeks (since he began to see people speak of his 'pre-debut ex-girlfriend' that everyone assumed was still in the picture). He had to admit, he found it kind of funny how carats would whine at the idea of him being taken. That was kind of the silver lining; a slight lift to his bad mood surrounding it. He-

"Wonwoo? It's okay if you don't wanna come. I don't wanna pressure you!"

Oh, shit. He was in his head again. He needed to break these habits if he wanted to work on his people skills.

"Oh, sorry. No, I was thinking of something else, sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, "I .. yeah, I'd love to come," he found himself agreeing.

Wonwoo was not an awkward man by any means. His fans and many others knew him as a charming guy, which he really was. He was just going through a weird period in his life. That and you made him nervous for some reason.

"Great,"you smiled back at him, further increasing the speed of his heart.

Wonwoo was extra exhausted after today's events, not being used to outings with people outside of his members after already tiresome days. For some reason, his social battery always drained almost immediately when around people he wasn't too familiar with, and tonight he'd chosen to spend the night at a pub full of strangers. But, hey, at least you were there.

Once more, you and Wonwoo found yourselves in one-on-one conversation. Although Mingyu had been slightly surprised to see his friend arrive with you at the selected meeting spot at the pub, he gave Wonwoo a knowing smile, glad to have his friend out of the house once again.

The goodbye was, again, dreadful for Wonwoo. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't usually someone to get attached so easily, but your name just called to his ever since that first time he met you. This time had worsened his condition. You drank together, exchanged numbers, maybe even flirted(?) a little, and then went your own ways, sharing a quick hug as you departed.

He hated to rush things (even if it was only in his head), but he had to admit to himself that he liked you. Yeah, like that. He felt like a teenager again; giddy at the thought of you, crushing on the pretty girl his friend introduced him to. He had unofficially sworn off dating two years ago when he broke up with her, but it wasn't like that was too big of an effort considering his dating market as an idol wasn't very expansive anyways. He also didn't want to assume things. You were just a friend. But you were also so pretty, and nice, and you had so much in common with him, you even shared a career! You were just his type, he realized. He wondered why you hadn't dated any of the 97's before. Wait, maybe you had a boyfriend. One Wonwoo, of course, wouldn't know about since you'd just met. Fuck. There he went again, letting his mind spiral over the smallest of things. He needed to give himself a break and just enjoy your friendship. Enjoy the good things he had instead of thinking of the bad. That had been a struggle lately.

You and Wonwoo continued to meet occasionally like that. Eventually meeting almost daily at the company. You'd stop by his practice room to hang out during work, and vice versa. He also found himself begging Mingyu to let him join in on his outings, wanting to see you even after work. He tried to be casual about it, but as soon as his smug friend realized the reason behind Wonwoo's sudden interest, he teased him endlessly about it, making jokes like 'But you're a 98-liner, why would you wanna hang out with us kids?,' a smirk glued to his face. He hadn't told Mingyu about his crush (nor would he ever admit to it), but Mingyu's correct assumption of his feelings for you led his friend to try and become a bit of a matchmaker. He'd now taken a habit to purposely leaving you and Wonwoo alone, even dragging his other friends away when they'd try and make conversation in order to get the two of you together. He was embarrassed by this, but was even more embarrassed that he was kind of thankful for his friend's actions.

Wonwoo had been enjoying the time he got to spend with you alone. Like now. Mingyu had invited you, Dongmin, Jungkook and Jaehyun over to his (and Wonwoo's place), something that didn't tend to happen before since Mingyu had wanted to respect Wonwoo's privacy. This was your first time here. Your first time in Wonwoo's room (door open, of course) as he showed you some of his recent photography that he'd told you about in your previous meeting. Once more, he felt like a teenager as he showed you his art, giddy at your endless compliments towards his talent.

"Jesus. So many idols pick up photography as a hobby, but I'd never seen any of them be actually good at it. Wonwoo, these are amazing!", he heard compliments like this from fans and staff alike very often, but it just had a different effect when it came from you.

He wanted to deny you; be bashful about it and chuckle a polite disagreement to your compliment, but after getting to know you better these past few weeks, he knew that wouldn't fly with you, instead opting for a shy 'thank you' in response.

"I'm serious, Wonwoo. You should do a showing or something! Your fans would love it. And .. you should teach me also!", he loved how enthusiastic you always were. It reminded him a lot of his best friend. Maybe that's why he liked the both of you so much.

He turned his head to face you as you sat next to him on his bed, lap to lap. He hadn't realized how close you had been sitting to one another in order to look at his laptop screen. Before he could scoot away, you turned your head too, now having only a few inches between your faces.

You looked at each other without saying anything, Wonwoo's breath hitching. Any reasonable man would've pulled you in for a kiss as soon as he noticed your eyes trail down to his lips, clearly inciting him to do so. But Wonwoo wasn't a very reasonable man. He was a mess of unreasonable emotions, which led him to his first mistake.

Seeing as he wasn't doing anything, you seemed to become frustrated at his lack of action, leaning in instead of him. Now, that would've been perfect if Wonwoo were, you know, normal. But the end result was less than favorable. As you leaned in, he panicked, getting up from the bed in a rush and creating a very obvious space between you. Your eyes widened, and he caught a hint of hurt and embarrassment behind them at his actions before you quickly took control of your expression.

"I, uhh. It's getting late. You have an early morning, don't you?", fuck, why the hell was he saying that?! Was he kicking you out? Wonwoo kicked himself in his mind, but his mouth kept running against his will. "I have an early morning, maybe you should, uh .."

He caught that hurt in your eyes once more as you responded. "Oh, I .. Right. Sorry .. Yes, I do, actually. I should go now .. Thanks for showing me your pictures. Have a nice night, Wonwoo," you were being far too cordial with him, seemingly making it a point of using overly formal language when the two of you had agreed before to speak casually; as friends.

He fucked it up. Again.

He watched you leave without stopping you. He had every chance to as you looked back at him one more time before exiting his room. He had another chance as he heard you close the front door to his apartment. He could've ran after you (even speed-walking would've sufficed, really), but he stood there like an idiot.

Wonwoo was right. He was incapable of love. Romantic love, at least. He still had many friends and a loving family back home, but he had been right to believe himself unlovable after his ex had left him. Turns out she was right. It was all his fault.

A few weeks had gone by since he last saw you. The text messages between you now unexistent, and the chance for reconciliation dying further every passing day. You hadn't tried to contact him after what happened, nor did you wait outside his practice room every day as you had taken a habit of doing a few weeks into your friendship. Mingyu's invites to hang out with his friends were now left unattended by Wonwoo, not wanting to sour your free time with your friends with his presence. He'd ruined everything, he admitted to himself. It was obvious to him and everyone else that your friendship had begun to blossom into something more. There had been hints here and there of your reciprocation of his feelings, but they terrified him, so he chose to ignore them.

He thought about his feelings, but not yours, he had come to realize a few days after the fact.

He had wanted to kiss you so badly. He'd dreamt about it, even. He felt silly to admit this, but you'd become such a constant in his life in such a short period of time that he found it easy to imagine you there forever now. He felt the same way he did back in high school when he believed himself to be in love with his ex. He realized now that those feelings for her had dissipated quickly after his debut. They'd only been together for so long due to the familiarity of it. Maybe that's why his ex had such a hard time breaking off things with him. Maybe that's why she chose to cheat on him instead. Maybe that familiarity was what made the situation such a mess in the first place.

He had gotten out of his slump thanks to you (and Mingyu, maybe), but now he had fallen right back into it, even worse this time.

It didn't take long for his roommate to notice his friend's absences in their outings, or the stark difference in his mood as soon as he got home every day from being an idol. Mingyu had the privilege (not really) of seeing how whatever happened between you took effect on the both of you. He saw his best friend fall back into his previous depressive state, while he saw you become a shell of yourself. He didn't know what happened, and he honestly didn't care. No one asked for his help, but he was going to give it anyways.

By some act of god, Mingyu was able to convince Wonwoo to leave their apartment long enough to participate in an upcoming outing once more. He had promised that the only other attendee would be Jungkook, as the plan was to have some drinks at the man's house. Other than you, Wonwoo had taken a special liking to Jungkook, having many things in common with him. Wonwoo had only agreed to attend in order to lessen any suspicion Mingyu may have had about the reason behind his current low mood, but he was also happy to see one of his new friends again.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, Mingyu was a meddler. He wasn't entirely sure why he was even surprised at seeing you walk across Jungkook's front door as he sat on one of his couches, drink in hand. An unsuspecting Jungkook let you in, not taking notice of your shocked face at spotting Wonwoo just a few meters away. Wonwoo should've known that Mingyu would get involved sooner or later. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed at his friend's nosy nature.

Despite your initial shock, you were polite with Wonwoo. You interacted as you used to before the two of you had gotten to know one another. Just a few nods and tight smiles. It killed him inside a little bit. He wanted to fix things; to at least get your friendship back even if he couldn't allow himself more. He would sneak glances at you as you joked and drank with your two friends, feeling a smile grace his face at your laughter. At least you were happy, he thought.

The four of you eventually ended up in one of Jungkook's many guest rooms. This one was a viewing room, as he called it. Special for whenever he wished to invite friends over for a movie. You all sat and shared some commentary at what was playing on screen. To any outsider, this would've looked like the perfect outing. And maybe it was to Mingyu and Jungkook. But the air between you and Wonwoo still felt tense, even despite the occasional nod of acknowledgement you'd make to one another whenever your eyes met.

In a very unpredictable turn of events, Mingyu had managed to get you and Wonwoo in a room alone, dragging Jungkook away under the excuse of doing an impromptu live for his fans. He knew Jungkook wouldn't miss the chance. You and Wonwoo sat next to each other in the now empty movie room, neither of you making a move. He saw you looking at your hands from his peripheral, solemn look on your face. You were usually very talkative and lively. He felt terrible at how his presence in your life had caused such a stark difference in your demeanor. So, he did what he usually wouldn't do, and spoke up first.

"I .. How have you been?"

Great way to break the silence, Wonwoo.

You sat in silence for a beat or two, "Wonwoo, it's fine. We don't have to do this. I'm already embarrassed enough as it is."

Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?

"Embarrassed? At what?"

"Do I really have to say it? I thought I read things right. I thought maybe you might've maybe liked me back. I didn't .. I didn't mean to ruin our friendship over some stupid kiss.," you wouldn't look into his eyes as you spoke, even as he uncharacteristically stared at you with all his attention.

"You ... You didn't do anything wrong. I should've talked to you. Fuck. I should've apologized. I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. I panicked. It was so soon. I didn't want to pressure you," he had gotten up now, now sitting next to you on the couch.

"Pressure me? I kissed you. Well, tried to ..." you finally turned to look at him in his new proximity. Okay, progress, "I'm sorry, I kind of had an idea of what you were going through and still pushed you. It hurt me that you froze me out like that, but if it was what you felt like you needed to do, then I understand," you said with a sad smile that didn't meet your eyes.

God, why were you so understanding? He felt like an asshole. He was an asshole. Freezing you out was not something he wanted to do to you, but the result of his cowardice. He knew he had hurt you, but your admission to it only made him feel worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong! You- you did what I wanted to do that night. What I was going to do before I backed out like a coward. I wish I'd handled things differently. I wish I'd kissed you .. I-" he was beginning to feel shy at his almost-direct admissions of his feelings towards you, but he needed to continue. He was going to continue, but you had different plans.

As per usual, you knew him better than he did himself. You knew exactly how to salvage the situation without making him open up more than he felt comfortable with doing in his current emotional state. You grabbed his face, interrupting his speech, and ..

You kissed him.

"Like that?", you'd softly asked against his lips.

It was nothing like you'd see in movies. Just a small peck accompanied by your soft hands holding onto his cheeks.

You began to pull away almost immediately, too soon for Wonwoo's comfort. But that kiss had been enough for him to finally snap into action like he should've done weeks ago.

He grabbed you this time, pulling your lips against his again, putting much more into the kiss this time.

He'd never kissed someone like this. He'd kissed many people after his breakup. Hell, he'd done far more than kissing. But none of those moments held a candle to this one. Nothing compared to your soft moans against his lips, or the feeling of your pliant back against his palm. Nothing defeated the feeling of your hands restlessly looking for a place in his body to hold on to. He kissed you with every emotion that had been piling up since you two began to really get to know each other. No, since he first began to spiral into his depressive state. There was not a single emotion in Wonwoo's body that didn't go into that kiss.

Then came other stuff.

Wonwoo hadn't really thought about the sexual aspects of his attraction to you. Other than a few of the restless nights spent alone in his room, you in mind. As he kissed you, however, he couldn't help but begin to feel aroused. You were so pretty and so so soft against his arms. You had both begun to lean down, with his body hovering over yours, holding his body weight above you as not to crush you. You kissed mindlessly for a few minutes, at some point beginning to moan messily against each other's mouths.

Your tongue eventually came out to play with his, making him lightheaded at the sudden wetness of the kiss. You both began to feel dizzy, arousal clouding your minds. Wonwoo tried to pull away, wanting to confirm if what was happening was okay with you, but you wouldn't let him. Instead you pulled him even closer, forcing him all the way on top of you, your crotches now face to face. He decided to take the risk and begin a slow grind against you, which proved rewarding as you began to mewl against his lips, allowing his tongue to roam freely inside your mouth.

Then came even more stuff.

"Wo-wonwoo, please."

God, there was no way he would make it if that's how you sounded after just some light dry humping.

He managed to actually unglue himself from you this time; eyes lidded and breath heavy.

"Baby .. let me .. can I?", he questioned, hands approaching your nether area.

You grabbed his wrist, walking him the rest of the way, nodding desperately as you pressed his hand against your clothed cunt.

"Please, yes. I need you."

He undid the drawstring from your sweats, you aiding him in lowering your sweats just below your ass.

He neared you as much as possible as he began to rub your cunt over the thin fabric of your panties, kissing and biting at your neck as you mewled at the friction. He did this for a while until he decided to bury two of his fingers inside your cunt, making sure to rub your clit lightly with his thumb. He calculated his movements, wanting to go for a slow and steady pace that would have you lightheaded.

You moaned and whined at that, your body not knowing what to do at the pleasure Wonwoo was giving you.

He began to speak against your neck, praising your beauty and the way you oh so prettyly cried for him.

"Wonwoo .. oh, fuck Wonwoo please. Please ..." he wasn't sure what you were begging for, but he wanted more of it. So he sped up, wanting nothing more than to hear your cries of pleasure as he fingered you to completion.

Upon meeting your high, you disconnected from one another, still holding a very close proximity as you shyly smiled at each other. He helped you clean up the slight mess you had made on the couch under you, pulling your sweats all the way back up and helping you get on your feet. Neither of you said anything as he guided you out of Jungkook's apartment, not bothering to say goodbye to your friends. You both knew what you wanted with just a few looks at one another.

You then found yourselves in Mingyu's car. How Mingyu was going to get home, Wonwoo didn't know nor care. Payback for meddling, Wonwoo guessed. All he wanted now was to take you home and show you how much you meant to him.

He had his left hand on the wheel while the other held your hand over the console. You both felt giddy at the small displays of affection you'd been showing each other, sharing shy smiles and blushing at catching the other staring. It was kind of funny considering your current destination. It was all mostly wordless until your fast arrival to Mingyu and Wonwoo's shared apartment, where you both finally stopped to speak before entering the door.

"Wonwoo, wait," you stopped him before he was able to put his key in the lock.

"What's wrong?"

You seemed uneasy. Maybe this was too soon? Had he gone too far by what he did in Jungkook's house? Fuck. Okay, maybe fingering you in your friend's house while your friends were in the other room right after confessing to you (did he even confess ??) wasn't the best idea for a reconciliation. Maybe he should'v-

"Are you sure about this? I .. I don't wanna pressure you ..."

You were far too considerate of his feelings for his own good. But he didn't care about his feelings right now. He cared about yours. Because if you were happy, then he was happy. He just wanted you.

He turned his body to face you, grabbed both of your hands and squeezed lovingly. He no longer felt that sense of anxiousness when speaking his feelings to you. He felt at ease, and he wanted you to also.

"I'm sure. I want you. Anything you'll give me. If you want to go past that door and just let me hold your hand, I'll take it. If you want me to drive you back home, I'll do it. If you want to tell me off for making you wait for me to grow the balls to show you how I felt, I'll understand that too. Forget about my pace. It's been enough about me. I want to think about you. It's all about you," he finished his little speech feeling not an ounce of bashfulness, but rather an uncharacteristic sense of relief. He felt more than content at freely telling you how he was feeling.

You smiled up at him. "It's always about you for me, Wonwoo."

It took a bit of convincing from you, really. Repeating over and over again pleas and words of affirmation to ease his mind. He felt bad. He did say this was all about you. Which is why he'd insistently denied you when you first walked across the door, hand in hand, and immediately begged to suck his dick. He was caught off guard at first. He wanted to take care of you for once, not the other way around. You'd argued that he already had, insisting that he'd be doing you a favour by letting you get his cock in your mouth. Now, that .. that had gotten an involuntary reaction out of him. He couldn't help himself. You were a pretty girl - now his pretty girl - practically begging to get his dick wet. Batting your eyelashes at him and running your hands up and down his chest, muttering words such as "you'll let me take care of you, won't you?", or "i just wanna make you feel good," or his favorite "just a little bit, baby, want it so bad. been dreaming about it .."

That's how he now had you on your knees as he stood with his back against his front door, hands holding your hair out of your face as you tortured him with your tongue. You had prepared him by rubbing his dick for a minute or so, then moving onto kitten licking his tip and running your tongue ever so slowly up and down the protruding veins. You were taking your time, clearly enjoying his stuttered breaths above you.

You finally wrapped your mouth around him, sucking and licking at the tip, making all thought in his mind leave him immediately. He threw his head back against the wall at the pressure and warmth of your mouth, groaning out your name.

"Fuck .. just like that. Shit, I-fuck," there was no proper sentence that could leave his mouth as you fully enveloped his cock in your mouth, moaning around it.

Then he made the mistake of looking down, staring directly into your eyes, which were rolled back in pleasure, brows furrowed in concentration as you gave him your best performance. He hadn't known pleasure like this in ages, staring down at your pretty face as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the weight of his cock on your tongue.

You continued like this, doing everything that seemed to get a reaction out of him until drawing him almost to completion.

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum. You gotta- fuck. Baby, wait. Wanna fuck you ..." he tried to stop you, not wanting to cut the night short before he could get you as close as physically possible to him, your walls warmly wrapped around him. The thought did not help matters, as he felt his end approach even sooner. You also did not seem to care, as you fastened your movements and moaned even louder against him, vibrations triggering his impending orgasm. You swallowed every bit he gave you, humming at the taste.

You must be evil, he thought, watching you continue to lightly suck and lick at him even past completion, not caring that he half-heartedly tried to push you away from the slight overstimulation. When you finally pulled away, he held your hands in order to get you back up to your full height, eyes glued to your lips. He couldn't help himself. He felt depraved at the thought, but he needed to taste you and the remnants of himself twirling in your tongue. So he did what any sensible man would do, and shoved his tongue in your mouth, intertwining yours and his as he sucked his remaining juices out of your mouth and gave them back to you as he dragged your tongue back and forth. You moaned loudly into his mouth, growing restless at the lack of pleasure where you needed him most.

You pulled away, and wordlessly gave him eyes that could only mean one thing. Your eyes always got to him. One look and he'd give you whatever you wanted, so he promptly held your hand once more and led you to his room, laying you down on his bed and slowly undressing you. He wanted to savour every part of your body he'd been dying to see. Every article of clothing he removed, he caressed the skin behind. He faced you away from him and felt you up from behind, running his hands up and down your body as you pressed yourself even more against him, dizzy at the pleasure of his hands against you. He fondled your breasts and ass, wanting to commit them to memory. You moaned at the way he touched you, enticing him to continue. After a while of worshiping your body, he laid you back down, your body now facing him, and undressed himself.

He felt a strong sense of pride at the moan the sight of his bare chest pulled out of you. Your hands drew themselves towards him as you ran them up and down his chest, forming goosebumps anywhere your fingertips graced. He finally lowered himself down and pressed your chests together, wanting to be as close as possible.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, as if it was a secret no one could ever know, "You're all mine now. Never letting you go again", he began to grind his bare length against you, now hard again against your folds.

You whined at his actions, mind clouded by his words of affection. "Nonu ... please. I need it. Need you, just- Argh! Fuck ..." he swiftly entered you, interrupting your pleas for him.

God, you felt so tight and warm around him. Your body so pliant and soft against his. He had never felt more bliss than when you arched your back and pressed your tits against his chest, harshly digging your nails on his shoulders as you moaned out his name.

Pleasure overtook his mind, making him wax poetic at you endlessly, letting out his deepest of feelings for you.

"Want you always. Can't breathe without you."

"Never wanna be away from you again. You're everything."

"Gonna keep you ... keep you close to me. Just like this ..."

Then came something not even he expected himself to utter.

"L-love you. Fuck. So much. Is it too soon? I love you. Never felt like t-fuck .. like this before."

His words seemed to have an instant effect on you, as you tightened impossibly harder around him, crying his name as your orgasm suddenly hit you. The tightening of your walls, along with knowing the effect he had on you, brought Wonwoo to his end almost immediately after, claiming his orgasm on your stomach as he pulled out with a high whine of your name.

A few minutes of cleaning you up later and Wonwoo found the both of you under his covers, you laying your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around one another, softly running his hands up and down your arm. No words exchanged between the two of you.

As per usual, you broke the silence, turning yourself to face his side while still in his hold. He mirrored your actions, holding you even closer as you stared into each other's eyes, shy smiles on your faces.

"I love you too. It's not too soon. I love you, Wonwoo."

Your words took his breath away once more. What he had confessed in the throes of passion was being reciprocated. He hadn't shared the three words with anyone ever since his break up. His breakup, which had been the furthest thing from his mind ever since he had realized his feelings for you.

You fell asleep like that; holding each other tightly and muttering words of affection at each other every so often until sleep won you over. Wonwoo had never had such peaceful sleep, having never had the pleasure of holding someone he cared so much about in his sleep.

The news broke out quickly. Not to the public, of course, but to Mingyu, who had found you in bed the next morning when he'd noticed your absences last night, rushing home worried that maybe his plan to get you two to talk had backfired. Safe to say that Mingyu smugly took credit over your reconciliation (he might've deserved maybe a 15% of the credit). Then the news broke out to the 97 liners, who happily welcomed Wonwoo back into the group under the name of honorary 97-liner. Then his group mates found out, along with yours. They were all very accepting, having noticed your feelings for one another before you even did. Finally, the news broke out to your shared company. This was the trickiest one, but your insistence in the validity of your love for one another was able to triumph over any obstacles.

It had now been a few months since that fateful night, the words I love you being uttered between the two of you daily. Even as you worked your busy idol schedules and had distance put between you every once in a while, your relationship prospered, giving Wonwoo a new sense of what being loved truly was. He no longer felt like his ex had been right about him being unlovable. You had taught him to know better, while he showed you the same care in return.

Wonwoo no longer winced at the mentions of his 'pre-debut girlfriend', but even laughed along at the memes his fans made about their favorite idol being taken. Now knowing that, yes, he was taken, but had something even better now; you.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut

2K notes · View notes

leia-writes · 2 months ago

Text

Wild Heart

hwang in-ho | front man x female reader

Chapter 1: Mortal Once Again

summary - The Front Man infiltrates the games to change Gi-hun's mind, but after meeting you, things don't go according to plan.

warnings - violence, angst

THIS SERIES IS 18+ ONLY

chapter list

read on ao3

A gust of harsh, cold wind battered against your face as you exited the subway. The sun had just set, leaving a chill in the air that went straight to your bones, despite the sting of a bruise forming on your cheek and the slight glaze of sweat still on your face. Your brow furrowed as you walked home, clutching to the bundle of money in your pocket for dear life.

No one could’ve guessed what you’d just done, nor would they have believed you if you told them. After receiving life-shattering news at the hospital, you’d encountered a well-dressed man in the subway who offered to pay you just to play ddakji. You would’ve ignored him had he not shown you the briefcase of actual money… or if you hadn’t been so desperate.

Before meeting the man in the subway, you’d just learned that your sister was struck by a vehicle earlier that day on her way to school. Although she was lucky to be alive, she’d suffered many injuries and you were unsure what the future held for her. She would need multiple, extensive surgeries, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee if she would survive or not. You had left that night to gather some things in your small, shared home to bring back to the hospital.

Your sister was your entire world - losing your parents at a young age made it so that you only had each other. You’d been raised by various family members throughout your childhood but never had a truly stable home. Once you were old enough, you rented out a small apartment for the two of you while she finished school. You did everything you could, often working multiple jobs, to even attempt to provide a life where the two of you could be happy even if you were poor.

But now with her accident, you had to worry not only about your sister’s life but also the cost associated with her care. It broke your heart to even have to think that way, but you couldn’t stop your mind from rushing to the worst possible scenarios. Would you need to take out a loan that you couldn’t even pay back? What if they refused care because you couldn’t afford it in the first place?

You were used to handling things on your own without the guidance your parents would’ve given you, but this was too overwhelming. You felt stuck and afraid and vulnerable. And when that man offered you money for a simple little game, you couldn’t say no.

~~~

You’d barely slept in the waiting room that night, anxious for any news about your sister after being in surgery. The light brown business card given by the man in the subway seemed to burn a hole in your pocket. You considered his invitation - if slapping you was the worst that could happen, you were pretty certain you’d take him up on his offer.

The doctors finally approached you in the waiting room, interrupting your thoughts. Once they gave you the news, you thought you could physically feel your heart breaking into pieces. It took everything in you not to break down right then.

They’d told you your sister survived, but had suffered severe brain and spinal damage, and would never live the same again. It was hard to determine now whether or not she’d be able to even speak or walk. They reassured you that they would do their best in the coming days, but plans for permanent long-term care needed to be arranged.

The doctors left you to your raging thoughts. How could she live with you when your apartment required walking up 3 flights of stairs and was barely big enough to turn around in? How could she live a normal life like she wanted when she might not even be able to talk to or understand people? You could barely afford to live your normal life now… how could you afford the proper care she needed and deserved to live even somewhat well in her condition?

Your mind was finally set. You called the number on the back of the business card, and got yourself ready for pickup that night.

~~~

Hwang In-ho sat in his comfortable leather chair, leisurely scrolling on his tablet. Tonight would be the beginning of this year’s round of games, and he was watching updates on which players agreed to participate. Of course, he already knew of one: Seong Gi-hun.

In-ho had to admit he was a bit surprised at just how far Gi-hun was willing to go to find him and end the games. But no matter what Gi-hun did, he was always two steps ahead of him. That’s something he hadn’t fully figured out yet. The tracker, the boat captain, Jun-ho… he had no clue just how far In-ho could take this.

As he studied the new players, he paused at one picture. A younger woman with a strangely familiar face. He scrolled through the corresponding information, seeing your name, address, place of work… and your family.

His stomach sank. He knew you.

As a child, you spent a lot of time with your grandparents, who mostly raised you before they got too old. Your family was very close with another neighboring family and everyone quickly became close family friends. Unfortunately, when your grandparents were unable to take care of you any longer, you had moved away and never spoken to them very much again.

You and your sister had become close with two boys around the same age as you two, Jun-ho and In-ho. In-ho was a little older than Jun-ho and didn’t spend a lot of time with the rest of you, but you still had fond memories with him. After moving away and growing up, you didn’t really talk to them anymore, only hearing about major events through other family members. You heard about his wife passing away and how he had basically gone missing but hadn’t thought much of it since.

Since that time, In-ho hadn’t thought much about you either until seeing your face on his screen. What could have possibly happened to you to bring you to a place like this? He curiously browsed your files, puzzling together a picture of the life you had lived since you knew him.

It was strange seeing someone he knew here, which had never happened before. But he knew many players before who had come here to pay for medical care - something he related to all too well. When those situations presented themselves, it evoked a strange feeling from the furthest corner of his heart, something he hadn’t let himself feel for a very long time.

He wasn’t allowed to play favorites, but he decided he would keep a watchful eye on you and silently hope for you to win.

~~~

You woke up to the sound of classical music, opening your eyes to a large room full of beds. Everyone was dressed in green track suits assigned with a number. Yours was 132. As you descended the stairs to the floor, you saw how many people were gathered around, looking just as disoriented as you felt.

You felt tensions rise among the group once the strangely masked pink guards arrived and explained the premise of the games to you. It frightened you a bit to know they gassed you and changed your clothes, just to play games. But once the prize money was revealed, the mood shifted seriously. And you knew you’d do just about anything to get that money.

In-ho watched you from his leather chair, now on the big screen in front of him, as you went from the player room, to the photo booth, to the large open field to play Red Light, Green Light. He hoped you had enough sense to stay still once bullets started flying.

He was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by Gi-hun running in front of everyone and yelling at them, which initially amused him. He saw the looks on everyone’s faces, thinking he was just some crazy person. Even his own friend was doubtful. No matter how hard Gi-hun tried, the only way they would learn is seeing it happen to someone else.

Once people started getting shot, he kept his screen focused on you. He saw you uncontrollably shaking, hoping it wasn’t enough to set off the motion sensors. When it was clear you were staying still as everyone around you ran to the doors, he couldn’t deny the wave of relief he felt.

You felt like you were holding your breath for hours before you finally willed yourself to move forward. When the weird man started yelling at everyone about how they were going to die if they lost the game, you wanted badly to not believe him. But with the circumstances you were in, and the suspicious way this was all happening, it felt like nothing was beyond the realm of possibility. As everyone around you scurried to the doors, you couldn’t help but tremble, and it took everything in your power to ignore your instincts and run away.

You made it over the finish line just in time, collapsing to the ground in sick relief as your muscles ached with dread. The roof began to close above you, and the warmth of the sun became a memory. You couldn’t help yourself from silently crying. Your tears mixed with the specks of blood on your face of people who had died right in front of you, staining your hands as you wiped them away.

In-ho felt tremendous relief the moment you crossed the finish line, but something strange tugged at his heart when he saw you cry, something like pity. This wasn’t a place for someone like you.

He scoffed at himself. It wasn’t the first time someone in your situation had joined the games, so why bother feeling any worse for you? Just because he knew you didn’t mean you deserved to win any more than the others.

Or so he tried to convince himself. Once he saw Gi-hun gaining the trust of more players, he saw the perfect opportunity to step in. And before he could even realize it was happening, his devotion to fairness and equality was slowly giving way to a quiet, unfamiliar feeling.

~~~

Your mind was racing as the vote began. Everyone had to decide now whether to continue the games or leave with the remaining money, which you knew would barely cover anything close to what you needed for your sister. The implications of everything overwhelmed your mind. You needed to stay alive for your sister, but you also desperately needed that money for her. What good could you be anyways if you didn’t have the means to help her?

Your mind was made once the man yelling at everyone revealed he played the games before. If he made it out, then he could help you win too. You didn’t want to confront what that meant, that other people would die for your money. But in comparison it felt like a small price to pay for your sister’s life.

When you walked to the voting station, you quickly pressed the blue circle, taking your matching patch with you and going to the back of the crowd. As you walked back, you noticed another player waiting to vote, giving you an intense look. It almost made you stop walking. You felt as if you had locked eyes for minutes, but in the next moment he looked away and continued waiting.

A chill went down your spine as you joined the crowd. He looked so familiar to you, but you just couldn’t place it, and it made you feel unsettled. Clearly you had to have known him for his stare to affect you so much. You slowly turned back around to get another look, and noticed he was staring at you again, but this time immediately looked away as if he was caught.

That was strange.

Player 001. You decided you’d keep a watchful eye on him going forward.

~~~

In-ho internally chastised himself for getting caught staring at you. He had finally gotten in your view after you voted, but he could immediately tell by your reaction that you had no clue who he was. Although a small part of him wished he was memorable enough, not knowing his name meant he could carry out his plans with Gi-hun.

The voting had come down to the final player. In-ho felt everyone’s eyes on him as he walked forward and pressed the blue circle. When he turned to join the group, he snuck another glance at you. Fear was etched all over your face. You were too lost in worry to notice him.

After waiting in line for your meal, you walked over to Gi-hun, who was sitting next to someone else. You quietly approached them, giving an apprehensive look. He noticed the blue patch on your jacket as you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you?”

They both looked at you with blank faces for a moment. Gi-hun was clearly distraught but attempted to be polite. “Sure.”

Gi-hun stayed silent as you sat down next to him. His friend, who you learned was named Jung-bae, tried convincing him to eat. You sat and ate quietly as they spoke, before being interrupted by Player 001.

“Help us then, sir.”

You looked up to see him standing before the three of you, a group of people forming behind him.

“You said you’ve played these games. I pressed the O button because of you. Honestly, I was scared. I wanted to quit and leave. But you made me think I could play just one more game.”

The three of you stared in astonishment as the others behind him agreed. As Gi-hun explained what the next round would be, you watched the dynamic between all of the players unfold. People starting to form groups, take sides, operate with their own best interests in mind. You briefly wondered if you were truly cut out for the brutality this game might require of you. The thought of it disturbed you, so you quickly pushed it to the back of your mind.

The rest of the players dispersed, except for Player 001. He sat next to Jung-bae, intensely curious about what Gi-hun was thinking. You let yourself dissociate from the conversation. Although you wanted to know more about Player 001, you weren’t in the mood to strike up a conversation. As you were paying attention to your food, something Gi-hun said brought you back to reality.

“If you had pressed the X, everyone in here would’ve made it out alive.”

You looked up at Gi-hun, immediately taking offense without really understanding why. Player 001 glanced at you for a moment before responding.

“That’s right. I was the last to press the O button. But there were 182 more people who wanted to stay.”

He looked directly at you, and the blue patch on your jacket, as the other two slowly turned to you as well. Suddenly you felt exposed, too timid to say anything to stand up for yourself.

Gi-hun turned back to the other man. “And there were also 182 people who wanted to leave.”

Player 001 scoffed. “Let’s say… I pressed X and we all left. Would everyone have been happy? Do you think if they ran into me later they’d thank me for saving their lives and telling me they’re happy now?”

He looked at you and continued. “You voted to stay here too. If I had pressed the X, what would you have done?”

The three of them looked at you now as you swallowed your food. Frantically looking at each of them, you whispered, “I… I don’t know… my sister, and I, um…”

Jung-bae stepped in to break the tension. “All right, there’s no point in placing blame now.”

You sat quietly with the groups and tensions lessened, and saw your little group form right before you as Dae-ho and Jung-bae immediately bonded. Before you could get too comfortable, a fight broke out in the middle of the room - but Player 001 quickly intervened.

You watched as he effortlessly took down the two younger men going after him, almost choking one to death before letting him go. The entire display frightened you, yet you didn’t feel afraid of him - somewhere deep down you still had that familiar feeling with him.

You tried your best to ignore it. Trusting anyone was going to be a high risk decision for your survival, so you hoped he would at least just help your group survive the upcoming games. If you could survive just one or two more, you’d be satisfied.

~~~

That night, you tossed and turned in your bed, too anxious to fall asleep. As your thoughts raced, you heard Player 001 approach Gi-hun, who was also awake.

You listened as Player 001 apologized to Gi-hun, and explained his reason for joining the games. His wife was afflicted with cancer, and needed many surgeries and treatments, and in his attempt to accept help he was accused of taking a bribe.

Something in the back of your mind stirred, curiosity building in your mind. His situation sounded so familiar to you, but you couldn’t place it. You wanted to speak up and ask him more but felt it was impolite.

You sighed, tucking your blanket in your arms, wondering why he felt so familiar to you and why it troubled you so much. He was undoubtedly attractive to you, but you thought you’d be better than getting distracted by a handsome face in this sort of situation. It had been so long since you let yourself feel something good, let yourself focus on something other than the depressing parts of your life.

You decided to blame your fascination with him on pent up sexual frustration and thought nothing else of it that night.

#squid game #fanfiction #squid game fanfic #hwang inho #hwang in ho #hwang in-ho #front man #frontman #front man x reader #frontman x reader #hwang inho x reader #hwang in-ho x reader #hwang in ho x reader #reader insert

173 notes · View notes

evielmostdefinitely · 1 year ago

Text

darkened shadows |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: a single earring from the past causes turmoil in coryo's present with you.

contains: dark!coriolanus. manipulative, obsessive coriolanus. past mentions of lucy gray, sejanus. coryo's past. angst.

A single earring, worn- judging by the yellowish tint to the pearls that crested the thin gold hoop; that single earring that sent your world into a spiral. Cleaning your home, a gift from your parents after you announced your engagement to Coriolanus, after six months of courting during his time at University. You just wanted to be good, a prim and proper housewife, devoted just as he was to you, like your mother before you- until a single earring shattered your world.

“Darling,” Corio’s voice traveled through the grand spiraling stairs, heavy soled shoes clacking against the marble with every climb. “My love, where are you?” His tone held an edge, a jagged sense of urgency that would usually have you stiffening, running to coax him, soothing his worrisome mind.

Not this time.

You could hear his heartbeat, heavy in his throat when he spat out your name. No terms of endearment, no breathy gasps between it like this morning, when you were tangled beneath the bedsheets, his hands in your hair, toes curling with pleasure.

Frantic eyes piercing through the low light of your bedroom, falling onto you. His hair was longer now, coiffed all the same, but the curls you loved returned when Coryowould let them. “Did you not hear me calling for you?” Coryo huffed, a white knuckled grip on his satchel.

You didn’t answer, lips pursed, legs crossed from your perch on the edge of the bed. Coriolanus frowned, pulling the strap from over his head. “What? What’s wrong? Is it your mother again-”

“-No.” You snapped, nose scrunching in annoyance.

Coriolanus paused, unsure. His mind scanned, raced through facts and dates- had he missed a date? An event? Fuck, dinner with your parents? His calendar had been cleared, it was why he stayed late in the lab with Gaul.

“Why are you upset?” Coryo frowned, tired of the guessing game. He hadn’t meant to bark it out the way he did, but his heart skipped in his chest, squeezing too tight for his own comfort.

You scoffed, a manicured hand smacking the bed, fist curling around the object. Corio’s eyes followed, the way your white knuckled grip held the object, screwing the sapphire ring off your own ring finger. “Here,” You spat, dropping the engagement ring at his feet, the single earring banging around his shining shoes. “Since you love collecting jewelry so much, you can add that to your lover’s stash.” Your voice drenched in a sarcastic venom that had his stomach twisting.

Coryo tracked the sapphire, jaw setting. The ring- your engagement ring he’d given to you the night he poured his heart out into yours, in your parent’s garden- had been his mother’s before it found its new home on your finger. One of the few items his Grandma’am had let him have of hers, one of the few she hadn’t sold. There it was, settled next to Lucy Gray’s earring. The cursed object, when she’d betrayed him, tore his heart out in the woods of District Twelve. At the time, keeping it felt right, anchored to him like a cruel reminder. He’d forgotten about the thing, truly, stored away in a drawer far from his mind now that you took up most of the space in his head.

“You went through my things?” Coryo clipped through gritted teeth, bending to pick up the two pieces, one in each hand.

You gawked, spinning on your heel furiously to face him. “I was cleaning-”

“-You were snooping.” Coryo snapped. “We have maids for cleaning-”

“-And you told them not to come yesterday” You hissed, eyes narrowed to match his. “You wanted to spend the day in bed. Not let them in.” Your finger jabbed in the air towards him accusingly.

Coriolanus’ mouth tightened into a firm line, frowning towards you. “You still had no right to go through my things.” He huffed. “Cleaning the drawers?”

“I was putting your father’s compass away.” You sneered. “I didn’t want it out, and I thought you would want the same. You’re always going on and on about how the help will steal it if given the chance.”

Coryodidn’t respond, eyes piercing through you. “So I take it’s true?” You scoff, hoping your snarl of a tone would disguise the hurt lingering through your chest. “You’ve taken a lover before the wedding?”

“What? No.” Coryo ran a hand down his face, heart hammering. “How dare you say-”

“-How dare you.” You snap, taking a step towards him. “Make a mockery of me, of us. Embarrass me this way.” Tears of fury blur your vision, turning before he could see.

“It’s not- she was from before.” Coriolanus felt his composure withering away with every stomp of your foot.

He’d rationalize his despond that he was worried about his own title, his own future. Without your family, he might as well be back to living off of scraps in the worn down family home, cracks in the foundation. He’d worked hard but your father’s good graces were securing him his spot as President after the wedding.

“Before?” You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Before the engagement?”

“No,” Coryo shook his head, a strangled huff caught in his throat. “Before-Before I even knew you.”

“So you kept it around?” You snarled, turning on your foot so quickly it had him flinching backwards. “Pieces of another woman? Another lover lying around in our home?”

“It’s not like that. I-I didn’t even know I still had it.” Coryo was faltering, stuttering uneasily. He wasn’t used to not being in control, not being able to con himself out of any situation. The truth was, you held the upper hand; he needed you more than you did him.

“Darling, please, just-just let me explain.” Coriolanus begged, voice lilting higher and higher. “It was before I met you. When-When I was a mentor.” He reached out a hand for you, your dramatic step back making him flinch.

“Oh? So it’s Clemensia’s? I knew you two were more than you said. And you tried to tell me you-”

“-It’s not Clemensia’s.” Coryo shook his head gently. “It-It belongs to someone I want to forget about now- I have forgotten about now. At the time, I-I wasn’t in my right mind. I was manipulated and cheated and played to be a fool by this-this girl.”

That seemed to pique your interest, brows quipping carefully, watching him with caution. Vulnerability, Coryo wasn’t good at that, but he would have to be or try to be. Still, to keep you, keep your family and all his power into place, he’d have to be.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Coriolanus said slowly, eyes taking in every quip, every pull and fall of your emotions. Your breath stilling, hitching in your throat, though you tried to keep yourself steady, calm.

“In the past.” Coriolanus added quickly, his own voice teetering on a frantic tone that he despised, heart thudding loudly in his chest. “Let me be clear, I-I’ve never betrayed you.”

Your shoulders seemed to relax though your eyes stayed hard, challenging. “I went to District Twelve because I was sent there as punishment, that was true.” Coriolanus started, hand closing around the pearl earring, the hook piercing into his palm. “But I also went there looking for… someone.”

“Someone?” You repeated.

Coriolanus nodded. “You have to understand, I-I was coerced. Tricked by this- this woman, who used me.” His lips pursed, eyes lifting to yours. Your features softened, pulling into a look of sympathy.

“She used me. Used me and my wealth to escape.”

“A district girl?” You whispered like you were scared, frightened that someone might hear, even in the room with just the two of you. “Coriolanus-”

“-I know.” Coryo nodded, turning with the shake of his head. “You-You see why I didn’t tell you? I’m ashamed, my love. This,” He took a shaky breath, turning to look over his shoulder at you. “This is the darkest secret I’ve ever harbored. Not a soul, no one, knows of this.”

You stood still, unsure, finger twisting around your ring finger, absent of the ring you’d grown so fond of. Coriolanus watched you carefully, over his shoulder, hoping you’d believe him. You’d forgive him. He was so close, so close to his inauguration. Your father had practically promised it when he asked for his permission to marry you. “You take care of her, I’ll take care of you. Make sure you give my darling girl the life she deserves, and I’ll make sure you get the life you deserve.” Coriolanus prayed you hadn’t told your father any of this.

“But… The earring.” You looked at his closed palm. “Why would you keep it if she was so horrible to you?”

Coriolanus paused, letting his mind still. He was close, you were close, inching towards forgiveness. Towards forgetting the Baird girl who haunted his dreams.

“Truthfully, my love, I-I didn’t even-” Coriolanus ran a hand down his face, and out of the coroner of his eyes he saw you take a step towards him. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know?” Your brows furrowed, halting your quiet crawl towards him.

“I was in such a state of-of distress.” Coriolanus shook his head, swallowing the hard, burning lump in his throat. “You have to understand, I shamed my family getting kicked out of University, my friend, Sejanus, he-he was hung, found out to be a traitor-”

“-The Plinth’s son?” Your wide eyed, sympathetic gaze melted Coryo’s heart. Nearly felt it to be too much. Nearly made him feel guilty.

Nearly.

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded slowly, a wave of pain washing over his features, eyes dropping at the name of his fallen friend. “Yes, all of that.” Coriolanus swallowed, eyes gleaming in the low light of the apartment. “And this deceptive, devious girl, she used that. Took advantage of my weakness. Used me.”

Your small hiccup of a gasp, heart wrenching in an ache that Coriolanus shared with you. Burned in the fact that you felt so strongly for him, chest swarming in an unfamiliar heat.

“I was so… distraught. Positively sick with grief and-and betrayal.” Coriolanus’ eyes met yours, closer now, with every silent step over the carpet. “I can’t tell you why I kept it. What possessed me, truly, I had forgotten about it entirely, because-” Coriolanus let himself fall silent, eyes cast to his freshly shined shoes on the carpet, so bright he could see his own reflection.

“Because why, Coryo?” You whispered, stepping so your house slippers were touching the tips of his shoes. Your hand soft, cradling his face sweetly. “Tell me, please.”

“I met you.” Coriolanus said softly, his hand cradling your own, the engagement ring pressed between your skins. It made your knees weak, swooning at his softness, his kindness.

“I didn’t lie, petal. From the moment I met you, my life has known nothing but joy.” His eyes held yours, repeating the very same words from his vows weeks before, on bended knee in your parent’s rose garden overlooking the Capitol.

“She is a sad, dark spot in my past, but you,” Coriolanus’ free hand moved, letting the earring fall to the ground, cupping your face. “You, my love, are my world. My bright, shining future. The sun, the stars, everything to me.”

Your lip wobbled at his words, eyes shining with tears, moved by his words, the sincerity in his eyes and in his tone. Coryo’s stomach settled, relaxed at your sincere reaction. He let the ring fall in his hand, holding your hand in his, slipping the ring back onto your finger- and you let him. Of course, you let him, how could you not?

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was lying, like I was withholding the truth.” Coryo’s hand wrapped around your fingers, thumb ghosting over your ring, pressing it into your skin. “It pains me to talk about, to even think about.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, your hand squeezing his affectionately. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t, my darling.” Coriolanus bit back the smile that threatened to grace his face. It was easy, too easy to convince you. You leaned into his hold, eyes lingering over the dazzling sapphire on your finger.

Coriolanus swallowed. “Thank you.” He muttered, your eyes flashing to him in surprise.

“For what?” You frowned carefully.

“For putting my father’s compass away.” Coryo hummed, fingertips trailing down the shell of your ear, over your own earrings- clusters of diamonds and emeralds, not cheap freshwater pearls like the other, a stark difference between the two of you.

“For being kind to me, always.” His eyes met yours, icy even in the burn of affection. “So forgiving and gentle.”

You blushed, cheeks burning in his hold, heating the palm of his hands. He grinned, lips brushing over yours, taking you in slowly. A soft kiss that crescendoed into a passionate one, pressed into the wall, hands grabbing, fisting at the others clothes, hair. Shoving and pulling clothing, limbs, breathy whines and whispers into your skin, his skin. Fingers intertwined with every thrust of Coryo between your legs, teeth grazing over your delicate pulse points, primal.

The earring stayed on the floor, discarded like his feelings for Lucy Gray- for now, anyways.

Coriolanus stood over the earring the next morning, the light of the day catching the bits of gold in its rays. Coryo’s jaw set, tongue running over his teeth. In the mirror of the hall, he could see you- still in the bed, sprawled onto the pillows after he’d had you that morning, rougher than the night before.

Memories of Lucy Gray flashed before him, how she’d never let him do the things he wanted to with her, never let him be himself- not like you. You embraced him, every part of him, welcomed it and celebrated it, where she had rejected it.

A polished shoe hovered above the earring, Coryo’s body weight pressing down fully, satisfied with the crunch he felt under his sole. A snap, a crumbling and shattering of pearls, the thin gold snapping in half, leaving a shattered disaster under his feet. The earring was her mother’s, and her mother’s before her, passed down through her family. Now, destroyed, discarded, and forgotten just like her family.

Just like Lucy Gray.

684 notes · View notes

skunkox · 7 months ago

Text

Redacted Kisses pt 3

Where the characters and their Listeners prefer to give them.

♡♡♡

Gavin: Lips

As sexualy attuned as Gavin is, he's learning that even kisses on the lips can have different meanings. "I missed you." "Welcome home." "Im happy." "Relax, I've got it." "Thank you." As well spoken he may be, Gavin desires to communicate with his full physical being.

Deviant: Everywhere

What is Freelancer if not an equal opertunist? Not wanting Gavin to ever feel doubt of how they feel about him, they tend to act on compulsion in the terms of loving on him. Kisses big or small are frequent and at random. Gavin was definitely confused as to why these kisses occurred outside of extra curriculars before they officially started dating, but now cherishes each one.

Damien: Back

Damien still struggles to ask for affection or comfort. He knows Huxley would happily stop whatever he was doing to love on him. There are days where Damien just can't find the words to ask. Sometimes, he'll wrap his arms around Huxley from behind and slowly press a kiss on his spine. This always results in Huxley turning around for a proper kiss and hug.

Huxley: Top of Head

It's not a secret that Huxley is a hugger. It's not a secret that Damien is a bit of a busy body either. Huxley knows that there are times that getting Damien to slow down is like grabbing hold the end car of a freight train. Some days, however, Hux is able to latch on at just the right moment. He'd hold Damien close and tightly before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The first time it happened, Hux could have sworn steam came from his ears.

Lasko: Face

It took some work and encouragement from Dear for Lasko to start initiating kisses. They were a little half hazard , shaky, and unsure. One thing was certain. Lasko couldn't get enough of the goofy ass cheese on Dear's face when he did. Peppered kisses became a tool of comfort when he realized that they weren't as sure of themselves as they liked to pretend.

Dear: Earlobe

Zero shame when it comes to PDA or making Lasko flustered. Often enough, they feel the need to be affectionate in the workplace. Within the confinds of the campus grounds, it's easier to lean into Lasko's side as if telling a secret and give a small kiss to his ear. He still gets red, but it's the most discreet they are willing to be.

I am so sorry this took so long. Finally hit a break early this morning but was just too tired to finish it. It's been sitting in drafts for 3 months 😭

Anyways, if you guys have any other redacted characters you want for part 4, let me know. Pretty sure I promised a Guy x Honey.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #redactedverse #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #redacted deviant #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #lasko moore #redacted dear #redacted damn crew #damn crew

214 notes · View notes

shortestcake · 7 months ago

Text

SUCCUMB

Pairing: Pirate!Ellie Williams x Mermaid!reader

Pronouns used: none

Gendered terms: mermaid

Genre: (eventual) fluff+angst+smut

Summary: An infamous pirate seems to have finally bitten off more than she can chew.

// blood/wounds/alcohol mentioned, I don't know anything about ships, or sailing, or even pirates really, ellie is a bit dumb sometimes

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Silver scales glistened from underneath the water, or were they blue? Maybe pink, or green. She couldn't really tell, it was like they'd shift colors at every new angle of reflected light. But that didn't matter all too much. What did matter was that Ellie was about to grasp the biggest catch of her life.

"Fucking Christ— Hey!" Her voice bellowed throughout the ship, yet not loudly enough to garner the attention of her— probably asleep— crewmates. Of course, she could usually manage this on her own; though, in the moment, a helping hand would've been ideal, given the whiskey she enjoyed earlier.

But, not willing to let this gem slip away, she rushes to get the fishing net herself, nearly tumbling due to her drunken state. She practically sprints back once it's in her hold. And, with as much precision as she can muster, Ellie tosses the net. Reeling it back in when it's clear her target was tangled in well enough.

'This was it, this was what you finally got after years of dancing around death', you thought. You were just so curious, the group of young adults, laughing, drinking, dancing, effortlessly caught your eye. They were so muddled after all that liquor, that you assumed surely it'd be harmless to have a closer look. Especially once everyone went inside except for one woman. One mesmerizing woman.

She continues to lug the net upwards, slamming you against the ship's walls occasionally. 'This should last us weeks', she thought to herself, the weight of the fish taking her by surprise. It certainly wasn't the heaviest thing she's carried, but definitely not as light as fish usually are, and also definitely squirmier than fish typically are. Ellie could've sworn she felt a tugging of some sort.

Once over the edge, she choked on her own spit at the sight. Instead of a bug-eyed, all fin and scales— the pirate finds staring back at her a very human-looking pair of eyes. Naturally, her grip falters from the shock, and the net slips back to where she struggled so much to take it from.

Only your yelp snaps her back to reality, just in time to snatch the rope again. She caught it and dragged you back up without thinking, instinctively 'helping' you, now that her brain recognized you as a person and not just a meal.

The two of you just stared at each other, you wanted to curse at her, scream in her face and tackle her— your fucking arms and back hurt so much from how she knocked you into the ship. But you did nothing, after all, you weren't underwater, she clearly had the upper hand. And, as every second passed, you became more unsure of her motives. You initially thought she was one of those people who'd hunt inhuman creatures just for some extra coin. Sell elf teeth by gram, or mermaid scales by the piece. Instead, she looked more lost than you, eyeing you up and down, but not menacingly— it was shocked, curious even.

Finally, she pushed out of her frozen state, rubbing her eyes with her palms. "I'm way too fuckin' drunk for this." She slurred, it would've made you chuckle under other circumstances.

Ellie's mind was running a hundred miles a minute, did she really just accidentally catch a mermaid, how does that even happen?

Maybe this was your chance to slip away, retreat into the ocean, and play it safe. You swore to whatever divinity would listen, you'd never step out of line again if they spared you this once.

A firm grip on your arm stopped you from withdrawing any farther.

Jade eyes bore into yours, fixated on your features as her lips gaped. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to formulate a proper sentence. "You— what—" Asking what you were would've been foolish, so she stopped herself; "What were you doing so close to a ship?".

"Just... curious." You answered carefully, still unable to decipher her character.

The thief hums, not very convinced. Mermaids were supposed to be dangerous to humans. What if you weren't alone? What if she and her friends were in danger? What if—

Before she could think of what to do, a familiar voice rang through the air. "Ellie? Are ya' still out here?" Joel. Suddenly all rational thinking was lost, and Ellie turned back into a teenager trying to avoid a scolding. She pulled you out of the net and hoisted you into her arms, practically throwing you over your shoulder and running to her room.

You instantly started thrashing around, panicked. "Put me down." You hissed, slamming your fists into her back.

"Shut up. Shut up. You'll get us caught!" Now, realistically, she knew she had no reason to be this worried. She was a grown woman, after all, her dad couldn't ground her.

Honestly, it probably would've been easier to let Joel find you, he knew what to do in these situations better anyway. But she was beyond tipsy, and all she could think was 'Potential killing machine on ship, my fault.' over and over.

That's why she locked the door behind her when she reached her cabin, and why she was now pacing.

Ellie finally slowed and glanced back at you. "Doesn't that hurt?" Her finger switched between pointing at your arm and then your tail.

Confused, you follow her index finger, to find two wounds, one worse than the other. It was like the adrenaline numbed you, and now, looking at the damage brought that pain rushing in. "Fuck— must've happened while you dragged me against your ship."

Ellie winced at your comment. She took a deep breath, trying to clear the fog of alcohol from her mind. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt you," she said, a bit more gently. "I just thought you were a really big fish." She admits, quietly and embarrassed. At that, you let yourself giggle. But your amusement didn't last long when your body decided to remind you of the excruciating pain you were in. You flinched and sucked in a sharp breath.

Now it was her turn to chuckle, just barely, though. "Can you go back out like that?" She asks, and it seems genuine— maybe she's sobered up a bit, you think. "I don't know." You answer honestly, fidgeting your fingers.

"I"m not— Hey, listen!" Poor Jesse, desperately defending himself from his own best friend and girlfriend. "I'm not saying we should just invite mermaids onboard. I'm just saying, hypothetically, if we somehow befriended a mermaid, it'd help us a lot."

"Yeah, or get us killed." Ellie scoffed.

"You know what I mean, dick." He rolled his eyes. "Like, with navigating and—" hiccup "shit."

"Okay, you're drunk." Dina put her hand on his shoulder. "But, I guess, hypothetically, you're right."

Jesse made an 'I told you so' motion with his hands while nodding at the other girl.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Ellie recollected the conversation with her crew mates, chewing on her lip in contemplation.

"Then, you can stay here." She blurted out. This made you look at her like she was the mermaid, and you the pirate.

After a moment of silently blinking up at her, you asked "Why?", a reasonable question, who wouldn't be suspicious under these circumstances.

"We could help each other. I let you stay here, give you food, bandages, and you help us navigate." The offer was tempting, aside from the fact that getting back home in your state would've been a pain, you've also always had a curiosity about humans.

"I just tell you where you to go? Is there some catch?" You ask, still slightly skeptical.

"Nope, these waters are dangerous, and you know them better than anyone else on this ship." She remarks, matter-of-factly.

"Makes sense." You mumble.

"So?"

"So, I'll help."

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

297 notes · View notes

cat-webp · 1 month ago

Text

etiquette for using & crediting art

right, well, I'll get straight to it instead of messing about like in my other tutorials. editblr has a serious problem with people not crediting artists, we all know that, I don't need to talk much about it. but I figured instead of just making one of those posts, I'd make one explaining the etiquette for such things and how you can appropriately use fanart in your edits. oh, and also what could happen if you refuse to offer those credits

contents table:

stop letting them use your shit to train ai models

why credit is important, and what lack of credit could potentially do to your account

how to source your fanart

how to differentiate fanart from official art

how to find credits for art blatantly stolen and reuploaded to pinterest when all the caption says is "credit to the artist!"

knowing and understanding artist boundaries

how to give appropriate credit

alright, cool, let's talk about it

— stop letting them use your shit to train ai models

if you've been on tumblr for a bit, or have just gone through the general settings, you'll probably have noticed that in the visibility tab there's this not-so-fun setting automatically turned off:

yeah. that's fun, isn't it? since you're using fanart, and most artists don't support nor engage with ai, it's basic respect to opt out of such a thing.

settings -> visibility -> bottom option

— why credit is important, and what lack of credit could potentially do to your account

I feel I shouldn't necessarily have to explain why credit is important, but I will anyway. in the plainest terms, they made it, it's theirs, so credit them. it's a simple concept, no? hm, but I know that doesn't sound important to some people, so imagine if someone stole your edits and reuploaded them onto their own blog, but in the caption all it says is "idk who made this originally, sorry" or "credits to artist".. I bet you'd feel pretty pissed off about it, right? your hard work being stolen by someone you've never heard of, who didn't even bother putting in the effort to search for you.

another thing: credit is still important when they're a figurehead in the community you're editing for. yes, their artstyle may be familiar to you and the others in your fandom, but to an outsider it's just another piece of fanart that remains uncredited.

if you use art that doesn't belong to you, and the original artist finds it and doesn't want you using it, you could face a takedown. of course, most artists are kind and would send you a polite notice first, but there's always that chance they could send over a takedown request to your post and therefore your blog with zero warning. three of those, your blog gets deleted. they're incredibly easy to send off, and afaik tumblr gets to them pretty quickly.

oh, and also people typically don't look favourably on those who can't be bothered to credit artists, so you'll end up losing connections with other editors as well, if you care about that.

— how to source your fanart

stay away from pinterest. I cannot stress this enough, I understand that pinterest is by far one of the easiest platforms to find fantastic art on, but having proper credits is more important than the 5 minutes of time shaved off by stealing a reupload.

twitter, instagram, tumblr, pixiv, and deviantart are all good places to search. though, do make sure to check for ai on deviantart especially, it's like a rat infestation over there.

— how to differentiate fanart from official art

fandom wiki. I know, we all hate fandom wiki, but whether your media is popular or unpopular it's likely to have a fandom wiki dedicated to it, and people will archive all official art there. if you're unsure, cross-examine the potential fanart piece with the archive.

if you hate fandom wiki that badly, there's also archival accounts scattered across different platforms, so you can use those.

if the art is official, then for company-ran medias it's normally okay to just add "all art is official" or leave it uncredited; though that's also somewhat of a dick move. but for smaller things like web-comics and games that aren't hosted on any big site, and have no huge monetary support, it's nice to include the name of the artist and/or creator.

— how to find credits for art blatantly stolen and reuploaded to pinterest when all the caption says is "credit to the artist!"

reverse image search, that's my simplest answer. with chrome at least, it comes with a built-in reverse image searcher called google lens. it's normally highly efficient, so for most art pieces it'll pick up on the artist pretty quickly.

but what if it doesn't? what if it just links back to the original pinterest post instead? well, the weird thing about google lens in particular is that it initially retrieves one post it thinks it could originate from—probably the post with the most traffic going to it, but it then also features a "see exact matches" option underneath that first photo.

if you click it, it'll show you a whole lot more examples of the art being used.

normally, you can use that to figure out who made the art, since it'll show you similarly popular recorded instances. however, there are also times when even that fails to grab a source, and you're left only with confusing results. what do you do then?

well, you can either resort to clicking on random sites until you find a username, or you can give up and find a different piece of art to use. it's really just a process of rinse and repeat until you find something usable.

— knowing and understanding artist boundaries

artist boundaries are typically easy to see and simple to understand. they're normally just in the bios of the artists, which is super helpful. however, sometimes they're kept within links placed on the accounts instead. if you can't immediately see a list of boundaries, then instead start looking for (typically) a link to one of these sites:

carrd

rentry

strawpage

lit.link

skeb (though skeb can sometimes block itself if you have parental controls on, so be aware of this)

scour through them, and you should get an understanding.

right, and for artists who have bios in foreign languages; just translate it, it's not as if google translate or deepl are impossible to use. not knowing the language isn't an excuse anymore.

however, if they still don't have one available, you might have to start searching keywords on their accounts. of course, such things aren't really possible on da or instagram, but on tumblr and twitter, search up these keywords before giving up on an art piece:

credit

pfp / icon / profile picture

use

your art

on tumblr especially, most asks are tagged with something or other, so you can scroll through and check to see if there's anything there too.

and if there's still nothing.. well, just ask the artist about it. if you don't want to do that, then it's not a good idea to use it, and it's back to the drawing board for you.

— how to give appropriate credit

by including "art credit - (username)" in the description, ordinarily. however, you should note that most people who use rentry graphics don't care for art credits, and won't include them if they're using said graphics. so, that's why you put a watermark on it, so it's basically like forcing credit to be given. it doesn't have to be anything big or flashy, but it does need to be readable, so simple fonts work well.

oh, and ideally there should be a direct link back to the art piece, so if people want to use it also they don't have to scroll through someone's entire account trying to find it.

anyway, hope that helped somewhat. if it didn't, then pop into my askbox and I'll explain things further.

#💬 — chatting #‼️ — important posts #editblr #rentry #rentry resources #rentry graphics #< i hate crosstagging

73 notes · View notes

ohthewh0rror · 1 year ago

Text

ETERNALLY YOURS.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — The follow up to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear.’ Now that your marriage has been irreparably damaged, where do the two of you go from here?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 2k

A/N: I changed my mind after writing a completely different ending. At first I wanted to make it angst-filled and unhappy but I keep writing sad stuff, and you guys deserve a break. Thank you to my best friend Madie for proof-reading/editing this once again and to @brooklynscherry-z for helping me get a better understanding of Tom & Mattheo’s lore. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this (much shorter) continuation to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear”!

“A letter arrived for you this morning, Y/N,” came the soft voice of your great aunt Delia, her wrinkled hand holding the letter out for you. For a second you were confused, unsure of who would have sent you a letter, especially at such an early hour, until it dawned on you.

Your husband.

A pang of hurt hit your heart at the thought of him. It had been two months since you had seen or spoken to him and though you hated him, another, smaller, part of you missed him terribly. He had been your first love and dearest friend, and his infidelity wasn’t enough to completely erase the love you’ve held for him since the two of you were only seventeen.

As you held the letter in your hands you contemplated not opening it, to instead toss it in the trash and forget it ever arrived. You eyed the entrance to the kitchens, the trash was right through that door, you could throw it away and leave the contents of the letter a mystery. But, as you turned the letter over in your hands, you felt curiosity eating at the back of your mind, beckoning you to open the letter and dissect its contents.

‘Well…it couldn’t hurt,’ you thought, gently unfolding the parchment. As your eyes skimmed over the opening of the letter, you soon realized this was not a letter you should read in the company of others. Folding the letter back up, you looked at your aunt, asking “may I be excused?”

Her eyes darted between the parchment and your eyes, and she looked as if she wanted to ask you something but she waved you off instead, wordlessly telling you that you may take your leave.

You gave her a nod of gratitude before heading to the room you were staying in, trying your hardest to seem normal. Once you entered your room, you made sure to lock the doors and cast a silencing charm for good measure. You did not want your aunt to hear you in the event that you became upset.

Sitting at the desk in the corner of your room, you unfolded the letter and began to read it once again.

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been two months since I have seen or spoken to you, and I must admit that I miss you more than I thought myself capable of. I understand that what I did was unforgivable in your eyes, but I hope by telling you everything it will help you process what is going on so we may move forward from this.

A year ago I approached Bellatrix with the proposition of conceiving and carrying my heir. I explained I did this out of a need to produce an heir and you had not been able to get pregnant yourself. Once she had the child, the child would be ours to raise, she was merely going to be a surrogate of sorts; she understood and agreed to the terms and from there we began the affair.

She finally fell pregnant 6 months ago with a boy. While I should've told you about my plans before approaching her, I most definitely should have told you once she was with child. I am sincerely sorry that you found out the way you did. I wish I could have told you myself, under better circumstances.

Please consider coming back home so that we may be a proper family.

Eternally yours, Tom

You felt a few tears slip out and drip from your eyes onto the parchment, smearing the ink that stained the page with its terrible words. Oh how you wish he hadn’t written to you. His answers did not bring any form of acceptance of his actions, only further heartbreak. It was hard for you to comprehend how he could have sex with her and then return home to you as if all was normal.

“Reducio,” you muttered, shrinking the letter. You carefully folded it, being sure not to rip it, before you got out of your seat and made your way to your closet. On the top shelf, in the furthest corner, sat an intricately carved wooden box with flowers lining the top and sides. The initials M.R sat right above the lock. You conjured a small stepping stool, but even with the stool you were still unable to reach it, leaving yourself to blindly swipe your hand across the shelf till you finally felt your fingers bump the edge.

With what you were looking for finally in your grasp, you got off the stool and went back to your desk. You sat down again, reaching towards one of the desk drawers, and pulling it open to retrieve the small key for the box. As soon as the lock clicked, you opened the top, revealing an empty interior.

The box was made to hold important milestone objects and keepsakes for your son. You planned to fill it with your own letters and pictures so that you could look back on it when he is older and no longer needs you, to remind yourself of simpler times. You hadn’t planned on putting anything related to Tom in there. The thought of him was far too painful, and you didn’t want to taint the little bits of happiness within.

Taking the shrunken letter you placed it in the box before sliding off your wedding ring and putting it on top of the letter. As you closed the box once again, you felt as if you were also closing the metaphorical lid on your marriage. You wouldn’t grace Tom with your presence, a simple letter would have to suffice as you decided you were going to effectively cut him out of your life.

Dear Tom,

I will keep this letter simple and to the point. I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to take some form of accountability for your actions, as I know it’s not something that comes easy to you. But, I will not be returning home nor will we be playing at being a happy family. If you want to be a family as badly as you say, then leave our marriage intact but let us live separate lives. Don’t worry, I do not plan to date or remarry, for you are my first and final love.

That all being said, do not contact me again unless it is with divorce proceedings.

P.s. congratulations on the heir you always wanted.

Sincerely, Y/N

Putting your quill down, you read over the letter one more time to be sure this was what you wanted your final words to him to be. Satisfied with what you wrote, you got out of your chair once again and left the room, heading towards the back garden where you knew the owl belonging to your aunt would be.

Walking into the small building that housed her owl you saw the bird, Chipp, still here and not away delivering mail for your aunt. You gave Chipp a few treats as a thank you for going out in the cold for delivering this letter for you before holding the letter out for the owl to take. Chipp happily took the parchment and flew off to take the letter to its recipient.

That was the last time you spoke to Tom. As the months turned to years, Tom became a distant, painful memory.

11 years later

“Mattheo! Wait up!” You called out to your son, as he excitedly ran ahead of you. You were winded trying to keep up with him, trying hard not to lose him in the crowd of teary-eyed mothers and nervous children. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed him by the shoulder, halting him. “I understand you’re excited, but will you try not to run off,” you were panting slightly, “I would at least like to tell you goodbye.”

Mattheo looked exasperated, trying already to seem too cool to tell his mother bye. “But mum—” he started, trying to justify his running off. “No buts; now, let me see you,” you said, motioning him to turn around. He groaned, turning around to face you. You held him by his arms in front of you, “listen, and actually listen to me for once; listen to your professors and don’t cause trouble, I know how—” you paused mid sentence when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

It was your husband.

Your husband, who you hadn’t seen in 11 years, with a young boy standing beside him. The two of you locked eyes and you felt a wave of discomfort hit you. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he would be here, his son and Mattheo are close in age, they’d obviously go to school together.

You decided to skip the speech and quickly walk further up the platform, trying to put more room between you and Tom. You didn’t want Tom to approach you and attempt to talk to you or your son. Mattheo didn’t need to go through such a confusing altercation on such an important day. This day was only about him and you wanted it to be special.

Once you put a satisfying amount of room between the two of you, you stopped and your son decided to ask why that man was staring at you. Waving him off, you explained, “he’s just someone I used to know, that’s all.” Mattheo looked like he had more questions, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask them. Instead, you gave him a parting kiss on the forehead and told him goodbye before all but pushing him onto the train.

You backed away and watched Mattheo walk further into the train before he finally disappeared from sight. You felt your eyes well up with tears at the reality of your son leaving for Hogwarts, giving you definitive proof of how old he was getting. It made you wish you possessed a time turner, just so you could go back to the beginning and do it all over again.

As you shuffled back toward the exit, you were lost in thought over how Mattheo would do at Hogwarts. What house would he be in? Would he make friends? How would he do academically? You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed someone closing in on you until it was too late.

You felt a hand wrap around your bicep and pull you back slightly causing you to stumble into their chest. You whipped around, about to give the owner of the offending hand a piece of your mind when you saw who was touching you.

Tom looked at you, and though his face remained neutral, you swear you saw a glint of hurt in his eyes. He released your arm only to place a hand on the small of your back, “walk with me, Y/N?”

You hesitated for a second before giving him a small nod and walking with him back towards the entrance to platform 9 ¾. There was a moment of tense, awkward silence before he spoke.

“What is his name?” Tom asked. You thought about whether you wanted to tell him or not, as you knew where this conversation was headed.

“Mattheo,” was all you said. Not giving away his full name, as you weren’t ready to admit you’d given him Tom’s last name.

Tom went silent again and you looked up to see him deep in thought. Not wanting to make the situation any more uncomfortable by just staring at him, you looked away, waiting for him to speak once again. Though, once he spoke, you wish he had kept the awkward silence between you two.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @mypolicemanharryyy @jessysfangirlworld @homan-oid @motherofdragons1998 @theeslutintheroom @pasta01 @lovefks @mwahbella @storminacloud @brooklynscherry-z @eri-s-big-sis @eversei @tomhollandisabae @rlblackbarbie @cyphah @cookielovesbook-akie

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #take it #I’m going to bed

654 notes · View notes