An Unfinished Tale [teaser]

an unfinished tale [teaser]

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: In an age absent of DMs and dating apps, a year you're not supposed to exist in, you defy all odds and manage to fall in love with the neighbor down the hall from your uncle's dorm. Part of you wishes he feels the same, part of you hopes he doesn't - for the sake of your heart and his.

Genre: Fluff, crack, smidgen of angst, first/last loves, time travel!au, 90s!au, college!au, uncle/roommate!chan, chan has a twin brother who is reader's dad LMAO, fairy godmother!seokmin; featuring friends!seungkwan, vernon, and jihoon too 💙

Warnings: PG-13 - profanity in this, they make out (?)

teaser wc: ~1.4k

A/N: One last run before I close this chapter of my writing blog . . .? Pouring all my feels into this one and learning how to be patient with writing and myself 💙 Who would've thunk it would be a Wonwoo series lol - I had the hardest time writing for him early on . . . Pls send an ask if you want to stick around for this one - probably a very long ride lol! Thanks for reading always, even if you never comment 🫶🏻

Adapted from this idea (sorry vernon 😅🙃) and revamp of wish you were here. Inspired by Wendy's Better Judgement.

start date: mid to end of march/early april

"You have to tell me!" Chan begs as you turn and make your way to the other side of the room - not that it was very far. The course from his desk to the bunk beds were less then twelve steps. "You're doing a huge disservice to my bloodline!"

"If I tell you, it's going to disrupt the time and space continuum, and you're whole future is going to be out of wack - I'm doing you a favor," you protest. It's followed by a small snort as you grab onto the ladder and position yourself to hoist up your body. What you thought was a quiet mutter to yourself than him, you add, "As if you'd have a bloodline."

Uncle Chan? Married? Bold of him to assume he could whisk away Sunnie.

His footsteps behind you suddenly come to a halt and the room grows quiet - only the sound of Vernon and his drums next door rattling away revibrate through the thin walls.

"I-I don't?" Chan asks pitifully.

"Fuck," you say under your breath. You make note to to filter that mouth of yours in the near future, especially around Chan and when it comes to his future. You loved your uncle and he was cool - ish, in the present. You didn't realize what a pain in the ass he actually was in his youth. Maybe that's why your father was so put off by him because you too are annoyed.

Making your way down again, you turn to find him pouting, gaze glued to the mysterious purple stain in once cream colored carpet - he claimed it was from when Vernon spilled the EZ Squirt purple ketchup, but something about the shade of it didn't have you convinced. You note how Chan blinks rapidly to will away his tears, an occasional sniffle cutting in.

"Look," you clamp your hands down on his shoulder, but he only hangs his head lower. "I'm sorry."

"I'm a loner hermit in the year 2000," he mumbles.

"Y-you're not!" you argue.

"I'm not?" Chan looks back up at you hopefully.

It's quite unfortunate you inherited the Lee trait of not being able to hold a poker face. The lie is evident in the distress in your eyes and slightest clench of your jaw.

"Seungkwan was right," he wails, slipping past you and flopping onto the bottom bunk, "I'm going to be living in Seungeung's basement and taking care of his kid!"

"You're not a loser, okay?" you exclaim, you rack your mind for some fibs, "Y-you're a music producer? a rapper? and you dance! Kind of."

"I'm dying alone!"

"I mean," you turn to look at his collapsed body, sprawled on the worn plaid comforter, "Y-you're not lonely? That kid Seungkwan is teasing you about is me."

Chan whines even louder, "That doesn't make it any better!"

You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping forward in defeat. Just as you were about to chastise him for self-pitying, there's a knock at the door - three firm, rhythmic beats. In sync, you and Chan lift your heads towards the door. It stops and a half-sheet of blue-lined notebook paper slips through the bottom crack of the door. You'd half expect to hear the footsteps of the perpetrator clambering down the halls, but their steps move at an easy pace and padded.

Chan gets up and follows you as you walk over to the note, carefully unfolding it. Black ink bleeds through - you're able to make out some letters from behind. The corners of the 'r' are darkened, the middle of the 't' sits like a target waiting to be shot at.

rooftop? after curfew :) - ww

As Chan gasps scandalously, your cheeks immediately heat up and you crumple the note into a ball in your fist in hopes that you're uncle didn't read it in full. Wonwoo's handwriting is messy and connected -something between chicken scratch and cursive. It's hardly legible most days. Nonetheless, the hope is weak, knowing the message was short and Chan was breathing down your neck as well.

"After curfew!?" Chan repeats, exaggerated, his existential crisis moments earlier forgotten. "What are you all going to do after curfew?"

You can hardly care for his judgement right now though - all you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears and the jumbled thoughts. Shoving the crumpled note into your pocket, you take off, swinging open the door and eyes darting up and down the hallway, looking for him.

It's almost as if Wonwoo didn't want to go unseen - as if he was waiting for you to come out. He's by the door of his dorm room, one hand rest on the stainless steel handle as his gaze are trained on you. When your eyes lock, the corners of his lips curl up the slightest bit - if you didn't already know him so well, you wouldn't have known he was smiling either. His lips were stretched thin, but pressing together firmly as he tries to hide his nerve and excitement. You curse yourself for letting it affect you so much too, your heart fluttering at the sight.

His composure breaks, the toothless smile, turning into a grin as he breaks eye contact with you and turns his attention to his door, shoving the key into the lock. With a flick of his wrist it opens with a click that echoes down the hall. Wonwoo's eyes flicker once more in your direction before he enters and shuts you out of his world again, and it makes you scoff.

He amuses you, frankly - puzzles you, even.

You wonder how someone like him, seemingly so subtle and so calm, could root himself into your life in the short time you've been here, and paint it with loud colors and cause more turbulence than the waves of the oceans during a full moon.

Bonus because I'm excited 😭:

It was quick, lips wavering and barely brushing against your own before he retreats.

"Oh," is all you're able to say, albeit, it's barely above a whisper. Unconsciously, your fingers fly to your lips, pressing gently at the ghost of his touch.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Um," you clear your throat, shaking your head, "Y-you don't have to be - you shouldn't."

"I-I . . . I just . . . that was my first time," he confesses.

"I could do better," he declares, a little more confidently. It quickly dissipates however. Wonwoo nervously adds, "Only i-if you want to, of course-"

"Y-your first kiss?" you clarify, asking a little louder - you're taken aback. Wonwoo wasn't ugly and he was a senior - you expected him to collect several first kisses by this point, not be giving away his own.

You crane your neck more to get a better look at him, though it's hard without the lights on in Seungkwan's room. The crescent moon offers a little help, slipping through the opaque curtains and casting a sliver of white across his darkened features, though it reflects off the lens of his glasses, blinding you each time you try to look in his direction.

"You should then," you interject hastily without much thought before he gets any other ideas. Unconsciously, you find yourself leaning in, shifting your seat on the bed closer to him.

He looks up at you this time, lips fallen agape though no words escape.

Only now are you realizing your words sounded weird - desperate almost, and you didn't like it. This is not a proper way to court your crush! Let alone in the 90s! You didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

Letting out a soft sigh, you shift back, pulling your lips in between your teeth in embarrassment. You repeat his last words to you - or at least you try.

"Only if you want -"

Within seconds, His hand reach up to caress your cheek, the other coming to hold your waist as he leans in. His lips are pressed against yours again, but firmer this time. There's certainty in his kiss, a sense of reassurance that this was right.

The first thing to fade are your nerves - gone with the hesitancy, gone with the pounding of your heart, gone with the intricate dance you had perfect when it came to him. You're quick to fall into rhythm with him, his touch brings you relief - comfort even.

The second thing to fade are your surroundings. Seungkwan's room melts away, the muffled beat that Vernon played for the crowd below grows quiet. Only the quiet gasps and twee chortles between kisses fill the room.

"Chan is going to murder me," Wonwoo mutters breathlessly as he rests his forehead against yours. As if to tell him otherwise, you tilt your head up and peck his lips once more, eliciting another chuckle from him.

He feels right in this moment and nothing else mattered.

It's 1993, but for once, time doesn't matter.

Heal me XI

Word count: 2300+

Warnings: mentions of puking, emotional and mental stress, mixed feelings

Honestly, this part was a pure struggle💦 Except of Rhysand's offer that I wanted in this chapter I had nothing..

Also I've got a little carried away🤷

Part X | Part XII

Two weeks had passed since Rhysand, your brother, brought you to his court. You calmed down a bit, partly accepting the situation and giving him the chance he asked you for. Maybe the powder he mixed every morning into your tea, could have something to do with it. Not even honey could beat over the bitterness that remained on the tongue.

Of course, you could refuse the tea, but you were afraid someone would force it down your throat anyway. You felt Rhysand watching you carefully until the teacup was empty and only then the tension in the room eased. And so dutifully pretending you didn't notice anything, you drank it.

Whatever was that powder for, your desire to return home hadn't changed at all. At this point you felt really homesick, trying to hide it in front of others. It was useless to show your weaknesses, your vulnerability. Nobody would help you get out of here anyway.

You were gradually introduced to Rhysand's friends and family. Some of them claimed to know you since you were a newborn, some seemed to be new additions like Feyre, your brother's mate, and her sisters. Everyone was nothing but nice and friendly to you, but you were still uncomfortable around them.

Every time Rhysand had some free time, he spent it with you, showing you the city or taking you for walk in the large garden around the house while telling you stories of past. Morrigan, your cousin, did the same. They tried really hard to make you remember something.

Even now you were sitting with Mor on terrace of some cafe in the city, river running under it, attracting your attention like a magnet.

She told you that before you had been basically best friends, always spending time together and breaking all the rules parents set. However it didn't help to change your feelings or to be more relaxed with her. It was apparent she had a certain expectations and it made you even more uneasy. Just like with Rhysand.

Today she took you out to drink an ice tea, the drink she claimed to be your absolute favourite one. Before.

After the first few sips you swore never touch it again. It was everything except of delicious or tea.

You tried to keep up with her, listening to all the memories that supposed to be yours, but it felt rather as memories of someone else, someone so different it couldn't be you. None of the things you'd been told so far, felt familiar. It just made you tired and your head threatened to explode with pain.

You were trapped in this strange city, with these strangers. You couldn't sleep, eat nor drink, hardly dragging yourself through the days. Large garden around Rhysand's house took some of the stress away, but it wasn't enough. You needed the forest, your cottage, walks in nature, fresh air. You needed even him, although it hurt to even think about him. The first few days you still hoped he would appear and take you back home, but your hope died like plucked flowers in a vase leaving only a bleeding hole in your heart.

Mor finally gave up and took you back to your brother's house. She had that strange expression that reminded you of a mask holding all her emotions back, only her eyes revealed some sort of sadness. You were sure she would go to Rhysand and tell him about your afternoon, about your lack of response or interest. She always did. You couldn't care less. You weren't here by choice, you didn't want this. None of this.

Letting a sigh of relieve out, you went up the stairs and shut the door of your room behind. You needed to be alone, another thing that was very rare to have here. There was always someone with you and even when they left, you still felt eyes hidden in the dark corners following you around. Were you becoming paranoid? Most likely yes. But the unpleasant ticklish feeling on the back of your neck was always present.

You wanted to curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out, but first you had to go to toilet. This city, this house, all of them reeked of magic so strong that you were nonstop on the edge, hardly managing to hide the nausea from them. Another weakness you didn't want them to know about. A few gulps of ice tea you forced in, left your body, but it didn't help. Real relief never came.

Panting you moved to the sink to rinse your mouth. You rather avoided the mirror knowing what you would see. Dark circles under the eyes caused by bloody nightmares that wouldn't let you sleep, sunken cheeks because you couldn't eat and anything you managed to force down, ended up in toilet as soon as you were in your room. You didn't know how long your body could keep going like this, but you knew it wouldn't be long.

You returned to your room and winced in surprise. Rhysand stood in front of the bathroom door with tortured expression, his brows furrowed, jaw tightened, fingers clenched into fists on his sides. His violet-blue eyes searched yours. He seemed to want to say something, but his lips were firmly pressed together.

Great. Now he knew. You tried to avoid his gaze and get to the armchair near the window. But he stopped you. His arms embraced you, pulling you to his chest. You just stood there, unsure what to do. Even if you tried you couldn't fight him off.

"Tell me what should I do," he whispered to your hair. There was so much pain in his voice. Funny.

As far as you knew, he sincerely cared about you. Problem was you couldn't return the sentiment. No smile or amount of shared memories could change it. You weren't the person he remembered anymore. Asking him to let you go back to your cottage was a waste of time, too. You already tried it and he refused.

After a few heartbeats Rhysand recovered, his hands stopped trembling. Instead he moved them to your cheeks, thumbs caressing them gently.

"I talked with Madja, the healer who visited you this morning," he led you to bed and sat down. You did so, too. "She said you are exhausted and need a good night sleep. She left this tonic to help you sleep soundly." He put small bottle on the nightstand. "Two drops before going to bed would do," he smirked, but his eyes stayed sad.

You looked at vial. Another medicine to control you and your feelings. Even though you knew he meant this well, it only added on your anger. You rather stayed silent, decided to never take the mixture.

He seemed to choose next words carefully. "However she couldn't find a cause for your.." His voice died out and eyes wandered back to bathroom door. So he had noticed it even before. Of course. It wasn't surprising at all. He also knew about the nightmares after all. "Until now I didn't want to pressure you. I hoped you could meet our family, get to know them again and the memories would begin to appear on it's own. But it doesn't work, does it."

You shook head. He gave you another sad smile and looking down Rhys started to play with your fingers. Silence filled the room.

"Aury-"

"Don't call me that," you snapped. You were allergic to that name. Whoever that Auriela person was, she was dead. You weren't her.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to offend you.. It's just.. habit.. kind of comfort. I didn't hope that I would ever see you again or talk to you. But I wished every day you were here with me. I wished you were alive. You and our mother." Tears filled his eyes and he blinked to get rid of them. You didn't react.

High Lord cleared his throat. "I.. Let's talk openly. About everything." He swallowed hard. "I'm trying to understand how you feel, what's going on with you, how you lived all this time.. and I'm terribly failing. Please. I want to understand. Whoever you are now, I'm accepting it. I don't want to change you. I just want my sister back. The closeness we had." He watched you with desperate expression.

You frowned, confused. No matter how many times he reminded you that he was your family, for you they were only words. It'd never occurred to you to try to see it from his point of view. Apparently you weren't the only one to suffer in this situation. Thinking that maybe he deserved to get a chance, that you should give him a chance to get closer, you nodded.

His eyes widened for a moment, then he blinked rapidly and ran fingers through his dark hair. "Okay." He cleared his throat again.

"To be honest I thought you wouldn't accept my offer," he muttered, visibly taken aback by your willingness to discuss things with him openly. "I haven't thought the things over-.. Where to start?"

"How about you tell me what's that powder you add to my drink?" You frowned at him, expecting him to deny it.

"Oh, that," he gave you a small smile, squeezing your hands. "We noticed you are still in pain. Azriel said you seem to have headache constantly. He also suffers from it, so no wonder he noticed the subtle signs. And I quite often saw you wincing while moving around," he explained, noting the disbelief on your face. Then he added quietly. "I'm really sorry for what happened when we arrived. It's all my fault."

You were speechless. It was hard to believe it, but all about the headache and the muscle pain was true. It also made you realise how much they paid you attention even if they weren't looking directly at you. "Thank you," you murmured.

Silence stretched.

Rhysand watched you, pondering. "Would you tell me why.. what causes.." his head tilted in the bathroom door's direction.

Did he have to take out that topic again? You inhaled deeply, preparing for the worst kind of conversation. You wished for Tamlin to be with you. He'd never asked these things. He was very observant and intuitive. He noticed your fear of magic and never asked you why or what caused it. Not that you could explain any of that. He silently accepted that part of you and avoided using powers around you. With him, it was so easy. Everything was easy and full of happiness. You blinked quickly to get rid of such thoughts.

"It's because of magic.." you said, taking your hands from Rhysand's and instead you wrapped them around your chest protectively. "I don't like it. It makes me feel sick. Always did. This city, this house, you all stink with magic.."

Rhysand froze on the spot, he seemingly forgot to even breathe. "I had no idea," he whispered. His scent shifted, the air in your room changed, too. The smell of power disappeared, only the subtle citrus scent remained. After weeks you could finally breathe freely and relax a bit. It felt so good that closing your eyes you smiled. Rhysand's eyes tracked that movement. "Is it better now?"

"Much better. Thank you."

"What happened? You used to have no problems with magic before, even used it yourself."

"I don't know," you answered honestly. Walls around your heart cracked a bit, letting him in. "I don't remember what or who I was before. I don't remember any of you."

This time he only nodded, probably expecting it.

He asked you to be honest, so you were. You almost regretted what you were about to tell him. "All this time it feels as if you were telling me about a life of someone else. I couldn't be more different from the person you knew."

Lowering his gaze Rhysand stood up and strolled to the window. Leaning against its frame he looked out to the garden, his back turned to you. You didn't know what he felt at that moment, but you were torn. He was still stranger to you, yet you didn't want to hurt him. After all you weren't a cruel being and maybe, just maybe, you began to feel a certain kind of affection for him that you didn't want to admit.

"So you really don't remember what happened that night," he asked, snapping you out of thoughts.

"That night?"

"The night our mother died. The night you supposedly died, too."

"I-.." Images of streams of blood staining the ground, running down your arms that you saw in your nightmares, popped out. Pressing fingers to your temple you shook your head to push them away. Rhysand watched you out of the corner of his eyes over the shoulder. "I'm not sure."

"Dear sister," he sighed, his voice suddenly cold and distanced. "Do you know what my powers are? What daemati can do?"

You'd never heard about daemati, but the feeling that you should know that, remained and was strong. It sounded like something you should be afraid of. "No, I don't."

"I can look into your pretty head, see any memory I want, change them if I wish so. I can also crush the minds, but that's not what I'm offering you here. I could try to revive your memories. I could take away the fear that some of them make you feel." He slowly turned to you, watching you with wariness. "Would you like me to try that? Do you want to remember your past life?"

You stiffened, cold shiver running down your spine, breath catching in your throat. Could he do that? And more importantly did you want him to do it? You needed time to consider his offer. It wasn't an easy decision.

"It's up to you. You have as much time as you need." And with these words he left, leaving you alone with your confused mind.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay

one summer day

06 saturn ii. where ushijima’s words take you by surprise. 

<< 05 saturn i. | >> 07 sun and moon (coming soon) | << the collection >>

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: i am back from my trip now, i will be posting more regularly again, thank you for staying! i loved reading the tags on your reblogs of one summer day, they make my heart go WAHHH! my inbox is always open if you want to chat <3 - ave word count: 1.5k warnings: angst, childhood trauma, parental neglect/verbal abuse, past death of a family member

april, second year

“you don’t have to be the person in your house with me.”

since he stayed with you that night, there has been a medley of conflicting feelings swirling in you. you had felt embarrassed in the morning, but also relieved for his presence. and this burning shame in your chest whenever you see him and his eyes seem to ask, are you alright? 

you could tell he wants to ask so many questions, but he is holding himself back, waiting for you to tell him yourself. worst of all, you wanted to tell him, consequences be damned. but you were afraid he would see you differently. you don’t think you could bear the person who’s seen you at your worst decide you were not worth his time. but if you wait any longer, perhaps he would decide that anyway. 

“what i mean is, you can be yourself around me, always.” you know that. deep down, you feel it. 

“ushijima–” you start, staring down at your shoes, thinking about how to explain that day to him without trauma dumping on him. 

he corrects you, “wakatoshi”

your cheeks color, testing the way his name rolls off your tongue, “wakatoshi… i owe you an explanation…”

you decide it is easier to start from the day everything changed. so you tell him what you haven’t been able to tell any of your friends since that day eight years ago. about your sister, akiko’s death anniversary. that she passed away in an accident, and that it was your fault for leaving her outside the house when your mother tasked you to look after her. that even though eight year old you went in to get some water for the both of you playing outside, it was still your fault. that she had ran out after a stray cat and did not see the car coming. that it was your fault. 

“am i a terrible person?”

and then you hold your breath, knowing there is a possibility that he would have that accusing look in his warm brown eyes. beautiful with tiny flecks of greens and golds. you think those are your favorite features of him. and fuck, it would hurt like hell if that is the way he looks at you from now on. but you had taken a leap of faith, all you can do is hope for the best. hope that the feeling in your gut is not wrong.

“and your parents, why weren’t they around?” for their daughter’s death anniversary goes unspoken. of all the questions he could have asked, he sure did pick the most difficult one, you thought. 

“let’s just say we all cope in our own ways. akiko’s death… it changed our family for the worse. my father threw himself into work to forget about it… my mother… her grief made her meaner, colder, it changed her.” 

he gives you a concerned look, causing you to hurriedly explain that your mother is not abusive. “she’s just different than the mother i had when akiko was still here. she cared less about us, her words became sharp, like knives designed to hurt, especially when it comes to me, but she never laid a hand on us. i think her grief morphed into anger, and she never stopped blaming me for that day.”

“it isn’t your fault, you know that, right?” he grabs your wrist, turning you around to look at him. 

your next words comes out in a whisper. “i know, but if i hadn’t left her, akiko would still be here. if i had done what i was supposed to, my parents wouldn’t have lost their daughter, and we could have been happy,” your voice cracks. 

“you were a child. it wasn’t your fault. do you understand?” his strong grip on your shoulders forces you to look into his eyes. there was no judgement in them. no accusing look, no blame, only resolution. and they made you feel safe. “you cannot be blamed for your parent’s decisions, and it was their responsibility to look after their children’s well-being, not an eight year old child. your only duty was to grow up.”

an unidentifiable feeling overwhelms you, welling up tears in your eyes. what is it about me and crying in front of ushijima? you had been fine, just fine before he came along and messed up your coping system. every year before this on that day, you wouldn’t even cry, believing that all your tears had been spent when you were eight. that all you could do is feel empty and sad and self-destructive on that day while lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling until the sun comes up. 

oh gods, you were eight, and you had believed that it was your fault your family lost a sister, a daughter, and your mother let you believe it. she never let you forget it. all the hurtful words hurled at you. all the pain you swallowed and carefully locked away in a box. 

your home stopped being a home that day. 

home should feel safe. home should be a place you long to be after a long day, not somewhere you dreaded. home should feel like a warm blanket on cold winter days, not a house that is a place to eat and sleep. home should feel safe. but it doesn’t.

you had known it for a long time. but you had been running away, refusing to face the fact. that maybe if you pretended hard enough, it would all go away. all this heartbreak that you had hidden away would vanish. 

“i don’t think my mother fully forgave me for it. i don’t think she forgave herself either.” but you were only a child. and all you wanted was her love, and approval, and support, and presence in your life. 

you look up at the stars shining in the dark sky, wondering if your sister is one of the millions smiling down at you from a far away distance. “she would have been in junior high if she was still here.” you smile sadly at the stars, thinking of the life that she could have had ahead of her. all taken away in one unfortunate moment. 

“your sister would want you to be happy, to live for yourself. i think she would find solace in that.”

you turn sharply to look at ushijima. “i–i have been doing my best to survive.”

his voice turns gentle, “but not truly living.”

“have you spoken to anyone about this?”  he inquires, though you think he knows the answer.

you clench your fists, looking away, a rising feeling in your chest that you identify as discomfort. oh, he is safe, but he is not afraid to tell you the truth, no matter how much it hurts. “you’re the first.”  

no one would understand anyway. not your parents, if they even cared enough to listen to you. not your brother, who had pushed you to open up, he lost his sister that night too. 

“then you no longer carry the burden by your lonesome. live, y/n, for you and your sister.”

live. he says it like it is so easy. as if living in that house doesn’t make you gasp for breath. if only your house did not also feel like your prison. if only being alive when your sister no longer breathes does not feel like a sin. as if everyday does not feel like being trapped in the past. 

and then with excruciating realization, you admit it. “i don’t know how.” 

the recognition leaves your head spinning, and you seek the comfort that you had felt in his arms. looping your arms around his torso, you bury your head into his chest. how do i do this how do i do this how do–

“you take it day by day. one foot in front of you at a time. and you keep looking forward.” he tilts your chin up, searching your eyes. “i will be right next to you.” he promises. 

“don’t say things you don’t mean.” please don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“y/n, i only say things i mean.” you hope he sees the gratitude in your eyes. you really hope he means it. because you think you can make it, with him by your side. when you’re with ushijima, you can truly breathe. with him by your side, you can see a glimpse of your future tonight. maybe not tomorrow, not a month from now, but one day, you could be happy. 

akiko, did you send him to me? thank you. i love you. i miss you. i miss you so much. but i think i need to learn to let you go now. 

reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Spinsters do not Need Chaperones (teaser)

Seventeen HHU Regency!AU

Chaperones are for beautiful young girls. A plain older woman like you, with neither fortune nor youth to recommend her, is hardly in danger of losing her virtue. You've long resigned yourself to always being the supporting role in someone else’s romance. 

But could it be that love and marriage have not disappeared entirely beyond your reach? This spinster may capture the heart of an eligible bachelor yet, if only she makes the right choices…

Part 1 Coming on May 13th!

genre: svt hip hop unit x female! reader (alternate endings for each member), regency!au in the vibe of Bridgerton but we keep things PG here.

If you haven't already, see my other regency!au Seventeen fics here

finally catching up after the end of semester

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: mentions of blood

Part XXV | Part XXVII

You woke up with a sudden feeling of cold. You groped the hem of blanket and wrapped it tighter around your body, settling into its warmth. Morning light was still too dim and the room was quite dark, so you turned on the other side. Thinking it was before the sunrise, you closed your eyes contentedly once more.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound so strong that the windows rattled. You jolted awake. Squinting at a small clock on the vanity table in the corner of the room, you found out it was actually almost lunch time. You sat up, feeling slightly disoriented. You'd never slept for so long. As you were putting your thoughts together, you looked down on the empty space on the bed where Tamlin was supposed to be.

You were so used to waking up surrounded by smell of rain that at first you didn't notice he was gone. You ran hand over the already cold sheets and then listened, waiting for any small sound that would give away where he was right now. However, your cottage was quiet, too quiet. With pounding heart you jumped from the bed and ran down the stairs. Kitchen was empty as well as the sitting area. You were all alone. You felt panic creeping on you and flung the front door open.

The gust of strong wind blew strands of loosen hair to your face and wrapped skirt of your nightgown around you legs. You swore, sweeping hair from your eyes. It wasn't raining yet, but the forest was quite dark, heavy clouds flowing above tree crowns. On barefoot you ran to the shed behind the cottage where you dried herbs and stored the vegetable. He wasn't even there.

Lightning lit up the dark forest for a moment, followed by deafening thunder within few seconds. Storm was getting closer.

"Tamlin!" you shouted into the silence of upcoming storm, but the echo bouncing off the trees was the only answer. "Tamlin!"

Memories of the last night flashed across your mind. He was so broken as he confessed his wrongs to you. The look he gave you when he asked you to go sleep together. And just before you fell asleep, he whispered that he liked you. Could it be his last words? His goodbye? Why would he do that now? After months spent with him he was still full of surprises, the train of his thoughts hardly giving you any sense at times.

Anxiety gripped your heart and you dashed into forest, calling his name as you ran. You ignored the downpour that had just started, sticking the wet, cold nightgown and hair to your skin. You didn't even care about thunder shaking trees and ground. You just needed to find him. Your bare feet were covered in mud and blood from small cuts when you finally heard it. You halted turning around, looking for its source.

"Tamlin!" you tried to shout over the roar of the rain.

"Y/N!"

In the distance behind the curtain of rain drops you glimpsed a movement. You didn't wait and ran that way. As the moving shape got closer you recognised his strong shoulders and damp blond hair.

Tamlin ran to you and without stopping swept you into his arms, lifting you from the ground. Meeting his muscular hard body in such a speed was like meeting a wave of tsunami and all bones rattled in your body with the impact, but you never felt happier. You clung to him, suffocating him with your arms around his neck. You sobbed into his shoulder.

"You scared me," he breathed into crook of your neck. He was worried, but also angry for some reason. "Look at you! You're soaked and so freezing cold. What did you think running into this downpour only in thin nightgown?! And during a storm."

"And barefoot!" He added when he noticed your legs. He was furious, but you couldn't care less. He was here, he didn't leave you and only that mattered.

"You are here," you sobbed into his shoulder.

"Of course I am. Where else I would go," Tamlin said much calmer this time. "Let's go home. You will freeze to death."

Only then you realized how cold you were, your teeth chattering. High Lord held you closer, adjusting you in his arms and dashed running. You got quite far from home, yet it took mere minutes and you were back, seated in armchair with blanket around your shoulders. Tamlin added a couple of logs to the hot coals that remained from the morning.

Soon enough the fire crackled in the hearth and room warmed up, but you kept shaking.

"Stand up for me, would you," he murmured.

Without thinking you did as he asked. He crouched down in front of you and started taking off your nightgown.

"What are you doing," you squealed in alarm, stepping out of his reach.

"Obviously, I'm helping you out of this drenched, cold clothes," he raised a brow. Then he blinked and his eyes fell to your chest. Pink tinted his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I didn't.. I wanted-.." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I'll wait there," he nodded his chin to stairs. "Tell me when you are done."

You breathed a sigh of relieve. You waited until he disappeared from sight and immediately threw off cold nightgown. Without examining clothes he brought you, you quickly dressed up and once again slipped under the blanket.

The sweater he brought you was enough big to be a dress, reaching all the way down to you knees. When you sniffed it, you smelled his scent, still very strong. It had to belong to him. You could say it was a warm sweater, however, your teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

Tamlin returned with washbasin in his hands, puffs of steam rising from it. He changed into dry clothes, too, and combed his wet hair into a messy bun on nape of his neck.

"Put your feet in. We need to wash that dirt," he said lowly as he put it down.

You hissed when your feet dipped into the warm water, brittle toes curling. Kneeling in front of you, Tamlin started to gently wash the dirt off of your feet.

"Will you tell me why in rain you ran into forest, dressed only in your nightgown and without shoes?" he asked, his touch healing small scratches and wounds.

You shifted uncomfortably, realizing how foolishly and recklessly you behaved.

"I was looking for you," you grunted under your breath. Emerald eyes moved to your face, searching.

"Why? Something happened?"

"I thought you left," you admitted even more quietly, picking up an invisible dirt from the blanket.

He searched your face once more and then barked with laugher. You frowned at him.

"I'm sorry. It isn't funny, I know. I just.." he panted.

"Why would I leave you now," he spoke softly, when he calmed down. "I just felt the storm coming and because it'll keep pouring for few days, I went hunting. I left you a note." He pointed to the dining table. "I waited quite long, hoping you would wake up, but I wanted to be done before the hell starts, so I had to leave without telling you."

"I-..I didn't notice," you looked back and really, a piece of paper was on the table. "I'm sorry." You blushed.

Tamlin just hummed lowly and dried your feet. Washbasin immediately disappeared, replaced by warm slippers.

"I wanted to ask you this sooner, but.." he moved to the kitchen, preparing mugs for tea. "What happened with your fear of magic? I noticed you don't flinch anymore. It seems you don't even notice it. I saw you doing a small magic, too."

You welcomed the change of topic. "Well, you know that Rhys cured my memory loss. After that.. I don't know.. Suddenly I wasn't so scared. I didn't mind the smell anymore. It just.. puff.. disappeared like that. I guess it's because something else bothered me more."

The rattling of porcelain and rustling stopped for a moment.

"If you need to talk about those things, I'm here," he spoke lowly, his deep voice much softer than ever.

"I know. I really missed this," you sighed.

"You can talk to me about anything that bothers you as well," you offered after a while, when Tamlin handed you steaming mug of tea. He gave you a tight lipped smile. "I mean it. I know I've never asked you about anything before, but.. I'm here to help you."

"You are already helping me." He seated into the other armchair. It hurt a bit that he brushed off your offer so easily, but if he didn't want your help, you wouldn't insist.

For a while you sat in silence, sound of rain and crackling of fire the only sounds in the room. You sipped the tea while watching dancing flames, and thought about the reasons he could have to not believe you with his secrets. The warmth slowly spread to your still cold limbs.

He watched you out of the corner of eye. Suddenly, he stood up, leaving his mug on coffee table between armchairs.

"Can I?"

Before you realized what was happening, he slipped into your armchair and seated you on his lap. You gasped in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"This way it's better," he shrugged and pulling you closer he rested his head on top of yours. His body relaxed. "You need to warm up otherwise you'll catch a cold."

You chuckled nervously. Your heart was beating almost painfully fast, blush spread on your face.

Tamlin's chest also echoed with equally fast and strong thuds. One of his hands started to rub on your arm in a soothing rhythm. His neck bobbed with swallow.

"Last night.. Do you remember what I told you?"

You nodded. How could you forget it when those four words followed you even into your dreams.

I like you too.

Four beautiful words that ignited a spark of hope and this morning thinking that those words were the last ones you heard from him, even managed to scare you.

"Good," his voice trembled slightly.

"I meant it. It took me a long time, and you had to leave, to realize that," he whispered into silent room. "When I thought I won't see you ever again, it hurt. It was excruciating pain. We were just friends, yet it hurt more than when woman I was going to marry, left me for someone else."

A small drop landed on your cheek. You wanted to look up at him, but Tamlin stopped you tightening his embrace.

"Having you this close is all I need to feel better," his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and continued. "I understand if you don't feel the same way. I'm not going to push my feelings upon you. But.. allow me at least stay close to you. That's all I'll ever ask you for."

"Tamlin." You felt your own tears rolling down your cheeks. "How many times do I need to repeat it until you believe me? I had to escape from my overprotective brother, jump with Lucien from high balcony into darkness and let wild beast to almost bite my head off to get here and be with you again. I don't want to live without you."

Tamlin finally let you look at him. His eyes were full of tears, but a small, happy smile twisted the corners of his mouth. Tips of his fingers gently brushed over your face from forehead to your jaw and continued down to your neck and collar bone where your pendant was rested. His shiny gaze moved from your eyes to your lips and back up.

You breathed out shakily in expectation of your first kiss. You wanted him to kiss you, but instead he just squeezed you in another tight hug. You snorted and melted into his chest, listening to his heartbeats. And that's how you spent the most of that day, holding each other and for the first time since you came back, you two openly talked about different things.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning

Tamlin 😭😭😭

Word count: 1800+

Warnings: confusion, jealousy (just in case), but otherwise nothing

Part XIII | Part XV

You opened your eyes. The memories of your childhood that Rhysand revived, swirled in your mind. You were on the verge of tears. Parents. Their faces shone bright in your mind. Beautiful, smiling. How could you forget them? And your older brother, ever so loving, caring and protective. His two best friends. Morrigan. Your friends in camps. And so many others. How could you forget them all?

Old feelings mingled with your current ones. It was a bit overwhelming and confusing. You would definitely need time to process the chaos in your head and heart. You should have stopped him sooner, but once you saw fragments of your past, you wanted more.

Big, warm hand squeezed your right one, drawing small circles with a thumb. You looked in that direction. Azriel was kneeling next to you, his eyes scanning your face with worry. You knew him. You knew him for so long. The comfort and peace you felt with him before, doubled. He was always your support, understanding your feelings more than anyone else.

He was worried about you, so you sent him a small smile, assuring him you are okay. Tension in his face melted away, his eyes watered. Even without words he understood. As always.

You turned to your left where you felt another hand holding yours, but the squeeze was much weaker. Rhysand was half sitting, half lying, his side pressed into backrest of sofa, eyes closed. He was pale. If you didn't see his chest heaved with shallow breaths, you would think the worst.

"Rhys?" Your voice was shaking.

Corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. "It's the first time you called me Rhys since you came."

"Oh, you jerk." You playfully hit his shoulder and then hugged him. He returned the hug without hesitation. "I'm so sorry," you mumbled into his shoulder. "You should have said something."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I am sorry for all you had to go through. Before and especially since you came here. I know it wasn't easy for you."

You didn't say anything to that mainly because your feelings were all out of place.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm, just bit tired. It was harder than I thought."

"Why didn't you say something? We could-"

"It's okay," he stopped you. "I just need to rest. That's all. And you ought to do so too. I bet you have a lot to think about." He rubbed your back.

You were about to offer him helping to get to his room, but he stopped you before you could open your mouth with shake of his head. "Rest. We will talk about everything later."

Gnawing your lower lip you nodded and stood up. Azriel also got up, following you out of the office, silent like a shadow. Once doors closed behind you, you turned to him.

"I'm fine, Az. Really."

"I'll just walk you to your room."

"I can do that," you smiled. "But I'd love to ask you to take care of him. I think he's more exhausted than he admits." Your gaze travelled back to the office doors.

"Okay," he nodded, looking at you curiously. "Now you really remember." Small amused smile played on his lips, but his eyes were full of sadness and something you couldn't place.

You stepped closer, surprising Azriel with an innocent kiss on his cheek. His body went rigid, eyes widened. This was a game you two used to play, when you were younger, always catching him by surprise. Knowing you since you were born, he usually let his guard down around you, which allowed you to get into his personal space easily. You also learnt a few tricks from him.

"I do," you hummed. His fingers touched the place you kissed and he blushed fiercely. Chuckling you turned around and walked away, leaving him gaping at your back.

You'd turned the corner walking to the main hall towards the staircase.

"I don't understand what he sees in you," a sweet voice spoke from your right. There in the doors to the kitchen stood one of Feyre's sisters, Elain, if you remembered correctly.

"Excuse me?" you raised a brow at her, surprised that she spoke to you.

"Since you came everything is only about you," she said, her brows furrowed. "He also has eyes only for you. Even now, why did he have to be by your side?"

"I have no idea what are you talking about. Who's the he supposed to be anyway?" You'd never talked with her, actually hadn't met her properly until now. But you didn't like the way she looked at you.

Elain looked at you with utter disgust and then just simply pivoted, showing you her back and walked away. Stunned you blinked rapidly. You looked around hoping somebody else witnessed this and could explain you her behaviour. Unfortunately you were alone.

"…bitch…" You heard her low voice as she was muttering something in the kitchen.

Frustrated you returned to your room, decided to forget about that weird incident in the hall and rather concentrate on processing all new feelings.

You took a seat in one of the armchairs you became so fond of and gazing out to the garden you slowly roamed through new memories. It felt like finding pieces of puzzle you didn't realise that were missing. The emptiness you had always felt diminished.

It was hard to say how you felt, what you felt toward people who in few hours changed from strangers to well known faces, family. However you knew for sure that the feelings from before living in Spring Court, weren't so intensive anymore. They were still strong, but strangely subdued at the same time. It was confusing and you could only hope that with time it would clear out.

You didn't know when, but your thoughts wandered back to the cottage. And to him. What was he doing now? Did he already forget about you? Suddenly you felt blue. You'd like to talk with him now. It would certainly help you to sort out the things. You reached for the pendant he gave you, hidden under the clothes. It gave you a feeling of the kind of comfort you felt only with him.

Behind shut eyelids you found yourself back in the forest in front of your cottage, Tamlin stood on the threshold, his back to you. As if feeling your presence, he turned around and when his eyes found yours he smiled happily. Tamlin's emerald eyes and golden hair shone in the sunlight filtering through the treetops. It was so peaceful moment. The moment that was interrupted by a knock on the door.

You exhaled shakily, your heart beating too fast. What was that? It was so real that your chest hurt. You rubbed a non-existent wound and when another soft knock sounded, you called out to whoever it was, to enter. Golden brown head peeked in from behind the door. It was Feyre.

"Can I come in? I brought you something to eat."

You nodded, grateful for her care.

"You missed the lunch, so I thought you might be hungry," she said placing tray on a small table. She looked somehow nervous, eyeing the other armchair. You hadn't talked much with your sister-in-law yet, but she seemed to be a kind person. You asked her to sit down with you. The smile she conjured, was dazzling.

"I just wanted to let you know that Rhys is okay or better say, he will be. Azriel helped him to get to the bed, he ate and now he's napping."

"I'm relieved to hear that," you said and to your own surprise, really meant it. Rhysand was your brother, your blood. He mattered. Words that held no meaning yesterday, were so important now. You pushed those thoughts back before you began spiralling and rather focused on Feyre.

"I'm happy you are here," she whispered. "He needed you. Even though he has all of us, he needed you. He might not admit it openly, but since the tragedy that happened to your mother and you, he wished only for one thing: to have both of you back by his side. He was so lonely."

A lump rose in your throat. You were at a loss for words.

Feyre was nervously playing with her fingers. "I understand how he feels and what this means to him, but.. I noticed that you were.. well, you still are unhappy here. It reminds me of how I felt back at Spring.. I tried to convince him to let you go back. Don't take me wrong. I like you and I'd love you to be here, but if this isn't the place you want to be.."

"But he rejected," you noted, swallowing bitterness in your mouth. Feyre nodded.

"Please, don't be angry with him for that. He believes this is the only way how to protect you."

"Are you angry with Tamlin for doing the same?" You eyed her curiously.

She looked into the garden, her gaze wandered unfocused. "At that time I was angry, very angry. Now I kind of understand. It was his way of dealing with his trauma. He was so kind to me before and even to my family. What happened under the mountain broke us all. And what helped one, hurt someone else. Now seeing into Rhys' heart I do understand how Tamlin felt. I hope he will find his happiness, too." Even though Feyre just whispered the last sentence, she meant it.

Now it was your turn to answer, but you couldn't do so right away. Searching how you actually felt about that, your fingers once again found the pendant, playing with it. "I'm not angry," you said after a while. "Now when I have part of my memories back, I think I understand, too."

"But you still want to return," Feyre finished for you. "To him." A gentle smile spread across her face as she watched your fingers. You nodded.

"Do you like him?"

Your eyes widened. For some reason you were embarrassed. Like Tamlin? Yes, you liked him, but Feyre was probably referring to different kind of 'like'. "I- I like his company," you stuttered.

She giggled. "You can be honest with me. It'll remain just between us. I won't tell anyone."

You pulled your knees up to your chest, distressed. Feyre watched you curiously, head tilted to the side, a knowing grin on her face. "He's a good male and very kind. Lucien said that your presence helped him recover."

"The redhead?" you sat up straight. She nodded. So he wasn't lying when he said they were friends.

Feyre pressed her lips together, light amusement was replaced by seriousness. "Although I'm afraid of what happened with him after your abrupt departure."

After that Feyre left, muttering something about food getting cold and necessary rest, leaving you even more confused and on top of it worried.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt