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edenesth · 17 hours

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Midnight Fiction

Pairing: Wooyoung x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 10.4k

Summary: One restless night, craving an escape from reality, you and Wooyoung lose yourselves to the captivating realms of your favourite fantasy worlds. Together, you traverse through the wonder of Narnia, the magic of Middle-earth, and the enchantment of Hogwarts.

A/N: Just a random little self-indulgent oneshot inspired by ILLIT's Midnight Fiction, song's been on repeat for me. These images have been flashing through my mind whenever I listen to it, so I'm taking this chance to experiment with writing The Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter AUs.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Don't you just hate it when you're caught in that limbo of feeling too cold without a blanket and too hot with one? Don't you just hate it when you lie in bed for what feels like an eternity, teetering on the edge of slumber, only to snap awake again? Don't you just hate when your room begins to feel stifling from restlessness, leaving you searching for that elusive perfect spot on your bed?

Don't you just hate it when it feels like the whole world is asleep while you're wide awake? You do, don't you?

Fortunately for you, tonight, you weren't alone in this plight. The person lying beside you, your best friend, your soulmate, your better half—your everything—seemed to be stuck in the same predicament.

"Trouble sleeping, love?"

In an instant, the weight lifted as you turned to gaze at the love of your life, awake beside you. "Yes, Woo, but at least I'm not alone," you whispered, smiling. He smiled back, extending an arm towards you in invitation. You pouted, your heart brimming with affection for this man, and immediately shifted into his welcoming embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

He sighed contentedly, tightening his hold around you, and peppering your face with tender kisses. "Perhaps sleep isn't on the agenda tonight. What do you say we find another way to pass the time?" His playful grin met your curious gaze.

You chuckled softly. "And what mischief do you have in store, my dearest Mr. Jung?"

With a playful boop to your nose, he grinned. "Would you care to embark on an adventure with me, my lady? Somewhere far from this suffocating room, perhaps?"

Bursting into a fit of giggles at his playful imitation of old-fashioned speech, you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back, you played along, "Oh, you present such an irresistible offer. How could I possibly refuse, my lord?"

He bit his lip, feeling his heart melt at how swiftly you caught on. Wooyoung had always been an exuberant individual, often overwhelming others with his energy and antics, but never with you. You were the sole person in the world who truly understood him. You shared the same interests and personalities, the only disparity being that you were a slightly calmer version of him.

If soulmates existed, he was certain you were at the other end of the red strings of fate binding him to you. You had to be.

Pressing his lips to yours once more, relishing the closeness, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. "Well, come on then, love. Let's not waste any time. Adventure awaits us."

You squealed in delight as he leapt out of bed, swiftly yanking the sheets off you and exposing you to the cool air. With a playful tug on your leg, he pulled you into his arms as you steadied yourself against his chest, adjusting to the sudden movement after hours of lying still.

"I hope you're ready, my lady."

"You bet your ass I am, sire. Let's do this!"

"Seriously, Woo? This is the adventure you were referring to? A place far from our suffocating bedroom?" you asked incredulously as he swung open the doors to his absurdly large wardrobe in the spare room of your shared apartment. It was where your boyfriend housed his prized collection of branded apparel, insisting on keeping them separate from his everyday wear.

He flashed you a cheeky grin, flicking on the torchlight he'd brought with him and shining it upwards towards his face in the classic fashion of someone about to tell ghost stories. "Oh, come on, this could be fun. It'll be like seven minutes in heaven."

You snorted at his suggestion, watching as he crawled into the space, carefully shifting aside his hanging clothes. Crossing your arms teasingly, you quipped, "With a whole apartment at our disposal, why do we need to squeeze into a tiny space for some fun?"

Once settled inside, he extended a hand to you. "Don't pretend you're not thrilled about this. I see right through you. Come on, love," he urged, and your façade melted away like chocolate. With a grin as childlike as his, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to draw you into the cramped space.

Amidst endless giggles, you squeezed your way in beside him. When he finally managed to shut the doors, you turned to him eagerly. "Okay, so what now?"

"Now, let the magic begin," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss. You sighed contentedly, running a hand through his hair as you kissed him back. But before the romantic moment could fully unfold, true to his nature, Wooyoung reached around your waist and began to tickle you. You shrieked, pulling away to playfully slap him. "S-stop it, you menace! I sh-should've known!"

As you tried to push him away from you, you found yourself instinctively scooting back. But instead of feeling the familiar barrier of the wardrobe's end, you noticed an unusual expanse of space behind you. "W-wait, Woo! S-something's not right—" Before you could finish your sentence, a loud gasp escaped you as you felt a cold touch on your back.

What in the world.

Finally, your boyfriend ceased his actions, freezing in his spot with wide eyes. Following his gaze, you turned your head and felt your breath hitch at the unbelievable sight of a winter wonderland before your eyes.

Swiftly, he rolled off you and helped you up to your feet, clad in bedroom slippers, both of you taking tentative steps into the snow. Your gazes met in wide-eyed astonishment as the chill of this new world immediately embraced you. "Woo, could we be in...?" you began, while he hurriedly threw on an expensive coat before draping another snugly over your shoulders.

Ensuring you were sufficiently warm, he reached for your hand and led you forward. "Only one way to find out."

Your hearts raced as you ventured deeper into the breathtaking snow-covered forest. Glancing back, you felt relief upon seeing the back of Wooyoung's wardrobe still there. As he squeezed your hand, you followed his gaze, and your face lit up with recognition as you approached the lamppost before you.

Locking eyes with each other, you whispered in unison, "Narnia."

Squealing with excitement, the two of you began to jump around. Your boyfriend started rambling, "Oh my god, do you think we'll get to meet Mr. Tumnus? Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Beaver?"

You laughed and shook your head. "I don't know, but I really hope I get to see King Edmund, at least... or even Prince Caspian, if we're that far in the story already."

He scoffed. "Of course, you'd want to."

You playfully smacked his arm. "Hey! Don't pretend you're not also dying to meet the gorgeous High Queen Susan!"

Feeling a presence, you both turned to find a very unexpected character greeting you upon arrival. Standing before you in all his glory was Aslan, The Great Lion, the creator and one true king of the world of Narnia. Your boyfriend stilled, then pulled you down onto your knees beside him. "It's an honour to meet you, sir. I'm Wooyoung, son of Adam," he said, introducing himself, before introducing you as a daughter of Eve.

Aslan nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome to Narnia; we have been expecting you," he began, catching you off guard.

"You have...?" you asked in disbelief.

The lion confirmed, "Yes, you are both here to fulfil the Golden Age prophecy."

Wooyoung sputtered, "W-we are...? Isn't the prophecy about two boys and two girls, with your help, ending the evil witch's rule?"

Aslan clarified, "That is correct, but you've left out one final thing; it includes two seers who can tell the future. With your help, we will defeat Jadis without a problem."

At that, you and your boyfriend exchanged a knowing smile. Of course, you were both the seers; you already knew how the story goes. Armed with this knowledge, you were equipped to guide them through their quest to defeat the White Witch even more seamlessly than before.

With a graceful motion, the lion lowered himself to the ground. "Now, if you'll both get on my back, we'll head back to the camp where everyone is preparing for battle." Excitement surged through you both, and without hesitation, you climbed aboard. As the journey commenced, you marvelled at the breathtaking scenery around you. With each passing moment, you noticed the snow melting away, a clear sign of Jadis' spell fading and the return of goodness, heralding Aslan's triumphant return.

As you and your boyfriend rode on the lion's back, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you both. It was surreal to realise that you were actually in the magical land you had both fantasised about since childhood. The realisation dawned on you that this wasn't just a dream—it was happening, right now.

Feelings of excitement, wonder, and disbelief mingled within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. But typical Wooyoung being Wooyoung, he couldn't resist his mischievous nature. Sitting behind you, he tightened his hold on your waist and whispered in your ear, "How do you think he'd react if we told him he's fictional?" Your jaws dropped, and you shot him a glare, elbowing him in the gut and causing him to groan. "Now, why would you do that?"

But it didn't take long before you both burst into giggles. Despite his knack for mischief, you couldn't help but be grateful for his presence. You couldn't envision exploring the magical world of Narnia with anyone else but Jung Wooyoung by your side.

As you reached the camp, embarrassment flooded you as all the creatures—centaurs, fauns, and more—stared at you and Wooyoung in your mismatched attire. You couldn't help but feel awkward in your pyjamas paired with your boyfriend's branded coat and bedroom slippers. Before you could dwell on it, everyone began kneeling in greeting as you passed by.

"Welcome, seers of Narnia," greeted the voices in unison as you arrived at the main tent where the four Pevensie siblings stood waiting, your hearts pounded with excitement and nerves. Here you were, finally meeting your childhood crushes. Clumsily, you introduced yourselves before watching the crowd disperse.

Blushing under Peter and Edmund's curious gazes, you were relieved when Susan stepped forward with a chuckle. "Come on, both of you. Let's get you into some proper clothes. We know how it feels; we've been in your shoes on our first day here," she reassured. Wooyoung chuckled in agreement, "Yeah, we know that."

Lucy's eyes widened in awe. "Of course, you're the seers. You must know everything. Tell us, how does it all work?"

Blinking rapidly with pursed lips, you and your boyfriend struggled to find a suitable response. After all, revealing that your knowledge came from books or movies wouldn't be appropriate. Breaking the fourth wall so easily could spoil the adventure and make you both seem uncool. It was best to keep the magic alive, even if it meant inventing some details on the spot.

"Uh, well... it's, uh, complicated," your boyfriend stammered, his mind scrambling for a creative explanation.

Peter cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with his youngest sister. "Not now, Lucy. They must be overwhelmed. We should let them get changed and settle down first."

Nodding in agreement, Edmund gestured to a smaller tent beside Aslan's. "Right this way, please. We've prepared your outfits."

You had to suppress a squeal; the brothers were even more attractive in person. Though this version of King Edmund was still a child and not the king you admired in the later movies, it was still him, and you couldn't help feeling bashful. As if to remind you of who you truly belonged to, Wooyoung slid his arm around your waist. "Come on, love. Let's get changed." It was then that all four siblings realised that unlike them, you were lovers.

Emerging from the tent with Susan and Lucy's help, you felt slightly awkward in the medieval-styled gown, uncertain how to manage its intricate design. Meanwhile, your boyfriend had finished much sooner, dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a tunic. His lively voice echoed from inside the tent as you dressed, likely engaging poor Peter and Edmund with his talkative nature.

As you stepped out, his voice trailed off as he took in the sight of you in the purple gown with your hair braided halfway and the rest left down. Though not extravagant, you knew he found it beautiful; his stunned expression told you that much.

Susan giggled at his reaction, while you blushed slightly. "Shall we have something to eat, and break the ice before we begin our training?" she suggested.

You raised a brow. "Training?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, preparations for the battle against the White Witch's army. I know you're both here as our seers, but it's wise to be ready to defend yourselves too."

Wooyoung nodded in understanding. "Right, well, we'll accept the food then. We'll need our strength for training."

Gathered around a small table on the field, you shared a simple meal, just enough to provide energy for training. Keeping a straight face was a challenge as your boyfriend animatedly spun a tale for the Pevensie siblings about how you both received visions of the future.

"Yeah, it's not something we control. Sometimes it comes in dreams, other times as random visions. It's tricky... a gift and a curse, really," he elaborated.

Struggling to suppress your amusement, you watched as the siblings listened in awe. Concealing your laughter behind a cough, you nudged Wooyoung in the side, giving him a glare and mouthing, "Enough!"

The mood turned serious as Lucy nervously inquired, "Have you seen how this will all end? Will we triumph over the evil witch?" You were aware of the obstacles lying ahead, including Aslan's sacrifice to save Edmund for his earlier betrayal, and the battle feeling like a lost cause. Despite these daunting prospects, you knew you had to offer reassurance to keep their spirits up.

Taking this as your cue to speak, you smiled and nodded at the youngest Pevensie sibling. "Yes, little one. You—no, we—will emerge victorious. The path to victory may be fraught with challenges, but we'll be here to help you every step of the way."

After the meal, the guys geared up to train their sword skills, while the girls prepared for archery practice. Just before joining the guys, Wooyoung pulled you close.

"Have I told you how much I adore the way you talk to children, love?" he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. "Now's not the time for this, Woo; they're waiting for us."

He grinned at the pink blush on your cheeks. "Fine, I'll go if you want me to so badly. By the way, you look beautiful," he whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek before darting off to join Peter and Edmund.

Turning around, you noticed Susan and Lucy snickering after witnessing the exchange, and you couldn't help but bite your lip bashfully. "Come. Off to training, we go."

After hours of practice, you discovered a potential talent in archery. Susan raised an impressed brow. "Huh, you seem quite skilled at this. We were worried for nothing; you'll do just fine on the battlefield."

You beamed. "I sure hope so."

As the girls continued their drills, your gaze kept drifting to the guys training across the river. Despite the presence of the handsome High King Peter and King Edmund, your attention remained fixed on your silly boyfriend who was earnestly attempting to wield his sword. He looked comical, but that was part of his charm.

"You're in love," Lucy's voice snapped you out of your reverie. Flustered, you nodded. "Why yes, little one. I am in love."

Susan smiled, joining the conversation. "So is he. You two look perfect together. Say, how did you meet?"

Your mind flashed back to your first encounter with Wooyoung. He had been at the next table when you were stood up by a blind date, rambling away loudly with a friend. Annoyed, you turned to him, asking, "Will you please lower your voice?! Not everyone is interested in your opinion on love at first sight!" Ironically, that was how he claimed to have fallen in love with you.

Chuckling at the memory, you decided not to share the full story with the girls. Given the temporal gap between your world and theirs, you reckoned they might not grasp the nuances of your relationship with Wooyoung. Instead, you offered a simplified version of how you met, emphasising the humour in the situation. They laughed with you, and soon the conversation shifted back to practice.

As the story progressed, you and your boyfriend grew closer to the Pevensie siblings, guiding them through every challenge just like rewatching the movie. Together, you avoided certain pitfalls and reassured them that everything would turn out well in the end.

On the night before the decisive battle, you would leave to stay with the girls to witness Aslan's sacrifice for Edmund. Wooyoung held you close, knowing that the next time you saw each other would be on the battlefield the following day. "Be careful, love," he whispered, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, returning the sentiment. "You too, Woo. You remember how the battle goes, right? Stick by Edmund's side and ensure Jadis doesn't harm him. Or better yet, get him out of that area. Just don't let her get the chance to stab him."

He grinned confidently. "You worry too much. I'll protect your precious King Edmund, don't you worry about a thing."

You scoffed, slapping him lightly. "I have to go now. I'll see you."

He couldn't resist capturing your lips in a loving kiss before letting you go. "Go, the girls need you," he urged softly.

As Susan and Lucy wept on your shoulders after witnessing Aslan's sacrifice, you held them tightly, offering whatever comfort you could. With tears clouding her voice, the younger sibling questioned, "How can things still be okay after this? He's gone... How can we possibly win the war without him?"

Gently stroking her tear-stained cheeks, you reassured her, "Trust me, he knows what he's doing. This will all work out in our favour. Just you wait and see, little one."

Susan regarded you with her typical scepticism. "Are you sure?"

Your nod was firm. "Absolutely."

Quietly, you watched as they clung to the lion after the enemies dispersed to prepare for battle. As dawn approached, you motioned for them to join you. "It's almost time. Come."

With furrowed brows, they approached cautiously. "Time for what...?"

Your smile was knowing as the ground trembled and the Stone Table shattered, leaving behind only a vacant space where Aslan had been. "For this," you declared, pointing to the now-empty surface.

Their eyes widened in disbelief as Aslan reappeared before them, alive and well. You watched with a sense of satisfaction as he explained his strategy, how he had fooled the White Witch.

Eager to reunite with your lover, you interjected, "Well, let's not waste any more time. We still have one final task: freeing our friends still trapped in Jadis' Castle."

Aslan nodded in agreement. "You're right, seer. We must act swiftly."

After rescuing Mr. Tumnus and the others, you hurried to the battlefield. Upon arrival, Aslan let out a loud roar as if to announce his presence. Spotting Peter engaged in a sword fight with the White Witch, you frantically scanned the area for the second youngest Pevensie and Wooyoung.

Time seemed to slow as the lion leapt down to save the high king from Jadis before ultimately defeating her. Alongside the girls, you raced down the hill to join them. Sharing Susan's concerned expression, you asked, "Where's Edmund and my—"

Peter noticed your worry, eyes rounding in realisation as he dashed off in a direction, with the rest of you following. Arriving just in time, you witnessed Ginarrbrik, the witch's manservant, poised to strike what appeared to be Edmund kneeling beside a fallen figure. Susan swiftly shot the dwarf down with an arrow, prompting you to rush forward.

To your horror, instead of finding the injured king as in the story, it was Wooyoung lying there, clutching his abdomen. Edmund explained, "I'm sorry. I should've listened to him when he told me to run. He shielded me when the witch attacked."

Turning to the youngest, you urgently requested, "Lucy! The cordial from Father Christmas, please!" She handed it over, and you watched anxiously as Wooyoung swallowed a drop. Slowly, colour returned to his face, and he opened his eyes. "Hey, love."

Tears of relief and anger filled your eyes as you hugged him tightly. "Don't 'hey' me! You scared me half to death, you idiot!"

He chuckled and hugged you back. "I thought you were more worried about him. But I saved him, didn't I?"

You tightened your grip on him. "Yes, but not like this, Jung Wooyoung."

"Must you really leave?" Queen Lucy's voice carried a hint of sadness as you and your boyfriend prepared to depart after the royal coronation. You struggled with how to explain to her that your departure signalled the end of this chapter of the story, though you dared not utter those words outright.

Seeing her crestfallen expression, clearly still reeling from Aslan's departure, made it even harder to say goodbye. You offered her a comforting smile and gently patted her head. "I'm sorry, Lu. But we really must go. Our journey isn't over yet."

"But where will you go?" the child's voice quivered with uncertainty.

Your boyfriend's grin was reassuring. "Ah, that's our secret. But rest assured, we won't forget you or the adventures we've shared."

After bidding farewell to all the characters from the first instalment of The Chronicles of Narnia, you and Wooyoung returned to the exact spot where you had entered the world. Hand in hand, your steps slowed as you approached the familiar lamppost that had greeted you upon your arrival.

"So, how was that for an adventure?" Wooyoung asked, breaking the silence as he pulled you close to him.

You melted into his embrace, a smile spreading across your face. "It was amazing."

He smirked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Really? But you didn't even get to steal King Edmund's heart."

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Oh, stop it, you!"

He chuckled, his tone turning slightly more serious. "I guess it was fun being new characters in a story. But wouldn't it be nice to live the main characters' lives instead?"

You gently pulled away, taking his hand and leading him back towards his wardrobe. "I suppose it would be, Woo. Let's go."

Be careful what you wish for; that adage couldn't have been more accurate. As you ventured through the wardrobe with your boyfriend trailing behind, your eyes widened in astonishment when you emerged into a scene completely unlike your shared apartment. Taking in the surroundings, you recognised the breathtaking interior of Rivendell, or Imladris in Elven-Tongue, a place you had always dreamed of from the Lord of the Rings.

"Woo?" you called out, but he wasn't there.

Instead, you found yourself face to face with a mirror, and you gasped at your reflection. You recognised the Elvish features, reaching up to touch your pointed ears and the long hair cascading below your waist. The elegant gown confirmed your suspicions: you were Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar. But if you were Arwen, then that would mean your boyfriend was the Ranger of the North.

That fool... he jinxed it.

Unlike in Narnia, you weren't a new character here. Suddenly, you were hit with a surge of sorrow, as if you were experiencing Arwen's emotions firsthand. Her father's disapproval of her love for Aragorn, a mortal, echoed within you, reminding you of the struggles you faced with your own parents. The memories flooded in, replacing those of Arwen and Aragorn with moments between you and Wooyoung, making the situation feel eerily real. It brought back the times when your parents had opposed your relationship, insisting you deserved someone better.

You immediately realised the part of the story you were in. The War of the Ring raged on, and evil spread throughout Middle-earth. Your father, Lord Elrond, had been urging you to depart for the Undying Lands, a place of safety far from the conflict. However, the thought of leaving your lover, who was on a quest to fight evil and protect Frodo, the Ring-bearer, filled you with reluctance.

Just like in the story, you faced the dilemma of choosing between your immortal heritage and your love for a mortal. The parallels between your situation and that of Arwen and Aragorn were striking, and it sent shivers down your spine. You knew how it went in the tale; she eventually gave up her immortality to be with him. It was almost uncanny how similar it was to your reality, where you had fought fiercely to be with Wooyoung despite your parents' objections, which left you currently with a strained relationship with them.

Standing in the familiar area filled you with a sense of dread. This was the moment where Aragorn would soon depart for battle, and where he would tell Arwen to leave for the Undying Lands for her own good. But now, with Wooyoung by your side, you knew things would be different.

Despite the eerie familiarity of the scene, you felt a newfound determination. As if guided by some unseen force, you approached the spot where Aragorn and Arwen would have their fateful conversation. This time, though, you were ready to make a different choice.

As you approached Wooyoung, your heart raced with fear and urgency. "Woo! Why didn't you come to find me? Were you really going to leave like he did?" The dread you felt wasn't just Arwen's; it was yours too. You realised this when he let out a deep breath and met your gaze with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine.

"You know, maybe your parents had a point," he began, his words cutting through the air. "You are their daughter after all, and that will never change. I'm just another guy you're dating, and guys come and go. Perhaps it's not so rational for you to ruin your relationship with your parents just for an outsider like me. Besides, maybe you do deserve someone much better."

Your heart sank as his words washed over you, and you frowned in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?! We both know what Elrond said to Aragorn right before this scene. Don't tell me that silly little talk really had you doubting our reality?"

He sighed heavily, his expression pained. "But is he wrong, though? Maybe Arwen was a fool for staying... In the end, Aragorn dies of old age anyway, and she continues to live on in sorrow. What if our reality isn't that far off? Maybe it'll only end in pain?"

His words pierced your heart like a dagger, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. The weight of his doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you, threatening to suffocate you. But deep down, you knew that despite the risks and the potential for pain, your love for him was worth fighting for.

Gathering yourself, you took a deep breath to steady your thoughts before speaking. "I understand you might be influenced by Aragorn's feelings, just as I am by Arwen's. But deep down, I know you don't truly mean what you're saying. Regardless, we both know how this story unfolds in the end. If you must go, then go. I'll see you soon. Have fun beating up the bad guys, Woo."

A hush fell between you both as he absorbed your words, his tough exterior crumbling. Regret clouded his features as he stepped closer, reaching for your hands. "Wait, you're right. I... I must have been too swept up in Aragorn's emotions. I'm so sorry, love."

You smiled, gently cupping his face. "You said it yourself, how nice it would be to live the lives of the main characters. Look at how it turned out, huh?" you teased, and he flushed with embarrassment. "God, I'm such an idiot."

You smirked. "You always have been."

He grinned. "Well, now that we're the main characters, perhaps we can reshape the story and make it our own. You've always dreamed of being in Rivendell. Let's use this opportunity to explore the place."

You scoffed, though a spark of excitement ignited within you at his suggestion. "But don't you have to leave for battle?"

He rolled his eyes. "Gurl, Sauron and his army of clowns can wait. Now, come on."

Hand intertwined with his, you dashed through the exquisite halls of Elrond's house. Your heart soared as you absorbed the surreal surroundings, the sight of Wooyoung's reassuring presence ahead of you filling you with joy. This was the very scenario you had dreamt of for so long – being in this fantastical place with the one you loved.

Your steps faltered as you reached what seemed to be the area where the Council of Elrond took place, where the Fellowship of the Ring was first formed.

"We're actually here, holy crap," Wooyoung muttered in amazement.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Is that cooler than the fact that you're Aragorn? Speaking of which, I'm so envious of you."

He raised a brow. "For what? You get to hang around here and look so beautiful all the time while I go out and fight evil."

You nodded. "Yeah, but you get to be with Legolas all the time."

He snorted in disbelief. "Unbelievable... I'm never letting you near him. First, King Edmund, and now the blonde elf."

You pouted. "Pfft, it's not like there's ever been anything between Arwen and Legolas. You have nothing to worry about. Plus, you'll have Éowyn falling at your feet later on. Let's hope you still remember me by then."

He sputtered at that. "In case you forgot, she got rejected anyway."

You scoffed. "Yes, but that was Aragorn. The same can't be said for you."

His jaw dropped. "What—hey! You're the only one for me, no matter the universe!" he insisted as you continued walking, grinning in satisfaction for catching him off guard as you moved on to the next location.

"Ah, this is where that iconic scene took place," your boyfriend remarked as you stepped onto the moonlit bridge, reminiscent of the moment when Arwen handed her necklace, the Evenstar, to Aragorn. It symbolises her love and defiance against her father, signifying her choice to give up her immortality to be with him.

Standing in the same spot as the characters in the movie, you watched as he retrieved the jewellery from his pocket. "Come, my lady. Would you like to recreate that scene?" he asked playfully, holding out the pendant.

Meeting his gaze, you took a deep breath before reciting your favourite line, "I would rather share one lifetime with you... than face all the ages of the world alone."

At that moment, the playfulness faded from his expression, and he sensed a deeper meaning behind your words, a reflection of your genuine emotions toward each other. Recalling a past conversation where you admitted that without him, you might have chosen not to love at all, he was deeply moved. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours, conveying his affection. Pulling back slightly, he grinned, "That has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me. Can you say that to me every once in a while?"

You chuckled, giving him a playful smack on the chest. "If that's what it takes to stop you from annoying me, then yes."

"Hey!" he protested, chasing after you as you ran off to explore other areas of Rivendell.

As you wandered, you recognised the next destination instantly—it was where Aragorn dreamed of his time with Arwen. With a grin, Wooyoung sauntered over and lay down on the futon, attempting to recreate the scene once again. You stood where the she-elf had stood, watching him pretend to wake up.

"I am asleep. This is a dream," he recited Aragorn's words, and you burst into a small giggle. Settling down beside him, you recited Arwen's line, "Then it is a good dream. Sleep," before leaning down to kiss him as she had.

Deep down, you both wished to stay in this fantasy forever, but you knew you had to part for the story to progress. He sighed as you pulled away. "As much as I'd love to keep staying here with you, the war isn't going to win itself. I'll see you at the end of the story."

You nodded, kissing him again. "See you, Woo." He winked as he got up from his spot. "Don't worry, I won't spare Éowyn a glance."

Laughing, you waved as you watched him go.

You anticipated what was to come next, knowing that it was the day when most of the elves in Rivendell would depart for Valinor, the Undying Lands. It was the moment when Elrond would once again attempt to persuade Arwen to go with them.

As you lay on the futon in your room, watching the white curtains flutter gently in the breeze, you prepared yourself for the inevitable. Just as your thoughts turned to your boyfriend, your father entered, speaking in Sindarin, the Elven language. Remarkably, you comprehended every word.

"It is time. The ships are departing for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late."

Oh boy, here we go.

You immediately sat up from your position to respond, "I have already made my choice." Elrond took a step closer to you. "He is not coming back. Why do you linger here when there is no hope?" You gazed up at him, overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your being that were Arwen's, as you answered, "There is still hope."

Because you knew there was.

As he continued his monologue, which you had already heard more than once and knew was coming, it still hurt. His words reminded you that no matter what, choosing to be with Aragorn—or in your case, Wooyoung—would only lead to pain. Tears streamed down your cheeks, his words echoing the sentiments you had heard from your parents when they desperately tried to separate you and your boyfriend, telling you he could not offer you much and that you would only end up regretting your decision.

"There is nothing for you here. Only death," he uttered, and your heart broke despite expecting those words. The words sounded eerily familiar to what you had heard in a different context, where Wooyoung would not be able to bring you everlasting happiness and his perceived incompetence would eventually disappoint you.

No, that's not true...

But you felt a new emotion when Elrond sat down beside you, looking down at you with so much pain in his eyes. You could see he was not ready to lose his daughter. It must have been cruel for him that his daughter was choosing to die and leave his side.

He wiped your tears away gently. "Do I not also have your love?"

For once, you empathised with his feelings and wondered if this was how your parents felt. You used to view Elrond as the bad guy for constantly trying to separate his daughter from the man she loved. Were your parents also like him? Were they afraid of losing you? Maybe they just didn't know your boyfriend well enough and didn't trust him yet to take care of you. You felt yourself crumbling under the weight of these thoughts.

"You have my love, father," you cried as he enveloped you in his arms. Perhaps you were a bad daughter, not for choosing to be with Wooyoung, but for failing to help your parents understand why you chose him.

If you couldn't ease your parents' worries in reality, perhaps you could do it here for your fictional father. You were certain Wooyoung would understand; none of this was real anyway. He was still yours, and you would always be his. Maybe, just maybe here, you could be a good daughter to Elrond.

Joining the rest of the elves and making your way towards the ship to Valinor, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty gnawing at you. Despite your initial determination to stand firm in your decision to pick your boyfriend, you found yourself swept along with the crowd. Just like Arwen, you were heading towards the Undying Lands.

However, unlike her, you didn't have the vision of her child with Aragorn to sway your decision. You already knew how her story ended. Perhaps it was up to you to create a different ending.

Forgive me, Woo.

As the story reached its climax and the victory over Sauron marked the beginning of a new era for Middle-earth, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Finally, it was Aragorn's coronation in Minas Tirith, and Wooyoung turned around excitedly after Gandalf placed the crown on his head. Throughout the events, he had fun experiencing what the ranger did, but his thoughts were consumed by you. Maybe living the lives of the main characters was more burdensome than enjoyable.

After exchanging words with Legolas and anticipating your arrival, Wooyoung turned expectantly, only to find you missing. You did not appear the way Arwen did for Aragorn. The realisation dawned on him with dread—if you weren't there, it could only mean you must have left for Valinor. He approached Lord Elrond, whose expression remained unreadable, and asked, "Did she...?"

As your father bowed his head slightly and offered a pat on the shoulder, Wooyoung's heart sank like a stone. The weight of the realisation pressed down on him: you had chosen to leave. But why?

What had prompted you to go, despite your promise to reunite with him here? Had Elrond's words swayed you? Did they somehow make you see that perhaps your parents had been right all along? You had warned him not to let the emotions of his character overwhelm him, but had you succumbed to them yourself? These questions swirled in his mind, leaving him grasping for answers.

"She hoped you'd understand," Elrond said.

Your boyfriend offered a humourless smirk. "That I'd understand...? I suppose I do."

"Do you really? Tell me what you understand then," your voice chimed in from behind him, causing him to whirl around with wide eyes. There you stood, a mischievous grin lighting up your face. "Surprise, Jung Wooyoung. Did you think I wasn't going to come back to you?" you whispered, prompting him to cup your face tenderly. "You little minx," he muttered before capturing your lips in a loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the crowd.

As you pulled away and embraced him, you caught sight of your father's gaze. The expression on Lord Elrond’s face as he let his daughter go was a mix of love, fear, and vulnerability. It was the look of a father releasing his child to pursue something he didn’t entirely approve of but knew would bring her happiness. He struggled to maintain his composure, torn between his paternal instincts and the desire to see you happy. That night, you eventually broke away from the group bound for Valinor and returned to Rivendell, much like Arwen did. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Wooyoung, and you knew you could never let him go—neither in your world nor in this one.

"You know, I was just thinking... being the main character really isn't all it's cracked up to be," your boyfriend mused as you both lay in the King's chambers.

With your head nestled on his chest, you nodded, "I agree. It made me feel way too much emotion. But... I do think it's time I talk to my parents about us. They're my parents, and you're the love of my life. I can't imagine life without either of you. Hopefully, they'll be as understanding as Elrond was."

He smiled, pulling you closer, "Yeah, maybe we should have made more effort before."

Cuddling closer to him, you continued, "Yes, maybe... but yeah, we've already played the roles of both new and main characters. Perhaps it'd be nice to simply exist in a story without importance just like extras."

He sighed, kissing your head, "That does sound nice... We'll just be spectators, enjoying our place in the universe."

Closing your eyes, you sensed a peculiar shift in your surroundings, almost like you were on a train. When you opened your eyes again, you furrowed your brows in confusion. You were still in Wooyoung's arms, but Middle-earth was nowhere to be seen.

Shaking your boyfriend awake, you felt his body tense beside you as he tightened his grip on you. With a gasp, he absorbed the new setting. Indeed, you were on a train, but not just any train...

The Hogwarts Express.

Locking eyes, you whispered in unison, "We're going to Hogwarts."

As if on cue, the lady pushing the trolley of sweets appeared, her voice chirping, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Before you could decline, Wooyoung swiftly released you and darted forward. "Ooh, yes! Two pumpkin pasties, please! I've always wanted to try them," he exclaimed, rubbing his palms together eagerly.

You tugged at his shirt, glaring, and silently mouthed, "Do we even have any money?" He froze, realisation dawning, and reached into his pockets. With a sigh of relief, he produced some coins. Winking at you, he grinned, "Don't worry, love. I've got this."

As he finished the purchase, he lingered by the door, watching with wide eyes as the lady rolled her trolley to the next compartment. With his jaw dropped in awe, he turned to you, whispering excitedly, "Oh my god, it's Harry Potter! Holy crap, the Golden Trio is in the next compartment."

Rushing back to settle beside you, he handed you a pumpkin pasty and began talking animatedly while stuffing his face, his words muffled, "I recognised that look on him. We're in the fourth year."

You raised a brow, "Goblet of Fire."

He nodded eagerly, "Exactly. The Triwizard Tournament and, most importantly," you both said in unison, "the Yule Ball."

You pondered, "Hold on a second. If we're in the fourth year, then that would mean we've already been sorted. Which houses do you think we're in, Woo?"

He grinned, "Only one way to find out," as he reached for your suitcases from the rack above your seats.

With bated breath, you watched him work on opening them. "Let's hope we're in the same house. It would be funny if you ended up in Slytherin somehow," you remarked.

He scoffed, "No way, I'm a Gryffindor through and through. Wanna bet?"

You shook your head, "No, thank you."

He pouted, "I was going to ask for a kiss if I won the bet, darn it."

You chuckled, "Hurry up, you rascal."

As he opened the first suitcase, he grinned at you, revealing the red Gryffindor scarf along with his uniform. "I told you," he chuckled before moving on to the next one. "Keep your fingers crossed, love," he urged. And you did. When he finally opened them, you couldn't contain your joy at seeing the same scarf along with your robes.

Moments later, the two of you stood in awe at the unbelievable sight of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before your eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you squeezed Wooyoung's hand. "We're here, Woo. We're really here," you whispered.

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "We are."

Before you could continue revelling in the moment, a nearby prefect rolled his eyes. "Move along, you two. You act like it's your first time here," he said with a shake of his head. Your boyfriend tugged you along as you blew a raspberry, muttering under your breath, "Because it is."

Entering the castle, you noticed a crowd gathering by the bridge, evidently anticipating something exciting. Gasping in excitement, you quickly pulled Wooyoung along. "We have to see this! It's the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students."

As the Beauxbatons arrived in their majestic flying carriage and the Durmstrang in their impressive underwater ship, your boyfriend's attention remained solely on you. Sensing his gaze, you turned to share a smile. "That's right, keep your eyes on me just like that. I better not catch you gawking at the Beauxbatons girls when they make their grand entrance later," you teased.

He laughed and drew you close, whispering in your ear, "Don't worry, you're prettier than all of them combined."

Blushing, you looked away. "Pssh, sweet talker," you responded with a playful roll of your eyes, unable to suppress your grin.

But as the girls from the foreign school made their entrance, dancing into the Great Hall later that evening, you couldn't stifle a snort at Wooyoung's reaction. Like Ron, he was clapping enthusiastically, clearly impressed by the display.

Pfft, all men do is lie.

Beside you, Hermione and Ginny exchanged judgemental stares, mirroring your own sentiments. It was hard to contain your amusement as you watched the boys.

When the guys from Durmstrang made their grand entrance, you found yourself staring dreamily ahead, just like Wooyoung had done with the Beauxbatons girls. Thankfully, your boyfriend didn't discriminate; he seemed just as entranced by the dashing and charismatic Viktor Krum as you were.

You burst into giggles when he finally met your gaze with wide eyes. It was his fanboying moment, and you couldn't blame him because you felt exactly the same. You still couldn't believe you were really here with him. Sure, you had already been to Narnia and Middle-earth, but the Wizarding World held a special place in both your hearts.

The next day, seated beside your boyfriend in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, you both observed with amusement as Mad-Eye Moody began his lesson. The students appeared bewildered by his aggressive demeanour and uncomfortable lecture on the three Unforgivable Curses.

Wooyoung leaned in to whisper in your ear, "What do you think would happen if we exposed him as Barty Crouch Jr right here?"

You turned to shush him with a glare. "We're just extras here, so please act like it and avoid drawing any attention to ourselves."

The rest of the class unfolded exactly as you had anticipated, with Harry growing increasingly suspicious of Moody as the professor continued to gulp down his Polyjuice potion. You and Wooyoung exchanged knowing grins, rooting for him.

After class, you both hurried excitedly to the Great Hall, where students interested in participating in the Triwizard Tournament were submitting their names. Settling on a bench, you watched in fascination as the blue flame flickered brightly, students from all three schools stepping forward to cast their papers into the fire.

Your hearts sank when you saw Cedric Diggory eagerly submitting his name. If only he knew the tragic fate that awaited him.

"I suppose there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" Wooyoung asked, his tone heavy with resignation.

You shook your head sadly. "I'm afraid not."

The sombre mood only lasted so long as the Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared with their usual antics, brandishing their ageing potion in hopes of submitting their names to the Triwizard Tournament despite Hermione's reminder that only seventh-years could participate, you and your boyfriend couldn't contain your laughter. True to your expectations, the twins were ejected back from the goblet, sprouting white beards and sparking a playful fight that drew a crowd of onlookers egging them on.

However, the atmosphere shifted when Viktor Krum marched in with his headmaster trailing behind him. You and Wooyoung shared a giggle as the Durmstrang heartthrob locked eyes with Hermione.

Leaning in, you whispered in a hushed tone, "If not Harry, I still prefer Hermione with Viktor over Ron, to be honest."

Your boyfriend feigned offence, pressing a hand to his chest. "How could you? Hermione and Ron are the one true pair."

As the two of you engaged in your heated debate, time flew by and the next thing you knew, Dumbledore entered the hall with most of the students, announcing, "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection." Exchanging a knowing glance with your boyfriend, you both sighed in anticipation. "Oh dear, here we go."

As Dumbledore announced Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric as the champions of their respective schools, you held your breath, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Harry Potter, the boy who lived. "Excellent! We now have our three champions!" boomed Dumbledore, his voice reverberating through the hall before unveiling the Triwizard Cup.

You winced, murmuring under your breath, "Only one more to go."

Beside you, your boyfriend shook his head with a hint of amusement. "Man, if only they knew the Cup was turned into a Portkey, none of that drama would happen."

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "Yes, and then there would be no more story to tell now, would there?"

He snorted softly. "True."

As Harry's name was called out, disbelief swept through the Great Hall. You watched with a sinking feeling as even his friends began to stare at him accusatorily, wondering how he managed to enter his name into the Goblet of Fire when he was only a fourth year.

Your eyes landed on Mad-Eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Jr in disguise, knowing he was behind this sinister plot. Exchanging hopeless gazes with Wooyoung, you both understood that, at this moment, you were nothing more than spectators. There was no action you could take; you were simply here to witness events unfold.

Perhaps, as much as you wish otherwise, some things were simply meant to be. Your boyfriend covered your hand with his, offering comfort. "Since we can't change anything here, let's not stress about it and just enjoy the moment, hm?"

A smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "You're right, Woo."

"There he is—the poor thing."

You both were hanging out in the courtyard, enjoying the calm before the storm of the Triwizard Tournament's first task, when you spotted Harry passing through, looking visibly distressed. Your sympathy for him grew as you remembered the strained dynamics between him and his friends. Ron and the others firmly believed that Harry had somehow entered his name into the tournament and deliberately kept it from them. It was disheartening to see no one on his side, and you felt frustrated on his behalf.

As expected, Draco Malfoy, with his trademark smugness, decided to provoke him. "My father and I had a bet, you see," he said, dropping down from his perch on the tree. "I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in the tournament." His cronies followed suit as he continued, "He disagrees; he thinks you won't last five."

You and Wooyoung watched as Harry retaliated, standing up to the blonde Slytherin with fiery determination. "I don't care what your father thinks, Malfoy! He's vile and cruel, and you're pathetic."

Just as expected, Draco attempted to strike back, only to be swiftly turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, eliciting laughter from the crowd. It was perhaps the only time you agreed with Barty Crouch Jr's actions, the only moment he seemed remotely likeable.

However, the amusement was short-lived as Professor McGonagall appeared to play the role of the good cop, firmly instructing Moody to release the bully from his transfiguration punishment.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco's famous words echoed across the courtyard as he hurried away from the scene he caused. Though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't interfere, his irritated state got the best of him, prompting him to slyly stick out his foot and trip the Slytherin as he passed by the two of you.

"How dare you!" Draco hissed, glaring up at your boyfriend.

Gasping, you dragged Wooyoung away with you, shouting, "Sorry, he didn't mean it!"

From across the courtyard, you caught Harry's eye and saw him nod appreciatively at both of you. Wooyoung beamed, waving enthusiastically before watching him go.

Turning back to your boyfriend, you smacked him lightly on the arm. "You! I can't believe you did that," you chided.

Wooyoung stuck his tongue out playfully. "Well, it sure feels satisfying, doesn't it? Besides, Harry acknowledged us."

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I suppose so."

The next day, you found yourselves seated among the crowd at the stands, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the first task: retrieving a golden egg guarded by a dragon. "Bets, place your bets!" Fred's voice rang out, followed closely by George's enthusiastic calls for wagers. "Bets taken, bets taken here!"

As the twins walked around, collecting bets on who would win first place, you sensed your boyfriend about to place a bet himself. With a disapproving click of your tongue, you shook your head. "It wouldn't be fair when you already know who wins!"

He shushed you with a grin. "All the more reason to place my bet! When else will I ever be this lucky, love?"

Resigned, you gave up and shook your head in mock exasperation.

As you watched the first three champions' attempts with bated breath, your nerves were on edge despite knowing they would emerge unscathed. Sensing your anxiety, Wooyoung took your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You already know how it ends."

With a sigh of defeat, you leaned into his side, seeking comfort in his warmth as he wrapped an arm around you. "You're right, I do know," you murmured softly.

Your thoughts drifted to Cedric, and a pang of sadness washed over you as you remembered his tragic fate. It was difficult to watch him knowing what awaited him, but you found solace in your boyfriend's reassuring presence.

When it was finally Harry's turn, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the task, despite knowing the outcome. Every moment felt tense and fraught with danger, and you held your breath until he emerged victorious, tied with Viktor for first place.

Reflecting on the experience, you realised that being part of the scene was far more stressful than reading about it or watching it in a movie, especially when you cared deeply for the people involved.

As the Gryffindor common room buzzed with excitement and everyone crowded around Harry that evening, who proudly displayed his golden egg containing a clue for the second task, you and Wooyoung hung back, observing from a distance. Amidst the cheering and clamour, you both knew what was coming next.

When Seamus tossed the egg back to Harry, urging him to reveal the clue, you exchanged knowing glances. As he held the egg aloft and asked the crowd if they wanted him to open it, the room erupted in enthusiastic agreement. But you and your boyfriend were prepared. With a shared understanding, you plugged your ears, bracing yourselves for the inevitable shrieking noise.

Oh, you're all going to regret that.

As expected, the piercing screech from the golden egg sent everyone in the common room to their knees, hands clamped over their ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Amidst the chaos, Harry quickly shut the egg, bringing a momentary relief from the ear-splitting sound.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Ron's abrupt entrance, punctuated by his exclamation, broke the tension in the room, casting a palpable awkwardness between him and Harry. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of unspoken tension, until one of the twins intervened.

"Alright, everyone, go back to your... knitting," Fred declared, breaking the spell of discomfort. "This is going to be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."

The crowd dispersed, giving the two friends the privacy they needed to reconcile. As Ron and Harry finally made amends, you and Wooyoung shared a smile, feeling genuinely happy for Harry. For now, at least, things were looking up. And the best part of it all was yet to come—the Yule Ball.

You and Wooyoung exchanged eager glances as McGonagall began the dance lesson to prepare everyone in Gryffindor for the ball. Dancing had always been a fun pastime for the two of you, but now, being able to do it alongside your favourite characters and in your favourite fantasy world filled you with excitement.

As the professor made poor Ron demonstrate a dance with her, eliciting stifled laughter from the onlookers, she finally called out, "Everyone, come together! Boys, on your feet!" The girls eagerly stood up, ready to dance, while the boys groaned, leaving Neville and your boyfriend as the only ones rising from their seats.

"Wow, you're really lucky," Hermione remarked from beside you as Wooyoung made his way towards you. Unlike the others who struggled to find partners, you didn't have to worry. "He's hardly ever far from your side. You both seem genuinely in love."

You nodded, offering a shy smile, "Thank you, I believe so too."

As he pulled you into his arms and started dancing alongside Neville and Ginny, Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "So, what did Hermione say to you?" You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, teasing, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He pouted, drawing his forehead close to yours. "Please, I really would like to know," he pleaded.

You chuckled, giving in to his curiosity. "She said I was lucky to have you, and that we seemed really in love." His playful grin shifted into a sincere one. "Well, she's right about that," he admitted warmly.

You smirked, teasing him further. "To be fair, when is Hermione Granger ever wrong?"

He shrugged, conceding the point. "Hmm, I guess you're right."

The following days were filled with hilarity as you witnessed Harry and Ron's struggles to find dates for the ball. The ginger's dramatic theatrics, particularly after embarrassing himself while trying to ask Fleur Delacour, provided endless entertainment. Meanwhile, poor Harry faced rejection from Cho Chang, who had already accepted Cedric's invitation.

From your corner of the couch, you and Wooyoung snickered at their misfortunes. Eventually, they settled on asking Padma and Parvati Patil. Before you knew it, you were also preparing for the ball. Like magic, you and your boyfriend found your dream outfits in your dorm wardrobe, ready to make a grand entrance at the event.

While your boyfriend had shown you his outfit for the event, you opted to surprise him later in the evening. Inspired by Hermione's iconic entrance, you planned to arrive early and make your own grand appearance without overshadowing her.

Wooyoung waited patiently outside the Great Hall, his heart quickening at the sight of the beautifully decorated winter-themed hall. "Hey, isn't that your girl?" Cedric nudged him, directing his attention to the staircase. Following the Hufflepuff's gesture, his breath caught as he watched you descend, momentarily capturing the crowd's attention with your shy smile.

With graceful steps, you made your way down in an off-shoulder black floor-length dress, adorned with delicate gold patterns that exuded elegance and regality. Unlike others, you chose to leave your hair down, adding a touch of effortless charm to your appearance. Despite having seen you in numerous stunning gowns from Narnia and Middle-earth, you never failed to leave him awestruck with your beauty. Perhaps he was biased, but to him, you were the most captivating presence in the room. And being his favourite colour, black only enhanced your allure in his eyes.

He whispered, "I'm the luckiest man alive, I swear," and you giggled. "Stop it, you," you playfully chided as you fixed his slightly crooked bow. As you did, he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and continued, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful girl here."

You nodded, leaning in to peck his lips before replying, "And you're the most handsome boy here." His cheeky grin widened, and he responded smugly, "I know."

Pulling you gently towards the hall, he said, "Let's go eat before all the dancing starts."

The night passed in a whirlwind of dancing, with Wooyoung holding you close throughout, growing protective whenever he sensed other guys eyeing you. As the event gradually wound down, you found yourselves still on the dance floor, swaying together.

Slowly, a sense of drowsiness began to wash over you. Maybe it was time to return to reality. You knew what would come next in the story, and with the impending challenges and heartaches, you weren't sure you wanted to witness it firsthand. Perhaps it was best to leave the Wizarding World on a high note, with fond memories.

You exchanged smiles with Neville and Ginny, who were also enjoying the moment nearby. Then, you sighed and rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling his reassuring embrace. "Woo?" you murmured.

He kissed your cheek softly. "Yes, love?"

Tightening your hold around his shoulders, you snuggled into the crook of his neck. "I'm tired... I think I'm ready to go home."

He smiled, his heart growing warm at the thought of home as he leaned his head against yours. "Me too. I guess that's enough adventure for now."

Living out his fantasies had been incredible, but perhaps he, too, was starting to feel a bit homesick and ready to return home.

He gently stroked your hair as his eyelids grew heavy. Sometimes, the allure of escaping into fantasy worlds was irresistible, offering a temporary reprieve from the challenges of reality. But as the quiet settled around, Wooyoung knew that no matter how enchanting these worlds might be, they were only temporary escapes.

The surroundings gradually quieted, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the comforting familiarity of your shared bedroom. You were nestled in his arms, peacefully asleep, and he had never felt more relieved. Drawing the covers snugly around you, he felt a deep sense of contentment settle within him.

"Home. We're home," he whispered, finally allowing himself to drift off into a restful sleep, grateful to be back where he truly belonged with you by his side.

This is as good as a compilation of some of my favourite parts from these film series. I know this might not be for everyone, but I wrote this mainly just to fulfil my own fantasies hehe.🙈

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! Are you also a fan of these AUs? Let me know in the comments! <3

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#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #narnia au #lotr au #hogwarts au #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez fic #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot

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muwapsturniolo · 21 hours

Text

✯𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝✯

chris x black earthy/boho!reader

IN WHICH…Y/n finds a peace of mind with her lover, and his two brothers.

WARNINGS: nothing besides smoking.

5 a.m.

It was 5 a.m on a Sunday and Y/n couldn't sleep, her mind racing intangible thoughts. With a sigh she carefully sits up, attempting to not wake up her sleeping boyfriend. She successfully does so and begins moving around the room, gathering the items she would need.

She exits the room once she gathers everything, and walks down the hallway, peaking into the guest room to check on Nick and Matt. They decided to come over with Chris and ended up spending the night. She didn't have a problem with it, always hating being alone.

She found their company relieving.

Seeing that the two are still sound asleep, she continues her trek through the big house. She arrives in the kitchen where she grabs a bottle of kombucha out of the fridge, making her way outside barefoot.

She shudders as the crisp california air nips at her skin, not use to the cold that comes in the early morning, and leaves before it even hits 12 p.m. She takes a seat on her poolside couch and sets up her camera, pressing record before rolling up.

"It's currently 5 a.m. and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come outside and journal while the sun rises." She speaks to the camera softly, her eyes trained on the grinded-up plant in front of her. "The boys spent the night and are currently still sleeping. It was nice having them over, not having to be alone." She lights the joint and inhales the smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.

"I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much, I think it's because I came from a big family and I'm not used to quiet...Granted it's never quiet considering my thoughts are always loud but I digress." She stops talking and flips open to an empty page, starting to write all of her thoughts and feelings down. She leaves the camera rolling, figuring she would just make it a time-lapse with some copyright-free neo-soul music playing over it.

She wasn't a typical YouTuber, never doing big fancy things and showing off. She was a more peaceful and serene one, her videos consisting of her lifestyle and talking about her feelings.

Her videos that have done well so far are her lifestyle vlogs, the main points being her smoking, painting, cooking, and shopping for crystals. It seems as if the viewers also love her monthly vinyl reviews, finding the way she expressed her love for music interesting.

That's how Chris found her.

He was looking for a YouTube video to watch before bed and he saw a thumbnail of hers. She was smoking in the thumbnail, a wall of vinyl's behind her as the title read, "fav vinyls this month".

He won't lie, he clicked on it because she was pretty, but he stayed for her personality and the raw emotions she expressed as she talked about the Fugees.

To say the least he went down a rabbit hole and watched all her videos that night, adding some of her favorite songs to a playlist.

Speaking of the boy...

She turned around hearing the patio door open, a soft smile gracing her face seeing her half-asleep boyfriend making his way towards her. "Why the hell are you up so early? And why did you leave me?" He questions plopping down next to her. "Couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you with my tossing and turning...Why are you up so early?"

"You know I can't sleep without you." He fixes her legs so he can lay in between them, sighing out as his head meets her soft and plush thighs. She smiles softly and runs her nails along his scalp, caressing his face at the same time. "What were you thinking about?" He mumbles when he notices the journal and pen.

She shrugs, "I'm not sure... My mind was just loud." He opens his eyes and looks up at her in worry. She notices and shakes her head, "Nothing bad, don't worry baby." He nods and relaxes back against her body.

The two lay on the couch in comfortable silence as they experience the twilight, listening to the birds chirp as they awaken from their peaceful slumber. The pool rumbles softly as it begins to clean itself, the water rippling due to the vibrations.

"This is nice," she looks down hearing Chris's groggy voice. "Hm?''

"I said this is nice... Laying here and watching the sunrise with you, not having to worry about what the day brings." She hums in agreement and watches as the skies turn from dark blue to hues of pink, purple, and orange.

The sunrise reflects off of the rippling water of the pool, casting a warm glow on the two bodies. Y/n tilts her head back as she basks in the warm rays. It seems as if her thoughts finally quieted down, giving her a chance to be calm.

Chris stares at his girlfriend, his heart swelling in admiration seeing her in her natural habitat. He truly believed she wasn't meant to be in LA. She was meant to be somewhere that had a bunch of greenery, somewhere that had a waterfall right under the sun so she could bask in it like a cat. Somewhere where she could be free and at peace.

"I can feel you staring at me," she looks down at Chris whose face has a hue of red. "Just admiring you. I can't admire my girlfriend now?" She giggles and motions for him to sit up. She pulls him into a soft kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips.

"It's six thirty and you two are already being gross." The couple pulls away and looks at a half-awake Nick, and a sluggish Matt. The two make their way over and sit on the ground in front of the couch. "Shut up, I was enjoying time alone with my girlfriend since you two decided to crash last night." Y/n watches as Chris and Nick go back and forth, their banter not making sense since they are both still tired.

"Can both of you shut the hell up? It's early and you two are bitching for no reason." Matt grunts. Chris huffs before settling back down against Y/n, burying his face in her stomach. He kisses the brown skin before fiddling with her waist beads.

The quad dives into a conversation, not talking about anything important per say but just talking. They soon fall into silence, enjoying the peace before they have to go back to their busy lives. Not long after, Y/n's brown cat Janelle, joins them causing Matt to gasp in excitement.

As he plays with her, Y/n rolls another blunt. "I wish I could do this every day. Your house just makes me feel at home." Nick breathes out.

"That's funny considering I only find it to be homey when you guys are here." She grabs her lighter and sparks the pink wrap, inhaling it before handing it to Chris. She watches as the smoke cascades in the sun, creating shapes of different sizes.

"Wouldn't it be crazy if we all just lived with each other?" Matt voices, his tone light as he plays with the cat.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it...We are always with each other anyway." Nick adds.

"I would like that honestly," Chris eyes Y/n as she speaks, his heart racing at her words. He knows it's too soon, the two of them have only been with each other for 7 months. However he knows she's the one, his family loves her, his friends love her, he loves her. She came into his life and watered him like a plant, helping him bloom into something more.

"Fuck it, let's do it!" Everyone turns to Chris in surprise.

"Huh?"

Chris sits up and turns his body towards Y/n, "Let's move in with each other...I mean you hate living alone and we are always over anyway. Let's move in with each other."

"Are you sure Chris?" Y/n wants to scream and dance in excitement at the thought of her best friends and boyfriend living with her, but the sensible part of her isn't sure. Granted they have been friends for a year but she and Chris have only been dating for 7 months. "Yeah, I don't have a problem living with you, I think it would be great... I want this relationship to go somewhere...I think you're the one for me."

Y/n feels her eyes burning as the salty tears form, slowly descending down her face. Chris chuckles and pulls the girl into him, holding her tightly.

They all sit in silence, letting Y/n get her emotions out.

After a few minutes, Y/n sniffles and pulls away from Chris.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'm in... I want you guys to move in with m-" Before she can finish her last word, she's dogpiled by the three boys, all of them laughing and shouting in excitment.

"Yes! This is so exciting! I'm going to love having a fully decorated house!"

"I get to see Janelle every day!"

"And I get to love on you every day!" Chris pulls her into a deep kiss, ignoring the groans of Nick and Matt.

The two brothers stand up and walk back into the house, leaving the couple alone once again.

They pull away from the kiss, their foreheads touching as they look each other in the eyes, both of their bodies full of love and tranquility.

"I love you," Chris whispers, his voice holding nothing but affection.

"I love you too"

The two lean in once again, their lips touching softly and tenderly.

The sun shines directly in front of them, the camera only able to see the silhouettes of the lovers.

i was in a fluffly mood so i hope yall like it💕

TAGLIST 🍑

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@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

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featherandferns · 15 hours

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guilty as sin?(fic - part 2/2)

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | read part 1 here!

content warning: mentions of sexual content; mentions of parental abuse (drug misuse, physical abuse, neglect, emotional abuse); physical violence (blood) | any questions for trigger warnings, feel free to inbox anonymously

word count: 10k.

blurb: you and JJ start a secret relationship under the radar of your half-brother, John B. But with your life in Colorado becoming more and more unavoidable, and stupid slip-ups as the two of you grow closer, it becomes harder to keep your affair secret.

Daylight brings you out of your sleep, disoriented. You grunt and try to bury yourself deeper into the sheets, hiding from the sunlight. They smell like JJ. It relaxes you like a baby soothed by its favourite blanket. But then you remember what happened, and where you are, and that it’s morning. Sitting up, you glance around the bedroom and yep, this is definitely not my room. You look down to find JJ still sleeping, his face smushed into pillow. He’s on his front, the bedsheets mostly hogged by yours truly, showing his back decorated with scratch marks. A weird sense of pride overcomes you, like you’ve marked your territory. Sighing, you relax back into the bed. There’s a dull ache between your legs and you’re slightly sticky with sweat, but neither is particularly unpleasant. After a few minutes, you decide you can’t take the quiet anymore.

You roll over and prod at JJ’s face.

“Mhm, leave me alone, it’s the weekend.”

“Wake up. I’m bored,” you say.

You keep poking until he bats your hand away. With a long exhale, he rolls onto his side and cracks open an eye.

“Hi,” you smile. It’s hard not. You feel like you’ve slept with a coat hanger in your mouth.

“Hi.”

He reaches out a hand and strokes the side of your face, tucking some hair behind your ears. There’s a sleepy smile growing on his face as he wakes up.

“Sleep okay?” he rasps, voice croaky from want of use.

“Mhm. You?”

“Like a Goddamn baby.”

With another grunt and sigh, he shifts onto his back and reaches blindly for his phone on the nightstand. He checks the time first, and then his notifications, and suddenly he jolts up in bed, wide awake.

“Your brother’s been blowing me up.”

You stomach drops. “What?”

“He’s asking if I know where you are,” JJ says, reading the texts.

“Do you think he knows I’m here?” you worry.

Suddenly the tryst of last night loses its incandescent glow. Reality is there in the morning the same way sun sheds light on all things that happen in the dark.

JJ shakes his head, eyes fixated on his screen. “No, no. He’d have come over.”

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You sit up and gnaw on one of your nails. JJ shuts off his phone and looks at you. “We gotta come up with an alibi.”

“Right. Course,” he nods.

“Um…We can just say that I slept over.”

JJ looks at you like you just suggested to commit a joint felony and skip state.

“Not that I slept over, slept over. You can say you saw shit go down with Tom, you offered to give me a ride back, I was upset and fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. I gave you the bed and I crashed on the couch, and we forgot to text him.”

“I think my phone’s dead anyway, so it’s not even a complete lie. And I did stay over here, so…”

JJ swallows. He nods and starts typing, sending the text. You both wait in pregnant silence for John B to respond. The minute it comes through, JJ reads it aloud.

“Cool. Just wanted to check she’s okay. Thanks for looking out for her.”

The sigh of relief the two of you share sounds rehearsed. As JJ types his reply, a question comes to mind. You’d spent all last night suppressing it, but now it spews out of you like word vomit.

“Is this a bad idea?”

JJ sends the message and shuts off his phone, looking to you. “Is what a bad idea?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between the both of you. “Us.”

“No,” JJ replies, but his expression tells you otherwise. “No. ‘Sides, it’s only gonna happen the one time, right? No harm done. What John B doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Right. Yeah, the one time,” you echo.

JJ nods. “One time.”

Thank God neither of you are on the witness stand: you don’t sound very convincing. What was supposed to be a ‘get it out of the system’ affair might have unlocked some feral part of you that can’t go unfed. You didn’t have an extensive sexual history, but JJ blew all of them and your own psyche out of the water. That isn’t the kind of thing you can just walk away from, especially when you’ll see him every day.

“Just as long as John B doesn’t find out,” you hear yourself remark.

“Yeah. He’s got enough shit going on right now; we just need to be there for him.”

You nod.

“Sides. I made him a promise.”

Frowning, you ask, “a promise?”

“When you first came back to Kildare, I sort of brought up to John B that night at the bonfire, when you went to bed early, that I thought you were kinda cute. But he got ticked off. Told me you were going through a tough time and stuff, and to stay away from you. ‘If you’re a real friend, you’ll stay away from her’, to quote.”

“Yikes,” you mumble.

JJ nods, looking down at his hands. “Yep. Pretty clear message there.”

“Yeah, you really drove it home.”

He thankfully laughs at that.

“I mean, that’s some real Romeo and Juliet shit,” you add, laughing yourself.

He shakes his head. “Shit, I hope not. Don’t really wanna stab myself.”

“No, I stab myself. You just drink poison,” you correct.

“Yeah, I’m still not thrilled about that.”

You snigger and sink back into the pillows propped against his headrest. “I mean, it could be kinda fun, sneaking around.”

JJ raises a brow, lolling his head to the side to meet your gaze. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Little secret hook-ups and stuff…”

“You’re that horny, huh?”

You shove his shoulder, revelling in his laugh. He grabs your hand and presses a quick kiss to your wrist. Then he looks at you, smiles, and it’s almost like a silent agreement. This is not a one-time thing.

“Breakfast?”

“God, yes,” you sigh.

JJ’s kitchen isn’t just messy, it’s unclean. You can understand why: his dad doesn’t scream house-wife energy and JJ is hardly home. He’s also, as hard as it is to admit it, a teenage boy. In the fruit bowl there’s mouldy peaches and bananas which are black. Fruit flies are having a feast, so at least there’s some positives to the pandemonium. The fridge is barren apart from some bacon. He keeps bread in the freezer so at least that isn’t mouldy. You perch yourself on the counter, dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, and watch him cook. It’s domestic and dull and you love every moment. He serves up two bacon sandwiches and passes one to you. Stands between your legs as you eat, one of his hands taking purchase on your bare thigh.

“S’good,” you tell him through your chewing.

“Thanks. Bout as good as my cooking gets.”

“Mhm. I could live off bacon sandwiches,” you say.

JJ chuckles. “Think Kie might have something to say about that. About how pigs are killing the planet with deforestation and treated unhumanely and bla bla bla.”

“I love your passion for political issues,” you sarcastically remark. He pinches your thigh in retaliation. You laugh. It’s simple and stupid and blissful.

When the two of you are done eating, he adds your dirty dishes to the impressive stack in the sink and makes no move to clean them. You follow him back to his bedroom and the two of you get dressed. He recommends you shower back the Chateau and you take it as code for ‘our bathroom is disgusting’. Thankfully when you peed in the dark last night, you were too fucked-out to notice. Once dressed, you tame your hair with a comb in the mirror and let JJ press kisses into your neck. He’s like a koala bear: it’s impossible to keep his hands off you. How the fuck are we gonna sneak around?

“We should head back before John B gets suspicious,” you tell him, placing the comb back on his desk.

JJ nods. He looks mouth wateringly good in his muscle tee. “I’ll take you back on my bike.”

Every minute spent as a backpack on JJ’s bike, you tether yourself to him as closely as possible. Now that the barrier has been broken, everything has come flooding out. Those same feelings that you harboured back in your preteens have only grown with your age. And now he’s here, in your arms, and you don’t want to let go. As the Chateau comes into sight, you know you have to. John B is hanging in the hammock with Kie. JJ kicks out the stand and steps off, as do you, and you both walk over with a safe space between you.

“Hey! Here they are!”

“Hey!” you smile back, waving to Kiara.

“Jeez, you guys took your time this morning,” John B comments.

Before JJ can speak, you say, “yeah, I had one too many last night. Threw up and needed more sleep.”

“Welcome to Kildare,” Kie grins. You laugh and give a mock bow as if you’d passed some unspoken initiation.

“Right, well, I gotta head out. Helping Lou out with some jobs today,” JJ declares.

“Alright man. See you round,” Kiara says, her attention already back on her phone.

“And thanks for taking care of my little sister,” John B adds.

JJ looks down at you. There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he says. “Yeah, no problem. It was fun.”

Asshole.

Then he’s wandering off to his bike, leaving you stranded, having to act as if last night never happened. You head into the house and work on your watercolours. All you can seem to notice is that the colours of the marsh water are the same as JJ’s eyes. The same eyes you stared into as he came apart underneath you.

Shit. This is going to suck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sneaking around was…doable. If it weren’t for the Friday nights, you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope. Even then, the question grew more and more with each clandestine meeting. How long can this last?

Friday nights were spent at JJ’s house. You told John B that you were crashing at Lizzy’s, and JJ made up some bullshit excuse to get out of hanging out with the Pogues on Friday evenings: I gotta help my dad with this thing…The nights were spent tangled in bedsheets, pillow talk breaking up the unsated touching that made up for lost time. Your body is still recovering from the buzz of an orgasm when your phone starts to buzz on the nightstand.

JJ leans over and picks it up. His chest is damp with sweat from the nightly antics. He rolls back over to you and holds out your phone.

“Your mom’s calling.”

“Let it go to voicemail,” you tell him, not sparing it a glance.

JJ does as you say and when the ‘missed call’ notification appears, it’s accompanied by ‘(23)’.

“You ignoring her or something?” JJ asks, alluding to the pile-up of missed calls.

You look to him and shrug. “Or something.”

“What’s going on with all that, anyway?”

Your intestines twist uncomfortably. “What’d you mean?”

“I mean, why aren’t you in Colorado for the summer?”

“I told you. I wanted a change of scenery,” you say.

JJ laughs, unconvinced. “Bull-shit. You haven’t come back here in years, and you’re closer to L.A. than North Carolina. Why not go there? It’s warmer.”

“Hardly,” you say. “And it’s full of fake people. Influencers and tourists. And the traffic is—”

“Think we’re getting off topic?” JJ wonders, raising a brow.

You take your phone off him and clear the notifications, as if washing away your mom’s presence in your life entirely. Sitting up, you shove your hair off your face and dump your phone on the windowsill.

“What does it matter, JJ? So I wanted to come to Kildare again – who cares?”

“I care,” JJ replies. He sits up too.

You snort, irritation tickling at your throat. “What? Cause we’re fucking you think you deserve an explanation?”

He frowns. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“‘Fucking’. Like this thing between us isn’t deeper than that,” he argues.

Swallowing your anger, you sigh and close your eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just…It’s complicated.”

When you open your eyes, they land on your phone. The screen lights up as if on cue, and you know it’s your mom chasing you down for the millionth time. You’re not sure why keep avoiding her, like the problem might go away if you ignore it. It’s like a tumour: leaving it be will only cause it to fester and grow, and be all the more awful to deal with later. But facing the truth is so painfully hard. You lean over and turn your phone off completely.

“I thought John B already told you about it all, anyway,” you quietly say.

“Not really. Only that you were going through a tough time,” JJ replies.

Sighing, you lean back into the pillows.

Finding a small smile, you sardonically ask, “alright. You wanna hear my sob story?”

JJ sniggers but it isn’t mean. He shuffles closer so you can rest against him. His body was always more comfortable than his bedding anyway. That is his silent answer: yes.

“My mom got in this accident at work two years ago. They put her on Tylenol but it didn’t help, so they switched her to OxyContin. She got hooked pretty quick and started dating this dirt-bag Rick. He was her dealer and kept her supplied, cause most of the pharmacies cut her off when it was pretty obvious she was abusing,” you say.

It feels easier to get it all out in one go, like you might lose nerve if you don’t just commit.

“Rick’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t like me for whatever reason so he chips away at me. Just dumb stuff that probably doesn’t even sound that bad out of context, but when you’re in it, and someone’s picking away at you…It gets to you.”

JJ starts to stroke at your hairline. It prompts you to continue.

“Anyway, he started stealing my shit to sell, to keep him and my mom going. She couldn’t keep a job held down much so I started working to help out with bills. But then Rick started stealing my paychecks and spending my money on useless crap or drugs. I got angry and confronted them and…And my mom took his side, over me.”

You sigh and meddle with your fingers. The tears start to sting but you’re so tired of wallowing over it. You’ve wasted too much energy on her.

“I don’t think it’s a newsflash that she’s not the best mom. I mean, she left me with Big John for four years, dragged me across the country and never contacted her only son again. But it just hurt, having the person that brought you into the world pick a stranger over you, y’know?”

You eventually feel JJ nod against you. It’s not a feeling you have to describe for him; he knows more than anyone to feel pain at the hand of someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally.

“Rick got ticked off that I tried to go against him, so he got meaner. Left my room a mess, made me do the chores, dumb petty crap like that. The worst thing was when he found my paintings though. He tore them up and ruined them. Scribbled over them. And I know they’re just drawings, and I know this is going to sound dumb,” you warn, laughing self-deprecatingly. “But they were my escape. I hated it there, but I could draw these worlds and feel like they were just for me, and I could exist there instead. And even that was taken from me.”

Images that you repressed flash back into your mind. The enchanting gardens and psychedelic landscapes mottled with black ink, indistinguishable. The way it felt like your heart might fall out of your chest and shatter on your bedroom floor when you found scraps of your paintings tossed around your room.

You clear the memories with a shallow sigh.

“Anyway…” you continue. “I got lonely. Working and all the crap at home made me miss a lot of school. I didn’t have many friends anyway. The thought of spending a whole summer there was just…I couldn’t do it. So I hit up John B and boom. Here I am.”

JJ stares at you, digesting the story. It’s certainly not as chirpy and simple as ‘I wanted a change of scenery.’ It’s scary to strip yourself down to your most vulnerable core. Different to being naked and exposed during sex: almost worse.

“And you’re gonna go back there? When the summer ends?” JJ asks.

You look up at him. You can’t pick-out one emotion on his face, there’s so many. Anger, sadness, vengeance, concern…

“Yes. No. I don’t…” you cut yourself off with a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I do,” JJ is quick to return. “You should stay here.”

“What? And burden John B forever?”

“Sure. Why not?”

You laugh. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Cause you’re forgetting that I’m a minor, JJ. And that Big John is missing, and John B is living alone illegally. If I try to transfer here and get emancipated from my mom, it’ll just open that whole can of worms and could do more damage than good. Me and John B could both end up in foster care, and I might still get sent back to Colorado either way.”

JJ wasn’t expecting such a thorough response. It was laughable that he thought you hadn’t debated moving back to Kildare. That was your original plan, until you contacted John B and found out his dad was gone. A summer escape felt like the best option, like a breath of fresh air away from your stifling homelife, but it wasn’t a long-term fix. Life was too convoluted for that.

“Why does it have to be legal? Just run away,” JJ eventually says.

You quirk a brow tiredly. “Run away? What, like I’m ten years old and didn’t get my choice on the TV?”

“I’m serious,” JJ sighs. He shifts, kneeling before you, holding your gaze. “Fuck the government and whatever. Just stay here. Nobody’s gonna rat you out.”

“What about school?”

“Pope can tutor you,” he says.

“And a place to stay?”

“John B’s room and my place. Hell, maybe Kiara’s folks have a spare room too.”

Your heart melts a little. He’s so determined.

Smiling sadly, you stroke his face lovingly. You don’t want to snuff out his last slither of hope. So, you gently tell him, “Maybe.”

“Yeah? You’ll think about it?” he hopefully asks.

You nod, heart clenching with the lie. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.”

You’re glad he kisses you then, because you can’t bare looking at him a moment longer knowing that in a month, you’ll be gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hurricane Agatha was a bitch. You’re amazed you managed to sleep through as much of the storm as you did.

You venture out your bedroom to find JJ leant against the doorframe of the porch. He’s already drinking a beer, early in the morning. You spot John B out in the backyard. He’s moving fallen branches out the way to recover the H.M.S. Pogue, back facing you. Breezing past JJ, you take advantage of John B’s distraction, slapping your unofficial boyfriend on the butt. He cusses, pinching your own as you head down the stairs. It’s the most you’ve been able to touch each other in over twenty-four hours without raising suspicion. You join your brother in ridding the boat of leaves and sticks. JJ wanders over.

“Whatcha thinking?” he asks.

“I’m thinkin’ that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All those drum are gonna chase the crab.” As he replies, John B clambers into the boat.

“What about the DCS? Wasn’t that today?” JJ asks.

John B had tried to keep as much of the DCS nightmare out of your line of sight, but you weren’t stupid. It certainly helped that you were sleeping with his best friend, a guy infamous for having loose lips. To say that John B getting found out would do some damage to yourself would be an understatement.

“Nah, they’re not getting on a ferry,” John B replies.

You look to JJ. He’s leant forward on the nose of the boat. His slender frame and well-kept body is frustratingly attractive when you can do nothing about it.

“Come on, think about it. It’s God telling us to fish!” John B says.

JJ shrugs. “I mean, I’m down. Just gotta take a leak first.”

John B says your name, drawing your attention back to him. “You coming?”

“Think I’m gonna stay in. Paint.”

JJ clears his throat, mumbling out ‘boring’ as he does. You mirthfully roll your eyes. Tapping the boat in farewell, you give a small wave.

“Have fun!”

There’s the crunch and snapping of twigs and leaves as JJ follows you back to the Chateau. You wander to the bathroom and retrieve your toothbrush. JJ joins you, shrugging his shorts down to pee. There’s no need to fill the domesticated sounds of living with chatter. Outside, John B continues to clear the boat. You spit into the sink and step aside so JJ can wash his hands. He brushes some of your hair off your shoulder when he’s done, leaning down to press a kiss on the spot where your neck becomes your shoulder. His hair tickles your skin and you laugh around your toothbrush.

“You sure you don’t wanna come today?” he asks, looping his arms around your waist.

You nod and spit into the sink again. His eyes meet yours through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got some ideas I’ve wanted to get down for a while now, but I’ve been a little distracted.”

He grins at the insinuation.

“You looking forward to your birthday next week?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, toothbrush back in mouth.

“You know what you want?”

“Mm-mm,” you say, shaking your head.

His grip tightens ever so slightly around you. “I’ve got a few ideas…”

One of his hands comes to hand on the middle of your upper back, coaxing you to lean forward over the bathroom sink. With that, he crudely pretends to take you from behind. Rolling your eyes, you wriggle out of his hold.

“You’re disgusting,” you say with a mouth full of toothpaste.

“You love it,” he quips. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

“See ya.”

JJ plants another kiss to your bare shoulder, blows a raspberry, and laughs as you swat him away. There’s the open and shut of the front door, his energetic chatter with your brother, grunts and groans as they move the boat to the water, and then the sound of JJ’s whoops and hollers as they set off into the town. It’s quiet in the house without them there. You find JJ’s sweatshirt on the pull-out and shrug it on. The smell calms your soul. Taking purchase at the dining table, you retrieve your phone to find the service is out.

“Let’s see you try and call me now,” you mumble to your device, indirectly talking to your mother.

The watercolours you’ve accumulated over the past few weeks of living in Kildare could be made into a tourist guide. Whilst the gang helped at Heyward’s, you painted the shop front during a lemonade break; days spent on the H.M.S Pogue gave you drawings of the Marsh; evenings on the waterfront let you capture the beauty of the ocean. The bonfire and the hammock; JJ’s surf shack; your claimed bedroom in the Chateau…The more you painted, the more you fell in love with Kildare, and the more you wanted to stay. You refill your mason jar with fresh water and begin to work on your latest picture. It’s of JJ’s bedroom. You’ve spent enough time in there to recall it from memory. It feels like your corner of the world, safe away from prying eyes.

As the day stretches on, the group returns to the Chateau. You hear their loud chatter as they approach the house, and it seems to merge into some kind of argument when they get to the porch. Itabruptly ends after your brother announces: just let me think. You ditch your paint, hiding the artwork under less incriminating pieces, and head out to join them. JJ sits in the red armchair you’re so fond of, flicking his lighter. Kiara is on the sofa and you take the spot beside her, frowning at your brother’s face; he’s deep in thought.

“What’s going on?” you ask. You hope it isn’t the DCS.

Before anyone can reply, Pope comes racing up the stairs.

“Okay, so um, we didn’t see anything. We don’t know anything.”

You frown deepens. “What?”

He drops down onto the spot beside you, ignoring your question. “We need to have total and complete amnesia,” he tells John B.

“Actually, Pope’s right for once,” JJ says from the armchair. You all look over to him. “See, I agree with you sometimes.”

He gets to his feet, wandering towards John B. “Deny, deny, deny.”

“Guys, we can’t keep that money,” Kiara declares.

“Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara,” JJ tells her.

Now you’re annoyed. “What money? What the hell is going on!?”

“We found a boat,” John B replies.

“There was a key in the boat,” Pope continues.

“The key unlocked a motel room door,” Kie says.

“And we found a shit ton of money. And a gun,” JJ finishes.

“A gun?” you gape. He nods.

“Which he stole,” Kie points out.

Your mouth hangs open even more, if that is somehow possible. “You kept the gun, JJ?”

“It was a good gun,” he defends, throwing his arms up.

Idiot. You drop your head into your hands. “I leave you guys alone for one day…”

“I was trying to be the voice of reason!” Pope tells you, defending himself.

You shake your head. “Wait? Whose money and gun was it? Whose boat was it?”

“Scooter Grubbs,” John B replies.

“We have to pass the money on to Lana Grubbs, otherwise it’s bad karma,” Kiara says.

“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too,” Pope chimes in.

Felony? Yeah, you’re already pushing it staying with your half-brother, unsupervised in a state different to your mom who doesn’t exactly know where you’ve gone…

“We gotta go dark,” he finishes.

JJ paces past the three of you, saying, “if that means we get to keep the money, then I agree.”

As he comes to a stop in front of the porch entryway, John B seems to return to the room, out of his thoughts. He pats JJ’s bare shoulder. “I don’t agree.”

“What? Why?”

“Just think about it,” John B says. “This is Scotter Grubbs we’re talking about. Alright? Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas.”

All of you watch John B’s spiel. “We’re talking about a dirtbag marina rat who’s never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he’s got a Grady-White? Just sayin’.”

“Wait? What’s a Grady-White?” you ask, looking to JJ. He fills you in. Short answer: a very expensive boat.

“Well, I vote we don’t keep the money,” Pope says.

“I vote we keep it,” JJ disputes, lifting his hand. He looks to John B but he doesn’t respond. Then he looks to you, and you crumble under the gaze, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

“Let’s take the day to think about it,” Kiara says.

And that you do. You all venture onto the jetty to fish. You stand beside JJ as he waits for something to bite, fighting the urge to lean against him. John B continues chattering away to Pope, painting the scene of a drug smuggling industry. Him and JJ agree that if he was ‘straight smuggling’, there’s probably more contraband in the boat wreck. Somehow you all wind up in your bedroom, and Pope finally relents. He agrees to rummage the wreck for contraband but ensures to underline how stupid he thinks it is.

“Right, well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time,” JJ philosophises. You watch him fan out the money.

You can’t help but feel the saying can relate to your own secret romance. Is it a stupid, remarkably bad idea to keep fooling around? Yes. Is the temporary outcome good? Hell yes.

“All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Act normal.”

“Right, and how exactly do we do that?” Pope asks from your bed.

“Keggar?” Kie offers.

Everyone shares a look. You sigh. “I can’t. I gotta go to work.”

“The restaurants probably a wreck. Just skip,” JJ responsibly says.

You shake your head. “Well, I gotta help out even if it is. Lizzy’s probably gonna be there anyway.”

“You gonna want a lift back later?” John B wonders.

You look to JJ. He’s already watching you. “Nah, I’ll just sleep at Lizzy’s.”

He knows the code. Gives the vaguest, barely-there nod in confirmation. The group gets up, everyone filtering out the bedroom door into the main of the house, chattering about what drinks to get and how to round everyone up with the cell towers down. JJ lingers in your room a moment longer, keeping you there with a gentle grab of your wrist.

“What time should I come get you?”

“Ten,” you reply. “Outside the restaurant.”

“You got it,” he nods.

A chaste kiss and then the two of you let go of one another, joining the others in the main room. Your heart is hammering so loud you’re surprised nobody can hear it. It felt like you were playing with fire, kissing so close to the others. And fire is known for one thing: it burns.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There’s a pattern seen in serial killers. After the first five or so murders, they start to slack. Cover their tracks less, take larger risks. You and JJ weren’t out killing anyone – despite his reckless ordeal at the keggar which you later heard about through the grapevine – but you weren’t being as vigilant as when it first started out. The two of you had started to get sloppy.

Now two weeks into the illicit affair, you could hardly recall the last full truth you told John B. Your alibis were harder to keep track of. Your excuses started to weaken. And your ability to keep your hands off JJ became near to impossible. Even if it was a fleeting touch, a loving stroke of his tousled hair…It was almost reflexive. One time Kiara caught you wipe something off his cheek. The moment you saw her in your peripheral, you acted as though you were messing with him, sticking a finger in his ear to get a reaction. But she saw it, and it was a stupid thing to do.

In JJ’s bedroom, there’s a collection of your things. They’ve accumulated over time the way rocks build up on a shoreline: slow and steady, until they’re everywhere. Hair ties scattered along the desk, skincare on his bedside table, spare clothes and underwear in his closet, a toothbrush in the bathroom (that he reluctantly cleaned up). The biggest tell was your art supplies. If John B were to walk in, there’d be questions. JJ wasn’t exactly known as a monogamous guy or an artist. Your brother wasn’t stupid: you reckon he could put the pieces together pretty damn quickly. But it was hard to find it in you to care, when staying with JJ on Friday nights felt like you were playing house.

You’d asked to help him shave the other day after he gave you beard burn on the inside of your thighs. That’s how you find yourself sat on the countertop, precariously balanced on the edge of the bathroom sink, with a razor in hand. He’s stood between your legs, running a finger up and down your thigh, and watching you as you work. Every now and then you clean the razor of hairs in the sink, filled with water. One of your hands cradles his jawline, the other delicately tracing the razor down his cheek, along the apex of his neck.

“Two more days and you’ve caught up with us,” JJ says, referring to your upcoming birthday.

You smile, looking up to meet his gaze. God, you could drawn in his eyes, drift away in them. “About damn time.”

“I think Kie’s made you a cake.”

“That’s sweet,” you hum.

“Your mom gonna call?”

“Probably,” you sigh.

They’d fixed the cell towers now. An influx of texts came through, namely asking if you were safe after the hurricane. You felt the need to say that you were and did so with a simple ‘thumbs up’ reaction. That was the most you’d said to her in a month and a half.

JJ distracts you from thoughts of your mom by tracing the scar lining your elbow. The same scar that helped JJ place a name to your face after so long apart. “Remember when you broke this,” he says.

“Same. Think it’s the most pain I’ve ever been in,” you snort.

“You wouldn’t stop crying. I had to kiss you on the forehead just to get you to shut up,” he sniggers.

JJ and John B had been climbing a tree and you didn’t want to be left behind. You also wanted to impress a certain blonde-haired boy. But you lost your footing and fell, landing at a wonky angle. It was embarrassing, and painful, and embarrassing a couple more times.

“Yeah, I remember that too,” you say, smiling. “I had the biggest crush on you. I thought I was going to faint when you did it.”

“You had a crush on me?” JJ asks.

You pull away enough for him to see your face. It perfectly says really, man? He laughs. You resume your previous position.

“You were always cute.”

“Yeah right. You always saw me as John B’s little sister.”

“Well, yeah. But you were sweet. You used to bring me Hershey kisses.”

Your face feels burning hot. God, you were so subtle back then. “Stop talking or I’m gonna nick you by accident.”

He obliges, his shit-eating grin slowly fading as you work. The satisfying scrape of the razor ridding JJ of facial hair comes to an end with one final swipe. You clean the razor, wipe him clean with a wet flannel, and plant a kiss to his lips.

“Done.”

He steps around you and leans forward, inspecting himself in the mirror. He strokes at his skin, sucking his teeth with an impressed expression.

“Pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You finally gonna quit complaining about my beard making you itchy?”

“Look! It’s left a mark!” you defend, opening your legs and gesturing to the inside of your thighs.

JJ grins. He slides his large palms along the inside of your quads, fingers spanning out across the skin.

“Wanna give the new shave a test run?” he asks.

He sinks to his knees. Your smile grows, heart trilling with erotic excitement. Your fingers loop through his golden hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He places two kisses to your thigh, working towards your core. Fingers hooking onto the waistband of your shorts, you hoist yourself up so he can begin to wiggle them down your legs.

The sound of the front door slamming shut has you both freezing.

Luke Maybank clears his throat, walking into the house. You pull your shorts back up, heart loud in your throat. JJ gets to his feet and pulls the plug from the sink, draining it of water. Then you both stare wide eyed into the living room of the house. Luke collapses on the couch with a sigh, beer bottle in hand. JJ helps you down from the counter, quietly placing you on the floor. You’re not sure what to do. What the best approach is. What kind of mood Luke is in. Following JJ’s lead seems the best way to go. He looks away from the room to you. His gaze is steely and determined.

“Go into my room and go out the window,” JJ instructs in a whisper.

You nod and don’t argue. Slowly, you slink down the corridor and slide into JJ’s bedroom. You push the door closed gently, hoping for it click into the frame without drawing attention.

“JJ? That you?” Luke calls.

Cringing, you shut your eyes, hang your head, and press it against the door. You hear JJ pass the bedroom.

“Y-yeah, I’m here.”

“Thought you were at Routledge’s house,” Luke says. His voice is gruff and reminds you of sandpaper.

“Nah. Not tonight,” JJ replies. He doesn’t sound like his usual self: carefree and jovial. No, he sounds guarded. On edge, like he’s working with a wild animal, unsure of how it may react. “Thought you were out tonight too.”

“What? I can’t come back to my own home whenever I want?”

“No, course. Course you can,” JJ says.

You don’t want to leave him alone with his dad, but you know staying is risky. If Luke finds you whilst he’s in a rage, it might make things worse. He might lash out at JJ, or worse, he might turn on you. So, you slink across the room and step onto JJ’s desk, using his chair as a boost. The window slides open with little effort and you hook a leg over. The other joins it and you dangle a moment, looking down at where to land. It’s a drop about the same height as you. Bracing yourself, you bend your knees as you hit the grass. Another glance is spared to the house. It’s quiet: no shouting or fighting. Sighing, feeling as if you’re betraying JJ somehow, you begin to walk home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As you round the corridor into the living room, your heart sinks in disappointment when you don’t find JJ asleep out on the pull-out. Instead, the bed is half-made and abandoned. You haven’t seen JJ since you snuck out of his house last Friday. Sighing, you turn into the kitchen and open the fridge. A few gulps of orange juice out of the carton count as your breakfast. Looking to the calendar stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you point on today’s date.

“Happy birthday, me,” you mumble.

A pair of arms grab you from behind, picking you up off the floor. You yelp out in surprise.

“Happy birthday!” John B cheers.

Laughing, you let him shake you before returning you safely to the floor. Turning around, you find John B digging about in his short pockets. He retrieves a small, wrapped package and hands it to you.

“Happy sweet seventeenth.”

“The big one-seven,” you reply, thanking him.

You uncover a small pendant necklace made of sterling silver. It’s shaped like the North Carolina state. Lips moving, you give a small breath of admiration, stunned at its simple beauty.

“You like it?” he checks. You get the sense that he doesn’t buy a lot of jewellery. Looking up, you feel tears sting at your eyes. Throwing your arms around your older brother’s shoulders, you hug him.

“I love it. Thank you.”

“Course. I figured that way you always have a piece of Kildare with you,” John B says.

It’s a bittersweet sentiment. There’s only a month left of your stay in Kildare. Colorado and your life there looms like a storm cloud in the future, warning of an unavoidable downpour.

You pass the necklace to him. “Will you?”

As you turn, pulling your hair up and out the way, John B loops the necklace around your neck. When its secured, you drop your hair and turn back to him.

“How do I look?”

“Like a Pogue,” he grins.

You squeeze him in another hug before letting him grab some breakfast.

JJ doesn’t answer his phone. He doesn’t reply to texts or pick up calls. It’s frustrating as hell. You keep checking your phone as you shower, as you dress and as you do your make-up. As you finish putting on mascara, it starts to buzz. You don’t even check the caller ID: you just answer.

“Hello?”

“Oh, so you are alive.”

Mom.

You can’t speak. Can’t find enough air in your lungs to formulate words. Even if you could, nothing comes to mind. Nothing.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” you manage out.

“Well I guess I should say happy birthday.”

It’s incredible how such a sweet statement sounds bitter on her tongue.

“Thanks,” you reply.

“So, I’m guessing you must have been pretty busy this summer. That’s the only way to explain the radio silence since you left,” she says.

“Mom, I—”

“I’m talking now. Not you.”

You swallow. Thank God you skipped breakfast: you feel sick to your stomach.

“When are you coming back home?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She laughs. “Well, you have to come back sometime.”

“Says who?” you snap.

There’s a tense silence. “Says me.”

You don’t speak. Suddenly, JJ’s stupid idea of running away seems incredible smart.

“I’m staying in Kildare for at least another month,” you tell her.

“At least?”

“Yes. At least.”

“And then what? You’re going to become a nomad? Hitchhike around the country?”

“And then…Then it’s none of your concern. It won’t be your problem; it’ll be mine.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” your mom says, tone sharp like broken glass. “You’re coming home the minute the summer ends.”

Your patience twists into something dark and unfamiliar. Rage clouds your vision and your mind.

“Home? Is that what you call that place? Because Colorado hasn’t felt like home to me ever, mom. Ever.”

“You’re making a big thing—”

“No, I’m not,” you snap. Getting to your feet, you begin to pace the room. “You don’t even want me there! You just want my money. You don’t want me. You don’t even pay attention to me!”

“I’m busy trying to keep us alive,” you mom argues.

“Alive? Is that what you call it?” You can’t help but laugh. “If that’s ‘alive’, mom, then I don’t want it.”

“Just…Look, we’re just saying things, alright? You can come home, and we can talk, and we can work things out,” she says, sounding more human.

But you can’t believe it. Can’t trust it. It’s like a glass that’s been broken over and over again. You can glue it together, keeping most of the pieces in place, but it’ll never be as beautiful as it was before. Your mom is forever tainted in your mind. The damage is already done.

Pressing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath. “I’m staying here, mom.”

She begins to say your name, but you cut her off.

“I’m staying in Kildare. I’m staying here with John B, and JJ, and Kiara. They’re taking care of me. I’m okay. I’m eating, and I’m earning money, and I’m safe. But I can’t come back to Colorado. Not until Rick leaves…”

You feel your lower lip tremble.

“And not until you get clean.”

She’s silent for a minute. A long, long minute.

“And what if I don’t want you to stay in Kildare?” she asks. Her voice is quiet when she says it, like she’s powerless. And maybe she is.

It doesn’t feel good when you reply, “then I’ll report you and Rick to the cops, for child neglect and drug dealing.”

When people play chess, there’s a certain moment that the game is won. Check and mate. It’s a strategy game. You feel the moment your mom realises she’s lost. Your final piece takes position, and she’s rendered useless. She can either surrender - and let you stay in Kildare without complaint or contest - or force your hand to knock her off the board with a quick phone call to the police.

“And you’re safe?” she whispers.

Your heart splinters. It wasn’t her fault she got addicted, but it was her fault that she wasn’t there for you when you needed her most. They say time heals all wounds and you pray that to be true.

“I’m safe,” you assure her, voice wavering.

She doesn’t speak for a few seconds.

Then, quietly, she says, “well, happy birthday. Just…don’t ignore me like that again. I need to know that you’re okay.”

You nod. The tears start to fall and you press your lips together. “Okay, mom. I’ll text you. I promise.”

Through a shaky breath, you feel the three words form on your tongue. Three words that you haven’t said to her since you left North Carolina. But before they can pass through your lips, she clicks off the line without another word. You let out a pained sob. It’s so strange to get everything you ever wanted, and nothing that you wanted at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your birthday passes by in a blink.

After the phone call with your mom, you sobbed for an hour. John B came knocking and held you through it, and when you asked if it was okay for you stay for the foreseeable future, he seemed more than ecstatic. All we have is each other, now. There’s something strangely tethering about trauma.

Pope and Kiara came around in the early afternoon. She’d made the most incredible birthday cake. Sage green buttercream frosting with edible flowers arranged around the rim. In the centre it had 17 written in white icing. They sang happy birthday and lit the candles, and as you blew them out, you wished for JJ to show up. Apparently, nobody had heard from him lately. It filled your stomach with led.

After asking what you wanted to do, the four of you relaxed in the backyard. It was an excuse to drink and listen to music. Pope discussed the latest book he read with you as you rocked in the hammock. John B began to talk about the Royal Merchant. He’d seemingly become more and more enthralled in the shipwreck. Whilst you’d been at work, covering shifts for people affected by the hurricane, they’d been pursuing the whole Grady-white shipwreck. Turns out, it was all connected to the royal merchant and Big John. You weren’t sure how you felt about that revelation. The group also seemed to be dubious. So, when Kie fell into a discussion about the treasure hunt with your older brother, you happily tuned it out.

Around seven, Kie and Pope left. John B seemed pretty exhausted so he said he was going to get an early night. You agreed and trudged into your room, but sleep wouldn’t come no matter how drained you felt. As per routine, at ten, you slip into your crocs and head into the living room, sights set on the porch. You stop short. The porch light filters into the main bulk of the room.

“JJ,” you whisper to yourself.

Walking out, opening the door, you find him on the couch. For once, he’s facing the doorway. He looks up from his lighter that he’s been messing with and meets your gaze. At the sight of his lips twitching up at the corners, you break into a smile and rush over. Practically wrestle him into a hug. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you. The way he holds you feel holy. Two days apart and you felt like you were having withdrawal.

“Happy to see me?”

“Where the hell have you been?” you ask into his t-shirt.

He pulls away. You sit on his lap, looking down at him, surveying his face for injuries.

“I got roped into some shit with my dad,” he says.

“He didn’t…”

You can’t bring yourself to ask, but your hand outstretching, tracing his features for some sign of pain, finishes the question.

He shakes his head, taking your hand from his face to intertwine it with his own.

“No, no. Just had to keep him busy, really. Helped out at the harbour and shit. Dropped my phone in the water like a dumbass.”

Ah. That explains the radio silence.

JJ smiles up at you. “Anyway. I’ve back now.”

“Good,” you say. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he mumbles.

One of his hands reaches up to play with a strand of your hair. He lets it go, it falls into the mess atop of your head, and he traces his fingers down your body before resting at your hip. All the while, JJ stares at you, taking you in like he’s taking in an eclipse. Like you’re something that deserves to be admired.

“Happy birthday,” he says.

You smile, bright like a supernova. “Thanks.”

“Good day?”

You’re not sure how to tell him about the greatest gift of all: your mom letting you stay in Kildare. So, you just nod dumbly. JJ picks the pendent of your necklace off your skin, inspecting it.

“Who got you this? It’s pretty.”

“My mistress,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes.

“John B.”

“It’s pretty,” he repeats, letting it sit against your skin once more. He lets his touch linger against your sternum. God, you missed him. “Kie’s cake good?”

“Mhm. There’s some left in the kitchen. I’ll get us some,” you say.

You move to climb off him to retrieve a couple of slices but JJ grabs at your hips, keeping you in place and capturing your attention once more.

“Gotta give you your gift first.”

JJ leans down to retrieve your present from under the sofa where he’s stashed it. He hands it to you, a brown paper parcel finished with garden string, with a foreign nervous smile on his face.

“I hope they’re the right ones.”

Confused by what he might mean, you begin to open it. The brown paper crinkles in your hands as you unwrap your present. A small, elated gasp falls out your mouth as you lay your eyes on a set of Winsor and Newton watercolour paints. You trace a finger over the silver tin as if to prove you aren’t hallucinating.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

Winsor and Newton paints. The worlds that you can illustrate flash through your mind, igniting your imagination in ways that you haven’t experienced for years. You feel a quivering smile, overwhelmed with emotion for the paints and for the boy who bestowed them upon you, and look up. He’s smiling, watching you, and you lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love them. Thank you, JJ.”

His arms wrap safely around your middle, pulling you against him in the embrace. You move your lips to his, sighing as you finally reconnect through the kiss. When you break apart, only a hair’s width between your mouth and his, you feel those same words from earlier today fly up and through you.

“I love you.”

You say it quiet and private, like a prayer.

His eyes falter to meet your own. There’s a nervous breath as he takes in your declaration.

“I love you too,” he breathes.

As you kiss, you feel your heart melt into liquid gold. For once in your life, things feel as though they’re falling into place. The rough brush of JJ’s tongue prying into your mouth has you tilting your head. You let him imbibe you. You treasure the way his rough hands, worn from work on the harbour, slip under your t-shirt. His touch is cold against your burning skin.

“What the fuck.”

Fool’s gold.

You startle at the interruption, head spinning to find John B stood on the porch. He’s gaping at you and JJ like he may have just seen a ghost. Disbelief and horror shadow his face.

“John…” you choke.

His eyes flit from you, from your lips, to JJ. To his hand still under your shirt. To his hand planted securely on your hip. To how you’re sat in his lap. To your own tethered into his hair. To your own wrapped lovingly around his neck. It’s as incriminating as finding a murderer holding the knife above a dead body. No excuse, no justification. Nothing. No alibi can save you now. It’s a clean and shut case.

“What the fuck is going on?” John B mutters. His thoughts seem to be catching up with him second by second. His chest begins to rise, anger flaring his veins, and his expression hardens. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Look, man, just—”

But your brother strides over and practically rips JJ out from under you. You hear yourself scream out as he shoves JJ onto the porch floor, landing a hard punch into his jaw. JJ takes the hits, doesn’t even try to fight back, only fumbles to try and push John B off him. You start to scream like a hysteric. Shriek for him to stop. Beg for him to. You grapple at John B’s shirt, trying to pull him off your boyfriend, as he lands hit after hit. The sound is sickening, of flesh hitting flesh. You feel tears fall down your cheeks in panic as he refuses to let up.

“Get off him, John!” you screech.

Finally, you pull him off. The two of you tumble to the floor.

JJ turns onto his side, coughing and spitting out blood, groaning in pain. He lifts a finger to dap at his lip, wincing as he draws it back to find it red. You go to help him, to check that there’s no lasting damage, but John B holds you back. He moves towards his best friend once more but you grab at his shirt.

“John, please don’t,” you blubber, trying to keep him away.

He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, taking a slow, measured breath to try and calm his rage. Then, he turns his head to you. The betrayal in his eyes makes you sob.

The sound of JJ’s groans has the attention back on him. He’s struggling to his knees, a hand coming to cradle his jaw.

“Shit, JB. You can throw a hell of a punch,” JJ mutters. He spits out more blood. It makes you cringe.

JJ gets to his feet. John B follows. You can’t find strength to get off the floor. Your eyes are transfixed for a while on the pool of blood where JJ laid.

“You promised me,” John B seethes.

You look up and finally muster the courage to stand. You watch as JJ looks to you. Can see how he wants to grab you and console you just like he used to when you were a child. Just like he did when you fell out of the tree. But his better judgement makes him decide against it.

“It’s not what it looks like, alright?” JJ tries, voice steady.

“Not what it looks like? What? You groping my little sister isn’t what it looks like?” John B barks.

JJ scowls. “I wasn’t groping her. And she’s hardly your little sister. You’re less than a year older than her!”

That pisses your brother off more. He takes a step towards JJ but you reach an arm out, stopping him.

“She’s vulnerable, JJ.”

You frown. Offense stings in your heart. Does he really think you so defenceless? So incapable of judging others for yourself?

“She’s seventeen, John B. She can make her own choices without you making them for her,” JJ argues. “She knows what’s in her best interest.”

“Oh? And you’re her best interest?” John B scoffs.

JJ’s gaze darkens. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

No. No, this is not helping. It’s only making matters worse.

“You know what I mean! You fuck a new girl every other week! You can’t keep your fingers off other people’s shit, you lie like you’ve been doing it since day one—”

“John-”

Your quiet plea goes ignored. John B takes another challenging step towards JJ. You can’t hold him back. He’s stronger than you. They both are.

“You’re gonna end up in a cell just like your dad and leave my sister as collateral when you get bored of sleeping with a girl whose been in love with you since she was a kid.”

JJ’s fist hits John B square on the cheek. John B hurls his own punch and they end up in some messy wrestle. They fall onto the coffee table and fumble out weak throws. Fear for what may happen to either of them makes you act with stupidity. You dart forward and try to pry them off one another. Somewhere in the chaos, a stray punch hits you in the nose. Pain blinds you. You yelp and fall backwards against the couch, hands flying up to your face. They stop. JJ utters your name.

When you pull your shaking hand away, you find it soaked with blood. Your chest heaves with panic as the pain sets in. JJ shoves John B off and comes to your side.

“S’alright, s’alright,” he soothes.

You’re not like JJ. You don’t take hits like it’s your day job. You’ve never been punched in your life. The last major injury you sustained was your broken arm, back when you were thirteen. Sobbing in pain, you feel yourself panic at the sight of flowing blood.

“S’okay. Lean forward, alright? You gotta lean forward,” JJ instructs.

He shifts you so you’re sitting on the floor, back against the sofa. You let him guide your fingers to the bridge of your nose and pinch at the soft skin. There’s the distant sound of John B rushing into the house. You don’t see it, though. Your eyes are pressed shut to not look at the blood.

“You feel okay?”

“I feel sick,” you mumble. And not just from the nosebleed.

“S’alright. It’ll stop soon,” JJ reassures.

He strokes your back lovingly, dragging your hair off your face as your head bows forward. You choke on the metallic taste that trickles into your other senses. God, everything is a mess.

“Here, here,” John B mutters.

You crack open your eyes to see him drop to his knees beside you. He hands JJ a towel. JJ lifts it to your nose, wiping some of the blood off your skin before holding it steady below your nostrils. It soaks with blood.

“Shit, should she be bleeding that much?” John B asks JJ.

“She’ll be fine,” JJ snaps. He probably doesn’t want to freak you out more. “It’s normal.”

And, eventually, after two towels are soaked, the blood flow slows to a stop.

“I think it’s stopped,” JJ mumbles.

You let him remove the towel. It feels risky to sniff. The smell and taste of blood is consuming and makes you feel nauseous. Tentatively, you try lifting your head. JJ and John B are staring at you. They’re nothing less than concerned.

“How do I look?” you croak.

JJ tries to fight it but fails. He sniggers, then John B does, and you find your own smile. Then the three of you are laughing like you’re drunk.

“That bad, huh?”

“Never looked hotter,” JJ lies through his laughter.

“Yeah…this isn’t your best look,” John B comments.

When the humour passes, you shake your head and look to John B. Like a storm at sea, his anger seems to have passed, not a sign that it was ever there on his face. JJ’s calmed down too. You know they’ll have to talk it out, the things John B said to him, but words said in fury are usually far from true. Cheap shots to try and hit JJ where it hurts. Brothers fight.

“I’m sorry we kept it a secret from you,” you say to John B.

His eyes slip shut like your apology pains him. Like you’re applying balm to his fresh wounds. Sighing, he opens them to ask, “how long has it been happening?”

You and JJ share a look. He clears his throat before answering. “About a month. Maybe a bit longer.”

“It started the third week after I came to Kildare,” you clarify.

John B exhales with disbelief. “No. No, that can’t be true.” Before you try and explain further, he’s looking to JJ. “You can’t keep your mouth shut for a whole fucking month.”

JJ cracks up. A smile creeps onto your face too. “I think it’s a new record, man, honestly.”

“Yeah, congrats,” John B grunts, rolling his eyes.

“We just didn’t want to tell you cause we know things have been weird since your dad went missing, and you’ve sort of been hooked on this Royal Merchant thing,” you say to your brother.

“And cause you sort of told me to specifically not date your sister,” JJ meekly tags on.

John B sends him a damning look. JJ cringes. “I mean, I’ve never been good at doing as I’m told so this is kinda on you. Just partly.”

“Careful,” John B warns.

You grab for your brother’s hand. A stray stream of blood slips from your nose and JJ lifts the towel to wipe it away. John B meets your gaze.

“We’re not just fooling around,” you say. As his brows knit together, you spare a glance to JJ as if trying to muster up courage. “I love him.”

John’s mouth falls open. You might as well have just told him you’re pregnant. He looks to JJ as if needing some clarification, and he just nods and shrugs, his expression something close to yep, it’s true.

“I just wish you guys told me,” John B eventually tells you. Then, laughing, he adds, “and how long were you even planning on keeping this up?”

“Well...We hadn’t really got that far,” JJ fumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

You all share a laugh. John B nods and looks between the two of you. Like a pill he must swallow, he accepts his fate. You’re not proud, but you wouldn’t change a thing. Taking the risk with JJ was the best choice you ever made.

“I don’t love it,” John B says. Then, with a pained sigh, he adds, “but I’ll get used to it.”

You and JJ immediately lock eyes; smiles of relief and elation sparking to life.

“But you hurt her, and I’ll lay you out,” John B warns JJ, in a stereotypical brotherly fashion.

JJ nods. He seems to know now that John B will uphold that promise to the highest degree. “Scout’s honour,” he swears, crossing his heart and holding up three fingers.

John B looks to your once more and offers you a hand. He helps you off the floor.

“Jeez. What a birthday. You found out you get to stay in Kildare and have a nosebleed all in one day.”

“Wait, what?” JJ barks.

Your head darts around to the blonde-haired boy.

“You’re staying in Kildare?”

Realisation dawns upon you. In the pandemonium, you’d forgotten to tell him. A sheepish smile settles on your face. “Oh yeah, um…I have some news.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your bedroom door swings open as Kiara sings out, “morning lovebirds!”

JJ groans from beside you at the wake-up call. You crack open your eyes through the streaming sunlight and look to the doorway. John B’s head pops into view.

“Get up! We’re recovering a shipwreck!” he adds.

Kie grabs a sock from the floor and tosses it at your boyfriend.

“Get up,” she repeats.

The door slams shut and you chuckle, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling. JJ stirs from beside you. You feel his finger reach out to prod your cheek.

“Mornin’,” he rasps.

You look over to him, smiling sleepily. “Morning.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Like a Goddamn baby,” you grin.

He smiles at that. Sighing and groaning and making all kinds of fuss, JJ stretches in bed.

The two of you gradually emerge from your room. It’s hard to get dressed when your boyfriend keeps grabbing at your hips, sucking hickeys into your neck, stealing your bikini bottoms. There’s a persistent knocking at the door every five minutes from each of the Pogues, telling you to quit macking and get ready.

You wolf down breakfast at the dinner table, mulling over your latest painting. It’s of JJ’s back, arguably your favourite feature of him, when he used to sleep on the pull-out sofa. The room is bathed in moonbeams, bed made up of messy plaid blankets and mismatching pillows. The new paints make everything feel so lifelike and vivid. You’re debating adding faint pink lines to represent scratch marks on his back….

“Come on! We gotta go!” John B declares, drumming on your head as he passes you to the front door.

JJ finishes your Poptart as you text your mom a quick update for the day, and then the two of you join the Pogues in the Twinkie. He hooks an arm over your shoulder, holding you against him as you sit in the back with Pope. They fall into a debate about the scientific benefits of weed (JJ is, no surprise, in favour) whilst Kie and John B discuss tactics for finding the Royal Merchant. As you rest against your boyfriend, you smile and close your eyes. You finally found your home. You found it in Kildare.

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lvnleah · 5 hours

Text

Double The Love || Leah Williamson x Lia Wälti

Based on this request! :)

Summary: Leah’s daughter, Sage, starts to call Lia Mummy one night after spending a lot of time with her over the past few months due to Lia moving in because of Leah’s ACL. Leah and Lia are secretly dating and Sage figures it out over time.

Notes: this is my first one-shot so please be kind! <33

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“Sage! Bed time, c’mon let’s get your pjs on!” Leah called out from the living room, slowly walking into the kitchen.

Leah’s heart swelled with love as she slowly walked into the kitchen. Her two-year-old daughter, Sage, was sitting on the kitchen side, giggling away, as her girlfriend, Lia, stood in front of her. Lia tickled the two-year-old repeatedly, getting more and more giggles out of her.

Lia had been a constant presence in their home ever since Leah tore her ACL during a game a few months ago. The injury had left Leah hobbling around on crutches, and Lia had stepped in to help. She moved in with Leah and Sage and took on a motherly role. From cooking meals to reading bedtime stories, and even teaching Sage how to speak a little bit of Swiss, Lia had become a major part in Leah and Sage’s life.

As time progressed and Lia and Leah spent more time together, the pair caught feelings for each other. They decided to keep things from Sage, not wanting the toddler to get hurt if things didn’t work out.

Sage didn't understand why her mumma, Leah, sometimes winced when she moved or why she needed those crutches. But Lia was always there for her Mumma, she could tell that Lia was helping her Mumma. Sage became curious about her Mumma’s injury and Lia helped answer any questions that Sage had.

Sage’s laugh became contagious and Leah couldn’t help but laugh along with Lia and her daughter.

“Right, bubba! It’s bedtime,” Leah announced as she joined Lia and Sage. “Say goodnight to Lia and Mumma will put you in your pjs!”

Sage lent forward and wrapped her arms around Lia, holding on so her Mumma couldn’t take her as she rested her head on Lia’s chest.

Lia smiled, “I don’t mind helping put her to bed.” She offered, “We’re besties aren’t we, sweet girl?”

Sage gave Leah her cute little pout that she knew her Mumma couldn’t say no to.

Leah walked into Sage’s bedroom, Lia closely following behind with the sleepy toddler attached to her hip. Despite being tired, Sage demanded to be placed down on the floor so she could pick out her pyjamas and a book for her Mumma to read. Leah watched from behind as Lia helped Sage pick out a bedtime story, her heart swelling even more with love.

“You sure you want this one, sweetie?” Lia asked as Sage handed her the book, the same book that’s been read every night for the past week.

Sage nodded, her blonde pigtails moving in unison, “Yep! Me love this book.” Sage smiled, climbing onto her toddler bed. “Mr Flopsy?” She frowned, looking around her bed for her favourite teddy.

“Mr Flopsy’s here, bubba.” Leah said, getting the stuffed rabbit from the shelf.

The three sandwiched themselves into Sage’s toddler bed, Lia sat closest to the wall whilst Lwah rested on the edge with Sage sandwiched between them. Lia and Leah took it in turns, each reading a page of the book to Sage.

As they finished the final page, Sage’s eyes began to close slowly. Lia slipped out of the bed before helping Leah up from it. Leah kissed Sage’s forehead, whispering sweet words to her daughter before letting Lia say goodnight.

“Goodnight sweet girl, sweet dreams.” She whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Sage’s forehead.

"Goodnight, Mummy," Sage sleepily whispered, her voice soft and gentle as she wandered off into a deep sleep.

Lia's heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Leah, who was standing behind her, her eyes crinkling with affection. Leah didn’t bother to correct Sage. Instead, she'd smile and let the moment linger, savouring the sweetness of the moment.

Sage’s innocent confusion tugged at Lia's heart. She knew that she and Sage shared a bond that went beyond biology. A bond forged through scraped knees, bedtime stories, and whispered dreams.

Leah took Lia’s hand into her own as the pair of them tiptoed out of Sage’s bedroom. The hallway was dimly lit, the smell of Sage’s lotion lingering in the air. They made their way into the living room, Leah pulling Lia down with her as the pair of them sat down on the couch. A comfortable silence fell over them before Leah broke it.

“I-I, umm, I’m sorry if Sage calling you Mommy made you feel uneasy.” Leah apologised, kissing the brunette's head.

Lia sat up and shook her head, “It didn’t, it felt…right.”

“Do you think it's time to tell Sage?” Leah carefully asked, making sure not to overstep.

“Do you?” Lia questioned.

Leah nodded, “I do, I really do. I don't think anything would change, if anything she’d probably love it. I think she’s already caught on that you’re more than just her Mumma’s friend. I’m just worried that Sage might get hurt if things go wrong.”

Lia laughed, she knew Sage was an intelligent two year old and Leah’s guesses were probably correct. “Leah, I’m never going anywhere. I promise you that I’m here forever, I’m not leaving.”

Leah smiled, placing a soft kiss on Lia’s lips, “Could we just see how things go? Maybe we could just start showing more affection in front of Sage and see how she reacts. If she asks questions then we can just be open with her.”

Lia nodded in agreement, “Of course we can, we’re doing things at your pace okay?”

As the days turned into weeks, Sage began to call Lia ‘Mummy’ more often. She'd say things like, "Mummy, can you read me a story?" or "Mommy, can you help me build a fort?" And Lia would nod, her eyes shining with love.

Leah returned to training, Sage attending training with her. The couple arrived to training together everyday, their teammates knew they were together but were still shocked when they heard Sage refer to Lia as ‘Mommy.’

One evening, after dinner, Sage crawled into bed, her eyelids drooping. Lia sat on the edge, brushing her fingers through Sage’s hair as Leah cuddled up beside them. "Mommy," Sage murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Lia whispered back.

Sage eyes fluttered open. "You love Mumma?"

Lia's heart swelled. She leaned down and kissed Sage’s forehead. "I do, sweetheart. I love her a lot.”

“You dating Mumma, like Auntie Beffy is dating Vivi?” Sage questioned.

Sage knew what a relationship was and was aware that many of her Auntie’s were in one, the one she adored the most was her Auntie Beffy’s.

Lia looked down at Leah, letting her take the lead on the question. Leah tickled Sage’s stomach before speaking.

“Yes, we are. I love Lia and Lia loves Mumma a lot, we’re a little family, is that okay?” Leah asked. “It mean means you get double the love!”

Sage nodded, “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart!” Lia smiled, kissing Sage’s forehead again.

And in that quiet room, with Leah cuddled beside them, they were a family. A family that came unexpectedly but something they all needed.

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leahwilliamsonn evenings well spent with loved ones ❤️

tagged: liawaelti

comments off

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fluff #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #lia walti #lia walti x Leah Williamson #lia walti x reader

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stickyspeckledlight · 2 days

Text

VERY short drabble based on @harmonysanreads recent brainrot-quick thought whatever you call it post, of sunday singing lullabies

you used to think sunday to be a kind man, but recently, he's revealed his true colors; which leaves you here, tossing and turning.

at his betrayal and from your stress and hate, you transmitted your unbridled rage toward him. from one halovian to another, nothing so out of the ordinary (though, the brutality of those emotions was another matter entirely).

perhaps sunday wasn't completely shaken (for how else could he have remained as head of the Oak Family?), but it certainly had an effect. he didn't notice that one of his lapels fell slightly askew for three minutes, in fact. it was a sweet victory, but if you bite the hand that feeds you, why should you expect to have kept eating from it?

it must've been hours ago, but those waves of emotions he sent to you still run through you. you can't decipher them, when you're so overwhelmed---

love, obsession, love, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, love, worship, my dove my creed---

you scream into your pillow. your migraine may have degraded into a headache, and the agony may not be so intense, but its still the same flavor. it's acrid and cracking on your tongue. every time you think you've spat it out or rinsed it out, it grows back into an arid patch on your tongue.

you can't sleep. you want to sleep for a reprieve, yet if you do...

what else would sunday send to you, in your dreams?

"you're awake," the door opens, greeting you with that awful voice, "at this hour?" there is a particularly way sunday speaks, when he thinks you unruly, but not enough to properly punish. it's infantilizing, chiding, antagonizing, yet also warm. it reminds you of a mother, one who couldn't bear to let her children go, to let them step out of the lines she set. "i understand that you are still in the process of transitioning, but bear in mind that you---"

"what makes you think I can even relax, after that?" you hiss, "that...that..." you take a sharp inhale when a pang of agony hits.

sunday hums dismissively. "merely the consequences of your actions. do not worry. so long as you don't step out of line, I will ensure you only the best, as a valued member of the Family...and a 'dove.'"

you hiss with frustration. your mind is far too occupied trying to not collapse and break down, and there's no retort you can offer sunday. you close your eyes, and wrap your blankets tighter, till you are trapped in a coil.

the bed dips, and a glove hand runs through your hair. you know who it belongs to, but the touch is warm, kind, and you can fool yourself into thinking it to be loving. it is a relief from the weight of the past hours.

and comes a calm, harmonious, melodious hum. you nearly jolt from as the agonizing weight in your mind gets replaced with the kind warmth of a fire, the sweetness of soulglad, and the security you find within sunday's arms---huh? wha---the softness of sunday's lips, the beauty of his smile, his enthralling gaze, his downy feathers which accompany wonderfully silken hair.

gloved fingers encourage your eyes to shut, and you abide, wrapped in this soothing, blissful melody, and let yourself be carried away into a dream.

#speckled word vomits #yandere hsr #yandere #yandere sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #sunday x reader #yandere sunday #yandere x you #yandere x reader #awwwwwwwww how sweet he brainwashes you 🥺🥺#kfc my beloved #you may have permanently traumatized me because you KILLED ME #but i forgive you #you'll be suffering plenty in 2.2 anyway--#honkai star rail #wrote this in like 25-30 minute so nobody gets to shoot me for any glaring grammar issues #or continunity issues #(my assignment is staring at me from the corner with only 300 words help)

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ecliphttlunar · 1 day

Text

If you are not - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you had been separated for weeks, and you were both suffering, and you wanted each other, until all this suffering ended when you had the chance to meet again once again.

Warnings: angst, comfort, kisses, mention of unrequited love, cute

Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors. This is part 2 of Friends

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Since that night, Chris has been losing his mind, and you've been trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing.

You two were lost in a maze of emotions, Chris was missing you, and he was going crazy.

And you were wondering what was wrong with you when you left.

This loneliness was making you cold.

Chris tried not to let it get him down, going out to parties, talking and hooking up with girls.

For others, you had become just another person.

But Chris knew better.

He was always, even though he knew it was wrong, comparing other girls to you.

They weren't pretty like you.

They weren't fun like you.

They weren't as nice as you, they didn't get along as well with his brothers as you did, they didn't stay in his head like you did, they didn't have your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the soft hair like yours, the features of your face like yours.

They weren't you.

Chris was now with his friends and brothers, all on the couch watching a movie while drops of water fell to the ground and thunder accompanied the rain.

You were always afraid of storms, always finding comfort in Chris's arms, his soft voice in your ear, and the stupid jokes that made you laugh.

But now you weren't in his arms, and Chris began to feel afraid of the storm, the terrifying sounds the thunder made.

Looking out the window, watching the rain fall, he realized that, again, he was thinking about you.

But he couldn't be surprised by it.

He was obsessed with you.

What had you done with him?

And he felt it again, that poison inside him.

Longing. He missed you.

And you? You were lying in your bed, with a blanket over your body to keep you warm, but you still felt cold.

You were cold, alone, and scared to sleep.

Because whenever you slept, you remembered those eyes.

Those damn eyes.

Whenever you slept, it felt like you went back in time, always having the same dream.

First, you saw his eyes.

He was there, in front of you, smiling at you, you were holding hands, and soon you hugged each other, your lips touched and your hand went to his hair.

Until you woke up and realized it was all a dream.

Just a dream.

And now, you were scared to sleep.

You knew that in your thoughts, he would remain, at all times you would remember the sparkle in those eyes.

You closed your eyes and couldn't forget him.

Damn gods.

You thought about him, even when you were with someone.

Attractive, fun men, they knew how to talk to you, they made you laugh.

But the story was always the same.

At some point or another, you would start comparing that man to Chris.

You always thought about him.

Even though you were with someone, you thought.

It wasn't him.

You were losing your mind, going completely crazy, feeling different emotions at the same time.

Until one day, destiny brought you together again.

And finally you realized.

It was inevitable.

The destiny had already been written.

It was supposed to be you and Chris.

It all happened when Nick asked you to participate in a new video.

And you said yes.

You knew you should say no.

But everything was a disaster, and you just wanted to see him.

Find out how he is.

And you couldn't wait any longer, and now you were 5 minutes away from loving him again.

One last time.

You parked your car in front of their house but stayed in the car.

His hands shook as they gripped the steering wheel tightly.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, finally getting out of the car and walking towards the front door of the house.

You had been standing in front of the door for more than 5 minutes, trying to find the courage to knock.

Your hand was shaking as you raised it for the tenth time, about to knock on the door.

But you lowered it again, and raised it, and repeated these movements several times.

Until, before you had time to understand what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

After a few seconds it opened, revealing him.

Chris.

He swallowed hard, not believing the ghost in front of him.

You were really there.

When Nick said you were coming for the new video, Chris froze, and thought it was a lie.

But he remembered that his brothers didn't know exactly what had happened between you, so for you to show up at his house was something that could happen.

And there you were, in front of him.

Chris had prepared a speech for you, and now, this speech was going through his mind, he needed to talk to you.

It was simple, he just needed to say it, but it felt like their lips had been glued together.

Even if he tried, they wouldn't open up.

He froze in place.

Until his lips came loose, and he stood there in front of you, opening and closing his mouth.

You were confused.

And he was embarrassed, he was making a fool of himself now, in front of you.

He just closed his lips and eyes tightly, lowering his head.

He stayed in that position for a while, and when a small spark of courage appeared, still with his head down, he whispered.

"I'm sorry" the first words of the speech had been spoken, and now, he just needed to say the rest.

And now, he thought it would be a little easier, he had managed to start, he just needed to finish.

But he couldn't, because he forgot all the words he had prepared as soon as he raised his head and saw your watery eyes.

You didn't want to cry, but as soon as those words escaped his mouth, and you realized the conversation they were going to have, you couldn't help it, you tried to remain firm, but your eyes started to water.

His heart broke when he saw you in that fragile state.

But he needed to continue, even if it was difficult, he needed to, because you had given him permission to talk, you were listening to him, and he wanted, he needed to have you back.

So, he continued, even though he didn't know what he was saying, he continued, transforming all these emotions he felt these last few weeks into words.

"I'm sorry, I.." he closes his eyes.

Now it was his emotions that were trying to surface, his voice broke and he wondered if he could speak.

He needed to speak. Or he would lose you again, and maybe he wouldn't have another chance like this.

He lets out a shaky breath, and continues.

"I'm normally not the type of person to stay up all night thinking about someone, but since that night, I haven't been able to sleep, it's kind of hard to sleep peacefully, when your heart is on the line, the truth is I'm going through hell since you left, because in my head it's always been you, my heart is in your hands, desperate because no one can take it from you, you're on my damn mind and I can't fight it."

You tried to hold back the tears, but at this point you were already sobbing, because you were going through hell too.

You were feeling the same way he felt.

He approaches you, and when you don't back away, he takes your face in his hands.

He takes a deep breath, trying to control his emotions.

At that moment, he was handing you a knife, while you held his heart.

Waiting to see what you would do.

Whether you would throw away the knife, and keep his heart, or whether you would kill him.

"I'm tired of playing with myself, thinking there's someone else, I dated girls, and I tried to write the story my way, but if it's not you, it's a lie."

“Chris” You whisper his name but he stops you.

You were so close now, noses touching, lips millimeters apart.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner, for not telling you that I loved you, I'm so sorry." He whispers.

You breathe, calling his name again, and again, and again.

You were a wreck.

"I thought it was some kind of one-sided love, unrequited love." You whisper.

"No honey, I just didn't realize it, but now I see it, I love you."

You let out a small laugh, finding it funny what the lack of communication did to you.

"I love you too Chris."

And with those 4 words, Chris felt his heart beat again, faster than ever.

You still loved him.

Chris felt the air returning to his lungs as he smiled.

You missed that smile.

Of course, you and Chris knew that everything wasn't resolved, you would have to talk more, resolve some other things that hadn't yet been resolved, and explain a lot of things to each other.

But at that moment, you just wanted him to dry your tears and kiss you.

And that's exactly what he did.

He kissed you, but it wasn't like other times, where you were at a party kissing because of sexual desires.

He kissed you because he loved you. And he put all this love he felt for you into that kiss.

And you like it.

You separated, and looked at each other, both eyes reflecting love.

And in that moment, you understood.

That before, no matter how much you loved each other, you still didn't know how to love.

That's why it was necessary for you to separate, so that you could learn.

And you learned.

You holding each other, smiling at each other, your eyes shining with love, it was proof that you had learned how to love each other.

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lunaroserites · 2 days

Text

Does Heaven Even Know You’re Missing

Paring: Established Bucky X Fem!Reader (Sugar)

Summery: Just a snippet Sugar and Bucky. Steve is alive. Part of the Sugar AU. Inspired by a song of the same name by Nickelback

Warnings: Nightmares, comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N, Not beta'd all mistakes are my own

Word Count: ~1005

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Read Too Sweet here

Whimpering, you heard whimpering as you stirred awake which caused you to jolt upright and look around. Looking at your phone after you snatched it from the bedside table it read 4:03am. You felt him thrashing a little next to you and the whimpering got louder. Quickly you turned and leaned over him, he was squirming, there was a very evident sheen of sweat over his entire body.

He had been working on staying in bed for the whole night, it was proving to be a difficult task these last couple weeks. A difficult mission seemed to have rocked him in some way he refused to discuss with you. He didn’t want to scare you, but he was scaring you more by hiding it. He was a stubborn man, proud and terrified you would look at him differently if you knew everything going on in his tangled web of a mind.

He had told you once that the first time he stayed in bed all night was the first time you stayed over, he didn’t start in bed and end up on the floor in the living room like always. You brought peace to his soul, calmed his racing thoughts and soothed his worries. With you in his arms, he felt safe.

You quickly pulled the blanket down and off him so he wouldn’t feel confined, you touched the lamp stand, casting a dim amber light over you two. His eyelids were fluttering as his eyes moved frantically under them. You touched his cheek softly and stroked it gently.

The first time he had a nightmare in bed with you, was scary. You had to call Steve to help. Now you have a routine, you didn’t leave. His grip on your waist wouldn’t allow you to anyway.

“Bucky,” you cooed softly, “Bucky,” you stroked his cheek gently again and you felt his grip tighten momentarily on your waist. His fingers flexed and gripped the soft fabric of your night dress. He moved and turned over you, tucking his face into your neck and inhaling deeply.

One, two, three, four, five deep breaths later he collapsed on top of you. His weight was comforting and his intangible murmurs as he came too were almost relaxing. You gently stroked his hair and rubbed his shoulder.

“Just say you’ll stay and never go,” he mumbled into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck. “Never leave me here alone,” your heart broke at the desperation in his hoarse voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly into his ear as you kissed his temple. “I’m here forever,” you hugged him tightly. He whimpered into your neck and shifted so you were tucked safely next to his large body, cradled into his chest.

“The day I finally felt alive,” he said, his voice trembling as he gripped your mid section tightly, holding you tightly to his chest. “Was the day you fell into my life,” he whispered into your hair, his hot breath fanning over your scalp.

“Bucky,” you said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he snuggled closer.

Sleep didn’t come easy again, every twitch of him against you made you wake up. Every deep breath made your breath hitch. You were afraid he was slipping again, back into his mind. You feared he was caging himself into his mind, screaming for help he wouldn’t dare ask for.

You felt hot tears well up in your eyes and your breath stuttered out as you tried to calm yourself. He was the one who was having nightmares, he was the one scared and here you were crying because of how it made you feel. You felt selfish. You cared so deeply about him, you fought so hard to make him realize you were there, forever. You weren’t going anywhere.

“Sugar,” his voice was coarse and thick with sleep. “Honey,” he cupped your tear streaked cheek and turned your face toward him adjusting so he was propped up on his arm. He peered down at you, his eyes swimming with so many emotions you couldn’t place just one. “What’s the matter?” He asked softly.

You brought your hand up and stroked his stubble covered cheek and let the tears come freely. “I’m worried about you,” you whimpered out. You hated how emotional you were, you were so quick to cry when emotions got high.

“Ssssh,” he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead. “I’m fine sweetheart, it was just a nightmare.” You took a few deep breaths and tried to compose yourself.

“It’s more than just a nightmare,” your voice was small, fragile. “You’re slipping again,” you didn’t want to sound like you were accusing him of anything. Something in his eyes broke, you were prepared for him to do what he would usually do, put a wall up and ignore it until it exploded out of the seams. His shuddering breath caught you off guard.

“I am. I’m sorry I tried to hide it,” he said softly, he was half lying on top of you, his big hands holding your head and stroking your face, his hot breath fanned over your face as he stared into your eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll leave. If you knew about the things I’ve had to do. The things I’ve done.” You went to speak, he shushed you again. “Not before. Now. The things I do on missions. I’m not sure I’m a soul you can save my sweet angel.”

“Bucky,” you placed your hand over his and slipped your fingers between his. “I’m not leaving. I promised you.”

“Heaven is going to come for you one day. When they realize you’re missing,” he murmured and rubbed his nose against yours.

“I traded an eternity to come and hide away with you,” you whispered back, relaxing under his weight as he settled.

“I’m never gonna give you back,” his voice was soft, and he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. You were his sugar, his sweet angel, his everything.

Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list ❤️

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #fluff #marvel #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x Sugar #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine

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moonit3 · 2 days

Text

˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ MAKING YOU MINE

⟡ cw: male yandere, biting, blood, violence towards reader, amab/m! reader but with neutral pronouns, implied future noncon but nothing written about it, choking, toxic behavior.

⟡ word count: 1.5 k

⟡ yandere! male boss x amab! reader

⟡ notes: can this be considered as a rewrite? probably not, since there isn’t much than a few similarities between the original piece with leonard and this one is way better, I promise. unfortunately this won’t include any nsfw content as i still struggling how to write amab! readers, so please don’t mean to me.

when your boss invited you to attend one of the most popular conferences of the world, you had to accept it. not only you would gain an extra bonus from the next couple of months, but also who doesn’t enjoy staying in a five star hotel with everything paid? you didn’t waste time to pack your stuff and travel across the word along with leonard, the ceo of the company you works at.

your mind already made plans to relax at a grand hotel room that has the size of your childhood house, perhaps a bath full of bubbles? sleeping in a bed so soft that makes your body think is clouds? or even better, eating all the food from the menu! that would be amazing plans if you haven’t learn that you will be sharing the same room with leonard himself…

“you look quite disappointed,” he said. “didn’t you know that as my assistant during the conference, you will have to share the bedroom as a way to prevent you from leaking information about my next project.”

the man arrange his tie when his eyes stare at you laying down at the king size bed, already having given up after learning the horrible news of having to be his unwilling roommate for the rest of the travel. it’s almost comical to see that one of his employees is now looking like a dead corpse, he would laugh if hasn’t worry about your current state.

“bold them to assume that i would remember of those secret projects when i can’t even remember of what i ate yesterday.” a laugh came out of your throat when rolling over the bed to reach for your phone. without thiking much, you began scrolling over social media to find something interest or a silly game to lose time before today’s conference start.

when you do find some game worth to waste time, your phone was quickly stolen from your hands by no other than leonard himself.

“give me that!” you got up from the bed and tried to reach for your precious little phone at his hands, even standing on the tips of your toes to try to grab it from him. “don’t be stupid, sir! you are too old to act like a little kid.”

of course, your words didn’t made any difference on his behavior. what would you expect from a guy who inherited dad’s company instead of climbing the social ladder to archive it? you know that leonard is one of those guys who think they can have anything by using money or threats. and you have a feeling that you will fall into his trap soon.

between one of your attempts to reach out for you smartphone, he throws your precious item away into the ground, smashing it in million pieces all over the wooden floor. the sudden loud noise made you freeze in front of him, too scared to act out of fear of what he is going to do next. is he angry at you for acting this way? you hope not, he is the one to blame for it. and he was the one that started it.

silence took over, you didn’t dare to speak a word with leonard’s sharp eyes looking down at your face. damn it, why he got to be so tall? he already looks so intimidating during work hours back at the company and now having smashed your phone to the ground only twice that feeling growing inside your body.

before you create any courage to say a word or two, he began laughing like a mad man while you can only imagine what is going on inside his head. seconds ago, he looked ready to yell at you for his own mistakes and now he is just laughing? rich people are weird, your grandfather was right.

one of his hand lays on your cheek, caressing it like he has known you for ages. it seems that make him feel better, his lips curves into a small smile with his finger trancing all over you [pale/tanned/dark…] face.

in your perspective, his affection or whatever you call that, it’s making you feel horrible. the expression on your face says all, you aren’t comfortable by having a man touching your face like this and you wish he stopped with it. however, when you try to move away, leonard harshly grabs your face and brings you even closer to him. his touch on your face is cruel, almost like he could rip apart the skin away from your cheeks and just throw you across the room.

“you are pathetic, [name].” he said. “you know that, right?”

his words hurt you, it made you feel horrible knowing that a man you often look up to is saying something like that right at your face. between the newly sobs coming out of your throat, you manage to beg him to let it go and unfortunately, he doesn’t listen to your pleading. instead, his grip only gets tighter as he brings your closer to him, now you can feel his breath right at your neck. the smells reminds you of those expensive drinks and even more expensive cologne that you could only dream to afford for yourself.

your mind was preparing you for a slap, maybe a punch right onto your nose that would leave you feeling like a piece of trash. but imagine your expression when you only felt his lips brushing against yours in a lustful and rough kiss. by your instincts, you succeeded push him away, just for a fleeting moment you saw his eyes full of fury, making you freeze.

“i-I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t meant to—“

you didn’t get to finish your pleadings, not when leonard’s hands quickly wrapped around your throat and began squeezing it like you were nothing, but one of those squishy toys. his strength is too much for you to fight against it, so you simply give up in trying to put up a struggle for him.

it took less than a minute to your vision to become pure darkness, leaving you completely at the mercy of your boss. even with your mind telling to open your eyes and try to put fight, you body can’t handle simple commands to put a fight against him. indeed, you are stupid to believe that you had a chance to fight leonard…

…..

….

…

water.

the liquid that means essences of all living being of this planet flows over your naked skin, hitting the large bruise around your neck left and the freshly ones that leonard gave you as the result of trying to mark you as his only. the crimson coming out of newly formed bite marks around your chest and neck was way too much be clean by a cloth. so he had to bring you inside the bathtub, took off your clothes and didn’t waste the chance to join you in.

there isn’t a place where leonard hasn’t touch your sleeping body, well with the exception of a certain place. the man would wait to tease your cock for when you fully regain your consciousness, just so he can admire your lewd expressions and record it to keep you in place. he knows it’s wrong, but can he blame himself when you are just too addicted? you are a drug that he can’t control it and he wants more and more of the weird sensation that you brings to him.

once the blood stopped coming out of your injuries, leonard decided it was the perfect time just relax inside the bathtub without caring about the world outside this hotel room. he turned the water off, letting the cold air hit his skin as the water disappeared down the drain. even sleeping, you body searched for a heat source and as he expected, your body moved around to find a heat source that is him.

it’s pathetic how your body acts without any shame to get closer to his, trying to bind yourself onto him to keep yourself warm. how leonard wishes to have brought his waterproof camera to catch this intimate moment between you and him, but there is no worry when he knows there will plenty of moments like this to record in a soon future.

he knows your life won’t be the same when you open your eyes to see your boss handing your naked body so personal, and leonard can already imagine how surprised you will be when hearing about your new position as his spouse. will you try to fight with him? probably not, only if you wish to carry more marks over you body. the most applaudable possibility is you agreeing with his statement with fear controlling both your physique and mind, afraid that he will killed you.

“my dear mine,” carrying your sleeping figure towards the bed, leonard can only smirk when taking a final look before putting a robe on you. “you have no idea what you makes me feel.”

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

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cassiaratheslytherpuff · 2 days

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How about James and Sirius telling each other what they would reward the other with for every O they get in their n.e.w.t.s.? 👀 They always motivate each other to get even better at basically anything. Both with their competency kink hehe

Competency kink, my beloved! <3 Thanks for the prompt! (idk if it's still Friday everywhere, but where I'm at I made it in time)

“I’m so bored with these exams,” James said, forcing back a yawn and flopping back onto the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. “It’s not like we really need them for anything.”

Remus looked up from his book, and James could have sworn his eye twitched. “You’re bored?” he demanded, clutching his quill in a death grip.

James shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone’s busy studying and have a complete meltdown at even the hint of noise. So, I’m bored.”

Peter, who James had thought was fully asleep, but who had apparently just been trying to absorb the information in the book he’d been using as a pillow by osmosis, sat up. “You could always study like the rest of us?”

James shrugged. He didn’t really need to. He knew everything well enough, and he could never make his brain focus on revising something when he already mostly knew it.

Sirius snorted, clearly seeing James’s thoughts without him having to say anything. “The day Prongs starts revising of his own free will is the day I start wishing I was sorted Slytherin.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I can’t help but notice you’re not revising either.”

“Can’t be arsed,” Sirius said, offering an easy shrug.

��You couldn’t be arsed to come flying either,” James said. “So really it’s all your fault I’m bored.”

Remus slammed his book shut and James jumped. “If you’re not going to study, will you please shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I can’t study, I’m too bored,” James insisted.

“Make it interesting then,” Peter offered. He still had a crease on his cheek from the book he’d been sleeping on, and he was starting to look a little frayed around the edges. “You and Sirius can have a contest. Whoever gets more O’s wins something.”

Sirius sat up straighter. “Oh, I like that. What should we win?”

James studied him, feeling his interest rise. The thing was, he wasn’t bothered about his own NEWTS, but the thought of Sirius using that brilliant mind to outshine literally everyone simply because he could was an attractive one.

“If you get all O’s I’ll do that thing,” James offered. “You know, the one we talked about last week?” He shot Sirius a satisfied smirk when his eyes widened.

“The, er,” Sirius looked around the room, “the thing thing?”

He looked at James’s chest and James nodded.

Sirius grinned. “Oh, I’m getting all O’s.”

“And if I do?” James asked.

Sirius stood and walked over to James. He leaned down, and breathed so quietly into James’s ear that he almost missed what he was saying.

“If you get all O’s I’ll tie you to our bed and eat you out until you’re coming untouched.”

“Oh,” James said, feeling a thrill of arousal at the promise. “Yeah, I’m getting all O’s too.”

Remus groaned. “I’m glad you’ve found motivation to academically crush us all, but if you’re going to be studying now will one of you please explain to me exactly why you can’t vanish animals or insects, but plants are fine? They’re all living organisms, right?”

Sirius shrugged and jumped into an explanation, and James realised he’d made a terrible mistake because he wanted his reward so now, he actually had to study. But listening to Sirius easily explaining advanced Charms made him want nothing more than to pull him upstairs so he could listen to Sirius saying that exact same thing while breathless and moaning.

#hot prongsfoot friday #prongsfoot #james x sirius #cassiwrites #ask #prongsfoot fanfic

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whitedarkmoonflower · 11 hours

Text

Dream

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: @foxyanon this is for you. Your request was absolutely amasing and I just hope I've done justice to it. 💖My warmest thanks to lovely @arcielee for beta reading, you are awsome and your comments literally made my day 😘

Warnings: angst, longing, some lowkey SMUT 18+ nothing explicit, use of she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 2,6 K

Inspired by the The Apparition by Sleep Token

Why are you never real? Whenever you appear You leave me with that grace I am trembling with fear But I know that you will disappear Just as I awake Whisper in my ear Well, I believe Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

He awoke with a silent cry trembling on his lips, hands instinctively reaching to wipe tears from his wet cheeks, his breath panting as if he were drowning in his own sobs. He had dreamt of her. Again.

The sensation lingered in his fingertips: the soft touch of her palm against his, the echo of her laughter wrapping around him like a warm summer breeze on a cool evening. He couldn’t recall her face anymore. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure she was real; just a fleeting memory or fantasy conjured by the ghosts of his past, taunting him anew.

And yet from the moment he had set his foot on Dunholm’s rocky ground, he dreamt of her almost nightly. The sweetness of their shared moments intertwined with the bitter ache of longing, all overshadowed by the burning flame of guilt for having failed her, that made him wake up with a cry, forehead covered in sweat and heart racing.

Sihtric’s eyes wandered the small room, slowly adjusting to the darkness, disturbed only by the faint glow of the waning moon. With a deep sigh ripping through him, Sihtric swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up. His bare feet brought him to the window. The rough uneven wooden floor was a constant reminder of the past times indelible from the deepest corners of his mind, of times long ago when his feet pounded the very same wooden floor, with each step carving the memory of these paths into his very being.

The dreams were too real, clinging to him with all the colours, smells and sounds, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. A taste of remorse and longing.

Sihtric lifted his hands, shielding his eyes with his palms and gently rubbing them, as though attempting to cleanse himself of the haunting impressions left by the dream. He had seen her so clearly, the colourful images spinning around in his head.

Her hair loose and billowing in the wind, her merry laughter a bright messenger of joy as she skipped through the meadow, the gentle fingers of the rising sun caressing her glowing skin.

She was the light in the darkness, the breeze of the fresh air in his lungs. Her laughter was a thread through the haze of his crippled existence. Just as the damp earth after a rainfall carries the scent of rebirth, her aroma was that of a promise of a new beginning – a gentle mix of sweet wild berries and midsummer flowers woven into her hair.

His body and mind ached for her, longing for their fingers to intertwine as he would willingly follow her wherever she led.

And then the kiss – his very first. Fingers trembling, heart pounding against his chest like a wild drum. She leaned against the sturdy trunk of the oak tree by the river, the tranquil sound of water splashing against the sandy bank filling the air. Pressing his palm against the rough bark, he sought to steady his racing heart, drawing strength from the solid presence of the majestic giant. The softness of her pale skin thrilled him as his other hand gently touched her cheek, tenderly guiding her gaze towards him.

“I… I want to kiss you,” he whispered softly, his breath catching in his throat, drowning in the depths of two sparkling eyes, pleading for his touch.

“What are you waiting for?” A sweet, lighthearted giggle echoed around him, and he released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. With closed eyes, his dry, chapped lips timidly brushed against her soft ones, like a fragile whisper dancing on the edge of a sigh, like two lonely travellers adrift in the vast expanse of a starlit night, seeking refuge and salvation.

“Sihtric ...” his name rolled off her lips, mingling with a soft whimper as his both palms cupped her face, their breaths picking up.

Sihtric's fingertips traced down to his lips, pausing there. He stood motionless for a moment, leaning against the window frame, arms crossing over his chest and breath catching in the cool night air as he attempted to summon her face from the depths of his memory. Yet it remained elusive and all he found was shadows dancing in his mind's eye. A silent curse escaped his parted lips. He had long ago banished these memories, fortified them behind a wall of self assured certainty that there was nothing he could do, that it was for the best.

The mocking grin of the moon looked down at him from the height of his throne in the nightly sky. It sent shivers down Sihtric’s spine.

"I didn't abandon her, I was sent away," Sihtric whispered, the words barely audible over the night's gentle breeze. "Away... away... away..." echoed through the empty yard, his own voice a cruel taunt. "I inquired about her in the village after the fall of Dunholm, but no one knew anything.”

The sound of his fist connecting with the wooden wall shattered the serene silence of the night. The impact reverberating through the stillness like a thunderclap – hollow and darksome.

Yes, he had searched for her. A solitary visit to the nearby village where he knew she hailed from, greeted by anxious faces hastily retreating into their ramshackle homes, peering cautiously through the safety of their shuttered windows. The presence of Danes had always brought fear and uncertainty to them.

He had inquired about her at the small, dusty inn, amidst discussions of purchasing horses and timber to aid Ragnar in repairing the damaged gates. The host, suspiciously eyeing them, poured ale and swiftly pocketed the silver Uhtred had tossed his way.

Sihtric wasn’t sure what he had feared more: finding her happily married, her eyes denying him recognition and filled with fear, or discovering her waiting for him, unable to offer her anything. Nevertheless, he asked, quickly finding satisfaction in the host's indifferent shrug, as he explained that many had left in recent years due to meagre harvests, and there were no women matching Sihtric’s description in the village.

It was that one moment as they mounted their horses, Sihtric thought he heard her voice, calling his name. He cast a wary glance around the deserted square, the only sound a mocking crow's cry echoing through the stillness. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel a vision, before leaving his past behind like a worn boot—ten long years ago.

And now he stood once more in this place—Lord of Dunholm, a title that sent a shiver down his spine with each utterance. The shadows began to shift, the night's veil slowly lifting to reveal the faint glimmer of the sun lingering behind the horizon.

“I... I crave you... it's something I can't conceal... I've never seen anyone so beautiful..." his breath grew ragged, the silkiness of her flawless skin beneath his fingertips stirring an excitement unknown to him.

"Oh God," she gasped, her body arching against the soft blanket of moss and grass he had carefully laid her upon, his clumsy fingers seeking their way to her core, hungry lips stealing the soft moan escaping her.

"Please, tell me to stop," he pleaded almost desperately, voice quivering, unsure, even scared of where this journey would lead them. Yet unable to release her, unable to tear his gaze from her.

“Don’t… please, don’t stop,” a shaky moan from her parted lips forced a low groan from him, his fingers dipping in her hot tightness. “It feels so good, too good… Sihtric, please, I want to feel more of it. I have never felt anything like this before,” she whispered through panting breaths.

He had never touched anyone like this before; his limited knowledge gleaned from overhearing drunken chatter around firesides or hushed conversations in the kitchens as staying unnoticed had become almost second nature to him.

His own breathing getting more and more uneven with each quivering whimper, each soft moan leaving her lips; he watched her body responding to his touch, her breasts heaving, gaze getting glazy and eyes rolling back into her head.

She seemed almost otherworldly to him—her eyes curious and trusting, unburdened by fear or suspicion, her smile so radiant it felt like the warmth of the first sun rays in spring melting the snow of his desolation.

What had he done to deserve the gods sending her his way? A vision on an early morning, peacefully gathering flowers in the solitary meadow by the river where he had brought the horses to graze for the first time. His resort, a ray of light, piercing the dark loneliness of his soul, keeping him from drowning in it.

Each time he returned, fear gripped his heart, his eyes scanning the secluded meadow, his back against the lonely oak by the riverbank. What if she didn't come? But she always did, and his heart danced with joy, bathed in the soothing warmth of her genuine smile.

It had been so long ago. He had been just a boy, falling in love for the first time in his life.

Sihtric rubbed his sleepy eyes. Not a day passed without him believing he had caught a glimpse of her—whether in the shadows of the long corridors, the dark corners of the spacious great hall, or even his own bedroom. He knew his mind played tricks on him, yet each time his eyes seemed to capture that fleeting silhouette; he couldn't resist leaping to his feet, reaching out only to grasp empty air.

Hastily dressing in his breeches and boots, he tugged on a linen shirt while descending the stairs, snatching his leather tunic on the way out. Urged by an inexplicable force, he allowed his feet to guide him to the stables where he mounted his unsaddled mare.

"Open the gates!" his voice boomed across the yard, jolting the drowsy guards into action. They hurried to obey their lord's command, their eyes wide with surprise as they watched Sihtric spur his horse into a gallop.

The old, majestic oak tree welcomed Sihtric with a soft rustle of its green leaves in the wind. Leaning his head against the mighty trunk, he pressed his palms against its weathered bark, seeking solace and reassurance in the tranquil serenity of its solid presence, just as he had done before.

“Oh Sihtric,” she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders, as he slowly forced himself inside her. The feeling of her tight walls gradually parting, wrapping around him and letting him in so overwhelming, he was afraid he would pass out.

Heart frantically beating against the cage of his chest, he froze, breath withheld, seeing tears pearling in the corners of her closed eyes.

“Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?”

A vehement shake of the head, her hips rising to meet him, was the only answer, and he leaned in, trembling lips brushing against her parted ones to kiss away the deep sigh drifting from them.

“I love you, Sihtric!”

“I love you too, and I always will,” he breathed, his hips starting to move, meeting hers with every slow thrust, breath quickening, like the rush of a rising tide.

He had never put much stock in the tales his mother whispered under the veil of night, her gentle hands pulling their only blanket tighter around him, shielding him from the cold. Stories of beautiful angels, guiding lost souls back to the light—until he encountered one. An angel in disguise, wandering the earth and plucking flowers from the meadow.

She arched her back, enveloping him in the embrace of her fragile arms, and he buried his face in the curve of her neck, drinking in her sweet, intoxicating scent, his deep moans mingling with her soft whimpers.

He had meant every word of it. Without a shadow of doubt clouding his mind, he had made a promise—a promise destined to be shattered in the days that followed, as the Norns had already woven the threads of his fate, laughing over his youthful resolve.

Tears blurred his vision as he made his way back to Dunholm. He had waited until the first rays of the sun, knowing it was futile, knowing she wouldn’t come, as it was not the right day. There had been no goodbyes, no sweet kisses sealing the promise to return—just a lonely heart carved into the thick bark of the old oak tree, the silent witness to their happiness.

The sound of a dry branch cracking beneath feet jolted Sihtric, prompting him to turn his head.

“My lord, are you alright?” a slightly concerned voice inquired, and Sihtric's moist eyes met two sparkling, mismatched pools of brown and blue.

“I... I’m...” he stammered, his own uncertainty mirrored in the growing fear in those eyes as they darted down to his chest, fixating on the pendant of Thor's hammer hanging there.

Before he could utter another word, two gentle hands released the wild flowers they were holding, allowing them to scatter to the ground as the young girl spun on her heels and began to flee.

"Wait, please! I mean you no harm," Sihtric finally found his voice, but the girl paid no heed.

Sihtric remained rooted to the spot, unable to shake off the shock that held him captive, his gaze tracing the slender silhouette as it vanished from view. Eventually, he stirred, though the girl had already disappeared into the depths of the meadow and the forest beyond.

Driven by an inexplicable compulsion, he followed. Though he didn't want to frighten her, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, propelling him forward through the thorny underbrush. Long branches reached out like bony arms, clawing at his bare skin and leaving behind bloody scratches and bruises, yet he hardly noticed. Emerging from the forest, he beheld a crooked house nestled amidst a small garden.

Approaching cautiously, Sihtric scanned his surroundings, searching for signs of life.

Engrossed in your work, you hadn't noticed anyone approaching. The weeds had begun to overtake your small carrot bed, a task long overdue for attention. A cough caught your attention, prompting you to straighten up and glance over, wondering who had ventured from the village to your secluded home.

You both just stood there, eyeing each other with disbelief and bewilderment. Sihtric shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other, unable to tear his gaze away from you, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Here you were—his ghost, his dream, the most beautiful face he had ever seen, his most cherished memory locked away from his consciousness due to its unbearable pain.

Your fingers released the hoe, letting it slip from your grasp to fall to the ground at your feet. Covering your eyes with your hands, hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you staggered, struggling to maintain control over your wobbly knees.

In two long strides, Sihtric was beside you, his strong arms encircling your shoulders, providing support. Torn between the desire to push him away and to melt into his embrace, you remained rooted in place, sobs wracking your body as he enveloped you in his warm presence, like a comforting blanket.

"Gods, you are here. You have always been here," Sihtric whispered, his lips grazing your hair. "My love… I… I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. Will you ever believe that? Will you ever forgive me?"

"Mom, in the meadow where you always send me to pick flowers, I met a Dane today," a girl's voice rang out, as she appeared in the doorframe of the old house, freezing in her tracks as her eyes widened at the scene before her.

"She is mine. Isn't she?" Sihtric asked, tears starting to flow freely down his cheeks, yet he made no move to wipe them away. He didn't need your confirmation.

With a soft thud, he allowed himself to sink to the ground, his knees meeting the damp earth of the garden as he buried his face into your belly, arms enveloping your frame. The fearless warrior and the Lord of Dunholm cried, unashamed of his tears, while your fingers gently stroked his hair.

Comment or write to me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

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