#and i think it was placed in the book near the first symphony of the dream

[thecherrygod]

I dreamt i was playing music and i porque like three different songs: a symphony, a concerto, and the third one idk what it was, bit apparently it was called Laboratorium Symphonioum, and it was used in a lot of movies that had angry bees in them, and that one of those movies came out every year. But. They were. B movies. About bees.

#my posts #my dreams #... i don't remember what any of them sounded like #dream me could apparently tell the difference between a symphony and a concerto. i can't even tell you if they're different or not #i don't have a lot of music knowledge tbh #but. the thing for bees... #also they were made with bad CGI bc it really was like 'it's so bad it makes them good' #also the dream was in spanish bc well main language so i only realized the pun once i woke up and thought 'b movie' help #anyways! it wasnt all cgi bees tho so i met some bees i thing #i had gloves on and lightly puahed them in a sort of tube as to release them later and felt them buzzing sorta #laboratorium symphonioum tho wtf was up with that #editting my tags to add more bc i remember a few things #i dont think i was actually playing anything. i was reading music and there was a director? and the music sorta just came out while i read #also most likely than not laboratorium symphonioum was a symphony too both bc the name #and i think it was placed in the book near the first symphony of the dream #but that first symphony was the last one

[smellystars]

Get Some Relief

Credit: @theleomars

You came to the bedroom holding a can of ginger ale and some antiacids in hopes of being of help. You placed them on the bedsidetable and laid down on the couch with him, touching his thick thigh to let him know you were there.

“How are you feeling?”

He just looked at you and with a grimace on his face and closed his eyes.

*BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMPPPPPT! BRRRPPTT!*

Two rumbles, one larger than the other, shook the bedframe and singlehandedly elevated the room’s temperature. The first one, 8 seconds long and resembling the sound of motorcycle, managed produce the stench of spoiled meat, while the second, only two seconds in length, somehow was warm enough to to undo a few of threads on the the couch.

You had to admit it was partially your fault too. You loved Angelo, but knew people would question you for dating a man with such powerful gas, so you asked him to hold it in in public, especially around your family. You knew very well what that meant once you returned home, he would let it all loose, and possibly destroy the apartment once again.

“I think today is gonna be one of the worst night babe” He said, before grabbing the ginger ale and taking a few sips

You already knew the drill, you quickly got up to to take the picture frames off the walls and try to ensure all glass was on the floor so it would not break from the vibrations caused by your boyfriends fart hurricanes. No sooner did you stand that you were knocked over by a huge invisible force.

*BBBBBBBOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRPPPP!*

His lips had parted to let out a large 5 second belch that had enough strength to know you over along the books on the bookshelf across the room.

“Ahh that’s better” he sighed with relief.

“I am glad my love” you said,regaining your composure and resuming your goal of ensuring the mess that was bound to happen did not get worse. You were comin in and out of the room, trying to put the plants out into the balcony, when you noticed he had his leg lifted into the air, knee touching his chest.

BrbrbrbrbBRBRBRBbrbrbrbrbrBRBRBRBRBBRBRBRBRBbbbbbrrrrrrrrrBRBRBRBRbrrr

A long, bubbly fart fluttered out his shorts, the smell of digested meat only getting more intense even with balcony door open. The sound was loud enough you saw the apartment walls shake a bit, the book you left on the coffee table being blown open and a few of the cars parked outside the building having their alarms triggered.

You saw ripples being sent down the his shorts’ fabric as the bubbly symphony went on for what felt like multiple minutes. Fuck, how did such a handsome man manage to rip such beastly farts? It continued for a few seconds until it came to a close.

“Sorry babe”

“It’s okay babe, just try and hold the next till i get all the plants out, don’t want any more wilting”

“I hope the neighbors don’t complain” Said Angelo with a hint of worry.

“Trust me, if I lived near someone with farts like yours the last thing I would want is to make that person upset” You said, trying to cheer him up.

Once done with the plants you move on to the frames. You two had learned your lesson after a particularly gassy night, where a forty second monster of a fart exited Angelo’s rear end and managed to shake the walls violently enough to cause most frames to fall an break.

As you were in the middle of it you noticed Angelo biting his lower lip, one eye closed and leg raised again, this time his knee digging into his belly.

*bbbbbrrrrr-

BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMTTTTTTTTTT!!*

What started out as a small buzz turned into pure ass rippage as the gas rushed from Angelo’s stomach down to his anus and proceeded to make an scandalous exit. The fart lasted well over a minute, with the smell only getting worse. What shocked you the most was the sheer strength of it; however, as it managed to push you against the wall and hold you there throughout its duration.

After what felt like hours, his stinky symphony came to an end releasing you from your suspended prison cracks forming across the apartment walls. “Baby come to bed” your boyfriend spoke laying motioning you to join him on your smelly stained mattress. Before getting into bed you walked around ensuring anything that could fall was removed from high ground and opening every window in your apartment.

“It’s going to be a long night” you said while climbing into bed snuggling with your still booted boyfriend. You start rubbing his stomach hoping to help with his gas until,

FFFFFFRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOWWWPPPPPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

A loud burst of gas shook the bed and floor and stopped just as quickly as it started. “Sorry” Angelo says as you both drift to sleep in each other embrace. The suns bright rays signals the start of a new day as you turn to look at Angelo’s glowing face. You don’t take a second to kiss him and despite the constant needing the grab the sheets from flying away during the night. You turn over to look at your phone lined with notification.

“Good Morning babe” Angelo says smiling widely while stretching. “Whew I feel so much better now. What are you looking at?” You show him the countless reports about constant shaking throughout the night and a horrid odor that swept the street and currently still lingers. Angelo laughs nervously, “Well, better out than in, right?”

#male farts #malehyperfarts #fart story #hyperfarts

[cool-fancier]

A Butterfly’s Embrace

Synopsis: Childhood love, Bada, struggled with depression. A rediscovered necklace sparks memories, her ghostly presence consoles heartache.

Your relationship with Bada began in the peaceful environment of a tiny suburban town, when childhood friendships were created and memories were carved in the canvas of time. Both of you were brought together by the natural currents of fate, and your paths crossed in fourth grade.

The first meeting was pleasant like the first notes of a melody yet to be written. You were the quiet and wary newcomer, nervously wandering the school's strange corridors. Bada, on the other hand, was a whirl of energy and warmth, her laughter resonating  like a lovely symphony through the corridors.

In the beginning, your encounters were limited to passing looks and temporary moments in public places. As a social butterfly, Bada couldn't resist approaching you, finding a similar spirit beneath your quiet demeanour.

Bada approached you one day as you sat alone in the school courtyard, engaged in a book, with a grin that could light up the darkest corners. "Hello, new kid!" "What are you reading?"

You looked up, surprised by the unexpected invasion into your isolated world. "Oh, it's just a book." Nothing out of the ordinary."

Bada's eyes twinkled with interest. "Mind if I join you?"

With that, the first chords of your friendship were struck. Shared interests and conversations grew naturally, creating a tune that rang true with the innocence of childhood friendship. The connection between you and Bada became stronger as the days changed into weeks, and weeks into months, becoming a constant in the ever-changing world of childhood.

The dynamics of your relationship with Bada began to shift during a school project, a simple yet significant moment. The assignment required pairing students to work on presentations, and fate had chosen you and Bada as partners. The theme was animals, and you chose the butterfly, a symbol that would come to represent your relationship.

"I'm a huge fan of butterflies!" "They're like nature's delicate dancers!" said Bada.

You smiled as you realised the poetic beauty in her words. "Yeah, they are pretty amazing."

The project's combined effort became a symbol for your increasing friendship. Late-night study sessions devolved into mutual laughing, and whispered confessions took the place of educational debates. It was around this period that you realised the extent of your feelings for Bada.

The realisation came like a sweet tune, lingering in the calm times spent together. You gained the confidence to talk about what had been silently growing within your heart one evening as the sun dipped below the horizon and bathed the sky in orange and pink hues.

"Bada, there's something I need to tell you," you said, just above a whisper.

She turned to face you, her eyes shining with genuine interest. "What is it, Y/N?"

"I... I think I really like you, Bada," you admitted, your words dripping with vulnerability.

There was silence for a time until Bada's face lit up with a sparkling smile. "You do? Because, Y/N, I like you as well!"

And in that moment, the transition from friends to something more unfolded seamlessly, the melody of your connection finding a new rhythm. High school presented its own set of difficulties, but the power of your friendship-turned-romance endured the storms.

Your love for one other grew stronger with time, becoming a source of comfort and support in the difficult path that is adolescence. The shared dreams, whispered confidences, and stolen glances became the fabric of your story.

The idea of university loomed on the horizon as the final year of high school neared. The uncertainty of diverging pathways put your love to the test. Graduation was bittersweet, with a vow to reunite resonating through sad goodbyes.

The following chapter took place at university, where the challenges of adulthood put your relationship to the test. Late-night phone calls took the place of shared nights, and text messages became the lifeline that kept your connection alive. During these years, the first evidence of darkness appeared within Bada's heart.

As sadness wrapped its grasp around Bada's spirit, the lively soul you fell in love with became a shadow of itself. Late-night phone calls that used to be filled with laughing now bore the weight of silent grief. You could only offer words of comfort and love across the digital gap, helpless and miles away.

As the years unfolded, the facade of Bada's bubbly exterior began to crack, revealing the depth of her internal struggles. The enthusiastic partner who once radiated brightness became disguised in darkness, and her laughter became a distant echo of a time when joy came easily.

The indicators of Bada's inner pain became too obvious to ignore during your college years. She withdrew from social activities, her once-enthusiastic participation in gatherings replaced by a haunting isolation.  Conversations that were once lively and vibrant became increasingly sombre as the light in her eyes faded.

Late-night conversations that were once brimming with shared ambitions and aspirations had turned into hushed confessions of misery. Bada confided in you, confessing the tyranny of depression that had enslaved her. She described the tremendous emptiness that seemed to swallow her whole, leaving her in a state of permanent numbness.

Bada's pain weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you felt helpless in the face of her wordless agony. Desperate to help, you encouraged her to seek assistance from professionals and to confide in someone who might guide her through the confusing web of her emotions. But, like an insidious shadow, sadness had a way of distorting reality and convincing its sufferer that reaching out was pointless.

Bada's cheerful energy had been replaced with a listless version of herself. Her favourite activities had become burdensome, and even the simplest tasks seemed overwhelming. Every day seemed like a battle against an unseen power aimed at putting out the brightness within her.

Your love for Bada was strong, but the fact of sadness is that it rarely has simple remedies. As you watched her slowly sink into the abyss, you felt powerless, wondering how to save someone who appeared determined to avoid you.

There were brief periods of hope, when Bada would emerge from the shadows and enjoy the warmth of the world. But these were temporary times, like rays of sunlight bursting through a stormy sky, only to be swallowed up by the gathering clouds again.

Not because of a lack of love, but because despair had built obstacles that even the most sincere relationship difficult to overcome. Bada became a prisoner of her own mind, and you were a steadfast witness to a never-ending conflict.

Despite the difficulties, your love and dedication endured. You remained at Bada's side, providing a soothing presence even when words failed. The struggles with depression cast a long shadow over your relationship, but the love you shared became a lifeline—a flickering flame that refused to be extinguished.

Bada's gift of the rose gold necklace to you in the middle of her personal agony was a touching gesture, a statement of love that endured even in the face of misery. Little did you know that the year after this meaningful present would be the last you'd spend with Bada, and that the necklace with its delicate butterfly pendant would become a lasting remembrance of a love tale filled with both joy and grief.

As you rummaged through the neglected boxes, each containing a piece of your past, the air in the garage was thick with the aroma of dust and memories. Old photographs, paintings from your childhood, and even a collection of hockey awards brought you back in time. You discovered a small, dazzling jewellery box among the remains of days gone by, and a warm smile graced your lips at the memory it held.

The box, covered with various shades of blue glitter, was a memorial to your childhood best friend and girlfriend, Bada's, dedication. She had been saving for it for two and a half years, a symbol of the lovely affection that had characterised your friendship since the beginning. A flood of childhood memories washed over you as you ran your fingertips over the gleaming surface.

You took a deep breath and opened the box, showing the rose gold necklace that had adorned your neck the year before she passed.

As the weight of grief rested on your chest, tears welled up in your eyes. "I really miss you, Bada. I hope you're doing better than you were. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you or save you," you broke down your pain echoing in the garage's silence.

Unbeknownst to you, Bada stood behind you, mournful eyes on you. She knelt down beside you, wrapped her arms around you, and caressed your hair, a silent presence in a world where her touch was ignored. "It's not your fault, Butterfly. I was the one who couldn't hang on in this life. You're the reason I stayed for so long. You should be happy."

Your body was overflowing with tears, a frantic attempt to relieve the sorrow that had been growing since her departure. "My sweet girl," Bada said quietly, her voice a soothing breeze in the garage's silence.

As you continued to mourn, Bada's ghostly hug provided some solace. She hoped she could brush your tears away and tell you that the love you shared had been the anchor that had held her grounded for so long.

But the gap between the living and the dead remained, leaving Bada as nothing more than an imaginary witness in your most private times of grief.

And so, the garage held the echoes of a love that transcended the boundaries of life and death—a love that, even in the face of tragedy, refused to fade away.

#swf2 x reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee fanfic #bebe #bada lee x oc #bada lee x y/n

[bleuhisteria]

Chapter 5 Love, was it all in Vain?

It was the weekend the day of Iruma's rank advancement test, and so (Y/N) could stay at home and read through the books she had, she sat near her desk with a cup of tea as she continued on from where she left of from the origins of cursed items.

'Where was I? Oh yes, there's a generational curse still active to this day...'

(Y/N) flipped to the first page, her eyes darting to the last words she had read.

The curse of obsession was found to be generational and could only be broken by dedicating one's life to something, this curse as of today is still in effect in the clan of Direxion, this clan has dedicated their lives to creating magic tools for the demon king, their works can mostly be found in the demon king's castle.

Cursed magic items have been created through strong emotions, despair, anger, vengeance, guilt, betrayal, and greed, however other emotions or actions one puts their mind to can also affect a magic item.

Although cursed items can be created with such strong emotions, it is not known how strong exactly an emotion has to be to purposefully create one, as most, if not all cursed items collected have been found to be created accidentally such as the curse of obsession, attempts to recreate curses have been unsuccessful thus far, transferring of curses can happen, but is also very rare.

There are three types of curses known as of this day, they are:

Direct curses: These are curses that are sent directly on a demon and can be cured through a purification process which can be deadly if the demon is weak, the second way is for the source to release their curse on the victim.

Cursed Items: Items made by strong emotions or desires.

Cursed Familiars: Familiars can't be cursed however, demons can be cursed with familiars. Familiar curses have been around for centuries, they are sent by deities who feel the need to chain down a demonic clan can cause detrimental harm to the netherworld.

(Y/N) finished the book, only learning at most about the history of cursed magic items, as she was about to close the book, a letter fell out of it.

'Hm?' She wondered as she opened it, it had a magic seal on it that she managed to take off using magic.

To my beloved blossom, whose fragrance possesses the power to transport me to a world where dreams and aspirations intertwine, you are the muse that ignites the fires of hope within me. Our first dance was a celestial waltz, sweeping me off my feet and whisking me away to a realm where time stood still, and our souls danced amidst the ethereal clouds.

Your laughter, like a delicate melody, graces my ears and resonates in the depths of my being, creating a symphony of pure delight. Oh, how I regret the times when I, a passing drought, failed to nourish you, causing your delicate petals to wither.

In this heartfelt letter, I offer you my sincerest apologies for my shortcomings, for I have come to realize that I have failed you, my one and only.

--Delkira

(Y/N) stared at the letter and sighed, putting it away in her desk along with the book before moving on to the next book to read.

A knock came at her door, "It's Iruma!" they called out from behind the door.

(Y/N) got up, placing the books down and opening her door.

"Oka-san!" Iruma called happily, "Do you want to play with us?" he asks, holding a controller.

'A game?' (Y/N) thought, "Sure, why not?" she smiled.

She joins the rest of the family in the living room, she sat down on the couch next to Iruma, on a 1v1v1v1 with Iruma, Sullivan, and Opera.

Iruma quickly explained the mechanics before the game began.

The first one to die was Sullivan, then Iruma, now it was just a 1v1 with Opera.

"Don't think that you'll beat me in this game Opera! You know I'm better than you!" (Y/N) exclaimed, all fired up as she hit combo after combo.

"Prove it." Opera simply replied as they calmly counterattacked.

"Ora ora ora ora ora ora ora ora ora!"

The weekend flew by pretty quickly...

__

(Y/N) walked through the halls of the school, after dismissing her class she had one free period and was now wondering what she should do.

A hum escaped her lips as she thought of what to do, 'I did say I'd visit Kiriwo-kun again, might as well.' she thought as she headed to the batra room.

She knocks before entering the room, "Pardon the intrusion~" she called as she stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"I-it's you again! Do you really do have a cursed item on you?" Kiriwo stood up from his chair and pointed, a little flustered and in shock.

(Y/N) nodded and brought out her staff, showing the demon her crystalized staff, Kiriwo held his hands up as if holding himself back from grabbing it instantly, his eyes shone with excitement as he gazed upon the cursed staff.

"M-may I?" He asked, looking at (Y/N) with desperate eyes.

She shrugged, "Knock yourself out." she states, allowing him to touch the staff. "Just don't break it, it has a blood bond and any damage inflicted can hurt me as well." she looks over as the boy observed the staff, touching every surface it had.

Kiriwo nods, "I will!" he says.

(Y/N) stays for a while with him, talking about the staff, minus the origins as she didn't know either, at most she told him what it can do.

"Ne, it kind of reminds me of the staff of legends." Kiriwo commented as he handed the staff back to (Y/N).

She tilts her head curiously, "Staff of legends?" she asks.

Kiriwo flinches in surprise, "You don't know?" he asked.

(Y/N) shook her head.

"The staff of legends is the staff that allows the holder's spells to increase in strength and has the ability to grant the use of bloodline magic if the user has seen it in use even just once, even if the user isn't part of a certain family." He began to explain.

Placing a hand on her chin, (Y/N) looked deeply invested as she allowed the student to continue. "Interesting, tell me more."

"The staff of legend isn't just a staff, the uniqueness of it stems from the fact that it only comes from a single power source, most staves usually have mana stones on them, if replaced by the power source of the staff of legend, the user's ability could rival even those of gods!" He exclaims before realizing what he had said.

"...Or so I've heard..." he says, looking away bashfully.

(Y/N) laughs, "You've heard some pretty interesting things." she says with an amused look before standing up from her seat, "I'm going to get going now, I'll stop by the library to see if they have a book for staves."

Just as (Y/N) opened the door, her hand was grabbed, "Wait!" Kiriwo called.

"Hm?" (Y/N) turned around.

"B-before you go, would you please tell me your name?" He asked sheepishly.

A smile formed on her face, "It's (Y/N) (L/N), call me (Y/N)-sensei." she says.

"E-eh?" Kiriwo froze, "Y-you're a teacher?!" he exclaims before coughing up blood due to shock.

He bowed profusely afterwards for how casually he treated a teacher as (Y/N) tried to wave it off as alright.

__

(Y/N) carrying her newly borrowed book on staves, hummed as she walked out to the field as there was still time before her next class, she notices Momonoki and a few students watching over a class and decides to walk over.

"Momonoki-san, what are you doing out here?" She calls as she approached.

Momonoki flinches, "(Y-Y/N)-san!" she exclaims making the students turn to her.

"So this is (Y/N)-sensei." The students whisper.

"What's with the cloak?"

"So mysterious~"

(Y/N) turns and waves to them, "Hello there, I'm a teacher for the third years, you won't see much of me until then." she says with a smile. "If you don't mind, what's going on in this class?" she asks.

"We're just watching the misfit class summon their familiars." A pink haired girl says as she turned back to the students on the field.

Momonoki seemed to have regained her composure as she nodded in response, "Yes, I was also curious, the new teacher, Robin-san had just joined us today." she states.

(Y/N) scratches the back of her head, "Is that so? Would it be rude if I walked over and introduced myself?" she asks awkwardly.

'I've been wanting to see Iruma's class ever since he asked me to be his mom, I was wondering how he was like at school--and I wanted to take lots of pictures too!' she thought, whipping out her camera from behind the cloak, eyes sparkling.

Momonoki shook her head, "Not at all, be sure to see if he's doing things correctly, we almost got to see two familiars fight earlier." she says.

"Hai! Asmodeus-san and Sabnock-san's familiars were so cool to see!"

"Devi-amazing!"

(Y/N) nods and walks over to the green haired teacher, the students seemed to be grooming their familiars at the moment, "Hi!" she greeted.

"Wah~ a custom uniform! Are you a teacher too?" The small green haired demon asks in awe.

She nods in the affirmative before continuing, "My name is (Y/N), it's nice to meet you." she says, extending her hand.

He gave a firm shake, "My name is Balse Robin, I'm the newbie, it's nice to meet you too (Y/N)-sensei!"

"Say, if you don't mind, would it be alright if I checked in with the students?" (Y/N) finally asked.

Robin nods, "Of course! Please tell me if you find anything." he says.

"I'll be sure to do so." She replied, walking off.

Stopping by each and every student to take a quick picture of them grooming their familiars before her last stop.

Iruma groomed his adorable fluffy familiar with a brush before a shadow cast over him, he looks up, his eyes widened, "O-Oka-san?!" he exclaimed, immediately his mouth was covered by (Y/N)'s hands.

"Shh! Are you trying to get me caught?" She asked in an annoyed but joking tone.

'Oka-san?' Kalego thought, 'Iruma's mother?! (Y/N)?!'

Iruma shook his head, (Y/N) kneels down to see his familiar and smiles, "What an adorable fellow~" she cooed, her hand reaching in instinctively to pet it.

The familiar, Kalego, flinches as (Y/N)'s hand was placed on his head, Iruma flinches in fear, his sweat dropping a thousand times per second.

"Ne, Iruma, say cheese!" She says, immediately flashing Iruma and his familiar, a picture saved.

(Y/N) giggles, seeing as how adorable the picture was, "As expected, cute on cute is the best." she says happily.

"U-um, Oka--no, (Y/N)-sensei, what are you doing here?" Iruma asks, deadpan now knowing that Kalego was probably not very happy as he remained silent in his arms.

A hum came from (Y/N)'s lips, "Well, I came to see how you were doing." she smiled.

(Y/N) then hands the camera over to Iruma and grabs the familiar in her hands, "Iruma, take a picture of me, quick!" she says, pressing her face into the familiar's fluffy body, not knowing that it was Kalego at all.

"O-Oka-s--(Y/N)-sensei!" Iruma exclaimed in fear.

"Just take it!" (Y/N) states impatiently.

Iruma reluctantly snaps a picture.

(Y/N) chuckles, pressing the familiar to her chest, "Another one!" she says, Iruma snaps another picture.

'(Y-Y/N)...' Kalego thought awkwardly as his face was now buried in the witch's bosom.

"Iruma, come here." She orders, Iruma walks over before she took the camera off his hands and brought him in, "Say devi~" she says, snapping a picture of all three of them.

(Y/N) handed the familiar back to Iruma and stood up, stretching her arms in relief, "Hyaah~ I got so many good takes, have fun in class Iru~" she says, waving before turning back to the familiar.

She pats Iruma's head and them the familiar's, "So cute." she says before giving the familiar a soft kiss on the forehead "Chuu~", "I'm off~" she winks before heading out of the field.

Iruma deadpanned as he held Kalego to face him, whispering an apology, "Sensei...I'm so sorry, Oka-san-- I mean, (Y/N)-sensei doesn't know that--"

"Iruma." Kalego spoke through bated breath.

"Y-yes?"

"That woman, is your mother?" He asks.

"Er...yes?" Iruma replied, a little puzzled as to why his teacher was curious about their relationship.

_

_

_

A little while later back at the teacher's lounge, Kalego thought angrily about the kiss he had received as he fought back a blush forming on his face, 'That's their relationship...' he sighed.

'Iruma's grandfather is the headmaster, his mother is (Y/N), his father is unknown, but (Y/N) already had a family...as I thought, something much deeper went on when she disappeared, I have to confront her about it.' He thought, remembering her smiling face as she called him cute.

The tip of his ears turning red as he buried his face in his paperwork, 'I have to, definitely because of how inconsistent her family background is, not because I'm curious about Iruma's father, definitely not.' he thought as he aggressively wrote his papers.

Dali turned to look as Kalego had at it at his papers, concern grew for the raven haired teacher, an ominous aura emitted from him as he destroyed the papers he was grading with harsh criticism. 

Chapter 5 End.

BONUS SCENE:

'(Y-Y/N)-san, k-kissed Kalego-san's f-forehead...' Momonoki fell to the ground dejectedly as she watched (Y/N) walk away, humming a happy tune, unknowing of what she had just done.

"Momonoki-sensei!" The female students surrounding her called out worriedly.

#suzuki iruma #welcome to demon school #kalego #m!ik kalego #kalego sensei #iruma #iruma kun #naberius kalego #kalego x reader #iruma kun characters

[imagines-babes]

Photograph (Wilbur Soot)

Hello again this one is over 2500 words so I hope you enjoy this one. The italics are memory between you both. I know this is kinda cliche but it was an idea in my head. The song is “Photography” by Cody Fry. But the symphony session version. Also this is they/them.

Wilbur List Masterlist

************

Wilbur pov

Moving day, into a house, close to the city just the outside of it. The boxes filled each room living room, kitchen, and bedroom. Everywhere making a clear pass for myself as I placed a box down. Seeing some were written on, one side of the box said photos. Getting closer to the box I used my keys to cutting the tape to open the box. To see photos and memories books. Honestly, half the photos here I didn't know existed. Pulling some photos out with the memory book to remember a memory.

it was before an MCC game. this one I swear I remember about it. I went to a near shop to get some caffeine to wake me. Waiting by the line as men and women dressed in suites or dress. As for me I only dressed in blue jeans ad a button-up shirt. Felt a little out of space but didn't bother too much. Going to my turn the lady/man stood in front of me with a hat. With a smile that could brighten up a room. They were speaking but I didn't focus on their words just looked at them a little longer. I hope that wasn't creepy, "Hello sir may I help you?" The way they spoke made me forget how to speak. Trying to make words "Oh yeah uh just one coffee that should be good." They nod as they type it in in the register telling me how much it was. I smiled staying on the side as I waited for my coffee. Then the door opened to see a blonde boy. Tommy. Why was he here? He found me standing as he walks up to me. "Hello Wilbur what are you doing here," He questioned, "What do you think Tommy I'm getting a coffee for Mcc" Before Tommy could reply they called my name. "Coffee for Wilbur." Walking up to smile at them, They smiled back looking over at Tommy. "Tommy what are you doing here I already gave you a discount today." Did they know each other? "Come on y/n just one more thing for my tournament today," With a sigh, they gave Tommy a card. "Don't make me regret it, Tommy." All he did was laugh. Looking over to me, "Oh Wilbur this is y/n the one that lives by me across my apartment and is my sitter and shit." Then it clicked for me. "Well, Wilbur please don't let him use all the money?" All I did was nod. Before I could say anything they called her back to work. "Sorry I have to go but Tommy good luck on your game. Then they left. Hitting Tommy on the shoulder once we left the shop. "What the hell is that for?" "Don't waste all their money."

It was a shop name on the page I turned. That's where I met them first it brought a smile to my face. Looking down to see photos of all of us near the pier for a vlog.

I can't believe this. Everyone has met them before aside from me at a coffee shop. Pacing around the room looking at my clock deciding to walk it was the time that I would see them once more with friends. Tommy was already in front of my building waiting as I was the last to join. Turning my head to them once more. All I did was smile as they looked in my direction. Tommy notices the smile. "Let's go to the pier" we started our walk going around to see the shops. We stopped every once in a while to look inside for y/n. They went to a shop for food since we were all gonna be hungry. Staying beside them I held a basket while they put some snacks. "So how's your work at the shop?" Y/n just look over at me as their eyes widen slightly. "Oh it's fine I mean it pays the bill honestly wished I could do something else but it's fine." All they did was smile through the words. "What's yours? your job I meant." I mean should I could just say I'm a streamer I don't think they would mind it, right? "Do you also do what Tommy does? Stream games and stuff?" All they did was nod. "But I also make music actually I'm in a band you probably heard of them cause of Tommy. We are called Lovejoy." I swore I say a sparkler in their eye. "Oh my god really Tommy would always put on songs for them. He would always put Perform on. Then we both would sing and dance. Shortly after getting a call from the manager." We both laugh at their words. Their laugh was honestly the favorite thing about them. Tommy watched from a window pointing at us. Getting his phone for a picture. Capturing the moment of us both.

The memory is one of my favorites to this day. Hearing them laugh. The next page was our first date.

"Come on Wilbur, stop pacing you are making me worry and I'm not even going on the date." I stop sitting on the couch. "well sorry I haven't asked anyone on a date for like some year so sorry if this is a big step for me." All Tommy did was roll his eyes. "The date will go fine. And if it doesn't you will move on slowly but surely." That when I stood up, "I won't move on Tommy, Y/n is one of the few people who understand me and I don't want to miss this up. I really like them, Tommy." Before Tommy could say another word a knock appeared at the door. I stood cleaning myself walking up to the door. As Tommy pat my shoulder," Don't worry, just relax you got this." Opening the door slowly, There they were, in one of their favorite clothes giving a smile. "You ready to go Wilbur?" They stood with a smile all I did was nod. We start to walk downstairs only to hear Tommy, "Don't do anything crazy you kids" Then the door close. We both laugh. For the date, I thought a picnic would be nice, near a park. So we drove hearing some songs as we talk. I could hear them talk for hours. How they describe every little thing. How they sometimes act it out. It was like a story and honestly, I never wanted it to end. Parking the car, bringing out the supplies. They looked around, seeing the grass as they held the blanket for the date. Walking to a spot near a tree with the leaves falling and petals from a flower. Our conversation would last for hours. Their laugh. Their smile. Honestly, I felt like I'm repeating the thing I like about them. They went against me from the side putting their head on my shoulder. Near sunset I wanted to capture this memory, slowly looking around to notice a little-noticed dandelion. Grabbing it as I pass it to them. "Legends say if you blow on it and make a wish. Your wish will come true." I looked down at the flower than at them. Closing their eye, then shortly opening them as they blow towards the sunset. We both looked at the petal as they fly away. They grab another handing it to me. "Here keep it as a memory." "

The dandelion was still attached between clear dividers. As the pictures and souvenirs appeared on each page I turned. The time at the fair. The time at Disney. Telling' Tommy, we were together. Making videos with them. We both agreed to tell the fans about us. The one that stuck out to me was When we said I love you.

"This day I was nervous cause after a few months, I am ready to say that I love them. My nerves were through the roof. I wanted to plan out the day but it needed to be spontaneous. It should happen at the moment. They were coming over to my house. I mean they have been here plenty of times but this was different. Hearing the knock opening it slightly to see. Not y/n. Tommy. "What are you doing at my door Tommy? Tomorrow is when you hang out with us remember." He just stood by the door, "Well uh y/n at the hospital, they weren't paying attention to the mirror and their dresser and it broke. Two or 3 glasses slash their right arm. They need stitches." My body stay froze as I just looked at Tommy. Was this a sign to not tell them yet? Or was it a sign to tell them immediately? Hearing a snap near my ear. Going with my coat and key. "Well come on Tommy we don't have all day." With that, we left. Rushing in to look for a nurse she smiled at us," How can I help you?" Giving a brief smile, "We are here to see y/n." "Do you have any relation to them?" Tommy went to answer, "Oh I'm their little brother and this is..." Tommy looked over at me, "Husband, I'm their husband." The words just felt right coming out of my mouth. Tommy looked over to see me just with a smile. "Well, their room is 124." Walking inside to see them with a cast over their arm as we waited for them to wake up. "So Husband huh?" Tommy broke the silence," Turning my head, "Oh shut up." Tommy wanted a snack so giving him some of mine to find something to eat. As I stayed waiting for them to wake up. Held onto their hand rubbing my thumb against theirs and waiting. So I did what I thought was best and talked. " You know I wanted to have this day planned. We hung out at my apartment making food or at least trying to. And I was gonna actually tell you something important tonight." I glanced over at them. "Then I thought that if I was gonna say the words that I should let it happen. So y/n?" Honestly, I was nervous, my hands were shaking a little. Staying cool under pressure, "I love you. I have been waiting to say that for a while but thought there was never a good time to." Feeling their hand move while hearing a mumble of words,"I love you too Wilbur' Their eyes open as I smile.

Honestly, we both always laugh at that memory. It was their hospital bracelet. More pages appeared. Them going to my concert being in the crowd as I look for them. It was someone the best. To the final page.

After 4 years I'm gonna do it. My hands were sweaty, looking around, finding my words. Hearing a knock on my door at my office. Trying to look through the mirror. Only seeing Tommy and Tubbo at the door. Opening it. They were both dressed nice both with suits as my eye widen. "What are you both doing here?" The both looked at each other, " well since you are doing a big move today. We decided to help you. Set up for tonight." He replied. Looking at my clock I nod.  "We'll come on we don't have that much time."  After two hours it was done. We headed to the park. It was where I first took them. Our first date with the dandelions. This place is special for us. Now it was just to go get y/n which tubbo was getting them. My words in my head were starting to get scramble. Tommy notice as he nudged my shoulder. "Relax Wilbur they would say yes just pretend it's a normal date. Me and Toby will be over there." All I did was nod hearing a parked car in the lot. My hands were sweat as Tommy started to walk awake. Tubbo walk with them to the spot as they laugh. My nerves were still high but as soon as I heard their laugh. They notice me giving me small smile as tubbo left them. "Hey how was the ride?"  Holding onto their hand as we made our way over. "It was nice. Missed talking to him so it was nice getting to talk to him again. Honestly I'm surprised he drove or that Tommy wasn't with him." They laugh once more. Sitting down near the tree with the box on the side of me. Looking around to see the boys staring at us, while y/n was looking the other way. They were trying to do sign. Telling me to hurry or rush as I shake my head. "Will?" Y/n asked turning their head. " is this where you first took me on our first date?"  No words were left as I just nod. They smiled as some memories flew. " Can I tell you something, Will?" Looking back to the front as they start to lay back into the blanket. "When you first took me here that dandelion with my wish?" They stopped while Turing their head. "Do you think wishes come true?"  Feeling the box with my left hand.  "I believe they do. In some way. The universe will do its way." Turning their head back to the sky seeing the clouds. While I mumble, "and my wish will come true tonight." The night was almost over as the two boys both left they were too eager for the right moment as they gave up leaving us alone. We were already starting to pack as they noticed a dandelion standing up from the floor. "To end the night, make one last wish." so they closed their eyes picking up the box going on one knee. Grabbing the box as they open their eyes. “Will-” Holding their hand. “Y/n from the first time I meet you at the coffee shop. At my first glance at you, I thought I was gonna faint. The way you talk and when Tommy came in. You acted like their sister telling him not to waste it all amd for me to keep an eye on him. That first time I meet you I wanted you to be with me. When we all went the peir heard your laugh and the way you smiled. Made my heart explode once more. Then you agreed to go on a date with me. Not gonna lie I was mess hours before while Tommy told me you were just any other person but he was wrong. You aren't like any other person. You were the missing piece to me. That sounds very cliche. It's true. Then when you got hurt with your stitches it made me realize time is short. And if I didn't ask you or even told you that I love you. I would be broken. But here we are the first spot I ever took you on our date. With the dandelion in your hand as I have this box in mine,” opening the box with a gentle smile, “Will you marry me?”

That day, they said yes ever since then I wouldn't trade that moment for anything. The wedding was a couple of days ago. As we settle for our new house. Close the book to hear steps behind me. There they were with a box in their hand looking at me. “What are you looking at?” Showing them the book as they nod. “Memories between us.” putting their box down and making their way over to me. “Hope they were all good memories” turning my head to the side. “Any memory with you is a good memory.” giving them a kiss. “I love you y/n” “and I love you Wilbur”

#x y/n #fanfic #twitchstreamer #mcyt x y/n #wilbur soot #wilbur x you #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #tommyinnit #wilbur mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #w

[smzeszikorova]

Hey hey! I have zero context for your ocs so howabouts you introduce me to them! Tell me some fun facts about them, if you have any favorite ocs, if any of them have notable traits or features!

Ooh! Ok! Well, now's as good a place as any for an introduction. Warning, this might also be kind of long. I could list fun facts about my characters all night, since I've got so many. But I'll limit it to the main cast of book one for now.

Catherine Leures (pronounced "Loy-ray" for a couple of reasons, but neither of them are good ones): Book one's MC. When she's not running the family farm, she's operating the Suvlin Chronicle's printing press or waiting tables at Carrigan's Tavern. Tragic mess of a human being. Basically if pent-up fury were a person. Likes to think she's super practical and down-to-earth about everything, but she's definitely a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on the "hopeless" part. She loves reading poetry and singing, and does neither because her busy schedule doesn't allow for it. Her life goal is to have all her financial worries suddenly vanish in a puff of smoke.

Lyn Leures: Her husband. He's also a tragic mess of a human being, but he's a lot more self-aware about it than Catherine is. His job is to handle all the housework (and most of the farmwork, since Catherine's usually at one of her other two jobs). He's pretty much given up on all his dreams, but if he could have any career, he'd want to be the Baliszkan (fancy-ass southern Pemokese city, but not quite as fancy as Drosil) Symphony Orchestra's first chair violinist.

Victoria Leures: The eldest of Catherine's younger sisters. Her life goal is to become an architect, but she pretends her life goal is to help Catherine and Lyn avoid bankruptcy.

Petra Leures: Middle girl. Also a hopeless romantic. Her life goal is to transform into a princess and never set foot into Pemoki's north end again. (Catherine would never admit it, but she thinks Petra's got the right idea.)

Eva Leures: Baby of the family. The only one who actually enjoys farmwork because playing with the big draft animals is the closest thing to a childhood she'll ever have a lot of fun! Life goal is to eventually take control of all the farm management stuff.

Ernest Wolbert: A baker. Used to be close with Catherine's mom. Aside from getting with Catherine's mom, which is unfortunately no longer a possibility, all his aspirations have been realized.

General Darion Adrona: Super important military guy. Aleonian-born citizen of Pemoki. (Aleon's a hell of a lot bigger and more powerful than Pemoki is, and also they're allies, so Aleonian-borns living in Pemoki don't have to deal with half the shit Kenacian-borns do.) Was General long before Levi was coronated. But until that happened, there wasn't much international conflict going on, so Adrona mostly worked in diplomacy. Now he's leading the Pemokese in the war against Kenacia. Also, he's Aorin and Rolyn's dad.

Aorin Khozlova: Adrona's confidante. For "no-military-rank" reasons, he really shouldn't be, but he is. Adrona has his reasons; in spite of all my previous claims to the contrary, Aorin's actually very intelligent. He's fluent in Pemokese, Lewyndan, Aleonian, Kena-Anglian, and Qhironese. He was top of his class in university, and he skipped a few grades to get there. He just also happens to be a reckless, self-sacrificial idiot who absolutely should not be allowed on the battlefield for any reason. (That's Adrona's thought process, anyway.)

Rolyn Czeres: Rolyn is Aorin's brother. He's technically older, but he was adopted second, and he gives off major younger sibling vibes. Adrona doesn't let Rolyn near the battle plans, but he trusts him more with field assignments, which Rolyn appreciates, since he never thought strategic stuff was much fun anyway. He is extremely snuggly, and somehow also the most prickly person you will ever meet.

Sverlyn Kjovra: The badass cinnamon roll. Son of a Pemokese legislator. We torment him unnecessarily. He was one of Aorin's best friends in school, and they basically consider one another family.

Sergei Kjovra: Sverlyn's sweet but uptight twin brother. When Adrona isn't around to serve as the family's brain cell, he leaves Sergei in charge.

General Kasia Arkhonieva: A powerful Pemokese general who works closely with Adrona.

General Yono Aamitok: The leader of the Qhironese rebellion. (For reasons I'll explain in the next section, the Qhironese really hate Levi.) She's also General Arkhonieva's wife.

King Levi Niacera: Levi's existence became common knowledge in Kenacia after the rest of the Kenacian royal family died for very mysterious reasons, leaving him—a then twelve-year-old kid—as the Kenacian throne's only available successor. At the time, people were pretty relieved. ("He can't be worse than his father, right?") Levi took the throne at eighteen, and then proceeded to try and conquer every country he could get his hands on. His first major military success was in Qhiron. Now he's got his sights set on Pemoki.

General Paul Firesky: Kenacia's youngest general / one of Levi's military advisors / the reason Levi's conquest of Qhiron was so successful / a very sad and tired boi.

General James Blightwood: Another one of Levi's generals / military advisors. He isn't too important until book 3, but you should know who he is in the meantime.

Alan Winson: He dropped out of medical school, but thanks to his connections with Levi, he's also Kenacia's most famous—and possibly the whole world's second most famous—trazian systems scientist. (That's just another word for my pseudoscientific magic system.) And it's thanks to his invaluable contributions to the field that he's one of the only people who can get away with acting like an asshole to Levi.

Adriel Castlyre: Rags to riches? More like sad janitor to sad interrogator. You could make a case for this guy being the first book's other main character. His older brother, Hugh Oliver, is the world's first most famous trazian systems scientist. But Adriel really doesn't want to be remembered as "that one awesome guy's unremarkable little brother". So instead he makes a name for himself as "Levi Niacera's boy-toy".

Captain Sera Selney: She's a notorious Miaccoran pirate hired to scout the seas for Kenacian spies by the Pemokese king, who I haven't listed here because he's that much of a non-character. She's not too fond of being a law-abiding citizen, but she still takes her job very seriously, since the king has promised to grant her citizenship and a fresh start (and also a fuck ton of money, but that's totally not why she accepted his offer) in exchange for her services.

#p&k #ocs #i spoil a few plot points here #but that was unavoidable #thanks for the ask!

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

So M2 has a birthday in a couple weeks. This is a PROBLEM.

See, for me birthdays are a sacred time in which an entire week is expected to be devoted to me to the point I sent out weekly countdowns so no one forgets.

So I cannot just let one pass, though he says he doesn't really do birthdays. (No traumas, just shitty ones.)

Now M2 has more money than I would know what to do with, so can't get him something he just wants for himself because he could just buy that. So creative it is.

Except we haven't been dating more than a couple weeks, his apartment is not at all furnished, and he wears generic dad clothes. So choosing his taste in creative gifts is like impossible.

Then I found THIS.

Couples Edition – The Adventure Challenge

He loves doing activities -- our first date was an escape room and casino blackjack. Another he suggested indoor skydiving (was not properly dressed that day.) So it seems kind of up his alley.

I'm not so sure it's up mine, and I have been told I "radiate displeasure" at times. (I offered, very thoughtfully, to go to the symphony with B for two separate things, one being a final fantasy theme, and was rebuffed. I tried to show an interest and he rebuffed me! Said that sounded awful because he'd feel the hatred of the music coming off me in waves, no matter how hard I tried.)

And then there's the elephant in the room... it's FIFTY dates. We've had 3. Now granted the first was 6 hours long. The second he brought me to his place as only the 3rd woman to ever come to his "sanctuary" (normally pretentious, but therapist so I get it) in 4 years and had me sleep over when it's been years since he slept next to someone. Has commented how it was great having me there and told me to bring overnight stuff with me from now on bc he was just assuming if I was coming near him, I'd be staying the night.

But still. FIFTY. And it's not like you can use it with the next chick because what woman would be cool with that.

So, gang, what do we think? Good gift, too much, not really me, super cool and memory making without being OTT?

Also, literally no idea what do do for his birthday.

#m2 #dating #relationship #birthday #birthday gift #event #HELP ME!!!

[minisugakoobies]

Prelude | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: angst, fluff, comfort, non-Idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of a break-up, mentions of loneliness

Word Count: 1.9k

Disclaimers: None other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: You're all alone in your new city, save for the handsome man you keep seeing around your neighborhood, and the mysterious pianist who lives upstairs.

A/N: I wrote this back in November and then just let it sit for a while, thinking I might add more. But now I think I like it as a short one-shot, so here it is, in time for Yoongi's b-day! The inspiration came from this tweet:

Tell me hoooooooooooow I wrote a letter to the pianist upstairs and said how much I love hearing them play and they came downstairs to thank me ONLY TO FIND OUT IT WAS THE CUTE DUDE I KEEP BUMPING INTO?!?!

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

It's your third night in your new apartment when you hear it.

Hushed at first, then gradually growing louder as the song crescendos–someone is playing the piano. The music swirls around you, and you sit up in your bed, the book you were reading resting on your lap as you crane your neck to better hear the enchanting melody drifting down through the ceiling above.

It happens again the next evening. And the one after that. Almost nightly, you find yourself the unwitting audience for a performance from the pianist who lives upstairs. You can't help but wonder if that was the reason the previous tenant was so eager to break their lease, allowing you to move in sooner than you'd originally planned. Most people might not enjoy a near daily private concert.

You aren't most people.

It's never the same song twice. One night, it's a buoyant contemporary piece that you identify as the theme song to a prestigious arthouse film. The next, it's a mournful classical solo that has you nearly weeping into your dinner. Your mystery performer's talent and range astound you, and you feel fortunate to hear every note.

Maybe it's a good omen. A sign that you've made the right decision coming here to the big city, striking a tiny chord of hope within you that there may be more amazing discoveries just waiting to be found.

A month after you've moved in, you are still finding your way around. You've taken to wandering the streets on early morning walks, trying to orient yourself better. Earbuds replace the hustle and bustle of the city with the soothing sounds of classical music, a new interest that you directly link to your unseen neighbor's recitals. Each day, you watch the sun rise over your new hometown to the stirring strings of a symphony, letting the orchestra carry you away.

As much as you like your new place, you're rather lonely. Your coworkers at your new job are nice, but most live outside the city and don't stick around after hours, commuting home to their families as soon as the work day ends. The only person you know here is your boyfriend, but he's so busy that you've only seen him a handful of times. The two of you had been doing the long-distance thing for over a year, and while your job is what lured you here, he is the reason you ultimately decided to accept the position.

A new movement begins, a minuet that has you stepping quickly in time with the music. Humming along under your breath, you round a corner, heading back to your apartment, and promptly collide with something. No, someone. A minty-haired man, not much taller than you, slender, with the loveliest dark eyes you've ever seen.

And the most intimidating scowl that makes you immediately apologize.

"I'm so sorry!" you gasp, as the man releases his tight grip on your arms. One glance at your fretful expression and his face relaxes. He almost looks sleepy now as he peers at you, and you try not to stare, awestruck by how gorgeous he is.

"S'alright," he mumbles, "no worries. Wasn't watching where I was going, sorry." The corner of his mouth twitches as he gives you the tiniest of smiles, but it's enough to ease your mind. "Have a good day, ok?" he calls over his shoulder as he passes by, and you smile too late at his retreating figure before shaking yourself and heading on your way.

You see him again a few weeks later, queuing in line at this little coffee shop you'd discovered a few blocks from your place. It's sandwiched between a dry cleaner and a bank, easily overlooked in a city where the big chains are located on every other corner. He's ahead of you, and when he turns to leave, he spots you and inclines his head, lips curling slightly in recognition. You nod back.

He's at the diner where you eat your lunches on the weekend, sitting in the window, watching the crowds roll by. He's at the basement bookstore where you load your basket with more books than a person could possibly need. You notice him all over your neighborhood, that pretty hair catching your eye like a beacon, reminding you of spring and new beginnings, and every time there is a nod or little smile offered, you accept each one eagerly.

He's technically a stranger, but the gesture still makes you feel seen. A little less alone.

"You're breaking up with me?"

You don't mean to yell the words, but you're caught by surprise. When you'd answered the phone, you’d expected to hear a lame explanation from your boyfriend as to why he was over an hour late to pick you up - traffic was awful (it was always awful in this city), or he had to stay late to close that big sale (he was always working late), or any one of the other million flimsy excuses he seemed to rotate through lately.

But you hadn't expected him to break your heart.

You beg him to reconsider, but he ignores your pleas, telling you that it's been over between you for a long time, that it was so evident to him long before you'd moved here. But it wasn't evident to you. Lying on your bed as you bawl into your phone, you don't notice when the music above you stops, the peppy, upbeat composition breaking off mid-note.

"I just don't understand. I love you! I thought you loved me! But you couldn't even break up with me in person? After all we've been through?" you howl, nearly beside yourself with despair. More words flow from your boyfriend's mouth, but you don't hear any of them as you try and fail to understand. It's several minutes before you realize that he said goodbye one last time.

The room fills with the sound of you sobbing your heart out.

And then the piano begins again. It's not the same bubbly tune from earlier. Softly, tender notes fall like gentle rain, cascading down upon you. Your tears slowly subside, and you inhale a shuddery breath as you focus on the melody. Thanks to your morning walks, you recognize this one. Arabesque No. 1, by Debussy. It's your favorite of his works, even more cherished than the much-loved Clair de Lune.

The pianist upstairs has no way of knowing that it's your favorite, but you can't help but feel like they do. Like they're playing it just for you. Tonight, you're not the audience by default, but by choice. Their choice.

Your breathing begins to even as you lie on top of your blankets, listening intently. You are wrung out, exhausted, but cannot help but lose yourself in rhapsody. The pianist plays so delicately, almost lovingly, and you imagine their fingers dancing lithely over the keys as your eyes flutter shut, the peaceful sonata lulling you to sleep.

Weeks pass. The performances go on. And slowly but surely, you begin to heal.

Hindsight is perfectly clear, of course. Looking back, you see that the distance between you and your ex was more than just physical. And it really was obvious. Just as obvious as the fact that you are now completely alone.

Yet that tiny chord of hope still rings within you, sustained by the music floating from above. Day by day, week by week, you keep moving forward, putting your ex behind you as you truly start anew.

You make friends with another recent hire at work who lives just a subway stop away. A neighbor down the hall introduces herself in the elevator, and by the time you've reached the lobby, you've been invited to her weekly book club. The man with the light green hair is still hanging around your periphery, a few casually exchanged hellos encouraging you enough to ponder asking him to coffee someday-not today, but someday.

The chord swells. It's no longer just a few notes. It becomes a measure, a verse. A song.

And you realize it all started with the first strike of the piano above.

Though you have no idea who lives upstairs, you decide that they should know how much you appreciate them. You need them to know. So, you dig out some old stationery buried deep in your desk, and you write them a letter.

Unsure of what to say at first, you start by thanking them for their captivating performances, stating how lucky you are to have moved in so close to such a talented musician. Before you know it, you've told them how their music has given you hope when you needed it the most. Anonymity emboldens you, allowing you to spill your heart without fear of being too earnest, too vulnerable.

Once it's finished and you've signed it "your neighbor," you trek upstairs and slip it under their door before you can lose your nerve.

The next morning, there is a rap at your door.

You peek through the peephole and draw back in disbelief. It's the handsome minty-haired man from all your favorite neighborhood haunts. Why is he here?

"Can I help you?" you call out.

"Uh, yeah," he replies, his low, rich voice surprising you. "You wrote this letter, right?" He holds up a piece of paper, which you immediately identify as your stationery.

You open the door so quickly, he jumps in alarm.

"You," he breathes, as recognition sweeps over him. "I didn't know you lived here."

"You live upstairs?" you ask timidly. His dark eyes examine you from beneath his shaggy hair. Long fingers clutch your letter, and you can't help but stare at them, thinking about how they must look as they caress the keys of his piano.

"Yeah. Hi. I'm Yoongi," he introduces himself.

You give your name, then pause. "So... how did you know I wrote that?"

"Process of elimination. No one has moved in on my floor in over a year. And little old Ms. Choi above me has told me multiple times that she turns her hearing aids off at night, so she can enjoy some peace and quiet," he informs you, flashing a smile that is all gums and rather endearing. “She says she means that to be encouraging, that I can play as loud as I want.”

Not knowing how to respond, you remain silent.

"I just wanted to thank you," he declares, glancing at the letter. "The things you said about how I play... how it made you feel...." He turns his gaze on you, regarding you carefully before he finishes his thought. "I, uh, don't get a lot of opportunities to perform for any audiences. So to know there's someone listening, and actually enjoying my playing, is amazing." He laughs, a shy chuckle that pleases your ear as much as any sonata he's ever played. "It made me feel seen. Or I guess heard. Damn, I don't know if I'm making any sense. Do you know what I mean?" His expression is so earnest that you feel your heart seize up.

You nod. You absolutely understand.

That gummy smile returns.

"Anyway, I wanted to let you know how much I appreciated it." He rubs the back of his neck, looking down. "Maybe some time, I could play for you? In person, I mean. Not through the walls."

"Okay," you answer, not hesitating, making his head snap up. He grins, and you can't help but do the same. "But do you want to start with coffee first? I know a great little place."

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

#ficscafe #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #possumswrite #min yoongi #fic: prelude

[vidalinav]

I’m kind of obsessed with thinking about Cassian putting Nesta first but not in big dramatic gestures but in a now that I have you, I just instantly gravitate to you and I want to be near you at all times kind of way. I remember every time that Cassian was attentive in ways that I wish we got to see play out with Nesta you know, like rubbing Mor’s feet or taking Feyre to the symphony, or decorating the House with her and them drinking, or just being the fun guy to be around, that everyone enjoys being around. I’m serious when I say I want to see casual Nessian. 

I want to see Cassian coming back to the group and going first to Nesta, maybe Nesta’s even surprised by it, but he goes to her first. If she’s reading, he hugs her from behind, kisses her cheek. If she’s up, he comes and hugs her until her feet don’t touch the ground. 

If Nesta’s all casual or preoccupied, he starts bothering her. Takes her book, and holds it above his head, and Nesta goes straight furious and you best believe she kicks him the balls again, and takes her book back. Or he just keeps poking her over and over, maybe repeats mate, mate? Mate! MATE! and when Nesta’s like what!? Cassian’s all pay attention to me. 

If she’s upset he knows and he will aggravate her out of distraction. If she’s seriously upset, then he’s like hugs and blanket burritos and soft care. Cassian knows the difference. He can just tell. 

And if Cassian goes to a place without Nesta for whatever reason, sometimes Nesta doesn’t want to go with his friends, he will always order something for Nesta and take it home. Usually dessert. Usually something chocolate. Everyone knows he does this. The restaurants knows he does this. They will conveniently ask about Nesta, too, and he gets all doe-y eyed. It’s like even if Nesta is not there, Nesta is there. 

Cassian knows everything about Nesta. Contrary to canon, he’s very observant. He knows what she hates, knows what she loves, knows her routines, her irritations, her wants, things she’s obsessed with. He plans accordingly. So Cassian is like can you make it without onions, she hates those. Does this come in blue? Nesta loves blue. He also knows her tells so when Nesta tries to hide that she’s cold, he’s like I got your sweater. If she’s getting angry for no reason, he’s like you’re hangry let’s go eat. If she’s stiff and is just groaning, he comes up rubbing her shoulders. He’s very attentive!!! This is what I’m getting at. 

Also, don’t think that Nesta isn’t like this. It’s just that this is only Cassian’s side of the headcanon. 

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian hc

[dumbass-mha-simp]

Elliott x GN!Reader

Your New Playlist

Kinda sad? Ig angst but not actually like, bad angst yk.

1k words

Stardew Valley

Warnings: crying, mentally beating yourself over a crush, self-sacrificing but not in a death kinda way, cussing (I think like one f word), Elliott is a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise,

I wanna do a part two, would anyone be interested? I know how much us Elliott simps want fanfiction. I'm probably gonna start on it anyway lol.

Yes I actually made this playlist smh ikik, you don't have to listen to it ofc but his aesthetic really fits my music taste, at least I feel so. I write my fanfiction as gender neutral as I can but if you ever spot any mistakes I'd love to fix it!!

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

Elliott's POV

My feet took me across the path leading to Leah's house. The gentle cotton clouds stretching their wisps across the blue sky, bright enough to blind me as though it were the sun that it surrounds. The gentle new Spring breeze froze my cheeks lightly as my eyes closed to avoid the same chill from the past winter.

Fresh Spring flowers and hidden vegetables encircled her yard as I made my way to knock against the dark wood door that always seemed thunderingly loud.

Leah peaked through the window by her door before I can see her face light up and reach for the door.

"Hey, c'mon in!" She opens the door wider to let me pass through. "How are you doing?"

"If I'm honest, a little troubled." I sigh looking forlornly to the floor.

"Come sit." Leah pulls me to her table and sits in the accompanying seat. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Leah, what does it feel like to you before you admit you fancy someone?" I look up into her listening eyes before her face changes into slight shock.

"Hmmm." She brings her hand up to her chin as she ponders. "Well, you miss being around them when they're gone. You constantly find ways to connect anything back to them, like `oh they'd love this`, or `I should check up on them.` You care about their opinion more than others and you want to learn about them, even if it's the uninteresting things."

I slide my arms down onto the table, placing my head on top of them. That sounded exactly like what's happening. I had read about it a million times, falling gently in love with a close friend. Perhaps that interest to become friends was always attraction.

"I can't get enough of Y/N." I muffled through my folded arms sighing once again as I turned my head to finally look back up at Leah, the light stinging my eyes.

"Well maybe I could help you with getting more of them?" Leah smirked as she grabbed her phone from her pocket.

I lifted my head slightly panicked. "What are you doing?" I rushed out.

"Relax, I'm not telling Y/N. But they shared something with me. They have a wide music taste yes?"

I had heard some of their music. While they made us lunch, while they partake in their hobbies, when they hum near silently late at night on the beach. I nodded back thinking of how they never seemed to be signing along to a song similar to the others. Unpredictable, and absolutely captivating.

"Well one of their tastes in music is very folk-y and they mentioned how those songs reminded them of you. So they made a playlist of songs that remind themselves of you." Leah said looking down and scrolling through her phone.

They made a playlist about me. They actively want to remember and listen to things that remind themselves of me. I feel I might faint. Was this something that was common among friends? Was this nothing more than an act of kindness? Or something they decided to do on a whim?

"Here give me your phone I'll send it to you." She holds her hand out expectantly.

I quickly go to pull out the hardly used device. I had never had much use for it but if it could bring me any step closer to Y/N I wouldn't hesitate to learn.

Leah downloaded a music app, laughing at how I had no applications. Before leaving it opened on the playlist. "The Lonely, Ocean-Accompanied, Writer." It read. I reread it a couple times to convince myself it was real. A lovely name, but is that how they see me?

"Chill out, Romeo." Leah giggled. "I can practically see you overthinking everything. Just relax and listen to the songs, maybe they'll tell you something."

I wrapped my arms around her neck, hugging her closely before leaving to listen to the playlist.

~~~

As I shut the door behind me I pressed my back against it. I've never felt so scattered before. I looked for the volume button, turning it up before hitting play.

The songs, quiet but emotional. As though you had just lie down on the grass to cry or relieve tension or reminisce. They felt like a memory I had trouble recalling.

The songs seemed to renew me, before I heard one I distinctly remembered hearing before. From high-school theater club, a time in my life that was fond to me. I do remember Y/N telling me they loved musicals, hearing them hum along to Heathers while I wrote.

A song unlike most others on this list.

"When He Sees Me" from Waitress.

~~~

Y/N's POV

"Oh, Yoba. What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door, And I can't close it?" I belted out the lyrics as loud as I wanted, the tears streaming down my face unwavering.

The good side to owning your own farm is you could scream along to your songs without people to complain. You had been replaying this part of the song for awhile now. He was all you could seem to think about.

Your head was swarmed with thoughts of Elliott. Some where he reciprocated your feelings and others where he shut you out. Every time you built a daydream where he loved you unconditionally you trampled it with the thoughts of his rejection.

You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head between them as you cried.

~~~

Elliott's POV

We had had conversations about musicals, perhaps that's why they chose this song? Maybe they thought since my school had a play of Waitress that it'd fit. But I know they liked other Waitress songs, why weren't those added? Only this one.

After that song came another, "I Hear A Symphony" one I've never heard. As the song started all I could see was Y/N. I could hear them singing along, their smile, their eyes averting to mine for the thousandth time.

Y/N was my symphony.

The powerful, breathtaking ocean couldn't compare to the awkward farmer that ran across town just to give me their best sweet pea flowers and be the first thing I saw as I left my quaint cabin.

They brought the motivation and inspiration for 8 hour writing sessions, they brought me food when they knew I'd forgotten to eat between writing the book and planning on what to write next.

They were something I could never dream of losing. I wished to live the rest of my life with their support.

If telling them my feelings means I'd lose them, then I couldn't dream of making such a selfish decision.

~~~

Y/N's POV

I trudged my way into town. After last night's crying session my eyes still felt a bit dry, if I'm honest I cried when I woke up as well. The loneliness felt suffocating in such a lonely little house. But I needed some new seeds. The stone path drawing all my attention as I walked.

As I walked into Pierre's it wasn't hard to tell that people could see something was off. After buying my seeds I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Elliott.

"Y/N are you feeling alright? You look as though you've been distressed lately." You motion to him to follow you and walks out of the store behind you.

You take a deep breath as you start to tear up a bit more. He reaches for your face as he lifts it up, looking at the pooling tears.

So many things, the things you could have said. But they didn't come up. Instead a vision of his face of discomfort at your confession. You couldn't bear it. You couldn't tell him.

"I've just been stressed. I'm sorry for worrying you, Elliott." You sigh, attempting to put up a fake smile as you wipe your eyes. He retracts his hand as he looks guilty. Fuck does he feel like it's his fault?

"Well I'm willing to listen to your troubles if you ever need." He also puts on a strained smile as you both part ways.

"This is for the best." They both whisper as they leave.

#elliot sdv #sdv #sdv elliott #sdv elliott x reader #sdv farmer #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #stardew #stardew elliott #stardew valley elliott #stardew farmer #stardew elliott x reader #stardew fanfic #stardew valley fanfic #stardewvalley #stardew valley fanfiction #sv fics #sv elliott #sv #elliott x reader #Spotify #Malia's fanfics

[powdermelonkeg]

Symphonies of Time

This is a continuation. You can find the first part, Secrets in the Breeze, here, and the second, Where the Wind Doesn’t Blow, here.

Small breakers indicate swapping worlds. Big breakers indicate timeskips.

I’ll make better breakers soon.

I also included a few music cues! I don’t know if it’s something I’m ever going to repeat; I kind of just felt like it, but it was fun. Click on the music note when you see it!

Sky gripped the Master Sword’s hilt tight, his knuckles white as he spoke to the younger hero. “Look around. What do you see?”

There was a pause. “...The sky is dark. Everything around me is bluish.”

“More specific. Items, patterns, things moving.”

Another pause. “There’s a circle beneath my feet. It’s like the one I stabbed with the Master Sword.”

Sky gave a sigh of relief. That was all the confirmation he needed. “Good. Stay in that circle for now; as long as you’re in there, the realm won’t wake up.”

“...Sky? I’m sorry.”

The hero’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Wind repeated, hugging his knees. He grit his teeth, fighting to keep from crying. “I took the Master Sword from your stuff, I played that song when I shouldn’t have, I broke the tablet—that wasn’t mine.” He felt the lump rise in his throat. “If I don’t make it out of here—”

“Woah, hey, calm down,” Sky said gently. “You’re not going to die, okay? I’m right here.”

“But...the Phantoms—”

“They won’t hurt you. They’re agents of the Goddess—they’re just trying to protect what she made,” Sky replied. “The worst they can do to you is send you back where you started.”

The spoke softly, doing everything he could to be comforting in the terrifying situation. It was a technique Wind himself had used with Joel and Zill back on Outset. And yet, even still, he found it reassuring to know there was someone more experienced guiding him through this. But, still...

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do.” Sky didn’t hesitate to answer, speaking firmly and sincerely. “I know how the Master Sword calls more than anyone; if she didn’t want you to take her, she wouldn’t have let you.” He gave a soft sigh. “We’re all just glad you’re not hurt, and we want you to come back to the Realm of Sound.”

“...Okay.” Furiously scrubbing at his eyes, Wind fought for his composure, taking a deep breath as he slowly stood up. Time to be a hero and face the new challenge. “How do I get back?”

♪

“Look around you. Do you see any guardians?”

Wind looked around the clearing, alert for silver glints of armor. “...Two.” He frowned. “No, three. There’s a light through the trees.”

“That’s a Watcher. If you need to go near them, you need to be very quiet and sneaky; they can only see what falls into the light underneath them, but if they catch you, they’ll wake the guardians up.”

Wind gulped. Worse than Forsaken Fortress... “Okay,” he replied.

“Now, there should be something colorful and glowing in the clearing. The Goddess never places one too far from the start.”

This one took Wind a moment to spot. Everything around him was gray, but...He spotted something among the dull colors, tucked behind a tree. “I see something pinkish!”

“Pinkish? ...Okay. When I count to three, I want you to run out of the circle as fast as you can and grab it. If it is what I think it is, it’ll put the Guardians right back to sleep.”

Wind frowned. “And if it’s not?”

“Then I want you to book it back to the circle. We can try a different direction.”

The colorful sparkle behind the tree called to him, almost as much as fear did from the direction of the Silent Guardians.

“Okay,” he said decisively, eyes narrowing as he braced himself for a sprint. “I’m ready.”

“Three...Two...”

“...One.”

The instant Wind left the circle, Wild saw his ghostly form materialize in a teal shimmer. He watched with wide eyes as the younger hero darted through the clearing, ducking behind a tree and snatching something up, holding it in the air with a pink flash.

“I got it!”

Sky side-eyed Wild, watching him track Wind’s movement with interest. “Did the sky turn back to blue?”

“Yeah, it—” he paused.

Sky’s ears perked. “Kid?”

“...There’s a flower. On my arm.”

Wind stared at the blossom as it unfurled, the petals spiraling out on the back of his hand as a vine spun itself around his arm. A pinkish-orange light illuminated one of the many buds along its stem, and one of the petals slowly started to turn brown.

“That’s your spirit vessel.”

“What’s that?” he asked, poking the glowing bud cautiously.

“It’s how the Goddess tracks your progress and time. One of the flower petals should be darkening.”

“It is. Should I be worried?”

“No, it’s supposed to do that,” Sky replied. “As long as that flower’s intact and you don’t walk into any Watchers’ lights, the Guardians will stay put. There should be buds along the stem of it.”

“There are. One of them’s lit.”

“Good. Count them for me.”

Wind took a moment, twisting his arm to count the little glassy bubbles. “...9, I think.”

Sky sighed in relief. “Oh, good. It’s a short one.”

“I have to find eight more of those? In the Lost Woods?”

Sky blinked. “...The what?”

“Like the others talked about—the forest tries to spin you around and put you back where you started. It did that with me when I was being chased.”

Sky frowned, then turned to the others. “...Do you guys know what he means by ‘Lost Woods?��”

Half the party present looked at him like he was crazy. Sky narrowed his eyes. “It’s important. I need an expert.”

“I’m an expert,” Time said, raising a hand. “I grew up right next to the Lost Woods. They’re a pain to navigate.” He glanced over at Wild. “...I think we need to strategize.”

Wild looked back, eyes wide. “...We?”

Wild held his torch carefully as Time scribbled down on a map, his eyes trained on Wind’s transparent figure. It was already night time again; Wind had failed the trial more times than he could count. If Wild had to guess, the “lower number” Sky had talked about when explaining the Spirit Vessel was only a small mercy from the Goddesses to account for the sheer confusion that was the Lost Woods.

Wind scaled a tree, then jumped down, rapidly fading pink light in his hand. He turned in the direction he thought his companions must be and gave a thumbs up, unintentionally showing them his shoulder instead. Wild held back a snicker—if the situation weren’t so nerve-wracking, it would almost be funny.

“The kid says he found another one,” Legend’s voice came through the Sheikah Slate, jolting Wild out of his thoughts as he fumbled the torch. “Can you confirm?”

Time caught the torch before it could fall. “Give us a second.” He raised his eyebrows at Wild expectantly.

The blue-clad hero caught his breath and pulled the slate off his belt, coming face to face with Legend’s eye. Wind’s Gossip Stone needs a volume slider... “I can confirm. It was in a tree.”

“Great. That should be all 9. How’s the map?”

“It’s good.” Time peered over Wild’s shoulder. “I’ve marked all the Guardians he’s come across and all the borders the woods has.”

“Then we’re ready for the final run?”

Wild glanced up, watching Wind count on his fingers and no doubt doing his own calculations. “We’re ready. Tell Sky.”

“Got it.”

Wind’s ears perked as he listened to Sky tell him the plan. He lit up, jumping for joy as he realized it was going to finally be over, then waved for Wild and Time to follow as he raced off in a random direction.

Wild sighed in relief. “Tell Sky to tell Wind to wait for us at the gate.”

“Will do. Signing off.” Click.

Time looked over the map critically as the others crowded around him, rubbing his chin.

9 tears, 14 guardians, 6 watchers. 9 minutes of time to spare between each tear, provided Wind wasn’t caught.

His eyes followed possible routes, running the times in his head. This was just like his adventure with Cojiro back in his own time; the amount of times he’d failed to deliver a bottle of eyedrops in time and had to go get another dose had made him an expert at routing.

“...Alright.” He finally said, after a long period of mental puzzle solving. He pulled a charcoal stick from his belt and started drawing the route. “The first tear is the easiest to get; from there, he’ll need to go northeast and grab the one in the lotus pond. There should be enough time to wait out Watchers.”

The others listened intently as Time explained the plan to its completion. “From the last tear here—” He tapped a circle on the map. “—he can just walk off to the right and be warped back to the clearing here. There’s no watchers on that edge of it, so it should be an easy run back to the circle.” He pointed at Wild. “You can see him, so you’re going to run the route with him. Whenever he grabs a tear, tell us through the Gossip Stone where he needs to go next, and how many Guardians are marked.”

Wild saluted. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed the stick at Sky. “Sky, keep the kid up to date as much as you can. He needs accurate information as fast as possible.”

Sky nodded, fierce with determination. “Understood.”

“Great. Let’s do it.”

Wind snatched up his seventh tear. “Got it!”

“Great! Just two to go. Turn left—the next one is the one inside the crack in the ground.”

“Alright. Going left.” He gave Wild an invisible thumbs up, then jogged off after the tear.

After this was all over, he was going to ask the older hero how that spirit vision of his worked.

“There’s a pair of Watchers up ahead, so be careful.”

♪

Wind’s ears twitched as he heard the telltale bell sounds of the Watchers, and his eyes narrowed. Stealthily, he snuck his way through the forest, pressing his back up against the tree trunks one by one, face scrunched up in concentration.

He was so close. There was no way he was going to fail, not this time. He wanted out of here.

A light passed over his location, and he froze, the watcher’s lamplight bleeding through the branches. Wind held his breath in anticipation. Don’t move. Don’t move. They can’t see you.

...A moment passed, and the Watcher departed, returning to its route. It was all Wind could do not to collapse with relief then and there, but he had a job to do. Slowly, he crept towards the fissure in the forest floor, the pink light of the tear seeping through the leaves. He knelt down and reached his arm in, snatching it and booking it back to his post, just in time to avoid the return of the two Watchers.

He peered around the corner, watching them move, his heart pounding in his chest. Their lights overlapped directly on the crack, and they both paused.

Wind swallowed. Did they notice the tear was gone?

After a moment of eerie silence, the watchers looked at each other, then turned around and departed in opposite directions, resuming their patrol. Guarding the tear was not their job, catching intruders was.

With a sigh of relief, Wind gave a thumbs up to Wild. “I got it,” he whispered, voice cracking in stress. “Which way now?”

“Go right. The last one’s under a rock, it has a Sky Guardian in the tree above it. As long as you get there in time, you’re home free.”

“Okay.” Carefully, he made his way away from the Watchers’ patrol routes, then broke into a run. Freedom was so close, he could taste it.

The rock came into view, pink light seeping out from under it, and the cloaked guardian hovering menacingly above it. Gritting his teeth with courage, Wind charged forward with a shout and shoved the rock, practically falling onto the tear.

The flower on his hand shone, the pink light leaving the little glass buds and flooding it with energy. Wind gasped happily, leaping to his feet. “I got it!!!” He exclaimed. “That’s all of them, I’m done!!!”

“Great! Come on back, let’s get you out of there!”

Wind beamed, heading for the woods’ edge to warp back home.

And then...it began to rain.

When the first drop hit Sky’s head, he froze, looking up at the cloudy heavens with a look of sheer terror on his face.

When the second hit, he panicked.

“Kid!” He exclaimed “Get shelter, right now!”

“What? Why?! I’m coming back!”

“It’s raining!”

“So?”

“Water and the Silent Realm don’t mix. If even a drop of that touches you—”

♪

“—the guardians are going to wake up.”

The words hadn’t even fully left the hero’s mouth when a shiny, metallic drop hit Wind’s arm.

As he watched, horrified, the glowing flower on his arm shriveled away into nothing, and orange flooded the Silent Realm.

“Kid? Kid, answer me, did any of it touch you?”

The Sky Guardian behind him drew its blades.

“YES!” Wind shouted, taking off into the forest as fast as he could. He just had to get lost, he just had to get lost, he couldn’t lose this now!!!

The mist faded in around him, and the clearing came into view with an eerie light. Wind raced past the two Earth Guardians, his lungs screaming at him for air as the swing of a massive club just barely missed his shoulder, and dove into the circle—

Wind awoke with a gasp, eyes wide, bolting to his feet and ready to take off like a wild rabbit.

“Hey, kid, it’s okay!” Warriors grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. “You’re alright! You’re safe.”

Wind stared at him, then sat down with a heavy thud. “I...” He looked at his arm.

His skin no longer shone silver, the flower gone. The chirping of crickets and gentle patter of rain filled the silence that had only been occupied by Watchers and his voice for the past day.

It was over.

He’d won.

Wind collapsed back onto the ground, staring up at the sky as the other heroes approached with a hot meal and blankets. “...It’s over.” He finally breathed, relieved. “It’s done. I made it.”

“You sure did.” Warriors offered a hand and a smile. “Proud of you, kiddo.”

Wind glanced at him, then at his hand, before taking a deep breath and grabbing it.

“It’s good to be back.”

Wild slurped up the hot soup happily, bundled up in a blue scarf and furry hood, and glad to finally have something in his stomach.

“I don’t get it” Sky frowned. “The flower should have turned into an item as soon as you went back to the Gate, not sent you back immediately. The Goddesses wouldn’t make a trial for nothing.”

“Wouldn’t they?” Time asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sky’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he said. “They wouldn’t.”

Hyrule put up his hand quickly. “Maybe you did something different?”

“There isn’t exactly much to do different.” Sky crossed his arms, thinking. “When I went into the Silent Realm, I played the harp to summon the gate, then knelt and stabbed the Master Sword into it. When I came back, I just drew it and went on my way.”

At the last sentence, everyone turned their eyes to the purple-hilted sword.

It still sat, resting in the gate.

Waiting.

Wind stared at it for a long moment, then looked at the others. “...I...should probably go get that.”

Four put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure? One of us can.”

“I’m sure.” Wind puffed up his chest. “Whatever it does, I can take it. Nothing’s worse than the Silent Realm.”

Time looked over at Wind with worry, the fears from that morning returning full force.

“Hey.”

He turned, coming face to face with the hero of Twilight. “He can take it,” Twi said. “He’s drawn that sword before.”

...He has, hasn’t he? Time sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Despite everything...he wished he knew what that sword could do consistently.

Why had it singled him out?

He shook his head, tossing the thought away. A question for later. He turned towards the camp. “Hey.”

Wind looked over, eyes wide.

Time offered a small smile. “Finish dinner, then let’s see if this trial of yours was worth the effort.”

♪

Wind stood in front of the Master Sword, the same as he had all those years ago, in the basement of the submerged Hyrule Castle. Squaring up, he grasped the hilt of the sacred blade firmly, bracing himself against the ground as he drew it from its pedestal.

The Silent Realm Gate withdrew into itself as the sword left it, the blade itself glowing with heavenly light. Wind pointed the blade skyward, determination in his eyes, then raised it above his head, its might not lost on the young hero.

Wind took a deep breath, then smiled, swinging the blade twice then performing a spin attack, then sheathing it with a flourish.

The Chain clapped in approval, and he bowed, then turned and offered the Master Sword back to Sky. “Here you go,” Wind said, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “I think I’ve had enough of that sword for a little bit.”

Sky chuckled, taking the blade back and slinging it onto his back where it belonged. “Next time the sword calls to you, tell me.” He ruffled Wind’s hair. “I’ll help you figure out what’s going on before you get stranded in another realm.”

A sharp crack startled the heroes out of their exchange, and everyone turned to look at what was left of the stone pedestal.

The rock split in two, its purpose served. It dissolved into dust like the tablet before it, revealing yet another stone artifact to follow. Immediately, Legend snatched it up for examination. “...Hm.” He rapped his knuckles against it. “This has some strong magic in it,” he said, “but I can’t tell exactly what. It feels almost like song magic, but...” He offered it to Wind. “Any ideas?”

Wind hesitated, worried for a moment, then took the tablet and flipped it over to study it. He shook his head. “No. I’ve never seen this before.”

Just then, Four’s ears perked. “Kid, does your baton normally do that?”

“Huh?” He looked down at his belt.

The Wind Waker sparkled, begging for attention. Wind frowned. “No...Hold this for me,” he said, handing the tablet off to Hyrule and pulling out the magic artifact.

No sooner had he done so than the new tablet lit up, markings like before appearing on its surface.

Wind looked up, then stared in shock. “Eight notes?”

“That’s new?” Hyrule asked.

He nodded quickly. “I’ve never conducted any higher than 6/4 time!” He looked up at Time. “...Can I...?”

Time hesitated. Following destiny’s call wasn’t the safest move, and they’d nearly had a close call with this whole Silent Realm business. And yet...he knew meddling with the Goddess’ plans was a surefire way to incur disaster. He’d learned that the hard way.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Go ahead. Just be careful.”

Wind lit up excitedly, then drew himself up to conduct, playing the notes as directed. Everyone watched with baited breath, waiting for whatever the Goddesses could possibly give them next.

...Nothing.

Wind frowned. “Come on, that’s not right. You’ve gotta do something for all that work.” He tried again, attempting to time it better. “Maybe it’s just a repeated 4/4...”

As Legend watched the conductor’s attempts, he squinted. He recognized it, he was sure of it, but...

He snapped his fingers, eyes wide, then quickly grabbed Sky’s bag and fished out the Skyloftian’s golden lyre.

“Wh- HEY!”

“I’m borrowing it.” He shoved the bag back into Sky’s arms, then stepped in front of Wind. “Kid. Conduct me.”

“What?”

“Conduct me.” He held the Goddess Harp to his shoulder, fingers on the strings. “I know that song, but I don’t know what it does. I want to find out.”

Wind’s eyes widened. With a nod, he held his baton up, then began to conduct. Legend watched his movements closely as he played, the tune matching his memory exactly.

It was...almost scary.

♪

It didn’t take more than a second for the melody to click into place; he’d only heard it once, but you don’t exactly forget a meeting with the Oracle of Ages easily. As he played, blue flecks of light shimmered at his fingers and the Wind Waker’s tip, the etherial music filling the air.

The rain froze, water droplets suspended midair all around the heroes, as time itself ground to a stop. A cerulean glow pulled itself through the newly made prisms, filling the air with rays made of sapphires. They wove themselves together in a net, then spun, before shattering to bits at the song’s conclusion.

The fragments rebuilt themselves into a blue archway appeared before them, a dark vortex of midnight blue spinning into nothingness.

The Chain looked at each other in shock.

They recognized this.

Even if it was different.

You learned Nayru's Requiem! The power of the Oracle of Ages fills the Wind Waker; you can now travel through time at will.

#missing links prologue #thats it its done!!! #finally!!! #three hours of nonstop typing but GOD was it satisfying #enjoy! #loz #zelda #fanfiction #secrets in the breeze #where the wind doesn't blow #also music is not required to read it's just what I listened to while typing so I think it enhances the experience #linked universe #skyward sword spoilers #if there are typos i apologize but i'm not fixing them #i have to read this thing in html when editing #edit: why the fuck is the music note so huge on mobile

[the7thcrow]

indulgence | part two

~

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 5.8 k

genre: forbidden love. angst, extreme fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (sex is discussed but not described), strong language, alcohol and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! thank you to anyone who read part one, and liked it enough to continue with part two hehe. the plot really picks up here, and i’m quite excited about it. once again, i love hearing feedback, so don’t be shy in leaving me an ask or message :)

previous chapter.

...

..

.

You were careful. In the beginning, at least. For the first few weeks of carrying your secret, you only met Felix after hours, and only at your home. You’d leave at different times, and you both never spoke a word of what you were doing to anyone.

It was a safe play. A smart one. But as time went on you became sloppy. It started on the day Felix’s roommates would be gone for the entire weekend.

You were both lying in your bed, the rainy Sunday morning having trickled by in a lazy, melancholic fashion. These were your favourite days, the ones in which he’d arrive just before dawn and leave near dusk. 

You’d gotten used to his presence around your apartment, his absence painfully noticeable during the days you found yourself cooped up there alone. You liked when he was there, even when you weren’t talking, lounging on the couch in silence with your feet intertwined as you caught up on your required reading. Or when sometimes he’d cook for you, baking you sweets as you were stressed out over a paper that’s due date was much closer than you’d realized. Him simply being around granted you comfort, a sense of companionship, something you hadn’t felt for a long time.

You couldn’t deny that Felix Lee had nestled himself into your life, and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t enjoying it. Being with him made you love the creature you were, seeing the way your feeding affected him, the way it set the two of you on fire. Forgetting for a moment how restrictive your life truly was, how exhausting and lonely it often happened to be. 

Looking back, perhaps that was the entire problem itself. That wasn’t something you should so easily forget, no matter how tempting it may be.

“Come on,” Felix whined, tracing shapes along the bare of your back with his finger. “They won’t be there all weekend, it won’t be any different then when we’re here.”

He was trying to convince you to come spend the following weekend at his apartment, as his roommates were leaving on a ski trip and wouldn’t be back until Monday morning.

“Well, if it won’t be any different then why should we bother risking it?” You returned. In truth, you really did want to go spend time at his place. It felt like the next step in your relationship, however strange and complicated it may be. You weren’t sure if “relationship” was even the right term for whatever you two were, but you didn’t want to overthink things too much. For now, all you wanted was to enjoy this while it lasted, as deep down you knew it couldn’t be forever. 

“Because,” he mumbled, rolling you over to face him. This wasn’t going to help your willpower, you’d come to find you just couldn’t say no to those dark, curious eyes. “I feel like I’ve really gotten to know you these last few weeks. I mean, I’ve seen your life. Your room, your book and record collections, what you keep stocked in your refrigerator. I guess I just want to share my space with you too.”

You groaned, shifting downwards to bury your face in his chest. “Well that’s not fair. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“Exactly, you can’t,” he laughed.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know. Sorry.”

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll head over Friday night then.”

“See, I knew you’d come around,” he smiled, his voice light with enthusiasm. However, you couldn’t ignore the weight of anxiousness bubbling in your chest. You looked up at Felix, and you knew that he could see it written on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, methodically running his fingers through your hair, something he’d learned would help calm you down whenever you were stressed. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

~~~~

Felix did, in fact, make it worth your time. When you arrived at his doorstep the following weekend, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. Carefully, you twisted the knob, peeking inside.

It was safe to say you were surprised.

The apartment was entirely candlelit, the smell of rose scented candles mixing with that of whatever Felix was presently cooking in the kitchen. The table was done up in a way that reminded you of a cheesy Italian restaurant, with a checkered red tablecloth, two glasses for wine, and a rose stationed in the middle.

Felix emerged from the kitchen, a wide, toothy grin on his face. He was wearing an apron, patterned with an alarming amount of cartoon kittens, over what appeared to be a rather expensive suit.

“I feel like I’m underdressed,” you stated, unable to mask the pure awe in your voice. Nobody, not even Chan, had done anything like this for you. Not to mention the fact that you and Felix weren’t even dating… 

Were you? This seemed like an awful lot of effort to put in for someone you were only hooking up with.

“Nah, you look great. Don’t worry about it,” Felix said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take your jacket Mademoiselle.”

You laughed, taking off your overcoat and handing it to him. “That’s French. I thought you were going for Italian,” you joked, attempting to hide the warmth flooding to your cheeks.

“Shhh,” he said, setting your jacket down on the couch before putting his hands on your shoulders. “Just let me have this one. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You felt oddly shy, surrounded by such a scene. 

“Well if you’ll take a seat, I can show you what I’ve been making in the kitchen,” he said, moving towards the table and pulling out the chair. You complied, sitting down and shifting your focus to the wonderful smell wafting in from the kitchen. 

Felix disappeared before appearing with two plates, setting one down in front of you. “Shrimp Scampi,” he clarified. You glanced up at him and you could tell he was slightly nervous. Knowing Felix, he was probably worried you wouldn’t like it.

How someone could possibly not appreciate all of this, was entirely beyond you.

You decided to reassure him. “It looks amazing, Felix. All of this,” you said, gesturing to the room around you. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you did this, it's so… unbelievably sweet.”

“Well,” he said shyly, removing the apron and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “I knew you were worried about coming over here. So, I guess I just wanted to make it the best I could. Less terrifying and more something you’d really enjoy. You know?”

If your cheeks weren’t red before, they certainly were now. It took everything in you not to lean over the table and kiss him right then and there.

He grabbed a bottle of wine from the liquor cabinet behind him, pouring the liquid into your glass. “White wine?” You questioned with a smirk. “I thought you would have gone with red.”

He chuckled, beginning to fill his own. “I thought about it, but it felt a little too cliche. Besides,” he said, corking the bottle and setting it back down on the table. “White goes better with seafood.”

You picked up your glass, taking a small sip. “Pinot grigio?”

He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “A bit of a wine connoisseur, are we?” 

You laughed. “Something like that.” 

Truth be told, you weren’t. Frankly, you’d always much preferred scotch. However, Chan was big on wine. From the two years you’d spent together, you’d managed to pick up a thing or two.

The rest of the dinner passed smoothly. The food was delicious, the wine smooth, the conversation breezy. You’d calmed down from the initial shock of it all, and had settled back into the comfortable atmosphere you and Felix had developed over the past few weeks.

After you’d both finished your meals, he rose to his feet, setting your plates down on the kitchen counter before disappearing around the corner, into the living room. You were wondering if you should follow him, when suddenly classical music started to fill your ears.

You rose to your feet, peering around the corner to see Felix stationed beside a record player. He smiled, before extending a hand out towards you. “Come on, dance with me.”

“You sure are cheesy today, huh?” You laughed, taking his hand anyway. You laid your head against his chest, the two of you swaying gently, a sorry attempt at a Waltz. 

The music from the record filled the room, the notes dancing along with the two of you, a symphony of affection. You quickly recognized the piece as The Four Seasons.

“Vivaldi is my favourite composer,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I know, you told me a while ago,” he spoke quietly.

“Ah,” you said, smiling to yourself over the fact he remembered. “I’m surprised you have a record of him, I know you aren’t the classical type.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he laughed. “It’s actually one of my roommates.” 

“I see. What are they like?” Even with all the time you’d spent together, you and Felix had never talked about the people in your personal lives. 

“Hmm,” Felix hummed. Although he didn’t say anything, you could tell he was happy that you asked. That you were slowly breaking the barrier you’d put around yourself. 

“Well, Han- that’s whose record this is- he’s... well he’s loud, but I think you’d really like him. He’s studying music theory, wants to be something of a composer himself. He’s a bit messy, but if you harp on him enough he’ll keep his shit clean.” 

“He sounds nice,” you offered kindly. “What about your other one?”

“Ah, yeah. Changbin. His name is Changbin,” Felix said, but you could tell there was something off about his tone.

“What about him?”

“He’s… he’s going through a lot right now. But normally he’s the coolest. He’s also in music theory, so he and Han help eachother out a lot. He’s the type to bring you food when you’ve been working on a paper all day, because he knows you’ve forgotten to eat. Always there for you, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” you said. Talking about Changbin seemed to make Felix nervous, based on the way he wouldn’t meet your eye and the apprehension in his voice. You could bet it had to do with whatever Changbin was going through at the moment, but despite your curiousness you decided to drop it. It wasn’t any of your business.

The two of you swayed in silence for a few moments. There was nothing left to say on the matter.

“You know,” you said suddenly. “You said you wanted to show me your space, but I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

Felix smirked. “Ah, I guess you haven’t. Why, you impatient for something?”

You laughed, looking up at him. “Get your head out of the gutter, Lix. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhm. Yeah, sure you don’t,” he returned, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway to your left. He stopped, turning to open a door that was currently covered in a rather elaborate arrangement of animal stickers. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh right, the stickers,” Felix said, smacking his forehead with his palm. “Han thought it would be funny, but now I can’t get them off.” 

You smiled. Felix was right, you and Han would probably get along. 

The inside of Felix's room was oddly exactly how you had imagined it. Books were stacked neatly on the desk in the corner, ranging from academic texts to various manga. Posters hung on the walls, representing different music artists, some you recognized and others you did not. He had a nintendo switch tossed on his night stand, and plants hanging in the window. The room, while packed, was clean and well in order. An organized sort of chaos.

You laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. You felt the mattress sink slightly as he laid beside you.

“Do you like it?” He whispered.

“I do. It’s very you.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, rolling onto his side to face you. His fingers wandered in the air for a moment, before finding themselves placed against your cheek. Gently he stroked his thumb back and forth along your jawbone. 

You smiled, leaning into his touch, placing your own hand in his hair. “I feel like dessert,” you stated.

Felix’s cheeks warmed. “I made brownies,” he mumbled, his gaze deepening. “But something tells me that’s not what you have in mind.”

~~~

It was not what you had in mind, and you’d gone far beyond merely explaining that to Felix. The two of you were tangled together beneath his sheets, his head resting on your chest. The room was dark, preventing you from seeing the details of his face, only the shadows and the curve of his jaw visible in the moonlight. 

“Felix?” You whispered, wondering if he was awake.

“Mmm?” He mumbled, clearly only half-conscious. 

“You know I can’t give you more than this, right? We’ll always have to sneak around, keep us a secret. It’ll never be easy.”

“I know.”

“And you’re really okay with that?”

He reached for your hand, allowing your fingers to intertwine. “If it means I have you, I’ll manage.” 

A moment of silence passed by, as you were unsure of what to say, but something inside of you stirred. Something deep and warm, coming back to life.

“Y/N?” He asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. 

“Yeah?”

“Do I have you?”

“Of course, Lix,” you smiled, finally allowing your eyes to close, putting your mind to rest. “I’m all yours.”

    ~~~~

The following morning you awoke to the sound of rain pattering against the window, Felix still sleeping soundly against your chest. Carefully, you moved his head to the pillow, sliding out from under him and emerging into the hallway.

The apartment felt eerily quiet. You never found yourself in an unfamiliar place in the mornings, and the urge to evacuate and run back to your apartment was more tempting than you would’ve liked to admit. You wouldn’t, of course. Felix had put in the effort to make you feel comfortable, to feel at home. You would honour that, no matter how slightly terrifying it might be.

You wandered into the kitchen, noticing a container full of brownies set on the counter. You smiled, those were supposed to be eaten yesterday, before, well… 

You opened the package taking a bite of the sweet, before spitting it out in shock.

The apartment door swung open wildly, a boy with brown hair and chubby cheeks storming inside, a thick cast around his wrist. He threw his backpack onto the couch, letting the ski’s he was carrying clatter against the wall.

“Felix, you will not believe how bad the hill was. There was hardly even any snow, and the amount of rocks? It was like they wanted me to break my arm! Believe me, you made the right call opting out, it was not worth the drive-”

The boy stopped, his eyes bulging as he finally realized you were in the room. His silence made you quickly realize that you were only sporting one of Felix’s shirts, and while it covered you fine, it told an obvious tale. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hi!” He said, his mind finally catching up on the situation. 

Alright, this was it. Clearly you and Felix weren’t a secret anymore, at least not with his roommates. Now you had to decide how you were going to play this out. Your mind was buzzing. You knew this was a bad idea. You knew this was dangerous. You fucked up. It was over for you. You were screwed. 

Attempting to settle your racing mind, you decided to make an effort at being friendly for now. 

“Hi,” you smiled, moving behind the kitchen table to cover your legs. “I’m assuming you’re Han?” 

“Yeah, how’d you know?” He laughed.

“Felix mentioned you were a tad… charismatic.” 

Han chuckled. “Did he now? I’ll have to pay him back for that. I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name-”

Felix burst out of the hallway, his hair a disheveled mess and shirt only half buttoned. “Han! You’re back early!” 

He looked at you, and while you wanted to be furious at him, planned to make him regret getting you to come here, the look of guilt in his eyes stopped you before you could even begin. It were as if the words “I’m Sorry” were branded to his forehead, his features solemn with remorse.

“We have to get out of here,” you thought. “We have to talk about this, figure out what the hell to do.”

“Wait, what did you do to your arm?” Felix asked, just noticing the thick cast.

“Ah,” Han said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm. “I wiped out. Like I said, the hill was bad. Not enough snow and too much ice. I slid into a rock and, well… Doctor said I have to keep this on for the next 5 weeks, which blows, obviously,” he motioned to the cast, shrugging his shoulder helplessly. 

Before you could get a word in, he continued. “Oh, have you guys eaten yet? Changbin’s just grabbing-”

Felix quickly cut him off. “We were actually just about to go get something to eat.”

Han raised an eyebrow, glancing from Felix, who looked like he just stumbled out of a 2 year coma, to yourself, who was certainly in no position to walk out the door.  “You were?”

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. “I’m just going to, uh, get changed, and then we’ll be out of your hair,” you said, rushing past them and into Felix’s bedroom.

You shut the door behind you, leaning up against the frame before taking a deep breath. Okay, you could do this. You’d make a quick exit, then you and Felix could sort out what to do next. Maybe he could tell them you were just a hookup. But would that look too suspicious? Did they notice he’d been sneaking out almost every night? If they did that would only cause more problems. 

God, this was a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have come, you shouldn’t have come, you shouldn't have come- 

“Y/N?” Felix called, knocking on the door. “Are you almost ready?”

“Y-yeah!” You called back, cringing at the waver in your voice. You had to get yourself together. You threw on your jeans from the following day, tucking in Felix’s button up and bounded towards the door.

“Alright, I’m ready,” you said, bouncing back into the living room. However, you were surprised to be greeted by someone new. The boy was standing beside Felix and Han, whispering in a rushed, as well as undeniably angry tone. 

More surprising yet, and perhaps unsettling as well, he was glaring at you. No, glaring wasn’t the right word. His eyes screamed bloody murder, his jaw locked, entire body was rigid with a stiffness only produced by vile distaste. It was that look of hatred, that familiar spiteful glaze, which immediately made you recognize him.

“I’ve seen you at the library before,” you stated, taking note of how his eyes widened slightly at the sound of your voice.

The boy cleared his throat. “I don’t think so,” he stated, which was an obvious lie. He’d visited the library several times during the dead of the night, always with that same angry, loathsome stare. You’d always found it unsettling, and always left soon after he arrived, even if you still had work to do.

“Yes, you-” you began, but Felix quickly cut you off. 

“Sorry, Changbin. We were just leaving, I’ll catch you guys later.” He said, taking your arm and quickly ushering you out the entry. You saw Han attempt to call out in protest, but Felix quickly shut the door behind him, blocking whatever it was he had to say.

You turned to Felix. “What the hell was that?”

“What, I figured you’d want to get out of there?” He shrugged, not meeting your eye as he walked ahead of you, making his way down the complex stairs. 

You scowled, chasing after him. “Not that, why was Changbin - or whatever his name is - staring at me like that?”

“That’s just the way Changbin has been lately,” Felix said, although you couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more to it. Pulling your arm away, you pushed passed him. If Felix was going to be so frustrating, there was no way you were going to be the one trailing him like a puppy.

“Well, I know for a fact he’s seen me at the library, so why would he lie about that?” You continued, opening the main doors and storming onto the street. 

Felix jogged after you. “I don’t know?” He shot back, his voice sharp. “Maybe he just forgot?”

You scoffed, turning a corner onto the main walking path, heading off campus and towards your own apartment. You needed to sort this out, and the last thing you needed was to cause a scene in the middle of a busy street.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, still keeping yourself a few steps ahead. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to my place.”

“It’s the middle of the day, I thought that was against your precious rules,” he sniped. You knew he was just angry, blowing off steam, but the jab hurt. He was fully aware that you hated the way things were, the way things had to be. It was a low blow, and it only made your annoyance spike. 

“Fine, Lix. You don’t have to come, go back home so you don’t have to be a burden to my ‘precious rules.’”

“Shit, no. Wait, Y/N!” He babbled, running to put himself in front of you. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn’t mean that. Please, let’s figure this out. I want to, seriously.”

You stared at him for a moment, before walking past him, a sigh trailing from your lips. “Fine, come on.”

He let out a relieved breath before catching up, placing himself at your side. 

“We need to determine what the hell we’re going to tell your roommates,” you start. “Because as of now, we’ve gotten ourselves into a load of shit-”

You didn’t see the man in front of you as you collided into his chest, falling to the ground, rubbing your nose from the immediate shock of pain. 

“Woah, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there,” the voice said, and your entire body froze. You knew that voice. You knew that voice well. It was a voice you hadn’t heard in months, the voice of the worst possible person you could stumble into at the moment.

“Hold on, Y/N?” Chan asked. You looked up to meet his gaze, petrified by the familiar look of pain in his eyes. The same hurt from the last time you saw him, or in better terms, left him.

“Hey, Chan,” you replied, your voice coming out more shaky than you wanted it to. Chan extended a hand, lifting you to your feet. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck. “It sure has.”

Then, to your complete and utter despair, his gaze shifted to Felix. It was alarming, how quickly his gaze hardened, the way any sense of past affection drifted from his eyes. “Who’s this?” He asked, his voice cold. 

“That’s Felix. He’s uh, from class, we got assigned for a partner project. We have to explain how without divine intervention, the events in The Iliad may have transpired differently,” you said. If you were going to lie, you had to at least try to make it sound believable. 

“Ah, I see,” Chan said, an edge to his voice. “Where are you guys heading?”

“Just a cafe,” you replied, keeping your voice level.

“Off campus?” He asked, his eyes narrowing, you felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Yeah,” Felix answered without missing a beat. “Figured it would be less busy, you know?”

“Hm,” Chan said, before giving the boy a smile. To Felix, it probably seemed nice, but you knew Chan. Which meant you also knew there wasn’t an ounce of genuine kindness in that expression. 

“Alright, well I’ll let you guys get to it then,” he shook Felix’s hand, his grip slightly too firm. “It was nice meeting you.”

He took a step to make his exit, and for a moment you thought you’d gotten away with it. You thought that somehow, you’d manage to evade this inevitable disaster. Foolish.

Chan stopped beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder. Turning to Felix, he smiled, his eyes glinting. “And hey, you might want to fix your collar.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on his face as he adjusted the collar of his button-up. That’s when you noticed it. The bite marks just peeked out, visibly fresh from the following night.

Chan leaned in, his breath warm against your neck, lips brushing your ear. Your body froze, heart stopping at his words.

“You’ve got his scent all over you.”

~~~~

You and Felix spent the next few hours deciding your best course of action. In a matter of a day, your entire arrangement had been flipped on its head.

The first issue revolved around Felix’s roommates, the biggest worry being what exactly he was going to tell them. After much thought, as well as a bit of arguing, you decided to have Felix say that the two of you were casually seeing each other. This way, they shouldn’t get suspicious that there was more going on, but they also wouldn’t expect to necessarily see you around their apartment either.

There was still risk in it - of course, there always was - as there was the remaining fear that one of them might mention the two of you to the wrong person, and you’d be doomed. As much as having this as a risk pained you, there wasn’t much you could do about it, at least for the moment. For now, you had to trust that if Felix told them to keep it a secret, they would.

This was difficult, as you truthfully didn’t have faith in either of them. Han seemed nice, of course. But it was clear he liked to talk, and it wouldn’t be shocking if something managed to slip from his lips. 

Changbin... Well, he seemed to hate you, for whatever reason that might be. You tried to talk to Felix about this, but he simply brushed it off, blaming it on whatever Changbin happened to be going through at the moment. Begrudgingly, you decided to drop it, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t store the worry in the back of your mind. Keep a watchful eye out.

The bigger problem was Chan. He knew. He knew everything. The feeding, the fucking. That Felix was something more than just an acquaintance. He could single-handedly unravel your relationship, all it would take was a quick chat with The Council, and you would be ruined. There would be nothing you could do to stop them. You didn’t know what The Council would do to you, but you knew at the very least they would force you to end your arrangement with Felix.

You wanted to believe that Chan wouldn’t do that. You really did, but you knew that might not be the case. If he saw telling The Council as a way of protecting you, to keep you away from humans that could be out to hurt you, or use you, there was no doubt in your mind that that’s exactly what he would do.

For now, all you could do was wait, and keep as low of a profile as you possibly could at the moment. It was for this purpose that you said the following words:

“I think we need to distance ourselves from each other, for at least a little while,” you said to Felix. He currently was sitting on your couch, elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands.

Slowly, he glanced up at you. He looked tired. “Do we have to?” He asked, his voice flooded with defeat. The last few hours hadn't been easy. There were sacrifices to make, ones that neither of you wanted to adhere to. But this was not as simple as what you did and didn’t want.

“Yeah,” you sighed, dropping down on the couch beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We have to. I think we could have dealt with your roommates, but Chan is a far bigger issue.”

Felix frowned, and you knew exactly how he felt.

 This sucked. 

Over the past month, you’d really come to like Felix. You genuinely enjoyed his company, his cooking, his sense of humour. The way he brightened up a room. Most of all, he made you feel less alone. Together you were a part of something. A relationship of sorts. You mattered. And while you would do what you could to make sure this farewell wasn’t forever, in the end it was still a goodbye.

And goodbye’s were always hard, no matter what lay behind them.

“Alright,” he murmured, taking your hand in his, gently brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “When should I expect to hear from you again?”

“I’ll give you a call by the end of the week. I might try talking to Chan, just to see where he’s at with all this. Try to make him understand before he decides to throw me under the bus.”

Felix hums in response, before twisting his neck so that his chin rests on top of your head. “I’m going to miss you,” he states simply. 

You smile sadly, planting a soft kiss at the nape of his neck. “I’ll miss you too,” you say, “but this will only be temporary. I’ll make sure of it.”

~~~~

You didn’t get the chance to talk to Chan, as not even a full day after Felix left your apartment, a letter slid under your door. Carefully, you arose from your spot on your couch, setting your laptop down on the coffee table. You approached the envelope slowly, as if you were to move too fast, it might combust.

You picked up the letter, turning it over to reveal the seal. Your heart sunk in your chest.

There it was. The red wax seal. The letter was from The Society. 

Fuck.

You frantically ripped off the seal, releasing the note inside with shaky hands.

Dear Ms. L/N,

We have recently been informed that you have been participating in actions that violate the terms of our Society agreement. This information has been provided to us by a source of whom wishes to remain anonymous for the time being.

However, these claims remain a serious issue. We would like to give you the chance to explain yourself, as well as clear up what may be a possible misunderstanding or simply a false accusation. If these actions happen to be true, then we will deal with matters accordingly.

You are called to attend this meeting at 1:00pm tomorrow, at the councilroom of our head district.

We appreciate your compliance. 

Our regards,

The Council.

~~~~

It’s almost funny, looking back on how hopeful you’d been. That despite everything working against you, you’d somehow thought you could best them. Somehow thought that you were more powerful than the unbeatable. More powerful than The Council.

That’s where you found yourself now, seated before the three all-powerful vampires, surrounded by endless more. You thought you’d be more terrified, more horrified of what they might choose to do to you. 

But you aren’t. You’re tired of this. Tired of it all. So let them do whatever they wanted, you would take it. You didn’t regret any of what you did.

Not a damn thing. 

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilmen repeats, voice dead of emotion. “Do you know why you’re here today?”

Of course you do. He knows damn well that you know exactly why you’re here, you can see it in the smirk playing at the corner of his lips.The question is mockery. 

So you say nothing. 

“Cooperation will make this much easier, Ms. L/N,” another member of The Council speaks from beside him. She looks far younger than he is, although they are probably around the same age. Which is to say, hundreds of years old.

As your silence continues, the head councilman sighs, rubbing the space between his eyes in frustration. “Fine. Let me explain, shall I? We have reason to suspect you’ve been… coercing with a human boy. Felix Lee.”

Your heart jumps slightly. They know his name? You weren’t expecting that, but then again this was The Council. Digging up identities was the least they were capable of.

“Is this true, Ms. L/N?”

You stare at the councilman. There’s no point in lying. He knows. This meeting was not to defend your innocence, but to determine your punishment. You can see it in his eyes. Those hollow, sunken eyes, that seem farther from humanity than you could’ve dreamed possible.

“Yes,” you state. Your eyes drift to the corner of the room, landing on Chan, who’s gaze remains firm. You want to slap him. Or yell at him. Maybe both. 

“Hm, well at least you’re honest,” the councilman murmurs, a light buzz of laughter vibrating throughout the room. This is funny to them, a joke. Irritation itches under your skin, you don’t quite see the humour here.

“Well,” the councilmen starts, a glint in his eye. “In order to reward your honesty, I suppose we won’t punish you.”

You blink. “What?” You say, your voice coming out a croak. You glance at Chan again, who looks equally confused. His eyes are wide, chest heaving as his breathing rate increases. No, he’s not confused, he’s alarmed.

Something is wrong. You glance back at the councilman, and there it is again, that glint of something awful in his eyes. Something evil.

“You heard me correctly, Ms. L/N. We will not punish you,” the last word drips from his tongue, and you come to understand the weight of his words.

“Fuck. No. No, no, no,” you can hardly hear yourself think over the ringing in your ears, your thoughts a jumbled mess of panic and pure terror.

The councilmen clears his throat, a grin spreading across his lips, fangs almost shining in the dim light of the councilroom. 

“No, Felix Lee will be the one to pay this price. Kill him, and the damage you’ve caused will be forgiven.”

~~

next chapter.

#skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #felix x reader #skz felix #stray kids felix #stray kids felix x reader #skz felix x reader #vampire skz #vampire stray kids #vampire felix #skz x vampire reader #stray kids x vampire reader #stray kids #skz #felix fan fic #felix fan fiction

[cxptain-carol]

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢, & 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 | 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 (+ 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!)

✰  summary: the main three bnha boys react to you knocking on their door in the middle of the night :)

✰  warnings: cursing, and i use ellipses too much but other than that this is pure fluff, my dudes

✰  a/n: this is my first time writing something like this, but i thought it would be really cute, so here ya go! i think it turned out pretty well so hope you enjoy~ 

A symphony of crickets and wind whistling played outside as you stared up at the ceiling of your dorm room, wide awake. The crack between your curtains exposed a sliver of the moon and it shone distractingly bright on the floor that was littered with books that you had dropped almost as soon as you stepped into your room.

The two of you had stayed up pretty late in his room, going over material and quizzing each other for the next day’s test. It was the first time you two had done something like that; something so simple yet so sweet. The both of you definitely deserved a break together after everything your class had been through.

It had been a rather cold night in the dorms, so you saw the opportunity and ran with it. After visibly shivering didn’t work, you resorted to making cute faces as you asked to wear his sweatshirt.

That’s how you ended up here, happily inhaling the comforting scent of him as you lay in your bed. But despite that, something didn’t feel right. And you wouldn’t fall asleep until you figured it out. Your mind just kept drifting back to him… 

Of course, you were probably just missing your precious boyfriend.

Without a moment’s contemplation, you whisked your sheets to the side and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, soft feet gently meeting with the floor. You looked out of the gap between your curtains, watching the trees’ leaves rustle for a moment before you made your way to the door and slid into a pair of beat-up sneakers, not even bothering to put them on fully before you turned the knob and stepped outside.

It was scarily quiet in the hallway as you listened to the sound of your footsteps padding against the ground. Not to mention, unbearably cold. You weren’t very far from his room and in just a matter of minutes you would hopefully be much warmer.

You excitedly reached your destination but before knocking, you paused.

Was he even awake? Maybe it was a little too bold to try and sneak into his room on a school night. Especially after you kept him up to study. But you really, really wanted to see him again.

Before you could think it over again, you raised your fist and tapped your knuckles against his door.

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮���𝐢

✰  ✰  ✰  ✰  ✰  ✰

You only knocked twice and tried to keep it as quiet as possible but the sound easily cut through the silence that surrounded you. There was a moment of rustling from inside Bakugou’s room before his voice disrupted whatever quietness was left.

“What the fu-”

“Sorry, Katsuki! It’s me, it’s me—can you let me in?” You hurriedly whisper-yelled all of this.

“Dumbass! It’s one in the fucking morning; go to sleep!” The exclamation seemed angry at surface-level but you could hear his considerate side showing a bit.

“I can’t sleep! Can I, um… could I try sleeping with you?”

No response.

You opened your mouth to try and find the words to convince him, but before they could leave your lips, the door was wrenched open and you were met with Bakugou looking down at you, dressed head-to-toe in all black.

“I’m sorry to bug you, but I just can’t sleep,” you said, tugging on the bottom of your (actually, his) sweatshirt and feeling oddly shy. Somehow, you managed to meet his crimson red eyes, which quite literally softened at the sight of you.

“Ergh, fine. Don’t wake me up again though, dumbass.”

You grinned as you slid off your shoes and followed him over to his bed, taking your spot under the covers after him. Even though your rooms were on the same floor, Bakugou’s felt warmer. 

You contently snuggled up near the edge of his mattress, still quite satisfied with just breathing in his scent that lingered in the sheets even though you really wanted the real thing. But that was probably asking too much. Maybe if you asked nice enough… 

“Can we cud-”

“Fine.” He didn’t bother waiting for you to finish your request as he had already begun reaching for you, gently pulling you in so that your back was pressed against him.

You sighed, closing your eyes and drowning in the warmth of his body loosely curled around yours. Bakugou draped an arm over your side and you gladly reached for his hand, lightly playing with his fingers before he swatted yours away. That last attempt to maintain his dignity (despite the fact he was still cuddling you) brought a smile onto your face.

It was a shame that you were too tired to appreciate the moment fully, but as you started drifting off to the feeling of Bakugou’s rhythmic breathing against your neck, you made a mental note to start sneaking out of your room a lot more.

𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨

✰  ✰  ✰  ✰  ✰  ✰

(someone tell me if he even has a bed in his dorm room but whatever bear with me okay)

“Shoto? Hello?”

You knocked a few more times, but ultimately could not hear anything.

“Are you ignoring me? Are you asleep? Shoto!” It was getting harder to keep your voice at a whisper level.

After a long pause, he responded, “Y/N?”

“Yes, it’s me, Shoto. Can I come in?”

He let out a soft hum and you listened closely to hear the sound of his steps approaching you from behind the door. He opened it swiftly, looking down at you with a semi-confused expression.

“I can’t sleep,” you said. He nodded. 

You two just stood there for a few moments before you sighed and stood up straighter, pulling down on the sleeves of his sweatshirt that you wore, which finally drew his attention to it. Only after pausing on the sight of you in his clothes did he look into your eyes again, cheeks slightly pink.

“Can I sleep in here?” Shoto looked so disoriented by the fact that he was woken up at such a time that he blinked a few times before visibly understanding your question.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, stepping back to let you in. You took your shoes off immediately but before you could even give him a hug by the door or perhaps a kiss, he had already returned to his bed and was lying face-down in the center of it.

Damn, he must be really tired.

You rushed over, quickly hopping in beside him and pulling the covers up to your neck. You nudged Shoto gently and he rolled over so the two of you were facing each other. 

While the situation was nice, and you were already feeling a lot more at ease, you knew you wanted to be even closer.

“Shoto… have you ever cuddled someone?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Huh?”

“Have you ever cuddled someone?” This time you asked a bit louder.

“Oh… no, I don’t think so.”

You pouted a little bit; that was pretty sad.

“Well, do you want to?”

“Don’t really know how,” he admitted, his voice trailing off slightly—he probably wanted you to shut up. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You snuggled closer to Todoroki, wriggling into his arms as he lay on his side. Your head was placed right under his chin and you happily squished your cheek against the bit of skin exposed by his shirt there. You stopped moving when you felt him physically respond: by wrapping his arms tighter around you and moving one of his hands up to cup your face.

You looked into his eyes, fighting the urge to let yours fall shut, but almost laughed as you noticed he had the same problem.

“I was kinda hoping for a conversation, but I’d say we’re both too tired,” you muttered, kissing Shoto’s neck gently. He tensed up slightly but relaxed soon after, bringing his head lower to kiss you on the cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N, we can talk tomorrow. Go to sleep now, okay?”

Without needing to hear another word, you smiled and let yourself drift off in his arms, briefly amused by (but completely adoring) the fact that they were jarringly different temperatures.

𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮

✰  ✰  ✰  ✰  ✰  ✰

You lightly knocked four times, listening hard for a sound from inside. You could hear his bed creaking a bit and what sounded like footsteps.

“Izuku? You still awake? I can’t-”

The door swung open slowly and a head of messy green hair peeked out from behind it. You watched as a look of relief washed over Midoriya’s face at your arrival.

“Can’t sleep? Me too,” he said, rubbing his eyes. His voice was more gravelly than usual but it was utterly adorable.

“Did you want to- ?”

You nodded, already squeezing through the door, kicking off your shoes, and making your way over to his bed, desensitized to the shit ton of All Might faces watching your every move. After reaching your destination, you looked back at Midoriya, then down at his bed, then back again.

“What side d’ya want?” 

He shrugged, and you happily took that as your cue to sink under the covers, half-curled up and leaving space for Izuku. Your eyelids fell shut and you grinned at the warm presence of him that followed after you.

“Um, Y/N, can you… I-I want to…” You pieced together his half-muttered sentence fragments and moved closer to him, which he thankfully accepted by lightly grasping you with his scarred hands.

“I thought you couldn’t sleep, now you’re barely awake,” you whispered, half to yourself as Izuku had started drifting off, still holding you by the waist.

You cautiously moved up the bed before taking him into your arms and resting his head against your chest so you could easily rake your fingers through his fluffy green curls. He breathed softly against your neck and pulled you closer, making your heart race under the worn material of his sweatshirt.

“Thanks… for comin’ over. I… I was thinking about it,” Izuku murmured in his sleepy voice, the movement of his lips tickling you.

“I thought you’d be shyer doing something like this, but I’m not complaining, Zuku.” Your voice was starting to sound more tired as well, and you finally closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of your boyfriend breathing and curling his hair between your fingers.

“I love you.”

You barely heard it but that didn’t stop your cheeks from heating up at Midoriya’s adorable, half-asleep confession. Your fingers stopped their combing and you simply cradled his head in your hands before placing tender kisses on his freckled cheeks, the tip of his nose, his closed eyelids, and his forehead (where you lingered a bit longer). He hardly shifted, but you were sure he felt them. You resumed stroking his hair but couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in to kiss his forehead again.

“Love you too, baby.”

#bnha imagine #bnha #bnha scenarios #deku x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #deku imagine #bakugou imagine #todoroki imagine #my hero academia #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #todoroki fluff #deku fluff #mha imagines #todobakudeku #bakugou

[ulalumewitch]

A Song of Shadows and Light

Short Story inspired by “Day 6: Book Predictions” by @gwynrielweek - my prediction is that Gwynriel is end game and they are mates. This takes place an undetermined amount of time into the future after ACOSF.

Author Note/Warning: Brief mentions of past abuse. If you find these ideas triggering, please skip. I hope I addressed them with the care and sensitivity they deserve.

word count: 3,279

theme: a bit of angst, feels

please note: light adult language used.

*******

Azriel’s shadow’s did not speak to him. It remained his biggest secret. They did not whisper in his ear. They did not shout, nor did they cry, nor did moan.

His shadows sang.

He always thought people would assume the truth given the name, but they never did. Others sometimes asked, ‘What do they say? What do they sound like? Do they speak to you often? Do they speak in riddles?’ But never did they ask, ‘Do they sing?’

The first time Azriel heard their song had been while staring at young hands wrapped in bandages as he sat in the cold, damp hell of darkness. The inky black he’d learned to survive in had been no life at all but the sort of torture no creature should endure. Especially not a child.

Azriel had always been intelligent. His mind worked in patterns and puzzles. When he’d been allowed to begin an education beyond the fundamentals of reading and writing - when Rhys’ utter saint of a mother took him under a literal wing - he seemed to understand everything taught to him the moment the instruction passed her, or any teacher’s, lips. Initially, Azriel thought it a gift.

Until he realized the curse of it. He never forgot anything he read or heard, and he never forgot a face. His memory remained woefully accurate. While it made him an excellent spy, Azriel used to pray to the Mother to take his memory away, to take his ability to remember the finest minute details away. Or at the very least the bad memories away…

There were seven cracks in the stone on the floor where he used to sleep, where the damp seemed a little less chilling. Twenty stones around his lightless cell. He learned them all by feeling, touching, counting. Games to keep his mind from wondering if perhaps he’d died. If, perhaps, the Mother forgot about him …

Azriel turned his face up at the sky and let the rain fall softly against his face. His wings twitched slightly at the first contact. Warm, summer rain. Refreshing. Revitalizing. The burgeoning storm ushered in cool air and finally broke the suffocatingly hot, humid weather that had plagued Velaris the last week.

He took a deep breath. And another.

The memory of the first song his shadows sang to him was not an unpleasant one. Perhaps one of the only memories from that place that didn’t belong to a nightmare. They did not sing of freedom or of hope. They sang of light. They saved him.

Every once in a while they would sing of that light. The light of stars against darkness, the light of dawn breaking after another battle won, the light of eyes sparkling in love. They wouldn’t sing of it often, but they usually sang when he needed it most.

Or whenever Gwyneth entered the room. They sang of light around her the most. Their song became loudest when she was near him and it always complimented her words, as if providing a symphony to accompany the voice that filled his dreams with rest. Real rest. Those few precious nights they fell asleep side by side doing research in the library had been the most peaceful and restful nights of his entire existence.

Azriel had been a fool. For all of his abilities to ferret out the secrets of others, to become those shadows to learn what words were whispered in the dark, he’d lost the ability to see past his own shortcomings.

He’d searched for the love he’d missed as a child his entire life. Azriel desperately wanted it for his own, to heal those old wounds and to finally become the creature he always thought he could be.

Instead, he’d lived in delusion after delusion. First, the Truth Telling Warrior Queen, and then the Lady of Flowers and Sun.

It wasn’t their fault, nor was it totally his. He didn’t realize how wrong he’d been until the creature the Mother and Cauldron had paired him with left.

Azriel couldn’t blame Gwyneth for leaving. It was the right move for her. The fact that she healed, that she worked so damned hard to be able to start a new life went beyond admirable. And she’d did it on her own. True, she had her Valkyrie sisters, himself and Cass as her mentors, and the Priestesses … and it was because of that support system that Gwyn was able to save herself from the dark and to follow her own dreams and her own path, whole and healed and independent.

And he would never stop her from being herself. Even if it ripped his heart to shreds to see her go. Even if he fought every day not to winnow to that sanctuary on the other side of the Night Court as she and the others began helping others heal from their own nightmares.

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with her. Hell, he didn’t even know he’d been in love with her until she left without saying goodbye. Until he found that godsdamned note pinned to his door, rolled up with a teal ribbon around it.

Again, words he wished he could forget burned into his memory …

Do not let the water break you, Shadowsinger. Do not be scared of the warmth light can bring either. Let it illuminate you, every part of you, because you are a creature deserving of every happiness, Azriel, and only you can stop you from finding it. I pray, one day, you will be able to leave your fear behind you. ~G.B.

Azriel lost her because he was afraid. The thing he’d chased his entire life alluded him because he’d finally found it and was too damned cowardly to admit it to himself. To admit that the teal-eyed Priestess Valkyrie Carynthian was in fact the love of his godsdamned life.

And she’d left and he refused to be selfish and to do anything that might potentially ruin the happiness she fought for and won. If anyone deserved living in the light of happiness and peace, it was Gwyn.

Azriel closed his eyes, the rain beginning to fall a little harder. A low rumble of thunder in the distance that belonged to nature and not his High Lord, rolled through his bones. He welcomed it.

“I’m sorry I was a fool,” Azriel said out loud.

The rain fell harder, drowning out his words. But as he said them, a small weight lifted as his shadows swirled around him, keeping some of the drops off of his skin. Their touch soft and reassuring.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

Lightning flashed. Another crack of thunder.

‘She sings for joy and hope, her voice like a snow white dove,’ his shadows lilted, singing in his ear.

Azriel smiled through his tears as they mixed in with rain. She was happy then, she was exactly where she needed to be.

“I love you, Gwyneth,” he shouted to the storm.

Lightning and thunder and rain and his shadows sang melodies to mix with the symphony of the storm as the entire weight of the godsdamned world seemed to be lifted from him entirely. The truth and freedom of it so cathartic he let out a laugh and sob and -

A phantom pull to his middle had the Illyrian warrior stumbling forward, his hands braced and caught himself on the red wall of the training circle atop the House of Wind.

Another tug near his sternum … right over his heart …

Azriel turned as his shadows’ melody, wordless and sweet, crescendoed. A rush of breath passed through his lips as he found wide teal eyes staring at him.

He couldn’t move. For the first time in his life, Azriel forgot everything. If anyone asked him his name he likely wouldn’t remember.

All that he knew was that the beautiful creature walking towards him was no mirage. She stopped in front of him. Her beautiful copper hair somehow still shining through the dark and in the rain as it plastered to her head.

Something sparked in his chest. And Azriel, for the first time in his life, knew true happiness.

********

Gwyneth’s heart pounded as she ran through the house. It closed doors as she approached rooms as if telling her to keep going, the Shadowsinger would not be there. She had dreamed of Azriel every night since she’d been gone.

His hazel eyes, his cheekbones, his lips - those lips that she’d stare at and would forget to actually listen to what he was saying. And she’d have to ask him to repeat whatever it was and he would always quirk a smile - always the left side of his mouth - and then do as she requested. Like he knew.

But when she admitted to feeling something more than friendship. When she finally worked up the courage to broach the topic, thinking that maybe he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to push her, he gave the worst response possible.

Silence. Nothing. Not a single sound had passed those lips she’d come to love.

So, she’d left. She would have stayed. Would have carried on her work in Velaris because it was just as fulfilling as the work she now did on the other side of the Night Court. But she wouldn’t torture herself being around the Shadowsinger any longer. She’d taken his silence as a sign from the Mother that it was time for her to fly away from the nest that allowed her to grow and heal, and to live on her own.

She still had Emerie and Nesta for support as they were winnowed in a couple of times a week to help with training. The priestesses and faeries she had started to work with and train she already knew would be friends or at the very least amiable students and colleagues. Her new endeavor was exciting and scary and thrilling and all the things that she always imagined life could be.

The new compound that she, Nesta, and Emerie had dreamed up had been funded by the High Lord and High Lady, having agreed that more sanctuaries like the library should be available to others. It turned out more beautiful than she could have imagined. The Home for Wayward Stars included a temple, training centers, stables, medical building, and library. All to offer services as well as to train faeries in whatever they’d like to learn.

The compound had been built along the sea, nestled in a previously untouched basin surrounded by mountains, not unlike Velaris itself. The High Lord of Day, along with Rhysand, warded it to ensure it remained a safe haven for those seeking shelter. It was also guarded by new members of the Valkyrie so that all who sought sanctuary could begin healing in peace.

The High Lord and High Lady had been beyond kind, and even built her a small apartment that had a balcony that overlooked the sea, the waves crashing right below her and faced east. Every morning the light greeted her along with the sounds of the sea and it was perfect.

Except it really wasn’t perfect because when she woke up from her dreams of Azriel she would be alone in bed. And it infuriated her.

And so, Gwyneth decided to do something about it. The silence of his response ate away at her. She wanted a real answer. She wanted to know if he felt the same or if he didn’t. Even if the answer meant heartbreak she needed it. For closure.

But as she ascended the stairs to the training circle atop the house, her heart began to pound in her chest, and she knew he was up there. When she reached the top step she heard his voice and closed her eyes. Hearing it in her dreams was far different than the real thing.

“I’m sorry I was a fool.”

Was he talking to someone she couldn’t see?

But as she went to step out onto the roof, shadows swarmed her. Cool yet comforting, they swirled around her and gently pushed her back. She furrowed her brow but stayed put.

Gwyn loved Azriel’s shadows. When they’d researched together they’d always provide light touches to any knots in her neck and shoulders as she read, or would offer a cool breeze atop the house when training at night. Azriel always seemed to fret they would scare her but she loved them. Just like she loved him. And she just didn’t understand why -

‘Priestess of Light and Sea and Song, wait, it will not be long.’

Gwyneth’s mouth opened as she stared at the swirling shadows around her. Did they … did they just sing to her to stay put?

But Azriel’s raised voice stopped her thoughts.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

She began shaking. Oh gods, what if he’d found someone else? What if she’d read him all wrong. What if he really was just a supportive friend and she had been so desperate -

“I love you, Gwyneth!”

Gwyn clamped a hand over her mouth just in time to muffle the sound of a small cry born from pure relief and joy. Her hand flew to her chest as her heart pulsed in a quick beat. She furrowed her brow and looked down. No, it wasn’t her heart, but very near it. Something around her heart.

‘We sing for our Master and thee, Princess of Light and Song and Sea, we sing for the mates of darkness and light and sky and sea.’

She stepped out onto the roof, the shadows retreating slightly but remained close to her. Out of pure magical instinct Gwyneth reached deep down into that place near her heart. The place that sparked alive whenever Azriel was near her or whenever she wished he was near her. She grabbed a hold of that place and tugged.

Gwyneth watched in equal parts wonder and amusement as the renowned Carynthian warrior stumble forward in response. He whirled and she couldn’t stop herself as she did it again.

Hazel eyes locked on hers and she knew all of the trepidation she’d felt had been for nought. He loved her. He only needed to go on his own journey to find it. And Gwyneth understood that the dreams she’d had must have been Mother sent to bring her back because Azriel was finally ready to accept the destiny that had been written for them in the stars long ago.

Azriel raised a wing out over her head to shield her from the rain. His shadows continued to swirl around them both.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

“Gwyn,” he breathed out, “What - how -“

She smiled as he sputtered slightly. Gwyn reached forward and laced her fingers through his. Her thumbs lightly running over the ridges of some of the raised bits of scars. Ridges and lines that she’d memorized during their moments alone together.

“I dreamt of you,” she whispered, “And I had to come see you. The house led me here and then your Shadows sang for me to wait while you shouted into the rain. Do you always bother storms with your confessions?”

Azriel’s mouth dropped open. His hands began to shake slightly in hers.

“They sang to you?”

Gwyneth nodded and smiled, “Would you like to venture a guess why?”

She watched, fascinated, as his shadows swirled around his ears. His eyes shuttered slightly and then began to glisten in the dark.

“Is it too soon to talk about a mating ceremony?” Azriel finally asked.

Gwyneth laughed, as tears of pure relief and joy stung her eyes. She ripped her hands from his and threw her arms around his neck. And kissed him.

Azriel’s mouth slanted over hers immediately. The kiss soft but heated as one hand dove into her hair and the other held her waist tightly to him. With the first tentative touch of his tongue to hers, fire lit her veins. She tipped her head back slightly and opened further for him.

His cedar and mist scent wrapped around her as surely as his shadows did, keeping them hidden. Gwyn held on to him, suddenly worried that maybe she dreamt again. That maybe this was nothing but dreaming.

But in that very moment of doubt Azriel pulled away from her. He ran his nose long hers and brushed his lips over hers in a way that made her consider how his lips would feel on her skin.

“This isn’t a dream,” he whispered, “And I love you and I’m sorry.”

She smiled and brought a hand up to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as she ran a thumb along his cheek bone.

“I love you, Azriel. But for your penance I must demand a couple of things for our future mating ceremony.”

His eyes opened and his lips quirked up. The left side of his mouth. Always the left side of the mouth. Her heart leapt in her chest as warmth spread through her.

“And what’s that Berdara?”

She pressed the front of her body to his, allowing her curves to mold to the hardness of him, to the cut of muscles honed over centuries of being a warrior. Her own warrior called to him, ready to take on anyone who would dare to hurt him. The instinct to protect, she mused, and they hadn’t even officially done anything. Not yet anyway. Hopefully not much longer.

“That we have our ceremony by the sea, our feet touching water and land. That we have our ceremony at dusk as day and night hedge on each other. So that sky and sea and dark and light surround us. So for that sacred moment it will seem like we teeter on the edge of the universe and its us. Just us. And that you will do your duties and live your life and I will do the same and we will carve out a life just for us by forging those parts of us together to make a whole. So that we’re both stronger.”

Azriel leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. He brushed his lips over hers again before placing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. His lips lingered and then slowly pressed kisses to her cheek and jaw line and then … then he kissed the sensitive spot below her ear, warm and pleasant and her knees buckled.

His lips curved into a smile against her skin and she wanted to scream at him to stop - to not stop - to do it again but more.

Azriel moved his mouth to press a kiss to the pulse at her throat, and her toes curled in her boots. All of her breathing techniques forgotten as she struggled to remember how to draw breath into her lungs.

With his blessed lips still against her skin, nuzzling her, he replied, “As you wish, Princess of Light and Song and Sea. It’s a good thing I’ll be able to winnow to you every night. Tell me Rhys and Feyre made your apartment big enough for someone with wings.”

“Our apartment. And yes. Now, kiss me again, Shadowsinger,” she smiled, “And this time. Don’t stop.”

Azriel flashed a grin and before Gwyn could form another thought his lips met hers. And she fell. No matter where she landed, and no matter where her journey led her from here, she knew that she would be living that journey with the Shadowsinger, her mate, beside her.

So they fell together as his shadows sang to them a song of darkness and light, sky and sea, hope and love.

*****************

hope you enjoyed! i love all possible ships and these two give me the feels.

#gwynriel #gwynriel week #azriel #gwyneth berdara #acotar fanfiction

[suchalonelysunflower]

A Dance Of Thorns (c.h)

Where The Roses Bloom - Chapter 4

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Welcome to the masquerade to celebrate Your Royal Highness engagement. How many surprises can one night hold?

Warnings: Angst, Drama and Smut. Language, mentions of alcohol and abuse. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry!)

Word Count: 12.3 k

Author’s note: by far the longest chapter I’ve written but anything for the drama ✨ I would love to hear your thoughts on this 🥰 Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || prologue || chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter five || chapter six || chapter seven || epilogue

A month has gone by since the first time you saw King Luke Hemmings and you found out that you are supposed to marry him in less than a few weeks. And ever since that moment, you have invested every little free time you have into trying to stop that from happening.

You spent your afternoons sitting down at the library, reading book after book that might contain some kind of information to let you escape that awful deal. But every book you read said the same thing “A King’s promise may never be broken by law”

Still, that didn’t stop you.

Calum was also helping in every way he could. In the afternoons on his free days, he would go to the public library in town, searching for anything that could help your situation. He would spend hours reading about foreign laws that could give you at least some kind of leverage. He would ask around, hoping some kind of gossip might help you win something against your father, but until now all your tries gave little to no satisfaction.

At night, Calum would climb the castle’s walls to your window. It was the only way you could spend some time together and share hushed conversations since your father forbade you to go out without a proper companion.

He would lay with you in your bed, curled up together as he told you stories about faraway lands his father once told him, all in attempts to distract your mind from the reality you were facing every time the sun came out. He would kiss you goodnight as you fell asleep in his arms, letting the beat of his heart work as the symphony of your dreams. You would whisper “I love you’s” in the darkest of the room, letting them get lost in the stars as they shined down on you.

Every night you would go to sleep with Calum around your arms, but when the sun came up all traces of him disappeared with the moon. Well, everything but the white rose he left on your dresser along with the promise of keep fighting for you, no matter how long it took.

And with the sun it came the charade. You acted as the most obedient daughter you could ever think of. You attended your lessons, you didn’t speak out of place and obliged to every activity that surrounded the wedding, whether it was about flowers, food, decorations… things you couldn’t care less about since you were determined no to marry the King.

King Luke was not a bad person, on the contrary, he was one of the few people you could have a conversation with besides Sir Michael. Many afternoons they would accompany you in the library, never commenting about the books you chose to read as they sat in silence one in front of the other, immersed in their reading or their hushed conversations.

You learned to find a friend in Luke, someone that could have at least the same amount of trust you once had with your brother. He would make you laugh and he’d tell you everything you wanted to know about him, it was so easy and somewhat comforting to know that you were not as alone as you felt. But that did not mean that he had your full trust.

After Ashton took your father’s side in this dilemma, leaving you alone in a marriage you wanted no part of, you lost every ounce of trust you once held in your heart. And even though Ashton did try to make it better, to apologize for the way he treated you; you did not let him go near you. Every time you found yourself alone with him, you ignored his every move, and if you were in the company of others you didn’t even dignify him with a glance. You knew you might be a little harsh on him, and all of this hurt you as well, more than you would care to admit. But if your father learned about you and Calum… who else could’ve told him if not your brother?

Out of all the people who could betray you, you never expected Ashton to be one of them and you let him know that, no matter how much you needed your brother with you. If he declared your death with this marriage before you were sent away, then he’d be dead to you as well.

You were not going to give up, not even with the ceremony breathing on the back of your neck. There must be a way where you could break this engagement, something that could give you your freedom again.

The ceremony was scheduled one day before your twenty-first birthday, one day before you gained your independence as a royal as the law said it, one day before you could refuse the King’s requests with total liberty. Your father had planned this well, you must admit at least that. But if there was a way where you could delay the wedding… somehow make it past your birthday without getting married, then you would be able to get away.

But that task was more difficult than you have anticipated since your father was in charge of your schedule, everything was going smoothly and at perfect timing. There was nothing that you could do to delay the event.

“I need you to hold your breath for me, Your Highness”

For example right now, as the seamstresses adjusted the corset of your white dress to your body, your mind was reciting the laws again, trying to find some plothole that could be beneficial for you.

The grip you had in the chair tightened as they tied the corset on your back, helping you get into the skirt afterward. You didn’t say a word as the seamstresses chattered among them. You ignored the comments regarding your future marriage, or how beautiful your children will look if they look just like the King, or how lucky you were to be marrying into a rich kingdom.

“You will look beautiful on your wedding day, Your Highness,” The oldest lady said with a dreamy sigh “Your lover will not know what hit him”

“But my love will not be the one waiting at the end of the altar” You wanted to say, to scream at them for keeping up with the lie. You didn’t love Luke, you could never love him the way you love Calum. But Calum was not your fiance, he was just a secret.

You kept the tears at bay as you let them work over your dress, not daring to breathe too loud so you wouldn’t call their attention. They didn’t know that you were dying in the middle of a sea of white fabric and soft silk.

“There,” The young lady exclaimed as she finished the last touch of your veil, placing it carefully on your head “Oh, Your Highness. You look like a dream”

A dream trapped in a nightmare indeed.

You observed your reflection in the nearest window. You didn’t look like a child anymore; no, in front of you was the reflection of a woman, of a bride about to be sent to the slaughter of her liberty. A clockwork tragedy waiting to happen.

The white contrasted with your skin and hair, making you glow with the candlelight. It made you look more mature, more like a royal than you ever felt before. It was a beautiful work, but none of this ever felt right.

“You look just like your mother” The words of the older lady took your breath away. The memory of your mother’s face was already fading in your mind, you remember she was beautiful, but you couldn’t make the color of her eyes or the sound of her voice anymore.

“She would be so proud of you, Your Highness”

Would she? Would she have wanted this for you? If she were here, would she care or would she take your father’s side? Oh, what would you give to listen to one last piece of advice from her. To feel her embrace one more time, for her to tell you that everything would be okay.

You haven’t really felt the absence of your mother hit you as hard as of now because maybe with your mother here you wouldn’t feel so scared.

“Oh, don’t cry, princess” You didn’t even notice the tears running down your face until the lady pointed out “This is a happy occasion! There needn’t be any tears”

Only if she knew…

You accepted the silk handkerchief and dried your tears without saying anything, letting them help you out of your wedding gown as you tried on another one.

This was a black dress with roses embroidered along with the skirt and neckline. It was lighter than the wedding dress but the fabric was more delicate. The somber aspect of the dress, along with its sophistication, made you think of it as a better choice for your wedding day.

“Your father was very kind to host a party to celebrate your engagement, Your Highness. This is a perfect dress for the occasion”

You knew by now that none of your father’s actions could be considered kind. He organized this masquerade ball for his own benefit.

The King of RoseWood invited representatives of all the neighboring kingdoms and alliances that Ashton helped build, to the castle for a magical night of dancing and fun. But you knew he just wanted to parade the match you and Luke made in front of the world.

He wanted to show power, the kind of which someone would look at him and say “This is a man that demands respect” When in reality all he did was abuse his power and intimidate the ones closest to him.

The masquerade served as a punishment rather than a delight. He would put you under the spotlight and expect you to smile while he knows you’re dying on the inside. He will parade you around the room with the story of a good and lovable daughter, the little Princess that’s living the dream of a magical life in the arms of the man you love all thanks to the father whom she loved with all her heart.

He knew that this was all bullshit, and he rejoiced in the fact that you hated every single minute of it.

“The dress is absolutely stunning, Your Highness” Continued the older lady “What a lovely idea you had when deciding to use one of your mother’s old gowns and make it new again”

You gave her a small smile. It was a lovely idea, but not for the reasons they might think. This dress represented much more than just your mother and your wish of having her close in a moment like this. It represented going against your father in ways that only he could understand; it represented your heritage, how you didn’t forget who truly loved you and taught you how to be strong; it represented the image of the rebellion you set upon yourself, a sign that screamed “I will not stop even if you try”

It represented you.

“There is only one detail missing…” The young lady walked over to the dresser only to grab something delicate in her hands before presenting it to you: The mask.

Soft and made out of silk and with golden broderies across the eyes, the mask hid half of your face perfectly. If not for the tiara you must wear on your head, nobody would’ve been able to recognize who you were.

How ironic was it that in the night where you should be the center of attention, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

*

The night was clear, all the stars and constellations were visible from where you were standing in front of your window. Your hands were touching the soft stones of the window frame as you tried to count your breaths.

You couldn’t help but look for him in the gardens, hoping you could see him waiting for you under your window, asking you to come to the tree where your meetings were held before everything went wrong. It’s only been a couple of days but you missed him, and with the way, he consumes all your thoughts it was almost impossible not to.

But he was not coming tonight, your father made sure that the help was not invited to the party since it was such an important event to make it “common”, so your meeting will have to wait until tomorrow.

Still, you imagined how it would be like if he were to attend the ball. You dreamt about his smile, how his eyes would shine once he spotted you standing there at the top of the stairs as he waited for you at the end of it. You wondered if he would like the dress and you wished you could show it to him.

You sighed as you imagined his hand taking yours, guiding you to the middle of the ballroom, and starting dancing with you as if nobody were watching. It’s been so long since your last dance with him and you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of his clumsy feet stepping over yours in an attempt to teach you how to dance for your first ball.

Calum was always like that, caring and selfless until he couldn’t give anymore. That is one of the many things why you loved him, why you would never stop loving him.

But now you were forced to pretend to love someone else in front of strangers and people who didn’t care about you enough to notice how much you were hurting. The glamour of the night might hide it, but you know that there was only one person who you would much rather spend the night with; the only person who would not be there tonight.

“Y/N?” A voice called from outside your room, waking up from your dreams as you heard them knocking softly on the door “Are you ready to go?”

You pushed yourself from the window with a deep sigh, grabbing the mask that was laying on top of the bed before walking towards the door and opening it with an emotionless expression.

There, Ashton was waiting for you, pacing the hall until he heard the wooden door open. His whole body froze as his lips parted for a second when he took your appearance.

“You-” He said, choking up a little bit as he shook his head for a moment, thinking he might’ve seen a ghost “You look just like her…”

You were not expecting that comment. You knew the dress would affect your father, but you didn’t imagine it would have that kind of effect on Ashton.

But now, as he stood in front of you with wide, watering eyes and the faintest hint of a smile, you realized that you might not be the only one who misses your mother.

Ashton knew her longer, he used to spend every single moment with her along with you when you were nothing more than a child. When she died, you didn’t quite grasp the concept of death, but Ashton was the one who took it way harder. But, as a prince, he was not allowed to break down as any other normal kid would do when they lose a parent who was dear to them. No, he had to maintain his image and at the same time took it upon himself to raise you as your mother would.

He was the only loving family you’ve ever known. But he was also the only person who had ever broken your heart.

You looked at him with a sense of pity and understanding.

“I wanted to feel her with me tonight” You told him, these being the first words you exchanged with Ashton in a long time.

You noticed this also affected him. His eyebrows raised slightly and he took one step towards you, still bargaining with your feelings towards him.

Ashton took your hand in his, covering it completely as he softly spoke.

“You are her spitting image, Y/N/N. She has always been with you and lived through you. Everything you do reminds me of her and I promise you she would be proud of the beautiful, brave woman you’ve become”

His words struck you more than they probably should have. Ashton was never the one who spoke freely about your mother, not since you stopped needing him as much. He always kept that part to himself unless you asked.

He thought so highly of your mother and now he was comparing her to you. For some reason, this served as no comfort, but rather it angered you. Not because you didn’t think your mother was a horrible person, but because you thought that maybe if they - your father and Ashton - loved you as much as they loved her, you wouldn’t have to be in this position.

“The only difference is that mother’s family did not sell her for marriage,” You said bitterly, pulling your hand from Ashton’s grip as you saw hurt flash through his eyes.

“Y/N-“

“She loved our father, Ashton” You cried “For some reason she loved him and she married for love. Why can’t you let me do the same? Why can’t you help me and let me be happy? Am I to be trapped forever in a loveless marriage just because of the greed of this kingdom's leaders? I don’t even know what alliances we are keeping! In what world is it fair that I have to sacrifice my spirit just to please your egos?”

“You know it’s not like that-“

“For you, maybe! But you know exactly what father is doing and why he is doing it and you are taking his side! Ashton, you are just as guilty as he is” Your truth was spilling out of your mouth with nothing but desperation.

You wanted your brother to know how you were feeling, how much you were willing to fight for your freedom. For weeks you’ve been holding these words out of pride and pettiness, but you cannot go a day longer without letting him know just how much this is affecting you.

“I can’t trust you, Ash, and I can’t pretend that we are going to be okay after all of this no matter what happens in the end. You broke my heart, and I don’t think you understand to what extent”

Ashton stood in front of you with his head low “You hate me”

“I’m disappointed” You admitted, knowing you will have a hard time trying to hate your brother.

“Y/N, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the kingdom. What’s best for you!” He excused “You will be safe in the Vail, you’ll be a Queen and I know King Luke will treat you right. You have to understand that this is hard for me, too. But I can’t be here to protect you-“

“Protect me?” You interrupted him “Protect me from what?” He stayed quiet “Ashton?”

“Your Highnesses?” A guard called from the end of the hall “The King awaits”

*

“Announcing Prince Ashton Irwin, Heir to the Throne of RoseWood, and Princess Y/N Irwin, Future Queen of the Vail”

Wilsburg’s voice ran across the ballroom accompanied with two stumps of his scepter, calling everyone’s attention as you and Ashton descended the staircase together, claiming your rightful titles as everyone’s heads turned around to see you.

You kept your head high with every step you gave. All eyes were on you but you were not able to recognize anyone as their faces were covered with masks of every form, color, texture, and shape.

When you reached the end of the staircase, you and Ashton walked together to the center of the room where your father was standing with a winning smile plastered on his face. You were never prone to violence, but the feeling of wanting to punch your father in the face and erase that smile grew every minute.

You stood in front of your father and his court and gave him a courtesy in sign of respect. Your father’s eyes met yours once you stood straight again, and you couldn’t deny the feeling of pride that overwhelmed you when you saw the pure disgust in them as he took a glance at what you were wearing, knowing that this time he couldn’t do anything about it.

“My children,” He said with fake tenderness as he opened his arms in welcome.

It was so easy for him to fool the people who surrounded him, making everyone believe he was a good, caring, and loving father. But you could see clearly through his mask, no matter how much he tried to hide it - this time literally as his masks covered most of his face - he will never look at you with an ounce of love.

“King Luke Hemmings from the Vail and his loyal advisor, Sir Michael Clifford from Chesthire” Wilsburg announced, saving you from your father’s stare as the attention shifted back to the staircase where Luke and Michael were.

They walked next to each other, his movements identical as they elegantly descended into the party. They were both wearing the shades of blue that represented their Kingdom, each of them with matching masks that made them look regal, undoubtedly showcasing their royal status and importance.

Luke spotted your little broken family in the middle of the room, smiling a little bit and nodding towards you as he and Michael approached you with ease while the guests made way for them.

“Your Majesty” Luke bowed to your father, but his attention did not linger on him as much because soon his eyes were on you.

You noticed how blue his eyes looked under the mask, his blond curls falling perfectly to his shoulders and making him look like an actual angel.

“Princess,” He said, bowing just enough to capture your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

“Your Majesty,” You greeted him with courtesy, thankful that at least you’ll have some friendly faces in the crowd. “Sir Clifford. I must say you look very elegant today,”

You caught a glimpse of blush under the young guard’s mask, his green eyes sparkled at the compliment. His outfit was not as elegant as Luke’s, but his hair was pushed back in a short ponytail at the ends of his neck making him look like a prince.

“One can only try, Your Highness” He answered with a dashing smile “But, surely, no beauty compares to you, Princess. People should envy your exterior as well as your kind heart. My King is a lucky man” He said, looking back at Luke who was already smiling at him.

King Richard cleared his throat loudly, making the three of you turn your attention to him. His jaw was tight as he showed a smile to the other monarch.

“Now that the guest of honor has arrived,” Your father said with a loud, authority tone “Let the festivity begin!”

The small orchestra that worked under your father’s orders started to play lovely symphonies the minute those words came out of their King’s mouth. The other guests soon resumed their previous chatter and quickly got lost in the celebratory atmosphere, some grabbing drinks while others started dancing along with the soft melodies.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with your fingers as you watched how your father called Ashton’s attention and took him aside for a talk. Your eyes roamed across the room, feeling out of place as you caught glimpses of people passing by, not knowing anyone as they proceeded to ignore you.

You thought about how this will be your life from now on. How you will end up alone in some party you don’t feel comfortable in just to please the aesthetics of how a royal should be. People will not be interested in you, only your title, and they will judge you, envy you, hate you, and take advantage of you for it. You will not be Y/N anymore, you won’t have the chance to. You will be a Queen and that’s all people will want to know as you will be pushed away into someone’s shadow.

“Not much of a social butterfly, I see” You heard Luke comment next to you, leaning over to your side so he could whisper in your ear.

You gave him a small smile, “I was never really fond of parties,” You admitted quietly “Which is ironic, given that I always wanted to attend these kinds of gathering when I was a child”

Luke laughed softly, “I believe that is because you don’t know how to properly have fun at a party” He chuckled once he saw your confused gaze “Michael, have you seen Lady Thompson today?”

Michael, who was standing in front of you, smiled as his gaze followed Luke’s “I cannot believe she came here after the scandal”

“The scandal?” You asked, trying to see whom they were talking about.

“Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard?” Luke asked casually “Her poodle caught a case of hair eating fleas, and once they left the poor dog bald, they went for the main of hair Lady Thompson used to brag about”

Yours parted your lips in shock, but Michael continued “Not only that, but I heard she’s telling everyone how her hair grew back in just a few hours by putting some kind of magical mud she found near the river end”

Finally, your gaze fell into the person they were discussing and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“That’s not Lady Thompson, her name is Lady Judith from the Mountains of Chaversty” Your eyes fell back on Luke and Michael, who were trying to suppress a laugh “You are mocking me…”

“Not at all, Princess,” Luke said with a chuckle “We are just teaching you how to have fun”

“When we were kids, we used to sneak into the palace’s parties and hide under tables watching people pass and creating narratives about their lives” Michael explained “We started with a simple sentence, and then we created the most outrageous stories from them. The one who could come up with the craziest storyline would win”

“And somehow, I always ended up losing,” Luke smiled as Michael shrugged.

“It’s not my fault that you lack creativity,”

You smiled fondly at their teasing banter. You were amazed at how titles were forgotten when they were just talking to one another, it seemed so simple to them to call each other by their name as if they were normal people. And seeing that, somehow, made you feel less alone.

They taught you how to play in between their anecdotes and inside jokes, but you didn’t feel left out as you remember Luke’s words about Michael and how much he means to him. It was their little thing, their little moment in time that they could share with none other than each other, and still were kind enough to share some of that with you.

You spend a few hours playing the game and laughing along with them as they found you a worthy opponent with how many crazy stories you could pull out of your mind in an instant. One of the rules was that you couldn’t tell real names nor real gossips about those people to keep their integrity and the innocence of the game, so all your thoughts and outraged comments were taken lightly with fun. You even won a couple of times.

From time to time, people came to congratulate you and Luke on your engagement. You were glad to know that they could never notice how uncomfortable you looked thanks to the mask, but you were one hundred percent sure that he and Michael noticed how your posture changed and how you tensed at the mention of the wedding. Luckily, they brushed it off and carried on like it was nothing.

Sometime later, Luke went to grab some drinks for you and him, leaving you alone with Michael who quickly started a conversation with you about sword fighting and training.

You were too immersed in the conversation that you didn’t notice a person standing behind you until they cleared their throat.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” You heard someone say. The familiarity of that voice sent shivers down your body and made your throat dry the second you heard it.

You turned around in a fast movement that made the skirt of your dress appear like it was floating above the floor. Your breath got caught up in your chest as you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inhale and exhale your body made the moment your eyes met his.

There he was, hiding under a white mask that matched his white and gold suit that once belonged to his father. There he was, standing in front of you and hiding in plain sight as his brown eyes were set on yours, taking you in as he let out a sigh in amazement.

“Calum…” You wanted to call him by his name out loud, to jump into his arms as you let the tears that were gathering in your eyes fall free from the happiness you were feeling at that moment. The kind of happiness only he could bring with such ease; the kind of happiness that you longed to experience all your life as long as he was next to you.

But you couldn't say that, you couldn’t blow his cover like that. If they found out he sneaked into the party, they would surely put him in the dungeon for god knows how long. He took a lot of risks coming here, and one word from you might throw that all away.

Instead, Calum noticed your hesitant shock, so he smiled softly as he said.

“Will you give me the greatest honor and pleasure of sharing one dance with me, Your Highness?”

You wanted to answer immediately, but according to the protocols a woman always needs their partner's permission to dance with a stranger. But Luke was not your real partner and Calum was not a stranger. You could feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest from how strongly it was beating, but you couldn't identify if it was beating out of excitement or fear.

You looked over to Michael who was already staring at you with a curious gaze. He could easily see the unsaid pleading inside your eyes as you fought with the need to take this stranger’s hands in yours. The green-eyed man looked over between the two of you and was able to connect the dots in an instant.

Then, he simply smiled understandingly as he said “Just another secret between us, Princess” Looking at you like the way he did the morning you eavesdropped on your father’s conversation with Luke.

You let out a breath of relief as you nodded, silently thanking him as you watched him walk away just a little bit to give you and Calum enough privacy.

When you turned back to Calum, he looked as relieved as you felt, kindly offering his hand to you.

“May I take this dance, my rose?”

“You may”

Calum took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as he softly guided you to the middle of the dance floor where several other couples were waiting for the next piece to start.

He placed a hand to your waist, stocking his fingers slowly over the fabric and bringing you closer to him as he held your hand with his other one. You blushed as you placed your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly to encourage him.

You both understood how recklessly dangerous this was; to be dancing in front of everyone as your fiance stood somewhere in the room, probably wondering where you were, and with your father and brother at such a close distance. But neither of you cared when your eyes met again through the masks.

You didn’t care about the risks as long as you were holding each other like this; when you finally felt free inside the cage.

A sweet melody filled the air, but you were too focused on Calum to even listen. You only realized the dance has started when you felt his fingers grace your waist tightly as he spun you around with delicacy, taking the lead as you followed his steps with care.

Memories of your first dance together flooded your mind and you couldn’t help but smile. You were only children back then, now it seems like another life.

“You learned how to dance…” You said fondly in a hushed tone, a blush covering your cheeks as you heard him softly chuckle at your comment.

“I had to. I didn’t want to embarrass myself the next time we’d dance”

“You knew there would’ve been the next time back then?”

“I always hoped I’d get to dance with you again after that night” He admitted, his eyes never leaving yours “You are the only one who I’d like to dance with all my life”

His feet moved carefully around your dress, following the other couples as they spun and changed places with their partners placing their hands together between their two bodies. A classical dance made for lovers, for one must never leave their partner’s eyes as they spin and turn just to fall back into their arms again.

It was slow at first, building its tempo as more instruments were added to the melody, making it enchanting, haunting as they took over the room with an admirable strength that only a feeling of utter power could describe as beautiful. It was supposed to represent passion and how it can dominate you, slowly and then all at once before you even realize it was there.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my rose,” He said once his hand was placed to your lower back, pulling you closer to him as you let your hand wander just inches from the back of his neck. “You always knew how to put flowers to shame, but tonight you look just as radiant as the moon itself”

“Calum…”

“Shh,” He whispered, “Let me tell you my truth while I still can, my love. For if this is one of the last times I shall see you, let me relish on how beautiful you are. Let me tell you all the compliments in the world and see me fall short since no compliment could ever be enough to capture just how enchanting you are”

You tugged on the hand that was holding yours.

“Why do I feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

“I’m not” Calum answered quickly “That’s the last thing I’ll ever do. But seeing you tonight just reminded me that I don’t tell you how much you mean to me. And I promise you that when we get out of this situation, I promise that I’ll tell you every day of my life”

“When,” You thought “Not if, but when. It’s just a matter of time”

To know that Calum hasn’t given up on you, on your love, meant the world to you. Most of the time you felt like you were battling alone as if no one was listening. But he was right there with you, even if you couldn’t see him or be with him all the time. He still hasn’t given up on you.

You felt it right there; the love. He was risking everything for you, to see you and be with you in the night where you’re supposed to celebrate your engagement. He broke every rule for a moment with you, knowing that you would do the same for him.

The music kept going, the crescendo was at its peak. Calum grabbed you with both his hands on your waist and picked you up as he turned around, placing you back on the ground to your initial position of one of your hands intertwined while the other rested on his shoulder and your lower back.

You giggled like children as he put you down, pretending the world didn’t exist as you swayed to the music. Tonight, you were a young couple enjoying their first dance together and loving every minute of it. Nothing else mattered.

You didn’t feel the stares of the guests or Ashton’s careful gaze as he tried to decipher who you were dancing with. You didn’t hear the whispers or notice how Luke hid his smile in his drink as he handed the other to Michael who looked at you in complicity. You didn’t see where your father has run off to, but you didn’t care.

You were in love. You were dancing with the love of your life; letting him guide your steps carefully as the crescendo started to go down and his grip on you tightened, not wanting to let go of this moment.

“I love you” Calum whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled like the sun “You are risking a lot by saying that here”

He shook his head “And I’ll risk even more if I have to. I cannot go a day without telling you I love you, my rose. Even if they throw me in the dungeon, I’ll find my way to you”

“Don’t say things like that,” You warned him as the melody started to fade “I’ll be damned if I lose you, Calum. This was reckless enough from both of our parts”

“And yet, you’re still dancing with me” He smiled as his movements started to slow down “My love for you is as reckless as it is endless, Y/N, and if I have to risk myself a thousand times; if I have to die a thousand times to love you freely then so be it. All of that will be worth it as long as you say it back”

You stare at him with tears in your eyes as the song reaches its end.

“I love you”

Calum stopped completely, letting go of his grip on your back but still holding your hand on his.

“And just like that, everything is worth it,” He said, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

You smiled at him, chuckling through the unshed tears as you pondered in disbelief at just how lucky you are to love him and be loved by him.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said with a bow of his head.

“Aren’t you going to stay?” You knew you sounded a little desperate, but he just got here and, even though it was a little selfish on your part, you wanted him here just a little bit longer if possible.

Calum smiled “Only with the promise of another dance, my rose”

You nodded gracefully as Calum bowed once again before you watched him disappear into the crowd.

Your smile was still evident in your face as you gathered yourself and started to back up into the crowd, maybe try to find Luke to keep appearances until Calum asks for another dance.

“What a promising young man. Isn’t he, Y/N?”

The blood in your veins froze when you heard your father’s voice from behind you. You stood still, hoping you misheard him or mistaken him for another person that was passing by.

“Say, do we know him by any chance?” King Richard said with a mocking interest that made you want to run away right in that instant to find Calum and ask him to hide somewhere.

Instead, you turned around, and as calmly as you could, you answered:

“I’m afraid not, father. He didn’t tell me his name before nor after our dance”

“Didn’t I tell you never to talk to strangers, little Princess?”

He stood in front of you with a wicked smirk, not really waiting for an answer as he puffed his chest, showcasing the Kingdom’s shiny emblem on his fancy attire.

Your father lived for the adoration and fear of his subjects; he relished in your fear towards him for many years now, watching with delight as you submit to him out of fear or hope for any kind of attention he could show you. He adored the power he had over you, on how easy it was just to mess with your life as you’d allowed him to. And now, as you looked into his eyes you could see the fun he was having watching you tremble under his gaze, fearing that he might’ve discovered you.

The King looked you up and down and smirked as he announced “I believe it’s time for a father and daughter dance!”

The people who were gathering around the two of you started clapping and cheering as your father looked at you with a pleased gaze. You watched as the couples who were getting ready for the next dance suddenly left and were now standing to the side, anxiously waiting for the Princess and the King to have a sentimental moment.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Ashton who was making his way to the center of the room, pushing people as he tried to get to you; on the opposite end of the room, Luke drifted his gaze between you and Michael with a hint of worry in his eyes. Calum was nowhere to be found as your eyes searched for him in the crowd and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him.

King Richard ran out of patience. He grabbed your hand in what seemed a delicate touch, but only you could feel how his nails dug in the skin of your hand, forcefully pulling you to the dancefloor.

You felt disgusted as his hand gripped your waist, snapping his fingers to the musicians with his other hand before gripping your wrist and holding it high.

When the music started, he moved you around the dancefloor in stiff circles; there was no delicacy, no softness in his touch as he dragged you at the rhythm of one of the sweetest melodies you’ve heard.

“That dress does not belong to you” Your father whispered in between a smile. A tone of warning lacing his every word.

You felt the buckle of your knees weakened your step, but you didn’t dare move your eyes from his.

Too long you’ve been under his domain, living in fear of his next move whenever you were left alone with him. The bruises healed but the scars remain as your memory recalled the moments where he would get so mad at you just for being there, how he hated you just for looking like her.

All the pain, self-doubt, hatred, and fear he put you through… all the times you let him win because you didn’t think it could ever become worse… it all came crashing down into a feeling of anger and resentment that only served to give you strength for your next words.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, father” You defied him with fake ignorance “This is my dress. My mother left it for me. Don’t you like it?”

King Richard locked his jaw, his eyes spitting fire as you held his stare without moving an inch as you danced through the room.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N,” He said with a wicked smile “And you won’t win. You can’t”

He laughed maliciously as he saw the shocked look in your eyes.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out what you were doing in the library this past few weeks?”

Your heart stopped at the statement, feeling weak as he got you figured it out. But how? How could he know unless someone told him? Someone who knew what you were looking for…

The color drained from your face as you stuttered “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t play stupid, you insolent child” His grip on your wrist tightened, hurting you in front of everyone without raising any suspicion “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall of this goddamned castle and you think you can outsmart me by hiding in the library and looking through the books of laws? But you still haven’t found what you’re looking for, correct?” He asked, smiling as he saw how you frowned at the truth “And I’ll make sure you never will. My plans will not be ruined by a weak little girl”

“Plans?” You asked suddenly, realizing that he overshared something he might’ve not supposed to say “What are you-?” You started, before everything became clear, remembering Ashton’s words from a few hours prior “The wedding, the alliance… That’s all just a trick, isn’t it? You need something from them, from Luke…”

You smiled to yourself as you saw your father speechless for the first time.

“You need me,” You stated as a matter of factly “And you know that I won’t ever help you voluntarily, that’s why you are forcing everyone to do this. You know I can stop you, you know there is a way to stop all of this and you’re afraid…”

His fingers dug into your skin with force, leaving red marks that will become bruises, but you didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t want to play games with me, child” King Richard said, all niceties dropped from his face “I am the King!”

“And I’m not scared of you!” You smiled with sufficiency “Look around, father. You want to play? Let's do it. Hurt me in front of all these people, let them see how their monarch loves his daughter. You cannot hurt me here”

A sense of pride came over you as you finally stood up for yourself to your father. You finally saw a flash of fear pass by his eyes as he scanned the room and saw all the eyes on him.

“I will stop you”

But then, the King smiled like the devil.

“I’d like to see you try. Stop the music!” He suddenly yelled, making all the guests flinch at the sound of his voice.

Your movements came to a stop, but the grip he had on your hand just became tighter and tighter, crushing your bones as you tried to get rid of his touch.

“My daughter, Princess Y/N, just had the most wonderful idea!” He announced to the crowd as you looked at him in shock while he smiled “She told me she cannot wait to be married, just like any other lady” He joked, making the guest laugh at you.

Your father cupped your face by the chin, applying pressure on it so you wouldn’t be able to say a word as he exclaimed:

“And who am I to deny anything to my beautiful, beautiful little princess? The wedding ceremony will take place in two days! And you are all more than invited!”

The crowd cheered and clapped as you felt sick to your stomach. Two days?! How are you going to stop everything in only two days?

You released yourself from your father’s grip, tears clouding your eyes as you saw the winning smirk on his face.

“I warned you not to play games, little rose”

You stood in horror as you watched your father disappear into the crowd, accepting congratulations on your behalf and laughing with the other guest at your “eagerness” of getting married already.

“Y/N?” You heard Ashton said and he placed a hand on your shoulder “Are you-?”

You felt your breathing start to pick up, short and fast exhales came with almost no intake of air to your lungs. You were getting dizzy, disoriented as you analyzed the situation.

It was so fast… too fast. It all happened too fast.

“Y/N-” Ashton tried again, but you shook yourself from his touch.

“For fuck’s sake leave me alone!” You half-whispered, half yelled as you picked up your skirt and ran away from the ballroom.

The sound of your heels clicking on the floor was drowned by the sound of your breathless sobbing as you desperately looked for a way out of the castle.

You couldn’t stay here anymore. You needed to find Calum, see if he’s okay, and just leave. But with every step you took your worry grew stronger as thoughts of Calum hurt flashed through your head.

“Rose,” He said. Your father called you rose. He knew. He knew! And you couldn’t find Calum.

“Y/N!” A voice called from behind you, the sound of their heels coming closer as you tried to get away from there “Y/N, wait!”

You were almost at the door leading to the gardens, just a few steps from freedom when you felt a hand grip your arm, making you stop.

Luke stood there in front of you, almost breathless as his eyes filled with worry when he saw your tear-filled eyes and your trembling lip trying its hardest to suppress a cry.

Without thinking it twice, the young King pulled you into a hug. You were shocked at first but eventually, you relaxed in his arms as he let you cry onto his chest, hearing muffled apologies in between sobs.

“It’s okay,” He said softly, looking to his side to find Michael catching up with them at a distance “It’s okay”

“No!” You cried “No, it’s not! Luke I-” You stopped as the words of your father filled your brain “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall…”

You grabbed onto Luke’s hand and guided him outside the palace, looking over your shoulder in case someone tried to approach you.

“Tell Michael to stay at the entrance,” You told him.

Luke nodded as he signaled Michael to stay where he was, letting you take him away to the entrance of the woods where you were somewhat hidden from the palace while still being able to see it from where you were standing.

“What is going on?” Luke asked calmly “Why are we hiding? Why did you tell your father you wanted to marry this soon? I-”

“I didn’t do it! You have to believe me in this, Luke. Please” You begged “He is trying to hurt me, to hurt you! I didn’t want any of this to happen, please believe me that I had no idea that would happen”

Luke sighed, placing both his hands on your shoulders to try and calm you down “I believe you”

“You do?”

He nodded with a soft smile.

“Yeah, this is the first time I heard you say my name so I know this is serious,” Luke said “Why is he trying to hurt you?”

You didn’t answer, how could you? You trusted Luke, but did you trust him enough? How in the world would you tell your fiance that you are in love with someone else and that your father wants to punish you for it, that this whole charade of lies was created for dangerous means, and that he might also be in danger?

After a while, Luke asked softly:

“Is it because you love another, don’t you?” You froze, eyes filled with fear as you looked at him “It’s hard to pretend not to love someone when you’re close to them. I could see it while you were dancing with him, because it was him, wasn’t it? The man who owns your heart?”

You lowered your head, eyes filling with tears as you whispered “Luke-”

“It’s okay, love” He reassured, caressing your face and cupping your cheeks so you would look at him “I knew from the start that you belonged to another, and tonight I recognized that look, that complicit smile you only find in those whose life complete yours in a way where you didn’t think it was possible. I have never seen you as happy as you were dancing with him. You truly love him, do you?”

“More than anything” You answered without a doubt.

“And he surely loves you. It was more than obvious from the way he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout the dance. He’s a lucky man, and he knows how to give himself entirely to you. I don’t think I have ever seen a man so in love before”

“You sure know a lot about love, Luke,” You said surprising him “You know just as much as a man who is or has been in love before”

He chuckled lightly “That’s because you’re not the only one with a heart owned by another, Princess”

Luke averted his gaze back to the castle, a nostalgic cloud covering his baby blue eyes.

“Is your love waiting for you at home?” You asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

He chuckled softly before his expression changed from dreamy, to worry, to sad, you pretended you didn’t notice how his eyes became glossy from the tears.

“He’s the only home I’ve ever known…”

Then, you understood. Luke was not looking at the castle; he was looking at the person guarding the entrance, commanded by his King.

Your heart filled with an indescribable joy as you took your hand and placed it on Luke’s cheek, softly wiping a tear that started to roll down.

“I guess we are both stuck in this, huh?” He laughed, looking at you in the way only a strong bond could describe.

“But you don’t have to be,” He said, “Your love, do you know where he is?”

You started to shake your head, but then you remembered something.

“I think I might have an idea”

“Go to him.” Luke encouraged, kissing your knuckles before letting go of your hand “Michael and I will cover this entrance, I’ll tell everyone who asks that we were together talking and walking through the gardens the whole night so no one gets suspicious”

You could almost cry of relief at his words. You jumped into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek while muttering a small “Thank you” before you started running through the woods, knowing exactly where to go and hoping that he’ll be there.

*

“Calum!” You sighed with relief, finally feeling like you could breathe when you saw him in front of your tree.

You took your chances coming here, not knowing if he was going to be waiting here or if he was somehow captured by your father's orders.

On your way to your secret place, your heart could not stop racing, the countless tragic possibilities flooded your mind as you ran through the woods, not caring if some parts of your dress got ripped because of your careless moving.

But there he was, sitting in one of the roots that were visible from the surface. He was not wearing his mask as he fiddled with it between his fingers until the moment he saw you.

“Y/N!” He breathed, getting up from his improvised seat and running towards you, involving you in a tight embrace. Only then, wrapped in your arms you understood Luke’s words.

Only there you felt truly at home.

“I thought something happened to you” You cried into his chest as you felt his hand soothe you while caressing your back “My father…”

“I know,” He said, placing a small kiss on the top of your head “When he announced the ceremony I could see a couple of guards coming my way, I had no choice but run”

Your whole body shook in terror when he said that. Now you knew your father was planning on hurting Calum now that he knew who he was. Unless he’d always known…

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said when he felt you cry again “It’s okay, my love. I got away, didn’t I?”

“Now, but you know what he’s capable of doing, Cal. You saw what he did at the party! He moved the wedding closer because he knew we’ve been searching for ways to stop it. He knows who you are and if anything- if anything happens to you, I-”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” Calum stated, pulling you away from him just enough so he could see your face and cup your cheeks with his hands “I will not let anything happen to me or you, I promise. I will be there for you, Y/N, always”

You nodded but still felt a cloud of darkness surrounding you. You trusted Calum more than anyone, but this might be the first promise that he might not fulfill. Your father is a powerful man that reigned by inflicting fear into his people and respect by his equals basing himself with lies.

If he could turn your world upside down with just a couple of words… what would he do to Calum?

“How did you know I was here?” Calum asked, trying to lighten the mood when he noticed you spacing out in sorrow.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to the floor “I had a hunch”

“Were you followed?”

“No, Luke and Michael stayed to watch the entrance and the surroundings” Calum looked at you puzzled “We can trust them, it’s okay. Luke doesn’t want to marry me either”

“What a fool-”

“He doesn’t want to marry me because, like me, he is in love with someone else,” You said with a smile that quickly disappeared with your next thought “And now we’ll both be trapped in a marriage where we’ll be forced to be away from the ones we truly love”

“Then don’t marry him,” Calum said in a breath.

You rolled your eyes “Is not that easy, Calum. You know that-”

“That a King’s promise may never be broken. But what if the King promised something that can’t be possible?”

His tone was questioning, almost as if he wasn’t sure of what he was saying either and he was just thinking at the top of his head.

“Love, what are you-?”

“What if you couldn’t marry the King because you’re already married?” He asked, more certain this time.

You were about to answer him with another question, trying to understand what he was trying to say. But he continued, trying to explain himself better.

“You know the law commands that no one should remarry while still being married to another partner. What if- what if we get married first? That way-”

“That way the King’s promise will be null” You finished for him “Because the bride he promised is a married woman who cannot go over the law… Calum, that’s genius but how-?”

“I thought about it for a while when I came over the statement that ruled that no law should cancel another”

You looked at him confused, but with a smile showing on your face “And you’re telling me this now?”

He looked nervous.

“I-I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. It is a huge risk, not to mention a lot of responsibility as well, and I didn’t want to pressure you into marrying me if you weren’t sure you wanted that. I thought we could find another way out before the ceremony, so I kept it a secret for some time. I admit I was afraid of how you might react”

You answered him with a tearful chuckle as you jumped into his arms and crashed your lips to his as you caught him by surprise.

It was impossible to deny the happiness you felt as he responded to the kiss as eagerly as you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“If you thought for a second that I would ever say no to that, then you might not know who you’re asking for her hand in marriage,” You said, smiling against his lips, chasing them into another kiss as a complete feeling of euphoria came over you.

Calum smiled, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and picking you up as he spun you around, laughing along with you as your giggles could be heard from all around the woods, for you just made him the happiest man on earth.

“If we are going to do this,” He said as he put you down “Let me do this properly”

You felt your eyes filled with happy tears as you watched Calum get down on one knee in front of you. Smiling at you with bright brown eyes that shined like the stars from Orion above.

“Y/N,” He started “My love, my rose. God knows this is not the way I planned this; in my dreams we are sailing away to a new land, traveling the world as we share our dreams and make them come true before our eyes. In my dreams I had a ring to give you, a pretty speech prepared, and a thousand lights to illuminate the way you looked, bringing the start to shame.

But I have no ring, and the words that are coming out of my mouth come straight from my heart. But the moon does shine on you, my love and you’ve never looked so beautiful as you do.

I cannot offer much. I’m no royal nor do I own stacks of land that could be ever worthy of you, my love. I cannot offer you a house, I cannot offer you fancy dresses or expensive jewelry, I cannot give you the kind of life royalty deserves. But I can give you all my love as we made the world our home. Because all I need, Y/N, to live a happy life is for you to be by my side if you let me.

I knew I wanted to marry you since the moment I saw you standing in that pile of dirt when we were nothing more than children venturing in a world filled with adult problems. I knew I loved you then, even before I knew what love is. And, if you let me, it would be my honor to love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, my rose?”

You tearfully nodded, covering your mouth with your hands as you tried to prevent a sob from getting out.

“Yes,” You said softly before repeating it loudly “Yes!”

In an instant, you threw yourself into Calum’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you by your waist, helping you straddle his lap, one leg at each side of his hips, as he pushed your skirt to the sides so you’d be closer and more comfortable.

You wasted no time in pressing your lips against his, letting your hands play with his hair as he rocked your bodies together, deepening the kiss as far as you’d let him.

A little moan escaped your mouth when you felt his tongue press against your bottom lip. Calum took this opportunity to capture every sound you made as you granted him more access, parting your lips slightly and letting him explore more of you as you got drunk with his touch.

“Say it again” He begged, his lips now leaving kisses along your jaw as your fingers tangled and tugged on his hair, making him groan against your skin.

“Yes,” You whispered breathlessly.

You felt your skin on fire every time his lips trailed along your jaw and neck, kissing it gently as you melted against him. It wasn’t something new, you’ve kissed like this before and stopped before it turned into something else, but there was something about tonight.

You didn’t know if it was the proposal, the adrenaline, or the simple need of being together now more than ever since your future is still uncertain. But every single kiss, every sound, every move… it just made you crave it even more.

“Calum…” You breathed, tugging his hair to bring him even closer to you.

He muffled a groan into your neck, letting the smell of your perfume intoxicate him as you moved your hips closer to him, “Love, don’t do that” He whispered, almost begging you to stop as he knocked his forehead with yours “You know that if this goes any further, I might not be able to stop”

You’ve been intimate before, only not like this. It wasn’t uncommon for you to lay next to each other, whether it was on our bed or in the clear spot next to the tree. You would explore your bodies with soft touches and lingering kisses that always felt like the start of something but that never lead to anything other than whispered confessions and soft makeout sessions.

The need was always there, you both felt it before, but this time you had no intention of stopping.

“Then don’t,” You said softly, looking into Calum’s eyes as he raised his eyebrows in shock.

“Y/N…”

“Don’t stop, Calum, please” You whined, moving your hips again to gain some kind of friction between the layers of fabric as you felt how his cock hardened in his pants “I want it. I want you”

Calum stopped your movements altogether, holding your hips with one hand as the other one cupped one side of your face, making you look at him when he asked.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?” His breath was heavy, but his eyes were determined as he gazed into yours “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not one hundred percent-”

You placed your fingers on the top of his lips to silence him.

“I was yours since the day we met.” You whispered, a soft smile illuminating your face “I was yours the day I told you I love you. I was yours when we danced tonight and I’ll be yours forever for the rest of my life. Make me your wife, Calum. Be mine and make me yours again”

Something shifted in Calum’s eyes at the sound of your words as lust settled all over them. He wasted no time in pulling you closer to him, capturing your lips in a much more heated kiss.

It was entirely different from whatever you’ve experienced before with him. This kiss was sloppy, a mixture of tongues and teeth as he bit your bottom lip. The sounds that came from both of you died in your throats as you desperately acted upon your desires.

You pulled apart for one minute as you took the top part of your dress, throwing it god knows where as you tried to untie the knots of your corset. Calum took it upon himself to start kissing your neck again, this time with more freedom to roam across your collarbone. “Let me,” He said softly after a while, letting his hands take over yours as they started to undo the knots one by one.

Once you were free, you felt Calum’s hands cup your breasts, massaging them as you moaned softly, still moving your hips with a more steady and fast rhythm against his groin looking for some sort of release.

“Y/N,” Calum moaned, taking his hands off your breast down to your hips, halting your movements once again “Lay down for me, my love” He whispered, kissing your earlobe as you felt goosebumps all over your body.

Calum took off his suit jacket, laying it on the floor so you’d be more comfortable. You sat back on your elbows as you watched him take off his shirt, leaving him with his chest exposed to you.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him shirtless on top of you. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but the context is different now that you can admire his well-defined abs under the moonlight. You couldn’t resist letting your fingers caress his chest with barely-there touches over his muscles and nipples, making him let out a breathy moan as soon as you did.

But before you could go any further, he grabbed you softly by the wrist.

“Not yet, Princess,” He said, lust laced in every word as he let your hand go to start working on getting you out of that skirt and underwear.

He worked quickly, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt his eyes on you and your first instinct was to cover yourself even though shame was the last thing in your mind right now. Despite that initial response, you felt safe with him, the safest you felt in years.

Calum smirked playfully, shaking his head as he grabbed both your hands in his and pinning them over your head “Don’t hide from me, my love” He said, lips hovering over yours but never touching them as he started kissing the spot under your ear, leaving you breathless in a second.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift in pleasure as you felt Calum’s lips trail down to your breasts, kissing each one of them softly around the pebbled nipples, sucking and biting them as you felt your arousal grow with every new sensation.

Once he felt satisfied with the way you were moaning, he started kissing along your chest and down to your stomach, leaving a trail of fiery kisses until he stopped before reaching your core.

Calum let go of your hands which immediately flew to his hair when he started kissing the inside of your thighs, getting closer but not close enough to where you needed him most.

“Calum,” You moaned, feeling his breath over your entrance.

“Say it again,” He asked, kissing your right leg as his hands wandered over to your ass, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him “Say yes, again”

“Yes.” You said in one breath.

“Again” He demanded softly, kissing you over your mound.

“Yes.”

“Again”

“Yes, oh...”

No sounds came out of your mouth as he placed his lips over your clit, kissing it softly at first before starting to lightly suck on it. You then felt him lick a long stripe up your center, making you shiver each time as he always ended up at your clit, gathering your arousal in his tongue and moaning at the taste, sending glorious vibrations up to your core. He smiles when he feels you tug on his hair with every breathy moaned you let out, letting him know that you were enjoying this as much as he was.

Soon, you felt his fingers trace along your folds up and down, stopping at your entrance a couple of times before he pushed the first finger inside, making you both moan at the feeling.

Then, a finger became two as Calum started to move them inside and out of your tight hole at a fast pace while his lips remained attached to your clit, licking and sucking over it until you reached your first climax of the night.

Calum licked you through your orgasm, lapping on your arousal until he heard you whine thanks to the oversensitivity. Then, he pulled himself up, kissing a trail from your stomach to your lips.

You were seeing stars behind your eyelids as you tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning as you felt his hard, clothed cock brush over your sensitive core.

“Calum,” You whimpered as he pulled away from his lips to let his head fall to your side, kissing your neck with zeal.

“Tell me what you want, my love” He whispered in your ear, making your whole body shiver under him as he kissed your cheeks tenderly “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you the world”

“You, only you”

He smiled, prompting himself onto his elbows to kiss your lips again.

“I’m yours”

It took no time for Calum to get rid of his pants and thrust into you, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he kissed the pain away while he started to thrust slowly into you. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you over and over again until you begged him to speed up the pace, letting the sting of pain become one of pleasure every time Calum moved his hips into you, hitting every spot with ease.

You became one big pile of tangled limbs and shared pleasure, moaning and groaning your feelings of ecstasy as you held each other as close as you could. One hand caressing your sides while you alternated between playing with his hair and dragging your fingers down his back, feeling every muscle work as you wrapped your legs around him, letting him deeper and deeper each time.

You got drunk with the sound of each other’s moans as you reached your climax. Calum swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound than his name falling from your lips in total bliss as you clenched around his cock, making his thrusts slow down as he came with the taste of your name still on his lips.

"I love you," He said with a smile as wide as the sky, pulling you closer against his naked body "God, how I love you, my rose"

You kissed his lips softly, humming an "I love you" in between a content smile before saying:

"Calum?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Thank you for loving me"

You woke up sometime later, still wrapped around his arms as his jacket covered you both from the cold night. You let out a breath of relief as you realized that the moon was still high up in the sky, meaning that you still had a few hours before having to go back to the castle.

Calum slept peacefully next to you, holding you close as he let his chin rest above your head. You kissed his Adam's apple and softly giggled when he pulled you closer to his chest, you knew that you would always be safely wrapped around his arms and there was no other place you’d rather stay than with him.

It was almost incredible to believe that by tomorrow night you’d finally become husband and wife and that this will be your life forevermore.

No more castles, no more parties, no more dangers nor royalty duties. You will be together, finally be free.

.

.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ashley @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @lemonswizzle

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[adorehs]

changing your tune

Hi I just wanted to mention that a lot of this might be inaccurate. This is based off of my time in my city's youth orchestra so while I’m sure some things transfer, but not everything. Kinda bad at the end per usual <3

Summary: Classical Musician!Y/N has created a simple life for herself consisting of herself, her music, and the boy she loves. Friends to lovers. (15.6k words)

Warnings: mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut, minor character death. 

“I just think I need to have a fuller tone to really get the dark undertone of the music. Like, it’s so clearly meant to be this dark, horrible travesty but if I can’t get the tone right then it’s just this light and airy travesty. But I can’t bend the note just right, my air is, like, gone,” you vent out. 

Harry watches you intently from where he sat in your study with a hand holding his chin up and an elbow on his knee, “I think it sounds great.”

You look at him unimpressed, “It’s all chalumeau. Of course it sounds good, it just doesn't sound right.” 

“Right, so it’s in the lower register,” he mentally reminds himself, “What’s it supposed to sound like?” 

You let out a sigh and pick up your clarinet from the stand it rested on, “It sounds kind of different without my custom, but the r13 will work for now,” you mumble, adjusting the reed and ligature on your mouthpiece, a nervous tick you picked up in school. 

Your eyes flicker up to Harry, waiting for his glance of approval before you start. Your cheeks expertly swell and decompress in size as you circular breathe through the measures, your mind concentrated on the smooth transitions between rhythms and the registers, cutting the triplets short as you’ve written them. 

The soothing noise of your clarinet fills the large room immediately, your forte becoming all too loud to process any thoughts. The victorian-styled room had low hanging lights that streamed a warm orange tone over the patterned chairs and built-in bookcase that held hundreds of music books with etudes you’ve mastered since your youth. 

Though the warm tones made the room feel homely, the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened ajar allowing a short breeze to flow in every two minutes. You knew better then to turn on a fan around your hand-crafted instrument. You understood the fluctuation it would cause if the temperature changed drastically day by day. This is why you were careful to turn the air conditioning off before you opened the window, keeping the temperature relatively steady through the day. 

Harry watched you in pure concentration- he was truly enamoured by the way you lost yourself in music. He wanted to understand what you were saying but it was hard- he enjoyed music but was completely deaf when it came to describing the mood of a piece. 

He worked with numbers, and loved it. A born accountant in your presence, watching you play your clarinet with what seems to be ease. But you seemed so distant from him. A whole world away. And how was he going to sweep you off your feet when he can hardly understand your career? 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as the technique became more difficult, effectively making you let off your clarinet and huff a breath of disapproval. Your heart was clearly pounding after the page you played at full tempo for effect, but you tried not to show the effect the music had on your body. 

You reached for your pencil before erasing a note you had written and writing another one in, a higher register G#. The graphite smeared on the yellow-tinted manuscript book that sat on the music stand before you, everything shaking lightly as vigorously colored in the line and drew in a staccato articulation above the sixteenth note. 

Forgetting Harry’s presence, you picked up your clarinet once again and played the same measure in sets of five, increasing the tempo by four beats each time, before deciding it is satisfactory for now. 

Your face only showed a slight upturn, as you wrote in a new measure, testing how the chord would resolve with some soft air and incomplete vibrations through the wooden block. Minor chord or major? you asked yourself.

Harry’s eyes watched yours as they darted across the room from your clarinet, to your manuscript, to your metronome, which was silently flashing a red light at a tempo of 180 and a subdivision of eighth notes. 

He wondered who taught you so harshly- he’d never seen someone so critical of their own work. You liked to make everything very perfect in a meticulous way- you knew just when to linger on the seventh of a chord to leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of one;s stomach and you were stellar when it came to expressing a story and emotion through your music. At least that’s what Harry thought. 

“So where does your tone need to get fuller?” he asks again.

You looked up at him, slightly shocked. You had forgotten he was there, “When I get higher, like, near the F#. It has no depth to the note and it sounds like a playground piece,” you explain softly, watching as his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“So you want it to sound darker when the octave goes up?” he confirms one more time.

You nod, “Yeah. Want it to sound more emotional and thoughtful. It also makes me sound like a stylistically competent player,” your eyes flicker back to the page in an instant. 

“I think your style is good. You have a good variety in the symphony, too. They’ll like this one. Get the solo down and then ask some people to come and play with you,” Harry comments, rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants as he sits back further in the chair. The heavy fabric makes a dissatisfying pulling noise as Harry moves around in the chair, resting his hands on the dark wooden arms with ornate carvings on the ends. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “They haven’t taken my last three. If I can just make one good one, I can take some more risks and possibly compose a whole symphony,” you pause, making eye contact with Harry again, “But that’ll take years. Probably only when I retire from the orchestra.”

“They are good,” Harry argues weakly. He doesn’t know how to convince you because all he knows is that he likes it. 

“Well clearly they’re not as good as you and I think,” you counter with a huff, picking up your clarinet once more before playing the same piece from the beginning. 

//

After an overextended work week, Harry was excited to go out and have some fun with his friends. He was still a ripe twenty-six year old, working long and hard hours as a starting budget analyst, hoping to be promoted higher within the job and lighten his workload- at least that's what everyone promised will happen. Nevertheless, he still enjoyed the simple pleasures of going out and celebrating his friends. 

It was an all too familiar setting- a sticky, trashed bar with little to no care given to the seats that were falling apart at the seams. He found himself thinking of the frat parties you had described to him when he asked what Greek Life was. 

But, he was there to celebrate one of his colleagues' birthdays. It was her twenty-fifth, so he found himself understanding the want for a big party. The bar might have been trashed but it was large and suitable for the hundreds of people she seemed to invite.

And among the hundreds, he only viewed one. You. 

You wore a dress that you pulled from the back of your closet and hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in college. You wore it to special events and networking parties, but you found it all too nice to wear to most other situations you found yourself in.

Harry had definitely forgotten your connection to his colleague, or better known as your sister. He watched as you greeted her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, an awkward side hug was exchanged as everyone around you both cheered in excitement. You were pretty loved. 

“Happy birthday Mon,” you repeat for the second time that day, “Hope the year treats you well.” 

Your sister smiled in response, “Off to a great start,” she eyes the party reviving behind you, “I’m glad you could make it. Thought you’d have a performance tonight.”

You shook your head, “Nope. Requested this day off a year ago. Couldn’t miss my favorite day of the year!”

Your sister glances at you with a look of amusement, “Happy Monica day is your favorite of the year?”

“Yup, love happy Monica day,” you reiterate. 

Monica opened her mouth to reply but was swiftly cut off by a deep British accent, “Happy birthday Mon!” you hear from behind you.

You turn around quickly, side stepping to allow Harry into your conversation. He leans into your sister before granting her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “How are you?” he asks, replacing your spot in front of her. 

You smile at Monica and halfheartedly wave a goodbye as you slowly make your way over to the bar to order some food. You decided a year ago that you were going to stop drinking. At first, it was a hard choice to make. You were used to having a drink in most social situations, especially being a young adult working with people of all ages. It was a common scene to find you in- an after party with hundreds of musicians having a glass of champagne or white wine in celebration. 

You sat yourself on a deep crimson stool, swirling slightly as you waited for your sliders to be given to you. Watching as people met and reconnected was isolating for you. You knew very few people Monica worked with and found yourself just shy of saying hi to someone who looked friendly every time you were at a gathering such as this one. 

Nodding a silent thank you as your sliders were placed in front of you, your attention shifts. It was the loud talking and blaring music that made your brain want to go into overdrive, never quite getting used to noises you couldn’t control. 

“Hi, Y/N,” you feel a body slide into the seat beside you. You couldn’t exactly pin whose voice it was at first listen so you shift your body towards them and slide the plate between you two as a peace offering. 

“Hey,” you reply, making eye contact with one of Monica’s friends you met when she first started working at the firm. 

“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’m alright, Louis. And yourself?” 

“I’m quite alright. Been working a lot. Itching to get promoted,” he lets out a small laugh, “But who isn’t.”

You shoot him a grin, “Not sure, I love my job.”

“When’re you playing next? Love to come see you play. Haven't been to the new show yet,” he leans in towards you and takes a slider before leaning back again. 

“Play Thursday to Sunday every week until November. Then we switch to Christmas ballets,” you tell him with a grin, “I recommend Thursday or Sunday, though. Best prices and best crowd.”

He nods in confirmation, “I’ll have to take Harry with me, know he’s been bugging me to go with him for a while.”

“Yeah, bring him! It’ll be fun, we can all go out after too!” you counter, dismissing Louis' comment about Harry’s insistent nature. That was just him, you thought. 

“Definitely,” he agrees, “Plus it’s a nice way to unwind. I’ll definitely see if I can come soon.”

“Oh, please! I love seeing a familiar face. Feel like I play better,” you laugh, “Still get nervous, but Harry always tells me I’ll do amazing.”

“Harry’s good at that,” Louis agrees, “Always makes sure you don’t undersell yourself. And he’s right! You’re amazing.” 

You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, “Thank you! He’s definitely everyone's biggest cheerleader,” you joke. Turning around entirely in your stool, your eyes sift quickly through the crowd in search of Harry. “See, there he is,” you chortle, “Hyping up Niall as he chugs a,” you squint.  

“A beer, probably,” Louis completes for you. 

You both laugh and watch as Niall shoots up from his spot on the ground in victory before immediately falling back onto the ground with great dramatics. The room roars as Harry helps his friend stand back up and walks him over to the bathroom before swinging the door back open, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pauses for effect, “The boy lives!” 

The room once again falls into a unison form of laughter as Niall appears behind Harry moments later, “Where’s the beer?” he shouts over the laughs, which quickly turn into cheers at his sportsmanship. 

While Louis lets out a loud laugh at his friend's antics and moves towards the crowd to see more clearly, you looked up towards Harry. He dressed himself impressively well considering his lack of knowledge in the arts. Though he wore a simple outfit consisting of a red button up and black jeans, his confidence soared higher than anyone else’s you’d seen in a while. 

His smile was infectious and seemed to fill his whole face and as his eyes raised to meet yours it grew to a tenfold. Speaking with his body language, you somehow sensed that he wanted you to get up and join him. 

You shook your head with a smile and mouthed ‘I’m fine here!’ only to receive a ‘What!?’ in response. You shook your head in defeat and stood up, mouthing the same phrase only slower. 

Harry replied with a look of realization and instantaneously, a pout replaced his smile. You frowned at your effect on him, not wanting him to feel upset because of you of all people. 

You stood up and slowly started making your way over to him, allowing the smile to rediscover its place on his lips. He was watching you near him, when his head suddenly snapped towards a high pitched scream coming from your sister, “It’s midnight!” she shouts. 

Harry chuckles at her dramatics and smiles when he feels your body press up against his side. He didn’t have to look to know it was you, he could smell your distinct perfume as you neared him and he was happy knowing you found comfort around him- though that should’ve been clear from the nights upon nights you spend together, him listening to your music and you listening to his rants. 

Monica was handed a bottle of champagne and she stepped into the middle of the corner you all occupied, people filing in suit around her and forming a circular crowd. 

“Hey everyone! Uh- thank you so much for coming- I mean it. It means a lot to me to be surrounded by a bunch of people I love on my favorite day of the year!” She jokes, earning some light laughs and a few words of endearment thrown back at her. “No, seriously, thanks a lot, and,” she trails off, her thoughts too blurry for her planned speech, “Here’s to twenty five!” she cheers, shaking the champagne bottle, allowing it to pop and spray all over. She quickly spins in an attempt to spray everyone, but the champagne bubbles over and only gets half the group. 

You and Harry both laugh, shaking your hands to get the sticky substance off your bodies. “She tries every year and never succeeds,” you tell him.

He chuckles in response, “She gets too drunk to remember.” 

“Or she just thinks that she’s sober enough to get it this year,” you laugh back. 

Harry laughs and nods, “Definitely. She thinks she’s perfectly fine,” he points at Monica who is going around the circle and hugging everyone in thanks. “To be fair she looks okay,” he adds. 

“She always does,” you agree with Harry.

The two of you fall silent and you stand back watching your sister make rounds. Harry’s hand creeps onto your back as he steps closer to you, bringing you in front of him. He hums along to the song you couldn’t remember the name of that was blaring on the speakers and he basks in the glory of being in your presence. 

Soon enough, your sister had made her way over to the two of you, hugging you both and exchanging her thanks for coming and just as quick as she came, she left you two alone. 

“So, uh,” Harry starts.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna leave. Got an early start tomorrow,” you tell Harry, pointing at the door. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely. Yeah, you should go,” he stammers.

You smile at him, “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later?” you asked, stepping towards Monica to say a final happy birthday and goodnight. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he nods in confirmation. 

You wave before finding your sister and saying goodnight, then driving yourself back home. 

//

Harry was sitting in bed with his laptop on his lap and a blanket covering his legs. He was doing some research in an attempt to find books that could teach him about music theory. 

He told himself he wanted to be more involved in his friends' lives and further his education in one of his weakest subjects- music. But in reality, it was clear to those around him that he wanted to impress you and be more involved in your life and yours only. They had never seen him pick up a book on physical therapy or take a quick online course on python- he was doing it all purely for you. 

He was contemplating if he should invest in a book or just take a free online course, both seemed like viable options but he wanted to optimize his time. He wanted to make it click faster. 

He decided he’d try the online course and take his chances and if he still didn’t understand he would invest in a book. 

So there he was on a Tuesday evening sitting in bed with his headphones in learning how basic chords were made. He wrote notes as if he was still in school and studied them after each lesson. He wasn’t fully immersed in the world like you were, but he felt as though he could carry a bit more of a conversation with you about music, especially when compared to before. 

Harry was learning slowly but surely and in about a week he could, in theory, explain how to develop a minor chord from it’s major among various other basics (that you would probably think were common knowledge) but he had no recollection of learning. 

As per usual, he spent every Monday and Wednesday evening with you. On Mondays, you would have movie night and on Wednesdays, he would get some work done in your office while you played. It never truly distracted him, either. Honestly, it made him feel very peaceful and he found that the routine was more about being in the presence of each other rather than making memories. 

One Wednesday, he had completed his work early and as usual, he would sit and see what you had composed to help give his limited input on your compositions. 

Typically, he would sit and listen silently with a slight tilt to his head while he thought up a thoughtful comment about your playing. You would always sit there anxiously, with your posture beginning to slouch since you were not playing anymore, waiting for a comment that you both knew would be neither helpful or negative. 

Harry was good at that. He was good at making you feel like you were doing good with absolute sincerity and not a single waiver of his voice. His face would stay straight and he would find the good in it all. It was probably your favorite part of the man who sat with you on the particular day. 

This time, unlike the last, your window was shut tight and you were trying your hardest to keep your hands steady. You couldn’t make the piece sound right. It sounded okay but that would not get you signed. It needed to be calculated and perfect in a theoretical standpoint. It also needed to be simple enough to split into parts for larger groups but difficult enough to have solo excerpts from each instrument- in case a full orchestra didn’t work. 

And that was difficult to accomplish. 

Harry knew that and he agreed- how could one person who hadn’t ever been signed make such an elaborate piece? He thought it was absolutely absurd that to maximize your chances you had to make the piece a combination of just about everything. 

You sat with the same face as you usually did, one pleading for some sort of advice or criticism. What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to deliver. 

“Think if you made it a minor chord instead of a major and ended on the seventh it could bring some edge,” Harry eventually says. 

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion, “Yeah, uh, let me try that,” you stammered. 

You covered what you had written with a sticky note, drawing on the new scale. You showed Harry the note and asked him if that was what he was thinking, to which he replied yes. You nod lightly and play the piece once again from the beginning, swaying slightly as you approached lyrical bits and narrowed your air stream to control your volume. 

Harry nods along with your playing, pausing slightly in places he could tell you didn’t like much. Eventually, he watches as you play what he had suggested, anxiety rising up his throat in fear of not being accepted. 

“Think I like it. But I need to fix some of the other stuff too,” you told him once you finished. “It would definitely feel right that way.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He rounded the long desk and joined you where you sat by the window in an uncomfortable chair made to help keep your posture near perfect. He crouched down so he could be eye level with your music and furrowed his brows.

You watched as he read the notes carefully, taking his time as he took in each technically challenging measure and the lyrically soft measures in contrast. You grew anxious for his approval so you busied yourself by taking the sticky note off of the manuscript and erasing and redrawing the notes for the new scale Harry advised you to add.

You took your time, slowly coloring each eighth note, the graphite crumbling down the page, leaving a light smear as you wiped it away with the side of your hand.

Harry looked up at you, “I think you should change this,” he points, “Make it flat and get rid of this note entirely,” he spoke slowly. You watch as his finger indicates each note and you nod along softly.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you agree.

He nods in response and rests his hand on your thigh, you hardly notice the action that felt natural in the moment.

You temporarily wrote in each suggestion and played the piece again from the beginning, a process the two of you were becoming increasingly annoyed with. As you approached the measure he had pointed out, your mind wondered: how did he know all this and why didn’t he mention any of it before?

Your air slowed down as your mind wandered and your fingers followed closely after, a ritardando, Harry noted. He hadn’t mentioned tempo but he found that bringing the piece down to cut time brought a new feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Abruptly, you stopped, and Harry knew you didn’t realize. You both sat in silence for a moment before Harry stood up and moved back over to where he was sitting previously. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head out. Good luck Y/N,” he rushed out. 

You shook your head in disbelief. You truly didn’t understand what just happened. But, you shook it off and tried again, keeping the ritardando. 

Harry on the other hand, was in a state of panic. He had realized what he had done and he thought she did too, resulting in her abrupt stopping point. 

Harry had begun to understand that he was in love with you. And he didn’t know until just then. But he had done everything just for you. 

//

The following Sunday Harry finally managed to drag Louis out of his city apartment and downtown to the Meyerson Symphony Center where you were to perform Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Neither Harry or Louis have seen you perform this particular show so they were late to learn that you had auditioned for and successfully got the clarinet solo in a particular piece from the Symphony named Scherzo.

You had explained to Harry your appeal to this particular symphony- you found it to be unique of all the others that accompanied Shakespeare's work. Instead of relaying a difficult emotion or putting a satirical spin on a human issue like his other works did, you found Midsummer to be a pure romp into romance and the abnormalities of love. 

And though you hadn’t been in love for a while, you found yourself feeling the emotion wholly through both the piece and music in it of itself. 

Harry had read midsummer before- in fact he had seen it live with his mum and sister when he was younger, but he never understood the effect the music had on the play. He never looked into the contextualization of the play, let alone the deeper aspirations of it. 

He understood music theory but he still had trouble analyzing music itself. He couldn’t pinpoint moods by just listening- he needed to see it written out which he believed hindered his ability to enjoy music to its fullest extent.

Needless to say, Harry entered the theater with Louis with a thought of determination. All he wanted was to find a way to understand the music and appreciate it as you did. They were both clad in matching suits, a simple black and white for the symphony, and made their way to the middle where their tickets directed them. Harry sat in the aisle and Louis sat right next to him, whispering in excitement of the show. 

“I fucking love this story,” Louis says.

Harry lets out a quiet laugh, “I hardly remember it.” 

Louis joins Harry in laughter and shrugs, “Oh well, it’ll still be good.”

Harry nods in agreement and turns away from Louis as the curtains open and the lights dim.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen you on this stage, but he found himself mesmerized as he found you with his eyes. He watched as you scanned the crowd quickly, your eyes jumping past him and Louis a few times before you recognized your friends. You shot them each a relieved smile and sat up straighter in your chair. 

The conductor cast a smile at everyone before beginning the first piece, the Overture making its debut in the room. Just as Harry was used to, the melodic sounds filled the room to the brim, every last corner feeling the pure emotion that was put into the piece. 

Harry couldn’t describe the feeling but he knew he was proud. He understood that watching you in your element is probably the worst thing he could do for himself, but he had to. It was pure torture to watch you fall in love with something that wasn’t him, but he loved the way it happened.

You lost yourself so easily and he felt as though you were the loudest in the room. He could hear your sound over everyone else's, your instrument being isolated from all the others in his mind. Harry could swear he had never been so proud in his life to see someone do what they love. 

As the overture came to a close, his hands met in applause and he felt the need to stand up just so you would know how much he loved it. But as quickly as he started, he stopped his applause and the next piece was beginning. 

No. 1 Scherzo. It was the second piece on the track and your personal favorite for reasons you would not disclose to Harry. He had heard you practice it a few times before, nodding along as he recognized fragments of the piece. 

It was around three minutes into the piece when Harry learned why it was your favorite. Because it was just you. You were the only one playing- your solo bringing tears to his eyes. It was just that moment when you looked up and made eye contact with Harry, him nodding with a large grin on his face with reassurance, you’re doing amazing, it read. 

When you looked back up at your music, your eyes narrowing in concentration, you failed to notice the look on Harry’s face. His phone had buzzed and he found himself confused- he was sure he put it on silent. The feeling that was elicited was nothing but good, so he decided to go check just for some peace of mind.

He stood up, pointing at his phone when Louis questioned him silently, gaining a nod of approval as Harry exited the theater in a rush. 

The second he exited the room that was beginning to become overly stuffy and constricting, he took a deep breath and told himself you’re probably just overreacting. 

Harry was anywhere from overreacting. It was that exact moment that he had received a text that was pushed through do not disturb. The text was from his mum and read nothing but horrible news. The five words that found themselves on his screen that illuminated his face as he stood right next to the door called him a coward. They read: This contact has dialed 999.

Harry understood the severity of the situation but he didn’t know what to do. All he knew is that she called- he didn’t know why or where she was. He didn’t know if he had to book a flight back home or not. 

Just as Harry was getting up and leaving for his own agenda, you had finished your solo. You looked up once again, hearing the applause and searching for Harry once more. But this time, you found Louis sat alone with a large grin creeping across his face and his applause filling the space next to him. 

You had never felt as hurt as you did in that moment. He had left you. Harry, the man you now realized you love, found something more important than you and your aspirations, and there was no physical way that it wouldn’t sting. What you didn’t know was that as your heart was breaking, Harry’s mum’s was. 

//

It had taken two hours for someone to answer the phone. Two hours for Harry to spend most of his savings on a red eye to the London airport. Ten hours for him to touch down in London. Three to make his way to the hospital next to his childhood home. 

He was distraught to say the least. 

He had left without mention of what was happening, his phone exploding with texts from Louis and Monica making sure he was okay, but not a word from you. He felt betrayed, but he understood. You had things going on too and he wasn’t the center of your universe. 

The hospital looked sterile, not a single thing out of place. The walls were coated in a pristine white color that nearly blinded Harry’s bloodshot eyes, and he spent a few minutes catching his breath before he asked where his dad was. 

He walked sluggishly onto the elevator, the weight of reality crushing him as he waited for what seemed like ages but really was hardly forty seconds for the elevator to jolt to a stop. When it stepped off, he saw what he imagined to be organized chaos.

People were walking quickly up and down the lengths of the corridor and he found himself passing by far too many crying people to think anything good could ever happen in a hospital- not revival nor birth. 

He walked the length of the corridor in silence, taking in his surroundings. He was in shock- he could hardly even process that he was in England, let alone why he was there. It was only when he stopped shortly at the sight of his mum and sister sleeping, their heads resting on each other's, that he realized the severity of what was happening. 

And so, with a deep breath, he sat down on the floor before them, resting his back lightly against the leg chairs and he rested his forehead on his knees. It didn’t seem like his life that he was living- he felt like this was all a vivid dream, but it wasn’t. It was less than twenty four hours ago that he was with Louis watching your performance and now he sat with his family outside of his father's hospital room praying he would be okay. 

Harry was one of hopeful thinking and that was made apparent when a doctor exited his father's room with a stack of papers.

Harry was the first to stand, followed by his mother and sister, who were unsure of when he had arrived. He shook hands with the doctor, who he learned was named doctor Wilson. He was clad in the same scrubs as every other doctor but Harry found his to be a special type of unattractive- or maybe that was his subconscious distracting himself from the situation at hand. 

Doctor Wilson cleared his throat as Anne made her way next to Harry, Gemma shielding herself from the news from behind him, “So,” he cleared his throat “Mr. Styles came in about a year ago to have his lungs screened, as you may know, and he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer,” he nodded. 

“Well, Mr. Styles seems to have,” he left a pregnant pause in his sentence, “He seems to have the cancer cells spreading rapidly. We would like to put him on a self contained respirator and monitor him closely to give you some more accurate information about his cancer and give you some answers within a few hours,” he says slowly. 

Harry shook his head in disbelief- his father had never mentioned cancer let alone a screening. 

“Thank you doctor,” he heard Anne speak from behind him. He sent a last glance at the broken family and moved back into the room. 

//

It was the first you had heard from him in about half a week. He had called you on Wednesday after not answering your messages asking if he will make his way over on Monday for your movie night. 

“Hi,” you answer softly. 

“Hey- uh,” you heard some shuffling, “Hey.”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion, “Are you coming over?” 

There was a long pause on Harry’s end and you just about opened your mouth to confirm that he could hear you when he replied, “No,” he said shortly. “I- uh- I’m at home.”

“Do you want me to come over?” you asked in confusion.

“No, like, I’m in the UK,” he quickly corrected you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, leaving a pregnant pause on your end, “Oh,” you replied. 

“Yeah, I-” you could hear a few other voices in the background and you imagined they were his mum and sister, “My dad- he’s not doing so good. He has stage four lung cancer.”

“Oh,” you let out again. “I- uh- sorry, I really just don’t know what to say right now.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle, which you could tell had bitter undertones, “That’s alright… don’t exactly know what to say myself.”

“I- uh- I’m really sorry,” you tell him sincerely, “God I feel like such an ass,” you expressed. 

Harry’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked up at his mum to ensure she wasn’t listening, “No need, I promise it’s fine you don’t have to say anything.”

“I just- I was so mad at you for leaving and not saying anything and ignoring me. Thought I did something wrong or you were mad at me,” you explain. “Didn’t know what was going on and I was scared that I lost you.”

“Couldn’t lose me if you tried,” Harry laughed softly, you joining his laughter momentarily. 

“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you I was going?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

“No- not at all. Was mainly just worried,” you reassure him, “I totally understand,” but you didn’t. How could he not tell you? Did he not think you deserved to know why he left when you were playing for him?

“I’m really sorry. Kinda just fell off the face of the Earth for a few days. Was anticipating the news and trying to stay strong for my mum and Gemma,” he explains. 

Before you could reply, Harry starts again, “Hey, uh, we’re going back to the hospital so I’ll talk to you later, alright?” he says quickly before hanging up and leaving you alone in your study, clarinet in front of you. 

You truly didn’t know how to cope with what just happened- it felt like heartbreak on two spectrums- family and lover. But he was neither, which hurt even more. 

You picked up the piece of handcrafted wood that sat in front of you and tried your hardest to pour your heartbreak into the piece- adding pain, edge, and suffering to the nearly- done piece in an attempt to exert your feelings into something productive. 

It worked like a charm, which was something you felt bad mentioning. You found yourself falling in love with the piece, fractures of your heart making up every line and the composition falling right into place as your muse fell right apart across the world.

It was the next morning when you received the message from Harry: He’s gone. In his sleep. I’ll be home in a week. Gotta sort some things out. -H

//

Harry arrived home that following Tuesday and he was exhausted but grateful to be back to his tiny townhouse in the middle of a city with his friends surrounding him. 

He felt as though coping wasn’t an option anymore- he had taken up a whole week for that and in this moment in time he felt as though he had already done enough coping. 

There was a memorial service the weekend after his father died and to say Harry’s family were crushed would be an understatement. 

Anne, Gemma, and Harry each had prepared a speech for the service and none of them felt as though they could do the senior Styles any justice. He was a good man and they couldn’t even begin to explain that to everyone there. Nobody could understand the pain in the same way as they did, so they did their best to remember him in the best light. 

Harry was mainly happy for one thing- the following day was Wednesday. He had taken off the rest of the week so he could recover from any jet lag and start the new week back with a fresh start, so he knew that tomorrow would be a great day to catch up. With work and with you.

He hadn’t seen a single person since he was back but upholding the tradition was important to him. He favored you over most all his friends anyway, so when he parked his old car in the driveway of the large house you inherited from your grandparents, he was excited. 

He knocked twice and rang your doorbell once,queuing you to open the door in shock less than a minute after. “What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling Harry into a long hug. You had missed him on his ten days of abstinence from you. 

“Got back yesterday, can’t skip out on tradition,” he shoots you a smile, letting go of your warm embrace. You took a moment to look at him before deciding he wanted a distraction from everything going on in his life. 

You open the door further, beckoning him to come in, “Well come on, I need your opinion on my piece,” you gesture towards your office dramatically. 

Harry chuckles and bows in thanks, “After you,” he says with a posh accent. 

You both laugh, heading inside to where your things were set up and ready to go. He sat down in the same chair as he always does and you round the desk to sit where your clarinet was standing and your manuscript laid. 

“Okay, so I added, kind of a lot, while you were gone,” you warm him. 

He nodded and gestured for you to play, “Well go on then. Show me what you added,” he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. 

You glanced at Harry and your music a few times each in an attempt to correlate the two in your mind- this was your Harry and he would never hurt you. You began to play the piece that you had become sickly familiar with but Harry found himself utterly perplexed at the sound of a new beginning. You had nearly changed the entire beginning and Harry loved it.

He found it to be oddly comforting to listen to you for what felt like the first time ever but in reality it was just another sense of stability in the world you two had created- the world that was exclusively Harry and Y/N. 

The moment you reached the end, a bit he had helped you with, you found yourself stumbling over your composition, making Harry's brow furrow together. You were a perfectionist when it came to music- you loved the control that came with being able to play flawlessly and change how it all came together and he found it odd that you of all people were messing up something you had written in for weeks. 

“Sorry,” you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair, “I’m really stressed and it’s really making this all worse.”

Harry nodded in understanding, “You should take a break,” he tells you with full seriousness. 

You look at him with a blank face for a moment before bursting out into laughter, “You can’t be serious.”

Harry looked at you confused, “I’m serious.”

“Harry this is my job. This is equivalent to me getting a promotion. I can’t stop!” you explain harshly.

Harry nodded, “I understand. Just-” he paused, “Just come with me, okay?” 

“No, Harry, I can't, I have to do this,” you stood your ground. 

“Y/N,” he spoke firmly, “If you hate this and want to kick me out for a week and let you compose on your own after this, you can. Just come.”

You let out a sigh and deliberated your options, “Fine. But there is a high chance you’re not showing up at my door for a week,” you point an accusatory finger at Harry.

He raises his hands in defense, “Okay, noted. Let’s go slowpoke,” he teased. 

You flashed him your middle finger and a toothy grin before packing up your clarinet and setting it on your desk. You follow Harry out to his car and get in the passenger seat as he starts the car and makes his way out of your neighborhood. 

“Can I ask where we are going?” 

“Patience is a virtue,” Harry replied, making you roll your eyes dramatically. 

“You’re so annoying,” you reply. 

“You love me,” he states smugly, making your eyes grow the size of saucers. 

“Not right now I don’t” you tease once you recover from your previous state of shock. 

Harry shakes his head and says, “Home Depot. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

You wondered why he could be taking you to Home Depot of all places- not getting food or going shopping to find another piece of clothing you don’t need. 

Harry parked easily before exiting the car, you follow after him in a haste. You have to job to catch up with Harry who seems to be walking a mile a minute to get into the building, “What the fuck are we doing here?” you ask again. 

“We,” Harry says, pointing at the two of you, “Are going to paint that white wall in your office,” he says with a smile.

Your face mirrors his, a grin of your own making its way across your face. You had mentioned to Harry months ago that you were itching to paint the room but you never made the time for yourself to do that. 

This time, it was you who took the lead, teasing Harry for taking too long to make his way into the store. You find your way to the back of the store where you see a few employees mixing paint for customers and you find your way to the pantone swatches, Harry immediately picking up a brown one, “I think it’ll match the wood, no?” 

You laugh and shake your head, “No I want it to be your hair color.”

Harry’s mouth opens in realization before grabbing another strip. He squints, reading the name aloud, “Werge,” he says confused. 

You fall into a fit of laughter before moving down the wall to look at the blues, the color you were actually hoping to get. 

With Harry’s unwillingness to be serious and your contagious laughs, it took you forty five minutes to find the color you had seen online a few months ago and had screenshotted on your phone. 

You make your way over to an employee and ask for a gallon of the deep navy color, paying and making your way back into Harry’s car within a few minutes. 

Your knee was bouncing in anticipation on your way home and you didn’t realize until Harry rested his palm on it, asking you, “What’s got you so nervous?” to which you reply:

“Not nervous, just excited.”

Harry chuckled and kept his hand there for the rest of the ride to your house, which you found to be far too close then you wanted it to be. 

You both found yourselves in your garage loading your arms with painters tape and tarp to ensure your room is painted to perfection and not too messy afterwards. 

You spilled some paint into the tray and used a roller to begin putting the fresh paint on the middle of the wall. Harry gasps when he sees the color in contrast with the wood that covered every other wall in the room, “It matches so well,” he comments, using a smaller brush to begin on the bottom strip of the wall where the painters tape stuck.

He sat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him, and you stood a few feet to his left, the paint sitting between the two of you. 

You nod, “I know, it compliments the wood really well.”

Harry shakes his head, “Not the wood. I meant it matches my eyes,” he draws out. 

You roll your eyes and let out a shut up before looking at him. 

“Seriously,” he persists, setting his head next to the gallon that sat on the floor. 

You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, dipping your roller back onto the tray, allowing the residue to fall off before you rolled a bit on his face and shirt. 

“What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up immediately. 

“I had to check!” you exclaim innocently. “You know, now that I look, I think you’re right. It does match, we should use more,” you conclude. 

“Now that I look,” Harry starts, with an evil glint in his eye, “I think this is the color your shirt is missing,” he concludes, flinging his brush in your direction allowing the paint to fall on your face and shirt. 

“Oh my god!” you shout as Harry doubles over in laughter.

You bring your brush into the paint once more, taking a threatening step towards Harry. He flinches, making you chuckle and redirect the paint onto the wall again, making him breathe a sigh of relief. 

He begins again on the bottom edge and before you could think you're safe, Harry gets paint on your ankle from where he sat on the floor. 

You let out a loud gasp, “This is war!” you exclaim. 

“Or you can just admit that you needed a break,” Harry shrugs, “It’s quite simple.”

You narrow your eyes and look at him, “I am going to cover you in paint. It’s quite simple,” you mock him childishly. 

He shakes his head with a laugh before painting the rest of your ankle, making a ring around your foot. 

It had taken two hours to complete painting the wall and to complete your paint war. You and Harry found yourselves in your backyard while your sprinklers were spraying the grass. 

“Best way to clean,” Harry breathed out. 

“You say you’re one with nature but what are you going to say when my grass is blue?” you ask him as you scrub at your legs to get off the paint. 

“I’ll say part of me is really with nature this time,” he says shaking the water out of his hair as he walks towards the hose that was attached to the side of your house. 

You shake your head in disbelief, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say, looking at Harry as he walks towards you with the hose gushing water out. 

You step towards him and let him spray you down and you watch as the paint falls off your skin and into the grass, your shirt clinging to your body. 

Harry tries to keep his attention on your face and not on the black bra that begins to show from your wet shirt that stuck to your body like a second skin. 

You fiddled with the fit of your shirt, trying to make sure you were comfortable, before scrubbing your arms and legs clean. 

Harry and you had decided after the first hit that you would do your best to avoid each other's faces just to make everything easier when it came to cleaning. 

You rinse your hair fully before deciding you're as clean as you’d get without using a proper shower (which you didn’t want to turn blue from the paint), so you stepped towards Harry with your arm extended towards him. 

“My turn,” Harry says softly, handing you the hose before spreading his arms out and letting the water hit his entire body, “This feels nice,” he comments. 

“You’re crazy,” you reply. Harry shakes his head and takes his shirt off in an attempt to get everything off and you almost look away instinctively- you weren’t supposed to see your friend like this. 

He allows the pressure of the hose to get most of the paint off his body but he seems a bit carefree about the cleanliness of his body at this point- you’re assuming this is the distraction you both needed from your mundane lives. 

Harry finishes off with the hose and you run inside to grab the two of you towels, opting to stay outside for the rest of the night. 

You both sit outside on the back porch swing that sat in your yard, wrapped in towels so you don’t get too cold in the autumn air. “You were right,” you mutter, leaning your head onto his shoulder. 

“About?” Harry edges you on and you can practically hear him smiling through his words. 

“I needed a break.”

//

What felt like a year was only two months and in those two months you had accomplished what you had been attempting since eighteen. You finished what seemed to be the perfect piece from a technical standpoint. 

It told a story of betrayal and heartbreak and it included a plethora of twists in tone and changes in tempo and unresolved keys to add edge and lead the listener on. The piece, in theory, was among the most perfect ones written. 

At least that's what Harry told you and that's what you tried to tell yourself. 

You had just finished the process of getting it all recorded, recruiting some of your friends from the orchestra to take home your manuscript that you wrote in harmonies and new melodies to. 

You spent a week editing the music together, sending recordings back, asking for retakes, and adjusting volumes, tempos, and tone before you were satisfied with the music. 

All in all, it was a musically complex and fundamentally difficult piece that could be extended into a show or turned into a series of simpler solos- whatever would get your music sold to a publisher, you were willing to do. 

You had contacts from your previous attempts at selling your compositions, contacts that rejected you but told you to come back if you had something new. You did not take the suggestion lightly. 

You had mastered an email with your pitch- stating your name and your credentials, attaching a file of the piece, along with the score which separated individual parts and showed their dynamic together. It was your life's work and a story you were excited to sell, and that is why you were particularly excited when you received an email back the following week.

The email, in short, explained that a publisher would like to meet with you and is interested in helping you publish the music and help you get on the radar of a symphonic orchestra. 

You were a giddy mess leading up to your meeting, your leg shaking in anticipation and your heart beating so loud you swear you could feel it in your throat. So, when it arrived it felt surreal. 

You stepped into the tall building in a haze, your hands clutching onto your score and your body clad in your favorite orchestral dress that you find to be the one you wear to the majority of your auditions. You call it your good luck charm. 

The receptionist was short and directed you to the fifth floor and gave you strict instructions to wait to be called in by Flynn Bradford’s assistant. You sat in the waiting room with a warm overcoat covering your body in the meantime. 

When you got called up your hands began to sweat. You find your way into Bradford’s office and with a nervous step forward, you take your jacket off and sit down on the small chair before his desk.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself with a handshake, Bradford immediately recognizing your name. 

“Flynn Bradford, a pleasure,” he returns with a friendly smile. 

He was a middle aged man with a few silver hairs peeking through, but he wore a friendly smile and seemed very composed nonetheless. He took your score and opened it immediately. He looked over it in silence for a few moments, you sitting on the edge of your seat. 

“I do have to say, Ms. Y/L/N, I was waiting to meet you so I could go over this with you. I think you’re a brilliant composer,” he speaks slowly. 

You swallow harshly, “Thank you so much,” you gush, “I’ve been at it since I was a kid so I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods again, sifting through the pages, “And I have to say I’m impressed by the tone in the demo and the overall markup of the piece. I think there are a few minor changes that we’d like to see done but all in all I think it’s good.”

You nod your head quickly, “Of course and I was expecting to do so. I- uh- how many changes are we thinking about here?”

“Well it’s still your piece, so quite minor ones just to increase your chances of having it sold to a school or a symphony. Or, you could keep it how it is but that might not be the easiest to sell.”

“Right, so hypothetically, if I get all the changes done and we’re satisfied within a few weeks, it can go off to you?” you ask in shock.

“It seems to be that way, yes. I’ll send you a contract and some markups once I get to talk with my team about this. It would be best to get your own lawyer to look over this for copyright purposes and to make sure you’re alright with all the fine print,” he advises. 

“Yes, I will definitely do that, yeah. Thank you so much,” you reiterate. 

He hums a reply and hands you back your score with a tight lipped smile, “So this meeting was a bit quicker and the other might be too depending on what you like and want. Remember all the corrections we send are suggestions so you do what you want and we’ll be alright with whatever you choose to do,” he reminds you. 

You nod and shake his hand once more, leaving the building with bright eyes and a winning score in your hands. 

The first instinct you had as you sat back into your car was to call Harry but you were so overwhelmed with excitement you decided that going to see him at his house would be a better idea. 

After all, he deserved to be the first person to know because he helped you so much when it came to the composition of this piece. 

You were smiling incredibly wide as you made your way over to his townhouse in the city. His complex was very modern, a clear juxtaposition to your victorian styled home, but you welcomed it warmly. You enjoyed the prospect of having a place to go that is more minimal in comparison to your cluttered property. 

It was hardly fifteen minutes before you parked outside of his home, your car finding its normal spot in the driveway of his garage. 

Your legs carried you faster than you could have imagined, rushing you to the front of his house and your hand pounded against his door with a sense of urgency.

Harry took his time making his way downstairs, a towel around his waist and an impatient girl he had hardly met waited in his bed upstairs. 

He opened his door slightly, allowing his head to peek out of the small crack he created, “Hey!” he exclaimed when he realized it was you. 

“Hi! Can I come in?” you ask excitedly. 

“I’m not exactly decent,” his hand scratches the back of his neck, “Can you wait down here as I get some clothes on?” 

“Sure, take your time,” you nod in understanding, allowing Harry to make his way back upstairs. 

“Who’s at the door?” the girl asks from her spot on his bed as Harry changes quickly into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 

“Just a friend, she should be gone soon,” he replies. 

“You sure? She seemed really excited to see you.”

Harry lets out a sigh, “Logan, I promise she's just a friend. And what does it matter anyway?”

“Well I don't want to be the other woman,” she pouts, “But if you say she’s just a friend then I believe you.”

“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder briefly as he made his way back downstairs to where you were waiting on his sofa. 

“So whats up?” he asks, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m alright. I have some news, though,” you say, enthusiasm raising once again. 

“Okay, lay it on me,” Harry joins you on the sofa. 

“So I met with Flynn Bradford today,” you lead on, hoping Harry could understand what the news was. 

“No way,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “He picked you up? That’s amazing holy shit! Congrats!” 

“Thanks! You helped so much, I thought you had to be the first to know. And on Wednesday you can help me decide what corrections to add, too. This is all so exciting! It’s happening so fast!” you ramble quickly, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug. 

“No you did that all on your own! I knew they’d pick you up, too. So fucking talented,” he mumbles, returning your embrace. 

“Thank you oh my goodness! Okay, I just wanted to come over quick to tell you that. I have to work on some audition music so I’ll head out in a few,” you say. 

Harry opens his mouth to reply when you both hear his bedroom door open. Harry’s eyes widened in realization and your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Harry?” you hear an unrecognizable voice, “You done?” 

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes as you start to realize what was happening. He was with someone. He found someone and it wasn’t you. 

She walks down the stairs and your head immediately turns in the direction of the girl. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your tears in the ducts of your eyes as you see her in a t-shirt you know Harry absolutely loves. 

“Hey, uh Logan. This is Y/N,” he trails off lightly, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

“Hi,” you smile falsely and extend your hand for her to shake. 

“Hey, I’m Logan. You’re Harry’s friend?” she presumes, looking at the two of you. 

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” you pause, “Sorry, I didn’t know H was seeing anyone. This was kind of unexpected.”

“Oh that’s alright, I was going to leave soon anyway. Have to meet some friends for dinner,” she shrugged carelessly. 

“No, no, you can stay. I feel bad. I can be out in a few minutes,” you tell her with a soft smile.

She looked at you and Harry intervened before she could get a word out, “That’s alright, you can both stay if you want?” he suggested. 

“I really do have to go,” Logan trailed off. 

Harry quickly jumped at this, “Oh! Sorry, love. Yeah, go ahead, don’t mean to keep you here if you need to be somewhere.”

“I’ll just grab my stuff,” she smiles at the two of you and heads back upstairs to where you assume she was staying in Harry’s bedroom.

You and Harry stand in silence for a moment, “Sorry I should’ve asked to come over. I’ll go, you can spend some time with her before she leaves,” you finally stammer with a slightly wavering voice. 

“No!” Harry exclaims a bit too loudly, making you flinch at his tone. “You can stay,” he whispers. 

“That’s alright, I have to practice anyway,” you say in a rush, leaving his house at once without looking back at him.

// 

It was two days later when Logan showed up at Harry’s house with a soft smile on her face and her eyes filled with lust. 

Not only two minutes after Harry opened the door, his lips were on hers and they were making their ways upstairs to his bedroom. Logan had come to Harry’s for a quick fuck and Harry was there to provide. 

It had taken them a few weeks to get into a flow and get a general idea of each others bodys and needs and now that they were getting good sex, they didn’t take many moments to stop and catch their breath. 

There were a few moments, though where Logan knew she fell short of your company. She could tell with a quick glance at Harry that he was a lovesick puppy when it came to you and it became more and more apparent the more time they spent together. 

When they weren’t fucking, he spent most of his free time talking about you. The girl of his dreams and the funniest, prettiest, nicest, person he’s ever met. 

She had her hands in his hair and he had his hands tugging on her waist when his phone began buzzing from his bedside table. 

Logan sat up from where she laid, straddling Harry’s lap. He let out a soft groan and ran and hand through his hair as he checked who had called him.  

His lips fell into an effortless smile as he answered your call, leaving Logan breathless and unfulfilled. She resulted in getting up from his bed and walking out of his house once she realized it was you he was talking to. 

//

That following Monday, you watched as Harry made his way into your home, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the two of you as you sat on your sofa. 

“How was your date with Logan?” you ask eventually. 

“Oh, it was- it wasn’t a date,” Harry tried to describe, leaving you confused. Harry wasn’t one for casual hookups. 

“Then what was it?” you ask timidly, hoping for an answer you can understand. 

“Just meeting an old friend from college,” he coughs. 

“A friend?” you ask confused. 

“Yeah, uh, a friend,” he emphasized. 

“Oh,” you let out softly, “Why’d you get back with her?” you ask. 

“I don’t think the girl I like likes me back, so I wanted a distraction” he replies vaguely, turning on your TV in search of a new film to watch on Netflix.  

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Harry looks at you for the first time that day, “Well she doesn’t act like it at all, so I think I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you shrug, “What is there to lose?”

“A person who I value a lot in my life,” he replies almost instantly. 

You didn’t reply after that, allowing the film Harry chose in a haze to begin and you sink further into the sofa. 

//

It had been an eventful week. You had sent back your manuscript twice between today and your original week and yesterday you had auditioned for the live orchestra for the annual Nutcracker production. 

This had been your fifth year playing in it- you were very confident in your ability to get a spot in the orchestra- but it was the solo that brought you grief. Every year, each section had a competitive fight between musicians for the solos that are littered through the production. 

You found that the busy week that had followed you around became the main reason you were able to get your mind off Harry. No matter what you did he meandered his way into your thoughts and you were beginning to feel pathetic that your mood relied on him. 

It was when you came home from auditions on Tuesday evening when you got a phone call from Harry. You hesitantly picked up the phone and allowed him to speak first. 

“Y/N? You there? Can you talk for a second?” he asked. 

“Yeah, what’s up,” you reply. 

“I need your advice. I think Logan wants to start seeing someone but she won’t admit it to me so I don’t know what I should do because I don’t want her to hold back on it just because of me,” he pushes quickly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well why wouldn’t she admit she wants to see someone? She probably likes you, H, don’t worry. She’ll talk to you if she likes someone else.”

You heard a heavy sigh come from Harry’s end of the line as you picked up all your belongings from your car, your phone sitting between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I just- I don’t think she wants to tell me for some reason.”

What you didn’t know was that Harry was trying to prolong this call in an attempt to see if you would tell him to cut it off with Logan. It had only been a few weeks, and to be fair he hadn’t hooked up with her more then three times.

He knew he loved you but he needed confirmation that you liked him back. Logan insisted that you did but he didn’t trust her judgement as much as he trusted his own. 

As you learned through numerous conversations with Harry, he is a charming man, but he is also a confusing one. He isn’t direct and he seems to beat around the bush when it comes to serious things in his life. 

“Okay,” you say, confused, “Well just tell her that if she can’t be honest then she’s never going to be able to break it off with you. And if she says the same thing and you still don’t believe her just cut it off,” you advise selfishly. 

You wanted to help Harry, you truly did, but you were also a human. You were selfish and needy and you wanted Harry to yourself. So, you did what a selfish, and jealous, girl would do and you hinted at breaking it off. 

“Thanks,” he let out a huff of air, “Sorry, I have to sort some stuff out and I’m really stressed so I wanted your opinion about this,” he apologizes. 

“It’s alright. Let me know how it goes, yeah? I gotta run some errands but I’ll see you tomorrow?” you confirm. 

Harry hums in agreement and you hang up first, leaving him with the dial tone on his phone. 

The first thing you do when you get in your office is check your email. You were waiting on a reply from Bradford- you had just sent in another round of corrections and asked him for minor technical critiques to finish off the piece. You were proud of where it was and you were thoroughly in love with it. 

Just as you opened your laptop, you saw the taunting icon saying you have an unread email. You attempted to calm your nerves before opening it, preparing yourself for almost all senders. 

But calming your nerves turned into a loud scream. Bradford had replied and informed you that he loved the piece and accepts it as your final draft. He also mentioned that he will fax over the legal documents to look over before meeting with him officially and signing all the necessary contracts. 

Just as he said, later that night you received a thick stack of papers to sift off to your parents to help you look over and make sure everything was alright for you to sign. 

You bind all the pages together with a few paperclips and make a quick drive into the suburbs to give your parents the good news and ask them to help you find someone to look over all the papers for you. 

Your parents weren’t the most enjoyable people to live with but they were great to see in moderation. It was a large showcase of love every time you or Monica came home- they cooked, cleaned, and helped with just about everything you asked. 

So, when you arrived home, you got the full treatment. Your mom had cooked a nice dinner for you all and your dad helped you look over the contracts in their entirety as you waited for dinner to be served. You deemed the papers safe and the three of you decided you could sign on them as soon as possible and get all the proper licensing. 

You were overjoyed on your drive home and the moment you arrived back, you sent Bradford a quick email from your phone saying you can meet anytime to sign and that you had looked over the contracts. 

The following morning, you had gotten back a response stating he was free later that afternoon and you took him up on his offer to sign on the fine Wednesday. 

You met him back at his office, similar to the first time, and you had brought all the papers he had sent you, giving him a solid rundown of what you were expecting and negotiating royalties. 

You had taken half an hour to settle on a final deal and Bradford had gotten the contracts readjusted for you to sign. 

It was nerve wracking but exciting to be holding the pen in your hand and you signed page after page, ensuring your music could be sold and would be given proper care and proper copyright laws. 

“Last one right here, Y/N,” Bradford encouraged you. Your wrist grew tired but you refused to complain considering how much you wanted this and how long you waited. 

“Okay,” you grunted, signing your name sloppily and allowing Bradford to pull all the papers out from under your hold. 

“So, what this all ensures from our relationship standpoint is that we are the primary distributor and we will be helping with copyright and making sure you get your money's worth,” he briefs with a chuckle. He straightens out the stack and stands up with a smile on his face. 

You follow in suit and stand up at the desk, straightening out your pants, “Thank you so much,” you gush. 

“Thank you for thinking to work with us,” Bradford countered, making you shake your head. 

“Of course,” you say kindly, “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few weeks. Been a huge help.”

“Oh it was our pleasure, Y/N. You're a wonderful artist. I think we all enjoyed working with your piece.”

You shake Bradfords hand and exchange pleasantries as you exit his office with a smile on your face.

It was the rush of relief that went through your body that helped you realize the gravity of what just happened. Your music has been sold and now has the opportunity to be in music shops, orchestras, and played all across the globe. And that was a great feeling. 

It was indescribable, to say the least. It had taken over a year to compose the piece and you had multiple failed attempts prior to this one. The piece you named Domicile was quite literally a love letter to your life. 

The piece went through the ups and downs of love. Domestic love, platonic love, romantic love. It was all encompassed in the piece you titled home. 

Written from the back of your mind, you had no idea how to articulate how proud of yourself you were. It was self expression and it was beautiful. 

Later that evening, Harry arrived at your home as he usually did. He held a small calculator and his laptop in his arm as he abandoned his car in your driveway and made his way up to your door. 

He knocked before opening it, knowing you always forget to lock it when you came home from work, and he followed the noise of soft jazz down the hall and into your office. 

The paint smell had finally vanished the room and he  found you sitting comfortably on the floor with your legs folded beneath you. “Hey, how was your day?” He asks, walking in and sitting across from you on the floor. 

“Really fucking good,” you grin, making eye contact with him. 

“Care to explain?” he asks with wide eyes and an encouraging smile. 

“Yes,” you say dramatically, “I, Y/N Y/L/N, am officially,” you pause for effect. 

“Oh come on,” Harry groans in anticipation. 

“I am officially a signed artist,” you squeal in excitement. 

“No fucking way,” he says softly, “No fucking way!” he yells. “I knew you would oh my goodness! This is amazing! We have to celebrate-” he rambles on. 

“Harry!” you exclaim with a giggle, “No need to celebrate this is enough!” you assure. 

“No, no, no,” Harry says, “We gotta do something. Even if it’s just a dinner with Mon and I. We gotta.”

“No,” you reiterate firmly. 

“Fine,” Harry says, “But you’re coming with me,” he says standing up. He extends his hand out and helps you stand before leading you to your living room. 

He gently tugs your arm towards him and he presses his chest up against yours. “Play it on the speaker, love,” he whispers. 

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling back and using your phone to play the symphony over your speaker system per Harry’s request. 

Harry smiled at you and gently put his hand up to yours, interlocking your fingers and holding you tightly. “Dance with me?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 

“Of course, sir,” you tease, stepping into his hold, his arms wrapping around your waist and your hands draped over his shoulders lightly. 

“I’m really proud of you,” he whispers, swaying back and forth. 

“Thank you so much,” you hum, “Seriously, you helped with so much of it. I really appreciate it.”

Harry ducked his head in a bashful manner, unsure of how to reply to your high praise, “I’d do it again if I had to.” 

You shake your head, looking out the window next to you two. The sun was setting and the sky was a painting of oranges and pinks, “God, Harry.”

“What,” he chuckles, following your gaze.

“I cannot believe you’re real,” you whisper, you hand moving to meet his jaw. You graze your thumb over his skin in utter disbelief. 

“Harry?” you call out softly. He was zoned out, staring at your profile. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Course.”

“Can I kiss you?” you breathe out timidly. You don’t know where exactly you got all the courage that consumed your body at that current moment, but you were thankful for it. 

Harry swallowed thickly before his eyes met yours, “Yes please,” he whispers back at you.

Your hand that rested on his jaw caressed the skin for a moment before you leaned into his warmth. Your lips met his lightly, you pulling away too quickly for his liking. Harry looked at you once more before leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet yours heavily. 

You smile into his mouth, absolute joy coursing through your veins as he kissed you so carefully but so harshly. Your bodies stilled into the kiss, your mouths moving in sync slowly, absorbing every inch of each other. 

Harry lets out a small groan as you grind slowly against him, his head threatening to roll back if it weren’t for your hand holding his head still. 

His hands moved along your back comfortingly making your body melt into his expertly. You pull away again, Harry looking at you with dimmed eyes, you completely out of breath, “Songs over,” you whisper. 

“So restart it,” he replies with a small grin. 

//

Harry ended up seeing the full performance of Midsummer the last night it was performed at the theater. He apologized profusely and insisted he’d see the last of the show if it was the last thing he did, so you let him come and sit right in the front as he wished. 

Just as the first time, he sent you smiles of luck before your solo and a few more afterwards to show he was proud of you. Just as you anticipated, he is the best person to cheer you on during a performance. 

You knew Harry would be waiting for you in the lobby, so you held off on putting your overcoat on and allowed yourself to step out of the backstage area with your black dress and short heels, your clarinet and jacket in hand. 

He held his arm out for you once you became close enough for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and you walked into his hold, “I got something for you,” he tells you. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask with a smile creeping its way onto your lips. 

Harry smiles at you before handing you the flowers that sat in his other hand. It was an assortment of long stem red roses, what he read to be the traditional rose to give after a performance. 

“Thank you,” you whisper in awe, your eyes meeting his as he looks at you. 

Harry hums in response and tugs you closer to his body before leaving a quick peck on your lips and pulling away just as fast as he approached you. 

You and Harry were confused to say the least. You had both confirmed you liked each other the night you got signed but you found it difficult for the two of you to label what was going on. Harry wanted it to be exclusive and you wanted to give it a trial run to see how it would work. And though you did give it a trial run, the two of you were yet to discuss what was going on. 

You assumed this would be like any other relationship you had been in- after a few months and a handful of dates, you’d consider yourselves partners- but this was vastly different. You have known Harry for a few years now and he has always been a part of your life. So what counted as a date and what was as normal?

Well, tonight constituted a date. Harry had told you before he arrived that he would be taking you out for a nice dinner after your show and to be ready for the best night of your life. You rolled your eyes at his antics and humored him by showing him the outfit you had picked out- the dress you found yourself wearing every Sunday- and a different jacket then you usually wore- this one more flattering for the body.

Harry nodded in approval at this and made his way to the theater, you asking one of your friends to give you a ride so you could go home with Harry later that night. 

Now you sat in Harry’s car with his hand resting on your knee, your hand covering his as he drives you both to dinner. He was clad in the same suit he wore the first time he saw you and it subtly matched the black dress and white coat with pleats that you wore next to him.

Harry informed you when you got in the car that he would be taking you to his favorite (fancy) steakhouse in the next city over. Before you could protest her told you it was in celebration of your final performance and being signed, therefore your protests would only further encourage him. 

“Will these flowers be alright sitting in the car during dinner?” you ask him.

“Not sure,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “I’ll get you new ones if they aren’t.”

“No!” you’re quick to stop him, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well what if I want to? You gonna stop me from fulfilling my inner desires?” he asks you teasingly. 

You roll your eyes at him and look out the window. The soft sounds of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac fill the silence as Harry exits the highway and turns into the parking lot of Del Friscos, the steakhouse. 

Harry exits the car first, rushing to your door so he can open the door for you. You smile at him as you step out of the car and walk in the building hand in hand.

The restaurant was dimly lit and had high, round booths around the perimeter of the room, tables with pristine white tablecloths among the center. Harry met the host with a small smile and a, “Styles, party of two,” before being led to a corner booth with you in toe. 

You smile at Harry as you slide into the booth, your hands making their way to the hem of your dress and tugging on it, “This place is really nice,” you comment your voice laced with insecurity. 

“Yup, that’s why we look really nice,” Harry reminds you.

“I feel like this is normal,” you chuckle, “I wear this every Sunday.”

“My girl looks this nice every Sunday and I never knew? Might have to make a pit stop Sunday nights too,” Harry compliments. 

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “I’d be alright with that.” 

Harry smiles at you as a waitress comes over and asks what drinks you’d like. 

The dinner was filling and well-made, you found yourself laughing harder than you ever had and eating the best food you’ve had in awhile. 

Harry held your hand as you left the steakhouse and he opened the passenger seat door for you, rushing to the other side to turn the heater on for you, “One more stop before I bring ya home,” Harry tells you. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Alright, where?” 

“Oh, Y/N, you should know by now that if I don’t tell you it’s a secret!” 

“Well it was worth a try,” you shoot him a smile, your hand finding its place in his. 

Harry hums in agreement, “Just know if I want you to know, you’ll know.”

You let out a laugh at his stubbornness, “Alright sir,” you say in a posh accent. 

Harry lets out an exaggerated hey before saying, “That’s what I sound like when I talk to my boss.

You burst out in laughter and Harry goes on to tell you an embarrassing story from the first time he met his boss. 

When Harry’s car reverses into a spot, your eyes shoot up in surprise at your arrival at the hardly-built riverwalk in your town. It was a new location and half the restaurants were still in the process of being built but it was still a nice place to go. 

You catch the door before Harry can, you send him a smug smile and take his hand as he tugs you gently towards the ice cream shop he seemed to be eyeing. 

The location was dimly lit with blue tinted lights and a few wall sconces that gave a warm orange glow. 

“How did you know I wanted to come here?” you asked him finally, coming to a stop and stepping inside the building. 

“It’s just about the only thing you’ve talked about for about two months,” Harry teased you with an accusatory finger. 

Your lips curve upwards as you exhale a laugh, “Okay, you got me there.” 

Harry smirks at you as you look at the menu before you, stepping up to the teen worker who looked far too tired to be awake, “Can I get a scoop of chocolate? And he’ll have,” you point at Harry. 

“Uh- I’ll have a scoop of vanilla with graham crumbs please,” Harry gives the worker a cheeky grin and wraps his arm around your waist as you wait for your cones. 

You smile in thanks as Harry pays, heading out of the building almost immediately to be met with a gust of wind and a lit up river beside you. 

Harry stays by your side as you both walk in silence taking in the scenery, eating your ice cream peacefully. It was a really nice way to spend your evening and you found yourselves enjoying each other's presence more than each other's conversation.

“Okay,” you swallow the last bit of your ice cream, “What’s your dream travel destination?” you ask.

Harry's eyebrows raise in amusement, “What, did you look up first date questions?”

You stifle out a laugh, “Maybe, I didn’t know if it would be awkward.” 

Harry lets out an exaggerated, “Ha!” before redirecting you back in the direction of his car, “That’s cute that you care so much.” 

“What and you don’t care?” you tease. 

“I care just not enough to google first day questions,” he pokes your side playfully. 

You laugh out a “Fine!” and redirect the conversation to your performance from earlier that night. 

// 

It was a full week apart from Harry and you were excited to reunite with him. Your week had been full with auditions for different parts in the Nutcracker every day so you found yourself unavailable to spend your Monday and Wednesday with Harry, having little to no time to yourself. 

Now, the following Sunday, the only thing between Harry and yourself was your front door. 

Harry was officially invited to your orchestra’s gala in celebration of completing Midsummer. You both had decided that Harry would arrive promptly two hours before you needed leave and you two would get ready together. 

He was lying down on your bed as you leaned over your bathroom counter in an attempt to perfect your eyeliner, “Don’t know why you bother with that,” you hear him grumble. 

You let out a chuckle and stood back to decide if it was even enough, “Me neither it’s too fucking hard.”

Harry lets out a snort, “That's what she said.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him through your mirror, “You sure you’re not fifteen?” 

Harry smiles, “You sure The Office is only for fifteen year olds?” he shoots back.

Your face matches his and you lean into the mirror once more to perfect your eyeliner before moving to your closet to change into your dress for the night, prompting Harry to begin getting into his suit as well. 

Today, for the nicer event, you wore a nude dress with navy accents towards the bottom and a leg slit Harry thought made you look absolutely ravishing. And, in perfect coordination, Harry wore a navy suit with a white half-buttoned shirt underneath and his favorite red boots that reminded him of an old western movie you’d watched a few months back. 

He held your hand as you stepped out of your closet and let out a dramatic “Oh damn!” at first sight before spinning you around so he can get a full idea of your outfit. 

You fall into a fit of giggles and collapse into his hold and he sways back and forth, “I really like you,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you reply with a grin, “I like you a lot back.” 

“Well how lucky am I?” 

“So damn lucky,” you tell him as you let out a silent giggle, “Come on, let's head out.”

The drive to the theater seemed all too short for the both of you. You were sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company on the way there, stealing a few kisses at a red light or a longing glance while Harry was concentrating on changing lanes during rush hour.

When you arrived at the hotel the gala was held at, you both found your way inside and to the tables that were set up with your names on small place cards. You both sat there in soft chatter as you awaited the arrival of your friends who were to sit at the same table. 

Eventually, you were met with a crowd of people around your table and your voices raised in volume and excitement. It was merely 8:00 when your ears were greeted by the sound of a disconnected microphone. 

“Hello, everyone, I’m Jordan Pennington, the conductor of the Midsummer Night’s Dream orchestra performance and I’m here to recognize each performer for their outstanding work over the course of these past months,” his voice cut through the room like glass. 

Jordan then went on to state each performer and his favorite memory with them through the course of the orchestral production. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Jordan introduced, an image of you as a baby and you now making their way onto the screen behind him, “Y/N is a strong clarinetist we are blessed to have in our group. She works very hard in the theater and outside and has recently been signed as a composer so I’m hoping I’ll be conducting her work soon,” he paused as people congratulated you. You didn’t publicize your signing, so a lot of people were in shock and impressed. 

“She’s been with us for a while so we have a few good memories with her at this theater but I think everybody's favorite is just about any time Y/N brings lunch,” he pauses as everyone starts laughing. You bury your face in your hands as Harry looks at you with a confused smile.

“When Y/N brings lunch she without fail trips on one of the steps and spills something,” Jordan informs. You let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughter and Harry covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter. 

“Can we move on?” you call out.

Jordan lets out a laugh and obliges, moving onto the next person on his list.

You glance at Harry who is taking a sip of wine and you raise your eyebrows at him, making him nearly spit out his drink, “Sorry, love,” he coughs out, bringing you in for a hug, “Just sounds so much like you it’s impossible,” he tells you. 

You roll your eyes at him and continue to listen as Jordan goes through the rest of your orchestra. 

When he finishes, your food is devoured and the middle of the room is opened to allow people to dance. You glance at Harry and take his hand, reminding him of the night you first kissed, “Come on,” you mutter. 

He allows you to take him to the center of the room where some of your colleagues have begun to conglomerate and dance slowly to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, you two joining in the mass.

Unlike last time, you knew exactly how to act, your arms immediately finding a home around his shoulders and pulling him close so your flesh is against his. 

Harry smiled at this and squeezed you at the waist as a silent way of saying I love you, his head leaning in towards yours and your foreheads resting against each other. 

“How is it that we always end up dancing?” he asks you. 

“Not sure, I was never good at it either but here I am,” you chuckle a reply. 

Harry’s eyes shoot up in disbelief, “There is no way you weren’t a good dancer.”

“Swear on it,” you say, your lips tugging upwards to make a smile. 

“No. I refuse to believe that, you’re so good,” he says, his eyes shooting down to your feet and then back up to your eyes making you giggle. 

“Nope,” you say confidently, “Just found you and you were good. By association I’m good.”

“So what you’re saying is you found the right partner?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You fall into a full belly laugh at his antics before agreeing, “I found the right partner.”

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