#CONVINCE PARENTS FOR LOVE MARRIAGE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojisteddy · 6 days ago

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Jumping The Gun

or: the one where John Price fucks the idea of marriage into you.

cw: 5.9k words (gawd DAMN), 18+ MDNI, klutz in love!Price, kinda toxic!Price, smut with plot, no use of y/n, dumbification, squirting, p in v, protected & unprotected sex, dubcon, dumbification, creampie, breeding kink, marathon!, water show, cum eating, engagement, reader!has tattoos, reader!is in denial of Egypt, Daddy said a couple times idk, john visuals, reader visuals,

a/n: My Whole Life by Alina Baraz *chefs kiss*

Everyone in the 141 was shocked when John Price came back after taking a month an a half off for leave with a golden ring on his ring finger, a new picture frame to place on his desk, and practically jumping off the roof to fill out more paperwork for a special someone. Again.

You were his third marriage.

John was good at making quick decisions, making up his mind at the exact right time when it was do or die. But the old man was a complete klutz when it came to love.

The first marriage, admittedly, was never gonna last long. He was fresh out of highschool, still in the infantry and married his highschool sweetheart. His parents were sceptical but supportive. It wasn’t uncommon to marry early, hell, his parents did so why couldn’t he?

It just wasn’t in the cards.

The distance and the worry was just too much. The divorce was clean cut since they didn’t have any kids and we’re still young. Him and his ex-wife, Cara, were still fairly close. He’d get a call from the woman and her husband (surprisingly) to come over for dinner every once in a while. No bad blood.

But that second marriage? John was a goddamn idiot.

Was it his fault he married with his eyes and not with his brain? Yes. A man is still a man at the end of the day. You see a woman with an amazing set of knockers on her, pretty blue eyes, skinny waist and blonde hair— you’d fall for it too!

She was obnoxious, loud, and always, always, always needed new clothes, shoes, hair and nails done. Now John had no problem spending on his woman, he’d bring down Jupiter if had to. The problem was she complained and whined. Complained about the clothes not being ‘high quality enough,’ the house not being big enough, the brand new convertible not pink enough. Whined when she went over the already pricey budget the man set for her, that she couldn’t spend his life savings on her, that John was too hairy, ran too warm, too tall—no fucking sense.

He got out of the marriage by the scrape of his teeth, lucky that his siblings convinced him to get a prenup. She left with no pounds to her name, shoving all her belongings in that hot pink convertible and crying that no money went to her when the captain had sold the house.

But you? Oh you. His honey, sweet girl, little wanderer— you were the real deal.

John was walking with a couple friends heading to some bar a few hours after being back in the UK. You were walking the opposite direction, bags from different stores after a day of shopping in your hand. You looked like a model, long black trench coat on, a fitted baby blue crop top, black leather shorts that showed off the tattoos that went down your legs, slouched heeled boots that went mid calf. Curls blowing in the wind, you thankfully hadn’t noticed the hairy fellow till you bumped into him.

“You alright?”

Your brown eyes met his blue ones as he steadied you upright. You were awe struck, as if you were meeting a famous person on the street but you had just ran into a good looking older, muscular, brunette with a few stray grey hairs. You slowly started nodding, laughing aloud at yourself at how dumb you probably looked. “ ‘M just fine.” You said breathlessly.

You started to hear the passing cars, bustle of the streets and the murmur from your phone as your friend on the line was calling out to you. “Shit, I-I gotta go.”

And your feet was guiding you away without another word but your eyes were still glued to the man as you walked away. Looking back as he watched you walk away. You chuckles as you got back on the phone with your friend, disappearing into the croud.

The second time he saw you he was heading for a tea, as he walked past ‘Walker Travel Agency.’ John glanced inside and there a woman sat— no— you, sat turning in your chair towards the computer as you spoke to someone through your Bluetooth. You were dressed in an oversized white button up, black slacks, hair now pin straight in a low ponytail, pinned back by a few purple clips with very a light blush on your cheeks.

Even dressed casually, you were a sight for sore eyes. He tried his best not to look like a creep as he finally went to go get his tea but his eyes were glued to you as he walked past the office again. He figured it was fine just this once. Twice, three times— okay, maybe a forth that was completely out of the way of the military base and his own home but this was fine.

He was just getting tea after all.

But the forth time you stood by the water cooler sipping water, you caught those blue eyes. A small smile formed on your face as he tripped a bit once he saw you finally looking back at him. You gave him a small, shy wave with your fingers before he completely passed the building. Your angelic smile growing wider as he passed the building again to get to his car.

And that continued for another week, waves and smiles and stupid blushes that made his heart jump outs until he finally got the courage to pop his head in. He’d just say hello, this was a silly crush. Nothing more, nothing less.

The doorbell chimed once the door opened and you immediately sat straight in your chair, as you were trained to do when a potential customer came in.

“I was thinking of a trip?”

No he wasn’t. He knew that, you knew that by the way he was completely dressed in military attire and kept staring at you instead of the posters of different vacation spots on the wall. But you nodded your head, gesturing for him to take a seat in front of your desk.

“Where would you like to go sir?”

You two hit it off after that. John would pop his head in, leaving thirty minutes before his lunch break even started just to get his little dose of you, before running off to get a tea. You even started making tea so he didn’t have to go to the coffee shop.

Right, it was his lunch break?

You’d made sure to start packing lunch for two and arranging meetings so your lunch break was suddenly at the same time as his. You didn’t know why you did it for your new friend, it just felt right. You made that forty something year old man feel like a teenager again, he couldn’t just sit on this crush forever. He wouldn’t.

*Care to join me for a pint after work?*

A simple text that he’d debated on for two days had him flushed.

*new message*

Don’t usually drink beer :(

Two days down the drain. Maybe he should’ve asked for dinner instead? Or a movie? A walk? Too fucking causal—

*new message*

but if you’re the one asking, how can I say no?

text me where baby :))

Gaz had to make sure he wasn’t sick before he left work that day because he was as red as a cherry tomato.

You laid it out clean to John that you weren’t ready for a relationship.

“ ‘M too flighty ya see.”

“How so?” You two had already been in the crowded pub at a booth, you’d been chatting for 3 hours already senselessly. One pint for each of you, you weren’t good with beer while John just didn’t wanna make a drunken mistake.

“I told you I’ve just been here for a year, right?”

He hummed, nodding for you to continue.

“Well I was in Brazil before that, Osaka for a couple months before that. DR, LA and France before all that.”

“Oh, you’re a real traveler I see.”

“More than you.” You smirked and John laughed, “Think you can beat me sweetheart? Been all over the world ‘nd back. Thrice over.”

You teased, “I can beat’cha soon enough, just wait on it.” You sighed, picking up your half empty glass to take a sip, “But really, a relationship right now is a no-can-do for me. I’d hate to waste yer time after you’ve been so kind t’me honey.”

“Not a single moment with you has been a waste’ve time, believe me [+].” It was gentle but stern, your fingers brushed over the table which made your heart race faster.

John was too sweet, sinkingly so. It made you question how his marriages didn’t work sometimes but you kept your mouth shut about it. You gave him a smile, “I wouldn’t mind bein fuck buddies though.”

His thick eyebrows furrowed together, “Oh John come on now, you ain’t that old!”

Friends who fucked, he knew what it was. But with you? Someone that he’d grown to care for? This was a line he preferred not to cross.

But damn, those brown eyes under the dim light, the mid length blow out that went just below your shoulders, your long sleeve flared blouse that showed off your cleavage just right, wasn’t helping. He hadn’t even realized he’d given you a ‘sounds good to me’ before you gave him an okay and went on to another topic as if you two hadn’t just agreeded to be sex partners.

The night came to a close around 10:50, John didn’t want you at the station by yourself late at night since you were a woman so he took you home.

“I’m a grown woman, John.” You insisted for the thousandth time.

“Yer a grown woman that ‘m drivin home. Exactly. Yer right.” John nodded along with you nonchalantly and you groaned into a giggling fit, no longer being able to fight with him over this.

You pulled up to your apartment and pointed out a parking spot, John followed suit. Thinking you’d probably rather get out of a parked car than hold up traffic on a Friday night.

You got out the car, looking between your apartment building and the older man.

“You wanna come up?”

John fucking Price was a god damn problem.

The first time you two fucked, was just to dip your toes in. See if the older man could handle you, keep up with what you were up to.

The second time was for good measure. You had to make sure it wasn’t an illusion! Get your bearings in order.

The third time— looking back you should’ve known that’s when he caught you. And I mean really had you for good because you’d be damned if he was fucking some other girl the way he was fucking you.

You had to have a cordial briefing with your friend group, explaining to them how you were now a born again Christian because John didn’t just have you seeing stars. No— you saw Jesus resurrecting from the tomb, legs shaking as they were wrapped around his hips. Chest to chest, as John knelt on the bed, fucking up into you through your orgasm. You’d pushed yourself away from him but he snatched you up just before you passed out.

“Stay with me lovie, can’t have you passin out on me can I?” His pink lips connected with your neck again. Your entire body was trembling. This fool, this barbarian, loooved making you a dummy on his dick. You’d learned that the second time. But this time, fuck, it was strange.

“Strange, baby, it feels- mmph s-strange.” You mumbled through a moan, you were limp as he held onto your waist with one arm, bouncing you just the way he needed you to. He was practically using you as a sex toy and you hadn’t minded. You were drooling on his shoulder and down your own face and that freak kept lapping it up. Opening your mouth so he could spit it back in you and suck on your tongue.

“Your tight little cunt squeezing me so good. You love when I suck your tongue, don’t you pretty?”

Your eyes were rolling into each other again, “loooove it sooooo much Daddy.”

“Come on, kiss me while I give it to you.” He didn’t have to tell you twice to get your lips to latch onto his. John kissed so romantic like, slow, desperate— like he was trying to mold the two of you together and you loved it. John’s thrusts got fast, barley pulling out with every swing of his hips up into your tight walls. But he kept hitting your g-spot, clit rubbing right at the bottom of his hairy abdomen. It felt amazing— too amazing—

You yankied yourself away from him again, “wait! ‘M serious- J- fuuuck- John! It’s too weird! I’m- shit- ‘m gonna pee!”

“ ‘S not pee, let it go.” He gruffed, groaning at how good you felt around his swelling cock.

“It isssss!” You whined out, slapping at his arms but he wouldn’t let up.

“Come on sweet girl, squirt all over me. Wanna be covered in you.”

And the crash came, water works flying every which way and your eyes. John came right after you, babbling about how good you were, how amazing you felt around him. But you were crying real tears now, you swore you just peed all over this older man’s thighs even though you told him it was weird. It was humiliating.

“I told you I was gonna pee, ‘nd you didn’t listen!” You hiccuped, covering your face as John laid you back on the bed. He’s eyebrow lifted as he slipped out of you, removing the filled condom and examining the situation that was now on his pudgy stomach, his thighs, your legs and the bed.

“Sweetie,” he started chuckling at how cute were being, you shoved one of your wobbly legs at his chest. It didn’t do any damage. “Have you never squirted before?”

“No,” you sniffled, “ ‘s just pee!”

“ ‘S not the same thing lovie.”

“Yes it issss!” You retorted, going to kick him again but your own leg giving up on you.

John rubbing your thighs as he got inbetween them. Your pussy was glistening in the rooms light, too mesmerized, he let the pads of two fingers take a swipe of all the juices that sat on your vulva and putting it in his mouth. He moaned at the taste.

You gasped, “John!” You hadn’t meant to see the sight through your fingers but shit, it was making you even more wet. The older saw you squirm, shaking his head, he needed a front row seat this time. He lifted your thighs over his shoulders so his mouth was right in front of your cunt.

“Gotta feel it on my tongue baby, won’t you? Please?”

You two went on like that, calling each other whenever you needed. You were always the first to know when the Captain got home, before his own family, because he’d have his fat cock in you by the time you could finish saying ‘welcome back.’

John couldn’t lie and say it was inconvenient getting to let off steam other than exercising or taking a swing of bourbon. It didn’t help that you were actually such a sweet girl, he loved being around. You two would hang out when you had the chance, going out and about or just watching a movie at home. When you were out, all dolled up in a mid thigh, navy blue sun dress and white heels showed off those gorgeous legs, curls in a high ponytail— you two looked like a sugar daddy and a sugar baby. But you never cared about the looks people gave you, you’d grab his larger hand in yours that was freshly manicured with long soft yellow nails and swing your hands back and forth. Even taking the time to introduce the man properly when you ran into your friends on the street.

“He’s a real carin, smart and just all around incredible guy I swear,” Your eyes would beam at him, so longingly then back to your friends and back to John because you always found yourself getting lost in his pretty ocean blue eyes. “I’m real thankful to have met a man like him.”

How could he have not fallin for you?

It was when you and John accidentally ran into his parents while casually hanging out in his home town he knew he just had to marry you.

You were as charismatic as ever, your southern charm easily pulling them in. John thought for sure they’d be more careful since you were younger than the past two women that John brought to meet them. But despite how eccentric you looked in your shorts that hung off your hips, waist beads around your stomach, crop top and the tattoos that his parents generation definitely weren’t used to, layered necklaces and bracelets— they easily fell for you just like he did.

“You sure ‘bout takin them out for lunch, [+]? You don’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“It’s only right to treat the folks who raised you John. They’ve done well with you, ‘nd ‘m sure your siblings ‘re just as kind. Plus I kinda wanna see more of your smile through your mom. It’s sooo fuckin cute.”

Yup.

That was right there confirmed, he was gonna put a ring on that fuckin finger. He could’ve blurted it out while at that quaint little lunch you had. His parents adored you, even got your number down to give you a call if you needed anything while you were still in the UK.

The man was gonna get you to stay in the UK.

The first time he’d asked, it was too fucking casual. Again, the man was always too eager. Tripping and falling through love was a bad habit of his. You’d laughed in his face.

“John, baby, please be serious.” You threw your braids up in a ponytail, tip toeing around the room to get your clothes. John did that on purpose, the old man always wanted a little more time with you, to see the sunrise kissing your skin perfectly as that after glow of sex looked gorgeous on you.

He’d pout under that thick beard, fuckin precious bear, “ ‘M bein serious. Want us t’get married, be happy.”

“Don’t you leave next week John?”

“So?”

You deadpanned, “John.”

Okay, he was too eager that time. He should’ve thought it though. Right, you deserved proper proposal planning. Not some random after sex question. You made your way over to that big guy, he was still naked, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor. You bent over, that same gleam in your brown eyes that shown every time you looked at him. He could’ve fuckin melted right then and there as you placed your hands on his knees, leaving a long a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

“You call me if ya need anything John. I mean it, even if it’s those fuckin cookies-“

“—Biscuits—“

“—Whateverrr~” you giggled, lightly touching his beard as John took your waist in his hands. Shit, he’d miss you. Miss your kindness, your willingness to drop everything for him, those long lashes that fluttered when you woke up. “I’ll send ‘em yer way, letter ‘f course too. Whatever ya need, John, you let me know.”

With the softest kiss on the lips, you were on your merry way just as you usually were.

The second time John proposed, he did it right.

He had a proper ring. Simple, because you loved simple. The box was in his pants pocket the entire night, itching to get out. You went to a nice fancy dinner to a place you swore you’d only told him once about, took you for a nice stroll, your curls in a half up, half down, dress hugging you just right and John was in a dressy casual. Ultra simple, classic. He was sure he’d get a yes this time.

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to get on he knee before you’d grab his hands. Your bottom lip trembling.

“Sweetheart…”

“Need you tuh listen t’me baby, please.” You pleaded, tears already threatening to burst out like a dam.

“Now I care ‘boutcha so much John. So much that I hate myself fer puttin you in a situation like this.” You sniffled, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

“But ya can’t marry me.” John lamented.

“John—“

“—what is it then? Is it the age gap? I thought you’d gotten over it.”

“John-“ “-clothes? I’ll give it to you. Want me to shave? Done. Love? I’ve got multitudes. If it’s money- it’s yours.” He was racking his brain for something, anything that could’ve draw you to keep him near.

“I don’t want your money John.” You cursed.

“Then what do you want?! Why can’t I give it to you?!”

“I want your happiness above all else John! But I can’t-“ your voice croaked. You let go of his hands, “I can’t give that back to ya. I know I can’t.”

“Tha’s a fuckin lie—“

“—I’m sorry John. Truly.”

Without another word, you’d ran off. Your heals clicking against the pavement, cries heard through the silent park.

You’d known John for a year but technically only about 5 months since he was away for the other seven. But you knew so much about him, he’d send letters whenever he could, call, text and be right with you when he was back because it ‘felt like the place he needed to be’. It wasn’t a shock that John had grown to love you, it was a shock that you’d grown to love him too.

It scared the living shit out of you.

So you did what you always did.

Move.

It never took you long, you always had a storage unit ready, a few cardboard boxes in the back of your closet, a new job to hire you in another country because you always knew a little bit of the language. But this time you didn’t move far enough, you didn’t have to heart to. If John were to call you right now, you would’ve dropped what you were doing and ran to him.

Which is why you blocked him on everything (even though he didn’t use social media that often).

You moved yourself to the countryside, in a much smaller apartment but in a much quieter town by the sea. You were working the front of a fish market, did you know about fish? No. Did they hire you because you were pretty and your endless list of credentials at other random places on your resume? Yes. You didn’t have a problem with blending right in, building peoples trust with ease.

It was a good and bad habit.

John on the other hand was loosing his mind because he didn’t know where the hell you were. He couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you, and you weren’t replying to his letters. Fuck, the man called his parents and they managed to get an answer but only vague answers.

He’d come to you flat after being away, rushing through (but properly taken care of) a mission because he needed to make sure you were alright. As he rung thr buzzer, he got no answer. He was lucky one of your neighbors came out and told him what had happened.

How could you have moved without telling him, of all people?

It hurt him more than anything to have a mishap like that happen and then not be able to contact you. But to move? With no explanation?

He could play cat and mouse.

He’d play it constantly in the 141, taking down terrorists and the like in less than a couple weeks— you’d be an easy find. He was sure of it.

He’d found you soon enough, a couple days, in that god damn fish market, a wide smile on your face as you talked to the multiple people who crowded the stall where you worked. Why were you working here of all places?

He ignored the growing concerns, joining the line of customers at the stall. Most of the customers having something to say to you and you encouraging more conversation as they made their orders and paid. Then it was his turn. He took a step forward and you looked up at him like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart dropped out of your ass. He looked to the fish that sat on display on ice, then to you and titled his head.

“When do you get off?”

“John-“

“-When.” The older man spoke tightly. It came out more like a statement than a question.

The lady who worked with you, Malissa, chimed in with a knowing smile, “Give ‘er an hour.”

Your eyes widened at the older woman whilst John gave her a pleased look, “I’ll be around.” John left the building and you felt your stomach turn over. You glared at Malissa and she laughed at you, “But it’s love, isn’t it [+]?”

Was it that obvious?

Couldn’t have been. As if the blush showed on your brown cheeks. You gave him the same smile you did everyone else, didn’t you? The same kindness, same glances you snuck, soft touches, and the same brushing of fingers. The way you held onto that man’s arm as you presented him to your friends like a trophy, you did the same to anyone else you admired, right? Right?

No fucking way you did. John was the one, well, situation you fully committed to head first. And you didn’t even know when that happened, you liked the thought of someone romantically caring for you, the kindness and joy that was always a package deal when being in that guys presence. Someone that took you and your hopes and dreams serious for once in your life.

Oh God, you were in deep love with John Price.

You could’ve been thrown across the field by your own heart pounding so loud when you walked out of the market. John sitting on the bench, cigar between his fingers, watching the passersbyers and then at you. He stood, nodding for you to follow him in some direction.

“Let’s take a walk.”

The tension was too damn high. You could feel it through the air as you too walked, the only sound being made was the sound of you feet on pavement, the jingle of keys, the sea in the distance. Your curls were probably a mess now, the cold air blowing every which way.

“How’ve you been?” You tried cutting through the ice, eyes finding anything else to look at.

John paused for a moment, a sigh coming out, “I didn’t think you hated me enough to block me [+].”

You winced, as if it pained you to hear those words alone. “I could never hate you John.”

“Then why-“ another frustrated sigh, “You switched jobs to avoid me!”

You squinted your eyes, “Why would you wanna see me after that John!? There was nothing more to say. I was trying to make your life easier!”

“And why would life be easier without you?” His eyebrows furrowed, hand on his hip. He kept rubbing his face.

You opened your mouth to say something, try to get out of the mess you made but nothing would come out. John wanted to laugh at this but it’s not like it would be genuine. Scoffing, he flicked the end of the cigar to the ground. You were like a Hurricane, create a mess to keep people away but right at the center, there was a serene calm. Only soft winds. You didn’t know what you were doing with yourself. John, saw that.

“I’ll take you home.”

“I can walk from here though.”

John gently took your hand in his, looking down at you with sincerity in his blue eyes. “You know how I feel about you bein alone like this. Let me take you home.”

It didn’t take much convincing, it was just a short 5 minute drive from the hills you stood now to your flat. John opened the door to the car for you, making sure you were safely tucked in before slamming it shut and getting in the drivers side. He drove off, down to the main road but then passed the street you had pointed out.

“Where we going?”

“Home.”

“But my place is-“

“—[+], please.” His jaw was clenched, gripping the wheel and your thigh. “You hate it so much, you yell to the rooftops that ya hate me. Despise every breath I breathe. I’ll stop right now.”

Like you would. You huffed, crossing your arms and looking out the window.

John didn’t get irritated easy. Patience was a vertue, that’s what his parents told him all the time. After two marriages you’d think the man would’ve learned by now.

But the man was starving for you, aching to have you say you were his and he was yours after all this and you still not knowing what you wanted— he’d make the decision for you.

You would be his wife and you two were getting married.

The thought of John being mean hadn’t crossed your mind once.

John Price who was usually so gentle, tapping your thigh so you could move yourself in whatever position he wanted you in, grabbing pillows so it would be easier on you, always checking if you were alright every take you reached you high.

That was not the John you were dealing with right now. He was manhandling however he wanted, both hands on your ass cheeks, legs over his arms, slamming you up and down on his cock and letting you cum over and over. Till he had enough of you in that position and fucked you right on the floor, your back getting carpet burn in front of the bedroom door that you didn’t get the chance to close.

And fuck, you thought it was heavenly before, him raw was otherworldly. You felt every ridge, every vein, every twist of his throbbing manhood, every once of precum that made your walls even wetter than they already were.

“Gonna fill you up-“

“—John- mmm- you can’t-“

He grunted, swatting your hands that tried to push him away.

“Gonna fill ya up like a good husband should,” the man’s nodding at his own words, already pussy drunk. But he was speaking words that he’s held back for months. “gotta getcha ready for when we have a baby.”

You hiccuped, John was talking crazy. A baby? A marriage? With John? And he’s whispering it all in your ear. This was tooooo much— too full—

“John i-it’s too deep! I- shit- gimmie a second—“

He pouted, fucking pouted, as if he didn’t know he was pushing his fat, veiny, cock to the fucking hilt of you. Your ankles somehow at the back of your head, “Can’t ya see it baby? You, waddlin around with our baby inside you-“ John hissed, you just kept clenching around him perfectly everytime he thrusted into his “-In a new house- haaah— after we broken it in ‘f course. Gotta break it in for good- fuckin- measure. Little ones running around, an office for daddy ‘nd a office for mummy— It’ll be perfect.”

You didn’t even realize you were cumming, your ears were just ringing, cunt contracting around Johns dick like you were aching for it.

You’d never in your life had a man cum inside you, but my God. John, this old barbarian, was gonna get you addicted to each and every single shot of cum that came from his leaking tip that reached inside your deepest place.

“Fuck, gotta give you another baby.”

John was determined to fuck you into delerium, you’d pass out after cumming so much and wake up to John sucking his cum out of you. Water breaks? The older man is sipping it and putting it in your mouth. Felt stuffy in the bedroom? No problem, John’s moving you to the bathroom to fuck you there with your leg propped up on the bath tub, the wall in the hallway looked like it was missing your face being pressed into it as John drilled you from behind.

Hungry? John’s feeding you whatever he cooked up the thirty minutes he’d left your bruised pussy alone, and then having you cock warm him in the fucking kitchen. All while kissing all over you, how you were such a pretty wife on his dick.

“We gonna get married John?” You slurred out, sticking your thumb in his mouth then sticking it in yours and moaning at the taste. Sweet.

You were fucked out, if the man said he was gonna max out your cards right now he could’ve. But you were, in fact, his finance. Right then and there, no one could convince you otherwise.

“S-Say that again sweetheart?”

You gripped the back of his neck your your hand, getting him to look at you head on, pecking his lips once. Twice. Three times, “You said you’d make me your wife, you’d really do that John? Make me a wife? Won’t get tired of me?”

“Oh birdie, h-how could I ever get tired of you? I-I’m in love you you.”

“Really? I love- I love yooouu John.” Your hips practically rolled on their own, the captain throwing his head back against the headboard for dear life.

“Fuck mee lovie— whatever you want, whateverrr you fucking want.” His hands found your hips, guiding you just the way you needed to get off. Slow, mean— loving.

“G-god, so amazin, amazin John! Wan’ a chapel wedding -ngghh- You, me, some rings and that fuckin preist,”

“ ‘F course baby, course.” John was stammering out words, he could barley keep up now. Fuck, rings. Those fucking rings— “wait baby, gimmie a second.”

“But John,” you keened, hating the idea of being apart for even a millisecond. Oh you’d be the death of that old man. And he wouldn’t’ve minded dying in your sopping cunt knowing you wanted to marry him.

He’d marry you from hell if he had to.

He reached out to the nightstand, an arm hooked around your waist to keep you close as you sloppily rode him, fumbling to grab the black box he placed there yesterday.

Some how he managed to get that box open, two golden rings sat inside. He grabbed yours, tossing the box to the side and slipping the ring on the proper finger.

“Oh! It’s sooo pretty John!” You moaned, eyes stuck to the ring, heart eyes practically forming in your pupils as you looked at the man who was balls deep inside you.

“Come on wife, you know how to cum for your future husband don’t you?”

“You keep looking at it.”

“ ‘S just so nice John.”

It was a single gold ring that fit your finger perfectly, the matching one that you asked to put on John once woke you up. You two were completely knocked out after two days of going at it like animals. You couldn’t feel your legs and your voice was an inch off from being shot. But you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You loved being engaged, you loved John, and you loved the thought of a future with him.

“You wanna have a small wedding, don’t you?” John entangled your fingers together, his other hand caressing your thighs. The sunshine was shining through the window of the dim room.

“I’d prefer if it was just you ‘nd me. We can do somethin with your family later. I-I think it’ll be real intimate ‘f it’s just us. Like the movies-“

The older man’s eyes crinkled, “Oh, so you’ve thought about it?”

You scuffed, “I’d be silly not to think about marryin you at least once, John.”

Price opened his mouth, feeling more than shy at his grown age. He stuttered, “No take backs, alright? You gotta marry me now.”

You hooked your ring finger with his John’s matching one, giving it a quick kiss.

“No take backs.”

a/n: it’ll be a miracle if anyone even reads all this. if you did, leave me a message or comment if you liked it or if you hated it pls I wanna hear your thoughts.

#tojisteddy presents #john price x y/n #john price smut #cod smut #price x y/n #captain john price #john price x reader #price cod #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #call of duty #john price #john price cod #toxic!price #john price fanfiction #cod x reader #black reader #modern warfare

3K notes · View notes

ikeuverse · 6 months ago

Text

to believe | sjy

pairing: ex!jake x fem!reader genres: angst, smut, fluff wc: 15.4k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : argument, swearing, mention of cheating, fights, brief description of a physical fight, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), nipple play, cumming inside. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you have the mission of being godmother at your brother's wedding, but the only obstacle is sharing it with his best friend, and your ex-bf who you're sure cheated on you, jake sim.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : one of the many stories i have saved for my jake. it was supposed to be short, but i can't, i always get carried away writing it! i hope you enjoy it.

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

“I don't believe it” you said, a sigh of weariness and discontent coming from your lips when your brother's voice informed you of this.

You had known that he and Josie would get married from the moment they got engaged in their last year of high school. Heeseung was completely in love with your best friend and you, being a great person, encouraged the two of them to get together. But what frustrated you wasn't the wedding itself, or the responsibility you had been given as a bridesmaid, but the fact that it would all be shared with Jake Sim, Josie's brother and, ironically, your ex-boyfriend.

It would be a blessing to have his friendship after the two of you broke up because, after all, both families would be united one way or another. But the break-up hadn't been pleasant at all and, after a year apart, any interaction between you and Jake was cause for friction. If you were in a cartoon, sparks would surely fly from the two of you every time you were in the same room.

“Come on Y/n, Jake is my best friend and Josie's brother” Heeseung sighed too, putting on a pout that almost had you convinced of the proposal “It was obvious that he would be best man with you at our wedding.”

Your brother was right and you knew it from the start. Since before you and Jake broke up. When Heeseung and Josie talked about marriage in college, saying that the two of you would be the best man because it was perfect that you were both also dating. A coincidence that life provided. Your best friend dating your brother and you dating your best friend's brother. But since things weren't that simple for you, only Josie was happy now.

“Can't you and she, I don't know, just have more than one best man?” your eyes wandered over to your brother who was trying to maintain a relaxed posture, his body slumped nonchalantly on the sofa at your parents' house. Where you and he got together every weekend for lunch or just to pass the time in your hectic lives without any contact during the week “I'd love to be a bridesmaid to Jungwon, for example.”

“He'll be one of the godparents, of course” Heeseung smiled at you, although his gaze was on the large television that was playing some program that your brother could barely pay attention to “But your mission and Jake's are much greater because, well… You'll be our witnesses.”

It was a more than important title. Witnessing their union from the beginning, seeing them sign the papers and then exchange vows, it was all so beautiful.

“That's not the problem” he sighed so loudly that it was only at that moment that Heeseung stopped staring at the television so that he could look in your direction “It's that I'm going to have to go after practically everything for you and Josie together with Jake.”

“A great opportunity for you two to talk and finally understand each other” he said without thinking, regretting it at the exact moment he felt a pillow fly at his head “Ouch! What the fuck, Y/n?”

“You're defending him again!”

“I'm just telling you to really listen to him” Heeseung protected himself from another pillow to the head, holding it in the air before you could even hit him “Jake wouldn't be able to do that. Even more so with you.”

Even more so with you. Why did your brother insist on defending Jake? As if you were dumb enough to have gone to meet him in the locker room before the friendly match and, unfortunately, found a bra in his locker that wasn't yours. You didn't even wear pink bows on the bulge, it was too cute. Only someone wore that kind of outfit, showing off to everyone who had the chance. So it was easy to associate Jake, the captain of the university soccer team, with the slutty cheerleader you grew to hate even more.

Both Heeseung and Josie were forbidden to talk about it, to defend Jake in your presence, or to make you talk to him after you decided to end it all. It could have been completely childish of you not to listen to him, to throw your bra at Jake and utter the last words you could, looking deep into those brown eyes you had once come to love.

“I hate that I loved you” Jake didn't think it would hurt more than the accusation of betrayal, even though he hadn't even had the chance to say anything. Your voice was like a deep cut, bigger than any injury he had once felt playing soccer.

After that day you saw Jake Sim as the biggest traitor in history and the person you had all the bad feelings for. Even if the words had to be a little more restrained in the presence of family or when you decided to omit all the bad things that happened, saying that the break-up was because you wanted to take a trip abroad. The trip happened, and spending almost eight months in Madrid was able to clear your head.

Being away from Jake and everything that involved him and your family – which was now his too – helped you to cope a little with the distance. But you came back so quickly with the news of your brother's wedding that the last few months since your arrival in Madrid have all ended in arguments, or you and Jake swearing at each other until you can't take it anymore.

You could say you felt physical pain just being in his presence because you knew it was inevitable that you wouldn't have a single argument. Did he feel entitled to feel resentful and hurt by something he had done? And did Jake get irritated by the way you got angry without even giving him a chance to explain properly? Jake would never do that, but your mind and your eyes told you otherwise. You didn't want to listen to him, you didn't want to live with him. Perhaps living in Madrid after your brother's wedding could be an almost real thought, although you would never be able to leave your family in the long term.

“Y/n” Heeseung called out, taking you out of your thoughts as he held your hand. The gentle, comforting touch that only your older brother could provide “I know this situation will always be bad for you and him, but—” he squeezed your hand lightly “Can you do this for me and Josie? Please?”

The pleading voice was an extremely low game that Heeseung played with you to get what he wanted, but at that moment you felt vulnerability. You felt that he really wanted you to accept because it went beyond anything between you and Jake. It wasn't on purpose that he and Josie had done this, after all, you and Jake were the brothers of the bride and groom anyway. You both had to be at that wedding one way or another.

Squeezing Heeseung's hands back, you let out a low sigh. Your eyes wandered over his face as you saw hope run through the boy's eyes. It didn't seem like he was older than you and about to get married.

“All right, I'll try” you said at last, watching Heeseung's smile widen even more.

“Thanks Y/n, you're the best sister in the world” he bent down to kiss your cheek, releasing your hands to get up from the sofa.

“I'm the only sister you've got, asshole. I have to be the best!” you protested.

Heeseung's laughter echoed down the corridor to the kitchen, where he had disappeared. Surely he was going after some dessert to share with you while jabbering on about some wedding details he hadn't stopped talking about for a second since you showed up.

Your break-up wasn't an entirely amicable affair between the two of you. Your mind and heart were convinced that Jake had cheated on you, although you had never seen him get so worked up trying to explain that it would never happen. His hands gripping his hair as he paced the room, stuttering or not finishing a sentence because you didn't want to hear it. Part of you knew that denial came because you didn't want to hear anything from him and have to go back on what you saw, but another part still kept the image of that pink bow bra inside his locker in the changing room vivid.

But for your family, the break-up had gone smoothly. You both agreed to make up some excuse, after all, you'd still have to deal with each other for the rest of your lives because now Heeseung and Josie were getting married. There was no way you could avoid Jake or he could avoid you. His closest friends knew what had happened, two of Jake's best friends besides Heeseung and Susan, your other best friend along with Josie. Even though your anger towards him still remained, you didn't want others to think the wrong thing about you and Jake. Sparing you explanations or embarrassment. Even sparing you from remembering that day.

Living in a small – and false – harmony while being close to your family or anyone else who didn't know what actually happened. That's why the two of you were together in the party store at that moment.

Being appointed best man was something Jake knew would happen, ever since Heeseung confessed that he was going to propose to Josie a month before they finished university. Jake didn't want to be selfish by seeing his best friend in love while he was on the brink of ruin because, in addition to breaking up with you, he had just learned that you were going to another country. Maybe that was a good thing after all. Having you away would help him think and even try to find some way to get you to listen to him. Jake wouldn't give up on making you listen to him, even if it took years, he would make you hear the whole truth.

Looking around with a small sigh, he returned to the present moment. Staring at some baskets that he couldn't tell the material of. Wicker, bamboo or straw? Were those ropes really woven together, one by one?

“What have you got on your list?” your voice snapped him out of his reverie and made Jake look quickly in your direction. Trying to concentrate on your serious face, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down at his notes.

He reached for the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans, opening what was already all but crumpled. While you had a notebook between your fingers, he had a piece of paper.

Typical Jake Sim, he knew you'd say that out loud if you were still together. And if you were together, you'd roll your eyes playfully and walk over to him, pick up the piece of paper, and throw it away, because his notes would be in your notebook too. And that would make you lean over and kiss him on the lips ever so sweetly, mumbling something about how Jake was a bit disorganized about it and that Josie had the craziest big brother in the world.

“Jake” you called him, almost whispering.

“Sorry” he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was happening. Rolling his eyes at the words Josie had said a few hours ago, he hastily jotted them down on the piece of paper he was holding “I have some fabrics she asked me for and about three types of flowers for the bouquet and table arrangements.”

“Really?” you walked over to him, leaning close enough to see the piece of paper. Jake held his breath for a few seconds so as not to inhale your perfume, but if he didn't breathe, he would surely die. Then you slowly let out your breath while looking at the top of your head “Do they both think we're ceremonialists?”

“Maybe so” Jake said quietly “but from what Josie said, it's because they both trust us so much that we chose this so carefully.”

They were words she would say. Trusting you and Jake to choose the small details without giving them into the hands of someone she's never seen. Even more so Josie, who had always planned her wedding down to the smallest detail since she was fifteen, back when she hadn't even dreamed of falling in love with Lee Heeseung.

“Which of these three do you think is Josie's favorite?” your eyes searched Jake's after reading the paper. At that moment, neither of you wanted to face each other with such intensity, so close together. But you didn't know that approaching him to read the list would result in being so close. Walking away abruptly at that moment would have been rude, although you had never cared whether it was like that or not with Jake.

He looked at you. Really looked. As he had done ever since he'd seen you for the first time, and it made you feel strange inside. You wanted to think that maybe it was the nervousness of being alone with him after such a long time, being assigned to tasks like being a bridesmaid.

“Dahlia?” he said.

“Was that a question?” you asked him back, raising an eyebrow when you saw the uncertainty in Jake's voice.

“Come on, she's your best friend.”

“And she's your sister.”

“So what?” Jake asked “I don't know what her favorite flower is, Y/n. I don't even know about flowers.”

A big lie, Jake understood. In parts. When the two of you started dating, he did a lot of research on the internet about flowers and their meanings, finding out about the orchid and what it represented. When he bought you your first bouquet of orchids, reciting why he had done it, that was when Jake saw you cry with joy and love for the first time since you two started dating.

And it was from that day on that you both called the orchid the flower of your relationship.

“Yes, you do” you whispered so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want him to hear. For him to understand that you were thinking practically the same thing as him.

Having that moment of a few hours without a single argument was the result of many requests and practically an engaged couple begging you and Jake not to jump on each other for the sake of the wedding that was yet to take place. Josie knew you well enough to know your limits around Jake, just as she also knew how her brother would cope with being in your presence for so long. It had to be perfect, and it wouldn't be something from your and Jake's old relationship that would affect what she had always dreamed of.

“I'll find the decorations for the tables, can you see the flowers?” Jake just agreed with you as he continued down the aisle of baskets and trinkets for flower arrangements. Agreeing with what you were saying was something he had been practicing over the weeks as he was assigned to spend more time than necessary by your side.

Sometimes the two of you would go out with Heeseung and Josie, looking for things related to the wedding and everything that could be used for the big party. Jake saw how much Heeseung agreed with his fiancée and, with subtle comments, he managed to change her mind when she didn't agree with something. This could be the big key to why their relationship had worked so well from the start.

Where did I go wrong? Jake felt selfish for thinking so, knowing exactly where he went wrong. He didn't insist enough on a conversation, he didn't make you listen to him the way you should have and, as a result, almost a year went by with him being set up as a liar in your head. That's why he decided not to argue and just agreed when you asked or gave your opinion. He agreed with almost everything because he knew how good you were at decorating, not to mention the fact that he knew that you and Josie had talked about marriage for hours when you were still Jake's girlfriend. He remembers nights when he would play with Heeseung while the two of you watched dress fittings, giving your opinions on which one you would like to wear on the big day.

While his sister opted for more flashy things, with some stones and sparkles in the veil, you always chose the simple, strapless dress that accentuated the curves of your body and without too much lace because you didn't want something so big. This simplicity made Jake's eyes sparkle because he could clearly see you in a simple dress. Although all the beauty would turn to your face, no matter what you were wearing.

“Flowers, Jake. Focus on the flowers” he said to himself as he pushed a trolley through the aisles of the store. Memorizing the ones Josie had told him about as an option and going to where they all were.

He had to concentrate on that or he would go mad because there was no way not to have nostalgic thoughts when you were around without fighting with him. These moments were rare, but when they happened, Jake knew he wasn't the only one who thought like that.

Looking at the labels naming each flower, he wondered if it was really necessary. Whether Josie would be angry if he chose any of them instead of the three on that piece of paper because they were just flowers. A color that wasn't too flashy – the only thing Jake could think of was that his sister wanted everything in rosé and champagne tones – and the flowers could be light pink or white. If he got one of those colors, but it wasn't the one she wanted, would his sister be happy? He didn't want to risk that much, so he sighed heavily in search of a dahlia or any of the other two that were named.

Luckily, the white dahlias weren't that far away, and Jake managed to get just the right amount to show Josie and see if that was what she was going to take. Apart from taking a small bouquet, he would probably have to go back with Heeseung and pick up countless flowers just to put on the tables of so many guests he didn't even know his sister had invited.

Rolling his eyes at some of them, Jake gathered a good amount into a clumsy bouquet but organized enough to take to the cashier and pay. His eyes rolled over a few flowers until they stopped: the orchids. He didn't want his heart to race so much that he had to bite his lower lip to suppress a smile. Jake could go on for years without talking to you, but it would never leave his mind.

“You're an idiot, Jake Sim” he hated having the habit of talking to himself while he was in such an internal dilemma but taking just one orchid and hiding it under the bouquet of dahlias was necessary at that moment. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he knew he had to.

“Have you got the flowers yet?” your voice sounded a little louder than usual, at the exact moment when Jake put the flowers into the trolley and looked down the corridor in his direction. He just nodded, watching you approach with some things he couldn't even tell you what they were. Maybe not even you. But they were all named according to what the bride and groom wanted, so all was well and good.

“Do we need anything else?” Jake asked after you'd put everything in the trolley, not even bothering to check that the amount of flowers he'd picked up was correct. This made him sigh with relief, so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd picked up an orchid out of the blue.

“I think we got everything in this store” you said at last, turning away from Jake to look in your notebook and make sure you knew what you were talking about.

He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, run to Heeseung, and tell him what was going on. Or even ask his best friend to take his place on the next outing for the wedding stuff. Because if it went on like this, Jake didn't know if he could take it any longer.

The look on Josie's face could only indicate two things: either she was very nervous, or she had done something wrong. And considering that all the women were gathered in the living room of Mrs. Sim's house for the pre-wedding lingerie tea, maybe your friend was just nervous.

Looking at her for a while, you saw her say something to Susan and, when they both agreed on something before telling you, you could certainly suspect the second thought. This made your heart race because, if something had gone wrong, it was your job as godmother to fix it.

“What happened?” you quickly asked when the two of them approached, Susan looking around before glancing at you and then at Josie.

“Josie needs to tell you something” she said, and then you saw your sister-in-law and best friend open her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.

Some women were arriving, Josie's friends from work, other family friends that Mrs. Sim and her mother had made a point of inviting. Everything would be very welcome if it meant getting things from people before her wedding, after all, Josie wouldn't deny any gifts. She also called some friends from college, and for some reason, your mind clicked so far ahead that you only realized what was happening when you saw her walk through the door.

Your stomach did such a somersault that you almost threw up the lunch you'd eaten with Susan before getting things ready for Josie at her mother's house. You thought the last time you'd see Stacy Joseph, the owner of the pink bow bra, would be in that hallway where you threw it at her and nearly broke her nose when you went to make amends. The last contact between the two of you was with Susan standing between you and her after you punched her in the nose, watching her bleed while you told her to swallow that stupid fabric. After that, you never saw her around the college campus, near anyone you knew or, worse, near Jake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Girls!” even her voice made you nauseous, and you wanted to ask yourself over and over again why Jake had chosen Stacy Joseph to be the pivot of the break-up and the reason for the betrayal between the two of you.

You remained silent the whole time she entered the house, left the gift package in the middle of the living room, and walked in the direction the three of you were heading. As a little dejavú, Susan stood next to you, almost between the two of you when Stacy got close enough to greet Josie.

“I'm so happy you're getting married, that's so cool” she hugged Josie so tightly, that you wanted to rip her out of her best friend's arms.

“Thank you for coming” she just replied, letting go of the hug and looking straight at you.

Stacy didn't say your name or Susan's, but the cordiality meant that she just nodded at you both in mute greeting.

“Y/n” Josie called your name, but your head was spinning and you looked like you were going to throw up. Her voice lingered in the back of your mind as you broke away from your friends and ran to Mrs. Sim's kitchen.

This couldn't be happening, not to you. For almost a year you had managed to forget what her face looked like, her voice, and even her presence, focusing your anger only on Jake because he was the only one you were around all the time. Now seeing her in front of you again, being invited to your sister-in-law's pre-wedding party… No, that was too much for you.

“Look Y/n, listen to me” Josie entered the kitchen, followed by Susan who looked at the two of you and then towards the entrance to the room, fearing that Stacy might follow them and, who knows, start an unnecessary argument “I heard she was coming a few hours ago, and it was because of your brother!”

“What do you mean?” you didn't want to look at her now, you didn't want to show how much this affected you. So your gaze went to the counter where your mother had placed drinks to be served when all the women had arrived. You didn't mind opening a bottle with the highest proof, grabbing a glass, and filling it halfway before downing it. “Shit.”

“Y/n” Josie was on the other side of the counter, right in front of you. Susan was next to her, looking at you too. “I didn't know she was Haechan's girlfriend because he never told us, and since Heeseung invited him because he was on the soccer team… He asked if he could invite his girlfriend and—” she took a deep breath, feeling her eyes burn at how shaken you had been. When you filled the glass for the second time, Josie quickly took it and drank, just like you had done a few seconds before, feeling the burning sensation go down your throat. “Haechan didn't say her name or anything, otherwise I would have made an excuse.”

“No” you quickly said. “It's okay, it's just—”

“Besides, Jake didn't even cheat on you, but you don't want to hear that right now” Susan took the glass from Josie's hand, looking in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You felt your whole body ache just thinking about starting that debate again, how tired and upset you were to see your best friends siding with a traitor like Jake. No one had seen what you saw in his locker, so why not believe you?

“We found you three” Mrs. Sim entered the kitchen with an unusual excitement. She smiled at the three of you and didn’t notice the strange atmosphere that was there before she arrived “Have you gone to taste our drinks yet?” she laughed when she saw the glass in Josie’s hand and the open bottle in front of you. Your mother came in right after with one of her arms linked through Jake’s. And that’s when your legs went completely weak.

“What are you doing here, honey? It’s a women-only party” Mrs. Sim said as soon as she saw her son enter the kitchen with your mother. She seemed to be babbling about something he hadn’t even heard yet.

“I came to get my wallet and car keys” Jake said, but his gaze was on you the whole time. You felt that he was, even though you had looked away so as not to look at him at that moment.

“Then you can leave, there will only be women’s talk here” your mother let go of his arm for a second, “Things about panties, drinks, bras, and stuff.”

She and your mother laughed, you saw Josie’s smile slowly appear, as she searched for your gaze.

“About bras? Then Jake can stay” you murmured, “He loves that.”

Oh, no. It had been too long since the two of you had had an argument since the wedding preparations began. You looked up at him, seeing that Jake seemed unreadable with that expression. He had definitely seen Stacy in the living room because your mother was there welcoming people, so he must have seen her. Or worse, he must have heard Haechan talking about her when he arrived for the boys' party that was happening simultaneously at your house at that moment.

“I love bras? Is that what you're saying?” Jake scoffed, the sound making your whole body shiver. Josie and Susan looked at the situation nervously, trying to predict the next moves to try to intervene since your mothers were there. It would be the first argument in front of them.

“Of course” you smiled falsely, “With pink bows and everything.”

The sound around happened naturally, people talking loudly and walking from one side to the other. In the other room, it was easy to hear the laughter of the women who were eager to start the party. Your mother and Jake's mother picked up some bottles, paying attention to the two of you who were standing there staring at each other. While Josie, surreptitiously, walked to her brother's side to try to get him out of there.

“I hate bras” Jake made a small face when his sister approached “You must know that Y/n, because I took yours off every day.”

“Holy shit” Susan almost choked on her own saliva as she held back a laugh, even though the mood wasn't conducive to it. But your face was priceless because no one expected that answer from Jake. Not even you.

“What?” your mother looked at you two, astonished, although she didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened in a relationship. Even more so for as long as it had lasted with you and Jake. You two were adults, above all, and no one would interfere in that.

“Sorry” Jake quickly said, feeling Josie’s hand on his shoulders, gently pushing him out of the kitchen. “Have a good party, girls. See you later!” he felt his cheeks burning, even though he had given you a good answer, it was still in the presence of your mother and his mother, so Jake acted on total impulse.

Of course, he was nervous and scared when he saw Stacy in the living room of his mother’s house. He knew Haechan was dating someone, but no one knew who she was until she showed up. Jake knew he had a lot to tell Heeseung as soon as he got to his house for the boys’ party, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering to the moment the two of you had in the kitchen. If Jake thought that this marriage would be peaceful, even with the problems, now he had just felt that it wasn't.

Three days until the wedding, where Josie and Heeseung would exchange vows, celebrate, and finally become part of the same family. She was so happy to know that her wishes were coming true, especially with someone like Heeseung. Who had always taken care of her since the first moment they were together. So planning and executing every little thing of that party didn't become a tiring job because, in the end, it made up for the joy of both of them.

And that was why you tried to ignore the discomfort in your chest every time you were around Jake – more than usual – after the meeting between the two of you at his parents' house. A whole week passed after that and you tried not to be around him alone for so long, even though you had to hurry to try on the dresses that your sister-in-law had set aside for the bridesmaid.

Going to the wedding dress store had to be a task done by you and Jake, together. But after that, you wanted to avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid you too. So you left your apartment without waiting for his ride, which was happening in the last few moments of every place you two went together. You went into the store and gave the bride's name, saying that there were some spares for you to try on in the color Josie had designated for you. The saleswoman, smiling and attentive, took you to the changing room so you could try it on and see how it would look on your body.

Being covered in a chic, pink, almost silk dress made you feel beautiful and desired. You knew Josie had that kind of taste. It was easy to trust her taste in clothes, but it wouldn't be an effort to try them on just to make her happy. Maybe you would keep the first one you put on anyway, but since there were five more on the hangers, you would need to put each one on. That way you could tell her why you had chosen one over the other.

“This way, Mr. Jake” the voice of the same saleswoman called down the hallway and you quickly straightened up, adjusting the second dress on your body when you heard footsteps walking in front of your door.

You ran to it and unlocked it, on impulse, just as the saleswoman was opening the door to the dressing room across from yours.

"Y/n? Are you here yet?" Jake was startled when he looked at you, but his eyes softened enough for him to make eye contact for a few seconds. You just nodded, looking away at the saleswoman.

“So you two are Josie and Heeseung’s godparents?” she asked.

“Yes” you and Jake said at the same time, her smile widening.

“Perfect” you said slowly. “Mr. Jake, your suits are in there as requested, and Ms. Y/n, did the dresses look good?”

“I’m still trying on the second one” you opened the door a little wider to show her. It wasn’t the silk of the first dress, but the lace and rhinestone trim gave a perfect glimpse of the curves of your hips. The saleswoman had a fond smile on her face, complimenting how beautiful you looked.

“It really does look beautiful” Jake blurted out, taking you and the saleswoman out of the small conversation you had both been having. Only then did he notice that the three of you were still standing in the hallway and that you were still wearing one of the dresses.

Your voice didn’t come out as a thank you, but you walked back into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before saying anything to him. Leaning your back against the cold wood and trying to normalize your heartbeat. Why did he have to say that as if nothing was happening?

In the time that followed, you tried to focus your attention on the other dresses and how the colors Josie had chosen were flattering to your skin tone and the color of your eyes. You felt more and more beautiful in each piece that slid over your body, the reflection in the mirror pleasing you more and more, making it practically impossible to choose a single piece that you could definitely choose. Going to the last dress, then, you decided to take off the one you were wearing and slide the fabric over your body.

Another silk, this time a little thinner, but not enough to be transparent. This one could have been designed for you because Josie knew you didn't want anything so flashy. You smiled to yourself after putting on the dress, turning your back to do up the zipper that was the only lock on the piece.

“Shit,” you grumbled when you saw it get stuck right at the beginning. “No, no, no…” despair began to take over your body. You couldn’t take off that dress or pull up the zipper and risk ripping something so expensive. Your mind raced to call the saleswoman quickly. She would be the only one who could help you with that zipper and would even be a good company to give advice to others who had doubts.

So yes, that’s what you would do. Holding the front of the dress with the straps hanging loosely on your shoulders, you walked to the door and unlocked it. Only sticking your head out and looking for the saleswoman. Not a soul passed by that hallway and you started to get a little scared because the only sound was footsteps coming from downstairs, where people were walking back and forth through the store.

The only sound that took you away from your thoughts of taking off your dress and giving up on trying it on was the click of the lock on the door in front of you. Jake had messy hair, adjusting his fly and the first four buttons of his white shirt open.

“Y/n?” he called you, finishing closing the zipper and running a hand through his hair to try to fix it a little. “I heard your door opening and I thought you were leaving, but— Are you okay?” he looked at you as soon as he stopped talking.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring how handsome he looked even in that sloppy and unkempt way. You imagined how clumsy Jake was with formal and elegant clothes, especially since you were the one helping him with the tie knots since you had to learn because of Heeseung and your father.

“I think…” you sighed, not wanting to say it out loud. He almost scolded himself for knowing you so well and knowing that something was wrong, so he walked the few steps from his door to yours, stopping in front of you “I think my dress zipper got stuck.”

“Do you need help?” he asked. You nodded slowly and, without saying anything else, let him enter your dressing room and closed the door right after.

Jake could see how organized you were even with a larger amount of dresses than he had to try on pants and shirts. Everything was perfectly folded, some even already hanging on the hangers while the pants he tried on were on the floor and only the blazers were on the hanger because he couldn’t find a single one that he thought looked nice on him.

“Okay, what do I need to do?” he turned towards you, noticing the way you were holding the front of your dress for dear life.

“Can you try to pull up the zipper? Otherwise, we can call the saleswoman” you turned your back to him and Jake had to hold his breath a little. The amount of skin was too much for him to see, even though it wasn't an unfamiliar sight for him. But after so long having this kind of contact was something Jake wasn't expecting.

“Okay, okay,” he said more to himself, walking towards you when you threw all your hair to the side, leaving your back completely bare to him.

Jake’s fingers trembled uselessly when the tip of his index finger and thumb touched the zipper. Nothing more than that, because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said after forcing it a little, the zipper not moving.

“Try again, please” you asked. “This dress is perfect and I think your sister chose it because maybe it suits me better than the others.”

He didn’t want to admit that yes, that dress was perfect on you. Even if you weren’t dressed properly and you still had to close the zipper to see the final result, Jake didn’t need that to compliment you or find you beautiful in any outfit. Taking another step forward, Jake thought he could dare and listen to his instincts, or he simply wouldn’t have a chance of doing that anymore. So he muted any other voice in his head and listened only to what his heart was telling him to do. With his free hand, Jake grabbed your waist under the thin fabric of your dress. He had touched your skin before under some silk that you had worn during the years of your relationship, but nothing compared to the dress you were wearing now.

You tried to hold back any sound that might come out of your mouth as his hand slowly squeezed your hip, while the other tried to pull up the zipper of your dress. Jake seemed focused on that action that bent over enough for his breath to hit the back of your neck. His eyes traveled up the length of your back and saw your skin crawl with that simple gesture.

So he still had some effect on you.

It was too much information for him to process. Jake affects your body, the closeness of the two of you, and the even heavier atmosphere between you after Stacy's arrival. It was too much for him to process. Jake could never do anything rational under pressure, so he knew it would have a drastic consequence, he wouldn't stop trying.

Turning your body and pressing it against his chest, you didn't have a chance to swear at him. There was not even time to speak a single syllable when Jake's lips quickly sought yours. It was like an act of returning home, where he already knew the way and only needed those few seconds to have his lips on yours.

If Jake was being irrational about the whole thing, you weren't going to be the only thinking person or get in the way of what was happening. Part of you wanted it, although the other part of you disagreed with having the tip of Jake's tongue poking at your lower lip. With a low moan, you gave way and that was all he needed. To tangle his tongue in yours, to taste you in his mouth again while his hands ran down your hips and gripped your body as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it did because to go a whole time like that without feeling his lips, without sliding your teeth across his bottom lip or having your hands wrapped in his hair. Your body pressed against his while you moaned low against his mouth every time the kiss intensified. Jake missed that as much as you did. And seeing how intensely you were giving yourself to him was more than an answer to what he needed.

Walking towards the nearest table, careful not to ruin his clothes on the way, Jake leaned you against the wood without interrupting the kiss in the process. He didn't want to pull his mouth away from yours and even though you both needed air, he wanted to be able to breathe the air from your mouth if at all possible. His hands, still on your waist, slid all over your back, still uncovered by the fabric that wouldn't close at all. Thanks for the stuck zipper, he thought, running his hand up your spine until he tangled the fabric of the dress between his fingers.

Jake's mouth parted from yours just then, his forehead still pressed against yours and his eyes slowly opening to search for yours. A silent request as to whether he could go on with it or whether you were sorry and wanted him to leave the room.

Your hands found his and as if to help him, you pulled the loose fabric down your body, revealing your chest as all the silk bunched around your hips. His eyes shone brightly. Jake could tell it had all been worth it just from that sight. Your hands found his hair and he slid his lips down your neck as you spread your legs, beckoning him to snuggle in.

Jake ran his hands up the sides of your body, his thumbs finding your erect nipples and putting a fair amount of pressure there, just as his lips found your earlobe.

“Jake” you moaned his name, and that sound he missed so much. How slyly you used to moan his name.

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered against your skin, his hands gripping your breast a little more firmly before he released his lips from your neck and moved down to your collarbone.

Your voice gradually died away as Jake's mouth descended your skin in slow, wet kisses, his tongue tracing a teasing path down the middle of your breast. His breathing made a point of getting heavy with every line of saliva he left against your skin, the heat building there and intensifying between your legs.

“Fuck” you moaned as his tongue flicked across your nipple, the tip circling a few times before he took it all in his mouth. Sucking and making it even more sensitive with every warm touch of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth on it. Jake's attention took turns on each of your breasts, leaving enough of a mark for you to remember him when you got dressed for the wedding a few days later. Or when you came home to take a shower, looking at your chest and the amount of hickeys he was leaving.

You arched your back and, with some difficulty, pulled the rest of your dress down to your feet to get rid of the fabric that was now bothering you so much. The amount of clothing was unbearable for you as Jake settled further between your legs, still sucking on your nipples.

“Jake, please” you practically begged him as he looked more and more hungry with his mouth on your nipple. Circling his tongue and letting go with a low, teasing pop, raising his face to meet yours.

“Do you want it as much as I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low, his lips red and shiny from the amount of saliva that had been smeared across your breast.

“I want it, very much” if he kept teasing you, you'd be pathetic enough to cry out for him and ask him to fuck you right there.

Fortunately Jake understood you so well and you knew he couldn't stand teasing you for so long, even more so with the hunger and thirst he'd been teasing and kissing you with minutes ago. He didn't want to waste any time, lifting his shirt over his head without bothering to remove the buttons, the zipper of his pants came down in seconds and he quickly removed the fabric along with his underwear. Jake didn't want to wait any longer.

He went back between your legs, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Caressing the soft skin he had felt for so long. Nostalgia washed over him with every touch, going down to your hips to grab the fabric of your panties, throwing them on the floor as quickly as he did his clothes.

“Y/n, we—” you kissed his lips, not letting him finish saying anything. You knew Jake would explain himself, say something to try and comfort you from what you'd felt for so long. But the heat of the moment demanded that he just be inside you. And that's what you did. Holding his cock and pumping slowly, you heard Jake moan against your lips, his brow furrowed as you rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy lips to gather the perfect amount of your juices.

Jake arched his hips against your hand, feeling his cock get wet with the union of your arousal and his pre-cum, without having to worry about preparing you or anything. It was also because of the rush you were both in to feel each other, but he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you, and the way you were calmly taking it all in was driving Jake crazy.

“I don't want to hurt you” he whispered when you stopped teasing him and stopped rubbing the head of his cock all over your pussy. Jake's cock was already wet enough and you were already more than lubricated, he wasn't going to hurt you.

“You won't hurt me, I promise” you whispered with your lips close to his, without kissing him, waiting for Jake to take the next step between the two of you.

As if it were a communication just by looking, as soon as Jake leaned his forehead against yours, he understood that it had to be done. So you thrust your hips slowly, feeling your entrance suck the head of his cock. Just the tip penetrating you was enough to make you moan, pressing your lips against Jake's and bending your body over the table. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your body between his arms, afraid that you would run away at that moment. Afraid that everything you were both experiencing would be thrown away and that maybe it was Jake's dream, where he dozed off in the fitting room opposite yours, idealizing what was happening.

But no, it was all real. He was slowly penetrating you, gripping your body between his arms and feeling your arms around his neck, as if you needed to steady yourself just by hugging him.

Reaching the bottom, with his cock completely inside you, Jake didn't let go of your embrace. He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing his cock and leaving just the tip inside you, only to return slowly and intensely until his cock was inside your pussy. The movement of your hips became constant, and the sound of the moans that the two of you shared in whispers gave the moment even more intensity. Jake was careful not to go too fast and hard because the way you squeezed his cock showed how sensitive your pussy was to receiving him back.

“You don't know…” Jake sucked a moan from your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours when a particularly intense movement hit you, making the head of his cock touch your spongy spot and your walls tighten around it. Jake could have sworn he was going to come right then and there, but he had to stop himself, he didn't want to finish yet “You don't know how much I've missed this… How much I've missed you.”

Your fingernails scratched Jake's shoulder blades, making the thrust forceful as his skin burned a little. You bit his lower lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly so that the whole store could hear the two of you. Your legs wrapped even tighter around Jake's moving hips, giving him no room to pull away for even a second.

“I've missed you, Jake” your hips were now moving along with his, but slowly, while Jake was intensifying his thrusts, wanting you to feel every moment of his cock moving in and out of you. Withdrawing his cock slowly and putting it back in just as slowly, going hard only at the end so that the head of his cock touched your cervix or you felt every rise in your walls with his size “I've missed you so much.”

Jake could cum with the intensity of your gaze, your fucked-up expression, and how you moaned his name as you said those things. He knew that anything you did while he had his cock buried in you was a reason for him to come, and he didn't want to hold back any longer.

With a silent request, Jake kissed your lips and moved his hands down between your bodies in the small space you left between the two of you. His fingers soon found your clitoris and he circled it at the same speed as his cock moved in and out of you.

You could see stars with the double sensation, your body writhing between Jake's arms as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was close to cumming and you weren't much different, you knew him well enough for that. You both knew each other's bodies that well.

“I need you to cum with me, please” Jake asked against your lips, his cock driving in a little harder, along with his fingers circling your clit a little faster.

Without the strength to say anything, you just agreed and continued to move your hips so that you were in sync with Jake and what he was doing. Your hands grabbed his hair, keeping Jake's mouth close enough to yours and catching his tongue between your lips. Sucking on his tongue with the same intensity as your pussy swallowed his cock was divine, Jake was losing count of how many times he came with this sensation. Being swallowed by your pussy and your mouth sucking his tongue just like you used to suck his cock.

He could hear you moaning his name in a muffled way, your lips around the tip of his tongue and your pussy swallowing more and more of him. A precise circle on your clit along with his cock moving in and out was enough to make the knot in your stomach burst. Your pussy convulsed, and your walls fluttered around his entire length, cumming all over Jake's cock. The heat of your pussy, the oozing of your cum, and the way you moaned his name over and over were too much for him to bear, and not a second later Jake's jets of hot, thick cum spurted into your pussy.

His thrusts became more and more erratic and sloppy as he still came inside your completely fucked pussy, pushing his cum that threatened to fall out of your hole by the amount he had cum in so long. You were still sensitive and the overstimulation wasn't bad, although you felt like crying at the way Jake still kept his cock in you, moving in and out until your pussy milked the last drop out of him.

Jake rested his hands on either side of your body, next to your hips on the table. With his cock still inside you and his body still between your legs. He opened his eyes slowly to find your face calm and serene, your expression a little more relaxed than before.

“Jake…” you whispered, not wanting him to pull away from you.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone, one of his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. He shifted his gaze down your body, the sheen of the light layer of sweat forming against your skin, your hips still joined without the strength to separate. The skin of his chest covered by the marks of his mouth made him smile with satisfaction at his work.

“Can we stay like this for a few minutes?” your request made his heart race, even though it had been racing since the first second you two kissed in that fitting room.

“As long as you want” he moved a little closer, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before placing his forehead against yours. Not wanting to leave your side even after the post-orgasm sensation had passed.

The rest of the days passed like a blur, and not because you or Jake were avoiding each other after what happened. But because time got too short it seemed like more things were happening until the big day. You and he didn't seem to mind each other's presence while you had to sort things out, the tiredness of the final preparations giving way to each other's bodies while all you could think about was getting it over with.

You could breathe a sigh of relief after walking in with Jake at Josie and Heeseung's wedding, listening to the whole ceremony in silence and admiration. Smiling at the vows of the two newlyweds and holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, it was over and you could proudly say that you had been a great godmother. That your brother and sister-in-law had been right to appoint you and Jake to that role.

Now, enjoying the post-wedding party was the only thing on your mind. The glass was freshly filled with booze for the fourth time, the empty hand resting on Susan's shoulder as she hugged Josie's waist, humming the song that was playing throughout the huge hall. This is what you three thought it would be like. Drunk, happy, and laughing as you remember how you met. The time you shared and how much your friendship meant to each other.

“Even though Y/n is my sister-in-law now” Josie swallowed a drunken sob, smiling as she pulled you into a hug with Susan “you two will always be my heart sisters.”

“Is that supposed to make us sentimental?” Susan asked.

“Is it working?” Josie retorted.

It might work because you all already had a fair amount of alcohol in your system, considering how long you'd been here after the ceremony. You still spent time with Heeseung, congratulating your brother and warning him to take good care of Josie. Although he was your brother, your brotherhood with her was strong enough for you to take her away from their house, which hadn't even been furnished yet. With Susan's help, the two of you would take Josie away without a second thought in case Heeseung did something to her. Even though you knew it would never happen.

After a few minutes of exchanging warm, sentimental words, laughing until your belly ached, and refilling your glasses, the three of you broke away from the hugs to go around the party in search of something different for the next few minutes before meeting up again. Josie would go after Heeseung or your mother because she wanted to talk to her new daughter-in-law. Susan would go after Sunghoon, for sure. She missed her boyfriend, who would probably be hanging around the party clutching Heeseung's tie and collecting funny nicknames for the newlywed. Your mind immediately wandered to Jake, thinking that you could go after him and just talk about what happened, maybe. But your feet were killing you enough that you didn't even consider the idea of going out, so you walked over to the nearest table to sit down.

“Can I join you?” your gaze lifted to the person in front of you, smiling when you noticed Haechan's presence.

“Sure, join me” he smiled back at you, taking off his blazer and putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. You could tell by the lazy sound that came from his lips how exhausted he looked.

“Getting around with your brother and Sunghoon wasn't an easy task” he grumbled, his fingers lightly massaging his left temple as he looked around. Looking for one of his friends or even his girlfriend.

“Are they giving you much trouble?” you asked.

“Enough that Sunghoon and Jake made him almost undress three times” Haechan said, making you laugh.

“Hey, I didn't do anything like that!” the defense in Jake's voice took you by surprise, and both you and Haechan looked in the direction of the slowly approaching voice. At the beginning of the party, Jake looked impeccable. His hair, which he had let grow – because Josie had asked him to, wanting his brother to have an impeccable hairstyle for her wedding – had been slicked back with a little gel, and was now disheveled and messy. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and Jake's tie was completely loosened, but still around his neck. The typical scene of how relaxed he was, but not to the point of getting drunk like you were starting to.

“You'll have to fight with your sister if her husband gets naked in front of everyone” Haechan defended, having his train of thought interrupted by him making Jake laugh. The sound of laughter calmed every cell in your body.

You noticed that he was a little more relaxed, smiling at some of the things Haechan said to him while you switched off a little. Your focus was now on the heel you were trying to take off and how much your feet might scream if they could talk. Without much delay, you unbuckled your heels and took them off, leaving them in a corner under your chair.

“But seriously, this wedding is just the way you two wanted it, isn't it?” your attention returned to the two boys talking right in front of you. Jake slyly pulled out a chair to sit next to you and his gaze ran down to where you were futilely trying to massage your feet.

“In every detail” he smiled at Haechan “Heeseung tries to deny that it was all my sister's doing, but we know he wanted it that way too” seeing how much Jake knew your brother was very gratifying, to know that someone understood him as much as you did.

At some point in the conversation, you found yourself looking between the two of them as they talked about how nice it was to be friends with Heeseung. At the time in college when Haechan wanted to join the soccer team and almost didn't get accepted because he had missed the time to introduce himself to the boys. Jake had his full attention on him, listening to every word while his hands thought differently, running down your calf until they caught your ankle. Without saying a word to you and without looking in your direction, he picked up your foot and placed it on his lap. The fingers lightly squeezing the sole of your foot almost made you moan at how good it felt, how much you needed that silent massage from Jake.

“One relationship I also admire is the two of you” Haechan pointed at you and Jake. Your eyes quickly met his for a split second, Jake's fingers stopped just as Haechan smiled, and then he went back to massaging your feet.

“Why?” Jake asked for you, knowing that his concentration was on the pain that was leaving, and how his body was slightly tense from the question.

“Because even after you broke up, you two carried on as friends” Haechan sounded dreamy as he said that little bit of admiration, even if it wasn't true. That the image you and Jake passed on to your friends was false, because you and he weren't friends, you never were. The war footing you two were on was hell on earth and neither of you knew how you were surviving until the present moment “I don't know if I'd be able to be friends with Stacy if the two of us broke up.”

There was a brief pause when Haechan spotted one of his friends with two glasses in his hand. He asked for one, even though the guy wasn't a waiter, but he smiled and handed it to him, asking if you and Jake wanted one too. Denying it and thanking you both, Jake smiled at him and let Haechan take a good sip of his drink.

“How long have you and Stacy been together?” Jake asked, not knowing the origin or the reason for all this. Maybe it was to get away from the attention his friend had given to your relationship, but he just wanted to deflect it and do everything he could to keep you away from him.

“Since college” he replied, taking another sip of his drink “our relationship is a little crazy.”

Jake knew you were looking at him at that moment, he could feel the weight of your gaze almost smoking on the back of his neck while his gaze was on Haechan.

“Tell me about it, I never knew” Jake prodded.

You didn't know why he was doing it. Whether it was to torture you for talking about Stacy so freely in front of him or whether he wanted to talk to Haechan, who barely knew that you had almost broken his girlfriend's nose in college.

“Well, we started going out after a fraternity party, it wasn't anything serious at first” he shrugged, the unfinished drink in his glass now playing between his fingers and a small smile on his lips.

Haechan talked about his and Stacy's relationship carefully, as if the image she had made of herself to him was a version you had never met. But then your ears perked up a little more when he got to a particular moment in the story.

“Dude, I… Y/n, do you mind if I say that?” Haechan looked at you, noticing that the story was taking a turn that only boys could be interested in.

“Not at all” you tried to smile at him, almost grimacing at the way it had come out “I'm just focusing on my massage” you pointed downwards where Jake's hands were still occasionally squeezing your feet. He laughed and continued, looking at Jake this time.

“I went crazy when we started dating because Oliver talked about Stacy's fame and for the first few weeks I wanted to prove whether it was true or not.”

Stacy's fame in college was her cute lingerie, the famous – and hated by you – pink bow bra. It wasn't necessarily fame because she made a point of showing part of her bra with a tank top during training and it had even been proven by those who slept with her. It wouldn't be a fame if they already had proof.

“When I saw it, I made a point of… spicing up our relationship at the beginning, to prove that she wanted it and that it wasn't the same with everyone.”

“And how did you get her to prove it?” Jake asked Haechan.

“Oh, you know” he leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could and almost yawning, but he wasn't sleepy enough for that “I asked her to leave a bra in my closet on the day of the game.”

Jake was the first to make eye contact with you as if he'd expected that answer or any reaction to it. Your eyes sought his and, a few seconds later, you looked at Haechan.

“What day was that?” you asked “I mean… what game?”

“The last friendly we had against the University of the South” he looked nostalgic as he recalled one of the last games he'd played in a university shirt “I told her to leave it in my locker and then we'd celebrate under the shower, you know.”

You didn't know what it was like because you were disgusted to do anything in the university's men's locker room, but that didn't stop you from finding Jake and going home with him to celebrate. That's how you ended up in the locker room on that fateful day.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Haechan asked after a while. He was still talking to Jake about something you didn't even know you wanted to hear right now, your mind was racing. If Stacy had done that in Jake's locker, what story had she told Haechan to make him think he was the only one who had received a pink bow bra in his locker?

“Excuse me” you asked, taking your feet off Jake's lap so quickly that he didn't even have time to hold you or ask where you were going.

A lot of questions were running through your mind at that moment, for example, how Stacy was managing to cope with a lie that she maintained even after the encounter you two had? Even after you hit her and cursed at her even though she was dating Haechan after everything. While you maintained that Jake was the liar in all this, the big liar was there all along.

You didn't know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, your feet were leading you in the direction where Stacy was. Near the bar and away from the many people at the party, she was chatting with Susan and Sunghoon as if she had been friends with them for years. Although you knew that your friend and her boyfriend were very polite, you didn't like the closeness she was trying to force.

“Hey, Y/n” Sunghoon was the first to see you coming, his smile showing the fangs that you heard Susan sigh almost all the time. He waved at you without a response, only to see you advance towards Stacy as soon as you got close enough.

“You slut!” your hands grabbed the fabric of her dress, almost tearing it with how hard you were squeezing.

“Let me go, you're hurting me” she whimpered, feeling your nails dig a little deeper into her skin as you gripped her dress even tighter.

“So you've been lying all this time, have you?” you pushed her away when you felt Susan's hands pulling at you, wanting to push you away from Stacy, but unable to put that much force into your actions. She was drunk enough not to be able to separate you as she normally did. Then she looked in Sunghoon's direction, searching for some kind of help.

“Lied about what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb!” you yelled, but your voice couldn’t be heard the way you wanted to by the people around you, only Stacy and Susan were able to hear how loud you were talking because of how close you were. “That day at the game, Jake’s locker. Tell the truth, you slut—”

Sometimes you had the slight impression that your brother arrived at the worst times, like in a suspenseful scene from your favorite series, or when you and your mother wanted to listen to the neighbors’ fights and Heeseung slammed the door right when one of them told you something very important. And like now, when you were about to live the nostalgic moment of punching Stacy right in the nose, but your brother’s hands were quick enough to grab you and pull you away from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing between the two of you and facing you “Hey, sis, look at me.”

“Let me go or I’ll finish her off.”

“You’re not going anywhere” Heeseung said. His eyes searched for something behind you and when he found it, you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Sunghoon had gone after Jake and Josie.

“What’s going on here? Are you okay?” Josie asked as she looked at Heeseung and you, but when her eyes landed on Stacy, some of her sobriety returned. She knew that this could happen at the party and was already preparing for some argument between the two of you, she just didn’t know it would be practically halfway through the night.

“I… I was at the bar talking to Susan and Sunghoon when Y/n arrived and—”

“Oh, for God's sake, stop your shitty little act” you snapped, almost advancing on her if it weren’t for Heeseung’s strength still holding you in place. Your brother didn’t move an inch until Jake took his place, standing in front of you and holding you. On another occasion, you would be cursing him and not wanting Jake to touch you, but seeing him there at that moment seemed to make all the difference.

“Stacy, love, what’s going on here?” when she heard Haechan’s voice, Stacy seemed to freeze in place. She looked at him with wide eyes and rapid breathing, perhaps even more than before when the two of you almost argued.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place now, maintaining that lie was no longer hers and she knew that sooner or later it should have been said. Stacy just didn’t know why it had taken so long.

“I… I think I did something wrong and…” you couldn’t swallow her fake crying and the sobs that threatened to come out of the girl’s lips who, with the help of her boyfriend, took a step forward to tell the whole story to your friends.

Hearing all of that from the point of view of the one who had caused you the most pain only made your blood boil even more. You – and the entire campus – knew how much Stacy always bragged about getting with every guy she wanted, with only Heeseung and Sunghoon being the only ones under the radar, she wanted to be content with that. But when she found out that Jake, besides being on the soccer team, was coveted for dating the team captain's sister… Oh, she wanted him. It was impossible to get him, but she would do anything to try anything and get with Jake at least one thing. It was then that she had the brilliant idea of replicating Haechan's wish.

The friendly match against the southern university was packed, with everyone on campus stopping to watch the match and cheer for the team. You and your friends weren't much different, wanting to see the boys and supporting them at all costs. Unfortunately, Stacy heard how lovingly you told Jake that you would wait for him after the game in the locker room to get his things and go home.

“Can you get my shirt from my locker? I left it open, you can wear it, it's for good luck in my game today. Then I want to take you out of here” his locker would be open, and fitting like a glove, Haechan's idea could serve Jake at that moment. Stacy would put her bra in his locker, let you think whatever you wanted and then she would go on with her life as if nothing had happened. She did that and took off the bra she was wearing to put in Haechan's locker, so she wouldn't waste time because she didn't know if you would throw the fabric away or if you would confront her. She found herself in the unfortunate decision of having the latter option two days later.

“You already got revenge on me for that day and I apologize to you.” Stacy felt her eyes burning, she was embarrassed for being caught and confronted at a wedding party she didn’t even know why she had gone to. She thought that not telling him she was Haechan’s girlfriend would be the best choice to see the faces of familiar people once again since no one had kept in touch with her besides her boyfriend.

“Did you get revenge on her? What did you do?” Jake looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, doubt in his expression, and his lips in a cute pout. If it weren’t for the current situation, you would have kissed him for sure.

“I didn’t do anything” you said softly, just so he could hear. But Stacy didn’t listen, so she kept talking.

“She hit me in the hallway of the north block a few days later” she sighed “Almost broke my nose.”

“What?” Sunghoon shouted in surprise “So our last fraternity party… The injury on your nose…”

“It wasn’t a cheerleader stunt” she continued.

A short silence fell between you all, only the music of the party and Stacy’s small sobs could be heard. You could notice how much Josie was trying to calm the situation and disperse the people so that everyone could enjoy the rest of the party.

Your gaze went up to Jake’s face and he was expressionless now. The astonishment that had taken over had given way to a neutral look, but it contained something that you couldn’t identify. Remorse? Fear? Anger?

“Jake…” you called him without knowing why you were doing that. He was still looking at you with the same expression, not even softening at the sound of your voice.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, his tone serious, but somehow trying to sound a little calm for your liking “I’ll take you home and then we can talk, okay?”

There was no way you could insist or say no, just accept it because you didn't even know why you wanted to talk to him at that moment. Everything had hit you like a blow, and just like you, Jake might need some time to cool down and talk to you at the end of the party.

Waving slowly, you watched him walk away as Haechan pulled Stacy away and the others walked through the party until it was just you and him left there. Or just you, as soon as Jake walked away and walked to the bar to get something to drink. So, you allowed yourself to release all the air you were holding, refusing to cry after reality hit your mind and heart.

You believed a lie for all that time. And there was no going back now.

Jake tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, but his firm grip on the leather showed how nervous he still was. Spending the rest of the party brooding over everything that had happened, in addition to seeing how shaken you were by it all, made him feel even worse. He thought he would be fine after you heard that he had never cheated on you, that you had believed a lie… But he didn't feel good. Jake seemed to feel even worse after seeing how bad you were.

That was why, when he guided you to the car to take you home after the party was over, he preferred to stay quiet and let you be quiet too. The whole drive was in complete silence, with the only sounds being the car engine and the city's movements in the early morning. Occasionally Jake would look in your direction to see if you had fallen asleep or if you were okay, checking on you or waiting for you to look at him too. The only time your eyes met his was when you pulled up to your apartment, Jake turning off the car engine as soon as he parked in the parking lot of your building.

He didn't have to ask if you wanted him to come with you, because you got out first and left the keys with him, as a silent request that he could go up with you. And Jake did just that. From the hallways of the building to the elevator, going to your floor in the most absolute silence. Maybe even more than when the two of you were inside the car.

He turned the keys when you both reached your door, letting you enter first and leading the way in the small darkness that formed inside your apartment. After locking the door, Jake took off his shoes and threw his blazer next to the hanger by the door to make himself a little more comfortable as he followed you to the kitchen still without saying a word.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jake asked for the first time since the two of you left the party after the wedding. Your eyes followed his figure who was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the wood as he looked in your direction.

“I think…” you sighed, looking around after Jake held your gaze. Feeling a little shy from the intensity with which he was looking at you “I’ll make some coffee and…”

“I’ll make the coffee” Jake interrupted you slowly “Go upstairs and put on something more comfortable” he tried to sound a little softer with you, but there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice that you recognized. A palpable tension that he finally had the whole truth exposed, he just didn’t know how to act after all.

You wouldn't deny it, especially since your feet were almost killing you from the pain from the moment you took off your heels in the middle of the party. You definitely wanted to take off that silk from your clothes, even though they were so comfortable that you danced all night without worrying. But at that moment, your body just needed other fabrics. So you quickly went to your room, passing by Jake without looking at him because you knew that if that happened, there would be no way to go back or simply remember to change your clothes.

As soon as you got to your room, the first thing you did was slide the dress down your body and leave it lying anywhere on the floor. The air blowing against your almost naked skin was a soothing balm for everything you had witnessed in the last few hours. When you got to the bathroom, looking at your appearance in the mirror, Jake's idea of taking a shower didn't seem so bad after all. Turning on the shower and letting the water run wasn't a thought you were reluctant to do, it had to be done. Getting all the dirt, sweat, and exhaustion off your body, both for the fun and for the mix of sensations and how sore and tired you felt. The pain in your feet went away as you squeezed them – not as gently as Jake did – with the help of the soap and hot water. Everything goes down the drain minutes later: dirt, tiredness, and a bit of sadness.

Quickly drying yourself, you grabbed a pair of old sweatpants that belonged to Heeseung and that you never let him take possession of. They belonged to you since the day you put them on by mistake at your parent's house when you and he still lived there since then those pants became yours and no one would say otherwise. For the top, the only comfortable thing you could wear was a sports bra. Without the clinging fabric of a t-shirt on your torso, you wanted something breathable and that would make you feel freer, this was perfect.

“Time to take off my makeup” you muttered to yourself after you had finished changing properly, looking in the mirror to find your mascara slightly smudged and the red lipstick already coming off your lips. You remembered the tireless hours you spent with Josie and Susan at the beauty salon that same day, in the early hours of the morning. Not even thinking that you would have to take it off at the end of it all, ending up with a beautiful job, even though you felt like you couldn’t keep your makeup on for so long.

Taking the cotton and the makeup remover, you moistened the cute object to wipe your face and, before doing so, looked at your reflection once more. Something in your mind made you think of everything besides the time you had taken to put on your makeup and get ready for the wedding. That had been the makeup for your brother and sister-in-law’s most important day, but it was also with that makeup that you faced the biggest event of your life. With that mascara on your eyes, you were able to witness the lies that Stacy had told you for so long. It was with that lipstick on your lips that you cursed her, and with all that makeup on you stared at people and saw Jake's gaze on you all night. Without being able to decipher, what he was feeling.

Everything, at that moment, was a shock and you only realized that you were crying and looking at your reflection when your vision blurred and you heard Jake calling you in the background. His hurried steps through the room before Jake's figure stopped right at the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” the desperation in your tone, the look in Jake’s eyes as he turned you around, making you face him. This made you cry even more. Your mouth opened and closed to say something, but nothing came out, just silent sobs as you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “Hey… What happened?” he asked again.

“I just—” you sobbed again “I ruined everything.”

Jake’s hands found their way to your waist in a matter of seconds, bringing your body close to his in just enough space for him to tilt his face and be close to yours. Without saying a single word, he looked deep into your eyes, letting you shed as many tears as you thought necessary. His fingers held tightly to your skin and, with a small push, he picked you up and placed you sitting on the bathroom counter.

“Ruined what, exactly?” he asked, taking the cotton from your hand. Jake wet the makeup remover again and straightened up between your legs to take off your makeup for you. A few days ago, this position between the two of you yielded something beyond what was happening, and butterflies in your stomach hit you at the thought of it. But there he was, with the utmost sweetness and affection, carefully passing the cotton pad over the entire length of your face. Completely the opposite of what he had done to you last time.

“Us” you answered when Jake passed the cotton pad over one of your eyes, forcing you to close it so he could remove the mascara. You heard him sigh right in front of you, the air blowing against your face due to Jake’s proximity to you.

The silence that settled between you was strangely comfortable. Now and then your sobs could still be heard as you tried to normalize your breathing and stop crying. Jake was completely focused on wetting the cotton pads, removing your makeup, and making sure you were clean and comfortable enough. Once everything was over and he threw the rest of the things in the trash, he remained with his body still between your legs.

“You didn’t ruin us” he finally replied, his hands resting on your thighs instead of touching the marble of the bathroom sink. Jake’s fingers, although blocked by the sweatpants you were wearing, were a warm and comfortable touch. Something you missed and only realized the last time the two of you had a little more contact.

“Of course” your eyes burned again and your vision became blurry again. Jake’s figure in front of you was like a blur when you felt like you were going to cry again. “I spent all this time thinking that you—”

He knew what you would say, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. It was a past completely behind him, one that Jake didn’t want to dig up and much less make you remember. So the only way for it to end was when he touched your lips with his. A soft kiss, placing his mouth on yours and slowly sliding the tip of his tongue along your lower lip. It didn't take long for your passage to be accepted, letting him guide the kiss while one of his hands came up to hold your face. He held you in his hands with such care, kissing you and making you feel every little touch.

That should have calmed you down, but it made you shed the tears that still insisted on appearing. Jake felt each one of them between the kiss you shared, each time softer and slower, the movement of your tongues in sync as he let you feel each small slide of his mouth against yours. When you both needed to compose yourself, Jake pulled his lips away from yours enough so that you could both breathe. Still keeping your mouths closed and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You know what?” Jake said, still breathless and a little hoarse. You just murmured in agreement, letting him continue his train of thought “When we started dating, one of the first things Heeseung told me was that you were the most stubborn person I would ever meet in my life.”

“Really?” you opened your eyes in shock, staring at Jake who was still between your legs. His lips reddened and smiling at you.

“Really” he kissed your lips once more, his hand still on your face caressing your cheek and sliding his thumb to your lower lip “What happened in that locker room was shitty and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I just…” he took a deep breath, his hands finding their place back on your waist. “I needed time until I made you listen to me. I would never rest until I knew I would never do that to you.”

It was your turn to pull Jake into a soft kiss, just to feel his mouth against yours again. The slow, calm slide of his mouth against yours before you pulled away.

“Do you forgive me for being so stubborn? For wasting our time?”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, baby” Jake took a few steps back, his mischievous smile making your heart race a little faster than usual. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?” you asked.

“I’ll be right back” Without giving you a chance to answer, Jake ran out of the bathroom, leaving you still sitting on the sink counter. You decided to go downstairs and walk to your room, trying to think of what he could have for you. It couldn’t be coffee, because the cup he brought was resting on the nightstand on your side of the bed. Running to the bathroom while you were crying made him completely forget about the drink there, maybe it had even gone cold. You didn’t care, after all.

Jake’s footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and, before you could walk a little further and open it, he did it himself. One hand was hidden behind his back as he entered your room.

“What’s all this suspense, Jake Sim?” you raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical about all the mystery surrounding the two of you. Jake chuckled softly, walking slowly but nervously towards you until he stopped right in front of you.

“I bought this because I knew I could give it to you one day” he said softly, not quite a whisper, but his tone was still soft. Jake’s eyes were focused on every corner of your face, wanting to convey a little of everything the two of you had shared so far. Or at least try to understand a little of the emotion he felt after everything that had happened.

He pulled away until he showed you what he was holding and, as soon as you saw the only orchid he had between his fingers, you almost cried for the third time that night.

“Jake…”

“It was the flower of our relationship, I—” he held it out to you, letting you take it and smell it as you always did with every orchid he gave you over the years. The characteristic smile that showed you were truly surprised, but without a single word to express what you were feeling. While your free hand went to his face and caressed Jake's cheek, the skin against your fingers so soft “I bought it the day we went to see things for my sister. I thought I could give it to you at some point.”

“Did you think it would be soon?” you asked.

Jake took a step forward, getting close enough to be able to hug your body with his.

“I didn't think so, but I hoped it would be. I couldn't stand being away from you anymore with all these wrong and poorly explained things” he huffed, his forehead pressed against yours when Jake's head leaned forward to get even closer to your face. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time since you had arrived home, holding the flower tightly in one hand, while the other still held Jake's face.

“So go take a shower, take off those wedding clothes, and stay with me in bed all night.”

“Just tonight?” Jake asked, pouting. Which didn't last long because you broke it with a quick kiss.

“As long as you want…”

“I think my whole life is perfect for me” he shrugged, kissing you once more before pulling away and quickly taking off his white shirt. Both because of the shower he was looking forward to taking and because of the lack of contact with you.

Jake wanted to make up for lost time and everything you two didn't experience because of the lies that surrounded you, him, and your relationship. A silent promise that, even if you were stubborn, you would never stop believing in him again.

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acid-ixx · 2 months ago

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tell your baby, that i'm your baby. (a loving family, an unpalatable desire drabble)

ft. yandere damian wayne x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere superfam

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

this is written in regards to one of my drabbles, i can't help but sigh at just how good the angst is for damian in this series.

because in loving family, unpalatable desire, you pretty much exclusively nickname him "dami, baby," from day one right after meeting him. you say it not in a way that you wish to overstep your boundaries at simply being his stepparent - you're aware, despite the ache in your chest admitting it, that you'll never come quite close to talia's standing in his heart, it's simply impossible with how she raised him her entire life before being dropped off in bruce's care - but because you find the boy adorable if you look past his intent at trying to murder you at every passing glance.

or maybe it's just you trying to cope with the pain of your situation, that you consider them all your beloved children, yet never being once called their parent throughout your entire marriage that breaks apart the illusion of a happy home life, that this wasn't the marriage you wanted at all; that you'll never bear a time in your life stuck in the manor seeing their genuine smiles directed at you even if you attempt to approach as patiently as possible in hopes your presence might be accepted— even if it results in awkward laughs at your cringy jokes at the dinner table, or one of damian's weapons nearly plunging the side of your head.

maybe, it's such a struggle to keep the flicker of light alive in your body whenever all your hardships fail, and all throughout you find your husband with lipstick stains all over his white collar every time he comes home that your mind forces itself to believe that with enough trial and error, maybe one of them could eventually tolerate, rather than pity you.

unfortunately, you chose damian, the one who you're convinced arguably despises you the most, of all people living or visiting the manor to run the test.

so in all the instances you chirp out his nickname, so fondly, so eminently heard across the walls of the manor, even in the spacious expanse of the gardens could your voice be heard from miles away, all because you wish to bond with him, praising his artworks with your grating voice, to give him intricate gifts you know will be discarded in the trash in front of you; you'll be met with a stubborn glare and mean comments about how he'll never consider you his parent, to relinquish your delusions at thinking he'll even let you past his walls, and how he'll never follow through the orders of a scum like you.

which is what you're forced to deal with every single day, coupled with harsh reminders of their happiness without the need for your presence beside them.

sometimes, his reactions could be his typical harsh comments, you've grown accustomed enough to differentiate what is harmless and what borders on violence; it's enough to know when to stop bothering him despite your best efforts. other times, it would be as intense as running a sword through the strands of your hair until he chops it at the end with a threat to cut off your tongue right after if you dare call him that putrid nickname again that cuts deeper than any wound.

with every trial of becoming closer to him, results in an even widening crack in your relationship with the young boy. and eventually, with enough sighs under your breath and harsh glares from him, you'll come into terms that you'll never form a cordial bond with the young boy. it's just impossible with how he views you, sheltered and undeserving because of your family's reputation of being money laundering scum.

at that period of time, you instead chose to strengthen your relationship with the reporter who saved you one day from the paparazzi's cruel interviews, the cute man from the daily planet whose name is clark kent with an even more adorable son, jon, who welcomed you with open arms and a tight hug on your stomach, muttering about how he's so excited to meet his new parent, just when you first stepped on the doors of your affair partner's home; that was enough to relinquish any anguish you felt at the manor replaced with absolute joy at what seems to be the first time you're considered the parent, part of a family, in a completely different household.

it helps erase the shadow of doubt that you may be cursed to never be accepted into an established family with just how bright, how comparable jon was to an overexcitable golden retriever, bonding with you since day one unlike all the other insufferable moments crammed into a jam-packed dinner table— only for your voice to be discarded and overpowered by others.

you start to call him your baby instead, completely in awe at the cute freckles littering his sun-kissed skin and the country boy accent he adopted from his dad. you couldn't help but hold his cheeks in your palms and kiss all over his face whilst you kneel to his level, laughing along with the giggles erupting from his throat that creates this harmonious melody in clark's ears, who watches you scoop the boy into your arms just to swing him back and forth in cuteness aggression, just how it always should've been with you.

clark pictures the moment together, capturing jon's smooshed face shadowed by your hair whilst you look at his, no, your son with inexplicable joy, eyes crinkled and shining brightly under the halo of the sunset.

and clark doesn't even have to see just much jon loves and cherishes you at first glance.

he wouldn't even dare compare you to his late mother, never once calling you a replacement or a homewrecker, placing you upon a pedestal you deserve to be instead; because let's face it, you simply live in the manor, but your true home is where clark and jon, and ma and pa kent are at. pictures of your little family are framed in your shared bedroom for you to graze your finger upon whenever you wish to reminisce the blessings bestowed upon meeting your affair partner at just by chance.

but you shouldn't have forgotten about damian that quickly, not when jon all-too suddenly shoves that photo of you in his wallet in front of his face, it made damian's mind go off in a tangent, in both curiosity and frustated yet unstated interrogations at your sudden disappearance (your grating voice don't call out to him anymore, and suddenly, the manor is quieter; he despises that feeling of emptiness more than he does of your nickname for him) then reappearance as jon's, funny, hah—!

jon's parent.

and in moments of careful investigation does he realize—

when you're with jon, his best friend, when he spies in on you at the little farm you now live in, currently alone with someone whom you call your true son, that he comes to realize just how much that nickname means so much to him, as your voice, with that soft tone, scold his friend with that familiar warmth you always used to direct at him with the softest of gaze, an angel unlike the sea of rich bastards he meets at the galas who only communicate with him to form connections, advantages by being associated with a family of the wayne's.

it's only when you're stripped away from him that he realizes how much he relishes your sweet occupancy into his heart, how there's always been an unbidden, forbidden chamber in his heart that beats for the love you offer him that was unlike the harsh environment he was born in.

he's never been adorned with such a delicate title that portrays him the opposite of what he's raised to be; damian has always been the blood son, son of the bat and heir to the demon king's throne, but never something as fond, as unforeseen as someone's baby.

it just thwarts the spark of hope in his heart and extends the lump in his throat at the scene that plays before him, the loving nickname you oh-so carefully address him now relinquished and graced to another boy, his friend no less— who you considered yours, who he's aware is way more deserving of being called your baby rather than him, who had always denied you from the very start.

"jon, baby, you help me clean the windows tomorrow, alright, young man? it's stained with all your fingerprints!" you scold him as assertively as you can, kneeling down to his level and pinching his cheeks all while grinning at the boy. jon retorts with a tongue out his lips and a scrunch of his nose. it garners a laugh from you, one damian swore he's never heard sounded so desirable until now.

why are you calling jon your baby?

"not my fault, mom/dad! i get so excited to see you come home every time you have to return there!" damian seethes at the scene of jon's pouting and puppy-eyes looking up at you, that should've been him.

"can't you just stay here? forever?"

damian despises how he engraves the melody of your laughter in reply to jon's words, right into his eardrums, but omits the disgustingly sweet chirp in your voice calling jon, not him, your baby. his mind nips away at the memories at all the moments you addressed him too, and how he always rejected and corrected you to call him by his name like a proper person rather than a maniac pushing themself into his life.

he doesn't want to ever hear you address him, if it means it's not by his nickname that you now call jon.

damian couldn't even deny how the huge grin that stretches across your face at the sight of his best friend scalds him with bitterness, he wasn't even aware you're capable of such enjoyment, not when back at the manor your hesitant with even displaying a tinge of happiness— as if you're capable of doing so, not when he knows he's one of the main contributors for being the reason of your current affair.

and yet he wishes he could lie and say he didn't miss it, miss your expectant stare at him, the contrast of talia's comfort compared to yours, when the hugs you offer him, the gifts carefully curated to his preferences, the palpable love that never once wavered for your family that you could never call yours, they all seem like a distant dream now that you're away from them; from him.

it hurts watching you two communicate even further, for once it's him in the background watching like an outsider instead of you. for once, he understands what isolation feels like, what foreboding desires fester deep into his scarred soul that could only be cured with one of the softest cuddly hugs, the sweetest, flutter of your lashes as you stare oh-so fondly at jon like he meant the world to you, like it was only the two of you in the world embracing the light filtering through the windows, side by side, inseparable.

if there was one wish he could conjure, a desire he was trained to forfeit himself to feel that creeps its way into the depths of his guarded heart— it's that once you put jon into bed - even if it takes hours, even his heart feels like it's being squeezed out of blood watching your nightly, affectionate routine with jon; reading him bedtime stories, eating together, laughing lightly at the dinner table while you feed him your share of the plate, moments he never thought he felt compelled to spend with you - once he strikes at the perfect opportunity to talk to you, to confront your blunder of choosing them over him, of his woes towards your relationship—

he wishes, with unceasing faith, that you still love him enough to call him your baby once more.

a/n: let this blow up and i might just actually fix my schedule to give more updates. anyways, more damian wayne and jon kent content! one of my fave runs is with supersons and i love fluff paired with angst too so this is a win-win. pls leave in some comments about this series, since ngl i didn't give it as much love as i did for a&a 😭 so yes! mitski inspired chapter with more conflicting feelings. i'm still working around writer's block but everyone's undying support helps motivate me a lot!!!

taglist:

@starrydollita, @vellichorandhiraeth, @chericia, @queenofspades403, @naina326, @neerathebrightstar, @lilyalone, @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @nickey-diano, @tsuniio, @ssak-i, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lollipoppersposts, @peptox, @kdjhubby, @weirdcore-fantasy.

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bighitfics · 7 months ago

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jungkook fics i can read all night all day seven days a week.

(a recommendation you didn’t know you needed) ₊⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Vows Of Betrayal ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook

— contract marriage au, enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst.

(I will never not scream about this! this is my current favourite read! the enemies to lovers really hits in this one! AND THE SMUT SCENES ARE SO GOOD THEY MADE ME PREGNANT SO I RECOMMEND!) 😩💳

Inevitable ౨ৎ by @ahundredtimesover

— exes to lovers, second chance, parents au, angst.

(this happens to be the cutest story I’ve ever read, the longing and angst is so good!) 🥺🫶🏼

Dextrocardia ౨ৎ by @jeonstudios

— enemies to lovers, fake marriage, cop au, angst.

(this story should be arrested for being so damn good! i love how intense the enemies phase is before they start softening towards each other, the way the author managed to portray the patriarchal issues through this story is incredible, i never thought i’d say this but im an anti of jungkook in this story 😤😡 he better apologise with crocodile tears otherwise he can say goodbye to y/n.

You’re Still Mine ౨ৎ by @wattpadauthour

— workaholic husband jungkook, marriage in trouble trope, second chance.

(THIS STORY IS GONNA BE MY FOREVER FAVOURITE FOR A LONG LONG TIME! NO MATTER HOW MANY STORIES I READ I WILL ALWAYS GO BACK TO RE-READ! LIKE READ IT RIGHTAWAY IF YOU HAVENT! 😤)

Four-Seven-Eight ౨ৎ by @jiminrings

— marriage in crisis, angst, more angst, fluff.

(the heartache you’re gonna feel while reading this is no joke, i really felt sad for the y/n here (and cried a river) AND I LOVE IT WHEN BOOKS MAKE ME CRY LIKE THE WORLD IS ENDING TOMMOROW 😻💋 you know its gonna be worth it)

Time After Time ౨ৎ by @hiseyestell

— doctor au, she fell first but he fell harder (but much later), fluff.

(by far the most realistic fanfic I’ve read, jungkook is so cold that you wanna smack him in his stupid head, the female oc is so smitten with him its adorable but sad at the same time) ☹️

His Clumsy Secretary ౨ৎ by @hwangguemfictions

— grumpy x sunshine, he fell first and harder, office romance, major angst.

(this fanfic is criminally good! especially the bgm, the dialogues, the way he’s just so endeared with her, this is a big smash!) 🤰🏻🫦

The Deepest Marks Of Essence ౨ৎ by @lleldey

— tribe leader jungkook, yandere au, smut, angst.

(my favourite writer for a reason! 🫴🏼 i can never stop obsessing over yer unique storylines and writing, she’s my new favourite tbh and this story will convince you as well) 🤭💕

Marrying The Vicount ౨ৎ by @taevjim

— rich man x poor girl, regency era au, smut, filthy fluff.

(my two worlds colliding fr! this author wrote it so beautifully 😍🤌🏻 jungkook as a vicount tho (im already crying between my legs) this is like a fever dream come true, this is so effing good that i think no words are fair enough, maybe you should take a look yourself! (i swear this is worth the read!!!!)

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saetiate · 2 months ago

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FORSAKEN BY ALL THE GODS.

info: prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, fantasy au, arranged marriage, eventual smut. afab reader w she/her pronouns. reader has an established backstory and is not weak, reader’s appearance is nondescript. reader calls him “mihya” as they get closer. oliver and karasu are bffs in this lol. maybe some angst if you squint. happy ending!! plot is balanced with comedic moments.

synopsis: You will be killed by the one you love most. That line from his prophecy has haunted Kaiser his whole life. Against it all, you stand before him. Will you be the one to rewrite fate itself?

word count: 14k (please don’t let this scare you, i promise my writing is efficient)

a/n: this might be my magnum opus, i promise i poured my best dialogue and writing into this and it shows. if you consider reading like so seriously i will love you forever. also the smut is huge just like his cock <3 or my heart

Kaiser has been forsaken thrice fold. First, by his parents. His mother is said to be a beautiful woman that captured the hearts of all. His father could not bear her ultimate betrayal: leaving, causing him to wither away to nothing.

Kaiser guesses that this aspect of her runs in his blood after all.

The second and third time he is forsaken happen at once.

On the night that Kaiser is, by royal decree, anointed successor to the throne, he does as tradition dictates. He approaches the golden temple at the top of a mountain and mirrors the prophet within, sitting cross-legged in front of them.

The prophet gazes into the distance. And then, like a man possessed, they speak.

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will be killed by the one you love most.

Kaiser swears he feels even his heart stop at that. Cold rushes through him, the chill of it colder than anything he had felt at the front lines of war.

Forsaken by all the Gods —

The prophet stops, staring into the distance with a frown.

The silence is deafening. Noa, despite tradition, interrupts the ceremony and approaches the prophet, clicking his fingers in front of their face.

“The prophecy?”

The prophet’s eyes widen with fear. “I- I cannot.”

“What, are you afraid?” Kaiser scoffs. “The prophecy is bad as it is, it can’t get much worse than that.”

“No, I mean I cannot. The — the Fates! They’ve stopped speaking to me!”

“Excuse me?” Kaiser’s scowl is evident, and Noa swears that in any other situation, Kaiser would’ve moved for his sword and set his blade ablaze.

It speaks volumes that all he does is stare right at the prophet, fear barely contained in his eyes.

The prophet grips at Noa’s hand, forcing his gaze. “My lord, please believe me. This — in the history... it has never happened before. I swear it.”

Noa whistles, and the guards outside come rushing in. “Seize them,” he commands, and they stare at each other for a moment.

To seize and capture that which is considered holy? Is that not blasphemy?

Noa cares little, almost removing his sword from his sheath to do it himself. “What are you all waiting for?”

“My lord! I swear to you!” The prophet grapples towards Noa in spite of their hands being held behind their back, the guards barely catching them from falling to their knees. “The fact that I would admit this at all shows my loyalty to you!” The prophet gasps, breath coming fast.” I could have pretended, could have given a false prophecy. I did not. That’s the choice I made. That is all the proof you need.”

It’s convincing enough that Noa hesitates, taking a deep breath in. But he sees in the corner of his eye Kaiser’s state, sitting in the kind of stillness that you see before a battle, bent over at the bottom of the altar.

At that sight, Noa makes a single motion with his hand for the prophet to be taken away.

The room clears.

“Kaiser, I —”

Whatever comforting remark Noa might have made dies in his throat, because Kaiser laughs, a bitter and broken sound, that he would in the future rarely have his walls down to ever reveal again. He hides his eyes behind his hand and he laughs.

“Of course, my prophecy would come to something like this.” He drags his hand down across his face. “Forsaken by all the Gods.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Noa says it with conviction, and it’s enough for Kaiser to face him.

“Master?”

“You will still be the successor to the throne. As is your destiny.”

“My destiny?” Kaiser jabs a thumb to the now-empty seating. “We just heard my destiny.”

“What the gods have declared has nothing to do with me. I declare you the next to rule. That is all.”

Noa presses a hand to the crown of Kaiser’s head. “No one will know what transpired here. A tragic prophecy is a given. It is meant to be a trial of sorts, after all. Mine, too, was unpleasant. Though not nearly as dire.”

“What was yours?”

Noa breathes in deeply. “A twisted rivalry with a twisted man. One that was to be all-consuming to me.”

Kaiser scoffs. “A rivalry. Just train and win.”

Noa lets the comment pass, staring out of the temple and past the mountains. “The rivalry came and went. At the time, I felt it was the worst. I could not eat, sleep, or breathe without the thought of what he would do next on my mind. But I was lucky, that it passed.”

He motions for Kaiser to take his arm, bringing him back up to standing. “Yours will pass too, I’m sure of it.”

Kaiser waves his hand, gesturing at Noa to let go of him. It’s easy to say, easy to have faith when it is not your life that balances on the precipice.

Forsaken thrice: once, by his parents. Another, by the Gods. And third, by his own future lover. Kaiser curses the Gods and the Weaver for such a fate, for something possibly worse than death is looming over him.

You will be killed by the one you love most. That line has haunted his very being to this day.

The people do not know what causes their successor to turn so cold, as biting and harsh as winter itself. His quicksilver smile rattles bones, his sword is cutting like blood in snow.

The prophecy is on a need-to-know basis, and Kaiser has never been crueler. He trains, harder than ever. Enough that when an unmovable sword is found at the rocks of the ocean, he trains until he is able to pull it from the bank, wield it with one hand. Rumor has said it might take three men to carry, or that the night sky that shimmers across it is strong enough to kill even a god. His sole retrieval of it is proof to the people of his strength and stature, but compassion and love are rarely a topic of conversation with his name.

He focuses on his work. He does not take lovers. He barely sees others as friends. And he most certainly does not take a bride.

You appear before the throne and you do not bow. The scowl on Kaiser’s face at this says enough.

“You dare-”

“You have the sword.” You ignore Kaiser entirely, setting your sights completely on Noa.

The silence that follows is as large and wide as the ocean, but your gaze is sharp and keen, never faltering once until Noa speaks.

“Water sorceress,” Noa addresses you coldly, “or that’s what you told our people.”

“Yes.”

“You are not the only sorceress of water. Yet your power is second to none.” Noa stands, stepping down the stairs with heavy, thumping footfalls until he’s standing right in front of you. “They call you the water’s mistress, in the neighboring lands.”

“They do.”

He begins to circle you, like a hunter might before striking a deer. Standing next to you, his deep voice clear right next to your ear, he eyes you curiously. “They’re all wrong, aren’t they?”

You don’t answer. Noa takes that as answer enough.

“A power like that. Do you think me stupid?” He observes you, checks you visually for weapons, watches your hands to ensure you don’t call magic forth.

“Demigod.” He about spits the word from behind you, and yet all you do is tilt your head to catch him in your eye’s view.

“You are as well-informed as they say.”

“I am as logical as they come.”

“We are the same in that regard, then. So let’s get straight to the point.”

Noa returns back to the throne, seemingly satisfied with his observing, gesturing at you to continue.

“You have something belonging to me. A sword, heavier than most. Ancient, yet sharp. It is said to look like it contains a night sky.”

“The blade you’re speaking of was found by us, it is ours to keep.”

In the short silence that follows, Kaiser swears there must be irritation on your end, but you don’t show it. Instead, you take a deep breath in.

“The blade was thrown out of the heavens and spat out into this realm during a war between Gods.”

“Is that so? And how can you prove it’s yours?”

“I can wield it, unlike your people, who do not have the means to wield a sword as such.” You state simply.

Like rose grown blue, the impossible becomes possible. You can feel the divinity and the power that comes off the sword in waves the minute it’s unsheathed, your eyes widening. The ring of it is as familiar to you as your own skin, how could you not have felt its presence sooner? But Kaiser is fast, much faster than you expected, faster than he should be with a sword of that weight, that magnitude. Before you can turn your head, cold silver kisses your neck.

“This blade, sorceress?” He comes around from behind you, stalks around you just like his Master had, sword pointed like it may just draw blood from you at any moment. When you finally see his face, his sneer is wicked.

He takes pride in your wide-eyed gaze, your sharpened attention, but the lack of fear on your part grates at him. God-killing, they had called the blade. Yet you don’t shy away at all.

“Say we return the sword to its rightful owner,” Noa calls back your attention, “what would you offer us in return?”

“Offer in return? This sword does not belong to you. It is returned, as it should be.”

“This sword, with its divinity, could harm even a god.” Kaiser presses the blade closer to your neck, gleaming metal against your skin. “It protects this nation. What if the gods forsake us? If we return it to you, what would protect us against them then?”

“For what reason would they do such a thing?”

Kaiser barks a laugh. “Of course, there would be no criticisms from one of them. Water sorceress, demigod. Tell us, who are you, truly? What do your people call you, up there? No matter.” He lowers the sword, but leaves it unsheathed, its heavy weight balanced in his palm. A threat that at any moment, he may change his mind. “Those titles mean nothing to me. I have been forsaken, demigod. So know, I trust not even the gods.”

You sigh. Foreseeing a troublesome future has its cons, you suppose. Your queen would smile if you told her such.

“You ask for something with power in equal to or more than the blade. You asked me for my titles. I shall give you both.” The sleeves of your dress shimmer as you move them, and it’s in this moment that Kaiser notices they are not sleeves but water itself, cradled around your wrists like armor. “The Gods had bestowed on me the title Sword Maiden, and I offer myself and my services to you until the end of your line.”

That shocks the room like a bucket of cold water.

You turn to Kaiser, who stands beside the throne. You step forward once, and water rushes underneath that step, descending in waves over the floor as if it goes through it, a magic they have never witnessed prior. “You say the Gods have forsaken you? Let my presence be proof to you that they still watch over you.”

Kaiser scowls, “What sort of cheap trick is this?”

“My domain is truth. I cannot lie.”

“Oh, please.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “Would it help for you to press your sword against my neck once more?”

A goddess who cannot lie. Noa’s faith lies in logic, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His gaze flits between Kaiser and you before he seems to settle a decision in his mind.

“Until the end of Kaiser’s line.” Noa negotiates.

Kaiser’s gaze snaps to Noa. “You’re taking her up on this?”

You almost frown. “Fine.”

Noa quirks an eyebrow at you. “That simple?”

“Human lives move quickly.”

Kaiser eyes you curiously. “What happens when you lie?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Is that… almost a flustered look you have on?

He readjusts his grip on the blade. “Speak, sorceress.”

“Wh-What do you want me to say?!” You grip at your dress nervously, and that has him even more curious.

“I’m waiting here,” he sing-songs playfully.

“Before the lie can leave my voice, my neck swells up like a balloon, and chokes me.”

He smiles wickedly. “Demonstrate.”

Gods, if it wasn’t immoral, you could wring his neck right now.

You think, for even a moment, a simple lie. And in seconds, you’re almost suffocating on nothing, and Kaiser laughs. Laughs. A full laugh, bending at his knees.

“Oh gods, you’re like a pufferfish!”

You let go of the lie, taking heaving breaths. “Just because I have water capabilities does not mean I am a fish.”

In the midst of the conversation, Isagi leans against Noa’s side, a soft conversation full of worry.

“You’ll have to explain her presence to the council,” Isagi tells him, blue eyes wide with hesitation.

“Right, and your suggestion?”

“I have thought about it, considerably. If you say you hired her, with a force as powerful as her, the other nations may think you are to wage war. So… Given the heir’s… reputation,” Isagi’s gaze flits nervously between you and Kaiser. “If he is willing, she may be a good fit.”

Noa sighs. This, this exact theory, has been a conversation with the other members of his team for months. That a wife by his side would make him seem less chilling, make the transition to a new heir easier on the public, prevent outroar. It is one thing to feel that Kaiser keeps a nation safe, and another to love him as a ruler.

It’s an easy decision, but a hard conversation.

“Kaiser.”

He whips around, ceasing his antics quickly. “Master.”

Noa looks like he is about to say something to him, but hesitates, turning to you instead. Isagi nervously steps away from the dais, returning to his position.

“Goddess,” this time, there is no malice behind Noa’s words. “I accept your offer. However, your presence in this nation and in this castle must be explained appropriately. Should I bear you the title of my successor’s betrothed, would that be a title you’re willing to bear?”

Kaiser’s back straightens. “Excuse me?” he utters low.

“You do not have to bear children,” he specifies. “And you do not have to truly be wed.”

A goddess, to be betrothed to a mortal, as princely as he is, is a serious affair. Kaiser slides his gaze to Isagi, with the audacity to even suggest such. And yet, you seem to ponder it like a simple question.

“I see. As long as the sword is in my presence and protection, how you communicate with your nation is none of my concern.”

“So be it, then,” Noa agrees quickly. “I’ll have our people show you to a room.”

You nod, and are whisked away. The throne room, as if knowingly, empties quickly, guards rushing out to leave Kaiser alone with Noa.

“You made this decision for me,” Kaiser spins to face Noa, spits his words through gritted teeth. “I have been clear. I will take no brides.”

“You believe the prophecy made a choice for you.”

“The prophecy bears no mercy. Or do you wish for my death so eagerly? If so, take your sword out and do it your damn self.”

Noa lets him speak, heave his words out until there’s silence once more.

“She cannot lie,” Noa says softly. “She cannot lie to you, Kaiser. And she is a goddess, a divine being.”

“Demigod,” Kaiser corrects.

“She is divine, and she cannot lie. She is correct, to this end – that as long as she is here, the prophecy cannot come to be. For she has not forsaken us.” Forsaken you, goes unspoken. “She could be good for you, if you allowed her to be.”

Kaiser lets out a canned laugh. “Ha. How can the divine ever understand us?”

Noa stands. “You’ll have plenty of time to find out.”

Kaiser taps his hand against his sword hilt. “You really will not move on this?”

Noa shakes his head. “She is too valuable to lose, and you have a reputation for cruelty. The solution is nothing short of perfect.”

The logical comes above his feelings. Kaiser knows this, even if he hates to come face to face with it.

Noa walks out of the throne room, leaving Kaiser to his bitterness.

“Shitty master,” he mumbles under his breath to no one.

It’s jarring to all the guards, the way you don’t even stand let alone bow when Noa knocks to enter your room. But Noa cares little for things like that, if you’re truly offering what you’ve said.

“Perhaps I was too hasty, in presenting the solution before giving you the facts.” He hesitates before you in the reflection of your vanity. You don’t respond, barely even look at him as you unclasp your jewelry, laying it on the table.

“He will not love you.” Noa tells you after a breath, his surefire eyes finally meeting yours.

You give him a curious gaze. “That is likely for the best. I would outlive him, after all.”

“It is, truly, on a need-to-know basis. To tell you this-”

“The prophecy, I presume you’re referring to,” you interrupt, turning to face him.

The shock rolls quickly off him. Divinity does have its mysteries, he supposes. “You already know.”

“I asked the water, why he is so quick to believe he is forsaken. They told me that he lives under the burden of a prophetic trial. That is all I know.” You stand, moving to unzip your dress only for Noa to hastily pull a partition screen across the room and turn around.

“The water, it speaks to you?”

“It does. Though it’s worth noting that it does not make me all-seeing.” Your voice carries over the partition with the ruffle of clothing. “The queen of the Gods, who sees all fates – she is the only one who is truly all-seeing.”

You come out in a nightgown, folding the partition back. He chucks you a robe that you catch easily.

“You should learn the ways of this world if you want to pass as a simple water sorceress, especially before the banquet.”

You frown. “The prince is my betrothed, is he not? Will he not handle it all?”

The idea you present sparks in Noa’s mind. “Brilliant. I’ll have Kaiser and some of the other members of our team show you the ropes. Good night, sorceress.”

You nod to him, and the door clicks shut.

“She’s a what?”

Oliver slams his metal cup of beer down, rolling the dice once more.

“A demigod, Oliver. Gods, are you that drunk already? Keep up.” Karasu grabs at the dice as Oliver moves his pieces.

“Can you all shut the fuck up? What happened to need-to-know basis?” Chigiri slinks himself over to their table.

“We’re need-to-know.” Karasu jabs a thumb at himself and Oliver.

“They are, actually, need-to-know.” Isagi puts a gentle hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, settling down next to him. “Because she’s never been human in her life.”

“And now we’re supposed to, what, teach her to be human? Is that a thing we can do?” Chigiri twirls a strand of hair between his fingers, tapping the end against Isagi’s cheek.

Oliver snorts. “What, like a class? Some of us have never sat in one of those, you prissy little shits.”

“She can’t dance, for one.”

“Get Kaiser to teach her. Isn’t he her betrothed?”

That has Oliver almost spitting out his drink, choking on it in coughs. “He's her what?”

Chigiri scowls in his direction. “Dude, are you listening at all?”

“If she’s really his betrothed, none of us should be teaching her.” Oliver warns genuinely. “He’ll cut down everyone here, before he lets us touch her.”

“It’s just an excuse,” Isagi waves his hand, pulling out a leather-bound bind of notes. “They’re not actually together.”

“Oh, you actually got that motion to pass. Shit.” Karasu remarks admirably.

“It must be so tiring,” Bachira sighs happily, falling into place next to Isagi, “to have to actually care about what other people think.”

“The optics, Bachira,” Isagi smacks the end of his pen across Bachira’s nose, and he makes an oh! sound in response.

When Kaiser walks in, the room almost goes silent. He’s used to it, of course. Hearing only the way his footfalls come heavy, boots thumping into the stone floor as a drink is placed right in front of him immediately.

The room slowly fills back with noise as he shoulders off his coat, wrapping it around the chair before sitting. But only his table is still strangely silent.

He flits his gaze over the group. Usually, they’re the first to kill the silence in the room, yelling about the game or a duel. He looks at Isagi, specifically, who seems the most nervous. “Something you wanna say to me?”

“Uh…”

Chigiri sighs, killing the tension. “We’re deciding who gets to teach her how to dance.”

Kaiser quirks an eyebrow. “The demigod?”

Chigiri nods, and Kaiser takes a long gulp of his drink, popping it back down and twirling the top of it with his fingers. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” It’s Isagi’s turn to be shocked, sitting up straight.

Kaiser exhales audibly. “None of you could handle her. She could cut you with water the moment you accidentally step on her.”

It’s not an insult, really. They know this too. That this is Kaiser’s brand of protection, to add insult to injury just to keep others out of harm’s way. But they play his game.

“Think we can’t dodge fast enough? A bit demeaning, don’t you think?” Oliver’s grin is wicked, making straight eye contact with Kaiser, who only draws his eyebrows in at his direction.

“You think that god-killing sword is gonna save you?” Karasu asks.

“I don’t have the sword anymore.”

“What?”

It stings more than it should, he thinks. The sword that he thought chose only him, so quickly released from his grasp. But his strength is his own, he holds fast to that.

Kaiser glances at Karasu. “Those are the terms. She marries me, she gets the sword.”

Ness rests his cheek on his hand. “Man, that sounds like she wins twice.”

Chigiri scoffs at that. “She’s a demigod. Being down here is probably like being in the sewers to her.”

Kaiser stands abruptly, pushing his drink aside, his coat billowing as he wraps it over himself once more.

“Where are you going?” Isagi yells, but he doesn’t answer.

“He gone for real?” Oliver elbows Karasu. “I’m too drunk to tell.”

“Yeah, man. He’s gone”

“Great.” Oliver slaps a piece down. “I’ll bet 50 bucks right now they get married for real.”

“What the fuck?” Chigiri tilts his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it might give him some reprieve.

Karasu laughs, “Okay, I’ll play. I’ll bet 20 that they try to kill each other.”

“You’re just a hater.”

“Nah, I agree,” Reo leans back in the booth. “Kaiser’s a lot of things, but a loving husband is a bit much.”

“She’s a goddess. He’s literally already betrothed to her.” Oliver takes another swig. “Y’all ain’t gonna marry a goddess if she was given to you? Damn, put me in his place, I’ll do it right now.”

Kaiser trains, every morning, from sunrise to noon.

You only know because most of the rooms in the palace outlook to a self-contained field. You see him, often, because of this, even if he doesn’t speak to you. As you walk down the corridor, in your classes with Isagi about the current climate of the nations.

“It is useless for me to learn this,” you tell him. “In a few short millennia, the border of the nations will undoubtedly change. And we will have to relearn it all again. What is the use? Why war at all over something so insignificant? Just have a conversation about it.”

Isagi makes a pointed, bored expression at you for this, and then pretends like you didn’t say anything at all.

At the end of class today, you press your elbows to the open windowsill.

Kaiser is there, sparring with Ness. Ness is quick, agile, fleet-footed and runs circles around Kaiser so much so that it almost makes it difficult to keep up.

Kaiser approaches him at bone-breaking momentum, launches strike after hardened strike. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around the bottom of his torso, and his body is streaked with sweat. He’s strong, clearly. Broad shoulders clear now from when they were hidden under layers of clothing the first time you met him, the muscles in his arms flexing and relaxing with each step of the friendly duel, hair dipped in saltwater blue.

You know what he looks like, now. You get a sense why Fate brings you here.

He looks like a hero.

The kind that Gods covet, watch from their merry clouds. It’s no wonder that he’s burdened by a prophetic trial, with a face as cutting as his sword, his hair framing his face and flowing.

He takes one look to the side of him and his eyes find yours immediately. It must be some sort of fighter’s sense, you think. For him to have done it so easily.

You give him the space you think he might be asking for. You turn away.

He approaches you one night, just before sunset. Karasu had just finished an etiquette lesson with you, setting away forks and knives. Whatever he sees on Kaiser’s face makes him move quicker. He nods once to Kaiser, and then hastily leaves.

“You’ve been making yourself quite at home here, demigod.” Kaiser traces the lace outline of the tablemat, every ridge under his calloused finger.

“I vowed myself to your kingdom to the end of your life. I’m simply doing what is asked of me.”

“And you’re all ready for the banquet, I’m guessing?” The sentence is almost mocking as he approaches you.

“It’s just a ball, is it not? I’ve been told I’m just to stand there and make pleasantries.”

Kaiser chuckles, more bared teeth than sweet. “It is, arguably, the worst part of being so-called royalty.”

“You’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

"To say no to a goddess' proposal would be the greatest blasphemy, no?"

"From what I've seen, you have not minded sacrilege much at all."

“Marriage means little to me. Disillusioned, perhaps, with the prophecy.” He waves his hand like he speaks of something meaningless. But you see it clearly. Before he had even allowed himself the thought of love, it was taken from him. “Your power is great, your presence ensures the continuation of myself as an heir and successor. Even I can reason with that.”

He's right in front of you now, so close you can feel his body warmth.

“Does it bother me?” He shrugs. “Sure. As far as I’m aware, you are no wife of mine. But a protector of this nation? For that, you are an indispensable ally.”

He looks out the window, towards a coming sunset. Something indescribable on his face, like grief and guilt all in one. He takes a deep breath in and out, inhaling the peace and exhaling the heaviness of his heart, before facing you again. “A war is coming. No one believes me, but I can feel it, as steady as a river’s current. Until then, I’ll make my peace with you.”

You nod. “So be it, your highness.”

That has him stepping back, more incredulous than you’ve ever seen him, body tensed and frowning. Maybe he should’ve expected it, given the way he’s just dismissed you. “Your highness? You hadn’t questioned my lineage before, but now you dare to do so?”

You stare at him blankly. “You are a prince, are you not? Isagi says that’s what princes are called.”

One side of his mouth upturns in relief, and he bursts out a bright laugh. “Is that what they teach you in those lessons Isagi gives? Oh,” a hand runs through the front of his hair, “I thought my own wife-to-be would dare insult me.”

You scoff. “I have no need for that.”

“The title ‘your highness’ doesn’t apply to this nation because strength is valued most. I am heir to the throne not because of the blood running through my veins, but because Noa deemed I the strongest — not just in body but in mind, not just in physical strength but in adaptability.” He says it proudly, like fact, like a knowing so deep within him that it turns pride into faith. “A title like that is something used by the Itoshi brothers, let’s say,” he comments airily. “Their throne is carried by a bloodline.”

He turns on his heel, only looking back when he realizes you don’t follow.

“You don’t know how to dance yet, do you?”

You lean your hip against the table. “I can dance.”

“Come, then. If you’re to be my wife, it’ll be an embarrassment if you don’t at least act like it.”

You follow him to a ballroom – a stunning, wide area with a looping chandelier, curtains that weigh down in arches over each floor-to-ceiling window.

He swoops you from your distraction with a hand around your waist, and the physical contact shocks you so greatly that orbs of water swirl in your hands.

Kaiser only raises an eyebrow at you. “This is a dance, not a duel. Or do the gods do it differently?”

For a man who was so passive to you, he holds you so close that your chest to chest, you can feel each breath he takes against you. When he steps with you, his movements are slow and deliberate, never inefficient. He moves not with fluidity, but with each sure step. Pulls you forward, then pushes you back. Circles you, spins you around.

It’s exactly like when you see him train. Like steps to a kata.

“I thought you said this was not a duel.”

“These are steps to a classic waltz, demigod.”

“You have no fluidity to you.”

Kaiser scoffs. “Should I apologize? With the prophetic curse hanging above me, I haven’t taken a dancing class.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Hm?”

“The prophecy. It doesn’t have to be a curse.”

He stops, separating himself from you, scowling.

“This session is over.”

“Kaiser-,”

“What?” He snaps. “You, of divine nature. You want to tell me how to view my prophecy?”

“I do not say this out of pity, or out of some sort of higher knowing.” You say it with conviction. “As heir to the throne, a throne that is currently being held by Fate itself, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this at all.”

“And yet?”

“To know your fate is to be able to defy it.” And maybe it’s just an effect of your divinity, but it rings like a bell, like truth itself. “Your prophecy may have made a wound, but you are the one who cuts it open. You are a man who wields a sword that cannot, should not be able to be wielded by anyone but the divine. Does that not say something? About you, about your capabilities?”

“And yet you took it from me.”

The silence that follows is thick with indecision. Kaiser lets the uncomfortableness sit, rejects every heartwarmed statement you make with a roll of his shoulders, like water off a smoothened rock, replaced with only his anger. “I trained for weeks before I could lift that sword out of the riverbank. Yet it is yours, now, simply because you are supposedly its rightful owner.”

Conflict runs through your face so clearly, he wonders that even if you could lie, whether it would mean anything at all. He watches as your hand reaches into a conjured puddle of water that floats in the air, and out comes the divine sword.

You hold it in your hand with an ease that he has spent months capturing. It strikes envy in him like a branded sear.

“My role here is technically to secure the sword. I have no need to wield it.” You hold it at the bottom of its handle, directing the top of it to him. “If you swear you won’t lose her, I can set a compromise of sorts.”

“You think I’d agree to a compromise?”

You open up your palm, and a bracelet appears. “This will help you keep the sword in a pocket dimension we can both access. If you’re willing to place it there to secure it when you’re not using it, I’ll return her to you until the end of your line.”

Huh. A safe-keeping place is a more neutral proposition than he had thought you’d come up with. To have her back kills the fight in him, and he accepts begrudgingly, testing the magic in his hands until it becomes natural.

“For the record, Kaiser, I have not always been worthy of it.”

Something about the way his name slips off your lips has him keening. “Worthy?”

“I stayed true to my course. I was given a title. And then I could wield the sword, presented to me by my queen.”

“Your queen. Heir to the throne.” He laughs bitterly, knowingly. “You’re a princess.”

“Despite your mocking tone, I’ll have you know that title of mine is of the highest regard. I don’t take it nearly as lightly as you do with yours.”

“That’s why you didn’t bow or kneel. You take what’s meant to be yours without a second thought. Not because you’re unknowing, or because of some godly pride, but because you have never been lesser.” He flicks a finger between your eyebrows. “What a spoiled thing you are. Can you even fight?”

Something in Kaiser takes pride in the way you frown more deeply, it’s almost like a pout. It’s almost…

“Well, I definitely wasn’t sitting idly in the war between Gods.”

“I’ve never seen you train.”

“That’s because you’re always on the training grounds.”

“Oh? You won’t show me?”

“I’m giving you space. I’m no wife of yours, no?” There’s a sting to it when you say it, having his words thrown back at him.

“Duel with me. Tomorrow.” He spins you, lets you out of his hold before bringing you back in.

He begins to meet you, day after day. A duel first, and then a dance. The dichotomy would be distasteful to any other, but you of divine blood do not even flinch at his request.

He may be displeased to have you, but his mouth cracked as wide and wicked as a cat’s at the prospect of a fight.

“Go on, then.” He takes a blunt, wooden sword, throwing it in your direction. “Or do you only fight with magic?” He teases.

You swing the sword, rotating your wrist with ease. “Do you forget yourself, prince? I am half divine, you will surely lose. Are you sure you want to go through with this anyways?”

His mouth widens, more teeth than smile. “Bring it.”

You know, the moment you defend against his first strike, that a singular hit from him on the battlefield must be deadly. He is surefooted, his whole weight bears down in every move. He doesn’t let you breathe once, much faster than you would’ve thought with someone of his size and height.

Kaiser was almost right about one thing, that the divine adds to your magic more than your physical strength. With enough training, in just simple hand-to-hand combat… He might have the potential to beat you.

But not today. Today, you have him pinned to the ground, makeshift blade to his throat.

“You’re awfully close,” he gasps out slyly. And it’s in this moment that you notice, too, how right he is about that, how you can feel his heartbeat underneath yours, his chest against yours with each exhale.

“What?” He grins wide, “afraid you’ll miss?”

By all the Gods, you want to knock the living daylights out of him. He notices your anger in that hesitation, your conflict between doing what is right and what you want, and flips you over, swapping your positions until his hips are pressed against yours.

Something about your shell-shocked face makes him stir.

“First rule of fighting, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair before planting it next to your head, leaning into you close. “Never get distracted by your opponent.”

He’s closer than he was before, admiring the way you look under him, your hair splayed along the ground and the sweet fire of irritation in your eyes. Is the heaving of your chest from your anger towards him, or from something else entirely?

“When Gods fight, there is not nearly as much prattling.” You grit at him. He smells like the grass of the field and the winter air and the heavy musk of sweat, and when you shove him off, it feels like your hand meets the hard rock of an unruly ocean.

It is during dances that he speaks to you. Not at first, but slowly, like a river that streams into the ocean. You tell him tales about the Gods, about your friends, about wars and petty arguments. And he starts to answer you, more often than not, with every question you might have.

“I have wondered about something.”

“Hm?”

“The sheathing. It prevents even me from detecting the sword’s divinity.”

“Huh, so Nagi really wasn’t lying.”

“Nagi, who is always with Reo?”

Kaiser nods. “They say Nagi was once sought upon by a god for his talents, a god who was constantly sending him dreams. But he grew tired of it, so he found a material that prevents even the gods from finding him so he can sleep in peace.”

The conversation often leads to the prophecy, a bitterness like licorice on his tongue. Even if he skates around the topic, you don’t let him hide from it, cutting straight to the heart of the truth.

“You can live in the cold bitterness you’ve put yourself in, Kaiser,” you tell him, one of these nights. “Or you can live, and maybe even possibly die, warmed by a life you truly felt was worth living. Your own choices. Not because of a prophecy, or because of Noa, or even in spite of me.”

But despite it, he doesn’t move away. Because it is the only time he has you to himself. He sees you, always, with Isagi and Oliver and Karasu and Chigiri. How you have molded into their lives with simplicity, sit with them at meals and have easy conversation despite knowing nothing, in a way that he has never once allowed himself to enjoy. What does it say about Kaiser? That he can't stand your presence but he can't stand your absence even more? That he would rather have a biting argument with you than leave you to your own devices?

It's during duel and dance that he comes as close as he can to touching you. If he did anymore, it would become something he doesn't have the heart to name without unease settling in his gut.

On the day of the banquet, Chigiri sits you down in your vanity, braiding your hair back in his hands.

“The queen of the Gods, her lover, a friend of mine… He used to do this for me too.”

Chigiri silently appreciates that you don’t ask him why it is him that helps you with this. That divinity doesn’t hold the same notions this world does.

“He would-,” you laugh softly to yourself. You’re stunning like this, Chigiri can’t help but notice. A goddess, most casual as can be. “He would say that I was useless at it, actually. You two might’ve been good friends.”

“Me? Friends with a god?” Chigiri finishes the braid, tilting your head in his hands to admire the way the braid crowns around each side.

“Of the Fae, actually. A beautiful man he is. You would fit right in.”

That stops Chigiri, has him taking a sharp intake of breath, smiling at you through the vanity’s reflection. “Thank you, princess. Though you would do good to be more careful during this banquet to compliment anyone.”

You smile softly back. “Ah, yes, my betrothed who will not love me might get jealous. Gods are not so different than people, in this regard.”

“Is that so…”

It’s when you meet the Itoshi brothers at the banquet that you begin to understand why Isagi gave you all these lessons.

Where Kaiser is muscle and sword first, more fighter than prince, Sae and Rin are the opposite. They have a grace befitting of royalty. Instead of heavy footfalls that you can hear even in the blanket of snow, they are light-footed, conscious of it in the echoed ballroom.

Though you suspect, from the way Sae grips Kaiser’s forearm as they shake hands, from the way Kaiser regards Sae, that he is somehow just as strong of a fighter. That royalty is an illusion Sae and Rin put on, for peace’s sake.

Something indescribable flits over Sae’s face as you curtsy in front of him, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced with his nonchalance.

“The betrothed of the banquet. We are most pleased to make your acquaintance.” Sae bows his head to you, and Rin follows in his stead.

You smile, something beaming and sweet. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Would you mind, Kaiser?” Sae’s eyes only leave yours for a glance, to check in at Kaiser’s now furrowed look. “I’d like to take your wife-to-be for a dance.”

Kaiser’s back straightens, a hardened gaze with gritted teeth. But he says nothing. You swear Sae almost grins.

“I’ll return her back to you.” He says it like a favor, and Kaiser is only held back by Karasu’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just one dance, Kai,” Kaiser looks at Karasu, then to you, and then back to Sae. He barely nods once.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

He scowls. “What do I have to be worried about?”

Well, it’s not like you want to anger him further. You let Sae take your hand, leading you to the floor.

“I almost didn't think you were who you said you were, when I saw you,” Sae tells you, breaking the quiet of the dance.

You lean back so you can see his whole face, your confusion clear. “Your highness?”

“When I had heard of you, they told me that waves flowed off your dress like water itself holds you sacred. Yet here you are, as regular as can be.”

Sae twirls you away from him, then brings you back into his arms. “They say you shook the earth with a single step. Where is all that power you were said to hold?” He holds you close, watching your every reaction with his crystal gaze. “This place. They’ve placated you, tamed you.”

He brings his mouth to your ear, the body warmth of his entire chest seeping into yours. “If you were mine, I would never force you into a box you didn’t belong. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of Kaiser, even with his god-killing sword.” He spins you again, capturing your waist. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t be afraid to demonstrate your power to the world.”

“Sae.” He looks at you in a way that feels meaningful. You don’t know the pleasantries of this nation or his in-depth, but you know, somehow, that this feels like this is something you should shield from.

“Oh? No honorifics already? We’re that intimate, are we?”

To fight is one thing, but this is something entirely different. Being able to hurt others with a play instead of a sword, you’re not sure if you can shield others from something like that.

As the song ends, Sae takes your hand, brings it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “Consider my proposition, princess. Before your marriage solidifies, and becomes something you can’t escape from.”

With his hand on the small of your waist, he brings you back to Kaiser dutifully. Kaiser links his arm with yours immediately, before any of you can spare a goodbye.

“What did he say to you?”

You hum. You get the sense that maybe…

“Nothing of importance,” you tell him instead.

“Hm?” He tilts your chin up to meet you eye to eye. “Is my own betrothed keeping secrets from me?”

“He said I don’t seem all that powerful.”

That makes Kaiser smile, not something sweet but with teeth bared, like a wolf. “He hasn’t seen you in action.” He pulls you in, hand wrapping to the back of your neck, a slow and deep whisper. “Do you want to show them?”

“Weren’t we both told that’s inappropriate? Isagi said the optics could make your allies scared.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Isagi this, optics that. Our country has always been about the brawl and brave. Let the nations fear us, then. I, with my cruelty and a god-killing sword. You, a sorceress second to none. It’s a pretty picture, is it not?”

He straps his sword to his back and brings you to the middle of the room, and as the guests of honor, the crowd gives you both a wide berth. He circles you, just like you practiced. Makes you center stage.

“Go on then, princess.” He lets go of your hand and bows, sweeping his arm out. “Show us who you really are.”

“Kaiser,” you whisper. “We have very clear orders-”

“I make the orders, not follow them. So make your choice, princess. Wasn’t it you who said that it is worth living a life warmed by your own choices? Tell me, then. Do you want to show them? Or do you want to play nice?”

This play, to have ego and pride dive head-first into a situation, is so very human. And yet-

You let water overcast your body from your waist, let it roll off in layers like waves into the floor. Anyone who has had experience with magic can see your ultimate control over it, how the floor isn’t wet at all, how the water was conjured from nothing. Your hair is silken with dampness, framing your face like gloss. Gasps and awes from the audience makes Kaiser grin even wider.

“There we go.” Kaiser reaches behind him to unsheath his blade, and the galaxy within swirls. He spins it in his hand, and it’s almost like he’s never been happier.

In seconds, he strikes at you. Your hands move up instinctively, blocking the blade with a stream of water. The sound it makes, divinity against divinity, is like a low bell. The floor beneath you shakes with the strength of the strike, water dispersing around your feet in cascades to cushion the impact. You hear screams of shock, a glass breaking.

“Kaiser,” you grit, but all he does is widen that wicked, quicksilver grin.

And then he laughs, stepping away and sheathing the blade back. He holds one hand out to you instead.

“Next time, I want a duel in front of everyone. But this time, I guess a dance will suffice.”

You exhale gratefully, taking his hand in yours and retracting your water. “Let us dance, then.”

And with none of a prince’s grace, with movements that feel more fight than dance, he drifts along the floor with you.

Isagi collapses into the booth, a palm pressed to his eyebrows. “Our allies thought they were about to fight each other.”

“Can I cash in on my bet now?” Karasu rolls a skewer stick between his fingers. “Because they might’ve almost killed each other.”

“Nah,” Oliver leans back. “I think that’s just foreplay.”

Isagi opens his eyes to find Chigiri and Bachira standing before the booth. Chigiri’s not meeting his eyes, his mouth perching to one side in a way that squishes one of his cheeks.

“What happened?”

“They’re gone.”

“Ha?”

“We had one drink. One.”

Oliver has the audacity to laugh, hand over his mouth. “Don’t worry, Isagi,” he pats him on the back. “I’m sure they’re just fucking around.”

In another corner of the hall, royals speak in low tones.

“We can just take her if you like her,” Shidou tells Sae with the sweetest smile a man like that can muster. “No need to ask poor little Kai-Kai.”

Sae says nothing, eyeing you quietly as you step out of the hall.

You are sitting at the edge of the ocean, letting the slate-crested waves wash over you, when he finds you.

“You can dry me in a moment’s notice if I am to sit with you, right?” He says it almost reluctantly, even though he’s here anyways. He’s dropped his off coat somewhere along the way, and there’s something so naked about seeing him in just a shirt. He almost seems softer, without the harsh lines of battle-ready clothing or the fur that drapes around him, relaxed in a way he wasn’t in the banquet hall.

You smile. “I can keep you dry whilst you're sitting.”

He relents, then. Allowing the strangeness of sitting on wet sand without getting wet.

“Was the banquet up to your expectations, then, Kaiser?”

Expectations. He’s had none of a party like this. Being allowed to dream is a privilege, and privileges were not granted to him.

“You are officially my wife-to-be,” he says instead. “Shouldn’t you call me something a little more intimate?”

You gaze out into the horizon for a moment, and something in your eyes unfocuses, like you’ve gone somewhere else and then returned. “Very well. I shall call you Mihya.”

It strikes a chord in him, like a teaspoon hitting a glass. “Mihya? Where did that come from?”

“The water.”

“She speaks to you?”

“She says in another life, you are given a nickname like that.”

“Another life…” He lies down in the sand, watches the streaks of sunset in the blueing sky.

“Ask then, Mihya,” you lean over him slightly, until all he can see is the sky and the way your features soften. “The question we both know is on your mind.”

He almost wants to reach out, hold your cheek in his hand. It’s a foreign feeling to him, so foreign it almost feels like unease – to want to extend a gentleness like that to another person. “Won’t you just tell me?”

You breathe in the sea-salt air, and breathe out a heart-warmed truth. “The prophecy does not hold you captive in another life.”

Kaiser, for once, lets himself dream. Of a different life, where he is unburdened by a prophecy, and burns brightly.

“It would seem strange if you weren’t together, with all the other guests in the palace.” That’s what Oliver tells you as he gestures for you to take his arm, leading you to Kaiser’s room.

It’s both plainer and more furnished than you thought, like someone who isn’t him had chosen the furniture and the color of the walls. But the items in the bookshelves seem well-loved, items taken out and put back haphazardly, scrolls and books placed back half-way. The bathroom door opens with a flood of light.

“You’re here.” It’s rare to shock Kaiser in a way that doesn’t make him immediately reach for his sword.

You turn to look at him, taking in his half-dressed state. “Were you expecting some other woman?”

“Oh, so you’re the jealous type?”

He almost wants to laugh at the clear discomfort on your face. Gods don’t tease, he’s guessing?

The bed gives way to you as you take your place. “I hear it’s common for princes to take many lovers.”

The moonlight spills over the bedsheets as the room darkens, and you summon the sword to float right above you, looking into it. He joins you, wanting to see exactly what you’re seeing.

“It’s not a night sky.” Your voice is so soft in the blanket of night between you both.

“Hm?”

“Inside the sword. Your people say it looks like the night sky. It’s not. It’s a galaxy.”

He reaches his hand out, tracing over the glass along the middle of the weapon, a silent remark for you to continue.

“At the beginning of all worlds, the first-ever contract was made between the first-ever forces, and with it, this sword was said to be conjured out of the galaxy. And so, a part of the galaxy at the beginning of all worlds was contained in this sword.”

The stars in the sword move within like they’re responding to your words, borne witness to all the events. But instead of watching them, you turn to him.

“You have held and wielded a primordial piece of this world. It has allowed you to hold it, granted you its blessing.”

Blessed. That is not a phrase Kaiser would have ever used to describe himself. But coming from you, he can almost believe it. Almost hope to have a little more than he’s ever had.

The sword disappears with a movement of his hand, and he rolls to lean over you. Silence drops like a curtain. The only sound he knows is your breath and his.

During a fight, his feelings can almost be mistaken for adrenaline. But even under the shadow of the moon, with the cushioned silence between you both, the way you cut straight to the truth rings like a silver bell.

He can’t hide from you. Or maybe. Maybe he’s tired of hiding at all.

He is a man who has only known war and battle, was born and bred into it. War-forged, is what they call men like him. His hands know weapons, know how to kill.

He does not know if they know how to love. And yet-

He cups your face, and drinks you in.

He kisses you with caution, like you might melt from his grasp if he held too tightly. Presses his lips against yours slowly. He runs his hand gently over your hairline as he parts from you.

Is this okay? He wants to ask. But instead, he says: “Tell me what you want.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against yours when you answer: “You.”

And then he kisses you like a man starved, never known by this feeling that gets caught up in his throat with every noise of yours he swallows.

“Is this… is this what you want?” You try to ask as you part from him for air, but he presses his mouth to the space behind your ear instead, laying kisses down your neck. “Is this a decision that you are making for yourself, by your own hands? That is entirely for you?”

That makes him stop. But when he looks at you with a surefire gaze…

He knows it, undoubtedly. That this, for once, is his.

“There are no lovers,” he tells you between kisses, to your shoulder, down your collarbone, to your breastbone.

“What?”

“I take no lovers.” He unclasps your bra, lets the material fall from his hands to cup your supple flesh. “I’ve never been princely, after all.”

“You- Kai-”

He runs his thumbs across both your nipples, admires how they perk up at his administrations, flitting his gaze between them and your face as he brings his mouth down over one of them.

He presses kisses down your body, cups your heat in his hand like he’s begging you to respond, like he’s saying let me have this. The inside of your thighs is soft as cream under his calloused hands. His thumb moves along the outside of your underwear, from your slit up to your clit with his fingers pressing tentatively against the fabric until you’re grabbing at his wrist.

“You’re so tense,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want me to take care of that for you?” He runs the knuckles of his hand over your clothed slit, bumping into your clit with his thumb until your breathing gets heavy, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“Kaiser,” you breathe, and he clicks his tongue.

“That’s not what you call me, baby. Not anymore.”

“Mihya.”

“Mm,” he slides his fingers into your panties from the side, a huff of breath leaves him at the wetness he finds. “Good girls get rewarded, you know?”

Heat coils hot deep in your stomach. He can’t take the restriction, pulling your panties down and revealing your core to the cold air. He lets his slickness pool on his fingers, collects it before bringing it to your clit. It’s like a drug, watching the way your face gives way to pleasure, how your body arches into him.

“Mihya,” you gasp again, like a chant, a prayer. Is this what the gods feel like, to be asked of?

“Let me watch,” he says it like a demand but it aches with desperation, a thing he won’t admit outside these four walls. He presses with more confidence now, slides one finger into you, then two. There’s little resistance with the way he’s riled you up, long fingers pressing into you until he reaches something that has you making a broken moan so pretty he can’t help but tilt into it again.

“I want to see it,” he tells you. This is something he makes happen to you, with his own hands, his own words, his own body that shares its heat with yours. That notion alone runs arousal straight through him. Your panting breath, the way your body shakes with each swipe against your clit.

“I want to see you fall apart in my arms.” He whispers, and you respond in kind. You always do to him, don’t you? He’s been seen too surely by you, now it’s his turn. Your body tenses entirely, tightly, gripping him as he grants you reprieve. A soft whine leaves your mouth along with something like his name, and the rough pad of his thumb circles over your clit until you crash, coming around his fingers.

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, allows himself the gentleness that he’s held back for so long with you.

“One more, okay?”

Your eyes widen. “Mihya,” this time it’s like a warning, but the way you say his name is so breathy it has him pressing a hand over his pants.

“Yeah, say my name just like that.” He shuffles down until his mouth is pressing to your stomach, just above your mound. Then again to the inside of your knee, trailing up until the inside of your thigh, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there.

“You’re-, wait, we just- I just”

“Mm, and you’re gonna give me one more.” He kisses your clit first, like a promise, and then he laps at your core generously, from the bottom of your slit all the way to your clit, his flat tongue against the whole of you. Every drop of slick from your previous orgasm is taken in by him with each moan he makes against your core. If he had known this feeling was going to enter his life, that it would’ve felt like this, maybe he would’ve readied himself better for it. Instead, he finds himself starving at the table where it’s served. The taste of you on his tongue wraps him in a heady pleasure, but it’s every sound he takes out of you that has him pressing a little more insistently, tongue laving over you.

“Pl-please,” your words break between gasps, and it has him lapping into your clit with more pressure.

“I can never say no to you, can I?” he mumbles between your legs. And then he’s flipping you over, hoisting you onto your knees and skimming his hands over your rear and thighs before diving in again. Your face is pressed into the pillow, hands grabbing the sheets. Kaiser almost seems dazed as he moans into your cunt, swollen and wet like a siren’s call, hands wrapped so tightly around your plush thighs that it feels like it might bruise.

“Let me taste,” he mutters, mouth still lodged into your cunt, like that isn’t what he’s already doing. “Come on baby, give it to me. Let me taste it on my tongue.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing as another orgasm rocks through you, your breath coming short as you break apart on his tongue with a whine.

He flips you over again, and the look on his face takes your breath away. Your slick shimmers on his mouth as he trails his tongue over his lips, like he’s addicted, like he can’t get enough. He tilts his head with a grin so cocky that if you weren’t so blissed out you might just punch him.

“There something you want, pretty?” He leans over you, hand to the bedpost, and how broad and tall he is becomes that much more obvious. You let yourself look, at the way his tattoo drapes over his arm, run your hands over the muscle of his torso down to his v-line. You hear a sharp intake of breath as your hand moves lower, running under his loose sleep pants to the base of his cock.

He grabs your hand in his, bringing it over your head and circling both your wrists. “Ask.”

“You-,” your eyes narrow and you huff at him, but it only makes him smile. “Won’t you just-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“I could cut you down here.”

He drops his pants, pumping his cock once and then sliding it along your slit. “You could. And then who’ll give you what you want?”

You want to roll your eyes, but then he has one hand tapping against your clit, the other gripping either side of your cheeks.

“You begged so pretty for me earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he rasps. “What happened to that?”

The harsh look you give him under those fluttering lashes of yours makes something stir in his gut, arousal shot through his veins, pupils wide. He plays with you, warm hands against your skin and between your legs, the soft skin of his cock sliding between your thighs until you’re gasping in his hold again, grinning like a battle won.

“Please, Mihya,” you sigh.

“Mhmm. Please what?”

“Please- please fuck me.”

He gets off on it, watching you yield to him, spreading your legs, dripping your hot slick onto his cock. He presses the head against you, petaled folds opening up to receive him as he slides into you slowly. Just the first few inches is so thick inside of you that your hands wrap around the muscles of his arms, nails digging in.

“Shh, baby, you can take it,” he hushes your little whines, tracing your hairline with such gentleness it contradicts the way he pulls out of you just slightly only to push in again.

“You’re- oh,” your body gives into him, even more so when he brings his hand down to tap on your clit, his mouth over your neck, to the side of your mouth, until he’s kissing you and taking in every noise you make. It’s almost a distraction, helps your body to relax so he can press into you deeper. You think you feel every inch as it enters you, all the way until the hilt, until the head is pressing deep inside of you and his hips meet yours.

He lets out a rough, deep moan against the expanse of your neck, breath coming short as your walls tighten around him.

“Fuck, baby. You gotta let me move.” Your arms wrap around him tighter, a whimper falling from your lips as he tilts his hips up to plunge into you again. It’s hard and slow and deep and if it wasn’t for his grip on you, you might’ve hit the headboard. But he’s careful about it – more than you might’ve thought he’d be. Pressing your body into the bed as his hips meet yours again and again.

“It feels so good,” you tell him, and it has him pressing a kiss to your cheek in return. Makes every moan you make that much sweeter, to know it’s out of your pleasure, to know it’s because of him.

“Good girl. Tell me again.”

“Feels- you’re so big, so- please, I need-” Your walls can barely clench down onto him with how he feels inside of you. Chest to chest with him, the contact of skin on skin-

“You drive me insane,” he grumbles it into your skin; a confession, exacerbated with each thrust of his hips as he picks up the speed, until he’s slamming into you with a kind of strength that has you seeing constellations behind your eyes. He wants you- needs you to feel the way he feels. Needs to have you lying in his bed, thinking only of him and how he makes you feel. Heat pools in your core until you’re arching your back, and he knows it now – knows it like the back of his hand.

“Give it to me.” It’s a command, a need, if you listen closely enough. “Come around my cock. Show me.”

“Mihya, it’s so much, it’s so so much.” It’s treacherous, the way it works through your body, being on the brink.

His thumb is slick over your clit, pressing just a little more, until your thighs are tightening under his unrelenting body. “Come for me.”

You chant his name until the words start to become nothing in your mouth, until you’re breathless, until your whole body tenses under him and his hold against you gets that much rougher and your walls clamp down and then your body shakes as you come. You almost scream, only silenced by his lips on yours. He comes quickly after that, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in how you look underneath him as his cock gets more sensitive and paints the inside of your walls. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow until he feels your body start to relax under his.

You can barely process coming down as he’s kissing you again, deeply and with force, like he’s etching the memory of you into his mind and onto your lips.

For once, he lets himself recognize – how tiring the emptiness has been, to be devoid of this feeling and instead be filled with the fear that it’ll be turned against him. For once, he lets himself feel – to have something that is wholly his. to know and be known. To give and know you will receive. Not an offering at an altar but a hand in his, not a prayer but a soft word spoken in return. Kaiser does not want something as untouching as approval or attention from the divine. But he does want your waist in his arms, your forehead against his.

“Just like this,” he whispers it, a kiss placed to your forehead. You don’t know what he means, too tired to ask.

This is exactly what he’s always wanted. Just like this.

Not unlike a parent, Noa notices the closeness of your relationship. In touch, in stolen glances, in longing. A private conversation with him over afternoon tea is not unique, but the heaviness that weighs on him is.

“As the goddess who cannot lie, I have to ask you.” The hardened look on his face makes you straighten your back, putting down your teacup. “You know, that I have to ask.”

Silence sits between you both like a shoe about to drop.

Noa yields. “Has he truly been forsaken by all the gods?”

You are strangely silent as you look at him, then away, then back.

“Answer me, demigod.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I. Don’t. Know. I have told you before, that I am not a seer, or an oracle. Water holds memory. I can see the past, I can even see other lives parallel to ours, but I cannot see the future. This is the limit of my power.”

“You are of divine nature.”

“I had said what I said at our first meeting, and that has not changed. As long as I am here, the Gods have not forsaken him. For I have not forsaken him. Is that not enough? How many Gods would travel to your realm, vow themselves to a human kingdom? Even if it is I alone that stands before you, is that not enough?”

Noa sighs, more exasperated than you’ve ever seen a serious man like him. “He deserves more, that boy. For what he has been put through.”

“All greatness comes with a price. All heroes face tragedy. He, no matter how much you may care for him, is not the exception to that.” You tilt your head, like a cat with curiosity. But unlike that sweetness, your words are cutting. “You made him a ruler. You made him a hero. So, stand by that. Or does it make you uncomfortable? To consider the role you, too, have played in his life?”

Noa, of course, has thought about this too. Had he not chosen Kaiser to rule, would he have had the prophecy weighing on him like a second shadow?

“If the prophecy holds true, you will inevitably leave him.” Noa swallows, hand flat against the table. “He will inevitably be forsaken, even by you.”

“Then why,” you ask, genuinely, “did you ask me to stay?”

In the weeks that follow, you learn exactly why. Like Kaiser had predicted, talk of battle comes.

“We suspect a neighboring nation wishes to wage war with us.” Noa looks out to the slate-blue ocean from the window of the war room.

“A man who wants control of this whole world,” Karasu huffs. “There’s never a lack of them, is there?”

“He thinks himself a god. Or that’s what Sae has told us.”

“You’re sure Sae’s information checks out?”

“Shidou and Otoya like to visit neighboring nations for uh… fun, let’s say,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, then plants his face in his hands. “He said something along the lines of “you don’t wanna know how they found out” and “Shidou sleeps with both men and women, so it’s been cross-checked too.””

“And then we asked him about war,” Isagi throws his notes down on the table. “He said, and I quote, ‘I already have more land than I know what to do with. What could another few acres give me? What a hassle.’”

“The enemy are bold to come for us first.” Kaiser frowns considerably. They are possibly the one nation blasphemous enough that would not blink at the thought of fighting a god. “There’s something we’re not seeing.”

Isagi nods in agreement. “We still don’t know the reason they’re coming here first. It could be the sword, or the goddess.” Isagi frowns. “I told you not to make a scene at the banquet.”

Kaiser gives him a curious look with a smile he fails to hide. “The point of a banquet is to wow the people. The people were wowed, were they not?”

“It could be, it could not be,” Noa kills the conflict there. “That information would have been made public regardless of the spectacle. It could even simply be the throne itself they seek. An army like ours could parade into the neighboring nations and lay waste, our people are used to much harsher weathers.”

“Or maybe he means to make a statement,” Karasu shrugs. “If he wants to be a god, maybe he means to punish the disrespect we’ve shown.”

“What do we actually know?” Chigiri taps the map of this nation splayed across the table.

“We know he wants to take control of this world, and we know his plan includes something from us.”

“He knows once he controls the world, he has to take care of it, right?” Oliver rests his jaw in his hand. “As in, it’s not just about buying the house, it’s about cleaning it too. The plan – it has to be bigger than this, no?”

“Won’t happen once we kill him here. So as far as we know, there are three things we have that he could want: the sword, the goddess, the army.” Chigiri holds up his fingers as he counts.

“So we’ll meet him with all three at the front lines. Fear does not wield us, after all. Only strength.” Kaiser says it like a mantra. You suspect it might be exactly that.

“What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, princess.”

As an ally, Sae arrived on the day of battle without question. He is much different from the first time you saw him, chainmail armor wraps tight and sleek around his body, clearly of a weight underneath his clothing. He stands straighter, shoulders broader, badges clipped to his outer jacket. It’s clear to anyone who looks at him, that it’s almost like he was born into them – meant for them.

“You’re both on the front lines then?”

“Idle hands,” Kaiser starts.

“Devil’s workshop.” You finish. You hear a horse galloping, then a voice.

“There’s something wrong.” The people give a wide berth as Oliver arrives, with a sleek black mare that’s obedient as can be. “The majority of the enemies’ troops are not in front of us.”

All of you turn to look, but it’s on the front lines that makes it most difficult to tell where the crowd begins and ends.

“I did a rough head count from the tower. This isn’t the count we had observed just the other day. They’ll die easily, like this, against us. And I don’t mean that from an egotistical standpoint. I think these men are here to die, meant to die. It serves to mean –”

“This is a distraction.”

Karasu appears at your side, with an utmost silence only he is capable of. “They’re headed for the main castle, from around the edge of the border.”

You and Kaiser look to each other with a whole silent conversation, and Sae sighs.

“Go on, then.”

You turn to Sae immediately, with a seriousness he doesn’t expect. “You’ll be unprotected.”

“We chopped liver to you, girl?” Shidou sneers.

Oliver drops down from his horse. “I’ll take over here.”

“Your care for me is truly touching, princess,” Sae’s voice lilts touchingly, almost revealing how much he likes it. “But you swore a vow to this kingdom, so go fulfill it.”

Even in the middle of a war, it gets Kaiser all worked up, his chin jutting as you both run back to the palace. But Sae understands duty, stands by it. It’s what makes him worthy of his own title in his own kingdom.

Oliver waits until you’re both out of sight before turning to Sae. “Did you really plan to steal her?”

“Well,” Sae shrugs. “Did you plan on letting her go so easily?”

Your water runs in cascading waves through the whole of the palace, like the ocean itself comes rushing through the walls. It knocks all the soldiers down as you and Kaiser run through, and he picks up any stragglers with ease.

“The throne room?” Kaiser slams the hilt of his sword into the guy behind him, and he collapses instantly.

“It is the safest room.”

“That makes no sense. If you knew anything about our people, you’d know we never hide ourselves there in a battle.”

“Go anyways,” you tell him, as another man gets thrown off his feet. “Go, Kaiser!”

He takes one final look at you, at the strength that you hold in your hands, and then he runs.

The man he finds sitting on the throne has black hair cut blunt to his chin, a white mask over one side of his face. Kaiser unsheathes his sword, pointed straight and true.

“That throne doesn’t belong to you.”

“It will. Along with that sword you’re holding.”

Kaiser chuckles, the kind that has madness interlaced in it. “If you wanted the sword so bad, you could’ve asked for a one-on-one combat duel. I haven’t had a satisfying fight in a long time, I’d be happy to lay the sword as a winning prize.”

What must be the man’s most elite fighters drop down from the ceiling, crowding in on all sides.

“Ah, I see,” Kaiser stands straighter, reaching behind him to unsheath his second sword. “It is your capabilities that do not match mine.”

When they come for him, it’s clear to even the heavens that he is exactly as he is fated – a force to be reckoned with. He moves like a spider-spun silken web, capturing each of them blow by blow. His swords cut like butter through them with impressive speed and strength. His breath comes fast and hard when he finishes, sweat dripping down his back.

“I see now, prince,” the man approaches him, and it’s closer up that he realizes he’s simply in a suit, no armor. “Why they praise you, despite your blasphemy. You, a prince famous for cursing divinity at a whim’s notice, are a powerful ally. Kneel before me, then, and I’ll cease this all – let you join our cause in a war against the gods, in stealing their divinity from them. I’ll even forgive this transgression of bedding one.”

“Me? Kneel?” The canned laugh that Kaiser lets out echoes. “I kneel to no god, let alone a man who wants to become one.”

“So be it, then.”

Kaiser hears something above him. By the gods, what’s with this guy and ceilings? Is that why he wants to fight here? A dust of something shimmers down, he pulls his cloak over himself-

From the doorway, you throw your water across the room, shielding Kaiser from whatever it may have been. And in the same moment, a poof of shimmer bursts over your own head and tumbles down around you.

“That’s the problem with you gods, isn’t it? You always think you’re infallible.”

You cough, falling to one of your knees. Dread fills inside of you, like a faucet you can’t turn off. You can’t move. How is that possible?

The man taps two fingers to the top of your head, and your world goes dark.

When you blink your eyes open, the first thing you’re aware of is the way your vision swims. Your mind feels clouded, stuffed with cotton. You press your palm to your head, and even that feels muted.

“I’ve made her mine now. She’ll do exactly what I say. Does that make you upset?” Is what you think you hear, through the ringing of your ears. “Let’s see you put that god-killing sword to good use then, shall we?”

“It’s. Magic.” You spit out the words as your hands press into the ground. Your legs cramp from the way you’re forcing them to stay down. “Mihya. Run, please.”

“Awh, worried about me?” Kaiser teases as he logs the odds. There is no water that swirls around you, so it begs to reason – you can’t call it. The only weapon you have is a dagger.

Kaiser tilts his head until his neck cracks. “Have some faith in me, princess. I’m not afraid, even against you.”

He breathes, in and out, until the calmness of battle seeps into him, raises his sword pointed right at you. “I’ll win, even against you.”

And then he reveals that cocky, surefire smirk. “You should worry more about not dying yourself.”

When you launch at him, it is without mercy, makes him realize how your kindness seeps into the way you fight. His weapon is bigger, larger, and he uses it to keep you at arm’s length, to wrap around towards the enemy. But he sees his problem almost immediately. Like a puppet on strings, you’re protecting the enemy.

He knows it, the moment the prophecy solidifies into place in his mind. That feeling of being lost on a path, gone with the reigning down a light. The final puzzle piece in the picture.

You will die by the hands of the one you love most. So, it truly was this feeling, after all. Love. An aching thing, something so undoing. An open wound that can only be tendered by you.

For once, the prophecy is not a curse but a guiding starlight. He corners you with strike after strike, until you’re as close as can be to the enemy. And then he approaches you with no defense, lets you strike at him. In the same breath, his sword lands behind you and takes off the enemy’s head.

None of the fight felt as clear as this moment, when your blade presses into his heart.

He collapses, right in front of the throne with you on top of him. The throne that should be undoubtedly his, belonging to him as heir. Tears fall from your face before your mind can clear. Like you know, soul to soul, as his lifeform slips through your fingers. He brings his hand to cup your cheek, as he had wanted to do when you laid like this above him in the sand.

“I did not expect a death so gentle for myself.”

His smile is so bittersweet that it aches all the way to the bottom of your heart. His hand slips down from your face as you finally come to.

“You will not die on me.” You gasp out, a statement said with so much conviction that the silver bell of truth rings in return. You call to your water immediately, a stream so fast it cuts into your skin but you don’t care.

A magic that can only be done once. You take the divine sword from the ground, aim the blade carefully at yourself – your own soul. Only this sword can make a cut like this, with the hand of the divine. You slice your wrist, and instead of blood, pure golden lifeforce pours out.

You separate your divinity from yourself, and you feed it to him. It will not turn him divine. You are only half-divine yourself, after all. What you can give is not nearly enough to turn a man into a God. But it will hold his soul in this world, let you do an unspeakable magic: an exchange of divine power for life, a process long enough for the water to heal his heart back together again. The hand you lay against his mouth shakes more and more with each second that your golden blood pours into him, but your other hand lays steady as ever over his heart, until you feel it beat once, twice. Hear him spurt out a breath.

You collapse on top of him before you can see him open his eyes.

“I see the prophecy has been completed.”

When Kaiser wakes, there’s a split second where he thinks he might’ve just ended up wherever souls go at the end of their line. There’s what must be a full-fledged goddess standing right over him. It’s only your warm body splayed across his chest that tells him otherwise. His hands are lightning quick, sitting up and moving to your neck to check your pulse, only exhaling and relaxing once he feels it.

Golden threads extend down the sleeves of the goddess’ arms. He’s seen the paintings. Fate itself stands before him.

“How could you do this?” He makes his disdain clear, lacking any respect one might give to the queen of the gods herself.

“I am sorry.” She answers immediately, and that makes Kaiser’s eyes widen just slightly. “Your grievances, you may relay them to me, if you wish. There is a bigger picture at play here, bigger than you or the water sorceress or even myself. The threads of fate are not woven selfishly.”

“You gods up in your clouds play with the lives of mortals. That has always been written in history. But to her? To one of your own?”

“She is more one of mine than most. The heir to the throne of the Gods, I would’ve entrusted her with my life. It’s why she complies with Fate in every life, without complaint.”

“So she lends you her loyalty, and you take advantage of her. And you dare put yourselves above us?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heavy too, are my hands, that weave the golden threads. You and her are one of many that have suffered by my hand. For that, there is no apology I can give. What I can give, well… Would you like to hear your full prophecy, prince?”

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will die by the hands of the one you love most. Forsaken by all the Gods but one, Re-emerge, awaken, as the ruler you are meant to become.

In any other circumstance, he would be eager as ever to finally hear the full prophecy. But his eyes are only on you, your slumbering state as he holds you in his arms.

“What will become of her?” He asks quietly.

“She will be a water sorceress, as she had initially been.”

“She will die, then? Like a human does?”

“All things die, hero.” Hero. That’s what he is now, having been trial-passed. The title burns like bourbon down his throat. “Even the divine dies. But yes, she will die as a human, and be reborn again as the cycle permits.”

“A life of such simplicity is not befitting of a woman like her.”

“Who says it would be simple? Besides, she has gone through the trial of the divine once before. Don’t you have faith she could do it again?”

The trial of the divine. He had not known such a thing prior to you. But if anyone could pass it, it would be you.

“I will make her my wife. I care little for the words or respect of the gods, even a queen like yourself. But it is my duty to inform you. If she will have me, I will wed her as has been planned.”

“The prophecy is complete. What happens now is too inconsequential for me to put effort into. However…” she watches you, teartracks streaked down your cheeks. “I’m quite fond of her. I hope for her an easy life.”

In a blink, her form disappears.

“Kaiser!” Oliver’s voice echoes through the halls, taking big leaps with Noa to his side, skidding to a halt when he finally finds you both.

“The goddess-”

“She lives,” Kaiser cups your head into his chest. “Though she is goddess no more. A trade. Not a fair one by any means.” His thumb traces across your cheek, a state of his so vulnerable it renders Oliver speechless.

Noa approaches the threshold where Oliver does not dare. He rests his hand on the crown of Kaiser’s head. “Another chance at life is the greatest gift, and she has granted you as such. That is a debt you’ll never be able to repay her for..”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, then.”

It’s only in the aftermath, that you find out how deep in you truly were.

Kaiser takes a big inhale of the winter air. It’s fresh and cold. And with him, the nation breathed a breath anew, and the trial laid in ashes under his feet.

You’re facing the horizon of the sea when he finds you.

In the catch of the light, sometimes he swears he sees the divinity that had shimmered off of you before. It’s almost hard to believe, with the ring of water that floats around you, that it had ever left you at all.

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, as it always is with you now.

“Relearning the water.”

“What does it say?”

“That I am still its mistress. Still a sorceress,” the water around you drops into the wet sand. “That its loyalty with me is not dependent on divinity.”

He places a hand to the back of your neck, easing out the tensions there. “But?”

You smile weakly. “I have to strain to hear her now.”

“Guess we can’t do that spectacle again for our wedding.” He cracks a smile, something to ease the ache. “Water holds memory, right?”

“That, it does.”

He grabs your hand, pulling you up and towards the waves. You yell for him, but the ocean crashes loudly around you both, and he drags you into the water anyways. Once you’re deep in enough that the waves drape over your knees, he pulls you in close.

“Let her bear witness, then.” He whispers it against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face. He kisses you, deep and with so much heart you might burst from it.

A prophecy unfolded, a fate changed, a life saved.

There’s a part of you that can feel an oncoming future. A sheathing that can block even the eyes of Gods. God-killing weapons that have descended from the heavens themselves. A potion that can cause madness in the minds of the divine. A war between mortals and Gods is coming, you’re sure of it.

But not in this life. In this life, you are a water sorceress, and he is a trial-passed hero. And like in every life, you find your way back to each other, every time.

author's note: ohmygod THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE tell me what you think!!! this is my longest fic ever so i really hope you enjoyed

extended author's note -- know that this is an incredibly realistic note about the perception of love that will take you out of the fantasy lovey-dovey space. it's a disclaimer for the parts of the fic i romanticize and how u should not romanticize them in real life, as well as some notes about kaiser's characterization if you're interested

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