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kingofbodyrolls · 29 days

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back.

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin.

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin.

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love.

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it.

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?”

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth.

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze.

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?”

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen.

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really.

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard.

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.”

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered.

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole.

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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solar-sunnyside-up · 9 months

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Hi there... I really love the idea of solarpunk but like. The "punk" part of it makes me so anxious. I think it's a vital part of the movement, but I can never imagine doing something like that myself.

If you have any small (tiny) tips or ideas on things I can do on a more personal level I would appreciate them. Everything seems so overwhelming and completely out of my wheelhouse and skill base

Hey ya 🌱 Sprout!! It can be hard to recognize, particularly in solarpunk, but your already punk and already doing praxis. I'm sure of it.

If you've ever pirated media, DIYed or mended clothes, have a rain barrel, spoke out against poor labor conditions, provided a safe space for anyone in an uncaring world even for a brief interaction- Your already punk!! Anyone who fights and gatekeeps that title from you bc of age, aesthics, or experience is a poser and a FED!!

That being said tho--

If you want to do more outrageous projects there's a few things I can recommend depending on how much you wanna do!!

Battlejacket- TBH the purpose of a battle jacket is to soothe this exact anxiety while also being a fun project and being a single to others!! There's many examples in both my Battlejacket tag and patch idea tag to get you started. You can get iron on patches/print paper that transfers pretty well if your not used to DIYing stuff. If this feels like to big if a step and is too much tho keep in mind you can make a battlejacket and not wear it outside right away. It's a second skin to make you feel and others feel safe, but it's also a big neon target on yourself depending on your environment and where you are. So it's ok to just make one and not wear it out until your ready!! (If you do this-- my only demand is you show me when you do it!! I want to see all of those kinda projects bc I'm obsessed with them)

Getting out there- If starting a guerilla gardening project or joining a community garden, or community association isn't an option for you- be that bc of accessibility/time/energy- I'd recommend starting to archive and getting out there! Inaturalist or falling fruit are awesome programs where you identify plants/animals/stuff outside in general. It gets you outside, your adding to a community which gets the feeling of a ball rolling building confidence and your praxis muscles!!

Root yourself in your community- This is a hard one if your busy/have low spoons/are introverted but I promise its worth doing even if you arent super active in those spaces! Even just researching the history of your town/city/neighborhood and seeing what programs are running can really connect you to the area. A lot of us due to the renting crisis never truly attach to our neighborhoods or are too busy to look into local artists. (Not your fault babes, its built to do that to feed monopolies) Pick even just 1 thing you care about (local artists, teashop, bands, libraries, community fridges, etc..) and find the closest thing to you and get obsessed. Being a regular in any space is an awesome feeling, its where you'll find friends, and you'll directly see any change you provide there.

Media archiving- There's a lot of ways of doing this one but just pirate the fuck out of everything!!!! Burn it to a physical copy, share it with your friends/family! Make mix dvds, burn movies/tv shows! Directly download youtube videos! Print off your fave fanfiction and bind them into books! Particularly with streaming services directly deleting content and getting rid of them entirely this is important work but its also just very fun!! Seeing my wall filled with dvds and books and objects makes my brain happy but also again, the physical exchange of handing the media you love to another person is so unique! Theres lots of guides and methods of doing this depending on the method and medium your using.

Utilizing public spaces- Loitering is a good one as well to push yourself and to interact with things IRL! Use your public libraries and parks excessively! Spend a weird amount of time at the mall not buying stuff! This might seem like a weird one, but its a long term thing. It shows that ppl are supposed to be out and about without spending money, but also many of these places (except the mall obvi) get funding based on usage so the more you use something the more likely they are to make it accessible to more ppl! It also makes it more normal for ppl who need to loiter to be in these spaces which again adds more accessibility. This is also one that might get you unwanted attention so decide your comfort and safety level. Pushing boundaries is good but do it at your own pace.

Vandalize! - Again we're ramping up a bit on risk levels but I recommend it, particularly bus stops or putting up posters. Bus stops is bc at least in my city they only maintenance them once they've been 'ruined' so its actually a cosmic positive to do it in these spaces. Posters are also good! Ive seen quite a few for tenant unions but also a handful of them that are food resources or call outs for police. This is mostly to have passive way to show solidarity or get a message across. But also like your doing art! Great stuff! Again tho this comes with risk if caught or if you dont know what your doing so start with baby steps (like using sharpie on an Ad you fucking hate or putting up a poster in a neutral space to get used to it)

Hopefully these tips get you started!

#solarpunk #praxis #punk #asks #hopepunk #ref #sprout #sprout guide #sleepover saturday

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xinamie · 2 months

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💋 — dark red.

pairing: raiden x gn! reader

summary: after training with the shirai ryu, raiden seeks out the one person he could depend on for comfort. ♡

tags: fighting (training), fluff, raiden is feeling romantical but still sfw tbh

Ever since meeting his godly alternate self, Raiden took to training with Grandmaster Kuai Liang. He needed that extra push to fuel the flame within him and who better to ask than the pyromancer himself? He was aware of Lord Liu Kang's stories about how the god fell into rage; the reason for being made mortal this time was to prevent him from going through such anger and destruction.

There were so many factors to consider, but he was devoted to this path— to learn more about himself and his capabilities. If he figures out how to activate these feats and learn how to work with them, he could be of better use to Earthrealm's defense. Battles could rise on a whim and he wanted to get a grip on that potential rage rather than be afraid or to shun it.

In between his work with the Shaolin, Raiden made frequent trips over to Japan. The Shirai Ryu’s Grandmaster would hold sessions with him whenever he was available; other times he sparred with Smoke, helped young Hanzo or went over strategies with Harumi.

There were days he would catch you around the clan’s base of operations, indulging in small talk and peaceful walks around their garden. Little memories like those were cherished for someone who carried the weight of his title.

Lord Liu Kang told him that it was possible to train too much, and he was right.

Yet, here he was, circling around Kuai Liang as the two of them observed each other. They were waiting for the right opportunity to strike, focused on every breath falling from their chest.

You were watching on the side, entranced by their intricate dance. Raiden was the first to charge while the other man remained on defense. It was always a show with these two, a display of thunder and fire clashing together. Paired with Scorpion’s trusted kusarigama, it was as if nature’s elemental symphony reverberated through the metal and into the surrounding atmosphere.

At one point, the chain latched onto Raiden’s ankles and he moved to secure it down, not wanting to be pulled towards the warrior. When he lifted his head to look towards Kuai Liang, he noticed an intense, stern look in his opponent’s sharp gaze. In a split second, flames began to travel down the metal, spreading closer and closer to his very form.

He was going to be harmed if he wasn’t careful.

Raiden gripped the chain harder, digging his soles into the ground and allowed sparks to gather in his palms. Metal was a great conductor of electricity, thus the lightning he conjured bounced, shooting out towards Kuai Liang. This forced the Grandmaster to halt his embers in order to escape the wrath. Raiden took this chance to kick the kama away, only to forget how fast the trained warrior recovers.

He was pinned within seconds of letting his sight falter, groaning as his shoulders were pressed into the courtyard.

Upset at having let his guard down, his fingers clenched into the ground and began to generate heat. He should have known better, to always keep his eyes on his opponent…

Raiden’s attention was on his hand, watching as the light flickered around his skin. A new hue joined the display, faint and taunting, but it was unmistakably there. It was blurred and any average person would have trouble detecting it. Though, as someone who had studied his newfound powers the moment he was given the amulet, he knew what it was— it just had to be.

“Yield.” The order came from the masked opponent.

Taking a steady breath, willing his strength to compose himself, he placed his palm down. He relaxed his muscles, resting against the floor as he pondered. The brief disappointment in himself was replaced by curiosity and intrigue.

“I yield.”

After the session, Raiden decided to clean up since he had dust and dirt all over him. Training had always garnered sweat and he took pride in his ability to remain hygienic, especially in a home he was a guest of.

Fresh and clean, he goes about his usual routine and enters the garden. He knew he would find you here, but he was really hoping to see you even more after his latest discovery. He couldn't help the way his body buzzed, images of that light scarlet color replaying every other minute.

“Raiden?” Your voice called out to him, breaking him out of his trance as he offered a kind bow and then joined your side.

There was something different about him; it was as obvious as day and night. Whenever he would spar with the others and found himself losing, he would either ask to go again or thank them for their time. Now, he seemed… miles away.

“What's troubling you?” You had asked as he averted his gaze to the blooming plant in front of you.

“There's… well, I…”

It wasn’t unnatural for him to be at a loss for words, and he was truly grateful for your patience as he gathered himself. A few minutes passed and his gentle voice had a hint of shakiness to it, an effect of using the amulet as much as he had.

“May I hold you?”

His request sits in the air between you both, the inhale not going unnoticed by him as he tilted his head in a manner that was far too precious. He merely chuckled and began to explain himself further.

“I am quite energized still. I can feel it coursing within me.” He stated, hinting at his wish to find a way to ground himself back into reality. To think he would ask you rather than his usual meditation added a certain warmth to your cheeks.

The second you agree, his smile is nearly blinding. He was careful with his first touch, fingertips caressing the back of your hand and over your knuckles. They smoothed up towards your wrist and along your forearm when he was met with no resistance.

Raiden had visibly melted when he tugged you closer to his body, arms circled around your waist and head tucked on your shoulder. A content breath tickled your neck as he held you there, basking in the shared warmth and comfort.

“I've made progress today.” He hummed out, leaning into you further when you began brushing his hair back in a soothing motion. His chest was pressed against yours, every breath and exhale easily detected from such proximity.

He briefly removed himself to gaze at you, only inches apart from being able to rest his forehead on yours. His voice lingered on a lower tone, set on you and you alone. “Were you watching?”

You could only nod, mesmerized by the searing look behind those usually soft, brown eyes of his. A pleased thrum vibrated through him and into you, eyelashes fluttering as he locked his hands on the curve of your back.

It was just the two of you in the gardens, lost in each other’s presence with an unspoken heat rising. He watched you for what felt like forever, analyzing your features and committing them to his mind for safe keeping.

“Allow me…” He spoke up, your focus snapping back to him as he brought himself close enough to brush his nose along yours. “Please.”

His plea left you near breathless, eyes trying to search for answers. You could feel his breath tease your lips, making them quiver in anticipation. Gathering your courage, you finally respond with a command he has wanted to hear since entering the garden.

“Kiss me.”

He didn't need to be told twice, keeping one arm secure around your hips as the other slid up to cup your cheek. Raiden kept you there as his eager lips captured yours in a kiss he had only ever dreamed of.

It was exhilarating; both yours and his eyes closing shut to embrace the intimacy of it all. He tasted sweet like a divine treat that was immensely invigorating and rousing to your senses. Trying to part from him only lasted for two seconds as he chased after you, planting his lips upon yours and stealing your breath yet again.

Earthrealm’s Champion wanted— or more so needed you, in his arms and covered in his affection. He would ensure that you were treated to the highest degree that only someone like him could ever deliver to you.

Only you could keep him stable while he made you feel as if you were floating within all the realms.

#mk1 x reader #raiden x reader #mk1 raiden x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 raiden x reader #mortal kombat x reader #xinamie writes

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bella-rose29 · 6 months

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You Shall Go to the Ball!

Anthony Lockwood x f!Karim!reader

Requested by anon: Hey, I don't know if you accept requests, but I have one. Reader(she is George's sister) accompanies Lockwood&co to the ball at Fittes and she is jealous when she sees Lockwood talking to the girl (maybe reader enemy or something)most of the time. She decides to interrupt the conversation and introduces herself as his wife, while showing the ring Lucy gave her, explaining what to do. A long chapter please😊

I am so sorry that this took so long anon 😭 (I'm also not sure about the title tbh but oh well)

a long chapter this will be! I made the reader George's adopted sister (I hope that's ok!). I also made this super long because I got so carried away and if it deviates from what you wanted then I'm so sorry my lovely

I made it just... a generic ball? I don't know if you had one specifically in mind but I thought it would fit better to have an occasion where they aren't fighting for their lives lol

sorry if your name is Maya bc that is the name of Lucy's crush in this and also sorry if your name is Steph bc she's the enemy of the reader (I had to put names in I'm sorry 🥲)

Word count: 9.8k (I'm doing my bit you guys)

Warnings: swearing, a sexual innuendo or two, bullying (mostly focused on the fact the reader is adopted), lockwood and reader love each other but they haven't done anything about it, tumblr lagged while I wrote most of this so there are probably mistakes, lockwood has some mildly self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of lockwood's suicidal tendencies, there's probably more but idk what

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to/removed from the tag list for my lockwood and co works (or drop me a message!) <3

Y/n was not happy.

She ought to have been, given the occasion, but she was very much unhappy instead.

Lucy was trying not to laugh too loudly, but was failing at her attempts to stifle just how funny she found the whole situation. "You know," she said between breathy laughs, "all of this would be a whole lot easier if you just told him how you feel."

"Nope. Not happening. Every time I try I freeze up and blabber some unintelligible words that make no sense, and I look like an idiot. So no."

The 'him' in question was Anthony Lockwood, the head of Lockwood and Co and resident of 35 Portland Row. Lucy Carlyle, George Karim and Holly Munro lived here too, and as George's sister Y/n had been invited to Lucy's 18th birthday party. It was a small party, only the five of them (six if you included the Skull, but only Lucy could hear it so Y/n didn't), but the atmosphere was lively and music was playing over the speakers George had set up. Banners and balloons stating 'Happy Birthday!' were strewn all over the living room (Y/n could already see Holly's eye twitching at the amount of confetti on the floor), and the boys were busy refilling glasses (another reason not to count the Skull - it had nothing to hold a drink with).

"You have to do it at some point though," she whispered into Y/n's ear. "But right now, you need to move." Lucy pointed in the direction Y/n was supposed to go, and she tilted her head back as she groaned.

"Remind me why you ever made me play this game?"

"Because it's my birthday, and you love me. Go on, unless you wanna forfeit."

"You're evil," Y/n hissed as she pushed herself off of the floor and made her way over to Lockwood. "I'm sorry, again."

"I'm not sure what for, to be honest. You're just playing the game." He smiled up at her from his place by the fire, and Y/n tried to ignore George's glare. "George, please stop looking at me like that. Lucy was the one who dared Y/n to sit on me." Y/n felt her face warm at his words, knowing that this night could only end in disaster for her, and decided to bite the bullet. Huffing, she turned and sat down, her back facing Lockwood as her legs went either side of his, and she let out a small yelp of surprise when his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. Lucy only laughed, loud and obnoxious, and Y/n couldn't find it in her to shoot a look, still too taken aback by the feel of being hugged by Lockwood in this way. "You alright?" he asked, voice quiet and gentle in her ear, and she felt his breath on the side of her face.

"Y-yeah. I'm alright. How are you?" She cringed at herself, but his light chuckle reverberated through her and calmed her immediately.

"I'm alright. Quite comfy, actually. You're very warm." As if to back up his point he snuggled in to her shoulder, nose rubbing against the side of her neck, and Y/n almost choked. Instead she made a sort of strangled noise, and he stopped and looked up at her as though he was about to say something. Lockwood opened his mouth, but was cut off by George.

"Okay, she's sat on him, can she go back now? I don't wanna look at this anymore."

"George, Lucy dared her to do it for the rest of the game," Holly piped up, clearly enjoying this as much as Lucy. She also knew about Y/n's feelings for Lockwood, the three of them having had multiple nights where they talked for hours about the other two members of Lockwood and Co, and hadn't wasted any time at all in joining Lucy in her teasing about Y/n's crush. "Rules are rules, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, and it's my birthday, so don't even start to think about asking to stop the game. Besides, they look quite comfortable now, wouldn't wanna make 'em move again, would we?"

"I'm very comfortable, thanks Luce," Lockwood said, his hold tightening on Y/n.

"Y-yep. Perfectly good." Lucy and Holly shared a look, stifling their laughter. George sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, huffing at the scene in front of him. Y/n's brother also knew about her feelings for his boss, and he while he wasn't exactly mad about it, he also wasn't thrilled. She knew that he meant well, and was only looking out for her (especially since Lockwood tended to throw himself directly into danger most of the time), but a little support would be appreciated.

The rest of the game went without much incident, although George did have to stick his hand in the toilet (a dare from Holly that nobody expected, although since her arrival in the house the toilets were spotless so it wasn't much of a trial), and by the time Y/n realised that she should be getting home it was well past midnight.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Okay, um- Lockwood! Hi!" He had just entered the living room where Y/n was stood clearing up (the others had gone up to their respective bedrooms), and she apprehended him in the doorway. "Can you help me call a taxi? I need to go home now and it's really late and-"

"Woah, slow down!" He placed his hands on her shoulders, a smile on his face. "Why don't you just stay over, yeah? It's what, two in the morning? You might as well sleep here and leave after breakfast. Your parents probably expected you to stay here anyway, right?" She nodded. It was a common occurrence for her to stay the night at Portland Row when visiting, since she didn't see them all that much. "So it's not a problem, really. You can take my bed if you like, save waking the others up."

"Lockwood, you really don't have to do that," Y/n started, but he cut her off.

"Nonsense. Holly's stayed too, so I'd feel bad if I turfed you out at this time of night."

"No, I mean giving me your bed. You don't have to do that." He shrugged, then moved to grab a blanket from one of the cupboards.

"I'll be alright, I'll sleep on the sofa. Seriously, Y/n/n, it's fine." He flashed her one of his smiles, and instantly she melted and gave in.

"Ugh, fine. But don't complain tomorrow morning when your back hurts," she wagged a finger at him, exhaustion winning out over guilt about taking his bed as she moved towards the door.

"Alright," he laughed, and Y/n didn't think she'd heard a better sound.

She traipsed upstairs and got ready for bed, and when she fell asleep moments after settling in she dreamed of the brown haired boy downstairs.

~~~

Y/n was sat at home in her room a day or so later when George burst in, arms filled with papers and glasses skewed on his nose.

"I've been thinking," he started, dumping the papers on the end of her bed and flopping next to her.

"Hi, Georgie, I'm doing great, thanks. What am I doing? Oh, not much, just sat here reading a book and listening to music." She sent him a pointed look to which he huffed and lightly slapped her arm.

"Shut up. Hi, how are you? Great, nice, okay. Can you listen to me now?"

"What?"

"So I've been thinking about you and Lockwood, and I've decided I don't mind too much. I mean, it's irritating, really, but technically I don't need to do a boyfriend check because I live with him so I know all his nasty habits and that, and I know that he's loyal to a fault, which is something I should probably raise with him, actually," George paused, frowning as he lost his train of thought.

"Um- okay... Where has this come from? I thought you wanted me to stop liking him?"

"Yeah, but then I had to listen to him pining after you for the last two hours at the Archives and I realised that maybe it would be better if you just got together already." Y/n stared at him in shock, processing the information her brother had just spewed.

"Wait, wait. Lockwood likes me? Are you sure?"

"Completely. This isn't some hypothesis or theory, it's fact. My sanity can prove it because it's nearly all gone."

"Okay, but... you're sure? Like this isn't a joke, right?"

"No! It's not a joke! God, you really are perfect for each other; he said the same thing you know. Didn't believe that I was telling the truth about you reciprocating his feelings. Seriously, you're both idiots for not seeing it, I mean, he let you sit on him a couple of days ago!"

"That was part of a game!" Y/n spluttered, face heating at the memory of his hands around her and his head in the crook of her neck.

"Well he wouldn't have cosied up to me, would he!" Y/n fell backwards against the headboard, hands pressed to her face as she groaned in frustration."You're still not gonna do anything about it, are you?" George was quieter now, and Y/n moved her hands slightly to peer at him through her fingers.

"Correct. I want cold hard proof before I make a proper fool of myself and have to never go to Portland Row again for fear of dying from embarrassment." Now it was George's turn to groan in frustration.

"Well somebody's just going to have to engineer a situation where you confess then, aren't they?!"

"Please, no. I will murder you while you sleep if you try anything." George was impassive when Y/n glared at him, used to her threats of death.

"Fine! I won't do anything, alright! Happy?"

"Sort of." They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, Y/n trying to read her book again but eventually getting too distracted by the mountain of paperwork that her brother hadn't touched since arriving. "What is all that, anyway?" she pointed to the end of the bed.

"Oh, my research for a case we have in a couple of days. I couldn't sit with Lockwood anymore, he was driving me insane."

Y/n rolled her eyes at her brother's dramatics. "Do you want help looking through it all?"

"Please. I have no doubts that Lockwood will be doing anything but research right now, and there's a lot to get through. At least I know that you'll stay focused."

"Come on then. Oh, are you staying for dinner? Mum's cooking tonight so you know it'll be good."

"I might do. I get caught up in this stuff anyway so we'll see what time it is. Thanks for the help, Y/n/n."

"No problem, Georgie." She ruffled his hair, laughing when he practically threw himself off of the bed to escape. He landed on the floor with a thud, only making Y/n laugh harder.

"I hate you," he said, sitting up and glaring at her through wonky glasses. "You're the devil, I swear."

~~~

Lockwood and George were cleaning the equipment after yet another successful case when George dropped the chains he was oiling and looked up at his boss.

"I don't get it," he started, making Lockwood glance up with a frown.

"Get what?"

"You barely know Y/n, and you only ever interact when she's here with us, so how are you so hopeless when it comes to my sister?"

Lockwood blushed as he remembered all the times he'd lied to his friends, telling them that he was going on a supply run or heading to the shops when in reality he was making his way to the cafe that Y/n worked at. He spent a good hour or so in there multiple times a week, and sometimes he'd offer to walk her home at the end of her shift, desperate for another few minutes in her presence. Since first meeting her not long after George joined his agency (she'd brought cake, homemade, saying that she wanted to give George a 'congrats on the new job!' present) Lockwood had wanted to be around her all the time; she was like the sun, and everything was gloomy without her. The first time he'd showed up at her place of work, he'd pretended it was a coincidence, acting surprised when he saw her behind the counter. Truthfully, he'd taken a gamble on whether or not she'd be working that day, but the blinding smile that was present on her face as she served customers (although Lockwood could tell it was a fake one) immediately told him that his gamble had paid off.

"Lockwood? Hi! How are you? How's Georgie doing, is he alright? Oh, did you want anything?"

"Just a tea, thanks love," he'd replied, not meaning for the term of endearment to slip out, but her resultant blush was enough to make him decide on repeating it. She started making a cup (he'd asked for it to take away), asking questions every now and then to get his order right, and he answered those as well as her previous questions about George. Eventually, he'd had to leave, paying for the tea he now held and exiting the shop with a promise to come back soon when she'd waved goodbye. It had become a sort of ritual for the two of them, Lockwood appearing a couple of times a week, sometimes to sit at a table with some case files, others he would just get his order to go, but he'd find a way to talk to her every time. On the days when he'd promised to walk her home she would have a cup of tea already prepared for him, sat on his usual table in the corner next to a plate of whatever pastry or cake she thought that he would enjoy. At some point over the years, Lockwood had started feeling his cheeks heat up whenever Y/n smiled at him, or butterflies start up in his stomach when their hands brushed, and eventually he'd had to accept the fact that he was falling in love with her.

"Lockwood? Lockwood! Back to the present, please!" George demanded, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face. He was sure it had only been a few seconds, but George was annoyed all the same at Lockwood's daydreaming. He huffed in frustration, picking up the chains again."You two are insufferable, do you know that? Seriously, just ask her out already. She feels the same and you know it."

"I thought you didn't want me dating your sister?" Lockwood frowned, feeling hope start to bloom in his chest.

"Yeah, well, then I had to sit and listen to you talk about her for two hours the other day and I lost my mind."

"Oh. Well. I wasn't that annoying, was I?" George only stared at him, expression saying 'Are you serious?' and Lockwood had his answer.

"Just, I don't know. You both like each other, so why not? It'll save me from the pining at least."

Lockwood was quiet for a while, mulling over George's words. "I just know that she can do better than me," he eventually said, not looking up from the boots he was polishing. "I don't want her to... regret being with me, or something."

"Lockwood, having spent the last four years listening to her talk about you I can say with confidence that she won't regret being with you. All I ask is that you dial down the suicidal tendencies on cases, yeah? I really don't want to deal with her heartbroken." George's voice was the softest Lockwood had ever heard it, and Lockwood nodded his assent.

"Alright. I'm not making any promises though Sometimes my suicidal tendencies help us stop dying instead."

"I'm not doing much better than that, am I?"

"Nope. I will be slightly less chaotic on cases and that's as much as I can do for you."

"Fine. Keep polishing those boots, you've missed a spot."

~~~

It was a few weeks later when Lucy called Y/n up in a panic, yelling random words down the phone and ranting about something that sounded important.

"Lucy, Lucy! Stop talking for a moment!" The other girl did so, promptly falling silent, and Y/n took a breath. "What's happened?"

"There's this party- ball- thing that Fittes are throwing in like, two weeks, and we have to go because we've been invited but I have nothing to wear. At all. And you always know what to do in these situations so I figured you could help me?"

She was quiet for a moment, and then said "But it's... in two weeks?"

"Yeah."

"So why are you worrying about it right now?"

"Because loads of people have been invited, Y/n! What if the perfect outfit sells out? What if I end up in something I hate because there was nothing else?"

"Wait, wait wait." Y/n sat forward on her bed, pulling the phone off of the nightstand when the cord no longer reached. "Are you trying to impress somebody?" Now it was Lucy's turn to be quiet, and Y/n scoffed in disbelief. "Oh my god, Lucy Carlyle, do you have a crush?!"

"No, I don't! Shut up! Ugh! You are so annoying, for fuck's sake!"

"You totally do! You so have a crush! Who is it? Tell me!"

"I am telling you nothing, you nosey little bastard!"

"Okay, okay! Fine! I will get this information out of you, I hope you know. When do you wanna go shopping then?"

"Today?"

"Jesus, thanks for the notice!"

"A different day then! But we are not leaving it to the last minute like you always do!"

"No, no, it's fine, Luce. Mum's gone full clean mode anyway so it gives me an excuse to get out the house. Make my siblings do the work."

"Aren't you worried about your own room coming under fire?"

"Nope. We did mine yesterday, so I know I'm safe. I'll meet you at yours in twenty minutes?"

"Yeah, alright." They hung up and Y/n rushed downstairs, grabbing her bag and coat and pulling her shoes on, and within a few minutes she was yelling to her parents that she'd be back later and laughing at her siblings when they complained about her leaving them to their mother's cleaning fury.

~~~

"So," Y/n started, her tone supposedly disinterested as she, Lucy and Holly browsed the department store racks for something for the two agents to wear. "Who is it? The person you're dressing up for?"

"Oi, quit it." Lucy sent a glare her way, but it was too late. Holly had overheard and was joining in, and for once Y/n was glad that it wasn't her being questioned about a crush.

"Are we talking about Maya?"

"No," Lucy shot back, far too quickly for it to be the truth, and her rapidly reddening cheeks weren't helping either.

"Is that her name? Oh my god, okay! Wait, what do you know about her, Holly?"

"She hasn't told you anything? Okay, okay, so she's called Maya, works at Fittes which isn't brilliant, but she's sweet enough. Lucy totally wrecked her first impression though, which was hilarious."

"It was not! I looked like an idiot!" Lucy now had her face in her hands, and Holly had moved to link arms with Y/n. It turned out that Lucy had quite literally fallen for this girl after tripping on a kerb when staring at her, and Holly had laughed so hard she had to dash to a nearby toilet.

"Yeah, no, that is hilarious, Luce," Y/n cackled, gaining some glares from other shoppers.

"You can't talk, little miss 'I sat on Lockwood's lap and fucking yelped'!" Y/n opened her mouth in protest, looking to Holly for support, but the girl only shook her head and sided with Lucy again.

"I didn't think anybody heard that," she mumbled, mortified that apparently they had heard, and worse, hadn't forgotten.

"Oh we all heard, trust me."

"Ugh, I thought I was free because Lucy has a crush now!"

"Nope. Neither of you are off the hook," Holly declared as she laughed, and Y/n and Lucy shared a look. "Why did you yelp, anyway?"

"I was surprised, okay?"

"Did he have a flare in his pocket?" Lucy snickered with an exaggerated wink, and Y/n whacked her arm.

"No, he did not! You are ridiculous! He just... pulled me backwards into a hug, and it surprised me," she explained, voice higher than usual.

"Right... okay," Holly said, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Whatever you say!"

"I'm telling the truth!" Y/n called after them as they moved on, and she rushed to catch up.

~~~

"Oh, this store is so much better than that last one, look at the range!"

"Holly, have you ever considered working in retail if you stop being an agent?"

"God no, have you heard the horror stories? No thank you."

They were wandering around the third department store of the day when Lucy gasped loudly and practically ran to a rack of clothes.

"This one. This is the one. Oh, look at it! No, no way! It has pockets?! I am in love, and I can die happy!"

"Lucy, what are you actually talking about? Because we can't see it from here," Y/n said, and Lucy turned around with a wide smile on her face as she held up the dress. It was similar to the one she'd worn a while ago, back before Holly had joined and Lockwood and Co were into theft (they needed a book from the Black Library), but Lucy had wanted a new one given the other was slightly worse for wear.

"Oh, Lucy, it's gorgeous," Holly complimented, and Y/n agreed.

"Yeah, seriously Luce. Go and try it on!"

They ushered her into the changing rooms, and while they were waiting Holly and Y/n had a seat on the chairs nearby.

"What are you going to wear?" Holly asked, and Y/n frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"To the ball? What are you going to wear? You are coming with us, aren't you?"

"Uh, I guess I can. I hadn't thought about it, to be honest. I don't think I have anything suitable to wear though."

"Well we've still got time, we can look around for something! Maybe something that will help you confess?" Holly nudged, and Y/n was just about to stop spluttering in protest and defend herself when Lucy walked out.

"Holy shit, Lucy."

"Yeah, holy shit."

"'Holy shit' in a good way or 'holy shit' in a bad way?" she asked, chewing on her lip and smoothing out the fabric.

"Good way," Y/n and Holly replied instantly.

"You look amazing, Luce, honestly," Y/n smiled, and Lucy returned it.

"Definitely that one," Holly agreed.

~~~

Holly had insisted that they keep looking around the store for something for Y/n (Lucy had agreed with Holly that Y/n 'shall go to the ball!' - she'd even declared it like the fairy godmother), and so they spent the next few hours carrying out the same painful process that they had just done with Lucy.

"Y/n? Is that you? It is!"

Y/n froze at the voice, squeezing her eyes shut in the hopes that if she just kept walking then she would be left alone.

"Y/n!"

No chance of that, then, given she'd been taken by the arm and wrapped in a hug that was entirely too fake and smelt incredibly strongly of perfume.

"Steph, hi," Y/n hoped she didn't sound too displeased to see the girl, but then again they'd never been friends, and Steph had always been a bitch to her.

"What are you doing here? I didn't think shopping was your..." she waved her hands at Y/n, "thing." She glanced up and down Y/n's body, raising her eyebrows slightly and smiling too widely.

"Not really, but I prefer it when I'm with my friends and they wanted to go out," she said, trying to figure out an escape route.

"Oh, so you're not getting anything?" Before Y/n could respond, Steph had already started talking again. "Of course you aren't, you couldn't afford it, what with your family having so many people in it."

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Lucy, please don't," Y/n hissed, trying to deter her friend from beating the shit out of her enemy.

"You have no right to talk to her like that, okay? And for your information, she is getting something, and it's going to be a dress that makes her look like the goddess she is, alright? So take your fake brands and irrelevant opinions and shove 'em up your arse!" Lucy ranted, shoving her finger in Steph's direction to emphasise her points. The girl was taken aback for a moment, blinking in shock, then scoffed.

"Whatever. Enjoy your lame dress, Karim. Or whatever your last name is, since we all know that you're adopted." Steph left, her two companions following with a click of their stupidly high heels, and Y/n felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. Lucy was practically growling after them, and Holly had brought Y/n into a proper hug, tight and comforting.

"Well she's a bitch. How d'you know her?"

"School," Y/n sniffed, trying to prevent the tears from falling. "She never liked me for some reason, or maybe I was just easy to pick on because I don't know who my real parents are, but she always made it a point to single me out."

"Right, if she ever comes back I'm punching her."

"Lucy," Y/n berated, although she was laughing a little as she did so.

"I mean it! She's awful! Now, have we looked everywhere in this store?"

"I think so, let's try the next one," Holly said.

"Guys, it's not a big deal, really. Don't let me take up more of your time."

"Y/n, stop being ridiculous. We are finding you a dress and that's that."

"Lucy," Y/n whined as the girl grabbed hold of her arm, Holly taking the other, and led her off out of the store.

~~~

"This one?"

"Hm? No, I don't think so."

"What about this one?"

"God no, I'd look like shit."

"How about-"

"Ew, nope."

Many of their discussions had continued in this manner since leaving the store where Steph had appeared, and Y/n was still trying to find a dress that she loved. There had been many that had looked great, but when she'd tried them on there was something just not quite right, and she'd taken it off with a sigh. Curfew was starting to creep up on the three of them, and Y/n was worried that she'd never find an outfit and have to either go in a potato sack or just not go at all.

"You'll find something, Y/n," Holly said, nudging her shoulder against Y/n's.

"It's not looking very likely though, is it?" Holly didn't say anything, offering a sympathetic smile instead.

"Oh. My. God. Y/n/n, what about this one?" Lucy shouted from across the store (the last one that they hadn't previously looked around). Y/n and Holly giggled at their friend's antics, walking over to see what she wanted them to see. She was holding up a deep red dress, gaping at it with her eyes wide and mouth hanging open like she was a fish. "Ok. No thinking, no questioning, find the dressing room and put this on." Lucy bundled the dress into Y/n's arms and then shoved her in the direction of the changing rooms.

"You sure about this one, Lucy?"

"I'm positive, Holly."

~~~

The two agents were waiting outside for Y/n to appear when George turned up.

"What are you two doing here? Lucy, haven't you already got a dress?"

"Oh, hi George. Yeah, I got one earlier since my other nice dress is kind of old now, but Y/n's trying one on. Why are you here?"

"Apparently my other suit isn't nice enough, so I had to get a new one. Lucky that we've been getting some high paying customers recently that I could afford it."

"When you say your 'other suit', do you mean the one that has plasm stains and holes in it from moths?"

"...Yes."

"She's been in there a while, do you think she needs help?" Holly said after a lull in Lucy and George's conversation.

"I'm fine! Gimme two seconds!" Y/n shouted, and Lucy snickered.

"Wait, why's she trying on a dress?" George frowned, finally registering the fact that his sister was in the changing room.

"Because she's coming with us to the Fittes Ball in a couple of weeks and this girl was being a bitch-"

"Stephanie?"

"Uh- yeah. How'd you know?"

"Y/n complains about her a lot. I think they're arch enemies or something."

"Oh."

"What's she got to do with finding a dress though? Attending the ball makes sense, but where does Steph come into this?"

"Lucy might have shouted that Y/n was going to get a dress that made her look like a goddess," Holly chimed in.

"Ah, I see. So now my sister is... what, trying one on?"

"Yep. You sure you're okay?" Lucy shouted the last part in the direction of a stall, just as Y/n swept back the curtain and stepped out.

"Woah," Lucy and Holly said. George was silent, staring at his sister.

"Good woah or bad woah?" Y/n asked, smiling a little as she remembered Lucy asking a similar thing earlier that day.

"Good woah, for sure," Holly said, Lucy nodding next to her.

"Oh, Georgie. I didn't know you were here," Y/n looked more nervous now, clearly wanting her brother to say something positive.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Yeah. I do. I really do."

"You look beautiful, Y/n/n."

"Thank you, Georgie."

"Definitely look like a goddess," Lucy added.

~~~

"Lockwood, hi!" Y/n hadn't expected to see him today, but he had just entered the small cafe that she worked in.

"Hi, Y/n/n, how're you?" He looked antsy, like he wanted to know something, and was shifting on his feet.

"I'm alright... you okay? You look like you have a rash," she said, starting to make him a tea the way she knew he liked it.

"Uh- what? No, I don't... I don't have a rash, I just, well, I heard that you're coming to the ball with us next week?"

"Oh, yeah. The girls convinced me to go. We went dress shopping for Lucy last week and Holly told me I should go with you all. You don't mind, do you?"

"No! No, of course I don't mind!"

"Good, 'cause I already got a dress when Lucy got hers, and it was expensive and I need a justification for getting it or Mum'll be mad." She poured the hot water in, careful not to spill any over her hands (it had happened more times today than she'd like to admit), turning and finishing the tea off, placing a lid on the top of the take away cup. She pushed it across the counter, shaking her head when Lockwood pulled out his wallet to pay. "On the house, you look like you need it." He smiled at her, making her heart flutter, and pushed a fiver into the tip jar next to her as he ignored her protests.

"Thank you. Are you going to get changed with the rest of us? Or do you want us to pick you up from yours?"

"Oh, I was gonna get changed with Holly and Lucy. I'll probably come over quite early if that's alright with you?"

"Of course, you know I don't mind having you over, love. Thanks for the tea!" he called out as he left, unaware of Y/n's blush.

~~~

"Why do girls take so long getting ready for things?"

Lockwood looked up at George's words as he entered the kitchen, folding his paper and throwing it on the table. "Not sure. I'm relatively sure they plan world domination while they do it."

"Makes sense," George shrugged, flopping into a chair and pulling at his bow tie. "They have been in Lucy's room for hours now though. Do you think we need to be worried?"

"I hear them laughing every now and then, so they're still alive at least," Lockwood replied. George hummed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. All of a sudden the two boys heard footsteps thundering on the stairs, and a moment later Lucy's head poked through the kitchen door.

"Please make your way into the hall!" she half shouted, not caring that she was only a few metres away from them and disappearing again. Lockwood and George shared a look, then slowly pushed themselves out of their chairs and moved into the hallway to stand in front of the stairs. A few minutes passed, with hushed conversation barely audible from the top of the stairs, and eventually Holly said "Oh, I'll go!" and came downstairs. She looked lovely in her dress, gold fabric shimmering as she took the steps and ended up at the bottom, Lucy following closely behind in her deep blue (a staple colour for the girl), also looking gorgeous. Lockwood frowned slightly when he realised that Y/n wasn't with them, and when her head poked over the bannister with a worried expression he started feeling nervous.

"Guys, are you sure?" she asked, biting her lip. Lucy and Holly nodded, and George gave her a thumbs up.

"Wait," Lockwood started. "Has everybody seen her dress but me?"

"Yep," George said, the girls nodding behind him.

"So why are you so nervous, Y/n/n?" he called up, frowning.

"I don't know!"

"Just come downstairs!" A loud honk sounded from outside then, and the four agents turned to look in the direction of the sound.

"That'll be the cab," Lucy piped up, heading over to the door. "We'll wait for you two," she winked, and Lockwood felt his face heat up. How did she know about his feelings for Y/n?

"Please don't break her heart, Lockwood. Or I'll deliberately throw badly the next time we're on a case."

"George, no offence, but you can't aim anyway. Maybe if you deliberately aimed badly you'd throw it the right way."

"I mean it. Remember what we talked about the other week, and don't screw it up, yeah?" George patted Lockwood's shoulder, grabbing his jacket and heading outside after the girls.

"Lockwood?"

"Yeah?"

"They've all left, haven't they?"

"Yeah." Y/n didn't answer, instead letting out a groan that made Lockwood chuckle.

"Just come downstairs, Y/n/n. We're going to be late."

"Promise you'll be nice?"

"Why would I not be nice?"

"I don't know! Just promise?"

"Okay! I promise!" He was trying to stifle his laughter in the hopes that she wouldn't take it the wrong way when Y/n appeared at the top of the landing and took his breath away. She was stunning, the dress fitting perfectly and making her look ethereal.

"Lockwood? I look terrible, don't I? I'll stay here, you guys go without me-"

"No! No, don't... you look... you look- pretty," he settled on, wincing at his awkwardness. "You look really pretty, Y/n." He didn't miss the way her smile grew, or the way his face warmed, and when she muttered a small 'Thanks' under her breath his heart stuttered. "We should, uh," he cleared his throat. "We should probably... go..." he trailed off, still blushing. She had come closer and now he could smell her perfume, and when she brushed past him to open the door he thought he might faint from the brief physical contact. What was wrong with him? He was Anthony bloody Lockwood, so why was he acting so foolishly around this girl?

"Are you coming, then? Or are you gonna keep standing there like a lemon?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm- yep."

They packed themselves into the taxi, Lockwood stubbornly ignoring Lucy's smirk as the last two available seats for him and Y/n were right next to each other (which he was entirely certain had been planned), thighs pressed together, and a few moments later they were on the road, heading for the Fittes building.

~~~

"Holy shit, this is insane, Lucy," Y/n gasped, staring around the room in wonder. "Lucy?" She looked for her friend, wondering why she hadn't said anything in response, when she saw Lucy talking to a girl.

"That's Maya," Holly whispered, taking Y/n's arm and looping it through her own.

"God, she's gorgeous. I can see why Lucy likes her." Holly hummed her agreement, taking the two of them on a lap of the room.

"Did something happen between you and Lockwood before you got in the taxi?" she asked after a pause.

"What? No, why?" Y/n's eyes were wide, heat creeping up her neck at the memory of him calling her pretty.

"He can't stop staring at you. He looks like an idiot, to be completely honest." Now her eyes were wide for a different reason, turning to find Lockwood's body in the crowd. Sure enough, he was already looking their way, and after a few moments he seemed to realise that he'd been caught, blushing and rejoining the conversation he was having with George and some agent from Rotwell.

"You sure nothing happened?" Holly asked again, eyebrow raised.

"...Yep." The other girl just laughed, clearly not believing her, and dragged her further around the room.

~~~

"You alright, Luce?"

"Not really," she said, slumping into the chair next to Y/n. "Maya's talking to some other girl and I couldn't relate to anything they were saying, so I left."

"Aw, Lucy. You have been talking to her for what, an hour already? You're not going to have everything in common," Y/n reassured her friend, offering a soft smile.

"I s'pose you're right," she started. "That's what makes a good relationship, right?" Lucy was perking up with every word, sitting up in her chair and leaning forward.

"Yeah, like Y/n and Lockwood," Holly chimed in.

"Yeah, Holly's right. Wait, like- what?! What do you mean?! We're not- he's not-" Y/n spluttered, trying desperately to gain control of the situation after the slip-up and failing miserably. Lucy and Holly were doubled over laughing, clearly finding the situation hilarious, when all of a sudden Y/n shot her arms out to either side, grabbing hold of her friends. "No, seriously, stop it now. Look," she pointed towards Lockwood, hoping the girls would pick up on what was wrong.

"Is that-?"

"I'm gonna kick her arse into next fucking we-"

"Fucking Stephanie," Y/n spat, not missing the way that she was flirting with Lockwood. She hadn't realised the bitch was here, but now that she had it was incredibly difficult to take her eyes off of the scene. Now it was her turn to be gloomy, and every attempt to talk to Lockwood ended with Steph's friends (minions) pushing her back and acting like incredibly non-threatening bodyguards, but Y/n didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of a party that she wasn't technically invited to by shoving back.

Roughly an hour and a half after first spotting Stephanie with Lockwood, Y/n was stood with her back to a wall as she miserably looked on at the two of them somehow still engaged in conversation. The worst part was, Steph didn't look like she would be ending their chat anytime soon, and didn't appear to want to leave. Whether the girl knew about his affiliation with Y/n or not, she wasn't sure, but it was making Y/n increasingly more irritated as the night went on.

"Here," Lucy said, appearing at Y/n's side. "Take this." She held her hand out, one of her rings that she always wore sat in the centre of her palm, the sapphire shining up at her from its place in the centre of the band of silver.

"Uh, why?" A frown settled on Y/n's face, unsure where Lucy's mind was going.

"Because you're gonna go up to Lockwood, big smile on your face, and ask Steph why she's fondling your husband." Y/n could only stare at her friend, wondering what the actual hell had come over her.

"But... he's not my husband?"

"She doesn't need to know that, does she? You two are practically an old married couple anyway, so what does it matter? Besides, if nothing else it's an opportunity to cuddle up to him," she said the last part with a wink, making Y/n flush as she remembered the last time she had 'cuddled up' to Lockwood.

"Well, George is over there, he's not going to play along, is he?" she attempted to find a way out of this situation that Lucy had put her in, but the agent had a solution to everything, it seemed.

"Oh, I told him about this. He's promised to go with it. There was absolutely no way I was gonna let your brother be oblivious, he's a terrible liar sometimes." Lucy was still standing with her hand out, ring gleaming up at Y/n, and she had half a mind to say no and continue suffering until she heard a loud laugh come from the other side of the room. Both girls looked for the source, and Y/n bristled when she realised that it was Steph laughing, hand placed firmly on Lockwood's arm as she leaned into him. Not thinking twice, Y/n grabbed the ring, shoved it on her finger, and marched over to where her new fake husband stood. She squeezed between Steph and Lockwood (difficult, since the other girl had practically glued herself to him) and wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to steady her heart as she felt his warmth engulf her.

"Hi, love," she smiled up at him, willing him to stop staring at her with his eyes so wide open in shock and hug her back. He stuttered for a moment, going red, and vaguely Y/n registered Steph's outraged expression in the corner of her eye and George's stifled laughter.

"Uh- hi- hello."

"Y/n? I didn't realise you were going to be here," Steph asked through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed at the interruption.

"Oh, Steph! I didn't see you there! Of course I'm here, why wouldn't I be? My husband got invited and so naturally I was his plus one!" It was petty, she knew, but totally worth it for the look on Steph's face when Y/n emphasised the word 'husband' while smiling lovingly up at Lockwood.

"...Husband?" she asked, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. Lockwood was still rigid as a pole, although he had brought his arms around Y/n's waist after she pinched him in the side. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"I second that. Husband?"

"Oh, did I not tell you?" Lockwood hadn't moved his head away from her ear, instead nuzzling further into her neck, and it was becoming difficult to think straight. "We got married!" She flashed the ring at Steph, delighting in both the pure, unfiltered shock on her face and also the way in which Lockwood had moved his hands to hold her body closer to his.

"Well- I- okay then. But one question, for Lockwood?" He pulled his head up, dopey smile on his face as he nodded for Steph to continue.

"Why would you ever marry someone like her? I mean, you know that she's adopted, right?"

Y/n could practically feel George bristle behind her and get ready to punch Steph's lights out, but Lockwood remained calm, his expression sharpening and spine straightening as he took Steph in.

"I don't see how her not being biologically related to her parents affects how much I love her, do you?"

"It's just that-"

"I married Y/n because of who she is, not because of her family, although having George around is wonderful," Lockwood cast a smile at Y/n's brother before continuing. "She's the most incredible person I have ever met, and she far outshines you in every way and I think you know that, and you're jealous of it. I know that I'm jealous of how incredible you are, darling," he turned to Y/n, using the hand that wasn't around her waist to push back a lock of hair, his fingers lingering for a few moments more than was necessary as he smiled softly at her. "And quite honestly, Steph, if you can't agree with me on that then I don't think we have anything else to talk about, do we?" It was a rhetorical question, Lockwood already turning away and linking his hand with Y/n's as he dragged her to the side of the room, but they could hear Steph spluttering being them as they went.

"So," he started once they were far enough away. "What was that all about?" He hadn't let go of her hand, and his thumb had started softly tracing patterns over their intertwined fingers.

"What?"

"I don't remember marrying you, Y/n, unless it happened when I was really drunk or sleep deprived," he joked, although something in his eyes was searching for any hint of truth to the words in her face.

"I just- she's- I-" Y/n took a breath, trying to figure out how to explain the whole thing to him without him getting mad or laughing at her. "Steph's always hated me, and Lucy knows that-"

"What's Lucy got to do with this?" She huffed at him, small frown appearing on her face.

"If you let me finish then you'd know!"

"Alright! Alright!"

"Yeah, so Lucy knows that Steph hates me, and I hate her, and you two were talking for so long and she was all over you and I couldn't keep watching, so Lucy gave me this ring that I think is actually one of mine that she stole," she frowned down at her hand, going off on a tangent, "and she told me I should go over and say we were married to get rid of Steph."

Lockwood didn't say anything, instead just staring at her with a blank expression, and Y/n looked down at their still linked hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a while.

"Don't be," he whispered back, using his free hand to lift her chin up. "I'm just a little annoyed, to be honest."

"Oh, god, I really am sorry, Lockwood! I didn't mean to make you upset or anything, I just got pissed off with her and-"

"No! No no no, stop right there. I'm not annoyed at you, darling, never you. I'm annoyed at myself for not coming up with that plan earlier. She was really starting to piss me off too, and I kept hoping that George would intervene or something and he never did- I'm going to have to talk to him about that," Lockwood frowned, looking in her brother's direction. "I'm also... I'm annoyed that this is how I tell you that-"

"Here you are! I was wondering where you two had run off to!" George appeared, bright smile on his face, and Y/n couldn't stop the glare that came onto her face. Tell me what? If only George had turned up a few moments later, then she would know what Lockwood wanted to say. "We should probably find the others, party's wrapping up now and I'm craving my bed." Lockwood heaved a sigh, then nodded in agreement, following after George as her brother tried to find Lucy and Holly, casting a slightly pained glance over his shoulder at Y/n.

Tell me what?!

~~~

The journey back to Portland Row was uneventful since everybody was exhausted, although Lucy was practically buzzing in her seat because Maya had passed on her number, telling Lucy to call her.

"This means something, right?" she exclaimed as they piled through the front door. "I have a real chance with her, don't I?"

"Yes, Lucy. Yes you do," Y/n yawned, leaning slightly on Lockwood to take her heels off. Why she'd ever let Holly convince her that heels were needed when she could have worn her trainers instead she wasn't sure, but she breathed a sigh of relief when the first one was finally off. She wobbled for a moment trying to undo the strap on the other one when Lockwood steadied her, crouched down, and took her leg into his hands as his fingers worked the clasp. A few moments later he was done, gently pulling the shoe off of her foot, and although he had only had his hands on her for what couldn't have been more than ten seconds Y/n could feel her cheeks heating up and her heart beating faster.

"Lockwood, what the fuck are you doing?"

"George, they're having a moment, alright? Leave 'em alone," Lucy hissed, taking him by the arm and dragging him upstairs, hushed apologies whispered as he tripped and face planted due to her harsh tugging.

"Good night you two, I'll see you in the morning," Holly said, following after her coworkers and leaving Y/n and Lockwood in the entrance hall alone for the second time in the last twenty-four hours.

"You're not going to bed, are you?" Y/n asked, a knowing smile on her face as she looked at Lockwood. He shrugged, heading towards the library instead of up the stairs.

"I'm not feeling too tired, to be honest," he replied.

"You never feel tired, I swear. Do you ever sleep?" She mock gasped. "Are you a vampire? Is that why you're so pale and are always awake at night?" She broke off into a fit of giggles, exhaustion making her mildly hyper.

"No, I am not a vampire," Lockwood laughed, shaking his head at her antics. "Go on, you should head up. Unlike me you can't run on tea and tea alone."

Y/n nodded, heading for the stairs, but stopped a little way up as she remembered something. "Lockwood?"

He paused in the doorway of the library, turning to face her with one hand still on the handle. "Yeah?"

"What were you gonna tell me before George came over? At the ball? You said you were annoyed that it took you so long to tell me something." A frown had worked its way onto her face, but Lockwood's was filled with a smile.

"Go to bed, darling. I'll see you in the morning." He disappeared into the library, leaving Y/n standing on the staircase staring at the place he had just been.

~~~

The next morning Y/n woke to an empty room, Lucy and Holly nowhere to be seen in the attic. She laid in bed for a little while, soaking in not having to get up and go to work, but eventually the need for food grew too strong and she was forced to start her day.

The kitchen was empty of George, too, and a short investigation led to finding a scribbled note on the thinking cloth that Holly, Lucy and George had gone for a grocery run at the supermarket. That left Lockwood, who was either hiding away in the house or had gone off on his own somewhere. Y/n's question was answered a few minutes later as she was pouring hot water into a mug for tea, and she nearly spilled the liquid all over her hands when Lockwood appeared and asked her to pour a cup for him.

"Shitting hell, Lockwood! Where did you come from?"

"Oh, I was downstairs. Doing a spot of rapier practice. Thanks," he gratefully accepted the mug that Y/n handed him, smiling brightly at her over the edge. She tried desperately to ignore the flush to his skin (and the mental images of Lockwood training), and turned back to her own mug of tea, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment in the hopes that she could go back to thinking normal thoughts. "You alright?"

"Hm? Oh, yes! Yeah, yep. I'm fine," she exclaimed, wincing at how the words came out. Lockwood stifled a snort (unsuccessfully) and took a sip of tea, yelping a moment later.

"Shit, that's hot!"

"Why wouldn't it be? You idiot!" Y/n was laughing fully, not bothering to hide how amusing she found the whole situation, and Lockwood was glaring at her from where he stood fanning his mouth. "You literally watched me pour boiling water into that like, a minute ago!"

"I know! I know! Stop laughing, will you? I feel bullied. I'm being bullied."

He took a glass out of the cupboard, filling it up with cold water from the tap and taking a long drink. They stood in silence for a while after that, Lockwood taking tentative sips of his tea while Y/n took large gulps, trying not to laugh at him when the memory of his reaction came back. They were very rarely alone in the house, with at least one other person somewhere and about to walk in, and Y/n decided that Lockwood had nowhere to go so she might as well corner him.

"Why didn't you answer me last night? When I asked what you wanted to tell me?"

He froze momentarily, the tips of his ears going pink as he hid behind his mug and scratched at the back of his head. "It doesn't matter, Y/n/n. Really."

"Well it matters to me, Lockwood. If nothing else the not knowing is killing me. Also I had just dragged you into a marriage with me, and while I do feel bad about that I also feel that you owe me this as well."

"You didn't drag me into a marriage, you surprised me with one," he joked, clearly stalling.

"Okay, fine, but seriously what were you going to say before my idiot brother came over?"

"I was just... going to say that..." he mumbled the last part, all the words smushed together and said quietly so that Y/n had trouble picking them out.

"Sorry, I genuinely could not hear you for the life of me Lockwood," her expression was apologetic, and he sighed through his nose as he looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes before making a decision.

"I was going to say that I was annoyed that it took me so long to tell you that I love you."

"I love you too, Lockwood," Y/n frowned, wondering why he looked so beaten up about it. The five of them often told each other that they loved them, the words thrown around casually all the time.

"No, I mean- I love you, Y/n. To the point that George punches me in the arm sometimes because I won't shut up about how amazing or funny or kind or smart you are."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He hesitated for a few seconds, then spoke up again. "If you don't... I don't want this to ruin our friendship if you don't feel the same way though."

"Why wouldn't I feel the same?"

"You haven't said anything and it's- it's freaking me out!"

"Well I do feel the same! I'm just also freaking out because you love me too!"

"We're a mess, aren't we?" Lockwood laughed.

"Absolutely."

"So- So if I asked you on a date... would you-"

"Yes. Sorry, I- you can finish."

"I mean I think I got my answer, to be honest." He smiled softly at Y/n, placing his mug down and slowly coming over to where she leaned against the countertop. She reached her arms up and draped them around his neck, bringing him into a hug, and his own hands found their way to her waist. His eyes flicked between hers and her lips, and then he was whispering "Can I kiss you?" and leaning in when she nodded, pressing his lips to hers gently. They didn't rush, taking their time as they kissed softly, Lockwood's fingers brushing the skin just under her jumper and Y/n's fingers tangling in his hair, and when they pulled away for air they stayed close, foreheads bumping against each other.

~~~

When Holly, Lucy and George got home just over an hour later, arms laden with shopping bags, the silence was deafening.

"I really hope they haven't killed each other," Holly frowned, peering up the stairs as if doing so would help her find their missing friends.

"Maybe they've finally got together and are on a date," Lucy exclaimed, poking George in the side when he wouldn't move out of the way of the cupboard that she needed to open.

"Ow! I'm torn about that. On the one hand if they do get together I'll be glad they've stopped pining, on the other they'll be insufferable. You know what Lockwood's like, all lovey-dovey and attention giving, and Y/n will soak it up like a dry sponge."

"Oh, I found them!" Holly poked her head through the kitchen door, neither Lucy or George having noticed her leave. She lead them to the library, motioning for quiet as she pushed the door open. "They must have been reading and got tired. They totally confessed, just look at them!"

Lockwood and Y/n were curled up (somehow) on the larger of the two armchairs in the library, limbs entangled and hanging off of the arms and a book dangled in Lockwood's free hand, the other wrapped around Y/n keeping her safely tucked into his chest as the two of them slept. George looked like he was trying to be upset, but Lucy could see the smile he was holding off at the sight in front of them.

"We should leave them to it, I s'pose," Lucy murmured, pulling the door shut softly with a small click. "You alright, George?"

"Just thinking about how horrible things will be with them finally together," he replied, rolling his eyes and heading back into the kitchen to start dinner.

"He's not really upset, is he," Holly said, more stating it as a fact than posing a question.

"Nope. He's gonna be singing while he cooks, I can guarantee it."

Sure enough, barely five seconds after Lucy said the words, singing could be heard from behind the closed kitchen door alongside the clash of pots and pans.

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #idiots in love

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historianthesecond · 11 months

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Hello would you be open to doing something like that one scene in KoS where Nikolai dives in a lake to save a princess (reader) cuz she’s one of the potential brides visiting ravka but reader doesn’t really like Nikolai, she thinks he’s a stuck up royal getting sent all these princesses to choose from and so after he saves her from drowning they have a heart to heart in front of the fireplace?

Hi! I'm so sorry for taking so long 😭

Tbh I loved this idea so much 🥹💕💕 and of course I got a little overboard, but nevertheless, I hope you liked it :3 I'm thinking about making a follow-up part too kshdjdhd

The First to Fall (In Love)

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Princess!Reader

You couldn’t blame your advisor for pushing you overboard.

Lady Stell wanted results, and if you weren’t to give them to her and your father, then she’ll seek and harvest them herself. After all, she had married almost all of your elder siblings to their first prospect with pure willpower and cunning convincing. Though when either of those would work with you, she was cornered to use more concrete actions.

She wasn’t at fault for wanting to avoid your father’s rage and the possibility of being dismissed as unreliable.

It was yours for accepting to come to Rakva for a celebration you were sure wasn’t part of the official festivities of the country. Only meaningful gazes were exchanged between your parents during dinner just before they offered you to visit the Grand Palace as a sign of cooperation between the two kingdoms.

They never told you what kind of cooperation they were thinking about. Not until you saw Lady Stell abording the ship as one of your advisors that you knew their secret intentions. Sadly, it was too late to backtrack your decision.

It was your fault to give in to your curiosity and lean in against the wooden rail to see the golden koi Lady Stell was pointing at, allegedly as big as a puppy. But when you gazed down, the fish was gone, scared by your approaching figure falling into the lake.

A muffled yelp, then a big splash. Perhaps some visitors would have seen the swirl of lavender skirts and heard the creak of the wooden rail of the boat as you toppled over.

The water was cold despite the mist that emerged from its surface, sapphire waters becoming darker and darker no matter how much you tried to swim upwards. Your dress was too heavy, layers of wool and cotton to keep the cold autumn air away as you were more used to the warmer climate of your natal kingdom.

Exhaustion settled in your arms after a few moments; your legs were already tangled in your skirts. Would someone come for you when the Rakvan King decided he wouldn’t get his suit wet? You doubted Lady Stell knew you couldn’t swim, an activity that never appealed to you ever since you almost drowned in one swimming lesson many years ago.

It would’ve been very funny to see the plan fail, if your life weren’t at stake, of course. Despite the amount of shame, you were to feel the moment you break into the surface, part of you hoped for it. Because you didn’t wish to get married—at least, not into the Lantsov family.

Your family had been struck by tragedy when your sister Farelisse got engaged to Prince Vasily. The vain and presumptuous Vasily. You doubted the Young King would be any different, as the traits repeated in the family tree, from father to elder brother, to younger brother, surely. After all, the apple never fell further from the tree.

And upon arriving at the Grand Palace, with the other parties presenting expensive gifts and graceful daughters to his distracted, almost bored, figure sitting on the throne, you were sure of your judgment. The Lantsov continued to be reckless rulers and haughty courtesans, idling between luxuries and privileges they didn’t truly deserve.

Farelisse had told you about Prince Vasily’s ill fame of pleasure houses and racehorses, fancy gambling, but gambling, nonetheless. Seeing that the His Majesty had disappeared for years when he was supposedly enrolling in the prestigious University of Ketterdam, you could only imagine how much he had squandered the royal coffers on his little adventures.

Did the King take after both his role models and was also akin to being surrounded by pretty women? Because it seemed he was, with all the women he fancied into his own house to play with them as he pleased.

Good thing he was equally charming and easy on the eyes—not that you cared, of course.

And right now, seeing his outline entering the water, diving toward you, His Majesty wished to play the hero.

The King was a very good swimmer, though perhaps everyone was a master swimming in your eyes, his figure cutting through the water as firm hands took your arms, tugging you upwards so he could embrace you by the waist.

Good thing it was dark down here, so he couldn’t notice your growing flustered state. The water didn't help to disguise the grasp of his fingers pressed into your soft skin, wet clothes becoming thin and tight into your bodies.

He wasn’t supposed to touch any of you, not until he had made up his mind about who he will be courting, so having you between his arms was overwhelming. You dug your nails into his shoulders in desperation, and you saw him frowning at the presence of such shameless behavior, eyes shifting between the surface and your face as if saying that you were so close, or that you should at least try to kick if you wanted to ascend faster.

Your lungs burned from holding your breath, and the surface seemed too far away still, as if time had slowed down on purpose. Some bubbles escaped between your lips when you opened your mouth, muscles sore from keeping it forcefully close. But at least the water seemed clear, though you weren’t sure if you felt warmer now because of the water or of because the King's warmth body.

He heaved you first, your face breaking the surface seconds before him, one of his hands on your waist, the other holding your thighs, to balance your body when you curled around him, coughing water over his shoulder, feeling his ragged breaths against your neck.

When your mind cleared enough that the borders of your vision wouldn’t be all blurry, you pushed him away hastily, blaming your adrenaline for the frenetic heartbeats roaring in your ears. The wooden planks of the dock were sturdy and warm, slightly slippery with covered moss as your fingers enveloped one of the posts to propel you up.

Your muscles felt sore, your legs wobbly, but you climbed onto the dock alone, too embarrassed to accept the help of any of the King's guards.

Some seconds after you’ve sat with a dead gaze upon the water, you heard a wet plop next to you, from where you saw the King sitting on the wood boards warm from the weak rays of sunlight peeking between a group of clouds. The wind blew stronger in this part of the Palace where there were no tall buildings to seek coverage, and you couldn’t stop your teeth from clattering, layers of soaked clothes hung to your body.

“Are you alright, My Lady?” he asked softly, looking at you with a gentle smile, blonde hair dripping around his forehead. “Let’s get a Healer to check on you, shall we?”

You shook your head, afraid that the words wouldn’t come out, still feeling the strained muscles from your intense coughing. “No, no, I—I’m fine.” Because you wished to forget what had just happened, and bringing attention to it was the exact opposite of that. But you couldn’t be rude after he just saved your life, so you added after an awkward pause: “… Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The boat you were in was settling next to the dock, and you could see Lady Stell’s black hair moving with each stride as she descended the ramp. There was no way she would let you waste an opportunity of drawing the King’s attention so easily.

“I insist,” he said. “You’re an important guest and your well-being is my priority. Besides,” the King added, eyes traveling along your figure with a concerned look. “You’re shivering, my Lady. I should get you warmed up with a hot drink, so you don’t get sick.”

Lady Stell arrived with your ladies-in-waiting, their hands helping you stand up. For a moment, you thought if it was possible to push your advisor into the lake to create a distraction and flee the scene.

Not that it would help you to blend in as you’ve been doing ever since your arrival.

“Apologies, Moi Tsarevich.” She bowed. “The Lady is quite shy, but she would be very grateful for all your attention and concern, Your Majesty,” she said, grey eyes looking sternly at you, lips pressed in a thin line as if she were expecting you to talk back.

Exemplary princesses didn’t talk back.

You’re being ungrateful, you heard your mind nagging, your eyes drawn to your bare feet, shoes forever lost in the depths of the lake. All they ask is for you to become a Queen, and you’re being an entitled brat. All the people of your nation are giving to you, and this is how you’ll pay them?

You bit the inside of your cheek, head low. Of course, they were right.

You felt the King’s gaze for a moment, and then he walked away, nodding and requesting to build a fireplace and to fetch some blankets for the both of you, just as a change of clothes.

Part of you thought that perhaps that was it all. He had delivered the girl safely to her ladies, he was already the gentleman and the hero. He would let you in peace as you wished, and then you only had to endure a couple of weeks half-hiding behind the pillars of the ballroom, withdrawn to the gardens and lonely balconies on parties where nobody would think of looking. The King would have probably forgotten your face already.

So you let yourself be guided toward a turn in the cobblestone path running along the garden, fluffy blankets pressed around your hair and body as the servants prepared a fireplace neatly outlined with rocks.

You rubbed the soft fabric of the blanket against your cheek, thinking that perhaps they could absorb you, hide you from the upcoming scold of Lady Stell when you returned to your chambers. For now, you tried to relish in the crackling fire, hands extended toward the flames.

In front of you appeared a pair of polished boots, followed by a hand with the Lantsov emerald shining offering you a glass of amber liquid.

Looking up, you saw the King, his eyes shining. “This will warm you from the inside, My Lady.”

Who could say no to a King? You thought bitterly, taking the glass, careful not to touch his hand.

He noticed, of course, and you hope he thought you wished not to have more inappropriate contact with him after the last events. Though it was only half the story. The rest of your reasons were tucked in a dark corner of your mind, thoughts that were starting to filter when he sat next to you on the blanket.

You huddled closer inside the fabric. From all the empty seats around the fireplace, he had to choose the one closest to him.

“My Lady,” he said after taking a sip of his beverage. “May I ask you a question?”

You just did. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

He leaned in closer to the fire, elbows resting against his knees. “Have I done something to make you avoid me?” he muttered low enough so anybody else could hear the conversation. “If so, I truly apologize. The last thing I want is for any of my guests to feel uncomfortable.”

You doubted that could ever happen with him being so close.

*~*~*~*

“You’re too kind, Your Majesty, but everything is alright,” you said, and Nikolai had to contain a chuckle. You were a terrible liar, and he was a very acute observant.

“Without trying to be rude—I don’t believe you, My Lady. You can’t even look me in the eyes when we’re talking.” Not strike up a conversation with him in any of the past dinners.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, the outline sharp against the covering blanket. “You heard it, I’m shy.”

This time, Nikolai didn’t contain his amusement. He wasn’t supposed to tease his guests, but perhaps that would be the only way you could talk more than three words in his direction.

“I think falling into the river is a very bold move for you to be considered shy,” he heard himself saying.

It had been a surprise that the avoiding Princess suddenly had a change of heart and decided to gain his attention in such a… concise way. Though he was sure it was somebody else’s idea, that you only were a piece of the puzzle your advisors had to complete.

“It was an accident.”

“One too common in novels, don’t you agree?”

You glared at him, the first time he felt acknowledged. The gesture was borderline rude, but he felt relieved of not being ignored anymore—such feeling resurfaced not many good feelings from his childhood that he preferred to ignore. “Are you accusing me of something, Your Majesty?”

He smiled. “Ah! There is it. You have beautiful eyes, My Lady,” he said because it was true.

While choosing the people who will be attending his festival, his advisors had told him that he had inherited your mother's beauty, and now that you were so close, he can testify that it was true.

If only he could see your smile instead of that resigned pout.

“Have you ever thought that perhaps I don’t like you?” you muttered, the edge of your words coming sharp and hurtful like the edge of his sword.

“If I can be honest with you, my Lady, yes. That idea has certainly crossed my mind, but I wasn’t sure.” He shrugs, trying to brush off the sudden pressure that stepped on his chest. “Usually, the people who despise me try to kill me, so this is new.”

He took another sip of his beverage, hot brandy to warm him from the frigid waters of the lake, to comfort his mind as he tried to come up with a plan. “I’m sure it must be difficult to have a pleasant stay in the Palace if you have such an opinion of me.”

You sighed, playing with the glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. "My father wouldn't have had it any other way.”

Your Father, the King of Rewfel.

His playful aura had changed, with his eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed in a pondering line as he gazed at your dress, overly warm, and the way you were leaning in closer to the fire, still cold.

The lavender and teal blue colors of your dresses mimic the tropical bays surrounding the kingdom. Rewfel the land of dreams, home of many gemstone mines and the so-called Capital of the Arts, with the myriad of artistic academies that had trained many renowned artists whose pieces were showcased in the private gallery of the Grand Palace.

Nikolai wondered if you had an artistic inclination, too.

A tiny, amicable kingdom thanks to your grandfather and father’s attempts to woven political bonds with every nation possible, ties that strike to be unbreakable.

“Then I’m afraid we’re in a little predicament, my Lady.” You were one of the most suitable people for him to marry, as your dowry would be bountiful and well-received for the rapidly drying coffers. Not to mention the social influence of your family, even within the Rakvan high society.

By marrying you, he could secure a steady income from the importation taxes of gemstones coming from your kingdom, which could be used for public affairs.

The problem was that you didn’t seem very thrilled about the idea. But why? Surely you had warmed up to the idea of an arranged marriage at this point.

“I don’t think either your father or my Council would be very happy to know that we aren’t on good terms.”

Always the diplomatic. With some luck, he'll get you to open up about the reason behind such an impression about himself. Had he done something rude toward you without noticing? Surely his Triumvirate would have made him known of such a slip.

Your shoulders sagged. “My father considers we aren’t on good terms already,” you said, so low he had to lean closer to you. “Ever since… well, the last engagement.”

The last engagement—?

Oh. That was the reason he had doubted inviting you, but he didn't wish to be in your father's bad book if Nikolai ignored that his younger daughter was still unmarried when he was looking for a bride.

He wasn't there when your elder sister got engaged to Vasily, much less when she broke off the engagement due to Vasily’s overindulgent behavior. Nikolai can only imagine all the things your sister confided in you after her return to Rewfel; all the pitying looks of the other nobles when she assisted to another party alone because her fiancé was enjoying himself in Caryeva.

For the first time in too long, Nikolai didn't know what to say. It wouldn't be good to apologize, because not only he wasn't guilty of anything, but the person wronged wasn’t here anymore.

“Princess…” he started. It was logical that you didn’t wish to be here, let alone in the same situation your sister was. But he wasn’t like his elder brother, he wasn’t even like the last King, and part of him felt hurt that you would assume so of him. “Princess, I know I have no right to say this to you, but I assure you that I’m not like that. My family had committed many mistakes that I don't wish to repeat, and that prodigal behavior is one of them.” He wanted you to see him, to at least give him a chance to prove himself.

He'd been proving himself to everybody, every day, so what was another one added to the list?

“I understand if you don’t believe me—why would you when I’m having you all inside my home? But at least let me try to prove your assumptions wrong.” Nikolai didn’t wish to make you miserable in the upcoming weeks of your stay in the Grand Palace, and he considered, deep down, that he could strike a closer bond with you, that he could achieve being cast in a new light, one that would set him apart of his family that so much pain has caused on Rakva, and now, even beyond.

You held your head low, eyes wandering across the fireplace. Sometimes he did that, too, gazing across the view before him while pondering his options.

There weren’t many here, of course. You could still antagonize him, and return home without his promise of marrying you—but what would your father do? If he cast away your elder sister for not securing a royal marriage, he would surely do that again.

Or you could give him a chance, and both would end up beneficiated from the deal.

Nikolai wasn’t sure about marrying you yet, but at least the idea didn't sound so bad to him.

For what he knew about the report about you, at least you liked to sail.

“Please, Princess,” he muttered. “Let me be your friend.” Nikolai held his glass toward you, a gentle smile tugging his lips.

You peeked from under the makeshift hood of the blanket, your eyes reflecting the everchanging flames of the hearth. “I can try,” you muttered in what felt like an abysmal silence. And then you nodded as if to convince yourself.

By then some locks of hair had already dried, pocking from underneath the blanket, half-covering your eyes. For a moment, he itched about brushing them away.

He grinned, gesturing toward a servant so they could change your cold beverage for a warm one. “Let’s drink, then, my Lady. For our friendship.”

Sheepishly, you toasted, the glasses clinking as your knuckles almost brushed each other with the movement.

“Do you like it, Princess? It’s the tastiest brandy in the country and my favorite.”

You nodded, the blanket slipping out your shoulders when you started to feel warmer.

Nikolai leaned against the blanket that was already making him sweat—or perhaps he was nervous, who knew?

"I was thinking, my Lady, what about having a walk in the garden tomorrow? I’ve heard you’re very fond of flowers, and Mother was, too. We take care of her garden and the conservatory, and it would be an honor if you would like to see it.”

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. It was too soon, and he was pushing you too fast. Nikolai was about to brush off his idea, but then he heard your voice, clearer than ever:

“I would love to,” you said, and he had to blame the brandy and the fire for making him feel all funny and warm. But perhaps with the dimming light of the dusk, you couldn't see the light blush expanding on his cheeks.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x you #shadow and bone x you

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