#WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHED BEEN MARRIED FOR ALMOST FOUR YEARS. WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE HAD A BABY. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wholoveseggs · 9 months ago

Note

girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

Forever

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡

Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.

Well, that's what you wanted to believe.

There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.

He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.

You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.

He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.

He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.

Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.

You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.

Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.

You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.

He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.

"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.

"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.

Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"

"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."

Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."

You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.

While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.

"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."

He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.

You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.

"Let's light her up!" you announced.

The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.

"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.

You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.

You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.

The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.

You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."

"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.

You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.

Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.

Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"

"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.

"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."

Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.

"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"

"Okay!"

The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.

You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.

"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."

"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.

"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."

You flushed, biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.

Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.

His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.

He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.

His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.

You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.

"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"

Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.

He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."

"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.

You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.

You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.

As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.

You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?

No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.

Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.

It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.

He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse.

Just too good to be true.

Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.

"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.

"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.

Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."

"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.

"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.

"No," Elijah stated simply.

"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.

"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"

"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.

"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.

"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."

"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."

"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."

"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"

Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"

"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."

Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.

"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."

"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."

Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.

"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"

Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.

"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."

"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.

She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.

Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?

He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.

"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.

"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."

"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."

"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."

"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."

You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.

He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.

But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

Because if you were gone, so was he.

You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.

He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.

"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.

"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.

"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.

"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."

"That's putting it lightly."

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.

"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.

"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."

"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.

"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.

"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.

"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.

"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.

"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."

Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."

"And Elijah?" you asked.

Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."

You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.

Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.

We need to talk.

You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.

Tomorrow.

You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.

Elijah had texted you back.

Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.

You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.

Why are you sending a car?

A response came instantly.

It's a surprise.

You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.

Fine, give me 10 minutes.

Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.

You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.

Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," you replied.

He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.

"What?" you asked.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."

You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."

"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"

"The airport," he replied.

"What? Why?" You were completely confused.

"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."

"Where are we going?"

"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.

"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.

"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."

He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.

You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.

As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.

"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.

"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."

You looked up at him and kissed him softly.

"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."

"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.

The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.

Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.

"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you yawned.

You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.

"Welcome to Positano," he said.

"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's magical," you gushed.

"Yes, it is."

The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.

You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.

The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.

The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.

"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.

Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.

You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.

You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.

"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.

"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"Eli-"

"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."

You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.

The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.

"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.

"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.

"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.

"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.

"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."

You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.

"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.

He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.

"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."

He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.

"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."

"I like the sound of that," you moaned.

"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.

His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.

"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.

He set you on your feet and turned the water on.

"We are covered in sand," he grinned.

The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.

The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.

He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.

"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.

You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.

Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.

But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.

"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.

He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.

You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.

He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.

His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.

"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.

"All of it," you said.

"Right here, up against the shower wall?"

"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.

He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.

He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.

He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.

"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.

"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.

He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.

His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.

Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.

He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.

Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.

He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.

"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.

"Not long enough," he smirked.

He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.

He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.

"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.

"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.

He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.

"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.

His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.

"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.

You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.

You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.

"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.

"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.

"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.

"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."

"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."

The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.

The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.

There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.

When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.

"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.

"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.

"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.

"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.

"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.

Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.

"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.

"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.

Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."

The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.

You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."

"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.

"Will you be my flower girl?"

She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"

You laughed and hugged her back.

Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.

You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.

"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.

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pixeldistractions · 29 days ago

Text

Spring 2088.

You can know what you need to do on a logical level, but the courage to bring down that hatchet and chop a whole family in half? These boys knew nothing else but the four of them, together. It had been that way since they were toddlers. They fashioned this beautiful lie for them that looked like a family on the outside and was a festering wound on the inside, and now what could they do about it?

Leaving Colette, legally, wouldn’t be any more difficult than walking out the door. But to the boys, it would feel as much like a divorce as any. But that also wasn’t a reason to stay with their mom for another ten years. The idea of marrying her gave him hives. Staying in her house on her couch like a random cousin who came to visit made him bitter. He was a grown man who paid rent here, and he wanted to sleep in a bed. Was that too much to ask?

But not her bed, not for any amount of begging. No sex with that woman was worth the pit of dread he felt recently. He would put the boys to bed and tiptoe quickly past her room. He would anticipate her steps upstairs with the fear that she might try to come down and ask for it. Because then he would have to tell her, No, no thanks, no way. And Colette wasn’t a woman who liked to be told no. Her wrath would be huge enough to cause an explosion visible from space.

He shuddered to think of how badly it could have gone wrong, all over again. He was meticulous as anyone could be, but condoms break. As he found himself counting down the days to their boys’ eighteenth birthdays, the idea of starting all over again with her gave him shivers. He’d rather jump off a bridge, to be honest. And he wasn’t entirely sure he was being dramatic about that.

So something needed to change, but he didn’t dare start that conversation with Colette before he had a plan. First, he needed time to think, to fantasize even. Where would he live? How could they share custody? What might his life look like if he had his own decisions to make? Being single again, on his own again, making his own choices.

He hadn’t been very good at making his own choices in his youth. Case in point: knocking up Colette straight out of high school.

“Morning, Dad, time for school.”

But Jordan enjoyed fatherhood. Now, he did. But that didn’t mean Colette wasn’t right to be disappointed in him. At nineteen, he hadn’t been overjoyed at the task, and when they learned it would be twins, he just about shit a brick. She all but wrote him off for it, but his father encouraged him to try. And he did, here and there, before ultimately “flaking the fuck out” as Colette gently put it.

He didn’t bond with his boys truly until they were almost three years old. But now they were the best of buddies.

So, where to start? When he wasn’t tending to his boys, he was working and saving. And working more was fine by Colette. He gave her some of the money and she was happy.

And he was honestly happy to spend more time at work. Sharon had him building a shed kit to make into a wedding barn, with Ian as his helper. Jordan was no master carpenter, but they found a video to watch with some diagrams to follow, and it seemed easy enough to try. Ian was mostly useless, of course, but he and his twin sister had some wild ideas about social justice and environmentalism that was fun enough to pass the time. He could fetch a tool when asked.

His co-workers here were delightful all around.

Maybe one co-worker in particular was more delightful than the rest. His work often left him working outside, away from the rest of the crew. When it was chilly outside, Maria brought him warm treats. When it was hot outside, she brought icy lemonade. When he had no companions all day, she snuck out for a minute or two to keep him company. Today, she had a fresh hot coffee in a lidded cup.

“Can I have one, too?” Ian asked.

Maria smirked at him. “There’s more in the dining room. You can go get one yourself.”

So Ian hurried off to the dining room to fetch himself a cup of coffee, which surely he welcomed as an excuse to avoid his work. And Maria had Jordan all to herself for a moment, which perhaps she may have planned all along.

Maria had a crush on him. He wasn’t blind or stupid. So he had to be careful with her, because she was a widow and single mother and the most precious person on the planet. Irresponsible as Jordan may have been, he knew better than to jump straight from one woman to another. And Maria deserved better than that, anyway. Maria deserved so much more than he could ever give her. She didn’t need the absolute mess he would bring into her life.

If he were a good person, he wouldn’t have let this friendship run away from him like he had, leading her on. But he wasn’t a good person, he suspected, but a selfish one, because her friendship was something he craved. Her thoughtfulness, her compassion, her humor, her giggles, the way her curls bounced when she laughed… not just her curls, damn, her whole body bounced when she laughed! She was such a bright glow in his cold and rigid life.

So plans were being thought about, if not made. Maybe he was dragging his feet a little about the hard things that needed to be done.

But here was something he would have to learn eventually, and life would beat it into him until he did: life isn’t interested in waiting for you to be ready.

— “why are you here? #2: little sparks catch fire” (1/6)

Next -> // WAYH #2 start // index

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #sim stories #jordan #felix #milo #maria #ian

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daisybianca · 2 years ago

Text

pairing: charles leclerc x femalereader

summary: getting married to the man himself, charles leclerc.

warning: none, just pure fluff

STANDING IN FRONT of the mirror, you couldn’t believe the woman you were looking at right now, so beautiful.

Wearing a wedding gown, hair tied up and not having much makeup on.

That was you.

You were that woman.

You always have dreamed about what this day would be like since you were almost 20 and here you are about to witness it for real now.

“Hey, you ready?” You heard your best friend say after a slight knock on your door.

“Yeah, come in.” You sighed looking at your reflection one last time and turned around.

“Oh. My. God. You look so beautiful, honey!” Your mom exclaimed as soon as she set her eyes on you.

“Wow, (y/n), Charles won’t be able to keep his hands to himself today, I’m sure.” Your cousin commented earning a smack from (y/b/f/n) on her shoulders.

Your mom walked towards you, having a hard time not to shed happy tears but failed, “I cannot believe my princess will be married in a few minutes." You wiped her tears from your mom's cheeks, using your thumb in a gentle and comforting way. "Oh, I wish your dad was alive to see this day."

“He is with us, Ma. Here in our hearts. He is with us all the time." You assured your mom with a smile and hugged her.

There was a knock on the door which lead you to break the hug. The door opened, revealing your younger brother.

“Excuse me, have you seen my sister? I can’t seem to find her.” Your brother joked making the four women in the room laugh.

“You look incredible." He said and hugged you tight.

“Come on now, I’m not going to tear up like mom. It’s time to go.” He said breaking the hug and kissing you on the cheek.

・❥・

You heard the pianist start playing Canon in D - Pachelbel means you had to start walking down the aisle in seconds. You held your brother's hand tight and sighed nervously.

“Everything will be okay. Don’t worry, I won’t make you trip.” He mumbled to you, placing his palm on yours. You nodded in response and breathed in trying to calm down your racing heart.

The doors opened and you started walking, that’s when you caught a pair of green/blue eyes staring back at you.

There he was.

The love of your life, the man of your dreams standing by the end, waiting for you.

He smiled at you which caused you to blush hard under your veil.

Once you and your brother reached the end, he kissed you on the cheek and placed your hand on top of Charles'.

“Take good care of her.” He said in a very stern voice to Charles and walked off to stand beside your mom.

You could see a few drivers in their seats behind you. You'd wave at them but you just didn't want to ruin the moment with you and Charles.

Your wedding was about you and your husband, Charles. You wanted to feel every damn minute of it.

“We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony.” The priest started.

“Let’s all get to the vows now, (y/n)?”

“Charles, for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my prince, my soul mate, then 5 years ago I met you at a party thinking you were just a friend but instead I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life. And now, here we are with our future before us and I only want to spend it with you. My prince, my soul mate, my best friend.” You said gazing into his eyes.

“Charles?” The priest mumbled.

“I promise to love you, honour you, cherish you as my wife. I vow to hold your hand in my hand to hold your head in my hands and to hold your heart in mine. I love you and I always will. I pledge to be your faithful, honest and loving husband. Let’s build a life of laughter, love, support and charity. Let us create a warm and welcoming space for the good times. Let us be a home for each other, forever and ever.” Charles completed the vows by kissing your knuckles.

“Do you Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc take (y/n) (l/n) to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The priest asked.

“I do.” He didn't hesitate as his eyes found yours.

“Do you (y/n) (l/n) take Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest then turned to you.

“I do.” You replied with a breath.

“I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

With that, Charles lifted your veil and kissed you passionately as the crowd cheered from the seats.

He slipped his arms around your waist and nuzzled your neck with his nose before kissing you repeatedly up to your ear, where he whispered. “You look so beautiful, Mrs (y/n) Leclerc.” Charles complimented and kissed you again while the crowed continued filling the church with noise. "Words cannot describe how much I love you, my wife."

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3

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softomi · 4 years ago

Text

crossing the threshold

prompt: our love is spread across years, even if for the majority was not spent together; I’ll make up for it forever

pairing: atsumu x reader

word count: 5.3k

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsume @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen

When Atsumu was sixteen, he met you. A little ten-year-old with cute chubby cheeks, it was during a time when he envied Suna for having a little sister. You had mistaken him for Osamu from behind and while thoroughly offended, he couldn’t dare to raise his voice to a young girl. Atsumu merely patted your head, he bent to your eye level and introduced himself sweetly.

“But you can call me Tsumu. Just remember.” Atsumu stood straight, striking a pose, “I’m the better looking twin okay?”

Innocently, you nodded, “Okay.”

You were absolutely starstruck by him from that point on. If you had to pick your first love, Miya Atsumu is the face that comes to your mind. Contrary to the childish antics that he may give off to his friends and onlookers, he was absolutely sweet to you.

He’d buy you ice cream, random trinkets, and even picked you up from school once when Rintarou got detention for sleeping in class. Atsumu was like a second older brother you wished Rintarou would be sometimes. Granted, you love your brother, but sometimes he lacked the certain caring aspect that Atsumu seemed to always give you.

“Do you like me better or your brother better?” Atsumu watched your childlike eyes light up.

The popsicle in your hand was melting and your legs swayed on the seat, the ringing of the convenience store’s door echoed into the air. You grinned, “Tsumu!” Your head falls forward into your popsicle, the hand that’s smacked the back of your head connected to your brother, “Rin! You’re so mean!”

“What did I tell you.” Rintarou looks down on you, “Don’t associate yourself with Atsumu. He’s a bad man.”

Atsumu grumbles, standing to his feet to point his popsicle at your brother, “Don’t brain wash her like that! Everyone knows I’m the better twin!” He screams into the night and you laugh.

At twelve years old, you’ve made a mental note in your head that one day you were going to marry Miya Atsumu. It was fate, you two were just meant to end up together; but at twelve years old, you experienced your first heart break. Miya Atsumu was eighteen and had a beautiful girl attached to his arm.

Unknowingly, you followed him when you saw him randomly on the street. When you entered the cafe, your heart broke upon seeing him embrace the pretty girl. He hadn’t even noticed you until he properly sat down next to her. His arm draped around her shoulder as he used his other hand to wave to you. As a heartbroken twelve-year-old, you ran out of the café shop.

“Do you know her?”

Atsumu’s arm falls slowly, “Yeah, she’s my friend’s sister. Not sure why she ran out like that. She absolutely adores me.”

All the way home, you ran, not even noticing that you had sprinted past your brother and Osamu. For the weekend you locked yourself in your room trying to quell the sadness of your heart. Atsumu was no longer the man you knew, he was no longer sweet or nice, he was a monster.

You stuck your tongue out at him, “Osamu is the better-looking twin. I want to take a picture with Osamu only!”

Osamu laughs, your hands wrapped around Osamu’s arm as you pull him to take a picture. Graduation day called for families to flood the school and once the ceremony ended, pictures were being taken by everyone. Your parents made you take over fifty pictures with your brother before the twins joined. Atsumu suggested a picture with his favorite little girl and you barked at him.

“You’ll take a picture with me right Samu?” You were practically hugging his arm, Atsumu glaring from behind the parents with cameras.

“Okay! My turn!” Atsumu squeezed through.

“No!” You clung to the grey-haired twin.

After much ruckus, it was concluded that you’d take a picture with all of the boys. Osamu to your right, Atsumu to your left and your brother standing tall behind you. While you leaned closer towards Osamu, your face was bright red, oddly aware of Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder as he poses with a smile.

Your mother hung the picture in the hallway. It stared at you for four years, you hadn’t seen him since he graduated.

Atsumu ran into you at his brother’s restaurant. His brother chatted with a young woman, the familiarity of the figure making him curious when he entered. In fact, when you finally turned to look at him, he almost choked on his own tongue.

“Look at you!” His hand falls on your head, “You’re so big now.”

You swat his hand away, “Don’t touch me, you’re going to ruin my hair.”

Atsumu laughs, pulling into the seat next to you, “How old are you now? Fourteen?”

“Sixteen!” You grit your teeth, “I see you still have the uglier hair.”

Atsumu leans his head back, “You’re still so mean!” He feigns a tear shed, “I remember when you used to adore me so much.”

“That was when you brain washed me.” You stuck your tongue out to him.

Atsumu stares, the amazed grin was glued to his face. It makes your cheeks tint and your heart picks up in pace, “So what are you doing here? Are you visiting me?!” Atsumu wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into an awkward hug, “Did you miss me?!”

Atsumu retracts his hands when someone smacks him from behind. You pull away with a deep hue on your cheeks, brushing your hand through your hair to refix the position. Rintarou stands behind Atsumu, effectively continuing to smack the man another time just for the fun of it.

“Bye Samu!” You’re waving to the male, turning to look at Atsumu briefly with a scowl, “Bye loser.”

Atsumu found you still adorable, attempting to pinch your cheeks and pulling away quickly when you try to bite him. Compared to when he had first met you, small and tiny in the kitchen of your home, now you were taller, hair grown out, and the school uniform fitted on you nicely. Even as you were leaving, Atsumu couldn’t help but turn and stare.

“Ow.” Atsumu rubs the back of his head, Osamu glaring down at him, “What.”

“She’s sixteen, you pervert.”

Atsumu groans, “I wasn’t thinking anything, you’re the pervert for even about thinking it.”

Another four years pass like that, at twenty for you, Atsumu is twenty-six. He finds it hard to believe that you were indeed you. The occasional social media post he saw of you from your brother’s feed definitely didn’t do you justice.

“Are you still as snarky?” Atsumu sits across from you.

The feel of the restaurant was one that he found oddly romantic, chandelier lights in a private room, he had specifically chosen a private area to not draw attention from fans. A table separated the two of you, the waitress hadn’t returned since bringing out the food, and there was the faint sound of classical music playing from the speakers above.

“I don’t know.” You slowly twirl the wine glass, not offering a glance to him, “Do you still have the ugly blonde hair.” You lift your eyes from the wine, a small grin on your lips, “Oh yeah, looks like you do. At least you learned what toner is.”

“Hey, be nice. I’m the one graciously paying for this meal.”

“You’re the one who begged me to come here and I was so close to getting treated to a meal by Kiyoomi.”

It hadn’t been long since you moved to the same city; ever since you visited his practice once with your brother, you had been contacting him non-stop to be invited to his practices and while your eyes were set on his teammate, he practically cock-blocked any chance he could get.

“You know he’s a clean freak.” Atsumu pokes at his food, “Omi doesn’t even accept gifts from his fans.”

Your eyes sparkled, a cheery grin on your lips, “That’s why he’s so perfect, so caring about his own health.” Atsumu frowned. You pulled out your phone, a giggle on your lips as you showcase your lock screen, “The last time I visited, he took a picture with me! Isn’t he so cute!”

Atsumu snatched your cell phone, causing a distressed sound to emit from your mouth, “Why would you put that as your background! What about the picture we took together?”

You grip your phone back, a sharp glare at him, “I like Omi!”

“My stats are better than his.” He randomly throws out into the air, but the way you stare at your phone has him irked, “You listening to me?”

You hum, “So what if your stats are better. Omi definitely has the better looks; do you think you could give me his number?”

Atsumu groans loudly, the knife in his hand nearly cracking the plate. His fork stabs the steak, before your mouth can spew any more about Kiyoomi, he’s shoving food into your mouth.

“Can you just eat now.” He grumbles.

Your hand covers your lips, slowly chewing the meat with a grin, “Sorry.”

Atsumu and you met more often than you had ever intended. There were many nights where he picked you up from work, many conversations over text, many times he would come over to your apartment to just hang out. He’d take over your couch, body sprawled out as he flipped through the television. You’d force him to stop at a volleyball match, opting to watch your brother play over any television series Atsumu could find.

It was quiet, the commentary from the game being the only sound of your apartment. You sat on the ground, back pressed against your couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting in your lap which you ate as though you were watching an action-packed movie. Atsumu laid on his side, an arm draped over your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

His arm suddenly shifted and with a swift second, he withdrew. The sudden action caused you to jolt, looking over your shoulder at him questioningly. His face suddenly hit with a blush.

“What?”

Atsumu coughs, “it’s nothing.” Your eyes turn back to the screen but his mind races. Recalling the moment in which his hand accidentally brushed against your chest, while the fabric of your t-shirt concealed what was underneath, he knew well what it felt like when a woman lacked an undergarment.

He stared at his hand, his face growing redder the more he thought about the incident and he can only assume you were too engrossed into the game to notice. Atsumu feels as though he’s crossed a very awkward line.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He excuses himself, locking himself into the room, hands aggressively trying to brush away the flush of his cheeks.

As he’s in the bathroom, he takes his time in trying to cool down. He’s trying to find some lotion, hands rummaging through the drawers until as he opens one, he spots the familiar brand of condoms, it’s ones that he’s used before. He blinks three times, an image of you tucked between bedsheets flashes in his mind, before harshly slamming the drawer. Hands flying to his face, and he couldn’t help but think how his luck had run out so fast.

“Tsumu?” You call from the living room, “Everything good in there?”

“Yep!” He answers, “Just looking for some lotion.”

“It’s in the last drawer.”

As he exits the bathroom, he watches you; everything suddenly was different. No longer were you the cute, innocent girl that was his friend’s sister. Perhaps there was another side of you that he just lost track of. Atsumu finds himself seated on the other end of you, legs tucked close to him while continuously eyeing you from the corner of his eyes. A blush creeps onto his face when you look back at him with a smile.

“Congratulations on your win!” You scream into your cell, completely unfazed at the way people in the convenience store looked at you, “See! I told you that you’d win! Tsumu you were so cool with your last serve.”

Atsumu chuckles, a sudden boastful feeling in his throat, “Even better than Omi right?!”

Your voice falls silent, “Your serve was alright.”

“You’re supposed to be supporting me!” Atsumu whines, “Where are you right now?”

“Right now?” You exit the convenience store, staring up at the neon sign, “I’m leaving the store right now.”

“The one by the post office or the one by the chicken restaurant?”

You continue to walk, “The chicken restaurant. Why?”

Arms wrap around your waist, a shriek comes from your mouth as your lifted into the air, spun around excitedly as you hear his laugh. When he sets you down, you turn, hand slapping against his chest. The dim streetlight focusing on you both.

“You should be celebrating with your team.” You look up at him, the excitement in his expression has him practically wanting to jump all over the place.

The grin plastered on him is the brightest you had ever seen. He wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you along the pathway to your home, “I already did, now we need to celebrate!”

He presses a harsh kiss on your cheek, your hand automatically wipes the sloppy kiss, “Disgusting. I’m letting you get away with that because you won your game today.”

Foolishness on his lips, he takes the bag from your hands, carrying it the rest of the way to your place where he promptly raids your kitchen of food and drinks.

In the middle of the night he remains the only one awake, your head fallen on his shoulder as you drifted to slumber. Atsumu feels a lump in his throat, the alcohol in his system tells him to hold you close. He takes in the scent of your hair, his fingers lifted to push aside the strands from your face, he quickly pulls back when you stir. He’s wide awake that night, staring at the ceiling while you slept soundly in your bedroom and he on your couch. Atsumu raises a hand to peer at his fingertips, the warmth of your hair still hot against his skin.

There was a fine line with how Atsumu was feeling and it felt uncomfortable for him to be staring at the line. If he moved passed that line, it could jeopardize his friendship with you, his friendship with your brother, and it was absolutley agonizing. But it was just as terrible being on the safe side pining over you.

“Seriously?” Osamu quirks a brow to him, he laughs, “No way.”

Atsumu groans, forehead pressed against the counter of his brother’s restaurant, “I’m serious. Is it wrong?”

Osamu nods, “Very.”

Atsumu frowns, a defeat on his face when he looks at Osamu, “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

Osamu perks, “Oh I’m sorry. Please, I’m sure Rintarou would love you to date his sister who’s six years younger than us and who we practically watched grow.”

Atsumu slumps back to his position face down on the counter, “I’m a terrible person.” Atsumu moans, “She’s so pretty, and funny, and she gets me.” Atsumu sits straight up, “Like yesterday, she came by my practice and brought me lunch!”

Osamu crosses his arms, “Didn’t she bring that for her precious Omi. I saw her instagram post.”

“But she gave me mine first!” Atsumu pulls his fingers into a fist, “So because I’m first, she likes me more!” Atsumu’s lips fall to a scowl, “Right?”

Atsumu declared that his main problem; all other problems aside, such as your brother. How could he know if you liked him if all you ever looked at was Sakusa Kiyoomi.

It wasn’t easy but he managed to get you a priority pass into the venue of his game. It wasn’t your first time in the arena but it would be the first you actually watched him play in person and not behind a screen. You were quick to find Osamu setting up his onigiri stand, a chuckle on his lips when he saw you.

“Weren’t you invited by Atsumu?”

You tug your hat, a blank expression in your eyes, “Yeah, why?”

Osamu whips out his phone, you strike a quick pose at the shutter of his camera. The pictures were sent in a quick text to his brother. And just to clickbait him, Osamu sends a sweet and short text to make sure his brother would open the images.

She looks so adorable in the MSBY Black Jackals merch.

Atsumu never opened a text so quick, and he’s never felt betrayal so fast before. The jersey you wore while identical to his from the front, the back displayed Sakusa’s name and jersey number. The hat you adorned was knitted with Sakusa’s number and the side of the hat you’ve written his name in white marker against the black cap, hearts drawn cutely before and after his name. To add salt to the wound, there was a clear picture of your phone case, you’ve switched it out from the cute peach phone case he got you to a Sakusa Kiyoomi phone case.

“I hate you so much.” Atsumu holds his phone with a harsh grip, staring at his teammate.

“What?” Sakusa answers.

The game ended in a roar, Atsumu’s heated head channeled into the ball caused quite a few victory points. At one point, he was thinking about accidentally serving a ball to the back of Sakusa’s head but that would only result in you caring for the man more. He could imagine you pushing him aside to tend to your precious Omi.

Many fans lingered once the game was over, Atsumu found himself surrounded by reporters but the corner of his eyes caught your figure walking past security and onto the main ground. His words drawing out as you skipped your way to Sakusa; the hat on your head pulled off as you asked him for an autograph on your hat.

“Hey!” Atsumu jogs to the two of you, his arm finding themselves on your shoulders.

“You did absolutely amazing Omi!” You brush Atsumu’s arm off and he frowns.

Sakusa puts a mask on, “Thank you.”

When he walks away, you’re still starstruck, the hat in your hand held tightly. Atsumu glares daggers into the back of his teammate’s head. The moment you turn to him, Atsumu is smiling.

“Look!” You’re shoving the hat into his face, “He signed my hat!”

Atsumu pretends to be excited, “Next thing you know, he’ll sign your shirt!”

You gasp, “Do you think he would? Wait.” You turn, attempting to run away from him, “I must go find him again.” You giggle when Atsumu catches your arm, pulling you back to him, “I guess the Miya Atsumu would do.”

He takes in your playful eyes, mischievousness on your lips, and the way your cheeks grow when you look at him. If he wasn’t so hopelessly in love, maybe he would have already kissed your lips.

“Want to take a picture?” Atsumu slips his hand to take your phone from your back pocket, a gesture making you smack his arm.

A small pout on his lips when he notices that your wallpaper is still one with Sakusa; but he recruits one of his other teammates to take a picture. Atsumu’s hands dance on your waist, pulling you into him, pressing his cheek against yours, practically trying to crush you into him, you’re laughing. He finds it adorable.

“I’ll wait for you.” You tell him as he leaves to the locker rooms.

You’re scrolling through your cell phone, the pictures on your phone grinning back at you. A slow smile emerges on your lips, Atsumu’s hands on your waist trying to hold you still even though you know he’s trying to tickle you. Your finger holds onto the photo, what follows is a short video of yours and his smile growing larger. Out of impulse, you set the image as your lock screen.

“Gotcha!”

You jump, head whipping back to find your brother staring down at you, “Gosh!” You hit him, “You’re so annoying. Go away!” You attempt to smack his leg but he retracts quickly.

Rintarou pokes the hat on your head, “Did your boyfriend sign the hat for you, is that why you’re so happy?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You speak up, “he’s the best player on the Black Jackals!” You stick your tongue out to him, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice or something.”

He points behind him, “Samu and I are going out to eat, thought I’d watch the end of the game. What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting for Tsumu. We were going to go out to eat too.”

“Great.” He narrows his eyes, “Let’s all go together then.”

For some reason, it was painfully awkward for Atsumu. Osamu found it painfully amusing and the Suna siblings shared one brain cell, focusing their attention on the food. The moment all four of you walked into the restaurant, Atsumu almost instinctively chose the seat next to you; the sudden awareness of your brother in the room had him switching seats rapidly.

“So.” Osamu began, “How come you don’t have a boyfriend yet?”

Atsumu begins to cough, a sheepish grin on your lips, Rintarou doesn’t pay attention to the question.

“I guess no guy has piqued my interest yet.” Your hand covers your mouth, attempting to chew and talk at the same time, “I’ve dated here and there but nothing serious yet.”

Osamu nods, “You’re still young, how old are you now?”

You swallow, “Twenty-one.”

Osamu puts a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, “Did you hear that Tsumu, twenty-one.” Atsumu tries drinking water to cease his coughing, “That means that we’re six years apart, right?”

Rintarou finally looks up, “Why are you so suddenly interested in our age difference?”

Atsumu coughs once more, “It’s not like age differences matter.”

Your brother’s actions stop, “Why would the age difference matter in this situation?”

Atsumu and Osamu cough, their food going down the wrong pipe at the same time. In that moment, you steal food from your brother’s plate, the action diverting his attention from the twins. Like siblings, you bicker with your brother as he steals from your plate this time.

The ride home was just as painful. You sat in the back seat, Osamu driving, Atsumu in the passenger side, and your brother with you in the back. The only sound coming from the radio and you kept yourself occupied with your cell phone; not a care in the world that there was some tension in the car.

“I’ll see you guys. Rin, make sure you remember next month is mom’s birthday. Let’s spit a gift.” You wave to the three boys before running off into your apartment building.

The air in the car suddenly thick. Rintarou sits up, hands placed on the shoulders of Atsumu’s seat, “The age difference joke.” Atsumu feels his soul leaving his body, “I’d prefer it if you lay off.” Rintarou slumps back into his seat, “But I don’t care, do as you see fit.” Atsumu looks at him through the passenger side mirror, “I don’t control your lives.”

Atsumu wonders if that was his friend’s way of giving his blessing.

“You still like me better than your brother, right?” Atsumu pokes at you from the seat on your couch.

You roll your eyes, “Will you be quiet if I say yes?” Atsumu nods, “Then yes mister clingy, I like you so much more than my brother.”

Atsumu grins, “How about Omi?”

You shoot him a glare, “You’re stretching it pretty far there.”

There’s a moment of silence before he lets out a deep sigh, one that you’ve suddenly grown accustomed to understanding that he wanted attention.

“You know what we never do?” Atsumu shuffles in his seat.

You look at him, “Is it be quiet?”

Atsumu pokes your cheek, “Nope.” He pulls away when you try to bite his finger, “We never talk about our past. We literally grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, knew the same people.”

“First off.” You’ve turned to fully look at him now, “We went to the same school but never attended at the same time and second, we know the same people because you’re friends with my brother.” Your shoulders shrugged, “You gotta admit, we didn’t get close until almost two years ago when you inserted yourself into my life.”

Atsumu grins happily, “Now you’re blessed with me.”

“More like cursed.” You swat his hand away when he tries to touch your nose.

“What about your first crush or love?” Atsumu tilts his head to you, “Mine was this girl I was dating when I was eighteen. Boy, I thought she was the cutest girl ever until she got extra clingy and jealous. I thought she was going to claw my eyes out.” Atsumu laughs, when he notices that you lack laughter, he pokes your sides, “You?”

“Mine?” Your eyes can’t meet his gaze, “It was you.” Atsumu freezes, perhaps his ears played a joke on him. Suddenly when you look into his eyes, your lips smile, “Yeah, I had the biggest crush on you when I was ten. Isn’t that funny?”

But he doesn’t laugh, his hands cover his face to hide the blush, “That’s so cute.” Atsumu pinches your cheek, “Little you had a crush on me?” You smother a pillow into his face, but it doesn’t drown out his sounds, “It’s absolutely precious!”

“Shut up!” You screech.

He pulls the pillow away, he’s laid out on the couch now, your legs positioned on either side of his hips and with the removal of the pillow in his face, his hands grasp your wrists, the sudden realization that you were straddling him had heat coming out of his ears.

“Sorry.” You pull away. Atsumu shrinks to the opposite side of the couch, face hot as you get up, “I’m gonna order us some food.” Your arm covers your face, trying to hide the heat that’s rushed to your cheeks.

“That’s different.” Osamu notices your phone case, “Wasn’t it a Sakusa one before?”

You lift your phone, “Yeah, my other phone case got dirty and I saw an Atsumu one. The Sakusa ones were sold out so I just thought why not.”

“Interesting.” When he states that you shrug, moving along to find your seat in the arena. Osamu peers over the side of his cart, staring at the overabundance of Sakusa Kiyoomi phone cases in the stall next to him. Osamu merely laughs, “They’re so stupid.”

Atsumu finds himself once again surrounded by reporters, his hands wave signaling that they could talk to anyone else but him, even pushing his other teammate to the reporters.

“Excuse me, can I have your autograph?”

Atsumu tries to smile politely, “Sorry, maybe next time.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll just go find Omi.” Atsumu does a doubletake, his lips spread into a fine grin.

His arms pulling you into a hug, you repress trying to let out a sound of disgust when you realize he’s all sweaty, “What are you doing here?” Atsumu’s fingers run through a strand of your hair, “I thought you were working?”

“I was and then suddenly.” You folded your hands into a fist, coughing into it slowly with a mischievous smile, “I got sick.”

Atsumu uses a finger to push your head back, “You shouldn’t be lying at work.”

Your eyes quickly dart to behind him, “Quick! There’s Omi!” You grab Atsumu’s arm, “Can you take a picture of me and him please!”

It took a little convincing and some rules, but Sakusa complied to the photo. Atsumu grips your phone, an eerie grin on him as he sees that Sakusa places a hand onto the small of your back. But as Atsumu turns on your phone, the happy picture of the two of you washes over him. As he tries to swipe to go to the camera, the picture plays into a short video and for a second, he feels love wash over him.

“Tsumu!” Your voice wakes him from his thought. He’s quick to take pictures and you skip to him after thanking Sakusa for the pictures. Your lips fall into a scowl, “Tsumu! They’re all blurry!”

Atsumu is walking away from you, he shrugs his shoulders as he heads to the locker rooms, “I guess I don’t have a steady hand.” He’s laughing as you yell at him.

Atsumu finds himself slowly walking, he sees you leaning against a pillar, cell phone in your hand, just waiting for him. He finds himself wanting to admire you for a little bit longer, he wants to run his fingers through your hair and most importantly, he wants to feel what it would be like to kiss you.

“Were you slow motion walking here or something?” You laugh.

But Atsumu doesn’t feel like laughing right now, he feels like he wants you; more than anything he’s ever wanted before. The look in his eyes change as he’s suddenly rubbing a thumb over your cheek.

“If I’m crossing a line.” Atsumu’s eyes dart to your lips, “Just tell me to stop.”

He’s leaning down, your back pressed against the pillar. One of his hands rests on your hip the other still a caressing your cheek. He lets himself pause before your lips; eyes deeply lost in yours before he takes the dive. He’s absolutely immersed in you, your arms bring him deeper in and he’s euphoric. He dips in, pushing your head back to bump against the pillar. You let out a groan, pushing his arms away as your hand flies to the back of your head.

You chuckle, “A little too eager there.”

“Sorry.” Atsumu bites his lower lip, the seconds ago just barely registering in his head, “Was that alright?”

“Do you want some kind of grade?” You purse your lips, “Maybe a B+.” You tease but Atsumu pouts. Your fingers tug on his jacket, palms against his cheeks to pull him down, pressing a quick peck to his lips, “Does that answer your question?”

Your footsteps begin to walk away from him. You look at him from over your shoulder; he still seemed stunned, but the way you moved drew him in.

“If you’re going to just stand there, I might just go ahead and find Omi.”

Like a puppy, he runs to you; hands reaching out to you as you begin to scamper through the hall. A delighted squeal leaves your mouth when he catches up, arms encasing you in a hug; he’s pressing a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“So, we’re just supposed to get used to this now?” Osamu watches Atsumu throw an arm around your shoulders, his brother sticking his tongue out childishly, “What are you so smug about, you spent practically two years pining over her.”

Rintarou sighs, suddenly feeling uneasy about the situation, “I thought you knew better. I told you to not associate yourself with Atsumu.”

Your fingers interlock with Atsumu’s, the siblings in front of the two of you continue to yammer but their voices are drowned out with Atsumu pressing his lips against your hair. He feels the need to draw his seat closer to you, and your brother scowls.

Atsumu lets go of you with a shriek, the hot soup spilled onto his pants.

“Rin!” You shout.

“He crossed the line.”

Your brother hogs the napkins, Osamu laughs loudly, and you watch your boyfriend scream in agony. You roll your eyes at your brother, after all, you were still his little sister and he can’t just have anyone trying to make a move on you.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu #atsumu miya

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Spoiled | Bruce Banner x reader

(semi-sequel to my fic sugar, but you don’t need to read that to understand this!)

summary: it’s the first time you’ve had your boyfriend all to yourself for Christmas, and he makes sure it’s a holiday you’ll never forget.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut!!, infidelity (bruce is married, guys), wedding ring kink, damage to a very expensive dress (lol), daddy kink, sugar daddy relationship

Normally, Christmas is reserved for the wife, as it ought to be. But this year, Bruce had surprised you with a promise: you could finally spend Christmas day with your boyfriend. You weren’t sure exactly how he got out of spending the holiday with his wife, but he’d picked you up a few days before and driven you to a gorgeous secluded cabin somewhere upstate. Obviously you assumed it was a rental, so the fact that he’d bought it along with the four acres it laid on was a bit of a shock. Still, you were beyond giddy to have a few days alone with him, cuddling up in the big warm bed and admiring the snow-laden forest just outside the windows.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured against your skin as you just started to wake up— and yes, you remembered that it was Christmas day. Any day spent waking up in his arms was a good one, Christmas or not.

“Merry Christmas,” you greeted in return as you spun around to kiss him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, pretty girl,” he chuckled as he slid your legs off of him, “don’t you wanna get up and open your presents?”

You rolled your eyes because of course he had to get you something, even when you told him not to. "I don't need any presents, Bruce, just having you here today is enough."

"Couldn't help myself. You're so easy to shop for, you look good in everything. Besides, I like dressing you up almost as much as I like undressing you."

“So it’s something to wear?” you deduced.

“Just get up and get ready, okay?”

You nodded and slipped out from under the quilt, dashing to the bathroom to splash your face, brush your teeth, and maybe throw on a little makeup so you wouldn’t look like you’d just woken up when you had, in fact, just woken up.

Slipping on a red plaid robe, you returned to the living room and found Bruce lounging beside the tree in his fuzzy house pants, distractingly shirtless. As much as you were compelled to kneel down and bury your fingers in that black curly hair that deliciously blanketed his chest, your attention was redirected to the long, flat box in his hands.

“Open it,” he encouraged as he handed it to you, circling around to stand behind you and stroke your arms as you gently tore the paper open. It was just a white cardboard box underneath, lacking in any labels so you had to pop the top off to see the garment inside. "You like Balmain, right?" he asked softly with a smile.

It was gorgeous; silk, it felt like, in a deep forest green that was almost festive in a way. "Bruce this is…" you trailed off, dropping the box and holding the dress at the shoulders, letting the fabric unfurl and spill down until you could see the whole dress. "This is too nice. I can't let you spend this much on me."

"Oh, it wasn't that expensive," he lied, "now go try it on."

You started to protest, but he cut you off with a kiss, resting his hand on the back of your neck and pulling you closer. You melted into his arms instantly, completely forgetting where you were and what you’d been talking about as your eyes fluttered shut and your lips slotted against his. When he pulled back, you were barely aware of what he was talking about when he whispered: “go try it on.”

“The dress!” you remembered. “I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t really need to leave the room to get dressed, he’d seen you naked plenty of times, but you figured it would make the grand reveal that much more exciting. Just putting it on made your skin all tingly, the soft fabric making you shiver as it brushed against you so delicately. The mirror wasn’t super helpful, too small to see how you looked past your shoulders, so you decided that you’d have to trust that you looked as good as you felt.

Seeing your heels just a few feet away, you dashed to grab them; they would perfectly complete the look, because it would be kind of odd to wear Balmain while barefoot. Sure, they were a bit uncomfortable, but it was worth it to see him turn around to the sound of your clicking heels, his jaw nearly hitting the floor as he watched you step closer. “What do you think?” you asked shyly.

He got up and approached you, his expression heavy with desire and making you shiver. He knelt down before you, looking up at you with dark eyes as he slowly— excruciatingly slowly— pushed up the skirt of your dress, his thick, rough fingers tickling your thighs.

You just had a thong underneath, lacy and delicate, meaning you felt it all too well when he licked you through the fabric.

"Ffffuck," you sighed, "Bruce, baby…"

"Y'like that, pretty girl?"

You nodded breathlessly, trying not to let your knees buckle when he did it again, reaching down to dig your fingers into his hair. "Don't stop, daddy, please."

He did stop, but only for a moment so he could gently hook a finger under the fabric and pull your panties aside, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of your mound. Finally, his lips latched onto your swollen clit, and you moaned lowly.

You were normally pretty good at standing in heels, but this posed a new challenge.

When he found a pattern of sucking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, and doing this positively obscene thing with his teeth that you couldn't describe but made your knees weak, you were soon barreling towards the point of no return. "Bruce, fuck, I'm close— gonna come, please let me come…"

He only nodded, not stopping his work for even a moment, and you clutched his curls tightly as your hips rocked against his face.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," you chanted breathlessly as the coil finally snapped, a new gush of warmth spreading between your legs as you quivered above him. Your vision went black for just a second, head thrown back into a silent moan as you held your breath until all your noises broke forth all at once, somewhere between a scream and a sob and a sigh.

"Fuck, such a good girl for me," he purred, giving your sore clit one last luck before he instructed: "get on the bed," encouraging you with a little shove back towards it.

You spun to face away from him and get on your hands and knees atop the plushy mattress. Your face heated up as you heard him laugh. "I meant on your back, princess. God, you're a slut."

Embarrassed but aware that his words were more a compliment than anything else, you rolled onto your back and spread your legs as he climbed on top of you and slotted his body between them, shedding himself of his pajama pants until his thick cock bounced back up to slap against his stomach. You bit down on your lip, wishing he'd given you a chance to put that cock in your mouth (because it looked fucking delicious) but losing that train of thought as he ran his hands all over your body through the silky fabric of his gift to you.

Suddenly, with a deep growl, he grabbed the dress at the neckline and ripped it open right down the front. "Bruce!" you yelped in protest; your heart broke for the expensive dress destroyed, but your thighs clenched together at the sight of him tearing through it like paper.

"I'll buy you a new one," he sighed flippantly before diving in to roughly grope your breasts, littering your chest with kisses and stopping to teasingly suck your nipples along the way.

"Daddy," you whimpered, "please fuck me."

"Not gonna make you wait much longer, babygirl," he promised, "just tell me you love me."

It made your chest tighten and your cheeks warm, but you were happy to oblige. "I love you," you whispered.

"Once more, with feeling," he requested.

"I love you," you said again, a little louder.

He grinned, hovering over you as he pushed his cock down to slip inside you. You gasped and clutched the sheets beneath you as he moved deeper, his lips catching yours in a slow kiss. "I love you too," he replied gently before he began to fuck you in a way that was… anything but gentle.

"Fuck," you sobbed, wanting more than anything to arch your back and throw your head into the pillow, but you couldn't with your lip caught between his teeth.

You'd adjusted to his cock quite a bit since the first time you hooked up with him nearly two years ago, and yet it still felt like he was stretching you impossibly wide as he fucked you hard and deep. You figured at this point that you would never become fully accustomed to his size; you sort of hoped you wouldn't, because you liked the edge of pain that danced up your spine each time he entered you. When he hooked your leg in his arms, lifting it to rest his shoulder, he pushed even deeper and you whined beneath his heavy weight.

"So deep," you whispered.

"I know, baby," he whispered back. "You feel so fucking good, princess…"

It was impossible to keep track of the flow of time at that point, so it couldn’t been minutes or hours that he spent inside you, taking you apart perfectly piece-by-piece. You couldn’t keep track of how many times you came, either, aware only of an overload of sensations coming at your body from every angle.

He kissed you as he reached his own peak, mumbling your name somewhere between the movements of his lips against yours until you felt like you were floating just from the way he said it. You stayed that way for longer than you expected while he caught his breath, before he rolled off of you and you both sighed as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Fuck," he groaned, "that was… intense."

"That's rich coming from you, considering I'm the one that just got my cervix pummeled."

"I wasn't too hard on you, was I?"

"God no, it was amazing," you laughed, "but still… damn."

"I don't know about you but I worked up quite an appetite," he grinned. "I'm gonna get up and make blueberry pancakes, you want some?"

"Do you even need to ask?" you smirked, and he leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips before he slipped on his pants again and dashed off to the kitchen.

As far as Christmas mornings go, you weren't sure it could get much better than an expensive gift, getting dicked down like it was the end of the world, and blueberry pancakes.

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n

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fortisfiliae · 4 years ago

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Promised Part 12 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage; it gets a bit sexy, but nothing explicit

Word count: 2.7k

Part 12 - Pillow Talk and Butterbeer

After you had gotten the Foxgloves in Diagon Alley, the only thing you could do for the antidote was to wait. Wait for Nagini to shed and wait for the end of March to arrive, so you could go to the Gaunt manor and look for a flask of Banshee tears. Meanwhile, the cauldron simmered safely in the Come and Go Room. You had to stir it frequently and skim off the foam that built up, so it required a good portion of your time, which was quite worrisome. How would you be able to keep that up when school would start again and you were occupied attending classes? Of course, Tom and you could alternate in doing those tasks, but you didn’t want to bother him with all that constantly. He had to attend to his duties as head boy on top of everything, after all. Well, there had to be a way. It would be manageable somehow.

Even though Hogwarts was almost empty and there weren’t many people around, you hadn’t felt lonely. Not even a bit. Tom and you had gotten closer over the week. Even closer than before and he still showed no signs of annoyance towards you. Which surprised you. You would have thought that he liked to keep to himself a lot, and wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time with someone else, regardless of who it was. But that suspicion turned out to be untrue. Tom had followed you to tend to the potion every single time you had gone there, even if you hadn’t asked him to. He stuck to you like a magnet, which was strange at first, but once you had figured out that he just seemed to thoroughly enjoy your company, you let him.

When the two of you weren’t in the Come and Go Room, or studied for the upcoming semester, you spent your time in bed a lot. The meaning of ‘enjoying the holidays’ suddenly had a different ring to it. You still had not gotten used to his touch, his scent, his faint whisper in your ear. But if you were honest, you didn’t want to ever get used to it. It was too exciting to get that rush, the way your heart started racing, every time his fingers brushed across your skin. Every time your name fell from his lips and when his eyes lingered on your figure when you lay beneath him. Those smiles, rare and subtle, he graced you with between the sheets. No, you would never get used to that.

And Tom had started to talk more. Granted, still not as much as any other person you knew, but it was certainly a step in the right direction. One rainy day, he even opened up and talked about his family. You held hands beneath the blanket, one of your legs was sprawled over him and you had just put your head into a comfortable position between Tom’s shoulder and the cushion, when he just began, out of nowhere.

“Do you remember when you asked me about my parents?” he said. “In your room, at Christmas.”

Your head propped up again so that you could look at him. “I do. Why?”

“Well,” he paused and looked back into your eyes, his voice low and plain. “Do you want to know what happened?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

He laid his head onto the pillow and looked up towards the ceiling while he bit the inside of his cheek.

“My Mother,” he began. “She fell in love with him, Tom Riddle, when she was seventeen. He was a muggle. Filthy and worthless, even though his family was rich. Merlin knows what she saw in him.”

The thought that him being a muggle didn’t define his Father’s worth came to your mind, but it wasn’t your time to speak now.

“He didn’t love her back,” Tom went on. “At least not as much as she wanted him to, apparently. Morfin, her brother, had just finished his schooling for Potion’s mastery, so she snuck into his chambers one night and stole one of his love potions.”

This story wasn’t going to end well. Most love potions, the ones that weren’t sold in joke shops, which were diluted and only meant to last for a few minutes, were illegal. You had learned about the most dangerous ones during Slughorn’s class in sixth year, so that you were able to detect them. One of them, the most powerful one, had attracted everyone’s attention back then. The potion alone was infatuating, even if one had not consumed it yet. Its scent had drawn in every person in the classroom, as it smelled different to everyone, based on what the person liked. You still remembered that striking feeling of needing to take the potion yourself. Obsession was the best way to describe it. All rationality had left you once Slughorn had lifted the cauldron’s cover. No one seemed in their right mind anymore. The mere thought of being at someone’s mercy, without even knowing it, was frightening.

“Amortentia?” you asked.

Tom nodded and you could feel one of his legs bouncing up and down. His voice still was indifferent, as if he was telling you just another irrelevant story.

“She drugged him with it and didn’t tell her family. They wouldn’t have tolerated a muggle as her husband of course. But they secretly got married and when she was pregnant, she broke the charm, thinking he would love her anyway.”

“And?” you asked, hoping that the answer would be different from what you anticipated.

“He didn’t love her obviously. And he ran from her. Left her. Can’t even blame him.”

“He left her when she was pregnant?”

Tom nodded and your heart sank for him. Even though his father’s actions were understandable to an extent, you couldn’t imagine what it must feel like being so unwanted by one of your parents that they would have left before you were even born.

“What happened to her then?” you asked.

“She died while giving birth to me. At least that’s what Marvolo told me.”

“You don’t think she’s dead?”

“Oh, yes I do. I don’t think she died from giving birth.”

“Do you think he… That Marvolo… Killed her?”

Tom shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. “Possibly. I could see why he would have done it.”

Everyone who knew Marvolo could probably see him do that. That man was evil, to say the least, and seemed to enjoy it when others suffered. But killing his own daughter was something you hadn’t thought anyone, not even the worst person on earth, was able to do without hesitation.

Silence had fallen over the room. You could hear Tom breathing, still collected and slow, contrary to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered for lack of a better word and held his hand tighter.

“It’s alright,” he answered, his voice sounding like he was the one consoling you when it should have been the other way around. “I have no memory of them. It’s not like I miss her.”

Could you miss someone you never really met? Probably not, you thought. But it was definitely possible to know you missed out.

“And your father?” you asked. “Do you know where he is now?”

Tom let out a sharp breath through his nose as if he was suppressing a laugh. “I don’t think he’s alive either. They never told me, but I assume Marvolo took care of him as well.”

You sighed at his response, turned to lie on your side and rested your head on Tom’s shoulder, your hand leaving his, to hold on to his upper arm.

There had been so much harm, so much betrayal in his life, even before he could have done something to prevent it. No wonder he behaved the way he did. There had never been hope. He never stood a chance.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumbled. “Do you wish it could have been different? If you had gotten to know them.”

“You and your wishful thinking,” he said and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I never thought about it. It wouldn’t change reality. It would just make me mad.”

You nodded as a silent way of approval, your fingertips tracing patterns on the curve of his shoulder.

“I do wonder, however,” Tom said and lifted your chin with his hand, so he could look into your eyes. “What my father felt when she put him under her spell with Amortentia.”

His gaze darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his fingers still holding up your chin when you blinked.

“The closest thing to love, I assume,” you answered, a breath stuck in your throat. “The replica of it at least, as hollow as it may be.”

Tom still looked at you with a glare as sharp as a butcher knife. He sucked in a breath, pondering, and parted his lips, about to say something. Before he could though, he leaned closer, pinned you down to the mattress and kissed you, his hand wandering from your chin to your neck.

An owl from Camille arrived on one of the last days of the break. Her letter made you smile as you walked across Tom’s room and read it.

“Camille wants to meet up on Sunday, when she’ll be back,” you told Tom, still skimming across her lines. “They are official now, Ben and her.”

“Alright then,” Tom said absentmindedly, his nose in one of the books from the library.

“She asked for you to come too.”

His head rose in confusion. “Me? Why?”

“I think she wants us to go on a double date,” you chuckled. “To the Three Broomsticks. Sunday at five.”

No matter how sure you were of how much Tom enjoyed your presence, he absolutely wasn’t entertaining the idea of spending time with Ben Hilt. And about that, he was very clear. He had asked you a couple of times if you were sure that Camille meant for him to come and had tried many ways of escaping that date, but alas, you dragged him there.

“Four Butterbeers,” Ben ordered after you had sat down at a table together.

Ben sat opposite to Tom, who was more than obviously annoyed by the fact he even had to be there. You patted his thigh, ordering him to behave, to which Tom eyed you seriously. Camille and you both bit back the smirks on your faces, while Ben tried his best to be friendly.

“So,” he said, looking at Tom and you. “How were the holidays?”

“Mind your own business,” Tom murmured, which luckily no one but you had heard.

“Good,” you spoke over him and pushed your elbow against Tom’s side. “Quiet. Not many people around.”

“Oh, you stayed in school, didn’t you?” Ben asked. “You both?”

Tom didn’t answer and looked back at Ben without a hint of emotion on his face. You nodded and smiled.

“How about you?“ you asked. „What have you done? Have you met up?”

“Oh, yes we did,” Camille said. “Ben introduced himself to my parents and then took me to the cinema.”

“Cinema?” Tom and you asked simultaneously.

You had heard of cinemas before of course. But you had never been. Movies were a muggle invention, and even though it sounded tempting, you had never had a chance to go.

“Yes,” Camille confirmed. “We watched ‘Dead of Night’. That’s what it’s called, right?”

Ben nodded as he swung his arm around Camille’s shoulder. “Horror movies. My favourite.”

“Why would you do that?” Tom asked and took his cup from the server, who had come up with your order. “Go to the cinema. That’s such a muggle thing to do.”

“Oh, you’ve never been, huh?” Ben asked. “None of you have, have you?”

“You should have seen his face when I told him,” Camille laughed. She had, similar to you, grown up in a pureblood family as well.

“And you should’ve seen mine when I went to her house,” Ben added. “I’m still not used to wizard’s homes, you know. They’re so different. I like them.”

Tom stiffened next to you.

“You’re muggleborn?” he asked, his mouth agape.

“Indeed mate. Didn’t you know?”

“You’re a mu-… muggleborn,” Tom stammered and looked over to Camille. “But you, you’re a pureblood, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Camille said, a baffled smile on her face.

Tom still had a hard time believing what he had just heard. “And you… You two. Even though…”

“Tom,” you whispered, trying to escape both Camille and Ben’s amused looks, and patted him on the thigh again.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat and motioned with his hand. “I just. I didn’t know.”

“Well now you do,” Ben shrugged before taking a big sip of his butterbeer. “Best of both worlds, am I right?”

“Right,” you said when Tom didn’t answer.

Changing the subject seemed necessary, but you couldn’t think of anything worth talking about. The only thing you had been doing was tending to the potion, and that was something you would rather keep a secret.

“The worst thing is that none of you folks have phones at home,” Ben went on.

“Phones?” Tom asked.

“Telephones. You can call other people and talk to them.”

“I wish I had one,” said Camille. “I told my father about it and he thinks it’s a great idea. Maybe we’ll get one of those ‘phones’.”

That was interesting. To talk to someone directly, even if they weren’t there? No apparating, no Floo Network. Muggles might have been weak, but they sure knew how to handle their handicaps.

“Why would you need to do that?” Tom asked. “Talk to someone on the phone.”

“Well, it spares a lot of time. No need for owls or letters. You just pick it up from the hook and speak.”

Tom seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he shook his head. “But owls do the job just fine.”

“Not as quickly,” Ben grinned.

“Well, then I’ll send an urgent owl if I need my message to arrive sooner.”

Ben stifled a laugh and took another drink. “I mean, of course, mate.”

“I think it’s interesting,” you said. “And you only hear the voice of the other person? You can’t see them, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Fascinating,” you mumbled. “What other things do you have that we don’t?”

Ben looked into his cup for a moment and hummed. “Well, muggles invented the train, which we all use to go to school.”

“Oh,” Camille gasped. “Wait until he tells Tom about cars.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Of course I know about cars.”

“Have you driven one?” Ben asked.

“No. Obviously not.”

“You should one day,” Ben gushed. “My father got a 1943 Bentley recently. Technically I’m not allowed to drive it, because I don’t have a license. But I’ve seen Father drive a lot. So I borrowed the car one night and it was life-changing.”

Tom took a drink and raised one brow. “I’d rather just apparate.”

“Yes, that’s great too. But it doesn’t have the same feeling. It’s really liberating. And much more comfortable than brooms. I could take you all on a ride someday in summer. The car fits four people.”

“Why?” Tom asked before you could agree.

Ben raised his eyebrows again, a smile still plastered on his face. “For fun?”

“For fun,” Tom repeated and looked at you as if to ask you what Ben was trying to tell him.

“You should do more things just for fun, mate,” Ben chuckled. “Might help against that constant frown.”

Camille and you laughed quietly, both turning your faces away from the boys and you bit your tongue. Tom straightened his posture, his eyes darting across the table, apparently thinking hard.

“We’ll see about that,” he said and raised his glass. “Mate.”

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 years ago

Note

hey i loved your part 3 in aegon and his third wife! i would love to read the bedding ceremony of Rhaegar x stark reader (she is his first wife, there is no elia in the picture) Both of them barely know each other, but they gotta do it as areys wants proof, like the whole scene is awkward but cute.

This is a cute idea. I took Lyanna out so basically you have replaced her.

There he was, sitting amongst the boisterous Lords swaying and parading the delight throughout the evening; a fly on the wall concealed among the brash partying that took place on this ‘prosperous’ day. It would’ve been best to celebrate too, had it not been in your name, shared with your new husband and prince – the reception of your wedding was the talk of the entire realm and would be for weeks.

His Prince to the Iron Throne was quiet throughout the entire ceremony and through the vows, rarely even showing a smile to those of his closeness or even his close family. His mother, Queen Rhaella was full of smiles and tears for her eldest son, with the four-year-old Viserys, tucked and swaddled against her skirts, his pale lilac eyes wide in awe for the grandeur. His Grace, King Aerys II, was sat among all the Lords and Ladies of the realm, drinking in all the compliments and praises like a lap dog, ignoring those as he drank merrily; making japes with other intoxicated lords and flirting with his sister-wife’s married and single ladies in waiting.

Among your family, your brothers, father and mother were in a close-tight knit, barely taking to others except for your brothers Brandon and Eddard, whom, the younger of the Starks was talking to the possible match of Lady Ashara Dayne.

The loud-mouthed Lords that surrounded you were loud and touchy when the night progressed, making it harder to ignore the more the hours passed and the morning was almost parting the new day. The only thing that came from these was bedding; the part that since you were a little girl, always dreaded with your future husband.

The bedding came and went, with both lords and ladies helping to shed the clothing of you and Rhaegar, dragging you to his apartment when King Aerys made the announcement it was time; the gruelling japes he made when the hall cheered and howled like excited beasts.

You were flung into the chest of your husband with the door flinging shut behind you, the muffled drunk noises coming from outside the door did little in helping to clear your nerves; maybe even making them intensify.

His Silver Prince’s clothes were shredded thanks to the ladies of the court: barely even hanging on to his toned and clear skin, his chest visible and bare when you realised your fingers were holding to his chest, immediately pulling away in shame.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” you blushed, trying with great struggle to cover yourself. There was a long slash to your dress down, the back completely exposed and ripped. “I did not mean to overstep.”

“Please, we are man and wife now, you needn’t call me your Grace when we’re alone.” Rhaegar was everything you dreamt of in a husband but never thought you would get: handsome and brave, sensible and sensitive, he would be the best of Kings when his father was finally rid of. You did not think you would be married so soon: only did you realise from the secret talks between your father and him, did you realise you were to be bedded before even reaching your 20th name day.

A tentative hand to your cheek, warm and soft, startled you out of your thoughts, looking up into the tender indigo eyes of your husband and prince. Rhaegar was made of stone, and at this moment, you felt soft and vulnerable, made of silk and feathers; too soft to cope.

“We don’t need to do this if you’re not ready.” He murmured into your dark hair, your wide grey eyes were glassy as you tentatively hugged him back. “I do not want to force anything onto you, my lady.”

“No, I’m ready,” you found your voice, strained yet loud. “His Grace would deem me not fit to be your wife… your future Queen, if I don’t do this.”

“Don’t think of him at this moment, this is to do with you,” Rhaegar corrected, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Please, this is only to do with you.”

You bit the inside of your lip, collecting your thoughts, “I want to, yes. I’m ready, my Prince.”

Rhaegar stared down into your eyes to sought for your truth, concerned eyes scanning yours before he sighed, pulling away. “I fear you’re afraid of me… of what my family are.”

It was true you were a little intimidated by the Targaryens: of the dragons they had and of the power they still carry, but you knew little of what happened when the first Dragons came and bent the North into submission, only from stories told by Old Nan. You would be intimidated by His Grace and the Queen, but never would you be of Rhaegar. But the person you could say you were most frightened of had to be King Aerys. He was more mad than sane, a mad dog that had to be put down before further damage was done to Westeros. You could still remember the harsh jape he made when he announced your betrothal to Prince Rhaegar. “Perhaps the wolves will be put in their place further when cornered by a dragon.”

You leant into him closely, trying to tell him subtly for his touch which he reciprocated. “You do not fear me, nor do the Dragons. I am a Stark overall.”

“A Stark indeed,” he drawled. “But you are warm and passionate and a dragon too.”

He circled an arm around you, your body drawing in his warmth, his adoration, pulling yourself to ignore those waiting outside the door. “I promise you this,” he began. “That I will never lay a hand on you nor allow another to do so too. You are my wife, and I will make that clear to anyone.”

“Rhaegar.” You exhaled his name but found your words caught in your throat when no more words were spoken. “It is just us, at this moment in time. Just us.” He drew closer to your face, his warm lips touching against yours before you could register what was happening. It was as you enjoyed the first time when announced as man and wife at your wedding, beneath the Seven. His kiss was careful yet wanton, passionate and deep.

The remainder of clothes were dealt with as the two of you made it to the bed, drawing tense breaths the more you touched experimentally of one another, finally, becoming one that night, your moans echoing through the entire room, clear to anyone outside that you had done your duty.

Your naked bodies were splayed as bare for the Seven to see, beneath the canopy of yellow wood as you pressed chaste kisses to each other’s flesh. “One and together,” you breathed, watching your husband’s breathing grow shallow as he fell asleep silently before you snuggled into the crook of his arm, muttering, “I like the sound of that.”

#asoiaf #asoiaf au #asoiaf fic #Rhaegar Targaryen #reader is a stark #stark!reader #house targaryen #rhaegar x reader #rhaegar targaryen x stark reader #oc stark #you are basically lyanna stark #no elia martell #preasoiaf #no roberts rebellion

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itslieutenanthawkeye · 4 years ago

Text

The meadow, the river and him.

Day 5 of Jeankasa Week 2021: Angst

AO3

Mikasa reflects on her love before letting him know of big news

His body jolts in his sleep, which seems like an unnatural thing to do in the middle of the quiet, sunlit meadow. We were lulled to sleep by the birds in the trees merely ten minutes ago, and the nightmares are haunting him again. It’s not a strange occurrence for both us around this time of season, when summer begins to die.

I turn over in his arms and kiss his right cheek, while one of my hands combs back his hair. I take a moment to stare; he really is beautiful. The perfect lines of his face, the stubble on his chin, his nose, his lips, it is all so beautiful that -at the very beginning of our relationship, when the threads of love hadn’t been weaved together yet- I used to wonder what was it about me that had caught his eye for so long.

Jean stirs in his sleep again, mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over. We’ve barely slept the past few days and as much as I want him to rest, I can’t see him suffer for much longer. I sit up, lean over his face, and place a kiss on his lips, tapping gently on his cheek.

“Mikasa?” He always says my name upon waking up; he’s always looking for my presence both in his sleep and reality. With time I learned how much I also longed to look for him, how wonderful it felt to say his name and have him reply with a loving smile and a kiss.

“I’m here,” I say, making shooshing noises as I kiss his neck. “You were having a nightmare.”

Jean rubs the back of my head, breathing much more easily. “It was an awful nightmare,” he says shakily. “Come here, look at me.”

I settle into his arms like a bird into its nest, hugging his chest while locking eyes with him. Years ago, I thought that my home had burned with the destruction of the world. But now his arms are home, a new, sweet, love-infused home I never want to leave.

“What was the nightmare about?” I ask after a moment of silence.

“Lay back,” he requests sweetly. I lie on the blanket, which is still warm despite being under the shade of a tree. He climbs on top of me, and I wait for him to start taking off my red dress, or for his hands to explore beneath my underpants. But all Jean does is press his head against my chest, leaning against my left breast.

“Honey, what is it?” I ask again, putting both of my hands on his head, enjoying the scent of his shampoo.

He looks up at me after a while. “Your heartbeat,” he says; his voice is shaking, his eyes have the glint of tears in them. “I want to make sure you’re one hundred percent here.”

“Jean, I’m alive,” I say, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I’m alive and I’m all yours, alright? Forget that nightmare.”

He hugs me, burying his face between my breasts in a position that, thirty minutes ago, I would’ve found arousing. But seeing him tear up from his bad dreams only stirs the protective instinct in me. I understand his fears when it comes to losing me, for I fear the same thing. He’s a proper man now, stronger than when he was a teenager and a great ambassador for peace. And yet, all I want to do is protect him, keep in between my arms for the rest of our days, out of harm’s way.

“Mikasa,” he sobs, lifting his face to look at me again. “It was a really awful dream.”

“It’s over now,” I say, grabbing his face to kiss him for a long minute. “It wasn’t real. You’re with me, and it’s really warm, and we should go take a dip in the river.”

“The worst nightmares I have are about losing you,” he whimpers. “I’m always okay when I realize you’re still here with me.”

Jean kisses me again, pressing his naked torso against me. My hands travel the muscles in his back; he’s so perfectly well built, almost chiseled by hand. I’ve never been one to fall for someone for his looks, but I have never denied that his beautiful body caught my eye long before I even thought of him as a lover, as anything other than a good friend.

“I love you, Jean,” I whisper, kissing his cheeks, lips, and forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, Mikasa,” he whispers back as I use my fingers to wipe the remaining tears on his face. “I love you so much, that sometimes I’m scared that the nightmares are the real world, and this is just an illusion.”

“It isn’t.” I say firmly. “This is real life. You and me, that is real life. The bad things are behind us.”

“I love you, gorgeous.”

“I love you too, handsome.” I say, giving him the sweet smile that was born at the same time as my love for him was. Not once I thought I would smile and laugh this often, and this sincerely. “I love you so, so very much.”

We stay in silence for a long time, wallowing in the love we have for each other. His breathing steadies, and I know that he’s past the initial terror from his nightmare when he looks up at me with a shy smirk. “You mentioned the river, didn’t you? I thought you didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“I didn’t.” I say, smiling cheekily.

“That means you and I get to go skinny dipping.”

“That’s precisely why I didn’t bring any bathing suit.” I say, kissing him again.

Jean helps me undo the buttons of my dress. We’re well accustomed to each other’s bodies by now. I still remember us not being able to keep our hands off each other the first couple of weeks after our first night together…although that hasn’t changed much, I think as he kisses the length of my back while squeezing my breasts. “Swimming, lover boy,” I remind him, tilting my head to the side so he can kiss my neck. “We’re going swimming first.”

“Sorry,” Jean says. Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling.

We finish removing our clothes and dip into the river holding each other’s hands. The water is cool on my skin; the heatwaves at the end of summer have become worse after the rumbling, so Jean and I have made a bit of a habit of coming here to cool off on our free days. It’s our little corner of the world away from everyone and everything, our quiet paradise.

I dip my head under water, and he does the same. When we come out, the breeze feels fresher.

I have a hope it’ll remain untouched by modernization, a hope I know won’t come true. With all the new trade routes established, and the help coming into Shingashina straight from Hizuru’s mines, I know civilization will extend into our little paradise.

“You’re all serious now,” Jean says, taking a hold of me. I float closer to him, wrap my legs around his waist and my hands around his neck. “What’s on your mind?”

I kiss him. “I’m thinking I don’t want anyone to build a park here…or a factory.”

“It would be harder to go skinny dipping.” He says; we’re both aware of my hardened nipples against his chest, of the thing hardening just between his legs. The swimming won’t go on for long, but that’s alright.

“Want me to buy the place?” Jean asks.

“With whose money?”

“Some people owe me favors in the continent and Hizuru, remember?” Jean says, shrugging with some of the ego that characterized his teenage self, making me giggle. His hands are on my lower back, and it won’t take them long to go further below. “I could ask for a loan…”

“Don’t get yourself into debt for me.” I laugh, kissing him again. “I’m sure they’d give us the money straight up.”

“Alright, then want me to buy this place for you?” Jean says. “We could build a house, right there by the tree. It would be our summer home, away from the city.”

I think about it for a while. “It could be a good place to raise a family,” I say slowly, leaning on his shoulder to examine the quiet meadow, the distant mountains. “A place to grow old in.”

“That apartment will only get us so far.” Jean says, looking at the spot I’m focusing on as well. I know he’s imagining the house, our future. “I mean, when we start having children, we won’t all fit in there.”

“How many children are you trying to get me to have?” I ask, looking up at him, the whole of me aware of his manhood pressing against my entrance, fully awakened now. “Ten? Fifteen?”

He shrugs. “Three will be good. Three is a good number.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Three sounds like a plan.”

I kiss him again, my tongue dipping into his mouth. It’s been a couple of years since we got married, and we only started talking about children a few months ago. I was the one who started the conversations, in fact. I still smile at the memory of his dumbfounded expression as I brought out the subject of children, how his face changed from surprise to elation.

His kisses stray from my mouth to my neck, then finally to my nipples. He takes them in his mouth and runs his tongue over them, while three of his fingers enter me. I tilt my head back, enjoying the movements of his long fingers inside me, my eyes on the blue, cloudless sky above us.

It doesn’t take long for him to carry me back to the blanket under the tree. “So long for the swimming.” I say against his ear.

“We have the whole afternoon.” He replies. “We can dip in later.”

“And what will we do now?”

“Want to get started making the first baby?” He asks as he lays me down. He places himself on top of me; my hands go to his face, and I settle my eyes on him. Cooling off from the heatwave isn’t the only reason why I wanted to come here today.

“About that,” I say, taking a deep breath. “We don’t need to get started at all.”

Jean blinks, confused. “What do you mean? Do you want to wait some more?”

I sigh. “You’re hopeless,” I say, kissing his lips for a moment before whispering. “I’m already pregnant, Jean.”

He looks at me, his eyes filling with tears. But these aren’t tears of despair nor fear. These are happy tears, tears that wash away the pain from the past. It’s the same tears I shed when I realized I was madly, irrevocably in love with him.

“When?” He asks, placing quick kisses on my face. “When did we make it?”

“We’ve been trying every night for months, haven’t we?” I say with a low giggle; his stubble always tickles me when he kisses me like this. But he looks too good with it to ask him to shave it off. “I must be about three, four weeks pregnant, if I’m guessing right.”

“Does my mom know? Does Armin know? Connie?” He asks, not giving me time to answer.

“I sent a letter to Armin and Annie, one to Pieck, one to Reiner,” I say, smiling widely as I put a strand of hair behind his ear. “Your mom knows. Connie knows because he was there when I told your mother.”

“When did you tell her?”

“Just yesterday,” I say, letting another moment go by so he can kiss me. “I wanted to tell you here. This is our spot, after all.”

“When did you find out?” Jean asks; it seems he cannot stop kissing my face.

“About a week ago. I wanted to tell you earlier, but we could never find time to come here.”

“I fucking hate my job, I could’ve known a week ago.” Jean mutters, making me laugh. He looks at me and chuckles as well. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t curse so near the baby.”

Something clicks in him, and he scrambles to stand up, looking terrified. “I’m sorry!” He shouts, startling me. “I’m lying on top of you like a dumbass.”

“Is that bad?” I ask, confused.

“I don’t want to hurt our baby!” He says, pacing back and forth naked. I cover my mouth to giggle lowly; as beautiful as he is, seeing him naked with that silly look on his face makes me laugh like a little kid making fun of an adult. “We need to start getting everything we need. We need to find a doctor to see you. Do you want to give birth in Shingashina? I know Historia will let us in the royal palace if you want something more comfortable.”

“Jean, honey, we have nine months.” I say, feeling my love for him grow bigger, if possible. “We can think about all of that later.”

“I can’t help it,” Jean asks, beaming as he sits next to me. “I’m so fucking excited —sorry, no cursing in front of the baby.”

“The baby won’t mind.” I say. “I’m sure he or she loves you already.”

“You think so?” He says, placing a hand on my lower abdomen. I put my hand on top of his; it’s hard for me to believe life is growing inside me. A life he helped create, a life that will be half his, half mine. “Do you think our baby really loves me already?”

“I’m sure our baby feels the love I have for you, and they love you just as strongly,” I say, nearing my face to his to kiss him. His tongue touches mine again, and we both lie back on the grass, feeling each other’s bodies as our mouths are intertwined. He leans slightly to press half of his weight on my body, grinding his shaft against me. I take a hold of it, placing my legs so one tiny movement will push him inside me.

“Make love to me.” I whisper.

“I don’t wanna hurt the baby.”

“Jean!” I say, rolling my eyes in amusement. “You won’t hurt the baby!”

“How big am I, Mika?” He asks seriously, pulling back.

I cast a glance at his throbbing manhood. “Quite big, yes,” I say, feeling my cheeks heating up. “Which is very nice. I enjoy it very much each time you make love to me.”

“What if I hurt the baby?” He asks, looking genuinely concerned. I stare at him for a long moment, my sweet expression dropping as each second passes. Another moment goes by, and laughter escapes my chest in uncontrollable bouts; it echoes around us and is carried away by the wind.

“You’re such an idiot!” I laugh, covering my mouth as I start snorting. “You and I are going to drop by a bookstore on our way back.”

“The bookstore?” Jean says, blinking in confusion.

“You need to know more anatomy, Jean Kirstein.” I laugh, and he starts laughing with me.

“Alright, I’m an idiot,” he says, putting his hand on my cheek. My laughter dies slowly, but my love for him remains as strong as before. Stronger now, perhaps, after that stupidly naïve comment. “I’ll try my best to learn about pregnancy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was adorable,” I say, kissing his cheek. “We still have two to go, don’t we? So, you’ve got plenty time to learn. But I would like you to read some more about anatomy, please. Didn’t you pay attention to sex ed with Hange?”

“It’s not like they knew much about sex ed,” Jean replies, scrunching up his face at the memory. “Didn’t they spend a whole afternoon talking about their theories on how titans should reproduce? The whole asexual reproduction plant comparison?”

I giggle again, feeling only the smallest twinge of pain from the memory of Hange. Grief never leaves us, not really. It comes and goes, in waves, sometimes as huge as tsunamis, some other times mere undulations on the water.

“Do you want a girl or a boy?” He asks, kissing my breast.

“A girl would be nice.” I say, smiling at him.

“A girl would be great. Can you imagine? A little girl that looks exactly like you but has my talent for singing?” Jean agrees, and I push him playfully.

“Watch it, Kirstein! I’m not a bad singer.”

Jean smiles, brushing hair away from my face while looking at me like I’ve been just weaved out of sunlight. “I’ll buy this place for you, alright? It’ll be our home. Our baby girl is going to grow up here, I’ll teach her how to fish.”

“Things will get busy from now on,” I say. “A baby is a big responsibility.”

“You’ll be the best mom, I just know it,” he assures me, wrapping me in a warm embrace. I close my eyes and hug him back.

“And you’ll be the best dad.” I say, waiting a moment to add. “Handsomest dad, too.”

“And you’ll be the hottest mom around.”

I giggle. “Are you trying to seduce me, Kirstein?”

“All the time, Ackerman.”

Our lips meet again, and we’re lost in each other. To this day, I am grateful for this connection we’ve built out of rubble. His love saved me from the precipice of grief; it told me I was not doomed.

Humans would never rid themselves off their greed for power, their hatred for one another, however, and our experiences during the peace negotiations were proof of that. But ten years have passed, and we have left most of the horrors behind. And although I’m sure that, in the distant future, us humans will simply commit the same crimes against each other again, for now I don’t have to worry about that.

For now, it’s the soft blanket of sunlight that wraps me up every day. For now it’s the promise that, like the change of winter into spring, everything comes alive again…even after it’s been set ablaze. For now, it’s the certainty that things can be good again. For now, all I want is the happiness and hope his love has brought me…no, the happiness and hope our love has brought to each other.

For now it’s just Jean and I, the meadow and the river.

#Jeankasa #Jean x Mikasa #Jean Kirstein #jean kirschtien #eren jaeger #jeankasaweek2021 #Jeankasa Week 2021 #fic #ao3 #fluff #shingeki no kyojin fic #smut

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ingeniouscollectionthing · 5 years ago

Text

My Always (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, fluffy smut, really, really, really detailed smut, nice Tom

Request: Would you write something about virgin Tom? Like the reader is a confident girl he had a crush on for a while and she gently guides him through his insecurities? Would be a nice contrast to the dom smut there is about him.

Slowly you were walking back to Hogwarts Castle from your day at Hogsmeade. It was Winter and snowflakes were falling, coating the streets in a blanket of white cotton. You snuggled yourself more into your scarf coloured in the beautiful green of House Slytherin, while looking around the beautfiul winter landscape.

A squeeze of your hand brought you back to reality and you looked at the person holding it.

„Are you cold?“, Tom asked, wrapping his arm now around your waist and drawing you in closer into his side.

„A bit, actually, yeah.“, you replied, looking up at him with a smile, your cheeks and nose coated in a light rosy shade.

“Don’t worry, we’re back in no time. How does some nice hot tea and a good book sound to you? We could snuggle by the fire place”, he said, sending you a beautiful shy smile.

“Sounds lovely”, you whispered, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek, making his cheeks flush into a deeper shade of red.

It’s been a year now since you and Tom started dating and it was the happiest you’ve ever been, really. He was very conservative, as gentlemen of your time should be. He treated you like a princess, always there for you, gifting you beautiful things and sneaking in small kisses here and there. You spent your time together cuddling, mostly reading books and sitting in comfortable silence.

Although you were quite happy with your relationship, you noticed a slight change in the last two weeks. While it was a relationship full of love and happiness, little kisses and cuddles on the couch in the common room, it slowly started turning into something way deeper. Everytime you looked at Tom you noticed his unbelievable handsomeness, more than ever before, and you always got that funny feeling in your neither region, often catching yourself thinking about dirty things.

Feeling your cheeks growing warm, you looked down to the floor, trying to hide your face from Tom, as you slowly walked into the castle, making your way to your common room.

Tom noticed though, as he also noticed the change. He realized that the air around you two went from innocent to more passionate. Soft kisses turned into longer ones, often resulting in a beautiful make out session. He caught himself trailing his eyes from yours down to your lips, and more often than he wanted further down your body, mapping out every curve hidden beneath your clothes.

Right now he had to try and hide the slightly noticeable bulge growing in his pants, while he daydreamed what it would be like if you did more than just cuddling, what it could be like behind closed doors - to feel your warm skin on his, kissing you wherever he wanted, while slowly and gently pounding into your warm, wet puss-.

Stop it Tom, he thought. I’m not allowed to think about her that way.. About the way her beautiful plump lips would look around my- Stop!

It was embarrassing for him, for you were not supposed to have sex before marrying. What would your parents think? They already disliked him pretty much, for you chose him, a halfblooded orphaned boy, as your partner. You were everything he ever dreamed of. Brilliant and cunning in your mind, confident and loving in your heart and a dashing beauty in your looks. He was just him.

While he was quite powerful in his magical abilities, he wasn’t so sure about everything else. While other girls worshipped the ground he walked on, he didn’t see himself worthy of being by your side. After all, he didn’t know if he deserved your love – no one else really loved him, so why you?

“Tommy? Did you hear what I said?”, you brought him back from his thoughts.

“No I’m sorry, Darling, I just zoned out.. What was it you talked about?”, Tom said, looking at you.

“I just asked if you’d like to cuddle in your dorm, instead of in the common room. You know, it would be more private… And your friends are not as nosy as mine.”, you said, as you sent him a brilliant smile. In reality you didn’t worry about cuddling at all, you felt that a certain kind of lust made you act on impulse, you needed him.

“Uhm.. I mean.. Yeah sure.. Why n-not.”, he stuttered and cleared his throat. You laughed a bit at his shy behaviour, it was so unlike of what others saw him as. You loved it.

Tom on the other hand hated it. It seems that all confidence vanished as soon as he looked into your beautiful (e/c) eyes, which shone brightly in the light. Right now he was nervous. You never took cuddling to the bedroom, although it was no different from cuddling on the couch in the common area. Or was it?

Well shit, he thought. It’s just us. In my bed. In my room. In Privacy. Just us. Cuddling…Kissing…Making out…Maybe making love.. Wait what?

Again he was thrown from his thoughts as you stopped in front of the common room entrance. The snake engraved into the door, turned it’s head into your direction, waiting for the password.

“Ego sum princeps * ”, Tom said, and slowly the portal opened. Hand in hand you walked past your fellow Slytherin’s, who followed both of you with curious looks as you made your way to the boys dormitories. To Tom’s and your relief it was in fact empty.

You both settled down on his bed, each with a book in hand while you both snuggled into each other after shedding off your winter clothes. You’ve been there for quite a while now, lying in his arms. You’ve barely read the words written on the pages. Instead your mind wandered around, thinking about what could happen right now.

As if reading your mind Tom looked at you, both of you holding eye contact while slowly leaning in. Your lips met in a slow sensual kiss, which lasted for far longer than you two had anticipated. The book laid forgotten on your lap as your hands slowly but steadily wandered up over Toms shirt clad chest, stroking in a circular motion up to his broad shoulders. Tom shuddered lightly, breaking the kiss to draw a long shaky breath. You looked at him, loosing yourself in his beautiful greenish blue eyes.

To your surprise he showed no signs of shying away, instead he slowly cupped your cheek in his big hand and pulled you towards him. Your lips met again, this time much more primal than ever before. Bent up passion made it’s way to the surface of your very beings and slowly and unsurely Tom licked your lower lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth. You granted it, but instead of fighting for dominance you both explored each other in a calm manner. Slowly his hand wandered down your face, over your arm until it landed on your waist. He squeezed softly and you let out a soft moan. And Tom snapped his hand back suddenly, breaking the kiss.

“I – I’m so sorry.. I didn’t mean to be so indecent”, he stuttered, a blush creeping up his neck. He avoided all eye contact.

You pouted, grabbing his face and making him look at you.

“No don’t be”, you sucked in a sharp breath, continuing in a sensual whisper “I liked it”.

And with that you pulled him back to you, your hands tangling in his raven black locks. Tom’s hand came back on your waist, now squeezing with a bit more confidence. Slowly you both turned, his back was propped up on the headboard of his bed, while you sat in his lap. Your hands explored each other slowly, the kisses became harder, less loving but more lustful, and Tom became more flustered by the second. Your hands traveled back to his neck, now trying to unbutton his white shirt.

“No (Y/N) wait!”, Tom whispered his eyes still closed.

“Are you not alright with this, Tommy? We can stop now”, you said, withdrawing your hands.

“Yes, no, I mean yes I am alright with this, b – but this isn’t right. I mean it feels right, because I love you so much.. But I’m supposed to be a gentleman and – and I’m supposed to be conservative. I just can’t take your virginity without marrying you because – because..”, Tom’ s rambling stopped, he looked at you. Merlin, his heart was beating out of his chest.

“Because what, darling? You can tell me”, you said reassuringly.

“Because what if I’m not the one to marry you?” All his insecurities spilled out of his mouth at once. “I mean I don’t care about m-my virginity, but you – you are such a brilliant, beautiful young witch and I’m soo goddamn scared that I could never be enough for you, that I won’t be the one putting a ring on your finger. And I know it’s bound to happen that you’ll leave someday, because I always end up alone…. I just – I don’t want you to give yourself to me so readily and defile your name, if I’m possibly not your forever.”

You processed all of his words, tears clouding your vision.

“You’re right you won’t be my forever” Tom’s heart broke at your words and he tried to keep it together until-

“You’re so much more than that, Tommy. My forever, my always, my soulmate, my lover, my partner in crime, my best friend. Call it whatever you want, but I’ll always be here right by your side. There will never be someone else as perfect in my eyes as you are. Let the whole world be damned, I want to be yours. Always”

Tom looked at you, stunned, not knowing what to do.

“Tom. Make love to me”

And he lunged forward enveloping you in his arms before kissing you with such a passion, your heart almost leapt out of your chest. Now everything was a blur. Slowly you undressed each other, leaving you completely bare. Tom drew the curtains closed around his four-poster bed, before turning to you again.

“You’re so beautiful”, he said, his hand stroking the side of your hips. You looked into his eyes as you guided his hand up to your chest. Shyly he grabbed one of your breasts, his eyes sparkling as he witnessed the pleasured sigh that left your lips. His confidence grew as his finger slowly circled around your nipple, making it instantly hard. He did the same to the other before he suddenly took one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently on it.

“T-Tom”, you whispered, one of your hands tangled in his hair, as the other started exploring his body.

Slowly you stroked down his chest, over his beautiful prominent abs, until you reached the most intimate body part of his. You’ve never done this before and you had no idea what you were doing as you slowly grabbed his erect cock in your hand, stroking up and down. Tom shuddered, leaving your breasts with a slight popping noise as his eyes rose to meet yours. Both of your faces were flushed, pupils blown. Tom kissed you again, now beginning a little fight about dominance, as his hands mimicked your earlier movements until you felt his fingers around your pussy. Slowly he tested the waters – he started spreading your lower lips, while his thumb started circling your clit.

You jolted as some kind of electricity shot through you, making you grab his cock harder. He groaned into your mouth and suddenly – one of his fingers slowly made his way into your waiting, warm and wet cunt.

“You’re so wet (Y/N)”, Tom whispered in astonishment, pumping his finger slowly.

“Only for you Tom”, you moaned, fastening your movements.

You felt as he inserted a second finger, stretching you so deliciously. You felt so full.

Tom felt as if he was in heaven. The girl of his dreams lying in his arms, squirming in pleasure he gave her. He groaned again as your small hand travelled down his big cock, cupping his balls gently.

Merlin’s beard, he thought. I can’t get enough.

Acting on instinct, you grabbed his hand in a gentle manner, making his fingers leave your pussy. You guided it to your mouth, licking his fingers covered in your juices clean. You maintained eye contact and Tom took in a deep breath. Then you grabbed onto his shoulders and lifted yourself up, guiding his erect, hard and big cock in between your folds. Slowly it slipped inside your warm and waiting walls. It hurt and you grabbed harder onto Toms shoulders.

“Shhh.. It’s alright, darling. I’ve got you”, Tom whispered, panting hard, while grabbing your hips and helping you down on his shaft. You both groaned, as he was settled deeply inside you. Slowly you started moving, the pleasure replacing the pain. You both panted loudly, not caring if Tom’s dormmates would burst into the room right now.

Tom wrapped his arms around you, pulling him towards you. He kissed you hard, his hands now exploring your whole body, before you guided them to each of your ass cheeks. You looked at him, saying in a breathless voice,

“Don’t be shy my love. I’m all yours”

And Tom squeezed hard, surely leaving behind some red marks.

Your movements picked up speed, your moans getting louder by the second, as he hit every right spot inside you.

A sudden rush of confidence led Tom to flip you both over, making you lie down on your back and wrap your legs around his waist. You continued to make out, while Tom started picking up ab bit speed, as his thrusts became rougher. His balls slapped against your flesh, the smell of sex wafting around the room, while your moans spurred each other on.

“Tommy – ohh yes! Fuck – right there!” You moaned, scratching down his back.

“You feel so good, (Y/N)! So good! I don’t think I can last any longer!”, Tom groaned kissing up and down your neck.

“Rub my clit, Tom. Please! Make me cum Tommy!”, you whimpered. His hand wandered down to your tight pussy, slowly rubbing circles on your little bundle of nerves.

“Is that alright? Do you like that? Do you like how I rub your clit?”, Tom asked, not realizing how dirty he actually sounded, fully intended on pleasing you.

“Oh Tommy! Yes! Yes! I’m – I’m coming!”, you moaned loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair, moaning his name over and over again, as a beautiful feeling washed over you, making you squeeze your pussy around Tom’s big cock.

“(Y) – (Y/N)! Fuucck!” His hips stuttered as his cum shot into your waiting womb, marking you as his.

Gently he laid himself down on top of you, careful not to crush you. Both of you panted as you basked in the afterglow of your orgasms.

After a while Tom pulled out of your still pulsing pussy, watching as it tried to keep in every drop of his seed.

He looked up at you, as you cupped his cheek in your hand and he leant up to kiss you slowly, before he rolled to his side of the bed, gathering you in his arms. You both looked at eachother, content smiles plastered on your faces.

Tom put a strand of hair behind your ear, while whispering in a soft voice,

“I love you”

“I love you more”, you said, closing your eyes.

“(Y/N)?” Tom said, pulling you even more towards him.

“Yes?”

The door to Tom’s room opened and his dormmates gathered inside, disturbing the comfortable aura in your little nest. Lucky for you, the curtains kept you in your loving Little bubble.

“Will you marry me?”

Outside, the boy’s bickering fell into silence, listening carefully to hear your answer.

(*I am a leader - Password)

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #voldemort #voldemort x reader #young voldemort x reader #lord voldemord #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle lemon #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #smut #fluff

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sanieee · 4 years ago

Text

ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕣

Au: Non-idol au

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Summary: Different backgrounds do matter sometimes, because even if everything is working out, the relationship will come to an end due to some factors. And Mingi knows it.

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.5k

A/N: I got inspired by The Chainsmokers - Closer. And Idk about making a part 2, you guys can tell me if I should.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

ᴴᵉʸ, ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ

Hongjoong ︳Seonghwa ︳Yunho ︳Yeosang ︳San ︳Mingi ︳Wooyoung ︳Jongho

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

To begin with, yes, maybe both of you were completely different, and so were your group of friends, completely different lifestyles. But it didn’t matter as long as you had each other at that time. Freshman year of university meant a new beginning for many, and you were going to take any opportunity the universe gave you, and so was Mingi.

When you both met, you didn’t click instantly. He didn’t like you, you didn’t like him. He thought of you as the typical ‘rich kid’ that had their parents paying for anything and everything. He didn’t know you tried very hard to get grades that got you to graduate as an honor student. You thought of him as the simple kid who entered just by a sport scholarship, and the piercings that he had made him unapproachable. What you didn’t know was that, even if he did get that scholarship, he went through sleepless nights to exceed any exam.

It took some time to get used to each other, but what made you friends was when you fell asleep in the library and woke up to see him seated right in front of you studying statistics silently. His dedication made you intrigued, and after some study dates, he asked you out.

It was really sweet and very unexpected. You had finished studying together on a cold winter day and it was getting dark, he hid his hands in his warm leather jacket while you were trying to maintain your body warmth by wrapping your neck with your long scarf. You were going to say goodbye, but he asked you if you were hungry. You were a bit taken aback but you said yes nonetheless.

He nodded and by the movement of his shoulder, he pointed to his black motorcycle. You looked at him worried and shook your head no. You could easily call your father so he could pick you up with his fancy looking white car, and your words for Mingi were, “I ain’t getting on that death machine.” To which he laughed and told you he wasn’t going to let you get hurt, and by his words “I am still alive and I have been driving that death machine for years, didn't get in any accidents, I think you’ll be okay.”

You hesitated but as you watched his back going further away from you, you made up your mind. He stood in front of it and observed you running like a penguin to him. He smiled and helped you get on it. Now, were you scared and didn’t open your eyes until a few minutes later? Yes. But did he mind you were hugging him? No.

He took you to eat in a fast food restaurant, but what could you ask for when it was almost midnight? So there you were, sitting on a table inside a colorful establishment eating some greasy food along with bags of ketchup. You were laughing so hard while he told you stories about his group. You looked like kids left by your parents to explore the world without a care for anyone.

And before the employees could kick you out, you left voluntarily. Once again in his motorcycle, he took you to the lake at the hill fairly close besides your house. And while you were sitting on the railing, he had his hands on both your sides in case you fell. And it was the twinkle in your eyes when you talked about what you loved, the smell of your perfume and your pink lips, that made him lean in for a quick peck.

Your words were cut short and your face became hot in an instant, you want to forget the fact that you were stupid enough to hide your face with both your hands and almost falling into the water. Mingi laughed and hugged you close, then he spilled his thoughts to you.

“It may be unexpected, but I find you very attractive and I would love it if you gave me a chance.”

And who are you to say no when you felt the same way?

Your friends were happy for you, his friends were glad he settled down. And you were delighted to have each other. It became a ritual to go to the lake for special days, and you had so many memories there.

Your first kiss? Under the tree of the lake on a summer evening while the sun was setting. Your first anniversary date? A picnic with homemade food, which Seonghwa and Wooyoung took part in, and a fancy wine along with it, by the lake. Your first fight? Yeah it was way better to yell where not many people were there. Your makeup make out? You must remember the tree you had your first kiss at, intimate moments happened between four walls in your or his bedroom. Remember that time you shed tears because he left?

Oh, gosh, that last part was somehow unanticipated and obviously not by the lake. He came to your house one day, both feeling like the spark was slowly dying. But you didn’t want to leave each other, or at least you didn’t want him to leave you, your flame was still there. But sometimes, feelings die. And he told you. Told you that he was not feeling the same warmth, that he felt like you were keeping secrets because it just felt.. Bland and repetitive. He didn’t mean you were keeping secrets, he meant you, you both. He voiced out that maybe you should end it, find another desire.

You didn’t scream, you didn’t yell at him. You just tried to reason with him, told him you could revive that warmth, that you didn’t want to lose him. But when he turned his back to you, and closed your door, you knew that you were single once again. That night you fell asleep with tears in your eyes, and woke up the same way. Your mother was not faced by your state, and just told you to get over him.

But could you? You held so many memories with him. Weeks passed and you wanted to be with him, in his little cozy apartment that he shared with Jeong Yunho and Kang Yeosang. You didn’t even want the small cinema you had at your house, you wanted to be in his arms, laying on his bed as you watched some Netflix series on his TV under the blankets of his roommates. You didn’t throw away the cheap rings he bought in the store next door, you thought they were very pretty, even if they were not silver like the ones you had. But your father made you take down the photos you had with him hanging on the wall, because if he is not part of your life anymore, don’t hold onto him.

When he broke up with you, it was your last year as an undergraduate. At graduation, he just told you good luck and left with his friends. Kim Hongjoong was not entirely happy seeing your face and he made it clear that he didn’t want you besides his group. And your group didn’t want his group. So you couldn’t look at each other for a second before any of your friends got in between. What hurt the most was when he ignored you on purpose, so you decided to do the same,

We all know that time doesn’t wait and you eventually got over him. You went out with your friends again, party until you couldn't feel your feet, you did a masters degree, you found your dream job, you were popular on social media and traveled on your own thanks to your social skills.

You stayed several years away from home, your parents always reminding you that you should get a boyfriend soon, get married and give them a grandchild. To which you said that they will have their wishes come true whenever you felt like granting them. Sure you had a fling here and there, sometimes got together with a guy just to call him your boyfriend for a year or less. They say that your first love is special because it is the most innocent and pure form of love, and no matter how hard you try, you will never stop missing your first love. So maybe that is why you can’t stop comparing every guy you meet with your first relationship.

But when you came back home, when your friends made you go to a party in an expensive hotel, that’s where you saw him again. And even though you were sure years ago that the spark of your relationship was burnt off, seeing his face may revive it back.

He was dressed simple, a suit with the first buttons of his dress shirt opened. And even so, you were captivated by him. He was even more handsome than in your senior year. When your eyes met, he was just as surprised. Did you know he thought you were even prettier than all the models combined in the room?

Maybe he got to tell you that night. Maybe you were able to hear little secrets. And both of you hoped you could taste each other's lips for one last time if you were given the opportunity to.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Thanks for reading and comment if you want a part two!

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joonsrack · 4 years ago

Text

Masterpiece | KTH x KNJ

+PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: Oneshot, crack, angst, smidge of smut, College AU, stranger to lover

+WORD COUNT: ~13k

+RATING: 18+

+WARNING: Taehyung has face blindness, NSFW, (very) foul language, overuse of the word penis and it’s synonyms, pinning, misunderstandings, Namjoon is like real’ dumb, a little hanky panky but nothing scandalous.

+SUMMARY:

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his [REDACTED], but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung.

(OR the one where Taehyung has face blindness but that won't stop him from finding love. )

+A/N: Well, it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted anything, and almost as much time since i last wrote anything (except for the occasional guilt writing lmao). So this is me coming back with a vengeance (and the dumbest thing i’ve ever written). This is all thanks to (or to be blamed on) @minloop who put up with my non-stop messaging, gave me some plot ideas, and actually inspired me to finish this in three days. Thank you to my baby @emojihobi for the emotional support and the beta reading 💖

+Disclaimer: I got all my info on face blindness from google searches, so please forgive any inaccuracy.

Face blindness has definitely made Taehyung’s life difficult.

There’s the obvious problem of not being able to recognize your parents. Remember this childhood trauma of holding a random stranger’s hands in the mall, thinking it’s your mother or father? Taehyung had to live through that many, many times; except he wouldn’t realize until said stranger would shake his hand off, or until his parents would swoop in to get him. The fact that he’s never been kidnapped is down to pure luck, really.

Making friends, you guessed it, has also been a challenge. It’s difficult explaining to kids why you ignored them when you saw each other in the hallway. Kids don’t always understand “I didn’t recognize you” as an explanation, especially if you’ve been in the same class since pre-k.

But this? This is a new and unforeseen crisis.

His dorm room is very quiet, which is not unusual since he has a solo room. But he’s pretty sure he went to sleep with a plus one, and said plus one is nowhere to be seen.

Now, he isn’t a stranger to one-night stands sneaking out after he falls asleep. He likes to take night conquests to his dorm room for this exact reason; He can go right to sleep, while they take themselves out. Easy breezy no string attached-y. That’s usually the way he wants it to be.

But this time is different. Last night was different. Last night, Taehyung had the best night of his life, hands down. Best bangs of his existence. Bangs plural because they went more than once. How that’s even possible when his teenage years are long gone and days with multiple orgasms are less and less common, he has no idea.

He’s probably ruined for anyone else. Nothing could ever compare to the night he just spent getting his back blown out.

Now, Taehyung is a sculptor. A very gifted one at that (if his teachers’ praises are anything to go by). Taehyung knows body proportions, knows perfect rations, all that stuff. He knows it on marble bodies, in sketches, in painting. Not on actual human beings.

Until last night.

Last night, he witnessed the body of a god. He scratched at perfect skin, held on to beautifully defined and strong arms, rode perfect thighs. Last night, he shed a tear at the view of some perfect knees. Last night, he realized that art truly imitates nature.

And that’s not all.

Taehyung can admit he owns a nice dick; it’s decently shaped, the color is nice, and the size is slightly over average.

But what he witnessed the night before?

The Narcissus of dicks; the most beautiful dick on the planet. The most beautiful dick in history . Probably even prettier than Narcissus’ face himself. (But Taehyung doesn’t know what Narcissus' face looks like, so he’s only assuming.)

From the perfect red color of its beautifully shaped head to the gracefully intertwined veins leading to a sturdy looking hilt, peppered with well-kept pubic hair, ending in an exquisitely wrinkled ballsack. The girth was over average; big enough to make size queens (such as Taehyung) salivate, but not big enough to scare away enthusiasts. And the length? The dude is lucky he’s a grower and not a show-er, or he would never know peace. Mainly because the likes of Taehyung or Park Jimin would never let him be.

But where is that most perfect penis right now?

Attached to its perfectly shaped and mysterious owner, probably miles away.

Very problematic, indeed.

“So what you’re saying is, you fell asleep, and when you woke up he was gone? Isn’t that how it’s usually supposed to go?” Yoongi sounds disgruntled on the other end of the face call, face half mushed in his pillow, hair disheveled and eyes squinty. It’s not yet 1 pm after all, which is still considered morning for people like Min Yoongi.

“Noooo, not this time.” Taehyung whines,” This time he was supposed to stick around and ask me to marry him in the morning. Isn’t that obvious? We went at it four times for fuck sake, doesn’t that mean anything anymore?”

Jimin chokes on his matcha oatmeal milk latte, eyes going wide. “Four times?! Now that is a monster stamina. He basically squeezed your balls dry.” There’s a pause, then he says to someone off-camera, “It’s rude to stare, ma’am.”

“Stop ruining my morning with your screaming,” Yoongi grunts out, rubbing his eyes. “So what do you want us to do about this?”

Taehyung fumbles around his desk for a moment, looking through his piles of sketches until he finds it, his only clue.

“Do you two know this man?” He asks, pulling out a sketch he did quickly off his memory of the mystery man’s body. He pulls out a second one, this one is a close-up of his perfect penis. He might have gone off tangent with the shading, but he couldn't stop himself, that dick deserves all the shading.

“Jesus fuck.” Yoongi signs.

“Baby, I’m sure you’re aware that if I knew anyone with a body and a dick like that, you would never have been able to put your dirty paws on him.”

Taehyung turns hopeful eyes to Yoongi after glaring at Jimin for a good 10 seconds, but Yoongi only shakes his head no.

“I don’t have a habit of making my friends strip around me, sadly. I wouldn’t be able to tell even if I knew him.”

“You two are useless” Taehyung signs, his body deflating. Yoongi takes offense and hangs up. Or maybe he was going to hang up either way.

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his penis, but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung.

“I was busy sucking his dick, asshole.” He spits, but Jimin only snorts in answer.

“Good luck finding the owner of Mystery Penis.” He quips back, before hanging up as well.

All hope is lost. Never in his life has he despised his face blindness as much as he does right now. Of course, it’s never been easy dealing with it throughout his life. He’s lucky he has two solid friends he can count on. Although Jimin regularly dyes and changes his hairstyle without warning to mess with him. And Yoongi basically has two hours of availability per week, usually arranged around his sleeping schedule.

But he knows they care for him, and he cares for them.

He drags his feet to class. He uses ‘class’ lightly; being a third-year means most of his courses are spent in the workshop, working on his graduate exhibition.

He’s got his trusty overalls on, covered in clay stains. He’s been working with clay for the last few weeks, using the medium for two of his exhibition pieces.

He greets his teacher at the front desk with a nod, before making his way to his desk. Today’s playlist consists of oldies, and he makes it to his desk just as Lionel Richie’s voice fills the room.

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

Hello is a classic of sculpting classes. No matter the teacher or the Instructor, they all love to play that song on repeat, and he usually doesn’t pay it any mind. But right now, isn’t there a more perfect song to taunt him?

Lionel Richie asks if it’s him he’s looking for, as he’s pulling his tool out of his bag. He unwraps the plastic wrap from around the latest project he’s been working on, already planning his next move.

He’s pretty sure the sculpting world is all over that song only because of the music video.

It’s obvious that the whole ‘blind girl sculpting’ thing–

Oh.

Oh dear god. The music video.

The music video.

Taehyung has an idea.

His hands move before he can fully realize the plan in his head, rewrapping his project, and getting some new clay from the front of the class.

His teacher looks him up and down in all his frantic and excited glory.

“A sudden stroke of inspiration?” He questions, sounding curious.

“Something like that.” Taehyung smiles, trying to act inconspicuous. His teacher won’t let him take the clay if it’s not for his graduate exhibition.

He makes it back to his station without any more inquiry and starts to work right away.

Jimin was right, he does know every nook and cranny of that penis. He spent hours getting acquainted with it, and he has an excellent memory (Except for faces, obviously).

All the other students are too busy working on their final projects to notice the massive penis under construction a few feet from them. If anyone asks, Taehyung will proudly answer that it’s a life-sized depiction. But no one is asking, so he simply works on bringing the piece to life. The students in his class rarely talk to him, since he hasn’t gone out of his way to develop any type of relationship with them. It’s easier like that.

Once he’s done, many hours later, he’s alone in the workshop with the sun setting outside.

He ogles proudly at his masterpiece, the erect penis standing tall on his station, truly a creature of beauty. It’s a perfect replica, down to the ballsack wrinkles; down to the cute mole at the hilt. Of course, it’s clay-colored, and it probably won't change since Taehyung hates painting his creations, but he’s absolutely certain that everything else is exactly like the original.

The oven has been preheating for a while, so it’s hot and ready to bake some penis. The only thing left is to leave it to cure for a while. Any ol’ regular penis would have taken less than an hour to cure, but we’re talking about a monster cock here.

He pops it into the oven, sets a timer, just in time for a knock at the door to pull him out of his penis-induced craze.

“Yo, Tae,” Yoongi’s voice resonates from the door frame.

Taehyung grabs a rag from his station to clean his hand with before making his way to his friend. There’s someone with him, and Yoongi signals at his friend with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Remember Namjoon?” He asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. Jimin and Yoongi have taken to the habit of identifying the people they’re with, so Taehyung doesn't have to embarrass himself trying to figure it out on his own. That way, they don’t have to explain his condition to every single person that isn’t in his immediate friend circle.

(Is it even a circle if it’s two people?)

He sends a nod in Namjoon’s way and gets a wave back, and that’s as far as their exchange goes, as usual. Except today, his whole body language reads nervous and tense. But that’s none of Taehyung’s business.

“We’re going to see some juniors perform in a pub, you want to come with?” Yoongi asks him, and Taehyung knows he means well, but he also knows that Yoongi knows he doesn’t like crowded spaces.

He and Jimin have tried to get him to go out more, but the only time Taehyung steps foot inside any type of alcohol selling establishment is when he wants to get laid. And there’s only one place he goes to then; that crappy little Bar near campus that’s only frequented by broke students who also want to get laid.

He doesn’t like anywhere that’s dark where there’s enough people to make him lose sight of his friends. Something about losing his parents at the mall one too many times.

“That sounds nice, but I have to finish this piece I’m working on.” He answers, trying to sound as regretful as he can. It doesn’t really work, judging by Yoongi’s unconvinced humming.

“Alright, careful when you go back home.” Yoongi finally answers, patting him on the shoulder.

He starts walking away, but his friend, Namjoon, stays frozen on the spot, facing him. He’s looking at Taehyung in some kind of way, but face blindness makes it hard for him to read other’s expressions. He raises a single eyebrow in interrogation, and that seems to make Namjoon snap out of it. He turns on his heel without as much as a goodbye, which, rude .

“'Kay, bye.” He mutters after him.

But he can’t hold it against him. He knows that ‘Namjoon’ has been a long-time friend of Yoongi and that they’ve spent some time together by association. Taehyung doesn’t go out of his way to get to know new people, so there’s a high chance Namjoon might have tried to approach him with friendship in mind, only to end up frustrated by Taehyung’s lack of interest. Happens all the time. He can’t really help it, reading intentions is not in his toolbox.

He should probably tell Yoongi to share his ‘secret’ with Namjoon. He seems nice enough from what he heard, so he would probably be understanding. It should at least clear up the misunderstanding, and Taehyung might even gain a new friend, who knows?

He makes his way back to his station, works on his actual project while the oven takes care of making his penis nice and hard.

The next morning, he wakes up to ten texts from Jimin, one from Yoongi, and multiple missed calls and voicemail from his workshop teacher.

Asshole with pink hair:

9:40 am ur crazy

9:40 am CRAZY

9:40 am This is hilarious

9:41 am That’s why i love u

9:41 am That is a beautiful dick

9:41 am Like it was nice on paper, but the 3D version definitely makes me wonder about its owner

10:26 am All the student body is buzzing about the mystery penis

10:27 am It’s on the front page of the school newspaper

10:27 am omg you dumbass u didnt write your number

10:27 am you didn't write your number anywhere brb dying of laughter

Hyungie:

11:32 am You didnt write your infos dumb dumb

Taehyung bangs his head on his pillow, hoping for quick death. How could he forget to write down his infos? How is anyone supposed to contact him?

Namjoon has come to learn quickly that university isn’t always the most sanest place on the planet. Cramming, into a single building, that amount of genius with that amount of insanity is bound to create interesting events.

He’s stopped being surprised by most things, might be guilty of doing some of those surprising things from time to time. But today? Today is on a whole new level.

Somehow, his dick is plastered all over the school, in every hallway, on every door. Think Regina George distributing the burn book copy all over school but, multiplied by 50, that’s how many pictures of his dick are distributed around school right now. Not an actual picture of his actual dick, but an actual picture of an actual clay replica, with big bold yellow letters spelling out 'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?', and nothing else.

It’s vaguely threatening.

He wishes he couldn’t tell that it’s his penis, then maybe he could laugh with the rest of the student body. But there’s no mistaking it. One look and he knew. The person who printed those flyers made sure to include all the possible angles, too.

It’s 100% his dick.

The slight curve is there, the mole is there, everything is there.

The intentions of the maker are unclear, but there’s one thing for sure: he knows exactly who’s behind it. He only knows one sculptor who has seen his penis, and that’s the current bane of his life, Kim Taehyung.

It’s not enough that Taehyung has been completely ignoring his existence before their night of passion together, he’s also been ignoring him after.

And now this? Plastering his dick all over school? For absolutely no reason? Did he not like the night they spent together? Was this a great big ploy to make fun of him? Is this Taehyung’s way to reject him? To tell him to stay away from him? He knows he’s never been really subtle with his crush, but isn’t this going way too far?

At least he had the very, very basic decency to forgo his name from the flyers, or Namjoon might have had to run away to the next town.

Namjoon is not dumb, he knows his ancient Greece lore and what they thought about big dicks.

Taehyung didn’t write this so people would look at the dick, he’s obviously calling him a dick. And for what, pinning on him for the last year? Can’t a man have a crush in peace?

Maybe he shouldn't have approached Taehyung that night.

One thing is for sure, Taehyung is sending him a very clear message to stay away from him.

He spent a fortune printing all those hands out, and now he has to reprint them all? Taehyung knows very well he can’t afford another round of mass printing. Plus the librarian probably won’t ever let him walk into the library again. She had to come and refill the printer at least three times in the hour he was there. The environmental club was even called on scene by one of the students waiting for his turn at the printer. Talk about a snitch.

He can’t afford to reprint everything, and there’s no way he’ll go around school writing his number by hand.

He listens to the voicemails from his teacher then, uncovering a new hurdle.

The first one goes like this:

"Kim Taehyung I know it’s you, you left that thing on your desk."

Then the second:

"Kim Taehyung, you will take down these handouts right this instant before the Dean can see them, you hear me? He'll put you on probation and my head on a stick."

Taehyung muffles his groans into his pillow. Maybe it’s a good thing he forgot to include his number. He should have thought of that before.

He throws on some clothes, heeding his teacher’s warning. He better get to school quickly.

He texts Yoongi and Jimin to take down as many as they can if they want to see him live for another day. Yoongi doesn’t answer and Jimin only texts back asking if he can keep one for his room.

Some friend circle he’s got there.

He makes it onto campus in under half an hour, and gets to work, taking them down as quickly as he can.

He’s got only a few hallways left to do when someone taps him sharply on the shoulder. He spins around, dreading the moment he comes face to face with the Dean. Not that he could recognize the Dean.

“Are you the Dean?” He stammers in a small voice.

“What? No- you. I swear to god. Just tell me if you hate me that much.” Stranger says, before putting his long leg to good use, striding away from him. He throws a bunched-up flyer on the floor before disappearing down the hallway as quickly as he’s appeared.

Taehyung is stunned for a good minutes, utterly confused

The voice sounds similar, but other than that he has no idea who just spit those words at him. He doesn’t hate anyone, and he doesn't see why anyone would believe he has those kinds of ill feelings towards them.

Now that his plan has miserably failed, Taehyung falls into hopelessness once again. He lays in bed, holding his precious sculpture to himself. It’s the only thing he has left from his fateful encounter. Or he thought it was fate, but now he’s wondering if that was life making fun of him.

Jimin is laying by his side, examining the sketch of the body with clear interest. It’s making Taehyung feel a little possessive.

“Maybe you should try again in the school gym, no one gets a body like that from not going to the gym. You could say you’re looking for a model or something.”

Taehyung stares at his friend with all the admiration he can muster.

“I would kiss you so hard right now.”

“We tried that once, remember?”

“Yes, and that’s why I won’t be doing it, but I would, just so you know.”

“Cool.”

He snatches the sketch out of Jimin’s hands to get to work on the shading, trying to get his drawing as realistic looking as possible. Making a whole body out of clay would take too long, so Taehyung will have to settle for his sketch.

Once he’s done, some 30 minutes have passed. He whirl around on his desk chair, waving the sketch around successfully, only to stop dead in his tracks. He finds Jimin with his precious sculpture halfway down his throat.

“Jimin!” He exclaims, fuming. “Get your dirty mouth off my penis!”

Jimin startles and chokes in surprise, but then bursts out laughing once the sculpture is safely out of his mouth.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just really curious about the size. You never cease to amaze me.”

Taehyung snatches his precious phallus back, grabbing some tissues to wipe off Jimin's drool.

“If I can’t find him, this is going up my ass, so don’t touch it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin grimaces, rearranging himself on the bed. He grabs his phone to waste some time, probably ignoring his other responsibilities as the end of their final semester is quickly approaching. “You want to end up in the emergency room? Just use it to make a mold and replicate it with some silicon at least.”

Taehyung raises both eyebrows in astonishment.

“Jimin, your genius never ceases to amaze me.”

He successfully drags Jimin with him to the campus gym. Normally the prospect of hot sweaty people grunting, in various states of undress would attract Jimin like a bee to honey, but since he’s already banged or broken up with half the people that go there, Taehyung has to keep a firm hold on his friend’s wrist.

“Why do I have to come with you again?”

“It was your idea, so you’re taking responsibility.”

“I don’t like taking my responsibilities, they suck,” Jimin grumbles, but he stops trying to run away.

The moment they step into the gym, they’re assaulted by the musky smell of sweat and determination. There’s a high volume of people working out, probably wanting to channel their end-of-semester jitters into iron pumping.

Taehyung spots the front desk, putting his business smile on while reaching into his folder. He hears Jimin greet someone, going off by himself, but Taehyung bears him no mind and heads straight for the Woman working the counter.

“Hi there,” he says, charm on, “ I was wondering if you could help me out,-”

“Yes you can put your flyers up, no you don’t have to pay for it, no we won’t take it down before the end of the semester, yes I do have some tape.” She says without missing a beat, not looking up at him.

“Damn, maybe I’m here because I want to sign up for a membership.”

She finally looks up from her computer, assessing Taehyung from head to toe.

“No you don’t babe. Here’s the tape.” She says, handing him the tape while blowing a bubble with her pink gum. Multitasking at its finest.

Taehyung doesn’t feel like taking her on a debate, so he gets hold of the roll of tape and gets to work, spotting where other people left their flyers so he can put his right by them.

He scans the gym once or twice with a quick look, trying to see if, by a stroke of luck, Mystery Man could be there. No one that is shirtless has the body he’s looking for, and he sadly doesn’t have x-ray vision to check the rest. No amount of wishing as a kid made him grow that ability.

He puts up the first flyer, this time containing all his info, and stares at it proudly. He's got a good feeling about this.

Jimin finds him again as he’s putting up his last flyer, sounding excited about something.

“I had no idea Namjoon worked out. He’s got nice arms hidden beneath those sweatshirts.”

“Namjoon? Yoongi’s friend?”

“Yeah! And he changed his hair color, it looks really good on him. A little lighter than he used to have.”

Taehyung nods along, not really pressed to know more. He’s got other fish to fry.

Namjoon slowly counts to 30 after seeing Taehyung leave the premises, before he basically sprints to the nearest wall, spotting the flyers Taehyung has put up.

There’s a sketch on it, a sketch of a body. A body that looks strangely like his. He frowns, before reading the caption.

“Sculpting student looking for body model. Body must look like this. Call XXX-XXX-XXXX. Food as compensation. ”

Namjoon cannot believe his eyes. Taehyung knows he’s got that exact body type, yet he didn’t ask for his help. If he needed any other confirmation that Taehyung hates him, there’s one right there.

Just what did he do to the man to make him hate him so much?

Since he’s confronted him in the hallway, Taehyung still hasn’t reached out to him. It would be easy to do. He knows Taehyung has his number, they exchanged it when they first met, so nothing is stopping him. Unless he’s happy with the way things are.

Maybe Jimin is not as much of a genius as he thought. By the sixth person that walks in to be a body model, he realizes this is getting expensive in food bribes and studio fees. He has also stopped putting up the pretense of wanting to sketch anyone anymore.

But this time, It’s one Jung Hoseok who walks in.

“Have we slept together before?” He asks right off the bat, tired of wasting his precious time. It’s his new modus operandi; invite them in, ask the burning question, then send them on their way with the promised food to avoid complaints.

“I don’t believe so, but maybe we should fix that,” Hoseok answers, taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Your flyers have a nude body on it, you made me come to a private studio, isn’t this a nude modeling thing?” Hoseok questions, but doesn’t stop undressing. He’s already reaching for his belt.

Something tells Taehyung this man would be really sad to be told to put his clothes back on. The way he’s unapologetically getting naked tells Taehyung everything he needs to know.

“So, why are you asking?” He inquires while posing, everything hanging loose and stuff. “Is that how you get laid? Asking hot dudes to model, then seducing them once they’re naked and vulnerable?”

Jung Hoseok doesn’t seem to be feeling very vulnerable right now, but Taehyung keeps that to himself.

“God no. Jesus that would be sleazy of me.”

“Not as sleazy as asking me if we’ve slept together 5 seconds into our first meeting.” Hoseok points out.

“ Touché. ” He admits, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Hoseok doesn’t press him for an answer, and they spend the next few minutes in silence, the only sound coming from Taehyung's pencil on the thick page of his sketchbook.

Jung Hoseok, standing confidently in front of him in all of his naked glory, has a certain aura around him. The way he holds himself, no hesitation to bare it all, head held high; it's like he never had to hide anything in his life. Like he never knew shame. To the point where it inspires Taehyung to utter the next words:

“I have face blindness.” He starts off, which gets his model’s attention. He keeps his eyes down on his paper to avoid eye contact, feeling rusty when it comes to revealing this part of himself. He continues quickly, “I had a one-night stand with this– perfect greek god. He had the perfect penis, too. Best sex of my life.” He's making good progress on his sketch, Hoseok’s body graceful and easy to put on paper. “I’m trying to find him, but I don’t know anything about him, and I can’t tell people’s faces apart." He chuckles deprecatingly, "The only clue I have is the way his body looks. So I put up this ad for body models hoping he would show up.”

Hoseok breaks his pose to slap his hands together, then pointing at him. “Oh my god, are you the one that plastered the whole school with the penis sculpture a few days ago? Was that your version of a ‘Wanted’ poster?”

Taehyung feels his cheeks warm up.

“Yeah, but I almost lost my diploma over that so let’s not mention it.”

Hoseok laughs with his whole body, clapping his hands together a few more times as if to express his excitement.

“That was the best thing to ever happen on this campus since 1993, thank you for that.”

His statement piques Taehyung's interest.

“What happened in 1993?” He asks, expecting anything but what comes outs of Hoseok's mouth next.

“My mom and dad conceived me in the bathroom of the literature wing.”

Taehyung chortles, surprising even himself with how loud it is.

“Now that’s a conception story worth telling your kids.”

“They didn't tell me; They got caught and got expelled the next day. They framed their expulsion letter, it’s still on display in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s voice is dripping with fondness, betraying his love for his family. “The thing is, I learned how to read at a very early age.”

Taehyung is possessed by another wave of uncontrollable laughter. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes, taking a second to compose himself.

“There, you’re looking a little better now. “

Taehyung looks up at the man, standing there in his birthday suit, going out of his way to cheer him up even though they’re perfect strangers.

(Maybe not so perfect since he’s seen him naked, but still.)

He chuckles again, going back to his sketching.

“Wait does this mean you don’t actually need models right now?”

“Well yeah," Taehyung answers, shrugging his shoulders, "But you looked like you would be really disappointed if I told you to stop undressing, so I just went along with it.”

Hoseok nods his agreement, going back into his original position.

“Good call. Now that we’re here you better get the shading of my calves right. They’re my pride and glory.”

“On it.”

Who would have thought that this whole ordeal would have somehow turned into Taehyung making a new friend.

He looks at the contact number in his phone staring back at him. It’s written 'Jung Hoseok' with a little sun emoji. He’s told him everything he needs to know to avoid misunderstandings, and Hoseok left with the promise to always greet him first when they see each other in the hallway. It’s sad that he only met the man in his last stretch before getting his degree, but as they say: better late than never.

He’s excited to get to know Hoseok, but he doesn’t know if he should text him first. He’s feeling a little socially rusty, having not approached anyone with the intention of being friends in a long, long time. Which is why he jumps with glee when he sees he’s got a text notification from his new friend. But then he reads the text, and the glee morphes into unadulterated excitement.

Jung Hoseok 🌞:

4:56 pm I think i know who your penis belongs to

4:56 pm can you send me a picture? I lost the flyers i kept from that time

4:59 pm You sent a picture

5:01 pm Yeah it’s really similar

5:01 pm Kim Seokjin, XXX-XXX-XXXX, probably currently working the counter at the campus coffee shop.

5:02 pm He’s tall, broad shoulders, awesome dick

Taehyung doesn’t even take the time to text back his thanks; he wraps up his project in a disorderly manner, wiping his hands on his shirt with no care in the world. He throws his backpack on and basically sprint to the coffee shop he usually tends to avoid. The owner is totally an evil capitalist, ripping off students with his overpriced coffee.

He gets there in record time, gasping for air as his poor lungs try to keep up with enough exercise to last him a lifetime.

He’s covered in clay stains, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, clothes in dismay, lungs wheezing, so he should probably expect the next few events that unfold.

He walks into the coffee shop still out of breath, asks if Kim Seokjin is there to the first employee he sees. This is one of those times where he’s happy he can’t read people’s expressions, because he has a feeling he’s being judged very much right now.

“He… just got off his shift.” The man at the counter answers hesitantly.

“Can you tell me where he went?” And what he was wearing?” Taehyung may be sounding a little desperate, but he doesn’t have the time to care.

“He was still in his uniform, so green, and he went that way.” He indicates with a vague wave of the hand.

Taehyung starts running again, this time looking even more crazed as he scans his surroundings like a mad man, looking for someone tall with broad shoulders wearing green.

He spots him after running for a few minutes, thanking the heavens that the employee sent him in the right direction. He had every reason not to.

“Kim Seokjin!” He calls out, picking up his pace despite his lungs begging for a break. “Wait!”

He sees the man stop, take one look at him over his admittedly very large shoulders, then start sprinting away from him.

“No! Wait up!” He pushes himself harder than he ever has, his legs and lungs burning under the continuous strain, head feeling a little faint. “Please!” He calls out again in desperation. “Please look at my penis!”

This catches Seokjin’s attention, and he thankfully stops running, turning around as if to wait for him. Taehyung slows down to a jog, then to a complete stop, bending over gasping for air. Once his breathing is finally somewhat back to normal, he straightens up, only to come face to face with a bottle of pepper spray.

“W-wait!” He stutters, falling on his ass. “I swear I’m not a creep!”

“That’s exactly what a creep would say.” Seokjin answers, hovering over him threateningly, aiming the pepper spray directly at Taehyung’s face.

“I swear I just need you to look at my penis.”

This was the wrong thing to say apparently, because Seokjin gives the bottle a good shake as if to activate it. “That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you seem to think.”

“No! Wait!” He pleads again. “Not my penis.” He takes off his backpack, frantically digging through it until he finally pulls out his sculpture. “ This penis.”

Seokjin doesn’t look totally convinced, but he finally lowers his weapon. “That’s a beautiful cock.” He admits after a moment of staring in silence.

“Thank you. Is it yours?”

"I don't remember owning that sculpture."

"Not the sculpture; the Penis."

Seokjin frowns, extending his hand, and Taehyung gingerly deposits his precious sculpture into his palm. The man finally puts away his pepper spray to free both his hands. He examines the penis under every angle, trying out the hold, measuring the testicles with his palm, staring at it long and hard.

Taehyung takes the opportunity to stand back up, keeping his distance this time.

“It does look very similar,” he concludes, hands going to his chin. “But this is not my penis. I don’t have a mole there.”

Taehyung deflates. He still asks, just in case. “So we haven’t slept together?”

Seokjin gives him back his sculpture with a snort. “You don’t look like anything I've ever slept with.”

Taehyung realizes the state he’s in. He must look ridiculous right now.

“I’m from the sculpting department. I didn’t have the time to clean up. I don’t usually go around looking like I just rolled in the mud.”

“Explains a lot.” Seokjin nods, looking him up and down.

He dusts himself off as best as he can, but he can’t do much more cleaning up than that. He’ll probably have to go back home looking like that.

“So what’s your name?”

Taehyung feels dumb, he didn’t even have the decency to introduce himself before pulling out his penis. His social skills are frankly lacking.

“I’m Kim Taehyung. Sorry about all that, someone told me you could have the original version of this sculpture.”

“I’m flattered. It is pretty similar. Can I ask why you’re going around asking people to look at your– At this penis?”

Taehyung sighs deeply, looking down at the penis in his hand. He did it once, he can do it again.

“Long story short I had an amazing one-night stand with the owner of this beautiful creature, but I have no idea who he is and the only clue I have is my perfect memory of his penis.”

“Sounds like a proper modern-day Cinderella story. But how come you don’t remember his face?” Seokjin questions, a hint of worry in his voice that would make sense in any other situation than Taehyung’s.

“I…. have face blindness, it’s this whole-”

“Ah, Yes, Prosopagnosia, I heard about that in class.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, so this is my only way of finding him.”

“So the Penis Flyers-”

“Yeah, that was also me. Forgot to write down my info, got caught by my teacher, that was a whole mess.” Taehyung admits, feeling discouraged.

“So now you’re basically going around town asking every man to try on the metaphorical glass shoes.”

“Basically.”

“Maybe don’t start off with ‘please look at my penis’ next time?” Seokjin recommends, which makes sense.

“I’ve been told that asking if we’ve slept together first thing is making me sound sleazy.”

“Yeah well, asking people to look at your penis isn’t better.”

“I’ll take good note of that.”

He drags his feet all the way back home.

He sees, pushed in the corner of his room, the material he got to make a mold, and wonders if now is the time to give up.

His exhibition is coming up, this whole thing made him late on his projects, and now he’s certain he’ll never reunite with Mystery Man. Maybe Mystery Man just doesn’t want to be found. Maybe he’s seen all his attempts and has simply steered clear, avoiding him all along. Maybe it’s time for Taehyung to make himself a silicon version and move on. He’s exhausted all his options, he’s out of time, and out of ideas.

He’s reading through the molding instruction, glad that this should be easy since he’s using a sculpture and not an actual living and breathing dick, when he realizes he hasn’t exhausted all his options. There’s still hope.

He jumps in the shower, picks out an outfit befitting of his destination, and goes off with hope in his heart.

The Bar isn't too busy, this being the middle of a school week, but there’s still some people going about, sharing drinks and being loud, in total denial of the oncoming train that is the end of a semester

Taehyung spots the barman, beeline for him.

“Hey, do you know who usually works on Sundays?”

“That would be me.” Mr.Barman says, convincing Taehyung he finally has luck on his side.

Mr.Barman is on the tall side, with nice tattooed arms and wavy over-bleached hair tucked behind his ears. He’s making his forearm bulge seductively by polishing some beer glasses, and if Taehyung wasn’t on a mission to find his possible Mr.Perfect, he would be actively trying to get into his pants.

“Do you, by any chance, recognize me?”

Mr.Barman doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re a regular. And you gave me a blowjob once. Why are you asking?”

Well, Taehyung might have many flaws but at least he’s consistent.

“I was wondering if you remembered seeing me a few weeks ago– I was with a dude, about this height, with this body,” he adds, pulling out the sketch. He looks a little crazed, once again. But it’s ok, he’s reaching for straws here. “He had dark hair, but that’s all I can tell you. See, I have face-”

“-Blindness, I know, you cry about it every time you get drunk.”

Hm. And Taehyung thought he was a character full of mystery.

“I do know who you’re talking about. He’s a regular too.”

The irritation Taehyung feels is only momentary, everything melting away with this new bit of information. Someone saw them, someone knows what his Mystery Man looks like. He didn't hallucinate the whole thing.

“Do you know his name??” He asks, pleading with his eyes. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest, desperation tangible.

“No. And he hasn’t been here since that night.” He says, crushing every hope and dream Taehyung mustered up in the last five seconds. He pauses his polishing, head tilting to the side. “But I do remember his face. I can try and draw him if you want.”

10 minutes later, Taehyung is looking at his disability in the face.

“Wow, you did it. You perfectly illustrated how people with face blindness see others.” Taehyung says, looking down at the drawing Jungkook (he asked for his name) quickly scribbled on a piece of napkin. It looks exactly like how he sees others.

Jungkook being good-natured, only laugh it off. “I can’t do much here, I’m working. But if you give me your number, I can try and do a better sketch once I get home. I’m from the painting department.”

“You would do that for me?” Taehyung asks, feeling deeply moved by Jungkook’s kindness.

“Sure, it’s good practice for my portrait class anyways. You can take this as a thank you for the blow job.”

Taehyung nods to himself.

“I do give amazing blowjobs.”

Jungkook, like any good art student, does not appreciate being rushed.

After a whole week of being told “it’s not ready yet”, Taehyung stops asking.

He also wakes up one morning and realizes he only has a few days left before his exhibition.

Not only is he not done with all his pieces, he still hasn’t started studying for his finales which happen to be the week before his exhibition, meaning, the next day.

He pushes aside any thought of Mystery Man (except when he hugs the sculpture at night, heart yearning for the original), and jumps straight into his cramming strategy, which consists of hitting himself with the books until he’s absorbed the material. If he’s not studying, taking a finale, or sleeping, he’s huddled in the workshop with the other students of his department, functioning on coffee and eating various shades of sculpting material for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is not what Taehyung expected when he was told that artists live from their arts.

The day before his exhibition, he’s barely feeling human, he’s got dried clay in places clay should never find itself, he doesn’t know words anymore and he has basically forgotten his own name.

No matter how fast he works, he realizes he won’t be able to finish his last pieces in time. He’s wracking his brain for a solution, thinking long and hard about just what he could do, when it hits him.

The solution is right underneath his nose;

His penis. It was always his penis.

He’s supposed to expose pieces that he finds impactful, and if there’s anything that had a big impact on his life in the last few weeks, it’s his sculpture.

He can’t tell his teacher, he’ll categorically refuse. Not after the stunt he pulled with the flyers. Plus he wouldn't understand the cultural reset it was for Taehyung, finding and crafting that beautiful creature.

So he sets to work in secret. It shouldn’t be too hard, he hasn’t printed his labels yet. Plus the students are in charge of installing their own corner, meaning he can wait until the very last moment before the opening to put his penis on display.

He needs to find a name for his sculpture, so he texts his friends for help, but as usual, they are unhelpful.

Asshole with pink hair:

6:45 pm ‘ Suck on that’

Hyungie:

6:45 pm why are you asking me idk

Jung Hoseok 🌞 :

6:50 pm “ Long lost lover”

He’s glad to see that his new friend will fit right in once he introduces him to everyone.

He isn’t satisfied with the answer he gets, so he sends more text.

Kim Seokjin:

7:05 pm “Is this your penis?”

7:06 pm Or better yet, “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?”

7:06 pm that way people will understand how current your art is

7:10 pm Also I didn’t give you this number to chitchat

7:10 pm after we find out his identity im cutting all ties with you

7:11 pm Im just feeling invested right now

7:11 pm that’s all

7:17 pm Where’s your exhibition again?

Jeon Jungkook barman and artist:

9:56 pm idk

9:56 pm im almost done with the portrait btw

9:56 pm you mind if I use it for my exhibition

9:56 pm im really proud of it

So not much more help on that side either.

The next day, Taehyung is busy setting up his corner and feeling emotional over his last exhibition.

He’s done with uni. He can go off into the world and live from his art. Or more like, he’ll first find a side job that’ll suck the life out of him, to pay for his art. Then he’ll spend a few years regretting every decision that led him to be an artist, but just as he’s about to give up, his sculptures will be noticed by a mysterious millionaire that’ll commission him thousands of dollars at first. He’ll refer him to his rich friend who will be all over his art and will throw their money at him.

Yeah, it’s a nice pipe dream.

He makes sure all the labels are in place, the lights are hitting his pieces in all the right way, and that no one notices him putting his penis in the middle of his space 30 seconds before they open the doors.

By the time his teacher notices, it’s already too late; the place flooded with friends, family, and even the occasional art critics that the university invited.

It’s not like his penis feels out of place in his setup. Most of his pieces are on the theme of the human body; studies of movement, skin texture, whatnot. If you look at it as a whole, you almost have a whole body. The only thing missing is a face, which is extremely fitting for Taehyung.

The wave of people coming is not preferable for Taehyung, since he doesn’t like crowded places. He’s never been a fan of their exhibition opening nights over the years. He keeps himself busy by trying his best to merge with the wall while people circle his pieces. His friends know he won’t be able to recognize them in the crowd, so they’ll come to him by themselves, he simply has to make himself visible.

“Hey babe,” Jimin says with mirth in his voice, “Is that greek?”

“Yeah” Taehyung answers, fixing his eyes on his most beloved and central piece.

“I didn’t know you knew greek”

“I don’t, but Google does.”

The Penis is standing directly underneath his own spotlight, looking like a beacon of light, grabbing the envious stares of the people around it.

There’s a little white label by its base:

Kim Taehyung

πέος, 2021

Red Clay

(if you recognize this penis, please ask for the artist)

“ What does it mean?”

“ Penis ”

Jimin hums, crossing his arm over his chest. “I guess I was not expecting anything less.”

Yoongi chooses that moment to appear, whistling his praise.

“So you did work this semester.” He jokes, bobbing his head with approval.

“Har, har.” Like he’s one to talk. He basically spent the last few months becoming one with his bed.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he expects it to be Hoseok or Seokjin telling him they’re here, but instead it’s from Jungkook, and it’s a picture.

A little gasp of surprise escapes him.

His hands shake as he opens up the text app, his heart thumping as the picture loads. He presses on it once it’s ready, taking up the full screen, and Taehyung can finally-... well, Taehyung can’t do anything with that. His case of face blindness is pretty severe, so even drawings are unrecognizable for him. But it’s something! A new clue! He can make a flyer out of this! He can-

“Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?”

Time stops.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in his head, mocking him, but also stealing the carpet right from underneath his feet.

Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?

A portrait of Namjoon

Namjoon

Namjoon, who stood in front of him silently, that day Yoongi invited him out, probably expecting some kind of reaction from Taehyung.

Namjoon who frequents the campus gym.

Namjoon, who’s tall and broad-shouldered.

Namjoon, who’s been around Taehyung for a while but was never told about his condition.

Namjoon, who probably thinks Taheyung has been ignoring him all this time.

“Jesus fucking christ, My Mystery Man Is Kim Namjoon.”

Both his friends voice their confusion as Taehyung tries to rip his hair from his head.

“This penis belongs to Kim Namjoon, who doesn’t know I have face blindness, and who probably think I’ve been ignoring him all this fucking time.”

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says at the same time as Park Jimin, that prick, starts cackling uncontrollably. Taehyung always knew he was evil.

“This is- I’m so sorry but- This shouldn't be funny– But I can’t, it’s too funny.” He wheezes out in between laughter. “He was right there, probably confused as hell as to why you were showing his dick to everyone- I’m sorry this is so funny but also so, so sad. You never- oh my god.”

Under the attention of about half the gallery, he wipes the tears from his eyes, body convulsing with laughter.

“What the fuck are you waiting for.” He finally manages to say, taking a deep breath. “Hyung, didn’t you drag him here tonight?”

That seems to snap Yoongi out of his stupor.

“Fuck, yes he’s here, he’s... There!-” He says pointing somewhere, but then his voice dies down. “And now he’s leaving...”

Taehyung spots the man with a black cap currently walking out the exit with an angry stride. He reacts on instinct, running after his Not So Mysterious Man Anymore.

Kim Namjoon is having a very no good, very bad day.

Not because of school, no. He aced all his finales, he doesn’t even need to get his grades back to know.

Not because of the weather either. No, it’s a beautiful spring day, and there’s a hint of cherry blossom in the air, wrapping the world in a romantic tint.

No, the reason he’s having a very no good very bad day, is because he can’t, for the love of God, get Kim Taehyung out of his head.

It started with a very interesting dream, clearly drawing inspiration from the night they spent together. It woke him up at the crack of dawn, sweating up bullets and hard as a rock. Finding sleep afterward was nearly impossible, meaning his first precious day of vacation started way too fucking early.

Now music theory never sleeps, so he simply spent his morning trying to forget his dream, channeling all his energy on composing.

But then Min Yoongi, long-time friend and co-compositor, had to go and ruin his fragile peace of mind by reminding him he had two tickets for the sculpting department exhibition, and Namjoon was obligated to show up. Meaning he would inevitably run into Kim Taehyung; Meaning he would agonize about him all day; Meaning , that he would be thinking about Kim Fucking Taehyung all day.

But it’s ok, because he was finally starting to come to terms with that too. Taehyung would probably ignore him again, and all he needed to do was circle the gallery once and get the fuck out.

But no.

Oh no.

Life had better plans.

Because right into the center of Taehyung's exhibition space, is his very own penis, standing proudly, mocking him.

He can recognize it from the flyers, so he knows instantly that it’s Taehyung’s work.

He’s stunned by the audacity, wondering once again what he did to draw Taehyung’s ire upon himself. The flyers were not enough, no he had to go and put it on display as his final fuck you to Namjoon. Even wrote 'penis' in greek as a title, confirming Namjoon's theory that this is all a ploy to make fun of him.

Namjoon has had enough, he’s getting the fuck out of there.

He spins on his heel at the speed of light, taking advantage of every inch of his long legs to walk out as fast as possible. He ignores the call of his name that follows after him, readjusting the cap on his head.

He’s fuming, feeling tears of frustration building up. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s been nothing but respectful of Taehyung. He’s been staying away from him too.

He doesn’t deserve this.

He makes it a few blocks before his phone starts going off every 5 seconds with incoming texts, forcing him to finally look at it.

Yoongi Hyung:

6:14 pm Before anything, know that Taehyung suffers from severe face blindness.

6:14 pm I know you know what that means you wikipedia rat

6:15 pm I didn’t tell you cause it’s none of my business who he chooses to tell

6:15 pm But the dumbass has been trying to find you for weeks using your dick because he had no other way to identify you

6:15 pm Your pinning hasn't been exactly subtle either

6:16 pm he ran after you when you left but I bet he’s pleading with the wrong person in the street right now

6:17 pm Nice dick by the way

He rereads the series of text to try and make sense of them. Only after the third read, does he finally understand.

Well, shit.

“Please Namjoon listen to me, you have to listen to me, I didn't mean to ignore you, I just didn't know it was you!-” Taehyung pleads, holding on to his sleeve.

“Can you please let go of me?!”

His voice sounds a little older than what Taehyung remembers, but he doesn’t have the time to think too much about that. Maybe he’s got a cold or something.

“-I can explain everything if you can just give me two minutes-”

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not this kind of person.”

Taehyung isn’t deterred, holding on to him desperately “-Please I swear just two- no, one minute, even one minute is enough-”

Someone clears their throat, tapping him softly on the shoulder.

“Sorry sir, I believe my friend here is mistaking you for me.”

Now that’s a familiar voice. A voice he recognizes from many occasions.

Taehyung lets go of his poor unsuspecting victim, taking a step back which is all it takes for them to run away from him.

He finally comes face to face with the source of all his past weeks' torment.

The height is there, the shoulders are there, the body proportions are there, the hair color is completely different, but Jimin did mention he changed it recently. He’s got the black cap on, the one that made Taehyung mistake a perfect stranger on the street for him.

It’s him. He found him. It’s his Mystery Man, his cinderella. He’s got him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He confirms, voice gentle.

“Kim Namjoon.” He repeats, trying the name out on his tongue. His body is filling up with butterflies, and he can’t feel his toes.

“And here I thought you just could never remember my name.”

“I can explain–” He rushes, eager to get rid of the misunderstanding.

“It’s ok, Yoongi told me.”

“And about your penis–”

“Yes, Yoongi told me about that too.” Namjoon cuts him off, the tip of his ears getting pink.

“I’m so sorry– I should have asked your name then. I mean– you made me come four times .”

Namjoon chuckles, catching one of Taehyung’s hands mid flail and holding it with both of his, making his heart jump.

“We’ve basically known each other for years, so maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. I don’t think I would have appreciated it then.”

“I guess that’s true. I’m still sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, I could have come up to you first. I mean, I’m the one who sneaked out in the morning. I had an 8 am class, by the way. I didn’t leave because I wanted to. But you have my number so… I assumed you would call me. ”

“I have your number...?” It's pretty vague, but it does ring a bell. He's got a blurry memory of time, around their first meeting, when Namjoon and he had exchanged their numbers for Yoongi related reasons. “That’s right, I do have your number. Fuck.”

“Well, I know now this wouldn’t have changed anything for you, since you simply didn't know it was me you were with.” Namjoon snorts, but not unkindly. More at the situation.

But Taehyung still feels terrible.

“I’m so sorry.” He whines, feeling like burying his face in Namjoon’s chest. But they’re not there yet. “I tend to keep people at a distance to avoid misunderstandings.”

“It’s ok, I get it now. I guess I wish I knew before, but I get it now.”

“Good. I should have told you sooner. I was actually planning on doing it soon if that’s any consolation.”

“It is.” Namjoon murmurs, inching closer to him.

“Cool, cool cool.” Taehyung blurts out nervously.

This is it. This is his chance. Everything that has transpired in the last few weeks is leading up to this moment.

"So," Namjoon starts when Taehyung has been silent for too long. "Yoongi said you were looking for me... Any particular reasons?"

"Well, yes." He answers but stops. All of this means nothing. It doesn't mean that Namjoon will accept to go out with him. He has no idea how Namjoon feels about him, and he sure as hell cannot tell by his facial expression. He's going in blind, no reason to believe that Namjoon wants to have to do anything with him. For all he knows, Namjoon is only here to settle the misunderstanding, and then be on his way. Maybe he's even mad about the penis flyers.

But then he also remembers that Namjoon is holding his hand right now. It's now or never.

He takes a deep breath for bravery and goes for it.

“Kim Namjoon, can I please take you out on a date?”

Namjoon doesn’t let him second guess himself, word leaving his mouth as fast as a blink.

“Absolutely.”

Apparently, they’ve gathered a crowd because there’s cheerful hooting and shouting erupting around them. But Taehyung pays them no mind as he goes in for a hug, Namjoon meeting him halfway.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon says, suddenly, taking a step back. “I still don’t know why you put my penis on display at the center of your exhibition.”

Taehyung chuckles, bringing Namjoon back in.

“Simple, ‘cause it’s a masterpiece.”

2 months later

There’s a knock at the door, which throws Taehyung off. He’s getting ready for his date with Namjoon– their actual first date– and is not expecting anyone. Jimin knows the code, so it can’t be him, unless–

“Hello sir, would you be open to receiving the words of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ?”

“Jimin, I swear to god, I can tell it’s you by your voice. And no one from church would dress like you do, slut.”

Moving in with Jimin is as much a blessing as it is a curse. A blessing because, well, they’re best friends. A curse because his best friend’s favorite hobby is to try and prank him. Taehyung almost misses the time where Jimin was treating his face blindness as a taboo.

Almost.

The last two months have been a whirlwind of life-changing events for Taehyung.

First, moving in with Jimin is a pretty big deal. Not only has Taehung been living alone for the last three years, living with someone is sometimes a challenge for him. Wondering why a stranger is standing in your kitchen at 3 am, brain slowed down by sleep and the weak lighting not helping, isn’t always a recipe for success. But he’s slowly getting used to it, and Jimin, as much as he can be a prick, is being patient with him.

The second big event is, well, his current job. Somehow his workshop teacher, even after everything, recommended him for a job at a sculpture academy. He now teaches different types of sculpting medium to children, four nights a week. Pretty sweet gig.

At first, he was going crazy out of his mind worrying about working with children, but four weeks in and he’s feeling confident. He sat down with the kids the first week to explain to them what face blindness is, and although the children were initially confused, they now enjoy switching names with each other for the duration of his classes, to mess with his head.

Jokes on them, Taehyung also called their parents during that first week. So far, none of the children have noticed that their parents have been making them wear certain accessories every time they leave for the academy. Checkmates.

And the last big event, of course, is Namjoon.

In between moving, his new job, and Namjoon’s own busy schedule, they have yet to go on an actual full-blown date. But they’ve slowly been getting to know each other. They make time to go on quick coffee dates sometimes, and they text none-stop. Namjoon hasn’t seen his new place yet, but they’ve hung out at Namjoon’s plenty of time.

His boyfriend (he gets giddy thinking about that word) also showed up at the academy a few times to walk him back home (The first time he kept it as a surprise, but he quickly realized Taehyung didn’t like surprises; especially when it means having a tall stranger approach him in the dark without saying anything. Now he texts beforehand.)

“Do you like this outfit? Or should I go with my floral button-up?” He asks Jimin, who’s lounging on his bed after his failed prank attempt.

“Why are you so stressed? It’s not like it's the first time you two see each other.”

“Because the chances of me getting laid tonight are extremely high and I want to look good.”

“Oh?” Jimin perks up, knowing full well Taehyung and Namjoon have been taking their time to get to know each other. “Should I sleepover at Hobi’s tonight?”

Another new development from the last two months: Jimin and Hoseok’s instant attraction. They’ve been dancing around each other since the exhibition, but it looks like it’s finally getting ‘ sleeping-over-at-each-others-place ’ serious.

“...Good idea,” Taehyung answers, not because he wants the house to himself (though it’s a nice perk), but he likes giving a little push to love sometimes.

His friend circle can finally be called a circle now. Somehow, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon just naturally fit into his now actually social, social life. Namjoon was the easiest since he already knew Yoongi and Jimin. Hoseok got it easy by becoming Jimin’s more-than-friend, and Seokjin just showed up one day with a video of that time, outside the gallery, when Taehyung thought an older gentleman was Namjoon because of his black cap.

He looks at the time, curses when he realizes he’s going to be late. He grabs his wallet and puts on his shoes in a rush, and makes it out the door accompanied by Jimin shouting “Don’t you dare fuck on the couch or you’re buying a new one!”

He makes it to the Bar with only a few minutes to spare, and as luck would have it, Jungkook is working. He’s come to recognize his tattooed arm and bleached locks instantly.

Namjoon would have texted him if he was there, which means he’s cutting it close as well, so he sends a quick ‘here 💖’ text before sitting down at the Bar with a big smile.

“You make me want to puke,” Jungkook says, disgust dripping from his words.

“Hey now don’t be jealous, I’m sure you’ll find yourself a monster cock as well one day.”

Somehow, he and Jungkook started texting on a semi-regular basis. It’s mostly Jungkook begging Taehyung to introduce him to Seokjin (apparently he’s been crushing on the man since he first saw him at the coffee shop), which Taehyung has to find excuses every time to avoid telling Jungkook the cold, harsh truth.

(“I don’t date men with bleached hair, it ruins my whole aesthetic.” Jin said after the first time Taehyung asked. Which aesthetic he’s talking about, Taehyung has no idea.)

But that also means that Jungkook has heard all about his very fascinating and blooming love story with Namjoon.

“Did you tell Seokjin I said hi?”

“Dude, just go and ask him out. You know where he works, you know where he studies, you even know his birthday, which is really creepy when you two have never talked by the way. Just, go ask him out, he won’t be able to resist you once he actually sees how attractive you are.” He pauses for a second, then adds for safety measure, “But if he reaches in his pocket, just run the other way.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask, just trust me.” Taehyung has some unpleasant flashbacks of a bottle of pepper spray being waved in front of his face. He shakes his head to try and get rid of the memory.

“And how would you even know that I’m attractive, you don’t actually know what I look like.” Jungkook retorts.

“Shut up, just go and ask him.”

“Just go and ask him what?” A familiar voice asks from behind him, and Taehyung's smile is back full force. He rotates on his chair and jumps into Namjoon’s arms, hearing him groan under the strain of his weight. He can hear Jungkook fake gagging behind him, the actual child.

They share a quick kiss before they both sit down at the bar.

“You’re not seriously thinking about having your date here, are you?”

Taehyung snorts, tempted to mess with Jungkook, but Namjoon is the one to answer.

“No we just wanted to get the evening started with a nice drink, but we have a reservation to an actual fancy restaurant, paid graciously by Taehyung's actual serious adult job.”

“Is it a serious adult job if he had to stop a kid from eating his donut-shaped clay yesterday?”

“Shut up. If you keep being like that I’m going to order the most annoying thing on the menu.”

Jungkook scoffs and walks away, without actually taking their orders.

They both watch him do a big show of ignoring them, answering other customers without turning in their direction.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Namjoon whispers in his ear. “We can go waste time walking around aimlessly, hand in hand.”

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Taehyung mutters, but he actually loves it.

His dating experience before Namjoon amounts to an enormous zero, but it’s not because he’s one of those unattainable, i-don’t-believe-in-love types of people that live rent-free in Hollywood movies. He simply never thought it would be possible to get close to someone romantically with his condition. But since officially meeting Namjoon, he’s been researching, and turns out, he totally can.

There are even people, artists like him, who've noticed that repeatedly drawing or painting their loved one has made them actually able to remember their face (not 100% of the time, but he’ll take what he can get.). So he’s been sketching, using pictures, trying out different angles. He’s planning on using clay at one point. He’s totally the girl from Lionel Richie’s music video. Which makes Namjoon Lionel Richie.

“Did you know that I was inspired by Lionel Richie’s music video to sculpt your penis?”

Namjoon chuckles under his breath, squeezing Taehyung’s hand just a little bit more. The hot summer air is making their palms sweaty, but they both don’t care.

“Where is that thing, by the way? It’s been a while since I’ve last seen it.”

“I put it on my bedside table when I moved in and I haven't moved it since. I’m thinking about making it into a lamp. I have to keep it out of reach of Jimin and Hoseok, they both seem a little too interested.”

Namjoon grimaces. Or Taehyung is assuming that’s his grimacing face.

“Please never let it fall into their hands.”

“I swear on my honor, I shall protect your penis.”

“Thank you, I feel better now. I still can’t believe they put it on the first page of ‘Sculpting Now’. Crazy how all of your friends and the sculpting world know what my dick looks like.

“It’s a masterpiece. If it was mine I would never keep it in my pants, I’d always want to show it off.”

“How are you not in prison right now?”

“I don’t have your dick in my pants, sadly. Did you know that Seokjin almost pepper-sprayed me the first time we met? In retrospect, having a stranger run after you, pleading for you to look at their dick is a good excuse to pull out your pepper spray.”

“Wait, you did what?”

“It was all in the name of love.”

Namjoon shakes his head, probably disappointed in him.

Namjoon is utterly enamored. Every time Taehyung recalls a story from when he ran around school trying to find him, he falls a little bit more in love.

He was so nervous for their first romantic date that he couldn’t eat during the day, but Taehyung is making him feel at ease, as he usually does, so hunger is coming back with a vengeance.

“Should we go to the restaurant now?” He asks, pulling Taehyung along with him. "It's almost time."

“Let’s.” Taehyung agrees readily, “I’m ravenous.”

They quickly make their way to the restaurant, only to find its door closed. There’s a sign in the window reading “Closed for vermin infestation”.

“Oh.” Namjoon says, “Dammit. That’s not good.”

There’s this awkward silence, filled with growling sounds from both their bellies. It’s too late to make reservations anywhere nice, and anywhere else risks being too loud for a romantic Rendez-Vous. Namjoon is scrambling his brain for a solution when Taehyung’s shy voice interrupts.

“Hum, if you want to– Jimin told me he wouldn't be home tonight, so… You want to come over? We can pick up some ramen on the way.”

Taehyung’s face might be neutral, but the blush growing on his cheeks is anything but. Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight that he makes, burning up in embarrassment. Without the blushing, Namjoon would have believed he’s only inviting him for ramen, but the angry red of his cheeks is definitely betraying Taehyung’s intentions.

He nods his agreement, feeling anticipation replace hunger in the pit of his stomach.

Having Namjoon in his space is a new experience.

The apartment is still messy from their move, boxes lying around, but they’ve managed to make it quite homey. Everything that is necessary to their everyday life has been unboxed, only the odd objects being ignored by Jimin and him.

He puts on some soft music to set a nice mood, and Namjoon is humming along straight away, which is all the approval he needs to feel confident about his music selection. Music Theory graduate approved.

He gets to work on the ramen while he directs Namjoon on where to find a cheap bottle of wine and some wine glasses. He sets the table, trying to make it as nice as possible, but it’s really just a pot of bubbling ramen and two bowls with some chopsticks.

They eat in comfortable silence, the music playing in the background mixing with the sound of their eating.

But then Namjoon dumps the content of his wine glass on his tan-colored pants, and it’s downhill from there.

“Damn it!” He curses, jumping to his feet. He grabs some napkins to try and pat some wine off, but it’s already been absorbed by his fancy suit pants.

“Quick, take them off,” Taehyung says, not thinking too hard and only reacting to the situation at hand. “Let’s rinse them in the sink.”

Namjoon complies, taking them off in record time, passing them on to Taehyung like it’s a relay race.

Taehyung deposits them straight in the sink, opening the tap and letting the water hopefully get rid of most of the stain. They both stand there for a minute, staring at the water filling up.

But then it hits Taehyung that Namjoon’s thighs are currently bare and in his vicinity. He sneaks a quick peek to satisfy his horny brain, but he’s quick to snap his eyes back to the sink to avoid doing anything stupid.

Like, let’s say , dropping to his knees.

He can feel himself blushing, his cheeks, ears, and neck feeling hot. He knew exactly what he was doing, inviting Namjoon for some ramen, but now that he can act on it, he’s suddenly feeling very shy.

Plus, not being able to read facial expressions never really impaired his ability to get laid. He used to just– go to the bar, wait until someone would offer him to get out of there, and go for it.

But this is not a bar, and Namjoon won’t ask him if he wants to get out of there. He has no idea how to tell if Namjoon wants to jump into bed with him. Or not.

He takes matters into his own hands.

“So, as you know,” He starts, staring intently at the water flowing out of the tap, “this whole face blindness thing– I can’t really read your facial expressions. So in the future, it’ll be hard for me to figure out if you’re angry or happy, or sad, or… or horny. I’ve never done this whole– Romantic relationship thing, but I’m guessing we’re going to have to be really vocal with how we’re feeling, what we want, whatnot.”

He lets his statements hang in the air, staring at the stain that doesn’t seem to want to go away. He’s thinking maybe this will have to be removed professionally.

But then, Namjoon chooses that moment to drop a soft kiss on his nape.

“Are you asking me, right now, if I want you?”

Taehyung turns around, letting himself be cornered against the counter. Namjoon has his nicely defined biceps, somehow peeking through his suit vest, on each side of him. He absolutely loves it.

“Yes. I am.”

Namjoon kisses his neck once again, and Taehyung is this close to losing it.

“I absolutely want you.” His boyfriend finally answers, landing a heavy kiss on his lips, sucking all the air out of Taehyung’s lungs.

After turning Taehyung’s inside to mush via lips on lips crime, he returns to his assault on Taehyung’s neck, peppering the skin he can reach with sweet kisses, each one sending electricity straight to his groin.

“Do you want me?” Namjoon questions softly into his ear, making Taehyung's eyes roll back so far he’s scared they’ll never come back.

“Fuck yes.” He grinds out, voice turning to a whine when Namjoon, emboldened by Taehyung’s enthusiasm, rocks his pelvis into his in a languid motion.

He sees white then, bringing Namjoon’s mouth back to his, smashing their mouths together in a wet and messy kiss.

“How important are your pants?” He inquires in between kisses, enjoying the slow grinding Namjoon has going on. He’s still in his suit pants, but Namjoon only has the thin cotton of his boxer brief as a barrier. Taehyung can clearly feel his monster cock waking up from its slumber.

“Not very important.” He finally answers, hands letting go of the counter to firmly grab at Taehyung’s ass.

Taehyung can proudly say he’s got a fat ass, and Namjoon seems to appreciate it if the growl that escapes him is anything to go by.

He gets to work on the buttons of Namjoon’s dress shirt, Namjoon getting the message and taking his vest off by himself. Soon he’s standing there in only his boxer briefs and socks, while Taehyung is still fully dressed.

It’s kind of hot.

They slow it down a little, Taehyung pushing Namjoon away so he can take a good look at him.

The light of the kitchen falls almost gracefully over Namjoon’s defined chest, creating shadows that chisel out his muscles even more. It’s a sight to behold.

He drags his hands down Namjoon's body, teasing a nipple as he goes with a flick of the thumb, mapping out his taut stomach with the tip of his finger, then coming back up to hold onto his strong shoulders.

“You know, I’m like, really good at massages. I feel like this is something you should know.”

Seems like this is all the time Namjoon will allow him away from him. He reels him back in with an arm around his waist, the other taking hold of one of Taehyung’s hands and bringing it to his mouth. He nips at his fingers, maintaining eye contact while he uses his tongue to soothe the sting.

How he’s even real is beyond Taehyung.

“Do you need help undressing?” Namjoon teases, reaching for his belt.

“Let me close the tap and we can move this to my room.”

Namjoon doesn’t give him a response, only cages him once again against the counter, plastering the full length of his warm body to his. He reaches behind Taehyung and moments later, the soft ambiance music is the only thing they can hear again.

Taehyung leads him to his bedroom, taking off his vest as they go. Somehow Namjoon already got his belt buckle, so he unceremoniously drops his pants to the floor, then jumps on his bed.

“Welcome to my room. That’s my desk, that’s my bedside table, that’s a replica of your penis, but I heard the original is planning on making an appearance tonight. This is my bed. Hope you enjoyed the tour.” He finally gets to the final button, looking up eagerly as he sends his shirt off to the side, wondering what’s taking Namjoon so long to get on the goddamn bed.

He finds his lover completely captivated by his penis duplicate.

“You’ve got the same one in your pants, you know. Get you your ass over here.”

“Sorry I was just thinking… it’s crazy how similar you made it only from your memory.”

“Excuse me?” Taehyung objects, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re not just similar, they’re identical.”

“Only one way to check, is there?” Namjoon taunts, before finally, finally getting rid of his briefs, releasing the Kraken.

Except he also grabs hold of the sculpture, bringing it close so he can do a side-by-side comparison.

“You’re right, it is identical. How did you even manage that?” He says, awe in his voice. “Have you ever used it on yours–”

Namjoon loses his train of thought as he takes in the sight of Taehyung, laying in bed completely naked, pumping himself at a leisurely pace and looking very unimpressed.

“No, I haven’t. But if you don’t get into bed in the next 5 seconds I just might consider it.”

Namjoon doesn’t have to be told twice.

#bangtanidx #bangtanarmynet #houseofddaeng #mikrogalaxynet #boymeetsmxm #bangtanxm #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #min yoongi #kim seokjin #park jimin #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #bts fic #taejoon #taejoon fic #taehyung x namjoon #v #rm

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andrei-svech · 4 years ago

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what christmas means to me || f. andersen

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Some very slight language, tooth-rotting fluff and babies if you’re not into that.

Summary: It’s your fifth Christmas with your husband Freddie, but your first with your baby girl.

a/n: Here’s some fun christmas fluff with human fridge Freddie Andersen that no one asked for! It’s VERY fluffy but was so much fun for me to write so I hope you all love it. BIG thank you to @woah-were-halfway-there for all her encouragement and for screaming at me to finish it (and there’s a little tie in to her AFTR series in there) you’re the best, friend. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy reading!

This had always been your favorite time of year, the air in Herning crisp and biting but the fresh snow crunching under your boots putting a smile on your face. You had nothing but fond memories of Christmas. Most of your childhood you’d spent them with your mother’s extended family in Toronto, eating your grandmother’s homemade cinnamon rolls and opening presents with your cousins as the sun rose behind the house. Though you were in Denmark this Christmas, you still had the fuzzy warmth in your chest as you walked slowly beside your husband and the little girl perched in his arms. It was your fifth holiday with Freddie but your first with your daughter, whose wide eyes darted around the backyard with the unbridled curiosity of a child who was finally aware enough to take in her first snow. Your first Christmas with Freddie had been very early on in your relationship. You’d met him only a few months before, at a team barbecue hosted by the Hymans. Alannah had become one of your closest friends as the two of you navigated law school together, and you and Zach developed a friendly relationship as a result. As much time as you spent with the two of them, the first time you met his teammates didn’t come until about a year later. Alannah invited you one night over drinks and though you were a bit nervous going into a situation where you knew no one but her, you accepted the invitation and found yourself in their backyard nursing a red solo cup and being introduced to a whole mob of Maple Leafs and their significant others. After making the rounds you’d gone inside to fix another drink and found a large redhead in their kitchen. The moment his soft smile was directed back at you, you knew you were a goner. The two of you had spent almost the entirety of the barbecue chatting in that kitchen, and you left with his phone number and the promise of a date. You hadn’t looked back since. The second Christmas the two of you spent together, you decided to host both of your families at your shared home in Toronto. Your newly received engagement ring sparkled under the tree lights as the two sides finally met for the first time, excitement building for your future to come. Christmas number three you were in Herning, three months married and finding the time to travel overseas as Freddie recovered from shoulder surgery, indefinitely placed on injured reserve. You spent Christmas number four alone back in Ontario with Freddie’s hand constantly rubbing soft circles on your swollen belly as you watch holiday classics on TV. Your baby girl made her entrance two months later, wailing loudly but still managing to immediately capture both your heart and your husbands. You silently cursed yourself for not changing into something warmer as the thin leggings tucked into your boots weren’t really helping the shivers running through your body, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go back inside. Not when your daughter stuck her tiny hand out and giggled at the feeling of the wet snow. You’d been excited to experience this with her since she was still an idea in your head. Of course you’d had snow back in Ontario, but this was the first time she really seemed to be understanding what she was seeing and feeling. The white blanket on the ground and the small flurries fascinated her as she gazed around the backyard in complete wonder. You quietly pulled your phone from your pocket as you continued through the cold further into your yard. The time read 4:04 PM, and though you knew it was only around ten in the morning in Scottsdale, you pulled up the familiar contact and hit the FaceTime button, the ringing filling your ears but not capturing the attention of Freddie or your girl. You rolled your eyes as it connected and what your husband called the world’s most terrible mustache filled your screen, but you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your own face as one of your favorite people appeared. “Hey y/n, how’s Scandinavia treating you?” he greeted, lounging on his sofa still in pajamas with a cup of coffee sat on the side table in the background. “Hi friend, always a good time in Denmark. ‘S it hot over there in good old AZ?” The two of you made small talk for the next few minutes before you heard your husband’s loud footsteps in the snow, looking up to find them walking back toward you, Fred’s smile soft in contrast to the giggles still coming from the infant he carried. Auston noticed your gaze lift from him to above the camera and he spoke again “Is that my girl? Where’s my girl, huh?” You didn’t think your daughter’s face could light up any further than it already had but sure enough it did as she heard his voice. “Look baby, say hi to Uncle Aus!” You handed the phone to Fred and he held it for a few minutes as he allowed the two of them to talk, Auston asking your daughter what she’d gotten for Christmas and telling her about his own family’s morning as she babbled back to him. You lost focus on the conversation in favor of watching the snow as it began to fall harder onto the ground below you. It had been steadily picking up speed since you’d started watching it from the bedroom window that morning, and you knew with the chill you’d have to take her inside soon. You tuned back in as you heard the conversation coming to an end, Freddie and Auston saying their goodbyes. “Bye Aus, say hi to Cars and the kids for me! Tell them we love them!” “Bye y/n, we love you too!” The call clicked off and when Fred handed the phone back you flipped over to your camera, moving to video mode to capture the moment of your daughter’s first real experience with snow. Fred gasped and directed her to look at the camera, waving and encouraging her to do the same. “Say hi mumma! Hi mumma!” “Hi baby!” you cooed at her as she flailed her arm in her best attempt at a wave, giggling as she batted more of the snow falling against her little fist. “Are you having fun baby girl? Do you love the snow? Daddy’s having so much fun too, look!” He smiled down at his girl, nodding enthusiastically along as she babbled aimlessly, gesturing to the environment around her. You stopped the video and made sure it saved to the camera roll, knowing it was a memory you’d cherish for years to come. “Okay family, I think it’s time to go inside, it’s getting a little chilly for us out here.” Your baby’s face dropped a bit but she remained silent and continued to mumble unintelligibly to herself as the three of you made your way back toward the house. You sighed at the warmth of your home as you made your way from the backdoor into the kitchen, shedding your coat before turning to help Fred pull the many layers off of your daughter. Her hat came first, then coat, then boots and sweater until she was down to just her Christmas pajamas. You’d thought they were adorable when you picked them out but even more so when you’d put them on her and so you and Fred had decided to just keep her in them for the day, knowing you weren’t planning to leave your home. The rest of the night passed rather uneventfully, the three of you spending the evening parked right where you’d expected, on the couch with hot chocolate watching Miracle on 34th Street and White Christmas before putting the baby to bed at the usual time. It had been a bit harder than usual to get her down but finally, after the excitement of the day, she fell into a fairly deep sleep in her crib. Once she had finally fallen asleep you made your way back to your husband in the living room, flopping ungracefully down next to him on the sofa, sighing deeply and resting against his very large frame. He chuckled to himself as you settled yourselves into a comfortable position, enjoying the silence of the moment together, his breathing quiet and the TV on low in the background. The Christmas tree in the corner provided the only source of light aside from whatever movie was playing, each of the ornaments telling its own story of a memory special to your little family. “Do you remember our second Christmas together, right after we got engaged? When our families met for the first time and our brothers spent the entire day chirping us for how ‘sickeningly in love’ we were?” you broke the quiet of the room and Fred laughed in reply. “Yeah and my mom insisting she help yours in the kitchen, which ended up in the two of them getting drunk together and accidentally burning the rolls.” You both laughed then, remembering your fathers waving dish towels and opening windows to try to stop the beeping of the smoke detector. “Yeah, that one. I think that was the first time I realized how much I was looking forward to having a family of our own. I remember thinking about sitting on the couch with our little girl, giggling with her while we watched you chase our little boy around the room. I wanted that so badly. And now we have it and I don’t think I could be any happier.” It was the truth. From the time you’d begun dating to now, through five years, a marriage and then a baby, your relationship had only strengthened. It wasn’t perfect, no relationship ever was, but it was perfect for you two. You’d grown together through the hard times and laughed together through the good ones and all the while you felt more and more loved by him every day. There wasn’t a sight in the world that filled your heart more than watching Fred with your baby. You had a family, one you’d hoped for since you were a little girl playing house with your sister, and you had created that family with a man who loved you the way you’d always wanted and deserved to be loved. It wasn’t ever lost on you how lucky you were to have him by your side. He let you lose yourself in your thoughts for a minute before a warm hand on your cheek turned your face toward him and you met the eyes you’d fallen madly in love with. “Ik hou van je, schat. I do, I love you. You are the love of my life, and an incredible mother. I wouldn’t ever want to do this, to have a family with anyone else.” He kissed the top of your head and left you with that. Freddie had always been a man of fewer words but you didn’t need them, you felt it in everything he did. It wasn’t about how he told you, but how he showed you. You both sat curled together watching the fire for another moment before you stood, making your way to the tree and pulling a small envelope from behind it. Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you made your way back over to the couch. “Schat, what’s that? I thought we’d finished exchanging all our gifts this morning?” He’d presented you with a beautiful set of diamond earrings to replace the pair you had lost in your move to the new house in Toronto last year, and you had gifted him with a pair of tickets and a room confirmation for a trip to Greece in the coming summer, a destination that had been at the top of both of your bucket lists. This present, though, you’d hidden behind the tree to give to him after your daughter went to sleep, when the time felt right. You handed it to him and shrugged slightly, answering vaguely with a “just another little something, go on, open it.” He opened the envelope and pulled out the card, regarding it carefully until you encouraged him to read the writing on the inside out loud. The card was simple, white with a few red hearts adorning the front, empty on the inside. You’d written the message before you left town last week, working through tears as you did. The tears welled up again as he began to read and you tried willing them away, but it proved to be nearly impossible as you heard them build in his voice as well. “You’ll watch mommy’s belly each day as I grow, and then you’ll count my ten fingers and ten little toes. You’ll hold me when I cry and rock me to sleep, but stay with me until I’m not making a peep. With mommy and sister we’ll laugh and we’ll play, and you’ll get to watch me grow every day. I’ll be there cheering at all of your games, until it’s time for me to hit the ice just the same. I can’t wait to meet you so very soon, so I’ll see you and mommy this coming June.” You were both quietly crying by the time he was done reading the card and he clutched it tightly in his hand, closing his eyes to collect his thoughts before he finally addressed you again. “Really? You’re pregnant?” You only had the chance to nod before he was up off the couch, bringing you in tightly to his body as you both tried to rein in your emotions. “I found out about a week before we left. We have the first ultrasound as soon as we get back to Toronto.” You pulled back slightly, making eye contact before you continued, “I’m so fucking happy, Fred. I’m so excited to have another baby with you. Are you happy?” “Happy? Schat, I’m elated. I can’t wait to watch you be a mother again, to bring another life into this world with me. I love you. I’m so happy.” You embraced for a few minutes longer before retiring to your bedroom, and the soft, gentle sex had you falling asleep with a small smile on your face. You slept for only a few hours before you were awoken by the giggles of your first baby from the living room, the bed empty next to you and the clock on the nightstand reading 1:47 AM. You made your way toward the sound where you found Freddie bouncing your daughter on his lap, both of them apparently unable to sleep and watching cartoons on the television set. Standing in the doorway watching them with your hand placed over your still mostly flat stomach, the excitement of giving her a baby brother or sister grew in you once more, the same visions of Freddie chasing another little one around the room that you’d had three years ago now popping back into your head. You knew that he would love this baby in the same way that he loved the one currently perched on his knee, so deeply that you saw it in every moment he spent with her. Next Christmas would be just as special as the last five with him had been, and just as special as all of those still yet to come.

#f. andersen #freddie andersen #freddie andersen imagine #freddie andersen fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey writing #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fanfic #my writing

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years ago

Text

kim taehyung / reader [f]

genre: royal/fantasy au, arranged marriage au, serpent prince!taehyung, priestess!reader, very soft romance, slow burn

warning(s)!!: slow burn (there is a lot of backstory oof), insecurity, jealous taehyung (who isn’t completely aware he’s jealous), heartache (a lot i’m sorry), hurt/comfort, almost nudity or translucent wet clothes, attempt at picking a fight/no-good townsfolk, past kidnap attempts, very minor depictions of violence, very breif mention of death, taehyung cries oops, y/n loves so much it hurts, taehyung being the most devoted boy to ever devote, obvs. religious themes (i.e. prayers, worship, offerings etc.), the royal family isn’t toxic and is in fact very sweet, jungkook is featured as a monk who refuses to cut his hair

w.count: 16.6k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: PG-15 ]

synopsis: When he was born, Prince Taehyung was marked as the Serpent King’s Descendant with the mark of scales on his chest to prove it. As he grew up, he was appointed a playmate who would soon be training in the royal shrine as a maiden because of her unusually large spiritual power. They were pronounced engaged when Taehyung was just shy of his teenage years by royal command and he did nothing to fight the arrangement. Now, you’re a grown woman and head of the shrine as the Center Priestess and devotee to the shrine and royal family with a heart filled almost too full of love for your future husband-to-be. When the wedding is announced and a ball is held in an advanced celebration you wonder, does your fiancé really want to marry you? Or is he just following his father’s royal orders? You don’t know what your heart can't take more: the idea of being rejected and unloved, or never knowing the true feelings of Prince Taehyung’s heart.

t.list bc @lysannnnaa & @bella-victoria002 wanted to be notified when it was posted!

The Serpent King was an old mythical king of ages that had stories upon stories spun about him.

He was a man given the powers of a great sea serpent and among his journey to harness his powers and grow as the future king he knew he was destined to become, he traveled far and wide until he came upon an island. This island was completely devoid of creatures- be it human or animal- aside from a giant snake he had found lay sleeping in a cave by the sea. The Serpent King decided to make this island his home- and began to craft and build his kingdom to which he would rule- the snake by his side.

Years passed and soon there it was, the kingdom the Serpent King had dreamt of. However, before he could see it continue to grow and prosper, he fell ill and weak. Dying on his bed surrounded by his people and the snake that had accompanied him in his goals, he prayed that the power in which he possessed would one day be reborn inside a new future king.

The mighty island was named by the late Serpent King as the Hissing Isle. When he passed, the kingdom took not to grieving, but to work and worship. They built a shrine alongside the castle he had crafted. Created memorials to which townsfolk and the occasional visitor may visit and pray to. Monuments of him with a giant snake wound around his body. His people continued his kingdom and a new royal family was chosen and so the generations passed; everyone waiting until the next Serpent King would be born.

His companion snake was never seen again, rumor spreading that it took the to seas to watch over the island because it’s master was in the sky among the heavens.

Centuries later, the royal castle was in full bustle as the queen had gone into labor unexpectedly. Ushering her to a delivery room in the medical wing of the castle, the king not far behind as he left his work and notes in his study at the news of his wife. Servants very quickly scurried about in panic for the arrival of the new royal child.

It was an agonizing five hours later when the new baby prince was born. However, among the servants and the spiritual monk with the king and queen, none spoke. The room was silent aside from the cries of the newborn baby- the same baby who had a mark on his chest. A mark that was small, just the size of his newborn fist and detailed so delicately as a patch of scales.

The king shed a tear as he smiled at his wife, holding her hand to soothe and congratulate her on a well done delivery of her first child. The baby was soon cleaned and swaddled in a bundle of the softest cloth before the queen was requesting to hold her son. As he was placed in the woman’s arms, she smiled down at him as he instantly calmed. The king sat beside the two, his hand on his queen’s leg as they both looked at the mark on their son once more.

The Serpent King had finally chosen a new spirit to gift power to. Reincarnated into this small, healthy baby prince hundreds upon hundreds of years into the future. Serpent Prince Kim Taehyung, that is his name.

Two years after the young prince was born, another baby was born with special powers. Born in a brilliant blue aura and a strong, healthy body, a shrine monk had been shocked speechless at the amount of rare spiritual energy the newborn infant possessed. It was decided among the few hours after her birth, that this baby girl would grow to be a magnificent shrine priestess and when the time would call for it, her training to harness her abilities would begin.

Both the serpent blooded prince and the infant priestess would soon grow into bodies that would learn many things and experience many occasions and emotions. First, however, they would need to meet.

“Y/n, come here for a spell,” your mother called for your attention as you sat at a small open chest filled with small wooden toys and bells and ribbons you had been gifted. It had been four years since you were born and to you, your life had just started as your memory finally started allowing you to retain information and people’s faces.

Your mother stood at the door to your room in her dress of a distasteful shade of brown that laced around her stomach to shrink her waist and strapped over her shoulders. The dress trapped the off shoulder white blouse she wore over her torso as her hair was braided along the back of her head, pinned up and out of the way.

You looked back over your small shoulder still dressed in your pale yellow nightgown that reached your ankles with sleeves that covered your entire hand to your fingertips when you stood. Hair unkempt and unbrushed from sleep, as you had woken up and immediately took to your toy chest to occupy your time until you were fetched by your single parent.

Standing, you abandoned your trinkets as you rushed to your mother’s side. Grabbing her skirt in your fists and pushing your face into the fabric of her dress, giggling at the warm embrace she gave you. Her hands pushed on your shoulders and back as she leaned to greet you a good morning.

“Good morning, my dearest little girl,” your mother cooed as you lifted your face from her skirt and smiled up at her. You were always a shy child, but she hoped now that you were more aware of your surroundings, you would grow out of your shyness. She gently pushed you away just enough so she could kneel on the floor in front of you, brushing your messy hair out of your face with her fingers. “We have to get you dressed. Today is a very big day,” she told you.

“What does that mean, mommy?” You asked, your small voice pitched and as sweet as song bells to your mother’s ears. How she loved the sound of your voice.

“It means, dearest, that you’re going to meet someone who will become your friend today.” The woman watched your puffy child-fat-cheeks, extend in a pout as you frowned. “Now,” she started, softly but sternly, “do not pout like that. It would make me very happy if you would play with another child.”

“Well,” your small voice started as your pout lessened, “if mommy wants me to, I can try.” your mother smiled as she gently kissed your forehead. You were only four, but you were very kind and gentle, and smarter than you thought.

“That’s my girl,” she encouraged as she backed you up into your room to ready you for the day. Placing you in a dress the color of daffodils that reached just past your knee and the long sleeves open at the shoulders, your mother messed with your head.

You admired your dress in the standing mirror in your room. Ruffles of soft yellow running around your skirt and the white fabric on your chest dotted with small flowers. Hair now brushed and pinned only partially back with a flower clip, your mother was soon sliding flat, black shoes over your feet. “You look beautiful, dearest,” she cooed as she kissed your cheek.

“Mommy’s way more pretty than me!” You cheered as she stood and you took her hand, letting her lead you out of your room.

You had lived in the castle your entire life, but only recently did you start remembering the layout of the massive royal home. You often remembered going to the shrine more often than not, feeling so peaceful and calm inside the shrine’s walls. The fountain inside with a statue of a man and a snake always seemed warm to you.

Your mother walked slowly at your side as you clung to her hand the entire journey from your room, down the halls, past servants and guards alike until she came to stand at a grand, red doorway. You gripped her hand tighter, nerves bubbling in your small stomach.

She offered two easy knocks that reverberated through the halls, bouncing off the walls in echoes that seemed so loud you wanted to cover your ears.

“Majesty, it is Lily of the Shrine Courts. I have brought my daughter as you have asked,” she announced to the closed door. You thought her crazy until a voice echoed from behind the doors offering her entrance into the room beyond the red entrance. She looked down at you before smiling. “Do not worry, I will be with you the whole time,” she assured as you nodded, unaware of who was going to be inside.

She pushed the door open with loud, aching creaks as you followed her in. your young eyes were wide as you looked around the room you had entered with your mother. Large, wide and open with a single red carpet with gold trim lining the floor from the door to a set of 5 steps with thrones sitting atop them. There were three, dark wooden thrones in your line of sight.

One on the far left was the biggest of the three. Glorious and plush with red cushions that looked like you could jump on and sink right into the cushion. Gold trim surrounded the cushions as golden tassels hung from the arm rests of the throne.

The middle throne was much less extravagant and smaller in size, but still as beautiful as the one before. With A fanned, three curved humps at the top of the back and red cloth that hung from the cushion like a bed-skirt over a box spring.

The third, was just about the same size as the middle one. Resembling both the first and second, it was like a hybridized fashion of the first two- a child of the two thrones so to speak.

In two of those three thrones, sat two adults. In the first, glorious throne was a man dressed in black, gold and purple with a fur lined robe over his shoulders. A golden, magnificent crown sat along his head. Next to him was a woman, a small tiara sat atop her pinned and folded hair as her dress was a soft purple and flowed so elegantly you knew without touching it that the fabric would be soft.

You knew without a doubt it was the king and queen of Hissing Isle. The royal family that lived in Serpent Castle. You had never truly met them face to face before, and you thought your legs were going to freeze then collapse.

Your mother soon came to a respectful halt a fair distance in front of the steps leading up to the thrones before she lowered her chest in a deep bow. In theory you would have copied your mother, but you simply couldn’t move due to the nerves rampaging through your body.

The queen looked at you with a smile on her face as she soon rose from her throne and picked up the floor length gown as she revealed her jeweled heels as she stepped carefully down the steps and soon was approaching you both. You jolted as you felt your mother’s hand on the back of your head.

The queen was soon kneeling in front of you, her graceful beauty within arms reach, but all you could do is stare in wide-eyed awe and anxiousness.

“You have a lovely daughter, Lady Lily,” the queen's smooth, rich voice spoke to your mother even though she was looking at you. She reached out her hand as she brushed the back of her finger across her cheek and through your freshly brushed hair as you gulped. “Hello, sweetheart,” she softly called.

“Hello,” you croaked out as the hand of your mother’s brushed along the back of your head, soothing you.

“Do you know why you’re here this morning, child?” You nodded your head at the queen’s question “There are many things you are destined for, small lady. First, my husband and I would like to introduce you to another child just a couple years older than you. We hope you both can become friends.” You silently nod once again, still gripping onto your mother’s dress like a lifeline.

The queen stands back up and steps away from you as she exchanges words with your mother. You look around the throne room and back behind the curtains that drape behind the set of thrones you see a faint silhouette. You shuddered, thinking it was one of those shadow monsters you see in the corner of your vision.

You jolt when the shadow seems to have locked eye contact with you. You tug on your mother’s dress and reach to grab her hand as you look up towards her. She’s soon looking down at you, her precious child with eyes that can see almost too well, before she is grabbing your hand back tightly in hers.

“What is it, dearest?” You crush your face into the fabric of her dress as you feel her leg behind it. “Y/n,” she cooed, trying to have you behave just a bit better in front of the royal family.

“There’s a shadow in here,” you muttered as you felt her other hand on your head again, avoiding snagging her fingernails into your clipped hair. “Behind those big chairs, there’s a shadow,” you whine. Both your mother and the queen turn to look behind the set of glorious seats and the queen only smiles at the ‘shadow’ you had seen.

“Oh my,” the queen breathed, “why are you hiding back there again, Taehyung,” the queen called. You looked up from the fabric of your mother’s skirt as you peered around her to see the shadow move- making you jump. Soon, a young boy was walking out of the shadows, dressed in a black shirt and pants with a golden vest of thick embroidered shoulders and hems on his small framed torso. His blonde hair shining like a star. Your body relaxed- it wasn’t a shadow after all.

“I apologize for her,” your mother addressed and you instantly felt guilty. Your mother was apologizing because you jumped to conclusions because you weren’t able to tell the shadows from people yet; these shadows only just started appearing in your vision recently and they scared you. “Her eyes can see more than what others can, so she hasn’t learned spirits from humans yet.”

“I see the rumors about her abilities are true then,” from behind the queen, the king who had been sitting in silence had finally spoken. “I can feel her spiritual pressure even from here, and she’s of such young age. You should be proud of your daughter, Lady Lily.” The king rose from his throne as he descended the steps and called the child boy over to his and the queen’s side.

Soon, the king and queen stood in front of you as the young boy stood between them. You didn’t need to be told that this was their child- the prince of whom you knew of but had also never met. The look in his dark eyes made you shiver, like he wasn’t a happy child. But, the royal family was so kind and made you feel warm- why would his eyes look so grim then?

The king soon placed a large hand on the prince’s small shoulder.

“Young Y/n, as of today I would be honored if you would keep my son company.” You looked up at the king with a dropped jaw. The prince was the new friend your mother had told you about? You looked back down at the prince- his expression unchanged as if he was unhappy about your newfound company. Maybe that is why his eyes looked that way, he didn’t want a playmate. “Is that alright?” The king asked as if your four year old little heart had the gall to say no the royalty.

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked in shyness. “It’s alright,” you confirmed with your small, bell voice your mother always praised. It made the queen and king smile as the queen wrapped her arm around her son's shoulders, kneeling to his level and gaining his attention.

“Now, Taehyung,” she started softly, “Y/n is going to be your friend, so you treat her kindly, alright?” You jolted and sucked in a small breath when the prince looked back to you before returning his bland gaze to his mother.

“Yes, mother,” he muttered. The queen brushed back Taehyung’s hair and sent him off, out of the throne room. Soon, your mother was advising you to follow after him. With a small head pat from your mother and a gulp of attempted bravery, you trotted after the six-year-old prince who didn’t seem very happy to have a new friend.

It had been four days since you were assigned Prince Taehyung’s playmate and friend. You often spent time in the library reading while he studied, or walking behind him as he roamed through the gardens before sitting on a bench with a book, you sitting on the opposite end of the same bench.

Every night your mother would tuck you into bed and ask how your day with the prince was and you would always tell her the same thing. You were nothing but a duckling following around the royal prince as he never spoke to you even if you spoke to him. You feared he disliked you and you often sought your mother’s comfort as you would nearly cry at the thought of your first real friend hating you.

Every morning you’d wake up and pick out the prettiest dress and most eye-catching hair pins and ribbons to try and attract the prince’s attention. Even when you tried wearing shoes that clack with each step, he never even spared you a glance.

It was midday of the fifth day of being Taehyung’s new friend when you decided to try and be more aggressive with your mission you had dubbed: ‘make Prince Taehyung my friend’. You both sat in the library as he was scribbling in a book with another book open next to him. You had recognized the book he was studying today- a book of hymns from the past that are typically sung about or for the Serpent King’s spirit and the Sea Snake. You were currently being taught those same hymns by the shrine maidens and monks during the time you weren’t trailing Taehyung.

“Prince Taehyung,” you called softly, knowing he wouldn’t answer you. You swallowed your nervous breath as you pushed more words out instead of giving up instantly like the days prior. “Are you very interested in the Sea Snake and Serpent King hymns? If so, I can sing them for you,” you offered. You saw his fountain pen halt in his hand for just a moment before he resumed writing.

You almost smiled, that was proof he was listening to you- just ignoring you.

“You know,” you continued, stepped just ever so closer to the chair he sat in as his feet dangled, still far too short to reach the floor. “I’m being taught a lot of those from the shrine maidens. They said I need to know them because I’m going to become a shrine maiden one day too. They told me I’m going to be a priestess and that the hymns would be very important to know when I’m all grown up.”

He didn’t pay you any mind just as you were used to. You wracked your young mind to think as to why he was so uninterested in you. You’ve always wanted a friend around your age, and he was only two years older than you. He wasn’t so superior to you as a six-year-old that you had to be ignored. Maybe he was just a snobby prince? But, that didn't seem to fit him. The aura he gave off felt sad and calm to you- like he wanted something he just wasn’t getting, but staying to himself about it.

Then, you had a thought.

Prince Taehyung is the Serpent King’s descendant- his reincarnation as you were told- who was blessed with the ancient king’s blood. He would one day rule the kingdom and lead the Hissing Isle into a golden age- even more peaceful and prosperous than the Serpent Kingdom is right now.

“Prince Taehyung,” you addressed him again. You had gotten beside him and gently grabbed the cloth of his shirt around his elbow between your fingers. “Are you sad about being born like the Serpent King?” For the first time the child prince stopped his scribbling and the air around you changed.

It became tense and you felt like you were suffocating. Did you cross a line? Were you supposed to just keep your mouth shut and follow him like a little duckling for the rest of your childhood until he finally snapped and told you to leave him alone? You shivered. Would he snap now? Would he yell and tell you to be gone because you were prying into business that isn’t yours?

“Am I sad about being born this way?” The first sentence ever spoken to you from the prince’s mouth and it felt sharp as it hit your heart. “Am I sad about being told who I am and who I’m supposed to be? Am I sad about being so different that people can’t even use my name? Am I sad that I’m just ‘Serpent Prince Taehyung’?” He finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes lined with frustrated tears. “Wouldn’t you be sad about that?” He softly choked.

“Prince,” you called in a small breath, unable to recognize that the small prince had been carrying such a burden on his shoulders. Was he really outcast like he claims? True, when you followed him around, all people did was bow their head and offer praises of the blood of the serpent king.

“How are you okay with the shrine telling you who you’re destined to become?” He asked, turning away from the book full of hymns and swiveling to look at you standing next to him.

“Because my mom said I’d grow up to be a great priestess one day,” you spoke in a heavily whispered answer. “And my mom would never lie to me, so I believe her.”

“She’s planning your life for you. Doesn’t that make you mad? Shouldn’t you have the freedom to choose what you want?” This was the most the prince had ever spoken in your presence.

“I’m not mad,” you quickly deny. “I really like learning all the hymns and the dances the shrine is teaching me. I get to dance with bells and ribbons and sing songs that will help people when I grow up. I get scared of shadows and odd creatures I see, but the more I learn from the monks, the more I can face those scary things. I have so much fun with the shrine people, so I could never be mad about growing up like they say I will.” You let go of the prince's sleeves only to grab his hand hesitantly.

His hand is relaxed in yours, not moving to pull away or to return the gesture. You think you finally understand why the prince’s eyes are so sad. He’s scared of his future and feels trapped. You step closer to his chair, making him lean back as you got into his personal bubble that had never been popped before.

“If you’re unhappy, the king and queen would surely listen to you!” You announced with a brow furrowed in determination. “If you told you mom and dad, I’m sure they’d listen and accept whatever you said! My mom always tells me to tell her anything and as long as I’m honest, she’ll listen without anger. I’m sure your mom and dad think the same thing, Taehyung.”

His eyes were wide as you quickly spoke- throwing out his title in the spur of the moment. Advising him to go talk to his parents about his woes? Addressing him so boldly in an attempt to cheer him up after all he’s been doing for as long as he could remember is brood in the idea of his set in stone future? Could he really tell his parents that he was scared of letting them down? He was just a child, a small little six-year-old who was scared of disappointing his parents.

“I can’t tell them,” he whispered to himself more than you, trying to get the idea of speaking his mind out of his head. He couldn’t be selfish, not when so many people expect so much from him.

“Then, you can tell me and I’ll tell them for you!” You announced again. “You’re my friend, Taehyung, and if you can’t tell them, then I’ll do it for you.” The prince dropped his jaw as he looked into the total seriousness of your eyes. You meant it; every word you’ve said you have meant. You looked down at your hand when you felt the boy grip it back, holding your hand tightly.

“You don’t think they’d be mad at me?” His true colors of youth finally broke through. You smiled brightly at him as you shook your head. “Then, I guess I can try… later, at dinner maybe.” you saw a small hue paint his cheeks as you giggled at the sudden cute turn his demeanor took. “You said you knew some of these?” He asked, referring back to his book of hymns. You nodded as he got up, let go of your hand and fetched a new chair for you, setting it beside him as he climbed back into his. “Then, could you sing one?”

Your child-like voice of bells sang any hymn he could find you knew and he could feel the serpent blood in him react to it, reaching out to the songs it found so familiar.

Two years passed, and Taehyung had finally started becoming a prince he could be proud of. He had apologized to you and your mother for being so rude for the first week of your friendship, but since then, you and he were inseparable. He would often come to the shrine to see you practice your dances and listen to your songs.

The prince was smiling more and enjoying his studies. He often talked with his parents when he had troubles now, and he had accepted his role as the future king. He had thought he needed to be perfect in the past, and now he knew that as long as he did his best and never lied, it would all be alright. Failure kept him humble, but it would never hold him back like it once did before.

On your sixth birthday, your mother gifted you with your first shrine maiden robe. Of red and gold, it hung loosely around your shoulders and tied around your waist with a golden sash. A set of golden threads looped into small snakes on each lapel of your robe connected with a red thread across your chest.

When you were dressed in it, you were eager to show Taehyung, but first wanted to learn a dance to properly show the robe off. It was your first ever maiden robe and you had been training in the shrine for as long as you could remember now.

Your mother who was growing older every year laughed as you would occasionally stumble over the long robe’s fabric as you attempted to learn the way it moved with you. That evening, Taehyung had come to the shrine to see you, having not heard a word from you all day.

When he arrived however, you were fast asleep on the marble floor, resting against the side of the fountain placed inside the shrine of the purest sea water. A pyramid of bells rolled out of your palm as you sat peacefully asleep in your new robe.

“Good evening, Young Prince,” your mother greeted, making Taehyung jolt. “I’m sorry if you’ve come to see Y/n. My daughter practiced too hard it seems and fell asleep the moment she sat to rest.” Taehyung looked and watched you sleep against the fountain.

Over the course of your training and aging, he had felt your spiritual power grow alongside the power he felt in himself. He still remembers the day you finally broke him of his shell when you told him how you would train to be the proud priestess your mother said you’d be one day.

He smiled as he walked to you, lifting your lulled head up and placing it on his shoulder as he sat next to you on the shrine floor. He looked up at your mother who was stuck between telling the prince to not sit on the floor and to just wake you up.

“Do you mind if I sit with her for a while?” He asked as she just smiled.

“Stay as long as you’d like,” she told him before retreating back to the castle. She later returned with the queen by her side when dinner came around and the two just stifled laughs at the young prince’s head resting on yours, you both fast asleep.

A year passed and Taehyung had finally grown his serpent scales and eyes that would stick with him the rest of his life. Golden scales grew under his eyes as the dark shade of them brightened to a gold you found hypnotizing. He had initially hid his face from the palace, unable to show his scales. It took a whole afternoon of you sitting in his room with him to convince him that it was okay and that his new scales didn’t make him scary.

Ever since his scales and eyes came in, he had been able to hear you sing from wherever you were. You could be in the depths of the shrine and he could be on the opposite side of the castle and he could hear your songs and feel your messages. He could tell when you were sad or happy or sick or in pain with each song he heard. Able to convey your emotions through your songs, he wondered why it was he couldn’t hear any other people.

When The monks chanted their mantras or the other maidens and priestess’ sung, he couldn’t hear them. Only your voice was heard in his ears.

He had often spoken to his father, the king, about it. The king was unsure as to the reason as well, but passed it off as a result of your spiritual power and your control over it. However, it wasn’t until one afternoon that Taehyung realized that he could not only hear your songs from anywhere, but he could find out where you were located if your situation grew dangerous or dire.

You were in the palace gardens studying flowers and leaves as part of your training on what plants or herbs to dry and place as offerings to the Serpent King’s spirit. Placing herbs and flower petals inside of a clay bowl, you had heard someone approach you. Turning around, you saw two men dressed in foreign clothes you hadn’t seen before.

“Hello,” you greeted weakly as you stood on shaking feet. Your clay bowl in hand as they just look at each other. “I’ve never seen you before in the castle, what are you doing here?” You had gotten braver each year and as a proud standing nine-year-old, you were determined to figure out if these were the king’s visitors or uninvited guests.

“Little girl,” one of them spoke as it made your skin prick. “You are a priestess?”

“Uh, yes,” you squeaked. The moment one of them moved to reach behind into a pouch they kept on their hip, you panicked. Throwing the bowl of herbs, you closed your fist, extended your two first fingers and chanted a small protective spell. The herbs that flew towards the intruders caught fire and gave you just enough time to turn and run into the maze of hedges to hide.

Taking so many turns in the maze you had no idea the layout of, you were soon tucking yourself away in a corner, trying to hide in the shrubs as much as possible. With each rustle of the plants and wind you grew more and more tense.

You suddenly remembered a certain song you were taught recently that was instructed by the king for you to learn. It was a song of calling when in danger. If ever there was a time to test it, now was that time. So, under your breath you whispered weakly the lines of hymns you were taught.

Taehyung was in the study with his father when the air shifted outside. Looking out the window, he stared out into the open gardens of trees, flowers and bushes. Even further, he could see the open sea of his island kingdom. He wondered why the air felt heavy so suddenly. He felt suffocated and stuffy as he pulled at the collar of his turtleneck shirt.

The king noticed his son’s discomfort. “What is it?”

“It just got really stuffy in here,” the prince replied, “that’s all.” Yet as he returned to his lessons, the uneasiness in his chest didn’t stop. For minutes it lasted until your name flashed into his head like a siren as his skin pricked before he was hearing you sing again.

Taehyung jumped from his chair, pushing it back with enough force to kick it back onto the floor, startling the king close to him. Taehyung’s golden snake-like eyes were wide as they looked out the window beyond the palace walls.

The king slowly stood, unable to determine his son’s sudden burst of haste. “Taehyung,” he tried, but the prince’s attention wasn’t drawn.

“Y/n,” he whispered. He walked around the fallen chair and to the window, placing his palms on the glass panes as he looked down into the gardens. Flashes of the shrub maze playing in his subconscious as he listened to your shaky, fearful song play in his mind. He saw the faces of two strangers, a bowl of clay, fire and then your back retreating into the maze before he started to panic. “Father,” he called in haste as he turned to the king behind him. “There are intruders in the garden and they’re after Y/n.”

The king was quick to act. Immediately dispatching guards to the gardens to catch the uninvited guests before they caught you. Taehyung couldn’t settle down, even with his father trying to convince him it would be okay and that help was coming to you. It didn’t help calm his blood that screamed to find you first.

His gaze stuck outside, your voice still echoing in his head, your song replaying over and over again as your fear pounded in the center of his chest. He didn’t even register himself ripping his arms out of his father’s grasp as he ran out of the castle and into the gardens to find you himself, knowing exactly where you were.

It was two hours later when the culprits of your attempted abduction were caught and imprisoned, followed by a party of castle guards finally locating your hiding spot. Only, they were shocked to see that Taehyung had been crouched in front of you, holding your head on his chest as you cried before eventually falling asleep.

It was hard to explain to his parents and your mother how he could hear your songs, and feel your emotions. It was even harder to explain how he was able to know exactly where you were and know what had happened as if he had been there himself. It was that very evening that the king had made a decision that would affect you both in the coming years.

“Y/n,” Taehyung had called as you were knelt in the shrine, hands clasped together before you lowered your arms and looked over your shoulder to your prince. You were ten-years-old now while Taehyung was nearly in his teenage years. You both were nearly the same height as you stood to come to his call.

You nearly felt your cheeks blush in the presence of your beloved prince. Ever since you were nine and nearly kidnapped from the castle gardens, Taehyung had become increasingly more protective over you. This in turn created a delusional crush you held for the royal heir. You had to be careful of your songs so that he wouldn’t catch on to your feelings each morning and evening when you sang songs of greeting and farewell to the sun and sea.

“Yes?” You waited as you came to stand in front of him. “Do you need something from me Taehyung? I thought you had archery this morning?” You tilted your head in curiosity as he quickly took your hand in his, something he started a year ago so that he could always feel you behind him. “Taehyung?”

“Father and mother have called us to the audience chamber.” Your mouth opened in question as your mother came up behind you. Taehyung was quick to greet her. “Good morning, Lady Lily.”

“A fine morning to you, young Prince.” Your mother soon placed her hand on your back, silently ushering you on. “You can finish your morning devotions after your audience with the king and queen. It is alright,” she smiled. She seemed to know something you didn’t, like she knew what the call of presence was for. Though, you couldn’t ask because of Taehyung quickly pulling you out of the shrine with him.

“Your morning hymn was lovely,” he told you as he entered the castle’s second floor, taking your hands and helping you up the staircase so you wouldn’t trip on your long gown.

“Do you think so?” You asked, wavering on how you sang this morning. “I had thought my sound wasn’t as clear as before.”

“You improve everyday. Perhaps if you feel it needs improvement, sip water from the shrine’s fountain. That will certainly cleanse your throat and replenish any diminished power,” he advised. Typically, one would not be allowed to access the sea water of the shrine’s fountain, however you were the exception to that rule.

You never knew why, but the day Taehyung offered you a small sip of the fountain’s sea water to ease your aching throat, you were permitted exclusive access to the sea’s blessed water. As, if you weren’t granted permission, that small sip of pure ocean water would have spread like poison and certainly taken your life.

As Taehyung led you to the audience chamber, you grew nervous. Just what could the monarchs of your Isle be calling you about? Were you not doing a good enough job as a training maiden? Were you lacking somehow? Or perhaps you were going to be told to stop hanging around Taehyung, the future king, as often because of his coming of age. The idea of being torn from Taehyung made your heart ache.

“Do not be nervous,” he told you, squeezing your hand. You swallowed the lump in your throat, only nodding before he knocked on the chamber door, announced himself and you, before walking inside with you in tow.

The queen and her husband sat in the two tallest, iron chairs behind the long, table in the large room. They watched you both enter hand in hand, just as they had seen you do before. As the heavy door shut behind your back, Taehyung led you to a chair across from his parents. Sitting you down first, he then takes his own seat beside you. His choice of opting to sit beside you instead of his parents confused you for a moment until he took your hand in his again beneath the iron table top.

“I apologize for interrupting your morning session, Y/n,” the queen softly called. Though aged from the first time you met her, she was still carrying herself with the same grace and beauty you had remembered all those years ago.

“It’s alright, Majesty. My mother is finishing up the offering with the monks and I can return to the shrine to finish my devotion before midday.” Your voice was rigid from you trying to keep your nervousness undetected. You felt Taehyung’s hand tighten in your grip as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You had to strain to hear the royal family’s words over the sound of your heart in your ears.

“We won’t keep you long,” the king announced. He looked at you and then to his son before he closed his eyes. His hands came up to rest in front of his mouth, fingers interlaced as his elbows rested on the iron table. “Would you say you enjoy my son’s company, Y/n?” The king’s directness made you jolt. With the smallest pink tinted cheeks, you glanced at Taehyung, seeing him only looking at his father with inquisitive eyes.

“I would. I greatly enjoy the Prince’s company.” You answered with a smile that spread unconsciously to the set of royal parents in front of you when you directed your gaze back to the pair.

“As you know,” the queen started in place of her husband, “Taehyung is the heir to the Serpent King; however, as you may have noticed, our son has a special connection with you particularly.” You lifted your eyebrow at this. Since when had the prince and you had a special connection? In truth, Taehyung never told you that he could feel what you feel when you sing and can pinpoint your location as your voice carries to the sky like a beacon. His grip in your hand falters.

“Mother,” he warned. He didn’t want you to know in fear that you would find it invasive. What if you found out and you hated it and locked up your voice in retaliation? He thought his heart would shrivel up and die if you stopped singing.

“Our son is able to hear your songs from any location on the island, we believe that it’s due to not only your bond you’ve built over the years, but also your spiritual power.” You remained silent as you took in the information. You had known Taehyung could hear you, but from such a wide scope? That shocked you. “Taehyung and you share a special bond, that much we are certain, so my husband and I spoke with Lady Lily.”

Your back straightened as the mention of your mother. “You spoke with my mother? About what, might I ask?”

“It is our intent to have you both become engaged to marry.”

You felt your heart stop at the king’s declaration. Engaged to marry? You and Taehyung? Your heart began to speed up, doing somersaults in your chest as your grip on the prince’s hand slacked. You turned to look at the preteen prince.

“Me, marry the-,” you cut yourself off, unable to speak the words. Your young cheeks flushed hot when Taehyung turned to look at you, pulling your hand tighter against his under the table. Making up for the space you created when you pulled away. His golden eyes burned into yours as he then turned back to his father.

“I’m willing to go through with it,” the young prince announced, shocking you. “That is,” he turned his sights back to you, a soft smile on his face replacing his previous look, “if Y/n agrees as well.” The queen had to hide a smile behind the back of her hand as your face wouldn’t cool down. You looked down to the hand he held out of his parents’ sight before taking a breath.

It wouldn’t be selfish to want this- you look back up at him with hopeful eyes- right? Smiling back after a heartbeat or two, you turned to his parents and lowered your head.

“I’m honored by the royal families decision. If you’ll accept me, I agree to the arrangement as well.” A small talk about formalities and official announcements of the engagement later and you and Taehyung were dismissed back to your daily routine. However, everything felt shifted now.

As Taehyung led you back to the shrine, you stayed absolutely silent- something the prince noticed. You were always talking to him about something, but now you were speechless and it made him nervous. He wasn’t even holding your hand anymore, because the moment you both stood to leave the audience chamber, you had let him go.

“I’ll properly thank your mother when I see her next,” he told you suddenly in the empty hall he walked with you down. “Since I’m your fiance now, it’d be rude if I didn’t thank her for her permission to marry you.”

“Ah, right,” you made a small noise before acknowledging him. He stopped in the hall and sighed, turning to you.

“So, it is the engagement that’s making you so quiet.” You shrunk, not wanting to be a problem. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to agree to it, then-”

“No!” You screech, immediately covering your mouth. You cleared your throat, looking around to see if anyone had seen your outburst and gathered your thoughts. Your heart wouldn’t stop beating and your stomach felt fuzzy from the speed of it all. “It’s just happening so fast,” you breathed, “that’s all. Really, I don’t mind.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, I am.” It was an odd sensation when Taehyung pulled you into his chest to hug you. He had held you before. When you were lost in the maze, when you were sleepy during your lessons he attended with you out of curiosity, when you both hid from castle guards who were trying to coerce you both back inside. This time was different though.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to change,” he assured you. As you lifted your arms to hug him back, you knew why it was so different and why any embrace from him would be different from now on.

Because every time from this point on, forever, would be an embrace shared between betroths.

You took a deep breath of the ocean air as the ship you were aboard grew closer to the docks of your beloved Isle. You were returning home after a trip to the mainland to familiarize further with their culture and step closer to establishing a lasting treaty. You weren’t exactly pleased forming relations with the world outside of your island home, but in the end it had to be done.

On a positive note, you were returning with all sorts of new herbs and dried meat, roots and fruits that Hissing Isle didn’t have. They would surely work well as offerings and if not, a fine snack for the castle.

“Lady Y/n!” Someone called as you turned to look for the call. A young man dressed in stained white and brown clothes and a bandanna around his waist had been the one calling. “The ship will dock in just a little while. Please prepare your things for departure. I’m sure the Prince is eagerly waiting for your return.” The man offered you a polite, if not playful, wink before he was scampering off.

A lot has happened since you had gotten engaged to the Serpent Prince twelve years ago. Your twenty-second birthday had just passed as you stood on the side of the ship, your bag of belongings and mainland offers on your back.

When you were twenty, you had surpassed your trainers and taken over the shrine as the Central Priestess. Your abilities to harness and use your spiritual powers in both offensive and defensive strategies still awed some. In fact, you planned to use your power to enforce a barrier around the island as soon as you could. Bringing back a sacred dokkosho from the mainland, you planned to use it- combined with your powers- to protect the island from malicious intruders.

However, years have not always been so kind to you. Among those years, you still wish your young mother was around to see you flourish into the priestess she had known you to be. She had fallen ill when you were eighteen and she did not last the year. You still remember how your heart broke as Taehyung shushed and held you for days upon days, as you could do nothing but cry and mourn. You could not even sing her farewell through your tears.

As the sea breeze blew through your hair and whipped at the long, loose sleeves of your dress, you smiled as the sight of your home growing closer. Your dress was off your shoulder, loose around your chest and tied with a brown sash around your waist as the skirt fell to your ankles. It was a simple dress and not at all what you would typically wear when fulfilling your role as isle priestess, but it was yours.

When the ship docked and your feet finally hit land again, you let out a breath of air. It had only been a month, but you felt like you had been away for far too long now. While you were gone, you had left the shrine in the hands of a monk who had come from the mainland years back. His skills were exceptional, but his playful attitude always left you a bit nervous.

“Lady Y/n!” The same man from before had called as you had stepped off port. You turned and quickly caught something he had tossed towards you. Looking, it was a ripe apple. “Come travel with us again soon,” he offered as you smiled at him.

“I’ll look forward to the next time then,” you bowed your head as you headed off. Heading through town, you were met with small smiles and children running to hold your hand and welcome you back home. In your small kingdom, you were well known as the main priestess and many would come to you for advice. Your position as Taehyung’s fiance added to the warmth of the island-folk.

However, not all were as kind as most.

A young girl hung off your arm as you humored her with your attention as a drunken man cut off your path. Your destination towards the castle temporarily halted. Typically, you would brush past him, however the young girl at your side only shrunk away at the sight of his disheveled appearance.

You knew this man, of course. He often gave you a rough time, unable to swallow his bit-swollen pride and accept orders from a woman who technically wasn’t of royal blood. Spending all his time and money in taverns, you were certain if you wounded him, booze would pour out of his body instead of blood.

“May I help you?” You sneered, tilting your chin and looking at him in a collected, calm warning.

“It’s a shame the mainland princes’ didn’t want to keep you over there,” he slurred. “Do us a lotta good if you stayed put on the other side of the sea.” You remained calm as you took a breath. You looked down to the young girl who clung to you. This man was not only well known to you, but to the rest of the castle town. He wasn’t exactly too well liked because of his attitude.

When he saw the little girl staring at his stubble, unshaven face, he sneered. “What are you looking at brat? Huh?!” The verbal attack to the youth was cut short when something was thrown at the drunkard’s head. Stumbling back in an over-dramatic fit of drunken balance, he looked at the ground. There lay a single, red apple.

“Even among a basket of perfect fruit, there always has to be one bad apple it seems.” Your arm was lifted, the only needed evidence the drunkard needed to know you had thrown the fruit at him. “I suggest you direct your disgust elsewhere and not towards the Isle’s youth. They will determine in the future to help or neglect you. You’d be wise to not mistreat them.”

“Why you stuck up-” the man had stomped towards you, harshly pushing you back as he grabbed the front of your dress into his fist. The child on your side was knocked away as she started to cry for the man to let you go as he just growled into your face. His breath was horrid, teeth yellow and skin tinged sickly.

“If you keep drinking, you’ll last no longer than the season,” you calmly told him even in the state you were being held in.

“My lady!” the little girl cried, as a crowd started to gather in a murmur. You knew better than to fight back, it was against your views to harm your people- even if they act so grotesque towards you. You would only tell yourself to grin and bear it.

There was a sudden hush over the crowd before they could even begin to act on freeing you from the no-good drunkard, and it was without surprise as to why. The man was grabbed by the back of his shirt collar as it was yanked back, the shirt riding up to his neck and thrusting him into cut-off, breathless panic.

His grip on your dress released immediately as he was yanked backward until he fell over his feet onto his back on the stone roads. His eyes were squeezed shut and were only opened when the one who had pulled him back and off you squats to come closer to his face. The man froze at the pair of golden eyes glaring down at him with brilliant matching scales under them.

“I do believe I’ve told you before that the next time you harass my priestess, I wouldn’t let it slide,” Taehyung sneered as the little girl had rushed back to your side, hugging you around the waist as you placed your hand on her shoulders. “Stay on the ground,” he demanded as the drunkard only nodded weakly as the prince stood back up and looked at you. Your dress was stretched and messed up around your chest now.

Yet, you smiled warmly to him nonetheless.

“Welcome home, Y/n,” he greeted as he came to your side. He smiled down to the child in front of you, petting her head. “How about I take her home from here?” He told the little girl as she ran off back to her home, leaving the crowd to disperse and the drunkard to be picked up off the road and taken back to the castle by a set of guards that were stationed in town. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him first thing after returning.”

“It’s nothing I couldn’t have handled,” you reassured, even if you had no intention of actually instigating a fight. “What brought you into town? Running errands?” He smiled as he shook his head.

“No. I felt your spiritual pressure when you landed. I simply couldn’t wait to see you after such a long time,” he told you. Your heart squeezed in your chest as he then began to lead you back to the castle. You asked about the shrine and how the offering and sessions were progressing. Taehyung was curious as to what the mainland was like and you offered to show him the goodies you brought back with you once you reached the castle.

All the while your heart pounded in your ears.

The crush you had on your prince only kept expanding in size with each passing day since you were announced engaged. You were sure if that had never happened, you would have grown out of it, however your love for him was deeper than the sea surrounded the island. You were absolutely sure, however, that Taehyung would never truly love you back.

He had always shown that you were his closest and deepest friend he had. Loving you as his first and best friend and close companion that helped him grow. However, you doubted he would ever be in love with you like you are with him, and the knowledge of your betrothal made such a bittersweet taste on your tongue.

You had often attempted to talk to him about the arrangement of your marriage. You wanted to give him the option now that he was a grown man and was able to understand what marrying you would mean. You wanted to give him the option to choose if he wanted you to become his wife for the rest of his life or not. And if he chose not to wed you, then you’d accept that, no matter how much it would break you.

You never had the strength to bring it up though. Too scared of letting him go, when he truly wasn’t fully yours. Unable to let go of the fantasy of marrying him, unable to let go of your selfishness.

You let out a sigh as Taehyung had entered the castle with you. He looked at you with furrowed brows and gold eyes.

“That is the fifth sigh since town. Are you unwell?”

“What?” you were unaware of your unconscious sighs until he had said something. “I’m fine. Just tired from the trip is all. I think I just need to rest a bit before I return to my shrine duties.”

“I’ll make sure to instruct Jungkook to keep watch over the shrine’s progression until tomorrow. Take a break until then. You’ve just returned from a long journey that I’m sure required a lot of strength. Do not push yourself.”

You nodded. Jungkook was the monk in-charge of the shrine when you are absent or unable to manage it for a number of reasons. He often watches it once a month when your body is in such pain that moving from your bed is a battle in itself.

He was a stubborn monk, but he was well versed in his craft you had to admit. He was different from the other monks you’ve grown up with. For instance, he refused to cut his hair like the others who had clean heads without hair at all. His long, brown locks curled around his ears and over his forehead, occasionally being tied back with a hair string for rituals.

“Yes,” you agreed, “that would be nice.”

You two had walked further into the castle when someone had rounded a further corner ahead and caught sight of you. Speak of the devil.

“Hey! Y/n!” Jungkook waved in his robes of black and purple, rushing towards you. He was a friendly monk, child-like and free spirited and never addressed you properly by title. You almost admire that about him. He came to a stop in front of you and Taehyung as the prince suddenly drew quiet without you noticing. “Welcome back home,” he grinned down at you, standing a head taller.

“Yes, it’s good to be back.” You smiled in greeting as you both conversed. Taehyung watched you both talk so openly and comfortably. You often spoke without formality when you were with Jungkook. With himself though- even if you had known him since he was six- you still held a sense of formality. He didn’t realize how much he missed your relaxed speech when you were young until he was watching you talk so comfortably with the long-haired monk.

“I hope you won’t mind keeping charge of the shrine until tomorrow. I have to wait a bit longer for my powers to return to normal. The mainland pressure is far different than the island, so adjustment takes time.”

“Leave it to me, it’s not so hard.” He shrugged smugly. You rolled your eyes as Jungkook soon looked passed you to Taehyung who had been standing in silence. He looked back down to you. “The lovely couple off somewhere?” His chide was met with you snatching the staff he had at his side from his grasp and whacking him with it. “Ow! What’s with the sudden aggression?” He whine sorely as he rubbed his back. You gently handed the staff back to him as if you had done no wrong.

“That’s your punishment for improper speech to the woman who is technically your superior,” you told him, but you both knew the real reason you whacked him. Jungkook was the sole person you’ve confided in about your feelings for the serpent prince. “Return to your shrine duties, I’ll be stopping by with new offerings later,” you told him as you started away.

“Yes, yes. As you wish, My Lady,” he submitted as he watched you leave, Taehyung silently trailing behind you.

It was silent again as Taehyung and you continued on your way to the throne room to greet the royal family and tell them of your return. They must already know you had come back since Taehyung had shown up so quickly as you landed, but it was still a requirement of the shrine’s center priestess to announce her departure and arrival.

“You and that monk seem to get along well,” Taehyung spoke, bitterly refusing to use Jungkook's name.

“Yes, well, he is two years younger than me. It’s easy to speak naturally to him when he’s only just turned twenty.”

The conversation was short lived as Taehyung didn’t speak after that and you didn’t either. The silence was almost comfortable and before long, you were entering the throne room with Taehyung just as you had a million other times before now.

As you grew closer, the queen sat higher in her chair. Her hair had faded to a shade of silver from age as the king’s black hair had begun to follow. “Ah, young Lady Y/n, I’m glad you’ve made it back safely. Did you enjoy your visit to the mainland?”

“Not as much as I enjoy the feeling of being home, Majesty.”

“Of course,” she mused. “I’m glad you have returned. My husband and I would like to speak to you and Taehyung if you have a moment.” You looked at the man beside you as he looked at his parents with an indifferent gaze like something was weighing on his mind.

“The wedding is next week?!” Jungkook screeched. You had just returned to the shrine from the castle in which the royal family had decided that you and Taehyung would be married by next week's end. “It’s so sudden,” the monk stated in a much milder tone.

“Not really,” you told him as you removed the wrapped herbs and roots from your bag. “I’ve been engaged to him since I was young. It was bound to happen one day.” You kept replaying the conversation from earlier in your mind. Just as it had been in the past, the moment his parents decided it, he just nodded and went along with their plans.

The same feeling in your gut wrenched and twisted like a dying tree root. Was he just going along with his parent’s decision because he admired them so much? Was he just doing this for the sake of his people because you were the Isle’s priestess? Or, was he doing this because it was something decided so long ago and he felt like he had no way out now?

As you set your items along the marble alter inside the shrine Jungkook watched you with soft, dewy eyes. He knew how much your heart loved the prince and how much you kept breaking your own heart over and over again. You never let yourself have the satisfaction of being with Taehyung all because you wouldn’t let yourself believe Taehyung would ever love you.

“Y/n,” he gently called. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I’m sure if you told him how you felt, then-”

“There would be no point in that,” you interrupted. “If I told him how I felt, and he didn’t return those feelings, then the whole relationship we’ve built up our entire lives would be ruined. At least if we get married as childhood friends, I can keep a piece of my happiness when I wear a ring around my finger.”

“But, if you just-”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off again. “Please, just drop it. I’ve made up my mind, you can’t change it.” The monk yielded as he just sighed and moved to stand beside you. Looping his arm over your shoulders, he pulled you in for a side hug.

“Just don’t get hurt,” he whispered.

Three days later, a ball would be held in an advanced celebration for the prince’s wedding. The event is grand, even invitations sent to the mainland were met with positive notes and promises to attend. You grew more and more anxious as the ball grew closer, specifically because you were going to be in charge of the first song of the evening.

A part of you thought it unfair. You were in charge of singing the first song for the guests in attendance. Meaning you wouldn’t be able to participate in the first dance and even more sour tasting is that Taehyung had the option to dance with whomever he chose. It was your engagement ball too, but there was no way around it- since it was the priestess’s duty to sing after all.

Jungkook offered to take your position and perform a hymn in your stead, but you simply told him not to worry about it. He wouldn’t be attending the ball- even if he was invited- simply because he had to watch the shrine while you would be preoccupied for the day.

Everyday prior to the ball you were cooped up in vocal training and hymn precision so as to not ruin the first dance. The morning of the ball, you only practiced once and then saved your voice for the evening of the event.

The castle was bustling with servants and guards running to and fro, along with the steady flow of mainland guests arriving in the town’s port. You sat somewhere in the twists and turns of the hedge maze as you tried to steady your heart. The wind blew softly, like a blanket of comfort before you were opening your eyes to see the prince in front of you.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said calmly in the wind.

“Everything’s so busy, I guess I just wanted to escape the chaos for as long as possible,” you shrugged as he came closer to you. You slid down the bench you sat on as he moved to sit beside you. It was silent for a time before he spoke up again.

“Do you remember the first time you came into this maze?” You looked at him. “You were confronted by criminals who had sneaked into the castle grounds with the intent to kidnap you. You ran into this maze, crouched into a ball and sang. I still remember that day so vividly.”

You looked away from him as you turned your sights to your lap. Dressed in your common gown, your hands were folded on your legs.

“Yes, I remember. You came to save me that day. I remember I was so scared, then you came running around the corner and I just started crying.” You laughed bitterly at the memory. “Next thing I knew, I was waking up the next morning in my bed like always.” You paused, contemplating on if you should speak more or let the silence envelope you both. “I guess you were always saving me, even all the way back then.”

Taehyung watched you as you kept an eye on your lap, fiddling with your hands in the warm breeze of spring. Your hair dancing in small wisps, almost hypnotizing him.

“Mother told me you’re performing the song for the first dance this evening,” he opened in a new conversation. “Which hymn have you chosen?” He asked.

“You don’t already know?” You looked at him. His gold scales reflecting off the sunlight. “I thought you always listened to my songs,” you teased with a lopsided smile. He returned the gesture back to you.

“I’ve been trying not to listen to your songs the past few days, as to not ruin the surprise.”

“Then, I guess you have no reason to know what I’ll be singing.” You both sat comfortably for a while and you even started thinking about actually unloading your heart to him. Jungkook’s constant push to tell Taehyung how you felt nagging at your mind as you sat with him so calmly in the garden. Now would be the perfect time, but it seemed you spent too much time thinking it over, you overran your chance.

“Lady Y/n!” You sighed as you heard someone call for you from afar. Taehyung straightened his back, narrowing his eyes to the distant voice who had disturbed the peaceful atmosphere. He looked to you when you suddenly stood and called back to them.

“I’m here!” You shouted as you stood and looked down to Taehyung. You smiled at him, but his eyes widened when he saw a small touch of sadness on your lips. “I look forward to seeing who you’ll choose to partner with during the first dance tonight.”

“Wait-” he reached out to you as he had begun to stand from the bench but you had already moved away from him. Disappearing behind the shrubs and out of his sight before he heard you conversing with a servant who was probably going to rush you off into preparations for the ball. He listened to your voice grow distant as he looked at the open palm of his, not able to remember the last time he held your hand. In that moment, the spring air felt colder to him in the sunlit maze.

You’ve never dreaded putting on a formal gown more than now, knowing that you’d be wearing it to your engagement ball. The dress itself was beautiful. White lace surrounded the breast and around your waist to wrap around your entire torso before the lace ended at your hips to let the red skirt fall to the floor where more white lace hemmed the end of the skirt. Your arms were covered in open fingered gloves that extended just past the elbow as the dress had to straps and rested on your chest.

Your hair was partially pulled back, the fronts of your locks pulled back behind your head and pinned into a knot with a white ribbon as the rest lay on your shoulders. A servant had come into the room as a lace was being wrapped around your neck when another necklace was presented. A small, red gem in the shape of a teardrop- apparently a gift from Taehyung for you to wear. You wore it along with the lace choker. You could already feel the beginning of an ache in your feet from the heels that encased your ankle and enclosed your toes.

You stood outside the ballroom entrance door, trying to gather your breath. You would typically enter the ballroom with your guest, but Taehyung would be appearing later on with his father and mother- fashionably late as royalty demanded.

The moment you entered the ballroom, all eyes were on you along with a small murmur followed by an applause at the arrival of the lady of the hour. You just waved them calm before you took to mingling like a proper lady should. Speaking and greeting the visitors who took the time to come to your island home, you couldn't get your throat to unclog.

The anxiousness of singing, the dread of possible mistakes, the sorrow of not being able to dance with the rest of the ladies during the first dance and the ugly jealousy of whoever would be lucky enough to dance with Taehyung first. All of it stuck in your throat like a toad.

You jump when you feel a hand rest on the small of your back, getting your attention. You whirl around, ready to scold who dared to touch you so familiarly, but stopped short when you look up to Taehyung’s snake eyes.

“Prince,” you muttered. His hand that was on your back moved to rest on your waist in your hasty turn. He was dressed in a golden vest that matched his hair and compliments his eyes and scales. His white dress shirt beneath his vest was wrinkle-free and his trousers hung off his waist in perfection as the toes of his boots reflected the ballroom’s light. A royal blazer with embroidered shoulders and decorated lapels. His hair was brushed and parted, as soft looking as ever. You noticed a golden teardrop necklace with the chain tucked under his dress shirt’s collar as the gem rested on his chest.

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” he compliments. Your face is the same shade of your dress as you fiddled with your skirt. You took a breath and looked up to him with a smile.

“You look as handsome as always,” you told him, sincerity dripping off your tongue. You lifted your hand to toy with the necklace that was given to you. “Thank you for this,” you said. He in turn touched his own golden gem that was nearly identical to yours. You looked around, not seeing the king or queen in the ballroom yet. “Where are your parents?” You asked him as he just chuckled.

“I came early. I wanted to see you before the event started.”

“Oh,” was your instant reply to the soft smile on his face. You cleared your throat as you gathered your thoughts and changed the topic. “So, have you decided on someone to dance with while I sing?” You ask as cheerfully as you could muster. Your resolve faltered at the look the prince gave you without speaking. Maybe he hadn’t been asked yet?

“I won’t be participating in the first dance,” he declared with a slightly dipped brow. “Why would I, knowing that my fiance wouldn’t be my partner?” He grabbed your hand. “I will dance and mingle through the night just as I’m expected to, but if you cannot dance in the event’s opening, then neither will I.”

Your face grew rosy. His words were heavy on your heart and squeezed your chest like you were drowning. Would he ever be aware of just how much his words mean to you? Would he realize one day that everything he tells you and every praise he sings made you want to crumble under the weight of your unspoken, suffocating feelings?

Eventually, the elder royal couple of Serpent Castle had made their appearance and your presence was requested at the back of the room in preparation. As you spoke with the instrumentalists who would replace your voice through the remainder of the night after your song, you instructed them to stay silent and keep their instruments hushed until you were finished.

As the opening was announced, partners were grabbed, the floor was scattered with pairs and Taehyung stood behind you, his hands tucked informally into the pockets of his trousers as he watched your back. Then, you sang.

The hymn was something Taehyung hadn’t heard before. He had heard you sing up close before, often coming by the shrine at early morning or late evenings just to hear it clearly rather than through his serpent’s blood. He did not recognize this hymn, yet it resonated so clearly with his serpent counterpart as his blood felt like it was getting warmer behind his skin. It raised goosebumps on his skin under his clothes and made the hair on the back of his neck stand.

Whatever this new hymn was, it was immediately his favorite. The flutters it put in his chest made him remove his hand from his pocket just to push his palm against his breast. He felt his heart pound under his palm as he just stared at your back with wide eyes of awe.

When the hymn was over and the first dance of the evening concluded, there was a round of applause for your unparalleled performance and then the instrumentalists finally took over.

You felt a weight off your chest as you sighed in relief. You had performed well in your opinion. Not missing your notes or beat, but then again it would be harder to do an official hymn rather than the one you sung.

“Y/n,” you heard Taehyung call behind you. Turning, you saw his eyes shining brighter than usual- perhaps it was the ballrooms light gleaming in them. “That hymn, I hadn’t heard that before.”

“Oh, well it’s because I composed that hymn myself.” You opened your hand and started counting on your fingers. “I suppose it was a few weeks ago, but I have begun writing my own hymns- just to see if perhaps they would be as effective as those written in our books.” You lowered your hand back to your side. “I hope it wasn’t distasteful to you,”

“It was magnificent,” he breathed in truth. “I hope you sing it often so I may hear it.”

“I-,” you stuttered at the compliments, “of course. If that’s what you wish, then it shall be my Prince.”

Taehyung quickly reached for and took your hand, holding it tightly as he pulled you beside him. “Come,” he told you. Leading you out among the peoples in the rooms as they danced to the tunes played by the men who plucked strings and blew into flutes. “Be my first dance,” he smiled. “It may not be the first, but it shall be our first dance.”

Taehyung’s hand re-positioned in yours as his other rested on your waist as you gripped his shoulder and your feet were soon slotted beside each other. Your chest brushing against his as the next song had begun and your feet moved with the harp and flutes tune.

Taehyung spoke as you danced, speaking of the upcoming wedding and it’s preparations. The set up and guest attendance will be filled with all the people in the ballroom currently, leading to him telling you that they would all be staying on the island until the wedding had concluded. The ceremony was hopefully going to be quick and not a drawn out afternoon, as you got choked up just thinking about it.

Of course, the toughest part of it all would be vows.

Your vows specifically. You briefly wondered if in your vows that fateful day of union, you would admit to him finally that you had loved him for such a long time. Or, should you keep your secret locked up in your heart forever as to not ruin what could be a happy enough marriage. You shook your head, it was clearly Jungkook’s insistent pushing to make you confess getting to you. You had already made your mind up, you couldn’t change it now.

The song of harp and whistles ended and you almost immediately drew yourself away from your husband-to-be. Before he could reach out and stop you from retreating he was flocked with all sorts of visitors. Women asking to dance- to which he cannot refuse- and men wishing to converse of trade and business with him. He watched over a sea of heads as you ran off until he couldn’t see you anymore.

You had retreated to a wall hidden by a table with glass flutes of a sweet alcohol. Typically, you avoided the beverages, but just this once you decided to indulge just a little. It was a white wine, clear as crystal but not as delightful to drink as the fountain's shrine water.

“Good evening, My Lady,” a man addressed from beside you. You were unaware of his approach and his opening startled you. Turning, you saw a man who was undoubtedly from somewhere far inland you imagined. “I am Duke Lethan. I watch over a small country stead far from the coast of the mainland. I must say, your song earlier was beautiful.”

His flattery felt nothing like Taehyung’s words. His cheap words did not make your heart flutter or your stomach toss. Though, he was being kind and so as to not ruin the merry mood of the ball, you humored him- as much as you wanted to be left alone.

“Thank you very much, kind Duke.” You spent a small amount of energy carrying general conversation with the duke of the mainland as you kept your guard up. You never did trust the men from off the island, your recent visit abroad having one too many encounters with rude, entitled ones.

You smiled when you were cued to smile, and you laughed at his small attempts at humble humor, but you just wished for the conversation to end and him to be on his way. Instead, he began to persist in the idea of a dance with you.

Trying to politely decline the offer, he tried convincing you- obviously not taking no for an answer. Ready to put your foot down, merrymaking be damned, you felt that familiar hand on your back before it slid around to encase your waist and rest just above your white laced stomach. It was no surprise- or perhaps it was- to see Taehyung at your side as he held you to his chest.

“I do believe she’s already refused a dance. Go find a different partner if you would, Duke Lethan.” Not in a position of authority to begin to argue, the duke just lowered his head and went on his way into the crowd to find some other poor woman to give in to his pressure. “Y/n,” he called as you looked up at him from where you were once watching the duke retreat. “Dance with me again just once more.”

He had been watching you as soon as he could locate you after you left him after your dance. When that duke approached you and started making you smile, something in his chest lurched. He felt irked just knowing you were conversing so happily with a stranger and not with him. He was distracted as he danced with a lady from the mainland and he quickly left her abandoned mid-song at the look of distress on your face when the duke wouldn’t depart from your presence.

However, he would never disclose that to you. He didn’t even understand how he felt, all he knew was that he felt better when you were beside him like this.

“I’d be honored to dance with you again, my Prince,” you agreed with a smile up at him and the pain in his chest soothed instantly. You chalked it up to your imagination, but it felt like during this dance Taehyung held you tighter than before.

As the evening finally started dwelling down, guests started dismissing themselves back to their temporary rooms in the castle or back into town where their room in a local Inn was waiting for them. You were standing outside the ballroom, fiddling with your necklace. Exhausted from the evening of non-stop mingling and dancing.

Taehyung had pulled you away from a handful of men who seemed a bit ‘too interested in his fiance’, he claimed. You danced with him each time he did so.

“Y/n,” Taehyung called behind you. You startled, not expecting to be found in your little nook away from the dwindling down madness. He came to stand beside you, his golden eyes and scales seemed to grow faintly in the dimly lit halls of his castle. “Are you well?”

You felt a lot of things tonight. The burning eyes of mainland damsels on your back when you danced with the prince they knew they couldn’t even begin to woo because he simply didn’t give them the time. The watching eyes of older couples of tradition who thought it unjust for a simple priestess to marry into royalty. The sly eyes of men who wanted to dance to you and maybe catch a grip of something more- not that you’d allow that. And the squeezing of your heart whenever Taehyung held you and danced.

You sighed, making Taehyung take a step closer as he raised his arm to rest on your bicep, stroking it in comfort.

“I just,” you cut yourself off with closed eyes and a breath. “I’m just overwhelming myself and thinking about something.”

Taehyung moved to stand closer, grabbing your arm and hooking it around and under his own as his hip was next to you. He smiled down at you as he started walking forward, pulling you with him lightly.

“We’ll take a walk outside. Fresh air will help,” he told you in promise. Maybe the moonlight would shed away your worries- you could only hope. You were hardly aware of where Taehyung was leading you as you were so lost in your head. The fact that the man beside you was going to marry you in just a matter of days spiraled in your head like a hurricane. As did the doubt of if he even wanted to.

When you finally noticed you had been walking with him in silence for a while, you clocked back into reality and realized he had taken you back to the garden maze. This same maze is where you first truly realized you were in love with Taehyung and would be for the rest of your life- even if you were so young back then.

When you were in danger, and you sang- it was him who came running. It was him who found you in the maze and it was him who held you as you cried yourself into unconsciousness.

It was also this maze where you both sat just hours before that same day, talking in the sunlight that felt so comfortable. The spot where you realized you were going to marry your childhood playmate. Your one and only love interest and also your kingdom’s precious prince who was filled with serpent blood. It was this Taehyung who would be your husband and your feet stopped.

You halted in his step as your arm slipped from around his where it rested and he jerked when he felt it fall and slip away from him. He stood in front of you, half turned back to see your arm fall back to your side and your chin dipped.

The way the moon cast a shadow over your body should have been a romanticized look of an ethereal priestess, but the way you stood and avoided eye contact only made it grim. The prince felt his stomach twist as he straightened his back as you lifted your head to look directly at him for the first true time tonight.

His golden eyes widened a fraction at yours, seeing something in them waver and shake. It pinned his feet in place. Stood frozen in a half turned state, facing you as your fists balls behind the skirt of your dress, wrinkling the palm of your gloves.

“Be honest with me, Taehyung,” you called, foregoing his title and addressing him by name. It made his hair stand. “Are you going to be happy marrying me?” The prince parted his lips as he looked at you incredulously. Did you not want to marry him? Was that it? Was that what was weighing so heavily on your mind?

Ever since he could remember, ever since he got engaged to you so long ago in youth, he had known this day would come. He knew a celebration would come and a wedding would soon follow. He knew you were going to become his wife and a princess along with your priestess role. He had always known, and he had always been impatient waiting for all those moments to come. Now, they had and he was so caught up in himself and his own feelings- had he been wrong to think maybe you’d want to marry him too?

“Do you regret agreeing to marry me, perhaps?” He asked in answer to your question, still not giving you a proper answer. Your fisted hands uncurled just enough to ensnare your skirt’s cloth as you squeezed them shut once again.

“That isn’t it,” you harshly breathed. Denying so strongly that, that isn’t how you felt. “I’m- gods, I’m overjoyed that I get this chance. I am- just,” you took a calming breath. “I want to know if you’re doing this because you want to, or because your parents told you to.” You felt guilty, playing the card of his parents. He hadn’t often gone against their wishes because they were mostly reasonable people. You feared this engagement was just another order to him.

“You mean,” he stuttered, finally turning fully around to face you. Still not daring to step closer yet in fear you’d turn and run from the tense air. “You don’t know?” You flinched under his words, thinking for a split moment he was reaffirming that this was because his parents thought it was for the best. “I never knew you thought I didn’t want this marriage to happen. I’ve always been under the impression we agreed to this because we both wanted it.”

You looked at him with a twisted brow. What? What does that mean? Before you could ask him, a tear slid down his cheek. Falling over his golden scales from his equally as gold eyes. You gasped, stepping closer to him and the moment your hand caressed his cheek and your thumb touched under his eyes, he felt like he could breathe again.

“Why are you crying, my Prince? Don’t cry, please,” you pleaded. “I apologize, I should have kept it to myself,” you tried to fix the situation, but the hiccup that leapt from his throat at your words only seemed to worsen it all.

“Tell me,” he choked as he sniffed and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “How do you feel about me as a husband?”

“I-,” you hesitated. You could lie, tell him a fib to appease him. Though, if you did- you’d just be biting into your very own poison apple. You wouldn’t lie anymore. “I love you, and I do want to marry you. I have ever since we were little because I’ve always loved you, Taehyung.” The word vomit spilled out in quick sentences, thinking that the speed of the words would hurt less coming out.

The prince crumbled, his knees weakening as he grabbed your hands and pushed them further against his face. His palm covering the back of your hand as his crying grew louder. You panicked.

Taehyung fell to his perfectly ironed knees as he kept your hands on his face, weeping. You panicked above him as he reeled into his mind- coming to such sudden realizations. You had been the only constant in his life aside form his very own family. You were always beside him, helping him and learning with him. You helped him when you were little and you were helping him even now.

Since when did you really grow up? When did he fall in love with you?

He was so ignorant of his feelings, he had pushed them off as- he didn’t even know what. Perhaps, he’s always known- but was too cowardly to admit it to himself and confront that love. All while he sat in his ignorance, you were withering in your admission and acceptance to how you felt. For so long, you had been growing more tired and the ache in your chest just kept growing because of him.

He cracked his eyes open from their squeezed state when he felt your hand move under his to wipe his tears. Your figure was blurry, blending in with the moonlight in the maze when he snatched your wrist and yanked you towards him.

He sighed when you fell down against his chest. His breath stuttered with his exhale as he started to finally calm down.

“I promise to take better care of it,” he started in a stiff, nasally tone. “So, please, give your heart to me and I’ll give you mine in return.” When you stiffened in his hold, he tightened his arms around you, burying his face into your neck where you could feel the chill of his tears on your skin. “I love so much about you, I can’t think of where to begin. Let me be selfish one more time when I ask you to never stop loving me. Because, I don’t think I can stop loving you either.”

You’re not sure when your tears started falling, but there they were. Trailing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin as you rested against the prince’s shoulder. You just nodded, not trusting your voice.

The two of you sat, kneeling in the middle of this garden maze crying for what seemed like an eternity before you both finally were able to talk to each other without tears or hiccups. At the end of the night, Taehyung felt it far too difficult to let go of your hand when he walked you back to your room.

“Mother,” Taehyung rushed into his parents’ room where the queen was sat at the balcony window, a cup of tea in her hands raised to her lips. “Have you seen Y/n, this morning?”

“My, you seem to be in a hurry. Did something happen?” His mother’s question made the prince’s cheeks bloom before she was setting her cup down on it’s saucer before replacing it on the windowsill. “Did you finally admit that you loved the girl?” She chuckled as Taehyung’s chip dropped and his mouth opened.

“You knew?” He asked, astonished.

“Call it a mother’s instinct, darling.” She teased. “Plus,” she chuckled at the state of her son, “your shirt is half tucked in and your cloak isn’t properly clipped.” She rose from her chair and strode to her son’s front, properly latching the golden string across his chest to let the royal violet cloak rest on his shoulders like it should. “Must have been in a rush to see her, huh?”

“I suppose so,” he smiled down at the top of his mother’s head. “I’ve been putting her through so much during our years of engagement, I don’t want to be away from her when I don’t need to be.”

“That’s a big admission from the Serpent Prince, isn’t it,” she jokes as Taehyung smiled wider and shook his head. He knew she didn’t just see him as the ‘serpent prince’, and neither did his father. It was just a long running tease from when he confronted them about his ‘destiny’ when he was a kid- birthed from your young, innocent advice. His smile softened, another realization that opened in his mind of you. “Y/n was called for an early singular devotion. The waves were rough, so she set out to pray in the fountain at dawn.”

Taehyung stepped away from the queen, thanking her before kissing her cheek and rushing off. She just chuckled as she readied a story to tell the king when he came out of his morning shower.

The shrine was deathly quiet as he walked through the doors as quietly as possible. For single devotions, it was required for the center priestess or priest at the time of management to be alone in the shrine for prayers. It would heighten concentration of spiritual power.

As soon as he entered, he could feel your power flowing through the shrine's interior like ribbons. He was one of a small circle of people who could enter the shrine anytime without reason no matter the devotion or time- a perk of being the descent of the island god. He walked through to the center fountain and just as he figured, there you were.

Your back was to him as you were knelt in the fountain water. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your head was dipped, eyes shut and lost in your conscience. He leaned against a pillar, silent as he watched you. It was absolutely silent as you prayed, but he could stand there and watch you do nothing all day and be content.

He pushed off the pillar when you shivered and then gasped with a jolt. Losing your sense of balance, you teetered to the side, splashing your hand into the fountain to stop yourself from falling in completely. The water splashed up into your face and clung to your already soaked, white prayer robe.

He stopped mid step when you turned to look over your shoulder, seeing him there. He felt like he had just got caught in a crime, though he was technically not breaking any rules. He saw you exhale a breath, your rigid back deflating into a terrible sense of posture.

“It was just you, my Prince,” you breathed. You sat back up, moving to stand from your kneeling in the water as you turned to walk out of the fountain. Taehyung rushed to the fountain’s wall, offering you his hand as you took it and watched your feet as you stepped out.

Water followed you in a small wave when you hopped over the fountain wall and the shrine’s marble floor became wet as your robe dripped more water along it. Your robe was nearly translucent.

Taehyung could see the pink of your thighs and stomach all the way up to your ribs and around your back and bum. It was proper attire to only wear a single white robe and nothing more when in singular devotion- a reason as to why it had to be cleared of all others in the shrine was to keep the body of the priest or priestess hidden from other’s eyes.

He quickly unclipped his royal robe from it’s golden string and slung it off and around his shoulders to quickly wrap it around your wet body instead. You greatly accepted the cover, hiding your body and what could be seen behind it’s thick, warm fabric.

“What brings you here this morning?” You ask up to him, drops of water falling from strands of your hair. Taehyung smiled at you, lifting those wet strands and putting them over your shoulder before he leaned to quickly kiss you. When he stood up, you just covered your lips with your fingertips and a flushed face.

“I wanted to see you as soon as possible, that’s all.” He gently led you to sit on the fountain wall as he sat beside you and before you could call him cheeky, you both were conversing like before. Or, perhaps it was easier than before- talking to each other. “We’re getting married soon,” he happily reminded you as if you didn’t already start counting the days.

“I’m very aware,” you humor him as you pull the cloak further around your shoulders. Taehyung placed his head on your shoulder and days later, when the wedding was held he was anxious all day.

Unable to see you until the ceremony, he was restless while you were being groomed up and down, while Jungkook stood back and laughed, watching it all happen. The prince was able to breathe again when you stood beside him as vows were spoken and promises made with them.

You walked out of the shrine a married woman that afternoon. That evening, you slept beside your husband and you woke up, not only a priestess, but a princess too.

- END -

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