#like. just look at her. she is so stunning. so beautiful. so ethereal. so jaw-dropping. so gorgeous. so so sodbjdjndd

[baeshijima]

rosa in the enduring light event . . .

sniffle sob

#tears of sophie ; not themis #BITING MY FIST SHE IS STUNNING AS ALWAYS I CANT BELIEVE WE ARE FINALLY AT THIS EVENT AARFGGFHDJ #ngl this event has one of my top rosa designs #like. just look at her. she is so stunning. so beautiful. so ethereal. so jaw-dropping. so gorgeous. so so sodbjdjndd #i love her sm ☹️

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Greeting! Can I request Fem!Reader who has a cursed of being beautiful than Aphrodite since she was a child and made all mens obsessed with her. But Y/n cover herself with a mask and became a mysterious history legend who save trillions of people from their death. She was called ‘The Angel of Shadow’. Y/n was summon by Brunhilde to help her with Ragnarok. Once Y/n is next in her round she fight the god. But when the god took her down with a blow, her mask came off reveal her beauty. The god was shock and couldn’t help but keep staring at her beauty while fighting. But the god forfeit the match. Y/n try to look for him to ask him why but when the god found her, he went on one knee and said ‘Please, be with me for eternity. Your so beautiful.’ But Y/n slap him and run away, the god follow her trying to look for her and keep on saying ‘Be with me!’

You can chose your choice of characters.

-To some, beauty was a blessing, getting love, adoration from others, and getting attention from others, while to others, beauty was a curse.

-You had been ‘blessed’ with ethereal beauty, even as a child, people always told you how beautiful you were, their innocent awe and fawning giving way to obsession and want.

-You couldn’t tell how many times you had been kidnapped as a child, by those wanting to keep your beauty for the own, to always be able to admire it.

-That’s why you hid yourself, hiding away from others, wearing a mask in public to hide yourself, to give you just a bit of peace.

-You learned how to defend yourself, training with master swordsmen from around the world, so you could defend yourself against those who knew of you, who knew your beauty.

-You became something of a vigilante as you grew, taking down people and corporations who kidnapped others, other beautiful people, freeing the captives and capturing the wretches that would do that to others.

-While some saw you as a threat, not only to authority, but to those whose businesses you were ruining by freeing their captives, so many people saw you as an angel, The Angel of Shadows, is that they called you.

-The nickname embarrassed you so much when you read it in the papers, you hadn’t meant to become a beacon of hope, you just wanted people to stop with their shit with beautiful people.

-You died as you lived, a hero, stopping a truck filled with kidnapped attractive people, both adults and children, you saved them, but you took a bullet to save a child after one of their captors tried to attack you before the police arrived.

-In Valhalla, you ascended the same as you were when you died, as it was your prime, and you kept your mask as well, keeping your face hidden from the other warriors of the past and the gods, many who only knew you from your legend, that you were a strong swordswoman and that you were a vigilante.

-Brunnhilde approached you when Ragnarok was announced, asking you to fight for humanity.

-You knew that just like the gods, there were good gods and bad gods, which is why you chose to fight, to fight for the good that is in humanity.

-Your opponent was annoyed, seeing a petite human female standing across from him, feeling almost insulted that Brunnhilde would select you to fight him.

-You quickly proved why you had been chosen, your movements with not only your body, using well placed kicks, but your sword work was breathtaking, you had him quickly on his toes as your speed combined with your power made you a formidable opponent.

-He managed to get a few good hits in, knocking you back before he managed to knock your sword out of your hand.

-He backhanded you hard, sending you flying, rolling to a stop but you quickly rolled backwards, rolling to your feet.

-Your eyes widened as your mask cracked before it crumbled, falling to pieces at your feet, revealing your face, your stunning beauty.

-Eyes went wide and jaws dropped all around, even Aphrodite was in shock, her hands cupping her cheeks, “What a lovely maiden~” hearing her praise you only seemed to make your beauty grow, that Aphrodite herself had to praise you.

-Loki- His eyes were wide, gawking at you, completely frozen as you grabbed your sword, ready to continue fighting, a determination in your stunning eyes. Loki then stunned all by raising his hand, “I forfeit!” you were just as stunned as everyone else in the stadium, some didn’t believe Loki, thinking he was joking until he exited, leaving you standing in the arena as the winner, cheers quickly erupting around for you. You were confused, wondering why he threw the match, you sheathed your sword, turning to head back inside yourself. It was an hour later, and you were walking around, a small scowl on your face as you had been approached and hit on by so many different men that you were going to go and find a new mask, but you had a mission first, to find Loki. After searching and telling the men who approached you that you were looking for Loki, news got around to him and he popped out, a beaming smile on his face. You went to ask him why he threw the match before you flinched back as he kneeled, adoration in his eyes, “Marry me Y/N!” you folded your arms, hip popping to the side, a pout on your face, “You don’t even know me, why would you want to marry me?” he was quick to stand, taking your hands in his, “You’re beautiful and strong! What’s more to know?” Moments later he was on his back after you had judo thrown him over your shoulder before you stomped away, pouting, angry that he threw the match because you were pretty and wanted to get with you. He was quick to pop back up, becoming even more infatuated, calling after you.

-Thor- Your sword was quickly back in your hands, and you prepared to rush at him again, but you paused, seeing him lowering Mjolnir, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion. His posture relaxed as he felt a calming feeling wash over him, feeling calm just by looking at you. He had seen many maidens in his life, but none had the effect you had on him. He gripped the handle of Mjolnir for a moment, his eyes closing before he inhaled, looking up and speaking, “I forfeit the match!” jaws dropped, gawking at his statement as he turned, leaving you in the middle of the arena, you had stretched a hand towards him, taking a step closer, wanting to call out to him to find out why he had thrown the match as you were announced the winner, cheers filling the air. Once backstage you went to the medical facilities to get bandaged up, you weren’t terribly hurt, but you had wounds that needed a bit more treatment than just ‘walk it off’. When you exited you squeaked, bumping into Thor’s chest before you stepped back, looking up at him, an apology coming out on instinct, but he didn’t seem bothered. He stared down at you, surprised to see you there before his eyes went to the bandaged wounds, the wounds he caused, guilt gnawing in his belly that he was the one to hurt you. Your hands came to your hips, eyes narrowed in a slight glare, “Why did you throw the match?” He surprised you by kneeling, instead of answering, before he took one of your hands, pecking the back of it, making your face flush before he spoke, “Stand by my side for the rest of eternity.” His proposal stunned you, eyes widening before you glared, your anger making you look like you were pouting, taking your hand back, “Unbelievable.” You stomped off and he was quick to come after you, questioning why you were mad, not understanding why you were angry.

-Hercules- He knew that you were a maiden, as he had been upset that he had to fight a maiden, his sense of justice telling him to forfeit before your fight even started. You had impressed him with your skills, you were a trained warrior, a worthy opponent, but now, seeing you there, your beauty revealed he instantly boomed, “I GIVE UP!” shouts of shock quickly filled the stadium, your eyes had widened before you frowned, confusion filling you. You went to ask him why he forfeited the match before he approached you and instantly kneeled, “MARRY ME!” the whole stadium seemed to erupt with screams and cheers, gawking at his bold and sudden proposal. Your face had instantly turned bright red before you spoke, your voice low, “Why?” he seemed stunned by your question, like it was a trick before he smiled, beaming at you, “Because you’re beau-” you instantly swung with both hands, slapping both of his cheeks at the same time, “STUPID!” your action caused shock to ripple through the crowd as you glared, tears in your eyes, “Don’t ask me something like that if the only reason is because of my looks!!” you turned and walked out, after being announced the winner and many, including Aphrodite, who felt pity for you, as you wanted to be loved for your whole being, not just your beauty, and to be publicly proposed to like that on top of it, she knew it must have been embarrassing for you. Hercules sought you out after he returned backstage, running through the halls to apologize to you after Aphrodite offered him a bit of wisdom about what he had done to you. It was amusing to see you trying to keep the door closed between the two of you, once you opened the door, as he was just standing there, holding the door while you were trying your hardest to shut him out, a pout on your face as you were still mad at him. He apologized to you, making you freeze, only for a moment, not looking at him before you looked up at him, tears in your eyes and he froze, panicking that he had made you cry as you sniffled softly, letting go of the door, “I just…I just want someone to love me for me…” he kneeled, apologizing again, taking your hand in his, brushing your tears away carefully, now seeing you as just a maiden, wanting love, his fondness for you growing.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror loki #ror thor #ror heracles

[ryujenini]

Fluffcember Day 14

Jennie x Rosè - Thanking The Universe

It was cold out today and Jennie thanked the universe that she actually dressed up warm for once, it had been raining non stop for the past few hours and was gradually getting worse but the black haired girl wasn't going to let that ruin her day

she stepped out of her car ready to make her way into the café but as she turned around she bumped into someone, they fell to the floor and all Jennie could see when she looked down was a mass of long blonde hair, she quickly crouched down to check if the girl was okay and she was met by the most beautiful woman she had ever seen

her eyes piercing into her soul intoxicating her and setting her world alight, her glowing tanned skin making her look delicate and ethereal in the most elegant way, her golden hair framing her face perfectly, the bright colour adding to her mystical aura.

Jennie  had froze for a moment before the woman stood up before her which brought her out of her love filled daze, Jennie shyly started speaking "um hi I'm so sorry about that I should've been looking where I was going, I really hope you're okay, I didn't mean to hurt you, is there anything I can do to help you" to which the slightly taller girl chuckled at Jennie's sped up rambling before saying " no it's okay I'm fine, don't worry about me .....but maybe there is something you could do to help me" the cheeky smile and slight glint in her eye had Jennie swooning already, at those words Jennie's eyes lit up and she stumbled out a "yes I'll do anything" , the blonde  smiled at this and asked "can I get your number? We should go out some time, you're cute" to which Jennie's jaw visibly dropped, she was stunned to say the least but she wordlessly handed her phone over to the other girl who also swapped hers over and they both typed their names and numbers in before switching them back, Jennie looked down to her phone to read the girls name and she read it out loud loving the way it sounded "Rosie" even her name was angelic Jennie Thought

Before Jennie could say anything else Rosie  grabbed her hand and said "it was lovely meeting you Jennie, hopefully not for the last time .....call me" and just like that the Beauty had began walking away and Jennie was left standing by her car staring at her phone and for the 2nd time that day, thanking the universe for what had happened and wondering what she did to deserve this.

#fluffcember #blackpink #jennie #rosè #chaennie #kpop #fluff #imagine #one shot #drabble #fanfic #KimJeninies

[negative-speedforce]

How would your OCs' significant others react to seeing them dressed up for the first time?

Siv (With Gina or Hailey): Literally speechless. Full useless lesbian mode. Can not believe that a creature this ethereal exists, or that they can call her theirs. Probably does the human equivalent of a screenshot.

Hailey: Is fairly stunned, but still competent enough to compliment the woman she loves. She's honestly surprised how good Siv looks when they're not dressed like a homeless man.

Gina: Was honestly surprised at how good Siv looks dressed up, since they almost never do that.

Jay: Literally squealed the first time he saw Cassandra in formalwear, because he already thinks that Cassandra is the most beautiful girl alive, but she somehow looks even more stunning all dolled up. Could not keep his hands off her all night.

Cassandra: Even though the reason for her and Jay dressing up were just for a mission, she was absolutely stunned by how handsome he looked. Needless to say, they ended up almost failing their mission because they spent too much time making out.

Max: Was surprised with how well Kyle looked in a rented suit, and how it made his broad linebacker shoulders look so strong, and how it just made him want to do unspeakable things to him.

Kyle: Thought Max looked nice, and was developing a tiny crush on him, but considering that they didn't really know each other yet, he didn't have any visceral reaction.

Eric: "Who is this gorgeous man and what did he do to my husband" lol. As an anthropologist, Jacob is often covered in dust and dirt from whatever dig site he was at last, so Eric was surprised to see him so cleaned up for once.

Jacob: Kinda felt sorry for Eric, since he looked quite uncomfortable in a dress, and Jacob had never seen him wear one (Neither Jacob or Eric himself knew he was trans yet).

Onnie: For once, they lost their charm and charisma, because she was not expecting Pippa to look so pretty in formalwear, after all, she's only seen her in her superhero getup or in casual wear, so seeing Pippa all dressed up was a pleasant surprise

Pippa: Technically the first time Pippa saw Onnie dressed up was on TV, on the news at one of her father's business events. Needless to say, Pippa didn't even know who Onnie was yet and she still thought that that mysterious girl was so hot-

Jessi: The SECOND she saw Hyun-Ki in a suit, she knew he could be her stylish publicity boytoy. While she never was really attracted to him, she could tell just how attractive he was, and how much attention he commanded.

Hyun-Ki: At the surface, he felt transfixed, as if enchanted by Jessi's beauty. However, underneath the surface, Hyun-Ki was disgusted, and he wanted nothing more than for someone to finally see through Jessi's good-girl persona.

Marie: (for Qiara) could not keep her eyes off her all night. Tried to ignore Qiara because they weren't dating yet, but it was impossible (for Liah) Wasn't expecting a 6'3 Cardassian to be so femme. Cheers to you, Liah.

Liah: (for Marie) was honestly pretty speechless the first time she saw Marie dressed up- after all, the fanciest thing Marie had ever worn was her dress uniform. (for Qiara) almost passed out, because Qiara actually looked like a goddess, and while Liah knew that Qiara was essentially one, it had never really processed for her.

Qiara: (for Liah) Literally squealed because Liah looked so pretty and Qiara had never seen her dressed up so cute. (for Marie) Absolutely flabbergasted. Did not know how to respond.

Athena: Her jaw dropped, and she immediately got to work trying to convince Laila to go sneak off and take off those fancy clothes because she looked so hot-

Laila: Forgot to breathe for approximately thirty seconds because her girlfriend looked so stunning (and almost passed out)

Reyna: Thought Iorhael looked hot, but also kinda silly, considering that he still had that stupid shaggy mullet from when his long hair got caught in some machinery and Reyna had to cut it loose before his head got sucked in. (they are the disaster couple of all time)

Iorhael (Reyna's boyfriend): Absolutely stunned. The one (and only) time he ever saw Reyna dressed in actual formalwear was her own coronation, following the execution of her stepmother, Queen Carmen. However, the rule of Queen Reyna was short-lived, as two days later, she left the throne to her niece, Camille, and skipped town.

Pyrrha: Didn't really notice how Castor looked for a good few minutes, since she was so busy being self-conscious about how she looked, since she had let her friends pressure her into wearing a dress that exposed her scars. When she noticed, however, she was super awkward and she stammered out a "Y-you look g-great."

Castor (Pyrrha's partner): Was extremely proud of Pyrrha, since she had been donning heavy layered clothes and gloves to hide her cybernetics, but thanks to a little confidence boost, decided to go confront the woman who tormented her in style, in a dress that specifically showed off her prosthetic arm and the scars with it.

Aldrich: Couldn't believe that this absolutely beautiful woman was about to marry him. If he was capable of tears, he would be crying, but unfortunately, vampires are not.

Samira: It was their wedding, so Samira was honestly too busy crying happy tears to notice how good Aldrich looked in his suit (after her kidnapping, however, the photos from that are all she really has from her family)

Matt: Was honestly more nervous about what Dolores would think of him, since Dolores already dresses fairly formal most of the time already

Dolores: Couldn't believe that Matt was capable of looking so classy, since he normally dresses like a 13-year-old boy mixed with a surfer dude and a hobo.

And! Also! What they were wearing!

Siv

Hailey

Gina

Jay (is such a manwhore)

Cassandra

Max

Kyle

Jacob

Eric

Onnie

Pippa

Jessi

Hyun-Ki

Marie

Liah

Qiara

Athena

Laila

Reyna

Iorhael

Pyrrha

Castor

Aldrich

Samira

Matt

Dolores

#i REALLY need to make bios for iorhael and castor #ask revan #oc shit #practically-an-x-man

[jinv]

new game for you🕹️😚 let's show some love to gif-makers on this side and tag some whose coloring you love and gif-makers that you always admired!

cute here you go

@bangtanger : bro dude yo where to even begin best coloring on this site ever the blues the blacks insane its like matte but also super vibrant at the same time??? like i could scroll through karina's creations tags for dayssss literally wizardry is what she does with her gifs and shes the coolest person ever too ps i miss u and i hope ur safe

@jimimn : prettiest warmest coloring ever the reds and the oranges and the blacks im just listing colors at this point but its true and prettiest comp gifsets ever with the insane consistency and just so many colors but no grain or noise whatever like cant hear a single thing obsessed truly amazing fantastic never been done before (if u bring this up that i said this about u its false i lied)

@namchyoon : cyanjoon!!!! lifegoesmon!!! rainycle!!! im missing some i think but wowowowow prettiest cyan gifs ever i am a slut for cyan coloring and you always deliver! its your brand! the girls that get it, get it! and not to mention u gif at the speed of light and put out consistently amazing content for us all the time like how do u do it we are so blessed by you but seriously coloring insane quality insane no noise you're the best and i'm ur biggest fan ! always !

@kkulmoon : omggggggg i miss op bestie's gifs its rare but when we get it we are so so so blessed seriously still thinking about the sj blue silk shirt so clear so smooth i can literally touch and the blue pretty coloring !!!!! op's gifs are always so so so smooth and clear like everytime i look at them i slip and when i get back up i slip again because theyre so smooth :( teach me op

@jjungcooks : omg everytime i see their gifs i am just in awe ! snap i think you dropped something! my jaw!!!!! no seriously the prettiest jk gifs with the prettiest color ever its so warm and bright and im just so in love like hello your title wow jjk wow more like wow jjungcooks gifs wow not to mention the quality too?????? your gifs healed my eyes

@jihopes : best concept gifs ever !!!! still thinking about the black swan x black swan movie parallel gifset !!! insanity their mind so smart so big brained so creative so genuis also not gif related but their concept posters concept amazing !!!! truly never been done before !!!!!

@jinsbts : best jin gifs maker ever !!!!! i said what i said its true facts no wrong opinions here best jin gif maker ever on here ! and she's back best day ever but truly the best the concepts the moments and the coloring is always so so so pretty not to mention the insane clear quality

@chaylani : omg i can go on and on about elle's coloring so insanely pretty the pastels seriously its so so pretty!!! like i dont know what other word to say let me pull out my thesaurus!!! ethereal stunning beautiful no seriously the pastels like its your brand its your trademark and i know who made the gifs right when i see that iconic coloring its so pretty i want to cry

@kimtaegis : green !!!!!! what else is there to say but green !!!! insanity i am so obsessed i yell about it all the time but its true their gifs are so insanely green and the green i will never shut up about the green im sorry but its here to stay the green !!!!! most aesthetic and coolest gifs ever

@filmsout : everytime i see their gifs on my dash i am just jaw dropped hypnotized like the quality is so insane to me like its better than the originial??? 8k blu ray surround sound system ti-84 quality and also the coloring is so bright and i just my eyes are so lucky to witness such beauty and talent

@starcatching : SO SO PRETTYYYYYY their gifs are so pretty like the recent jin gifs so pretty the colors so pretty so soft like a warm hug makes very pretty jin gifs very very talented also the vampire sj comp consistency ! created consistency ! insane so so so good please continue blessing us with more jin gifs your talent is too good

@jung-koook : do i need to even explain myself here best gifs best coloring best sharpening best gif i said that already but its true so i must say it again best gif iconic very very iconic and i love every single one

and some other gifmakers i loveeee :

@sugajimin, @rkivedfiles, @hobeah, @hopekidoki, @loverjimin, @taee, @honsool, @taejinnies, @kimtaehyunq, @min-boongie, @namgination, @jeonjcngkook, @seokjinite, @bisexualrapline, @bangguks, @plaids, @jinvant, @taejoon, @jjoon, @lucid-jjin, @eternalbulletproof, @everythingoes, @seoksjin (some of them are not here anymore but i miss them and their gifs)

#this just made me realize i need to follow more blogs #anonymous #answered

[rocorambles]

Lifetime of Love

Pairing: Suga x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Overstimulation, Mythology AU, Demi-God!Suga

Prompt: Mythology

Summary: As the son of Aphrodite, Suga knows more than most when it comes to beauty and love. But knowledge and experience are two very different things. OR Suga finds true love.

A/N: This is my contribution for the HQHQ NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora

Being the son of Aphrodite has its perks. Even as just a demi-god, Suga is borderline ethereal, naturally drawing men and women to him with his dazzling silver hair, enthralling hazel-brown eyes, and coquettish charm. It’s effortless, the way he wakes up looking just as radiant as ever, the way his hair is naturally shaped and styled even after tossing and turning in bed. Clothing is just a technicality, just fabric he wears to not risk indecent exposure. Why waste time and effort thinking of putting an outfit together when he could wear a burlap sack and still have admirers flock to him?

It’s not a bad life and he knows others stare at him with envy, wondering what it’s like to be so beautiful, so loved, so wanted, so desired. Never an off day. Never a hair out of place. And truth be told, maybe more of his mother runs in him than he likes to admit, if the swell of pride and satisfaction he gets from having everything in life handed to him on a silver platter is anything to go by.

Life is easier for beautiful people. It’s a hard pill to swallow for the masses, but a reality that Suga has no qualms taking advantage of. After all, he might as well get some benefit from being a goddess's son, even if his mother and him don’t always see eye to eye.

Suga can appreciate beauty and love. Aphrodite has taught him to have an eye for the finer things in life. He’s not stubborn enough to deny that he enjoys waking up entangled in silk and satin sheets, surrounded by a beautifully decorated apartment, to reject the ecstasy he feels when he has one or more playmates in his bed.

But love of the flesh is different than love of the heart, and he wonders, despite how blasphemous it is to question a deity, if his mother truly understands what love is.

Aphrodite’s love is a seemingly fleeting and fickle thing, a fire that blazes bright and strong, only to burn out just as quickly as it had risen. And he judgmentally watches as she bounces from man to God to man to God again and again, grimacing whenever he meets his “family”, knowing how she’s slept with most of the other gods in Olympus.

He has no doubt that in her own way, she truly has loved each entity she’s slept with. But he wants something different, something less promiscuous, something less shallow. He wants true love, a love rooted in something much deeper than superficial appearances, a love rooted in a connection of souls, a love rooted in the bond of two people truly seeing and knowing each other’s flaws and strengths, yet still determinedly pursuing each other.

So he steadfastly continues on, searching for the one.

There’s no end to the line of people who practically throw themselves at his feet, desperate for a chance to catch his attention. He goes on endless dates, entering and leaving countless relationships. Some attempts are longer than others. Some partners have hope churning inside of him, have hazel-brown eyes sparkling in interest. But in the end, they’re all the same and the flutters of his heart become anchors of disgust inside of him when he sees their leering eyes, the lust driving their actions, the way they never see past his handsome face and attractive body.

No one sees Sugawara Koushi. They only see the body of a man literally blessed by the gods.

Maybe it was naive of him to believe that he knew more about love than the goddess of love herself. Maybe sleeping around with other attractive bodies is all his life will amount to, can amount to. And as he watches the people around him break-up, divorce, chase after some happy ending that seems more and more unattainable, he gives up his rose-colored dream of a fairytale romance.

But life has a funny way of dropping something in your lap just when you’ve given up all hope.

Aphrodite had not been amused when Suga had told her he was going to be a teacher at a local elementary school in the countryside. Children and parental instincts have never been her forte, and he remembers the long winding back and forths they had as she implored for him to rethink his decisions, flaunting modeling and acting opportunities in his face, anything to have his handsome face plastered on televisions and magazines.

But he had remained steadfast in his decision and she had finally relented, shaking her head and letting him know that she’d be ready to help him when he’s done wasting his gifts and time.

“You’re only part-god, Koushi. Your beauty will only last so long.”

He knows there’s no malice behind the words. It’s just a cold hard fact, a reminder. And he simply nods in response, secretly wondering if that would be so bad, letting age take its toll and put him on the same playing field as the rest of the world.

But he has years before he crosses that bridge and he dedicates himself to finding fulfillment in life by caring for and teaching the children in his class. A megawatt smile spreads across his face as he watch them play and excitedly call his name, politely ignoring his fellow teachers who parade themselves in front of him for an ounce of his attention, never entertaining the married mothers of his students who try to lavish him with unnecessarily exuberant gifts and woo him with fluttering lashes.

It’s a tiring never-ending dance, so when he hears about the arrival of a new female colleague, he internally sighs, no doubt in his mind that you’ll be just like the rest. So imagine his surprise when you just casually smile at him when you’re introduced, no interest in your eyes, no lingering gaze, before turning your attention away from him without a second glance back.

He wonders if it’s a fluke, hopes and prays that it isn’t. It’s almost comical, complete insanity, how his heart races, his eyes blow wide, just from your sheer nonchalance. And for the first time, it’s Suga who’s left wistfully staring as his eyes trail after your figure even long after you’ve turned the corner of the hallway.

He’s seen his mother’s work, seen the way humans pursue their love interests with almost fanatical effort. But he had never understood, not until now.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, addictive, the thrill of the chase energizing him in a way he’s never felt before. It’s hard, meticulous work finding reasons to visit your classroom, finding ways to weave himself in conversations you’re a part of. But it’s always worth it when he sees the genuine fondness in your eyes, the way you look and really see him, the way you care about the man underneath the shiny facade, in a way no one ever has before.

And when the two of you go out for a friendly lunch one day, when you order his favorite dish that he’s only briefly mentioned to you once in passing, without even missing a beat, his heart stops. It’s something no other partner has bothered even taking note of, too busy trying to impress him with high-end meals and fine dining. And just like that, he blurts out his confession, heart hammering, fingers nervously twitching as he awaits your response.

For many years to come, the two of you will debate whether or not that lunch counts as your official first date as a couple.

Dating you is everything he’s dreamed of and more. And for once, Suga feels like just another regular man, a normal human being as he holds your hand in his, giggling and sharing stories, feeding each other bites of food, lazing around on his sofa watching TV.

But as a romance movie runs in the background and the main couple kisses after the male lead raves about how stunning his lover is, he turns his attention to you, curiosity nagging at him, a tiny tendril of lingering fear squirming inside of him.

“What do you like about me?”

There’s silence as you owlishly blink and look up at him, surprise and confusion flitting across your face as you try and process where this question is coming from. But when you see the worry, doubt, and insecurity muddling your boyfriend’s eyes, you interlace your fingers with his and cuddle into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you continue gazing at him.

“I like the way you always insist on getting the highest spice level at every Chinese restaurant we go to that serves mapo tofu, even though you complain about your mouth burning all night long afterwards.”

Suga chuckles, unable to deny the truth of those words.

“I like the way you act like a clueless angel even when you’re wreaking havoc and chaos, you big trouble maker.”

This time Suga does try to plead innocence, although all he can do is sheepishly grin when you start listing off event after event of mischief he had instigated and encouraged, much to Daichi’s and Asahi’s dismay.

“I like how patient and gentle you are with your students and your old underclassmen. I like the way you nurture them, mentor them, encourage them to keep on going, keep on trying even when the going gets tough. And I like how you instill that belief in your own life. If we have children of our own one day, I know you’ll be the father I’ve always wanted for my future kids.”

The weight of your last sentence hangs heavy in the air, the meaning, the hope of a lifetime promise has Suga’s jaw dropping. But when you shyly look away, nervously biting your lip as he just dumbly stares at you, he jolts back to reality and you yelp as lips suddenly crash against yours.

Sex with Suga is always sweet, with a hint of spice when your lover is feeling particularly mischievous. But it’s never been like this, full of desperation, untamed desire, a want so deep that it leaves both your minds in a hazy disarray. You gasp as you’re firmly pushed down, until your back hits the couch and you’re moaning into the mouth pressed against yours, your tongues tangling with each other in an attempt to taste every crevice.

The wet sounds of your lips connecting and disconnecting over and over again, the frantic sounds of fabric being rustled and tossed off, they all mix in a passionate symphony punctuated by breathy declarations of love, by whimpered names.

You throw your head back as a hot wet mouth sensually carves a path down the column of your neck, to the delicate swoop of your collarbone, sighing in bliss as they end in the valley of your breasts, two hands gently tweaking and rolling your nipples. And then fingers are replaced with a tongue, with lips, and your back arches, body writhing, seeking more, more, more as you wildly grind against your lover’s body.

Usually Suga likes to take his time with you, unwrap you piece by piece, unravel the strings that tie you together, coax the prettiest sounds out of you. But today something more carnal, more desperate, more raw spurs him on, and he feels more beast than man as he devours you, plunders you, marks you as his for all eternity.

“Koushi!”

You wail as he wastes no time in quickly snapping his hips, filling your slick walls with his cock. There’s an urgency behind his pace you’ve never felt before and you dig your nails into his shoulders, eyes rolling back in your head, lewd moans echoing in the room as you wrap one leg around his back, the other dangling off the couch.

You’re not sure exactly what the trigger had been for this, but you’re not complaining, pussy walls only clamping down even more when you see the feral hunger in his eyes, the drag of his cock against your insides even more pronounced.

He can feel your end approaching, sees it in the way your head tosses side to side, the way your eyes glaze over, and he brings a hand between your bodies, toying with your clit, circling it, rubbing it, never losing his rhythm as you begin to convulse, body thrashing, nails scratching his skin, a debauched version of his given name rolling of your tongue. Only when you begin to whimper, shaking hands trying to grasp his fingers still playing with your oversensitive nub does he relent, smiling down at you as you entwine your fingers with his as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

Suga’s been told he looks like an angel time and time again, but as he stares down at your completely ravaged and exhausted form, the way your chest heaves up and down, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the after tremors of your body, the duality of how you cling onto his hand despite your wanton state, he thinks you’re the true angel here. Maybe a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless and he can feel his balls tighten, the last shreds of his endurance ripping apart at the seams as he takes in your breathtaking appearance.

But he needs more than that, needs you, needs you here and with him, and he meets your lips in a bruising kiss, a silent demand for your attention, adjusting his hands until your fingers are interlocked on either side of your head.

“Look at me.”

He patiently waits, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, slowing down the rocking of his hips. You’re so tired, heavy eyelids wanting nothing more than to close, but you’re still in a rocky ocean of pleasure, body still registering and reacting to every touch, every move. And when his soft voice makes its way through the fog, you know you need to listen, you want to listen. So you turn your eyes until they lock with hazel-brown, a weak smile plastered across your face when you see the love and affection pouring down onto you.

“I love you.”

Both of you grin as the three words unanimously exit your mouths, but the smile is wiped off your face as he resumes his pace, tempo beginning to stutter, his own head being thrown back in ecstasy as he approaches his end. Your overstimulated body is barely hanging on by a thread, pathetic mewls dripping from your lips, and you keen when sticky spurts fill you, Suga’s cock buried balls deep inside of you as he breeds you, coating your quivering walls with his essence.

Suga gently lowers his body on yours, capturing your mouth in another kiss, one much gentler as both of you catch your breaths, bodies feeling soft and pliant as post-coital bliss wraps around you like a fluffy blanket.

Beauty is a fleeting thing. His mother’s not wrong about that.

But love? Love isn’t nearly as fickle as beauty, he thinks, as he holds you in his arms. And he smiles, letting himself be lulled to sleep by your rhythmic breathing, dreaming of the long and full life still ahead for both of you.

#haikyuu smut #suga x reader #sugawara x reader #suga smut #sugawara smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fic #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader

[spacedikut]

“would you please put your tongue away” ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer can’t handle how good you look in your dress. he also can’t handle another guy asking you to dance. 2760 words

a/n: taken from this prompt list :)

“…It’s highly inappropriate.”

Someone waves a hand in front of Spencer’s face and he’s brought back to reality – surrounded by people from every FBI department in a far too bright room with champagne that is certainly not worth the amount it costs and in a suit that is a little too tight.

“What?” He asks.

“I said,” Derek grins, “Would you please put your tongue away.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow at that, “My tongue is firmly in my mouth, Morgan.”

Derek gives a scoff. He wishes Emily was with them to attest, but she’s across the room, beside you, stuck in a conversation with some “important” person that Hotch made a point to tell the team to suck up to.

“If Y/N can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you drooling she’s sure to know you’re obsessed with her.”

In panic, Spencer wipes his mouth just in case he is in fact drooling. That gets a hearty laugh from Derek, and Spencer huffs indignantly, “I am not obsessed-“

“When you saw her all dressed up earlier you had to leave the room, Reid. That isn’t a platonic reaction.”

“Well,” He stutters, glancing over to you and scanning your bare back, “She looks- she-“

“She took your breath away, man. It’s okay.” Derek gives him a pat on the back and smirks at him, coughing to cover a chuckle when Spencer glares at him.

“And who is this majestic being that took Doctor Reid’s breath away?” It’s you, Prentiss and JJ trailing behind, delicately holding a champagne flute in your left hand and a business card in your right.

Spencer flounders, taken off-guard by your approach and the close-up view of you in your dress. He doesn’t know much about fashion, let alone dresses, but God do you look like something straight out of a movie. To him, you’re the embodiment of all the love poems and romantic monologues that his mother used to read him. He always wondered what the beauty all those writers saw looked like, and if he’d ever see something so celestial, and then you walked into his life.

He’ll never recover. Especially when you keep reminding him how perfect you are.

“Someone’s been networking,” Derek nods to the business card, noticing Spencer’s struggle and swooping in to save him. Derek loves to tease Spencer, it’s his favourite thing to do, but there’s always a time and a place, you know?

You fiddle with the card, “A little pretentious, but he mentioned having some paperwork trouble and I offered to help. I thought if I got in his good graces he’d help us keep the jet.”

Just then, the band at the back of the charity event plays a slow tune, everyone coupling up to head to the dancefloor. Before you or Spencer can react, Derek is dragging Emily away and JJ goes to find Will, but not before all three of them send some kind of subtle gesture to Spencer – Derek winks, Emily raises her eyebrows and looks between you and Spence, and JJ nudges him as she passes.

Spencer’s entire body locks up. He can’t do this. Whatever this is.

When he doesn’t move, you offer him your hand, “Would you care to dance, Doctor Reid?”

His body eases and he can’t help but smile because you’re you, “It would be an honour, Miss Y/N,” He laughs, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.

You tug him onto the outskirts of the floor – being in the centre is both of your worst nightmares – and Spencer’s other hand falls to the small of your back, pulling you close. You’re chest to chest, your arm falling in place around his shoulders, but even with heels on he’s still got some height on you. You sway to the music in perfect sync, like you’ve done this a million times, and your eyes subconsciously close from the comfort of being in Spencer’s arms and the feel of him against you.

You concentrate on your feet for a few beats, too shy to look him in his clear, brown eyes. When you finally look up to meet his gaze, you can’t help the soft smile that appears. He’s already looking at you.

Spencer returns it, smile equally as fond.

The lights of the room reflect in his eyes – it’s as if they’re twinkling, like stars, and it’s utterly mesmerising. For a second, you forget you’re at a fundraiser event, on business, surrounded by your team and people from all departments and all positions. You feel like you’ve been whisked away to some faraway land, maybe somewhere that isn’t filled with killers and evil, and you and Spencer are lovers simply enjoying the night and eachother’s company.

“You look beautiful,” Spencer whispers, as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. You wonder if he feels the same way you do.

“Thank you. I was waiting for you to compliment me.” You tease.

“Oh? Does my compliment mean that much?”

You giggle nervously. You love when he teases you back, when he has this confidence that always surprises you.

“More than I’d like to admit,” You say, “But I did also spend all day getting ready, so I want my hard work appreciated.”

“Well,” Spencer swallows, eyes flickering to your collarbones and neck and everywhere on you, “Consider your hard work appreciated. Not just by me, either. I think I’ve got a lot of glares being shot at me right now.”

You break eye contact to survey the room. There’s definitely a good number of people staring at you, but you refuse to believe they’re all jealous of him. He looks dashing in his suit, hand-picked by Rossi himself, and you know you’re not the only one to notice. You see the beauties dotted around that keep checking him out.

Another ballad begins so Spencer keeps you close. He scans the side of your face, how your nose peaks and the makeup you’re wearing illuminates all of your features. He’s hopeless at makeup, too, but the colour of your eyeshadow(?) suits you perfectly. You always look perfect, he realises. Being ethereal comes naturally to you.

“Excuse me,” A voice interrupts.

Both of you snap towards him. Travis.

Travis works in.. a department. A stupid one, probably. Spencer thinks Travis sucks.

“Hi, Trav,” You smile. You like Travis – of course you do. You’ve known him longer than you’ve known Spencer, so how does Spencer stand a chance?

“Evening, Y/N. Evening, Spencer.” He gives a polite smile.

Spencer returns it with his jaw set.

“Could I steal you for a dance, Y/N? Just like during our graduation ball?” His eyes are hopeful, and Spencer looks at in you confusion. What graduation ball?

You agree shyly, “Sure, Trav. Is that okay, Spence?”

He doesn’t know why you’re asking him – you both know Spencer’s too socially awkward to say no. So he nods, gives a tight lipped smile, and sharply turns to walk straight towards the bar. He doesn’t want to see Travis gently grasp your hand and pull you close, just like he had done.

But he’s not jealous.

“Water, please.” Spencer says to the bartender.

Someone slides up beside him. He glances at the shoes – Italian leather – and he knows it’s Rossi. He’s standing with a whiskey in his hand and a pitying gaze.

Spencer takes a big gulp from his glass of water like it’s a shot of straight vodka.

“You know he’s gonna make a move on her.” Rossi announces. Spencer takes another gulp.

“What?”

“I overheard him and his friends. They were in the academy together, and after seeing her tonight he’s decided now it’s time to make a move. Even stopped me to ask if she was single because he saw how close you two were out there.” Rossi shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink, gaze burning into Spencer as he does it.

Spencer knows what he’s doing. He’s trying to rile him up, get his feathers ruffled, for him to, what? Fight Travis on the dancefloor? Run up and steal you?

“I’m sure…” He starts, slowly, “If someone, say, Emily, who disappeared outside, had a sudden emergency… Y/N would drop Travis in a second.”

Spencer looks at him. Rossi raises his eyebrows.

“Excuse me.” Spencer says.

Rossi grins as he watches Spencer almost charge towards you.

There’s a hand on your shoulder and you know it’s Spencer, and when you turn he’s out of breath.

“Emily-“ He pants, “I think she’s- she’s sick. She’s outside and asking for you.”

“Oh, God,” You gasp, hands immediately leaving Travis completely to instinctively grasp Spencer by his arms, something you’ve always done.

Spencer’s heart warms at your concern – of course you’re so genuinely concerned for one of your best friends. Could you be anymore perfect?

“Let’s go, Spence.” You glance at Travis, feet already moving, “Sorry, Travis, it was lovely to dance with you!”

Travis watches you flutter away, knowing very well that that was his once chance and he lost it. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that Spencer is lying – at least a little.

Travis could tell Spencer wasn’t happy when he asked if he could dance with you. The unimpressed look in Spencer’s eyes whenever they made eye contact solidified that.

Travis can’t blame him, if he’s honest.

Outside, the cold is starting to set in, but you’re too panicked to notice or care. Your head darts left to right, searching for Emily. You spot her, in her stunning red dress, and go to call for her. But then she laughs, head thrown back, and takes another sip of her drink.

She’s fine.

You turn to Spencer, confused, “I thought she was sick?”

He looks sheepish and you laugh as he says, “I may have told a little lie.”

“Spencer!”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry.

“Well why-“

“Since we’re here, why don’t we go look at the fountain? I saw you eyeing it when we arrived.”

You want to ask why he interrupted you and Travis, but you’re not given the chance. Spencer’s large hand holds the tip of your fingers and he gently pulls you towards the stone fountain, where it stands with several tiers and the soothing sound of running water. There’s a statute in the centre – a woman wrapped in some kind of shawl.

“My guess,” You say, arms crossing, causing Spencer to take a sharp intake of breath, “Is the statue is based on the forlorn sculptor’s lover.”

Spencer’s body deflates as releases a deep breath. He thought you were onto him and why he ruined your dance.

“Actually,” His hands move to emphasise his point, “One of the most common purposes of sculpture is in some form of association with religion-“

“Why did you interrupt Travis and I?”

Uh oh.

“Did I look uncomfortable?” You wonder, “Because I can handle myself, Spence.”

You tried to resist asking again. But something about what he did bothers you – if you didn’t want to dance with Travis, you would’ve said no or made an excuse to not have to. If you didn’t want to be around Travis, you would’ve walked away from him. No matter what, you could’ve dealt with it yourself. Does Spencer disagree?

He licks his lips out of nervousness, shakes his head and mumbles a, “No, that’s not it.”

You turn to face him. His hands are in his pockets and he’s staring at the ground as he shuffles his feet. Rossi will have a fit when he sees the shoes he hand-picked have marks on them.

“I needed to get you alone. I’m sorry.” Spencer squirms. He can’t make eye contact.

“What?” You ask, brows furrowed, “Why? Is something wrong?”

“He was..” He trails off and clears his throat, “He was gonna ask you out. I couldn’t- didn’t want to let that happen.”

Your confusion increases. So he does think you can’t handle yourself?

There’s a spark of frustration in you, then. You’ve dealt with being underestimated and babied basically your whole life and Spencer knows that. He also knows you’re a trained FBI agent that has saved his skin more times than you care to count – he knows better than anyone that you can handle yourself.

So what the fuck.

“I appreciate the concern,”

Spencer winces at your tone. This is… not going well. Not going how Spencer wanted it to, or planned. Not that he had a plan beyond getting you and Travis as far away from one another as possible.

“But I can guarantee I do not need you to loom over me and scare boys away, Spencer. You’re not my father.”

Your tone is biting and Spencer moves closer to placate you.

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N, I’m sorry that’s- I know you can handle yourself. Very well. I still have the scar from when you thought I was a robber in your house-“

“You shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on me, Spencer Reid-“

“Rossi overheard Travis saying he was gonna make a move on you and it was like I went on auto-pilot and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears and-“

“I can take care of myself, Spence.”

“I couldn’t let it happen because I want to date you.”

He looks at you then, gaze so intense you feel frozen where you stand. He continues.

“But I’m sorry if you were planning to say yes to Travis and I… came in and ruined it. Maybe you’re into him and I just… delayed the inevitable for no reason other than to humiliate myself.” He gives a tight lipped smile, rolling onto the tips of his feet and then back on the heel.

You let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “I wasn’t going to say yes to Travis, Spence. It’d be pretty damn rude for me to date him when I very much like and want to date you.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he gives a toothy, hesitant smile, “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” You step closer. Spencer can’t take his eyes off you, not that he’s been able to at any point tonight, but now you can tell he can’t help but ogle at you.

It makes you feel fuzzy inside, that mix of excitement and nerves that you always get around Spencer.

“Well, what should we do about that?” He teases, but some anxiety shines through. He’s genuinely asking.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” You ask.

He sputters, “Uh- yes. That would be completely okay.”

“Well then,” You smile, “Come here.”

As if you’ve done it a million times, Spencer’s hands cup your face as he tugs you towards his lips. Your hands find his waist, softly gripping him as your eyes flutter shut and you feel Spencer’s lips for the first time.

Why does it feel so natural? So right?

Spencer has to pull back a couple of seconds later because he’s smiling so wide. You can’t resist and kiss his nose, and he giggles. He giggles.

God, you’re so in love with him.

Spencer glances at the statue standing at the top of the fountain.

“You think she’s angry that we’re kissing in front of her?”

You hum in consideration, “Definitely jealous. I mean, not everyone gets to kiss the most handsome guy at the ball.”

He can’t help but blush, and although you have a teasing tone you both know you genuinely mean it.

From where you’re standing you can still slightly hear the sound of the band inside – some kind of smooth jazz is being played now, nice and slow.

You turn and offer your hand to Spencer, just like before, “Another dance, kind sir?”

Spencer gives you a cheeky smile, “As long as you promise no Travis-like interruptions this time.”

He pulls you close, definitely closer than before as your lips nearly touch and you can feel his breath, and you rub the tip of your nose against his. “No Travis, no one, just us.”

“And the voyeur statue,” He gestures with his head towards the fountain.

You both look, and your hand leaves his shoulder to flip her off.

“Back off, hag.” You joke, and Spencer laughs at your absurdity.

Then you dance, for the second time, to the music that flows out from inside. Under the moonlight, with the twinkling stars, Spencer is convinced this is the closest to Heaven on Earth. With you, in his arms, dopey grins and loving stares.

God, he’s so in love with you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #i thought i liked this but then i left it for a day and now my opinion has DRASTICALLY CHANGED #decent idea. terrible execution

[donutloverxo]

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Note - this is part of my soft!reader universe and a sequel to on the run. You don't have to read them to understand this but I do suggest to check em out!

special thanks to sister wives @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @stargazingfangirl18 for their input!

Summary - Steve learns that good things are meant to be shared.

Warnings - smut, mfm threesome, wife sharing, daddy kink, dom Steve, dom Bucky, sub reader, rough sex, light anal stuff

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Word count - 2.6k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Bucky had always been a loyal friend to Steve. Steve was someone who was more than just a friend, their relationship transcends that of a traditional male friendship. They were brothers and practically family. Bucky protected Steve back when he was just a little guy from Brooklyn, not just because he needed it but also because he loved the little troublemaker. He will forever be grateful to Steve for protecting him and believing in him when no one else did.

Which is why he felt extremely disgusted with himself to have feelings, if one can even call them that, for you, Steve’s wife. The punk actually got himself a wife. A beautiful one at that.

Bucky was excited to meet you, especially because Steve couldn’t stop talking about you. He was obviously so proud of you. ‘You have got to meet her Buck. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.' He gushed.

And yeah he was pleased to meet you, but not in the way that would be considered proper. As soon as you shed your thick coat and put on that thin tank top, he could see your plump and curvy figure.

He had to fucking lay there and listen to your moans and whimpers as Steve fucked you just two feet away from him! Did you call him daddy? When the fuck did Steve become such a stud? He didn’t even know how to talk to women! The whole time he wanted to touch his aching cock, relieve some pressure. But that would mean he won’t hear your angelic sounds and cute but useless attempts to stay quiet. He did go to the bathroom to relieve himself. And yes he did think about you and how you must look naked. He was already going to hell.

He thought that would be the end of it. He would stay in Wakanda while you and Steve went to Europe. As much as he'd miss not being able to see you or get to know you, at least he wouldn’t have that kind of temptation.

But then a year later, unceremoniously, you came to his little house on the farm. You were staying in Wakanda for a month while Steve was on a mission.

‘I can’t stay in the palace.’ You lips jutted out slightly quivering as you looked at him hand Bucky had to do everything in his power to not hug you close to him ‘I don’t know anyone there. I miss home. I want to stay with you please.’ You begged.

And of course he said yes. How could he turn you away when you looked him with those puppy dog eyes, when he promised Steve he would look after you.

Living with you was as amazing as it was torturous. You lounged around the house in your small cotton 60s style nighties because ‘Stevie likes them and I do too!’ and of-fucking-course you hated wearing panties. He had gotten a generous view of your cunt at least three times. Sometimes he thought you did it deliberately. Just to tease him. But you seemed too innocent and sweet to play those kinds of games.

There was more to it then him getting to ogle your beautiful body everyday. You were kind, sweet, honest and funny. He could see why Steve was so crazy about you. With you around he didn’t feel so lonely. There was that night you sneaked into his room because you couldn’t stop worrying about Steve. He could see how homesick you were. He was also longing to go back home, only his home no longer exists. He cuddled you as you braided his hair and marvelled at how silky and soft it was.

The next morning you were back to your happy bubbly self. Having no idea that you had ruined him. He had a crush on his best friends wife. How do you tell someone that?

He didn’t feel jealous when you ran into Steve’s arms, kissing him all over his face when he came back. He cared for you both and you deserved each other. You deserved to be happy. Steve was just as happy to see Bucky and how you and him had become such good friends in just one month.

Bucky spent the next week catching up with Steve. There wasn’t much he could tell Steve about but he had plenty to share. Along with your wedding pictures and he was just reminded of how ethereal your beauty is.

What he never in a million years would have expected was for Steve to ask–

“Do you like her?” He asked but it was a rhetorical question. He didn’t really expect an answer.

“I do. There isn’t much not to like.” Bucky played dumb. He was dumb to think that Steve wouldn’t notice his lingering stares.

“You know what I mean.” He retorted his eyebrows furrowed.

“She’s – she’s beautiful. I’m happy for you. My feelings don’t matter.” He said honestly. No matter how much he desired you, he would never act on it.

“Turns out she might like you too” Steve said casually taking a sip of his whiskey leaving Bucky stunned.

Which is what led him here. With you completely bare, spare for your yellow panties with little red hearts on them. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, you stood in front of him, your nipples hard as you shivered. Steve knelt behind you to rolls down your panties leaving you naked as the day you were born in front of both the men.

Steve stood up on his feet, tossing your panties away. You hummed as kissed you under your ear. You relaxed as he massaged your shoulders. “Are you nervous princess?” He asked and you nodded. “What are our words?”

“Green for keep going, yellow for slow down and red for stop” You said biting your lip as Bucky’s hungry eyes took you in.

You were curvy, a lot like women back in his day. Your hips a bit larger than your bust, he couldn’t wait to see what your ass looked like. If it was as plump as he imagined. His hands were shivering, he needed to touch your round heavy breasts. Squeeze them to see if they were as soft as they looked. But he didn’t know just how far he was allowed to go. Thanks to the serum he could smell your arousal, he would die if you didn’t let him dip his fingers or his cock in your heat.

“What do you want baby?” Steve murmured in your hair and placed a soft kiss there. He drew small circles on your hips urging you to speak.

“I want – I want to suck his cock” You shivered feeling Steve’s length pressing against your ass through his sweats. You were the only one naked and you should feel completely vulnerable. But you trusted Steve with your life and you had come to trust Bucky as well. You didn’t feel ashamed, no you were proud. That you could get these amazing men to bend to your orders.

“Then do it sweetheart.” Steve pushed you down and you hissed as your knees touched the cold hard floor. You trembling hands worked to undo Bucky’s pants and pull his cock out of his boxers. You had only ever seen Steve’s cock, but you decided then and there that Bucky’s was your second most favorite. You admired it for a minute, licking a stripe up his slit before taking him in your mouth.

You felt Steve kneel behind you, with his knees on either side of you, pulling your hair over your shoulders he caressed your back “My girl does whatever I tell her” Steve said petting the back of your head “isn’t that right princess?”

You reluctantly pulled Bucky out of your mouth, because you know what happens if you don’t answer. “Yes daddy” You rasped gulping for some air as a strong of your spit connected you to Bucky’s cock. You opened wide to take him back in your mouth. But he was much girthier than Steve, it was a struggle to fit him. You whimpered around his cock as you tried to swallow as much of him as you could.

“She just needs a little guidance sometimes.” Steve hushed you pulling your hair into a pony tail and pushing on the back of your head.

Even if your lips were wrapped around his cock and you were gagging around him. Bucky felt as if he was an outsider looking into an intimate moment with you and Steve. He didn’t want that. Even if he could never have you, he wanted you to remember him. He wanted to make some sort of impact on you. He took a hold of your face lifting his hips up to thrust into it. “You call him daddy. What will you call me doll?” He asked slowly fucking into your face as you looked up at him with your big doe eyes, tearing falling down your cheeks.

“Hm. How about sir?” Steve suggested still pushing on your head. He wouldn’t take too kindly to Bucky being the only one fucking you.

Bucky pulled you off his cock as you coughed and stuttered gasping for breathe. “Yes” you heaved “Sir” you gave him a dazed smile dropping your jaw and silently begging him to continue his assault on your mouth. He groaned shoving his cock in your mouth.

“Breathe through your nose sweetheart.” Steve cooed. Always so worried about you. You took as much of Bucky as you could, breathing through your nose as Steve suggested. Closing your eyes shut to stop the tears. You wanted to do your happy dance as you felt your nose touch the little curls at the base of Bucky’s cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You had never been able to deep throat Steve. Even though Bucky was a bit smaller than Steve you couldn’t help but feel so accomplished.

You pulled up for air and looked over your shoulder to Steve. Wiping your cheeks and mouth “Daddy” You said proudly.

“Yes princess” He kissed your wet cheek “I’m so proud of you baby. You’re doing so good” You whimpered, his praise going straight to your core “You’re such a good girl. You deserve a reward” And you hummed looking back to Bucky’s hard cock, not wanting to keep him waiting to long you swallowed him whole again.

Steve pulled your hips and arched your ass up. You struggled to balance your weight on your hands and knees for a moment before finding a good position. You moaned around Bucky’s length as you felt Steve’s hot tongue invading your folds. “Shit” Bucky groaned pushing your head down holding it at his base “Do that again doll” He groaned as you moaned again. Extra loudly this time.

You felt ropes of his cum in your mouth as he held onto your head for dear life. You swallowed around him and felt him soften in your mouth.

You yelped when Steve’s finger prodded at your pluckered hole. “Keep Bucky’s cock warm while I get you ready. Will you do that for me princess?” Steve asked pushing two fingers into your pussy and fucking your ass and your heat at with his fingers at the same time.

You only hummed laying your head on Bucky’s thigh and suckling on his cock. It was all too much and too little at the same time. You needed his or Bucky’s cock inside you. You perked up when you heard Steve undress behind you. You cried out around Bucky’s cock as Steve sheathed himself in you in one single stroke. He squeezed your hips, rolling his against them. He thrusted into you jerking you forward again and again. You moaned as you felt the sting and the smack of his slap on your ass. “You having fun?” He asked thrusting deep inside you, his tip brushing that spot that drives you crazy “This what you wanted?” He snapped his hips harshly again and again. All you could do was take it and occasionally swallow your spit around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky was too entranced by the sight to do anything. He could feel his cock hardening again. It was strangely voyeuristic and arousing to see Steve rutting into you. His face contorted in pleasure, his torso and neck flushed red. He was happy for you seeing that the serum had enhanced everything. “That’s enough” He took you off his cock and consoled you as you whine at the loss. “I’m gonna fuck her.” Bucky declared. He wasn’t gonna be shy or ask for permission anymore. You both had roped him into whatever the hell this is.

“She’s all yours” You whimpered again as Steve pulled out of you. Leaving you all empty. “Do your knees hurt baby?” Steve cooed and you nodded. You had forgotten about how the cold floor was pinching you. Steve never let you spend any time on your knees cause you were a princess and he didn’t want you being in pain. Well the bad kind of pain. He had no qualms about spending hours on his knees worshiping you.

Steve picked you up in his arms, you were basically putty, unable to move or to speak. He gently laid you on the soft mattress, your head hitting the pillow. He sat down next to you running his hands through your hair wordlessly checking in on you.

“I’m sorry doll” Bucky murmured kissing your bruised knees. He shrugged of his clothes and settled himself between your legs.

“It’s ok sir” You hummed kissing Steve’s hand.

“I don’t think I like you calling me that” he lifted your hips up to elevate them up a bit “It’s too formal” he teased your entrance with his tip before sinking into you. You threw your head back, moaning at the delicious burn as he snapped his hips fucking you with vigor. He leaned down hovering above you and captured your lips with his moaning at your sweet taste mixed with his own musky scent. He stood back again so he could look at your bouncing breasts as he fucked into you.

You moaned as Steve latched his lips onto your nipple, pinching and pulling on the other one between his fingers. “Oh god. You’re so tight. I’m not gonna last” Bucky grunted his thrusts losing their rhythm and becoming erratic. Steve snaked a hand down rolling your clit before stroking it “You gonna cum around Bucky’s cock baby?” Steve teased drawing patterns on your clit and going back to suck on your hard bud.

You could only let out a whined barely there ‘Yes'. You felt as if you were seeing stars as you came hard around Bucky’s cock and gushing over Steve’s fingers. You blacked out as you felt Bucky empty his warm cum inside you. He collapsed on top you before moving to the side. His chest rising and falling out of the corner of your eye.

You looked towards Steve as you heard him quietly groan. He was pumping his angry red cock with his fist, his other hand fondling your breast. “Daddy” You mused “I want to –“

“Shh” He groaned cutting you off “Your throat must be sore baby. It’s ok-ay” He laid his hand flat on the bed to balance himself cumming all over your stomach. He laid down next you and pulled you into him.

You felt Bucky stirring beside You and getting up. You pulled at his bicep to stop him. Pleading him to cuddle with you. “Just a minute doll” He cooed kissing your forehead and disappearing into the bathroom. Returning with a warm and wet cloth he cleaned up your sore pussy and wiped your torso. He tossed the cloth aside and draped an arm across you and cuddled with you just as you demanded.

Cocooned between them both you feel it’s the warmest and the safest place for you.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist lemme know or click the link in the bio.

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account. Reblogs are most welcome though.

#steve rogers x soft!reader #steve rogers x plus sized reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fic #reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x you

[elriel-oblivion]

So I started this in the last week of 2020, and I'm ready to post it 😊 I've still got a couple other wips I'd started before this one but I haven't been bothered to finish those lol so I'm putting this one out first. Anyway, this'll be 6 parts long; I'll prob put up the next part in three or four days.

I'll put word counts so you can gauge how long each part is and if you wanna read it 😅 Also lemme know if you'd like to be tagged

Word count: 2.2K

AO3

Ashes from the Deep

Part I

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The shadows were colder than usual tonight. On better days, their chill wrapped Azriel's bones in an icy embrace, a comforting freeze numbing any semblance of feeling in his wasted heart.

But this miserable night, they were searing cold, the kind of cold piercing the highest of mountain peaks; the kind of cold that penetrated the brain itself. He shivered as he travelled through those shadows, dark mists and wisps coiling like vines about his head.

Maybe he was deliberately searching for the coldest areas. Maybe he wanted a complete absence of feeling: physical, emotional, spiritual. It would certainly be easier to feel nothing than trying to quell the frigid rage inside. How could an avalanche be stopped once it started?

Further and further he moved through his shadows, dawn chasing him from a few hours away. Mountains and villages surged past through those charcoal mists, making way to depthless forests and ravines. He clenched his jaw tight against the cold, memory guiding him home.

But the fresh blood he'd seen earlier, and the mutilated remains of that little girl, one wing torn off and lying bent at the edge of the dirt path ... Her unseeing eyes were glazed, that shine as bright and true on his mind as the glint of moonlight on the blade of Death. And her scream. Cauldron, it curdled his own blood.

He'd been but a minute late. A matter of seconds were all that stood between him and the sadistic bastard who'd brutalised that child. Barely a heartbeat in his lifetime.

He blinked once to rid himself of her stare. Twice.

The image remained, muddying with his path home. His hands clenched and unclenched, nails biting into his skin, but the girl's hazel eyes and her ashen skin and the fingers outstretched for that severed wing remained an imprint on his vision.

Why was this affecting him so much? It wasn't the first time he'd seen horrors like this. But if Azriel wanted to be honest with himself, some days were harder than others simply because they were. Some days, the despair rattled his core and tossed him far out - because he was a person and emotions, feelings, these things were too abstract to be boxed in.

Everything had a limit. Had Azriel ever truly reached his?

Sometimes Azriel himself didn't understand how he kept it all in. How he didn't react or display any sign of having seen or heard the things he did. Sometimes he was repulsed by himself because of it. At least Cassian and his rare vomiting showed some of the humanity inside.

Azriel gave away nothing. Was there even humanity in himself? Everyone but his family looked at him like he was an unhinged monster imprisoned by his Illyrian skin. Like he was moments from escape and they would be his first victims.

Or - not just his family. Her. Elain. Did he consider he family? Perhaps it was too early, or even too inappropriate to do so.

Either way, how could he stain the sudden image of her with himself, with the horrors he'd just seen, had always had the displeasure of seeing? She was lovely and warm and beautiful and he was dark and cold and hideous.

Elain. Something inexplicable stirred in him at the thought of her.

He tried to calm it, this heat, this single star in his midnight sky. But it remained. And it grew.

And he was disgusted. Ashamed. He was not worthy of her.

And it ached. Another unrequited love.

That word snapped something in him. Mocked him.

Love.

A choking sound ripped from his throat and he welcomed it, let it mount into a scream, let it tear through his body and soul. Like that monster was finally breaking free. It was invigorating yet scorching. It burned him from the inside out but the cold of those shadows permeated his mind so heavily, he forgot the essence of corporeality and only his soul seemed to drift.

His ragged breathing sounded, throat parched. Where was he? Through the shadows, all around him, there seemed only darkness. Was he flying? No, the shadows sang their usual baritone thrum as opposed to the high harmony of the wind.

Above, no stars glistened. His eyes strained but nothing peeked through. It wasn't often that his shadows became this thick; usually thin and wispy, they now shrouded his being, coalescing over, in him. He became the cold, a shadow, darkness itself, floating through the ether, higher and higher like ashes on the wind.

But even ashes settled down at some point.

Unless his soul truly were ascending, unless this truly were death. It almost seemed too easy. All the battles, those two great wars, the poison that shot through his veins and stole his breath as per Hybern's whim. Poison that sometimes woke him up in cold sweats, a phantom memory of its iciness picking through his body as though he were being cut up by the sharpest blade ...

Sometimes it even felt like his own blade.

No, this couldn't be death. A mere scream, the image of lives lost, a bloody fight - he hated to admit that these were commonplace among his memories, his life. But in doing so, he knew death was too easy an aftermath for what had happened tonight.

Death, an ascent. But he was sure when his time came, his stained soul would descend like the demon he was.

So he grounded, drifting down weightlessly until the solidity of rock steadied him. He would not go to that darkest of places yet. But he was still exhausted. So damn tired of everything. He feared that if he dropped into a slumber right now, he'd not get up for a lifetime. As it was, his legs almost gave out, but he forced some remaining strength back into them. All he had to do was get home now.

He stepped out of his shadows; Devlon's camp was quiet around him. A fire to his far right sputtered in the harsh winds and Azriel swept himself back into his shadows.

This time he travelled faster, composing himself, locking his muscles and bones up, clenching his jaw. He let that familiar cool comfort drain his rage, cleaning it through his veins before it settled in the frozen lake of his heart where the rest of his darkness lay, inescapable through the impenetrable foot of icy wrath and sorrow. He savoured his shadows, a confidant in their own right, thanked them for their understanding and the escape he found within them.

But they were growing warmer now. Azriel squinted through them as they shifted him across land and water - the scape of Velaris and its brilliant lights greeted him. Closer to home now, he could breathe with a looser chest but this was still unusual; his shadows shouldn't be warmer, they should be cool and refreshing, like the autumn night breeze beyond.

His wings rustled, body reacting to his shadows' autonomy before his thawing mind caught up. 'Where are you taking me?' he murmured.

Mist swirled about him and the shadows deposited him at the far edge of the dimly lit back garden at his High Lord and Lady's riverfront estate. Why would they bring him here? Rhysand and Feyre were at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were together in Illyria and Mor was at the Winter Court. As far as he knew, Amren was at her own apartment so the only person left was -

'Azriel!' came Elain's voice. It was distant in a way it shouldn't be.

Azriel leaned against a tree, pretending to fiddle with the Siphon atop his left hand. Breathing was difficult but he swallowed and exhaled in a shudder.

He needed to fully compose himself before anyone saw him like this. If only his damn shadows hadn't taken control for those last few moments, he'd be in his own home and lying in that swirling darkness in peace. Though, he supposed, it was his own fatigue that had yielded that control.

'Azriel!' Elain cried, stopping in front of him. Her face was caught between a frown and a wince and her arm was raised slightly. 'You don't look okay.'

As always, he was momentarily stunned by how unafraid this small female was of him. Here he was in his full armour, every bit the monstrous warrior that sent his people scurrying into their homes and locking their doors, and yet Elain stood strong before him. Like she saw not a killing machine but a person.

She never even commented on how his shadows made to disappear around her. Perhaps she hadn't noticed.

He swallowed before he let out what he thought was a light laugh. 'I'm fine, don't worry.' But he could hear the hoarseness of his voice, now facing the consequences of that scathing scream. And his limbs felt even heavier than before, like someone had injected liquid lead into them.

'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she whispered, lowering both her gaze and arm.

He paused, trying to catch her gaze. The constant light in her eyes whenever she looked at him was a balm to his soul. He could use some of that right now.

He reached out an arm, so impossibly leaden right now - if he could just get to sit down -

'Can I wash your hair, please?'

He started. 'You want to wash my hair?'

Elain's eyes flicked back up to skirt over his, up to his hair, where they stayed pinned. 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'

Shit. He hadn't even thought of his appearance after that bloody fight earlier. How that had slipped his mind? He ran a hand through his hair, and surely enough, crumbs of dirt rained down.

Although, he really hadn't expected to turn up here of all places. In the privacy of his own home, he wouldn't have cared if he were missing a whole damn limb, if only it meant he could sleep like the dead.

Not to mention that sleeping with a little mud was the least an Illyrian warrior's problems. But Elain's care was something of a punch to his gut. When was the last time someone had truly tended to him for reasons that weren't battle or holiday related?

'You've managed to get some on your face, too,' she said, brow furrowed as she stared at his cheek.

Her eyes were so deep and focused, he wished they would just meet his once. But of course, that level of scrutiny he'd come to learn from Elain meant shyness. Just shyness. She was so endearing, he could've laughed with such fondness if he weren't so damn tired. He wished this whole damn night would be over already.

His leg faltered slightly and he stumbled forward.

'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'

He raised his brows at her, but she simply took his arm and began leading him towards the house. She looked so small before him but didn't slow despite dragging his bulk behind her.

Halfway across the garden, he pulled her to him with his free arm, his shadows saving the both of them the energy of walking through that mansion of a home.

'My bathroom,' she murmured. Elain didn't balk through the five seconds of that darkness, didn't even look surprised. She showed no sign of hearing the spike in his pulse either. Thank the Mother.

He set them in her bathroom, and she didn't look at him once as she flitted around the chamber, pulling a chair from her bedroom to the sink and grabbing a towel, soap and a jug from the cupboard. Standing there, his breathing began to smooth out.

The window was open, a chill breeze sweeping in. The faelights were dim and their placid light sent a dusky illumination over Elain's features. Some bottles of oils and herbs sat on the edge of the bathtub. Azriel had heard of people using oils for bathing, but herbs? Perhaps they were like flower petals, used for their scent.

Towel in hand, Elain waited at the sink, placing the soap and jug down. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this.'

Azriel nodded, tapping his Siphon. Within seconds, that second skin of cold scales and gleaming wrath was safely stored away. Just his plain black trousers and tunic were left.

Elain's eyes caught every moment of the transformation. 'It's beautiful, all of it.'

He didn't even know if she was speaking of his armour or the basic clothes underneath or what, but his face warmed slightly, wings rustling.

'Please sit,' she said, gesturing to the chair. As he did, she wrapped the towel around his shoulders, fingers hovering above his forehead for a few seconds.

Those seconds felt perennial. He almost shuddered as her fingers made contact with his skin. Her hands were so gentle as they pushed his head back, and he shifted in the seat. He lowered his wings, and she stepped into the space he provided. She was still as he got comfortable, only turning the tap once he was settled. There was a slight crease between her brows, and he clenched his fists to keep from smoothing it out.

Sounding so much like his own mother that his throat tightened, she whispered, 'You can close your eyes.'

So he did.

__

Feedback is welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

#elain archeron #azriel #elriel #acotar #elain x azriel

[dreaminpetals]

poly michimary and their gf getting matching costumes? just all three of them matching and being a power couple

👑 poly michimary with matching costumes . . .

art credit

♡ the three of you are gifted with matching costumes for valentine's day and everyone either wants to be you or be with you.

♡ it's a cupid theme! you don a bow & arrow with ethereal angel wings while mary and michiko are the star crossed lovers you brought together. they resemble ancient goddesses, flowing dresses and flowers adorned throughout their outfits. there's no way to describe the flash of pink, white, and red that blesses your eyes when they land on the two hunters.

♡ your two girlfriends dote on your wings nonstop. michiko will brush them tenderly while mary ruffles them up and presses teasing kisses to the feathers. when you practice how to fly, they're always there to catch you in their arms.

♡ when you all walk into a room together, everyone's breaths are collectively taken away. every new skin gets eyed by most residents of the manor, but the three of you are so otherworldly that everyone stops what they're doing just to stare.

♡ if you're uncomfortable being the centre of attention, mary and michiko are more than willing to shield you from the prying eyes of the manor and get gawked at instead.

♡ your costumes come with brand new emotes so your girlfriends are eager to carry and twirl you through the air. since you're together, there's a unique dance emote where you can ballroom dance with either mary or michiko.

♡ mary prefers to dip you with vigor while michiko wants to hold you close, reveling in the height difference between you.

♡ when mary dances with michiko they're sure to never leave you out, flashing winks or inviting smiles your way. stay on your toes, one of them might dip the other and initiate a dance with you next. the hunters love to watch your graceful moves.

♡ michiko is bashful when she compliments your new skin, murmuring how you look stunning as she pinches your cheeks. she says you and mary are both gorgeous and she feels blessed to have you two. let her caress your wings and hair!!

♡ when you compliment michiko she melts. if it wasn't for her heavy makeup, her face would be beet red. she thanks you but her voice is mostly stuck in her throat from just how flustered you make her. the more you insist on her being one of the most beautiful women on the planet, the more her legs feel like jelly.

♡ mary on the other hand? she's curling her fingers under your chin so you make eye contact as she giggles at your dropped jaw, commenting on how she's glad that you're all hers. she loves to surprise you and michiko by covering your eyes from behind and planting kisses on the side of your head.

♡ mary eats up your compliments and always returns them, smooth words a thinly veiled attempt to one-up you. she views you and michiko as the most gorgeous and powerful women in her life and isn't shy about nailing it in. if you're a blusher, she'll deduce what words draw out the deepest shades from you and use them to her advantage.

♡ you've definitely asked joseph to take pictures of you together. survivors and hunters alike gather to see the photoshoot in action in hopes they'll catch a glimpse of the three girlbosses together.

♡ if the manor holds a dance it's over for everyone. you'll add some extra accessories and makeup to your skins and blow the entire ball up with how fire you look. you'll have a threeway tie for any beauty pageants the manor holds.

♡ at the end of the day when the skins come off and you're getting ready for bed in your nightgowns, both of your girlfriends remind you that you're still pretty as a picture, glamorous skin or not. you make them so soft!!!

#michimary #geisha idv #bloody queen idv #identity v imagines #idv x reader

[toriwakes]

Opposite [Harry Potter x Reader]

summary: harry brings out a different side of you.

content warnings: fluff:)

a/n: hey!!! i was scrolling through gifs and thought this one up. hope u like! as always let me know if you have any requests!

“please go, i’ll die without you there!” hermione was currently trying to convince you to go to the yule ball. sure you’d like to, but dances were not your thing. they were packed, which made it hot. the long gowns inevitably stepped all over, standing around hurt your feet and the music was never good. but there was one thing that could convince you to go. “i’ll tell you what, if you can find me a date i’ll go.” hermione gasped. “(y/n), i don’t know if i can do that..” you hated it when she doubted herself. with a sly smirk you got up from the library table and gave her a friendly kiss in the cheek. “then i don’t know if i can go.” woth that you walked off.

on the way to the east towers, you spotted a familiar messy-headed boy. “potter!” you shouted. his head perked up and he smiled when he found you. “hi!” he chirped. normally you were very outgoing. you were loud and keen on making new friends. some people even found it annoying. harry never saw that side of you. to him you were the opposite. not boring, just shy. “what class do you have?” he asked. “charms. you?” you both laid your backs against stone wall, ignoring the giggling of the portrait next to you. “divination.” he made a sour face when he said it. “we still have some time before class. wanna go up to the astronomy tower?” you asked. harry furrowed his brows. “(y/n) (y/l/n), breaking the rules?” you laughed. “do you wanna go or not?” “i’m going, i’m going!”

“the view is so beautiful up here.” you commented. and you were right; the sun glimmered onto the black lake. it looked less ominous today and more aesthetic. every now and then you’d see a tentacle of the giant squid rise to the surface- you liked to think it was waving at you. harry was gazing at your side profile. “are you going to the ball?” you asked. harry broke his gaze from you, responding. “i think so. i kinda have to.” you rested your cheek on your fist. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go either. blimey- look at the time! we’ll be late if we don’t go now!” you scurried off but harry stayed behind. you see, he just realized something. something big, something that changed everything.

harry potter fancied you.

meanwhile, hermione was making it a priority to find someone to go to the hall with you. she thought of asking some randoms, but she realized that even if they would go with you, you wouldn’t take them as your date. she tried andre, a ravenclaw boy in your year. “oh, i appreciate it but i already have a date.” hermione understood but was still upset. she decided to take she mind off things by meeting up with harry. “hello.” he said. his voice was shaky, like he was nervous. “hello harry- are you alright?” she noticed the change in his behavior immediately. “no- i mean yes- well actually-“ “spit it out harry!” she said. harry sort of cringed and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. he checked his surroundings before grabbing hermione by the forearm and leading her to a nearby empty classroom. hermione didn’t say anything until he was done making sure the room was empty. “what is it harry?” she finally spoke. “look- i think i might have a crush on (y/n), and i don’t know what to do because (y/n) is one of our best friends and-“ harry continued to ramble but at that point hermione had tuned him out. not only did she just find out some ground-breaking news, she had someone that could go to the yule ball with you.

“i’m not going to ask if (y/n)’s going to say no, hermione!” harry was being shoved towards the owlery right now. you let hermione know that morning that you’d be mailing some letters, so now was a better time as ever have harry shoot his shot. “it’s worth a try harry! the odds she’ll say yes are higher than she’ll say no, so just go and stop being a wuss.” she demanded with a final shove. harry brushed himself on and started going up the steps, eyeing hermione. “i’m not a wuss..” and he was going to prove it. he was going up there, he was gonna see you, ask you out and you were gonna say yes. as he kept reassuring himself and gaining confidence, he failed to notice he was already at the top of the stairway- and you’d just passed him. “(y/n)!” he said a bit too loud. you spun around, almost slipping on the snow that covered the steps. “hi harry!” he opened his mouth and was obviously speaking, but you couldn’t make out a thing he said. “uhm..could you say that again? i couldn’t understand you.” he gulped. “i was wondering..if you’d like to go to the yule ball. with me.” your eyes slightly widened and an inaudible gasp left your lips. harry was on edge until he smile on your face. “yeah. i’d really like that.” you responded. “okay. yeah, great.” you nodded and smiled before turning around and continuing your way down the steps; and there hermione stood.

“i can’t believe you got harry to ask me!” you giggled with her, heading back to the great hall. “does this mean you’ll go?” hermione was intelligent. now was not a moment of that. “of course i’m gonna go, are you mad?” the laughter continued as you both sat down beside ron. “what’s got you two so happy?” you glanced at hermione who was trying to hold back laughter. he stared at both of you confused. “what?”

the night of the dance came quickly. you were running around, fixing any minor imperfection. finally, you were ready. “are you all set?” with one last ruffle through your hair, you exhaled. “yeah.” hermione stepped in, closing the door behind her. when her eyes found you, her jaw dropped. “merlin’s beard! you’re stunning!” you blushed furiously and wondered if harry would think the same. “harry is extremely lucky.” you playfully hit her, still red in the cheeks. “you never told me who you’re going with?” you realized. hermione smirked and did a twirl. “you’ll see!” then was when students started to pass; it was time to go. with a deep breath you both linked arms and made your way to the hall.

everyones eyes were on you two. jaws dropping, gasps arising. you found harry in that crowd. “i’ll see you inside.” hermione whispered in your ear as she broke away to greet krum. “good evening.” you said. “evening. you look amazing.” harry wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t find the words. “you look quite dapper yourself. ready?” you asked, referring to the dance. he nodded and linked arms with you.

the night was ethereal. you danced, drank, and laughed, all with harry by your side. the dance was coming to a close and you and harry were some of the only people left. “i think we should go, but i really don’t wanna leave.” he admitted. you couldn’t help but blush at how he enjoyed your company. “i think i can do something about that.” you smirked and grabbed harry by the arm, leading him out of the hall and away from everyone. harry was finally seeing the true you; confident and extroverted. as you lead him up along corridors (he wasn’t really paying attention) he eyed the way your hair blew in the wind and the sparkle in your eye at the thrill of it. “the view is extravagant at night.” you commented. “it’s truly is.” but harry wasn’t looking at the view- he was looking at you. taking you all in and finally accepting his feelings for you. in fact, he was going to embrace them. “are you even looking?” the question made him snap out of it. “honestly? no. i’ve got a much better view right here.” you laughed at his playful flirting and continued to gaze. “my one goal is that before my years here are over i’ll get to ride on a broom over the castle and just...take it all in. i feel like we take it for granted, you know? we go to school at one of the most beautiful places on earth.” harry now leaned on the railing with you. the sky was pitch black but luckily the moon made the lake visible. “it is. i’d be happy to take you for a spin one day.” you turned your head to him, his captivating green eyes boring into yours. “i have something to tell you.”

there was a tone of concern in your voice, which made harry furrow his brows. “what is it?” you chewed the inside of your cheek- were you seriously going to do this right now? then, you remembered. you’re not the timid, closed off type of person harry thinks you are. you’re the opposite. “i have a crush on you, harry. i’ve had one for a while now and i guess i understand if you don’t feel the same because we’re such good friends and i see how that can be weird-“ “(y/n)!” you shut your lips quickly. harry chuckled, shaking his head. “i like you too. a lot, actually.” relief. being outgoing has always had benefits, but this one takes the cake. “oh.” the following moments were silent. eventually you felt comfortable enough to lay your head on his shoulder, to which he responded by laying his cheek on your head. “you know, you’re like- the opposite of who i thought you were. in a good way, of course.”

#harry potter angst #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry fanfic #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry james potter #harry potter #harry potter smut #draco malfoy smut

[charmingyong]

Make a Wish, Girl

Genre: genie!Taeyong x reader, angst, fluff

Warnings: swear words, suggestive near the end

Plot: After your life had fallen apart, you were blessed by an unexpected surprise. A genie who granted you three wishes.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Inspired by genie Taeyong in Make a Wish. Wrote this in one go, edited and posted without a second thought. I can’t let myself spend hours staring at this when I have bigger works that need my attention.

- ❀ -

You were sitting on the sofa of your apartment, hands linked with one another and feet tapping on the floor, eyes fixed on a box sitting on the coffee table in front of you. A box perfectly wrapped with golden gift wrap and ribbon tied in a beautiful bow.

It had been mysteriously there when you first walked out of your bedroom, never once touching it. You had weighed your options, whether to open it right then and there or call the police for investigation. The smarter move would have been the latter. But with the recent heartbreaking events in your life, it made sense to you to just take the risk and open it.

With a heavy heart full of curiosity, you got onto your knees, coming down to eye level with the box and tugged the ribbon gently. You could tell that the money put into the wrapping was no joke. When the bow had become undone, you carefully ripped the gift wrap. You noticed that the box came with a lid and so you lifted it, revealing white with diamond sparkle glitter tissue papers. One by one, you picked them out until you came across a golden magic lamp. A lamp that resembled to the genie lamp from Aladdin.

It was bizarre why such an item came in a gift box and was inside your home out of the blue.

You picked the lamp up, inspecting the classic vintage design of the magical oil lamp, wondering if it really was a genie lamp. There was only one way to know.

Clearing the coffee table with your arm, you let the remnants of the gift-wrapping fall to the ground and gently put down the lamp. With a deep breath in, you rubbed the lamp, your heartbeat picking up.

Poof!

Fog appeared in front of you, a silhouette in the midst of it. After the fog began to disappear, your jaw dropped to the ground. Before your eyes was the most beautiful, ethereal being that you had ever laid your eyes on.

He chuckled at your expression. "Girl, you might want to close your mouth before a fly goes in."

Dumbfounded, you did as he said. "Who are you?"

He smirked. "Who else do you think? I'm the one and only magnificent genie, Taeyong."

Taeyong... Nice name, you thought.

"Why are you here?" you asked him. You were surprised to have a genie delivered into your place without prior notice. And who on earth even broke in without you realizing?

"According to my sources, you need some healing, don't you?"

How the fuck did he know?

He laughed at your bewildered face. "It's a secret. But I can help you."

"How?"

He held up three fingers. "Make three wishes that you want to come true. I can make absolutely anything happen. You only have today before you never see me again."

Your breath hitched. Three wishes. Only today.

"Can you really make anything happen?" Hope built up in you as you knew right away two wishes to ask Taeyong.

He smiled a sincere one, sending butterflies to your stomach.

"Anything. Your wish is my command."

You wanted to get revenge on your boyfriend of two years, or should you say ex. He recently came clean to you, telling you that he fell in love with another girl. As much as you appreciated the truth, it wounded your heart that he hid it for three months.

You figured something was up but only thought it was his stressful work. His texts had become vague and straight to the point, no time for love exchanges. He refused to see you, always complaining that he had family gatherings, or his work was holding him back from having free time to spend with you. It pained you that you loved him without an ounce of doubt, and this was what he did to your trust. By cheating on you.

The breakup had taken a toll on your life. You weren't as bright and productive at work and so your boss fired you when you failed to meet the month-end deadlines. You felt pathetic. First your boyfriend broke up with you, and then your boss kicked you out of work.

But with a genie named Taeyong in front of you, your mind was set to make the stabbing pain stop in your heart and put your life back together.

“My first wish is to get revenge on my ex,” you said. You didn’t know how to though, and never thought about it before Taeyong showed up.

“Easy. I expected that.” He grabbed your hand and walked out of your place.

You walked down the street, your hand still in his. His bony hands felt surprisingly warm, making a faint blush rise up to your cheeks. He guided you to the nearest coffee shop, holding the door open for you to go in first.

Upon entering, your eyes immediately found your ex sitting at a table across a girl you assumed was his ‘new love,’ chatting happily without a care of what was happening outside of their bubble. It stung your heart bad to see him so happy with another girl like the way he first was with you.

You pulled yourself out of the miserable thoughts when Taeyong confidently walked through the shop, pulling you along. All the girls and boys in the vicinity stopped what they were doing and gawked at the drop-dead gorgeous being that they were blessed to see.

He stopped right beside the couple, eyeing your ex with a stoic expression. You wished you could figure out what was on Taeyong’s mind. Next, he shifted his gaze to the new girlfriend, giving her a dazzling smile. He let go of your hand and bent down to her eye level, crossing his arms on the table.

“Hey gorgeous,” Taeyong greeting softly at her.

Your ex finally noticed you and gave you a questioning look, but you didn’t respond. You had no idea what Taeyong was trying to accomplish from this. Heck, you didn’t even know how Taeyong knew where your ex was.

“H-Hi,” she stuttered, stunned by the existence of such a beautiful creature before her. And called her gorgeous. At this point everyone in the shop had their eyes on Taeyong, some swooning and some curious.

“Don’t you think you’re a lot more worth than how this one treated you?” he asked, nodding his head in your ex’s direction.

“W-What do you m-mean?”

“If I use the married life analogy... then like a mistress? It’s a shame, I must say,” he shook his head with feigned disappointment.

Something geared inside her. Anger. At your ex. You didn’t know if she felt this on her own or Taeyong had hypnotized her. And what she did next made you feel good.

She grabbed her iced drink, removed the lid, and splashed it on your ex, shocking him for her to have done such a humiliating action in public. You heard a collection of oh and wows from the audience, displeasure masking their faces at your ex.

“Don’t you dare call me again!” she screamed and stormed out.

“What the hell, dude!” Your ex faced Taeyong with fume coming out of his ears.

“He’s right!” Someone from the crowd spoke up. “How dare you cheat on your wife?”

Taeyong clarified. “Not wife, but girlfriend. And then he left Y/N crying alone.”

Woah, how did Taeyong know your name? You didn’t recall telling him. Oh right, he had his sources. But who the fuck were these sources?

“What the- You’re such an asshole!” Everyone in the shop began yelling profanities at your ex, cuing you and Taeyong to leave without anyone realizing.

He really was using magic.

After walking around the block out of the coffee shop’s view, he asked, “How do you feel?”

You had to admit. As much as your heart was still hurting, the commotion earlier made you feel a lot better. “Pretty good. He’s probably going to be scarred now.”

“He should be. This should teach him a lesson. Have him think a thousand times before looking at another girl,” he smirked.

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname.

“What’s your second wish?”

You had your second one ready. “My second wish is to get a job. I got fired from a desk job and I never really found any satisfaction from it either. It’d be fun to work somewhere... more creative.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Anywhere in particular?”

You hummed, thinking of an idea. “Maybe floral designing? I really love flowers.”

He smiled warmly at you. “Let’s go then.”

Taeyong had found you the job at the closest flower shop from your apartment. You were mind-blown at how he was able to fulfill your two wishes so fast, leaving you to think of what your last should be. You suggested heading back to your place while thinking of the third wish.

And then you thought of the perfect one. The one your heart needed the most at that moment.

“Taeyong, you said you can make any wish of mine come true, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Anything.”

“Then my third wish is to heal. Please help me stop feeling the pain in my heart. Everything that happened today is something I wouldn’t have ever done myself and I feel better about those things. But the pain is still there in my heart. Maybe I’m scared to fall in love. Before you leave, can you help me stop... hurting?”

It made him sad whenever he witnessed good people suffering, and he was willing to do anything to make them feel better. Make you feel better. “I’ll do everything in my power to heal you. Is there a specific way you have in mind, sweetheart?”

You did. The butterfly feelings still lingered inside you and you’d by lying if his beautiful features equipped with a warm personality didn’t burn something inside you. “My bedroom?” you asked quietly, worried what his reaction was going to be.

The biggest smile broke onto his face. “Like I said, your wish is my command.”

- ❀ -

“Okay, who’s next for Taeyong hyung?” Doyoung shouted from his workspace at his team.

Jaehyun raised his arm, looking at his monitor of another girl’s biodata. “Someone named Joy.”

#nct #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong oneshot #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #charm

[honeycobie]

Ephemeral

part of the round the world tbz collab held by @ukiyoexo​ and @juyeonzz​

[teaser]

» pairing: sangyeon x reader 

» genre: fluff/angst, time travel au, historical au

» word count: 16.2k 

» a/n: uh hello...i’m back momentarily to post this fic that i put my blood, sweat and tears into and then i’m gonna disappear again :D i wrote on a google docs first and i wrote 36 pages ;;; yeah, i went overboard. anyways, hope y’all enjoy this! pls don’t flop or else i’ll cry because i spent so much time perfecting it and i’m still doubting my writing skills. goodbye for now (don’t worry, the angst isn’t that sad)!

» disclaimer:  the characters may be based on real-life historical figures but they are not real and are portrayed as needed for plot purposes. although i have done some extra research on the joseon dynasty, i do not have much knowledge on this topic so please excuse any mistakes on the history/events. 

» now playing: i swear i’ll never leave again by keshi

» round the world masterlist please please please check out all the other fics! they are all *chef’s kith* 

You step out into the sunshine, smiling brightly as you inhale deeply. “Doesn’t the air smell different here, too?” you ask, your suitcase trailing behind you. 

Your friend gives you a weird look. “Yeah, pollution,” she remarks sarcastically, sliding on a pair of sunglasses.

Ignoring her, you tilt your head to admire the bustling city of Seoul and the cloudless, vast sky. The pleasant weather felt like the city was welcoming you warmly with open arms.

“I’m so excited to visit all the tourist spots in Korea!” you exclaim, already running through the mental checklist of things you wanted to do.

“I can’t believe you made me come with you,” she begins, glancing at you grumpily. “I’m sure you could’ve survived on your own.”

“I know you’re looking forward to it too and besides there might be some cute boys around here,” you laugh, nudging her playfully in the ribs as you squint, looking around for any building that might resemble the hotel you were supposed to be staying at.

Your friend can’t help but smile at how enthusiastic you are, her mood brightening after a long flight. “Which hotel did you book?” she asks, slowing down her pace to peer at your phone.

“Four Seasons Hotel,” you respond, showing her the map. “I don’t see it though? It should be this street.” you furrow your eyebrows, confused as you try to navigate through the busy crowd of Seoul.

Groaning, she snatches your phone out of your hands, giving you a pointed look. “You’ve never been good with directions.” she chides, examining the map carefully.

Pouting, you don’t reply, turning your gaze to the towering skyscrapers and buildings of the city, the sunlight glinting off of glass, rendering it so blinding that you had to avert your eyes. The streets and sidewalk were busy, bustling with people and cars with their own destination. You take in another deep breath before your face screws up, feeling a cough rise in your throat, hacking when exhaust from the nearest car hits you. 

She was right, it did smell like pollution but there was something about Seoul, the way the city was teeming with life, swarming with both people and vehicles, making it special, different from any other big city. Time seemed to fly fast here, a blink of an eye and hours had already passed but at the same time, it slowed down when you took your time to take in your surroundings, to take a deep breath to ground yourself.

You jolt back into attention when your friend calls your name. “We should’ve made a turn on a street before. I take back my previous statement. You wouldn’t be able to survive here without me.” she grumbled, exasperation written all over her face.

Grinning, you hook your arm through hers, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. “And this is why I love you.” you coo, batting your eyelashes at her.

Shrugging off your arm, she feigns disgust, speeding up her pace so she was well ahead of you. “You can pay me back by treating me to dinner,” she calls, smiling cheekily.

You dash after her, your suitcase bumping wildly on the concrete of the sidewalk.“Wait a minute-” you start to argue with her, trying to negotiate as you know how much she could eat. That girl could eat a whole buffet if she set her mind on it. She just waves you off dismissively, ignoring your pleas as she hums to herself as if you weren’t next to her. 

»»————-　　————-««

Letting out a sigh, you shrug off your bag, flopping on the couch in your hotel room after indulging in delicious Korean cuisine. Staring at the ceiling, you shift into a comfortable position, closing your eyes as you were starting to feel sluggish, your limbs heavy and you had to fight to keep your eyes open. 

The moment you gave into the insistent pull of sleep, you were promptly interrupted by a pillow pelting  your side with a soft thump. Stretching languorously, you sit up, blinking the drowsiness away.

Sitting on the bed across from you, your friend scowls at you. “Don’t we have somewhere to go this evening? I remember you blabbering in my ear the entire time at the restaurant.”

Eyes widening, you sit up, your sleepiness vanishing in a flash. “Right! We’re visiting Gyeongbokgung Palace! It was the main imperial palace of the Joseon Dynasty.”

“You read up on it, huh?” she teases, giving you a cocky smirk.

Gasping, you place a hand on your chest, offended. “I did not! I’m just smart!” you retort. Okay, maybe you did but for the sake of your pride and dignity, a white lie wouldn’t hurt, right? 

“Just admit it, nerd.” she scoffs, jabbing you in the side. She knew you too well, seeing through the lie that only served as a flimsy barrier from the truth. 

Swatting her hand away, you stick your tongue out. “On that topic, we’ll be following a tour guide so we’ll be in a group with other tourists.” you utter, reclining back, your arms behind your head.

“What the hell? Why can’t we just explore on our own? What’s the fun in following a tour guide when we can be adventurous and spontaneous? It’s a vacation for god’s sake.” she complains, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Being too adventurous and spontaneous can result in us getting lost. Besides, it’s not like we know our way around Seoul. We’re just tourists too.” you remind her, rolling on your stomach so you could look her in the eye.

"You just had to go in the evening. If we went in broad daylight, I bet we wouldn't get lost. Who would even go for the nighttime viewing?" she whines, burying her face in the duvet.

“It’s only for an hour or so. Just suck it up. Besides, the palace will look even more stunning at night.” you reassure, rolling your eyes at the dramatic display she was putting on.

“Fine. What time is the tour?” she queried, giving up.

“It’s at 8 pm but we can always arrive early,” you state, smiling triumphantly. “It’ll be a good opportunity to take some photos,” you add, knowing that she loves photography, 

She perks up the moment you mention photos but she swiftly erases her excitement, replacing it with a facade of indifference. “Whatever.” she huffs, turning her back on you as she scrolls through social media.

You scoff, shaking your head,  knowing that you had piqued her interest before standing up, shuffling to the bathroom to start getting ready.

»»————-　　————-««

Passing through the main gate encircling the perimeter of the palace, you slow your pace to admire the architecture. You reach out to cautiously brush your fingertips over the dark crimson doors, marvelling at how gigantic they are. 

You refrain from peeking through the arched entrance as you wanted to see the grandeur of the palace when you arrived at the foot of the steps. Brushing your hand against the rough granite of the foundation, you try to picture the king and royal officials passing through the gate.

For some reason, you were holding your breath as you passed through the archway. Your gaze drifting upwards, your jaw drops at the sight of the palace in front of you as you take in the sheer beauty of it. Although you had seen pictures of the palace online, it barely did it justice as it looked even more majestic in real life.

A wide, paved path leads up to the stairs towards the palace and you notice the elegantly sloped roofs and intricate details with lotus flowers and characters carved into the wood. The use of vibrant green and red draws your eyes and although you would expect the colours to clash, they complement each other, creating a strangely soothing effect.

The evening sky adds to the etherealness of it all, the full moon glowing, shining on the path as a crisp breeze lifts your hair, stirring it into motion. 

Your friend strolls beside you, equally in awe, her eyes sparkling with amazement as she examines the palace. "Where are we waiting for the tourist group?" she questions, both hands gripping tightly on the straps of her backpack.

You suppress a sigh at the scornful tone of her voice, bitterness dripping as she purposefully put emphasis on the two words, “tourist group”. 

“Just at the entrance of the palace,” you reply, leafing through the pamphlet that was handed out amongst the crowd that mingled around the gate. 

There was a map on the back of the brochure and your eyes sparkled as you examined it. It could give you the opportunity to slip away and admire the palace as long as you desired without fearing that you'd get lost.

You and your friend look around for the tour guide, scanning the crowd for any sight of someone who might resemble one. Spotting the tour guide carrying a sign with the name of the company, you nudge your friend before dragging her towards the group. 

Huffing, she hefts her camera, adjusting the strap. You smile giddily to yourself, skipping like a child and you banished all the negative thoughts, allowing yourself to lower your guard, to forget that you were a mere tourist travelling in a foreign city with unknown dangers. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Of course everything had to go completely wrong.

»»————-　　————-««

First, you had bumped into a fellow tourist, causing you to fall gracelessly, landing on your backside, the pamphlet fluttering into a puddle of murky water as you hastily apologized.

To your utter dismay, the ink started to fade, washed away from the water and rendered the map useless. You could hardly interpret it so you didn't bother to pick it up. You ignored your friend's snickering as you accepted her helping hand.

Well, time to say goodbye to your plans to explore on your own. 

As if pushing your luck, you were now lost. You fought down the rising panic and racked your brain, trying to come up with solutions. Even worse, your phone was dead. You swore fate hated you, always wanting to tamper with your plans.

You squeezed through the crowd, aiming for the gaps in between to slip through,  squeaking out an apology when you accidentally step on someone's foot. Squinting, you peer for any sight of your friend as you hold your bag nervously, hands squeezing the strap. 

You stop at the end of the hallway, eyes shifting from the different corridors that open up from the end of it. You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet as you contemplate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

Left or right?

As if answering your question, the corridor to your right glowed brighter underneath the moonlight and you gaped, rubbing at your eyes, convinced that you were seeing things. You blinked a couple of times but it only seemed to make the walls of the corridor brighten, washing the walls in shimmering tones of silver and pewter. Despite your instincts screaming at you to walk down the corridor, you were reluctant, feeling foolish to follow your gut instincts and making a decision based on it when you ought to have analyzed thoroughly. Shrugging, you started down the path, eyes drifting on the walls, reaching out to aimlessly drag your fingers against the wall, rough plaster and concrete scraping against skin as you marvel at how it practically shines underneath the moon. 

Too busy admiring the architecture, you don’t notice the steps a few steps away until your foot comes in contact with space where the floor should’ve been. Eyes widening, you find yourself tripping, letting out a gasp into the silence as you screw your eyes shut.

Red floods your vision as the pain comes. It was worse than any other injury, sharp aches throbbing in your skull as you hit your head against the concrete. You open your eyes, attempting to sit up but stop as your vision starts to swim, black dots invading your vision as your head sways, only intensifying the pain. You hiss, closing your eyes and slowly counting to ten, trying to tamp down the panic and bile that rose in your throat. 

It’s no use, the panic rising and swallowing you whole as you feel your consciousness fading. The last thing you remember is the blurry visage of the corridor brightening, causing you to squint to shield your eyes.

»»————-　　————-««

Regaining consciousness, you sit up quickly, regretting it as your vision swims, blurring everything momentarily. You close your eyes, grimacing when a dull ache throbs in the back of your head. 

Right...you had lost footing and missed several steps, slamming your head on the concrete. You sigh as the memory surfaces and you press your hand against your hand gently, screwing your face up when it feels tender and sore to the touch. 

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with an unfamiliar room. Your brow furrowing, you observe your surroundings with keen eyes.

The room was fashioned from dark oak, with sliding doors made from white paper, sheer enough to see shadows moving from outside, but still providing enough privacy. Candles flickered jovially on the low tables and judging from the absence of natural light, you guessed that it was currently nighttime. Looking down, your eyes travelled the length of the pallet you were sitting on, noting the intricate embroideries curving through it. You reached out and gingerly ran your fingers against it. Judging from the material and the delicate ornamentations, it was probably very expensive. 

“My lady…you’re awake!” 

A rejoiced voice grabs your attention and you turn slowly to meet the owner of it. A girl, around your age kneels at your bed and sets down the bucket of water, dousing a clean cloth in it. You blink in confusion, realizing that she was wearing a hanbok, the traditional clothing of historical Korea. You exhaled softly, tense shoulders relaxing as you inferred that you were in one of the residences near the palace, where you were able to rent a hanbok and experience how ancient Korea used to be. The girl gently wipes the wound on the back of your head before undoing the gauzes, replacing it with new ones. 

“My lady, you mustn’t be so reckless while riding a horse.” she scolds lightly, shaking her head. 

“E-excuse me?” 

You didn’t remember anything about a horse. Momentarily, you wondered why the girl was being so formal with you before your thoughts started to wander. Toning out the girl’s rambling, you stared emptily at the nearest candle, flickering and jumping like it had a life of its own. 

Catching a section of her sentence, you come back to your senses. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Arranged marriage with the eldest son of King Sejong?” she repeats, brow creasing in concern. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“King Sejong?” you laughed hysterically, convinced that you had hit your head so hard that you were seeing and hearing things. “What is this? Joseon Dynasty?”

“Precisely, my lady.” she responded, concern creeping onto her features. 

“You’re awfully good at acting. Hollywood should recruit you.” you mumble, flopping back on the pallet with a groan, eyes tracing the wooden arches and pattern of the ceiling. 

“Hollywood..? I don’t think I understand, my lady.” 

Sighing, you sit back up, eyes heavy with fatigue. You were tired of arguing with her so you decided to play along. “Ok then, where am I right now?” 

“It is 1437 in Joseon, during the reign of King Sejong.”

You scoffed, disbelief written all over your face. “There’s no way.” Regardless, you stumble to your feet, ignoring the girl’s feeble attempt at stopping you. Stopping in front of the window, you eye the wooden shades before unlatching them. 

Expecting the soaring skyscrapers and buildings as well as milling groups of tourists and busy traffic in the streets, your heart almost stops when you see a rustic village, with people leading around horses, resembling nothing of Seoul. Seoul was a city of metal and glass, of advanced technology and modern inventions, yet here, the midnight sky was clear of dust and smoke and you swore you could see every star in the Milky Way.

Stout buildings made up this village, mainly made of wood and brick and the well-trodden dirt path was dimly lit by torches. It was quiet outside, with few people still wandering the streets, you assumed they were all inside, based on the amount of well-lit houses. Gradually, you realized that they were all wearing the traditional garment of historical Korea and although you frantically surveyed the landscape, your eyes scanning every single nook and cranny of the town, everything still remained unfamiliar and foreign.

Leaning forward, you feel the wind whisper its secrets in your ear. “There’s no way.” you whisper to yourself, dragging a hand down your face as you shut your eyes, hoping that this strange world would disappear, replaced by the comforting familiarity of Seoul.

It was not possible to travel back in time...right?

»»————-　　————-««

Numbly, you sit and let Eun-ji, the girl who was apparently your handmaiden, brush your hair. The wooden brush was methodically soothing against your scalp, but did nothing for your frazzled nerves. From listening to Eun-ji, you were Lady (Y/n), supposedly the daughter of a noble family in the Joseon Dynasty, about 6 centuries before your time. 

Blankly, you stare at the wall in front of you. As the only daughter of the family, you were supposed to be married off to a rich man to improve your family’s reputation and financial standing, proving how corrupt society was. 

However, your husband-to-be was the crown prince, which was a rare occurrence. You supposed that you were lucky, but you suspected that the prince was just another posh and spoiled jerk who was accustomed to the leisurely and luxurious ways of life. 

“Say...I can’t avoid the wedding right?” you chirp with false positivity, dislodging the brush from your hair as you turn around to stare at Eun-ji with hopeful eyes.

“A-absolutely not! My lady, this is unavoidable! Your father already agreed and gave out the dowry.” she stuttered, appalled at your question.

“Besides, you’re lucky to marry the crown prince! He’s really handsome, courageous and respectful. I heard a servant girl once fainted after seeing him smile at her.” Eun-ji gossips dreamily, clasping her hands together.

You shook your head. Of course the crown prince would act like that in public. How else would he work his propaganda and trick everyone into supporting him? You drift off, toning out the girl’s wistful fantasizing, anxious over the fact that you had travelled back in time, which shouldn’t be physically possible. With basically no experience or knowledge on the Joseon Dynasty, you doubted you’d be able to survive a second without getting tricked or lured into danger. Tuning back into the one-sided conversation, you manage to catch the last bit of Eun-ji’s sentence. 

“...travelling to the imperial palace tomorrow.”

Travelling to where now? 

“Everyone is so busy preparing tomorrow’s trip. We’re so excited that you’re getting married! And to royalty at that! Don’t worry, my lady, I’ll be accompanying you!” she declares, grinning sunnily at you, either purposely ignoring your apparent concern or she just didn’t notice.

You reluctantly recline back in your seat, shoulders screaming with how tense your muscles were, allowing Eun-ji to continue to brush and detangle your hair, trying to digest all the information your poor brain was just told. You wouldn’t be surprised if a war started next morning, with how bad your luck currently was. 

Closing your eyes, you channel all your strength into resisting the urge to punch a wall and let out a string of curses. Not only was it deemed un-ladylike, possibly earning you the disappointment of your parents, it could potentially draw suspicion and unwanted attention.

All you could do for now was to go along with flow and figure out an escape later, when you had milked all the answers and surprises out of Joseon.

»»————-　　————-««

You throw the windows open, frowning when you are met with the sight of ominous gray clouds gathering. It was as if the heavens themselves knew there was something wrong. You squint, trying to find any hint of the sun hidden behind the clouds, but to your dismay, it was dark and dismal, reflecting your mood. 

You wave away the maid hovering nearby, silently commanding her to give you some personal space. The moment you hear her light steps recede, you slouch, pulling a face. Today was the day you would be entering the palace, and a couple of days later, your marriage into the imperial family. 

You swallow thickly, gripping the material of your night robes nervously. You eyed the distance down from the window, wondering if you could jump down without breaking an ankle and run away from all your problems. Before you could seriously contemplate it, footsteps alert you of another’s presence and you hurriedly straighten your back, pulling your shoulders back into what you hoped was a confident and elegant poise. 

You turn around, meeting the gaze of your supposed mother. Although you felt uneasy addressing her as such, you felt comfort knowing that there was an older figure who could guide you and give advice.

“How are you feeling?” she asks quietly, standing close enough for her arm to brush against yours. You stiffen, making sure to give off an air of confidence. “I am feeling fine. After all, it is my job to bring honour to our family.” you replied, flashing a smile that weakens when she doesn’t return it, instead staring back at you with wise eyes. 

“(Y/n).” 

You tense, before giving a smile so forced, it felt like your lips were stretched too far. “Don’t worry, mother.” The word “mother” felt bitter on your tongue. It felt wrong to address this woman as your mother, even if she had similar qualities to your mom in your time.

The woman hesitated slightly before nodding curtly. “Then, you should start getting prepared.” She turned away, gesturing to the servants who were waiting with countless trays of jewelry and garments as well as combs and cosmetic products. 

Your mother’s trusted lady-in-waiting approaches you, an older woman with graying hair at her temples and lines around her eyes, tilting your chin up, frowning at your eye bags and dark circles. You offer a meek smile when she tsks, barking out orders to the waiting servants. They hustle around you, reminding you of bees buzzing busily around a blooming flower. Several girls work silently on coaxing your hair into an intricate updo while the rest observe your face and prepare the clothes and accessories. 

You sneeze when the lady-in-waiting pats powder on your face, earning another disapproving look. You slouch, letting them do whatever they want. The moment your hair and features are perfectly done, you’re dragged behind a screen as they strip you, folding your night robes neatly as they work to squeeze you into a lovely garment, shimmering silk of vivid amber and vermillion, plain yet exquisite, seen from the expertly sewn hems and edges and the gorgeous material. 

Squeaking, you straighten hurriedly as the lady-in-waiting tugs sharply on the ribbon, tying it into a delicate bow at the back. A mirror is thrust into your face and you hesitate slightly before taking it. Gasping, you peer at your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself, exuding an air of grace and elegance, your hair swept up as your features were flawlessly accentuated and the bold colours of your clothing brought out the life in your eyes and the ruby-red of your lips. You stare at your reflection, not missing the lady-in-waiting’s smug smirk as she dabs rose water on the sides of your neck.

They push you out the doors of your chamber and you stumble unceremoniously before regaining your balance. Outside, your mother awaits you, tears filling her pretty eyes as she takes you in, pride and affection lighting up her face. Stepping forward, she grabs your hands, tears slowly falling down and automatically, you brush them off with feather-light touches. 

“Are you ready?” she whispers, squeezing your hands. Your features soften when you notice the genuine concern in her eyes. You nod, smiling tenderly. Your father approaches you, a heavy hand falling on your shoulder. Although he seems indifferent, you can decipher love and satisfaction in his midnight-black eyes. Awkwardly, he pulls you into an embrace and you choke back a laugh, tears filling your own eyes. Even if they weren’t your parents, past (Y/n) was lucky to have them. 

“Bring honour to our family, (Y/n).” His thunderous voice rumbles through you and you sense the vulnerability in his tone before he pulls away, the proud smile on his face making your heart soar. 

Raising your chin, you match his smile with yours. “I will.”

»»————-　　————-««

You wait in the palanquin, your hands clenching the exquisite silk of your garment anxiously. Hearing giggling, you lift the screen obscuring the small window to your right, peering out into the sunshine.

"Do you think she'll survive in the palace?"

"I know she's not going to. Have you seen her? I bet she can’t even last a few days in the palace without embarrassing herself.” The taller girl sneers, lips curling in contempt.

You watch as the girls titter elegantly behind their fans, your anger simmering as your grasp tightens, knuckles whitening. Lifting your chin proudly, you vow to prove them wrong.

»»————-　　————-««

“Are you not excited to see your bride-to-be, Sangyeon?” 

The crown prince turns to see his brother smirking slyly at him, his gaze implying. “Don’t be immature, Sejo,” he replied rigidly, fixing his gaze on the horizon, jaw tense. 

“I heard she’s quite a pretty thing. I wouldn’t mind having her by my side.” Sejo continues,  inspecting the scenery nonchalantly. 

“Stop referring to her like she’s a plaything. Besides, you know there’s still Hwi-bin.” Sangyeon sighs, not even looking at his brother as he adjusts his robes carefully, palms smoothing over the navy silk and the slight scratchiness of the gold embroidered on it. 

Sejo rolls his eyes at the mention of Hwi-bin. “There are plenty of gorgeous and noblewomen clamouring to be with you, yet you’re still captivated by her.”

“I am not you. I am interested in having a stable and mutually loving relationship. After all, I am not the one going to pleasure houses in Hanseong.” Sangyeon retorts, and although he sounds aggravated, his eyes twinkle with amusement. 

A chuckle escapes from him when he hears Sejo mutter "boring" underneath his breath.

In response, his brother scoffs but a smile plays on his lips. Turning his gaze to observe the scenery, he becomes solemn, the smile disappearing. “You’re going to have to break things off with Hwi-bin, brother.” 

At the change of topic, Sangyeon groans, throwing back his head. "It's not as easy as it sounds." 

"You're going to have to do it, for the future of our country." Sejo reprimanded, uncharacteristically serious, unsettling the prince. 

“Now you’re starting to sound like father,” Sangyeon grumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers. Lately, he hadn’t been able to sleep well, evident by the dark circles under his eyes and his sunken cheeks. The lack of sleep clearly didn’t do wonders for the recurring migraines he had everyday, and all he wanted was to get the marriage over with, if only to stop his parents’ nagging. 

Sejo sighed dramatically, already opening his mouth to yap away but Sangyeon turned away, squinting into the horizon, seeing a palanquin in the distance, the tiny tassels dancing as the platform swayed rhythmically, the family crest held up proudly.

Squaring his shoulders, he inhaled sharply before vaulting himself on the horse, who nickered softly in greeting as the male stroked its nose. “They’re here.”

»»————-　　————-««

Hearing the door slide open, you turn around, seeing Sangyeon in the doorway.

You bow deeply, averting your gaze respectfully. Only when he acknowledges your presence do you straighten, the silk of your hanbok rustling softly. The journey here was nothing remarkable, and although you thought the riches of your home was extravagant enough, the furniture of the imperial palace was outrageously lavish, your home paling in comparison. You inch away from the jade vase you were gaping at previously, terrified of shattering it.

"What are you here for, Your Excellency?" you ask politely, your gaze settling on him.

"My father has commanded me to show you around Hanseong. He hopes for you to see the glory and learn the ways of the imperial city." the crown prince states, his voice void of any emotion as he studies you, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

Hesitating, you nod, giving him a tiny smile. "I would love to."

"I shall call for a palanquin then," Sangyeon responds and although he turns away, you can see the flash of distaste on his face. When he steps towards the exit to leave, you call out, causing him to stop.

 What is it, Lady (Y/n)?" he turns around, raising an eyebrow.

You wince at the way he addresses you so formally. Although it served as a form of respect, it felt foreign and it made him feel even more distant.

"Is it alright if we could go by horse?" you dare to ask, anticipating his answer. After suffering through the whole journey to the imperial palace in such a suffocating space, you were determined to never experience it again.

When you notice the blank look on his face, you shake your head quickly. "Pretend I didn't say anything, Your Excellency." you hastily add, lowering your gaze. 

Sangyeon's lips part slightly as he considers. He has to admit; he was pleasantly shocked by your request. Many distinguished ladies such as yourself were quite comfortable inside a palanquin, shielded from the world and its dangers.

He preferred experiencing things first-hand, on the back of a horse, racing through golden fields of wheat and feeling the wind tousle his hair. It provided a sense of freedom before he returned to the restraining imperial palace. Sangyeon hated travelling in a palanquin as it reminded him of his royal status and how it prompted others to treat him differently.

"Of course. We will leave at dusk then," he says stiffly, before proceeding to leave, the dark lacquered floorboards creaking slightly under his footsteps. Raising your head, you watch his figure disappear from your sight, a relieved sigh escaping your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curl into a small smile.

Perhaps you weren't as dreadful as he thought.

»»————-　　————-««

Just as planned, you found Sangyeon waiting with two horses outside the gate, his sharp jawline accentuated by the coral rays of the setting sun. He didn’t notice you, his eyes trained on something you couldn’t see. Slowing your pace, you drag your feet in the soft mud, wondering if it was a mistake to refuse the offer of a palanquin. After all, you weren’t well accustomed with horses. You envisioned yourself falling off the horse mid-journey and shuddered, not eager to have a repeat of an incident. Clenching your jaw in determination, you told yourself that you were doing this to prove to the prince that you were different. Marching towards him briskly, you greeted him with a bow, with which he acknowledged stiffly. 

Sangyeon chuckled softly, seeing you stare doubtfully at the horse, offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. Hoisting you onto your stead, you struggled to regain balance for a few seconds, your heart hammering against your ribs. As if sensing your uncertainty, the horse snorts, tossing its head and you yelp, gripping the reins tightly, only causing the horse to angrily neigh, becoming even more restless.

“Relax, you’re only throwing the horse off.” he utters, seating himself on his stead with an easy air that came with constant practice. 

“I know that.” you shoot back, daring a glance at the prince. Sangyeon seems surprised at first, eyebrows arched in question, then laughing heartily, startling you. It was the first time you had seen him expressing mirth, instead of his usual intimidating stoic expression.

Before you can ride off, a shout is heard from behind you. Turning around in the saddle, you notice a guard dashing towards you, sweat matting his hair. “Your Excellency, you can’t just run off like that. Your Majesty has assigned me to assist you and Lady (Y/n).”

Sangyeon waves him off dismissively. “We don’t need a guard. But if it comes to it, I can protect us both.” At that, he pulls back his robe, revealing a lethal-looking dagger sheathed at his hip.

The guard opens his mouth, attempting to protest but Sangyeon gives him a stern look. “That’s an order.” You watch on quietly as the guard sullenly walks back at the prince’s words. Sangyeon turns his horse back around with a slight tug of the reins. “Let’s get going. It’s ideal to be back before nightfall.” 

You nod, tugging lightly on your reins. “Try to keep up.” he snickers, displaying an uncharacteristically playful and teasing side. You gasp, offended. Sure, you didn’t have much experience with horses, especially compared to him but you were certain you’d be able to pick it up quickly.

 “I am fully capable of keeping up, Your Excellency” you retorted, your pride stinging slightly. 

“We’ll see.” Sangyeon gives you a boyish smirk as he nudges at his horse’s flanks, settling into a steady pace.

»»————-　　————-««

It’s quiet in the forest and you are aware of the tense silence that hangs between you and Sangyeon. Clearing your throat, you start to think of conversation starters, desperate to try and befriend the prince. It would be better to make friends and allies instead of foes. Before you can speak, Sangeon beats you to it. 

“Just so you know, the marriage is tomorrow.”

You gape, clenching the reins so hard, your stead whinnies in protest. Relaxing your grip in apology, you turn to face Sangyeon. “So soon?” 

He nods, clearly dissatisfied. “It’s always best to marry young and my father is convinced it will help establish my power to prevent a coup d'état.”

You don’t respond, your body swaying to the rhythmic trotting of the horse. 

“You might not be aware, but I…” Sangyeon hesitates, struggling to find the correct words. You watch him curiously, waiting patiently for him to continue. 

“I already have a lover.” he continues, “unfortunately, you will not be getting the marriage you dreamed of, Lady (Y/n).”

You secretly celebrate in your mind, glad that the male felt the same way. Being forced into an arranged marriage to establish power and reputation was not something you had thought would happen anytime, yet it had happened anyway. You had miserably hoped that this feeling wasn’t one-sided and it seemed like the gods granted you this wish. 

“First of all, please drop the formalities. Just call me (Y/n).” you instruct, and amused, Sangyeon agrees and requests of you to do the same. If you were to be stuck in a marriage with him, you might as well seek out more information and become good friends. 

“Second, you don’t need to worry. I’m not exactly pleased to be in an arranged marriage, even if it’s with royalty, so I don’t care if you have another lover.” you laugh, and Sangyeon’s worry melts away, replaced by an easy smile.

“Thank god.” he mutters under his breath, clearly relieved. For some reason, you find it hilarious, bursting into uncontrollable laughter which he eventually joins in. With tears in your eyes, you catch your breath before getting thrown into another bout of laughter by his little dance of victory. Calming down, you turn to Sangyeon who was smiling brightly, admiring the way the dying sunlight reflected on his hair and danced in his eyes. He looked lively and carefree, with his rosy cheeks and tousled hair and you were sure you would’ve fallen in love with him if you had met him in your time. Alas, it was the wrong person and wrong time. 

“How about this?” you speak up, and he perks up at your question, eager to please. 

“I think we should be friends.” you beam at him, experiencing the most joy and freedom since arriving in Joseon. Screw arranged marriages, no one should get to decide who you marry and who you don’t! 

Sangyeon tilts his head, pretending to contemplate your offer before nudging his horse in your direction, pulling closer to you. Reaching out, he extends his hand, eyes twinkling with mischief and mirth.

Grinning, you accept it, shaking hands firmly. “Deal.”

»»————-　　————-««

A day later, you sit on the bed, itching to take off all the silk garments that were bound tightly against your body, suffocating you. The marriage flew by in a blur and all you could remember was watching Sangyeon ascend the steps, his regal face solemn and void of any emotion. When his gaze had connected with yours, his lips had quirked up slightly, as if reassuring you that it would be alright, before masked with seriousness once again. 

Shaking your head, laughter bubbles out your throat. Out of all the things you thought would happen in the past, getting married wasn’t anywhere in the list. At least, you could boast that you had gotten married first out of all your friends, although you doubted they would believe you.

Humming softly, you listened to the sound of the night; cicadas and crickets chirping and you could hear the distant sound of a bubbling creek. Nothing like the busy city of present-day Seoul, you mused. While fiddling with your fingers, nature’s melodies lull you into a sense of peace and you sigh softly, too much time on your hands. Then, it struck you. It was the wedding night.

Disgusted, you banished the horrifying thoughts before you looked around for something to defend yourself with, just in case. Silver blades gleam in the candlelight and you catch a glimpse of your scowling face as you reach out to grab the scissors. Although Sangyeon didn’t seem like it, if he tried to take advantage of you, he’d have multiple nasty stab wounds that you hoped to avoid inflicting. 

Speak of the devil.

The doors slide open, revealing Sangyeon, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold air, as well as a few drinks, you suspected. You watch him warily, like a lioness stalking its prey. He shrugs off the ceremonial robes, revealing the plain garment underneath. Finishing, he turns towards you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to sleep like that?” he questions, gesturing to the extravagant wedding hanbok. 

Smoothing over the creases in the silk, you trace the embroidered peonies on the crimson material. You shake your head, wincing when you feel the heavy headpiece shift, yanking at your hair. Although it was gorgeous, the material was restricting and weighted, with a ridiculous amount of layers, hindering your movements. Standing, you silently untie the bow, letting the silk pool around your waist as you work to take off the headpiece and release your hair from its torture. Sangyeon takes it and carefully places it on the table as you fold the ceremonial garment neatly, leaving it next to the ornamental headpiece. 

Standing in your night robe, you and Sangyeon stare at each other, his gaze flicking down to the scissors in your hand and understanding floods his face. When you don’t move, he sits on the pallet before reclining back. “I’m not going to do anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sangyeon says softly, eyes trained on your face. 

When you relax, he grins, the atmosphere becoming more light-hearted. “Do I really seem like that type of person?” he continues, scrunching his nose as he gave you a look of mock hurt that you ignored.

You place down the scissors before gracelessly flopping on the bed, jostling Sangyeon, causing him to yelp. You close your eyes, fatigue overcoming you. “Goodnight” you mumble, yawning widely as you turn on your side, making sure to keep a safe distance. 

When he doesn’t respond, you shift to face him, stifling laughter when you realize that he was already fast asleep, mouth ajar, chest rising and falling steadily. You watch him sleep for a while, his face serene and almost angelic before turning back on your side, closing your eyes. 

Mumbling in his sleep, he throws an arm over your waist and you freeze, before gingerly lifting his arm off, uncomfortable with such displays of physical affection. Closing your eyes, you’re overcome with a sudden nostalgia and longing for your present time and you sigh, praying that you would be able to return before your eyelids droop, slowly drifting off to dreamland. 

»»————-　　————-««

Over several days, you and Sangyeon have gotten to know each other well, thanks to late night conversations and going on adventures to escape the controlling grip of the imperial palace, where you felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a judging glance thrown your way. 

You would be lying if you didn’t find Sangyeon attractive. With his easy smile and the confident aura that he practically radiated, you cursed the gods for not creating such gorgeous men in your time. However, things have changed between you and him. Lately, you had caught him sneaking furtive glances at you and you had to admit that you had been doing the same, although you were sure you were more subtle. 

Last night, you and Sangyeon had laid together in the darkness, limbs tangled in the sheets, but no one made an effort to detangle themself from the material. Tentatively, you tested the waters and leaned against his arm. As expected, he slipped the arm out but to your surprise, he repositioned it around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body. 

“You awake?” 

You had whispered into the quietness of the room and he had hummed in response. In the shadows of the room, you barely saw him shift. “Is something wrong?” He had lowered his voice to match yours, as if sharing a sacred secret. 

You shook your head, but quickly realized he probably couldn’t see you. “I can’t sleep, that’s all.” You had felt his laughter, the vibration rumbling through his chest and travelling down to your bones. “What a coincidence, I can’t either.”

You thought for a while before asking him to tell you more about himself. Although you had spent the days getting to know each other, it was one-sided. Him, nodding and listening intently while you had blabbered about yourself and any entertaining story you could think of, leaving out the important detail about coming from the future. Compiling, Sangyeon had then started telling stories about his childhood and his daily life. 

Delighted, you had curled up in a ball, feeling drowsy as he continued to speak, his soothing voice lulling you to sleep. Sensing your tiredness from your lack of response, he stops abruptly and when you blearily ask him why he stopped, he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to sing the rich melody of an unfamiliar song and your eyes widen momentarily in amazement, before fluttering close. Sangyeon’s voice was mellifluous, warm and honeyed, reminding you of a pleasant spring day, warm sunshine filtering through a canopy of trees while birds sang their individual melodies, yet still harmonizing to create a beautiful orchestration. 

Before you succumb to the enticing pull of sleep, Sangyeon wishes you a good sleep and for a second, your muddled brain ponders if you imagined the feeling of his lips against your forehead.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the door sliding open until footsteps jolt you into attention. Looking up, you lock eyes with Hwi-bin, Sangyeon’s first love. 

Your eyes rove over her features and you can’t help but feel envious. You could tell why Sangyeon loved her so intensely. Big, doe eyes, flawless skin, plush rosebud-like lips and long, silky hair. Hwi-bin was so beautiful that she was practically a goddess and you were convinced that if she was in your time, she’d have all the boys clamouring for her attention. 

As she greeted you, you panicked, opening your mouth as the gears in your head furiously functioned, trying to patch together words. Hwi-bin giggled at your flustered display before grabbing your hands, passion and urgency burning in the deep pools of her eyes.

“My lady, I am here to talk about the crown prince.”

You gulp involuntarily, your mind still a jumbled mess. “L-listen-” 

Before you can piece together your sentence, she interrupts you. “I just want to know if you love him or not. I’ll understand if you say you do, and I promise I won’t interfere with your marriage.”

Frantically, you shake your head. “I don’t love him, I swear.” Jealousy was a poison, dangerous enough to taint the hearts of even the most innocent or kind people. You knew from experience and you hoped Hwi-bin wasn’t like the crazy female characters in kdramas vowing for revenge. 

Noticeably relieved, she lets go of your hands, gratitude shining in her eyes. “I’m glad, then.” Hwi-bin turns away and leaves with an apologetic smile, saying that she was busy, although she regretted not being able to gossip with you. You nod, already staring off in a distance, unfocused, gradually losing yourself in the lucid world of your imagination.

If you had cared to look closely, you would’ve seen the malevolent smirk on Hwi-bin’s face and the dark, vindictive glimmer in her eyes. 

Oh, what a fool.

»»————-　　————-««

As you’re about to pay your respects to the queen, you cross paths with the king’s favourite concubine.  She regards you stonily as you step into a bow, dipping your head respectfully. Although your eyes are fixed on the ground, you can feel her slowly circling you. Uncomfortable, you shift slightly, feeling like prey pinned underneath a predator’s deadly stare. 

“I don’t understand how you got chosen amongst the millions of women practically begging to be the prince’s consort.” she muses, halting in front of you. Her voice was husky and deep like she smoked tobacco every day. Although it wasn’t melodious or lovely, you understood the allure and sensuality of it. 

You flinch when she grabs you by the chin, tilting your face up roughly, her grip bruising as she examines your features. Eun-Ji gasps, opening her mouth to protest but a sharp glance from the concubine silences her. 

“You’re not exceptionally beautiful either, rather average.” she continues, before letting go of your face. “Perhaps it is because your family is rich.” 

Your eye twitches before you school your features into a serene expression, allowing her to continue to direct insults and jabs at you. You knew better than to give her what she wanted.

“Sadly, the prince won’t be giving you much attention. You’ll die alone here. Besides, you’re just a willing pawn who will submit to her future king until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then, he’ll throw you away.” she feigns a pitiful expression before laughing mockingly, the sound grating and unpleasant. You recoil slightly when she leans in, her face mere inches from yours.

“However, as long as I live, that scoundrel won’t be the successor to the throne and you won’t be there to help aid his ascent to power.” she spits, her voice venomous, a drastic change compared to her relaxed words a few seconds ago. 

“Don’t call him a scoundrel,” you shoot back, resisting the urge to strike her. Yes, you had originally thought he was just a pompous prince who was power-hungry but after spending time with him, you realized that Sangyeon wasn’t truly as bad as you imagined. He was respectful and kind, clearly valuing and putting others before himself. 

The moment the words are out your mouth, you know it’s over for you. Although you could get severely disciplined for talking back, you felt no regret, only sick satisfaction.

Her eyes flash with anger and her hand strikes out, slapping you across the face with so much force you lose your balance, falling on the ground. Eun-Ji cries out, kneeling next to you as she examines you for any injuries.

“That’ll teach you a lesson. Telling me to respect him? Learn your place first.” she hisses, crouching down to your level and wiping her hand on the full skirt of your hanbok, as if there was grime on her hand from touching your face.  “Aren’t you so pathetic? Apologize to me and I’ll think about forgiving you.” she croons, expecting your grovelling. 

You consider for a heartbeat, weighing the two options. “I’d rather die.” you growl, bristling. When her smug expression morphs into something akin to shock, you feel a surge of pride. Although you knew better than to go around provoking other ladies of the court who could bring upon your demise, you did not want to be meek, thrown and played around with, like a toy underneath the lethal claws of a feline. 

“You want to get punished, don’t you?” she utters, livid. “That’s fine, kneel until your precious little prince finds you and saves you, just like the hero you’ve dreamed of.” You bite back the urge to tell her that you didn’t need a man to save you. You were fully capable of saving yourself. You detested being treated as a damsel-in-distress, just waiting for someone to take pity on her. 

“I guarantee he won’t, he will be too infatuated with Hwi-bin to care about you.” she derides, lips curling in a contemptuous smile. 

You open your mouth to refute, but she has already glided away, the silk of her lavish garment rippling underneath the light as her entourage follows her, their heads bowed. You growl in frustration before attempting to get up but Eun-Ji stops you, shaking her head. 

“If you don’t heed her order, you could get thrown into the dungeon,” she whispers frantically, her eyes shifting as she holds on to your wrist tightly. 

You shake your head in disdain. “Are you seriously scared of her?” you ask, trying to pry her fingers off your sleeve, the material of your garment creasing underneath her grip. 

She nods, relaxing her grip. "She has more power than you think she does. She could order your death if she wanted to." 

You bite back the colourful string of curses that you wanted to spew. Surely, that wasn't what a lady of the court would do. So you forced yourself to calm down, taking deep breaths before shifting, raising yourself to kneel. 

Hours pass, the rays of sunlight growing weaker as more and more clouds collect but you refuse to lower your chin, head held high. You don't bother glancing at the servants and nobles who walk past, whispering behind their hands as they eye you. 

Even if humiliation caused the blood to rush to your face and your knees to shake, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of watching you break.

Rain starts to fall, gently at first, nothing but mist before the storm gray clouds roll in and suddenly it pours, pelting against the ground with so much force it causes the small puddles to ripple. You don't brush the raindrops away from your face, allowing them to continue cascading down. You already know your hair and garments are drenched and it sends chills through you. You clench your jaw, gritting your teeth to stop them chattering from the cold.

Where was Sangyeon?

»»————-　　————-««

You wake up, groaning as a panging headache hits you. Struggling, you sit up, eyes widening as you take in your surroundings, recognizing the familiar tapestries hanging on the wall and priceless decor that is placed in the room, lacquered floors shining, not even a hint of dust apparent. You tilted your head to the side, confused. You didn’t remember much from yesterday, except that you had made an enemy with the royal concubine and that she had told you to kneel as punishment for disrespecting her. 

You draw in a sharp breath. That could only mean one thing, right? Sangyeon had found you and safely returned you to your chambers. Which meant….

You shook your head, shaking off the smug triumph like a dog shaking off water. Still, you had to know it, had to hear it for yourself. 

Propping yourself up, you call for your lady-in-waiting. Eun-ji rushes to your aid, carrying a basin of water and a towel. With the speed of her pace, the water splashes against the sides of the basin, threatening to spill. 

She presses a hand against your forehead, concern creasing her brow when she feels the heat that practically radiates off of it. You smile when Eun-ji places the damp cloth on, your heart warming at how caring and considerate she is. 

"Why are you smiling, my lady?"

You recline on the propped cushions, eyes closed. "It's nothing. What happened?"

Eun-ji hesitates slightly before speaking up. “The queen came across your unconscious figure and ordered me to bring you home. She promised that she’d lift off the punishment that the concubine gave you.”

You turn, so quickly your head starts to spin and you feel faint. Groaning, you close your eyes for a heartbeat, focusing on your steady breathing and the warmth of her hands pushing your damp hair off your face. 

Footsteps hammer against the wooden floors and you twist around to peer at the door. Your heart soars when you see Sangyeon in the doorway, face flushed and breath strained as he pants, attempting to catch his breath. Despite his disordered appearance, he was handsome as always, dark, cocoa brown eyes sparkling in the sunshine, causing him to glow, features perfectly lit in the warm golden light. 

He stumbles towards you and Eun-ji quietly leaves as he catches your face with both hands, the heat of them seeping into your skin as he examines your face for any hint of injury or discomfort. Frowning, he speaks as he inspects the faint red on your check. 

“I heard what happened and I came as quickly as I could-”

"You were with her, weren't you?" you interrupt, voice quiet but it sounds loud to your ringing ears, echoing in the otherwise silent room. 

Sangyeon hesitates, clearly reluctant. "Answer me." you snap and you're in awe of your own boldness. An attitude like this could doom you, as seen with the incident that happened only a couple of hours ago. 

You figured you had nothing to lose, anyways. 

"...Yes." 

You sigh, dropping yourself right back on the futon, hair messily splayed out. You didn’t dare admit that it bothered you more than you’d like. After all, you were the one married to Sangyeon. Not Hwi-bin, not someone else, but you.  Not to mention he was awfully handsome and charming, confident, sweet and--

You broke off the train of thoughts, directing your focus somewhere else. You rubbed your temples, feeling an oncoming migraine and you furiously willed it to go away. "Listen Sangyeon," you began, meeting the gaze of the male next to you. 

"If you want to convince everyone that we're madly in love, you're going to have to act like it."

At your statement, Sangyeon tilts his head like a lost puppy. “What do you mean?”

For a crown prince who supposedly was a high-class scholar, excelling in both studies and skills, he could be so dim. You suppress the sigh that threatened to escape, instead meeting his gaze squarely to try and prove your point. “They can’t know we’re not in love, you idiot. The queen recently told me she was looking forward to becoming a grandmother, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed, shaking your fists in exasperation, trying to emphasize your point and get it through his thick skull. 

Sangyeon looked absolutely horrified, mouth hanging open, and you almost laughed at how comical his face looked before your heart dropped. Was it that terrifying to be in a marriage with you? You conceal your hurt, instead sitting up, the duvet pooling around your waist. You struggle with the silk, frowning at how restraining the material was. 

Shaking his head, he lifts his hands to grip your shoulders, ceasing your movements. You stall, heat blossoming in your face at how close he is. Sangyeon’s face is close to yours and you can feel every breath he takes. Turning away, you try to distract yourself from his lips, merely inches from yours and the way his breath tickled your cheek. Your mind was shrieking like a crushing schoolgirl about to have her first kiss and you divert your attention elsewhere, ashamed of your bold thoughts.

“Is it that bad, being in an arranged marriage with me?” you tease weakly, loosening his grip on your shoulders as you clear your throat, bumping your shoulder against his playfully, trying to lighten the serious mood.

Suddenly, Sangyeon avoids your eyes, cheeks reddening. “It really isn’t.” he whispers, puffing his cheeks out. “It’s not what you think.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I care more than you think.” Sangyeon admits, and immediately buries his face into his hands, already dreading his decision to tell you. You stared at him, stunned. Was this...a confession? When you stay silent, he peeks through his fingers, only to be met with your face, centimeters from his. Eyes widening almost comically, he tries to shy away but you lean in closer to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Sangyeon’s blush deepens and he instantly interprets your hidden message in the display of affection. 

Silence ensues, but it’s not awkward, rather the opposite. Hesitantly, he picks up your hand and plays with your fingers, gaze dropping bashfully to his lap. The room seems to brighten, becoming more colourful and vivid. Pale and washed-out colours of misery and despair are replaced by the spirited and vigorous colours of yellow irises and peach blossoms. 

Suddenly, Sangyeon pulls you, mindful of your feverish body, but with enough force so that you land in his lap. Laughing, you prop your chin on his shoulder and run your hands through his hair as his arms snake around your waist, snuggling into the crook of your neck. 

“What about Hwi-bin?” you ask timidly and your question seems to partially dissipate the whimsical mood. Pulling away, Sangyeon considers your question as he twirls a lock of your hair around his finger. 

“I’ll have to tell her.” he says firmly, “It’s not right to keep this from her. But our relationship is technically public because we are married.” With his last statement, he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you shove him away playfully, pulling a disgusted face. 

“You’re making me regret reciprocating your feelings.” 

Sangyeon gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest. “How could you say that?” 

He lunges forward, capturing you in his arms as he tries to tickle you but you block him with your hands, grappling for control until you finally latch onto his wrists, obstructing his movements. Sangyeon presses his forehead against yours before frowning, pulling back. 

“You’re feverish, (Y/n).” he tells you gently, turning to grab the abandoned cloth that had fallen off, submerging it in the cool water before placing it back on your forehead. You’re about to make a snarky remark but Sangyeon shushes you, your smirk disappearing, replaced with a pout.

“I’ve got paperwork to do so I’ll leave you to rest. Get better, (Y/n).” 

You nod, closing your eyes, a smile settling on your lips as you listen to his soft footsteps recede into the distance and when you sink into sleep, not even one nightmare plagues it.

 »»————-　　————-««

Laughter fills the shadows of the forest as you dart away from Sangyeon’s reach, sticking your tongue out childishly. “Try and catch me!” you call, nothing but adrenaline and joy running through your veins, fueling you to feel foolishly carefree, like you were drunk on the finest alcohol. Running away, you spread your arms out like the wings of an eagle, tilting your head back, enjoying the feeling of the wind caressing your face. 

Your eyes widen when you notice something white from a distance. You fall prey to your curiosity as you meander along, picking your way carefully amongst the fallen leaves and large roots of ancient trees that snake through the dirt of the forest floor. 

Heart pounding, you reach the mysterious object, inhaling sharply when you realize that it’s a lovely young woman asleep on the floor, gossamer robes covering her frame. Shaking her shoulder, you attempt to rouse her, eyes roving over her face and body to search for telltale signs of injury. Noticing none, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Turning away, you attempt to call out to Sangyeon, but a hand slaps over your mouth, muffling your cry.

Turning around, you realize the woman is awake and fear strikes you when you note the glimmer of menace in her black, pitless eyes. “(Y/n) (L/n),” she begins, and as she speaks, her robes shift, revealing nine tails, pure as snow. Her hand lifts off your mouth but her eyes tell you that if you were to scream she wouldn’t hesitate to resort to violence. 

Briefly, you remember the tale of the nine-tailed fox before terror erases it, all reason leaving you in an instant. You couldn’t tell if the woman was trying to give you a friendly greeting or if she’d pull a knife on you in a heartbeat. “H-have we met?” you stammer, laughing nervously to mask your fear. You struggle against her iron grip but your strength is no match for her overpowering one. 

“You come from the future, yes? You are looking for a way to return back to your time and I believe I can aid you with that.” she continues calmly, and you go limp, struggling to find the right words. 

How did she know?

“How I know is none of your business.” she adds sharply, as if she could read your mind. “However...I can tell you how to get back to your time.”

“In exchange for what?” you question warily, finally finding your voice. Staying in Joseon,, you knew better than to accept someone’s offer without finding out what price you had to pay. 

Throwing back her head, the woman lets out a laugh that echoes sharply and you survey your surroundings cautiously to try and detect any lingering eavesdroppers. “Smart girl,” The nine-tailed fox leans back with a smug smile, arms crossed over her chest. “Quite fortunate for you, I demand no price. Whether you accept or not, you must leave as you are interfering with the history of Joseon.” 

“Listen closely, for you won’t have another chance.” says the nine-tailed fox, her voice dropping to a whisper, forcing you to lean in closer, straining to hear her.

“Exactly a week later, the planets will align, creating a rare phenomenon and a celestial light will appear, creating an opening where you can escape back to your time. You may have experienced this when you accidentally travelled here.”

You nod, everything slowly connecting and making sense. The corridor in the palace had glowed brighter and you predicted that it was the same celestial light that had allowed you to travel back in time. “How are you sure this will work?” you ask, doubtful.

The woman seems taken aback by your question, then offended. “You have to trust me. It’s your only chance and it is a rare occurrence so it will only happen many centuries later. I doubt a mere mortal like you could live that long.” At that, she barks a laugh before sobering, suddenly grasping your hands with her cold ones.

“You were wrong to fall in love. Joseon does not need you here. You must break ties with your prince and leave before you alter the history, ultimately changing the way your world works as well.” she states, urgency dripping from her voice as she stares into your eyes, any sign of the previous mockery and mirth gone. 

You incline your head in understanding. “I understand,” you breathe. “Although...where am I supposed to find this celestial light?”

Suddenly, the sound of fallen leaves crunching alert you of another presence and the woman whips her head in the direction, eyes narrowing. “Look for an open space. The best area would be the bridge that passes over the river.”

“(Y/n)?” 

You startle, recognizing Sangyeon’s voice. Discerning the worry in his voice, you try to pull away from the nine-tailed fox but she tugs on your hands. “Good luck. Your fate is in your hands. No one can change it but you.” 

She disappears, leaving you dazed, kneeling on the ground amidst the autumn leaves. You pick up the closest leaf, staring numbly at the vibrant scarlet colour as you try to decipher the information. Hearing Sangyeon call your name again, you respond, listening to his footsteps gradually increasing in volume.

Scooping you up into his embrace, Sangyeon buries his face into the crook of your face, inhaling your scent. “Where were you? You scared me.” he whines, uncharacteristically pouty.

You laugh shakily, reaching up to squeeze his face, pulling at his cheeks. “Sorry. I got distracted by a fox.” You felt bad lying to him but at least you were technically telling the truth. You did see a fox...just not the type Sangyeon would expect.

“Let’s get out of the forest. It’s starting to get dark.” he answers, not even noticing your lie, despite how your voice trembled. Sangyeon tore his gaze away from you, eyeing the forest. The sun was almost completely set, mist creeping into the forest as a chill descended, creating an eerie atmosphere. You couldn’t help but jump several times when you noticed a shadow slinking near you, shaken from the encounter with the peculiar woman. 

Hiking out of the forest, you huffed, swiping at the sweat that collected on your forehead. It was already evening, the stars and moon already coming out of hiding, shining brightly on you and Sangyeon, your hand clasped tightly in his and you couldn’t help but chuckle amusedly. It was like he was afraid of losing sight of you. Struggling slightly, you shake off his hand, ignoring his protests. 

Trudging to the meadow, you plop down on the grass, stretching your legs out as you sighed in relief, tilting your head back to gaze lazily at the sky.

Patting the space next to you, you beamed at Sangyeon, whose eyes crinkled endearingly as he reciprocated it before settling down in the grass next to you. Absentmindedly, you hum, running your fingers through the blades of grass, raindrops collecting on your fingertips. 

Your thoughts drift away to the encounter with the nine-tailed fox but you push them away, choosing to instead savour the few moments you had alone with Sangyeon. You lower yourself until you’re lying in the grass, lifting a hand to study the stars, silhouetted against the dark night sky and you marvel at how clear it is compared to the sky in your present time, swirls of midnight and navy blue embellished with bands of gold and silver stars that twinkle mysteriously down at you, nothing shielding its pure beauty. 

Fabric rustles as Sangyeon does the same, lying next to you. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body and it lulls you into a sense of safety. Turning your head slightly, you admire him, eyes roving over his sharp features shamelessly, memorizing every slant and curve, tucking it away in your memories. Shifting onto your side, you let your hand reach out, finger gently running along the bridge of his nose before gently tapping it twice. Sangyeon’s lips twitch as he fights back a smile but his eyes flutter close as his hand snaps out to grasp your wrist, lowering it as he brings it to his mouth, softly kissing it before letting go. 

It feels bittersweet, knowing that you had fallen in love with Sangyeon. It was the right person, but the wrong time. Although you didn’t believe in destiny, it felt like you and him were destined to meet, to provide a paradise for the both of you, even if it didn’t last for long.

What was the word again? 

Ephemeral. 

Your relationship with him was ephemeral. Fleeting, short-lived. Something that would last for a short time before you left for good. You closed your eyes as a weight crushed your chest, the reminder that you would leave him behind to a world where things seemed more complicated, especially not with Sangyeon by your side. 

“You alright?”

His soft yet deep voice rouses you out of your thoughts and you can’t help but shudder slightly at how sensuous it sounds. You nod, not trusting yourself enough to form words without stuttering or blurting out something embarrassing. He twists to face you and your palm instinctively moves to cup his face, running feather-light fingertips along his jawline, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. Sangyeon’s eyes flutter close at your touch and his lips curve before he turns to press another kiss to your palm, nuzzling his nose into your hand before he allows you to continue to cradle his face. He exhales shakily. Never in his life has Sangyeon ever felt so free and his heart has never felt so full for someone. Time seemed to stop as you lay on the grass, eyes tracing over the constellations, sparkling like they approved. 

In this moment, titles and responsibilities were stripped away, leaving only vulnerability and fragility behind. Sangyeon wasn’t a crown prince and you weren’t from the future, five hundred years later. In this moment, he was just a normal boy and you were just a girl, exposing yourselves to a beautiful blooming love and throwing yourself recklessly into its embrace. Everything felt magical and just right.

»»————-　　————-««

You blink at Hwi-bin. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t know! You were flirting with Prince Sejo right in public, without shame! How could you? You are married to Prince Sangyeon, the crown prince!” 

You winced at her shrill voice grating on your senses. “I don’t understand what you are trying to say.” you repeat calmly, holding up your hands to try and placate her. You had originally thought Hwi-bin was a sweet girl who wouldn’t swear vengeance but it seemed like your first impression of others was generally incorrect as she was less of a princess, now more like the envious lady in every fairytale who tried to plot the doom of the protagonist.

She huffed, whirling around to face the royal concubine. “My lady, you witnessed it as well!”

The female smirks, leaning forward, her finger tracing over the rim of the porcelain cup in her hand. “How shameful, a noble lady of the court, already married to the crown prince she still flirts and seduces another prince.”

You glare at her, not even trying to mask your hatred for her. “I was simply having a civil conversation with Prince Sejo, my lady. Do I not have the right to speak to other males besides the crown prince?”

“Oh you do.” drawled the concubine, dragging out the words as she stretched out languorously on her seat while you knelt at her feet. “However…” 

She leaned forward, a malicious grin surfacing, reminding you of a hungry hyena ready to attack unexpecting prey. “Romancing another man while you are married to another is punishable by death.”

You crossed your arms, defiant. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh? We’ll have to see what the crown prince says about this.” she laughed and dread formed in your stomach at the sinister tone in her voice. As if on cue, Sangyeon enters, hands folded behind his back.

Hope rises, like doves that fly when the sun rises. A radiant smile spreads on your face, only to be diminished quickly, like a blown out candle. Sangyeon’s face was unreadable, his dark eyes stormy and calculating as he beheld you. You go rigid as he doesn’t acknowledge you, instead turning to lower his head and say something to the concubine. 

He twirls the dagger in his hand, examining it idly, not even bothering to look at you. “Is what she says true?” he asks, finally acknowledging you as he stares at you with pitless, emotionless eyes. You could hardly recognize the man in front of you. Where was the gentle and sweet Sangyeon you had spent all your days with?

You shake your head frantically, trying to calmly reason with him. “Sangyeon, you know I would never do this.” 

“Really?” Sangyeon lifts a brow. “There were people witnessing you trying to seduce my brother and convince him to elope with you, though.”

Heart leaping into your throat, dread forms in your stomach. Everything was going terribly wrong. He was supposed to believe you but he seemed to have morphed into an entirely different person overnight. Sangyeon looked down at you in disdain, as if you were something that was merely wasting his precious time. The captivating feelings of love that had blossomed were now wilting before your very eyes, smooth ruby petals falling, falling and falling, till they reached the ground, shriveled and black like the ugly hatred gathering in your heart. 

The royal concubine spoke up, leaning forward. “What should we do with her, Your Excellency?”

“You can do whatever you want with her.” Sangyeon turned to look you straight in the eyes. “I never loved her anyway. She was just a toy, a mere plaything to me.”

It was the apathetic tone of his words that finally broke you. Saccharine eyes that once beheld you like you were his entire world, now harsh and bitter as they stared at you piercingly, stripping you of your dignity and strength, leaving you vulnerable. Like a dam barely holding up under the sheer pressure of the river, it broke, and all your emotions came pouring in. 

You stare at Sangyeon in shock, betrayal evident on your face. “Please tell me this isn't true. Sangyeon...please!” you beg, tears filling your eyes as your bottom lip quivers. “You love me right? You know I wouldn’t ever do this!” 

You felt pathetic and unwanted, kneeling at their feet as they looked on, clearly uninterested. Yet you were still in denial, hoping that Sangyeon would come to his senses miraculously and help you out of this mess. 

To your horror, he stares at you challengingly before pressing a kiss against Hwi-bin’s lips,  mirrored smirks on both their faces as Sangyeon turns to face you, without breaking eye contact. “Is that enough proof? Did you really think I truly loved you? It was all an act to unite your family with mine. You are such a fool, (Y/n).”

You lowered your head, vision blurring as you stared at the floor, tears cascading down your face and dripping onto the floorboards, creating a small puddle of sorrow and anguish, nothing compared to your fragile heart, shattered and left on display for all to see.  

The royal concubine cackles, adding to your humiliation and shame, burning bright on your cheeks. “I told you the crown prince would always choose Hwi-bin over you.” she crows triumphantly. “Guards, take her away to the dungeon. I’m sick of her dramatic display.”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you look up, tears falling freely, shining like crystals as you desperately try to seek out Sangyeon, but he’s already turned away, walking away with Hwi-bin by his side. Sangyeon looks at her lovingly, like she’s the only person that matters and your heart crumbles, knowing that he once looked at you like that too. Slumping, you let the guards roughly pull you to your feet, your head lolling to the side in defeat as they drag you towards your awaited fate.

»»————-　　————-««

You sat in the cell, legs tucked neatly underneath you, the rich material of your hanbok soiled beyond repair but you paid it no heed, eyes fixed on the iron bars that separated you from the rest of the castle. Your legs were aching from being pressed into the firm and coarse floor, the thin layer of filthy hay doing nothing to soften it. A chipped bowl of rice and water sat in front of you but it was untouched. 

Hearing footsteps echo on the stone of the floors, you straighten, chin raised in defiance. Did the royal concubine come to taunt you? Hwi-bin? Or was it time for torture? 

You blanch when you realize who's standing in front of you. The crown prince himself. For several heartbeats you stare at him, nothing but betrayal and sorrow on your features before they harden into a cold mask, your eyes betraying nothing. 

Seconds pass, bleeding into minutes. You grit your teeth, feeling like several agonizing hours had passed while Sangyeon stood there, merely observing you. Feeling the need to break the ice that was thickening between you, you opened your mouth. 

“Did you even care about me? Am I just a pawn to be used?” you asked, your voice oddly quiet as you stared at him with a terrifying calmness, like the calm before a great storm. Sangyeon watched you, his expression inscrutable as he clasped his hands behind his back. Your breath hitches as you remember the royal consort’s words.

“Besides, you’re just a willing pawn who will submit to her future king until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then, he’ll throw you away.”

You could almost hear her cackle, echoing in your head as if she already knew the result. “Have you ever seen me… as more than something to take advantage of?” you continue when he doesn’t respond and you finally break, the wall you had constructed finally cracking, nothing but remnants of it left. You dig your fingers into your palm, a familiar prickling sensation in your eyes as tears start to swell, your bottom lip quivering.

His words from yesterday resurface. “Did you really think I truly loved you? It was all an act to unite your family with mine. You are such a fool, (Y/n).”

Sangyeon still doesn’t say anything, his indifferent expression infuriating you. You felt like you were fighting a one-sided battle, as if you were struggling against the strong waves of the ocean that tugged insistently at you, dunking you under over and over again. 

"I was so naive...I thought I'd be able to compete with Hwi-bin but we were never on the same level, to begin with. She was your first, first love, first kiss, first everything. You prioritize her over me because she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Every single time, you'll continue to return back to her.” you laugh bitterly, fingers digging into your scalp, tugging roughly at the unbound strands of your hair. 

The image of love, of romance, was different now. Your relationship with him had started off shakily and although insecurity and doubt swallowed you, you let yourself look ahead, fix your eyes on the light that had appeared at the seemingly never-ending tunnel. It was hope. 

Love...could be compared to a rose in full bloom, lovely with its soft and vermilion petals swaying gently in the wind, carrying over its fragrant and enticing scent, luring you closer until your hands reached out to cup it in your hands, under the charm of its seemingly harmless beauty. The longer you allow yourself to fall underneath its charm, lingering feelings turned into tentative and fleeting kisses, then tangled in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings as the moon continues its steady climb in the sky. 

Now that it’s in your possession, you become greedy, wanting more. Your hands slide to its stem, maneuvering it so you can pick it. You’re so captivated that you don’t notice the thorns that gleam menacingly underneath the sunlight until it’s too late, the tender skin of your fingertips breaking as they sink into it, rivulets of scarlet blood cascading down. 

The spell crumbling, you regain your senses and you’re aware of the stinging pain of the wound, You snatch your hand away but the damage is already done. There are two choices: attempt to pick the rose again and let yourself succumb to the pain, numbing your senses as blood continues to trickle or discard it and let yourself heal. 

You had chosen the latter. Entering the imperial palace, you had firmly told yourself to not fall for love’s traps and tricks but here you were, like some kind of lovestruck fool, vying for Sangyeon’s affection. It was time to shut him out, deny him any entrance to your heart and instead, focus on getting back to your true home, five hundred years later. 

Immersed in your brooding thoughts, you don’t notice Sangyeon moving closer to you, the dirty hay shifting underneath his feet. “(Y/n).” he breathes and at the sound of his voice, your heart aches, longing to be in his arms, to be able to feel the smooth skin of his face beneath your palms. You glare at him, backing up to place more distance in between you, pushing the wistful thoughts away. They were like poison, able to muddy your thoughts and cause you to act differently. 

Despite your retreat and clear unwillingness, Sangyeon continues to advance until your back hits the rough and grimy wall of the prison cell. Before you can open your mouth to unleash the lengthy counter that you’ve been holding in, his lips are on yours. Involuntarily, you inhale sharply, a gasp that sounded noisy within the hushed cell, the sound swallowed by his mouth as your fingers instantly tangle themselves in his hair. The familiarity of his soft lips on yours causes electricity to tingle through your entire body and you felt euphoric like you were on cloud nine. 

Your hands fall to the side as Sangyeon presses you roughly against the wall, one hand supporting himself as he deepens the kiss, causing you to feel dizzy. Your knees weaken, turning into jelly as he nips at your lip, teasing it with a graze of his teeth. His free hand finds yours, clasping yours in his with a gentleness that contrasts with the unrelenting pressure of his mouth on yours. 

The kiss is searing, it burns away your worries and problems for the time being, the passion racing through your veins like a fire swallowing a forest. It melts away the ice freezing your heart and you let yourself submit to it and lay yourself bare, becoming vulnerable. 

You swear you feel Sangyeon pass something to you, the cool metal biting into the heated palm of your hand but all thoughts are gone as he parts, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your unoccupied hand curls into a fist and you know you shouldn't let yourself get carried away. 

After all, Sangyeon was the rose, he was dangerously charming, drawing you so close that your head spun, lessening your chances of returning back to your rightful home. 

Keeping the advice the nine-tailed fox told you in mind, your hand raises to press against his chest, firmly pushing him away and effectively dislodging his lips from yours. 

Sangyeon eyes you, your lips no doubt matching the swollen state of his. He leans in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Tomorrow at dawn, at the back gates." he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. Your eyes open and they flash with anger as your hand connects with his face and you ignore the stinging of your palm as you withdraw it. 

"Don't tell me what to do." you seethe, gaze locking with his. You glimpse the pink blossoming on the side of Sangyeon's face and you almost feel guilty but you remind yourself that this was all his fault. You had your own plans and you were not going to fail. 

Sangyeon has the audacity to smirk at you as his hand lifts to touch his cheek, eyes dark with desire but they soften when he notices how your hands clench, knuckles whitening. 

You don't look up but you can feel Sangyeon's lingering gaze. He turns on his heel and leaves, bringing the warmth with him, the cell turning back into a bleak gray. Although he's gone, you can still feel his presence.

You move to press the heels of your hands against your brow but the clang of something hitting the ground startles you. Whirling, you peer at the floor and amidst the hay, something gold winking up at you. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around it. A key…? Your eyes widen as you remember Sangyeon pressing something into your palm, flushing when you also remember how...preoccupied you were. 

You savour the feeling of the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of your skin as you play with it, your mind racing and calculating. The nine-tailed fox had told you that tomorrow at midnight, all eight major planets in the Solar System would align, which was a rare occurrence that would allow you to travel back to your time. 

During your short time here, you had already taken note of when the guards would rotate into different shifts. That would give you the time to escape to the bridge but with none to spare. If something went wrong...you shook your head. Now was not the time to dwell on if you would fail or not. Lifting your head, you stared at the crescent moon outside of the narrow gap in the wall that served as a window, watching the clouds drift by, blocking the moonlight momentarily.

You could only bide your time and wait.

You called sweetly out to the guard outside your cell, lifting a hand to beckon him closer to request paper and ink. For now, you’ll write a letter to say goodbye to Sangyeon. You felt hollow, dreading the final goodbye but it was inevitable. He belonged here and you belonged in your own time. 

»»————-　　————-««

You didn’t remember much of the next day. After sealing the letter to Sangyeon, you had somehow gotten the guard to cooperate and deliver it to him. All you could do was wait, legs cramping from kneeling on the floor the entire time. You hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep and you felt exhausted, but you were determined to not let the golden opportunity slip from your grasp.

You had spent the day watching the rotations of guards and you noted that the rotation was the same, as if you weren’t worth guarding. You scoff, scorn burning in your veins. You’d show them by escaping. They might have expected a meek girl who couldn’t do anything but merely watch with tears in her eyes and wait for her shining knight in armour to save her but you didn’t need a saviour. You would create your chance and leave this wretched place. 

The sound of heavy footsteps startling you, you recognize the familiar jangling of the keyring paired with off-key whistling, presumably from the nightguard. Shifting, you grip the brick in your hand. You had pried the loose brick from the wall, in hopes of wielding it as a weapon if you got caught. Drops of sweat slither down the back of your neck as you listen to the sound of footsteps recede as the guard hummed merrily, clearly in a good mood after finishing his shift. Knowing you didn’t have time to spare, you rummaged through the make-shift pouch for the key of the cell. Although you hated to ruin such beautiful silk, the long material hindered your movements and you had no choice but to tear it off, exposing your calves and providing freedom of movement. 

Heart pounding, you find the key, almost dropping it due to your clammy hands. Holding it between your clammy fingers, you allow a second to collect yourself before advancing to the door, reaching through the bars. Straining, you miss the keyhole a couple of times before it slips in. Twisting it, your ears perk up when you hear the click and it unlocks, swinging open with a creak. Venturing out, you pause, listening for any footsteps. 

Hearing none, you pad quietly out before settling into a sprint, making sure to tread lightly to avoid unwanted noise. Pressing against a wall, you hold your breath as you wait for the guard pass, narrowly escaping. It wouldn’t be long until someone noticed the cell was empty. The moment he’s gone, you peel yourself away, and dart into the woods, hurrying towards the bridge. 

You slow your pace the moment the bridge comes into sight, the river serene and calm as it winds through the countryside, moonlight causing the water to sparkle. Taking a moment to survey the surroundings for any unwanted intruders, you exhale heavily. Finally, you were only a step away from achieving your heart’s desire: returning to your rightful time. 

Yet…..why did your heart feel so heavy? 

Your brain and heart were in turmoil, disagreeing with what each had to say. While your brain argued that it was only correct to return, your heart begged tearfully to stay and you knew exactly what, no who, was still tying you to this wretched place, with its malicious dangers and traps disguised as sunshine and freedom: Sangyeon.

How many times had your heart leapt at the sight of him? At the mere sound of his name, of his voice? Despite his betrayal and change of heart, you still loved him and you held onto the tiny shred of hope, like the light at the end of a pitch-black tunnel, that he still loved you as well. After all, Sangyeon had presented you the opportunity to escape by giving you the key. 

You shook your head, clearing the treacherous thoughts that threatened to take over your logic. No, whether your heart agreed or not, whether you would eventually regret it or not, you had to return home. You shuddered, imagining spending another day in Joseon, without your family or any of your friends. 

Advancing towards the bridge, you watch your flickering shadow pass on the wooden planks, the wood creaking slightly in protest under your weight. Leaning on the railing, you gazed at the lone fish darting underneath lily pads, its scales silver underneath the moonlight. Raising your head, you squinted at the sky. As if in response, it glowed brighter and you watched, astounded, as the clouds broke apart and light shone through, like an angel was descending to Earth. 

It shined down upon you, and you basked in it, your eyes barely open due to the sheer glare of the light, joy flooded your face as you rejoiced, as you awaited your return. Looking down, you gasped when you realized that you were slowly disappearing, your hands shimmering ghostly and when you tried to grip the railing of the bridge, your hands passed through. You guessed it meant that the nine-tailed fox was correct, and that it would effectively bring you back to the future.

Pounding footsteps alert you of another presence and you whirl around, the strands of your hair dancing wildly in the breeze. Your eyes meet Sangyeon’s and your heart plummets, raising your hands shakily to keep him away from the light. You couldn’t risk him altering history and travelling to the future with you, even if it sounded tempting.

 “What are you doing here?” you shout, panic rising, shaking your head repeatedly as he tries to take a step closer. 

“Your letter.” Sangyeon stated simply, voice trembling, full of emotion, of denial, fear and sorrow, as his eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over. A letter is clenched in his fist, familiar handwriting scrawled hastily on the faded surface.

“You’re joking right? From the future? You can’t be serious…” he whispers, hope ablaze in his eyes as he stops in his tracks, and your heart cries out, singing for him, for his touch, for his warmth to surround you once again. 

You don’t respond, gazing at him solemnly and the hope fades, like the final rays of the sun before twilight takes over. Sangyeon’s shoulders sag, defeated. “This is goodbye then?”  

“You know, I always thought you were acting weird. The (Y/n) I knew was haughty, snobbish and power-hungry but you were nothing like what the rumours said. At this point, I’m not even surprised you’re from the future.” he laughs bitterly, running his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he starts pacing in tight circles, distraught. 

Glancing down at your body, you notice that you’re almost transparent, the light erasing you from this world that you were never supposed to even be in. “Sangyeon.” you call, ceasing his pacing as you beckon for him, longing to hold his face in your hands and take in his breathtaking beauty, shining so brightly that you were positive you would never forget, even when you were wrinkled and gray from age. 

“I love you.” you tell him sincerely, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks but they pass through, and Sangyeon’s eyes widen in alarm when you start fading. 

“Wait!” he screams, lunging towards you to hold you, to do anything to stop you from leaving, but you’re already disappearing, your face blurring as you smile at him, fighting back tears. Just as suddenly as it appears, the odd light disappears back into the clouds, like it was never there. Sangyeon expects you to still be standing there, to embrace him and grace him with that lovely smile but you’re gone. Sangyeon is left by himself, standing still on the bridge, the wind tousling his hair, each strand dancing individually as he slumps, heartbroken.

Suddenly, it was like the world was drained of its colours. The sky was no longer a hopeful image of promising love and dreams, instead a mocking gray filled with dull stars that didn’t sparkle as brightly like they did when he saw them with you. Collapsing on the bridge, he cries, tears falling freely as he hugs himself, chest heaving as he tries to breathe steadily, his whole body racking with the painful sobs that threaten to rip him apart, broken apologies and pleas falling from his trembling lips.

“I love you too.” 

He repeats the phrase over and over again, as if it alone, would bring you back to his side and fill the emptiness in his heart. 

This was never supposed to happen. 

»»————-　　————-««

“(Y/n). (Y/n!)”

Distantly, you hear a faraway voice, desperate and fearful, calling out to you. Regaining consciousness, your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar surroundings. Recognizing the corridor, you sigh, relieved. Turning your head, you notice your friend, kneeling at your side. 

“Are you alright?” she gasps, lifting your head gently to check for any wounds. When she finds none, she smiles faintly, glad, before her gaze travels down to examine your face. “Have you been crying?” she questions, bewildered.

Your eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, cheeks blotchy and she could see the remnants of tears dried on them. You ignore her question, heart aching again as you remember Sangyeon’s panicked and distraught face as he reached out to you, only to grasp empty air. You accept her helping hand, groaning when the world spins and you clutch onto your head, closing your eyes for a moment to stabilize yourself. 

You slowly walk out of the corridor, taking wobbly steps to reunite with your group. Your face lights up when you notice the familiar group of tourists, and you quicken your pace, ignoring your friend’s attempts of slowing you down. Gasping, you bump into someone’s back, almost throwing you off balance until you’re steadied by him, large hands supporting you. Looking up, the apology dies in your throat as you’re met with a familiar face.

Sangyeon?

Recognition floods you as your eyes rove over the slopes and angles of the male’s face.  He looked eerily similar to Sangyeon and you almost laughed at the coincidence. Life just kept on surprising you when you least expected it.

In front of you, the man apologizes and offers you a smile. “Have we met?” he questions, tilting his head, and your heart soars at the familiarity of it.

You hide your smile, looking down at your feet as memories surfaced, of kisses stolen in corridors and sweet nothings whispered at night, when Sangyeon had thought you were asleep.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m (Y/n).” you state, offering your hand.

“Sangyeon.” he grins, eyes crinkling adorably as he grips your hand, shaking it firmly and your cheeks involuntarily flush at the warmth of his hand enveloping yours.

Even if your love had happened almost 600 years ago, somehow life had bound you together again and you swore you saw a glimpse of the delicate red string that encircled your pinky, connecting yours with his before it disappeared. You listen to him talk, nodding along absentmindedly. Perhaps you were soulmates. 

At that, the clouds break apart, revealing the moon, illuminating the area, washing the stone in silvery tones, as if showing its approval. 

»»————-　　————-««

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[adam-memeleri]

Rainbow

Rosie’s always liked rainbows. Liked the beauty, the wonder, the ethereal, indescribable nature of the array of colours painted on the sky and clouds. She’s always liked the possibilities held within those colours, always liked what they meant, always liked the way the world seems to stand still when you find one after a storm, frozen for something so magical.

Hope reminds Rosie of rainbows.

-

okay so i actually really like this one and i think it shows. also thank you @bubblelaureno for proofing and fixing my feeble attempt at past tense you are so very lovely

tagging - @bubblelaureno @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored

if you wanna be tagged

Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao

T Rating (its mostly fluff, but there's sick if youre not cool with that)

Hope x MC (Rosie) or rope if youre chichi

~7k words this took an alarming amount of time to finally fucking finish, so take it for what it is

-

Like the sweater that blocked Rosie’s view of a lecture one morning, red. Like the tapping nails she couldn’t stop watching, red. Like the sensation of being mesmerized, hypnotized more deeply than when watching the sun slowly creep higher above the horizon, red.

Her eyes roved over the carefully organised materials - pens, notebook, laptop - all set in a specific place. She watched the nails halt their tapping, scribbling out notes in what she could only assume was perfect handwriting. She couldn’t imagine this girl doing anything less than perfect, less than meticulously planned, less than plain stunning.

Although her face was obscured, Rosie could picture the expression painted across it. Could picture a focus that could knock you down and heal your bruises all at once. And it intrigued her, left her wanting to see it for herself, and she angled her head to glimpse as much as she could.

The red sweater rose abruptly, just as Rosie was about to peek, and Rosie knew she should as well, knew that the drone of the professor had disappeared and she had another lecture not too soon, but she couldn’t manage it. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, her stupid desire to see if she was right about this girl.

The red sweater rose abruptly, just as Rosie was about to peek, and Rosie knew she should as well, knew that the drone of the professor had disappeared and she had another lecture not too soon, but she couldn’t manage it. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, her stupid desire to see if she was right about this girl.

She turned, her eyes landing on Rosie’s, and Rosie could have sworn her heart stopped. She was surprised more than anything, to find eyes boring into her own so fiercely, her eyebrows knitted together in momentary confusion. Before she whisked herself away, with a bag thrown over her shoulder and Rosie left behind, simply gawking after her.

After all coherent thought had left her mind, Rosie jumped to her feet and scrambled to collect her belongings, haphazardly she shoved them in her own bag and scooped them in her arms before darting out the room. She found that red sweater as it exited the building, nearly lost in the sea of students.

Elbowing her way through the crowd, Rosie managed to nearly catch up, stumbling a little ways behind as she called out, “Hey, wait up!”

The girl’s eyes searched over her shoulder before she slowed, peering over at Rosie curiously as she fell into step beside her.

“Sorry, I, uh…” Rosie fumbled over her words, gesturing awkwardly as she sought to clear the air, a blush staining her face. “I didn’t - That wasn’t - I wasn’t staring.”

The girl side-eyed Rosie, lips quirked in a tiny bemused smile at her feeble attempt. Her fingers toyed with a ring, spinning it around one finger in a steady rhythm as her free hand held the strap of her bag.

“Really! I wasn’t!” Rosie insisted uselessly.

Her grin grew as she hummed teasingly, “Mmhmm.”

“Look, just -” Rosie’s shoulders sank in a sigh, shaking her head in exasperation, but with a smile of her own. “I’m Rosie.” She tried, her voice having steadied.

The girl smiled invitingly, in the type of way that drew Rosie in, left her wanting more as dazzling eyes crinkled enticingly. “Hope,” her sweet voice rang, with all the power of a declaration but none of the demand.

Rosie nodded mutely, her braids shifting with each shake of her head. She opened her mouth to say smoothing, but, at a loss, she clamped her jaw shut.

Hope didn’t seem to mind, her eyes adjusting forward as they walked side by side, the gap between them like a canyon to Rosie. She swallowed, fixing the book under her arm, “So, uh, have you always been in that class?”

“Yes,” Hope nodded coolly, “Someone stole my usual seat today, though.”

“That… That sucks.” Rosie’s lips purse to the side as she nods along.

“Actually,” Hope’s voice drawled as she peered up at Rosie out of the corner of her eye. “I seem to recall there was an open seat beside you.”

“Oh! Yeah, I keep it open for a special someone,” Rosie’s lips quirked in a crooked grin, her typical playfulness finding its way back to her.

“And who would that be?”

Bolstered by Hope’s own teasing, she winked, her cheeks dimpled from her smile. “I’m hoping I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Maybe you will.” The pair fell into a companionable silence as they walked, neither a word exchanged or a beat of awkwardness filling the space. Rosie’s eyes roved distractedly, sneaking glances at Hope every chance she got and darting away when she got caught.

And every time Hope smiled to herself, and every time Rosie’s cheeks heated just a little more. It was quickly becoming a game, to see how long it took for Rosie to get caught, and with each glance she found herself hoping they'd continue the game on a later date.

Hope paused in her tracks suddenly, turning to face Rosie more fully as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “This is my stop,” she gestured to the lecture hall they were standing outside of, students filing inside. “It was nice to meet you, Rosie,” she grinned, stretching her hand out in offering.

Rosie’s own eagerly clasped it, shaking the offered hand perhaps too forcefully. “You too!” She promptly dropped Hope’s hand, a flush on the back of her neck as she shifted from foot to foot, gaze dropping to stare at the floor. “Um, see you next week?” she tried, glancing up from beneath her lashes.

“As long as you keep my seat available,” Hope teased easily, as if this was a common occurrence in her daily life. And Rosie supposed it may be, that maybe there’s always someone following her around with wide eyes like a lost puppy.

In response, Rosie nodded vehemently, mouth curved in a barely suppressed grin as Hope laughed lightly, already turning away. She stalked inside, head held high and shoulders thrown back with a confidence that can’t help but catch your eye and one that Rosie couldn’t tear her gaze away from.

Like the sweater that disappeared into the hall, red. Like the heart that berated Rosie’s ribcage, red. Like the lips pulled into an impossibly wide smile, as much as she fought it, red.

Orange

Like the socks that covered kicking feet, orange. Like the setting sun outside, the watercolour of clouds, orange. Like the pen that scrawled on paper, jotting down notes and doodling when the words wouldn’t come, orange.

“Pop quiz!” Hope announced, flourishing a card and adjusting upright. Open textbooks, loose papers, a discarded laptop, and a dozen markers litter the bedspread around her.

Rosie groaned, faceplanting into her notes and sending a multitude of colourful pens scattering. “You’re incorrigible!” she whined into the paper, her hand that had been previously writing limp by the notebook.

“You asked to study! I’m studying!” Hope defended with a slight laugh, motioning with the brightly coloured flashcards in her hands.

Rosie’s head flopped to the side, cheek pressed into still-damp orange inked scribbles. “Clearly by study I meant halfarse rereading notes so we had an excuse to hang out.”

Hope paused for a beat, scrutinising Rosie from across the bed. “You needed an excuse to hang out with me?”

“Would you have agreed otherwise?”

“No,” she slowly answered. “But that’s just because I needed to study.”

“There is not a doubt in my mind that you were the most extreme teacher’s pet,” Rosie teased, pushing upright just to slump backwards, elbows positioned to support her weight. “I can picture it now, little Hope avoiding recess to do menial tasks.”

With a wistful sigh, Hope abandoned her flashcards, leaning back herself. “Oh, those were the good ol’ days.”

“Nerd.”

Hope clicked her tongue, fond exasperation etched in her face and soaked into her posture. “Well,” she drawled, climbing off the bed and popping to her feet. “Since we’re already taking an impromptu break, I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared out the door, leaving it wide open and lightly swinging on its hinges. A heavy sigh melts Rosie’s muscles as she stretched out on the bed in her absence, legs nudging the multitude of study supplies surrounding her.

She glanced about, eyes bouncing around curiously at the array of objects held in Hope’s bedroom. From the vanity, to the assortment of bottles and items splayed atop the dresser, to the meticulously organized bookshelf of textbooks and fiction, it was as if Rosie was getting a glimpse into the girl.

And somehow she felt there was more to uncover than ever before. From the tattered jacket full of memories draped over a chair, to the photo frames littering every available surface, to the picture book given prime shelf space, there’s so much life in the room that she’d never even heard about.

Hope stepped back into the room before her imagination could run truly wild, juggling a water bottle dotted in flower stickers and a few oranges. She dumps them all on the bed, tossing one of the small oranges to Rosie.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, catching it lightly.

“Mmhmm,” Hope hummed out of reflex as she jumped up to the bed, kicking her legs over the edge and toying with the lid of her water bottle. “You know, I don’t get why you of all people are a business major,” she commented, glancing up as she takes a drink.

Rosie chuckled, picking at the stubborn peel and pulling off chunks. “What makes you say that?”

“You just seem… not… businesslike? I don’t know,” she groaned, dipping her head to hide her face as Rosie laughed beside her.

“I think I’m plenty businesslike.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s cheeto dust on the edge of your notes.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Rosie waggled her index finger, “Cheetos are made by a business, therefore, they are businesslike.”

Hope’s mouth curved in a grin, lips pressed together to try and stop it’s spread. “You should be an attorney instead.”

“Nah, it just wouldn’t be fair to the other lawyers,” Rosie’s tone was casual as she popped an orange slice in her mouth, speaking through it. “Like a pro athlete playing with a kiddie team.”

Hope snorted, her hand clapped up to her mouth as she fought a loud laugh. “You'd be a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, I’m sure.”

“I’m telling you, I’d be unstoppable. Just sue everyone else before they can sue me!”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Well, you’re not a lawyer, are you?”

Hope’s hands raised placatingly, but the smile on her face was evident of her amusement. “Alright, alright you win.”

“What’s my prize?”

Hope’s face scrunched up as she considered, one nail rising to tap at her chin. “What do you want?” she finally responded.

“To not study.”

“Alright, I get it.” She closed the textbook she had been reading from and tossed it onto a nearby desk chair, sitting straight and peering about for a distraction. “You want to watch something instead?”

“Yes! No books! No words! No unreadable handwriting!” Rosie cheered, shoving her own notebooks and laptop across the bedspread in a dramatic show.

“That’s your handwriting that you can’t read.”

“Exactly!” her hands waved, eyes wild before her palms slapped down onto the duvet, “Do you see how mad this has driven me?”

Hope rolled her eyes, tossing a pale orange blanket over Rosie to quiet her, “Every day you get more over the top.”

Snickering, Rosie pulled the blanket off her head and scooted backwards until she hit the headboard. “Stick around and maybe you’ll find my limit.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Hope joined her on the bed, tugging her laptop to rest before them. “Now here, since you’re sticking around too, let’s watch something.”

She started scrolling through a streaming service, clicking on random descriptions but never staying long enough for Rosie to catch up. She moved fast, but with more purpose than anyone Rosie had ever met. Every sharp action was backed by a precise thought, every decisive selection marked by careful consideration.

She finally clicked on some random sitcom, beginning to settle against the headrest and Rosie’s side. The blanket only exacerbated the heat between them, and Rosie found herself spending more time attempting glimpses of Rosie than she spent watching the show.

Like the scattered peels and smudged ink of abandoned pens, orange. Like the blanket draped over their laps, orange. Like the sensation of sunlight blasting away all your worries, orange.

Yellow

Like the sunshine on Hope’s skin as they laughed in the park, hours disappearing under the sun, yellow. Like the water bottles filled with too-sweet lemonade, yellow. Like the checkered blanket they lay on, sprawled across it and speaking softly beneath the sky, yellow.

“Ooh, look at that one!” Hope pointed at the sky, index finger outstretched toward a cloud floating in the distance. It was filled with them, the white blending with pale blue as they floated above the world, unbothered by the affairs of the ground.

Rosie’s eyes scanned futilely, following Hope’s finger to the expansive sky, “Where?”

“There!”

“Hope,” Rosie laughed, a lightness in her heart, “there’s like a hundred clouds, I need specifics.”

With a sigh, Hope’s hand wrapped around Rosie’s, their fingers tangled together as she gestured above and to the left. She angled Rosie’s finger, slipping closer on the picnic blanket to direct her line of sight. “That one,” her voice was quieter as she squeezed the hand in hers.

The breath left Rosie’s lungs at their proximity, at the gentleness always present in Hope’s voice, but especially so now. She tore her gaze from the warmth in Hope’s cheeks to search the sky, finally finding the shaped cloud. “A heart?”

“Mmhmm,” Hope hummed, squeezing her hand once more.

“Cute.”

“I know, right?” Hope turned briefly, her face still set in a bright grin before she was back to staring at the sky and all it held within it.

But Rosie wasn’t paying attention to the sky anymore, she hadn’t been for a while. Her eyes were glued to the smile on Hope’s face, the way her eyes flitted from cloud to cloud, the way her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, the way she refused to release Rosie’s hand.

“Do you come here often?” she supplied to fill the silence, breaking a tension only she may have felt.

Hope’s gaze flicked back to her, sparkled with amusement.“Is that a line?”

“Just making conversation.”

Hope chuckled beneath her breath, turning back to the puffs in the painted sky. “Not really. Used to when I was younger, but you know… Classes, work, responsibilities… They don’t really leave time for an afternoon of watching clouds float past.”

“Do you wish you could do this more?”

“Always.”

“Then I’m glad I could help, even just a little,” Rosie grinned, easy and relaxed as she nudged Hope’s shoulder with her own.

“Me too.”

Rosie settled back, letting the blues and whites and greys and yellows of the day fill her eyesight, a collision of pastel colours before her dark eyes. Occasionally, Hope’s hand would brush her own, or her elbow would nudge Rosie as she shifted, and every time it was like a shot of sunshine right into her veins, stronger than pure adrenaline.

“It’s getting kind of dark,” Hope mumbled after a long stretch of silence, a quiet only disrupted by the occasional murmur.

Rosie’s lashes had fluttered shut, the soft breeze and noise of the park enough to lose herself in. “The forecast said no rain,” she answered, followed by a groan as she stretched her limbs on the checkered blanket.

“You sure?”

Rosie shrugged, “That’s what the weather girl said.”

“Which weather girl?”

“That annoying one, Blaire or something.”

“You trust the annoying weather girl?”

“I trust science,” Rosie retorted. “Also that Swedish news anchor. He trusts her, and I trust him. He’s very trustworthy, I’ll have you know,” she elbowed Hope to accentuate her point.

Hope sighed, reluctantly mumbling out an agreement, “Alright.”

Everything stilled once more, their little corner of the park unbothered by the rest of the whirring world. Rosie’s arm rose to cover her face and block out the lessening sunlight, the day seeming to have spent both her energy and the available sunlight.

A drop pinged Rosie’s forearm as it lay overtop her face, a prick on her skin. Then another. And another. Until raindrops began to soak her skin, her clothes, the blanket that was beneath her and Hope.

“Shit!” Rosie sprung to her feet blindly, scrambling as the onslaught of water kept coming, and coming.

Hope was in a struggle to get to her feet as well, grabbing wildly at discarded water bottles, phones, a jacket - whatever lay in her reach. “Get the stuff! Get the stuff!”

“I am, I am!” Rosie grabbed the checkered blanket, shoved it into the backpack she had brought along as Hope piled up the little containers of snacks.

Digging in her own bag, Hope blinked up at Rosie in a brief panic, “Hurry!”

“Would you -?” Rosie swatted at her with the edge of the blanket, her words dying as she dissolved into laughter.

“Rosie!” she chided, waving away the swat as she finally found what she was looking for. She stood straight, shrugging her bag over her shoulder and fiddling with the object she pulled from it.

“C’mon!” the taller woman laughed, “This is funny! We get one afternoon to ourselves and it literally rains on our parade!” she gestured around, spinning to encompass the whole park in the motion, every drop of rain spilling down on it. “That’s funny!”

Hope’s lips pressed together in a smile as she stepped forward, opening an umbrella and bringing it up to cover their heads. The bright yellow fabric echoed with each falling drop, but it was enough to prevent their soaked clothing from worsening.

“A little late for that,” Rosie chuckled from within her chest, heaving her hefty bag up her shoulder.

“Better late than never.” Hope paused, pursing her lips to the side as her free hand rose, brushing off a piece of wet grass from Rosie’s chest. Her touch lingered, the heel of her hand resting lightly.

“Hmm?” Rosie questioned wordlessly.

Hope’s fingers tightened in the front of her shirt, determination sparking in her eyes. “You want to go out sometime? For coffee, or lunch, or dinner?”

“I thought we already did that?” Rosie teased with a small smile.

“We do… But I was thinking it’d be a little different this time.” Hope’s eyes shimmered as they met Rosie’s from beneath heavy lashes, rain still shining like diamonds on them, on every part of her face.

Rosie smiled at the suggestive tone of the words, her expression so wide and bright, brighter than the umbrella held over their heads. “That sounds nice,” she feigned a casualty that wasn’t there, the smile lines around her mouth a dead giveaway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, wet hair framing her face.

Hope’s face broke out in a smile to match Rosie’s, unrestrained under the transparent yellow umbrella over their heads. “Come on, then,” her hand slipped into the other girl’s, and she tugged Rosie towards a nearby awning, hands swinging lightly between them.

Like the shirt plastered to Rosie’s skin, soaked and damp, yellow. Like the umbrella that sheltered them from the storm, a brilliant, shining safety net, yellow. Like the happiness in her chest, bubbling and pounding inside her, yellow.

Green

Like the smile on Hope’s lips, as lively as a budding flower, green. Like the backdrop behind her, the painted walls and masses of house plants, green. Like the nausea that swirled in Rosie’s gut, foul and unsettling, green.

She lurched forward, stumbling to her feet before she darted across the flat towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut just as she collapsed to her knees. She retched, fingers gripping the edge of the toilet as bile stung at her throat.

With a moan, she slumped against the seat, eyes fluttered shut as a pounding in her head drowned out most of the flat. The brief ordeal weighed down her limbs, left her exhausted and drained on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, Rosie?” broke through her haze, a gentle question from the other side of the door.

She sighed, groaning out a “Hmm?”

“You okay in there?”

“Just peachy,” she chuckled weakly.

There was a brief pause before Hope’s voice returned, hesitant but laced with a caring that warmed Rosie’s heart, cleared her head momentarily. “I’m going to come in,” she announced, the knob twisting.

Rosie groaned once more in response, slumped against the toilet with her hair spilled over her shoulder in a messy flow. Her shirt now hung off her body awkwardly, a thin sweat having begun to coat her skin.

A cautious hand found her shoulder, squeezing lightly as Hope settled beside her, careful not to jostle her. “Are you sick?” her fingers delicately brushed over Rosie’s face as she spoke, tucking a stray braid behind her ear, her thumb running lightly over her cheek.

“No, I’m healthy as a horse, that’s why I’m voluntarily sitting with my face in the toilet,” Rosie bit back, more heat in the tone than ever before.

Hope huffed, her hand retracting from Rosie’s face and the taller woman immediately regretting the harshness of her previous words. “Quit with that for a second, would you?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning to press her cheek in the crook of her elbow.

“It’s okay, just…” a sigh drooped Hope’s shoulders as she softly pressed the back of her hand to Rosie’s forehead. “What happened? Did you eat something bad? Were you sick earlier?” Her hand brushed over Rosie’s face repeatedly until she was swatted away.

“I don’t know,” Rosie brushed her off, pushing upright and slumping forward. “I was fine, I swear.”

“Do you need anything?” the smaller of the two continued to fuss, eyes searching for a visible cause of the crease between Rosie’s brows. “Oh - I’ll get water, I’ll go -” She awkwardly jumped up, bouncing back and forth on her feet in uncertainty for the girl on the floor before darting out the door.

She returned a few moments later, dropping back to the tile floor with a bottle of water and damp washcloth in her hands. “Rinse,” she instructed gently, pressing the bottle into Rosie’s grasp.

And she did as told, taking a swig and swishing it around her mouth before she spat into the toilet bowl. She repeated it a few more times before she scooted away, her thigh brushing Hope’s as her head dropped to Hope’s shoulder.

With her palm softly tracing Rosie’s spine, Hope didn’t dare move for a long moment. “You okay there?” she whispered, exhale brushing along Rosie’s forehead.

“Except for the spinning…” her head rolled in a tiny circle gesture, “everything, yes.”

“Can you stand?” Hope shifted onto her knees, still supporting Rosie’s weight carefully.

“I vomited, I didn’t break a leg.”

“What did I say about the sarcasm?” she sighed, “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” a groan fell from Rosie’s mouth, from deep in her throat as she slumped forward, head landing in her hands. “And I’m being an arse. Yes, I can stand.” She finally opened her eyes, looking up at Hope with a strained gaze.

Hope stood fully, offering her hands with a wiggle of her fingers, “Come on, then,” she urged.

Rosie moaned again, but placed her palms on Hope’s all the same. She let herself be gently tugged to her feet and led back into the living room of Hope’s flat, let herself be pushed into sitting back down and laying back, her eyelids fluttering shut.

Hope’s palm on her shoulder was a steady weight, a warmth soaking through to her skin. “Stay put,” and all too soon that weight disappeared as Hope stepped away from the sofa.

“Can I just go home?” Rosie asked, knowing full well she would never be granted permission to leave when she could barely keep her eyes open.

“No, you live alone,” Hope called over her shoulder, striding in the direction of the kitchen. “If you leave I can’t take care of you.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re right. Babies don’t complain as much.”

“Are you saying you’d trade me for a baby?”

“Oh, never. You don’t have snot running down your face at the very least,” her voice echoed from the kitchen, familiar and playful in Rosie’s ears. “...If I come in there and there’s snot -!”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Rosie!” Hope’s chiding voice rang from the kitchen, alongside a loud, panicked clatter, which only served to provide Rosie with a brief laughing fit.

“I’d never,” her laughter died, replaced by an amused smile grounded in the comfort of the situation. “I think you’d break my nose before I got the chance.”

“Don’t even think about it and you’ll never have to find out.”

“Mmm,” Rosie hummed in acknowledgment, sinking further into the cushions of the sofa as Hope’s pleasant voice occasionally called out to her, alongside clatters and thuds.

Her lashes flickered open, blinking to clear the fleeting sleep from them as Hope stood over her, hands on her hips. “I was trying to make you soup, but you’re going right to bed.”

“I don’t live here,” she murmured without a thought, the imposing woman above her having stripped her of them.

“I know. Now, up.”

Hope pulled her to her feet again, let Rosie lean her bodyweight against her in her sick and sleepy haze as she was guided to Hope’s bedroom and directed to the bed. Hope yanked back the neatly made duvet, allowing Rosie to slip beneath it.

The bed dipped as Hope joined her on the edge, tracing her nail over her scalp, the hinge of her jaw, the length of her neck. Over, and over again, until the sleep that weighed Rosie down stole her again, until she could only manage a mumbled, “Thank you.”

Like the soft explosion of colour on her shut eyelids, flowing in whatever direction the light is pulled in, green. Like the doting nails as they ghosted along her skin, sweet and full of love, green. Like the peace now swirling in her once foul gut, green.

Blue

Like the rain falling from the dark clouds outside, blue. Like the melancholy that permeated the air as Rosie opened the door, blue. Like the tears in the corners of Hope’s eyes as she fought against the pressure behind them, blue.

Hope shouldered her way into the flat and into the living room, dropping herself onto the sofa before she sucked in a deep breath. “You can’t move,” her voice cracked as it escaped from her, each syllable heavy with sorrow.

Crossing the room, Rosie collapsed beside her, gaze stuck to her hands as she felt Hope’s bored into the side of her face. “Why not?” she mumbled beneath her breath, one nail picking the woven bracelet resting on her wrist.

“‘Cause I’ll miss you.”

She sighed heavily, twitching beneath Hope’s piercing eyes. “I’ll miss you too, but I kinda have to,” she shrugged, everything feeling useless in the moment. Everything had felt useless since that morning, since she had first told Hope and they had first begun this odd dance.

“It’s not the same.”

“Sure it is.”

“No, no it’s not,” Hope insisted, a spark in her voice as her own hands fidgeted wildly, unease seeping in every corner of the flat. “You’ll - You’ll be doing your thing, without me there, and I’ll be doing my thing without you here, and we’ll be in our little worlds and won’t - won’t realise until it’s too late and we… you know.” She fell off at the end, her bottom lip slipping between her teeth to worry it.

“Hope,” Rosie sighed, a hand dragging down her face, “We’re not gonna break up.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How? How can you possibly know what’ll happen if you leave?” Hope’s features crumpled, deep creases marking worry lines.

“Hope…”

“Rosie, look at me.” She took Rosie’s hands, thumbs nervously circling her knuckles as her eyes poured into the dark irises across from her. “I know you, and I know me. I know I’m not good at being apart, and I know you get caught up in the moment. I adore that about you, I really do, but it’s also the most annoying thing imaginable.”

“Wha - Hey!” A surprised laugh bubbled out of Rosie, a bright smile gracing her features for the first time in the night.

“See?” A small smile illuminated Hope’s own expression, “Now you can’t go ‘cause you have to stay to get back at me.” The smile dissipated, replaced by a tight grip on Rosie’s hands. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to. Seriously,” Rosie squeezed back. “My mum… she needs me back home right now.”

Hope sagged, disheartened, letting her forehead bump into Rosie’s shoulder. “You’re too stubborn.”

Rosie snorted, “Says you. You showed up at my door at three in the morning.” Her arm wrapped around Hope without a thought, unconsciously urging her closer.

“I’m not stubborn, I’m romantic.”

“Yeah?” a chuckle vibrated throughout Rosie’s chest, “Then romance me.”

Hope visibly brightened, turning her head to smile into Rosie’s neck. “I’ll buy you roses tomorrow. Roses for my Rose,” she giggled radiantly.

“Cute,” Rosie hummed, her palm circling along her partner’s back.

“I thought so,” she preened.

Rosie inhaled deeply, rolling her neck to crack it before she fell backward suddenly. She held out her hands, making a grabbing motion at a slightly confused Hope. “C’mere,” waved relentlessly, until Hope gave in with a grin.

She shuffled forward, collapsing atop Rosie with a contented sigh, her head on the taller woman’s chest, right above her softly beating heart. She dragged her fingers up and down Rosie’s ribs, every breath of Hope’s a whisper along her skin.

“I didn’t think you ever wanted to leave London anyhow?” she exhaled after they settled, inquiring with nudge to Rosie’s chin.

“I didn’t. Not for forever, at least.”

“So you’ll come back to me?”

Rosie stalled, avoiding eye contact as she stared up at the ceiling. “...At some point.”

A frown dipped Hope’s lips almost instantaneously, “I don’t like the sound of that. That sounds like - like…” she struggled for words, her features pinched. “Like a goodbye with extra steps.”

“Nope,” Rosie’s head shook adamantly, finally meeting Hope’s gaze with a resolve in her own. “We’re not saying goodbye, I promise you that.”

That quieted Hope, her lashes fluttered shut as her hand on Rosie’s abdomen stilled. The flat went still as well, undisturbed in the late hour as light, nimble fingers traced a circle around her hip.

“What if I went with you?” Hope’s voice cracked the silence in half, shattering it like glass and simultaneously freezing it deeper into her bones.

There was no response, and she glanced up to find Rosie gawking, blinking upwards in surprise. Her jaw hung open, mouth working to form words that won’t come, no matter how hard she may try. Finally, her voice squeaked out, breathless with her disbelief, “You’d… move cities… for me?”

“Yes,” Hope answered in a heartbeat, not a second of hesitation.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

At that Rosie exploded back to life, her crooked grin lifting her lips. “Nuh-uh, you gotta say it,” she teased, her eyes burning with excitement.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Hope laughed, fond exasperation filling her as she shook her head.

“Say it,” Rosie urged, pestering Hope with pokes to her sides. “Say it, say it, say it.”

“The worst!” A full laugh spilled from her lips, and Rosie pressed for more and more of it, the sound addictive to her. Hope freed herself from Rosie’s grasp, from her playful jabs, and kneeled above her, taking her face in her hands.

Hope’s thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, caress delicate and soothing. “I love you and don’t want to be without you, okay?” she whispered into the space between them, a clash of brilliant eyes alighting the gap like metal sparking.

“I love you too,” she murmured back, rising to peck Hope on the nose before she settled back down. “But you don’t have to move.”

“But I want to.”

“Hope…”

“Rosie…”

Rosie shook her head, incredulous at the persistence staring her down. “You’re going to change your mind in the morning,” she warned carefully.

“I won’t.”

“And how could you know that? How could you possibly know that?” Rosie teased, repeating Hope’s previous words.

“How many times do I have to tell you I love you for you to get it?”

“I won’t complain if you say it a few more times,” Rosie joked, languidly relaxed as she danced her fingers along Hope’s skin wherever she could reach, noting the twist in the dance between them. It was as if they stuck the landing, poised and graceful, rather than on their arse like they had been earlier in the day.

“So it’s settled, then?” Hope livened, “I’m coming with you?”

Mumbling under her breath, Rosie rolled her eyes, “Incorrigible…”

The shorter woman stretched out, her body overlapping with Rosie’s as she buried herself in her side. “I’m coming whether you agree or not, you can just make this easier for the both of us.”

“Fine,” Rosie grumbled. “If you really, truly, absolutely want to move to Margate with me, I don’t think I can do much to stop you.”

“Damn right you can’t.”

Like the cushions their bodies have melted into together, blue. Like the rain streaked down window panes right outside, blue. Like the waves of calm rolling through the flat, a gentle rhythm to match their exhales as they were carefully lulled to sleep, blue.

Purple

Like the cardigan wrapped around her body, the slightest amount too big, purple. Like the sandals padding along sand, feet running down the length of the beach, purple. Like the sky as the sun sets on the horizon, fading watercolours painted across the clouds, purple.

“Slow down, slow down!” Hope lamely chased after Rosie on the beach, her shoes sinking into the sand with each step.

“Not my fault you wore heels,” Rosie called over her shoulder, walking quickly down the shoreline as she tugged her cardigan closer to her body. A breeze swept over the waves, cold grazing her skin.

Hope’s bottom lip popped out in a pout, her legs working to free the sharp heels stuck in sand. “I was trying to look nice for date night.”

“You always look nice, you don’t need heels.”

“Aw,” Hope cooed, grinning at the taller woman. “Wait, seriously, stop,” she forced Rosie to retrace a few steps, her hand gripped in Rosie’s sleeve for balancing. She bounced on one foot as she tugged her heels off one by one, burying her toes in the smooth sand when they were freed. “Okay, now you get to hold them,” Hope smiled, jutting her arm out as the shoes dangled from her fingers.

“What? Why me?”

“You brought me here, it’s your fault I can’t walk anymore.” Hope swung the shoes, imploring them to be taken from her grasp.

“I brought you here to be romantic and you’ve spent the whole time complaining about your feet,” Rosie grumbled, but despite her protests, she took the outstretched shoes in one hand and offered Hope her other, tugging her along as soon as their palms met.

With her feet bare, Hope matched pace, sidling up to Rosie’s side and linking their arms. “Thank you, by the way,” she sighed softly, her cheek pressing to the woven fabric of Rosie’s cardigan. “It’s gorgeous out here.”

Rosie grinned cheekily, her chest puffed out for a joke, “Not as -”

“Gorgeous as me?” Hope interjected, head tilted as she peered up bemusedly.

“I was going to say the heels, but you too.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating you,” Hope groaned, burying her face further in pale purple fabric.

“Yeah, that was a really bad call on your part,” Rosie laughed loudly, squeezing the arm looped in hers tightly.

“I guess you have some good moments. Like when you buy me flowers, or take me to dinner on my night off, or bring me to the beach,” Hope emphasised her point by kicking up a small cloud of sand. “And that was only tonight. Are you up to something?” she joked, squinting up in faux suspicion.

Rosie avoided her gaze, turning to the horizon and softly setting sun instead. It’s rays stretched as far as the eye can see, basking the world in brilliant colour and reflecting off the rolling waves of the sea.

Hope’s jaw fell open, eyes scanning Rosie for any semblance of an answer, “Oh my god, you are. What is it? What’s this all about?”

With a halfhearted shrug, Rosie feigned nonchalance, “Just… setting the mood.”

Hope planted her feet, burying her toes in the sand and pulled on her partner’s sleeve as she continued walking, yanking her back. “Tell me or I’m not moving.”

“I had this whole thing planned, and now you’re trying to blackmail me into spoiling it?” Rosie chuckled, letting herself be reeled in by her baggy sleeve.

“Yep. Now tell me.”

A sigh broke from Rosie’s lips, “And you always called me stubborn. Okay, just -” she shook out her shoulders, rolling her neck. “Give me a minute, I thought I’d have more time.”

With a slight frown, Hope crossed her arms over her chest, but she obliged nevertheless. She watched Rosie drop the heels in her hand and fidget restlessly, fingers adjusting her cardigan, her dress, her hair. Until they slipped into her purse, digging around for a brief second before drawing out a small box.

It’s rolled in Rosie’s palms, her hands never stilling as long as it's in her grasp. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “The day I met you was… honestly, it was pretty embarrassing,” Rosie grinned, as crooked as ever. “But you didn’t hold it against me. And… that’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Probably?” Hope’s eyebrow quirked, her hip jutting out to the side in objection.

The taller woman glared up from beneath her long lashes, “You want the heartfelt speech or not?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Hope’s hands waved placatingly. “Please, continue.”

“Right, okay,” Rosie nodded, rebuilding her courage. “You are more than I ever expected and more special than I first thought. Every day I’ve known you has been better than the last, and it’s like - like brighter? Like everything’s just more colourful now, and I don’t know what you did, but I love you for it,” she grinned, bashful for once, with a blush dusting her cheeks.

“And I know this is a long time coming, but better late than never right?” she chuckled softly beneath her breath, eyes trained on the sand as the flush in her cheeks grew. “So I just have to ask, if after everything, you’d be willing to stick around and keep making everything brighter?”

Tears glittered in Hope’s eyes, a shine coating them as she sucked in a trembling breath. Her fingers carefully covered Rosie’s, a thumb traced the small rock embedded in the ring as she watched it shine in the low light.

Rosie shifted from foot to foot, staring down at the ring with a miniscule frown. “It’s not much, but…”

“It’s perfect,” Hope cut her off before she could finish, voice as sweet as ever. “Perfect,” she repeated as she gently took it from Rosie’s hands, slipping it on her finger. She turned it over carefully, movements as graceful as ever to Rosie’s peering gaze.

Abruptly, Hope’s arms curled around her waist, face burying in her shoulder. Rosie reciprocated without a thought, squeezing tight. “You know, I think I need an answer,” she breathed into Hope’s skin, lips slowly split into a smile.

“Oh!” Hope darted backwards, hands aimlessly fumbling until they landed on Rosie’s jaw, cupping her face warmly. “Yes! God, yes. I’m - I’m here to stay,” she beamed. “Always.”

Rosie’s forehead bumped against Hope’s, arms wound around her torso. “I told you no goodbyes, didn’t I?”

“You are ever true to your word,” she tapped the side of Rosie’s nose teasingly before retracting, rubbing her arms to warm them. “Come on, let’s go; I’m freezing out here,” she bounced on her feet expectantly.

“Yeah, the beach was more romantic in my head,” Rosie chuckled, tugging her cardigan off her body to drape it over Hope’s shoulders.

Taking the gifted cardigan, Hope turned on her heel, leading the way from the chilling breeze sweeping over the sea. She hooked her arm through Rosie’s once again as they walked in silence, a comfortable silence. It’s carried along the breeze, relaxed as the lapping waves that grow more and more distant.

“I still appreciate it,” Hope commented as they came to a stop by their car, folding her arms as she leaned against it, lavender wool dripping from her arms.

“The beach or the ring?”

“I can appreciate both.

Rosie laughed brightly, hooking an arm around Hope’s waist to draw her in. Her smile softened, from a burning wildfire to a fireplace, there to keep you warm and safe more than anything. Hope’s arms snaked around her neck in response, their bodies melding in a way that was more natural to them than breathing.

“Look at you,” Rosie whispered in private awe, her breath ghosted along Hope’s lips as one nail traced the curves shaping them.

Hope’s own smile was serene, full of her own hominess, “What do you see?”

With her gaze filled with nothing but the face before her, tracing over every bump and dip in skin, every line and colour in gleaming irises, she breathed, “Everything.”

Like the deep of the creeping night, stars glittering within the gradient of the sky, purple. Like the future laid out before them, infinite possibilities but an amethyst sitting at the centre of it all, purple. Like the feeling of contentment, peace swirling in the pit of your stomach, purple.

#ignore that this isn't roy g big lmao #i couldn't be bothered to do the accurate version #litg fanfic #litg hope #hope x mc #rosie mwendwa #hdn #idk how to tag #but thats nothing new #i had fun with the tumble text colours lmao #also i feel like i’m really bad at writing hope but i’m just gonna roll with it

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Wed By Candlelight (The Portrait of the Secret Bride)

Supercorp/The Corpse Bride AU

Kara inherits the old ancestral house in Argo when she turns twenty-eight. 

She’s never been there before, never even heard about it -- until she learns about the provision in Alura’s will two weeks after she announces her engagement to Mon-El, and the crusty old executor of her mother’s estate tells Kara that the house is hers, should she want it.

But only if she gets married there, like Alura and all the women in her mother’s family were.

Two weeks into planning the wedding at the elegant old house, surrounded by family and friends who are rushing about to get everything ready for her special day, Kara’s still not sure she made the right decision. 

She’s always been curious about her mother’s family. Even when Alura was still alive, before she was adopted by the Danvers family, Kara never heard much about the Inze family. She knows vaguely that they were well-to-do, but since they moved to Metropolis when Kara was a baby, she never had much of a connection to Argo. Even less when her parents died, and she’d had to move to Midvale.

It’s a beautiful house, Kara thinks. Elegant furnishings, exquisite moldings, and vast open windows to let in the light. It’s warm and open and inviting. She couldn’t have found a more perfect venue for her wedding, even in National City. No wonder the women in her mother’s family always chose to get married here.

But apparently, this wasn’t the only tradition her mother had neglected to share before her death. The antique necklace now hiding in Kara’s pocket is apparently another heirloom Kara has never heard of -- passed down from bride to bride in the Inze family in a generations-old tradition that started almost two hundred years ago. Eliza had suggested that she make it her “something old” at her wedding. 

The wedding that she isn’t even sure about.

It’s not that she doesn’t love Mon-El. They’ve been together for years. It’s just that.... things aren’t always so peachy between them. And marriage, well, marriage is so permanent. At least it is for Kara.

And for her parents too. It’s been so long, and while it hurts a little to think about them, one thing she always remembers about Alura and Zor El is that they were so in love. They filled their home, and Kara’s life with their love for each other, and their love for her. Married for fifteen years, and they were devoted to each other until their last breath.

Is that what she and Mon-El really have?

And all of these new things that have been shoved at her since finding out about her mother’s family. Looking through this house that is somehow disconnected, yet a part of her, seeing the legacy that her family left behind.... It feels a little  like she's cheapening it by going through with a marriage to someone she can only get along with for short periods of time before everything inevitably devolves into an argument.

Kara goes for a walk to clear her head. She’s been doing this a lot lately, and a small part of her feels that if she walks far enough, she can leave this whole mess behind.

There’s a trail she’s been following for the past week that she’s found she likes a lot. It’s deserted and a little overgrown, but there’s a sort of tranquility to it as she walks slowly, dried leaves crunching under her boots.

She’d found the graveyard last week, and she’s been going there every day. It's really old, the tombstones are nearly crumbling with age, and there's something..... melancholic about the place. Something sad.

But Kara doesn’t mind. She feels a strange sort of calm here. It's quiet here, no one's fussing over Kara about venues and flowers and seating charts that she really couldn't care less about.

She walks over to her favorite grave, an old tombstone she’d found when she first got there, covered with vines and leaves until Kara had brushed them off and found the name ‘Lena Luthor’ carved into the crumbling, weathered stone. 

She’s visited the site ever since, feeling that vague sense of melancholy again. This person had died almost two hundred years ago. Whoever this Lena Luthor was, she was the same age when she died as Kara is now. For some reason, that makes her inexplicably sad.

Today, she comes bearing a few flowers from the arrangement Eliza had been draping over the church pews. Kara had been planning to place them at the old grave, to brighten things up a bit. 

But before she can approach the familiar tombstone, she hears a quiet sobbing sound. She sees a pale figure kneeling beside the grave, and at first, Kara thinks she's a mourner. Though why another person would be there mourning someone who had passed two hundred years ago, Kara doesn't know --disregarding the fact that that's what she’s been doing every day for the past week.

“Hello?” Kara keeps her voice quiet to avoid spooking this other mourner. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll leave you to it, but I just wanted to make sure -- are you okay?”

The sobbing stops as Kara comes closer, and the pale figure rises. And Kara's jaw drops, as the light reveals that the pale figure is actually a woman -- a very stunning, ethereally beautiful woman.... who is dressed in a bloodstained wedding dress.

What the fuck?

And not just a little bit of blood. The whole front of the dress has been dyed red with blood. And Kara can see where her dress has been slashed open to expose torn, jagged flesh, and Kara gags a little bit.

Before Kara can cry out -- in confusion? Fear? Panic? Before she can even think to make sure that the other woman is okay -- there's no way she is, not with that much blood on her dress -- the other woman turns, and her eyes fix on Kara's, piercing her where she stands. 

A slender hand reaches out, fingers trembling, and pearl-like tears slip down her pale cheeks. 

"Kara...?”  Her voice is soft and tremulous, and Kara is frozen, watching her trembling, bloody hand reach out to touch her face. 

It never does. Kara can see those fingers brushing her face, but she feels nothing. As if the woman in front of her isn’t real. “You’ve come back to me....”

The shock of it breaks the spell. Kara stumbles in her haste to back away from those bloody, outstretched fingers. The other woman steps forward, murmuring her name again, and Kara finally manages to make her legs work. She scrambles to her feet and runs away, nearly missing the trail in her fright.

In her haste, she drops the white flowers she’d brought and crushes them into the dirt with her boot.

_________

When Kara gets back to the house, she tells no one about what happened.

That was... that was just a crazy hallucination, brought on by all the stress of wedding planning and inheritance laws and every crazy little thing she’s been through the past two weeks.

When Mon-El asks where she’s been, she responds with a tight smile that she’s just been out walking. When Alex asks why she’s so pale, she reassures her she’s fine, and accepts the cup of tea she offers before retreating to her room.

That’s the first night Kara dreams of her.

In her dreams, she is still beautiful and otherworldly, but her dress is pristine. Her pale skin is smooth and unmarred, painted amber in the thin light cast by their solitary candle.

In her dreams, Kara knows her name, whispers it into the skin of her shoulder as she slowly unlaces her corset. This is her favorite time of the night, when her lady’s mother is in bed, and Kara has Lena all to herself. When the marionette strings holding Lena up are cut and she falls, eager and pliant, into Kara’s arms.  Lena’s rigid spine melts like candlewax under the heat of her fingers, and she sighs so prettily as her chemise falls to the floor, unheeded.

“I’m sorry about today.” Lena turns around at her vanity, facing Kara. Her eyes are mournful and tired, and Kara’s heart aches for her. “The things Lillian said--”

“That is how one is supposed to talk to the maid.” She makes a half-hearted attempt at mimicking Lillian, but it falls flat, and Lena merely grips her collar with angry fingers. “I’m used to it. You, on the other hand, should stop antagonizing her when she does, or she’ll end up starving you until Christmas.”

“I don’t care! She went too far.” Lena protests in a heated whisper as she pulls Kara closer by her collar, their foreheads touching. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

Kara savors the warmth of her lady’s breath against her cheek, and her hand comes up to mold against Lena’s neck and jaw. “Nor should you.”

Their lips come together in a fierce kiss, tender and hungry, softness yielding to desperation. Lena tastes bittersweet and oh, how Kara loves the taste of her. Kara loves her, and she wants to yell at the unfairness of a world that would ever hurt her lady. She wants to scream and cry and rage at how unfair it is that the only love Lena has ever received is in this cold, damp room lit only by the last of the candles Kara can light for her. Kara loves her so much, she aches with it, with the need to show her just how much. 

Her hands slip over smooth, quivering skin, and as she pulls away from the kiss, Kara breathes the promise into Lena’s open mouth. “One day, I’ll take you away from here. I’ll build you a beautiful house filled with light and warmth, just like you always wanted. And I’ll fill it with books and flowers, just for you.”

“As long as I’m with you.” Lena sobs breathlessly into her mouth, her fingers digging into Kara’s back, “I only want it if it’s with you.”

And Kara wakes in the wide bed of her ancestral home, breathing heavily, with the phantom sting of a lover’s fingernails on her back. 

Beside her, Mon-El snores lightly, completely oblivious.

_________

It’s not the last time Kara dreams of her.

Sometimes, Kara dreams of being a child, running along the fading, derelict halls of what she somehow knows is Luthor Manor, and being whipped viciously by Lillian until her lady intervened and got herself denied meals for the next two days for her trouble. 

She dreams of drawing pictures in the dusty floor for her lady’s amusement, her small clumsy fingers honing their talent first in dust, then the little bit of charcoal she can pilfer, and then -- when Lena secretly spends what little money she’s able to save on a gift for her -- oils and paints, all hidden from Lillian under a loose floorboard in their room.

Kara dreams of a once-great house crumbling down around their ears, of standing dutifully beside Lena and Lillian as the debt collectors took beloved artifacts from the house, one by one -- priceless paintings and sculptures, generations-old; Lena’s precious books and the cherished ornate microscope that had been a gift from her brother -- until they were left with nothing but the shame of an empty house and an empty name.

Kara dreams of her own trembling, yearning fingers helping her lady undress each night after the pompous, oppressive suitors had left and the two of them were alone in Lena’s room, shedding each layer of clothing. Her polite and careful hands unraveling, unlacing and unfurling with a secret pleasure, like peeling away the petals of a flower to reveal the tender, fragile flesh underneath that only Kara was allowed to see, but was forbidden to touch.

She dreams of the first kiss shared in that cold, dim room -- when the single candle Lillian had spared for them fizzled out into smoke, and the dark had made her brave enough to trace the invisible outline of her sleeping lady’s lips. Only Lena hadn’t been sleeping, and Kara’s own name was pressed into her impertinent fingertips in an tremulous whisper, and terrified but aching, she had replaced her hand with her own lips instead.

After the fifth night of waking up from dreams that make her heart pound and her whole body ache, Kara can’t pretend anymore. 

These dreams clearly mean something, and the woman in them -- the same woman she had seen bloodied in the graveyard -- is clearly significant.

She slips away from the wedding preparations without being noticed and begins to investigate. A search for the name ‘Lena Luthor’ yields no information on the woman herself, but it does lead Kara to an old family tree that she finds in the old town records.

The Luthors, she discovers, were an old family that used to be very powerful in Argo several hundred years ago. Except their money, it seems, had run out a few generations before, and the last of the line she sees are two names: Alexander and Lena Luthor.

The family tree doesn’t list anymore information on Lena that wasn’t on her gravestone, but it certainly has more information on Alexander “Lex” Luthor. It lists that had been married and had had a child, though both his wife and infant had died during childbirth. 

However, when Kara digs deeper into the story, she finds an old article in an old newspaper that speculates that Lex Luthor had killed his wife and their baby. The article further states that Lex had fled under suspicion of murder, and that all the properties he had inherited as the sole male heir of the dwindling Luthor fortune were seized during the investigation until he could be found.

Kara spends all day in the library, poring over old articles and books, trying to find any more information on the Luthors. Her reporter’s curiosity is piqued by this mystery, and it’s awakened that old instinct to try and dig for the truth. She tries not to think how this has consumed more of her passion and attention than her own wedding, which is a week away.

Instead, she just burrows deeper, trying to find the location of the old Luthor Manor. Unfortunately, she discovers that it was torn down a few years after Lena’s death, and that a new family had built their home on its grounds.

It takes her several tries and the aid of a very helpful librarian, but Kara is finally able to find some records of the sale of the estate, and a current map of Argo to compare with the old map of the town so she can find where the old Luthor Manor was.

Her jaw drops and she has to sit back and exhale slowly when she sees current location. No way. This is too bizarre. But in a weird way, it makes sense.

Kara’s ancestral home has stood for almost two hundred years on the ruins of the old Luthor Manor.

She checks the records of the sale again, and it’s all crystal clear on the page. Luthor Manor and the land it stood on was bought by the artist Kara Inze-Dey nearly two hundred years ago. The old house had been torn down, and a new one built in its place. The same house that stands in that spot to this day. 

The very same one Kara is to be married in and inherit.

Kara returns the books and the maps in a state of muddled shock. How has she gotten so swept up in this? Three weeks ago, she’d never even heard of this house, and now she’s tangled in this mess and having dreams of a long-dead woman who may or may not have appeared to her as a bloody ghost few days ago? Not to mention, her great-great something grandmother was actually a prolific artist and she didn’t even know it? What is going on?

Maybe it’s time to go back home. Put this obsession away, and focus on the important stuff, which is preparing for her wedding. She feels a little guilty. She hasn’t had a proper conversation with her fiancee for a week. She hasn’t shown up to fittings or tastings or any of that. She hasn’t even thanked Eliza and Alex and her friends for all the work they’re putting into preparing the house for the wedding.

When Kara returns to the house, multiple people descend upon her -- the wedding planner, her assistants, people asking her to please make a decision on where she wants the centerpieces, or when Mon-El’s mother is arriving, or whether it should be the white or the pink petals in the flower girl’s basket.

Luckily, Alex, bless her, seems to sense her panic immediately, and she pulls her aside to a quiet corner, and asks her what’s wrong. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been distracted lately. You’re barely ever here. It seems like you’re doing everything you can to avoid getting involved in this wedding. Kara, if something’s wrong, you know you can talk to me, right?”

And Kara would appreciate her sister’s genuine concern, and might even be tempted to answer her truthfully, but at that same second, she spies a familiar figure underneath the arch of white flowers on the gazebo outside.

“I’m fine, Alex,” she musters a reassuring smile. “I promise, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately. Everything’s fine, I promise.”

With a quick hug to reassure her sister, Kara hurries away to the follow the pale figure outside the window. She approaches cautiously, half-expecting her to be a hallucination.

Lena turns to her, and after all those dreams, those green eyes and that small sad smile is so familiar that Kara can feel her fear and confusion fall away to be replaced by a vague familiarity.

"I'm sorry,” The soft voice is familiar too. “I didn't mean to frighten you last time. And I don't mean to frighten you now. It's just.... you look so much like someone I used to know, and I couldn't help it, I had to see you again...."

She looks so sad and beautiful and delicate that Kara's heart just goes out to her. Kara waves her hand and scoffs. "Nah, you didn't frighten me. I'm not scared of you. You just.... startled me, that's all."

Lena chuckles softly, and there’s something almost affectionate in the sound. She reaches out to touch one of the flowers on the arch, her fingertips not-quite brushing the white petals. "Plumerias were always my favorite....She always remembered."

"Who's ‘she’?" Kara asks quietly, even though she thinks she knows the answer. She doesn't really need to whisper, there's no one around, but it feels right in the moment. Like if she speaks any louder, the other woman will disappear.

Tears begin to shine in those luminous eyes. "Kara. My Kara."

Kara swallows.

"She looked just like you, you know..." Lena smiles at her, her fingers reaching toward her instead of the flowers this time. Kara doesn’t mean to, but steps back reflexively, and a flash of hurt spasms across Lena's face before disappearing into another sad smile, this time with a trace of bitterness in it. Her hand drops to her side instead. "I'm sorry. It's just..... I've been waiting for so long, I...."

"What do you mean, 'waiting'?" Kara asks, unable to suppress her curiosity. "What have you been waiting for?"

"For my Kara to come for me."

"You - Why..." Kara doesn't know what to say to that. "How long have you been waiting?"

"I..." Lena trails off, seemingly confused. "I don't know. I just..... a long time."

"You're Lena Luthor, right? That was your grave I've been visiting."

"No - I - yes, I suppose it is." Lena nods, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Yes, I am Lena Luthor. Or... I was. But... I don't even remember that being a grave. I don't remember anything, except... I was waiting for Kara there. I've been waiting for so long..."

“Why were you waiting there?” Kara presses.

“We were.... We were going to run away together.” Lena murmurs, her voice barely a whisper. “I was finally going to leave that place, with her. Always with her... She said she would come back for me there.... but she never did.... I don’t know, I--”

“Kara? There you are!” Mon-El’s voice cuts harshly across Lena’s soft whispers, and Kara turns to him, startled. “Where have you been?”

“I--” Kara whirls around to see that Lena has disappeared and the gazebo is empty. “I was just--”

“Did you forget? My Mom’s coming over tonight. She should be here any minute. I made reservations at that restaurant in town, and you know she hates when we’re late. C’mon.”

Kara allows herself to be led away, but she casts one last look at the spot where Lena was just a few moments ago.

There’s nothing there.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist #supercorp au #fanfic #my writing #i have no idea what this is. i don't know anything #kara is somehow a lady's maid in this i don't know what happened #this was just supposed to be a vague au i swear

[johnkrrasinski]

ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Chapter 2: Dark Little Paradise 

full masterlist // series masterlist 

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,924 

Warnings: sexual themes, kidnapping, stalking, BDSM. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: after the death of your mother, you decided that you were going to do something new to honor her. You chose a perfect camping spot somewhere down South. You thought it was going to be the life-changing vacation that you never had in your life, until Steve Rogers, a man existed in roughness and control all his life, found you.

a/n: here’s chapter two of into the woods folks! hope you like it. and yes, my titles are usually inspired by taylor swift lyrics so, get familiar with that. also, things are going to get more intense in the next chapters, so buckle in and enjoy the ride. please leave a like and comment. thank you for all the positive feedback on the first chapter! 

You retreated to your camp after your miserably failed escapade, later that afternoon. You were debilitated by the incident. You decided to chug down your water and laid yourself on the mattress inside the tent. Taking a brief nap sounds like a good idea right now. You closed your eyes and let the unconsciousness take you away.

A few hours later, you woke up, it was already dark out. You slept longer than you thought. You thought you were only going to rest for 1 to 2 hours, but as it turned out, you the day must've missed you away. Oh, what the hell, you thought. It's not like you were going to pack first thing tomorrow and leave anyway, you still have another day to relish in nature. Considering how early you woke up today and the hours you had spent on the road, you deserved that break.

You decided to grab a package of instant spaghetti you shopped at the gas station's convenience store. You ate with the companion of the sound of the waterfall and your mind started to shuffle its tricks on you again. Mom would've loved this. She also would've reprimanded you for eating 'such unhealthy food.' You chuckled bitterly. But you decided to let the thought of her sink in; it's nice to not feel so alone, even if it's only on your head.

You changed into an oversized, light blue hoodie and a pair of high-waisted sweatpants. You decided to call it a night and turned off the solar light sitting right next to you. You pulled on the duvet and tuck yourself in. Slowly, you waved the night goodbye.

Steve Rogers went back to his cabin later that day after his conducive treasure hunting. His thoughts couldn't stop roaming to her all day, after that. He walked around the house with a painfully hard cock and he was eager to do some seizing tonight. He counted the ticking hours on the clock. He couldn't wait for the day to turn dark.

By midnight, he was ready to return to her camp. He was clad in an all-black gear to meld himself into the obscurity. He put on a black baseball cap and he inserted a bottle of GHB and a handkerchief inside his jeans pocket. Now all he needs to do is visit her.

He was as quiet as a ninja, he stood a few feet away from her tent to ensure that things are in his favor. The light from her tent was switched off and there wasn't a single movement or sound from inside. She was fast asleep, good. Things are going as perfectly as planned.

He neared the tent and he kept his steps mute. He zipped down the tent's opening and there she was. Sleeping as soundly as a baby. Her face was half-tucked into the quilt but he could see the shadow of her features, illuminated by the faint radiance of the moon. She was even more stunning up close. He grew more impatient to bring her home.

He crawled inside, cautious to not wake her up. The tent couldn't contain his height so it was an awkward posture for him but he managed. She was still deep asleep despite his presence. She was really fatigued and it amused him.

He longingly gazed down at her beauty for a second, he didn't have much time, but he was absolutely starstruck by her. He squatted to pull out the bottle of GHB and handkerchief in his pocket. He poured a drop of GHB just enough to get the job done. Without any more delays, he pressed the cloth into her nose, and his other hand shoved the back of her head to keep her in place. In a matter of seconds, her eyes were wide awake.

She tried to scream, she was in a tightened state and her hands that were tucked under her the pillow, immediately went to pull his hands away but couldn't. She tried to wiggle her body rapidly to get out of his hold, but he overpowered her. He didn't even have to try to tame her down but she was drowsing fast.

She was paralyzed in his hands. The ethereal figure was now immobile. It's time to go home.

You woke up on a silk-covered mattress, the material was cold under your touch, you felt groggy like the room was spinning and you couldn't grasp on anything. There was a single bulb in the center of the ceiling, illumining the room but it was dimmed. After you collected yourself together and fluttering your eyes open, you attempted to sit up, only to realize that your hands were handcuffed to the bedpost, you were disoriented. What the hell is happening?

You tried to recall the last 24 hours. You wandered around the woods, you scuffed your thigh and retreated to your tent. Did you have dinner? Pretty sure you could remember consuming pasta, and then, what came next? Did you go to bed? Yes, you were certain that you called it a night and rested. But how did you wind up here? Where exactly is here? You began to feel agitated, you looked down only to realize that you had been stripped out of your clothes and underwear. You were plain nude and your legs were cuffed to the bedpost too.

You took a look at your surroundings, it looked more like a Roman fort. The walls were constructed on dark, burnt brown-colored logs. There were whips, chains, paddles, ropes, and all kinds of leather dangling across the wall, you saw a wooden pillory and other types of grotesque contraption you had never seen in your life.

You slightly turned your head to the right corner and you saw Parquet-tiled stairs that led you to God knows where. You could only count the first few bottom treads in the opaque of the room. Something about that staircase gave you the creeps. It was the conundrum of it. Like the haunting feeling of knowing something was lurking on the other side, but you weren't sure if you were ready to find out.

On the right corner of the room, you spotted a rustic oak handmade table, filled with what looked like miniaturized trinkets with various, intricate shapes, from the distance your eyesight could capture, some looked longer than the others, some modeled the shape of an egg, some others took the shape of a stick...? You couldn't paint yourself a clear description. There were too many foreign things that bewildered your hazy brain.

Shivers ran down your spine. You tried to scream for help, but your words were muzzled. You hadn't noticed the ball gag around your mouth. Your jaw was tense and you cried out but nothing was uttered. You lifted your head as high as you can go only to wiggle out of the bindings. Your wrist reddened due to your failed attempts of trying to release your hands out of them.

Your head fell back onto the pillow and caved in. Tears began brimming in your eyes. You were petrified and disoriented. Where the hell were you? Did someone kidnap you? But who would? You were absolutely positive that you were alone in the woods. No traces of any other human being might be lurking in the shadows or followed you here.

So... How exactly did you get here? Your mind was disarrayed. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't realize the sound of the approaching footsteps. You were awakened from your thoughts when the door was clanged opened and it reverberated upon the walls.

You cowered in terror. You thought this was it. The moment where whoever this person was behind that door, was going to torture you and after he was satisfied with his torment, he was going to murder you and discard your body somewhere people can't find you. You were going to vanish from the face of the earth forever. At least you were going to reunite with your mother, the idea emerged uninvited.

Your fallacious thoughts were quickly shaken away by the sight of a tall, muscular man standing in front of you. The lower part of his face was covered in a thick, perfectly trimmed beard. His hands were rigid on his either side. His electric blue eyes stared down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. The silence lingered around the room, for none of you had said a single word to fill in the void.

For what felt like minutes, both of you just froze in a staring contest. Obviously you weren't going to be the one to speak up first, you couldn't even if you wanted to. You were too appalled by this stranger, who looks like he could tear you apart by a single hand before you. He bent slightly forward and dropped his hands so that it was grasping the footboard top rail.

He was clad in a navy blue shirt and plaid shirt as an outer. His expression shifted from indecipherable to a smirk. The hell? Did this really just smirked at you? It was heinous. His gaze was as intense as the devil. His gravel voice echoed, "relax. I'm not gonna hurt you."

That didn't enlighten your mood. You were even more terrified than before. So what did he want? Why were you here? Where exactly are you? So many questions yet so little options.

He moved to the end of the bed where he sat by your foot. His gaze didn't quiver nor did the tension in the air. You flinched as if you were unrestrained. If anything, it only clanged the cuffs that shackled your wrists and your legs.  

You felt utterly exposed and uncomfortable. You've never been nude in front of anyone, let alone a strange man. He shamelessly drifted his eyes from yours to the length of your body. Your bare chest and your displayed pussy weren't left uninspected.

He spoke up again, "you are even more divine up-close." He moved onto the bed and caged you with his body. His hands were on either side of your head and his knees were on either side of your hips. You felt so small under his presence. The shadow loomed over his face and it made him even more intimidating.

"I know you're scared. But I can assure you that it's going to be alright. I'll take care of you." He consoled as if he was pacifying a child who just ran in horror because she had a bad dream.

He leaned down to press a kiss on your upper lip, and you jerked away. You turned your head to the left side to dodge his kiss. It upsets him and he grabbed your jaw to hold you in place so he could steal that kiss. You shrieked in disgust, hoping that it was loud enough to give him the signal. You didn't like it, you wanted to be released from the gagged. You wanted him to let you go.

As if he could read your mind, he spoke up, "alright, I'm going to take this gag off for now, but you have to promise me that you won't scream, understood?"

You didn't give away any reaction, you just stared at him in fear. You heard his words loud and clear but you refused to acknowledge him, under any circumstances. He asked you for the second time with a much firmer tone, as he glared into your eyes; "understood?"

Your only response was nodding. "Good girl. We've got a lot more to work on, but I know I can mold you into my perfect little plaything."

His world left you in utter shock. Perfect little plaything? What the hell was this man planning to do with you? Did you ever cross paths with him and perhaps wronged him? Most importantly, did you just make the biggest mistake in your life and basically handed yourself over to death by coming to these woods?

He untied the straps of the ball gag. You were able to breathe a little easier now. You wished to scream, but you weren't stupid enough to do the exact one thing this man just warned you not to. You weren't sure whether anyone could hear you anyway, the solid clapboard walls were bulky enough to deter any noises out.

You stared around the room once more, to make sure that you were living in reality instead of a terrible dream. You tried to look anywhere else but him, fearing his murderous eyes that saw right through you. That trapped your soul by a single glance.

"Speak, before I put this gag back on."

He's already thinking of putting the gag back on already?! You felt defenseless. You couldn't fight back or entreated this man to stop doing what he already made up in his mind.

"Wh- where am I...?"

"The same woods where you camped."

"It- it's not exactly like I remember..."

"Don't worry, you are safe with me. You don't have to worry about your old life anymore now."

"Wh- who are you?"

"Steve Rogers. But, you may call me sir, at certain times." His lips formed a smirk. There was a hint of lust in his eyes when he said those last three words.

"Why am I here...?"

"I saw you wandering around the woods, all alone. I immediately knew that you were the one I had been looking for. So I took you."

"Took me?"

"Yes. You are here, aren't you?"

The lightheadedness that you felt minutes ago came back. You were having a hard time processing all this information, coming from a strange man who claimed he wanted you.

"This is... This is crazy, I need to- I need to go home."

"Shh, hey, hey, it's alright. I know you are scared and confused, but I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you as long as you listen to me and do as I say."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Simple. All you have to do is just surrender to me and follow my orders. We will both receive pleasure if you choose to make it easy for yourself."

"And... What if I don't want to?"

He paused for a moment. "Then there will be punishment."

You gulped. You really had no way out and there was no way that you could overpower or trick this man into releasing you.

"Can you please untie me?"

"No, not now. You will gain a reward if you obey, we are going to go through every training and tests, and if you succeed in passing them, then you will earn your freedom."

"You mean... You will let me go?"

He chuckled darkly, he didn't have to say it, but the words were clear in his eyes "silly girl, you really think I'd ever release you?"

"No, sweetheart." He paused. His face inched to yours as he shifted in his seat. His body that was facing the wall instead of solemnly towards you, was imparting full attention on you now. The message in his eyes were clear; "listen to me carefully, little girl. For I will not repeat myself for the second time."

Then his lips manifested the words; "every night, I will tie you to this bed, and if you pass the test of the day, then I will unleash a part of you. if you don't, then, you're going to have to endure sleeping in the dark bound, until I see an improvement. When you have succeeded in becoming my perfect little doll, then we can start discussing you moving upstairs and your limits."

"Limits of what...?"

"Freedom. About you going outside, moving around the house, and other things."

"What kind of doll you want me to be?"

"My fuck doll."

His answer left you dumbfounded. You were overwhelmed by everything that had befallen on you. You were still vulnerable from your mother's death, and now the vacation that you thought was going to transform you into a stronger woman, conversely ambushed you at your weakest spot and delivered you at the feet of the devil himself.

You started crying for God knows how many times now. He tried to pacify you once more, "shh, it's okay, babygirl. Let's not inundate ourselves with too many questions, yeah? Tomorrow, we will start our training. It's late, you should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."

You saw the darkness in his dilated pupils when he stated the last sentence. Also, you didn't even realize that it was already late. There wasn't a single clock in sight, nor was there a single window that would apprise you the current juncture of the world. You couldn't tell whether it had been an hour, three days, or perhaps a week since you had been here.

Without uttering any more word, he lifted your head mindlessly and strapped the gag back on. He rose from the bed and left you in the exact same state that you were in when you woke up. He walked away to the door of where he came from. He took at one last glance at you before his steps took him out of your peripheral.

"Goodnight." He turned off the single light bulb that radiated through the center room. Then he was gone. You closed your eyes, hoping when the morning greets you, you would wake up from this God-awful lifelike nightmare.

#steve rogers au #steve rogers series #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers masterlist #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers au #dark!steve rogers series #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #into the woods #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers x reader