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charcoallbaby · 4 months

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fake marriage

smuttyyyyy ofc so 18+ also a lil toxic

tired asf i’ll do a spelling check tmrw thx for reading!

having a fake marriage was definitely one of the best thing to ever exist especially since i get paid to pretend to love a man who is basically heartless, well to most people he is.

i get to live in a giant penthouse in the city of boston, i get a huge bedroom, with a ensuite plus a balcony, free clothes, mostly everything gets handed to me.

as much i love being in this fake marriage, there are some cons mostly because of matt. i mostly hate hearing him fuck girls in the room next to me, when i can’t do anything like that, he’s very protective of me, he gets jealous very easily, he doesn’t really let me talk to any male being while he’s with me. he punishes me by not paying me that week which doesn’t really effect me, the amount of money i’ve made since this marriage is insane, it would take me months to run through it. but in matt’s eyes he’s somehow “punishing me.”

tonight was a black-tie event for one of his many company’s. he got me a vintage chanel dress from the 90s. it was the most beautiful dress i’ve ever laid my eyes on, i knew the price of the dress would be nothing to him, he just wantedme to look good standing beside him.

“ready?” matt asked while fixing his cufflinks on his wrist. “yeah, i just need to get my heels on.” i grabbed my silver heels from my collection of different types of heels.

“the cars outside y/n.” he looked me up and down. “fuck, can you grab my bag?” i asked slipping myheels on. he rolled his eyes and grabbed my bag off my vanity. “thank you.” i took my small clutch from his hands and made my way to the elevator.

“behave tonight,” matt whispered in my ear before placing his hand around my waist, smiling for the cameras. “i always do.” i say through my teeth. “we’ll see about that love.” he pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

everything is for the cameras and i mean that. the touching, the kissing, theres no contact between us at home. before today i hadn’t spoken to matt in probably 3 days. not that he would talk to me anyway. he only talks to his parents, his 2 brothers, the maids who clean the house(mostly flirting) and the girls he fucks in the guest bedroom, matt would never dare to fuck a girl in his own bed, he’s really weird about that type of thing, he hates when anyone goes into his room well everyone but the maids, as i said he flirts with them a lot, just to make them blush, it boosts his already massive ego. after i come home from picking up some groceries up or going to visit my friends, i hear him making up some story of how he saved an animal or how much money he gives to charity which i know he does. but he hates people, hates them other than the couple people he talks to.

mine and matt’s hands were interlinked as we walked into the building.

“how long have you guys been married?” the older women infront of us asked. i looked up at matt before speaking, “well me and matt have been together 3 years, married for 1,” i gave a fake smile to the women. “that’s just so beautiful!” she chimed. matt gave the women a small smile. “wait!” “what about kids, do you have kids?” matt’s let go of my hand and put the hand i just holding around my waist. i cleared my through before awkwardly laughing. “no, no,” “not as of right now,” i smiled. “maybe soon,” matt finally spoke. “oh really!” she exclaimed. “yes matt really!” i looked up at him, he looked down at me before looking back at the women. “maybe not soon, but in the future.” he licked his lips. “wonderful!” “it was nice talking to your mr and mrs sturniolo, i’m going to find my husband he wanders off!” she laughed. “you too.” matt gave her a straight lined smile. “bye.” i smiled.

me and matt watched her walk away. “fuck,” he took a deep breath. “having kids soon are we?” i turned to him. he moved both his hands around my waist as he looked down at me. “only said that for people to have something to talk about,” i could feel his warm hands through my dress. “it’s crazy how such a cold hearted person can make something up like that,” i teased him. he looked away from me, chuckled before looking back at me again. “you look good.” he licked his teeth. “yeah you too.” i touched his right bicep.

“thank you everyone for coming tonight,” matt awkwardly had his hand in his pocket as he gave a speech. “i would like to thank my team and my wife,” “thanks.” he awkwardly put his drink up in the air before taking a sip.

the room was filled with people loudly clapping.

“what’s wrong?” matt asked as he came down by from the stage. “my feet hurt.” i whined. “y/n baby, i didn’t marry you to whine about your feet come on let’s get a drink.” he put his hand on my back and guided me towards the bar.

“what would you guys like?” the bartender asked. “scotch on the rocks,” “y/n?” matt asked. i looked at the bartender. he smiled at me. i gave him back a small smile. i cleared my throat. “i’ll have a-” “she’ll have a glass of white wine,” matt interrupted me. “alright, that’ll be coming straight up,” he looked at me. “are you trying to piss me off?” he leaned down and whispered into my ear. “no,” i gulped. “you were flirting with that guy,” “matt i just smiled.” “we’re going home, come on.” he grabbed my hand.

the car ride was silent. matt was on his phone making the back of the SUV slightly light up. i looked out the window, mostly trying to notfall asleep.

matt pressed the button for the elevator. he stood there my heels in his hand while looking down at the marbled floor on the lobby floor.

the elevator opened, no one inside. we both walked in. matt pressed the number for our apartment before leaning his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. he looked so sexy, his jawline was sharp as fuck, his long hair falling over his eyes and his tie wrapped around his shoulders, he took it off when we got in the car. i pressed the emergency button making the elevator immediately stop. matt’s eyes darted open. he looked at me.

“why’d you stop the elevator y/n?” he groaned. “why are you so overly protective with me matt?” “you know i don’t flirt with guys especially in front of you, you love to make shit up did you see me flirt with that bartender?” “i simply smiled at him as a nice human does,” i crossed my arms. matt rolled his eyes. “what would you like to pretend that i don’t care?” “y/n, you think i care about who you flirt with?” “i actually couldn’t care fucking less, i just you know like to make this marriage look a little bit realistic,” he leaned over and re-pressed over apartment floor button. the elevator began moving again. “this marriage would be a little realistic when i have people over for you to not be fucking some girl,” i looked down at my nails. “what’d say?” “you heard me loud and clear,” the elevator doors opened. “thanks for holding my heels baby.” i grabbed the heels from his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek just to piss him off even more.

i made my way to my room before matt grabbed my arm turning me around. “who do you think you are?” matt asked. i shrugged my shoulders before turning back around. “y/n!” matt yelled, pulling me back and pressing me against the wall beside us. “come on baby, tell me,” matt roughly held my waist. “i’m your wife matt,” i looked up at him. “your my wife y/n and i would like if you actually listened to me when i talked to you,” his grip on my hips became softer. “i’m sorry, i promise i’ll listen better next time daddy,” i batted my eyelashes. his eyes rolled into the back of my head. “i’m going to bed.” he backed away from me. “sweet dreams husband.”

after the little scene matt made, i changed out of my dress and walked into the kitchen to find a snack to eat.

i sat myself down at the kitchen island, a bowl of ice cream in front of me, my phone in my left hand, the spoon in my right. i had been thinking of eating this ice cream all day and now i finallygot a chance.

i was nearly half way through the bowl before shirtless matt walked into the kitchen, he had those plaid pj pants he loved with of course the waist band of his boxers sticking out. i rolled my eyes before focusing back onto the ice cream. i could hear matt open the fridge. i quickly looked at his back. it was so defined, his tattoos making it way hotter that it actually had to be.

“do we have any spare batteries anywhere?” i spoke. matt turned around, opened-water bottle in his hand. “why?” he asked. “for my vibarator,” i popped the spoon into my mouth. matt choked on his water. “do you know?” i asked. he cleared his throat. “yeah, there’s some in the uh-in my office on my desk.” he swallowed. “okay thanks!” i cheekily smiled. matt mumbled something i couldn’t make out before walking back to his room.

i opened matt’s office door to find him sitting on one of the couch’s controller in his hand playing his playstation. hm coincidence.

“sorry i just need to grab those batteries,” i walked past him and looked around his desk. i couldn’t see them. “matt where are they?” i turned around and looked at him. “they should be there,” he said not taking his eyes off the tv. i rolled mine while looking back down at the desk. “matt it’s an empty packet,” i held it up. he finally looked at me.“oh shit yeah- i was just being a nice husband, i already put the batteries in for you there sweetheart,” he flashed me a smile before looking back at the tv. i stomped over right infront of him. “i can’t see the tv princess,” “pause it then,” i bit the inside of my cheek. he paused it, placing the controller beside him. “you went through my stuff?” “you held my viborator!” “yeah, it was a nice one,” he smirked at me. “what the fuck!” “your insane!” i yelled. “eh,” “i’m not that bad love.” he opened his legs, man spreading.

i exhaled. “why would you think that would be a good idea?” i put a hand through my hair. “it was a nice gesture, don’t you think?” he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. i groaned. “it’s fucking weird!” “your not even my real husband!” “well if this makes you feel any better i did it so it would make the marriage more realistic,” he titled his head at me. “don’t bring that shit back up matt!” i whimpered.

“come on, it’s okay,” matt pulled himself more towards me. he placed his hands on my waist while looking up at me. “matt what are you doing?” i groaned. “it’s okay.” he pressed his warms lips against my stomach. i slowly closed my eyes. his lips stayed on my stomach while he slipped a finger up my shorts and into my underwear. he slid his finger into my soaking core. i let out a moan. he moved his finger inside me. after a few seconds his finger left me. i opened my eyes. his finger in his mouth. “oh fuck, you taste good,” he moaned. “let me eat you out,” he pulled me by the waistband of my shorts towards him making me fall down onto his lap. i quickly felt how hard he was underneath me. “lay there,” he said moving the controller onto the coffee table in front of us. i nodded my head. i layed myself down. matt licked his lips before pulling my shorts and underwear off. he placed himself between my legs. he was quick to slowly suck my clit. i cried out. “all you do is touch yourself y/n, i bet your dying for this,” matt groaned against me. he slipped his tongue into my licking up all my juices like it’s the best thing he’s every tasted. my hands were pulling onto his hair while parting my mouth open in pleasure. “ma-matt!” i cried out. “nearly there baby?” he pulled away from me making his warm breath hit off the pool he was between. “mhm.” i mumbled.

matt gave me one long stride between my folds before pulling away from me. i opened my eyes and whined. i was on the edge of coming. “i wanna fuck you,” matt said feeling his hard on through his pants. “okay-okay.” i breathed out. “not here, in my room.”

matt placed me down onto his bed, his lips softly meeting mine. we’ve kissed before around people but not alone, it felt so much more different this time.

“you on the pill?” he asked pulling his boxers down. i nodded my head. “i’m gonna fuck you without a condom cause to be fair, i don’t really care if i get you pregnant, your my wife after all.”

matt was inside me, not moving. i was trying to adjust his size. “you can do it, i know you can, matt whispered into my ear. “mhm,” i mumbled. he started to move inside me slowly but then started to pick it up. his arm was hovering over me, grabbing the headboard for support “fuckkkkkkk,” he moaned. “y/n, i’m gonna fuck you until the sun rises okay?” he grunted. “y-yeah.” i let out. “such a girl good for me.” he placed a kiss to my lips. his necklace that had a horse pendant was dangling over me, i got him it for his birthday that he claimed to only wear when we have to put our act on but he wears it all time.

i clenched around matt for like the 4th time in the last 2 and half hours.

matt dropped himself down beside me. “it gets better every fucking time y/n i swear.” matt said before sucking a nipple into his mouth. “mhm, i know baby.” i closed my eyes and put a hand through his hair and down his neck.

he popped my nipple out of his mouth before looking up at me. “you wanna order food, we can fuck inbetween don’t worry, i just hungry as fuck when i have sex,” he leaned his chin between the gaps my boobs. “yeah i could eat something i’m starving,” i ran my hand over his cheek. “your choice to pick.” he said before kissing my lips and getting up to throw his pj pants back on. i looked up at him sprawled out on his bed, naked. “am i the only girl you’ve had in this bed?” i asked. “pretty much,” he grabbed his t-shirt from the ground. “i feel special,” i grinned. he jokingly rolled his eyes. “don’t worry, not gonna happen again,” “that’s what you say until you hear me moan your name while my vibartor is between my thighs,” i sat up. “you think of me?” he chuckled. i nodded my head. “my wife actually thinks of me while masturbating, im a lucky man.”

“yeah, no more sex.” i spoke before rolling my eyes.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #imagine #smut #matt sturniolo smut #pov

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twtd11 · 6 months

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Tumblr, it is time. It is time for me to tell you about this year’s lesbian hallmark-esque movie from Tello Films. To wit:

A Holiday “I Do”

Much like Christmas at the Ranch, which I talked about last year, this movie is, well, more charming than good. Also like Christmas at the Ranch, it takes place at a horse ranch. Or farm? Or stables? It’s never quite clear except that they make some money from giving riding lessons.

Somehow, as has been pointed out to me, the marketing for this film completely ignores the whole horse aspect of the movie. Maybe because they didn’t want the audience to think it was Christmas at the Ranch 2.0? Which is fair considering that is, in fact, basically what it is. Maybe Tello Films has a hook up with some horse people?

Anyway, we have our lead, Jane. Here’s the sich with Jane: Jane had big career aspirations but she met a boy, thought she fell in love, had a baby, then divorced the boy because she realized she was gay. She and the daughter moved in with mom when Jane’s dad died. I can’t remember the daughter’s name and IMDb isn’t helping me out here, so I’m just going to call her the kid.

The kid likes to say droll, sophisticated, self-aware things that sound exactly like what you expect a kid to sound like in a movie about lesbians made by queer people, but which have no relation to how kids actually talk. Yes, kids can be droll and sophisticated and self-aware, but this kid’s voice was 100% constructed by an adult who maybe hasn’t spent a lot of time around kids. I mean, I haven’t spent a lot of time around kids that age either, but I’m pretty sure they don’t sound like this kid. But still, the kid is funny most of the time, so it kinda works.

Back to the plot:

So Jane is alone and lonely and there’s an obligatory speed dating scene where we meet a bunch of stereotypical lesbians which wants to be funnier than it actually is. She goes home and laments her singlehood. But she can’t lament for too long because Jane’s ex-husband and his new fiancée are about to arrive in town. They’re in town to get married and Jane is in charge of the bachelor party. You see, the ex husband is also Jane’s best friend.

Here’s a question (which is never answered): if the ex-husband’s only connection to this small town is that his ex-wife lives there, why did he choose to have his wedding there? We never get an answer for that question.

After all of that set up, I finally get to introduce the love interest. Her name is Sue, and she’s the lovely couple’s wedding planner!

To facilitate shenanigans, the lovely couple goes off to the airport to pick up the fiancée’s parents and they get stuck there overnight because of the snow. This means that the bride isn’t there to taste the catering and do other things the bride should do before the big day (personally, I’d think you’d want to taste the cake and the catering more than a day before your wedding, but I’ve never gotten married so what do I know?) Jane, who is instantly enamored of Sue, happily fills in as the bride to taste various foods. They get side tracked with sledding and a mid day yoga break (who stops in the middle of their work project and is like, yes, I’ll go to a random yoga class now?).

There are several quirky side characters that play various parts in the plot. Some of them come off better than others. The evil banker who isn’t really evil because we’re undermining that trope, was particularly a stand out for me. She knew her job and she was totally in.

I’ll leave the conflict/climax/resolution to you, dear reader, should you feel the need to spend $7 to rent it. I feel like it was worth my money.

And in another parallel with Christmas at the Ranch, I spent most of the movie wanting the leads to kiss and then when they actually got to this kiss, damn it was awkward.

#maybe next time I’ll manage to catch the actual hallmark movie with lesbians #Tello films #a holiday I do #hallmark #wlw #wlw movie

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mortallyclearwonderland · 1 year

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Top 10 tropes/cliches/trends that I'm sick and tired of!

In no particular order.

1. Get down!

Someone screams ''Get down!'' or ''Look out!'' but not everybody gets down. Most of the time it's fine. The characters don't have enough time to react and get hit with an attack or whatnot. What I am actually mad about is when characters have quite a lot of time to get out of the way and they're not distracted by anything yet just choose to just stand there and do nothing.

That also applies to whoever is screaming for them to watch out. You see your friend is in danger, you have an ability that can be useful, do something!

But the most infuriating iteration of that cliche is when they say a character's name before whatever they are screaming and it somehow makes anybody else unable to hear what they're talking about.

''Bob, the train is coming!''

‘’My name is Eric, not Bob. I guess I'll just stand on the track and not even acknowledge what I've heard.’’

Extra salt to the wound when the character can totally see what is coming or at least they should but the animators couldn't be bothered to keep track of who and what is where in relation to each other.

2. Meta

I fucking LOATHE this new trend where they make self referential humor to mock the earnestness of the old stories.

Can’t they just let us get immersed in the universe without having those “We know it’s cliché *wink wink*” Especially when they do nothing to deconstruct it, show it in a new light, have an interesting spin on it, nothing. They just point it out like in CinemaSins! And it's especially annoying when they're ''breaking the stereotypes'' which have been broken years ago.

‘’She's not like other girls/princesses! She fights, speaks her mind, and doesn't want to get married to someone she doesn't love at all.’‘

Wow, you broke new ground. It's not like princesses in the 90s were already independent, princes Leia was a badass in the 70s, and even the older princesses, Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty, get way too much hate. Go subvert the cliche which hasn't been used in years and replace it with this other cliche. There are adults and children today who haven't seen a legitimate, 100% helpless, damsel in distress. Seriously, at this point, I would've been more shocked if there was an actual romance in a Disney princess movie.

And they act so smug about it too. Do you want to talk about unwanted marriage? How about you talk about child brides right now? Because that would be actually controversial in those countries!

Just make a movie about a badass princess, nobody cares!

3. Squidward like character

Do you remember how in the bad episodes of Spongebob, Squidward would be just minding his own business, not harming anyone and then Patrick and Spongebob would just barge in and mess everything up. Squidward would straight up say that he wants them to leave but those two numskulls couldn't take a hint. The episode just ends with no consequence whatsoever for the people who made an innocent person's day a living nightmare.

This used to be everywhere! Seemingly every cartoon channel would at least have one cartoon like that if not more.

I guess the idea is that the children are supposed to relate to the annoying obnoxious little brats energetic and innocent little angels who just want to have fun with their parent/older sibling friend but he's being boring and doesn't know how to have fun.

How did the meme go? The older you get the more you relate to Squidward.

4. Why are you surprised by this?

Don't you just hate when a character doesn't know something that should've been common knowledge?

Ash not knowing pokemon can only say their own name, not knowing what contests are or whatever the gimmick for the season/game is.

People not knowing what mutants are or where to go when they find out they're a mutant.

I know shows and movies need to explain their lore and world building but can't you find a better way than creating that one moron character who asks all the basic questions and gets lectured and info dumped on. At least make them like Tarzan, raised in the jungle not knowing anything else about the world.

5. Super-let-down

When you have a team of superheroes one, if not the most, important and interesting part is their relationship and dynamic. Who's the parent of the team, who's the heart, who's the jokester? How do their superpowers mix, who needs to be careful to not hurt who, what combo moves they can pull off, how they cover each other weaknesses?

Wouldn't it be cool to see super villains do something like that? Guess what? They just argue all the time and when they fight they just get in each other's way. It's especially frustrating when they stop attacking the hero to fight each other. Even more so when the hero is egging them on by saying something along the lines ''Shouldn't you be the leader?'', ''Who's going to be the one to finish me off?'' or ''Are you going to let them treat you like that?'' It makes the villains look like complete idiots with the mentality of a kindergartner.

What a waste of a potentially great team!

Sinister six from the Spectacular Spider-Man is the closest to the satisfying villain team. Wish they had more screen time! They had great chemistry and their banter went above throwing insults at each other.

6. Too many supers in New York City

Since the MCU became big average people started to wonder, if all those superheroes exist in the same universe, then where were they when -insert huge event from a solo hero movie here- was going on.

At least DC has an excuse that pretty much every superhero has their own city to take care of.

It's especially outrages when you have the avengers, fantastic four, spider-man, and probably many others I can't remember right now leaving in the same city. What's also funny is when they meet and act as if they never heard of each other.

7. Stop with all the food!

Recently a lot of Disney movies and shows will have excessively long scenes of food making and I don't know why.

I know that movies that want to showcase some culture focus on the food too because it's part of the culture but come on. I don't want a tutorial on how to cook, put it on a DVD. Animators just want to flex how great they are at animating food, just like anime.

I know it's a weird thing to get hung up on but in a movie, every minute counts and the movie just wasted 1-5 minutes on food porn. Just put the food in the background, make it last a couple of seconds, or be part of the story.

8. Characters look never changes

I know characters always having the same clothes saves time and budget. Animators even make jokes/try to justify it by showing multiple versions of the same outfit.

It gets confusing when supposedly years have passed yet everybody looks the same. That's why I appreciate HTTYD. They let their characters grow up.

9.Did you switch bodies or voices?

I know that you want people to be able to tell who is in who’s body but vocal cords aka voice are part of the body and should stay in the body they belong to.

Change characters' posture, body language, way of speaking, etc.

But please don't change the eyes. It somehow makes even less sense and looks creepy.

10. Fight-cut-Scene

Do you ever see those fights when characters talk for a bit, throw a punch or kick, stop to talk some more, and again and again? Looking at you CW! Also, a massive amount of cutting to hide that the actors don't know how to fight and imitate speed. You know you can just show people being fast, right? Just because something or someone is out of the frame doesn't mean they stopped existing.

#Disney #animation #movie cliches #cartoon cliches

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ruminate88 · 5 days

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Taking The Easy Way Out In Life But Actually Living Harder:

The more you fight against growing pains, the more painful they’ll be! You’ve got to experience them and learn from them!!! I was born with a couple small complications and I couldn’t leave the hospital right away. I had a slow start in life. By the time I’m old enough for school, I’m not quite mature enough and my kindergarten teacher thought I should repeat that grade but my dad was full on against it. I was pushed on but wasn’t ready for 1st grade. Whenever 1st grade came, I hated it! I cried every morning begging not to go… That was when I met my best friend Lori who also struggled like me and we bonded instantly. It was never “love”, it was codependency. As I tried to grow up, I needed to lose Lori becuase she was only holding me back… She would never hear me out and eventually I just cut her out of my life but that sucked for me. Depression shortly followed after that.

I was always looking for “short cuts” in life but yet always ended up making life harder for myself. When I became homeschooled, I thought it would be easier than school but it wasn’t. I watched so many people graduate before me and get their diploma.(I felt like a complete loser) I had been taking care of everyone else around me and avoiding myself. I did get my GED before I turned 20 but it didn’t make me feel smart… By 25, I was focused on the kids I was raising and focused on my brother’s needs. Put myself away cuz I didn’t even know me or like me. 🥺 Always looking for an escape. Drowned myself in pornography and music. I wasn’t attracted to drugs and it’s a good thing too. (I would’ve been a complete addict)

I was in the darkest moments of my life. Learned how to be numb. Don’t feel the pain of life. Life is soooo hard yet I just want to find a short cut. I lived in depression and always used “I’m gonna hurt myself” hoping for people to not leave me but they always did. After my last toxic relationship, I’m FINALLY facing myself and it’s a total nightmare. I’ve neglected myself so long, tried to lean on other people for happiness. Tried to take shortcuts in life but by neglecting myself, I’ve made myself suffer way harder than anyone should have to. I met my husband directly after Andrew and he helps me learn to drive a car. Then we get married. Now marriage is hard work!!! Having to drive to the grocery store, carry it all inside the house, cook the food, clean up the house, be a faithful wife, save money, plan kids, be a good daughter in law, be a good friend, still show up for my parents. It’s all different now!!!!! It’s not easy!!!!

Suddenly my body falls apart within a few years of marriage. I realize I’ve lost hair, I got super sick and lost a lot of weight, I’m tired all the freakin time, I have mood swings, I am either burning up or freezing!!! Bumping into stuff like crazy and constantly having bruises randomly all over me that I can’t explain. I even fell last Christmas off a ladder putting up Christmas lights cuz I’m not stable 🥴 All the impact of being emotionally abused, finally caught up to me!!! There’s NO shortcuts to healing for it all either. I’m constantly triggered by my husband and there isn’t a thing he can do about it. It’s all me. I’m having to finally grow up and take care of myself!! No one can do it for me…

You can try to take short cuts in life but you end up on a long and crazy road. Somehow, I think everything I’ve went through will actually make me stronger but did it really have to all be this way???? My home school journey, just seemed like it was meant to be although I do feel I tried to cheat myself out of so many things. Why did I self sabotage so much????

Don’t run from who you are, face yourself and work on yourself! Don’t put it off any longer!!! You want a good life?? Gotta put in the time and effort. 🥺💪🏻

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vitos-ordination-song · 1 year

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This is something I’ve really struggled w for years but… again my issue of not having an acceptable/understandable narrative… Incest has loomed large over my life and for a long time was not something I was equipped to deal w at all. It was a scary and difficult thing. I think for a lot of people it is. I’ve since done a lot of academic and personal studies on the subject. Now I can talk about it w like, no sense of shame, and yet even bringing it up to others makes me fear the stigma.

I had actual incest in my family—my grandfather was a rapist and pedophile who went after his daughters and others (he was a preacher and had a lot of opportunity). However I didn’t know about this as a kid, and neither did my mother—she only found out later in life when her sister came forward. My uncle had been praising their father on Facebook and she seems to have just broken at that. I once had a dream that my grandfather, who I in fact never met in real life, was at a family reunion and everyone was just treating him as one of the family. I think that’s indicative of how it felt under the surface—he wasn’t there but his marks were everywhere and though much of his first family (he divorced my grandmother to marry my mom’s childhood best friend) distanced themselves from him, they still acted out a lot of his traits—sadism, racism, etc.

At this point I just take incest as a fact, and also I think that psychosexual bonds between parent/child are almost a given if the relationship continues as the child ages. But what that looks like can take a lot of different forms. My mom came out of her childhood totally unable to handle that people are sexual beings (really a lot of denial of animality in general in WASP circles). I can remember her sexually shaming me at age like, 3. Obviously it got worse as her children aged. I feel sometimes like metaphorical FGM was done to me. And even deeper, like she treated me as if I was her sexual abuser from the time I was a baby.

I had an incestuous complex around my father and brothers from age 10-15 or so. I don’t think that’s uncommon really, and it was made worse by our family’s insular nature. I really didn’t have normal friends, and I wasn’t even aware that I was going to go through puberty and develop a sex drive. So i was just stuck at home with my brothers. I had an emotionally incestuous relationship with my drunken father, who I nurtured as if I was his wife or mother. He acted inappropriately towards both me and my sister, but most of that was going back to when I was a toddler. He used to grab at my not-formed breasts and call them tickets.

In general the family had a lot of incestuous ties, my mom is still to this day interfering in my oldest brother’s relationships w girlfriends (he’s almost 30), and she treats the other brother (the black one) like a prize race horse or a young boyfriend she can show off on her arm. All the siblings were too close. I only know my own experiences but I wonder how things were for them—I’ll never know, I just know that age 12, all of this was way too much for me.

I think the number one thing that makes this hard to talk about is I don’t have a normal “victim” narrative. A lot more people have weird family incest stuff than common wisdom would claim, but the fact that I had actual (not just dynamic based, emotional) incest in my family made me think about it more—but there I wasn’t the victim. And my dad never did anything “that bad” to me that I remember. But what did happen?

When I was 13, I decided I was a lesbian and stupidly trusted my brothers and told them. They immediately ran off to tell my parents. Of course I also told them I was an atheist, but somehow my immortal soul wasn’t as important as my sexuality. My dad never talked to me about it once—the most input I got from him was one time I walked in on him watching lesbian porn in the living room. However, my mother spent months of my life cornering me, making me go on long car rides with her, so she could try to talk me out of it. I got slapped, I got forced to listen to her Christian conservative propaganda, I got guilted with the potential that a grandmother might not be able to rest In peace—and I got accused of incest.

I will never forget it. I was in the living room. She decided to confront me in front of my brothers. She went on about how gross and bad lesbians are, and then she went, “if I bared my breast to you right now, would you be attracted to me?” I was stunned. A lot of other back and forth went on, and then I ran out of the house; she locked me out for the night. Later, on a car ride to school, my brothers said that, if I was willing to do something so perverse as have sex with a woman, surely I would be okay with sleeping with them too.

All of that really broke me. More than anything, I think I was terrified they were right. I never felt comfortable touching them after that and there were times they let me know my touch was disgusting. The fear was that I was complicit; I was a pervert; I was sexually depraved and wrong. It was so confusing and a really hard time in my life (this was by no means the only thing going on).

At this point I don’t feel that self-blame anymore. I can see it in context. What happened was that I was punished, scapegoated for something that was the entire family’s sickness. Similar things happened with one of my brothers (scapegoated for the family’s crimes) and sister (scapegoated for the family’s lies). I’m not going to deny that I was sexually attached to family members! Arguably that’s a part of adolescence; the important thing is that you don’t stay there. The entire family had weird sexual boundaries, and it was the fault of my parents for not preventing that. Why should I feel bad that at age 13, when I was highly confused and sexually repressed, I was overly close with my older brother—literally one of the only significant relationships in my life at the time?

And again, it’s like, y’all can call me names all you want, but I’m the only one of my parents’ children who isn’t attached to them at the hip. We’re all adults! The youngest of us is 23! But my oldest brother lives like 20 minutes from them, lived in their house for years, the other one goes to church with my mom every weekend, the last one wants to be nurtured like she’s still a child (though I have to say those last two have limited autonomy for complicated fucked up reasons). But what I’m getting at is that they’re all still a big incestuous unit and I refuse to be a part of it.

#imagine if I had literally anywhere I could talk about this

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."

543 notes · View notes

chateautae · 4 years

Text

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning?

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”

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“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.”

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.”

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.”

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.”

“And why is that?”

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.”

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.”

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.”

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!”

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.”

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across.

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him.

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now.

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face.

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more.

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.”

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?”

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?”

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move.

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book.

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg.

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her?

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct.

You just seemed different.

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!”

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?”

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!”

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?”

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air.

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...”

“Marriage, huh?”

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away.

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied.

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him.

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all.

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?”

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped.

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated.

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet.

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life.

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed.

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?”

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage.

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands.

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life.

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man?

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating.

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall.

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general.

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his.

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.”

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly.

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you.

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go.

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together.

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back.

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?”

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.”

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest.

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands.

It was kinda cute.

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized.

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now?

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake.

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct.

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’.

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest.

You feel him tense underneath you.

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory.

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation.

“Yes, so you do remember!”

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding.

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around.

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait.

Oh God, not him.

Anything but him.

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was?

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be.

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear?

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something?

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name.

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!”

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking.

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem.

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering.

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead.

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable.

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself.

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong.

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold.

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong.

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep.

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Better than ever. You?”

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation.

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively.

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately.

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you.

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle.

Dear God, you took your time with this one.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream.

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for.

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips.

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore?

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you?

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours.

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief.

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise.

“So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face.

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock.

“Says the one who was thinking about me.”

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you.

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you.

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?”

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall.

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve.

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband.

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests.

It was the day of the wedding.

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today.

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony.

And none of it was your real choice.

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite.

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another.

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own.

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage.

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself.

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event.

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept.

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye.

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself.

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate.

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips.

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy.

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate.

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life.

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love.

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering.

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you.

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of.

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from.

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light.

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.

He at least owed you that.

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life.

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection.

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue.

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner.

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner.

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested.

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful.

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official.

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally.

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play.

The fool.

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so.

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again.

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous.

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains.

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think.

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe.

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one.

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move.

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either.

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him.

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner.

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room.

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed.

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him.

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up.

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?”

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions.

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so.

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush.

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed.

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight.

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look.

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting.

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly.

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution.

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar.

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things.

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself.

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked?

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute.

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss.

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange.

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it.

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you.

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve.

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened.

You took a deep breath.

Maybe Taehyung is different after all.

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redpandaramblings · 3 years

Text

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 6

Part 1 Here

Next part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

Before Bakugou could reply, the jeweler came back into the room and handed Denki a piece of paper.

“All right sir, here is your receipt! Your ring should be ready in three days.”

“Thanks.” Denki shoved the receipt into his pocket, quickly making his way to the door. “See you around Bakubro. Don't want to be late for my shift.” The door closed behind him with a bang.

Bakugou wasn’t annoyed though. Now he could pick out the perfect ring for Y/N and not worry about Kaminari being nearby. Everyone knows Kami can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this a secret.” Denki moaned into his hands. He was sitting with his head buried in his arms. Y/N reached across the table and gently petted his hair.

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think either of us are in a good position to start telling people.”

Y/n and Denki sat in a secluded corner of a dimly lit cafe. Both of them had this time free and both of them definitely needed to talk. They stood a lot less chance of anyone asking questions if they were just two friends getting lunch instead of them privately going to each other’s apartments.

Denki looked up, giving Y/N a wide eyed expression. “I know, but I wasn’t expecting Bakugou to show up when I was dropping off that abomination of a ring! I just was lucky the jeweler had already taken it to the back. You were right by the way, that thing is absolutely horrendous. Like, was the designer blind?”

Y/N snorted. “From what I’ve heard, great great grandpappy had a lot more money than brains and wanted to impress his omega by shoving as many stones onto a ring as possible.”

“No kidding. I think it can be seen from space.”

“Very likely.” Y/N chuckled before slumping back into her seat with a sigh. “Though I might have an idea about what Bakugou was doing there.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. When I got back he invited me to the summer festival. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Ah shit, yeah. Isn’t that your guys' anniversary?”

“Yep.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Of course he had to pick this time to actually celebrate. We haven’t gone or done anything… God, I think since he became a hero.”

“So you think he was getting a gift.” Denki sat back as the server came, placing your orders in front of each of you. You both murmured your thank yous and waited until the server was out of earshot before resuming your conversation.

“Yeah, he had to have been. Makes me feel terrible, but there wasn’t a good time to… Well…”

Y/n gestured between herself and Denki.

“Tell him that you’ve been betrothed to an omega of much superior looks, breeding, and manners?”

You gave Denki a little kick under the table as he cackled. He grinned cheekily as he poked at his food. “Sorry. Humor is my coping mechanism. I get it though. Timing sucks all the way around.”

You nodded, sighing and taking a bite of your own food. “Can’t say anything during his heat. Then his schedule was swamped, and I had to sort things out with you. Then bam, anniversary that for some reason he decided to remember this year.”

Denki snorted, popping a bite into his mouth. “That’s about the long and the short of it. And we haven’t even begun to figure out how to tell everyone we’ve not only accepted arranged betrothals, but that we’re engaged to each other.”

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we could just move to Tahiti and never speak to our former friend groups ever again?”

“A valid possibility. But that means we’d have to learn French and maybe Tahitian. You know I only passed English because Hitoshi and his dad coached me.”

“Fair point.” You sighed heavily. “But I’m really not looking forward to these conversations.”

“They have to happen though. You might have some anonymity to hide behind, but I’d rather my friends not find out about our engagement when they see an article about Chargebolt getting married.”

“Really?” You smirked slightly. “Then you’re going to tell everyone at your agency, hmm?”

Denki kicked you under the table. “Shut up!”

You poked at your food again as the smile fell from your lips. “So… Did you get a chance to think about what I sent you?”

Kaminari nodded. “Yeah. And I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“I thought about it a lot. I hate to leave the area, but it would be too awkward to stay here after everything.”

A few days ago you had sent Denki an email with a list of places that had job openings that would suit both of you. You both loved where you lived, but after everything, how could you stay? There’s no way the two of you could continue to keep living in the same apartment building as Bakugou. That would be cruel. Cruel to whom you didn’t quite want to think about. You spoke up again.

“Any place catch your eye?”

Kaminari nodded. “I was kind of thinking Okinawa. I have a few connections there. Decent distance from here and from our parents. And that would probably be the easiest transition.”

“Works for me.” You said, as if it wasn’t ripping your heart out to do this. It hurt. But it had to happen. In the end, you had to believe this was what was best for everyone. It might take some time, but this was it. This was what would make everyone happy in the long run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinsou was worried. Denki had been acting odd. And that’s saying something. The blond omega was usually loud and bubbly, the life of the agency. At least once a week, he invited Shinsou out for drinks, meals, clubs, karaoke, or some other nonsense. But ever since he’d gotten back from his three day leave, Kaminari had been acting strange. When he thought no one was looking, he was quiet. Withdrawn. Like he was puzzling out the toughest problem of his life.

Denki having a problem? Pretty typical. Denki having a problem and not talking to Shinsou about it? Pretty unusual. The blond had always come to the purple haired alpha with even the simplest of problems. Apartment searches, furniture assembly, what support items would suit his quirk best, even things like what to get from Starbucks. And even though he might groan and roll his eyes, secretly Hitoshi loved every second of it. When he had helped by digging through websites, cobbling together a rickety shelf, or reminding Denki that he always got the most cloyingly sweet items on the menu; Hitoshi got to pretend that he was Denki’s alpha.

Shinsou wasn’t sure exactly when he had fallen in love with Denki. Probably had been since high school at least. His dad had warned him against loud blonds while his father had laughed. But he couldn’t help it. Kaminari had been one of the first people to enthusiastically believe in him. Had always sought him out and wormed his way into Shinsou’s life and heart. And now Shinsou couldn’t understand it, but Denki was pulling away. Even as he watched the blond who was typing up a report on his computer, it somehow felt like Kaminari was slipping right through his fingers.

Shinsou cleared his throat. Kaminari glanced up. “Yeah man? What’s up?”

“You doing okay, Denks? You’ve seemed a little out of it.”

Denki met his eyes, startled, then quickly glanced away. “Yeah. Yep! Totally fine.”

“Denki. I know you.”

Kaminari sighed and slumped on his desk. “Just some life stuff. Family stuff. Friend stuff.”

Shinsou frowned, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Denki snorted and laughed quietly. Shinsou furrowed his brows.

“Yeah” Denki sighed. “I know. But half of it isn’t really my stuff to tell and the other half isn’t exactly worth talking about.”

“You sure? We could go grab one of your obnoxiously sweet coffees after work. Go to mine or yours, watch an old crappy horror.”

“Tempting. Thanks man. I would, really, but I got some stuff I have to do after work. Some other time maybe.”

Shinsou frowned. It was rare for the omega to turn down an invitation for a movie night. Hell, it was rare for Denki to turn down an invitation, end stop. It made him even more worried about his omega… friend. His omega friend. His friend who just so happens to be an omega. Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he had. But he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His alpha had decided on the electric blond long ago, and the omega’s unusual behavior and unhappy scent was driving him wild with the need to protect. He really needed to pull himself together and confess soon.

“Well, whenever you’re free then,” Shinsou said, reluctantly letting his hand fall from Denki’s shoulder. “You know my number.”

Denki nodded and looked up, giving him half a smile. “I do. Thanks Shinsou.”

Shinsou walked back to his desk, his mind made up. He needed to tell his omega how he felt, and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she’d worn a yukata. It didn’t feel right to dress up like this. But wearing anything else also felt wrong. Everything about this date felt wrong. Like this was the kind of she she did in another life. And now here she was, going on a date with the man she loved. Who she’d always love. And who she’d already decided she was going to let go.

Y/N snorted and fussed with her hair a bit. Maybe she should have just refused this date. Claimed to be sick or something. But that felt wrong too. So, she just had to get through tonight. After all, what’s one more night of pretending everything is fine? Hopefully this could be a good memory from a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be. After tonight, she’d wait a couple days and then talk to Bakugou and let him go like he clearly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki was going to throw up.

He was going to throw up, right here, all over himself and all over shitty hair, too. His red headed friend was giving him a pep talk as he helped Bakugou into his jinbei. Not that Bakugou needed the help. Or the pep talk. It just was easier to let the squad come over when they had found out about his date. It’s not like he wanted them there or anything. Once Kiri, Mina, and Sero realized he was going to use this date to ask Y/N to be his mate, they had insisted on helping him get ready.

None of them knew about the little velvet box in his pocket and that his plans went further than just asking Y/N to be his mate. Bakugou bit his lip to keep from frowning as he looked over his friends, a certain loud blond conspicuously missing. You wouldn’t hear Katsuki admit it out loud, but he really wished Denki could have been here. He loved the others, and they were great in their own ways. But Denki was his pack’s other omega. He got it in a way that the others didn’t. After tonight, he’d have to make sure to catch Pikachu up on all the news. Hell, maybe he could help his fellow blond finally talk to that purple haired idiot he’d been mooning over for years. Everyone in the pack knew Denki’s family had been harping at him to settle down for quite a while.

Bakugou looked up in time to see Mina coming at him with the hair grease. He threw up his hands.

“Fuck no! Keep that shit away from me!”

“You’ve got to do something about that pile of straw you call a haircut. Besides, Wouldn’t it be nostalgic? Weren’t you interning for Best Jeanist again when you asked Y/N out the first time?”

“Yes, and I’d rather shave myself bald than ever have my hair like that again!”

Mina sighed. “Fine. We’ll do something else. But if I can’t slick it back, you will be wearing eyeliner!”

“IN YOUR DREAMS, PINKY!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited outside the entrance to the festival. It was strangely soothing to watch the people flow by, like you were a rock overlooking a stream. There were groups of friends, couples both young and old, families where the laughing children ran ahead of their parents eager to get inside. You gave a small smile at the last. Maybe that could be you someday, a parent getting to see a festival through the eyes of a child again. Though the mental picture was hazier than it used to be. The children you half imagined just blurs of colorful yukatas, instead of loud and stubborn blond haired brats with their father’s eyes and attitude. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself as a thought occurred to you. If you and Kaminari actually went through with this plan, decent chance the kids would still be blond. The thought hurt a little.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and had the breath knocked out of your lungs.

Katsuki was beautiful. You knew it. Thought it often, even. But tonight he practically glowed. His hair had been tamed into a softer look than usual. The jinbei he wore was the perfect compliment to his skintone. Was that… Yes. Dark eyeliner made his crimson eyes pop. Your heart ached. You’d always love this man. No matter how it tore you apart, he’d always own part of your heart and soul. You smiled weakly and raised your hand in greeting.

“Hey. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Bakugou scratched the back of his head. “Mina got ahold of me.”

“That explains it then.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gently elbowed you in the side before taking his place next to you. “You saying I can’t dress up on my own?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N!” You dodged out of the way as he swatted at you, laughing. Yes. This could be it. One last good night.

“Shall we go in?” You asked, holding out your hand.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked as he walked past you, ignoring your hand.

You gave a quiet smile as you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki picked at his food, none of it making it to his mouth. He was going to be sick. He was going to be sick right here and some paparazzi was going to see and take a picture and the big headline tomorrow was going to be “A Puke Worthy Proposal.” He was trying his best to keep up the illusion that everything was fine and normal, but it was rough. It had been a long time since he’d taken his alpha on even a normal date. And this wasn’t any normal date. It didn’t help that things were feeling forced and awkward.

He wanted to hold your hand, but his own hands were sweating buckets. He tried to keep up casual conversation, but that was getting harder and harder as the night wore on. Every sentence he wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with. It was impossible to keep talking about what vendors he recognized when all he wanted to say was “I love you and I’ll always love you and I want you by my side until the sun stops shining.”

It didn’t help that things felt awkward. Almost nothing was feeling easy or natural. It really had been far too long since the two of you had gone on any sort of date. He frowned as he thought about it. It had been over a year, at least. Longer, even. Well, he was going to have to fix that. He’d be able to use some of that pro hero paycheck and spoil you like you deserved. His Y/N. His mate. And soon, his wife.

Bakugou stared at nothing, his eyes going unfocus as he started daydreaming about how spectacular your wedding would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a disaster. You glanced over to where Bakugou stood picking at his food, looking bored. You’d been trying to keep up the conversation, but for the past several minutes you’d only gotten hums or grunts in response to anything you said.

“It’s amazing how they got all those pro heroes to dance nude as one of the main attractions this year.”

Katsuki grunted.

Yeah, he wasn’t paying attention at all.

You sighed, looking down at your own untouched food. You never should have agreed to come. At least this date was proving it to you. This had to end. The two of you didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. It was even clearer that Katsuki wasn’t even interested in trying. You had no idea why he wanted to have this date in the first place. Some bizarre sense of obligation? Maybe his heat had shaken him up enough that his omega needed the sense of normalcy? This issue was this wasn’t normal for the two of you anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time. You sighed, glancing around for a trash can to oust you untouched dango.

A loud pop caused you to look up. The fireworks were about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou looked up at the sound of the first firework.

“Wanna head to the pier?”

You nodded quietly, following him as he led the way. He was sweating so much now that if he set himself off he’d take out half the city.

This was it. It was almost time. The two of you were going to watch the fireworks from the out of the way pier like you had all those years ago. It was at the end of that fireworks show the two of you had had your first kiss. And this time… Well this time at the end of the show he was going to propose and you were going to say yes, and it was going to be perfect.

That is if he didn’t barf before you two got there.

“Hurry up,” he grunted as he picked up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried not to flinch at Bakugou’s harsh tone. He clearly wanted to get this night over with even more than you did. You tried not to let it hurt.

The pier was empty as it always was. The lack of lighting keeping others away. The first time you had discovered it, it had felt hidden and intimate. Now it felt desolate. Lonely.

You walked up to the railing and stared at the sky. The fireworks didn’t feel magical anymore either. Your fingers wrapped around the railing as you glanced to the side. Bakugou wasn’t even looking up. He was staring at the reflections of flashes in the dark swirling water below.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

And that was Part 6, my darlings! Hope you're enjoying the drama, because there's more angst on the way! You can scream at me about the cliffhanger in replies, reblogs, tags or asks. :P

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#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic #denki #fake dating #fake engagement #part 6

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

GIFT .

Genre : Brother-in-law Jungkook x OC!

Warnings : Yandere Jungkook! Non Consent. Manipulative behaviour. Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Murder

Author's Note : I love reading Yandere fics so I just wanted to write one!! Its very different from what I usually write... So proceed with caution.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time I met Jungkook , it was five years into my relationship with Namjoon.

Namjoon had told me all about his baby brother, a final year student in SNU. Jungkook majored in Business , training to take over the company business . Namjoon often mentioned that it was Jungkook's offer to switch majors that had helped him pursue his own dream of being a music producer.

So when he told me that Jungkook was on a break from university and his parents were looking forward to having a proper family dinner with all of us, I was excited to meet the boy , I'd heard so much about. Namjoon was endlessly fond of his little brother and I wanted him to like me just as much.

Namjoon and I had met seven years earlier in the University Library and had become fast friends. We were both quiet, intellectually driven individuals, preferring to spend our time in the library as opposed to partying with our friends. And yet, in a twist , against our family’s wishes, we had chosen not to pursue an academically driven career either. I’d always felt out of place in my own friend group, most of my friend from Journalism being extroverted and fun loving. Namjoon for his part had only two very close friends, Yoongi and Hoseok and preferred spending time by himself as well.

So it was only natural that we fell in with each other with ease. His beautiful dimpled smile tugged on my gut, even as his gentle nature and gorgeous mind made my heart pound. I fell in love with him, between the late night laughter in the library and the soft secrets whispered against my skin, in the privacy of his bed.

“Nervous?” His voice drew me to the present, fingers inking with mine as he lightly knocked his shoulders against mine, staring down at me with a dimpled smile. I shook my head quickly, squeezing his hand gently.

“Of course not. I just want him to like me.” I whispered and Namjoon chuckled.

“Jungkookie isn’t very expressive so don’t worry if he isn’t very vocal in his affections. He’s very shy with new people but I’m sure, he’ll love you.” Namjoon reached out and lightly, brushed the hair off my face before leaning down and giving me a quick kiss.

I gripped his waist, pressing in closer, lips parting instinctively , eager to chase the taste of him. He groaned and gripped my elbow, pulling me around to press up against the tall , lean strength of his body and this was it, this endless need to touch him even after seven whole years of being together. I moaned when he bit down on my lips, my back arching a bit to press into him.

“Hyung?”

We parted, surprised and I felt my face flame, lips slicked wet and no doubt red from where Joon’s teeth had sunk in.

What a first impression.

“Ahh… Jungkook-ah… You came out?” Namjoon looked a little flustered, dimples peeking out in an abashed smile as he laughed embarrassedly I found myself smiling at Jungkook, who looked nothing like I’d imagined.

I’d been expecting someone cute and friendly.

Jungkook was dressed in all black, tall and intimidating. He was also almost surreally beautiful, gaze piercing and steady as he stared at me. I felt an instinctive urge to hide, not missing the way his gaze trailed up and down my body, lips parting gently to reveal a pair of bunny teeth that looked jarringly adorable on a face that was , quite simply put, arrestingly gorgeous.

He hummed, still standing in the doorway, eyes trained on me and I swallowed when he smiled , wide and open. His tongue darted out, lightly licking his lower lip .

“Hi, Hana.” He said softly and I startled.

“Hana? I’m sure you mean noona…..” I laughed nervously and even Namjoon looked surprised and Jungkook merely smiled, shrugging.

“You don’t feel like a noona.” He said casually.

I merely stared at him, not sure what he meant. Namjoon laughed a little as well, moving over to lightly hug his brother.

“Yah! You’ve just met her. Isn’t it too soon to start being a brat?” He ruffled his hair playfully before turning to me.

“Come on, Hana. Come say hi to my parents.” Namjoon walked in and I rushed to follow him, pausing when I reached the doorway. I smiled at Jungkook, holding a hand out slowly.

“I’ve heard so much about you Jungkook, I hope we can be friends…” I said sincerely and he stared at my hand, not taking it. Instead he gave me another soft smile. Before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of my hand, making me jump .

“You don’t feel like a friend either.” He said with a shrug , before moving away, leaving me stunned on the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years later :

“Seven months? Namjoon we’re getting married in seven months! How am I supposed to plan a whole wedding , with you away from the country?” I asked desperately, watching as Namjoon sat with his head in his hands. He looked stricken, regretful and pained and I felt terrible for being unreasonable but it was impossible not to feel hurt.

“I know.. I know hana, I’m so fucking sorry. But this is such a huge opportunity and its not just me : Hoseok and Yoongi depend on me. I can’t screw things up for them too.” He whispered and I exhaled.

Namjoon had been offered a chance to produce for a very high end recording label based out of the US and they wanted him to stay there for a minimum of seven months. The offer had been a complete surprise, out of the blue and the timing couldn’t have been worse. I’d been accepted into an internship at a popular magazine and it would be impossible for me to go with him. And I was so desperate to go.

We’d never been apart for more than a few days, in the entirety of our relationship and the thought of not seeing him for months made me want to throw up.

“I’ve spoken to Jungkook. He’ll help you with all the things that have to be done. And I swear that I’ll be back at least a month before the date, alright? No matter what happens.” Namjoon said firmly. I swallowed, nodding nervously.

It was true that I didn’t like the idea of being away from Namjoon. But the thought of keeping him away from a dream that he had worked so hard for, was almost unfathomable.

Besides, Jungkook was reliable and sweet. The perfect gentleman. Especially now that he’d taken over as his father’s Executive Assistant, Jungkook was incredibly good at organizing and planning things out.

With his help, I could plan out our wedding to perfection.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next five months were spent in a haze of appointments and fittings and bookings. Jungkook had arranged for a shift in my internship hours, so he and I could spend a solid four hours every day, visiting different vendors, picking out the perfect floral arrangements, napkins, brocade and what not. And for once, I found myself completely enthralled by the idea of spending money of frivolously pretty things. Whether it was the florists or the patisserie, the dress fitting or the invitations, I felt my excitement bubbling over , amazed because marrying into Namjoon’s family meant an unlimited budget and for once, I didn’t mind being extravagant.

What was more, I didn’t miss Namjoon nearly as much as I thought I would. Because deep down , I knew that he wouldn’t have enjoyed this all that much. And I would have felt guilty , dragging him everywhere.

And Jungkook was the one to thank for all of it. He picked me up everyday for an early breakfast , followed by hours of combing the streets for ideas and appointments. He was funny and enthusiastic, eager to help me in every way and I was so grateful that I couldn’t thank him enough.

“I owe you so much, Kookie. You’ve been a life saver.” I groaned, collapsing on the couch and dropping my head back against the backrest. Jungkook chuckled, sitting down on one of the Turkish ottomans and lightly grabbing my ankle, pulling my foot onto his lap. I flushed a little, still not used to how touchy he was.

Jungkook liked wrapping his arms around my waist when we were out and about, fingers fluttering up my sides or brushing hair off my face with easy familiarity. I didn’t mind. He reminded me of my little brother back in Ilsan.

Most of the people we met assumed he was the groom and Jungkook told me it would be better to keep up the ruse because wedding planners were more comfortable when couples came together and I’d agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. I missed Namjoon and I wondered if he would mind. But when I mentioned it in passing to him during one of our daily video calls, he’d merely laughed it off.

“You’re so tense, Hana. You should relax. Everything is going to be okay.” Jungkook said softly, soft fingers digging into the curve of heel before brushing the arch of my foot. I smiled when he tugged my foot close, placing it down on the firmness of his thigh.

I gazed down at him, feeling uncomfortably nervous. This whole thing seemed oddly intimate somehow and I felt the first tendrils of guilt begin to curl around my gut. I swallowed, hating myself for tainting something that was no doubt innocent. I ought to be grateful that my future brother in law was this kind to me.

“I know. Thank you. I just miss him sometimes.” I said softly. The fingers stilled on my foot.

“Only sometimes?” He teased, eyes narrowed and tone just a little colder and I hesitated.

“I don’t miss him when you keep me company. You help me forget that I’m doing all of this by myself.” I said honestly. Jungkook inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking to mine, holding mine with an intensity that made me balk a little.

“You mean, that?” He asked quietly and I laughed at how serious he looked.

“Of course I do. I was so sure this whole thing would be me being miserably lonely but you’ve kept me laughing and happy. I’m going to ask Namjoon to buy you something expensive and amazing when he comes back.”

“He already has something amazing. It’s the only thing I really want.” Jungkook said quietly, fingers stroking up, gently massaging my foot all the way up my calf. I groaned at how good it felt.

“Really what is it?” I asked curious.

Jungkook squeezed my knee before carefully placing my foot down , reaching for the other one.

“You’ll know soon, Hana.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word, Namjoon called me exactly a month before our wedding date.

“Guess who’s leaving the God forsaken place this weekend?”

I felt warmth flood my insides, heart racing with pure joy, tears brimming over because I’d honestly resigned myself to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it back on time.

“Monday i, I’ll be there. Can’t wait to kiss you, my love.” He whispered and I nodded, laughing.

Finally, Everything would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon’s flight was due to arrive late night ,somewhere between twelve and one in the morning. I’d taken a nap in the afternoon, so I could be up to welcome him back. Jungkook arrived at around seven with Takeout and flowers.

He didn’t ring the doorbell, letting himself in with the spare key I’d given him for emergencies. I found myself scrambling for my robe because I’d taken a nice long shower and slipped on a silk negligee, short and ending just over my knees . I could feel his eyes on me as I hastily tied the sash together, flustered. The robe wasn’t long either and I felt absolutely exposed, even worse than when he’d stepped into the dressing room during my fitting, offering to help me with the zipper.

“ Jungkook, what are you doing here?” I asked nervously and he shrugged, eyes still trailing over my legs, the skin bare. I felt his gaze like a caress and some instinct told me I was in danger. I shook my head to clear it. How ridiculous.

This was Jungkook. Sweet, wonderful Jungkookie. My best friend these past few months. There was no one else I could be safer with.

“I knew you’d be excited, what with hyung coming back and all. So, I thought I’d drop by and at least make sure you’re well fed.” He grinned, holding the tae out up. I smiled and nodded, moving to get plates and glasses from the kitchen.

I heard Jungkook moving around in the living room and when I went back in , I found that he had two glasses of wine ready on the table, an expensive bottle of merlot opened nearby. I smiled a bit, shaking my head.

“What are we celebrating?” I asked curiously and he shrugged.

“Namjoon hyung is coming back right? It means I’ll be getting my amazing gift tonight.” He said softly, picking his glass up and taking a sip and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re such a child. You can’t wait for a day to get your gift?”

Jungkook hummed. He looked ethereal in the dim golden light of the apartment. Like something out of a fairytale. All dark ebony hair and porcelain skin. I wondered, again….why he never dated. He was easily one of the most beautiful humans I’d ever seen in my life. And that voice.

The voice of an angel.

“I’ve been waiting for years, Hana. I’m sick and tired of waiting.” He said softly, voice low and eyes somehow dark and I tried to hold my smile.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” I grinned and he smiled, all teeth.

“Oh, I intend to. Thoroughly.”

I took my own glass and took a deep sip , before holding it against his.

“To no longer waiting and finally getting what we want.” I said cheerfully, thinking of the long months without Namjoon and the few hours till he would be back in my arms. Jungkook chuckled and clinked his glass against mine.

“To you, Hana.” He said simply and I blushed, surprised and flattered.

We ate the take out but just a few bites in, I felt my eyes getting heavy which was so unfair. It was barely eight. And I’d slept in the afternoon. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be up till Namjoon came home.

“You alright, love?” Jungkook asked sweetly , getting out of his chair and making his way over when I almost knocked the glass of water over, fingers trembling. I pouted, even as his fingers curled over my shoulders, gripping lightly.

“Why am I so drowsy?” I whined in desperation and he leaned down, lightly resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You need to rest, hana. Come on, let’s get you to bed…. “

Eyes heavy and limbs turning to jelly, I could barely blink as he reached down and scooped me into his arms , carrying me into the bedroom. I felt his fingers tug on the sash of my robe, a protest building up at the action but he shushed me gently.

“I’m just helping you out of this, Hana. Rest now… Namjoon hyung will be here soon and we have a long night ahead of us, you and I.”

I could feel my mind churn at that, confusion warring with apprehension because why was Jungkook inserting himself in tonight? What did he have to do with Namjoon and I ?

Sleep beckoned and I found myself slipping into the darkness before I could fully ponder on his words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up sweaty and damp , body overheated and my head foggy. I made to move and felt my heart pound when I realized my hands were tied up to the headboard. I blinked, only to be met with darkness because there was something tied around my eye as well.

“Jungkook?!” I called out panicking and there was a low chuckle.

And then a very familiar scent.

Namjoon.

I sagged in relief.

“Joon…it’s you….” I breathed out . “ Come on, do we really have to do this right away? I wanna see you…” I whispered desperately.

Fingers brushed over my ankle and I jumped.

“Namjoon?” I whispered . The bed dipped next to me, and I felt the brush of his shirt against my bare arm. It was soft and silky , familiar because I’d bought it for him for his birthday and he’d sent me a pic of him wearing it, from the airport today.

“Okay… I’ll play.” I laughed softly. “ Just untie me… I wanna touch you..”

“Sshhh…..” A finger pressed against my lip and I startled. Throat dry, I gulped.

But I didn’t say anything, biting my lips nervously as I felt him climb over me, one knee on either side of mine, fingers curling on my thighs, lips pressing against my cheek. I sighed, relishing the soft press of his lips, up and down my neck, the damp wetness of his tongue as he licked the skin right after, teeth nipping gently and then with more force.

I trembled as soft fingers tugged on my negligee tugging the fabric up and away from my body, raising it up till it pooled near my chest. I felt the tug on my panties, yanking the fabric off and then the weight of him went away, a breathy exhale that sounded both calm and somehow desperate, his body moving down to lightly hold my knees, parting my legs.

I bent my knees, spreading my thighs the way he clearly wanted me to, hearing him groan in return. He used his thumbs to gently part the damp folds of my centre and I felt my entire body shudder at the press of his tongues against the most intimate parts of me.

Choking, I could only lay there and take it, his tongue licking the slick folds, over and over again with an almost curious insistence, like he was tasting me for the first time and I could feel his body trembling on the bed as he did. I felt his teeth tug on the hardened nub, bruising hard and yet somehow almost playful and cheeky and I found myself squirming in pleasure, wetness seeping out of me .

The tip of his finger found my slit, running up and done the length of it in a slow, gentle caress, gathering the moisture there and I trembled when he reached my clit, gently rubbing circles on the little bundle before moving back down to trace my entrance. I was so wet, getting wetter by the second and I’d never wanted to be fucked so bad.

“Please…..baby… I want you ….in me…” I choked out and he chuckled, a little mischievous and unlike him.

The finger dipped in, shallow and barely in and I whimpered in desperation.

“More.. Please…. I want more.. Want you… Its been so long…”

I felt him move back at that and then he was there, right between my legs. I felt the clink of metal as he unbuckled himself, the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric as he pushed his trousers off. I could feel the hard muscles of his thigh against the back of mine as he scooted closer, felt the brush of his hard length against my center, the head dipping in just lightly.

He pushed forward, driving in with so much force that my entire body shuddered in shock. And in just that second, I knew, with dawning horror…….

This was not Namjoon.

I screamed, so loud my own ears rang and a palm pressed down into my mouth, forceful and unrelenting. And terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“Hana…” Jungkook’s voice near my ear made me choke on my tears, my mind splintering in shock and betrayal, body going rigid in terror as he pulled out , only to slide back in.

“Knew it would be worth it, keeping myself pure for you….” He crooned against my skin and I whimpered, wetness spilling over my eyelashes as I tried to squirm away, my mind body and soul only screaming for the man I loved.

“Don’t worry about anything ….Hyung’s in a better place now. “ Jungkook chuckled deeply and I felt my skin go ice cold at the implication. He moved his hand away and I coughed, choking.

“Jungkook….”

The blind fold came off and he kept pumping into me, hips moving erratically, no rhythm or grace and it was obvious he’d never done this before, obvious in the way he looked : blissed out and feral, eyes unfocused as he stared down at me. I felt him tremble and shake, before going still . I felt warm wetness flood my insides and bile rose, nausea making breathing difficult. He stayed on me and inside me, his body so large and immovable, heavy and suffocating over my own.

“what are you doing Jungkookie?” I sobbed out in disbelief and he glared at me.

“What does it fucking look like I’m doing? I’m taking what I fucking deserve….” He snarled. “ Two fucking years…. He doesn’t deserve you. Spends all his days and nights holed up in that studio of his with his friends….leaves you to fend for yourself. You deserve to be waited on, hand and foot… you deserve the world, hana…and he wouldn’t let you experience any of it. Fucking bastard….

“No… No.. God …no..” I choked out. It was the shirt.

He was wearing Namjoon’s shirt. And his cologne. The shirt I knew my boyfriend had been wearing today. How did he get it??

Jungkook brushed his fingers on my cheeks .

“What’s wrong baby? Are you worried about him? Wondering where he is…” He chuckled. “ I told you..he’s in a better place right now..”

“No… you’re lying..you wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I? You know me that well , hana?” He teased.

No. No I didn’t I didn’t know him at all.

“How about this? If you marry me…. If you let me have this dream wedding with my dream girl…. “ He smirked,” If you let me love you the way you deserve , maybe I’ll take you to visit him…someday. ”

I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t process what I’d just heard… I didn’t know… if he was bluffing. What if he had actually killed-

I couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t. It would break me.

“Okay… Just…please don’t hurt him…” I whispered.

Jungkook smiled.

“Just relax Hana. Everything’s going to be okay.”

AUTHORS NOTE : THIS IS LITERALLY MY FIRST TIME WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS PURELY OUT OF IDLE CURIOSITY

~~~~~~~~~~~

#YANDERE JUNGKOOK #YANDERE BTS #yandere jungkook smut #bts smut

470 notes · View notes

dangerouslyallaboutdraco · 3 years

Note

Could you write a Draco Malfoy x Slytherin !Potter!reader. Y/N and Draco have been dating since first year but haven’t told anyone because people think she might be the only “good slytherin” and to prevent Harry from freaking out they stay quiet till the Quitage World Cup where she goes with Draco and his father and spent the summer with them rather than the weasles . Pansy and Blaise know about Y/N and Draco because the 4 of them became best friends through the years (and reader won’t be only friends with Harry’s friends) . Harry and Y/N get into an argument when they return to Hogwarts the summer of the Triwizard cup and how she’s a traitor (EVEN tho that’s her house) and a disgrace for being with him. So she accepted that and that he hates her so she spends the next year mainly with her house giving the trio the cold shoulder and when the war happened draco and his mother protected her and hid her so Harry was looking for her that time but she was gon so after the war the 4 (Draco Pansy and blasé) walk into the great hall and the golden trio see that Y/N is engaged to Draco and Harry just apologizes and they catch up after all those years.

The Potter Twins

A/n: This has got to be one of the best requests I've ever seen anyone answer. I'm so gratefully you asked me to write it!! Thank you. Also, I did use lines from the book just to make the story work. I could have probably written a whole series so this is very long, I'm sorry. @loxbbg

"Y/n Potter." Professor McGonagall's shrill voice boomed. Just like that, the whole school's attention was on Y/n.

So many students, so much older than her, all focused on her. Probably, she had only just discovered, because of her last name.

The girl and the boy who lived. Apparently, they were famous.

On their 11th birthday, she hadn't expected a giant wizard man to come and whisk the twins away from the horrible Dursleys. But, he was nice and he knew their parents.

Y/n was always treated better than Harry. Aunt Petunia seemed to love her more, even letting her have a big bedroom.

Hagrid, she found out, had taken them shopping and brought them ice cream. While she thought it was all a hallucination when she was able to run through a wall, she knew something strange was happening.

After that, she had met a redhead, Ron. He was dorky but kind to the siblings. And, he seemed to know a lot about the wizarding world.

Y/n took a few tentative steps before sitting on the stool. She was hyperaware of the fact everyone was watching, not able to keep the blush off her cheeks.

The heavy hat was draped onto her head, weighing her down.

"Hmm, the other Potter. You would do good in Gryffindor." The hat whispered to her, making her widen her eyes. She hadn't expected it to talk. It was an object. How could it possibly talk?

Y/n was amazed at the whole thing. It still felt like a dream. The great hall was phenomenal, and she couldn't wait to explore the castle. It was unreal.

Y/n flicked her eyes to her brother. He was already sitting at the Gryffindor table, smiling at her. She hoped she would get to be with him, even though she didn't grasp the house concept. Plus, he was near the other girl, Hermione.

Hermione seemed to know a lot about wizards, and Y/n wanted to be informed. It was like she had finally discovered her missing part.

"I remember your parents. I think you could do just like them." The hat continued. Y/n kept hoping. Hoping she wouldn't go without Harry. The thought of her parents made her heartache, she knew so little about them, but she had heard so much about them in the last few days.

"Slytherin!" The hat roared. Y/n's eyes instantly widened, looking frantically at her brother. How was it possible? The hat had decided she would do good in Gryffindor. She wanted to be with her brother and Ron and Hermione.

Just like that, the hat was off her head. Y/n was speechless as she wandered over to the Slytherin table. Somehow, they all looked mean.

She hadn't noticed who she sat next to until the boy spoke. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He introduced himself, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Y/n Potter." Y/n introduced, despite knowing he already knew.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson." A girl with short black hair interrupted their conversation. "We're going to be sleeping in the same dorm, do you want to be friends?" She asked. A picture of confidence.

Y/n didn't know what to do but nod. "Yeah."

"Now shove off, Parkinson. We're talking." Draco interrupted the girls.

Y/n looked concerned at Pansy, but she didn't look offended at all. "Don't worry. Dracie and I have been friends since we were kids. He doesn't mean it." She reassured the girl, noticing her surprised look. The nickname made Y/n giggle, recognising the look on Draco's face as disgust.

"We're not friends." Draco joked, stoic face. Pansy hit him on the arm.

Y/n liked them already. She could tell they would be good friends. Plus, they filled the gap she was missing, not having Harry next to her.

Harry managed to get a chance to talk to Y/n after the feast. He quickly wrapped her in his arms, comforting his sister.

"I'm sorry we're not in the same house," Y/n told him, feeling guilty.

Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault. It's that weird hat's."

"It's strange, isn't it?" Y/n giggled, not feeling like crying anymore. "I don't know what so much of this means." She continued, feeling nervous about the whole situation.

"I know." Harry agreed with a nod. "We'll get through it together. I just want to know more about mum and dad, and it's good if we don't have to stay with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon." Y/n nodded to that. They were horrible people. "We should go to our rooms now. It'll be okay." He comforted her.

She gave him another quick hug. "Thanks, Harry." She told him before turning around to walk off.

"Wait, Y/n!" Harry called, she spun back around to face him. "I've heard Malfoy is bad news, be careful." He warned. Y/n nodded, reassuring him she'd be cautious.

She didn't believe it, though, as she skipped off to the common room.

It was only a week into classes when Y/n figured out not everyone at Hogwarts was nicer than the Dursley's. Mainly Professor Snape. For no reason, he seemed to hate Harry. They dissected it later in Hagrid's cottage.

"'S 'cause yeh look like yer mum." Hagrid offered as an explanation. That confused the twins and Ron, who came with them. Hagrid sighed, realising he had to explain it. "Snape loved her, way back, but she married yer dad. He couldn' stand yer dad. Anyway, tha''s all history now. Unfortunately, he's one to hold a grudge. Don' let it bother yeh." He told the children.

Harry just sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, I'm used to Dudley, anyway." He figured Hogwarts was a lot better than the Dursley's house.

"What about yeh, Y/n, how's Slytherin? They're not pickin' on yeh?" Hagrid asked, switched his attention to the small girl.

"It's alright. I've made lots of friends." Y/n had actually had a rather good week. She'd befriended Pansy and a girl named Daphne. As well as Draco, with who she was very close. That was just in her house. Somehow, she'd managed to sit next to Hermione in a class, Lavender too, and a girl named Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff.

"Good." Hagrid nodded. "Yeh best be off now." He told them, taking the last sip of his drink.

The 3 of them nodded, getting up and leaving the cottage.

"You know, we've got our first flying lesson next week?" Ron asked the twins, trying to brighten the mood. He could tell they were both thinking about their parents.

Y/n did know. Draco had talked about it nonstop. He was beyond excited.

Harry nodded as well. "I'm not sure I'm going to be any good." He mentioned, lightly blushing.

"I'm sure you'll both be fine. It is in your blood." Ron told them. Y/n and Harry both looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused about what he meant. However, he didn't elaborate.

Y/n went to watch Harry's first Quidditch practise, despite him telling her not to. He said it was a waste of time when it was just practice. But she was extremely proud of him. She knew their parents would be proud too.

So she hid in the Slytherin bleaches, hoping Harry wouldn't spot her.

It was slightly chilly, the night wind whipping at her skin. That's when she felt the drape on a coat on her shoulder.

Y/n whipped her head around to see who it was, only to be met with the blonde's features. She definitely had a bit of a crush on him. He was cute and the first boy who had ever paid her attention.

Draco took a seat next to her, giving her a smile. "Hi." He whispered.

"Hi, Dray." It was a nickname she had quickly picked up, noticing how it made him blush. "You don't have to sit out here." She assured him.

"I want to," Draco confirmed.

Y/n knew he was jealous. Draco had done nothing but talk about how much he loved Quidditch. And Harry, who he thought was a blood traitor, had gotten all his success. So it was big that he wanted to sit with her.

They watched in silence before Draco spoke. "Did you know Pansy is dating Blaise?" He asked her.

Y/n shook her head rapidly. "I thought she liked you."

Draco stuck his tongue out in disgust. "No, I hope not. I did have a question though..." He trailed off, cheeks heating pink. He was bouncing his knee up and down nervously.

Y/n had never seen him like that. "What is it?" She asked.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Draco asked hesitantly. Y/n immediately nodded, accepting the offer. She had never felt happier and more relieved.

"Of course, Dray." She agreed immediately his face relaxed. Y/n reached over and laced her fingers in his, not concerned about how sweaty his palms were. "We can't tell Harry though." She suddenly realised, remembering her brother's words. Draco had never been kind to any of the Gryffindor's, despite them being her friends.

Draco nodded. "Okay." He accepted. Y/n was very thankful he agreed to her request.

3rd year was the most stressful yet, for Y/n. She and Draco were still secretly dating, much to Blaise and Pansy's surprise. They couldn't believe how long it had lasted. But Y/n and Draco were drawn to each other, as friends and lovers.

Summer break was also difficult for Y/n. Aunt Marge's visit had ruined the twins birthday. On top of that, apparently, a psychotic wizard had escaped. The Dursley's didn't understand what that would mean. But Y/n and Harry saw just what dark magic could do to Ginny Weasly last year. It was devastating and powerful.

Y/n ran away with Harry when he blew up Aunt Marge. Aunt Petunia had started being much meaner to her, the older she got. While Y/n didn't know Lily, she thought it might have been the reason Aunt Petunia started shunning her.

So, she stayed at the leaky cauldron with Harry. It was the first time she felt happy to not have parents, there were no rules.

Y/n was hiding something. All the letter her owl, Edwige, was bringing her. All from Draco. She figured Harry was too tied up in his own life to think anything was odd. He probably assumed it was Hermione.

The whole train ride all Harry, Ron and Hermione wanted to talk about was terrifying Sirius Black who was trying to murder the twins.

The train's sudden stop frightened Y/n. As the compartment grew cold, she thought it was Sirius, there to kill them. When the Dementor's bony fingers slide open the door, her heart raced, almost beating out of her chest.

This was it. She was going to die from a faceless ghost. It started to suck the life out of Harry and she froze, not knowing how to help her brother.

Thankfully, the cloaked figure in the corner sprung up, scaring the spirit away.

Y/n rushed to get to Harry, but he had already fainted. He was dazed and confused when he woke, Lupin, as Y/n had come to known, handing him some chocolate.

Once Lupin had re-explained what happened, to Harry, he left.

The Potter twins connection let Y/n feel the fear Harry was in, despite being the braver.

Y/n was more than happy to get off the train, being able to sit next to her boyfriend. The Gryffindor table couldn't see them, so they were free to subtly hold hands.

It didn't feel the same that year. Draco was much darker and meaner. He was mean to Hermione and Hagrid, two of Y/n's companions. She didn't understand it.

Their relationship issues came to a head on the date of Buckbeaks execution. Draco and Y/n didn't agree on the situation but it got worse as she roamed the castle with Harry, Hermione and Ron.

As soon as Y/n saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle hiding behind that rock she knew today was going to be her breaking point. She didn't understand why he couldn't just shut his mouth and not say anything.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he’s supposed to be our teacher!" The look on his face was pure disgust. His eyes flicked up to meet Y/n's, not back down from the remarks he'd made as she stared him down.

It was then she realised it. He cared more about maintaining his arrogant reputation than he did his own girlfriend. The thought broke her heart.

Harry and Ron both marched to him, with Hermione one step ahead. Y/n awkwardly stood there, not knowing how to come between her secret boyfriend and friends.

Hermione got to him first, landing a solid punch to his nose. It was as hard as she could, landing a solid sound.

Draco stumbled back, Crabbe and Goyle rushing to hold him up. He gave Y/n a final look as he ran past her.

Y/n's eyes were already filling with tears. Hermione noticed. "Are you alright?" She asked.

She quickly thought up a lie. "I'm sorry... It's just all of this with Buckbeard is difficult. Can you tell Hagrid I'm really sorry?" She stuttered out, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

They all brought the lie, Harry wrapping her in a hug before they walked off. She stood there and cried for a few minutes, all alone. Like no one in the world cared about her.

It quickly turned to anger, her blood boiling. She stormed off to the Slytherin common room, knowing Draco was too proud to go to the hospital wing.

She found him there, on the couch, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

"I can't believe Granger," Draco exclaimed, not noticing Y/n. "She's a filthy mudblood I could easily get expelled."

"Tell your father." Goyle prompted. Crabbe and Goyle were the best henchmen, dumb and wanting to cause trouble.

"Goyle, Crabbe, I need to speak to Malfoy," Y/n announced. They didn't understand what she meant. "Alone." They finally understood, scurrying out of the room.

Draco didn't look concerned, his eyes challenging her. "What do you want? Hanging out with your idiot twin, that poor, blood traitor Weaslbee and mudblood Granger." He was just as pissed as Y/n was. Maybe, it was the anger for Granger he was taking out on Y/n.

She couldn't hide it anymore. "We're done." She told him. "I cannot be with you when you hate everyone that loves me."

"Fine." Draco shrugged. "I don't care."

That was the last thing Y/n heard from him as she stormed to her dorm room, a sobbing mess. Pansy quickly wrapped her in a hug, not needing to know what happened.

It was the end of term before Y/n even looked in Draco's direction again. She spent all those nights silently sobbing. The slight silver lining was she had gotten much closer to Harry, Hermione and Ron, no longer spending hours with Draco.

He'd trapped her when she was alone in the bleachers, just like he did on their first week.

He didn't place a jacket on her, rather some sunglasses. "Hi." He murmured, hesitantly sitting next to her. Draco was sure Y/n hated him.

"Hey." She replied. The truth was, she missed him. Draco was a part of her, they had grown up in love. They were never meant to fall out of it.

"Enjoying your last day?" Draco asked awkwardly. They felt like they were back in their first year, acting self-consciously.

She nodded, not interested in his small talk. "Yeah, I'm all packed as well." She still refused to look at him.

"I'm sorry." It came tumbling out like he didn't know how to say it. That made her turn her attention to him.

Y/n couldn't help but love him. She never wanted to break up, ever. "Me too." She replied.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. He just looked so precious.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Draco asked, the question was phrased differently this time but it still reminded her of the shy first year.

"Yes." Y/n agreed. She had never known heartbreak like being without Draco.

"Also... I want it to be real this time." That made Y/n worry. She didn't want Harry to find out yet. There was no one Harry hated more. "Will you stay with us these holidays? And come to the Quidditch World Cup?" He asked shyly. That was the bashful boy she adored.

So far, Y/n's plans were to go to the Durley's. She'd just lie to them and say she was staying with Pansy. They wouldn't care because they didn't love her.

'Yes." Y/n told him. "I'm terrified to meet your parents." She admitted.

Draco took her hand in his. "Love, you have nothing to worry about." He assured her. In truth, he also had doubts about his father. Y/n was a Potter.

Once they left the bleachers, Y/n went to see Harry. The trio was in the courtyard.

"Oh Y/n, we were looking for you." Ron pipped up as she took a seat next to them. She tried to not blush too much. "Do you want to come to the Quidditch World Cup with us?" He asked. Uh oh.

"I'm really sorry. I told Pansy I'd go with her family." Y/n lied once again. She felt terrible doing it but she had to. Plus, they weren't going to find out.

"That's fine. Are staying with her the whole summer?" Harry asked. Y/n hated to have to nod. She knew they were keeping a brave face on but they were disappointed.

Y/n's lie worked. She made it to out of the station with Draco without anyone seeing.

They got in the car and, from there, they travelled to the manor. It was fabulous. Better than she could ever imagine. Pointed towers and perfectly done gardens, she was in another world.

"Hey, it'll be okay," Draco assured her, taking his hand in hers as they made it to the door. She had already met their house-elf, who carried the bags.

Draco knocked on the door, trying to seem brave. Narcissa swung it open, arms wide open to pull Draco in. Y/n admired how close they were. She had seen Narcissa once before when she came to see Draco. They weren't introduced but Y/n admired how elegant she looked.

"Y/n Potter, right?" Narcissa asked once she had let her boy go.

"Yes, Mrs Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you." Y/n politely said.

Narcissa giggled, shaking her head. "Don't be silly, you can call me Narcissa." She said before opening her arms up for the girl. She hugged for just as long as she hugged Draco, making Y/n feel very comfortable.

Lucius walked over, making Y/n's heart race.

"Draco." He greeted his son with a handshake, much less warm than his mother.

Then he turned to Y/n, staring down his nose at her. She had never felt as small. "You must be Y/n Potter?" He held out his hand.

"Yes, sir," Y/n replied, shaking his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lucius just scowled. Narcissa interrupted the tension. "Come, kids, we can talk in the living room." Just like that, she was part of the family.

The Malfoy tent at the Quidditch world cup was impressive. It was grand and dark like the manor.

Her summer with Draco was the best of her life, not that the others were much to compare to. Narcissa was the kindest woman she'd ever know. When she realised Y/n's birthday was the 31st of July, she insisted on throwing a large party.

She let Y/n pick out all the decorations, taking her on a shopping spree to Diagon Alley. Then, they had a spa day and afternoon tea party with Pansy and Daphne and some of Narcissa's friends. As much as she wanted to, Y/n figured it wasn't right to invite Hermione and Ginny.

That night, they had dinner out with the girls, Draco, Theo and Blaise. It was the best day of her life. It only got better when a massive cake was wheeled out, and a cart for of gifts. She was sure it was more than Dudley had ever gotten.

Draco's was the most special. It was a necklace, a traditional Black family one. On it was their initials.

Y/n made sure to stay in contact with Harry, but things had started to slip. She figured he was just busy but she missed him, and their other friends.

It was difficult for Y/n to get along with Lucius, knowing how close he was to Voldemort, the man who was trying to kill her. Somehow, they just didn't talk about it.

"Are you ready to go?" Draco asked, adjusting his black blazer. She couldn't believe how good he looked, a full black suit. His blonde hair parted in the middle. He had grown into his looks majorly over the summer.

"Yeah." Y/n nodded, putting her last earing in. They were a gift from Narcissa, real emeralds. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach she was trying to shake off as anticipation.

"Okay, Mum has already gone to our box. We're going in with my Father." He told her, walking over to grab her hand. Physical contact was something the couple had gotten used to. It was no longer awkward.

Y/n took his hand, lacing their fingers as they walked out of the tent. Draco was taller than her now, he hadn't been in first year. His slim thumb traced over her knuckles mindlessly.

Lucius didn't seem to mind the two of them being so close. The sky had darkened, and the crowds were already cheering. While Y/n had never been to a muggle sports game, she thought this was better. It was noisy but spectacular.

Draco and Y/n talked as they walked, him occasionally bumping into her shoulder. It always made her giggle.

When she heard Lucius' cruel voice, she looked back at him. He was looking up. Y/n followed his eye line. The Weasley's. Hermione. Harry.

Her brain stopped working, and she froze. The look on Harry's face was pure fury. He was looking between her and Draco rapidly, but it was obvious. They were holding hands, and they had just been giggling together.

Those smiles were long gone. The atmosphere had immediately blackened.

Lucius' threat to Harry made her wince. Harry didn't even look bothered, just furious at her. Betrayed. It physically hurt her, and she gripped Draco's hand.

The Weasley group turned to walk off so did Lucius. Draco pulled Y/n closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry. It'll be okay. Harry will calm down." Draco told her. She just hoped it was true. Harry didn't like to be deceived, and she had lied so much. Plus, Draco was never nice to Harry, Hermione and Ron. They probably hated her by association. "My father really shouldn't have said that." He grimaced. That's made her confident in her decision. Draco had changed.

Y/n nodded, trying to choke back the tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah, I know."

Draco stopped in the middle of the bridge. He took her face in his hands. "Hey, I love you." He reminded her before leaning down to kiss her. It was soft and filled her back up with warmth, making the chilling look Harry had sent her go away. She just hoped Harry still loved her.

Y/n tried to put Harry in the back of her mind the rest of the break. She did write him a few letters, but he didn't reply.

Harry was too busy to talk to Y/n on the first day of school. She hoped Hermione and Ron weren't giving her the cold shoulder, but they did.

So she spent the welcome feast with Pansy and Daphne. And, of course, her boyfriend.

He confronted her on the second day of school.

Y/n was in the courtyard when Draco and Harry had their quarrel. She always knew Draco was short-tempered, but she couldn't believe the things he was saying to Harry about their mother.

Y/n's shock grew when Harry spat back, knocking Narcissa. He didn't know her like she did. Narcissa had been nothing but kind to Y/n. That was when she knew she couldn't let Harry get away with it.

"Harry!" Y/n yelled, his attention flicked to her. His eyes were even more outraged than they were with Draco.

"What do you want, traitor?" Harry demanded, his voice was angry too.

"You can't say those things about Narcissa," Y/n demanded. Now she knew how mad Draco felt. Her jaw was clenched like her fits. "And, I'm not a traitor. I'm a Slytherin, that wasn't my choice."

Harry rolled his eyes and huffed. "You're sickening. Did you not hear what he said about our mother!?" He lectured her. "I don't know how you could be with someone so vile."

"Draco isn't who you think he is." Y/n defended. Draco loved her. He'd never given up on her like Harry had.

"He hates you!" Harry spat. He was closer to her now, towering over her. She had never seen anyone that mad. "You're not a Potter. You don't belong in our family." He said so lowly it made her shiver.

Harry was so close she thought he was going to hit her. That's when Draco jumped in the middle of the twins, pushing Harry back and shielding Y/n.

"Watch it, Potter." Draco threatened, glaring down at Harry. He was only an inch taller.

Harry scoffed, fists clench, ready for a fight. He looked around Draco, at Y/n. "Mum and Dad would have despised you. You're just like all those other awful Slytherins. I don't understand how you could be with someone as low as Malfoy." His words sat deep in her heart, and he didn't stop them from coming. "You're not a Potter." With that, he left, not looking back.

Y/n immediately burst out in tears. She couldn't stop it. Draco spun around to her, holding her so she wouldn't collapse.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay." Draco told her, wrapping her in his arms so tightly. He just held her. "You know they would be proud of you, Y/n. You're so strong and clever." He comforted her, his hands stroking her back.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I'm a Slytherin. They were all brave Gryffindors." She choked out.

"It doesn't matter what house you're in. You're so kind and talented." Draco reassured her. His heart was breaking, seeing his girlfriend in such a bad state. All he wanted to do was stop her from hurting. "I know how important Harry is to you. We can take a break until this all blows over." He reassured her.

Y/n shook her head, clinging to her chest. "No, no, please, Dray." She said as she cried out. "You're the last good thing I have left."

"Baby." He cooed, tracing her cheekbones. "I'll never leave you." He promised.

Draco stayed true to his word. He supported her throughout the whole year. Y/n was always worried for Harry. Despite the shunning, he inflicted on her.

It didn't stop with Harry. Y/n lost half of her friends that day. Hermione, the Weasley's and most muggle-borns refused to talk to her. She was always so kind that it troubled her.

Draco took her to the Yule ball, naturally. She saw Harry that night. They even made eye contact, but he didn't comment on her forest green dress. It matched her eyes perfectly, though, and Harry couldn't stop thinking about one photo of his mother he'd seen. They looked so similar.

She spent the Christmas break at the Malfoy's, receiving a sweater from Molly Weasley. That meant the world to her, despite none of them speaking to her.

When they got back to Hogwarts, Y/n figured out how irrelevant she was to Harry. Ron was the one that was taken for the second task. Everyone noticed. Not his own twin, his friend.

Y/n still remained close with Sirius. They wrote letters to each other throughout the year. He knew how worried she was about Harry.

The truth was, Sirius felt bad, James and Lily were his best friends and he knew they'd be disappointed to see the twins split up. Sirius was also worried for Y/n, he knew what it was like being part of the Black family.

He had hatched a few plans to get them to talk, but none worked. Not due to Y/n's lack of trying.

The third task was the worst thing Y/n had been through at Hogwarts. She could feel something bad was happening to Harry. When he came back through the portkey, she saw it. And it was distressing.

Voldermort was reborn, whether everyone believed it or not. Y/n could feel it was true.

5th year was exciting.

Y/n celebrated her 15th birthday before it started. This time, they had dinner with her friends. She didn't write to Harry.

Sirius sent her gifts, and he was starting to ask whether Narcissa was okay.

Just after her birthday, in August, Draco Malfoy and Y/n Potter were made prefects. They both read the letters at the breakfast table.

Narcissa was overjoyed for both of them.

At 11am, on the 1st of September, they got on the train to Hogwarts.

The rest of that year went on normally, apart from Umbridge's rules.

Christmas break was a sign that a darker power was brewing. Y/n heard the whispers under the door and she assumed the other side of the war also had meetings.

Y/n was shocked when Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban. After the Umbridge drama died down, they had to sit their O.W.L.s. That was rough.

One terrible day of June was Sirius' last. Y/n cried in Draco's arms for days over the death. She always thought Sirius was the only person who was going to be able to reunite the twins. And now he was gone.

Y/n knew something was very wrong during the summer. Draco told her he was a death eater. They cried about it together all night. The weeks following were stressful, and they weren't even back at Hogwarts. The war had started.

Draco and Narcissa kept Y/n hidden from Lucius' guests. O.W.L results were the first good thing that summer.

Y/n's 16th birthday was smaller than her last. Y/n, Draco, Pansy, Blaise and Theo were all hyperaware of the dementor attacks.

That weekend, they visited Diagon Alley with Narcissa. Y/n was at Draco's side the whole time, unfortunately, that meant she had a run-in with Harry and the Weasleys. It was awkward, to say the least. Her own twin still wouldn't acknowledge her.

Draco's task started at the beginning of the year. Y/n was the only one who knew about it, besides Snape.

Then Christmas, with even more death eater meetings. Y/n barely saw Draco. Narcissa had made her promise to take care of him, but it was difficult to get him to eat.

Draco continued his task during the second semester. Y/n knew that Harry knew about Draco. Their twin insight gave him the power to just know things.

It was getting difficult between Y/n and Draco. They didn't talk as honestly as they used to. He wanted to protect her. And she knew he needed to open up.

One day in May, Y/n rushed to see Draco in the hospital wing, concerned about how he could have gotten there. Did something go wrong with the vanishing cabinet?

"Draco!" She cried as she saw him lying on a hospital bed looking pale.

Draco waved at her, a little smile on his face.

"Potter." Snape hissed, looking down at the girl. Y/n didn't care he was there as she wrapped her arms around Draco. Snape was nicer to Y/n this year, which she didn't understand.

From a photo Sirius had given her, she knew she looked more like Lily than ever. She always kept the picture near her. It was the Potter parents holding up their twins, smiling.

"He's fine," Snape told her. "As for your brother, he's going to be in huge trouble." He continued before walking out of the hospital wing.

"What happened?" Y/n demanded, holding Draco's face in her hands. His cheekbones were more prominent now, and his eyes were more overcast.

Draco playfully huffed. "I was, uh, in the bathroom. Potter came in and used the bloody Sectumsempra spell on me." He complained, his eyes now angrier. She couldn't believe Harry would do something like that. But, then again, she didn't really know him.

Y/n noticed the way his voice faded when he talked about where he was. "Why were you in the bathroom?" She knew him well enough to push for an answer."

"Uh, talking." Draco offered an explanation. It wasn't good enough for Y/n to accept.

"To who?" She asked.

Draco groaned, rolling his eyes. He finally gave in. "Fine, I was crying to Moaning Myrtle." He admitted. His cheeks were pink with blush and he looked guilty.

"Dray." Y/n cooed, reaching down to hold his hand. "You can talk to me about anything you need to, any time." She assured him.

Draco nodded, thankfully. "He's going to get detention for the rest of the year." He told her, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

Narcissa was one of the last people Y/n expected to see walk into the Hospital Wing. She was in a black pantsuit.

"Mother." Draco greeted her, trying to move in the bed to get up.

"Stay put, you," Narcissa told him with a smile. She walked right over and hugged Y/n. "Are you okay?" She asked. Y/n just nodded. She knew a storm was brewing, but nothing had happened yet. It was only a matter of time. Then she turned to Draco. "Are you?" She asked him.

Draco already had a witty reply, clearly feeling like himself again. "Aside from my own mother preferring my girlfriend to me." He complained, a faux pout on his face.

Narcissa just rolled her eyes, like mother like son. "I can't help it. You get into too much trouble." She told him with a pointed look.

Draco scoffed. "Wasn't my fault." He complained quietly. The girls just gave him a look he knew too well. "Honestly, what are you doing here?" He asked. When Narcissa widened her eyes, he followed the question up with a statement. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you."

"I've actually come for Y/n." She explained.

Both Y/n and Draco looked at her in shock. "What? Why?" Y/n asked, most concerned.

Narcissa looked to Draco who sighed out an 'oh' and then back to Y/n before speaking. "You know about the cabinet." Y/n nodded. "They need it. The Death Eaters. To get into Hogwarts." That made Y/n worry. They weren't coming in to have dinner.

"You don't know this." Draco started, making Y/n's attention turn to him. "My task is to kill Dumbledore." Y/n's mouth gawked open. She could feel her hands shaking. More than anything, she couldn't believe someone would make a kid do that.

Narcissa grimaced. "It's all about to start." Y/n didn't need to ask what 'it' was. "So I'm taking Y/n away." She told them.

"Wait... for how long?" Draco asked quickly, gripping her hand.

"Draco, you sit in those meetings," Narcissa told him. "You know the plan is for them to take over the Ministry of Magic and persecute muggle-borns." That made Y/n wince. "It's not safe for Y/n to stay at Hogwarts, don't be silly about this." She strictly told him.

Draco sighed but nodded. He knew Narcissa was always right. "Can I still see her?" He asked, now thinking rationally. Y/n didn't like that she didn't have any say in the matter.

"Yes." At least there was that. "No one is going to know where she is apart from Lucius, you and I," Narcissa told them.

"Do I get any say in this?" Y/n finally spat out.

Narcissa turned her attention to Y/n with a pleading look. "You know we have to."

"I've still got a month of school left," Y/n argued.

"I know and I'm sorry we have to do this." Narcissa apologised. "It's all going to happen next month."

"Can't I stay until then?" Y/n asked.

Narcissa shook her head. "I promise you, if I thought you could, I would let you. You're a big part of what you-know-who wants, Harry more, but you must stay far away from this." She told her.

Y/n couldn't not agree. "Alright. We're leaving now?" She asked.

"Yes," Narcissa told her. "All of your things have been packed. Draco can come and see you once it's over." She promised.

Draco wrapped his arms around Y/n as he kissed her. It was one of the things she knew she was going to miss. She also knew it was time to go.

"Bye, I love you," Draco told her, waving from his hospital bed.

"I love you too," Y/n replied before walking out of the wing with Narcissa.

From there, they went out a secret passage, making sure no one saw. Professor Snape knew Y/n had to go, so he was coming up with the cover story.

Narcissa and Y/n finally reached a Slytherin scarf, which took them to a house she'd never been to. "Where are we?" Y/n asked, still holding on to the portkey.

"The South of England," Narcissa told her, making her brows furrow and eyes widen. "It's an old Black family house." She explained, opening the door. It was just as grand as the Manor, smaller, though.

Inside it looked just as gorgeous. All the decor was French country vintage. It screamed old money.

"It's beautiful," Y/n told Narcissa, having a look around the inside. There was so much light streaming into the room with wooden details.

"I'll make some tea. Your room is on the second floor, first door." Narcissa told her. Y/n nodded, walking up the stairs to find the room. It was decorated like royalty belonged there. There was a massive window that looked right out onto the coast.

It was then she realised the house was on a cliff. Y/n hadn't seen it from the angle the entryway was at. But it was spectacular. Lonely.

Y/n could spend her whole life there. She set her bags down and strolled around the room. It was smaller than Draco's was, at the manor. But it was much lighter. Almost the complete opposite of the Malfoy family home.

Once she had finished looking around, she went back downstairs to see Narcissa setting tea up on the coffee table. When she walked into the living room she saw the massive windows, showing the ocean.

"Sit," Narcissa commanded and Y/n did so right away. She poured tea for both of them before also sitting down. They sat in silence for a while, Y/n not knowing what to say. "I can tell you have questions." Narcissa prompted.

"Why is Snape protecting Draco and I?" Y/n asked quickly.

Narcissa sighed before answering. "Do you know what an Unbreakable Vow is?" She asked, and Y/n nodded. "Severus and I made one. He vowed to watch over Draco." Y/n nodded again. That vow must have expended to Y/n.

Y/n suddenly had more questions. "You need a Bonder, right?"

"Yes, Bellatrix was ours," Narcissa replied. Y/n was familiar with Draco's strange aunt. They had never met, out of Bellatrix's loyalty to Voldermort.

"Are you going to stay here with me?" She asked, concerned about being alone.

Narcissa shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can only be here sometimes. The story is you ran away, and no one knows where you are, so I can't be here too much." Y/n didn't know that before. Everyone was going to think she'd left by choice. Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Theo. Harry, if he cared. She knew none of them were going to be able to know why she was gone.

"Am I safe here?" Y/n asked, now worrying about how she would be safe alone. The tea they were sipping seemed to calm her down.

"Yes, there are charms on the house so no one can get in. But, I'm also giving you this." Narcissa stopped what she was saying and pulled out a necklace. It was a heart-shaped gold locket. Narcissa placed it in her hand. Y/n looked at it. That's when she noticed the initials on it. Draco's and hers.

Y/n thanked her. "That's not it. If you open it like this." Narcissa instructed, opening the heart. Y/n noticed the emerald gemstone. "This stone is a portkey, right to the Manor." So Y/n would be able to get back to the Manor.

"I can't thank you enough, and I don't want to intrude, but I do have a personal question." Y/n was hesitant about what she was going to ask. But she needed to know. "You said before, in the hospital wing, that Mr Malfoy knew where I was staying. And I have a lot of respect for him, so I don't want this to come off badly." Y/n could tell she was rambling. Narcissa could as well, she slid a hand onto Y/n's to calm her down. "Why is it safe for him to know? He's you-know-who's number 2. Eventually, he's going to want me dead." It broke Y/n's heart, she knew it was going to ruin Draco's life. But, his father was going to have to kill her.

"Slow down." Narcissa smiled softly. That comforted Y/n a little. "Do you remember when we met, the summer before the World Cup?" She asked. Y/n nodded in agreement, not sure where it was going. "The night we met you, I knew. I knew Draco was in love with you. And, I knew Voldermort was going to come back and try to kill the Potter twins." Y/n's heart started to race at the mention of her parents' death. "I made Lucius make an unbreakable vow. Snape was the Bonder." Oh, it made sense. Lucius couldn't hurt Y/n, Narcissa had protected her.

She just didn't understand why so she asked. "Why? I mean, I appreciate it more than anything. But you risked your whole marriage." It was true, and Narcissa knew that.

"I've never thought you or Harry should be persecuted. My parents raised me as pureblood supremacists, but killing is wrong." Narcissa told her. Y/n was thankful for her honesty. She filled the place Lily had left, and Petunia hadn't tried to fill. "I love Draco, more than anything in the world. The only thing I've ever wanted is to see him happy. I knew he was happy with you." Y/n understood Narcissa's unconditional love for Draco, she felt the same.

"He's lucky to have you," Y/n mentioned, trying not to think about her parents.

"I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I'm very sorry about your parents," Narcissa told her. Y/n could feel the tears in her eyes.

She let a few of them fall. "Did you, uh, know them?"

"My last two years at Hogwarts, they were there. James was only 11 but he was loud and brave. He would even stand up to me with Sirius." Hearing both their names made Y/n cry more. She was crying for the dad she never knew, and the uncle she only had for a short time. "I noticed you at Hogwarts, I think during second year, and I had deja vu. You looked so similar to Lily. She always wore her hair just like you did." Y/n remembered seeing Narcissa but she didn't remember Narcissa seeing her.

"Would they be disappointed in me?" Y/n couldn't help but ask. Narcissa felt her pain, running deep. She immediately wrapped the girl in a hug, letting her cry.

"No, never for a moment." She confirmed. "I know it's not the same, but I'm proud of you." It wasn't the same, but it meant just as much.

"Thank you." Y/n thanked her again.

"No thanks are necessary. I should go back though." Narcissa stated, looking at her watch.

Y/n nodded, gently opening the necklace so she wouldn't touch the emerald. Narcissa held it, and just like that, she was gone.

Y/n found a good amount of things to do. There were movies and music. She still had some of her textbooks. Plus, exploring the house was fun.

But she did miss Draco. And the rest of her friends. Instead of using an owl, she decided to send letters by muggle post to the Malfoy residence, so Narcissa could send them to Hogwarts.

There was a knock on the door a couple of weeks after Y/n moved in.

She peaked out the window before seeing a tuff of blonde hair. It was Draco.

Quickly, she swung the door open, embarrassing him in her arms.

Draco hugged her back, lifting her off the ground and twirling her around.

"Dray, I missed you." She cooed, head buried in his shoulder.

"I missed you too, my girl." He replied, pulling her even closer. It was so tight she felt like she couldn't breathe.

When she pulled back, she had a thought. "How did you manage to come? Don't you have classes?"

Draco shook his head. "Quidditch match. It's Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw, so I came here instead." Y/n was very grateful for Quidditch that day.

They only had a few hours before people would notice he was gone. But they baked cookies together while Draco filled her in on everything she'd missed. As well as lots of kissing.

When it came time for him to leave, she was upset. But Draco made her promise not to cry.

Draco came back after the battle of the tower. Y/n knew there was something wrong. He didn't grin as wide when he met her at the beach.

There were already tears forming in his eyes, and it was late.

"Dray, talk to me, baby." Y/n pleaded as they lay together on the couch. It was far past midnight. Y/n was on Draco's chest and they were a tangle of limbs. She had her fingers running through his hair.

Draco sighed. "I couldn't do it." He sobbed out. "I couldn't kill him. Snape had to do it. It was so horrible, Y/n." He continued, tears still falling. "My father was so mad. He cares more about appeasing Voldermort than me." Y/n's heart clenched as she heard his words.

"Draco, he loves you." Y/n tried to reassure him.

Draco tried to accept it, but it was difficult. "I'm scared for what's going to happen." He told her.

"Me too," Y/n admitted. "How's it all going to end?" She asked him.

The truth was Draco didn't know. And she knew that. "They're talking over the Manor." He didn't want to be the one telling her the bad news. "They're going to go after anyone and everyone associated with Muggleborns. I'm not going to get to be here much." He hesitantly admitted.

"You've done what they needed you to do, though!" Y/n exclaimed, feeling outraged.

"I know. I'm not sure what they're going to do with me. Father lectured me and I just came here." Draco explained. It reassured her there might be some hope he could spend the summer there. "It'll be okay, Y/n."

She tried to retain that. "Can you come back on my birthday, at least?" Y/n asked.

"Of course, baby." Draco quickly replied. That brought Y/n some relief.

Draco was busy a lot of the summer. Despite having completed the task he was given, he was still Lucius's son.

He told Y/n all about how the Manor had been taken over by death eaters. It worried her. She also spent a lot of time worried about Harry. He was the only blood connection she had left in the world, and she had no idea where he was.

Draco came back on her birthday like he promised. He had more flowers than she'd ever seen in her life. That wasn't where the gifts ended. Jewellery, new shoes, perfume and a big cake.

Narcissa made it as well for dinner. She even insisted Draco stay the night.

By nighttime, they were lying in bed together. Draco's arms wrapped around her tightly. As usual, she lay against his chest. Draco stroking her hair.

When she looked up at him, she knew something was wrong. After all their years together, she could read him like a book. "What is it?"

"What do you mean?" He asked. His voice was a slightly higher pitch. Y/n recognised that as a sign he was hiding something.

"I can tell something bothering you," Y/n explained. "Let me in, Dray." She pleaded.

Draco knew he had to. "I have to leave early tomorrow morning."

Y/n knew that wasn't it. "I need the whole truth." Draco groaned, knowing she knew him better than he knew himself.

"I have to go early so I can be at the takeover of the ministry," Draco revealed to her. "They're going after Scrimgeour because he knows where Harry is." Oh. That wasn't good. Either the minister would give up Harry's location, and her twin brother would be killed. Or, the Ministry of Magic would be run by Death Eaters. Either way, their power was growing. Y/n knew Harry only had a matter of time. Then she would be next.

"So, no one knows where Harry is?" Y/n asked hopefully. Even if he hated her, she would rather he was alive.

Draco shook his head. "He's hunting the Horcruxes, I'd guess. Scrimgeour knows and maybe a few members of the Ministry." That made Y/n relieved, although she wasn't sure how good Harry's survival skills were.

"Am I going to be okay?" Y/n asked, fearing the worst.

Draco took a deep breath as he prepared an answer. "I'm never going to let him get to you, I promise. My Father's vow will make sure he can't either. No one else knows you're here." He reassured her. Y/n just hoped it was true, Draco could read that.

"So you're going back to Hogwarts?" Y/n couldn't help but ask.

Draco nodded. "I think Snape is going to be appointed Headmaster. I'll be safe there." That reassured Y/n to no end. He chuckled slightly, a smile on his face. "We were going to be Head boy and girl." He explained. Y/n's face dropped as she tried not to cry. "Hey, hey, hey." Draco noticed. "It's just the way it happened."

"I know." She nodded. "It just could have been the best year ever."

"When this is all over, we're going to have the best year." He assured her. Y/n tried to hang onto that.

It got difficult the further the year dragged on. Y/n barely saw Draco. She did receive letters about how horrible things had gotten. Hogwarts was gloomier, no one could find Harry, Snape's regime was intense. Y/n was thankful she was away from the whole mess.

Just before Christmas, she found out Luna Lovegood had been kidnapped. Draco had started to detest the cause he was fighting for. He never said so, but she could infer it from what he wrote.

In March, she discovered Harry had been captured. Draco was the one who had to identify him, and he felt horrible about it. He cried on her shoulder, begging her to forgive him when he came to see her. Y/n was never mad at Draco. She was smart enough to know he had to do it. And, deep down, she could feel that Harry was okay.

Draco was in a worse state when they escaped. Not because he wanted Harry to be killed. Because his own aunt had murdered Dobby. While he was taught to hate the house-elves, Dobby was almost his younger sibling.

All Draco could feel was split, unsure of what to do.

Draco told her it was all going to happen on May 1st. The battle of Hogwarts. Y/n spent the whole day riddled with anxiety. She spent a whole 3 days wide awake, waiting for news.

She felt a cursing pain through her head at some point on the 2nd of May. Then the visions started, of Harry and Dumbledore at a train station. She realised she was seeing inside Harry's vision. When he made the choice to return to his body, Y/n knew everything would be alright.

Y/n anxious sat on the couch until 3 people appeared. It was only the early hours of the morning. She immediately ran to Draco wrapping her arms around him. He was unkempt, and his hair was a mess. He hugged her back, pulling her into his chest. She had never seen him looking as disturbed.

"What happened?" Y/n asked, turning to give Narcissa a hug. Much to her surprise, Lucius shook her hand. It was the first time they'd ever done something like that.

"We left," Lucius told her. That was also the first time he'd ever properly talked to her. She didn't understand.

They explained it all to her. How Harry sacrificed himself, how he died, more importantly how Narcissa discovered he was alive. Y/n hung on every word as Narcissa told her how she had lied to Voldermort. She also told Y/n Harry asked if she was still alive. Harry still cared about her.

By that point Draco, Narcissa and Y/n were all crying.

The sun had just started rising when Y/n realised it.

Suddenly, she had a massive headache. The kind she knew Harry used to have. And she knew what it meant.

"Voldermort's dead," Y/n announced, causing all of their eyes to widen. "I just know. I can feel it. Harry killed him." She felt more connected to Harry than she had in years, but she knew.

There were no words any of them said as they hugged. She could feel her head beating rapidly, the same as Draco's.

"Who died?" Y/n finally asked the question she was terrified to ask. Harry was the only one she knew was alive from the good side.

"Bellatrix." Narcissa sobbed out, Lucius immediately pulling her into a hug. It was one of the first times Y/n had seen them acting so intimately.

Draco continued giving Y/n the list. Every second felt like an hour as she hoped none of her friends died. "Fred Weasley." She could only think about the heartbreak that would have caused her brother and his friends. "Snape too." Draco let a few tears fall and Y/n rushed to wipe them. "Lupin and Tonks." Lupin was the last person alive who really knew her parents. Now her chances of knowing about them were over. "There were a lot of others too but everyone else we are close to is okay."

"Good." Y/n nodded before wrapping him in a hug. They stayed like that for a few minutes. Both couples holding each other, all feeling extremely grateful.

"We should go back home," Narcissa told them, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We'll have breakfast." She promised.

Draco enthusiastically nodded. "I'm starving." He mentioned.

Narcissa reached out to grab his hand. "You haven't eaten in days."

Y/n quickly turned her attention to Draco. "Dray." She told him, hitting his arm. "You can't do that."

"I won't, ever again." He promised, his hand wrapping around her waist. "As long as you're there to cook for me." He cheekily quipped, looking at Y/n with a grin. It was the first one she had seen in a while.

Narcissa and Lucius both laughed at the younger couple who reminded them of themselves. "You're dreaming," Y/n replied, bumping into his shoulder. Y/n opened her necklace.

Narcissa, Draco, Lucius and Y/n all touched the emerald. Just like that, they arrived in the Manor living room. It was like Y/n remembered, still as dark. She did feel better about being there, knowing no death eaters were trying to kill her brother.

Over pancakes, they laughed and talked. The world finally felt peaceful again. It was the first time Y/n had been happy in weeks.

An owl knocked at the window, around midday and Y/n took the two letters out of its mouth.

"Dray." She told him, handing his one over to him. "It's from Hogwarts." She told Narcissa and Lucius. They both opened their letters and read them. "In June, they're having an end of year feast," Y/n explained.

"So, we've got a month off school?" Draco looked thrilled by the news.

Narcissa chuckled. "What does it say about your exams?" She asked.

Draco read further down. "Mine says my grades from last year will be considered my grades for this year and I can become an Aurora. Or I can go back to Hogwarts." There was hopefulness in his voice Y/n had missed.

"Draco!" Narcissa cheered, jumping up to hug him. "Congratulations."

"Mine says the same." Y/n realised. "But how is that possible?" She asked, looking at Narcissa.

"I'm not sure." The woman replied, looking just as confused.

"I may have a few words with the acting Ministry when Voldermort was in charge," Lucius reported. All 3 of them were shocked by the confession.

Y/n was overcome with appreciation. "Thank you, sir."

"Please, Lucius is fine." That surprised Y/n but it was nice to hear he might not have hated her as much as she thought. It was the first time Y/n had seen a smile on his face. "What are you two planning on doing with your time off?" He asked the younger couple.

Draco and Y/n met each other's eyes, they hadn't thought about it. "What are we meant to do?" Draco asked.

"The house on the cliff is empty, if you want to spend more time there, Y/n," Narcissa mentioned. Draco grinned widely, nodding his head. He accepted the offer. "Slow down, Y/n?" Narcissa asked, turning her attention to Y/n.

"Yes, I'd love to. Thank you." Y/n affirmed her boyfriend's acceptance.

"When can we go?" Draco asked.

Lucius chuckled. "You don't want to spend time with your parents, son?" He joked. Another first. "You're going of age now, Draco. Y/n too. I think you've both earned the privilege of being treated like adults." He told them.

"You have to be back for your birthday, Draco. We're going to throw a party." Narcissa instructed, raising her eyebrows at him.

"So I'm not an adult?" Draco quipped back.

Narcissa turned to Y/n. "Will you make sure he comes back?" Y/n nodded. "Then you are both free to leave after I get a hug." She informed them, opening her arms up. Draco hugged her first, standing much taller than her.

Then he left to get his stuff. Lucius followed him up the stairs. Y/n walked over to Narcissa, embracing her.

"Thank you, for everything." Y/n mentioned in her arms.

"It's never a problem, sweetness," Narcissa replied, kissing the girl on the forehead.

Y/n and Draco took a different portkey to the house. Both of them were buzzing to have a month together after being apart for so long. They finally felt free and independent.

For a few weeks, they just hung out, reacquainting with each other. They spent time in London, seeing muggle sights and shopping. As well as the small, nearby muggle town. It had the cutest cafe.

Draco and Y/n also hung out with Pansy, Theo and Blaise again. They were all thrilled to see her. She explained the whole situation to them and they completely understood.

Between them, it was like no time was lost.

One summer evening, Draco had insisted on cooking Y/n dinner. He explained it was a date. She was to dress up nice like they were going out. Draco was in a full black suit, matching Y/n's sparkling black dress.

He even set the outdoor table, making Y/n sit there and wait for him to bring out dinner.

It was a pasta dish. The same one Narcissa had made the first time Y/n met the Malfoy family.

"Thank you, Dray," Y/n said as they sat, looking out at the view. The sun was just setting and the whole sky was painted pinks and oranges. In the distance, there was the sound of waves breaking on the cliff.

Draco looked nervous, she hadn't seen him like that for a long time. "Uh, I had a question for you." He stuttered out, cheeks turning pink.

Y/n sent him a soft smile, trying to help him calm down. His nerves were worrying her. What could he possibly ask her? Y/n knew exactly what was about to happen when Draco slid off his chair and down onto one knee. Her hands immediately came over her mouth. Tears were already pricking her eyes. He reached into his back pocket, producing a green velvet box.

"I've, uh, I've thought about doing this for a really long time. When we first met I knew you were the one who was always going to hold a special part of my heart. It was everything about you. I never believed in love at first sight until I met you." Y/n was full-on sobbing at Draco's words. They were the sweetest thing anyone had ever said. "I knew from when I met you that I'd always love you. But I had no idea you'd bear to be around me for long enough. I was kind of insufferable." Y/n and Draco both chuckled. "I'm so grateful I even got the chance to know someone as clever, kind, funny and ambitious as you. Once I'd asked you out, I knew I needed you to be mine forever." Draco let a few tears out, stopping to wipe them. "I've done a lot of stupid things, hurt a lot of people and you're far too good for me, I know that. But, I swear, I'm going to spend every day making it up however I can. I'm going to spend every day making it up to you too. If you let me. I think I knew you before I understood myself. You truly are my best friend and the most important person to me in the world." Neither of them could stop the uncontrollable tears they let out. "So, uh, I've got to ask now. Y/n Potter, will you do me the honours of marrying me?" Draco opened the ring box, revealing a huge diamond ring. It looked vintage and the prettiest thing Y/n had ever seen.

Y/n wiped a few stray tears off her cheeks, leaning down to do that same to Draco. "Yes, Draco. A million times yes." He was grinning as wide as she'd ever seen as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He stood up, holding her face in his hands. "I love you." He told her, leaning down to kiss her gently.

"I love you too," Y/n replied, eyes closed with her forehead intimately pressed against Draco's. When she moved her eyes she looked down at the ring. "It's so beautiful, Dray."

Draco nodded before explaining the story. "It's, um, a Black family heirloom. If Mum, Aunt Bella or Aunt Andromeda were boys, they would have gotten it. Luckily for me, it skipped a generation."

"It's stunning." Y/n leant back up to place a kiss on his lips. "Now, what have you cooked for dessert?" She asked, giggling lightly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Your favourite, of course, but only because you said yes." He revelled.

Y/n woke Draco up on his birthday with an assortment of gifts. After they ate breakfast and unwrapped presents, they went to the Manor.

Y/n knocked on the door happily. Draco's left hand entwined with her right one. Narcissa swung it open and embarrassed Y/n in an enthusiastic hug. She quickly grabbed Y/n's left hand, looking at the ring.

"I knew it would look perfect on you," Narcissa mentioned, tracing over the ring. Y/n grinned at her.

"It is perfect," Y/n said, grinning at Draco.

"You're perfect." Draco simply replied. Narcissa chuckled at the two of them. "Can I have my hug?" He asked Narcissa.

Narcissa dropped Y/n's hand hesitantly to pull him in. "18 but you're still acting like a petulant child." She joked making Draco pull a face of mock offence. "Happy birthday, Draco."

"Are you keeping them in here, Sissy?" Lucius asked, walking around the corner. Narcissa rolled her eyes at him. "Happy birthday, son." He said, wrapping Draco in a hug. "Y/n." Lucius turned to her.

"Mr Malfoy." Y/n greeted. She thought she was in trouble when he raised his eyebrows and shot her a pointed look. The smile on his lips assured her she wasn't about to be told off. "Lucius." She corrected herself.

Y/n held out a hand to shake his but he shook his head, opening his arms. "You're my future daughter-in-law, come here." He insisted, and Y/n hugged him, trying to avoid showing her shock.

After they had lunch and Draco opened more presents, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Blaise, other friends and several Malfoy and Black family members came over. It was a phenomenal party.

Pansy raced right over to Y/n, flinging her arms around the girl.

"Hi Pansy, it's actually my birthday." Draco sarcastically greeted her.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Happy birthday, you big baby." She said, giving him a hug too. "I'm sorry I missed my best friend." Draco faked offence.

Theo, Blaise and Daphne all came to hug the couple as well. Neither Y/n nor Draco had realised they didn't know about the engagement.

They all quickly got flutes of champagne, raising them to toast each Draco.

That's when Pansy saw it. "Oh, Merlin. Is that an engagement ring!?" Pansy shouted, grabbing Y/n's left hand.

Both Y/n and Draco awkwardly laughed. "Yes," Y/n confirmed as Pansy admired the ring, showing Y/n's hand to Daphne and the boys.

"That's not just any ring. That's a Black Family ring." Blaise noticed.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. "How did you know that?" She asked, looking back at Draco.

He was blushing pink. "Loverboy, here, has been talking about giving it to you since 1st year," Theo informed Y/n. "He wouldn't shut up about it most nights." Her eyes widened as she looked at a red-faced Draco.

"You never told me that," Y/n mentioned, nudging his chest. Draco groaned, wrapping his arm around Y/n's waist.

"Because it's really embarrassing." Draco quietly stated.

Daphne pattered Draco's arm. "Y/n used to talk about you in her sleep." Daphne declared. That made Y/n's cheeks heat. Draco and the rest of the friend group burst out laughing.

It was finally the day of the final Hogwarts feast. Y/n didn't ever think, at 11 years old, it was going to end like this. In 7 years, she had learnt so much more than most people learnt in their lifetime.

"Pans, Blaise." Y/n opened the door of the Black's seaside house to invite Pansy and Blaise in.

Pansy and Blaise were both dressed in formal clothing as they hugged Y/n. She was wearing a deep green dress that matched Draco's suit's tie.

"You look lovely." Pansy complimented her.

"Pansy, look at you!" Y/n returned the compliment, instructing Pansy to do a spin of her silver dress.

"Are we ready to go?" Draco asked, walking down the stairs. He was in a full black suit aside from his green tie. He bro-hugged Blaise and gave Pansy a hug before wrapping an arm around Y/n's waist.

Y/n nodded. "Let's do it."

Y/n hadn't seen how destructed Hogwarts was, but it now looked just like when she left. She couldn't help but feel sad at the tragedy that had occurred a month ago.

"It's odd being back," Pansy spoke what they were all thinking. Everyone gave her a nod of agreement.

The two couples walked into the great hall, hand in hand. Everyone was surprised to see Y/n. They still had no explanation for why she was gone.

Naturally, Y/n's eyes met her brother. She noticed how faded his lightning-bold scar looked. But she didn't go over to him, she just went to her house table.

McGonagall spoke, about the losses they had faced and how good always won in the end. Her speech was inspiring. Everyone was still distraught about the battle, it was evident on their faces.

They ate, laughing at their tables as the sky fell dark. Y/n had missed being at Hogwarts, it was like home to her. The couple finally made their way through the castle to go home when it was late.

"Y/n!" That was a voice she hadn't expected to hear. She hadn't heard him say her name in years. Harry. His voice was much deeper now.

Y/n stopped in her tracks, quickly turned around to look at him. She still looked like she remembered. "Hi." She greeted him, awkwardly rocking on her feet.

"I'll give you a moment," Draco mentioned, unlacing his hand with Y/n's and walking off.

Now, neither of them knew what to say. They were family but so disconnected.

"How are you?" Harry finally asked.

Y/n softly smiled. "I'm alright. And you?"

"Good." Harry stuttered. Silence fell again. "I'm so sorry." He blurted out. "I never should have said the things I did in 4th year. I was so angry about what Malfoy was saying and I couldn't believe it."

Y/n nodded. "I know, Harry, you don't need to explain it or be sorry."

"No, I do. I shouldn't have refused to talk to you for 3 years. It was childish and hurt you." Harry insisted. It made Y/n feel like the weight was off her shoulders. A weight she had been hauling for years. "I looked for you when I left Hogwarts for a whole year."

That was new information but it warmed Y/n's heart. "Harry, I had no idea." She replied, tears swelling in her eyes. "Narcissa told me you asked about me."

"I felt the worst I had ever felt. I was immature, and mum and dad would have been disappointed." Harry admitted.

Y/n shook her head, finally letting the tears fall at the thought of her parents. "Harry, no, please. They would be so proud of you for everything. I'm so sorry about everything I said as well. I just need to know if you hate me." She begged, looking into his matching eyes.

"I never hated you, not for a minute. I was mad but I was also stupid and prejudice." Harry told her, finally allowing her to relax. Y/n pulled him in for a hug without thinking about it. "I missed you so much." Harry was sobbing too, hot tears on Y/n's back.

"I missed you too. Ron and Hermione and the Weasley's too." Y/n told him, pulling back. "Would you maybe want to hang out sometime. Talk?"

Harry couldn't nod quick enough. "Yes, please. I'd really like that. We've missed a lot of time."

Y/n pulled him back in for another hug. It was like the two puzzle pieces were finally together. The part of her heart that was missing was now filled.

"Is your scar okay?" Y/n asked, running her left forefinger over Harry's forehead.

Harry nodded, glancing up at her finger. He noticed the ring. Harry grabbed Y/n's hand, examining it in front of her. "Oh my." He exclaimed.

"Please don't be mad." Y/n winced, breath shortening.

"No, not at all," Harry told her. "I just want to be a part of your life. Draco's as well." He told her honestly. Y/n had never felt better than she did right then.

"Thank you," Y/n told him. "Are you with Ginny?" She couldn't help but ask.

Harry smiled as he nodded. "Yeah. This ring is phenomenal though." Harry mentioned, smiling as he met Y/n's eyes.

"I know." Y/n agreed a giddy smile on her face.

Today just might have been the best day of her life. She had a twin brother she spoke to and an amazing fiancee. Life was perfect.

494 notes · View notes

crystalcow · 3 years

Text

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 4

Masterlist // child reader ML //

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, casinos

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝗼𝐤𝗼 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝗼𝐰??

Quackity was telling you all of his plans

He rambled on for hours of his ideas for casinos and how he was going to marry Karl and sapnap

It sounded great

He had his whole plan set up! He even had Sam helping him with the building

But then he left

Just like everyone else

But that was fine! You were just with sapnap

Before Karl came running over rambling on about needed to move his library

He had a library?

“[Redacted] you need to stay close, please”

You looked at him weirdly

Who the fuck was [redacted]

“Karl my names Y/n you idiot” “flame..” “sorry”

He didn’t even notice it and then you had to spend the next couple days hauling over 100 books

“Oo hey what are these! The covers look really weird”

You had found his time travel books

Woops

That man raced over and in the kindest way possible, snatched it from your hands

“Don’t touch those, they are my special books”

You just shrugged and let him be, he freaks you out enough

So you all traveled to this area in the spruce forest and built a really ugly mushroom hut

But hey it’s fine! Foolish thankfully came around later that day and made everything better

So you stuck around

Maybe you needed this, this new start

Oh but prime knows that wouldnt last long

Karl started forgetting

At first it was simple things as just forgetting where he was or little stumbles with names

But eventually he was going away longer and longer

He started calling you by these strange names, some that sound Victorian and western and others that are unlike you

One day he didn’t call you by your name at all

You were hanging around the Sakura trees and the big yin Yang pond waiting for sapnap to come back with George

Then you saw Karl exit the library, running up to him for a hug

It’s been two months since you’ve seen him

You fucking hated it but you couldn’t help but consider him another parental figure

He loved it

But he just stood there as you wrapped your arms around him

Expecting the usual “[reda]- Y/n, I’ve missed you so much my sweet flame!”

But there was nothing just a sad one sided hug

“Hello? I’m sorry but do I know you?”

You were ready to cry

“I’m sorry, I uh must’ve mistaken you for the wrong person” “No that’s fine! Hugs are nice?”

So you left and ran into the library

Scouring throughout all of the books until you found them

The same 8 books you shrugged away

You read through all of them along with Karl’s other journals

You didn’t like going through his stuff especially, a whole invasion of privacy

The more you read the worse it got

What were you gonna tell Sapnap?

Who the hell is James, and [redacted]?

And why couldn’t he stop

It’s no use anymore

You were simply just forgotten

𝐋𝗼𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

The closer you got to the large building, the sicker you got

Kinoko Kingdom was supposed to be your free pass

But somehow you always end up here

You called for Sam on the comms waiting for the beep

The inside looked great to say the least

“What are your past relationships with the prisoner?” “No answer.”

“Where are you currently resided?” “No answer”

“Do you believe the prisoner deserves his sentence?” “Maybe”

You put all your shit in the locker and followed him through all the safety checks

“I’m glad you didn’t bring anything with you”

You stood on the platform heart racing as the lava went down

It was like a ticking time bomb

The small squeaks and scratches of the hovering bridge

He just stared at you

That sick stupid mask was broken by tommy that day in the black stone room

So you had to look into his face

Lets just say he looks good in Orange

“Barrier up or down?” “Down”

He backed up into the corner as you stepped in

Smiling

Once the lava cascaded down your smile turned into a sick frown

“Hello” is that all he had to fucking say?

“Screw you. Fuck you. Damn you”

He just looked you a small chuckle escaping from his lips

“Those all mean the same thing.” “Well I’ve been living in cinnamon town for the past couple months, and I’m ready to fucking burn some buns”

Yeah he just laughed

“I’ve missed you Hot shot”

“You ruined our damn life!”

Someone went quiet

“If you didn’t have to have a petty little war, or criminalize children we could’ve been fine! It could’ve just been you, dad, me, and George.”

You were pissed, everyone just kept leaving you.

Tommy and Tubbo, Quackity, Karl, Dream, and hell even Wilbur

“You come and visit me, after not having seen me for months and you just yell? Not a hello or ‘how are you dream?’ ‘How’s prison dream’ ‘how can I help you get out of this damn place’ “

You just sat down ready to just walk out into the lava

“I’ve been stuck here for months! None of you even cared enough to visit me, hell even Tommy came around.”

You might have felt a little bad after leaving him

The prison was cold even tho lava was flowing right there

“Why would you leave the discs alone..” “Because I had to end it.”

What were you doing here

What were you planning on saying?

“So, what do you do in prison”

“I have a clock.”

You got up to go look at the pretty clock

Then threw it at his face

“Ow” “deal with it bitch”

The longer you stayed the worse the feeling in your stomach got

so you buzzed for Sam waving goodbye

“Wait.. Do they miss me?” “Can’t say, but I think this may be for the best.”

He wanted his best friends

But he just got the annoying teenager

Oh but that wouldn’t be the last

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬

You got a letter in the mail one day

Who the hell uses letters??

You were shocked to see the address and the small post card

“Come around some time”-Quackity

Ans on the back it had the cords

Oh well what did you have to loose? Sapnap was focused on Karl

and well Karl didn’t even know you

So you set off

It took you a couple hours travel by horse to get to the desert area

The large sign blaring in the red text

You gotta admit the place looked beautiful

There was a giant dick and different shops

You were shocked to see this random un human like guy

“Hello, I am Charlie a totally human guy!”

Yeah totally not slime

“I’m uh, Y/n?” He reached out for a handshake sort of thing

“Dap me up!” “Another time Charlie”

Maybe when you had hand sanitizer

“Ohh so your Y/n! Mister Quackity talks about you all the time, come on in!”

You were skeptical but followed anyways

Stopping in your tracks when you saw Fundy

“Furry?” “Fire shit?”

You went over to give him a side hug, ruffling his fur

“What the hell are you doing here ginger boy!” “Oh you know, just escaping nightmares”

You were confused then just let him be

You walked to the entry way of the place

A beautiful pond with flowers and an arch

“Did what the place where Mr. Quackity was going to propose!”

Going to?

You shrugged it off following inside

You hated to admit it, but you were excited to see him

Yeah you really needed a parental figure in your life at the moment

So when you saw him, he immediately pick you up in a hug

You didn’t fail to notice his change in appearance

That beanie stayed the same tho

Thank god

“Hey hey! Let me show you around the place, we can also go for lunch and talk.”

The casino looked great to say the least

Loud music booming from the speakers, along with the live jazz band on the side

Slot machines were going off every minute

“Have a chip, something to remember this by”

He handed you a red poker chip

It was a cool one tho, in the middle has a blocky sort of smile

Creepy and dopey.. sick!

So you put it around a spare silver chain

“So how have you been kid? ‘Ts been a while hasn’t it.” “Could be better..”

You both walked around the city in silence, offering to go in the super model shop

“No” “why not” “keep walking”

On your way to lunch you had to squint at what you were seeing

“Oh my goodness you’re still alive?!” “You’re alive!?”

You and revivebur just stared at one another

“Yeah he came back after I died!” “you what now-“

You just stared at Tommy and back to Wilbur

Oh god those shrooms were messing with your head

You should’ve gotten out of there a while ago

Quackity came over placing his hands on your shoulders

“Do I have to execute you both? Get off my damn property”

“Sorry Q. Say, Y/n wanna join Lmanburg 2.0?”

You back away holding your hands up

“I denied that offer once, and I’ll do it again. Fucking zombie freaks”

You obviously muttered the last part

Why the fuck did dream revive those two shits??

When did Tommy even die??

Your visit here has just gotten weirder and weirder

𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Quackity got you away from the brits as quick as he could

So he brought you over to his office

“So kid, how’s your dad..”

Ah you expected this question

“How the fuck am I supposed to know. He’s living his life, Karl’s time traveling! Oh yeah did I mention he doesn’t even remember me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes

“So I’m not the only one they forgot..”

You slammed you hands on the fable dramatizing the situation

“How would you feel about moving here? I mean you could work for me in the casino!”

You thought about it for a second

You have two options

1. Live in shroom town with bubbles

2. Move to las Nevada’s with Quackity

You were sure Sapnap wouldn’t mind

I mean would he even care?

He hasn’t for the past couple months!

“You feel abandoned there, over here there are hundreds of people. You’ll have the time of your life”

You thought about it for a sec

“Alright hand me a contract”

So you signed

Making deals with the devil huh

Little did you know it would cost you your life

Devils little soul

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

and this is the finale! I will take requests for sapnaps child, and I’ll do some shit with Quackity and the casino and go in more depth if wanted!

As always request and ask anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist (child reader or general)

For those on the taglist I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged for all child reader shit or just dreams child.. so please tell me :)

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky

#sapnaps child #sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnap x y/n #karl jacobs x y/n #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #quackity x you #dsmp #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #wilbur soot #tommy innit #kinoko kingdom #dream smp prison #las navadas #child reader

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antebunny · 3 years

Text

Parent Trap AU

...with a side of on-the-run hacker!wwx AU, and celebrity!lwj AU. Full series here.

In the end, all the chaos starts because Lan Jingyi gets offended.

“What do you mean you haven’t heard of my uncle?” Lan Jingyi demands.

He glares down at Wei Sizhui from the top bunk. Lan Jingyi and the other two boys in Wei Sizhui’s cabin got into a fight over who would get the top bunks, and after several heated rounds of rock-paper-scissors, they went to Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen.

“Stop shouting!” Jin Rulan yells from the other side of the room. He yanks his headphones off and directs his own glare at Lan Jingyi, who scowls back.

“He said he hasn’t heard of Hanguang-jun!” Lan Jingyi yells right back.

Jin Rulan frowns. “The singer? So?”

“I’m sorry,” Wei Sizhui interrupts, before they can get into a fight. “My dad and I travel a lot, so I’ve never stuck around in one place long enough…”

Lan Jingyi frowns, this time with suspicion. “What does your dad do?”

“Uh.”

He’s a genius-level hacker wanted for a felony he didn’t commit and he’s been on the run from at least two organizations for the past nine years.

“…He’s a computer engineer.”

“Really?” Ouyang Zizhen perks up from his top bunk. Wei Sizhui knows vaguely that he likes graphic design. “That’s so cool.”

Wei Sizhui smiles weakly. “Yeah. Um.” He tries not to panic thinking about what to say if anyone asks him any more questions about his dad’s job.

Lan Jingyi flounders for only a second. “Still,” he insists. “You guys have heard of him, right?” When Jin Rulan and Ouyang Zizhen both nod, he points his iPhone victoriously at Wei Sizhui. “See?! He’s famous!”

Wei Sizhui shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t heard of Hanguang-jun. He suspects that it’s because he moves around so much, he’s never really had the chance to make friends, so all the music he knows is the music his dad listens to. Wei Sizhui knows his dad is doing his best, but sometimes it’s unbearably lonely.

Which is why he’s at this summer camp in the first place. His dad pulled a lot of strings (read: committed a lot of forgery) so that he could make friends. And now it seems he’s already made a mistake in not knowing Lan Jingyi’s (“Well, he’s not really my uncle, but we’re related…somehow”) uncle.

“But you’ve at least heard his songs,” Lan Jingyi insists. “Like, uh.” He clears his throat, then shoots a look at Jin Rulan, cheeks flushing. “Our Vow? Water Under The Bridge? I Promise? Someone Like You? At First Sight?” He shakes his head in disappointment when Wei Sizhui just continues staring at him blankly.

“Wait, I’m pulling it up on Spotify,” Ouyang Zizhen chimes in. He rolls over onto his stomach and fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“I can’t believe this,” Lan Jingyi says, still shaking his head. “You’ve at least heard the chorus of Under Moonlight. There’s no way you haven’t.” He clears his throat again, and then clearly chickens out again.

“Go ahead, sing it,” Jin Rulan says, smirking.

Lan Jingyi glares at him, then a thought brightens his face. “Maybe you’ll recognize him!” He whips out his phone and starts typing furiously.

Wei Sizhui opens his mouth to protest, seeing no reason why he would recognize the singer’s face but not their voice, but he’s too late. Lan Jingyi is already clambering down the ladder, and proudly presenting the Google Image results for “Hanguang-jun.” Then Wei Sizhui’s mouth, despite not being closed, really falls open.

“I know him,” he blurts.

“So you do recognize him,” Lan Jingyi says, pleased.

“No, I…” Wei Sizhui stutters.

Now it’s his turn to fumble for his phone. He opens Photos and taps on Albums, then opens Favorites. At the top, timestapped April 5, 2010, is one of the only photos Wei Sizhui has of his dad. His dad hates being caught on camera, for obvious reasons. Still, Wei Sizhui doesn’t hesitate to open the photo and show it to Lan Jingyi.

Lan Jingyi cranes his neck to peer over Wei Sizhui’s shoulder, and his mouth falls open too.

The photo is a still image of two people. On the left is Wei Wuxian, Wei Sizhui’s adopted dad. He’s dressed in a sharp black suit, a red flower tucked into the right breast pocket. He’s throwing up peace signs for the camera. His arms are draped around the other person from behind, and his smile is blinding.

The other person is clearly Lan Jingyi’s uncle, Hanguang-jun. The man has the same striking face, the same light brown eyes. He’s dressed in an all-white suit, save for the light blue flower tucked similarly into a pocket. He has the same ribbon wrapped around his wrist. The main difference between the Google Images that Lan Jingyi pulled up and the photo that Wei Sizhui has is that in Sizhui’s, Hanguang-jun is smiling softly.

It’s a wedding photo.

“No way,” Lan Jingyi breathes. “I recognize that guy! My uncle carries around a picture of him in his wallet!”

“Wait, really?” Jin Rulan perks up at this bit of drama, taking his headphones off completely.

Ouyang Zizhen also perks up, abandoning his quest to find Hanguang-jun’s music. He slides down his ladder, colliding with Jin Rulan’s attempts to get out of his bed. After minimal cursing, both boys make their way to Wei Sizhui’s bed, where Lan Jingyi is still gaping at the photo.

“Wait, that really is Hanguang-jun,” Ouyang Zizhen says. “I guess your dad met him, Sizhui?”

“Oh my god,” Jin Rulan says at the same time. “That’s my uncle.”

This time Jin Rulan is the one to pull out his phone. He scrolls through his videos until he gets to the very beginning, narrating as he goes. “It’s the only video I have of my uncle,” he explains. “My uncle–I mean, my mom’s other brother–doesn’t like to talk about him, because he went to jail like a decade ago–”

At this, Wei Sizhui winces, suddenly remembering why he’s not supposed to talk about his dad with other people.

“–But my mom does, and she sent this to me,” Jin Rulan finishes.

Finally, he finds the right video, and opens it.

The video was filmed on a 2010’s iPhone, so the video quality is poor. Still, the audio is clear enough when the camera is turned around to view the filmer. The man taking the video has a half-fond, half-exasperated scowl on his face. He’s wearing a violently purple sweater, under which the collar of a black shirt peeks out.

“He’s going to break his legs before I have a chance to break them for him,” the man says, rolling his eyes. “Look.”

The camera is flipped around, showcasing a staircase and Wei Wuxian, leaning over the railing. Wei Wuxian looks back and grins at the camera.

“It’s going to work, just you wait,” Wei Wuxian says.

“I’m going to watch you break your legs,” the man says again.

“Aw, Jiang Cheng, have a little faith,” Wei Wuxian retorts. He leans over the railing again. “Wait, shh! He’s coming!”

Jiang Cheng dutifully falls silent, as Wei Wuxian leans further and further over the railing.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian shouts, and then he jumps over the railing.

Jiang Cheng starts running to the stairs, and any and all sounds are drowned out by the background wind noise of the man running. When he stops, he points the camera over the stairs.

There’s a scattering of books across the hardwood floor, and a man in white, whose face is obscured by Wei Wuxian, held in his arms. Wei Wuxian wraps his arms around the man's neck and twists to look up at the camera.

“I told you he’d catch me!” Wei Wuxian shouts victoriously.

“You made him drop all his books!” Jiang Cheng shouts back, from behind the camera.

The camera is flipped back to Jiang Cheng, who’s still rolling his eyes. “Somehow this is my dumbest brother-in-law,” he says.

“Jiang Cheng, don’t be jealous!” Wei Wuxian shouts from the other floor. “We’ll find you someone one day!”

Jiang Cheng’s face colors purple, and the video ends.

The four boys are silent for a moment.

“So that was Hanguang-jun?” Ouyang Zizhen says, after their moment of silence is over.

“I guess so,” Jin Rulan says.

“You’re telling me my uncle and your dad were married?” Lan Jingyi demands.

“And he went to jail?” Ouyang Zizhen adds. “Sizhui, what happened there?”

Jin Rulan wrinkles his nose. “Why does your uncle still carry around a photo of him if they split up?”

“Why did they split up?” Lan Jingyi asks. “Was it the jail thing?”

“Seriously, what did he go to jail for?” Ouyang Zizhen asks.

In eerie unison, all three boys put down their phones and look at Wei Sizhui expectantly.

Two weeks into summer camp, and Wei Sizhui has already made his first three friends, and blown his dad’s cover. He’ll be wanted by the FBI after this, for identity forgery, if they aren’t already–Wei Sizhui isn’t entirely clear, and his dad doesn’t clarify.

Wei Sizhui smiles nervously.

“Who did you say your dad was again?” Lan Jingyi asks.

#mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #jin ling #the juniors #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #my writing #writeblr #greetings tumblr void #antebunny's ficlets

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megamegaturtle · 4 years

Text

in the dumpster fire of 2020, i fell in love with dramione

here’s some fic recs in no particular order of favorites (ao3 edition). this is going to be a long ass post, but a link to all my bookmarks on ao3. again, long post. you’ve been warned:

remain nameless by @heyjude19-writing - the coffee shop au that’s 300,000 words that’s friends to lovers and becoming better people (complete)

measure of a man - okay so like. i’m going to explain this story terribly. but like. hermione is a healer, she’s also part farmer. she super heals hard to heal patients. and oh boy. there are the malfoys. we have narcissa as herself. scrop as the cutest baby kid alive, and draco as a poltergeist. JUST. THIS STORY. START READING. IT IS SO GOOD. AND DELCIOS AND ALSJDFJLA you will come away feeling super empowered. (WIP)

subtle perfection - the ice skating/muggle au that’s is asldkfjsaljf really smoking hot but like the ice hurts my feels (wip)

seven year witch by @thelastlynx- draco and hermione keep meeting up in the summers between school years (WIP)

when midnight comes - TIME LOOP AU. head boy and head girl au. (complete)

O for Outstanding - hogwarts teacher au. also, draco has a thing for shoes *wink* (WIP)

regrets only - MADE OF HONOR AU. draco realizes a little too late he’s in love with hermione. but now he has to stop but support a wedding! (WIP)

never in heart - the one where where hermione and draco are best friends, but stupidly did an unbreakable vow to get married if they’re not married by 30. time is running out to find a spouse, but like, why take the easy route and marry your best friend? (complete)

nine months - hermione and draco have what is supposed to be a one night stand...several times, but oops. someone is pregrant :D (WIP)

love and other misfortune by @senlinyu - a veela!fic. and in the first few fics i read in the fandom. it made me continue reading more dramione. this is sen’s fault (complete)

living the dream - the one where draco is a high class escort looking for his mate. also a veela!fic. i am here for positive sex work (one shot)

the gloriana set - absolute hilarious perfection with the best little hufflepuffs (complete)

armature cartography - the one where draco somehow ends up as hermione’s boyfriend but she’s not sure how dating works (one shot)

thirteenth night - the one where draco is obliviated to pay for his crimes, but hermione is his caseworker (complete)

traditions - the christmas fic that gets my feels (complete)

everything little thing she does (is magic) - the one were draco and hermione go to parties together as a ruse! (complete)

the preferred hour - the one where scorp and rose start dating and draco is this super nice widower and...asdlfjasdljf JUST READ THIS ONE (one shot)

blood rights - creature!fic. also, draco and hermione have to get married (complete)

precious things - *cue ugly sobbing* the journey of draco’s growing love for his family through many years after he accidently knocks up hermione and....it’s a christmas fic. that hurts my heart, but it’s so good. (one shot)

fight this feeling - the best friend au! but like, unrequited feelings. these two silly gooses (complete)

courting customs most sacred by @heyjude19-writing - pansy thinks she’s doing hermione a favor, but like draco gets how purebloods do etiquette (complete)

as you wish by @scullymurphy - is this a princess bride ref? yes, yes is it. is it about costumes and movies? yes it is. (oneshot)

all you want by @senlinyu - the first A/B/O fic i’ve ever read. it was good. so i read it. i don’t even like this trope! but it’s worth it! :D (complete)

where we go from here - this hurts. so much. ron dies in a horrible accident leaving hermione alone pregnant with their child. draco is the real bro and helps and alsdjfasldjf family. feels. dad feels. i can’t. (complete)

in search of sunrise - a very cute onesot where draco and hermione stay up all night (oneshot)

tough love - hermione has to date a few bad men to get to the right one (complete)

each day anew - the 50 first dates au. hermione needs help relearning who she is every day (complete)

with teeth - the one where there are many, many horcruxes (oneshot)

wait and hope by @mightbewriting - ugly crying. hermione lost her memories and draco is the best husband. just. take all my love. (complete)

broken by @inadaze22 - hermione is back from italy. there is a secert. it will wreck you. (complete)

waif and strays - the familiar au! draco becomes hermione’s familiar because she’s a little lost and lonely and he’s a little lost and lonely too (complete)

apple pies and other amends - the baking!au where i want to eat everything. also. it’s very cute. (complete)

off the cuff - the cinderella au! someone forgot their glass slipper, i mean...cuff (complete)

universal truth by @scullymurphy - the modern wizarding P&P au. ugh. so good. (complete)

an education - the one where hermione is forced to help draco learn about the muggle world a little bit (complete)

Inosculation - the one where hermione has to marry draco to save her life because of a stupid curse. they are very cute. (complete)

the calm to her storm - ron passes away and rose and hugo befriend scorp and hermione has to befriend draco and it’s great (complete)

a boy of hans - hanahaki au. sad ending.

Dancing with Draco - THIS SERIES IS SO GOOD. okay, so like. draco has to help hermione dance for the yule ball. the sequeal is super good too.

The Oblivious Ones - a fake marriage story. hermione and draco meet in the pysch ward at st. mungo’s and go off to look for her parents

what you think is right - this story is so painful. one of the best 1st POVs i’ve read. it’s hermione pov. her parents are dying and it’s affecting her marriage with draco and god. just read it. (WIP)

Deine Zauber Binden Wieder - the ochrastra au no one asked for, but it’s like. really fun. (oneshot)

the green girl - hermione is sorted in Slytherin when she’s 11. this story. i still think about it to this day. (complete)

a year in the countryside - hermione wants to escape for the craziness of the big city so she moves to the cute country side. to only find draco malfoy living there too. (complete)

don’t take the sinner - THE MARRIAGE LAW FIC WITH A TWIST. hermione has to marry harry and ginny has to marry draco, but like, no one stays with their spouse. no cheating involved. (complete)

Draco's Baking Dilemmas - the great british bake off au. i don’t need to say anything more. hermione is the judge. draco is the baker. yes. and yes. (complete)

starving - sex is like food. or rather. sex is like pizza. it’s good when it’s cold, but like. it’s better when it’s hot :D (oneshot)

#dramione #Harry Potter #draco malfoy #Hermione Granger #dmhg #dhr #literally the only good thing about 2020 is dramione

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nationalharryleague · 3 years

Text

Diplomacy

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers Royal AU

Word count: 12K (I may have gotten carried away)

Warnings: Parental Death, an American writing about monarchies she doesn’t understand

A/N: Hi everyone! I have been working on this one for a while and it’s by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and I am so proud of it (please be nice)!! I also made a Pinterest board with all the outfits from this if you want to check it out here!! SO SO SO much love to @meetmymouth @bfharry and @hardcandy-harry for helping me out when I needed it and being the most wonderful people in general :) As always, thank you so so much for reading!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and feedback/reblogs mean the world!!!

****

Y/N knew from the day she could understand the concept of marriage that she would one day be married to the little prince with wild brown curls her mother always forced her to play with. She still vividly remembered the first time he told her that she was ugly and that he hated her. She was only five years old at the time.

Fortunately, she hated him just as much as he hated her. He was rude, somehow always sticky, and seemed to have no filter or manners, letting every nasty thing he could think of fall past his lips in daggers aimed at his future wife.

As they grew older, their animosity only grew, from petty to school yard quarrels to attacks on their personalities and who they were as people. Despite her pleas to her mother to be sent to a different boarding school than the one he was already attending, she was shipped off.

She studied judiciously, what was expected of every future queen, while she watched Harry meander through his schooling. He never seemed to listen in class, never studied, and seemed to only care about football and girls. She watched with jealousy and contempt as he flirted with every girl at their school, every girl except the one he knew he was to marry; while every boy in the school knew Y/N was off limits, direct orders from the crown.

It made her uncomfortable how much she disliked him. She was not a hateful person, having been trained well to treat everyone with dignity and respect, she was a princess after all. But something about Harry just got under her skin. She barely was able to control the instinctive eye roll whenever his name was mentioned and she often pretended to gag when discussing him with her friends, especially when one of them would inevitably call him ‘dreamy.’

The happiest day of her life was the day she watched him graduate, knowing she had been awarded years of peace without having to listen to his taunts or watch him flirt with everything that breathed. During those years, she flourished. She grew from a timid girl in line for power to a confident young woman preparing for the crown. She knew her country through and through, her constitution front to back, and had even begun studying Harry’s country as well. Whether she liked it or not, she knew she would have to pick up his slack in governing his kingdom eventually, she might as well be good at it.

Four more years of education at Cambridge, brought four more years of growth and being free from Harry, but the deal she had made with her mother was quickly coming to a close. As soon as she finished her education, their engagement would be made official and wedding planning would commence. While she was tempted to beg for some sort of delay or escape, she understood this was her duty. She owed this to her people, and soon to Harry’s as well; her mother was counting on her.

For the first time in too many years, she stood inside her former and future home. She remembered running through the halls of the massive palace under the ornate ceilings that now hung above her again; reality was sinking in. Through the massive wooden doors that sat in front of her, she knew her fate awaited; a fate named Harry. With a deep breath she steeled herself and smoothed the blush pink lace skirt of her dress, preparing to see the face that had haunted her for so long.

The first thing she noticed was the playful smirk that she associated so closely with his taunts from when they were children. It was the smirk that made her stomach drop; she could only imagine the nasty things that could come past those lips now. He had years to practice.

He stood confidently next to her mother, who had a bright and triumphant grin on her face. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored forest green suit, decorated with his coat of arms pin on the lapel. She wished for the vibrance of his green eyes to lessen but the tone of his suit only made them more intense than she had remembered.

“Harry,” she breathed, as diplomatically and with as much confidence as she could muster. “It’s good to see you,” she lied, reaching her hand out for him to kiss in the antiquated custom that always made her deeply uncomfortable. He delicately grasped her hand and slowly brought it to his blushed lips, the kiss lingering longer than what could have been considered friendly. His snake-like eyes locked with hers, still containing the mischievous glint she had nightmares about. She couldn’t help but notice the hysterically hopeful smile on her mother’s face as she watched them interact.

“It’s always a pleasure, your highness,” he hummed. He must have remembered how uncomfortable that title made her. She was honestly impressed at how he managed to lie and antagonize her in the first sentence he had said to her in over six years.

“Please call me Y/N,” she instructed as politely as possible.

“As you wish,” he said with a conniving smirk on his face. She had been with him no more than two minutes and she already wanted to run for her life. But this wasn’t about her, her country would need a leader soon, and unfortunately, that had to be her.

Her mother rushed over excitedly between the two, breaking the contemptuous silence that had built between them. “Oh children, it’s so nice to see you two back together again. I remember when you used to play when you were little. Always teasing, like you had the biggest crushes on each other.” ‘Teasing’ is a nice way to refer to torture, Y/N thought to herself, never daring to verbalize a thought like that.

“We did always have fun didn’t we, Y/N?” Harry asked her, a thin glaze of politeness coating his malice.

“Oh yes, we did. I still have a scar on my thigh from when you pushed me off the monkey bars.” Her tone was tight lipped and curt, her politeness beginning to give way to the verbal lashing she was dreaming of giving him.

“You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly hit the ground. She knew he was a dirty good for nothing flirt, but in front of her mother? If her mother hadn't gently grasped both of their hands, she would have stomped out of the room. Her mother’s gentle touch brought her mind back to what this was all about once again.

“Harry is going to be staying with us from now on,” her mother interjected, clearly sensing the animosity between them. “Oh, and I nearly forgot! Harry, I believe you have something for Y/N, correct?”

“Of course.” He flashed his charming smiles at her poor mother, “How could I have forgotten about that?”

She watched him intently as he reached for the pocket inside his suit jacket, pulling out a small indigo colored velvet box. He opened the box with delicate hands to reveal one of the most gorgeous engagement rings Y/N had ever seen. A deep green emerald sat inside a ring of crystal clear diamond florets, all placed meticulously with care into a gold setting, the color of the velvet intensifying the emerald stone. “It was my grandmother’s,” he spoke softly, the first time she had ever heard him speak with any emotion or genuine feeling. “Before she died, she said she wanted you to have it. She was the mastermind of this arrangement afterall,” he said with a slight chuckle. “For formality’s sake,” he began with a sigh, “will you marry me?”

No, passed through Y/N’s head, but “Yes” fell from her lips. While her heart broke for herself and any chance she had of finding true love, the smile and happy tears in her mother’s eyes reminded her why she was doing all of this. She needs me to do this, Y/N thought to herself, my country is going to need a leader.

Their engagement was announced later that day by royal decree and their wedding was scheduled for the next month. There was no going back now.

The palace was in a flurry of planning and plotting for the big day. Y/N was rushed from meeting to meeting, instructed to make decisions about everything and anything she wanted for the wedding. She stared at floral arrangements until her eyes hurt and flipped through magazines looking at bridesmaid and flower girl dresses until her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Unsurprisingly to Y/N, Harry was there for almost none of it. Although, she wasn’t exactly complaining about his absence.

He only surfaced when food or his suit was involved. In one vile incident, he arrived at the cake tasting with a wad of gum in his mouth, which was not only strictly prohibited for royals because it could be perceived as being too casual, but Y/N almost called off the entire wedding when she watched him stick chewed bubble gum to the bottom of a 200 year old handcrafted dining table.

“Were you raised by wolves?” she asked through gritted teeth while scolding him and desperately trying to remove the mess.

“Nannies, actually.” She knew by the smirk on his face that he wasn’t done with whatever antagonistic taunts that were planned to fall from his lips. “I’m pretty wild in the bedroom too, wifey.”

His crude comments were meant to hurt her and make her uncomfortable. He knew from their time in school together that she was constantly watched and kept far away from the gaze of any peaking boys, shining a spotlight on the massive double standard between the pair of future rulers. She wore a cloak of inexperience and innocence given to her against her will that embarrassed her to no end, and he knew that the easiest way to pinken her cheeks was to mention sex in any way. He aimed to fluster the poor girl and he got away with it anytime he flashed his dimples in a devilish smirk.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and furry before she got up from the table and stormed out of the room, muttering “pick whatever fucking cake you want,” before flying down the hallway to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

She felt frustrated tears pricking at her eyes as she slid down the back of the heavy wooden door to the floor below her. She let the fabric of her once perfectly steamed dress crumple beneath her and before she let the floodgates of tears open, she looked down at the dainty silver watch that sat on her wrist. You have five minutes until your appointment with the dressmaker, she thought to herself. Three minutes to cry, two minutes to change into a new dress and fix your makeup.

For three minutes, she let all her anger, frustration, and heartbreak fall out of her in loud sobs that anyone on the other side of the door was sure to hear. For three minutes, she let herself feel every angry emotion she had ever felt towards Harry. For three minutes, she didn’t care about her country or her mother needing this wedding. For three minutes, she didn’t care about anything other than her hurt. But only for three minutes.

Then she wiped the tears away, picked herself up off the floor, dressed herself in her favorite navy blue dress, fixed her mascara, and pressed a cool cloth on her cheeks to quell their angry heat. And then she went to see the dressmaker.

The only joy Y/N got out of this whole ordeal was getting to see her dressmaker, Agnes. Agnes was a kind and quiet old woman who was one of the most talented people she had ever met. The pair would sit together for hours discussing styles, the only time her schedule allowed her to relax, and the woman was in the middle of crafting the gown of Y/N’s dreams. It was a lace long sleeved gown with a cathedral length train. The top portion of the lace was sheer, making a strapless neckline visible, before the delicately crafted lace moved crawled up Y/N’s neck into a high collar neckline. It was reserved, but elegant and unique; “just like you,” Agnes once said.

The first time Y/N was able to try the dress on was bittersweet. The dress was stunning and it made her feel like the princess she was, but she did shed a tear thinking about how this moment was tainted with Harry. She wouldn’t be wearing this dress while walking down the aisle to marry the love of her life, she was marrying someone she would consider an enemy.

She bowed down reverently when her mother placed a veil and tiara on her head. The tiara was encrusted with diamonds and speckled with emeralds that happened to match her engagement ring. The tiara was an heirloom and every woman in her family had worn it while getting married for the last two hundred years.

Her mother wept softly before her, a proud smile on her lips. “I’m so happy I get to see you in the wedding tiara before I go, sweetheart,” she said leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I know you and Harry aren’t always a perfect pair and neither were your father and I, but we made you.” The queen’s eyes flashed over her face trying to take her in, “And you turned out to be my proudest achievement and the savior of a nation.”

“Thank you, Mama.” She hadn’t called her mother by that name since she was a young girl but it just felt right at that moment. She felt like a child, needing someone to take care of her while she waited for a country to fall on her shoulders.

“I will always guide you through whatever I can,” she said tenderly. “Even when I’m not here, I will always be with you.” Y/N watched as her mother’s eyes welled with more tears, excusing herself quickly before they grew more intense.

Not more than five minutes later, she heard the obnoxious whistling that she had begun to hear in her nightmares from down the hall. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to burst through the door, not only interrupting her fitting, but seeing the dress before the wedding day.

Like all members of traditional royal families, Y/N was extremely superstitious. Her heart immediately broke as she watched his eyes look her up and down, like there was a little piece of her that thought if they did everything right and didn’t break any traditional rules, maybe they would work out. What hurt her even more was that he didn’t even try to leave. He just sat down on a chair, smacking his gum, and stared at her like he was doing nothing wrong. Her eyes were still filled with tears from the emotional moment with her mother and they continued to flow, no longer out of love, but out of anger and frustration.

“Agnes,” Y/N finally spoke, voice cracking as she tried to hold back her tears, “will you excuse us for a moment?”

“Yes, your highness,” Agnes took delicate steps backwards like she was expecting a bomb to go off, before turning around and scurrying out of the room. Her instincts were correct, because at that moment, Y/N exploded.

“What did I ever do to you Harry?” she questioned angrily. “Why are you so determined to absolutely ruin my life? It’s bad enough that I am having an arranged marriage, not even one that I have the tiniest bit of say in.” She watched Harry’s eyes grow wide, like he had never expected her to stand up to him. “I have spent my entire life being watched and guarded, and avoided by every man I’ve ever gotten close to because I was already claimed by someone who wanted nothing to do with me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had raised her voice like this at someone; she wasn’t sure if she ever had before. “You can’t even pretend that you like me or that we won't be miserable for our entire lives.”

“Y/N, I don’t want this either,” he spoke after a moment of silence, the quiet only broken by Y/N’s heaving breath. “Why can’t you just calm down?”

“Why can’t I calm down?” she repeated. “Maybe because my country is looking to me to become it’s queen. I can’t give myself to my people when I am worrying about you and your incompetence. You may not become king in your country for another 30 years; you have time to learn and grow into a ruler because you’re in my monarchy and you get to learn here first. You’re playing king with my people. Millions of people rely on us the second I am crowned and you act like your irresponsibility doesn’t have far reaching consequences.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” he spat back at her, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed in front of himself as he sat back in the chair. “I can’t believe I have to marry you and into this family.”

Y/N felt like she had been punched in the gut. She was stuck with this man for the rest of her life and here he was, disrespecting her, her people, and her family. “Get out,” she said under her breath. When he didn’t move from his seat, she began to yell once again, “Get out! I mean it!” She dropped her voice once again, and spoke more seriously than she ever had before. “I have never hated anymore more than I hate you, Harry. I am doing all of this because I love my country and my people, but I want you to know, I will never be happy because of you.”

For a moment, through her tears, it looked like he had been hurt because of her words, but he was gone from the room before she could confirm it.

She fell to her knees on the dress platform, surrounded by the piles of pure white fabric. She was a perfectly dressed ball of furry and sobs, angry at the world and her predicament. Leaning over and putting her head in her hands, she felt the tiara as it began to slip off her head, falling into her lap.

Y/N picked up the tiara, using gentle reverent hands, examining it closely. The tiara represented the monarchy and every female ruler in her family that had come before her. It shined and dazzled in the bright lights of the room, its crystal clear and emerald stones reflecting multi colored light onto the crisp white of the dress below her. “I’m doing this for you,” she whispered quietly to the tiara like it could answer, tears still silently rolling down her face.

***

They didn’t speak again for almost a week. They communicated solely through their royal secretaries, sending the poor men back and forth with angry messages, almost gossiping about what was happening with each member of the pair when they returned to the sender. Y/N hated Harry, Harry hated Y/N; the same sentiment sent back and forth over and over. The two were driving fast towards a brick wall, and the brick wall was their wedding.

When she woke up one morning about a week before their nuptials, there was a small envelope sitting on the ground like it had been slid underneath her bedroom door. We have to talk, was all it read. It was not lost on her that the stationary had a small olive branch illustrated onto the page.

Later that afternoon, they met in the garden. It felt like a neutral place to talk, the palace obviously being her territory. She had worn a casual flowing white dress, like she was raising a white flag; and she carefully walked with a mug of black coffee, a peace offering of sorts, careful not to get any of the dark liquid on the fabric of her dress.

She found him along a bed of purple Hyacinths, their sweet perfume enveloping them both, sitting on the soft ground dressed in the most casual clothes she had ever seen him in. He was wearing a simple lilac button up and a pair of jeans. He seemed more approachable this way, without the tailoring and the coat of arms that always sat on his lapel. The golden highlights in his curls came out in the sun and his tanned skin seemed to glow. He held a rose colored leather bound notebook in his hands.

“Hi,” she said softly, a sharp contrast to her screaming the last time they spoke. “I brought you a coffee. The nice ladies in the kitchen say you take it black.” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he gave her a friendly but unenthusiastic smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, as she handed him the hot mug.

“Can I sit?”

“I’m not in charge of you,” he mumbled into the cup taking a sip. It wasn’t until she noticed how his eyebrow shot up and how his eyes had a playful gleam in them, that her offence washed away. “Of course, you can sit down.”

“What’s the book for?” she asked gently once she settled on the ground a safe distance away from him. She decided a few grass stains were worth being on speaking terms with the man she was supposed to marry.

“Um, it’s actually for you.” He reached over and placed the book in her hands. She ran her hands over her initials that had been embossed onto the leather cover. “I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while,” he said quietly, “I remember you used to write a lot when we were in school together. I thought you would like it.” She felt a confusing mixture of thankfulness for the book, guilt for her outburst, and all the frustration that she still held towards him.

“Thank you, Harry. That was really thoughtful of you.”

A silence hung among them, neither of them sure of the next steps this conversation had to take.

“Can we talk?” Harry asked, finally breaking the tension between the pair.

“Yes, please,” she answered just as quickly as he had asked.

“I wanted to apologize for interrupting your fitting like that. I didn’t know all the traditions meant so much to you and I never meant to make you so upset.” She had never heard Harry apologize before, to anyone else, and definitely not to her.

Before that moment, she had always thought of him as an impenetrable force, wondering if there even was a soul or a conscience in his body. But here he was, vulnerability and all, offering an olive branch and an apology.

“Thank you,” she said cautiously, wading into the almost friendly waters she had never been in with him. “I’m sorry for screaming at you like that. I said some very hurtful things to you.”

“So have I.”

“I want you to know that I don’t hate you and I shouldn’t have said I did. But, I don’t necessarily like you either, Harry,” she said, deciding now was the time they needed to open the line of communication. One of them would eventually combust if they continued on with their hatred like this. “You have tortured me since we were little kids and it’s going to take me some time for me to get over that.” She watched as he nodded his head along with her words, seeming to listen intently.

“I feel like that is also something I should apologize for. No offence, but I didn’t want to get married to you either- still don’t, but I was much more of a dick about it then,” he let out a light laugh, flashing one of his famous dimples before releasing a sigh. “I took out not having control of my life out on you and I’m sorry.” She never thought she would receive validation for all the hurt he put her through for so long.

“Listen, we are getting married as part of a diplomatic partnership,” she began, “I feel like we should at least act diplomatic towards each other.”

“Does that mean that we have to be friends?”

“Definitely not. Just not enemies.”

“I think I can do that, wifey.”

***

The next week passed in a surprisingly civil blur for them both. Y/N was still in the throws of getting ready for a wedding and Harry was off doing whatever Harry usually did. She didn’t expect him to be doing much but she was just glad he was out of her hair. But when they did run into each other, usually at some sort of meeting surrounding the menu, they had a new found respect for the other.

The pair hadn’t been fighting which was nice for a change, even though it did raise some eyebrows in both of their staff. At her final dress fitting two days before the wedding Agnes had asked her if she was ready to be a married woman. “Absolutely not,” Y/N had laughed, “but it’s my responsibility to my people and my country. I have lived the most privileged life imaginable up until this point, it’s time for me to begin my duties.”

“You’re a good girl, your highness. You’re going to make a great queen when the time comes. Even with a husband you may have to wrangle sometimes.” She ended her compliments with a giggle as she zipped Y/N into the dress, and she felt her heart warm. Agnes placed the final touches of the veil and tiara on top of her head, giving her a nod of permission to finally look at herself in the mirror.

The dress fit her like a glove. The delicate lace ran the expanse of the dress, starting at the very back of her immensely long train and crawling its way all the way to Y/N’s throat, and the fitted top half gave way to a full ball gown skirt. Y/N’s eyes followed the intricate lace patterns down her arm, eyes eventually landing on her hand and the ring that sat upon it. For the first time since it had begun to sit on her ring finger, she didn’t want to throw it across the room in frustration. It really was gorgeous and the tiny inkling of respect she had for Harry now made it much less painful to look at.

Staring at the mirror, she noticed the blurring of her vision and the wetness on her cheeks.

“I really am getting married, aren’t I?” she asked with a disbelieving laugh.

“Yes you are, your highness.” Agnes looked up at her through her thick lensed glasses with a proud smile on her face. “Now, let’s get you out of this contraption so you can go rest up for the big day.” Anges’ skilled hands freed Y/N from the beautiful layers of fabric and tulle and sent her on her way back to her bedroom.

Y/N was finally almost asleep in the early hours of the morning when she heard a gentle and almost timid knock on her door. She could have ignored it, rolled back over and let her dreams take her, but for some reason it felt important for her to get out of bed and answer the door. Her bare feet hit the cold wood floors and she tip-toed her way to the door.

When she grabbed the knob to open it, she heard a familiar voice say “don’t open the door! I don’t think I’m supposed to see you,” in a hurried and hushed tone.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice was gravelly with exhaustion and had an apprehensive, almost nervous quality she had never heard from him before.

“Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He said it so softly she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if her ear wasn’t pressed up against the doorway. The sentiment brought a smile to her lips and she wasn’t completely sure why. She was quiet for a moment, deciding if she wanted to turn him away or not when she heard him sarcastically ask, “What? I’m not allowed to talk to my wife?”

“I’m not your wife yet,” she reminded him with a tired chuckle. “But we can talk,” she assured him. “I’m going to sit down, okay? My legs are tired from my heels all day.” She kneeled down and leaned herself up against the hard wooden door.

She had been in this same position only a few weeks before, angry at the world and wanting to kill the man on the other side of it; but here she was, speaking to him willingly, even joking with him. She listened close as his own body rested against the floor and leaned on the opposite side, mirroring her own position.

“Those heels really hurt, don’t they?” he asked, voice still hushed. If she wasn’t so tired, she might have even said she heard a smile in his voice.

“Yeah, they are like little death traps for your feet and legs.” He let out a small laugh on the other side and her lips pulled into a smile that she hadn’t given them permission for.

“How many pairs do you have? You always match your dress to your shoes so you must have a ton.”

She was gradually learning that he was much more observant than she had originally thought. He apparently wasn’t the dumb boy that she remembered from school anymore.

“Too many,” she said with a soft laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m wearing my favorites tomorrow.”

“And which ones are those?”

“They’re white, obviously; they have to match,” she smiled. “They have a green gem at the toes. They match the tiara I’ll be wearing.” She stopped for a moment before continuing on. “And your grandmother’s ring.” She played with the gold band that sat on her ring finger, still somehow dazzling in the very limited light of her dark room. “Thank you, by the way. It’s gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome. She wanted you to have it.”

“Did she really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said confidently on the other side of the door. She imagined him nodding along with his words to emphasize his point, as he often did while speaking. “She kept tabs on you while we were growing up. She was always talking about how smart you seemed and that you would be a good queen one day. If I didn’t know better, I would say she liked you more than me growing up.” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up with the information. She was flattered by his grandmother’s opinion of her, but her heart also ached for Harry.

“I’m sure that's not true.”

“I think it was. I was always screwing up in one way or another; always creating messes that her and my parents had to clean up.” He paused for a moment and she heard him let out a long sigh. “Always running around with other girls and making the one I was supposed to marry feel like shit.”

She wished she could see his face. She wished that she could get a read on his emotions. But there was, literally and figuratively, a wall between them.

“Y/N,” she heard his voice squeak out through a voice crack, “I really am sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”

“I know. I forgive you, Harry.”

Saying those four words, lifted a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying off her shoulders. This moment felt like an absolution, a time to wipe their long and complicated slate clean. There was no better time for them to start anew than the night before they began the next chapter of their lives. But this chapter would be together, as a pair and a team.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry too, Harry. I know this all had to happen so fast so I could take the throne, but I know you thought you had more time. I thought I did too.”

“What do you mean? Why did it have to happen so fast?” he asked.

First, Y/N was confused. There was a very obvious answer. Then her heart began to break for him. He wasn’t ready at all for what was coming. No one must have told him.

“Harry,” she said softly, “Do you know about my mother?”

“What do you mean?” From the tone in his voice, she knew he genuinely didn’t know.

“My mom-” she began gently, swallowing the lump in her throat that always appeared when she began to talk about this, “My mom is dying, Harry.” She heard a soft gasp through the door before she went on. “She’s been sick for a while, but things are getting really bad. Her doctors think she only has a couple weeks left.”

She listened to his breathing stop, like his mouth was hung open searching for something to say. He was quiet for a few moments before he landed on what seemed like the only thing he had said over and over these last few weeks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you if you need to talk about all of this.”

His offer was not lost on her. The idea of Harry being someone she could confide in was a new one, but one that she would consider.

“It’s okay.” She choked out, wiping a few stray tears that had found their way out, off her cheeks. “I have had enough time to come to terms with it. But in our archaic constitution,” she said with a biting distaste in her voice, “a woman cannot become the sovereign of the country if she isn't married. That’s why this all had to happen so fast.”

“I see.”

The pair were quiet, both curled up on opposite sides of the wall; simultaneously experiencing a unique type of loneliness that only the other could understand. In less than 12 hours, they would be married, linked by an oath that neither of them had signed up for, in circumstances with responsibilities that neither of them were ready to handle.

“Harry,” she peeped, breaking a silence that hung heavy over them both, “you should go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

She listened through the door to the rustling of him getting up off the floor beside her. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“So will I. I’ll see you at the altar, wifey.”

She let out a strangled laugh at the nickname he had adopted for her, her throat still tight from crying. She listened to his foot falls until they disappeared down the hallway before she mustered the strength to drag herself back to bed. Her staff was on strict orders from the wedding planner to have her woken up at 8 to begin getting ready and she wanted to get some rest before the sun came up.

And like clockwork, her curtains were thrown wide open at 8 am, sunlight blinding her as she woke up. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to her rude awakening, but soon she could make out the bustling room around her. Hair stylists, makeup artists, bridesmaids, flower girls, her mother, and some lady with an ear piece and a clip board fluttered about her bedroom with an excited chatter. Taking in the chaotic scene, it really hit her. Holy shit, I’m getting married today, she thought.

Her stomach twisted and turned in knots as the gaggle of women fawned over her, instructing her to stay still and “stop shaking” as they applied layers of makeup and fussed with her hair. Her hair was pulled into a delicately crafted low bun and her eyes were painted with neutral tones and a little bit of shimmer. Diamond and emerald earrings were threaded through her ear lobes and her fingernails were inspected to see if they needed any touch ups. Her shaky body was zipped into her dress and her feet slipped into her heels while her cathedral length veil was pinned meticulously into her hair. She was only missing one last thing.

“Your tiara, your highness,” her mother joked through the happy and proud tears welling up in her eyes. The tiara was the one last thing she needed before she was sent on her way to the cathedral. She bent down slightly, her mother delicately crowing her; when she rose, she couldn't help but grab onto her mother and hold her tight. It was hard for her not to think about the next time she would be crowned, a time when her mother wouldn’t be there to offer the guidance or support Y/N needed.

“I love you, Mama,” was all she said. It was the only reason all of this was happening. She loved her mother too much to let her down.

“I love you more, my princess,” her mother said gently, before turning away and scurrying off to do something else. Y/N tried to ignore the wince on her face when she moved too fast and the slight wheeze she made when she was speaking.

Surveying the scene around her, Y/N felt like she was about to die. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears, her palms were slick with sweat, her breathing was labored, and her chest felt tight. She had never been so overwhelmed with anxiety before. She had known today was coming her entire life, but the fact that it really was here was too much for her brain to wrap itself around.

It was like she had blacked out from fear, an hour of her life completely unaccounted for. She didn’t remember the last minute checks and touches to her hair and makeup. She didn’t remember her mother delicately resting her veil over her face. She didn’t remember getting in the car bringing her to the cathedral. She didn’t remember someone shoving a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She didn’t remember the music starting up or walking down the aisle of the giant imposing and ornate cathedral.

She was only brought back to reality when she reached the imposing altar and Harry delicately took her hand into his. His green eyes were painted with concern when he saw the worried crease between her eyebrows and the way she was chewing on her bottom lip under her sheer veil, swiping his thumb up and down her skin in an attempt to soothe her. It was the first time he had ever touched her voluntarily; it was a gentle and tender touch, full of care. She gripped back tight onto his hand, holding on for dear life as she thought over everything that was about to happen.

They were instructed to stand forward, watching the officiant as he droned on about love and duty to one’s country and spouse, but their hands stayed clasped tight onto each other, like they were being thrown into a stormy and unpredictable sea and the other’s hand was their only life line. And in a way, they were.

When they were told to turn towards each other to begin their vows, their eyes locked and she began to really look at him for the first time. She watched his plush lips closely as he recited the words fed to him from the officiant, although she didn’t hear a single word of them. Her eyes traced his strong cheekbones and landed on his adorable button nose before returning back to his eyes. She noticed the slight blue bags that sat under them, signaling he had just as much trouble sleeping as she did.

His eyes brought her a calm that she hadn’t felt in years, silently telling her that she wasn’t alone in all of this, his warm hands still holding on to hers punctuating that sentiment. There wasn’t anyone else in the massive cathedral but the pair of them anymore, just two scared kids trying to make it through the demands weighing on their shoulders together.

Shaky hands exchanged rings, her heart stopping for a moment when the ring caught and didn’t slide onto his finger gracefully. But her heart regained it’s rhythm when she heard a light chuckle coming from the man across from her, a gentle smile that was just big enough to flash a dimple at her, signaling that it would be okay.

She recited her vows without much thought, letting ‘I do,’ slip past her lips while still entranced by Harry’s intense yet comforting gaze. She watched his strong hands disconnect from hers as he lifted the lace trimming on the veil covering her face, dark lashes flickering down to her glossed lips. She let her eyes fall closed as he leaned in towards her and rested a hand on her cheek, prompted by the officiant and clapping coming from the pews, bracing herself for a feeling of disgust she hoped wouldn’t come.

He carefully connected their lips softly with a sweetness that felt gentle, tender, and caring. But there was more to the kiss than a softness, there was a respect there as well. His hand felt secure and protective on her cheek, and he pulled away with a smile after a short time, sure not to overwhelm her. The feeling of disgust in her belly that she was waiting for never came; if she didn’t know better she would say she felt an excited flutter.

They stood on the altar for a moment and just stared at each other, excited and relief filled smiles creeping into their lips, his dimples prominent. “Shall we, wifey?” Harry beamed with a sigh, extending a hand to lead her back down the aisle, now as a married woman.

“We shall, husband,” she giggled back, cheeks still a fiery red from their contact. Calling him her husband felt foreign, but not unwelcome.

Harry held her hand tight, keeping her in the moment by the warm contact. He held her hand down the aisle and all the way back to the palace, all throughout the signing of their marriage license, and all throughout the many, many photos taken of the two and their wedding party. She found comfort in his warm touch, continuing to ground her through the chaos that unfolded around them. Even when they had briefly disconnected from each other, he was always close by, only a call of his name away.

She was shocked by how careful he was around her giant dress, taking calculated steps to avoid dirtying the crisp white fabric. He was playing the role of a dutiful husband, and was seeming to enjoy it.

They spent the next hours just following orders from wedding planners, shuffled around from place to place, constantly surrounded by people. All she wanted was a moment to speak to him alone, but it seemed far out of reach.

That moment finally came in the middle of a dance floor, with hundreds of eyes staring at them as they danced. They swayed together slowly, a gentle rock to the delicate sound of strings. “Thank you for staying by me all day, Harry,” she said quietly, hoping that no one could hear them over the music.

“No need to thank me, wifey,” he said with a chuckle, his lips grazing against her ear as he spoke. She chuckled like always at the name and shook her head.

“I mean it. I don’t think I would have been able to get through all of this,” she said looking out at the crowd watching them and the giant ornately decorated ballroom they were in the center of, “if you hadn’t been by my side.”

“I quite like it, actually. I could get used to standing with you.” He said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, while her heart just about stopped.

She wasn’t able to answer before the music slowed to a stop and they were pulled apart by their mothers and dragged off to speak to “very important” people. He seemed just as disappointed as she was when they were separated.

When they finally found each other again, Y/N had changed. She had abandoned her massive conservative skirt of tulle and lace for a creamy silk gown that she could actually move in. It was a simple a-line v-neck dress with cap sleeves, but the back held a deep V that ended at the small of her back coupled with a loosely tied bow.

The cool breeze on her back made her feel sexy. She knew she was pushing the boundaries on what was appropriate for a princess and she loved it.

“My darling, you look gorgeous,” he said, taking her hand and spinning her so he could fully take in the new dress, mindful of her tiara and trying his best not to knock it off. Her cheeks burned at his flattery, something he could surely feel when he pulled her close and pressed a delicate kiss on her cheek.

“You’re just saying that,” she said bashfully staring down at the floor, deflecting the compliment easily.

“Wifey,” he singsonged the teasing nickname that had evolved into a term of endearment. He lifted her chin to look up at him and he looked down at her with the most honest expression she had ever seen him wear. “You look beautiful. You have all day.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She spoke quietly, barely audible, unsure what to make of her husband’s compliments. He leaned in to her, layed a tender kiss on her forehead, and dragged her across the room to the dance floor.

They stayed on the dancefloor most of the night, almost always touching in some sort of way, while dancing and celebrating with their friends and family.

And Y/N was happy; a genuine type of happiness that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously, this wasn’t ideal. She was now married to a man she knew virtually nothing about, who had been a sworn enemy of hers only a few days ago, and had only begun enjoying his company last night. But happiness isn’t linear, she thought to herself.

Their night had passed in a joyous and opulent blur that went late into the night; full of food, dancing, and a swimming pool's worth of champagne.

Eventually both of them were led, by dutiful staff as they were both quite drunk and couldn’t exactly be trusted to make it on their own, to their new bedroom, or bedrooms depending on who you asked. They were led into the massive room consisting of two separate suites connected by a dressing room of sorts in a cloud of giggles, finding themselves in a fit of laughter after passing a portrait in the hall of some distant ancestor who had an amusing mustache.

“Thank you for leading us back,” she said, trying to gain a sober composure to the men who had flanked them on their way back, “you can go now.” The men shared a look between themselves that seemed to say ‘someone should be watching them,’ but followed the princess’ orders anyway.

“I just can’t understand how he got it to curl like that,” Harry cackled, beginning to wheeze from his hysterics and slightly stumbling as he was doubled over.

“Maybe it was natural like your curls,” she suggested, through her giggling hiccups that she let return when their staff left the room. “I quite like your curls, ya know? I like it when you let them grow a bit.”

They were still holding hands, despite being alone in their new found privacy, no longer needing the support from the other to shield them from the pressure of looking eyes.

“Then I’ll have to grow them out a bit,” he said, a smile still beaming at her with droopy drunk eyes. He tugged on her hand softly, bringing her body into his and setting his hand on the exposed skin of the small of her back. His hands were warm and soft and in the moment, she never wanted his hand to move from that spot again. “I can’t refuse the princess’ orders.” His voice had dropped low, not to a whisper but to a soft and lazy volume that made her feel safe.

Their faces were close and she could smell his strong vanilla and sandalwood cologne coming off him that she wanted to envelop herself in. He looked back down at her with a face that was loving, but she attributed it to the alcohol in his system. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with adoration for this man who she had spent so much of her life violently hating. Admiring and adoring him was much easier on her soul than harboring the hatred that had eaten at her for so long.

“I have another order,” she spoke quietly, letting the words tumble from her lips without her usually logical brain’s permission, “I want you to kiss me. For real this time.”

His lips were on hers as soon as the words left her own. It was sloppy and sweet, but with a passion behind it that Y/N felt in her bones. Their lips moved in a drunken rhythm, with Harry’s aimless wandering hands sliding up and down the silk of her dress before resting on her waist and pulling her impossibly closer to him. Her hands found and twirled the few of Harry’s curls that remained after they had cut his hair shorter than usual for the ceremony at the base of his neck and sunk her fingers into it, pulling him further into the kiss by his hair.

It was not long before their tongues found each other and the kiss deepened into a desperate dance of gasping for breath and soft moans into each other’s mouths. Harry’s mouth left hers and began to press sloppy open mouthed kisses down her neck while fiddling with the bow at the back of her gown that would release it from her frame.

Feeling him fuss with the bow made her pounding heart shift from one of excitement, to one of panic. This was too soon, she didn’t know him well enough. She didn’t know his favorite color or any of his hobbies. She didn’t know how he liked his tea, or if he drank it at all. She didn’t even know his middle name.

Her fuzzy mind couldn’t deny how much she didn’t know about him or the anxiety that made her want to pull away from the man and run.

“Harry,” she breathed, voicing the apprehension and anxiety that had begun to rise in her chest, “please stop.” She had squeaked out the words, a mix of embarrassment and panic taking over her slightly slurred words.

His hands froze, pulling himself back quickly from her, a mix of worry and guilt on his face. “Did I do something wrong? I just thought…” he let his words drop off, his own fuzzy mind not sure of what to say either.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes became glassy.

She was embarrassed to admit it, but the kiss on the altar that morning was the first time she had ever had another pair of lips on her own. Her entire life she had been shielded from men with any interest in her, her affection already spoken for and claimed. No man had ever held her hand romantically, or danced with her, or kissed her with the passion Harry just had.

Harry had lived a life with freedom that she had never been granted. She remembered all the times she had watched him interact with various girlfriends at school, and remembered the shame she had felt when he had ended up on the cover of tabloids after he was photographed naked and kissing a random woman on a yacht. Every article had ended with the same line that she still knew by heart.

“The prince is arranged to marry Princess Y/N when she comes of age in an effort to unify their countries.”

They had lived very different lives, with very different freedoms up until this point. It was sexist and archaic and unfair, but she couldn’t deny the impacts it had on her while she was around Harry. Even though she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to feel something real for him and she believed that he felt the same; she didn’t fully trust him like that yet. She couldn’t.

“I’ve never done any of this before, Harry. This morning was my first kiss.” Her cheeks burned in a mixture of embarrassment and shame as she spoke the words. “I like you a lot, but today has been nerve wracking and scary enough. I just can’t add another new thing into the mix, especially that. It’s just all too much. I’m sorry.”

Her sheltered and delicate heart couldn’t even bring herself to say the word ‘sex’.

As he listened to her explanation, his features softened. They were no longer fearful that he made a mistake or crossed a boundary, but they moved into a soft and caring smile.

“Y/N, my darling,” he began in a soft and sweet voice, “come here.” He beckoned her with open arms to rest up against his chest again. She had curled her arms in front of herself, holding them close to her body, as she walked into his arms and let herself be enveloped by them while resting her head on his chest. “You are my wife now, but I think we both understand that we are not exactly in this position by choice. I would never ask you to do something you are uncomfortable with and I am sorry that I crossed a boundary.”

“Thank you,” she peeped before he continued on.

“Also, I heard that part when you said you liked me a lot,” she could hear the smirk in his voice, making her cheeks inexplicably hotter. “And I like you a lot too.”

The pair stood in that hold long enough for them to lose track of time, just resting against each other in silence, listening to the other’s breathing. The silence that enveloped them was comforting, but Harry eventually spoke again, inexplicably soft and gentle in tone.

“Y/N, I really want to try to make us work.”

“So do I, Harry.”

The pair stood together in their stillness and peaceful quiet, until she let out a small yawn.

Harry released her from his grasp and began walking around the room, opening wardrobes and dressers searching for something. He breathed a small triumphant noise when he opened a drawer, spinning around with a light pink and baby blue nightgown in his hands.

“Do you need any help getting out of your dress? Would I be allowed to help?” His face was so thoughtful, carefully navigating the boundaries she had made him aware of but not set in stone yet.

She took the nightgown from his hands and slipped it over her head, the silk dress beneath it. “I just need help untying the bow.” Her voice was still low, a quiet and delicate murmur.

His hands carefully untied the bow, turning around for modesty’s sake, only turning back around when he heard the silk hit the floor.

She had begun carefully removing the bobby pins that still held her bun together, causing them both to giggle when her hair was finally released into a giant poof of curls and hair spray.

She looked so sweet to him. This was the first time he had seen her relaxed like this, no longer in a fancy dress, heels, and her hair and makeup done to perfection. She looked like a real person to him, not a princess who would soon become queen.

He moved gingerly towards the door of her room, but not before pressing one more soft kiss to her lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, wifey.”

“Can’t wait, my husband,” she called from under the covers, watching him close the door behind him.

***

The two were sitting on a hot beach, baking in the sun when the call came.

It was day four of their honeymoon and a week after their wedding, spending their time alone together on a small island in the sun neither of them could remember the name to. It was a paradise straight out of a movie, and she swore nothing could ruin it.

They spent their days learning each other well, often joking that they should make up trivia quizzes for each other to see who knew the other best. She had learned that Harry’s eyes lit up like a child when he saw any type of animal, especially the small lizards that would run across the deck hanging off the back of their small beach house. It was also a surprise when she found out he loved to cook, whipping up a meal that could rival some of the chefs at the palace for dinner one night.

But her favorite thing she had learned about him by far, was how he sang in the shower. He had a low and melodic voice that he didn’t know traveled into the house from the outdoor shower. She would sit by the window closest to him, often pretending to write in the pink notebook he had given her in the garden, close her eyes and appreciate the man’s voice. She swore if he wasn’t a prince, he would be a singer.

In the time since their nuptials, the pair had become lovers. Always attached at the hip and sneaking kisses; they were blissfully and unstoppably becoming increasingly obsessed with the other. The word ‘love’ often played at Y/N’s lips, seeming to always be only a drink away from letting it slip out towards him.

Every day, they would walk down a short path from their house to a pristine white sand beach, picnic basket in hand, and sit. Sometimes they would sit in silence, just staring at the clear blue ocean, and other times they would talk about everything and anything that came to mind, or they would read silently next to each other. But they were always holding onto each other; sometimes it was a hand placed gently on the other’s thigh, or fingers intertwined between them.

The shrill ring of Y/N’s phone broke their fantasy while sitting on the beach on the fourth afternoon. Her heart dropped as soon as she heard it, knowing that the palace had agreed not to bother them unless the worst case scenario was happening.

She closed her eyes and braced herself, tears already threatening to breach her eyes, as she answered the phone with shaky hands. “Hello?” she choked out.

“Your highness, you need to come home.” She immediately recognized the panicked voice of her mother’s secretary on the other end. “It’s happening.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to remain as composed as possible. “We’re leaving now.”

Harry’s face held a furrowed brow and concerned eyes as she spoke. He immediately began rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of her palm like he had done on their wedding day, but today, it did nothing to soothe her pain and anxiety.

She hung up the phone before letting out a heart wrenching cry. “We have to go home,” she sobbed. “She is dying.”

The entire journey home was silent after Y/N had composed herself on the beach.

She sat emotionless, staring straight ahead, flinching away every time Harry moved to touch her. She spoke only when absolutely necessary, but her voice brought no tone with it. She had become a shell of herself, losing the warmth behind her eyes that had begun to appear after the wedding.

She felt empty, like she had lost the ability to think, while simultaneously feeling so overwhelmed, by thoughts of her future as queen and the loss of her mother. She had become blank, inside and outside, the happiness she had begun to build for herself with Harry, melting away and leaving the hollowness of grief and dread.

It took them about twelve hours to reach the palace from the time she hung up the phone, but it wasn’t fast enough. The second she stepped out of the car, she saw the guards outside the palace dressed in their black uniforms that were reserved only for the passing of the sovereign. She closed her eyes silently, as if when she opened them up again their uniforms would turn back to their usual blue and maroon; but they didn’t, their clothing still black as night.

Her heels clicked the pavement, maintaining her immaculate posture and steely blank expression as she entered the palace, the loving man she had been excited to have a life with trailing mournfully behind her. She watched as if she was out of her body when she passed people, all now dressed in black, in the hall. They all acted the same.

First, they would give her the saddest look, silently extending their sympathies to the daughter who just lost her mother, and then bowing their heads in respect to the now reigning queen.

“I need to see my mother,” was all she said, before being led into her bedroom.

She hadn’t remembered when her father had died, too young to understand. All she could wrap her head around was that her Daddy had an accident and wasn’t coming home. But she remembered her mother’s cries, loud and earth shattering sobs that traveled up and down the hallways of the palace for all to hear.

She looked like she was just sleeping; arms peacefully crossed over her chest and eyes shut gently. But she was cold when Y/N reached for her hand. She tenderly brought her mothers hand to her lips, and pressed a final kiss to her hand, before walking blankly out of the room.

Her mother was gone. And the country fell onto her shoulders.

She heard Harry saying something as he followed close behind her. While she heard him, she didn’t process a thing he said. She stalked towards their bedroom which was unfortunately on the other side of the palace, locked in her daze. He trailed close behind her the entire way, trying to say anything that could break through to her, and stood dutifully outside the door of her side of the bedroom for an unknown amount of time after she had shut it in his face.

***

She didn’t speak, or show emotion, or allow anyone at all to touch her for three days. Only nodding or shaking her head in response to the rapid firing of questions she was asked about planning her mother’s funeral. Harry only saw glimpses of his wife, or the shell of Y/N that she had become, usually while she shut the door to her bedroom between them.

He left his door open all day everyday.

When he awoke the morning of the funeral and found her bedroom door open, his heart jumped. He slowly walked inside to find her in a room full of black dresses. Dresses had been laid carefully over every surface for her to choose from; the dress she would wear to her mother’s funeral and her first public appearance as queen.

“Good morning,” was all he said, quiet and careful.

The person that looked back at him was someone he didn’t recognize. The light was gone from her eyes, and she wasn’t the woman he was head over heels in love with anymore. She looked like her, but emanated sadness and anxiety like nothing he had ever seen before. Dark blue bags held under her eyes from not sleeping, her hair was tied behind her head in a messy unkempt ponytail, and she was dressed in a giant and ill fitting nightgown, shoulders bent down in a fashion that made her look small. The only feature of the put together, confident, and commanding woman he was married to that remained was the bright emerald ring that sat on her ring finger.

“I can’t decide what to wear,” she said without expression, but the tears started to fall down her face before she could finish the sentence. Harry moved quickly across the room to her when he saw her knees began to shake, catching her just in time as they gave out and she fell into his arms, settling them both onto the soft carpeted ground. That was when her heaving sobs began. It was a bone rattling cry that consumed her wholly and her exhausted and hurting brain could only put together two thoughts: she missed her mom, and she didn’t want to take on all this responsibility alone.

She sobbed into his shirt, holding onto the soft and worn fabric of his t-shirt for dear life, and he held her close to his body, slowly rubbing her back and letting all of the emotion fall out of her. She cried for a long time, giving herself a pounding headache, and when the tears finally began to slow she connected her tearful ones with Harry’s ever vibrant green eyes and mumbled, “I just thought I had more time with her. And I thought we had more time to just be us.”

“I know you did, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reveled in being able to touch her again, as his heart broke a little every time she would pull away from his touch.

“I’m not ready, Harry. I can’t do this all alone. It’s too much.” She spoke softly, shaking her head from side to side, still choking back sobs as she tried to regain her composure.

“You’re not doing anything on your own. The second we were married, your problems and responsibilities became mine too,” he assured her. He moved to grab her left hand in his own and showed her the rings that sat on their hands. “Remember these?” he breathed with a light chuckle. “You’re stuck with me for life, whether you like it or not.”

He watched as she processed the realization that he was there to lighten the load. It was like a lightbulb had gone off for her, slowly nodding along with what he said. She let her eyes fall to the dresses that surrounded her, but he gently took her chin and directed her eyes back to his. “Y/N, we are a team. I am always here for you and I always will be.”

He took a deep long breath before continuing on, “I love you.”

She didn’t think when she pressed her lips to him, she just did, desperate to be close to him again. A coldness had swallowed her for days, and his words brought back the smallest feeling of warmth, a glimpse of hope she had been desperate to find.

She had known the passing of her mother was coming for years, her illness getting progressively worse over time. She had always believed it would bring more pressure, weighing down on her heavier than ever before. But looking at their rings and the man before her, she was hit by the fact that she never had to carry the weight of the country all by herself. She had Harry the whole time. He was her partner; in life and in power.

“I love you, too,” she said after breaking the kiss, salty from all her tears. She was quiet and her voice was still shaking and unsteady from her sobs, but he was there, holding her and keeping her safe.

He held her hand, slotting their fingers together as he picked them both up off the ground and helped her pick a dress. It was a black blazer dress that fell below her knees with three crystal buttons going down the left side. Harry carefully helped her into the dress, his warm and respectful hands sliding up her bare skin as he pulled it up over her shoulders. He then sat her on her bed, and began to carefully brush out her hair, doing his best to work through knots without hurting the girl who was already hurting enough. And he held one of her hands gently while she sat at her vanity and did her makeup with her free one. He refused to leave her side.

Harry stayed firmly planted by her side throughout the entire day, not daring to leave her while she needed him. He knew that photos of him holding her hand tight during the funeral would make the press, and the photos of him wiping away her tears as they left would make the front page, but he didn’t care. She might be the queen, but she was also his Y/N.

***

Their fingers were always locked together, Harry’s thumb passing back and forth over the back of her hand in the steady rhythm he always used when she was stressed. He was there whenever she needed him, gently taking hold, to remind her that he was there and they were a team.

He cradled her hand as she crushed his, gritting through the most excruciating pain she had ever experienced. It felt like her entire body was being ripped apart from the inside out, but Harry’s hand was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was screaming and crying in the small crowded room, feeling like a science experiment as all the doctors looked on at her pain.

But it all stopped when she heard the smallest little cry.

Then shouts of “It’s a girl!”

Exhausted and elated tears flowed freely from her eyes that were locked on the slimy little baby a nurse was burredly placing on her chest. She was so small, delicate and breakable, with strong lungs that screamed out to announce her entrance into the world. And when her eyes opened for the first time, they revealed the same bright sea glass green tone that matched her father, the green she had been falling in love with and swimming around in for years.

This baby was so much more than just a little girl, not only to them, but to their countries. She would forge a kingdom united in the future, a product of peace and partnership. She was a symbol of unity and a future of kindness between their countries. She was the future.

But for right now, the tiny baby was just theirs.

She felt him press a proud kiss to her head before she connected their lips together in a tear filled kiss before they both looked back to their new pride and joy who was still screaming for all the attention.

“She’s beautiful, darling,” he whispered quietly though tears next to her, hand still grasped tightly onto hers. “You did such a good job.”

“Literally couldn’t have done it without you,” she chuckled, still staring down, entranced by the little girl who looked like her daddy.

The pair stayed with their baby, quiet and just being, long after the doctors and nurses left the room. They learned she liked to scream and sleep, about as much as you could learn about someone only hours old. But she didn’t have a name. They had been debating for the last nine months over what the little princess would be called.

“I think she should be named after your mother,” Harry would say.

“But I think she should be named after your grandmother,” She would reply.

Their roundabout banter never left the pair, only changed; from malicious and teasing, to one of loving partnership.

“So neither?” he quipped with a small smirk while holding the little girl tight to his chest.

“I guess we have to compromise; diplomatically,” she said with a giggle, alluding to how they got to this position in the first place.

“I feel like a loving marriage and a new baby is pretty good for diplomatic relations.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Please send feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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