#(((Your lovely comments always lighten my day and encourage me to work harder))) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soybeantree · 3 years

Text

pairing: do kyungsoo x (reader)

genre/warning: mentions of death, adoption, fluff, myths and legends!au

word count: 6k

description: the woods were much, much older than the stories about him, and the magic that brought a child to you was told to be eternal. but the bond between you and kyungsoo would outlast them both.

a/n: december installment of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. - x

White covers the wood. The branches bend under the weight of the fresh snowfall, and the floor glistens like a diamond in the sunlight. The air holds the chill of the first winter snow, ready to burn lungs and bite cheeks. But silence filters through the trees. The first humans have yet to wake and leave their mark in the pristine world.

You walk through the wood, your footsteps making neither a sound nor leaving a trace. You wave towards the snow and encourage it from branches which are ready to snap. You place a hand upon the trunks and listen for the sound of the hibernating occupants. You are the Queen of the Winter Wood.

A bird chirps on a nearby branch. Its blood red feathers are a shock against the white. It cocks its head to the side and chirps again. You nod, and it flies to another branch. You follow the bird through the wood until it stops on a tree with a large white mound beneath it. The bird whistles one long sorrowful note.

Brushing aside the snow, you find a shock of dark hair. You pause and whisper an apology. Winter must come. The world must rest for a season and be replenished, but some things find their eternal rest in winter. You brush away the snow until the tiny figure sits huddled before you. Lips of dark indigo are pressed together while snowflakes glue eyes shut. Leaning forward, you place a gentle kiss on each eyelid and one upon the mouth. As you lean back, the blue lightens and the eyelids flutter open to reveal white irises.

“Good morning little one.” You greet as skin thaws and fingers move. She blinks. “The world is very different today. If you would like, you can come with me. I have a place for you to stay

where you can find your place in this new world.” She watches you, her gaze appraising your thick cloak of green velvet and the forest of gold thread embroidered upon it. Her cloak is nothing more than patches held together with thread and a prayer. It was no match for Winter’s first snow. You offer your hand, and she grasps it.

As she follows you through the wood, she glances back at the way you came and at her feet. “It is best for us to leave no trace.” You explain. “Humans come up with all types of frightening stories about the winter.” The black of her irises nearly obscure the white when you mention humans. “Like you, I was human once, and like you, I am no longer.” Her grip tightens, and you squeeze back. “There is no need for fear. Neither you nor I are monsters. Perhaps, I should tell you how I became the Queen of the Winter Woods. I think it would help with your fear.” Her lips, the color of the noon sky, purse, but she nods.

The woods pass around you. The trees come to life with the sound of birds. Tiny creatures scurry across the snow, leaving their tracks. “I wonder if I should start at the beginning or the true beginning.”

She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her brow furrows as she tries again.

Patting the hand securely held in yours, you encourage her. “Your voice will return with time.” She scowls and kicks at the snow, leaving her first mark. You pause and crouch down beside her. “I know this is confusing. Change is always confusing at first, but it will get better. In the meantime though, I will make my questions easier to answer. One,” and you hold up one finger, “I can start at the beginning. Two,” and you hold up two fingers, “I can start at the true beginning.” She holds up two fingers.

“The true beginning starts here.” You spread your arms to encompass the wood. “When I was a little older than you.” Standing, you retake her hand and continue on your way.

Your mother and father lived in a small town at the southernmost border of the kingdom and beyond the Winter King’s reach. Only when the townsfolk boasted that he would never dare come to their town did snowfall. The townsfolk stopped boasting and shushed any who thought to mention his name. Your mother was from the north where the Winter King holds dominion. She had been content to live with a snowless winter when she first married your father, but after you were born, she bemoaned that her daughter would never know snow. So, one winter, they travelled north to spend it with your grandparents.

You loved the snow. Each morning, you woke early and would stay out until dark. You would return to the cabin with frozen toes, chapped cheeks, and cracked lips. Your grandmother would laugh as she rubbed lotions into your abused skin and tease that if you continued one day you would return a snow maiden.

The first day in the snow, you met Kyungsoo. He was your age, you guessed. You thought him an orphan because he had no coat over his thin frame and no cap on his dark mop of hair. He refused to warm himself in your grandparents’ home, as well as the coat off your back, even though you said you had another at home. After accepting that he was fine in the cold, you two began to play together. He would ride on your sled; you would build snow forts; and you beat him in every snowball fight.

One week was all you had with him. Your mother came looking for you. Night had fallen without your return. She screamed when she saw you with Kyungsoo and fell on her face. He told you to go with your mother, and then he was gone. Your mother was in hysterics by the time you reached the cabin. You had no idea why your always happy mother was crying and screeching and refused to let you go. You were scared and wanted to go to your grandmother and have her rub her lotions into your skin – your feet were hurting – but your mother held you close as she continued to sob. The next day you left and never returned. Your mother never mentioned snow again.

“That is the true beginning little one.” You finish as you reach your sledge. “It paints a bit more frightening picture than how the story ends, but that is how it happened.”

Her reaction to your story is lost in her amazement of the sledge. She stares mouth open, her hand slacks in yours. The spray of a summer fountain, frozen and spun like sugar, form the body of the sledge. The ice, delicate enough to fool one into thinking it fragile, grabs the sun’s light and glows, promising a false warmth. At the helm stand creatures of snow and air which appear as reindeer when they choose to appear at all. They appear now for the child’s wonder and shake their manes, sending fresh snow upon the ground.

“I would be happy with the sled I had as a child, but my husband gifted me this as an anniversary present. So, I use it.” You shrug. “At least until I decide to learn how to travel on the winter wind.”

Throwing a wink at the girl, you lead her forward. She shies away from the ice. “I suppose you must think sitting on ice will be cold.” She nods. “That was when you were human. Does the snow feel cold upon your toes?”

She glances at her feet. In the excitement of the morning, she had forgotten the holes in her shoes. Her toes have trudged across the wood without any discomfort. She shudders, and you place a finger under her chin, guiding it up.

“I know little one. Remember what I said about change?” She does. “This is another change. This one is a little harder. I still go out in a cloak with a full lining of fur.” You raise the hem of your cloak and brush it against her nose. She gives a soundless giggle. “But I have no need for it. Would you like a ride in my sledge? I promise it is faster than any sledge you have ever seen.”

You climb in first, covering the seat with your cloak. She nestles and wraps the cloak around her shoulders. The reindeer race across fields of fresh snow. The world blurs around you, wind buffeting your cheeks and dancing through your hair. The reindeer run on, knowing where to go without any prompting from you which is good as you never did learn to drive a sledge. On your journey, you continue your story, starting with the beginning.

When the snow appeared on your doorstep on the first morning after the Autumnal Equinox, your father brushed it aside with a smile. “Winter will come early this year,” he said, and you nodded because it eased his shoulders.

When you went into town, you glanced at the doorsteps of the shopkeepers, but none had a pile of fresh swept snow beside them. You knew better than to comment this to your mother. Her smile grew tight across her face the further you walked, and you feared it would tear her cheeks. She rushed you through errands that morning, and when you returned home, she locked herself in the bedroom with your father.

They argued. Their voices carried into the living area where you sat darning a sock by the fire.

The words lost their meaning as they travelled through walls, but you could guess at them. Snow on the doorstep. The Winter King. You shivered despite the fire. Your fingers numbed, and you could no longer feel the needle between your fingers.

Throwing the unfinished sock back in your work basket, you stood and headed to the kitchen. Dinner needed making, and your mother had enough worrying her. You began the preparations, and when your parents finally emerged, dinner was ready. You ate in silence. The stew tasted of snow and sent a chill through you.

As you climbed into your bed ready to sleep and wake to find this day had been a dream, your mother came and sat down beside you. She wrapped your hands in hers. They were warm, but their warmth failed to sink into you. A sob slipped from her smiling lips. “Everything will be okay.” She promised as she placed as a kiss on each finger. You laid in your bed shivering beneath an extra quilt and wondered why she should make such an impossible promise.

The next day the snow returned, but now it covered the full yard. Your father swept it from the doorstep and shoveled a path to the front gate. Your neighbors paused on their way and whispered to one another. Their words were lost on the wind, but you could guess at them.

“Snow in Autumn. The Winter King comes calling.”

“What?” The word shocks you from your telling. You blink. The wind whistles as you fly across the Winter Plain and could have tricked your ears, but the face gazing up to you has the question etched into every feature. “Is your voice back little one?”

She opens her mouth and a croak slips out, so she nods ‘yes’ then ‘no’.

“It is coming back then?” She nods. “Good. Good.” You pat her cheek. “Now, as for your question. I suppose you have had no cause to hear it, but when I was younger, they whispered it every year. The Winter King must have a bride, so the Autumn Queen allows him to come during her reign and choose a bride. ‘Snow in Autumn. The Winter King comes calling’. Do you understand?” She pouts as questions crease her brow, but she nods, her only recourse until her voice returns. You continue your story, knowing it will answer some of the questions.

Your father paused from his shoveling to wave to your neighbors. They returned the wave but scuttled away. Your mother decided to stay home. Your errands were not so pressing that you must go to town that day. You nodded and smiled because it loosened her fists.

She and your father returned to their bedroom. Their argument continued. Your fingers were too numb to hold a needle, and it was too early to start dinner. Instead, you went out the back of the house. A smooth white blanket of snow stretched from the house to the woods beyond the fence. You wanted to walk into the woods and lose yourself like you had as a child, but as a young woman, disturbing the beauty of the snow felt a crime.

A whisper in your mind encouraged you forward. You took a step, and your foot stood firm as it does now. You stepped again and stood atop the snow. With a chuckle, you raced to the wood. When you reached the fence edge and glanced back, you found no trace of your passing. You shivered, only then remembering that you had forgotten your cloak.

The chill passed as you entered the woods. The branches had shed their leaves, but wore no coats of white in their place. They creaked in the wind like old men roused from their slumbering and waved to you. As you waved back, you heard it: a whisper, the sound of a memory. You no longer stood in your woods with the saplings which had grown along with you. These woods were ages older than you, but familiar. Your grandparents wood. The whisper came again. You rushed forward and dashed around an oak wider than a sledge.

A path opened up before you, flanked by rows of trees. At the end of the path, staring back at you, was Kyungsoo. Older now, but you knew him instantly. You called to him, but before his name could pass your lips, you were back in your wood.

You returned home, startled by the vision and anxious for your parents. Your absence would frighten them. Though, they should have been preparing themselves. One day more before he came, and no amount of arguing could keep him away.

Sitting at dinner, you tried to start conversations. You told the stories which always brought smiles and laughter, but that night they brought sighs and sorrow.

“Darling,” your father said, his voice rough. You wanted to turn the conversation, but you had run out of stories. “Your mother and I have decided we shall take an early holiday. We will all go visit my parents.” Your father’s parents lived beyond the sea, deep in the southern lands. Your father attempted a smile and managed a crooked stitched together thing which belonged on a scarecrow not a man.

You shook your head. There is no escaping the Winter King. “He will find me, even there.”

Your mother sobbed. You reached across the table to pat her hands, but she flinched at the ice in your fingertips and sobbed even harder. “Why must it be you?”

You wondered that too. Each year the Winter King chose a bride. No one knew how he chose for no two brides were the same. Their stations differed, their appearances differed, their manners differed. The only thing the brides had in common was that none lived to see another winter.

A tug on your sleeve pulls you back to the present. The sledge is slowing, the wind dying around you, so when you lean down, you hear the whispered, “How?” The little girl points to you, and you squish your nose as you smirk.

“I’ll get to that part I promise, but before that, we have arrived.” You watch her face as she sees your home. Many years have passed since you first arrived, and they have stripped the wonder from your eyes.

Ice is cold, hard, and often brutal, but it is also beautiful and delicate. Thick walls of ice stand between nine tall towers which rise into thin spires. Ice fountains twist and curve around the spires like lovers in a dance. When you arrived only six of the nine towers had the spiraling fountains about their spires. The ice captures the noon day sun and reflects it onto the plain of snow, revealing the images carved into the walls and towers. Roads of ice filled with Sledges. Homes frosted with snow, their hearth fires glowing. Rivers frozen solid enough for the skaters to flit across. And finally, Woods their branches covered with snow instead of leaves.

The sledge pulls up to this tower, and the ice melts away forming an arch large enough for the sledge to pull through. Creatures of wind and snow come forward to release the creatures who have pulled you home. They offer a hand to you and the girl, but she buries herself deep in your cloak, clutching it around her.

“They mean you no harm, little one.” You pet her hair. “No one within these walls will harm you, but if they unsettle you so, I will send them away.” With a wave of your hand, they disperse as if they never were. She watches where they were before turning her gaze on you. “My husband’s brother gives them form for me because bodiless creatures disconcert me. They are still here though doing their work. Now, shall we find you some new clothes and food? And perhaps when we are done, my husband will have returned.”

She crawls out of your cloak, and you help her from the sledge. With her hand in hers, you walk with her through the Ice Palace’s never-ending hallways. Her head swivels back and forth as she marks the doors and branching hallways. You had done the same when you first arrived though it did little good. It is impossible to remember one’s way through the palace. One must simply know it. As you continue on your way, you take up your story once more.

That last night in your parent’s home, you laid awake. Sleep neither came for you nor did you seek it. You stared beyond the roof’s eaves into the past. You packed your memories for the coming journey, starting with your earliest. A cold winter’s night. A fire roared in the hearth, and you sat in your mother’s lap as she told you tales of snow maidens.

Dawn crept across the roof before you had made it through half your memories. There was nothing to stop the coming day, though. With a sigh, you climbed out of your bed and walked to your wardrobe. Your best dress hung on the door where you left it. It was plain for a wedding gown, but three days was hardly enough time to construct a proper gown.

You dressed in the early morning light, and when you finished, you stood a distance from the palm-sized mirror your father bought you two winters past. It failed to catch your full image, but the portion it captured gave little evidence as to why you have been chosen as a bride of one of the Four Seasons.

Stepping out into the growing day, you found a world blanketed in white. The snow would rest on the whole town. As you walked, you glided across the snow’s surface though you knew it could not be cold enough for the snow to crust. Closer to town, you found cleared paths, the work of early travelers. You walked through them to the town’s center where the pavilion sat.

Each spring the town gathered at the pavilion to watch the marriages of friends and family. As one, they rejoiced and celebrated together. The pavilion was quiet in the early morning hour though you doubted your marriage would bring much rejoicing and celebrating. Still, you climbed the steps and waited in its center for your groom.

The sky brightened, the morning dawn fading into pale blue as you waited. The townspeople woke and began their mornings. All knew what the day would bring, but few of them stopped by the pavilion. Those that did glanced your way with pity and shook their heads before going on their way.

Noon arrived with a thunder. The bell in the town hall rang, but the sound carried beyond the tower, reverberating through your bones and stilling all those within earshot. When you glanced towards the road, you saw your parents. They were still in their bed clothes. The false winter morning had lulled them into a deep sleep. You wished they had remained asleep and felt guilty at the thought. They deserved a goodbye, but you knew they would fight to keep you. They could not fight winter though. The snow would come without ceasing if the Winter King had no bride.

A wind stirred as you watched them, circling the pavilion and picking at the snow. As the flakes rose, they swirled about you, creating a wall of white. A chill bit your fingertips and toes, and when you glanced at them, you found ice creeping up your body. You closed your eyes and breathed deep as panic threatened to overwhelm you.

The ice eased over your face, and you stared out at the wall of white, a statue of ice. The cold reached into you stilling all thought and sense. The wall of white stretched a tendril towards you, and your body of ice responded, grasping the tendril as one might a hand. The wall pulled you into its maelstrom. The world whirled around, everything familiar so distant.

A wind rushed through the wall, scattering you and pulling you along. You rose with the wind and raced across the countryside. If you had a voice, you would have laughed; instead, the wind whistled a happy tune as it slipped between the trees of the woods.

The sun lowered its head beneath the horizon as the wind settled. It swirled around a stone of solid white and released you from its hold. The ice of your fingers and toes came together and the rest of you found its place. When the statue was whole once more, the ice melted and the wind died. You stood flesh and bone and sinew once more. Before you waited a sledge, not the one on which you rode this morning. This one was made of wood and pulled by two silver reindeer. Beyond the sledge stood the Ice Palace.

“Greetings.” A soft voice had greeted you from a pile of blankets in the sledge. You opened your mouth to return the greeting, but the world went black before you could.

“I still faint whenever I travel on the winter wind which is why I have yet to decide to learn how.” You say as you reach your rooms.

The doors swing open to reveal a room of wood and carpet. When they close, you could believe you stood in a house which your father had made for you and your husband only a short walk from theirs. A fire dances in the hearth, bathing the room in orange light. The girl goes to stand by it and holds her hands to the flames. When she looks back at you with furrowed brows, you laugh.

“Do you really think there would be fire in an Ice Palace? As my husband’s brother gives form to the wind for my benefit, my husband gives me fake fire. One day, I will no longer feel the need for it, but I am still young.”

“And foolish.”

“Yukina,” you greet the woman who enters your room. “This little one is the voice I heard from the sledge. She is the wife of the High Winter King.”

The girl’s gaze follows Yukina as she comes to stand before her. The older woman studies the child before shaking her head. “You should have left her in the woods.”

“And how many children do you have that you can say that to me?” You snap back.

The looks she levels at you could freeze a living soul, but you have lived in the Ice Palace long enough to keep your courage. She speaks, and her words bite into your skin. “And how many children have I lost? Not all children wish to be ice.”

Your lips tighten at the reproach. The girl watches you, her face wary, and you relax. “You are frightening the child, Yukina. My husband and I will decide what is best when he returns.”

Yukina nods and, with a sigh, lowers herself before the girl. “I am sorry little one. I should have kept my peace in your presence. We understand what it is like to be thrust into this world without a choice.” You stiffen, and despite knowing this, she continues. “But you will have a choice. The King of the Winter Woods is fair and just. He will speak with his wife and with you.” She stands and faces you. “I long for the winter when you cease to cause chaos and simply help your husband.” With that, she leaves.

“Come.” You say to the girl when she continues to stand beside the hearth. “I have promised you clothes and food.”

The clothes wait for you on your bed as you knew they would. A thick wool dress and strong leather boots lined with fur. They are all in shades of green and brown except for the boots which are black. She is a new creature in her clothes and fit to be a princess of the Winter Kingdom. You settle her by the fire with a bowl of food and finish your tale.

When you woke, it was in this room. Yukina was there. “Welcome.” She greeted again. “The King of the Winter Woods has chosen you for his bride, and I must make you ready for the ceremony.” The words made sense, but still you were confused. You knew the Winter King and that you must wed him, but you had never heard him called the King of the Winter Woods.

“Who are you?” You asked as you pushed against the thick warm blankets and sat up. The bed was softer than yours and larger. Your mother and father could have slept beside you without touching. At each corner stood young saplings, their branches reaching up to form a canopy above your head.

“I am Yukina, Queen of the Winter Winds.” She answered as she pulled the blankets off your legs. A chill swept up your body, and you shivered. “Come. You must get dressed.”

“If there is already a Winter Queen, then why am I here?” You tugged at the blankets, trying to regain their warmth, but Yukina pulled them further out of reach.

“There are six Winter Queens. You will be the seventh. One day there will be nine as there are nine Winter Kings.” She brought forth a gown which would make the finest lace makers weep, but no string was woven into this gown. Snowflakes had been plucked from the sky and stitched together.

You stared at the snowflakes, tracing their shapes and said with all ignorance imaginable. “But there is only one Winter King. He chooses a bride in Autumn, and by Winter’s end she is gone, so the next Autumn he chooses again.”

“When people know nothing, they will make their own truth.” Yukina placed a hand on yours. “I am alive as you will be at Winter’s end. Come. You must get dressed.” She pulled you off the bed and helped you from your simple dress.

The bridal gown was light as air and sat upon your frame as though tailored for you. No shoes adorned your feet. They glided freely beneath you as you walked to the mirror. The girl from that morning was gone, and the one who replaced her felt foreign. You ran a hand through your hair. Yukina had left it to hang freely. You watched in the mirror as she came up behind you and, atop your head, placed a crown, carved in the shape of pine and spruce and other trees whose names you would learn.

From your room, you walked round and round the palace until you stood at its center, a nine-pointed snowflake. Each point had an archway and above the archway was a symbol. If you had looked above the one you walked through, you would have seen the Winter Wood, but the man at the snowflakes center held all of your attention.

Even here, Kyungsoo swore no coat, and the wind tousled his dark mop of hair. He stood as still as a tree in trousers and tunic, the grey of snow at dusk. Yukina walked with you towards him and placed your hand in his before fading away.

“I saw you in the woods yesterday.” You said because you had to say something. Nothing quite made sense, but Kyungsoo was here which felt right.

He smiled, and his lips formed a heart. “I knew you were in the woods, and I should have gone, but I wanted to see you and know if you were scared. Are you scared?”

“No.” And it was the truth. You were uncertain and curious, but not scared. “We’re going to be married.”

“We are married.” You blinked and stepped back but left your hand in his. “If you do not wish it so, you can leave as you came. I will return you to your parents, and everything will become a dream.” He squeezed your hand and began to release it.

You tightened your hold upon his. “And if I wish it?”

“Then you will rule beside me as Queen of the Winter Woods and be my wife.”

“I agreed too readily.” You tell the girl as you pour her a cup of tea. “I love my husband and am happy to be wed to him, but I agreed because of childish fancy. I believed that I would love him because I had loved him as a child. But he was no longer that little boy, and I was no longer that little girl. This is my warning to you little one be open to love but not blinded by the idea of it. People convince themselves of many things because they think they are in love.” She nods along as she sips her tea. You sip yours as well. “And now would you like to meet my husband?”

The door opens, and Kyungsoo strides in. He glances at the girl then you. He will have already heard about her. There are no secrets in a palace of ice.

“Little one, does my husband frighten you?” She shakes her head. “Then will you go with him? He must speak with you without me. This way you can be honest with him.”

“Anytime you wish to return, we will.” He speaks, his deep voice a wave of warmth.

She gives you her tea cup and stands. The little princess walks to him and takes his hand. They are gone, and you are left to wait with your tea.

Kyungsoo walks beside the girl, his hands clasped in front of him. The walls thin as they walk until they are gone, and the two walk through a wood of white. “Do you understand what happened to you?”

She nods then shakes her head and sighs. A fresh snow falls, clinging to her hair and dusting her dress. She watches him. The snow drifts about him but never settles on him. Her bottom lip begins to tremble, and Kyungsoo kneels down before her and balances her too small hands in his palms. She meets his eyes, and he breaths out a sharp exhale which clouds in the chill air and wraps around her. She breathes in, and her eyes go round. “My voice.” She croaks.

“Please forgive my wife. She is new to her power still.”

“She is good to me.” Her face shines with the delight of her voice.

Kyungsoo’s lips curve up, but he sighs. “She has a kind heart and is eager to help those in need, but she helps without asking or a thought to the consequence.”

The girl blinks. “I don’t understand.”

“You were dead this morning, and my wife gave life to you. Such is our power for those who Winter takes, but it is a gift given with care. My wife should have spoken with you first. This life is different. You are no longer human. You no longer belong in the human world. Everything you knew is gone. She should have explained this to you and received your permission before giving life to you.”

“But I was dead?” Her brow furrows.

“Such is our power for those who winter takes.” He repeats, his smile sad. “I will explain what my wife did not. You are a snow maiden now. During winter you may roam the world, but when winter ends, you must stay in the palace. You have no magic of your own and will melt with the coming of Spring. If you melt, there is nothing Winter can do.” The trees whistle with the wind, and the snow dances around them. Her hands, resting against his palms, tremble. His fingers curl around hers to form a link. “You are free to stay here, but life here is not the same as the life you had.”

“Of course not.” Her voice wavers. “I know that. Back…” She pauses as tears leak down her cheeks. “Back when I was human, I was always hungry, and there was no food. I would beg and beg, and everyone would tell me to go away. So I went away. I went into the woods, and that’s- that’s when it happened.” She sobs, her whole body shaking. “It was so cold, and the snow was falling. I couldn’t walk any further so I laid down, and nothing hurt anymore, but I was so tired, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

Pulling her against him, Kyungsoo settles them both down amongst the roots of the trees. He brushes the snow from her hair and clothes and whispers a word. The snow begins to dance around her as it does him. He whispers another word, and the snow swirls together becoming a teapot and cups. Steam rises from the pot, and he pours her a cup. She sips, and her trembling subsides.

“I want to stay here. I didn’t have magic before, and I don’t need magic now. I won’t leave during Spring and melt. I will be good, and do everything you and your wife say.” The cup in her hands threatens to crack under the pressure of her grasp while her eyes wide with pleading remain fixed on him.

“Very well, you may stay. You shall live with us from now until the last Winter ends.” She nods, and he does as well. Lifting his head, he says, “You may come out now.”

Slipping between the trees, you join their tea party. The girl squeals and rushes to you, throwing her arms around you. She chatters away with a voice sweeter than a morning magpie. She is full of questions and excitement, and you set her in your lap as you work to answer them all. Soon though, she is asleep in your arms. The day has taken its toll on her. Kyungsoo cradles her in his arms as you walk back to your rooms.

“She may come to hate a life of ice.” He whispers.

“And she may love it.” You whisper back. “As I love it.” A hand upon his arm stops him, and he faces you. “I love you, and I am happy to be your Winter Queen. I will be a good Winter Queen, and a good mother to this child.” You promise before leaning into him and placing a kiss upon his lips.

#kwritersworldnet #kyungsoo #d.o.#exo #kyungsoo drabble #exo drabble #kyungsoo fanfiction #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo collection #hmw #g: fluff #tw: mentions of death

30 notes · View notes

p1harmonyofficial · 3 years

Text

[📰] K-Pop Rookies P1Harmony Are Writing Their Own Coming of Age Story

By Crystal Bell

K-pop group P1Harmony debuted three months ago with their audacious single "Siren," and member Jiung is already dreaming of the perfect solo vacation. The 19-year-old singer wants to emphasize that this is a trip he'd like to — no, needs to — do alone, when he can safely do so. ("You need to bold the word 'alone,'" leader Keeho adds in English, a knowing glint of mirth in his eyes. "Put it in italics too.") So, more about this excursion: "If possible, I want to go to a foreign country," Jiung tells Teen Vogue from an office in Seoul, South Korea. He doesn't have a specific place in mind, just somewhere new and exciting and, most importantly, a place where he can be alone to freely organize his thoughts without any other responsibilities.

It sounds like a lyric ripped from the pages of his notebook, or the plot of a coming-of-age movie his 17-year-old groupmate Intak would enjoy: a young man on a voyage of self-discovery, chasing a feeling to a faraway land to escape his adolescent ennui. For now, however, it's just a lofty resolution for the new year.

"I also want to travel alone because I've never done it before," youngest member Jongseob, who recently turned 15, enthusiastically offers in Korean. Jiung, always one to help the younger sort out his feelings, is quick to quash the teenage rapper's theoretical plans. "That's not very realistic," he says. "You're too young to travel alone." Undeterred, Jongseob carries on: "Then my goal this year is to drink more milk."

"He wants to grow taller, but I don't think milk helps that much," Keeho comments, shaking his head while his teal quiff stays firmly in place. "I heard that's a myth."

Technically, they're not wrong. Unaccompanied minors can't travel internationally without a parent's formal consent in South Korea, and there's no proven scientific correlation between dairy and height. But spoken aloud, this interaction sounds more like playful goading among good friends. It's a testament to Keeho, Theo, Jiung, Intak, Soul, and Jongseob's comfortable dynamic as a group that the copper-haired youngest just earnestly smiles through the minor sting of his hopes being swiftly dashed.

For all of the training that goes into a K-pop artist's career, perhaps the most vital lesson is learning how to symbiotically coexist in close quarters with someone who is unfamiliar to you. Like most things, it is a process. Harmony isn't achieved overnight, especially among six teenage boys who have differing definitions of the word "clean." Cultural differences present unique challenges, too. When Keeho left his home in Canada to pursue his musical dreams as a trainee at FNC Entertainment in Seoul, he didn't have much trouble fitting in. Or so he thought. "He was funny," Jiung says in retrospect. "But I don't think we were able to communicate well." It wasn't that they couldn't understand what Keeho was saying — the soulful singer grew up speaking Korean with his family — but rather they couldn't understand him.

"Everyone would be stressed out, and I would be like, 'Guys, relax. Why are you stressing out over this?'" Keeho says animatedly with his hands. "They couldn't understand why I was so relaxed. How could I not care about anything? And I couldn't understand why they were always so stressed about things. It took a while to get on the same page."

That's where communication comes in. "The key is being honest," Jiung explains. "We have a lot of talks." These regular conversations allow the members to resolve potential issues before they spiral into larger, more disharmonious problems. Keeho is refreshingly open about this. "We're always stuck together," he adds. "We live together. We see each other 24 hours a day. Seeing anyone 24 hours a day, you'll eventually be, like, ugh, get away from me, but because we communicate so much, that [feeling] is reduced." Establishing rules and boundaries also helps. "We have a basic rule that you clean up the mess you've made," Jongseob says from where he's perched behind Jiung. (This rule is especially important to methodical Jiung.) And then there's vocalist Theo, the eldest member who also takes on the role of the group's even-keeled mediator because he's a good listener, and he likes giving advice.

"I'm not very opinionated," the blonde says. At 19, he's a few months older than Keeho but harder to read. He's both lighthearted and enigmatic. "I'm not good at expressing my feelings," Theo explains. "But the members are really good at expressing themselves and their emotions, so I'm learning how to open up because of them." According to Keeho, Theo is "bad at being serious," adding, "We'll have to have a serious talk, and he won't be able to take it. He's always trying to lighten the mood. He's the comedic relief."

Keeho makes a habit of describing the members' various idiosyncrasies in fervent detail. It's a very leaderly thing to do, to make sure that everyone feels understood. Occasionally, he also jumps in to help interpret their answers into English, or to encourage others to speak. Soul, who is half-Korean but was raised in Japan, could be described as a quiet person: an introvert who wears a lot of black, listens to metal, and has a particular obsession with massive skull rings and accessories. But he's also acutely perceptive. He'd rather listen and observe than be an active participant in the conversation. "I like when the rest of the members are discussing an idea," he says quietly in Korean (he's still learning the language). "I like watching them talk." It's not that he's not involved, but as Keeho puts it, "He's always supporting us silently and observing us." For Soul, it's more fun to sit and watch.

You can get a sense of these dynamics as they unfold on the last track of the group's debut EP, Disharmony: Stand Out. It's a skit, or audio recording of the members — then, just trainees — as they talk candidly about their dreams to perform and contemplate the implications of such aspirations. "I work hard here for the debut, but when I go to school, I wonder, 'What am I doing here?'" Intak says on tape, recalling how strange it feels to not have the same priorities as his classmates who are all preparing for their college admissions. Theo quells his concerns, telling him how lucky he is to already be working toward his dream. "That's a cool thing," Keeho adds, as Soul silently listens in the background.

While his peers prepared for their academic futures, Intak was spending his evenings dancing, rapping, singing, and writing lyrics, while also stunt training alongside his groupmates and preparing to become a… movie star. A few weeks before the release of their album, P1H: A New World Begins hit theaters across South Korea in early October. The first K-pop origin story to hit the big screen, the feature film introduced P1Harmony and their sci-fi lore to the masses. Long story short: After a deadly virus spreads chaos and violence around the globe, six boys with extraordinary gifts are humanity's only hope for survival. The filming experience was invaluable for the artists, who until that point had only ever studied music and performance. "Acting training really helped with my facial expressions," Intak says. "I learned how to portray my emotions on stage." Keeho agrees, adding, "We got very friendly with the camera."

Singers who rap, rappers who sing, dancers who act — the boys of P1Harmony forgo clearly defined roles in favor of being versatile and, well, good at everything.

As for their music, Disharmony: Stand Out is a snapshot of Gen Z unrest, simmering with angst ("Siren") and bucking wildly, vibrantly against convention ("Nemonade"). Teenage turmoil has been fueling the K-pop industry since the very beginning, and there's a certain nostalgia to P1Harmony's no-holds-barred approach. Members Soul and Jongseob both credit B.A.P and their hard-hitting style with inspiring them to become artists, with Zelo influencing Jongseob to pursue rap in elementary school. You can hear those more aggressive, hip-hop-tinged influences on Disharmony, as well as softer, more lyrical R&B flourishes ("Butterfly").

"We wanted to convey feelings and situations that are not harmonious," Jongseob says. "We want to say don't be afraid to stand out and to say what you want to say — speak your truth, and do it with courage and confidence." Despite his age, the young rapper carries himself like a veteran. By all accounts, he's earned the title, having won the competition series K-pop Star 6 at age 12 in 2017 and competed in YG Treasure Box less than two years later. These experiences, he says, helped him feel more comfortable performing. By the time he came to FNC, he was already a prodigy with the confidence and flow of a performer twice his age.

"There are so many people, our age especially, who aren't always able to speak courageously and confidently," Keeho adds. "So we wanted to encourage everyone, especially ourselves, to never be afraid to say what you want to say."

And they practice what they preach. All of the members are credited lyricists on the album, with all six collaborating on the roaring hip-hop track "That's It." Part cypher, part vibes, "That's It" is teeming with boyish swagger and possibility. "Even though it was the first time all six of us worked on a song together, surprisingly we were all on the same page from the very first meeting, and it came together quickly," Jiung recounts, adding that each member wrote their own verse. "It was fun," Keeho chirps.

That creative energy is also channeled into their performances. "Because we do take part in a lot of the songwriting, we also want to convey that in our dance," Intak explains. Though he's part of the group's rap line, his first love was dance. He started taking lessons as a child. "My mom is a dancer, so she's where I got my love of dancing," he says. As such, he's well-versed in conveying emotion through motion. "We always have an idea of how we want to portray these emotions with our bodies," he says. The members choreograph their own center gestures. These movements are a small but significant part of any performance, because this is where their charisma and individuality shine brightest.

"I wanted to become a singer because I wanted to perform onstage," Theo says. "So being able to be on music programs performing on real stages, surrounded by bright LED lights and visual backdrops, I feel like a main character. When all of the lights are on me, I feel like a star."

Unsurprisingly, even when he's offstage, he's still singing. He even likes to call his friends and take song requests. "I like to sing to my friends through the phone," he says. "I'll sing anything they want. I play piano for them, too. They're very open to listening to me." Next to him, Keeho adds, "My friends would not want me to sing to them." (The internet respectfully disagrees.) Meanwhile, Jongseob turns to making music and writing lyrics in his downtime. It's a great way to relieve stress, he says. These days, Intak turns to animated films to ease his mind. He's a fan of Studio Ghibli films, and he really likes the Japanese manga characters Doraemon and Shin Chan.

"I watch a lot of coming-of-age stories about these innocent kids who are in the process of becoming adults," he explains. "I get inspired by watching them. I don't want to lose that innocence, so watching those animations make me feel youthful." It's hard to imagine Intak without his boyish sensibility. It's seeped into every social media post and YouTube vlog (or, #PLOG). Yet, as an artist, as a teenager, it's an unusual phenomenon to be perceived by thousands of fans before having the clarity to perceive yourself. It's something no amount of Miyazaki or training prepares you for.

Initially, Theo had a hard time opening up on camera. The mere thought of it made him nervous, but the more he did it, the easier it was for him to parse his own feelings. "I'm not very good at expressing emotions like thank you and I love you," he says. "But it's a lot easier to express those feelings now because I feel them so sincerely. I can say thank you for loving me [to fans] because I truly mean it."

"There are people from all around the world who leave me messages, and that makes me so happy," Intak says. "It drives me to do more and to give more to them."

And there will be more to give. Disharmony: Stand Out was just the beginning, and Keeho already has some very big goals for 2021. At the top of the list? "Rookie of the Year, come on!" he says spiritedly of the K-pop industry's coveted award. "It's definitely possible. I'm manifesting it right now." He also wants to make more music, maybe release more covers. "We want to come back a lot," he smiles. "I'm thinking [of] at least three releases next year."

Then there are more personal goals, like Jiung's solo travels. "I want to take better care of my mental health," he adds, noting that it starts with a more positive mindset. "I want to be a better person overall." Intak wants to, for the first time in his young life, maintain a consistent routine for a healthier lifestyle. That includes getting enough sleep when there aren't any schedules. ("He could sleep, but he chooses not to," Keeho jokes.) After monitoring his fancams, Theo has decided that he wants to build more muscle. And Soul hopes to go home to Japan to see his dog, a Frenchie named Mochi.

As for Keeho, in true Libra fashion, he wants to maintain a sense of balance: "I want to stay true to myself," he says. "I don't want to be like, oh, the fame is getting to me. I don't want to change. I want to stay grounded and stay thankful and be grateful, always. I also want to make some more money." He laughs, then adds, "I can't lie!"

No, he can't. Honesty is the key to harmony, after all.

#p1harmony #ot6 #t:news #era:disharmony : stand out #210123

21 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

Wish I Wasn’t - Bragi x Reader 1/2

I...This isn’t what I planned when I started this...And this probably wasn’t what you were expecting when you asked...I’m so sorry...

~~~~~

Part 1: Unconvinced

Anxiety gets the better of me—the shop closes early; it’s not like I was going to have many more customers on a Wednesday night anyway. Not even the books I’ve built my living off can bring me any comfort this time. The door is locked, munny is put away, and the lights go out before I slump upstairs to my apartment where I spend too long in the shower hoping the water will wash away the worry—it doesn’t. I feel so heavy, like I’ll just hit the floor at any moment and suffocate beneath the pressure.

The white fabric crumpled beside the bed catches my eye. It’s soft between my fingers and I can imagine the night he spent here: dragging fingers through my hair, talking nonsense while we stared at the ceiling, and the sound of his heart as I drifted away. Addiction drives me bury my face in the cloth and complacency rolls through me; a waft of cinnamon spice throws a blanket over my fretfulness—nothing ever could compare to the relief I feel surrounded by his scent. I’d say it’s a shame I had to return the fluff-coat—he always took it when he had something important to do—but I could really use the sedative right now. Doing the best with what I’ve got, I pull the t-shirt over my head and curl up on my bed.

He told me he would be fine and the first time, he was. But this time, the faint nervousness in his expression sent mine skyrocketing. It’s only been a few days and my brain has already imagined a million terrible scenarios. I can’t help but worry so much that it brings tears to my eyes.

~~~~~

Eyes snap open, showing me my shadowed room. Everything is perfectly still and I consider I had one of those ridiculous falling dreams. But I was wrong: another round of knocking comes from the door leading to the alleyway.

Heart pounding in my chest, I flip the light on, slide from my bed, and bring with me the knife I keep for emergencies. My eyes check the locks on the door which are still securely in place. Leaving the chain intact, I release the second lock and open the door just enough to peak through.

There’s a young man standing on the other side. Even half shrouded by darkness, there’s no mistaking that wild hair and fur-lined jacket.

The knife clatters to the floor, abandoned by my fingers fidgeting with the chain. When I’m able to throw the door open, I launch at the boy. The grimace is ignored in favor of consuming all the relief I’ve been craving. It doesn’t matter that my eyes burn or my head is throbbing—he’s here.

“Geeze, were you gonna stab me? What a terrible way to be welcomed back.” Of course the first words out of his mouth are some smart-ass comments.

“It’s the middle of the night. How else do you expect me to greet an unexpected guest?” I mumble into his chest.

“Okay, fair enough. Now get inside.”

My victim is reluctantly released and let into my home. An over-dramatic groan fills the room as he finds the bed; I earn another from him when I chastise him.

“Oi! Smarmy Fluffcoat! Your shoes!” With a roll of my eyes, I grab his foot and pull. Shoes tossed by the door, I come back to Bragi throwing his jacket across the room too—I’ll be taking that later. “You bum. You’ve been here thirty seconds and are already making a mess.”

“I am sooo tired.” Having thrown his second shirt across my home, he flops onto his back.

I love seeing Bragi in this skin-tight sleeveless shirt; he’s far more toned than one would expect with his choice in clothing. My hand pauses, hovering over his chest—peeking from under his shirt is a purple spot. The concern instantly takes over and I start tugging at the fabric.

“Ack! Wait-Hold on!” The red-head pulls the last shirt off himself and the sight becomes clear; stretching across his chest is a massive, violent blotch.

My hand immediately goes to my mouth, only to fall again in my outburst. “What happened?!”

That simper doesn’t ease my nerves as much as he probably thinks. “Just got into a little scuffle.”

“A little?! This bruise is bigger than my arm!”

“The Heartless got in a good sucker punch. What can I say? I got a little over confident.” Those eyes scrutinize me, not finding what he hoped to instill in me. Finally, he lowers the aloof attitude. “Look, I’m okay, just a little sore. I promise.”

This is never going to reach a point where I’ll feel better about the situation but there’s nothing I can do about it now except deal with the aftermath—no matter how much it bothers me. Letting lose a sigh, I amble towards the fridge for ice. The homemade ice-pack and a bottle of water are shoved into his hands and I double back to the kitchen for some pain relievers.

By the time I return, my head reminds me that I’ve been worried sick over this kid. His dose is administered before I take mine.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, giving up the bottle.

The pills go down with water. “You—you’re what’s wrong with me.”

“What did I do?”

“I haven’t seen you in days,” I retort, returning the pain killers to the kitchen. “The last I heard, you were off on a mission looking for missing students who may or may not have been killed. Do you know what that kind of information does to someone who cares?”

“Aw, you care?” I could slap that smirk off. “Okay, not the time to joke around.”

That smarmy persona sloughs off with a heavy exhale, leaving behind someone who’s spent far more than he had. An arm extends to ask for me. The moment my fingers slide into his hand, Bragi pulls me into his lap. Engulfed in his grip, I can feel the tremors he’s been trying to suppress. He hides is face like a child trying to block out the world and I know whatever happened out there scared him more than he’ll ever tell me. He assured me he would be fine; sure he came back to me in one piece but having him rattled and shaking is not fine.

Combing fingers through his hair, I try to sort out the things I want to say. It’s well past midnight when the trembling dies out. Maybe it’s a subject that should wait until morning, but I need him to know: “I want you to quit.”

For a moment, nothing happens and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then he lifts his face to me. Remnant tears clinging to his eye lashes do nothing to argue my stance on the matter, but Bragi genuinely seems to think I’m crazy. “What?”

He’s been training for this his whole life; it’s been his dream to see other worlds and he’s always bragging about protecting the world order—and I hate it. The words are bitter, however, because I know he would never say such things to me. “I want you to give up being a key bearer.”

In disbelief, his head shakes. “No, I-”

“Look at yourself,” I plead. “You’re all bruised and shaken up and you’re not even a master yet.”

“I know I’m still a newbie but I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

“No, it won’t.” He frowns at my harshness. “The better you get, the harder the jobs will be. This is only the beginning and things are going to get worse.” Taking his face in my hands, I need my intentions to get through. “I can’t stand to see you like this. Please, Bragi, I…I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“…I’m sorry.” Those aren’t the words I wanted to hear. “Look at me.” A gentle nudge guides my gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry for scaring you, but I’m alright—it just caught me off-guard. I’ll get stronger; this will get easier. I’ll be okay.” A finger silences the argument before I can make it. “I’m not giving up just because of a few bruises so early in my career. Besides, there are people depending on us; my friends would never let me hear the end of it if I quit now.” The hair gets brushed from my face. “We can talk about this later if you want but I’m done for the night. Also, is that my shirt?”

I look down at the garment. “Yeah. It made me feel better.”

His chuckle instantly lightens the mood. “I want that back tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” My complaint is more genuine than expected.

Having recovered from the depression, he pulls me back in, nuzzling into my shoulder. My heart feels a million times lighter at the touch of his lips against my neck. “For the same reason you like to steal my coat.”

His tongue flickers and goosebumps shoot across my skin. “You know about that?” I murmur, subconsciously giving him more room to work.

“Of course I do,” he says between kisses. “Why else do you think I let you have it for days at a time? It smells just like you when I take it back.” A shiver ripples down my spine; instead of a small taste, Bragi drags his tongue from my collarbone to my jaw. I’m ashamed to have given him the squeak that encourages this behavior. He always knew exactly how to make me fall for him and he’s destroying all my composure as if it were made of sand.

Teeth sink in. “Ow!” All I get in response is a mischievous laugh that never breaks contact. The longer his mouth works the spot, the worse it’s going to be but I honestly couldn’t care less right now—I just want to enjoy this and forget my fears for a while.

Relinquishing his hold at last, Bragi seals the mark with one final lick before admiring his work. The molten amber in his eyes, that haughty smirk, the confidence radiating from him: I love it all—I love him. Taking my chance, I push him down onto the bed and kiss him like my life depends on it.

For a while, he lets me have the reigns, giving all that I ask for—he likes to play me like that before flipping the table and turning me to mush. A glint of a predatory expression on his face is all the warning I get before he easily switches places with me to take control. A nip at my bottom lip—purely out of courtesy—gives him full access to my mouth.

The make-out eventually dies to lazy kisses and simply enjoying each others’ presence. He drifts away before I do, leaving me with my thoughts. I hate his job and the risks he takes but I’ll never be able to convince him out of it. There’s no limit to what I’d give for him to be safe, not that he’d accept it. Unfortunately, I have to settle with worrying about him and hope that he’s right: that he’ll get stronger and it’ll become easier.

Letting the thoughts flow past me, I hide away in his arms. The steady beating of his heart reminds me that he’s here right now and that he loves me.

#bragi #kh bragi #khdr bragi #smarmy fluffcoat #bragi x reader #kh dr #khdr #kh dark road #novas requests #gender neutral reader

4 notes · View notes

sabine-leo · 5 years

Text

Dreadful Silence - Part 15

Author: @sabine-leo

Rated: M

Genre: Angst, Insecurity, Hurt / Comfort, Humor and Fluff / SMUT

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston / You (female reader)

Part: 15/?

Note: Slowly we are nearing the end of this story! I do hope you like this chapter and enjoy the view with her from the top of her personal climbed mountain! COMMENTS ARE SOULFOOD! ;)

Yours, Sabine

Behind the closed curtain you could hear the excited murmurs, the soft talks and laughs of the audience. Completely dressed and with the needed make up, you felt almost like a different person. Good, cause you needed to be Beatrice for the next time to come. Soft arms came around you from behind. “My fair Beatrice..” Tom murmured and kissed your half-exposed shoulder. You smiled and leaned into his embrace. “Good morrow soon to be husband!” Tom chuckled and squeezed you tighter. “Be careful what you wish for… it might come true sooner than later!”

The whole cast joined the both of you and got ready. Everybody was nervous, but everybody was also thrilled to bring a play to life that they had rehearsed for with all their sweat and tears and blood. Ian joined last and looked at everybody with a smile. After some murmured words of encouragement and well wishes he said “On your marks please.” That meant it was time for you, Andrea and the men who played Leonato and the Messenger to walk onto stage when the cue came. Tom hugged you one last time and went to the side of the stage so that he would be able to see you and part of the audience.

The lights got dim in the theatre, the murmurs calmed down. Some last hushed rustles could be heard before the curtain lifted and it was time to act. Andrea squeezed your hand and gave you a slight tug as Ian motioned to the four of you to walk out. Leonato and the Messenger already talking while walking. Hero and you followed. A gasp out of the audience before a shrill “THAT`S MY GIRL!” sounded in Julia’s voice. The audience chuckled and you had to hide a grin. Tom threw his head back and laughed as silent as possible but with all the joy he felt. He saw the gaping gazes of your friends and beamed like an idiot as you started to talk and act without a hitch.

The first words you had to say had almost stuck in your throat but after the first sentence was out a total calm came over you and you forgot that there were a lot of people watching you. Before you knew it, Tom joined you on stage as Benedick and the both of you bickered and teased in the language of old.

BENEDICK: Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

BEATRICE: A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.

BENEDICK: I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's name; I have done.

BEATRICE: You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.

God, it was fun to bicker with Tom. The both of you played each other and gave each other stares and glances that could cut glass at first. The chemistry you had was fun to watch as it changed throughout the play. The audience was silent and enthralled by every actor’s performance. They laughed and gasped and were engaged from the first words that had been uttered on stage. Julia, Sam, Jack, Christine and Paul could not take their eyes off of you when you were on stage again and the proud smiles got bigger and bigger. The final minutes of the play came faster than you thought and it was Toms turn to give the last words to the audience as his Benedick had just married your Beatrice.

BENEDICK: Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere

we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts and our wives' heels.

LEONATO: We'll have dancing afterward.

BENEDICK: First, of my word; therefore play, music. Prince,

thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.

Messenger: My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,

And brought with armed men back to Messina.

BENEDICK: Think not on him till to-morrow:

I'll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers.

And the curtain closed while you and Tom danced together…

The audience erupted into applause but Tom did not let go of you. No, he tightened his grip and crashed his lips to yours. You kissed him back with all you had in you and smiled near his lips as he lifted you up and turned slowly in a circle while kissing you with a laugh flaring up from his lips. The curtain came back up again as Tom sat you down softly and smiled a beaming smile at you. The whole cast joined and you took your bows before a standing and clapping audience. God, the adrenalin rushing through your veins was tremendous. You looked to your friends who frantically hooted and clapped and raised their fists into the air. Julia with tears streaming down her face.

The curtain closed again and stayed that way. Tom turned to you again and smiled. You wanted to walk of stage with him but he stopped you and winked as he got down on the wooden floor of the stage.

He padded the space next to him and lay down with a smile. “I made a promise I intend to keep!” A bubbly laugh escaped your lips and you looked around to see everybody on stage smiling. One after the other lay down and held someone’s hand. Tears filled your eyes as you went down on your knees and Tom tugged you down into his waiting arms. The lights on stage were killed by Ian with a big smile on his face. A few seconds you heard only breathing but then Tom yelled “WE DID IT!” and everybody started to laugh and hoot in great joy.

It would become a ritual…after every performance the cast would lay down together for a minute. Silently appreciating each other’s company and their day´s work.

The lights lit up again and Tom sat up with a sparkle in his bright blue eyes, clearly still on a high from his performance and the adrenalin rushing through his veins. He jumped to his feet and held out his hand for you. You took it without hesitation and he almost instantly tugged you along into the corridor backstage to the far end into a small room full of fabric and a sewing machine on a table. Before you could muster a question, he blocked the door and pressed you against it. His lips on yours, ravishing them with an intense hunger. A gasp escaped you as his nimble hands made quick work of your dress and his pants. He gathered the skirt up and lifted your leg to his side, keeping it there while his already heavy erection pressed against your core. His free hand ripped your pantie in two and his wet tip found your heated core. There were no words. Only intense stares and shallow breaths. Tom bend his knees slightly and as he straightened them again, he thrust inside you with a deep moan leaving his parted lips.

Your own moan was silenced with a hungry and passionate kiss. His tongue gathering up every sound you made and forming it into wet and open-mouthed kisses. Toms hips were erratic. You held on to his neck and shoulders while his thrusts came harder and faster. Your back and your head probably made dull thuds against the door but the both of you were to occupied to care. It did not take long for you to reach the mountaintop of lust and joyfully jump into the abyss of pleasure that awaited. Tom closely following you, not able to stop himself as he felt your walls clench in an intoxicating orgasm. He groaned and rested his head in the crock of your neck, breathing heavily.

Slowly his hands let go of you and he started to laugh throatily. “Well, I guess our marriage has been consummated my lovely Beatrice!” You could not hold back your own laughter and kissed that silly man that grinned so wickedly and very adorably with his nose nudging yours.

Tom helped you to set your dress straight and gathered up the ripped pantie. He stuffed it into his pants and grinned as he opened the door and walked you back to your dressing room. “A quick shower, a change of clothes and then we will celebrate with our friends!” He said and kissed you thoroughly. Andrea lifted an inquiring eyebrow as you closed the door behind you. You just smiled and she started to giggle as you were headed into the shower.

An hour later Tom and you walked hand in hand into the venue that was booked for the party. Tom in a dark suit and you in a very sexy yet elegant dress Tom had helped you choose for tonight. “Here come our newlyweds!” The cast hooted and threw confetti at the both of you. Laughing wholeheartedly Tom kissed you but soon had to let go of you as Julia barged in and stole you literally from his lips. With every word she said she smacked your arm. “How could you not TELL ME!” Then she hugged you so fiercely that all the oxygen left your lung. “You were brilliant!!!” She cried and held onto you. Only to lean back and smack you again! The rest of your friends followed and hugged you with such fierce proudness that you too had tears in your eyes. As did Tom.

This night was about celebration, climbed mountains and friendships that were stronger than any fear or panic. It was about love and happiness, about overcoming obstacles that at first seemed to much for one person alone. But one thing you never were...alone. There were always hands reaching out to you and you could not be more grateful for all of them.

Tags: @witchbitch-stuff @drakesfiance @kthemarsian @confessionsofastrugglingteen @mylovelycrazyworld? @adefectivedetective @mylovelycrazyworld @shegatsby @anchored-in-high-tide @yokaimoon @archy3001 @itscalledfandomsweetielookitup @amazinggraces-world @tanishahka @coniumalces @emomemelordess @inlovewithfreyamikaelson @heart-shaped-hell @theoneanna @marikochi @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @awkwardfangirl2014 @rainbowsinthestorm

68 notes · View notes