#I’m sure once the epilogue hits and I watch it I’ll be sobbing like a fucking baby

[shima-draws]

I’m really torn with what I want to see happen in the epilogue miniseries…on one hand getting a timeskip and seeing Ash grown up would be really interesting. On the other hand sometimes timeskips are cheesy and if they confirm any Ash-centric ships as canon I will riot. Yes I know I’m all about shipping but HONESTLY I would much rather them leave that aspect of Ash’s life ambiguous;; I really like the idea of Ash’s story arc being a “never-ending journey” kind of thing. So that viewers can just…interpret what happens to him in their own way rather than having it be outright stated. And this kid can go on adventures forever because there’s not a solid ending to his storyline

#Basically what I’m hinting at—I’m gonna say it outright here. #If they confirm Amo//shipping as canon I’m going to be so fucking angry. I’m going to lose my mind entirely #Please please PLEASE anything but that. I’d even be fine with Pokeshipping #Anyway that’s my one (1) fear for this #Shima speaks #Pokemon #Pokeani #Ash Ketchum #Satoshi #Honestly tho I’m kinda shocked I’m not more sad about this? #I mean it’s definitely very bittersweet. #I grew up watching Pokemon and watching Ash grow as a person #This kid has been around for as long as I’ve been alive!! That is Insane #Feels like a chapter of my life is ending. Idk how to emotionally process lol #I’m sure once the epilogue hits and I watch it I’ll be sobbing like a fucking baby #But for now I’m just kinda. Yeah. This is good. Good for him

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 18

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Book: TRR AU

Warnings: Language, crude talk, and the usual bad writing.

I had planned from the beginning to end this series after the next chapter and an epilogue, but call me crazy, I love it too much. So while this part of the story will end, I still plan to update with one-shots or stories from time to time. If you’re just done with it, let me know.

Also, this chapter felt a little off to me, so I apologize if it's terrible, but I think I ended on a good note.

Thanks @burnsoslow for prereading.and usage of your girl, who finally got to make her debut.

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

"Damn it, Riley! Pick up!" Liam grumbled as he lowered the cell phone from his ear and tossed it in the seat beside him. The royal jet had been in the air for a little over four hours already, and he'd grown frustrated at getting her voice mail each time. Surely, she was home by now. 

Even though it was the middle of the night in Las Vegas, it was worth interrupting her. He had tried unsuccessfully to contact Riley since he packed his bags earlier and hastily headed for the airstrip. By this point, there must have been a dozen or so messages left on her phone without so much as a hint she'd gotten them. 

While time wasn't an issue -- he'd get to Las Vegas one way or the other -- it was the desperation to hear from his new wife and tell her he knew precisely why she left. 

And that he loved her.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he swiveled side-to-side in his luxury chair while tightly clutching his freshly poured scotch. The security footage he watched earlier that morning replayed in his mind again. There were no doubts about what it showed: Madeleine confronted Riley outside their quarters just minutes after leaving the ball. Without sound, however, no one could ascertain specifically what was said among the two women. It was clear though,  Riley was not a willing participant in that conversation. When they saw the disk held up in the Countess' hands, and the look of sheer horror on his pussycat's face, that told Liam all he needed to know. This was a blackmail situation, plain and simple, that included assault; those flowers he found scattered on the ground when he returned to his quarters last night all made sense now. This act was deliberate and treasonous, and Liam would ensure his ex-fiancee paid handsomely for it. 

After they viewed the footage several more times, the Royal Guard was immediately summoned to Krona to find Madeleine and take her into custody. Liam knew it was a long shot whether his guards could pull that sting off, but he was working with what he had at the moment.

Despite whatever happened next, there was one thing the King was confident of: He was prepared to give up his entire Kingdom to get his girl back. Returning to Cordonia without her was not an option.

Shaking his tumbler of partially melted ice cubes, Liam leaned forward and steadily poured another bottle of scotch into his glass. As soon as he sat back and raised the fresh beverage to his lips, he was startled by the ringing of his cell phone. In a rush to answer, he hastily set the drink aside and snatched his phone up from where he tossed it earlier. 

"Hello! Love?" He answered, hopeful it was her.

"Hey, little brother. Love you too ... Say, do you know if the palace has a Spanish tickler or a breast ripper? Asking for a friend."

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion before rising from his seat, plopping a knee down on its cushioned bottom, and glancing to the back of the plane. "Leo? Why are you calling me? We're on the same damn plane. I'm looking right at you."

"Nevermind that. Listen, I figured out a way to take care of Madeleine once and for all. Behold ..." Leo held up a leather-bound book and waved it over his head while Liam squinted from the front of the plane to get a better look. "... The King Constantine Guide To Fucking Torture In The 21st Century; Father gave it to me after my investiture ceremony. The way I see it, there really is no other option here than to tie her to a tree in front of the palace, invite the public to watch for a modest fee, and do some cool shit with iron rods and spikes. I got dibs on the knee-splitter, though."

"Leo ..." Liam began to warn his brother how ridiculous that plan was before stopping himself and staring off into the distance for a moment in thought. "Wait ... is there anything about flaying in that book?"

"Hell yeah there is! And if you're interested in thumbscrews, my buddy, Pete, has a trunk full of them. He uses them for ass play, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow them to split Maddie's thumbs in half." Leo let out a maniacal laugh.

Liam chuckled, despite the peculiarity of the conversation. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not interested -- to the contrary, actually. And while I appreciate your help in seeing that Madeleine is brought to justice, I think we better stick to more lawful means."

"Boo, you whore!" The line went dead with a click. 

Liam held the phone away from his ear, watching Leo sink down into his chair in a huff. "Really?" He called back in agitation. Met with the silent treatment and a middle finger from his disgruntled brother, Liam rolled his eyes, then slumped back down into his seat. Maybe he'd try to call Riley again.

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

The phone on Riley's nightstand buzzed again. She knew it was another call from Liam, and while she felt remorseful for ignoring all of his calls and texts, she couldn't bring herself to look at or answer them quite yet. The sooner all ties between them were broken, she believed, the quicker he could forget all about her and the mess she made of everything. 

But even her willpower was slipping. Riley slid her hand out from under the pillow and reached over to pick up her phone. Holding it to her chest, she contemplated for a second just reading his texts and returning his calls, but Madeleine had warned to end all contact with him. Obviously, she was curious about what he had to say, but it was too risky. I'm so sorry, Liam. 

Hitting the power button on her cell, the light on the device faded to black before she tossed it in the nightstand drawer.

Early the next morning, Riley's eyes flickered open to the sound of a banging on her front door, followed by the incessant ringing of her doorbell. Feeling exhausted from a lack of sleep, mainly because of crying and unable to think about anything other than how she hurt Liam, Riley decided to ignore it. She just wanted to be left alone, and eventually, they'd give up and leave, right?

Except they didn't.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh and then eased herself up out of bed; the pain in her back was still a problem. Tossing a robe over her body, she slowly made her way down the stairs of her townhome -- each step excruciating -- until she finally made it to the door.

Twisting the lock, she opened the entry door, before letting out a sudden gasp at the tearful person standing on the other side. 

"Oh my God, Riley! Y-You're alive! You're really alive!"

"Alyssa?" Riley's best friend from New York pulled her into a relieved hug, nearly sobbing at that point. "What're you doing here?"

"I thought something terrible happened to you, but now that I can see you're still among the living ..." she sniffled before pulling back and narrowing her blazing blue eyes at her friend. "Where have you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you ever since you texted me that you were boarding a plane in Cordonia, and that something serious happened involving Tyler. You promised me you'd call as soon as you landed--"

"I know. I'm so sorry. It was late ..."

 " -- and you didn't. Then I worried, even more, when you didn't answer any of my calls back. I had to book the first red-eye flight here to make sure you were all right." Finished with her rant, a huffing Alyssa's jaw immediately clenched. "Now, what did that shithead ex of yours do? I'll kill him if he hurt you, Ri. I might be small, but I'm scrappy like an alleycat. You know I'll claw his eyes out."

Riley let out a light chuckle; Alyssa was always overprotective of her and had a clever way with words, but quickly, that chuckle faded into a teary frown. "Oh, Lyss," she whimpered as her face fell into her hands.

Alyssa quickly wrapped her arms around Riley and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Aww, Riley. Sweetie, it's going to be okay," she soothed. 

Stepping inside, Alyssa kicked the door shut and led them both over to the sofa. Sensing Riley was in pain -- and not just emotional -- she helped lower her troubled best friend onto the couch. "I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened."

The best friends had remained in contact over the last several weeks. It was Alyssa's frantic morning phone call over a month ago that alerted Riley to the news coverage of her impromptu marriage to Liam, having saw it on the news. 

And while Alyssa was aware of everything about Cordonia and Liam, and how Riley fit into all that from their prior conversations, she listened intently while it was revealed to her the details of the incident with Madeleine and the video her ex-husband gave to the Countess.  

Grabbing a tissue from the end table, Alyssa handed it to Riley. "So this cow confronted you with that disgusting video and basically blackmailed you into leaving, or she would release it to the press?" Riley nodded somberly.."Ugh, I want this treasonous bitch thrown in the dungeon, subjected to live-streamed daily anal fistings with giant Hulk gloves ... And Tyler, I want to break every bone in his rotten body, one at a time. And I want to leave him there afterwards, dripping just enough water on his lips, so he doesn't die of dehydration, screaming in agony for the weeks it will take to die of starvation."

 Riley's face scrunched up. "God, Alyssa."

Alyssa shrugged. "What? I don't care; it's what they deserve for hurting you. Did you at least tell Liam what happened?"

This time, Riley shook her head. "No. Madeleine warned me if I told him, she would release the video, and then the council would likely force him to step down. I won't allow him to lose everything for someone like me." 

Irritated, Alyssa pressed a palm to her forehead. "Why are you like this?"

"Like, what?" Riley asked in exasperation.

"That whole, 'someone like me,' part. He wanted to stay married to you. He made you the queen of his country. You've said he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you for two seconds. And more importantly, you told me you have never felt more loved in your life, than you do when you're with him. The fact that you still question your worthiness to him blows my mind." 

Alyssa reached for Riley's shaky hand, able to tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks and the soft whimpers that she'd touched on something. "You're his pussycat, Riley. Liam already lost everything when you left him. Tell me you know that."

Riley wiped at her face., her voice stifled, "I just wanted to protect him."

"I know." Alyssa smiled softly. "But you needed to give him the chance to decide what he wanted. You made it for him because you know he'd choose you, regardless if he lost everything else; that's how much he loves you, Ri. You can't protect someone who loves you by hurting them. Besides, he's the King; he can simply execute the council if he wants to -- Liam’s not going anywhere."

"You just HAD to add that last part in, didn't you?" Riley laughed, feeling a sense of ease as her mood lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who could help her make sense of everything and realize she hadn’t exactly made the best call by leaving and not telling Liam what happened. "But what do I do about this video? What if Madeleine releases it to the public?"

"Yeah, a video of a married woman having sex with her husband -- Oh, the shame!" she retorted. "Look, you'll be famous on Pornhub for a few weeks, and it'll fizzle out. I know that doesn't make it all better, but you have a lot of people who love you ... we'll be there for you if that happens. Besides, it's Gonzo Dick; I doubt anyone will wanna watch anyway."

Riley snorted out at the nickname she gave her ex-husband. "Stop making me laugh." 

Alyssa cracked a grin. "Nah. If I can make you laugh at that asshole's expense and his crooked dick, then it's worth it."

"Well,” she breathed, “ I suppose I should get dressed and call Liam. Tell him what happened, and hopefully, he'll … forgive .." her voice trailed off at tasting an increasing collection of bile in her throat and a familiar rumble in her stomach. 

“What’s wrong?”

Riley frowned. "Damn it, why do I keep getting sick?"  

After rushing to the bathroom with Alyssa's help, Riley came out moments later, flushed and perspiring. Alyssa, who waited outside the door to make sure she was all right, eyed her friend with grave concern. "Ri, are you sure you don't have a concussion? You said that Madeleine caused you to fall, and you complained you’ve been getting sick a lot. Is there any chance you hit your head too?"

Riley considered for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I mean, it all happened so fast I don't really remember, but my head doesn't hurt."

"OH NO! You have memory loss too, on top of the vomiting and a hurt back? Riley, you need to go to the hospital now. This is serious."

"Alyssa, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital," Riley dismissed and hobbled past her friend toward the kitchen. "You always worry too much."

Alyssa followed behind her, brows bumped together in a scowl. "Because you're a stubborn ass who never listens, that's why. You need to get checked out," she insisted. Riley paid no attention as made her way to the fridge; that reaction only served to piss Alyssa off. "You can ignore me all you want, but you know as well as I do, I'll just keep annoying the hell out of you until you do it … I'll sing every Dave Matthews song ever written -- On repeat." 

Riley shut the fridge door and turned at the threat, giving her a dismayed glare. "You wouldn't." 

Alyssa tilted her chin. "You know damn well I would. I have... so much to say, so much to say, so much --"

"Please stop! I'm going."

---------

At Valley Hospital and Medical Center, Drake sat slumped down in the waiting room of the E.R;  a thawed ice pack covered his crotch. His increasingly irritated self caught sight of a nurse escorting yet another patient back for examination. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Tired of waiting, he cast the ice pack aside and marched straddle-legged to the triage desk where a beefy nurse with a scowl sat filing her nails. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He demanded bitterly.

The nurse remained focused on her nails and answered in a careless fashion. "You'll get called back when it's your turn, Mr. Walker."

"My turn? MY TURN? I've been here for 15 fucking hours waiting for my turn. I've watched one person after the next walk right in, get treated, and leave. Whose ass do I actually have to lick to get treatment around here?"

Unimpressed with his theatrics, she folded her arms on the desk and looked up at Drake with a glower. "Look. You got kicked in the wang by a hooker. Shit happens. It's not the end of the world. Go home, have a beer, and a good laugh. You'll live." She resumed her filing.

Drake ran both hands through his rumpled hair, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I cannot fucking believe you just said that to me. I suffer trauma on my transplanted dick, and the greatest healthcare minds in the world tell me to have a beer and laugh about it?" his voice shrieked.

The nurse blew on her nails. "That's what I said."

That snarky remark sent him even further over the edge. A red-faced Drake pounded two white-knuckled fists on the desk and leaned down into her space. "Now you listen here, lady. I demand to be seen right now, or so help me, I'll tear this whole goddamn place apart brick-by-fucking-brick! Do you understand me?"

Having none of that, the nurse, who was several inches taller than a startled Drake expected, sprung for her chair and loomed over him menacingly. Drake flinched when she rammed the nail file at him and threatened, "Now, you listen.You can either sit your ass down, or I will sit you down. Do you understand me?"

He didn't understand. He would never understand.

A security guard who heard the commotion casually approached the agitated pair and placed a firm hold on Drake's elbow. "Do we have a problem here, Betty Lou?"

She shook her head, sizing Drake up. "No, just some whiny-ass Karen griping about his dick."

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

Several moments later, Alyssa and Riley exited an Uber and wandered into the waiting area, making their way up to the triage line -- or what they thought was a line. It was actually Drake still standing there, continuing to protest his case to anyone who would listen and demanding to speak to someone in charge.

While Riley dug through her purse to retrieve her health insurance card, Alyssa couldn't help but be taken in by the fiery debacle taking place in front of them. She inched a little closer, unable to help herself; it was good drama and sucked her right in. 

Catching a glimpse of Drake’s sour face, she cocked her head introspectively; there was something oddly familiar about the man in the denim shirt going off. Alyssa tapped her chin. Where have I seen him before?  

Before long, the realization set in, and her eyes snapped wide open. She nudged Riley with an elbow and leaned over, whispering, "Hey, isn't that the guy from the news who had the penis transplant? It looks just like him."

Knowing precisely who that was by the description, Riley popped her head up to look. She hadn't known Drake well, only that he was Liam's best friend, and after having spent time together on the plane ride to Cordonia with him, that her maid-of-honor had given him several venereal diseases. "Drake?" she called out.

While Alyssa zoned in on his groin, curious as to what was in there, Drake broke away from the dispute and turned his focus toward the familiar-sounding voice. She was a connection to home and a long-sought-after friendly face. "Riley? Liam's insta-bride, Riley?" 

She let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's how you would know me ... What are you doing at the hospital? Is your body rejecting the ..." Her embarrassed gaze dropped lower with a gulp. " ... thing?"

"No!" he barked. "I just got attacked by that ... uh, someone."

"You got attacked?" Shocked, Riley placed a hand over her chest. "Why would someone attack you? Are you okay?"

Feeling incensed by the memory, Drake shook his head and muttered. "It's a long story ... What about you? What are you doing here? Thought you were in Cordonia with Liam?"

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils and forced a smile. "It's a long story too."

Drake peeked over his shoulder at Nurse Ratchet, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare from behind her computer screen. He groused and turned to face Riley again. "I've got time."

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

Nearly 12 hours after takeoff, the royal jet touched down in sunny Las Vegas, an hour ahead of schedule. Liam and Leo stepped off the plane and strolled across the tarmac to the awaiting vehicle, where a smiling man held the rear passenger door open.

"Bastien," Liam greeted as he approached. "Good to see you again."

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Likewise ... I have the rental car you requested, and the Queen's address is already programmed into the GPS. Should take no more than 30 minutes to get there."

"Perfect,” he replied, clapping Bastien’s shoulder.“Thanks for having everything ready to go."

Liam had contacted the head guard -- who was still jailed for non-support -- and gained him a day-long pass to provide security detail. Bastien was also to stay in contact with his guards to oversee the capture and detainment of Madeleine.

Bastien took their bags, and the brothers hopped into the back of the Escalade. Once they pulled away from the airport, the directions led the group west. The head guard glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as he drove on. “I want to thank you for giving me a second chance. It’s nice to be out of that place, even if just for the day.”

Liam smiled back. “Not a problem, good man. I can’t think of anyone else I trust more for the job than you … though I’m not sure why. Anyway, do you have any updates on the Madeleine situation?”

“Yes, sir. I contacted my colleagues again just before you arrived. Countess Madeleine was taken by surprise when our guards arrived at her family estate in Krona. Once in custody, she was immediately transported to Valtoria for detention, exactly as you requested.”

"That's terrific news ... Wait ...Did you say, Valtoria?" Liam asked with puzzlement in his tone. 

"Yes, sir. As you requested." 

"Man, please tell me Mads tried to fight them off, and they had to use the taser on her," Leo insisted as he held his crossed fingers in the air. "A billy club ... a rubber hose ... something."

"There may have been a brief verbal exchange and some threats, but the Countess promised if they permitted access to her computer to send a quick email, she would go with them peacefully and without further protest. There didn't seem to be any harm in doing so, and she followed through with her word. Sorry to break it to you, Prince Leo, but no tasers were harmed in her capture."

"Well, fiddle shit." Leo glanced over at his brother --who was still scratching his head -- in disappointment. "If only I'd been able to get that shock collar on her while I was engaged to her, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. She just squirmed too much. I’m sorry I let you down, little brother."

"It's fine, Leo; it's not the first time,”  Liam said dryly before turning his head away from Leo to face the front again. "Can we get back to Madeleine being taken to Valtoria? I never requested that. An accused of the Crown is always placed in the palace dungeon. There aren't even cells in Valtoria to hold her in. What am I missing here?"

Approaching a stoplight, Bastien lightly pressed the brakes, then met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “The orders I was given to pass along to the guards from you earlier were clear in your text: Once she’s taken into custody, she is to be sent to Valtoria and placed in the cage with the monkey until further notice. That’s what they --”

“Mongo! They put her in the cage with Mongo?” Liam exploded before pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no point in asking how that message got mixed up. “Goddamn it, Leo! Why are you, you, sometimes?” He ran a swift hand down his face and turned to glare at his brother. “Do you realize they consider that cruel and unusual punishment? Did you ever stop to consider how much shit I'm going to hear over this if this gets out?" He let out a sharp breath and threw his hands in the air."How? How did you do it?"

"It's simple pimple, Liam. When you went to the bathroom, I grabbed your phone," he replied bluntly with a shrug. "And according to page 24 of Father's torture book: It's not considered cruel and unusual punishment, as long as she has food, water, and clean shelter -- which she does. Or ... if she's housed with a member of the royal family -- which she is. Mongo is the heir to the throne, so we've got that covered too. So just relax, little bro; Leo’s got it all taken care of for you."

Liam dropped his chin to his chest, then let out a weary breath. “Bastien, call the guards and have them move her to the palace at once.” 

As Bastien placed the call, Liam shifted in his seat so that he was staring out the window. He put a palm over his mouth to conceal the curved lips that formed a devilish grin, trying to contain the unbearable urge to bust out laughing. Oh, Maddie ... I hope you and Mongo had one hell of a time together.

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

Back at the hospital, Riley situated herself on the gurney while a nurse prepared to check her vitals and ask general health questions. 

In the next bay over, separated by a thin sliding curtain, Drake was finally attended to after Riley reluctantly, but willfully, played up her celebrity status. Once she threatened to have the hospital shut down -- which she doubted was even possible on her end -- the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for both of them; she was still a queen, afterall. 

Steps were then taken to ensure they both received the royal treatment, so to speak. That wasn’t typically how Riley preferred to handle situations; she hated big fusses over her. But in the end, she did help one of Liam’s oldest friends finally get the medical attention he needed, so it was worth trying. 

The blood pressure cuff on Riley’s arm squeezed tighter just as one of the doctors stepped inside and slid the curtain all the way closed. His cheerful greeting drew Riley's fixed gaze away from the changing numbers on the monitor beside her bed, and she smiled up at him.

The doctor was tall and thin, with thick spectacles perched near the tip of his nose. He gave a brief nod to Alyssa, who was sitting in a chair at Riley’s bedside, rubbing her shoulder. Scanning the patient chart, he spoke without looking up, "Queen Riley, it says here you suffered a fall?"

"I'm just Riley,  please," she requested.

The doctor looked up from the paperwork and nodded with an understanding smile. "Of course." 

After the initial exam concluded, Alyssa remained behind after the doctor ordered x-rays and transport had wheeled Riley down to radiology. 

Bouncing her crossed leg as she scrolled through her phone, Alyssa tried to bide her time until Riley returned. An air conditioning vent overhead that she didn’t realize drowned out so much noise around her, suddenly flipped off. Able to catch the conversation on the other side of the curtain better, she listened with a broken heart as Drake reluctantly described to an attending, the worst days of his life. Alyssa shuddered as he recalled the moment his penis fell off, rolled across the bed, and dropped onto Ethan Ramsey’s leather shoe during an exam. “That poor man. I just want to hug him,” she muttered.

Her little ears perked when the doctor mentioned he was “going to have a look at it.” In her curious mind, there were no doubts that she was too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take a peek at the first transplant of its kind; no way was she going to miss out on that. 

Alyssa slid to the edge of her seat and raised her hand to up to the curtain, easing a tiny portion of it aside. Her blue eyes crinkled with frustration at a nurse who was blocking her view. “Move your ass,” she whispered to herself.

Unable to get a good view, she gave up that spot and eyed the other opening in the curtain at the far end of the room. Sliding off her chair to a crouching position on the floor, Alyssa crab-walked as fast as she could without falling off balance until she made it to the other side. Crooking a stealthy finger along the seam of the curtain, she hoped and prayed Drake’s genital exam wasn’t through yet. What her eyes saw on that gurney when she pulled the fabric aside caused her heart to jolt out of her chest. 

Alyssa cupped a hand over her gaping mouth before stepping back and letting the curtain fall loosely shut again.  Dropping her hand limply at her side, staring blankly at nothing, she mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

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

Down in the radiology department, Riley sat patiently in her wheelchair, waiting for the tech to return to take the x-rays. Enjoying the lighter feeling of having an empty bladder again, she let out a contented sigh; she was about to bust earlier. That mandatory urine sample couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. 

Left alone to ruminate in her thoughts, Riley wondered about those phone calls she ignored last night from Liam. The regret she felt over her actions the last 26 hours continued to mount up. And it took a heart-to-heart with her best friend to really put things into perspective. Her decisions weren’t the best course to take, even if they were done with the most loving of intentions. 

There was a lot to make up to Liam, and she only hoped that it wasn’t too late. Could he even forgive her for all of it?

She wished he was there with her right now. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he’d be standing around telling inappropriate jokes to make her laugh or embarrass her with his silly antics. It was like Liam could be two different people sometimes: Kingly and stoic around everyone else, but the second it was just him alone with her, he was such a big kid. Somehow, she could bring out his true self; the one where he felt comfortable enough to be silly and playful. And as much as she tried to play them off, those little pet names he gave her -- she chuckled to herself as they popped into her head -- were funny. What the hell even was a knucklehead mcspazzatron? 

“Miss Brooks” Riley shook herself of her thoughts as the x-ray tech returned and made her way over. “I apologize that took so long.”

Riley smiled up at her. “No need to apologize… Are you ready for me now?”

“Not exactly,” she teased in such a cheery tone, Riley slightly lowered her eyelids, holding her gaze. “You most likely won’t be getting x-rays today, sweetie.” She held a fisted hand out to Riley and opened her palm to reveal the small object inside. “You’re pregnant.”

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

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#fools rush in #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #bbrandy2002

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [eighteen] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 3.2k

author’s note — judging from how this story is progressing, there’ll be two more chapters before the epilogue.

masterlist

Jungkook couldn’t hear anything.

He couldn’t hear his two hyungs calling out his name, asking him what’s wrong, or even his son who stood right beside him, grasping and tugging on the sleeves of his jacket with a pout on his lips, wondering what was the reason for this father’s sudden change in behavior.

His world, the one that he has been trying to rebuild from scratch was slowly tearing apart and crashing down all around him once again.

Both Namjoon and Jimin glanced at each other before staring at the younger member with worry. Neither of them have ever seen him act like this before, and that was concerning because even when you two were going through the process of finalizing your divorce he didn’t behave this way.

“Jungkookie,” came out of Jimin’s mouth as he took a seat beside the maknae on the couch. “You’ve got to tell us what’s wrong if you want us to help you.”

Again, Jungkook was silent— at least, that was until Jimin nudged him at his side, breaking him out of his thoughts. “S-Sorry, what do you say?”

“What’s wrong?”

This time, it was Namjoon who spoke up, standing in front of the two members with his arms crossed over his chest and staring down at them with an intent gaze in his eyes.

Jungkook opened his mouth, but stopped himself from answering when turning his head and seeing his son still standing right beside him. “Bubs,” he then speaks up. “Can you go wait in the living room while I talk with your samchons? You can play on my phone.”

“Okay, appa...” Minho seemed hesitant at first, but obeyed nonetheless, taking his father’s phone and leaving without saying another word.

“Are you finally going tell us what’s wrong, now?” Jimin asks once Minho was out of the room, and when he did, the two members fell into silence. Now they understood why the young maknae was such a trembling mess when coming back from checking who was at the door.

Nobody knew what to say, only Namjoon spoke up after a few seconds of tensed silence between them three. “When are you going to tell ___?”

The moment Jungkook heard that question he shot up from the couch with wide eyes and shook his head vigorously. “I-I’m not!”

“What?” Jimin’s eyes widened, gaping at him. “You have to tell him, Jungkook.”

“I-I can’t, hyung. You don’t understand,” continuing shaking his head, Jungkook tried to say without stuttering but failed. “If I tell him about this then it’s over, we’re done and I lose him forever.”

“But keeping this from him is wrong—”

“I just can’t!” Jungkook suddenly snaps, surprising both him and the two other members. “I-I’m so close to getting him back, hyung.” Heavy tears glistened in his brown eyes as he stared at the two of them. “He said that this is my last chance to make things right between us, so if he learns about this then it’s over. I’ll lose him for good this time.”

When the thought of losing you crossed his mind, the tears that Jungkook tried so hard to keep inside of him escaped and slid down his cheeks.

“A-And, I can’t lose him hyung,” he was now fully sobbing at his point, loud cries coming out of his mouth as he collapsed back onto the couch and shoved his face into the palm of his hands. “Not when I’m so close to getting him back—to getting my family back.”

“Jungkook,” sighing, Namjoon sat down beside him and wrapped his arm comfortingly around his shoulders. “I know you’re scared—but isn’t lying and keeping secrets what got you two here in this situation in the first place?”

And when Jungkook slowly nodded, face still covered by his palms he continued. “If you start lying and keeping secrets again, then it doesn’t matter if you two fix things—because everything will be revealed sooner or later. Secrets never stay hidden forever.”

Jungkook sniffled, remaining silent.

“He’ll understand, Jungkook.” Jimin spoke up, taking a seat on the other side of him and placed a comforting hand on his thigh. “___ loves you so much, you two will get through this—together.”

“You know,” raising his head up from his hands, Jungkook wiped the remaining tears that stained his face. “When ___ told me that he was giving me another chance I was so happy. My heart was racing nonstop and the smile on my face was so wide that my jaw even started to ache.”

Jungkook then sighed, glancing down and staring at his conjoined hands, the grip he had on himself being tight enough to where his knuckles were starting to turn white. “I thought everything would be perfect once we got back home, and it has been. He let me move back into the house, and we’re even planning to have dinner together tonight as a family. But that all came to shit when Yeonha came and told me—” he stopped, feeling another sob coming up his throat and more tears stinging his eyes.

“I could see him, you know.” Jungkook continued, “When Yeonha told me, I could visually picture ___ in front me, crying and hitting me, forcing me to sign my name on our divorce papers—the ones that he has signed already, and—” he paused, this time not being able to stop himself from crying. “I can’t lose him, hyung. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t...”

Jungkook kept repeating those two words as bawled until Jimin wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his chest. “I know that this is hard Jungkookie, but being honest is the best way to go about this. Lying will only make things worse between you two.”

Jungkook sighed, nodding and using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the stray tears that were still streaming down his face. He knew he was right.

“I-I’m just scared, hyung...”

“—hey, are you alright?”

Jungkook’s eyes instantly tore away from his plate at the sound of your concerning voice, gaze falling on your worried expression. Jungkook quickly nodded his head and spewed out a weak, “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure,” you continued to question. “You’ve not spoken a word since you got home.”

“S-Sorry, I’m just tired that’s all.” Jungkook attempted to dismiss the topic but when staring at your expression, he knew that he couldn’t escape it any longer.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Reaching across the table, you gently placed your hand over his, unaware of how his heart skipped a beat from your touch.

Jungkook stared at you, eyes filled with many emotions that he was having trouble containing. Before saying anything, he glanced at Minho who sat silently between the two of you, playing with the few leftovers of cooked broccoli on his plate. “Hey bubs,” he spoke softly. “Can you please go to your room so that your appa and I can talk privately?”

Minho pouted, “But I want to stay and have family dinner with you two—”

“Please, bubs.” Jungkook begged, eyes softening.

You watched as your son then frowned but nodded nonetheless, standing up from his seat and pushing his chair in underneath the table. “Okay, appa.”

“I-Is everything alright,” came out of your mouth the moment you two were alone at the table, eyes filled with worry and concern.

Jungkook’s eyes glanced around everywhere except for your eyes, obviously trying to avoid your gaze—which only made the anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach grow even more.

“Jungkook,” you spoke up after a brief silence. “You’re worrying me, please say something.”

He couldn’t speak, tears were already starting to burn in his eyes and he couldn’t help but place his other hand over yours, tighten his grip on you—almost as if he was afraid you’d slip away if your hand slipped from his grasp.

“There is something that I have to tell you,” Jungkook started, eyes still refusing to meet your gaze. “And I-I don’t know how to say it.”

“And that is...?”

“Yeonha came to see tonight—” and that’s when your heart sunk into the depths of your stomach.

“W-We need to talk, Jungkook.”

“Yeonha, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks again, holding the door slightly open to where the gap was only small enough to fit his head and half of his body.

“I-I heard you were back, and I needed to talk to you in person since you weren’t answering any of my calls—”

“That’s because I blocked you,” Jungkook interrupted her quite harshly, hands gripping onto the door’s handle tight enough to where his knuckles were turning slightly white. “You wouldn’t stop calling even after I kindly asked you not to. And yet,” taking a step forward, his eyes glared down at her. “You still chose to keep calling me, knowing I was on vacation with my family.”

“It was an emergency—”

“Emergency?!” Jungkook nearly laughed at her poor excuse, eyes rolling and a scoff falling from his mouth. “The first dozen of your calls was just of you crying, begging me to give you another chance...”

It was almost ironic that Yeonha was now in the same position as he was in with you before.

“But I’m telling you the truth, Jungkook.” Yeonha’s eyes were glistening with tears, hands laced together as she practically begged him to let her continue. “This is an emergency.”

“Then what is it then?” Jungkook asks, opening the door wider and standing in front of her with his arms crossed over this chest intimidatingly.

Yeonha’s eyes briefly glanced at the either side of her, taking in the empty hallway before turning back towards Jungkook. “Can I come in, please? What I’ve got to say is kind of...private.”

Jungkook sighed but opened the door wider, stepping aside so that she could enter the room before closing it behind her. “Alright,” he then leaned against the door, arms still resting across his chest as he stared at her. “Now, what do you have to tell me?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“W-What?” Jungkook’s eyes instantly widened and arms dropped down and became limp by his side. “You’re pregnant—how? We always used protection and you’re also taking birth control.” And when he only recieved only silence from her, his eyes hardened and hands clenched into fists. “You are taking birth control, right? You told me that you were.”

Yeonha was staring down at the ground, purposely avoiding his glaring eyes while playing with her fingers anxiously. “I may have forgotten to take them—this past month.”

“What the fuck, Yeonha?!” Jungkook shouted, lowering his voice immediately afterwards when remembering that his son and two hyungs were just down the hall in the studio—barely ten feet away from where they two stood right now. “What were you thinking—”

“I-I’m sorry,” trembling slightly and tears shining in her eyes, she took a step backwards. “I meant to refill my prescription, but I kept forgetting—”

The rest of her words were muffled out. Jungkook couldn’t breathe, his heart was racing and chest was aching. When hearing that she was pregnant, his mind instantly thought of you. He couldn’t believe this happening—not when everything was beginning to return to the way it used to be. He was finally moving back home to be with you and Minho, and you three are going to have dinner tonight as a family. Everything was slowly becoming perfect again.

No, he refused to believe any of this.

“You’re not pregnant,” came out of his mouth, not a single ounce of emotion in his voice.

“What?”

“You’re not pregnant.” Jungkook repeated with a much more serious tone, eyes glaring at her. “You’re lying about being pregnant because you think that it would make me stay with you, but it won’t.”

Yeonha’s eyes widened, disbelief on her face. “You think I’m lying,” and when he nodded she continued. “Here, you asshole.”

Jungkook watched as she reached inside her purse and pulled out a pregnancy test, tossing it at him which he caught with ease. Two lines. “No, no, this can’t real—”

“Wow,” laughing loudly, Yeonha rolled her eyes. “Even after seeing the proof yourself you still don’t believe me. Well guess what, honey? I am pregnant with your kid that is actually related to you.”

The moment Jungkook heard those words—related to you—the only thing he could see was red as he took slow, intimidating footsteps towards her until he was standing right in front of her, face inches from hers. “What the hell is that suppose to mean?”

Yeonha had to admit that seeing Jungkook this way was kind of frightening, but she still stood her ground. “What do you think? I’m pregnant with your kid, someone who is actually related to you, who has your blood running through their veins. Minho isn’t even yours! You and ___ just got him from some agency—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that sentence,” Jungkook seethed, eyes and nose flaring with pure rage as he stared at her. “Minho is my son. Yes, he might not have my blood or ___’s running through his veins but we were there when he was born. We were the ones that took him home from the hospital, who raised him, who taught of him how to walk and talk. He has my name, he’s my son no matter what, and nothing will change that.”

Yeonha could only chuckle and shake her head. “Whatever you say, but that won’t change the fact that I am the one carrying your real child.”

Jungkook was about to snap again, but the sound of another voice, this one being much lighter and softer interrupted him. “Appa?” Jungkook’s face paled, noticing his son standing in the hallway with his head sticking out from around the corner and staring at him.

“Hey bubs,” pushing past Yeonha, he knelt down in front of him. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you with your samchons like I told you to do?”

“They started singing again and I got bored. When are we going home?”

“Right now,” lifting him into his arms, Jungkook glanced at Yeonha who was staring at him with a smirk on her lips. “Let’s just say goodbye to your samchons, okay?”

The last thing he saw before going back to the studio was Yeonha smirking at him, mouthing “see you later, handsome.”

“S-She’s pregnant.”

Jungkook couldn’t say anything. After explaining everything to you his eyes were shining with tears as well as yours.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you mumbled out, eyes avoiding his and staring blankly at the dining table. You attempted to pull your hand away which resulted in him tightening his grip on you. That’s when you noticed the true emotions he hid behind his eyes—he was scared, terrified even. He was scared that if your hand slipped from his grasp, then that meant he lost you.

“I just want you to know that nothing is going to change—”

“It changes everything, Kookie,” you cut him off, raising your other hand to wipe the few stray tears that slipped from your eyes. “What are you going to do? Should we just get that divorce so that you can be with—”

Jungkook interrupted in an instant, shooting up from his seat and kneeling down in front of you. “No, we are not getting a divorce.”

“But what about Yeonha?” You couldn’t believe you were actually concerned about her, and yet, here you were. “My eomma was a single parent for most of my childhood, and I know how hard it can be for someone to raise a child alone. She needs someone there for her—”

“And I am going to be there for her,” Jungkook quickly cut in, “But I’m also not leaving you.”

You found yourself only able to nod, some sniffles escaping from your lips which made Jungkook slip his arms around your waist and pull you close to him, resting your head against his chest while his cheek was pressed gently on top of your head. “I’m sorry you’re going through this because of me. If you want, we can get a divorce. I’ll sign the papers without fighting you—”

“No,” you interrupted him, moving your hands so that they were now around his neck instead of his chest, pulling him closer to where there was no space in between you two. “I-I don’t know why I suggested that in the first place, I’m sorry...”

The thought of actually divorcing made a sour feeling in the pit of your stomach and you did not like it one bit.

Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You don’t need to apologize, baby.”

“So what are you going to do?” You mumbled against his chest, shifting your face to nuzzle into his neck.

“Well, I’ll be going to go the doctor appointments with her,” Jungkook started, running his hands up and down your back soothingly while pressing multiple kisses along your forehead and cheeks. “And I’ll be paying for just about everything.”

You hummed in reply, eyes closed.

“But this doesn’t change anything between us,” Jungkook then adds, feeling your tensed figure against him.

“It changes everything, Jungkook.” You sighed, repeating the same exact words you said before. “She’s carrying your child.”

—or in other words, Yeonha will now be part of your guys’ life forever whether you want her to or not, and there wasn’t anything neither of you can do about it.

You didn’t have the strength to sleep.

Staring up at your bedroom’s ceiling, you couldn’t stop wondering how much your life is going to change now that Yeonha will be part of it—permanently. She’ll be around more, she’ll be around Jungkook, and Minho—

Oh god, your mind suddenly exclaimed. How are we going to explain this to Minho?

You couldn’t breathe, you needed someone—you needed him.

Just as you were about to get up from your bed, knocking was heard on the other side of the door. “___—” it was Jungkook. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?” He asks on the other side, his voice barely audible, careful not to wake Minho who was asleep just down the hall. You hummed in reply, loud enough for him to hear and the door opened right after, and the sight of him took your breath away. Jungkook stood there, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, chest fully exposed and showing off his mouth watering muscles and beautiful tattoos. “Can’t sleep?”

You found yourself only able to nod, not being able to tear your eyes away from his toned torso. “Can I sleep here?” You only nodded again, swallowing the lump building inside your throat.

You shifted to one side of the bed, giving him space to slip underneath the covers. You didn’t wait for him to be situated before cuddling up to his side, loosely draping your arm over his lower abdomen and resting your head against his chest. Jungkook became comfortable around you as well, moving his arms so that they were around you and holding you close to him.

“Jungkook,” you spoke up softly, eyes open and staring up at him. “We’re going to be fine, right?”

“Of course,” answering almost instantly, Jungkook leaned down and pecked your lips, chuckling at your flushed expression. “We’ve been through worse.” — nearly getting a divorce for that matter.

“Okay,” smiling up at him, you closed your eyes, finally feeling a sense of comfort flowing through you when being in his arms. “I love you.”

A single tear fell from his eyes, “I love you too.”

TAGLIST:

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[nyctophilin]

Fake Affection | II

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing

A/N: Remember when I said this will only have two part? Well, I’m a big fat liar. The drama kind of started this chapter and I’m excited for it. Also, thank you so much for for the huge support I got for the last part. I’m really grateful for that. I hope you like it, hehe. Feedback is very much appreciated.

      Y/N was sitting in Script Interpretation class trying to go over the script they were going to discuss that day once more. Her concentration was interrupted by a pile of books being slammed into the table way too close to where her hand was resting. Lifting her head to look for the culprit she locked eyes with Hayoon. A shiver went through her body.

      “Hey, girl. How are you doing?” Her voice was abnormally high and she hated how she couldn’t hide her feelings in front of her best friend. She really fucked up this time.

      “Oh, don’t you ‘girl’ me! Can you explain to me what the fuck is everyone talking about?” She wasn’t screaming, her tone calm. Way too calm. It was making Y/N way more scared than she should have been.

      Y/N lifted the script she was previously holding. “ Angels in Ame…” Hayoon hit the table with her palm and lowered herself to watch Y/N in the eyes.

      “Don’t you bullshit me Y/N. Why is everyone talking about you and Han Jisung being in a relationship?” Hayoon’s face was dangerously close to hers and she could feel the daggers that her eyes were sending in her direction.

      She gulped visibly before putting her hands on Hayoon’s shoulders and slowly pushing her away from her. “Well, we are in a relationship.” She didn’t dare look her friend in the eyes.

      Annoyance was embracing Hayoon’s facial features. She clicked her tongue before exhaling loudly. “And why didn’t I know? And most importantly, when the fuck did it happen?” The girl’s voice started to rise in volume.

      “Ok, please calm down! I’ll tell you everything at the end of the class. The professor is supposed to arrive any minute.” Y/N had a pleading face on, grateful for the fact that they didn’t have a free period. She hoped that maybe during the class Hayoon would calm down even a little. She really couldn’t deal with her friend when she was angry.

      Like it was on cue, the professor entered the classroom and greeted everyone. Hayoon threw Y/N a look that meant they were not done there and focused on the professor.

      Throughout the class, Y/n couldn’t focus on what they were talking about. She was thinking of what to tell her friend so she believes her and Jisung are deeply in love or at least very horny for each other. She was told by more professors that she is one of the best actresses they have at the moment but in front of Hayoon, she felt just like a kid who’s done something bad for the first time.

      The time flew ridiculously fast that class and when the bell rang Y/N felt like she could have used some more hours to prepare for the talk she was about to have with Hayoon. Her friend got up and when they both finished packing their things she grabbed Y/N’s bicep as a method to prevent her from running away. 

      Hayoon led her outside of the campus and they sat down on a bench at the front of the university. That was the moment when she let go of her friend's arm. She made herself comfortable on the bench while Y/N was fidgeting nervously.

      “You can start talking” She tilted her head to the side waiting for an explanation.

      Y/N let out a shaky breath. “What happened is that he sat next to me in Canto class and then when the class was over he asked me to talk. He asked me out and now we are dating.” She said all that in a breath hoping that maybe Hayoon didn’t hear her.

      “Just like that?” The other girl’s voice filled her ears. Y/N looked at her confused. The girl rolled her eyes. “You started dating him just like that? Just because he asked you? What happened with ‘He’s a loser’, ‘He never takes shit seriously’, ‘He has a stupid face that I hate’? Weren’t he and Mina dating?” The flood of questions took her by surprise.

      “No, they are not dating. And he’s actually kind of nice. He has his bad parts but don’t we all?” She tried explaining without stumbling over her words which she succeeded in doing. Thankfully.

      “But what if it is some kind of bet or trick? You know who he is friends with. You should have thought better before saying yes.” She shifted her position closer to Y/N and put a hand on her forearm protectively.

      She was right. The whole thing was just a trick but she wasn’t the victim. She kind of felt bad now but the whole thing was actually harmless. They were just trying to make Mina jealous and if it didn’t work in a month or so, she would break up with Jisung. She turned her head towards her friend, tears stinging her eyes.

      “Yes, I know his friends but it’s not like that. I really do like him. Why can’t you be happy for me? Is it that hard to believe that a popular guy would like me?” A single tear fell down her cheek and Hayoon hugged her hurriedly, stuffing her face into her chest.

      “No, I’m sorry! Of course, he can. I’m sure a lot of popular guys like you! I was just worried!” Y/N sobbed a little and Hayoon hugged her tighter, rubbing her back soothingly.

       “It’s ok. I know you mean well.” Y/N hated having to use the fake crying on her friend but if they wanted that to work no one should know they were faking their relationship.

      The bell rang signalling the end of her last class. She gathered her things and waited a bit for Hayoon before leaving the room. Just as she stepped outside the classroom a hand snaked around her waist and she was pressed to a body.

      “Hey, babe.” Jisung said next to her ear before giving her neck a kiss. The girl jumped at the contact before relaxing upon realising that it was Jisung.

      “Hey.” She made eye contact with Hayoon who was sitting awkwardly to the side. She got out of his lock only to hold her friend’s hands and bring her closer. When she turned she noticed Hyunjin and Chan standing close to Jisung as well. “She’s my friend, Hayoon.” The men all greeted her.

      Hayoon gave them in return a smile that was visibly fake before turning to Y/N. “I have to go. See you tomorrow, ok?”

      “Yeah, see you.” She watched her get lost in the crowd before turning back to the boys.

      “She’s nice.” Jisung said ironically, rolling his eyes.

      “Give her time. She just doesn’t really like you.” Hyunjin and Chan held in their laughter as Jisung’s face turned into a hurt one.

      “But you like me, right babe?” His voice was as if he was talking to a child as he placed his hands on her hips bringing her closer.

      “You might have to give me some time as well.” The men finally let out their laughter as Jisung’s expression turned into an annoyed one. “What are you doing here, anyway?” She asked her head tilted to the side to show confusion and to distance herself a little bit from Jisung, who didn’t seem to have a problem with showing her affection.

      “I came here to wait for Jeongin and they came to wait for you.” Hyunjin smiled as he spoke. She smiled back at him feeling happiness invade her body.

      She turned her head towards her pretend boyfriend raising an eyebrow. “Did you want to tell me something?”

      “I actually came to take you home. I and Chan have to meet Changbin somewhere and your house is on the way there.” She felt a warm feeling in her stomach at his words. That was actually really nice of him considering the fact that they were not actually dating.

      “Jisung sweetie, you don’t know where I live yet.” Hyunjin snorted loudly, biting his lip to prevent himself from laughing. Jisung glared at him before looking down at Y/N.

      “Ok, I don’t know if your house is on the way there but we were going to drop you off.” 

      “That’s really sweet of you but I actually have the first meeting with the crew for the short movie I’ll play in. I can’t leave yet.” She finally got out of his arms as she wanted to turn around and leave. A pair of strong hands placed themselves on her biceps and stopped her from moving.

      “Easy there. You almost hit me. We still have 15 minutes until the meeting starts.” Jeongin explained as he went past her to greet each of the men individually.

      “I’m sorry!” A pinkish colour dusted her cheeks, embarrassed by her negligence to where she was walking. “We? Your crew is meeting now as well?” The innocence in her voice made Jeongin chuckle.

      “Y/N, we play in the same movie.” Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth fell agape at his words. Hyunjin and Jeongin giggled at her reaction.

      “Seriously?” Her question had Hyunjin rolling his eyes.

      “You say that like you haven’t been together in every single play since last year.” He was right but she didn’t remember seeing Jeongin at the auditions. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late.”

      “You play in it as well?” Her expression became even more shocked if it was possible.

      “No, I don’t. I’ll just come watch.”

      “I don’t think you are allowed to.”

      “Oh, please! Mrs. Bae loves me. I’m sure she won’t have anything against it.” Right after he finished talking he hooked an arm around Jeongin’s neck forcing him to follow his lead. When he got next to Y/N he did the same taking the girl by surprise.

      She regained her composure fast telling herself that Hyunjin is just a social butterfly. She lifted her hand and waved it ‘Goodbye!’ at the boys who she couldn’t see because of Hyunjin’s grip on her neck.

      Jisung watched as the three of them were heading for the auditorium. Taking another look at Hynjin’s arm around her neck, he scoffed. He had been particularly annoying since lunch and something told Jisung it wouldn’t be the last time.

     As long as he didn’t interfere with their plan to make Mina jealous, he didn’t really care what kind of relationship Hyunjin was trying to push with Y/N.

      “I can not wait to get the script. Cursed be the printer for breaking down today of all days!” Y/N chanted for the nth time in the last 20 minutes.

      The meeting went fairly well. They mostly talked about the concept of the movie more in-depth, met the other actors that they didn’t know thanks to them being from different majors and discussed about each character individually so they know how to prepare for the roles. The only thing that upset Y/N was the missing scripts that they were supposed to receive. She was so excited about the movie and she could not endure another day without knowing the entire story.

      She was currently walking home with Hyunjin and Jeongin. Despite being well past 7 PM the sun was still in the sky probably preparing to set soon. The spring breeze had her clutching her jean jacket to her body trying to get rid of the goosebumps covering her skin.

      “You’ve only told us that a thousand times in the last couple of minutes.” Hyunjin said being unable to suppress the smile that was tugging at his mouth upon seeing how excited she was.

      “Can you blame me? The concept of Hell and Heaven, the forbidden love, the action, the drama. Everything is so, ugh!” Y/N was making wide gestures with her hands as she spoke, having the men trying to avoid them in order not to get hit. Jeongin grabbed one of her hands stopping her ministration.

      “I have never seen someone so excited about a school project. Calm down! We’ll get the script tomorrow.” Her mouth formed into a pout at his words. The two men let out chuckles at her action.

      Taking a look around her she noticed a familiar coffee shop on the other side of the road. She cleared her throat as she stopped at the crossroad. 

      “My apartment is actually that way.” She used her index finger to point the direction of the coffee shop. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

      “Actually, I’m going that way as well.” Hyunjin said, pressing the button of the traffic lights.

      They said goodbye to Jeongin before crossing the street. There was a comfortable silence between the two of them for a few minutes.

      “I still can’t believe that they let you stay.” Y/N said, remembering how he sat behind her and Jengin the whole time. He would make short comments about the plot and characters from time to time, making her giggle.

      “I told you Mrs. Bae loves me. She’ll do anything for her favourite student.” He said matter of factly.

      “I just don’t understand how she can be such a bitch to everyone but you. She acted like you were her son, I swear to God.” She trembled as she recalled how the professor would talk to him in a baby voice and how she offered to give him her chair so he could sit comfortably.

      “Not everyone is as handsome and amazing as I am.” Y/N laughed shortly and shoved him slowly.

      Another minute passed before Hyunjin decided to speak.

      “You know what I don’t understand?” He asked, looking at her side profile.

      “What?” She made eye contact with him.

      “Now, I don’t want you to get offended, cause that is definitely your choice. However, why date Jisung? You could have had any boy on campus. Someone that’s actually mature and nice.” Hyunjin let his teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip. 

      He knew what he was trying to do was not ethical. Jisung was one of his best friends but he had to know. If he couldn’t get Mina, which everyone could, how did he convince someone of Y/N’s calibre to date him?

      “Perhaps you think too highly of me. I assure you, I couldn’t have had any boy on campus.” She let a breathy laugh leave her lips. Boys barely talked to her and every time they did they were very awkward and distant.

      “I’m afraid I have to disagree with you. A lot of guys like you. You are smart, talented, friendly and, please excuse my language, hot. You just seem unapproachable because…” He stopped in the middle of his sentence contemplating whether he should say it or not.

      “Because…” She encouraged him to speak.

      “You might have a resting bitch face sometimes.” He noticed she wanted to say something but cut her off. “AND. And there is this guy that claims to have confessed to you last year and he said you completely humiliated him.” He bit the inside of his lip.

      An irritated breath left her nose. “I swear to God. I knew that guy would do something like that. All I did was tell him I want to focus on school for a while and he literally started crying. When I told him he could ask me again in a few months he called me a bitch and stormed out of there.” She paused for a bit to regain her composure. “If he’s the reason no guy approached me all this time I’ll find him and give his ass a beating.” She declared clenching her fist in front of her face.

      Hyunjin chuckled at her action. “Ok, but let’s go back to Jisung.” That was a phrase he never thought he would say to a girl.

      “Ah, yeah. I don’t know. He was the first one to ask me out. He is kinda handsome and nice, I guess. I mean, he does that thing where he likes to make fun of people for no reason that absolutely drives me mad.” She exclaimed the last word clenching her jaw. “But he has been nice to me since we started dating. It has been only a day and a half but he knows that if he does something wrong I’ll dump him faster than he can rap.”

      “Hmm, interesting. So this is all it takes for you to break up with him. In that case, I want to let you know that he has been rude to me today before we came to meet you.” Y/N laughed and hit his chest softly. Hyunjin laughed as well, but his laugh wasn’t genuine.

      Y/N stopped walking and put her hand on his forearm. “This is where I live. Thank you for walking with me. It was fun spending time with you today.” A bright smile enveloped her features.

      Hyunjin took a look at the apartment complex behind her trying to figure out at what floor her apartment might be. Quickly, he shifted his eyes on her and without realising he patted her head smiling.

      “I had fun as well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go rub into Jisung’s face the fact that I found out where you live before him.” He said and turned on his heels to leave.

      Y/N noticed Hyunjin going in the same direction they came from and confusion settled inside her.

      “Hey! Where are you going?” She shouted after him.

      Hyunjin turned towards her and a smile tugged on his lips. “Actually, I live two streets behind.”

      Her eyes widened at his words. “Oh my God! Why didn’t you say so? I made you walk all the way here.”

      “I couldn’t let such a pretty lady walk alone at this hour.” His response came to her panicked rambling.

      “But it’s still really bright outside!”

      “Ok, you got me. I just wanted to spend more time with you.” A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hey! Don’t tell Jisung!” He winked at her before turning around and sprinting down the street.

      She casually walked into the complex and made her way to the third floor where her apartment was located. She fished her key from her bag and unlocked the door entering the residence. 

      When she found herself in the safety of her apartment she let her body slid down the white door. A rosy pink was covering her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip. What was that stupid feeling inside her chest? She needed to calm down. 

      Y/N got up from the floor and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and snatched a water bottle from the fridge door. She downed half of it in one go and used one hand to prop herself against the wall.

      “Mina, you bitch. Hurry up and fall in love with Jisung.” She mumbled pressing the cold bottle to her exposed collarbones.

      “How much more should we sit in silence?” Changbin whispered looking around at the people occupying the table.

      “Shhh. Be quiet! They’ll both rip your head off if you disturb them.” Hayoon spit in a barely audible voice.

      Changbin threw her an annoyed look. Why did Y/N’s friend have to sit with them as well? He glanced at Y/N and Jeongin who were seated across one another. Their eyes were scanning over the pages of the thick scripts they had in hand for the past 20 minutes, forcing everyone else around them to be quiet.

      “Whoa, what an ending! I knew I could trust our senior.” Y/N finally exclaimed, startling some of the people at the table.

      “Tell me about it. I can not believe you have to do that.” Jeongin said, placing the script next to his tray.

      “Don’t be sad, lover boy. I promise I’ll take good care of you in hell.” She winked at him before stuffing the script in her bag.

      “Do I sense some steamy stuff coming up?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at Jeongin.

      “Nah, just a kiss. But like, fucking finally!” Jeongin exclaimed, taking a bite from his food for the first time since he sat down.

      “How did we manage to be in so many plays together and not kiss once? That never happens. It started to worry me. Finally, the universe is in order again.” She joked pretending to wipe away sweat from her forehead.

      Jisung rested his elbow on the back of Y/N’s chair and leaned close to her. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve wanted to kiss Jeongin for a long time now?” His tone was meant to be teasing and intimidating but Y/N felt like laughing at his efforts to seem like a possessive boyfriend. She rolled her eyes visibly.

      “Don’t worry, babe. It’s just acting. No real feelings involved.” Her words carried a lot of meaning, one which only the two of them could understand.

      “Really?” His voice lowered an octave and using one finger he turned her head towards him capturing her lips in a slow kiss. 

      From the corner of his eye, he noticed Mina looking at them. She was seated a few tables away with her friends and a few guys from her major. He felt like smirking when she clenched her jaw and scoffed in their direction.

      He broke the kiss and proceeded to lick his lips tasting Y/N’s strawberry lip balm on them. He curled one hand over her shoulders and brought her closer. Upon placing a kiss on her temple, the sound of metal hitting metal ringed in the cafeteria. Mina abruptly got up from her table and left the cafeteria leaving her friends to clean up her tray.

      Minho let out a prolonged whistle rolling his eyes in the process. “Looks like someone is in a bad mood. I wonder why.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, the reason for Mina’s sudden outburst being well known at the table.

      “You snooze, you lose.” A smirk was plastered on Jisung’s face. “I think a year and a half was a good amount of time for her to figure out her feelings. I wasn’t gonna wait around for her my entire life.” He declared nonchalantly playing with a strand of Y/N’s hair.

      Y/N bit back a laugh at his bold statement. What he said wasn’t entirely wrong. He didn’t wait around for her but he sure as hell wasn’t over her like his tone wanted to make it seem like. She lightly patted his thigh under the table as a form of saying ‘Good one!’.

      “That kind of makes it seems like you are using Y/N to get over her. I’d be more careful with my word choice next time.” Hyunjin said in a stern voice, throwing Jisung a cold glare.

      “No one needs your fucking opinion. Why do you even care?” Jisung felt annoyance overwhelm him. Hyunjin has voiced a lot of his opinions regarding his relationship with Y/N ever since they’ve announced it. Most of them in private when she wasn’t present.

      “Cause I don’t want you hurting my friend. She’s been nice enough to date you. I feel like you should be grateful.” Hyunjin was clearly irritated by Jisung’s attitude.

      Y/N watched as the two men were throwing daggers at each other. The same fuzzy feeling from the day before started spreading in her body. She kept repeating to herself that Hyunjin was just being nice. All he did and said the day prior was just him being nice. Some of his words started playing in her head when she remembered the previous day. ‘I just wanted to spend more time with you. Don’t tell Jisung!’ He was probably just joking. Just some playful rivalry between the two.

      “It’s ok, Hyunjin. I didn’t see it like that. I’m fine.” She mumbled and started playing with her fingers under the table. She tried controlling her laboured breath.

      Jisung threw Hyunjin a victorious smile. Noticing a change in her demeanour he took a look at her. Cheeks dusted with the faintest of pinks and fingers playing nervously under the table. A smirk acaparated his face as he remembered the conversation he had with her the other day on the bench. She definitely had a crush on someone.

      The sound of a key turning in a lock was heard in the empty apartment. Y/N entered the residence and abandoned her bag on the hanger near the door. Taking off her boots, she made her way to the window in the living room to close it, the air in the apartment being way too chilly for her comfort. She picked up a plate from the coffee table that she abandoned there in the morning before leaving and took it to the sink in the kitchen before going to her bedroom.

      The space was fairly clean excepting her desk that had all sorts of assignments and books sprawled all over it. She took off her clothes and discarded them in the laundry bin before going to her closet to pick something comfortable to wear. She settled for a pair of burgundy sweats and a black hoodie, perfect for that spring weather.

      Just as she finished putting on the hoodie she heard her phone go off signalling that she got a message. Throwing herself on the bed she grabbed her phone that was on the nightstand next to her bed.

[Jisung,15:36]Tomorrow is Saturday. Let’s go on a date! :D

      Y/N pursed her lips after reading his message. She has planned to do research about her character for the movie the next day. Her fingers moved fast in typing a reply.

[Y/N,15:39]Is Mina gonna be there?

      She had no reason to go on that date if Mina wasn’t going to be there. It will be just a waste of her time. Her phone emitted the same ringing sound like earlier and she unlocked it to check his response.

[Jisung,15:40]Of course. Why else would I ask you on a date?

      His message had her rolling her eyes. She would bet all her money that he had a smug expression at that moment. Probably thinking that he did something. She was getting annoyed just thinking of it.

[Y/N,15:42]Time and place?

[Jisung,15:45] 6 PM. Text me your address, I’ll come pick you up.

      She sent him her address after a few minutes of contemplating insisting to meet there. She locked her phone and turned the silent mode on putting it back on the nightstand. Jumping out of bed she made her way to her desk prepared to start working on some of the assignments scattered on it.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #han #han jisung #han smut #han jisung smut #han angst #han jisung angst #han fluff #han jisung fluff #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz smut #skz angst #skz fluff

[numptypylon]

Epilogue

I added a short epilogue to Reunion and Intersection today, but I also wrote a much longer one, full of fluffy comfort, to get through the angst-writing in the first two chapters. It’s unedited, unfinished and ridiculously self-indulgent, and I don’t think it really goes with the story, so I elected to not post it, but I’m attaching it here, under the cut, for those interested. Keep in mind it’s a reject for a reason though; this is what my writing looks like in the explorative phase where I’m looking for the point, and in this case I didn’t really find it XD

~2K under the readmore

Callum got there early. A lot of people eyed him warily, but a letter from Queen Janai was a good smoother-of-grumpy-elf-tempers.

No-one had seen Rayla, so… she was probably not here yet.

He went to the inn, bought a large room, lit a roaring fire in there, activating the Sunfire rock he used to keep warm at night under the covers of the bed, and calling for the tub to be filled. It had the usual Skywing heating arrangement, only needing a good Fulminis to heat the water.

He resisted flying out to find her. He risked missing her again, and her leaving town before he got back.

It was about… hitting the point of intersection.

So, he waited at the city gates. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long as he expected, considering the distance she would have had to traverse. Maybe she had recovered and had travelled faster than he thought.

It was definitely her though. A small, lone figure on the mountainside.

He intended to wait for her until she got to him, but then she stopped to lean against a tree and he realized that she had not recovered and was up there sick in the snow… and that resolve evaporated like it had never been.

Like he would ever let her struggle alone a moment longer than she needed to.

 **

 It was a measure of her exhaustion that she didn’t notice him until he was basically right in front of her, and even then, her reaction was so much slower than usual.

It still… it was hard to believe it was real. For her too, surely more so.

He numbly pulled his scarf off, packing it around her neck and head. He grazed her cheek and felt it and she felt it and… she felt it, because the tears that had built up in her eyes spilled over at his touch, slipping down her dirty and flushed cheeks.

She looked ready to drop, and felt it too, when he put his arms around her and her disbelief gave way to relief. Whatever ridiculous level of stubbornness had kept her upright for the last day and night of walking through snow and up mountains when she should have been in bed… fell away and she slumped almost completely in his arms.

She sobbed hoarsely for a bit, and he let her.

And she let him, when his hand cupped the back of her head and her hair tickled his fingers and it hit him too that… it was really real, she was here.

They needed to… get to the inn though, so he pulled away and wiped his face. They could… and probably would… have a longer cry and a longer hug later. But she was sick and cold and there was a roaring fire and a filled bathtub two minutes of flight away.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I knew you were coming this way and that you were sick. And I booked a room for… you.” For them both, he hoped, but-

“What?” she blubbered. “But… aren’t… aren’t you mad?”

“I mean, of course I am, but… that’s not really… that can wait.”

“I’m…” she laughed weakly, more tears spilling over. “I’m so happy to see you and there’s… so many things I would like to say and… and I’m such a mess right now and so tired and I’m just… I’m so tired I cried earlier just because a stupid pine branch hit me in the face and knocked me off my sled and it continued down the mountain without me and I’d have to walk instead and-“

“Hey, hey!” He stroked down her flushed, wet cheeks, along fresh scratches where presumably that branch had hit her. Sledding, huh… she always was extremely resourceful and oh so daring. And that explained how she got here so fast. “Rayla, it’s okay. You can rest first. I’ll take care of things… of you. For as long as you want me to, but… definitely for the next few days.”

“How c-can you… are you… here-”

He leant his head against her forehead, relishing in the feeling of contact, even if her skin was clammy and too-hot. “That’s… complicated,” he said. “And also simple. You called me here. I came.”

“Manis. Pluma. Volantis.”

 **

 She staggered, when they set down, steadying herself on his shoulder, and Callum was glad he had elected to land in front of the inn instead of at the city gates.

She definitely wasn’t well yet, her breath rasping in her throat, her forehead beading with sweat, cheeks and ears flushed. The fever had maybe broken, but it hadn’t quite left. And she was exhausted, trembling with the effort of staying upright, her eyes dull and glassy.

People were staring, when they went inside, but the innkeeper came over and recommended the soup of the day, and their house-made herbal tea blend with Sky Yak milk, and assured them it would be brought to their room shortly, with a look of very obvious sympathy at Rayla.

And then the door shut behind them.

“I owe-” she started, but he cut her right off.

“No. You’re owed,” he said tightly.

“Owed what?” She sounded… nervous.

“Soup. Hot tea. A warm bed and a fire someone else made. General fussing. Love. Forgiveness. Kindness. A damn break, for once.”

“L-love?”

“Yeah, love.”

Her clumsy fingers fumbled at the clasps of her armor. They were still ice cold when he touched them, the skin red and no-doubt sore.

But she for once didn’t resist any help he gave, sinking gratefully into the tub he had prepared. A warm bath was possibly not great for her fever, but… it was pros and cons and he needed to warm up her hands and feet.

She was barely conscious when he helped her back out of the tub, so he just put her down on a towel on the bed, drying her hair as best he could. He at least managed to get her awake to pull off her own wet underwear and pull his clean night shirt over her head.

 **

 “Callum?” she asked, because… she wanted things, and she could have them. “Stay with me? Please.”

He pressed against her back, warm and real.

His hands engulfed hers, big and soft and familiar.

Full of real little details that her brain hadn’t accurately recreated.

The callus at the side of his right index finger, from his charcoal pencil. The scar from a clumsy sparring accident at the second knuckle.

His voice when he said her name and when he told her it was okay.

His kinda… snuffling non-snoring sleep-sound.

And new things, that she hadn’t known to add.

His arms, still skinny, but stronger than they had been.

His too-long hair flopping over his ears.

And things she had yet to find out.

 **

 “Morning-“ she muttered, as she woke, feeling warm. And her throat felt a lot better, too and most of that sticky, gross fever feeling was gone, although there was still some sluggish daze, everything just a bit vaguer and floatier than it should have been.

“Afternoon,” Callum corrected lightly, but there was something not so light underneath. “You slept for… 14 hours. I bet you’re hungry.”

“I bet… you were worried.” That was a long time to worry and not wake her to assuage it but just sit in it, watching her sleep.

She reached out to stroke his furrowed brow. Her hands were bandaged though, so she couldn’t touch him properly. She didn’t remember, but did recall something about Callum saying he had called a doctor, and then she must have conked out pretty hard and slept through it.

She clenched and released her hands experimentally. Seemed alright except for being stiff and sore?

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, staring down at the thick bandages.

“Except for the illness that nearly killed you because you’re such a massive dummy? Lots of things.” He took her hands, starting to unwind the bandages. “For your hands, hopefully only frostnip. I’m supposed to check that, when you woke, take you back to the doctor if there’s signs of deeper frostbite.”

There was some thick ointment, probably the reason for the bandages. Her hands looked reddened, the fingers a bit swollen, but… not so bad. Nothing was white or black or blistered, so really, nothing to worry about, where frostbite was concerned.

Callum wasn’t satisfied with a visual inspection though, cupping her hands in his, methodically checking she could feel all her fingers and make a full fist.

“I think it’s okay,” he said, breathing out, relieved. He did tend to catastrophize- “No… no risk of amputation this time-” His fingers slid across her left wrist, the faint whitened scars from where the binding had dug into her skin and where the sunforge blade had burnt her.

“It’s definitely okay,” she said. “Barely hurts.” She cupped his face, feeling his skin just fine against her fingertips. “It’s not like back then, okay?”

“How do you feel today?”

“Better. Way better. I’m ready to go, if-”

“What?!” He stared at her in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You didn’t hear what the doctor said. But I did, she got here while you were sleeping. And absolutely not.”

“What-“ Was it not just a regular bug?

He breathed, slowly and deliberately. “You’re okay, it’s a regular winter infection going around. But you did a number on your own immune system with the hypothermia and mountain climbing and… she said you were undernourished, dehydrated, stressed and critically exhausted. And that you would do well to take a week or more to fully recover, during which you should eat and rest plenty, stay warm and keep stress down. Does that sound like your regular travel, to you?”

Well… not so much.

“So, I’ll ask again, how do you feel today?”

“Tired,” she sighed. “My hands are stiff and achy. My throat hurts. My legs are wobbly. My head feels full of snot.” She smiled, despite all that. “My heart is happy to see you. It’s okay if you’re- I know… that it’s complicated.”

“It is. We have… some things to talk about. Promise you won’t leave until we do?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Then, I think we should put the complicated things away for a few days. Until you’re better and it doesn’t hurt your throat to talk. Because… we have a lot of talking to do.”

“You don’t… need to stay. For those few days. If it’s hurting you to-”

He sighed heavily. “It does.” Yeah, he couldn’t say that it didn’t. Being around her with so much… unresolved. She didn’t want that for him. She didn’t… want to have those long and hard conversations right now either, when she was still tired and fevered and liable to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. “But it would hurt me more to leave. Didn’t it hurt you? To leave?”

“Yeah.” So, so much.

He reached out to pack his scarf around her throat more closely, the soft, warm knit a soothing feeling against the raw ache.

“Lie down, okay? Be sick? I’ll read you a story. It has murder and dismemberment in it, I asked the innkeeper specifically.”

#rayllum #rayla #callum #tdp #the dragon prince #numpty fic tag #reunion and intersection

[bbysamu]

It Ain’t Me - Part IV

Featuring: KUROO Tetsurou x you ; AKAASHI Keiji x you

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,249

Warning: mentions of alcohol and drinking

Now Playing: It Ain’t Me by Kygo & Selena Gomez

✎ Preview: Kuroo continues to destroy his own life as he immerses himself in alcohol and women, desperately using them to drown you out. But he should’ve known about the consequences of his action.

Ch. I

Ch. II

Ch. III

Ch. IV

Ch. V

Epilogue

a/n: no excessive drinking please, don’t hinder your brain and health. 

Falling in love wasn’t like those Nicholas Sparks movies. Falling in love for Akaashi Keiji was natural, like breathing, something you don’t even notice unless you really pay attention. Akaashi Keiji has been in love with you since 14, and he didn’t even notice until the day you called him, squealing, “guess who just asked me out?”

Akaashi Keiji watched as you fall deeper in love with Kuroo Tetsurou. Of course he was upset, but watching his best friend so happily in love made him smile. After all, isn’t love wanting the love of your life to be happy?

Yet, even after all these years, the little sharp pain in his heart never dulled once as you send him cute pictures of you and Kuroo out on dates, listening to you ramble about your fights, his romantic gestures etc...

So when you called him, voice filled with so much pain, “he cheated on me”, Akaashi Keiji ran like never before.

He opened the door with ease, only to see you so small, face full of angry tears that was released into a sob when he wraps you around his arms.

Keiji has never felt so much urge to punch someone in the face when Kuroo knelt in front of you begging for forgiveness. And though he’d never admit it, shutting the door in Kuroo’s face felt so good.

The first few months of healing was a blur to you. All you could clearly remember were two things, the overwhelming pain whenever you think of Kuroo and how sweet and thoughtful Akaashi was.

Slowly, bit by bit, words after words, hugs of immeasurable  warmth, Akaashi pieced together your heart, stitching it back together with his love.

Akaashi watched you fall in love with him the same way he did with you, like breathing. So he didn’t say anything, he wanted it to be something you realized on your own.

It took you six months to realize you were in love with Akaashi Keiji.

Six months have passed since the Kuroo incident, it was another overtime, the boss finally letting you go. You walked out the company door, shivering slightly at the cold breeze.

“Y/n!” A familiar figure calls out. You were surprised to see Akaashi waiting for you with hot chocolates in hand.

“what are you doing here?” You asked him, heart warmed as he hands you the hot drink.

“Since you texted you’d be working late again today, I wanted to drop these off for you as a little boost of energy.”

“well great timing, the boss finally let me go. Wanna grab some late din din?”

Akaashi looks down at you, smiling sweetly, “sure, take out at yours?”

“and we can watch that new BNHA movie?” you asked, eyes gleaming with hope.

“sure.” He laughs, watching you do your little happy dance.

Back at home, Akaashi watches as you happily slurp your noodle, hitting his arms whenever an exciting part comes on. When the movie finally finishes, you leaned back against the sofa, watching Akaashi clean up the bowls and moving to the kitchen.

You watched as the black-haired setter move around in your kitchen, cleaning up the takeout boxes and realized how he fits so perfectly in your home, in your life...in your heart.

You walked over to him, heart thumping in your ears. He jumped slightly as your wrapped your arms around his waist, your face on his back.

“Y/n? what are you doing?”

You said muffled something that he couldn’t quite catch.

“what? you’re gonna have to speak louder.” He tries to turn around, but you grabbed onto the hem of his tshirt, stopping him.

“Don’t turn around, I don’t think I can say it if you’re looking at me.”

Akaashi’s heart was pounding as he anticipated your next words.

“I...I think I like you Keiji.”

He whirls around, “you think?”

You look down embarrassed, “I mean, I like you Keiji.”

He lifts you up by the chin, so he could look into your eyes.

“you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

He leans in and kisses you with so much passion and love, you realized he must have been in love with you after all this time. So you kiss him back, head and heart finally devoid of Kuroo Tetsurou.

A few weeks have passed since his disastrous encounter with you. Kuroo lies in bed and glares up at the ceiling.

“Get up!”

“what do you want Kenma?”

Kenma pushes open the door, “it’s been two whole months and I'm sick of you destroying your life. It’s literally been clubs this entire time and strangers walking in and out of my house every morning. Also your room reeks of alcohol. If you keep this up, I’ll kick you out for reals.”

Kuroo knew Kenma was right, “I just...I just can’t find the motivation to live without Y/n.”

“Shut up already. After your second screw-up, I don’t even feel sympathy for you anymore. Get up. We’re going to lunch, you’re buying.”

Kuroo pushes himself off the bed. His phone buzzes, a unknown number flashes across his screen.

“aren’t you going to pick that up?”

“nah”.

Halfway across town, Akaashi unwraps himself from you.

“Keij, five more minutes!”

“darling, you said that ten minutes ago.”

You smiled, “I'm just tired, can’t we nap for bit longer please?”

Akaashi rolls his eyes at you playfully, “normally I’d say yes, but we actually have a reservation for lunch today. We’re meeting Bokuto and his girlfriend, remember?”

“oh yeah. It’ll be nice to see them again.”

Akaashi pulls you out of bed, kissing you on the forehead before getting ready himself.

Bokuto’s loud “hey hey hey” could be heard miles away. You and Akaashi laughs as Bokuto’s girlfriend reminds him to be quieter.

As the four of you walk into the restaurant, you come face to face with a familiar figure.

Out of all the places, you just had to run into Kuroo here.

Kuroo looks at you in shock, glancing back and forth between you and Akaashi, at his arms wrapped around your waist and the way you instinctively shifted closer to him when you saw Kuroo.

Kenma was the one to break the awkward silence, “Hey Y/n! Good to see you. How’ve you been?”

You smiled at Kenma, grateful for his presence, “Hey Kenma! It’s been a while. I’ve been good. How are you? How’s the company?”

Kuroo uses this chance to take a good look at you. Your hair have grown out longer now, curled beautifully. He notices the way your eyes shine brighter, Akaashi must’ve been treating you right. His eyes meets Akaashi’s, before clearing his throat and turning away.

“Anyhow, we’ve got to get to lunch now. I’ll see you around Kenma.”

You and Akaashi walk towards your table, not even bothering to spare Kuroo a glance.

Kuroo trails behind Kenma out of the restaurant, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“Hey Kenma, I’m just gonna take this call real quick.”

Pulling out his phone, Kuroo sees the unknown number from this morning.

“Hello?”

“Hey Kuroo. It’s me, Aika. Do you have time right now? I need to tell you something.”

Kuroo searches his brain for an Aika, annoyed that he had given a one-night stand his number. “Sorry but I'm a little busy right now. Can’t you say this over the phone?”

He hears shuffling behind her, “okay um...”

Kuroo catches Kenma’s eyes, a look of panic in them.

“what did you say?”

“I’m pregnant.”

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#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x you #akaashi x female reader #akaashi fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #hqradiostation #ceci.writes #ceci.series

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It... Till You Make It | Epilogue/Prologue

Fake It | The Masterlist

Warnings | 3.1k // 18+ SMUT , mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff 

Summary //  Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // This is the epilogue of Fake It and the Prologue to Till You make it. This should hopefully set up the story of Till You Make It perfectly; tying the two series together. If you haven’t yet read Fake It, the masterlist for the series is linked above for ease <333 Thank you to everyone who has supported this little adventure of mine <3

It had been two weeks since you'd left the house. Now living permanently with George in the house you were yet to fill with all the things that made it you. Lying in bed as your thoughts raced, taking you back to that pain over and over every time you shut your eyes. George had been perfect, he was there for you every night as you curled into his side, trying to push back all of the negative feelings as you sobbed into his chest. 

Every time George looked at you, guilt washed over him. It wasn't just once but twice now that he was not there to protect you when you needed him the most, his childhood promise to you falling just short of the mark because he let you down. Part of him felt like a failure until he remembered that he was the one who helped you heal the first time and he would be the one to make you feel like yourself again this time. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I promised to and I let you down again." 

"What do you think you're doing now, Silly? You protect me every day."

It killed George to see you as the shell of who you once were, seeing that vulnerable, glazed over gaze into nothingness once again. He knew that your healing would take time and that all you needed from him was his presence, his hold and his kisses. He didn't dare push you or bring anything up that was too much to handle - he simply cared for you as best he could. George however, did a fantastic job at juggling his time, between looking after you and taking full control of the shop while Fred healed too, he began to grow stressed. It was something you noticed in the way his back muscles tensed and in the way he walked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

You pulled yourself from bed, knowing that he was due home soon, taking your initiative for the first time since the incident, to do something nice for him. You walked into your bathroom, putting the plug in the bathtub before beginning to fill it. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, seeing sunken eyes, dishevelled hair and a broken smile staring back at you - How could George continue to love you when you looked like this? Tears threatened to fall as your eyes welled up, you tried your best to hold them back but now you were choking back sobs as you stared at your reflection. 

When George arrived home all he heard were cracking sobs and the sound of running water, he noticed you weren't in the bed and ran into the bathroom to see you hunched over the counter as you cried. He turned the tap off for you before standing behind you. 

"Hey, hey… No tears, Princess, I'm here now." George had pulled you into his arms, your head buried in his chest as you continued to sob, your arms weakly hanging around his hips as you felt your heart squeeze again. 

"I don't know how you could still love me when I look like this." You were looking up at him now, his eyes were warm and comforting as his hand ran up and down your back to soothe you. His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead to comfort you as he spoke. 

"Jesus, Y/N, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, you are my slice of heaven on earth and I'll love you every single day of my life." His hand reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear before leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. His kiss leaving you breathless. This was the first time that your kiss had been more than just a peck goodbye in what feels like forever. Being Intimate with George was a feeling that you both craved and missed but it wasn't something he wanted to push you into doing, not until you were ready to let him back in. 

You had convinced George that you were ready to head back out into the world. It was a foreign feeling for the both of you as you walked hand in hand through Diagon Alley. You were proud to be holding on to him, finally able to tell everyone that you were his girl. The press had caught sight of you as you arrived together at the Joke shop, snapping away as you noticed that a new shop was opening on the street as people helped cart in huge boxes and beautiful ornate decorative items into the empty space. George caught your gaze and filled you in on the latest gossip among shop owners. 

"It's a new dress Boutique, she's moved back down to London - Lee's friend… I can't remember her name but she was the Hufflepuff Prefect in our year, you know who I mean?" You nodded, looking over your shoulder to see the girl in question her hair pulled back by a piece of ribbon and you immediately remembered her. 

"That shop has been vacant for ages, It'll be nice seeing a new business here." You responded, with a smile spreading across your lips, stopping the boy before he went to open the door, pulling him in for a kiss. The report on Cherry's death and the inquest into her fixation on ruining your life had hit the Daily Prophet the week prior - leaving you free to explore the more public aspects of your relationship with George. With there now being no worry about being caught or recognised, all you wanted to do was kiss your boyfriend out in the open, so you did. 

You slowly got back into Quidditch, attending more practices and eventually friendly games. The papers, the fans and your team were all grateful to have you back, and frankly you were glad to be back. You used quidditch as a way of channelling your aggression and anger; you were at your peak performance and had absolutely smashed the record for the fastest snitch capture in history. 

You had just sort of felt like maybe life was getting back to normal and you started visiting George's family home more often. You were sat in the burrow's kitchen with Molly, talking about the stupid things your boyfriend does, and as you found out, in fact has been doing since his childhood, as if his ears were hot, he came running in, smirk plastered on his face. 

"Fancy joining us for a quidditch game?" You smiled at your boyfriend who was leaning with both hands on the table next to you. You reached up to place your hand on his jaw, thumb running over the apple of his cheek. 

"Come on then, I want to be your team though Georgie." Your boyfriend blushed at your words and actions combined, even though you had been together for so long, the public aspect of being so openly affectionate with each other felt like new, bringing a whole new honeymoon period into your relationship once more. 

The teams were simple. You, George and Fred on one team and Harry, Ginny and Ron on the other while Hermione and Lee watched on from the side-lines. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present; the golden snitch." George beams, holding it up for all to see. 

"We only have teams of three, George, having a Seeker won't work." Ron chimed, only to receive a glare and elbow to the ribs from Ginny who nodded towards the snitch. 

"Y/N and Gin are the seekers for today, no beaters just chasers and keepers." You smiled up at your boyfriend, who sent you a wink. Being able to catch the snitch should be a walk in the park for you, even after your months away from the game. The six person game was intense, Ginny did put up a fight for the snitch and you weren't even keeping track of the score. The moment your fingertips wrapped around the flitting snitch, you were flying back to the ground, Cheering as George joined you, picking you up and spinning around. 

You hadn't even noticed the mechanical openings of the snitch until you looked back down at it in your hands. You noticed that inside lay a beautiful princess cut diamond ring, when you pulled it from the hold turning around to question George, he was already on one knee. You felt all of the butterflies in your stomach threaten to spill out, the feeling of being surrounded by your closest friends in that moment filled you with joy.

"Y/N, without you I wouldn't be half the man I am today. You have taught me to be strong, to push through when times are tough and more importantly you taught me how love feels - how it's scary and messy but pure. I've never known that I've wanted to do something so quickly as knowing that I wanted to marry you. This is my promise of forever to you, no matter what. So my love, will you marry me?"

You were nodding before the words ‘yes’ could leave your lips, his hands found the ring to slip it on your left ring finger, before smiling up at you. This was the most romantic way George could have proposed, doing something you love and in front of your closest friends and family. The way he kissed you after that was so full of passion and pure unmovable love that you weren't sure how you got so lucky. 

When you arrived home that evening you truly felt the ache between your thighs for the man you would soon be calling your Husband. You practically jumped into his arms the minute you were in your shared home, legs wrapped around his hips and lips pressed firmly against his as your hands tangled into his hair. The fire of nearly seven years of love was roaring wild inside of you, the high of the engagement making you more confident than ever before. 

"I'm ready, George." The simple words made any of his inhibitions melt away. He swore blind to you that he wouldn't even push intimacy until you were truly ready again. He was a gentleman about it, not even faltering when you pushed him away some months ago; too soon for you. He always made sure that when he kissed you that he didn't get carried away and kept it within himself to check and make sure you were comfortable. 

It wasn't long until you were pressed between your comfortable sheets and your Fiancé's strong body. His hair hanging in his eyes, prompting you to run your fingers through his soft locks and push it out of his face before pulling him in for another kiss, mumbling small soft breaths of 'i love you' every time your lips parted. George took his time in undressing you, making sure that he kissed every inch of exposed skin as he explored the body he knew all too well. This was far from the sex with George that you had grown accustomed to; desperate and fast in fear of getting caught, but now with nobody to catch you or disturb you, you already felt in heaven. 

George's lips travelled down your body, fingers tugging down your underwear in the process until his lips met where you craved them most. The second his tongue was lapping at your clit, pleasure rushed all through you, hand immediately finding his hair once again, only this time you gave it a tug. The way he hummed against your cunt as his tongue darted in and out of you had you on the edge of your release in minutes. His words of encouragement pushed you over, coming undone with just his tongue. 

"That's it, good girl, I've got you." His fingers found your clit, circling over the sensitive bud as you came for him, your eyes were locked together as you reached to pull his shirt over his head, showing you his toned chest with a smirk. You were going to sit up and pull him free, but his hand on your shoulder held you to the bed. 

"I won't break, George, I can touch you without breaking." He nodded, pulling himself down to kiss you again, your hands found his cock quickly, pulling him from the confines of his joggers without enough time for him to protest, your hand wrapping around his length as you used your hands to get him off. You pushed him up and off the bed so that he was standing before sinking to your knees before him. You took as much of him as you could, even down your throat as you gagged for him, knowing it's a sound that sets off something inside him. He was restraining himself from fucking your mouth like he loved to do and despite your eyes begging him to, he pulled himself away, pulling you up by the chin to press your lips together. 

Being completely naked together with George didn’t happen often, but now as your two naked bodies were pressed skin to skin with each other, you had never felt more intimate. He had sheathed himself fully inside you, the tip of his cock pressed right to the back of you, each slow thrust had you moaning out long chants of his name. Your hands were interlaced and foreheads pressed together as he showed you just how much you meant to him; love pouring from every deep thrust as he fucked you slowly into the sheets. You didn't think he could get any deeper until you felt him in your stomach, reaching every intimate area. 

"Can you feel how deep I am, Princess? Does it feel good?" you were nodding quickly, a moaning mess beneath him. The only words you managed to stutter out were his name and please, begging for more of him. You loved hearing him moan, hell, it was such a godly sound you were sure that you were the luckiest girl in the world to be able to hear them. 

His hips hit a different angle, stretching you out perfectly as he filled you to the hilt once again, completely bottomed out as your thrust met each others. You weren't sure how many times he'd made you cum but you were ready to release for him all over again. Your lips found his ear, pressing delicate kisses to the lobe as you begged him, moaning breathlessly into his ear. 

"Please George, I need it." Your hands were guiding his to press against your throat, he gulped, unsure if you were ready but when he met your pleading eyes, he gave in, his deep sloppy thrusts turned to a quick, needy fuck like you were both used to. Leaving you a moaning mess for him as he fucked you senseless into your sheets, until you were squeezing around him and your nails were raking down his back. George would give you everything you wanted if you gave him the opportunity. You felt another orgasm build from the way his hand alone would control your breathing, let alone how deep he was hitting with every quick thrust. 

"You want me to fuck a baby into you, Princess?" his gentle words sent you over the edge as you felt him twitching inside of you. He didn't care that you were on birth control, it was the notion of releasing his load deep inside you alone that made his heart swell. His persuasive words had you begging for it, you needed him to cum. 

You were both breathing heavily as you lay side by side, your head on his chest as you studied the rise and fall, tracing circles on the exposed skin when you noticed the shiny diamond gleaming on your finger; a smile immediately finding your lips. Solace found you in that moment, there was no more hiding the love that you had with George, no more faking a love you didn’t feel with Fred, no Cherry - finally happy in a moment shared between you and the man you loved. Your Forever. 

Fred through all this time had been watching George plan the proposal from the background, painting a fake smile across his face for every social appearance. The older twin did a brilliant job at convincing everyone around him that he was fine, simply shaken up by the trial, but nevertheless fine. Every day he would wake up with salty tears dried to his cheeks, his throat dry and hoarse, trying his best to smile and get on with his day. Fred has been consumed to a shell of who he used to be, with nobody to help him deal with his emotions.

Every now and again he’d show up at the burrow, his mother taking him into her arms as he choked down tears. He felt like a child that couldn’t be consoled, not even a hug or the greatest food could fill the hole in his heart he felt watching the woman he loved be proposed to by his twin brother; to see you so infatuated with one another that every touch and look he would observe tugged at his heart strings, the pain only becoming less and less severe as he dove into a pit of his own despair.

Nobody had seen the older twin in weeks; therapy sessions missed, calls and messages went nowhere, George would come up to check on him every day after the store closed, he noticed things would go untouched for days on end as he locked himself in his room. Behind the door Fred would be curled up under the covers, realising what he’d done couldn’t ever leave him. He had killed Cherry and she was no longer here, so why did she still continue to plague his every thought?

“Freddie nobody has seen you since we went to mum’s, I- we’re worried.” George was pleading with his brother from behind the door, he heard the hurt in his twin’s voice and immediately felt as if he had let his family down, that sinking feeling in his heart growing stronger. 

“It’s Mine and Y/N’s engagement party this weekend, you don’t have to come but… It’ll be good to see you Fred. I miss you, Lee misses you, Y/N misses you. We all do. Just think about it.” Fred heard his brother’s footsteps grow quieter and the front door slam shut. The word engagement singed his heart, like whatever cord was wrapped around the organ had been pulled tighter. He knew that If he didn’t go he would be missing a massive part of George’s life and that feeling hurt him way more than any broken heart could. He was going, even if it broke his heart. 

taglist //  @starlightweasley​​ @slytherinsunrise​​ @gcdric​​ @theweasleysredhair​​ @whiz-bangs78​​ @pansydaisy​​ @vogueweasley​​ @minty-malfoy​​ @vivianweasley​ @feetoffthetablee​​ @thisismynerdyself​​ @rip-us​​ @witch-and-a-half​​ @sarcasticallywitty15​​ @pandaxnienke​​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​​ @pigwidgexn​​ @mackaywhore​​ @softlyqoos​​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​​ @fandomscombine​​ @satellitespidey​ @txtdreamss​​ @aaannabbanana​​​  @starkidpotty​​ @mollydarling-hphm​​ @amwithers2001​​ @mrmoonyy​​​ @asthmax​

#Fake It Fic #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley #gred and forge #fred and george #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #ginger hair

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #34

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: The penultimate chapter everyone, can you believe it? How far we’ve come together. Just as a little heads up, I will be uploading the last chapter of this story (🥺) in one go with the epilogue. So if you happen to see the epilogue first, know there is a ‘little’ (totally not little) chapter still waiting for you.

Thank you to everyone who let me borrow their OCs, I did a little round up of everyone in this chapter. Lizzie’s wonderful friends are belonging to:

Katriona ,KC’ Cassiopeia: @kc-needs-coffee

Judith Harris: @judediangelo75

Ira Janda, Julian Bennett: @slytherindisaster

Azariah Steele: @cursebreakerfarrier

Henry McClarnon: @thatravenpuffwitch

Also massive thanks to my favourite girl @the-al-chemist for helping with the structure and reading over. You know I love you 💛

Word Count: ~ 5.600

_______________________________________

Chapter 34: Victory

“Hufflepuff is this year’s reigning Quidditch champion!”

Murphy hadn’t even finished shouting into his megaphone when Skye, Lizzie and everyone around them erupted into screams of joy. Skye flung her arms around Lizzie’s neck, hugging her mid-air, half sobbing, half shouting “We did it! We did it!” into her ear over and over again. Lizzie didn’t even have any words to articulate the rush of emotions running through her all at once. She felt euphoric, happy, exhausted and unbelievably relieved that her plan hadn’t backfired on them. Syke was right, they had really done it.

They had won the House Cup.

Still hugging and jumping up and down on their brooms, Lizzie and Skye were slowly drifting downwards, landing roughly on the soft grass. The impact almost knocked them over but they couldn’t care less. They were basking in the cheers coming from the hollering stands, their grins so wide their cheeks were hurting.

Lizzie could see Skye’s father and Professor Sprout giving them standing ovations and even Professor McGonagall was clapping, albeit not as enthusiastically as the rest. Murphy was beaming from ear to ear, remaining silent for once and letting the team have the full attention of the crowd.

One after the other their teammates were landing next to them. Lizzie found herself hugging Judith and even Everett in her enthusiasm; all of their animosities were forgotten over the raw joy of achieving their incredible last minute win. In this moment what had happened wasn’t important anymore; the only thing that counted was that they had reached their common goal and the Cup was theirs.

And then, all of a sudden, Orion was there, his eyes shining with pride and a beaming smile on his face. He swept her into an embrace and spun her around, neither one of them caring the slightest bit what anyone else might be thinking. Lizzie was laughing as she held onto him, feeling nothing but elation; she couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.

Orion sat her down and Lizzie was swaying for a moment, feeling slightly dizzy from being spun around, too much sunlight and the feeling of Orion’s arms around her. Still smiling, he raised his hand to her face and cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her flushed skin. The expression in his eyes was so soft as they found hers, the butterflies exploding in Lizzie’s stomach seemed to fill her up completely; the fluttery feeling combined with the adrenaline rushing through her body made her feel as if she was still flying.

He opened his mouth to say something when a sudden movement to their side made both of them turn their heads; Judith and Skye had sneaked up on them and were on the verge of upending a giant barrel of butterbeer over their heads. Lizzie tried to move out of its way immediately, but Orion quickly got hold of her wrist and pulled her back.

“You’re staying right where you are,” he laughed before the ice cold liquid was hitting them. Lizzie shrieked and closed her eyes as the butterbeer washed over her face and found its way down the back of her jersey. She buried her face against Orion’s now soaked Quidditch robes and could feel the vibration in his chest as he laughed. She couldn’t help her smile widening as he held her even closer.

“I knew you could do it, Chaser,” he whispered against her hair.

Lizzie pulled away and smiled up at him; a light giggle escaped her as she was taking in their drenched state. “We did it all together.”

Orion gently brushed a strand of wet hair out of her face. “As a team.”

She covered his hand resting on her cheek with hers, her eyes finding his again. His long, dark hair was just as soaked as hers was, but he obviously couldn’t care less. Lizzie’s eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment; the soft smirk forming on them made her hold her breath. Her wish to kiss him right here and now was close to overwhelming.

But before she could give in to it, her gaze flicked over Orion’s shoulder to where she could see the members of the defeated Gryffindor team lying in the grass. The misery they were radiating was a stark contrast to their own overjoyed celebration.

She could see Julian comforting a broken looking Henry; Azariah was lying on his back, staring into the sky with a blank expression and the two Chasers were silently talking between themselves, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Charlie was sitting apart from them; his head was hanging low, his windswept red hair obscuring most of his face. The rest was hidden his hand covering his eyes, while the other was still clutching the Golden Snitch, that was gleaming in the sunlight.

The sight of her friend's devastation felt like a jab to Lizzie’s heart. Her face twisting with sympathy, she placed a hand on Orion’s chest and gently pushed him away. He followed her gaze with a slight frown, before he nodded in comprehension.

He inclined his head in Charlie’s direction. “Go to him; he is in need of a friend right now.”

Lizzie knew she should go and it wasn’t like she didn’t want to; she just didn’t want to let go of Orion again so soon. Sensing her hesitation, he gently nudged her forward.

“Go,” he repeated. “We’ll have our moment later.”

Finally breaking free of him, Lizzie walked past her teammates and towards the Gryffindors. She stopped by every one of them for a moment, either trying to cheer them up or offer some words of comfort. When she reached the lone figure of her best friend, she stopped and knelt down beside him.

“Hey.”

At the sound of her voice, Charlie raised his bleak eyes to look at her for a moment. “Congratulations, I guess,” he managed to croak out before hanging his head again.

“Thank you,” Lizzie answered sincerely. She put a hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently. “You put up an incredible fight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

Charlie shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t help much, did it? You won, we lost; there’s no way of talking around it.”

“It could have gone down either way; it was a matter of seconds.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I can’t believe I caught the Snitch only one bloody moment too late.” He choked out a bitter laugh and held the golden ball up for her to see.

“Looks like it’s me who gets the consolation prize in the end.”

He looked past her to her laughing teammates. “What are you doing over here anyway, champ? Don’t tell me you’re ditching your team for us moping lot?”

Lizzie sat down next to him onto the grass and nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m ditching my team for a friend who could use a bit of comfort right now,” she responded with a smile.

Charlie’s eyes trailed from her towards the Hufflepuffs again, who were busy hoisting a laughing Orion up on their shoulders.

“Even him?”

She had followed his gaze and nodded. “Even him.”

Charlie huffed but gave her a small grin, nonetheless. “That means a lot, Liz, thank you. But you deserved to win this time; you more than anyone.”

Lost in thought, Lizzie had been watching Orion celebrating with their friends. It was only now that she saw Charlie had been watching her in turn. Not sure if he was still talking about the match, Lizzie blushed a deep scarlet that almost matched Charlie’s robes; her flustered state made him grin mischievously.

“You’d better watch out though, pineapple,” he teased her, “there’s always next season. I’ll be damned if I let you defend that title; we’ll make sure the Cup gets back to where it belongs.”

Happy to see Charlie’s fighting spirit return, Lizzie dipped her head back and laughed. “Not if I can help it, Weasley!”

She scrambled to her feet and offered Charlie her hand. “Do I see you at the party later?”

It was a tradition to celebrate the closing of the Quidditch season with a big outdoor event down by the Black Lake. Generally considered one of the highlights of the years, it wasn’t only for the members of the winning House but for everyone in the school. As it was the last chance to have a bit of fun before the stress of their exams would take up all of their focus, most of the students had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Charlie, however, didn’t seem too thrilled at the prospect. He looked Lizzie up and down with a sigh.

“Would you accept a ‘no’ for an answer?”

“No,” Lizzie chuckled.

“Then I don’t think I have a choice, really,” Charlie smirked before wrapping his arm around her shoulder to march her back to her team. “I’ve got to celebrate my favourite badger girl, after all.”

*

Lizzie was probably one of the last ones left in the castle when she was finally able to make her way down to the lake. The sunlight had turned from bright to golden and was painting the landscape around her in an alternating pattern of light and shadow.

After the potion Ira had given her had worn off, the bone crushing hug from a sobbing Penny had made the pain of her injury flare up again with full force. When her knees had buckled from the sharp sting, Orion and Ira had been adamant she’d go to the Hospital Wing at once; her ribs had hurt too badly for Lizzie to even consider objecting.

Madam Pomfrey had been miffed when she had checked her up, muttering something about “This bloody Quidditch business” under her breath. To Lizzie’s relief, Ira’s initial assessment had been right and her ribs weren’t broken after all.

“I’d much rather you’d have come straight to me, Miss Jameson,” Madam Pomfrey had declared sternly. “Teenagers,” she had sighed,” always think they know better.”

She had been watching Lizzie reproachfully while preparing the ingredients for another painkiller potion, which was supposed to get her through the night.

Before she had left, Lizzie had made sure to check up on Brian; as it turned out, he wasn’t allowed to leave the Hospital Wing due to a mild concussion. He was miserable about not being able to celebrate with the rest of them, but otherwise he seemed to be alright.

“Kiss the Cup for me, will you?” he had asked her with a laugh as she had been about to leave.

Lizzie’s answer had been cut short by the scolding look of Madam Pomfrey, who had appeared by Brian’s bedside. “I thought there was an event you were desperate to attend, Miss Jameson,” she had chided her, albeit with the hint of a smile. “If you don’t want to spend the night here alongside your friend, you had better leave now before I change my mind.”

As she was walking along the path that would lead her to the Black Lake, Lizzie was enjoying having a little time on her own. It was a welcome change to the busy moments after the match, when her housemates had flooded the pitch and congratulations had been passed all around. It gave her the opportunity to let everything sink in.

They had won; they had really, actually done it.

Her team had come out on top; even after all the mess that had been going down this year, they had managed to get a grip and pull each other through. Lizzie felt overwhelmingly happy; never before had she been so proud of her team, of Skye, of Orion, even of herself.

She remembered the feeling of weightlessness when Orion had picked her up and spun her around; neither of them had cared about anyone else in that moment and it had felt so right; today, everything was feeling right.

Lizzie smiled to herself as she reached the shoreline, an unmistakable bounce in her steps. Whatever the evening might be bringing, she was looking forward to it; she had earned the right to just enjoy herself for a change.

When Lizzie heard two voices calling her name, she slowed her steps and turned around. It was Andre and Charlie, undoubtedly headed into the same direction as her. Tapping her foot in mock impatience, she waited for them to catch up.

Andre smiled brightly when they reached her. “Look who it is, Charlie.”

“The reigning Quidditch champion,” Charlie continued, now in a decidedly better mood after he’d had time to stomach the match. “May we escort you to your victory party?”

Both boys went up to either side of Lizzie and linked arms with her as they marched her along. She had to giggle at their overly solemn expressions.

“You may,” she laughed. “But why are you so late?”

Charlie rolled his eyes and jerked his head in Andre’s direction. “Someone needed to get dressed properly.”

It was only now that Lizzie noticed the giant badger on Andre’s blue shirt he was wearing under his jacket. She raised her eyebrows in astonishment and chuckled.

“That’s a really nice gesture, Andre, but that’s not quite the right colour.”

Andre merely shrugged, however. “I’ve got to uphold some housepride at least or else Erika might kill me.” He glanced down at his newest design. “That one’s risky enough as it is.”

*

As expected, the party was already in full swing when they arrived. Several stalls had been set up at the shore of the Black Lake and the houselves had given it their all to provide them with delicious food and drinks. They were all centred around a giant bonfire that was blazing brightly in the slowly descending darkness of the evening.

The stalls were decorated in yellow and black banners, as were the comfortable looking seats that had been grouped together all over the place. The image of the Hufflepuff badger was a common sight wherever Lizzie was looking. To add to the atmosphere, numerous strings of fairy lights had been put up in between the branches and down the stems of the trees.

The place was packed with laughing and chatting students; Charlie and Andre went to get something to drink and Lizzie found herself wandering around the site, looking for any sign of her friends.

She spotted the familiar strawberry blond head of KC over to the side of the bonfire. She was sitting in one of the cushioned garden chairs with a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. Her head was dipped back in laughter at something Rath had just said; knowing the tall blonde girl, it had undoubtedly been some wry remark about the course of the game.

Where KC was Murphy was never far and sure enough, he was lounging in the chair next to her. He was gesturing wildly towards the two girls with sparkling eyes, confirming Lizzie’s suspicion that they were indeed still talking about the match.

Sitting next to Murphy, Orion was attentively listening to the ongoing discussion. He was looking as deeply relaxed as Lizzie had ever seen him. As if sensing someone’s attention being on him, he turned his head. As their eyes met, a smile tugged at his lips and he motioned for her to join them with the smallest movement of his head. The shift of Orion’s focus didn’t escape KC; she nudged him with her foot before bending over to him and whispering something into his ear, making Orion laugh and shake his head.

Lizzie felt a smile forming on her face. There was nothing she would have liked more than heading over to her friends right now. For the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts last September, she felt completely certain of what she wanted; it was as if reaching their shared goal today had cleared her mind of all the doubts that she had been carrying with her.

But there was one thing she had to do first. Although it was incredibly hard to do, she turned her back on her friends and scanned the crowd for a different face.

After a moment, Lizzie spotted who she had been looking for; through a gap in between several groups of people, Lizzie could make out the familiar figure of Rowan. She was on her own and - just like Lizzie herself - she seemed to be searching the crowd as well. When their eyes met, they started walking towards each other.

“I’ve been looking for you!” both girls exclaimed simultaneously when they had reached each other, before they burst into laughter; it felt easy and carefree, almost like it used to be.

“Congratulations on winning the House Cup; you were amazing!” To Lizzie’s surprise, Rowan hugged her tightly. “Penny, Tonks and I were almost dying watching you play; what a match!”

A touch of worry flickered over her face as her eyes dropped to Lizzie’s ribcage, where the Bludger had hit her. “How are your ribs? Ira told us they’re bruised pretty badly.”

“She’s right, but nothing’s broken or anything,” Lizzie shrugged. “Madam Pomfrey gave me another painkiller potion for tonight, but it will probably hurt like hell tomorrow.”

Lizzie didn’t want to talk about her injury right now. She thought about how the whole school must have seen Orion embrace her after the match; Rowan must have done so, too. Lizzie was sick and tired of this ridiculous fight with her; she wanted to sort things out with her friend once and for all.

She took a deep breath. “Listen, Ro, we need to talk.”

Much to her surprise, Rowan responded immediately. “Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve been looking for you; I wanted to apologise.”

Lizzie had already opened her mouth to reply when her brain registered Rowan’s unexpected words. Not knowing what to say, she blinked in confusion.

“You want what now?”

Rowan’s gaze dropped to the ground and she rubbed her arm uncomfortably. “When that Bludger hit you and you were hanging from that banner, I was so scared for you,” she muttered quietly, her eyes still trained on the tips of her shoes. “I mean, we all were, of course; Penny even nearly cried. But Orion was there to help you immediately and even from the Hufflepuff stands you could see how afraid he was for you.”

Rowan raised her eyes to meet Lizzie’s. The different emotions shining in them were hard to pinpoint; it was a mixture of sadness, resignation and, strangely enough, something resembling relief.

“And seeing the two of you after the game was over…” Rowan’s voice trailed off and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s just so obvious how much he cares for you.”

Lizzie slowly breathed out, not quite daring to believe what she was hearing. “So you’re not mad?” she asked tentatively. “I promised you to stay away from him after all.”

Rowan sighed. “Yes, and you did. I’ll be honest with you, I really thought if we could just pretend like none of this had happened, it would make me feel better; and maybe even make the two of us better again, too. I was so hurt and angry at you; you are such an admirable person, Lizzie, so many girls want to be just like you,” Rowan sniffed and her voice broke slightly, “I just didn’t want you to have him on top of it.”

Lizzie felt her own voice becoming breathy. “You don’t have to be like anyone else, Ro; you’re perfect just the way you are.”

But Rowan shook her head and pressed her lips together. “No, I’m not. I deliberately hurt you to feel better about myself. But it didn’t work, I only felt bad for asking something horrible like this from you and making all of us unhappy in the process.”

Her shoulders slumped as she hung her head. “I acted like the worst friend imaginable, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Lizzie asked incredulously. “If anyone should apologise, it’s me. I never should have risked our friendship like I did, I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” She laid her hand on Rowan’s arm and smiled when she lifted her head again. “Believe me, Rowan, no matter what you think, you’re always important to me.”

She hesitated to go on and gathered her courage before she continued. “But Orion is, too,” she said timidly. “It’s not for show or about wanting to be with someone I’m not supposed to be with. I really care about him.”

“I know,” Rowan sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose, “I guess I was more intrigued by the idea I had of him than by him himself.”

An encouraging smile formed on Rowan’s face. “But you, Lizzie, you know him, the real him. Not the Quidditch captain or the guy who loves broom balancing and nebulous answers, just him. And believe me, you matter to Orion as well, anyone can see that; you two belong together.”

Not knowing what to say, Lizzie took a step forward and threw her arms around her best friend’s neck. “Thank you.”

She was more than relieved when Rowan returned the hug. “What for,” she laughed before letting go again. She placed her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders, turned her around and pushed her forward.

“Now go and find him before I change my mind.” Rowan’s eyes swept over the crowd and a concerned frown appeared over the top of her glasses. “I need to check on Tulip and Tonks, they were talking about tinkering with some firecrackers earlier.”

She adjusted the Prefect badge on her jumper, gave Lizzie another smile and quickly vanished in the crowd. Lizzie watched after her for a second before she turned around as well.

Just as she started walking towards where Orion was still sitting with their friends, Penny jumped on her out of nowhere grabbing her arm.

“There you are!” she squealed. “Where in Godric’s name have you been?”

Lizzie wanted to reply but didn’t get a chance before Penny forcefully dragged her towards a big group of people standing close to the central bonfire. She was constantly babbling with excitement. “He is here, Lizzie, can you believe it! Ethan Parkin is here. At our victory party! This is incredible, he is incredible, all of this is incredible!”

She tugged at Lizzie’s arm impatiently. “Come on now, he has been asking about you several times already!”

As they were approaching the huge crowd that had gathered near the blazing fire, Lizzie could make out Ethan and Skye standing at its centre. The House Cup was sitting next to them on the grass, its silver handles decorated with black and yellow ribbons. The giant trophy was coming up higher than Skye’s knees; when Madam Hooch and Professor Dumbledore had handed it over to Orion at the ceremony on the pitch, Lizzie had been able to see how he had momentarily struggled to lift it over his head; Lizzie and Skye had only managed to do the same when they had tried it together.

Now, Skye was glancing down at the Cup every now and again, still unable to believe she had finally achieved what she had dreamed of ever since. Her father, on the other hand, paid the glinting trophy no mind; his hand was resting on Skye’s shoulder, his face beaming with pride. He was talking animatedly to his awed onlookers; Lizzie could see Skye was blushing and trying not to roll her eyes. She sighed inwardly; Ethan Parkin was probably talking about his favourite subject: himself and his illustrious adventures with the Wigtown Wanderers.

But when Penny pushed them through the crowd towards the front, Lizzie was surprised to hear that Ethan Parkin wasn’t gushing about his family’s club after all; instead, he was recounting the course of their match in such painstaking details it could have put Murphy to shame. He took a special joy in painting all of Skye’s free throws, goals and special manoeuvres in the brightest colours to the adoring masses; her last move in particular had him bursting with pride.

“If you ask me, that Keeper stood no chance from the moment she got her hands on the Quaffle,” he was declaring just now. “It’s a special technique my Skye has, Parkin family secret, of course; just knew she wouldn’t fail her shot.”

He interrupted his monologue and his eyes lit up as they discovered Lizzie. He nudged Skye with his elbow.

“Look who’s here, Skye; seems like we finally found your missing mate. Wondered where you might be at, lassie.”

Lizzie motioned to her ribcage. “I had to go and get my ribs checked.”

“Aye, that one looked like it hurt. I know what a Bludger to the rips feels like, but let me tell you, a good player always pulls through, no matter what.”

He clapped a heavy hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Well done, lass, you did a fine job out there. You lot can learn from this one,” he proclaimed to his fans, still squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder. “Takes some strength of character to recognise when your teammate’s abilities are greater than your own; right decision of Lizzie to pass the Quaffle to Skye, it was the key to their victory.”

Like Skye before, Lizzie was trying not to roll her eyes. “If you say so, Mr. Parkin.”

“How often do I need to tell you, call me Ethan.”

Lizzie smiled noncommittally. “At least one more time, Mr. Parkin.”

He laughed jovially and turned to his fans again, recounting some other detail of their match; Lizzie wasn’t even listening anymore. Using her father’s distraction, Skye took her chance and pulled Lizzie away from the crowd for a moment.

Looking back over her shoulder, she rubbed her neck in embarrassment. “Sorry dad’s so enthusiastic. Don’t listen to him boasting about me, you were smashing today.”

“As were you,” Lizzie smiled.

A smug grin stole onto Skye’s face. “Yeah, we did quite a good job, didn’t we?” Seemingly out of nowhere her expression turned serious again. “But don’t you think I don’t know what you were doing.”

Out of nowhere Skye nudged Lizzie’s shoulder, maybe a bit more forceful than she had meant to.

“Ouch! What was that for!

Skye ignored Lizzie’s complaints. “You were at your favourite distance for that last goal; you always make that shot.” She set her index finger onto Lizzie’s chest to accentuate her words. “Don’t you ever dare to risk a win like that again, you hear me, Jameson?”

Before Lizzie could say anything in her defence, Skye had hugged her tightly. “But thank you anyway.”

Lizzie grinned when Skye abruptly let go of her only seconds later. “What’s that now, Parkin? Are you going soft on me or what?”

Skye huffed and laughed out loud. “You wish, Jameson!”

With a last genuine smile at her friend, Skye returned to her father’s side. Lizzie couldn’t help but smile to herself taking in the scene. Despite all the pressure he had put his daughter through, knowingly or not, Ethan was now looking down at Skye with overwhelming pride; Lizzie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen Skye being happier than in this exact moment.

She stayed with the Parkins for a little while longer until Lizzie felt it wouldn’t be impolite to leave anymore. She was tired of Ethan’s constant droning, even if it was about Quidditch.

Lizzie was impatient to finally get her chance to talk to Orion now, but when she turned to the place her friends had been occupying earlier, she found it deserted; none of them was anywhere to be seen.

Not really knowing what to do, Lizzie started aimlessly strolling around the party, hopping from group to group, chatting with all sorts of people here and there.

So many happy faces were smiling at her as she moved through the crowd, congratulating her and clapping her on the back. Even her Gryffindor friends were seemingly enjoying themselves in this cheerful environment.

Lizzie could see Azariah laughing with Charlie and Andre, his arm draped around Ira’s shoulder; the curly haired Hufflepuff had her head resting against him and smiled from time to time. A bit further on, Julian and Henry were joking with each other, both raising their butterbeers in her direction when they saw her walking by. Sitting a little more secluded from the rest of the crowd, Lizzie could even spot Judith and her boyfriend Talbott; she was surprised to see the evasive Ravenclaw boy make an appearance at such a busy place, but then again, judging by the adoring looks he gave his girlfriend, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Judith.

Upon seeing all of her friends so relaxed and happy, a warm and fuzzy feeling was spreading inside Lizzie’s chest. As she leaned against a tree and took a sip of her butterbeer, however, she couldn’t help but feel a bit lost without having one of her own close friends to talk to.

Completely lost in her thoughts, the sudden sound of a familiar voice close to her ear almost made her jump out of her skin.

“Looking for someone, Chaser?”

Turning around, Lizzie found Orion standing behind her with a smirk on his face. Trying to ignore her wildly beating heart, Lizzie broke into a smirk of her own.

“What makes you think I’m looking for someone?”

“Aren’t we always looking for something or the other?” he responded casually, but the smile on his lips was mirrored in his eyes..

“I guess you’re right,” Lizzie mused, “but the someone I’ve been looking for is rather hard to catch tonight.”

Orion laughed quietly, the warm sound making Lizzie’s heart skip a beat. “I take it you’re drawing from your own rich pool of experience. You’ve been as elusive as a beam of sunlight this whole year; always visible, but impossible to get hold of.”

“Well, here I am.” She sighed in mock exasperation and rested her elbow on Orion’s shoulder. “But alas, the one I was looking for isn’t.”

Orion chuckled, clearly unimpressed by her teasing. Lizzie fought to not lose her composure as she felt his hand on her back, his touch giving her goosebumps all over.

“Is that so?” he whispered into her ear before drawing back again. “I fear you’ll have to make do with me.”

Lizzie tilted her head and grinned. “I think I can live with that.”

The atmosphere between them felt different; even when they had been nothing but friends, they had never spoken to each other in such a light, teasing manner before. However, this new dynamic felt completely natural. All the tension and strain that had hung between them for the better part of the year had vanished into thin air; Lizzie was loving every second of it.

Her breath hitched as she felt Orion adjust his hand on her back, his fingers grazing lightly over her spine.

“In fact,” he conceded, “Rowan mentioned you were looking for me.”

Surprised, Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “She did?”

Although Rowan had said she was alright with it, Lizzie was still glad to see that she had actually meant it. The thought of not having to lie to anyone anymore felt wonderful and strange at the same time.

“I’m as surprised as you are. I take it, the two of you were finally able to make peace?”

Lizzie sighed with relief. “Yes, neither one of us was what you’d call a perfect friend lately.”

Orion’s smile grew softer. “Perfection is a matter of perspective, isn’t it?”

Unable to think of a witty response, Lizzie’s cheeks blushed a deep scarlet and her eyes dropped to the ground. The atmosphere had shifted yet again, and she could feel the butterflies dancing in her stomach; she wasn’t entirely sure whether they were stemming more from nerves or excitement.

She was spared an answer, however, when a high, whistling sound suddenly cut through the air, directly followed by a mix of shrieks and laughter. The unmistakable cackling of Tonks and Tulip was clearly discernible above it; Lizzie recalled Rowan’s concern about seeing them meddling with some firecrackers.

Unimpressed by the commotion, Orion shot her a sideways glance. “What do you say, let’s leave the crowd to themselves and their fireworks for a bit?”

Lizzie tore her gaze away from the colourful sparks erupting over where the two troublemakers were undoubtedly working their magic and smiled at him.

“Sounds like a good plan, Captain.”

They left their spot under the tree and moved through the crowd that was flocking towards the commotion. Orion was walking in front of Lizzie, quickly gaining ground on her as the stream of people was thickening.

Breathing in deeply, Lizzie gathered her courage and lightly placed a hand on his arm before he was out of reach.

“Wait for me, will you?”

Orion looked back over his shoulder and waited for her to catch up with him. When she was closer, Lizzie let her hand travel down from where she had touched him to his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Her heart was beating frantically as she felt the slight pressure of his fingers against the back of her hand.

Neither of them saw the surprised looks they were attracting as they broke free from the crowd, nor the badly contained smiles of their friends as they passed them. And even if Lizzie had noticed, at this very moment, she couldn’t have cared less.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #rowan khanna #skye parkin #charlie weasley #lizzie jameson #aob #art of balance #the quidditch squad #penultimate chapter #can you believe it #I still can't believe it #get ready for the final one #I cried writing this chapter #surreal

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To Be Continued - Part 6

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_> 

In this chapter, the jealousy flare up is strong lol. 

Word count: 2307

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The warning bells you had been hoping to ring sounded around your home a second time, and you stepped down from the tips of your toes that you hadn’t realised you were standing upon and ducked under Brian’s arm, escaping the almost kiss to see who was here.

You guessed it was your mother, knowing her impromptu visits often occurred at night. Or Lily was back from visiting her family and wanted to check in on you as she usually did. However, nothing prepared you for who was standing there.

“Su-Sungjin.”

“My other rival has arrived,” you heard Brian mumble under his breath as he stopped beside you.

The police officer looked at you and then Brian, suddenly growing reserved. He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, Y/N. I should have called ahead of visiting you. I just was worried about you and wanted to check if you were okay. It seems like you are.”

“She is,” Brian confirmed, and you glanced at him hopelessly before shunting him in the stomach and opening your door further.

“Please, come inside.”

“Oh, I don’t wish to intrude when you have a guest here already,” Sungjin mentioned, though he stepped over the threshold far too easily, eying Brian carefully before smiling down at you. “Did you find out about the stalker?”

“Stalker is a bit of a far-fetched term, don’t you think, Constable?” Brian answered before you could, and you noticed the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You knew that Brian, when protective of someone, wasn’t afraid to use his hands if necessary. Jumping in front of him with a light laugh, you then smiled up at Sungjin to try and break their staring war.

Thankfully, it worked. “Have you had dinner at all, Sungjin? I was just about to order in something and can add on another serving for you?”

“I’m sure the busy police officer doesn’t have time to stay for dinner.”

“Interesting that we don’t even know each other and you’re answering for me,” Sungjin rebutted, glowering at the man behind you. “I’m guessing Y/N told you about me?”

“It’s a long story,” you mentioned, wondering just how many more times you’d have to use that line when it came to Brian’s existence. “Dinner?”

“Would love to,” Sungjin agreed.

It was awkward as you waited for the delivery to arrive, glancing between the two men glaring at one another and then at the door hoping for salvation. Whilst you were excited to see Sungjin again, you hadn’t really thought this through.

After all, before he turned up on your doorstep, you were fully committed to kissing the man who firmly placed himself at your side. Then again, you had already day-dreamed about kissing Sungjin multiple times before Brian had even stepped out of your computer.

Your heart and mind were a mess, as was this dinner suggestion. You were relieved when the pizza turned up, diving towards the front door with your purse in hand. Paying the driver a tip, you then returned with the meal, placing it down on the table and spreading it out. “Let’s eat!”

“So, let’s hear about this long story,” Sungjin asked midway through your second piece of pizza, in which you choked upon. Both men thrust their drink towards you, and you looked at their offerings before meekly reaching for your own.

“The story,” Brian repeated, and Sungjin glanced at him curiously. “I guess you want to know who I am.”

“He’s my cousin’s friend!” you blurted out, and Brian gaped at you instantly. “Brian is just staying here because his flat is infested with bugs. You don’t do bugs, right, Brian?”

“Cousin’s friend. Bugs. Uh-huh.” Looking over at Sungjin’s surprised expression, Brian sighed heavily. “That’s me. Brian, the cousin’s friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that,” Sungjin mentioned, a small relieved smile crossing his lips. “Hopefully it gets fixed soon.”

“Actually, I think it’s going to take a really long time. I might just end up moving in here permanently,” Brian commented with a strained smile, and you clamped your eyes shut with frustration before trying to smile politely at Sungjin.

The police officer smiled warmly back at you and began to eat again.

Thankfully, he didn’t stay too long, happy enough to see you were okay and when you confirmed you hadn’t heard from your strange intruder since Brian had arrived, it placated him enough to head for your front door.

“Dinner was lovely,” he mentioned, and you laughed.

“It was an awkward disaster.”

Sungjin nodded, chuckling softly. “Next time, I’ll take you out somewhere, if you like.”

“Re-really?”

“Only if you’re free too.”

“She’s going to be reallyyyy busy writing the next story in her trilogy, right, Miss Writer?” Brian added into the conversation, and your mood dampened again with his arrival at your side. Slinging an arm over your shoulder for effect – which worked – Brian smiled all too happily. “So busy that I wonder if she’ll even have time to eat. You know, when she’s stuck up in her worlds, she often forgets to even feed herself. Lucky I’m here, right?”

“I’ll call you!” you managed to tell Sungjin with a wave, before shutting the front door and spinning around to face the remaining man. “Wow! I never expected you to be like this!”

“Surely, you did! I mean, you created me!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And now I’m your cousin’s friend too?! You’re so good with stories, Miss Writer. Do you know what is real life and what isn’t?”

“You’re impossible when you’re jealous.”

“And you invited your hero in here when you had no need to! What are you going to do? Have a moment with him in the kitchen too? Tell him how he’s the only cop for you?!”

“Your bitterness is unfair!” you warned, stalking over to the table to clean up the takeout containers. Brian joined you, stacking the plates and cups you had used and took them over to the sink. You worked in harmony in clearing up the mess before you realised what you had both done. Stopping to watch as Brian vigorously scrubbed at a cup, you reached over for his hand and ceased his actions altogether.

“I panicked.”

“About what exactly? That the man you’ve been pining over since you met him just recently was on your doorstep or the guy you created in your stories was about to kiss you for the first time?”

So it was about to happen. Gulping back your emotions from his admission of the fact, you nodded. “Of both.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Y/N? You can’t play us both.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“I guess that hero of yours makes me the villain for turning up, huh?” he muttered before rinsing off the cup and placing it to the side of the sink, turning on his heel for your guest bedroom and shut the door with a bang.

The following morning, you were the first one up. Binks met you in the living room, winding himself around your legs and mewling for his breakfast. Smiling, you picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the kitchen. Settling him down by his food mat, you then picked up his bowl and filled it with fresh food before placing it back in front of him. You watched as he ate happily, relaxing into the simple nature of your usual routine.

Without Sungjin or Brian, life sure had been just that – simple.

Yet, you knew you wanted to fill the loneliness in your heart also. It had taken you some time to fall asleep last night, staring at the screen of your laptop at the words To Be Continued over and over. Wondering why Brian kept changing it to that instead of The End had plagued your thoughts all night long.

You had been hoping to meet him in the kitchen for breakfast and discuss it with him but you had gotten up before him. Waiting for over twenty minutes, and making as much noise as you could without being too rude, you finally walked down to the room and rapped your knuckles over the door. “Brian, can I come in?”

No answer.

Knocking a little louder this time, you repeated your question to receive, once more, silence in return. Unlatching the door, you stepped inside to find it empty of his presence.

It all hit you then like a tonne of bricks, and you went through your house from room to room in a blind panic, wondering where he had gone. Finding yourself in your office, you opened the lid to your laptop and hurried to turn it on, waiting to sign in to your account before dashing into your files for your latest story. Opening it, you bounced on the spot as your fears got heightened.

What if Brian had gone back into his world without even saying goodbye?!

You had definitely turned off the device last night before bed, but could he have turned it on and headed back into Captivated? Would he even remember you if he had?

After all the thoughts of insanity you had endured with his sudden arrival in your life, you were now equally despairing his departure. You hadn’t even kissed him yet! Let alone shared a day with him doing all the things you wanted to do. How could he just leave you like this –

“Y/N?”

Spinning around to find Brian behind you in exercise clothes and sweating from a morning run, you let go of your laptop and lurched towards him, wrapping your arms firmly around his waist. Whilst he immediately held your distraught body, he chuckled a little also. “I just went for a run. I don’t care what you say about me, even guys like me stink when we sweat.”

“You’re still here!”

“Of course, I am. Where did you think I was?” Brian asked, and when your sniffling turned to sobs, Brian attempted to pull you away from his body but you gripped on tighter. “You thought I had gone back into the story?”

“What else was I meant to think when you weren’t here, and there was no note?! Especially after last night-”

“That’s why I went for a run, to clear my head,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a note. I thought you would sleep in like usual.”

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, shaking your head, your tears spreading around the room and landing upon him in the process. “I shouldn’t be like this over you. I mean, I feel like I’ve known you forever yet you’ve only been here a couple of days and you’re right, I should be more clear with Sungjin, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

Your sentence was caught against his mouth, swift as it pressed upon yours, did it leave. Brian, evidently surprised at his attempt to stop your fevered rambling, cleared his throat before staring down at you for your reaction.

It only took you a second to think about it before you stretched up and coveted his mouth with yours. Unlike his quick peck, you moved in with the intention of savouring this one. Slowly, your mouths pressed together, tasting one another. He was slightly salty, due to the way his skin has perspired from his run and yet you didn’t care, pressing into his body further the longer your lips were attached to his. Your mind swirled with desire, and your heart thumped erratically as a result.

You were kissing Brian Kang.

When writing kissing scenes with him and Charli, albeit there had only been three so far, you had struggled. Just how would Brian Kang be as a kisser? No matter how much you had imagined his style or the way he would caress Charli, this moment in time was unlike anything you had penned. This was an entirely new feeling.

There was a hunger driving his lips now, his hands firmly taking purchase of your hips, drawing you in closer, making you his as much as you had made him yours. The taste to him changed, heating up with how his tongue dipped behind your teeth to greet yours, as if this exchange was something you two had done before. Kissing Brian was new, and yet it felt as if you had been doing it all your life. You were certain you could continue to keep kissing him as well, had you no need for air. However, you pulled away then, gasping in deep breaths, your mind and eyes blown from the experience.

Brian appeared just as dishevelled.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologise for kissing me,” Brian murmured, running his thumb over your now swollen lips. He smiled giddily before looking back at you with bright eyes. “Don’t ever apologise for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“That was some kiss,” he told you, cupping your cheek within his hand. Leaning in closer again, you felt your breath heighten, moistening your lips for him to take them hostage again. However, he merely kissed your cheek before letting you go entirely. “I’m going to have to watch myself around you, Miss Writer. Our story’s only just begun, and we’re already kissing one another. You’re more dangerous than I thought you’d be for my heart.”

“Why did I create you to say lines like that?!” you groaned as Brian slipped away from you and headed down the hallway towards your bathroom. Sticking your head around the corner to watch his departure, Brian stopped outside the door and glanced back at you, biting his lip before shaking his head and stepped into the bathroom to shower from his run.

Leaning against the threshold for support, you held your heart again.

It was beating in tune for him now.

_________________

Part 7

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#kwritersworldnet #young k #young k fiction #young k fluff #young k romance #young k au #day6 #day6 fiction #day6 fanfic #day6 fluff #day6 romance #day6 au #pwyl; to be continued #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop romance

[nsheetee]

Love Again

Pairing: Jisung x Reader Genre: Fluff, slight Angst Length: 3.2k Summary: You and Jisung are stuck in his family’s old beach house because of an unexpected storm, and are forced to confront what happened between you two six months ago. Key: section in italics indicate the scene happened in the past A/N: this is for all of my followers who cried over 20cm haha, I hope you all enjoy ♡

Love Again is the epilogue to 20cm, please read that story first before continuing 

December 12th, 4:34pm

Jisung quietly walks along the shore of the beach, cold sea breeze blowing against his side and sand shifting with every step under his feet. He sniffs and looks out to the water, digging his hands further into his pockets before stopping completely. To any other person, this would be just a random spot on the beach, an area that looks identical to any other along this long coastline, but to Jisung this would be a spot that is forever remembered in his heart.

This is where he kissed you for the first time.

The memory is imprinted in his mind. It replays during his most vulnerable moments: before he falls asleep, the days he feels like the world is against him, the times when he thinks of his first love. The memory is so sweet yet so bitter that Jisung can’t help but keep it close to his heart.

He sighs heavily while looking around the empty and cold beach, as if waiting for something that will never happen, and then turns around and walks back to the beach house.

This house had so many precious memories, not just of you, but of times he spent his childhood here. Every summer he would look forward to spending time at the beach and wasting the days away in the warm sun. Now, his parents have decided to sell the beach house, and Jisung volunteered to drive over and pick up any of his family’s personal belongings before the new owners arrive.

Jisung had a reason for volunteering; he hoped that picking up all of his belongings could be a way of closing the part of his life that lived here. He wanted those memories to only live in his head, not out and about in this house.

He digs out the old keys from his pocket and unlocks the front door, walking into the empty beach house. The dim weather outside permeates in, and dust floats in the air and makes Jisung cough a bit. The ocean is so close that Jisung can hear the thundering waves hit the shore from the storm brewing on the horizon of the ocean when he opens the back patio doors.

He lets fresh air in and looks around the dining and living room area, unsure of where to start packing, or if he even has any energy to do anything from driving all the way from the city. Before he can think too much, he hears a car park outside and then a car door open and shut. Jisung tilts his head and walks to the front door, wondering who just pulled up.

He pulls the front door open, his grip loosens on the door knob when he recognizes who is standing on the other side, the door hitting the wall with a loud bang as Jisung stands in shock.

“Bumble bee?” He asks in disbelief. You’re still standing outside, the screen door separating you and Jisung from each other, but you can hear him. You have the urge to get back into your car and drive away, but your shock keeps you from moving.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung realizes how cold his words sound only after he utters them, and he doesn’t miss the way your lips purse at his tone.

“Your mom called my mom. There’s some of our stuff here, too… from years ago.” You explain, still awkwardly standing on the porch while Jisung is inside. Drops of rain start to fall, making you tilt your head up to the sky and watch the dark and overflowing clouds drip down onto the earth. “I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow. I’ll just come back in a few days-”

“Wait.” Jisung hasn’t seen you in almost six months, but you haven’t changed much. Your hair grew a little longer and your face shrunk a bit. Jisung wonders if you’ve been eating well. Despite what happened the last time you saw each other, Jisung’s heart still races and his head gets a bit fuzzy at the sight of you.

Is Jisung stupid for still harbouring feelings for you, especially after you hurt him and didn’t contact him for almost six months? Maybe, but he’d be stupid for you any day.

“It’s supposed to storm soon, you shouldn’t drive back in the rain. Just… stay here for the night.” Jisung hates how he sounds like he’s pleading. More than anything, he wants to feel that rush of adrenaline from when you touch him, he just wants to be loved by you again like you did the last time you two were in this house. He craves that feeling, and he craves it only from you.

“Is that okay? Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, and long as you are.”

Just as the rain starts beating down, you step into the house and shut the door behind you. Jisung walks to the back patio door and closes it before any rain can get inside. You two stand in silence in the house, not sure about how both of your existences can fit into such a small space again. Your eyes looking everywhere but at each other.

“I’ll go find our stuff and start packing. I can use those boxes, right?” You point to some cardboard over on the left side of the room. Jisung meekly nods, watching as you put together a box and walk upstairs. After you leave, he mingles by the patio door and wonders about how everything went so haywire.

You were best friends for so long, confining in each other and having fun together. He misses that, too. Not just the deeper feelings he shares with you, but he misses the fun he has with you; how everything feels exciting when you’re around. He feels comfortable with you, as a person, friend, and lover. Jisung feels bitter about how he lost something as precious as that in his life.

The house is quiet as you two gather up your belongings and pack them into cardboard boxes. The storm outside shakes the house every once in a while, and Jisung catches glimpses of the roaring ocean whenever he looks out a window. Jisung isn’t sure how much time has passed, but it’s definitely night time when the lights and power turn off.

“Bumb— Y/N? Where are you?” Jisung calls out in the house when the flickering of the lights stops and the whole house is covered in darkness.

“Master bedroom.” You call out, not moving from your spot to avoid stepping on something and hurting yourself in the dark. Jisung walks in with a flashlight and lights the way out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

Now that the lights are off and the heat in the house is slowly diminishing, the storm outside is scarier than before. You tug your cardigan around you to keep some body warmth when the landline phone in the kitchens starts ringing. Jisung shines the light for you to walk over and answer it, watching as you listen intently and then hang up.

“That was the power company. They’ll have the power back on before midnight.” Jisung nods, and you both promptly jump when lightning strikes outside and thunder follows it shortly after.

“So, do you want some hot chocolate?” Jisung asks, being able to see you tilt your head thanks to his flashlight.

“How will we boil water?”

“The stove has gas.” Jisung shines the light over to the stove. “It’s an old piece of junk but it works without electricity.” Jisung shines the light back to you, his heart skipping a beat when you smile at him for the first time this whole day. You still don’t answer his question, wrapping your arms around yourself and biting your lip awkwardly.

“Hey, we can’t pack in the dark, it’ll get cold soon, and I don’t think I’ll be able to go to sleep with the storm happening outside. Let’s just have some hot chocolate.”

A few minutes later, the kettle on the stove is screeching for attention and you’re looking around the kitchen for some candles to light the kitchen table. Jisung brings the mugs full of hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows on top over to the table as you’re igniting a match and lighting the two candles you found. You sit next to each other, the view of the dark and angry ocean visible through the patio doors from your spot.

“Are these the mugs we got at Disney World?” You comment, looking at your own cup and then glancing at Jisung’s. You remember several years ago when your families went to Disney World for a vacation and you bought mugs as souvenirs, but quickly misplaced them and wondered where they went.

“Yeah, I found them in the back of the cupboard. Do you remember when we bought these? Our parents gave us cash to buy toys or stuffed animals or whatever, and they looked so shocked when we brought back two matching mugs instead.” You do remember, and the memory makes both of you laugh, reminiscing about how your parents called you and Jisung “strange” for not getting toys with the free money they gave you.

For a second, you and Jisung just live in the present, laughing at old memories and not worrying about the situation you’re in. Jisung loves how no matter what is happening, you can make him forget it all and just focus on you. The thunder from outside brings you two back to reality. You sit in silence, for a few moments and watch the waves hit the shore outside, the view slightly altered by the rain drops that managed to land on the clear patio door.

“Why didn’t you call?” Jisung doesn’t know what prompts him to ask the question, other than that it has been on his mind for ages. He watches you slowly put your mug down and look at him, eyes wide and calculating, like you’re thinking about how much you should tell him. You’re remembering the day that Jisung left, when you sobbed about your bitter first love under your oak tree and then walked inside of your house in tears.

“Y/N!” Your mother called out, watching you walk into the house from the porch door and stand in the middle of the kitchen, clothes dripping and boots muddy. She rushes to the cupboard in the hallway and pulls out a few towels, wrapping you in them and making you sit down at the kitchen table to take off your muddy shoes.

“Goodness, I said you would get caught in the rain, but no, you didn’t listen.” She tuts, patting you dry and tossling your hair. You don’t think she realizes that the wetness on your face is from your tears and that your eyes are red from crying, but maybe it’s better that she doesn’t ask questions about that. Despite her fussing over you, you still see the piece of paper lying on the kitchen table next to you.

“What’s that?” You ask, eyeing the paper with digits scratched on it in familiar handwriting.

“Jisung came back in before he left. He wanted to give that to you, but you already left for Uncle Henry’s.” Picking it up, your pruney fingertips leave the paper wet but still readable as you look at the numbers.

“Ugh, and look at my floor! Y/N, you’re mopping this up after you go take a warm shower.” Your mother sighs, but you barely hear her as you look at the piece of paper.

This is your one way of connecting to Jisung. You could call him tomorrow and hear his voice. You could call him next week and apologize. You could call him in a month and make a plan to meet up. There is so much you can do with this phone number, but you can’t find the will to save it.

The last words you said to Jisung ran through your head, “I’m sorry, Jisung. I think fate is pulling us apart. Who are we to go against that?” You hurt yourself just thinking about how ruthless you were to someone who just confessed their feelings to you.

You got up and walked to the kitchen, opening the trash can and taking one last look at the piece of paper before throwing it away. You can’t bring yourself to imagine that Jisung would still want to talk to you after all the things you said to him.

“I- I didn’t know what to say to you.” You finally answer Jisung’s question after a moment of silence between you two. “Like, ‘Hey, remember me? The girl who broke your heart and didn’t say goodbye to you? Yeah, wanna talk?’ That just… isn’t right.”

“I was waiting for your call. I answered every random phone number that called me because it could’ve been yours.” Jisung laughs, “I got put onto so many spam lists.” You smile at him, but it pains you to know that Jisung was patiently waiting for you when you never even thought about calling him.

You turn back to your hot chocolate, unsure of what to say. Jisung finally understands what is keeping you back; what is making you look so small and awkward in his presence.

You feel guilty.

It’s not a doubt that you broke his heart by using an excuse as silly as fate to justify your fears. But unlike Jisung, who has accepted your words, you seem to still live in the past, those words you told him still haunting you. Jisung doesn’t want you to be stuck in that time, he wants you to face the moment and figure things out now.

Jisung scoots his chair closer to you, the side of his face illuminated by the candles that are quickly dimming out. It brings your attention back to him as he tries to put his words together.

“Call me an idiot, but I still have feelings for you.” His sudden confession makes your eyebrows rise and your heart jump into your throat and then plummet down into your tummy. “When you said that we shouldn’t try to make this work because fate wasn’t on our side, it hurt, I’ll admit that, but it didn’t stop me from feeling love towards you.” You feel stupid for the tears coming to your eyes and you look away to wipe them. Jisung lightly places his hand on the side of your face and brings your gaze back to him.

“Don’t look away. Don’t hide your tears from me.” He wipes away the wet stains on your cheeks. “It’s okay if you still think we shouldn’t be together because fate doesn’t want us to. It’s okay if you still think we should go to our own lives and stay that way. But it’s not okay to think that I feel any less about you because of what you said to me. You’ll always be important to me. I’m so in love with you that I’ll do anything for you at this point.”

You feel like you just won a marathon, or like you woke up without an alarm clock for the first time in your life, or like your favorite song came on shuffle just when you were thinking about it; all of those feelings multiplied by a thousand. You feel energized and excited and so deep in your feelings for Jisung. How did you get so lucky to have someone like him in your life? You’re not sure, but one thought comes to the forefront of your mind as you look into his sincere eyes: You never want to let him go ever again.

“I love you, too. I never got to say it before. I’m sorry. I love you, too.” Jisung didn’t even realize you never said that phrase back to him, it just felt as if the fact didn’t need to be put into words to be known between you two. But now that the words are out, Jisung feels himself turn soft with adoration for you. He leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, the weather outside no longer bothering you as you sit in the dim candlelight. No more words are needed to express how gratifying and nice it feels to sit next to each other, reconnected, once again.

Jisung wakes up the next morning with the sun in his eyes. He digs his fingers through his hair as he sits up and stretches, and then immediately looks at the spot to his left. The area where you had fallen asleep last night is empty, and Jisung stays quiet for a moment to hear if you’re moving around the house.

When he hears nothing, he pushes the blankets off of him and gets up from the bed to wander down the stairs and to the kitchen. You’re nowhere to be seen and Jisung begins to panic, until he catches a glimpse outside of the patio doors of someone standing on the beach, facing the water.

“Y/N!” He calls out against the harsh wind as he walks through the sand towards you, meeting you and tugging a jacket over your shoulders. “You need to wear this, it’s too cold out.” He keeps his arms around you, holding the jacket over you. His chin rests on your head as you both cuddle against the cold winds, the shining sun doing nothing to heat you up. With the calm waves hitting the shore, no one would believe there was a bad storm here just a few hours ago.

“I thought you left me.” Jisung whispers as he leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You two had spent the night in the same bed under the excuse that it would be warmer than sleeping alone, since the power had not yet turned on when you decided to sleep. In reality, you just didn’t want to leave Jisung and he didn’t want to leave you, not when you just got each other back.

“Never. I’ll never do that again.” Your answer fulfills his comment, but it also answers what you were talking about last night. It’s scary to look up at Jisung and think about how much unknown is ahead of you, but it’s comforting to know that Jisung is the one that will be there to jump every hurdle with you.

Keeping the zippers of your coat in his hands, Jisung turns you away from the water to face him. He remembers how timid and shy he was the first time you two were staring at each other like this, in this exact same spot. Now, he feels that same bashfulness possess him, but the fondness and love for you over powers it, making him lean in and connect his lips with yours for the second time in his life.

He kisses you sweetly, warming you up from the inside out, making you feel like you’re in an oven rather than on a cold beach in December. Soon, his kisses turn needier and he pulls you closer, chest to chest and noses scrunching together. You both smile, scared and in love and awaiting your unsure future together. You never imagined being stuck in a beach house during a storm could bring you to your senses, and could bring your lover back to you.

Maybe that’s what fate had planned for you all along.

#jisung #nct dream au #nct dream fluff #jisung fluff #nct dream #nct #park jisung #nct fluff #jisung fic #jisung au #nct fic #nct au #nct dream fic #nct x reader #nct jisung #nct scenarios #nct imagines #jisung scenarios #jisung imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #jisung x reader

[3pirouette]

Fic: Nobody's Baby: Menace (1/1)

Title: Menace

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Menace at AO3

Nobody's Baby Series at AO3

Story Summary: Steve wasn’t sure he was going to make it.

Six weeks.

There were six weeks left, give or take, and then…

Well, he supposed that things would change, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure and neither was Howard.

A/N: Set in April of 1954, right before the Epilogue of Nobody’s Baby. For Steggy Week Day 6: Our Favorite Family. I’m also using this to cross “Domestic Fluff” off my Steggy Bingo Board because I don’t think it gets much more domestic OR fluffy.

I… have no idea what kids learned in school in 1954. Just… made my best guess.

~*~

Steve wasn’t sure he was going to make it.

Six weeks.

There were six weeks left, give or take, and then…

Well, he supposed that things would change, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure and neither was Howard.

Mandy was enough of a tornado; at eight she had the energy of three grown men and the ability to sit still for about five minutes if something didn’t capture her attention. But adding Peggy into the mix…

He scratched his head, looking at the dent in the refrigerator. He was strong enough to reshape the metal, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to get to it without disassembling the whole thing. He bit his thumb and turned back to his wife who was watching him from the door, hands on her stomach.

“How, exactly,” he started, curious but still gentle, “did you manage this one?”

Peggy looked contrite, her lip between her teeth and eyes sad as she stroked her pregnant belly. “I leaned on it too fast.”

Her earnestness hit him in the gut and he could do nothing but laugh.

She gently pressed off the wall, frustrated. “It’s not funny, Steve!”

“Awww,” he tried to suppress his laughter, but it still trickled out as a chuckle as he pulled her tight into his embrace. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…” When she sniffled he knew he’d gone too far. Steve leaned back, taking her chin gently in his hand. “I’m just getting really good at home repairs, is all.”

Peggy shook her head fiercely, eyes welling. She was still subject to horrible mood swings, even this late into the pregnancy. “I’m a menace.”

“You’re my menace,” Steve replied quickly, kissing her forehead and cradling her tight in his arms. “Besides, the refrigerator needed a little… style.”

He wasn’t sure if the sound Peggy made was a laugh or a sob, but her held her just a little tighter, anyway. They hadn’t been sure, after so long of trying and nothing happening, that they’d be able to have children of their own. Being pregnant was a big enough surprise after years of thinking it wouldn’t happen, but the enhancements she was displaying since, well, those were a little harder to deal with.

Howard had tried to figure out exactly what was happening, but could only give them his best guesses since he and Erskine hadn’t ever gotten this far in their planning or research. He assumed it was something about Peggy and the baby sharing blood supply and genetic material, but as to how long it would last once the baby was born or if it was a permanent change to Peggy’s system, he didn’t know. Anytime they asked him a question he didn’t know the answer to, Howard would wave his hands in the air and say it was the “miracle of pregnancy.”

Neither Steve nor Peggy were very partial to that answer.

The hearing and sense of smell were both helpful and annoying to her, the quick healing was quite useful, but the strength had knocked her for a loop and almost seven months later she was still having little… mishaps.

“I know I say this all the time,” Peggy mumbled into his neck, “but how did you manage?”

“It was a war,” Steve whispered, not caring how many times he’d have to talk about it. “People didn’t care if there was some collateral damage until I figured it all out.” He swayed them side to side gently, rubbing his hand over her back. “Though, they were a little sore on the USO tour if I managed to break something.”

Peggy shook her head against him. “The kitchen table, two chairs, three… three doors off the hinges, the shower head, two holes in walls, the typewriter, the bathroom sink, and the refrigerator. Any other casualties I’m missing?”

Steve winced, but said it anyway. “The dollhouse.”

She deflated in his arms. “Yes, and the dollhouse.” She turned sideways, letting her belly rest against his so she could lean into him. “What if this never goes away?”

Steve let his hand flatten over the curve of her stomach, stroking gently through the fabric of her dress. “Then we will have the most well protected kids in the world.”

“Right,” she muttered, “As I stumble around and put holes in the walls.”

Steve continued gentle strokes up and down over the curve of her stomach. “No, by then you’ll have regained your balance and with the little guy—”

“Or girl,” Peggy mumbled.

“Or girl,” Steve amended quickly, “on the outside we can get you training- get you used to it.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “No matter what happens, in a few weeks we’re going to have a new focus, but I’m not going to let you struggle, ok?” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m right here with you.”

Peggy hummed, unconvinced as she did a little two step to turn them to face the refrigerator. “Perhaps.” She sighed, her tears abated for the moment and her mind set on more practical things, “But what are we going to do about right now?”

“Well—”

Steve’s long, drawn out syllable was interrupted by the slamming of the back door and Mandy tearing into the kitchen, her bag falling off her shoulder and braids in shambles. “Hi Mom, Dad!” She hugged them tight, her bag falling to the floor.

Steve’s arm wrapped around the girl as Peggy held tight to him, Mandy’s energy nearly knocking her over. She let her hand settle on the back of the girl’s head after she finally regained her footing with more than a little help from Steve’s sure grip. “Well, aren’t you full of energy today!” Peggy laughed out, her fingers running over the hairs sticking out of the braids.

“School was so boring today,” Mandy mumbled, looking up at them. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to Peggy’s stomach, whispering something unintelligible to the baby before pulling away from her parents.

Steve could see Peggy tearing up again as she rubbed the spot Mandy had kissed. He gave her a little squeeze and turned back to Mandy, who was gleefully chattering on, unaware she’d done something precious. “Math was a review and I got all the answers right from last night’s homework, so I just had to listen. Then we had time to read our chapter books, and we had to write a summary, which is boring because I already read it, so why do I have to talk about what I just read?”

Steve smiled as Mandy sat herself on the floor, digging through her bag. “So that you can show you understand it. That’s an important skill.”

Mandy looked up at him and after a moment of contemplation, shrugged. “Ok,” she muttered, turned back to her bag. “We had art today, too, and that was pretty fun. We used different kinds of macaroni to make a map yesterday, and then after lunch today we painted it.” Mandy was almost halfway in her backpack now, looking for the errant art project. She pulled it out with a flourish and smiled. “Miss Williams said mine was the most colorful, and Jeremy got in trouble.”

“Jeremy got in trouble?” Peggy asked, smiling as Mandy stood and tried to show them both the sheet of paper filled with an explosion of various shaped pastas in bright colors.

“He said they should have kept the pasta for lunch because lunch was bad, so he got sent to the principal’s office for talking back.” Mandy shrugged and handed the picture to Steve. “He’s not wrong. The turkey sandwiches were dry.” She scrunched up her face and shook her head like she was trying erase the memory of the food.

“Be that as it may, this is quite lovely dear!” Peggy smiled and looked at the paper. “What is it the map of?”

“Well, we were supposed to make a map about a place we know, but I thought that would be boring.” Mandy sat back down on the floor and started to put all the papers and pencils from her bag back in. “So, I made a treasure map instead.” She stood back up and hefted the bag over her shoulder. “I only have a little homework tonight so I’ll be done pretty fast. Just some science homework. What’s for dinner?”

Peggy stepped away from Steve, setting a hand on Mandy’s shoulder. “Well, that’s good that you don’t have much, because Aunt Ana has invited us over for dinner tonight.” She smiled and moved to head her towards her room. “We need to get you a little more presentable, and you can work on your science while we’re talking about boring adult things after dinner.”

Mandy squealed in delight, bouncing. “Do you think Aunt Ana’s cooking or is it Uncle Jarvis? Maybe she’ll have the little rolls I like. Oh! Will Bernard be there?”

Steve shook his head, chucking under his breath as he moved towards the refrigerator, a glint in his eyes.

Peggy laughed and flicked a half-unraveled braid over Mandy’s shoulder. “Absolutely not. Bernard lives in California, darling.” She turned her daughter towards the door. “I’ll let you pick your dress but you must sit still for me to fix your hair, understood?”

Mandy could barely hide her excitement for the night out. “Yes, Mom.”

“Hey, what do you think? Temporary fix?” Steve caught both of their attention, pointing to the refrigerator where he’d hung Mandy’s art up with a magnet over the dent with a proud smile on his face.

Peggy rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him, rubbing a hand over her belly “I suppose it shall do for now.” She sighed happily, felling just a little overly domestic at the sight of Steve standing by their daughter’s artwork, proud of both her and himself. “Alright, you two, we need to get a move on. Edwin’s expecting us.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, starting to move then stopping, turning his head to the side as he contemplated the macaroni art. “Mandy?”

She and Peggy stopped half out of the kitchen. “Yeah, Dad?”

“Is this…” he paused, a concern growing in his head, “is this our yard?”

She nodded proudly. “Uh huh.”

“Oh!” Peggy smiled, smoothing down her daughter’s hair, oblivious to Steve’s discovery. “I can see the shed and the little garden patch in the back. Very good job.”

“And…” he paused again, this time his hesitancy caught Peggy’s attention and her smile dropped just a bit. “And where’s the treasure?” Steve asked, cautiously. “I don’t see an ‘x’ to mark the spot.”

Mandy chuckled, her face alive with what they’d come to know as her mischievous smile. “You’re going to have to find it.” She turned, moving out of the kitchen and bounding up the stairs. “Especially if you want it back!”

Steve and Peggy stared at one another for a long moment, the sound of Mandy bouncing around in her room a far second to the panic they both felt.

“What did she bury?” Peggy asked, her voice quiet and as deathly serious as if she were in the field.

“What are we missing?” Steve asked, just as serious, eyes flying all over the room. He and Peggy passed one another as Steve kept looking for little holes where trinkets or heirlooms might have caught Mandy’s eye while Peggy scoured the colorful macaroni for anything that might be a clue. Steve stopped and turned slowly, another thought dawning on him. “Honey?”

“Hum?” She asked, eyes still scouring the page.

He tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, but he knew that if he was right, this was unlikely to go well. “Where’s your ring?”

“I couldn’t find it this morning; I must have missed my jewelry dish last night and I couldn’t quite get on the floor to check under…” She stopped, her mind finally clicking over. She stood slowly, looking at him. “No.”

He grimaced. “I mean…”

Peggy’s jaw tightened and her eyes grew serious. “You need to take this one back,” she gestured at her belly. “I can’t handle two.”

Steve smirked and took her hand, gently pulling her towards the stairs. “A little late for that, I think.”

Peggy reluctantly let him pull her along. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t handle another little carbon copy of us scooting about, being sneaky and subverting our every effort to parent them.”

He stopped them at the bottom of the stairs, smiling softly. “It’ll be fine.” He kissed her softly then started up the stairs. “Let’s just take it one refrigerator and wedding ring at a time, huh?”

Peggy grumbled and started up behind him, significantly slower. “That little devil is lucky I love her, Shield has some beautiful new detention cells I’ve been dying to try out.”

Steve paused at the top. “She’s scrappy, like her mom.” He kissed Peggy’s forehead and helped her up the last few stairs.

“And as stubborn and sneaky as her father when she gets an idea in her head.” Peggy took a slow breath and stood near the doorway. “It’s your turn.”

Steve rubbed his face, suddenly not liking where this was going. “Then why’d you come up?”

“Because while you’re digging out in the yard for my ring, I’m going to have to get that whirlwind of a child ready and as you just saw, I do need a hand nowadays if I’m to get up here in one go.” Peggy shook her head and gave him a push towards the door. She smiled, a glint and a challenge in her eye. “You’re up, Daddy.”

He took a deep breath, and with a voice and facial expression Peggy knew well from the days of the red, white, and blue suit, entered enemy territory. “Amanda Grace? Where did you bury your mother’s ring?”

Her voice was so proud when she replied, Peggy nearly doubled over with laughter. “I told you, you’re going to have to find it. That’s what the map is for!”

Peggy wasn’t sure she was going to make it.

Six weeks.

There were six weeks left, give or take, and then…

Well, she supposed that things would change, but the truth was, super strength and buried rings and all, she wouldn’t give it up for the world.

#steggyweek21 #steggy bingo bash #3P's Fic #Nobody's Baby

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten Part VIII

Kylos got 99 problems but the bitch ain’t one 

taglist: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard @millenialcatlady

Please mind the tags.

PLEASE skip this update if any of the content is triggering for you. I will make sure to provide a recap at the beginning of the epilogue.

Kylo Ren AU x Reader

WARNINGS: drug use, drug paraphernalia, violence (breaking shit), angst, so many feels, smut, NSFW, mentions of pregnancy   

It had been 3 days since you had heard from Kylo. 

Once upon a time you wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.

But these days? 

You were starting to feel concerned.

You were sitting at your desk, looking at your phone blankly. 

No messages. 

You had sent him two text messages, one last night and one this morning. No reply. 

You were beginning to spiral- if you were honest with yourself. Had he changed his mind? Was this his way of ending things? Was there someone else? 

Your office phone rang, you considered ignoring it, not in the headspace to deal with…..anything.

You talked yourself around and answered.

“Hello?”

“Dr y/l/n?” 

“Speaking.”

“Hello dear, I hope you remember me, this is Jan, Dr Ren’s booking clerk.”

“Of course I do, Jan, is everything ok?” 

“Well, I'm not so sure I’m afraid, and I’m so sorry to ring you like this and at your place of work but-... well, we have been unable to get hold of Dr Ren and he has no emergency contacts listed here, you were the only person I could think of.” 

You began to ask a question but Jan talked over you, clearly flustered.

“I just wouldn’t normally do this but you see, Dr Ren is usually so punctual, I couldn’t get a hold of him yesterday afternoon and now he is 2 hours late, this is just so unlike him, I’m beginning to get concerned.” 

You felt sick. 

“I haven’t heard from him either, Jan, but I'm going to go to his place now and check on him, I really appreciate the call, can I take your number and update you?” Your managerial override kicking in as your panic increased with every passing second.

One you placed the phone back in the cradle you sat with your head in your hands, took some slow deep breaths before grabbing all your belongings and half running out the door.

—

By the time you were standing outside Kylo’s front door you had almost convinced yourself you were over-reacting.

If he hadn’t cut you loose already you were willing to bet that knocking down his front door in a frenzy would seal the deal.

But you just had this feeling. 

Something was wrong.

You knocked and waited. 

Knocked again. 

You rang his phone to no answer.

You tried the door handle, it was open. 

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you pushed the front door open cautiously. 

“Kylo?” You called, stepping over the threshold, “it’s just me…...checking on you….”

It was completely silent in the apartment. You felt like you were intruding, doubt plaguing you as you walked towards the living area. 

You were stopped in your tracks by a pair of dress shoes, haphazardly strewn in the hallway like they had been kicked off. Not neatly placed, odd. You knew enough about Kylo to know he liked order. 

Stepping into the kitchen your blood ran cold at the scene before you. 

A smashed glass on the tiles and- what was that? Blood?!

You began running, bursting through his bedroom door, the bed was made and untouched but you could see light shining from the en-suite bathroom.

“Ohshitohfuck!” You could see him lying on the tiles from where you stood in the bedroom. 

Your legs somehow carried you to the bathroom. You knelt down next to him, you could see his chest rising and falling, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled in relief. 

“Kylo?” You said softly, touching his arm. He didn’t stir, even when you repeated yourself louder. His skin was clammy and off color, he lay in a sort of fetal position. His knuckles were bloody, but the blood had dried and clotted.

“Shitshitshitshit.” you hissed.

You hadn’t evening looked around the room, too focused on Kylo. 

The bathroom looked like a hurricane had hit, the cracked mirror explained his bloody knuckles. However this didn’t scare you as much as the tiny ziplock bag on the counter. A few used needles, lighter and spoon in the sink. 

You tried to control your breathing, leaning against the vanity. This was not the time to fall to pieces. 

You began to look for his phone, eventually locating it on the kitchen counter. 

You tapped the home screen, seeing all the missed calls and messages from yourself and Jan. You let our a shaky breath when you realised his lock screen was a picture of you and 3 giant pizzas that he had taken after the charity event. 

 Running back to the bathroom you gently used his thumb to unlock the phone. 

Pushing aside intense feelings of guilt for going through his phone, you tapped into the recent calls, hoping to find anyone you could call. Nothing helpful. 

Opening the messages there were yours, unread. Below was a thread with ‘Luke from Group’.

Your hand shook as you tapped into the thread from 2 days ago. 

Kylo Hi Luke, are the meetings still on the same day? I feel I may need to come to the next one.

Luke from Group Nice to hear from you, yes they still are. Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you need anything before then ok? Hope you are keeping well. 

Kylo Thank you, Luke.

“Okay” you breathed, ringing ‘Luke from Group.’

He answered after 2 rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, hello, I am Kylo’s…” you took a breath, “look, I've just found Kylo on the floor in his bathroom and I think he’s taken drugs.” You blurted.

There was a pause, in which wondered if you had just told some random acquaintance sensitive information.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, soothing your fried nerves. “Ok, i want you to position him so his airways are open, can you do that?” 

“Yes, let me put you on speaker.” 

Luke talked you through placing Kylo in a recovery position, before hanging up to come straight over. 

You sat, watching Kylo breath until you heard a knock at the door. 

-

Luke was an older gentleman with a kind face. 

He followed you to the bathroom and sighed sadly when he saw Kylo. “Oh dear, Kylo my boy....” 

He knelt down and tried to rouse him, having no more luck than you did.

“I think we need to get him somewhere more comfortable, he is going to feel like absolute hell the next few days.” Luke looked to you. 

“Let’s take him to my place- if you don’t mind? It will be easier for me to look after him there.” 

“You can look after him for the week?” 

“Yes, absolutely, I’ll sort all this,” You waved around at the trashed bathroom, “if you could guide me on what else to do?” 

“Well aren’t you a goddamn angel.” Luke said softly, looking at Kylo. 

You organized that Luke would go ahead with Kylo to your place and you would follow once you had grabbed Kylo’s things.

Another friend of Luke’s arrived who knew Kylo, you assumed through the same channels. They somehow managed to support him enough to get him down the lift and into Luke’s car. 

Kylo was barely conscious, “he won’t remember any of this.” Luke told you, as you looked on.

Once the door closed behind them a deathly quiet settled over the apartment. 

You lent against the kitchen counter, no longer able to keep in the emotion, heaving sobs taking over your body. 

-

You found an overnight bag and stuffed as many clothes and toiletries of Kylo’s as you could inside, silently thanking him for his anal-retentive organization, which made everything easy to find. 

You cleaned up the bathroom as best you could, making a mental note to hire a glazier to replace the mirror. 

You rang work and took a week's leave, effective immediately citing a family emergency (close enough). 

You then rang Jan. 

You were trying to vaguely explain the situation, when Jan interrupted. 

“Y/n, i have to ask, has he relapsed?” Her voice was low, and uncharacteristically somber. 

“Yes.” Your voice wavered. 

“Oh y/n, darling, oh Kylo, oh what a shame, god he was just doing fantastically.” She lamented, “a horrible disease addiction, horrible!” 

You didn’t know what to say, there was something so motherly about Jan, you felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude that Kylo had her in his life. 

“Now don’t you worry about a thing here sweetheart, I will sort it all out- discreetly of course. You give Dr Ren my love won’t you, I'm so glad he has you y/n, so glad, god I have lost sleep over that damn boy” there was a fondness in her voice that sugested she cared about Kylo, very much. 

Ending the call you felt better, at least some things were in order, amidst the chaos.

-

You hardly remember driving home, your mind running 100 miles a second. 

You opened the front door to the smell of coffee.

Luke looked up as you walked into the kitchen, “I hope you don’t mind, I started a pot” he nodded at the coffee brewing in the French press.

“Not at all. How is he?” You walked to the door of your bedroom and peaked in. A large Kylo shaped mound was in your bed, still. 

“He woke briefly, I talked to him a little, he was still high but asked after you. Sleeping again now. He is going to feel like hell the next few days, but let’s talk about that over coffee.”

“I’m going to need sugar, cake?” You asked, opening the cupboard.

“I never turn down cake.” Luke smiled.

You cut generous slices of cake and settled at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee. 

“How long...ah, I assume you are romantically involved?” Luke asked, looking a bit embarrassed.

You sighed, “it’s creeping up to a year, we haven’t really been anything serious though, looks like it was heading that way recently.”

“Ah.” Luke nodded, as if things made sense to him now.

“Why do you ask?” 

“Kylo holds a belief that everyone or anything precious to him will leave him or be taken from him. He is a skilled self-saboteur” He mused before sipping his coffee. “I was wondering if anything major had happened….”

“Is this to do with his parents?” You asked.

“Without a doubt, without a doubt.” Luke nodded, “such a sad state of affairs.” 

You talked for a good hour, draining a few cups of coffee each. Luke ran you through the symptoms you should expect over the next week. It sounded horrible. 

Luke said he would come by and collect him in 2 days for the next meeting. You learnt they had met at an NA group and become unlikely friends. .

You saw Luke off with a hug and a torrent of thanks. 

-

You sat on the bed next to Kylo’s sleeping form and tried to read, eventually nodding off. 

You woke to a low groan. 

Kylo was rousing. He was coated in a layer of sweat and made a heart-wrenching whimpering noise.

“Kylo, it’s ok, I’m here.” You soothed, stroking his hair. 

“Y/n?” He croaked, half opening his eyes. 

Your eyes filled with tears, “yeah baby, it’s ok.” 

“Can you- I need-” he looked toward the bathroom desperately. 

“I’ll help you.” You clambered off the bed, going over to the side he was on and pulled back the covers.

His clothes were soaked with sweat, he shivered.

“Oh god, ok, let’s get you in the bathroom baby, I’ll run you a bath too.” 

You helped him up, and did your best to support him as he walked, like he had drunk a bottle of vodka, to the bathroom. 

He promptly threw up in the toilet. 

You held his hair out of the way, rubbing circles on his back as he heaved, emptying his stomach. 

You began running the bath, before getting a bottle of water from the fridge. 

His hands shook violently as he sloshed some into his mouth.

When his urge to vomit subsided he slouched against the wall, closing his eyes. 

-

When the bath was full you peeled Kylo’s clothes off and unwrapped the bandage Luke had used to cover his bloody knuckles before helping him into the warm water. He didn’t protest to any of your help, like you expected him to, he was silent, unable to meet your eyes. Defeated. 

He sat in the bath, head hung. When you fetched a cloth and gently wiped his back he began to sob.

You felt like someone had taken to your heart with a hammer. 

“Kylo.” Your voice cracked, “it’s going to be ok.”

You were knelt beside the tub helplessly as he cradled his head in his hands, body shaking with emotion.

Tears ran down your face. You didn’t know what else to do, so you stripped off your clothes and climbed in behind him. You wrapped your body around him as best you could, resting your forehead on his back. 

“Shhhhhhh, It’s ok, it’s ok, I got you, it’s ok.” You repeated softly until his gasping sobs subsided. 

“I’m sorry.” He croaked. “I’m so-” 

“Baby, don’t, it’s ok, it’s all ok. Let’s just get you sorted out for now ok?” You pressed a kiss on his spine before getting out of the bath and fetching him some sleep clothes, quickly stripping and remaking the bed.

Once he was clean, dry and in bed, you had a shower before crawling in beside him and taking his hand as he snored softly.

—

You woke the next to Kylo sitting up in bed next to you, gazing at you. 

“Hi.” You said softly.

He managed a sad, half hearted smile, looking like death warmed up. Dark circles under his eyes, skin devoid of warmth and eyes bloodshot.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

“Like shit. Predictably, which I deserve.” 

You sat up and took his hand, gently examining his injured knuckles. 

“If you were trying to scare me off, this was a noble effort.” You smiled weakly. “Although I’m afraid you only succeeded in giving me some grey hairs.”

You looked at him, his brow furrowed, “you have every right to cut me out of your life.”

“Well, I would never.” 

“You should.” He cast his eyes down. 

“Why?” 

“I’m a piece of shit junkie for a start.” His voice was heavy with self loathing. 

“Kylo no-” you tried.

“I am, you’d do well to run for the fucking hills.” 

“Well I won’t.” You snapped, dropping his hand with a scowl.

He looked at you, slightly shocked.

“For someone so smart, you sure are thick!” You felt hot tears run down your face. “Because I love you, you big, beautiful idiot, I’m deeply, irreversibly in love with you.”

Kylo looked like you had slapped him in the face, mouth hung slightly open.

“I know this didn’t start as-” you began, in a panic.

He pulled your body into his in one quick movement, his grip tight, he cradled you, pressing his own, now damp cheek to your forehead.

“I fucking love you so much.” He choked. 

The dam broke, you burst into tears. Heaving sobs into his chest. He rocked you. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” He repeated, over and over. 

“I thought-.. i thought i-.. i had lost you.” you sobbed into his chest.

You stayed there, clutching each other for a long time, safe in the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated, that you didn’t have to endure a heartbreak.

-

Luke came the next day, they went to an NA meeting, you cooked dinner while they were out, glad to have a menial task to focus on. 

Luke stayed long after dinner, talking with Kylo in your living room, you busied yourself doing other things, laundry, dishes, anything to give them time together. 

“I knew soon after i met her, she was my person, you know? I’ve never felt...so alive around someone before” you heard Kylo confide in Luke.

You paused, feeling guilty for eavesdropping.

“Don’t you let her go boy, anyone who doesn’t bolt in a time like this is worth their weight in gold. Y/n has you back. My first wife dropped me like a hot potato when she found out i was using.” 

“I just don’t feel like I deserve her.”

“You can’t keep punishing yourself like this Kylo. Have you thought about therapy, if not for your sake, for hers?”

Kylo sighed, “I have connections enough to find a therapist.”

“Please consider it, therapy has kept me clean for 20 years and you know what, if you want to make a life with y/n i would say it is a damn necessity.”

“You’re right, it’s just…”

“I know it’s hard, it’s painful, but god, it’s worth it, and you have a beautiful woman willing to stick this out with you. You are a lucky son of a bitch.” Luke laughed. 

-

With Luke’s help you got Kylo through the week, his color finally came back and the symptoms of withdrawals slowly eased. 

Luke ferried him off to NA meetings and therapist appointments almost daily. He insisted, saying you needed time to relax.

Kylo came back from long therapy sessions looking wrung out, his eyes often puffy. 

“I’ve never cried so much in my life.” he had mumbled, laying on the couch, his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

-

You both took another week off.

Jan came over at your invitation and promptly burst into tears when she saw Kylo, batting him over the head then giving him a fierce hug. 

Your own eyes teared up, but you laughed at the look of bewilderment on Kylo’s face as he patted her back awkwardly. 

“You really hit the jackpot with this one Kylo, i don’t know what i would have done without y/n last week - my god!” she sniffed, dabbing her eyes before hugging you with the same enthusiasm. You winked at Kylo over her shoulder. He mouthed “brat”.

“You’ll give her a big head Jan.” he teased. 

Jan spun around, and Kylo, bless him, looked slightly fearful. 

“Now listen here you! I may not be your mother, but you are damn near like a son to me and i swear to god i have been praying for someone like y/n to come along for you! You treat her like a damn Queen or you’ll have me to answer to! You hear?!” She had her hands on her hips.

Kylo held up his hands, “Yes ma'am!”

You were snickering as Jan batted him around the head again.  

-

Kylo was slowly returning to the one you knew, you loved. 

You fell into an easy routine of domesticity. Enjoying the simple things like cooking for Kylo, reading in bed together before falling asleep and drinking coffee in the morning sun. 

You were taking long walks together daily, around the city and you had been showing him all your favorite galleries, talking him through the art. He would gaze at you as you talked, like you had hung the moon. 

You hadn’t been intimate since…. the event, for obvious reasons. 

But today, today he was handsy. The little smack on your ass when you handed him a coffee. The graze of his fingers over your stomach and the gentle kiss on your neck as you cooked dinner. 

“You must be feeling better.” You teased, his hand creeping under your shirt as you watched tv together. 

He hummed in agreement, with that smirk you so adored, “I’ve missed my partner's body.”

You raised your eyebrows with a smile, “partner huh? I like that.”

He smiled, hand continuing to roam.

“I’m gonna take a shower then I’ll meet you in bed?” You asked hopefully.

“I’ll be waiting, Kitten.” 

He smacked your ass as you clambered off the sofa.

-

When you walked back into the bedroom, naked, he was sitting up, reading, and stilled when he looked up. 

“Come here.” His voice husky as he blindly placed the book down. 

You sauntered over, swaying your hips with a grin.

“Little devil.” He pushed the sheets down revealing his half hard cock, “come sit on my lap Kitten.”

There he was, your man. 

You eagerly climbed up and onto his thighs, you were already wet from sheer anticipation.

He took your face in his hands, sucking your bottom lip gently and smiling against your mouth at the little moan you uttered. 

Your hands became lost in his hair as you kissed. He became fully hard beneath you, your hips moving to drag your pussy along his length. 

“God Kitten, I've missed this.” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours as you reached down and positioned his cock. 

You gasped softly in unison as you slid down onto him, your lips meeting again as you began to roll your hips slowly. 

Kylo’s lips traveled along your jaw and down your neck, planting sweet kisses, while his hands explored your body. One rested on your ass, squeezing your flesh gently, the other on your breast, fingers tweaking your nipple.

“Let me do the work now.” he said softly, before rolling you both so you were beneath him. You spread your legs wide and pulled them up to your torso so he could bury himself as deep as possible.  

You hummed happily when he took your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling.

He used one hand to hold his weight off your body, the other cupped your face, his thumb grazing your lips as little whimpers of pleasure tumbled from them. Your tongue darted out, mouth opening in invitation. He pushed his thumb in and you sucked as his hips moved a bit faster. 

“Look at you.” voice tinged with awe and adoration. You met his gaze, pulling his thumb from your mouth.

“I love you, baby” you breathed, “so much.”

You swore his eyes got a little misty as he gave a happy groan, pressing himself as close to you as possible, head burrowing into your neck.

“Y/n,” he murmured, “god i- you’re-”

You moaned as he moved, just so, finding your g-spot. 

“I want to do everything with you, only you.” he panted.

“Everything?” 

“Mmmmmph, make you my-....wife, prettylittlewife.” 

You gasped, moaning happily.

He growled in your ear, “You like that? Fuck- how about i put it baby in that belly, Kitten?”

You whimpered, arching your back at his cock pounded your g-spot, his words of such devotion fueling the fire in your abdomen. 

“Yeeeeesssss, fuck- Kylo.”

He reached and began to rub your clit, the way he had learnt you liked. 

“I love you.” he breathed, kissing your neck as you began to climax beneath him. You moaned loudly, clutching at him as you rode out your orgasm. 

He thrust a few more times and came with a grunt as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

-

When you were curled up together, on the precipice of sleep, he murmured “I meant what i said earlier y/n, about doing everything, you’re my person.”

--

Author note:

YOU MADE IT. IT IS ALL OK. I actually made myself cry while writing this chapter. I’m going to blame hormones, I'm such a soft bitch. I realise the whole dealing-with-kylos-addiction situation is not an accurate representation of how this would or should be handled in reality. Please take it for what it is. Fiction.  Alright i am going to push publish now and go hide.  Cheerio. 

#mind the tags #mind the warnings #kylo ren au #kylo ren x reader #kitten

[justalittletomato]

It’s just temporary..right??? (Part 4 Last one)

A/N: Yes it says the last one..but you never know epilogues might be good to use. 

Synopsis: An intruder has entered the bunker, Y/N has one thought in mind keep her son safe at any cost. Sometimes the return is worse. 

Warnings: ANGST...I AM SORRY.

Link to part 3: https://justalittlecloud.tumblr.com/post/629604572170715136/its-temporaryright-short-drabble-part-3

Metal clanked on metal, whoever had entered the bunker wanted to make themselves known. Y/N held tight to her child, her one thing left in this desolate galaxy, her other gripped the  blaster at her hip, “ STAY AWAY!!!” her scream into the dark rang in Cress’s ears, the poor thing couldn’t help but cry.

The sound echoes closer, “ I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU GET CLOSER!” She’d kill anyone who would harm her baby, she had to save him. He had to stay safe, she was the only one who could keep him safe now.

In the dark, a flicker of gold shone through, rather than feel a wave of hope Y/N only grew more distraught, “ HOW DARE YOU!? He’s gone you have no right to have his eyes!  LEAVE!!”  Maul wasn’t here anymore, he was gone and dead on Mandalore, he had left her alone. She aimed the blaster at the direction of those golden lights, the love she once had for them eroding away.

“Starlight….”  she knew that name, it had been whispered to her so many times now, sometimes angry, mostly soft and in disbelief with love, one thing was for certain it was in a voice she craved more than anything else. She didn’t want to believe it, she was not letting herself fall for this.

The child in her arms, fought against his mother’s hold, his little cry now in direction of the lights, his hands reaching out to the dark, he knew who this was. That familiar thrum in the Force  was clear, of course the child didn’t know this but he could feel it all the same.

Maul was at a loss as he entered the hanger, the familiar signatures soothed him only momentarily, even in the dark he could see the damage he had done.  Y/n holding thier son to her chest, screaming at the “intruder” to leave them be. It was when he looked more closely that he saw why, the holo-video, his obituary, he winced at the thought, had been played. His starlight thought him dead, now all she could be thinking was that the person who entered was going to destroy her, even worse harm the one thing she had left. Cress was crying, frightened by his mother’s distress and Maul couldn’t even comfort him. Her threats to kill should not go unnoticed, his starlight would kill any threat would be extinguished if she had to even him.

He could see the panic in her eyes when he drew closer, she could see his eyes in the dark, she did not put down the blaster, rather her aim became more precise. She had accepted his death, forced herself too. She would kill him.

Teeth clamped onto her hand, Y/N yelped, as Cress held tight.  His now sizable teeth had went down considerably, Y/N had to let go of her blaster.

Maul saw his chance and pushed it aside. Y/N scrambled back, still with Cress biting her hand. “NO!”

There is little light in here, but she can see the familiar crown of horns, and slowly the crimson Zabrak she thought dead in front of her. He was crouched down low trying to avoid further sending her into a scared panic.

“ DA!” Cress had let go of his hold and reached for his father. Y/N couldn’t keep her hold on him,  she felt numb staring at Maul, her feelings turbulent.

Do I reach for him or do I denounce him?

Her son had made his own choice, slipping out of his mother’s hold and crawling along the metal floor towards the person he had missed terribly.  

“Daddy!” Of course now he would say his first true word. The little one grabbed a hold of one his father’s  leg supporting himself upwards to stand upright, “Daddy!” the child said again. Cress’s eyes filled up with tears. Maul embraced his son, “ I’m here, I’m here.” his little one was crying for him. Maul just held onto to him, begging his child for forgiveness for leaving, for almost missing out on the wonderful word for the first time, and a lifetime with his child.

Y/N stood up, she  swayed back and forth as if the slightest thing could knock her over, a mere word might do the trick. Her face betrayed nothing, as she now stood before the father and son, Maul dared to look up at her, “Starlight, please, I- I assumed I would have-”

His beloved didn’t seem to be listening, she just crouched down and embraced the two.  She was only doing this for Cress, her silence was worse than her tears.

He was able to tuck Cress into the cot, the poor thing tuckered out from so many emotional upheavals, Maul kissed the child’s cheek before turning away to speak to Y/N who had yet to say a word. He saw her form walking out of the  hanger and onto the sands. Maul took one last look at the cot, Cress would stay asleep. He would, he assured himself  before following his beloved outside.

“Starlight ”

She did not turn, still walking along the shore, not caring as the waves hit her legs, the bitter cold didn’t even make her flinch.

“Starlight, please” he wanted to give her space, he truly wanted to but this silence was deafening. She did not even turn to him.

“Y/N, please!” he reached for her, Y/n ripped her arm from his hold and headed for the water. The sizable waves would quickly drag her into its depths, sweeping and pulling into the dark sea. Maul couldn’t allow that.

“ PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!” he had to do it, he pulled her back away from the cold waters , and farther onto dry land.  His arms wrapped around her as he held her to the sands, she pushed as his chest, and kicked at him blindly.  Her eyes were continually spilling with tears.

“Y/N!! STOP!” he found himself  unable to breath, his breath caught in this throat as his eyes burned.

She began screaming at him, her eyes red from crying, “YOU WANTED TO DIE?! IS THAT WHAT IT WAS?!”  

Maul could now feel tears drip down his face, as she continued to scream, each one tearing into him like stab from a saber, “ YOU MADE THOSE DAMNED HOLO-VIDS TO WHAT CONSOLE ME? WHAT WAS I GOING TO TELL OUR SON? OUR CHILD, MAUL? OH AND YOU, YOU DARE ASK ME TO FORGIVE YOU?”

Her screams reduced into broken sobs, she clutched her head the pounding of her heartbeat once again blocking out the waves, there was no serenity here,  “YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE CRESS ALONE. HOW COULD YOU PLAN ON THAT?”

In perceptive of  all the occurred, Maul couldn’t answer with the steps he had taken, all he knew was his reasoning for this, “ I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” his voice sounded feeble struggling to answer the accusations that he was guilty of, “ You and Cress had to be safe that is all I wanted, even if I couldn’t be with you.”

The galaxy outside of this planet was in anguish, planets and families being torn and the Jedi all but gone, any force user or any associations to them were being extinguished, he held tighter onto his beloved,  “If they found you, Y/N. Death would be the least of our concerns.” If the Empire found Cress, he shuddered at the thought.  

His starlight was no longer fighting him she just stilled in his arms, “ I thought you were dead,” she breathed,  “In that moment I wanted you dead for what you did.”  

Maul did not blame her, his actions had caused so much pain for the only two souls he loved, it was inevitable.

“ And you have all the right too.” he whispered, Letting his arms release her and fall onto the sandy beach, with each movement the sand slipped from his hands and began to bury him, “ Just tell me now, send me off if you have to Y/N,” he had but one request before she did this, “ Just let me say goodbye to Cress.”

Y/N went quiet before whispering, “Send you off?”

“ What i did to you both is unforgivable, I don’t deserve either of you, everything we built it gone, I couldn’t keep you safe. Just allow me to say goodbye to my son please. Cast me aside it will be fine but please let me say goodbye to him.”  That child had to know he loved him, that everything he was trying to do was to protect him even if he failed miserably.

Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her shoulders shaking from the cold air and the gravity of what he had suggested, “ You can’t go,”

Maul no longer felt that he was being buried alive, “Y/N,” his voice dared to allow some hope slip in.

“ He needs you, he loves you,” her voice was sad, “But Maul..”

“ Yes, my Starlight?” again that hope in his voice.

“ I do not forgive you, I can’t.” 

It shattered in an instant, Maul deserved it.

They sat there for some time, watching the waves, “ He’ll wake soon.”  Y/N  stared out horizon unable to see the line between sea and sky, it was all blurred.

“Yes, he always searches for one of us. “ he was watching her, at least she hadn’t sent him away, as long as he was near it was enough. “ We should go back,”

He stood up and offered her his hand, Y/N shook her head and stood up, she brushed off the sand and began to move back to the ship, Maul right behind her.

Cress was still asleep, his small face serene. “It’s been a while since he’s slept like that. “ Y/N brushed Cress’s face, a small smile finally gracing her face.

Maul nodded, “ He’s very sensitive to others around him,” the pair watched over thier son, forgiveness would be a long journey, but one thing was assured Cress would have them both.  

#dad!maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul x you #maul x you #star wars X reader #star wars X y/n #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #cloudsdrabbles #what do you mean that's a sad note to end on #darth maul #maul

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Drive Me Crazy

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: The aftermath of your night together. The premiere of The Perfect Match. Will Ben ever let you tell him how you feel?

Warnings: Angst city but it’s worth it, drinking, swearing, idiots who won’t communicate, the usual.

Words: 8392

A/N: So here we are. The end. Kind of. I've still got an epilogue planned and a chapter of moments from Ben's POV but this is the last of the main chapters. I've had an absolute blast writing this story and I am so proud of it and so happy to have gotten this far in it. I hope you enjoy it.

Taglist:  @laedymoon​​  @dtfrogertaylor​​  @vee-ndetta​​ @atomic-watermelon​​ @kellypenac​​ @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​  @hannafuckingsucks​​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @supersonicfreddie​​ @tenement-funstah @taron-egrotten​​​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​

@coni-martina​​ @hardforbenhardy​​ @cubedtriangle​​ @vicouscirce​​ @arianabrashierstuff​​ @pattieboydwannabe​​ @maggieroseevans​​ @theprettyandthereckless​​

It took you a couple of minutes after you woke up to remember why you weren’t in your bed but as soon as the memory of the previous night hit you, you felt wide awake. A soft knock on the door made you sit up, head flicking towards the noise as the knob turned and the door creaked open a crack. “Oh. You’re up,” Ben said, obviously displeased, closing the door behind him with his foot, his hands both occupied. He must have had the same thought you did, of him kicking the door shut and pushing you up against it, because his cheeks were flushed as he handed you a cup of coffee and a plate of toast, “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake yet but mum insisted I bring you breakfast.” “Thanks,” you smiled despite his cold greeting. “Right, well.” “Hey, do you want to talk about what happened? We didn’t really get a chance last night but ther-” “No. Not here, not now. I’ll be in the kitchen, take your time.” He was gone before you could stop him. You sighed and looked down at the toast, knowing full well you weren’t going to eat it. Even if breakfast had been your most regular meal you were sure you’d be sick if you ate anything. The sip of coffee you had made you feel nauseous enough. How were you meant to tell Ben you loved him if he couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as you? You dumped the unwanted breakfast on the bedside table and got up to start packing. It was easy enough, you didn’t really have that much to find, though your bra had been kicked under the bed in the previous night’s excitement. And the condom wrapper that crunched under your foot, so hastily discarded, sent another pang through you. While you dressed you went over what you wanted to say to Ben. Perhaps he’d soften once you were further away from his family and the scene of the crime. Perhaps the drive would give you time to discuss what you both wanted. With a deep breath you hoped would calm your worries, you picked up the uneaten breakfast and headed for the kitchen. It was empty. You tipped the warm coffee down the sink and put the toast in the compost bin on the bench before poking your head back into the hallway to try to find Ben or anyone else.

A noise from outside caught your attention and you followed it to find Ben, his parents, his brother, and a couple that might have been an aunt and uncle though you couldn’t quite remember. They explained there hadn’t been enough room in the kitchen and invited you to join them. Ben was standing beside you within seconds, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as if he did it every morning. Of course, you knew it was just for show, just because there was an audience to perform for. But that didn’t stop you from savouring it, breathing him in. Then he was telling you to take his seat since he had to shower and pack anyway. You chatted with his family, apologised for not saying goodbye the previous night. Ben had already covered for you, which you found out when his mum waved off your apology and said she understood all about auditions. “Ben always used to be in bed early the night before so I’m not that surprised he insisted on getting you out of the party when he did. Did you sleep okay?” “Yeah, really well.” Lie. Add it to the list. “Good. Wouldn’t want you losing out on a roll because you were yawning too much,” You laughed your agreement and steered the conversation in another direction until Ben emerged again, hair damp, smelling like unfamiliar shampoo. With no spare seat he nudged you to stand, taking your place and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you onto his lap. You smiled as he leaned into your shoulder, trying not to draw too much attention your way lest someone realise your thoughts were stuck on last night, stuck on how he’d felt under you, your palm flat against his chest. Eager hands and harsh breaths, achingly hard, because of you. You blinked back to the present when someone directed a question your way. After a little while Ben checked his phone for the time and, nudging you off his lap, suggested you should leave. Goodbyes were said on the driveway ten minutes later, Angela catching you in a hug and promising to have you back soon, before Ben ushered you into the passenger seat with a reminder that you’d be late if you didn’t leave soon. He tooted the horn as you pulled off down the street and you waved from the window. And then it was quiet. The mood was so different to the trip there. The radio was the only sound but even it was turned down low. You didn’t know what to say. You knew what you wanted to say but not how to go about starting the conversation. Ben kept his eyes glued to the road until you were well away from his family home, as if worried someone might overhear. And then he broke his silence. “Last night was a mistake. I didn’t mean it. Any of it.” “Any of what?” “I’m not in love with you. Never was. It was a mild crush based on physical attraction that got blown out of proportion because we were asked to pretend to date. Last night happened because it had been a while and we’d been drinking. It meant nothing.” You were too stunned to do more than nod along, every word you’d wanted to say disappearing from your mind. It didn’t matter. You were too late. You’d wasted all that time pretending not to care and now that you’d finally come to your senses, he’d apparently come to his too, had the same epiphany but in reverse. It was just a game of make believe taken too far. And you’d let yourself get caught up in it.

The rest of the trip back was torture. If you’d been in a more familiar area you would have told him to pull over and got yourself home, but so far from your usual neck of the woods it didn’t really feel like an option. The one silver lining was that you’d left early enough that the traffic wasn’t too heavy. Not that it made the trip feel any shorter. For his part Ben did seem more open to conversation once he’d got his confession off his chest, but you found it hard to match him, especially since he avoided every topic related to your relationship and the upcoming premiere. The one silver lining was that you’d left early enough that traffic wasn’t heavy. Not that it made the trip feel any shorter. You were still stiff and sad when you got out of the car, a terse goodbye the last thing Ben said before he sped off.

Nothing more was said about it. You didn’t mention how enlightening spending time with his family had been, and he didn’t mention what had happened between you. But you kept in touch, mostly through text. Mary let you know the casting director of the witch movie was interested in seeing you read for the middle witch and you sent Ben an excited message to let him know and ask if he’d help film you. He sent back a congratulations that sounded, to you, less than enthusiastic (certainly, there were less emojis than normal), and an excuse about being caught up with friends. You tried a few more times to engage him in conversation, sending him a photo of your makeshift camera stand that you used to film yourself, and then when that didn’t work, a few memes you’d found funny and a message asking how he was. He replied to all of them and if you’d shown the responses to anyone else they probably would have said you had nothing to worry about, but you couldn’t help feeling they were off somehow. The more you thought about it though, the more certain you were that you should come clean after the premiere. Even if he didn’t love you now, he definitely had before. You remembered what Joe had said about how he was pretending he didn’t feel anything for you. And more than that, you remembered what it had been like when he sobbed on your shoulder at the thought of you hating him, the way he’d whispered I love you against your lips while he was buried inside you, vulnerable and honest. By now you considered yourself pretty well versed in the difference between real and fake and there was absolutely no way he’d been faking those completely raw moments. He was a good actor, but not that good. If you could just get the words out, tell him how you felt, surely that would be enough for him to admit what he’d once felt, hopefully still felt. So, after some back and forth about when would be suitable time to bring it up, you decided that you’d tell him at the afterparty. You’d been sent the details of the night and you’d be by Ben’s side for pretty much all of it. The limo would pick him up first and then you, you’d walk the red carpet together, although some interviews would be done separately, and then you’d go on stage together to introduce the movie before sitting beside each other to watch it. After that you’d leave together and arrive at the afterparty together. It meant you should be able to find the opportunity to get him on his own, pull him aside and just tell him. There’d be somewhere you could go to escape the noise and the crowd and you’d sit him down and force him to hear you out. And then either he’d apologise and say it was flattering but he didn’t reciprocate, or he’d let out a soft thank god before pulling you into a real kiss. Not done because people were watching and expecting it. Done because he wanted to and you wanted to. And then you could tell the studio not to worry about breaking you up. And you could date for real. Go back and visit his family, introduce him to yours and to Felicity, meet his friends, move in together. You shook your head to clear it. One step at a time. No point getting ahead of yourself. You still had to make him listen to you and, if his behaviour so far was any indication, he was going to stubbornly refuse for as long as he could.

The lowest point before the premiere was when Joe messaged you on Instagram. You were surprised at first though on reflection you wondered if you should have expected it. It wasn’t a long message. A simple, can we talk about Ben? followed by his phone number. You called straight away. “Joe? It’s Y/N,” “Oh, wow, that was fast,” You shrugged and then realised he couldn’t see you, “I saw the message come in, figured I might as well call now while I knew you were awake. You wanted to talk about Ben”  “Yeah, it’s….” You hoped he was going to tell you about how madly in love with you Ben was, how he was miserable not talking to you properly, how he was pining for you, wishing you’d come over and kiss him again. “This is a bit of an awkward call.” The hopefulness slipped, creating a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I know what happened between you and Ben.” “I figured you would. How long did he wait to brag or whatever,” “It was hardly bragging, he was a mess. I asked you not to toy with him and then you go and seduce him?” “It’s not like that. I didn’t plan it to happen.” Joe sighed on the other end of the line. “It doesn’t matter anyway because according to Ben it meant nothing.” “He said that?” “Yup,” you wondered how bitter you sounded as Joe paused. “How long before this is all done?” “You mean me and Ben being the tabloid’s sweethearts? Couple of weeks tops. Premiere is this weekend. I wouldn’t expect us to last too long after that.” “Okay, good.” “Is that it?” “Unless you had anything else to say?” You thought about it for a few seconds, seriously considered telling Joe how you felt. He could probably get Ben to hear you out. But who was he to know your feelings? It was bad enough that Ben ran to him with every minor shift in your relationship, why should you do the same? Especially after he’d asked to talk just to tell you off, “Nope. So, if you’re done scolding me,” “It’s a shame. I thought – but I guess not. I can’t wait for all this to be over.” “You and me both.” As soon as you’d hung up you regretted it. But it would be too awkward to call back and ask for help.

The night of the premiere was vastly different from the last time you’d got completely dolled up to go out with Ben. Felicity wasn’t there, though you wished she was. Instead you had a small team of makeup artists and hair stylists ready to spruce you up. Your dress was new, sleek and elegant, and they created a style to match it. If it had been any other week you were sure Ben would have been blown away by the sight of you. His reaction upon seeing you climb into the back of the limo beside him was a stiff complement though the not-as-subtle-as-he-was-hoping once over her gave you was very gratifying, especially when you caught him looking at you, eyes soft and lip held lightly between his teeth, twice more before you arrived at the red carpet. Perhaps there was hope. You certainly wanted to believe there was as you got out and Ben offered you his arm. Together you made your way down the carpet, breaking apart to sign posters and photos for fans, pausing for quickfire interviews, sometimes together, sometimes apart. You talked about who you were wearing and smiled whenever Ben complemented you, returning the sweet words with your own. But there was a tension in the way Ben carried himself, like he was trying to stop himself running away from you and was only barely managing it. And then there was the lack of contact. Where he’d usually grab your hand and squeeze it for support, he instead settled on bumping fingers and pulling away like a teenager on their first date still a little scared of cooties. He didn’t hug you or wrap an arm around your waist as you walked down the carpet, didn’t come any closer than he had to. Even when you stopped in front of a wall of cameras and had people yelling at you to kiss he seemed reluctant. It wasn’t the usual soft, sweet brush of his lips. It was quicker, more self-conscious, like an obligation. Like he’d have gone for a simple cheek kiss if he’d thought he could get away with it. But, if Ben was acting less affectionate, you were acting more so. You found any excuse to touch his arm or lean on his shoulder, any excuse to get a little closer. It was possible you could write his coldness off as stress or nerves about the premiere getting to him, and if that was the case you wanted to be extra warm to make up for it. And even if his demeanour was directly related to a lack of interest in you, it made you feel better to make it harder for him. But it also made you question the sanity of your plan. Was it worth it to tell him? Would you even be able to convince him to join you in a less public area so you could talk? It was an argument you continued to have with yourself the entire night. All the way down the red carpet. As you entered the theatre. Even while you were on stage, beaming at each other as you talked about how proud you were of the movie, how much you’d enjoyed making it and how much you hoped the audience liked it. Watching the film was a slightly surreal experience. You’d seen those expression’s on Ben’s face off set as much as on. The way Andy looked at Edith, the small, shy smile he got when she complemented him, the pleading in his eyes when he was trying to convince her he still loved her, the soft loving gaze as he watched her at their engagement party. You’d seen them all, directed not at Edith but you, Y/N. You wondered if he’d noticed the same things about you. Did your face give away your feelings as much as his did? Had you been looking at him like that without even realising it? You chanced a glanced at Ben, but he was staring resolutely at the screen.

Afterwards you were ushered out of the theatre along with your co-stars, back to the cars. The group split in half, you and Ben leaving with Alfie tagging along. Not that you minded, it made the drive a little more enjoyable than it would have been otherwise. You still weren’t sure what you were going to do and this way you got to escape making a decision for a little longer. But not forever. The car pulled up to a club that had essentially been hired out for the cast and crew to celebrate in. Most people were already there and already a couple of drinks in. You cuddled up to Ben at the first flash of the cameras, hanging off his arm as you headed inside. Now was your chance. The entrance was the quietest part of the building and there was a long corridor that led to a set of bathrooms, completely devoid of other people. If you were going to tell him, that would be the perfect place. But before you could indicate you wanted a private word he caught your arm. “Can I speak to you over here for a sec?” You nodded and accompanied him towards the hallway. The trim was a deep teal colour but the rest of the hallway was one long mirror and for a moment you were distracted by what you and Ben looked like together. “Y/N?” “Yes, sorry,” you said, pulling your focus back to him, “Um, actually, I kinda had something I wanted to say too,” Ben didn’t acknowledge your sentence just bowled on through with his own, “I was going to hold off until later but I don’t want to let something slip after a few drinks or anything like that. I can’t do this anymore. This whole thing was a mistake that I should never have agreed to and I need it to be over now.” “What does that mean?” “Y/N, don’t be difficult.” His sneer was reflected at you from every angle “Who’s being difficult? You know they’re going to break us up in like a week, right?” “Yeah well, that’s too long to wait. I’m breaking us up now. They can still run the story whenever they want to but I am going to tell my parents because I am so fucking sick of Mum asking when I’m bringing you back. And…” he paused as if contemplating the next part, “I don’t think I can see you again, not for a while at least. I need some space to forget this ever happened. I um, I start my new job in a few days so I think they’ll probably use that in the magazines to explain our breakup. And I don’t expect I’ll see you until after it’s finished. If then. So….good luck with that witch movie. Take care of yourself.” He pushed past you back out into the main entry before you could fully understand what had just happened. By the time you found your voice he was gone.

You walked in a daze, out the door you’d only just entered, back to where the cars waited. Your last opportunity, gone. As soon as you were alone in the back of the car you called Felicity. “Are you calling just to brag about how much fun you’re having?” Your voice was steady as you spoke, “Can you come to mine, like, now?” “Aren’t you out at the party though?” “Something happened and I left,” “Honey? What happened, are you okay? Is Ben there?” Hearing his name was like a punch in the gut and you felt your voice shake as it got harder to breath calmly, “No, h-he’s not,” “Okay, I’ll be there in ten.” By the time you pulled up outside the house, she was waiting on the front doorstep with a shopping bag. “I bought ice cream and booze. Wasn’t sure which was more necessary.” “What kind of booze?” you asked as you dug your key out of your clutch, voice thick. “Baileys,” “It’ll do. Think I have something stronger round here as well.” “Here, let me help,” Felicity took the key from your shaking hand and successfully opened the door. As soon as you were inside, she steered you to the lounge room and sat you on the couch. The baileys and tubs of slightly melted ice cream were placed on the coffee table, condensation pooling on the smooth surface. She disappeared for a bit but you, reliving everything Ben had said, only noticed when she came back by the clanking of the spoons on the coffee table. She handed you a glass and you downed half of it in one hit. “Shit, that bad huh? You wanna tell me what happened?” she asked as she took the spot next to you and settled in, legs folded up under her. “I…I think I love Ben,” it was half sob as the magnitude of his words fully hit you. “Isn’t that a good thing though?” You shook your head, trying to keep composed when you realised how much you had to explain. Felicity just looked confused as she took a spoon of ice cream. “It was fake. The whole relationship. All the dates and all the pictures of us and everything was planned out by the studio to drum up hype for the movie.” “Wait, really?” she looked more shocked than you’d expected, “Everything? Even the stuff you told me on the phone?” You nodded, “I didn’t want to keep it from you but there was a contract involved.” “Okay, that’s insane. I had no idea that actually happened! So, all of it was fake?” “All of it. More or less anyway.” “The three orgasms?” “Yeah,” you nodded slowly, not even able to laugh at where her mind went first, “Well sort of. I mean it was only two but it didn’t happened then, it was a bit later and he said…” you broke off again, trying to swallow though your mouth felt completely dry. “Wait, you gotta go back, I’m not following,” “Okay,” you tried to steady yourself but your leg bounced against the floor and your fingers twisted against each other, “The studio set up our relationship and we were just acting the whole time except…except I found out th-that Ben actually did love me,” you had to take another steadying breath, Felicity’s hand shooting out to squeeze your knee reassuringly, “I overheard him on the phone and I freaked out because I didn’t realise I felt the same. I thought it was just the job getting to me and I figured once the studio broke us up it’d be over except then we actually did sleep together for real at his parents place and he told me he loved me during it and I realised I actually do like him and I tried to tell him but he couldn’t even look at me and the next day he said it was a mistake and that he’d never loved me and then tonight he basically told me he doesn’t want to see me again and I don’t know what to do.” by the time everything was out you were breathless and well and truly in tears. Felicity got up to grab you a tissue and when she returned she sat down right beside you, practically on top of you, so you could lean on her shoulder as you cried. Your heart ached at the thought of never seeing Ben again, but Felicity comforted you until you calmed enough to repeat some of the parts she’d missed. Eventually she had enough of a grasp of it to offer some advice. “Why don’t you call him, tell him how you feel?” “You didn’t see how he looked at me tonight. He wants nothing to do with me,” “God he must have been a good lay to make you fall so hard,” You let out a watery laugh at that. “I can’t believe the whole thing was fake and I didn’t pick it. You’re a good actress. Had me completely fooled.” “That was kinda the point. Helped that we both did like each other too. I was just too dumb to see it,” “Nah, you weren’t dumb. It can’t have been easy having to pretend the whole time,” she was silent for a second, stroking your hair, “He’ll come round. You wait, he’ll be calling up tomorrow to apologise for being such an arse.”

But there was no call. Not the next day or the day after or the day after that. You waited, curled up in bed hoping that if you stared at the phone long enough you could force it to ring, but the only calls you got were from Felicity, checking to see if you’d gotten out of bed at all, and one from Mary to go over the details of the break up. Ben had been right, they were going to use his new movie as the catalyst. “Distance is a known relationship killer and Ben is filming outside of the UK so it’ll be easy to sell it as a result of that. Plus, as far as the public know, you’ve had some rocky patches anyway so it shouldn’t take much to convince everyone you’re over.” “Wait, he’s not in London?” “Not from what I’ve heard.” “Do you know where he is?” “Y/N, I’m not his agent.” As soon as you were off the phone you sent Ben a text wishing him good luck with the new movie, but he left you on read. To try and distract yourself you opened Instagram and watched some of your friend’s stories, but it didn’t work for long and you quickly closed the app down. In the first couple of days you’d spent a lot of time scrolling through social media, checking the regular hashtags, seeing what people were saying about you and Ben. To start it had just been a lot of comments, complements and criticism alike, about what you’d worn to the premiere. But gradually the speculation crept in. People could see something was off, even if they couldn’t tell what. Gossip blogs direct messaged you looking for confirmation that you were either still together or, better yet, split up. You saw tweets casting you as the jilted ex, so blinded by love she didn’t see the end coming. Others were sure you had been or would be the one to break it off, sometimes proclaiming it a win for independent women everywhere, sometimes a villainous attack on poor Ben. You stopped looking after that. It just made you more upset and you weren’t sure you could handle what else might be posted. For one thing, you couldn’t remember if there had been photos taken of you fleeing the party not ten minutes after arriving. You had to assume there had been, though at the time you were too distraught to notice. And then there was the idea that someone might have seen Ben pull you aside, might have intended to sneak some shots of you making out in a deserted corridor and instead caught the moment he broke your heart. You definitely wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Just thinking about it sent a wave of despair through you, seeing it would be ten times worse. Not that you had any reason to believe you had been seen but you never knew with these things and it was better to be safe than sorry.

You stuck to your no-social-media guns even after the breakup was officially announced but, unfortunately, all the previous times you’d clicked on article after article, scrolled through tweets about yourself, had impacted things your phone recommended to you and you found yourself being ambushed by photos of you and Ben accompanied by headlines proclaiming the split. The worst came a few days after the news broke when you saw an article about Ben being back in the dating game. According to the website his account on Bumble had been active again for the first time in months. Any notions you’d had about getting over him were proved wrong as soon as you realised what the article was saying. Your chest tightened until you felt like you could barely breathe and the words on the screen began to blur. You sent a link to it to Felicity who called you as soon as she saw it. “It can’t be real, Y/N.” “Why not. We weren’t really dating so what’s to stop him finding someone else now?” “It’s been like three days since it was announced, his PR team or whatever would hate an article like this because it makes him look like a sleezy fuckboy.” “So then it’s not leaked by his people, it’s more likely to be legit.” “Or it’s made up to get hits.” “Maybe he meant it,” “Meant what?” “That he never loved me.” “I very much doubt that.” “How would you know, you never met him,” “No but I saw the photos of how he looked at you,” “Which weren’t real,” “Fine, maybe I don’t know what I’m on about. But you met him, and I’d guess you know him pretty well by now, and to be this torn up about him you must have thought there was a chance he felt the same way.” She waited for you to say something else but, when she was met with nothing but your sniffles she kept talking, “I still think you need to talk to him. Leave him a voicemail if he doesn’t answer.” “I don’t think he’d listen even if I did,” you sighed miserably. “Y/N, honey, I know you’re hurting but you can’t keep waiting for him to call. If you really want to be with him then call him and tell him that. Or forget about him. But either way you have got to stop wallowing like this. I’m coming over tonight and I expect to see you out of bed at least, preferably showered and in clean clothes.”

You’d ended the call just as dejected as when you’d made it, though with the added pain of a headache from crying too much. Slowly you slipped out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen to search for your box of painkillers. Reaching into the cupboard for a glass your fingers brushed over your coffee mug. Distracted from your original goal, you pulled the mug down and stared at it, tracing over the design Ben had painted on it. The purple splatters, the ring, the words. We’re really good at this dating thing. If only you’d realised back then what you felt. You might have actually been with Ben by now. Certainly, if you’d known you would have said something after you overheard his phone call. You’d been standing just a few steps over when you’d heard it, his low voice and the bitter laugh as he told Joe how shit it was to unrequitedly love someone. You hated knowing how right he’d been. But the memory gave you an idea. What you’d said to Felicity was true, she’d never known Ben beyond what he let the public see so she was hardly a reliable judge of character. But you knew someone who did know Ben. Calling him was probably insane. It wasn’t like you were particularly close, and with how your last conversation had ended, it definitely felt more bad idea than good. But, then again, that had been before the premiere, before Ben had gone radio silent, and desperate times called for desperate measures. Quickly, before you could rethink the idea, you picked up your phone and found Joe’s number again.

“Joe speaking,” “Is Ben dating again?” you blurted out. “What? Who is this?” “Sorry, it’s Y/N. Is it true Ben’s dating again?” “Why exactly are you calling me about this?” he sounded completely baffled. “Ben won’t answer or return my texts or anything,” “So naturally you call me. You ever think maybe it’s a hint he doesn’t want to talk to you?” You changed tact, “Do you know where his new movie’s filming?” “Yes but I’m not telling you,” You grunted in frustration. Why was he being so fucking difficult about this, “Look if you just told me I could get out of your hair. There’s something Ben needs to know.” “What sort of something?” “None of your business,” “Okay, well, good luck then.” “Wait!” you paused, listening for the click of the phone being hung up. It didn’t come. “Can I ask one more thing?” “Go on then,” “Did Ben actually love me? At any point?” There was silence for long enough to make you think he’d hung up and then, softly, “Yeah, he did. Don’t tell him I said it, but I think he still does.” “Then can you please just tell me where in the world he is because I need to tell him I love him too and he won’t fucking let me.” “Wait, really?” “Yeah,” “I fucking knew it,” the sound of Joe slapping something in excitement echoed down the line, “I knew it!” “And you didn’t think to let either of us know?” “Well you I’d only just met so I couldn’t be sure. And Ben can be so fucking stubborn sometimes,” “Yeah, tell me about it.” Joe’s laugh was loud and clear, “He’s in Spain. Barcelona to be exact. Give me a minute and I can probably get you the name of the hotel,” you heard some paper rustling, “I fucking knew it.”

When Felicity arrived the next day, she was pleased to see you not only out of bed, showered and dressed, but busily working away at something on the computer. Her happiness slipped into something much closer to disbelief when you told her the plan you’d come up with after your conversation with Joe, but you pointed out that really it was her fault for being adamant that you should talk to Ben. “I can’t just call and hope Ben doesn’t delete the message, I have to make him listen. Otherwise I’ll never know for sure.” “Okay but you know this sounds fucking insane, right? What if he’s not there? What if he refuses to see you?” “Then I come home again as soon as I can and try to move on. Look, I know it’s like completely ridiculous and mad but I have to do something. You’re gonna help me, right?” “Well duh.” The first thing she helped you do was find a good flight. It was a little later than you’d wanted but it took off that night and didn’t stop over in any other countries. You bought a one way ticket just in case Ben wanted you to stay. Once you had it you couldn’t help but laugh. It was fitting, this grand gesture to tell Ben how you felt. The sort of thing you’d expect to see in a rom-com. And considering you’d met on the set of one, had acted out the scene already (though of course, he’d been the one running through the rain to find you in the movie), it made a certain sort of sense that this was what you had to do. Apparently the universe had a sense of humour. The rest of the evening was spent putting the plan into motion, packing a suitcase in the hopes you’d be there at least a little while. Felicity drove you to the airport, talking excitedly about how she couldn’t believe you were actually going to fly to Spain just to talk to a boy. It helped to keep you calm as you oscillated between wishing you could go faster and wondering if this wasn’t a big mistake. When you voiced this out loud Felicity made a frustrated noise, nearly forgetting to break at a red light. “You are not backing out of this Y/N. I swear to god I’ll get on that plane with you if I have to. You’re doing this.” “I know, I know. Thanks,” “It’s what I’m here for. I know how to get my best friend laid.” You snorted your laughter.

There was no need for Felicity to join you on the plane, though she stayed with you until your flight boarded, the nerves only getting stronger. You took your seat and waited for everyone else to find theirs, watching as businessmen and tourists shuffled past you. The two or so hours the flight took was the hardest part. At home you’d had the process of packing and planning to occupy your mind, as well as Felicity’s constant conversation. But on the plane, you had nothing but the entertainment screen and a magazine you’d picked up in the airport. And they could hardly be called distractions. The crossword puzzle at the back of the magazine just reminded you of sitting next to Ben on the flight to New York, the articles made you think about everything that had been published about you over the previous half a year, and the screen seemed to hold nothing but romantic movies designed to make you emotional. You had to grab the sick bag tucked into the seat pouch in front of you at one point, fearing the building anticipation would make you throw up. But you, and the woman in the seat next to yours, were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you landed, vomit free. After that you were moving again, able to focus on each step as they came. Finding a cab, telling the driver where you needed to go, watching the buildings flying past as you drove towards the hotel. You glanced at the time and wondered if it had been a mistake to not wait until morning but the idea of trying to sleep another night without knowing how Ben actually felt was impossible to contemplate. When the cab pulled up outside the hotel you fumbled pulling your card out of your purse, and then climbed out and grabbed your suitcase, hoping it hadn’t just been wishful thinking to pack it. Joe had given you Ben’s room number, so you headed straight for the elevator, counted the floors as you past each one. All of a sudden you were walking down the hall, searching for his room, standing outside his door, knocking on it. There was silence from inside, so you knocked again. More silence. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you contemplated what to do. It was possible he wasn’t in there, maybe caught up with the rest of the cast somewhere. You glanced at the time again. It wasn’t exactly early and there was a do not disturb sign swinging from the door handle, maybe he’d called it a night already and was sleeping peacefully. Third time’s the charm, you thought as you raised your fist to knock again. If he didn’t answer you’d go downstairs and make an enquiry at the reception desk, see if anyone knew if he was in or not. You’d just pulled your hand away again when you heard it, footsteps coming towards the door followed by a deep, familiar voice that said, “I’m coming, I’m coming,”, and then he was tugging it open, mumbling something about not being disturbed. He stopped when he saw you, tired eyes blinking in disbelief, wearing a t-shirt and flannel pyjama pants. Your heart was hammering against your chest as you tried to remember everything you’d planned to say. “Y/N? What ar-” You put your hand over his mouth as your brain kicked back into gear, “You wouldn’t reply to my texts and I didn’t know if you’d listen to any voicemails I left you but I have something I need to tell you so that’s why I’m here. I love you. I didn’t realise it at first but I think I started to feel something after our first date, maybe earlier, I can’t tell. By the time I started to think that maybe I liked you as more than a friend I thought it was just because we were acting like we were in love but then spending time with your family made me realise it wasn’t just pretend, I wanted to be with you. And when we slept together, that just confirmed it for me, I love you. I wanted to tell you that night but you shut me out and then you said you’d never loved me and I didn’t know what to do so I thought I’d wait until after the premiere except then you broke up with me and stopped talking to me and it’s been hell without you. I’ve missed you so much, so fucking much, and all I’ve wanted is to see you again and hear your voice and hug you and I’d really like to date you for real, or at least be friends again because not having you in my life is complete shit.” You stopped and slowly pulled your hand away from him, breathing as hard as if you’d just run a marathon, blinking away the tears that had begun to form. Ben stared at you, lips slightly parted. When he didn’t move, didn’t respond, you began to think you’d made a monumental error, “That’s all I had to say,” you mumbled, already preparing yourself to have the door shut in your face. “Thank God,” he breathed out as he suddenly moved, pressing his lips to yours, cupping your face with one hand as the other pulled your body tight against his. Pure relief flooded your system, as you kissed him back as hard as you could manage, determined to show him exactly how much you felt for him. Together you teetered on the spot, his fingers tight on your waist, yours pressing into his chest and the back of his neck. Even when you stopped kissing you remained standing close enough to see the tears clinging to his eyelashes, both of you breathing hard as you adjusted to the knowledge your feelings were reciprocated.

The creak of a door further up the hallway reminded you where you were. “Are you staying?” he asked softly, closing his eyes, nudging your nose with his. “Is that okay?” “More than okay. I’m so happy to see you.” He broke away for real a few seconds later, though his hand quickly found yours so he could pull you inside his suite. It was nicer than the ones you’d shared in America, bigger, more spacious. Perks of living there for months rather than weeks. You left your bag in the entrance, let him lead you towards the couch. The coffee table was littered with dirty dishes. “Comfort food,” he shrugged when he saw you looking, “I was a fucking idiot.” “Little bit. Can’t say I was much smarter though,” He chuckled at that and followed it up with a sigh, “I’m really sorry for how I acted,” he said softly, frowning a little as he brushed some of your hair behind your ear. You took the seat he offered you, perched on the edge of the couch, unsure how to be comfortable until everything that needed to be said had been. Ben followed suit, taking the place next to yours, your knees pointing towards each other. For a moment neither of you spoke. There was a lot to process, a lot you still wanted to know, and it was hard to work out where to start. Finally you broke the silence, “Why’d you do it?” He understood what you meant, “After that night at my parent’s…. I thought I’d fucked everything up when I said that while we were y’know. After the first time I told you and you nearly ran off, how could you ever want to see me again? And I was so worried I’d never be able to get over you. I thought if I told you I’d never been into you, acted like it, then I could make it true.” “Did it work?” “Of course not,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Which is why I pushed you away. I figured it would be easier to get over you if I didn’t have to see you or act like your boyfriend and I knew I’d be coming here so it seemed like a good idea to make a clean break of it.” You nodded, processing what he’d said. Hesitantly he reached for your hand again, pulled it from your lap, closer to him, so he could play with your fingers. You were happy to let him. Ben stifled a yawn, “Sorry. Promise it’s not ‘cause I’m bored,” You realised just how tired he looked. It was late after all, and he’d probably had a long day filming. You yourself felt pretty worn out too, no longer running on adrenaline and anxiety. But there was still one thing you needed to hear before you could relax. Everything else, all the questions that remained and everything you’d need to discuss, it could all wait until the morning except this one thing. “Has there been anyone else?” “Anyone else what?” “I saw a thing about you dating again,” Ben shook his head, “No. I went out with some mates back in London, before I left, and, um, they tried. Said I’d get over you easier if I hooked up with someone else, but I didn’t want anyone else.” It felt like a weight was lifted and you smiled, let your head fall to his shoulder. He kept running his fingers over yours until he yawned again, “Sorry.” “Long day?” “Not long exactly. Just, a lot, y’know.” “You wanna go to bed?” He nodded and yawned again but he waited until you’d got your suitcase before he stood up, watching you the whole time. He’d clearly been in bed when you’d knocked, the blankets out of place, the lights out, and the TV on with the volume down low. Ben replaced the light from the TV with that from a lamp and readjusted the covers as you ducked into the bathroom to change. When you exited the bathroom you found him sitting up in bed, staring at the door. “You okay?” “Brilliant,” he said softly, giving you a small smile. He shuffled down further under the covers as you climbed in beside him, turned to face each other. There was a moment where he seemed almost afraid to touch you, hand stopping short. You just shuffled closer, caught his hand and placed it around you. “You’re actually here, yeah? I’m not just dreaming it?” “I’m here Ben.” “Don’t leave, okay?” “I won’t.” He took a breath and then said, so softly you might have missed it if the room weren’t so quiet, “I love you,” “I love you too,” With that reassurance he pulled you closer still and gave you a soft, lingering kiss.

Ben fought off sleep for as long as he could, eyes slipping shut and then blinking open again until finally his breathing evened out and he dropped off. It was sweet, his attempts to keep you in sight. You still weren’t certain he wasn’t going to vanish in a puff of smoke either. It seemed unreal that you could be there with him, wrapped up in his arms, with no one trying to catch you on camera. That was something you’d have to talk about before long, the tabloids. For the moment they were preoccupied running stories about your breakup but how long would it be before they sought you out for more? And when they found you together, they weren’t going to just let it go. Even now there was probably someone camped outside your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you with another man or a tub of ice-cream and a box of tissues. How long before they realised you weren’t there? How long before they found out where you’d gone? Ben snuffled in his sleep and distracted you from your worries. It could all wait. You could feel yourself edging closer to sleep, helped along by the steady rise and fall of Ben’s chest, the familiar rhythm of him. A pinging noise cut though the quiet of the room and you realised it was your phone. Carefully, so as not to wake Ben, you extracted yourself from his arms and tiptoed over to your suitcase where you’d dumped the clothes you’d been wearing. Your phone dinged again and then again right as you found it. Y/N, What happened? You have to have arrived by now, did you find Ben? Y/N!!! I’m dying here!!! This silence better be because you’re being dicked down right now BITCH!!! ANSWER YOUR PHONE!!! You laughed quietly to yourself and typed back a quick reply, “I’m with Ben. Been talking. Will call tomorrow.” You’d barely hit send when a new reply came in, “So it worked? You’re together?” “Yeah. For real this time.” You dropped your phone amongst your things and climbed back into bed, snuggling back into Ben’s warm embrace.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #its done #oh god i hope ya'll like it #why tf don't links work on desktop????

[iwrestlenow]

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 14)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: A gift from the past secures the future. Knowledge is our greatest defense.

Or, this time, Logan means it when he says he'll never let go.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: graphic descriptions of violence and death related grossness (i.e., decomposition and fantasy derived nastiness)

There's an epilogue after this, so sorry it's kinda short--and I'm not kidding, guys, shippy bullshit to follow for the next 739 years.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1023, A.A.

Thomas felt a little bit like he was going insane.

Venturing through the deepest of the forgotten sewer tunnels beneath the palace, he shut his eyes and thought of Nico—his unruly curls, his too wide smile, his infectious laughter.

It wasn't his imagination—he heard it echo, somewhere worlds away, bright as the sun.

The grief knotted tight in his chest for an instant before it began to loosen again, bleeding comfort into the raw places in his heart.

They keep the Vigil. He reminded himself. Outlaw wouldn't lie to you.

Taking a deep breath, he quickened his pace.

Once he reached it—a break in the tunnel, where the unfinished pipe sharply cut off into stone and earth, Thomas knelt before the spot where he'd buried the parcel that Outlaw—Josiah Crofter—sent him.

A simple wooden box containing a vial of ashes and a single thread.

“You know what the Vigil is: our funeral rite, our means of keeping the dead alive in the worlds beyond. The Necromata got no souls, so memory's all we have. So we lay their body to rest, and the memories...trinkets, letters, clothing...we give to the funeral pyre. One that never ceases burning.”

Reaching into his belt, Thomas pulled out a dagger.

“When the fire dies, ashes are collected from the freshest embers and kept—and every year, they are added to a fresh pyre. Ashes are collected. The cycle repeats. The fire always burns...so long as the Necromata hold the flint and steel, the Vigil will continue.”

Gritting his teeth, Thomas lay the dagger against his palm, took a breath—and drew the blade against his skin with firm, even pressure.

“But the power of the Vigil is stronger than that. A secret, long kept by our people...that the Vigil don't just safeguard life after death.”

The skin yielded beneath the blade, weeping a garish line of crimson.

“It can safeguard life itself.”

Thomas bit his lip at the sting, but made a fist over the little mound of earth before him.

“The vial I gave you—the embers of your beloved's Vigil, a single thread from the handkerchief you gave me, stained with his blood. Buried 'neath your palace, you join us in the Vigil's keep...offer it blood and a blessing, and the Sacred Souls will let your beloved keep yours in turn.”

He watched his blood hit the dirt, little drops of red catching kernels of earth on their surface.

“The living remember the dead to keep them alive...so it goes when the dead remember the living.”

“For our sons, my love.” Thomas whispered. “For them, and them alone, keep my Vigil.”

The drops of blood sank into the earth so abruptly it startled him.

He heard his husband's laughter again—barely an echo, worlds away.

Even as his tears began to fall, Thomas felt himself smile.

********** 1033, A.A.

THOMAS.

It didn't feel like coming back to life—it felt like remembering.

The heartbeat that eluded his thoughts, the breath that danced on the edge of his consciousness, thoughts and reason and existence that lay just on the tip of his tongue.

A body to live, of course, how had he forgotten? Eyes to open...yes, certainly...

...well, that was a little bit harder. Something was wrong, terribly wrong...

That was when Thomas realized that his body hurt—everything hurt.

“...I may be mortal, but I am still a Weaver...with power over life and death.”

Somehow, over the sudden din, Thomas heard the choked sound of someone unable to breathe. It was a sound he vaguely recognized—a sound that chilled his blood, which already felt strange moving through his veins...chill, sluggish...

THOMAS.

...Nico?...

FOR OUR SON...KEEP THE VIGIL.

Thomas finally managed to open his eyes, head slowly rolling to the side.

The first thing he saw was the door of his bedchamber shattering. A hound swiftly followed, a massive creature with glowing blue eyes that made a beeline for one of the royal guard. Half paralyzed, half fascinated, he watched the animal's jaws close around the guard's throat and his head shake, tearing flesh...

Ichor, black and nauseating, spurted from the guard's throat instead of blood.

On the animal's heels came...yes, that was a heart healer, picking through the splintered wood with a look of horror on his face. A mage came to his side, a prison mage from the look of his robes.

He heard swords clashing—a gleeful cry of triumph. Oh, Remus, his beloved slice of chaos personified...

If Remus could bellow like that, however, he could breathe.

Thomas's eyes finally found the middle of the room—a chair, Roman's body slumped in unconsciousness.

THOMAS.

“I know.” Thomas croaked, struggling to sit up. Every one of his joints felt stiff and brittle, his throat sandpaper rasping one face to another.

Still, he got to his feet. Still, he stumbled over to where Roman sat, reaching out a too thin, too gnarled hand to pat his cheek.

“Ro...Ro...Ro—damn it. Roman!”

Roman stirred, his eyes slowly blinking open with a moan.

“...not...Ro...Roman...”

“What? I don't understand...”

Roman's head lolled to one side, his features paling. Thomas followed his gaze...

He knew the soldier—Colonel Mori, the man he'd barred from that young necromancer's presence once he'd realized what had been done to the poor child.

A poor child sprawled on his back—and Thomas couldn't be sure how, but he knew, he felt it in that place within his chest that tingled when Remus learned a new way to blow something up. He knew it in that place behind his brain that lit up when Roman was about to burst into his chambers with some new poem or story.

The part of him branded father strained towards whatever it was within Roman that was branded son, and Thomas knew it was in the wrong body.

“Rest.” he reassured the boy in Roman's body, patting his shoulder. “I'll be back in a moment.”

Straightening, his limbs grew looser as anger swelled in his chest...no, rage.

Rage for the young life that had been stolen. Rage for his son, who lay dying on the ground—rage for a man that he hated for what he'd done to someone Thomas respected and trusted.

Rage, even, for his broken bedchamber door, and the bodies falling all around the room. Rage filled him, revitalized him, resurrected him from the last dying embers of the grave.

Walking up behind an unsuspecting Mori, Thomas reached out and, without a single shred of regret, grabbed the man from behind to pull him close.

“I should have let the executioner do this ten years ago.” he spat in Mori's ear before he gripped his chin in one hand, secured the other at the right angle, and wrenched with a cry of fury that only died when he heard the satisfying snap of bone and sinew.

He swore, as Mori fell, that he could hear another voice alongside his—no longer worlds away, but so close he could nearly smell the bright citrus of his favorite cologne.

“I'm sorry, my love—but today is not our day.” Thomas couldn't stop himself from whispering. “Wait for me?”

Nico's laughter rang right in his ear, clear and true, before it receded back into the worlds beyond the reach of the living once again.

Roman.

Remembering in the absence of two men's anger, Thomas fell to his knees. The body before him was too still, the eyes glassy and distant.

“Roman...Roman, please!...”

“Your Majesty.”

Thomas turned sharply. At some point, the din had died and silence fell heavy over the room. A young cadet knelt beside him, blood and ichor staining his clothing and his cheek. His eyes were wide and haunted.

“No.” Thomas breathed as the cadet looked to the body on the floor and reached out to gently close its eyes. “No, no no no...”

Arms wrapped around Thomas from behind. Tears dampened his neck—blindly, shaking, Thomas reached behind him to run soothing fingers through Remus's hair.

“Logan, he—he has a Claim.” Remus stammered through deep sobs. “He—he can't be dead. Not when Logan can't...when he can't...”

Thomas didn't understand, but as he glanced towards the chair where Roman's body had been slumped, he watched Roman stand slowly, shuffling towards them, and kneel carefully on the other side of Roman's corpse.

“The Claim is bound to flesh, and it suspends when the soul leaves the body.” the necromancer in Roman's body replied—Logan, his eyes cold and hard and nothing at all like his dear, passionate son.

“He wasn't supposed to come for me.” he continued, running a hand over Roman's hair, his voice too flat, too lifeless. “I warned him...”

Logan trailed off, his eyes widening. Something dangerously like hope sparked in Thomas's chest.

Before he could even draw breath, Logan slammed a fist into the corpse's chest.

********** Knowledge.

“Logan, what the fuck?”

Knowledge is how.

Logan planted his palm in the middle of Roman's chest.

He covered his hand with his other, firmly meshed his fingers.

It is our best weapon...and our best defense.

Throwing all his weight behind it, Logan drove his hands into Roman's breastbone, establishing a steady rhythm.

“Logan, you gotta stop...”

“Virgil, move.”

Remus's voice, deafening silence. Logan kept his gaze focused on his hands in Roman's chest, tried to keep his vision clear so he could do it right.

The way Roman taught him, as his brother taught him.

“Stop.”

Remus's voice. Logan stopped.

Roman's chest barely lifted, then sank.

“Go.”

Logan resumed the compressions. A rhythm, a count...

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Stop. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Stop.

The vital breath—a means to raise the dead without magic.

The cycle continued. Logan gave up his soul with every thrust of the heel of his hand, let it fly into the ether, let it burn to nothing and filled himself instead with Remus's brisk instruction, with the drumbeat of the pulse he desperately tried to tattoo into Roman's chest--

“Logan, stop!”

Logan stopped. Someone was coughing, spasming, rolling to the side...

With an animalistic wail of agony, Logan flung himself around Roman, and followed his soul out of his body.

********** When Roman came to, he was hacking, his lungs burning, his whole body feeling...

...he lost the feeling as dizziness overcame him, and he was suddenly holding Logan instead of being held, the smaller man wracked with wheezing, desperate gasps for air. Everything still felt chaotic, off-kilter...

Chaos. The Animator.

This time, when Roman gathered him close, Logan didn't rear back. He burrowed hard into Roman's chest, shaking like a leaf, and clung so hard to Roman's shoulders he was certain there would be half moons left behind of Logan's nails on skin. Holding him tight, Roman surveyed the rest of his father's bedchamber.

There were bodies everywhere, many of them untouched. There was some blood, but most of the black stuff that filled the air with the smell of rotting death had been spilled from bodies under the Animator's control that were so long dead that their blood had turned to sludge—and now that they were inanimate again, in varying stage of decomposition as they lay, mutilated.

The only people left standing were the victors.

Emile and Remy, wrapped around each other, Emile strangely calm while Remy's solid black eyes took it all in with an equally strange, haunted expression.

Virgil and Remus, side by side, kneeling there before him. Virgil was visibly swaying, but Remus looked perfectly serene—blood and ichor dotting his face, smearing his hands, a rock in the middle of the rapids.

Janus, standing in the middle of the room, equally stained by battle and yet no less resplendent for it. By his side, still in animal form was Patton, calmly licking the blood off one massive paw. Janus had his fingers barely stroking Patton's head, and the side of his face layered with scales was spattered heavily with that same combination of red blood and black rot.

As Janus met his gaze and smiled, Roman felt certain in that moment that Janus had surrendered to Patton the human portion of his dual drake's soul.

Then there was his father, just at his elbow—somehow beautifully, miraculously, alive and watching him with a watery smile. He still looked...well, terrible, features still too thin and leathery, his pallor still that of a corpse dessicated by magic, but his eyes were open and sparkling with real, vibrant life.

“Hold on,” Roman breathed as he smiled back at his father and pulled Logan impossibly closer, “don't let go.”

Logan laughed, then hiccuped, pressing his face to Roman's neck. For the first time in ten years, Roman felt himself draw a true breath: free, clear, and clean as Logan clung to him tight and meant the words as he said them.

“I never have. I never will.”

#necromancer au #sanders sides #fanfic #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #logince #dukexiety #moceit #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #this is all the artist's fault i'm just the hapless writer that stumbled across it

[celestialmark]

Solitude - Part Four

Characters: Mark Lee x reader, members of nct 

Category: sniper!mark, mafia au 

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death

Navigation: preview | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue 

Author’s note: surprise surprise! I’ve never written anything so fast in my whole life but I really wanted to give you this before the year ends and as a token of appreciation and gratitude for all the love I and this story has been receiving. hope you have a lovely and safe new year guys! may 2020 be filled with all that you’ve been wishing for! <3 ilysm and I hope you enjoy this chapter! we’re getting so close to the end! 

You don’t stop crying even as Johnny speeds the car away from Mark’s loft. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening, all you know is that Jeno was quick to grab you by the arm and shove you into Johnny’s car. You don’t have the heart to ask what’s happening either, the worst of your nightmares coming to life still taking up your thoughts, and the very cause of your waterfall of tears. You’re crying for a lot of things, for yourself, for all the struggles of fighting for your life all these years, for Mark, who you felt was finally your safe haven, and for the both of you, of how twisted and sick the whole situation is, of the possibility of running away forever just to keep your life.

Jeno, who’s taken the passenger seat in front, doesn’t speak to Johnny who’s focusing on getting you to your unknown destination fast and safe. And you don’t realise the gradual shift of the derelict buildings to the view of the coast outside the window. You’re too busy picking at your fingers, occasionally pinching yourself to wake up from this hell of a nightmare, still in a state of refusal to accept the reality that’s unfolding right under your nose. You only come back to your senses when the car comes to an abrupt stop and that’s when you eventually lift your head up and look outside beyond the tears that obscure your vision.

You’re met by the gentle waves of the ocean crashing onto the shore and from where you sit, you can hear the unfamiliar breeze rushing past, a sound you can only hear by the seaside. Johnny and Jeno are first to hop off the car and you watch as Johnny slowly walks towards your door before opening it.

“Y/n?” he calls out carefully, pulling the door open until it reveals your hunched over figure fully. “We’re here. I promised I’d bring you here, didn’t I?”

Johnny’s gaze on you is tender, his sympathies coming in volumes with how gentle he speaks to you and right now, he’s probably the only one you want to trust, the only one who can comfort you best despite knowing he’s probably involved in all of this mess too.

You unbuckle your seatbelt weakly and step out of the car only to collapse into Johnny’s arms that are already outstretched for you. You hug him tight just as your waterworks begin again, your sobs getting lost in his hoodie. And Johnny hugs you even tighter, using one palm to rub your back up and down, something to let you know that it’s okay even when nothing really was.

When Johnny’s hoodie becomes damp and your sobs have died down slightly, he holds you by the shoulders firmly and pulls you back slightly, ducking his head to meet your puffy eyes. “Okay princess, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” Johnny’s voice is quiet and laced with concern, a worried frown falling on his features.

You’re fingers stay clutching onto Johnny’s clothes as you try to hold his gaze, “Mark.. Mark was the one who shot me.”

Johnny’s eyes widen but it only takes less than a second for the worry in his eyes to return. “I—“

“Johnny— he, he’s out for my life,” you prod. “He’s like everyone else, he wants me killed.”

“Okay okay,” Johnny intercepts, urging you to calm down when he senses your breaths becoming shallow again. “What’s made you think so?”

“A-at the loft, there’s a room full of guns.. Pictures of him with people who were there at the day of my shooting. And and files of me, tracking all my locations,” your legs are beginning to weaken with every recollection of what you saw earlier. “Johnny you were in those pictures too.”

Johnny presses his lips together and says nothing.

“Tell me,” you brave. “Mark shot me that day didn’t he?”

Johnny doesn’t get to answer, his mouth closing just as fast as it opens, when Jeno comes to his side, tucking his phone away in the pocket of his jeans,

“Johnny, we need to head inside.”

“Mark, what the fuck was that?”

Taeyong’s words come out in pure shrill, eyes dark, his whole body rigid as the four boys stand before him. Taeyong closes his eyes as he inhales a big breath, eyes glaring at Mark again the moment they open.

“Yuta said he isn’t willing to make the deal yet, that you and him had some unfinished business of some sort, what the hell is that?”

Mark straightens himself even more than he already has, head held high and gaze fixated on the wall behind Taeyong. “He asked for more than what was agreed on. I couldn’t let him.”

“Well why the fuck not?” Taeyong demands harshly. “We can lose a little to gain so much more. You out of all people, fucking know that.”

Mark balls his hands into fists, feeling all too suffocated in the mess he’s gotten himself into. He finally meets Taeyong’s eyes, “Yuta will keep you running in circles if you keep giving him what he wants. We’re never going to gain anything if we take the bait.”

“And so you straight up disobey my orders because of what you think is right for the whole group?” Taeyong narrows his eyes at Mark, steering away from behind the table until he’s in front of the younger.

Taeyong closes the distance between him and Mark, jabbing a finger at his chest, jaw clenched so tight, “You better fix this. I want that deal whether you like it or not. I’m still your leader and you do as I say. Got that?”

Mark only nods once.

“Pack up, we’re heading back first thing tomorrow.”

And with that, Taeyong leaves.

Jaemin’s shoulders droop immediately, a sigh escaping his lips just as Donghyuck and Renjun do the same. Their attentions instantly shift to Mark who’s now dropped his head to the ground.

“What was that back there?” Renjun asks curiously.

“Yeah, what were you and Yuta talking about?” Jaemin adds.

Mark wishes he could spill everything to his comrades, maybe having their opinions will help his internal conflict and maybe even get a helpful advice or two but doing that would literally be him signing up for even more trouble. He’s about to come up with a lousy lie when the phone in his pocket vibrates, indicating a call.

Jeno speaks calmly on the other line but Mark can tell he’s panicking slightly, his words coming out too close after each another. Mark doesn’t ask questions as soon as Jeno finishes talking, ending the call in a heartbeat and already scrambling around the room to leave.

“I have to go,” Mark mumbles to himself while the three watch him in confusion.

“What? Go where?”

“I’ll see you guys in Korea okay? I’ll explain to Taeyong later.”

“Mark wait—“

Donghyuck stops trying when Mark is already running for the door.

“Something is definitely wrong.”

“Oh my!” A woman, who appears to be in her early fifties exclaim the moment she sees you and your swollen eyes. “What have you done to this poor lady!” She turns to Johnny, hitting at his chest in the process, scowling at him. “What did I say about making women cry Johnny Seo!”

Johnny’s hands fly up to defend himself, “Mum I didn’t do anything!”

The sight warms your heart and you crack a small smile for the first time in two hours. You figure it’s Johnny’s house you’ve just entered, remembering him mention he resided beside the ocean from before, a simple two storey house located not too far from the shore.

Mrs Seo glowers at her son before returning to you, “I’m so sorry for whatever he’s done. I should have raised him better.” She cranes her neck and sees Jeno behind you, “Jeno, what has your doofus of a friend done this time?”

Jeno chuckles, his eyes disappearing as he does so and spares a teasing glance at Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, “Not too sure Mrs Seo.”

You appreciate it all; the way in which Johnny’s mum is able to lighten up your mood somewhat without having a hunch of your current situation, taking off some weight off your chest. Her eyes are warm and kind, a few wrinkles on the edges of her lids to showcase how gracefully she’s aged over the years, and she has a smile that makes you feel at home.

“Johnny prepare a nice warm bath, this lady needs one while I feed her and Jeno,” Mrs Seo instructs and pushes you gently towards the direction of the kitchen and nodding at Jeno after you.

“Yes ma’am,” Johnny salutes before he’s racing upstairs.

There’s already a bunch of dishes and side dishes set on the table when Mrs Seo urges you to sit on one of the chairs beside Jeno. It’s a complete meal and it reminds you of home, of your parents whom you miss so much, especially today. You pinch yourself under the table, trying to suck it all up because there was no way you were going to burst out crying again, not in front of the woman who’s smiling ever so warmly at you, encouraging you to dig in. You swallow thickly and pick up your utensils to begin your meal just as Jeno does the same but not before thanking Mrs Seo.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so rude, I didn’t even introduce myself,” Mrs Seo recalls. “I’m Hazel Seo, Johnny’s mum. And it’s such a pleasure to be meeting such a beautiful lady.”

You smile at her kind words, her hospitality making you feel a whole lot better. “I’m y/n.” If Johnny’s mum knew who you were, she did a really good job at hiding it because she smiles wider and only nods.

“Eat up! Eat up!” She exhorts. “Gosh Jeno you look so worn, what has Taeyong been keeping you up with lately!”

Taeyong?

Mrs Seo grabs Jeno’s cheeks and squishes them, “Your cheeks look so sunken! Where have they gone?” Jeno chuckles as he munches on his food, the most adorable eyesmile making Mrs Seo ruffle his hair.

You eat quietly, occasionally nodding and replying with short responses to Mrs Seo’s attempts at conversation. Any other given day, you would’ve loved to have gotten to know the woman, but today, your energy was running low at an incredibly fast pace. Johnny is the one who navigates you upstairs to the bathroom where your hot bath is waiting and you silently thank Mrs Seo for having such good instincts, seemingly your silent hero for today.

You’re not quite sure how long you’ve been sitting in the water but that’s the last of your worries. Your thoughts are blank and it’s mirrored in the way you’re staring vacantly into nothing, maybe it’s because you have no inclination of what to think anymore, all the possible scenarios and “what ifs” already been played out in your mind countless of times during your journey here. You curl yourself up into a ball, letting your head rest on your knees, allowing a single tear to roll down your cheek for how empty and numb you feel inside and you make a mental promise it would be the last one you will cry, for today at least.

When the sun sets and night falls, Johnny invites you to a bonfire he’s created outside by the beach, but not before draping a light blanket across your shoulders. You sit beside him on the sand as he pokes at the fire to ensure it lasts for a long while. He doesn’t say anything when you lean your head on his shoulder, a contented and shaky sigh leaving your lips.

You can faintly make out the foam of the waves as it kisses the shore, the breeze that blows continuously enough for the knots in your aching muscles to come undone. From this place, you can see the stars so clearly dotted across the sky beside the moon and you’re reminded of all the reasons why you’ve loved the beach all your life in spite of the lack of memory of ever visiting one.

“I know you have burning questions,” Johnny remarks, retracting his hand to rest on his lap when he finishes managing the flames. “But I’m not the best person to ask, y/n.”

“I know, John.”

You lean away from Johnny momentarily when he wraps an arm across your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. He begins to rub your shoulder with his thumb, doing all he can to comfort you in any way possible, knowing how tough of a day it has been for you.

“Rest for now, okay munchkin?”

“I can’t believe you lost her!” Kun growls, ready to swing at anyone within reach. “Such an easy task and you can’t even do it fucking right!”

Xiaojun, Hendery and Lucas cower their heads lower. Everything had been going great, if it wasn’t for Jeno.

“How many times do you have to fuck things up before you can finally do anything right?” Kun snarls through clenched teeth and stops in front of Lucas who’s avoiding his glare at all costs.

“Apologies, Kun.”

Kun’s rising anger pushes him to shove Xiaojun by the shoulders, causing the younger to stumble backwards. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. What can your pathetic apology do?”

“Y/n was supposed to die by our hands ages ago,” Kun exclaims and proceeds to sit on the edge of the table. “But guess what? You scumbags couldn’t even do that much and now she’s in their hands.”

“Can anyone give me an ideal plan of how we can turn your fuck ups into something great?” Kun asks rhetorically, determined to show how incompetent the boys standing before him, are. “Something actually smart? Anybody?” Kun drags his eyes across the three, waiting for a response he knows he’s not going to get.

The heavens must have heard Hendery’s desperate pleas in his head when Sicheng steps in at that exact moment. “Kun stop it already,” he says calmly, traipsing across the room until he’s beside the elder. “I found something.”

Kun throws his hands up in the air and accentuates the relief on his face, rubbing it particularly, in Xiaojun’s face of his incapabilities. “Nakamoto Yuta, also known as, Japan’s leader is looking into making ties with Taeyong,” Sicheng announces, making the three look up from the ground.

Kun scowls at the three for a moment before focusing in Sicheng again, “And it looks like we’re not the only ones who know Y/n is alive. Yuta seems to have the same knowledge too.”

Kun crosses his arms across his chest, brows meeting in the middle as Sicheng continues to speak. “Rather than killing Y/n for the revenge you’ve always wanted, I think we might benefit from her more if we bring her to Yuta ourselves.”

“Yuta is a billionaire Kun,” Sicheng emphasises. “And I believes he’s willing to pay a high price in exchange for Y/n.”

Kun’s eyes darken at that moment, his thoughts already imagining the glory he’ll receive if he acts upon Sicheng’s suggestion. A smirk takes over his face then, rubbing his palms together, a habit he’s always had when he had a plan in mind.

“Bring me Y/n. Bring her to me, alive.”

When you’ve finally fallen asleep sometime after two in the morning, with Johnny insisting he stays with you until he’s sure you’ve fallen into slumber, he zooms downstairs to the kitchen where Jeno is still typing away at his laptop, his glasses, which he only ever wears when he’s required to do a lot of work in front of his screen, sitting on his nose perfectly.

“Any news?” Johnny asks, taking a seat opposite Jeno, taking a sip of his tea which has already cooled down quite a bit.

Jeno shakes his head without lifting his eyes from his screen. Johnny sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “How the fuck did they know about Y/n? Not even Taeyong knows— wait, he doesn’t know, right?”

Jeno shakes his head again, “He doesn’t.”

“Then how come Kun knows about her being alive?”

Jeno pauses the frantic of his fingers typing and takes off his glasses in the process. He rubs his tired eyes before replying, “Not too sure. But I know Kun has always been tailing our backs for as long as I can remember. Donghyuck says it’s got something to do with wanting to always know what we’re up to so they can act before we can.”

“And? Has that done any good for them?”

“No. Because we’ve always been careful with covering our tracks and we’ve always gotten things done before they even found out,” Jeno pauses and purses his lips, “Up until now.”

Before Johnny can speak, there’s a few bangs on the front door. The two exchange uneasy glances before Johnny rises from his seat to check who it is. Not even two minutes later, he reappears in the kitchen with Mark trailing behind him.

“Jeno said you’re coming back tomorrow,” Johnny says to Mark, taking his seat again.

Mark sits down beside Johnny, taking off his jacket and setting it behind him, “I left as soon as Jeno called me. Well? Where is she?”

“She’s just after falling asleep,” Johnny replies. “She’s pretty shaken Mark.”

“Well what exactly happened?” Mark asks hastily, too eager to learn about all the things he’s missed. Worry was an understatement for him.

Jeno clears his throat and stows his laptop aside along with his glasses. Folding his arms on the table, he begins to explain, “Kun’s boys found out about Y/n and were on the way to take her this morning.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense— No one knows about Y/n except me and Johnny— wait, how did you know about Y/n?” Amidst all that’s been happening and the current chaos Mark’s head is in, it’s only dawned on him now that Jeno, in fact, has become aware of you being alive, maybe even way before what happened earlier in the day.

“I’ve always had a hunch,” Jeno starts. “Remember that day you shot her? I carried her to you, Mark. And I knew, I just knew you missed her heart by a mere inch.” Jeno takes a deep breath, recollecting everything he can remember, “And weeks, no, months before that day, you were practicing your shooting so much it was so unlikely of you. I’ve never seen you practice that much... Not even for your previous missions.”

Mark blinks.

“You were practicing to miss, weren’t you?” Jeno concludes.

Johnny plays with the ceramic mug in his hand with his thumb, listening intently to Jeno. Mark doesn’t answer and Jeno takes that as a yes, knowing he wouldn’t answer something like that so openly.

“Is that why, you asked Taeyong to stay behind?” Mark asks carefully.

Jeno’s eyes grow wide for a short second before nodding admittedly. “No one knew about Kun finding out Y/n was alive except for me. I couldn’t come to Japan because,”

“Because you had to make sure Y/n was safe by keeping eyes on Kun,” Johnny finishes off when Jeno hesitates. Jeno lowers his head, as if ashamed of what he’s done, even when he’s done nothing but good. Jeno feels the guilt of having abandoned his comrades during such a critical time to protect someone else but he figures, he regrets nothing in the end, even if it meant Taeyong adding double to his work.

Mark falls in silence as his thoughts come up with the worst case scenarios. He believes you would’ve been taken away by now if it wasn’t for Jeno’s sharp instincts.

“And I did more research,” Jeno continues. “The reason why Kun is after Y/n is because he wants to kill her. Years ago, Y/n parent’s apparently borrowed a tonne of money from Kun too when they were starting off their business. And it turns out, they were never compensated even after the business became successful.”

“Kun has always been out for their lives from the start, for revenge, but we were just always one step ahead, killing them before they could,” Jeno adds. “And now that he knows Y/n is actually alive, he’s going to do everything he can to get that revenge.”

Mark rubs his temples, feeling a dull headache starting to develop. “He’s not the only one who knows y/n’s alive.”

Johnny turns to Mark, “What? Who else knows?”

“Nakamoto Yuta.”

“Great, an even more powerful man to join the party,” Johnny says sarcastically as he rolls his eyes. “Though, not surprised. That man can get his hands on any information he wants.”

“What does he want?” Jeno asks.

“He wants Y/n. In exchange for the deal Taeyong wants,” Mark replies with a sigh, the thought not settling well within him at all.

“Bastards,” Johnny hisses under his breath.

There’s silence for a while, the three too lost in their own thoughts.

“Well what do we do?” Johnny asks not too long after.

Jeno is already grabbing at his laptop and putting his glasses on again,

“I’m on it.”

When the sun begins to rise from behind the horizon, you awake to the sound of Johnny’s bedroom door creaking open. What follows is the soft thudding of feet on the carpeted floor, walking past your sleeping figure on the bed to place a glass of water on the bedside table. It’s Jeno and when he turns, he’s almost startled to see you already staring at him.

“Y/n, you’re awake,” he states lowly, just standing there, appearing to contemplate what to do next.

“Morning Jeno,” you croak lowly and the boy genuinely looks stunned when you call his name and acknowledge his presence.

You sit up on the bed, shuffling to lean your back on the headboard. Jeno sits on the edge of the bed and hands you the glass of water he’s brought. Mumbling a quick thanks, you take a big gulp. Jeno takes it again from you when you’re done, wiping your lips dry with the sleeve of Johnny’s sweater.

“Mark is here,” Jeno says with much caution. “He’s ready to talk whenever you are.”

You nod wordlessly, trying to process it all in, the memories of yesterday’s events slowly sinking in again. Jeno becomes silent with you and you remember the first time you’ve come across him and with how he’s saved your life from people are apparently after you yesterday.

“Jeno, can I ask you something?” you wonder out loud.

Jeno nods.

“You were there, weren’t you? The day I was shot?”

He nods again. “Is that how you know who I am, y/n?”

You nod this time.

“How.. how long have you known?” You ask slowly. “How long have you known I was alive?”

“Since that day,” he replies without a thought, indicating the truth. “I’ve known since that day.”

The compassion Jeno possesses can be felt in his quiet and calm nature and in the way he answers your questions truly, knowing you deserve all the truths you sought for. You feel like you can trust Jeno, thinking back to how he saved you yesteday and from drawing conclusions about him as a person through the conversation you’re holding now.

“Why— why haven’t you told the others? That I’m alive? They want me dead, don’t they?”

Jeno bites his lower lip, mulling over your question in the process but decides to come fully clean. “Mark saved you for a reason y/n. I owe him my life and I felt like that was the least I could do for him, even if it meant going against everything I was asked to do.”

Jeno stands from the bed then and offers you a small smile, releasing a breath. “I know I’m in no place to say this to you, but I hope you hear him out. He’s not exactly one to be so impulsive or disobey Taeyong— whatever his reason is, I hope you do hear him out, y/n. Mark... he’s a good guy.”

You believe Jeno. You really do because you’ve experienced what it’s like to be with Mark yourself. And you’re silently praying whatever he has to say will cancel all that’s happened up until now.

Jeno is heading towards the door when you call for him again, making him turn just before he’s reaching for the doorknob. “Can.. you call Mark?”

Jeno smiles, his eyes forming crescent moons, “Of course, y/n.”

You reach for the glass of water again, feeling somewhat nervous during your wait for Mark. You didn’t quite know what to say but you knew you had to talk to him. Just when you place the glass back in its original place, the door creaks open slightly again and Mark peeps his head in. When you see him, you’re immediately reminded of how much you’ve been missing him up until this point. You’ve missed him so much you can physically feel your heart clench. 

“Can I come in?” He whispers just as the streams of sunlight run past the window panes. 

You nod with a small smile, the relief of seeing him settling in your chest. Above all else, you were still happy to see him again in one piece. You watch him as he reveals himself fully from behind the door, rounding up the edge of the bed until he’s in front of you. You motion for him to sit beside you and when he does, you don’t say anything, letting your eyes take in one good look at him. The days without him have been way too long and you wonder if Mark felt the wait to see each other again to be as excruciating as you found them to be. Mark’s eyes soften when he realises what you’re doing and a sad smile finds his lips, radiating all the way to his eyes that have momentarily lost their sparkle, knowing what was coming next. 

“Mark, I want to go for a walk.” 

Mark nods and rises from the bed, stretching his hand out to you. You blink at it for a few seconds before looking back up at Mark who nods at you encouragingly. You place your hand in his, realising this is the first time you’ve ever got to hold his hand. And it’s everything you imagined it to be, warm and soft under your fingertips, the size of it much bigger than yours and as he envelopes your hand into his, lacing your fingers together, it gives you a sense of security, the feeling of safety washing over you. 

Mark has already draped his leather jacket over you by the time your bare feet come in contact with the sand. Mark hasn’t let go of your hand since and you’re beginning to believe he's missed you as much as he did with the way he's holding your hand so tight in his. The sight in front of you is one to die for; with the sun rising, it’s painting the sky with beautiful hues of oranges, yellows, and pinks, the occasional clouds absorbing the colours to create a magnificent view. The water ahead is glistening with the light the sun provides and the waves are so calm the serenity transcends to your core. More importantly, you’re here with Mark, adding to the tranquility of it all. 

“I’m all ears, y/n,” Mark reassures. “Anything.” 

You other hand finds comfort around Mark’s arm, pulling yourself as close as you can to his body as you both begin to walk along the beach. You tighten your grip around his hand, trying to gather all the strength you needed for whatever truths Mark was about to uncover for you. Taking a deep breath, and when you’re sure you’re ready, you begin. 

“You were the one who shot me, weren’t you?” 

Mark nods with his jaw taught and you have to shut your eyes when you feel your heart break inside, clinging onto Mark even harder. “May I know why?” You continue with endurance you have no clue where you’re getting from. 

Mark clears his throat and turns to you so that your eyes meet, “What I'm about to say, I want you to listen carefully, okay?” 

You see nothing but assurance in his eyes and it makes you nod. Mark tears his eyes off you again, directs his gaze ahead. 

“I’m a part of a mafia, y/n, one that Lee Taeyong leads. Specifically, I'm their designated sniper. Years ago, your parents approached Taeyong and asked for a lend of a lot of money, supposedly money to start up a business he had been working on for a really long time. And with much discussion and negotiation, Taeyong lent your parents a very big sum of money in exchange of a promise that Taeyong would be given back a whole lot more than what he initially had given. Your parents’ business boomed and overnight, they became the country’s richest business people. Taeyong saw that and demanded for what he was promised with but your parents turned a blind eye. And that went on for years and years until Taeyong eventually had enough of it.” 

Mark pauses and gives your hand a squeeze in preparation for what he’s about to say next. 

“Taeyong was furious and he was so set on killing your parents himself but on the night that he set out to do it, they were already dead. Taeyong was the first person to discover their dead bodies in their office and that made him even more angrier because he didn’t get the revenge he wanted. So he turned to have you killed instead. That’s when he asked me to do it, to shoot you on the day of your press conference so that the whole world was there to see you die.” 

It’s all so overwhelming, all of this information, to take in all in one go, but you find it in your heart to be thankful to have Mark relay all of these details to you, grateful to have him here to hold your hand and walk you through everything that’s been kept from you. 

“Then why...” You breathe out, your eyes glistening with impending tears. “Why did you save me?” 

That’s when Mark stops in his tracks in front of you. He lowers his head to meet your eyes, a frown adorning his forehead with his lips pressed together in a thin line. You search his face, your heart picking up its pace with the slight hunch of him revealing something even bigger than he already has, the real reason why everyone’s been up to their eyes lately, especially Johnny and Jeno. Mark takes your other free hand in his and he’s rubbing the back of your hands with his thumb in a soothing manner. 

“I hate that I have to say it to you like this, in the middle of all that’s happening but, I promised you the truth, y/n.” 

Mark lets go of your hands and you think he's crazy when he steps away from you so that he can take off his shirt in this breezy morning. Your eyes inadvertently fall on his toned body, his subtle abs and the perfectly sized muscles on his upper arms for his build. Mark catches your eyes, an unsure smile grazing his lips before he’s turning his back to you. 

And that’s when you see it. 

On the nape of his neck, his mark sits, an all too familiar mark of a dove with a stalk of leaves tucked in its mouth. You know that mark so well because you have one just like it, on the exact same spot on your body. 

Mark is your soulmate. 

“Mark, you’re my..”

“Soulmate,” he finishes as he turns around. “And you’re mine.” 

Mark rubs the back of his neck in a bashful manner, his shirt still clutched in his hand, “And you probably hate me because your soulmate tried to kill you, huh.” 

“How long have you known?” you ask, your mouth hanging open slightly. 

“Good question,” Mark points out and shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Coincidence. Taeyong was making me do research on you so we could stage the perfect kill... and uhh, I was researching photos of you on the internet, and I came across this one particular picture that caught your mark by chance and that’s when I knew.” Mark’s eyes widen when he finishes explaining, “Wow I sound like a stalker— well, technically, I am, I guess?” 

Mark rambles on to himself but you don’t quite hear him when you realise he really is your soulmate; the very person you found yourself wishing would be your soulmate somehow turns out to be exactly just that. Your mind travels back to the days in the loft, all consisting of you and Mark doing and talking about every insignificant thing there possibly is and the relief you felt this morning seeing him. It all made sense. You fall in a debate with yourself then, watching a crooked smile form on his face, whether to celebrate that the person you’ve harboured feelings for, for the first time in your whole life ever is in fact the person you’re fated to be with, or to set that aside to find more answers to the questions eating at you at the back of your mind. 

“Y/n- you have to understand that hurting you was so difficult to do,” Mark starts, taking a step closer to you. “I never wanted to do it and there were so many times I wanted to bail. But Taeyong gets what he wants and I, no, we, all of us practically owe him our lives, me and the boys. So I had to compromise. and that was the best thing I came up with.” 

“But God, if I was given any other choice, I'd never put your life on the line like that,” Mark finishes with an exasperated sigh, desperation threaded in his words. 

This boy is definitely your soulmate. 

“Put your shirt back on, it’s cold,” you blurt out after a few seconds.

Mark does a double take at the shirt he’s clutching in his palm and does what he’s told, noticing the goosebumps that has risen on his skin as a result of the breezes. You continue to stare at him and that only makes him even more scared and worried.

“Y/n, please say something, anything.” 

You open your mouth to do what he says but shut it again when you realise you have nothing. 

“I, I don’t quite know what to say.” 

“Wait— so you mean Taeyong wasn’t the one who killed y/n’s parents?” Johnny reiterates when the four of you are gathered in the dining room sometime in the evening. 

Mark shakes his head, as he fills in Johnny and Jeno with what Taeyong had told him years back in the midst of asking him to kill y/n. “No, but everyone thinks he did.” 

“Kun definitely thinks so,” Jeno mumbles. 

“Who’s Kun?” you pipe up, the desire to learn as much as you can about their world growing bigger than ever. 

“Kun was the one running after you yesterday, y/n,” Johnny explains from beside Jeno. 

“He’s seeking for revenge just like Taeyong is, for the same reasons,” Jeno adds. “Mark mentioned a little about the death threats you were receiving from before?” 

You glance beside you where Mark sits and he nods at you reassuringly, giving your hand a squeeze from under the table, “Yeah. I got one like every day.” 

“They were from Kun,” Jeno announces. “He was out for your family just as much as Taeyong was.” 

“And you know this because?” you trail off trying your best not to offend the person you’re just in the process of getting to know. 

“Research,” Jeno states simply, turning his laptop around so that you could see his screen filled with random codes and information you couldn’t quite decipher with your minimal knowledge. 

“Jeno does all the tech stuff, and finds out any information we ask him of,” Mark whispers, leaning towards you. 

Not only was Jeno kind, he was crazy intelligent too. 

You nod knowingly, staring at Jeno. He definitely looked like the intelligent one. 

“Then, who killed my parents?” You ask wearily as the three exchange unsure glances. 

“Jeno, is there a way we could find that out?” Mark asks, leaning on the table. 

Jeno nods firmly. “I need time.” 

Mark catches your unsure gaze and he silences your doubts with another nod of his head and a small smile. 

Mrs Seo walks in the kitchen then and frowns at everyone, “Why is it so quiet! You boys are usually so rowdy and noisy. Did you fight?” 

Mark chuckles while Johnny rolls his eyes; Mrs Seo always had a knack for getting into their business, “Just talking about stuff, mum.” 

“And yet there’s not a single plate of food on the table.” Mrs Seo looks unamused, her distaste mostly directed towards Johnny who only shrugs, “You’re a such a bad host Johnny, I really thought I taught you better.” Johnny sighs. “Get up and help me prepare dinner.” 

Mrs Seo doesn’t leave before giving Mark a hug from behind, “So glad to see you Mark. I hope you come and visit more often.” She turns to you then, “And you as well, y/n, it’s so rare for another girl to be in this household, it’s a breath of fresh air— not that I hate having the boys over, it’s great.” And with that, she whisks Johnny away. 

You can’t help but smile, feeling all too warm with Mrs Seo hospitality in spite of the short amount of time of having known each other. “You guys seem to be really close to her.” 

Mark nods with a grin, cheekbones showing. “She’s practically everyone’s mum. We came to visit almost every weekend back when Johnny was still—” 

Mark stops himself before he can say anymore just when Jeno looks up from his screen and also because of the banging that’s echoing through the hallways and into the dining room where they sat. 

“Are you expecting someone, mum?” The three hear Johnny ask from the kitchen which is followed by a quick “no.” 

Jeno leaves his seat and goes to check the door while Mark holds his breath, fearing it might someone who’s coming after you. He scoots closer to you and tries not to let his worry show so as not to concern you either knowing you already had enough to think about. 

Johnny and Mrs Seo come back to the dining room just in time the unwanted visitor barges in through the door and pushes past Jeno who can only follow after him helplessly. There stands Taeyong, eyes directly shooting at y/n. Mark rises from his seat. 

“Taeyong!” Mrs Seo exclaims, happiness genuinely obvious on her face to see one of the boys she hasn’t seen since forever. 

“So it is true!” Taeyong spits with a sour grimace on his face. ���Y/n is alive— Mark how could you!” He tries to advance toward Mark who by now is standing beside Johnny as he shields you behind him. 

Jeno’s reflexes kick in and stops Taeyong by encircling his arms around the elder. “Mark what the hell! She’s supposed to be dead! I trusted you to kill her!”

You’re hunching over behind Mark when Taeyong unleashes his anger, his words sending daggers to your whole being. “We’ve lost so much because of her family! She has to pay the fucking price!” Taeyong continues his attempts at advancing towards Mark but Jeno is doing a good job of stopping him, digging his heels into the floor. 

“This girl is the reason why we’re going to lose that deal with Yuta isn’t she?” Taeyong snarls. “Isn’t she? Answer me!” Taeyong’s yells are beginning to distress Mrs Seo and seeing him in a light she’s never witnessed before, surprises her greatly. 

“Hand her over to Yuta, simple as! Isn’t that all he asks?” Taeyong yells for the last time and when Jeno’s arms tire, Taeyong escapes and is coming for Mark at an alarming rate and ready to throw a punch or even more if it wasn’t for Johnny. 

Johnny uses all his strength to push Taeyong back. Taeyong stumbles backwards, almost falling to the floor in the process, “Taeyong enough!” You flinch at the volume Johnny’s speaking in. 

“No!” Taeyong fights. “Mark disobeyed me! Y/n is supposed to be dead right now.” 

“Stop it,” Johnny warns again, his voice a lot more lower but a lot more threatening, “Right. Now.” 

“And I fucking said no— I’m going to kill her myself—” 

“Fuck, was killing Ari not enough for you?!” 

The room falls silent in an instant. You ears perk up at the name and when you peek from behind Mark’s shoulder, Johnny is frustrated, his chest heaving and his eyes glowering, a huge contrast to his usual self. 

“This is not about Ari,” Taeyong replies lowly through clenched teeth and dismay taking over his features. 

“Of course it is!” Johnny exclaims, walking towards Taeyong and hastily jabbing a palm on his shoulder. Taeyong avoids Johnny’s eyes as he speaks, “Taking one innocent life was enough.” 

“You know that was an accident,” Taeyong says lowly. 

“Accident or not, it still happened and why?” Johnny stops, resting both his hands on his hips, trying to calm himself down, “Because of your fucking greed, that’s why.” 

At that moment, it all dawns on you. 

Ari.. Johnny’s soulmate was killed by Taeyong.

“If you hadn't been so greedy for money and for revenge, you wouldn’t have shot her so carelessly a year ago.” You feel the pain in Johnny’s voice and it breaks you in two. How could someone so outgoing and happy as Johnny hold so much inside without saying anything?

“If this is still about her being your soulmate—” 

“This is way more than just her being my soulmate! For fuck sake Taeyong, you took away an innocent life! A clueless, innocent life who was just getting her life started! And you’re out here living the same old life, ready to do the exact same thing you did.” 

Taeyong suddenly claps his hands out of nowhere, a sarcastic smile etching on his face, “Oh so there it is! There it fucking is. You want me to go to jail! That’s it, isn't it? You speak it like you haven’t committed a single crime your whole life, Seo.” 

“Of course I want you in jail! You killed the love of my life for goodness sake. But hell, if you’re going to jail, we might all as well put ourselves in jail right?” Johnny’s chest never ceases on heaving, mirroring the anger and disgust he’s been suppressing for a whole year, for a year too long. Taeyong doesn’t stop either, his glare only intensifying with each passing second. 

“All I’m saying is, I’m not letting you kill y/n,” Johnny states with so much conviction despite his voice coming down a notch quieter. “You’re going to have to kill me first before you do that,” 

“I’m not letting your greed win, ever again.” 

Deciding it was best for you not to stay in Johnny’s house any longer, for fear of Kun’s guys discovering your whereabouts and with the uncertainties of Taeyong’s next move, you find yourself in front of a familiar house, one you’ve spent making a lot of your childhood memories in. Mark is standing right beside you while Johnny and Jeno wait in the car, parked just outside the gate. 

Mark looks uneasy as you press the doorbell, the faint ringing inside the house it causes reaching your ears. You twist your body a little to give Mark a small smile, “You always tell me to trust you. I want you to trust me this time.”

“I always trust you,” Mark mumbles. 

You roll your eyes, “You don’t seem it right now.” 

“I—” 

The door swings open at that moment and the person behind it blinks hard once and then opens his eyes wider than you have ever seen. 

“What the hell— Am I dreaming? Or am I seeing a ghost?” 

Mark leans towards you and whispers, “You sure about this?” 

You jab at his side with your elbow and clear your throat, putting on the biggest smile at the sight of your best friend for as long as you can remember. “Taeil!” 

Taeil blinks hard, again, “Shit— she speaks too.” 

“Taeil, stop it,” you say, unamused. “It’s me y/n, and yes, I’m alive.” 

“Holy— what, how?” 

“Can I come in first?” 

It takes you two hours to tell Taeil everything without missing any information, and another hour of convincing him how everything’s come down to the current situation. Mark sped off with Johnny and Jeno the moment he made sure you’re safe inside Taeil’s home. You try so hard not to smack Taeil in the face when he stares at you for too long, his big eyes ogling at you, still convinced you’re not real. 

“Taeil I'm alive, stop staring at me like you want to eat me.” 

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say. “It’s just, the news blew up with your assassination you, know? You were the headlines for a whole week y/n, of course it’s no brainer that I'm still stunned to see you. Like shit, I was grieving over the loss of my best friend who’s actually alive?” 

You feel sorry for him then, the grief that flashes in his eyes reminding you how much of a tough few weeks it has been for him too. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this. Like I though I was going to die. For real.” 

“If it wasn’t for your knight in shining armour, AKA your soulmate,” Taeil teases with a wink, nudging you as he wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Who also happens to be the one who attempted to kill me, let’s not forget that,” you reply as a matter of fact. 

“But did you die though?” Taeil shrugs and leans back on the couch, “Dunno, he seemed like a pretty nice guy to me.”

“Who also happens to be a sniper, Taeil,” you remind him. You hit his arm with the back of your hand, “Who’s side are you on anyways?” 

“A sniper who purposely missed his shot, right?” Taeil reiterates before shrugging again. “No one’s side. I’m just saying how your soulmate is literally there, in the flesh. Not a lot of people get that, you know?” 

You give him an incredulous look, “So, you’re on Mark’s side.” 

“Look, the guy is already doing all he can to protect you isn’t he? And he’s going against his leader while doing it,” Taeil responds with a hand motions to emphasise his points. “Do you know how serious it is to go against your mafia leader?” 

You shake your head, challenging him, “I don’t. Do you?” 

Taeil shakes his head, “I don’t either. but I’m guessing it’s pretty serious if he went apeshit crazy in front of you all.”

You let your head fall back on the couch, shutting your eyes as you groan, “Taeil you’re literally no help.” 

“What’s gotten you in a twist anyway?” Taeil asks as he turns his body to face you, leaning his head on his hand that’s resting on the headrest of the couch. “You don’t like him?” 

You open your eyes and stare at the white ceiling, “I do. So much it’s ridiculous.” 

“Well then?” 

“Just.. With everything that’s been happening, I'm not quite sure how to feel just yet. Him being my soulmate just doesn’t change the fact that he’s under someone who wants me killed, you know? And you know me, I’ve been fighting for my life since forever. He almost killed me, Tae. And I just can’t get that out of my head,” you finish off with a heavy sigh, your internal conflict becoming too suffocating. 

It takes Taeil a few seconds to come up with something to say and you’re preparing for it because the thing with Taeil was that he was the logical one between the two of you, always giving you a blow whenever you voiced your concerns to push you in the right direction and today was definitely no different. 

“Why are you so focused on what he’s done in the past?” He asks. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on everything he’s doing now to make things right?” 

Taeil’s words for sure ring in your head for the rest of the night, the very reason you can’t seem to fall asleep. You dwell on it over and over again, coming up with lousy reasons to in attempts of countering what he said, but it appears that with every attempt, you find more points that back up Taeil’s advice. Maybe Taeil is right. Maybe you’re focusing too much on what happened before. After all, Mark was doing all that he can to protect you now, even going as far as looking for the real people behind your parents’ death. 

But you don’t expect those words to be the last you’d ever hear from Taeil because he wakes up the next morning with a loud thud from downstairs. There’s a sick feeling pitting at the bottom of his stomach when he leaves his bed in a hurry and it’s only a testament for what the sight that greets him next. Taeil wakes up to furniture strewn all over his house, reams of papers scattered around the floor, broken glass shattered everywhere in all directions and his first instinct is to check your room. 

Taeil is fast to dial Mark’s number. 

“She’s gone.” 

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