#madame please consider my hand in marriage

[healingfairy000000001]

The day that changed the sea.

Roger pirates x Reader

Type: arranged marriage, running away, controlling parents/fiancé, female reader, body dismorfia, eating disorder.

I suck at writing "Romance" (more like writing assholes).

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"your highness it's time for your scheduled tea time with your fiance" a maid no older than 20 said bowing down, "yes tell him I will be down soon" the Nobel woman said having her other servants help out with her clothes and hair.

Downstairs in the luxuries living room was duke Fredrik wasser was talking to Count L/N about wedding arrangment, "We promise you she is very pretty and wouldn't throw a fit about anything" Mr.L/N said rubbing his hands together his wife jumping in "and is a great house madam managing budgets and staff since she was 12!" Mrs.L/N told the potentian suiter, "I see" fredrik was familiar with this and knew not to trust the parents opinion since they will gloss up their kid.

"I salut Duke Fredrik wasser" he heard the door opening and the.....voice of an angel? Her parents weren't lying about one thing at least, "and you must be my bride to be? Doll face?" Fredrick stepped closer examening her bow and eteqite before taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

"It's a wedding!" Seemingly satisfied with his bride the parents and new fianceè shoo Y/N out of the room to decide the wedding and the money, Y/N happy that this went according to plan decided to go out with her maid and have some fun on the port.

"Isn't this beutifull martha?" Asked Y/N while strooling close to the port, "indeed your highness, but if you don't mind me intruding-"the maid wanting to question her lady's choice in accepting the marrige with a man she met for less than a minute got inturupted, "look! Martha new commers! Let's go say hi!" With a childish joy Y/N grabbed her maids hand and lead her to the small ship where they found two men, the first wearing a straw hat and the other reaking of alchool, the maid understandebly was worried of their identity, "my lady this is a bad idea" warned the maid but the lady ignored the warning walking up close in her heavy dress, "h-Hello there! My name is Y/N L/N and this is my friend martha, you must be new here!"said the young lady, "that's true! My name is Roger and this is my first mate Raylight!" The man in the straw hat intruduced himself getting on the port to give her a hand shake, the woman confused looked at her maid, "Martha why is he giving me his hand?" She whispered, "My lady that's a hand shake give him your right hand" whispered the maid back.

With excitment the woman shook his hand before looming at martha for confirmation nodding slightly, Y/N turned back to Roger, "so you guys are a crew? Where is the main boat? Since this is small", "bahaha! You must be curious, huh?" Asked roger, "If you wish you can tell me over lunch! My treat" invited the young noble.

"......And then Raylight attacked it with his sword killing it instantly!" Roger retold the story while eating his meal, "That's amazing! Sir Raylight that's incralable of you!" Complimented Y/N eating a small bowl of salad with a cup of tea while her maid helped herself to a fatty meal; "is that all your going to eat?" Asked Raylight, "oh! Please don't mind me, I need to watch my weight for my up-coming weding"she said it as if it was normal but her maid looked a bit upset by her lady's hunger strike, "my it seems you two love each other, huh?" Pointed Raylight sarcasticly, "Love? It's meerly political like an ass like him could Lov-", "-Martha, no it's beneficial to every one in this town" seemingly forgetting that they had guests the woman in question continued "so becoming a trophy wife to that assholes is also benefiting the tow-", before she finishes that sentence Y/N stand up turning to her guests, "I apologize for this ungodly appearance, please consider your food and shelter paid for, Martha take them to ST.moubt hotel" and with that she leaves.

Guiding the two towards the hotel Martha began regretting her words, "do you think I went too far?" deciding to ask the new fellas she went ahead "you'you've seen her! She doesn't even know what a 'hand shake' is and she wants to throw her life away so is pesky peasant can have lesser taxes!", Raylight feeling like this is none of their business but Roger felt otherwise, "sorry, but here use this to pay for the hotel and food" giving them a silver bendit with a flying bird on it she waved goodbye and left.

"your awfully quite today captain" drinking and looking out the window Raylight turned to his third bottle, "I can't let that happen" said Roger sitting on his bed, "you can't just let your life be thrown away like that" gripping his hand tightly he looked at his first mate, "you plan on objecting in the alter or what?" knowing he won't back down he chimed in, "no, running away sounds better" with saying that Raylight looked puzzled but won't get an answer till the morning after.

In another part of town a maid is knocking on her lady's door with a cup of tea, "My lady can I come in?" asked the maid, "Martha you know your always welcomed" chuckling she went in finding her friend looking at her mother's music box, "Y/N are you okay?" sitting down and pouring the hot beverage she answered "of course why won't I be?" she answered while taking the cup and smelling it, "well you only take out mom's music box when your sad", "Nana would've known what to do in this situation" though shaking a bit she sipped her tea, "and probably scolded me for my public outburst" said the maid with a smirk, looking at each other and bursting out laughing the two shared a moment of tranquility, "my lady you ought to run away" getting the subject serious again, "Martha, no I can't leave you or anyone here or else..." again her voice shatered and seemingly flooding with past memories her friend spoke again "what happened to mom won't happen to me" trying to comfort her shaken friend she continued, "Don't you want to see the sea again?" And with that Y/N finally broke down into tears.

The next morning Y/N decided to take a walk outside to check up on her guests and think about what martha said, "Roger good morning! How was the stay?" Seeing him in front of the hotel she waved at him, "well that thing you gave us worked like a charm!"he said enthusiacly, silent fell on them again, "why did you become a pirate?" She asked avoiding eye contact with him, Roger though puzeled answered with one of his famous grins "I want to turn the world upside down!" He said with a hart filled laugh; Raylight came out to see what's going on, "Roger please let me join your crew! Let me go live in the sea with you!" She yelled finally letting out what she belives the riskiest and propably the dumbist thing she did but roger only looked at her brifly before laughing out loud, "Sure I don't see why not" Roger agreed but Raylight seemed hesitant, but he can't defy Roger when he get's like this, celebrating this news she couldn't wait to tell martha the news......only if her parent's don't find out.

Sitting in her office she was thinking about what to do for this adventure, 'with my jewlery and saved up money I can help out with supplies, plus I can manage the finances, but I need to tell martha first and say goodbuy to Nana's husband, plus pack some clothes' she was excited day dreaming about similar adventures to the ones she heard, until, SLAM! her father barged in "you ungratful whore! Who was that man!" Yelled her father as her mother closed the door, "Father wha-" she tried to understand what's happening, "Not another word, you think this is a game? Go and hang around that ugly man? How could you do this to your father! Look at your poor mother" he started berating her before pointing at her crying mother, usualy she would cave in but not this time, "so how could this father sell his daughter out because he can't close his wallet to anyone!" She snapped back at a price.

The sound of a loud thud and glass breaking was the last thing the pirate to be heard before losing concesnous.

Someone came in...who is it? "My lady! Your awake!" Screamed the maid hugging her close, but the lady had other things in mind, "the wedding it's tomorrow! What do we do!" Letting out the grim reality expecting her to react in some way, but she remaind calm, "Martha it's time to crash a wedding".

(Wow your still here DAMN you found this intresting enough to read till here, I am honored, here have a GIF as a gift)

Running to the churche where the wedding was being held felt Roger a rage he hadn't felt in a while, Raylight was preparing the small ship to leave while he had the task of getting the new member back.

'Where is he!' She thought standing in front of her soon to be husband, "I OBJECT!!" yelled Roger as he slamed the door open, loud gasps filled the room as well as more guards, "you came!" She said some tears at the corner of her eyes still holding the bouquet she ran towards him but was stoped by her fiancee. (A fight scene Roger beating the shit out of the guards and scaring the fiancee enough for him to let go of Y/N)

Running in a torn apart wedding dress being chased by her parents and guards was never a thing not even in her wildest dreams but here she is clutching the music box previously held in her bouquet towards the boat, "GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANCE!" Was among the many lines that drowned by the sound of laughter among Y/N and Roger, waving goodbuy to the chef and Martha she ched a few tears as before looking forward towards a brighter future.

.

.

.

.

Anticipating a reaction all there is was two faces full of disappointment, "that's it?" Said shanks, "this is lame, I thought you'd do something cool!" Added buggy, "well I told you the music box and how I joind this crew were not exiting stories" she shook her shoulders before standing up from the cafe table and starting to walk away, "so who was the chef anyway?" Asked shanks, "Nana's husband, he would sneak me snacks through Martha sometimes"........ though this seemed like a ditante memory now her joyfull rant's and their teasing was something he didn't expect to miss yet here he is drinking it away..........~~~~

[sourkannas]

Loosely inspired by villainess manhwas I've read.

Sukuna x reader kinda (not a lot in here if any at all), reader refered to as 'Madam', existence and use of concubines, can be considered isekai but not for reader, pregnancy, reader is a little mean

Being Sukuna's wife barely gave you any perks, he didn't love you more, he didn't care more, you were just a means to an end. He still had concubines, still ate people and barely went to you out of his own volition.

These acts didn't mind you, with the bar being in hell for him, this was a plus. You didn't have to do chores, which was really the only plus of this marriage besides your own servants, serving you mostly and Sukuna if he asked for them.

The concubines and your relationship is fine, now at least, you've come to realize that most of them were women who had no other choice, this was a better arrangment than living on the streets. The women were convinced you were going to throw them out and were pleasently surprised when weeks passed and you didn't.

It wasn't uncommon for Sukuna to lay with the concubines, the fact didn't bother you. If anything, it pleased you. Any heir would be demanded by your family and your worst enemy wouldn't deserve this.

But this time was different, the words that Uraume had told you rang in your mind like an incessent buzzing.

"A—a concubine is with child?" You asked again, Uraume had a pinch of annoyance in their face at your repeated question. "From, lord Sukuna?" You ask, Uraume nodded.

"Who else would it be?" Uraume answered your question with on of their own, but you didn't mind the sass. "Yes, it's Lord Sukuna's, fornicating with other men is a death penalty." They say, for the nth time, studying your laxed position. "Any problems?" They're eyes narrow, like a silent promise.

You scoff in amusement, waving your hand. "Of course not, I'm just surprised." You giggle, eating your breakfast happily. "Send my regards to the mother." You chime, cu55⁵tting up your food.

Uraume raised a brow. "The to be mother wants to see you, now." They say blandly, like this is just another order. You sigh and finish your food, wiping your mouth.

"Why? I don't have a gift if that's what she wants." You mumbled, wracking your head for any gift ideas.

Uraume rolled their eyes. "She just wants to see you." They say and before you bother them with more questions, they leave and come back with the woman, black hair, blue eyes, a simple robe covering her body. Uraume leaves soon after, leaving just you and the woman.

You guesture to the seat opposite of you. "Don't stay standing, sit sit." You hum, the woman quickly sits opposite of you, she seemed, squirmish, like a rat, or a bug. "Congratulations, I hear your with child Mrs....?" You give her a look.

The woman perks up. "Oh uhm, Kira, my name is Kira." She said quickly, still stiff before her face hardens. "I—I need a favor." She said, gripping her lap.

Your eyes widen slightly, asking for a favor on the first meeting, though you can't say you hated the bold.

"Oh my," You hum, stirring your tea. "That's a little ill-mannered, can't you ask how I am first?" You joke, chuckling softly, but Kira doesn't seem very amused, frowning instead.

"I'm sorry madam, but I..." She takes a pause, looking away before turning to you with a determined look. "I need to become Lord Sukuna's wife!" She yelled, standing up, shocking the maids standing near the wall and even yourself.

You blink once, then twice, then a third time but your lackluster reaction didn't stop Kira.

"I'm sure you love him—" You don't, you love the privledges you got by being his wife. "—but I'm having Lord Sukuna's heir! I should be his wife!" She said eagerly, slamming her hands on the table, looking you dead in your eyes. Your mouth open and closes like a fish out of water.

"I know your jealous—" You'd like to think your above jealousy. "—And maybe you want him!" You can't remember the last time you wanted a man in any capacity besides amusement or plain bullying. "But, Lord Sukuna is mine!" She yelled, there's a small thud outside, a servant no doubt falling over at the noises coming from your room. Not to mention your maids weren't very welcoming.

"Is—is she serious?"

"Maybe madam is pranking us...?"

"Oh, she has been into those light novels lately, maybe it's that?"

Your face tightens, to think your growing like of light novels is being used against you. You snap back into reality as Kira began to poke you.

"Watch the finger," You say, sighing as you rubbed your forehead. "You...you do know Lord Sukuna can take on multiple wives, yes?" Kira nods, her hair bouncing in waves. "Then, then why do I have to leave?" You ask, tilting your head in annoyance.

Kira, for all her faults (which your thinking might be endless) looked as determined as can be, staring straight at you.

"It isn't common for the woman having the heir to be the second wife!" She said sternly, while you could name 8 people that had wives that went up to the twelfth be the ones to give them children, you stay quiet.

"Even if that is, what makes you think I'll leave?" You ask, sipping your tea again, Kira looks shocked and her hands shook.

"Shouldn't..." Her voice trailed off as she began to shake in anger. "Shouldn't you want to help me?! I'm giving your husband a child!" She yelled, panting from using her lungs so much.

Your lips form a thin line. "Even if I wanted to divorce Lord Sukuna, I can't." You say plainly, standing up and brushing off your robes of any dust. "If he wanted me gone, he'll just kill me." You say, like this was common knowledge, (it was, but you didn't think Kira was all that knowledgeable) but Kira only grit her teeth.

"Then, I'll have to be the second wife?" She asked breathlessly, to which you nod, for some reason, looking at her gave you a odd feeling in your throat. "But, but..." She collaspes to her knees, all the mood swings were making it hard to take everything in, so you didn't.

"Don't worry Kira," You coo, a hand under her chin to force her to look at you. A grin spreads across her face and Kira hates the sight. "I know how to share~" You chime, eyes half lidded in amusement before you stand up. "You've said your piece, now leave." You hum, walking back towards the bed.

Kira doesn't know when she was standing up and standing in front of the door, two of your maids flanking her. She never felt so unwelcome, the othet concubines were guarded yes, but she never felt so alone.

"Oh, Kira?" You call out and she stiffens, her heart beat thumping loudly, she can only imagine what type of horrid grin you have. "I probably said it already," You say, voice soft and relaxed, your steps drawing nearer until your chin was resting on her shoulder. "Congrats on the pregnacy." You chirped and Kira all but ran out of the room.

You tilt your head and gasp. "Oh my! She must've been tired." You say, shaking your head as you turn to your maids. "I think I should take a bath." The maids break from their confused shock and nodded.

"Yes madam!" They say in unison, helping you into the bathroom.

Sitting in the warm tub of water, you frown, thinking about the interacting between you and Kira. You had been sent, like Sukuna, every letter from families or women themselves asking to be Sukuna. Most times, Sukuna would let you take the reigns, something about you having good judgement. But you never got a letter from Kira or about a Kira. Maybe, maybe you overlooked something?

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {8}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life has been messy. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy and cannot wait to hear what you think! Thank you for reading. x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Dear Sir or Madam,

You are cordially invited to a masquerade ball at the Mandray Manor on Starlight Avenue on the twentieth of April. Wear your finest mask and arrive before midnight to dance the night away.

>.<.> Nesta >.<.>

“The ball is in nine days. We are meant to create a United front, show the ton that we are happy. Yet, you will miss it, leaving me to play host alone.”

I think it’s the most words I have spoken at once to Tomas, especially in such a tone, but once I’ve begun I can’t seem to stop. “Can you truly not return a few days early?”

I try my best to ignore the fire in his eyes and the way it makes my back stiffen. I would not be afraid of this man. I cannot be afraid to stand my ground.

At least that’s what I tell myself as he takes a step toward me. “Wife.” That one word that should be full of nothing but love is flung at me with hostility. “My wife, with your lavish homes and beautiful gowns. You can have whatever you want, whenever you want it, and do you know why that is?”

I may be headstrong, but I’m not foolish enough to answer a question of his that he doesn’t intend to have answered. 

“You have your life because of me,” he says, tilting up my chin with his knuckle. He’s not gentle. “You are not allowed to complain. You are not allowed to be unhappy. You are, however, allowed to shut that pretty little mouth of yours and do as you're told. I have told you when I will return. Until then, you will make sure that the ton believes my absence from this ghastly affair is a complete necessity. Is that understood?”

I stare at him.

He drops his hand and takes a step back, clearly pleased with himself. “Ensure it’s a success.”

With that, he turns toward the door and my tongue has a mind of its own. “You are a poor excuse for a husband.” 

He stops, just short of the threshold, and his body grows taut. I instantly regret my words, but I shouldn’t. I should not be afraid to speak my mind. I should not have to fear the power of my words. I should be able to voice my opinions, and in a loving, healthy marriage, I would be able to.

Of course, in a loving, healthy marriage, I would not have to voice these opinions. I would not have these opinions at all.

When Tomas turns to me, I fight the urge to run. With all the strength I can muster, I lift my chin and stand my ground. 

“Apologies,” he says, sauntering back towards me. “I am afraid that I misheard you.”

This was the moment. I could either lie and apologize and hope he shows mercy, considering he heard my statement clearly. Or, I could continue to stand my ground.

This is when I think of him.

I think of him always being there around every corner with that stupid little grin of his as he towers above me. I think of his kind words and the way I shared my macarons with him when we shared my coach. I think of the heat between us as we stand so close, too close for a married woman to be standing by a gentleman. I think of him, his beauty, his kindness, the temptation. 

“I am a woman,” I say, trying my best to make my voice remain still. “I am a human being who deserves to be treated with respect. You are cruel. You want a wife to flaunt around like a trophy, a woman to have on your arm for the sake of image, someone to order around and control.” I swallow, my hands turning into fists at my side. “But I am not a woman to be controlled. I am tired of playing this role. I am tired of being at your beck and call. I am sick of being a slave to this marriage when you do not take it seriously, take me seriously. Our marriage vows do not mean a damn thing to you, and I am the one who suffers because of it.” 

He’s close to me now. The air has grown thick. We are in the midst of battle and, if I am being honest, I cannot tell who has the upper ground. 

He opens his mouth, and I think he’s about to say something, to demean me, to threaten me, but then he moves.

My cheek burns as his palm makes contact with my skin.

Immediately, my eyes blur but I beg myself not to cry. It’s a natural reaction for one’s eyes to water when getting slapped, but I fear my hurt comes from somewhere deeper. 

It’s not because I love him.

Of that I am sure.

Perhaps it’s because the life that I lost, the life that could have been, a joy that will never be reached but will always be wondered about. 

Tomas grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me close to him. I cry out, but he doesn’t seem to care. Or, maybe he doesn’t even notice. 

“I don’t know who you think you are,” he hisses. “Without me, you’d be nothing but a whore in a little town that no one has ever heard of. You should be bowing down to me, worshiping at my feet.” His grip tightens and I bite my tongue to keep from whimpering. “You’d better learn your place before you come to regret it. I can ruin you as quickly as I’ve made you.” 

The urge to spit in his face is overwhelming but I ignore it as I always do. 

“Now, be a good little wife and tend to your list of duties for the ball while I prepare for my leave,” he says, finally letting me go. 

He doesn’t look back at me as he leaves the room, not even acknowledging the fact that he just tore me to pieces and left me alone to put myself back together. Except I don’t. I remain shattered but I straighten my back anyways. I lift my chin and take a deep breath before following my husband’s instructions. 

The staff doesn’t look at me all afternoon.

That way, it’s easier to ignore the blooming red splotch on my cheek. 

~.~.~

>.<.>Cassian>.<.>

After going back and forth with myself (and my brothers) for days, I find myself stepping out of my coach and falling into the line of people walking into the Mandray residence. I had a new jacket made just for this occasion, and I have no idea why I care so much. Even if it seems Nesta and I cannot keep away from one another, and there is clearly a pull between us, she made herself clear with me. She is true to her husband.

Even if she cannot stand him. 

I hardly notice the house and its occupants as I enter the manor. Music has already begun to play and there are people dancing, which makes me think I am one of the last to arrive. 

I see Nesta nowhere.

Nor do I see Tomas. 

After securing my mask, I grab a champagne flute off a tray being carried by a passing server. I sip it once and instantly wish it was bourbon. I drink it nonetheless.

For all the utter shit they had given me, I don’t see Azriel or Rhysand. Although, the latter does like to be late to make a dramatic entrance. Not Azriel. He prefers to blend into the shadows. 

“Lord Cassian.”

I spin around only to frown at the man in front of me. Lord Tarquin and I had never truly been friends, but there was a time that he didn’t hate me as much as he does now.

I set his library on fire once and the bastard never forgave me.

“Lord Tarquin,” I begin, clearing my throat. I give him a cocky grin that makes his eyes narrow. “A pleasure. I haven’t seen you in years. Back in Velaris?”

“Only for the season,” he says, nodding towards a young woman who is dancing with a gentleman. “I’m serving as my cousin, Cresseida’s, chaperone now that she is of age.” 

I remember Cresseida, although she’s nearly a decade younger than me. She was nothing but a child when poor Tarquin’s collection of war novels went up in flames.

“I’m certain she will find a husband quickly.” As the words escape me, she sweeps into the room. She’s wearing a dress of midnight blue and a gold, lace trimmed mask that covers the upper half of her face, but I know it’s her. “She’s lovely.” 

“Indeed,” Tarquin says, and I completely forgot he was by me. “But, apologies, I must deny her anyone who has ever set a portion of my home on fire.”

My eyes snap from Nesta to Tarquin, who is watching me with a raised brow. I clear my throat. “Oh, I…wasn’t showing interest. Cheers.”

I walk away before he can say anything else, although I’m sure he hates me more now than he did five minutes ago, which is saying something.

Not that I give a damn.

I try to cross the room to Nesta but she’s fluttering about, making her rounds as hostess. I follow her around the room nonetheless until she exits out the doors to the patio. Once I make it there and the cool night air hits my skin, she’s nowhere to be found. 

I frown.

A couple of partygoers are scattered about, laughing and sipping champagne. I don’t give any of them a second glance as I walk across the patio and down the stone steps, into the garden. She couldn’t have gone far, one would think, but as I scan the deserted garden before me, I second guess myself.

Maybe she had seen me and is attempting to flee from me. In that case, I’m nothing but a creep and a scoundrel. 

I freeze, halfway between two lines of tall shrubbery, and contemplate my thoughts before starting to turn around.

“Cassian?”

I stop. Stop walking, stop breathing.

Her golden mask is nearly all I can see in the moonlight but it’s enough to make my mouth go dry. I ignore the need to rush to her, to where she stands in perfect view after rounding the corner.

Neither of us says a word, but the air between us is thick. 

“I was not sure if you would come,” she says, her voice quiet but I hear every word with perfect clarity.

“I couldn’t stay away,” I say, the words escaping me before I can think better of them. “I know I should, but I cannot seem to.”

“Is that why you’re out here?” she asks, as my eyes drift to the quick rise and fall of her bosom. “Because you cannot stay away? Or, is it just a happy coincidence that we have once again run into one another in the garden?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was a coincidence?” I ask, taking a step towards her. She does not move.

She almost smiles as she says, “No.”

“Good, because that would be a lie,” I confess, continuing to make small strides to where she stands between the bushes. “You have put on a lovely party, my lady.”

“My lady?” she asks, humored. 

“You always seem to get angry with me when I am inappropriate, so I thought it wise to use your title,” I say, although I cannot stop my widening grin. I take a sip of the gods-awful champagne. “May I ask, my lady, while you are wandering the grounds alone during your own ball?”

The humor in her eyes dims as she says, “Tomas is the one that the ton likes. It is hard playing hostess all alone for a crowd who dislikes me. I just needed a break, so I thought it best to come out here to clear my head.”

“Alone?” I ask.

She nods. “You don’t know? Tomas is out of town on business.” 

I swallow. “I see. When is he supposed to return?”

“He was supposed to come back Tuesday, but a letter arrived this morning saying that he is currently unsure of his return date. I suppose we shall see.”

“And he left you here to do this alone?” I ask, a sudden burst of anger flooding my body.

She shrugs, and the unladylike gesture captures my attention in the most satisfying of ways. “I must confess that I prefer his absence.” Her mouth snaps shut as if she knows she just admitted something that she should not have. “Forgive me.”

“For what?” I breathe. I am standing so close to her now that she has to look up to meet my gaze. Yet, she still has not moved. 

“For speaking freely,” she says, quietly. 

“I wish you would speak freely,” I say, wanting to reach towards her but refraining. “It would allow me to not have to constantly be wondering what’s going through your mind.” 

“Is that something you are constantly worrying about, my lord?” she asks, that humor returning to the depths of her eyes. “What is on my mind?”

If I am what’s on your mind, yes. “I must admit I’m curious.”

I don’t miss the way her eyes dart to my lips. In fact, I track the movement very carefully, track the way her mood shifts, track how her cheeks flush and her breathing grows ragged.

“Is that so?” she asks. “And why is that, my lord?”

“Cassian,” I say, and our fingers brush between us. “Call me Cassian, please.”

“Cassian.” The way she says my name is barely audible but it sets me on fire. “I must admit that I’m curious, as well. Will you share what it is on your mind?”

“You do not wish to know what’s on my mind,” I say, and our fingers brush again.

That gentle sensation will be the death of me. 

“Why not?” 

“If you feel our being together in close proximity has been inappropriate, I assure you that what is on my mind is far from innocent.”

Her lips part and her lashes flit. I’m tempted to remove the mask from her face so I can see her clearly in all her beauty, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. Whatever is happening between us is fragile, delicate, and I don’t want it to disappear too quickly. 

“Don’t let that stop you,” she says, and I nearly curse as our hands brush once more. “I’m having a horrendous night, please grant me some reprieve.” 

I swallow the words on the tip of my tongue. This time, when the back of my hand meets her satin glove, it’s intentional. “I am thinking that, under different circumstances, I would ask you to dance. And I would scare off any other man that tries to get in my way.”

“No one likes jealousy.”

“Your tone suggests otherwise,” I say, and reach up to brush my finger softly up her glove, letting it linger where it meets her skin. She sucks in a breath and lets her eyes close. My finger continues dancing across her skin. She’s warm beneath my touch. I stop at the hem of her sleeve and let my hand fall back down to my side. The second my touch leaves her, her eyes snap open and lock on mine. 

“Pardon me, my lord—”

“Cassian.”

“Cassian,” she continues, “I’m feeling unwell.”

“How so?” I ask, unable to help myself. I am not a dumb man, I know what is happening here. But I have to hear her say it. 

“I should get back to my guests,” she replies, simply, breathlessly. 

“You do not want to get back to your guests,” I say, knowing it's the truth. 

She doesn’t deny it. 

“You’re trying to avoid me,” I continue, “because it is what you should do.”

She doesn’t deny it.

“But you don’t want to,” I finish. “Do you?”

She hesitates, and just when I’m afraid she won’t say anything, she says, “What I want does not matter.” 

“You must stop telling yourself such lies,” I say, and I cannot keep the passion out of my voice any longer. Her eyes are locked on mine, her chest is flushed, her breathing is shallow. I can see every thought running clearly across her face but she refuses to voice them. “You deserve to feel joy. Wanted. Pleasure.” 

Her eyes roll back, her lashes flutter, and I am so undeniably hard that it’s growing painful. I reach up to touch her once more, my palm resting idly against her cheek, and she leans into me. We don’t move. I allow her to revel in the simplicity of gentle human contact even though it’s testing my restraint. 

“You mustn’t encourage this,” she says, eyes still closed, her tone betraying her. “I do not deserve—”

My thumb brushes along her jaw and her words fade away as her eyes snap open and meet mine. I’ve come closer without even realizing it. Our bodies, perfectly aligned, are nearly pressed up against one another. Our breaths mingle together in the mere inches that separate us. Her eyes fall to my mouth then back up to my own. The need in her gaze is overwhelming.

Our noses brush, but just when I can nearly taste her, a high-pitched fit of laughter breaks the silence. 

Suddenly, Nesta looks both poised and pissed as she pushes me away and hurries off, completely out of sight before I can even collect my thoughts. A duo of ladies comes around the corner and smile as they see me, the man standing along among the shrubbery with the outline of his cock perfectly on display for all to see. They whisper something to one another and giggle as they pass.

I wait until I’m completely alone before walking the path back to the party, but I don’t come across Nesta once. Instead, I call for my coach and shut myself inside before finding release on my own. 

Again. 

[foxblood]

The Threads of Memory: I Matchmaker

Chapters: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25

Morena sat in the seat across from Madame Toussau in her parlor with her shoulders tight and face slightly pinched, sipping from a teacup decorated with delicate pink ropes of petals belonging to no specific flower.  Her eyes fell upon the matchmaker, narrowed in skepticism, and took in the lush pinks and oranges of her dress that seemed to affront the neatly kept sitting room’s airy blues and greens.

Madame Toussau waited for Morena’s assessment, always best to let the client find the first words.  Especially one as particular as this mother -- single mother, if the portrait of herself and four children on the wall was any indication.  

Morena finally set her cup down on the saucer.  “Please, drink your tea,” her command practiced, and Madame Toussau found the cup in her hand as soon as Morena asked.  Morena continued, “if I may be frank with you madame, a matchmaker is my last resort.  This process brings me no pleasure, but I’ve tried every avenue to return my son Gale to society.  There is no more I can do on my own, and so I am forced to --” she rolled her wrist, “-- If he will not make social connections, then I must make them on his behalf.”

“So, are we seeking a spouse?” Madame Toussau asked.

Morena gave a curt shake of her head.  “I will not impose such a thing upon him.”

Madame Toussau finished her tea and set the cup down.  Morena filled it again, topping her own cup up as well.  Madame Toussau considered the lines of Morena’s face, the worry pulling at her mouth.

“Then a companion,” Madame Toussau ventured, “someone he may get along with, avoiding the mention of marriage.”

“You are capable of such a thing?” Morena watched her face for any twitch or doubt.

“Under the correct circumstances.  Why don’t you tell me about your son?” Madame Toussau prompted.

Gale leaned back in his desk chair, massaging the expanding ache in his chest.  He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the expansion of his lungs with each slow breath he took.  Sometimes, the orb eased away if he just let it file its complaints and breathed through the ordeal.  Sometimes it would spasm like a crack of thunder through his ribs, hungry and threatening to suck him and the whole of Waterdeep into the abyss if it was not fed.  This, this was just a grumble.

The ceiling beams melted together in his vision when he opened his eyes.  His pulse throbbed hard in his neck, and he missed the first knock at the door because it mixed with the sound of blood in his ears.  He muttered a curse when he heard the second knock, fumbling for the drawer in his desk where he kept the enchanted trinkets Tara managed to pilfer and picking apart the tangled chains of amulets.

The orb throbbed harder, reaching for the weave within the locket.  Gale pressed it to his bare skin, the magic peeling his flesh away and sucking the locket dry of magic until it was hot in his fingers.  He tossed the spent thing beneath his desk and wiped the sweat from his forehead before answering the door with black spots still dotting his vision.

“Mother?” his vision resolved on Morena’s stout frame, then on the tall and thin outline of a second woman, “and a guest,” he smiled politely, “to what do I owe the honor?”

Morena’s eyes stared pointedly past him and into the flat.

Gale stepped aside.  “Please, come in.  I apologize for the mess, I wasn’t expecting company,” he bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek as she stepped across the threshold, “should I make some tea?”

“That would be best, Gale,” Morena’s voice assured him that what followed would not be a request, “I must discuss something with you.”

Peiotr cleared his throat for the third time, his legs dangling uncomfortably off the rattan chair not built for dwarves.  Velim barely glanced at him, tapping the page of their notebook with their pen to feel the muted round of it against the barrier of their fine lambskin gloves, and laid down another line of notes about the ins and outs of matchmaking as Madame Toussau had described.  A loose strand of dull brown-black hair fell out from their ponytail and they tucked it behind their ear.

“Should I not be the nervous one?” Velim teased in their trademark deadpan.

Madame Toussau chuckled, disguising her laughter with a cough when Peiotr’s nose grew redder.  “It’s not unusual for those doing the matching to experience more nerves than the matched,” she assured Peiotr, reaching to squeeze his hand across the table.

“And you’re my agent, not my father,” Velim reminded him as the flush reached his ears.

Peiotr crossed his arms.  “I just want to see him for myself.”

Velim glanced at the clock tower peeking above the buildings.  “Might have decided against it, he’s late.”

“Perhaps nerves on his part, too,” Madame Toussau chimed.

“You intend to get lost once he arrives, don’t you, Peiotr?” Velim asked, dotting a spot of ink on his freckled arm.

He scoffed and tried to wipe the ink away, leaving a black smudge on himself.  “Aye,” he grunted.

Madame Toussau straightened up, her long neck craning over the crowd on the street.  “There he is,” she waved to a man making his way through the crowd.

The man gave her a shy wave back, and Velim closed their notebook to catch a better look at him.  Brown hair slicked back, brows drawn close in concern and a couple weeks’ worth of a beard, tall enough to see over the crowd and well-dressed in the way of a man who stepped out of the house too quickly to consider pressing his shirt.

Peiotr hopped down from the chair as Gale jogged up the stairs with a breathless apology prepared.  Peiotr intercepted him before he reached the table.

“Peiotr Ironfoot,” he extended his hand and shook Gale’s in a crushing grip that left his niceties a pained grimace, “Velim’s agent, good to meet you Mr. Dekarios.”

“Peiotr,” Velim leaned forward on the table and waited for him to look at them so they could mouth “get lost” as they wiped the remaining ink off their pen.

Peiotr cleared his throat and released Gale’s hand, glancing back up at the man’s face, but he was already fixated on Velim.  He met their muddy green eyes and looked away as though burned, then looked back and ran a hand through his hair.

“Shall I get us some coffee?” he asked, “my treat, for making you wait.”

Velim sat back in their chair, assessing him.  “Sure.”

“Nothing for me, thank you, Gale,” Madame Toussau said, “I do no indulging on business.”

“Not even coffee?” Velim asked, flashing the sharp white canines wood elves sometimes possessed.

“Not even coffee, sera,” Madame Toussau made a shooing motion at Velim, “now, you know the rules.  Behave as though I am not here at all.”

“A difficult thing to do,” Velim commented, ignoring her rules as Gale glanced back at them one last time before ducking into the cafe, “where did you find him, anyway?”

Madame Toussau laughed soft, like windchimes.  “I could ask you the same.”

“Peiotr?  He’s the only stranger willing to take a chance on me based on the letter I wrote him, that’s all,” they waved her questions away, “how’d you make your way into matchmaking?”

Madame Toussau scanned Velim’s still face, their skin smooth and flawless when they dropped the practiced facial expressions.  “I used to be a madame of a different sort,” she watched for a reaction.

“Got sick of making yourself the match, then?” Another practiced half-smile.

Madame Toussau restrained herself from scolding Velim for their packaged expression.  If the pair was good, they would begin to emote properly.  Gale returned with two espressos in small cups and a glass full of water, which he placed in front of Madame Toussau.

“Forgive me, my mother raised me better than to leave a lady without refreshment of some kind,” Gale apologized as he sat across from Velim.

Velim took the chipped cup of espresso from the center of the table, long fingers domed over the top so the steam billowed into the palm of their hand and held it like that on their side of the table until Gale sipped his.  They savored the rich warmth against the chill of the encroaching autumn, then set it down with their fingers still resting on the rim.

“I’m sure I’ve been a topic of discussion already as punishment for my tardiness,” Gale began, “but I know very little about you.  This whole process happened in such haste, I hardly remembered your name when I stepped out the door today.”

“Velim, if you need the reminder,” they said, “half-retired Vulture, surgeon, and author.”

“Of course, Velim,” he rolled their name around in his mouth, matching the sound of it to their placid face, “a Vulture, you said?  With the Waterdeep Public Health Corps, I’d imagine?”

Velim inclined their head, urging him on.

“A perilous occupation, how long have you been in it?”

They tapped on the table, counting the years.  “15 years, give or take.”

“15 years?” Gale’s eyes widened.  Madame Toussau also took notice of the statement and leaned in.  Gale stuttered out an excuse for his disbelief, “Gods, are you under some divine protection?”

Velim shrugged.  “Perhaps just lucky, there are more of us highly tenured plague doctors than you may expect.  ‘One who lives the first two years will live another ten,’ the saying goes,” they changed the subject, “I hear you’re a researcher at Blackstaff.”

“Once, but no longer,” he held his espresso in front of his mouth, a barrier between himself and Velim’s probing gaze, “one could say I’ve been on an extended sabbatical.”

“What did you research?” Velim pushed past his shield.

“Ah, well, have you ever heard of the Empire of Netheril?” Gale asked, “I don’t imagine your personal studies take many forays into archaeology.  It once soared above where the deserts of Anauroch sit today.”

Velim leaned forward.  “I know very little about Netheril,” they admitted, “an empire based on magic with floating cities.  That’s about all.”

Gale set his espresso down and seemed to forget about it as he flourished his hand in introduction.  “Then you may be interested to learn that the current state of magic in Faerun -- and, indeed, the world over -- is connected intimately with the fall of Netheril wherein the Archwizard Karsus attempted to wrest control of the weave from Mystryl and destroyed him entirely in the process.”

“Himself, or Mystra?” Velim cocked their head to the side.

“Mystryl,” Gale corrected, “the god of magic before Our Lady of Spells, and the reason we mortals have the limits we do with her arts.”

“Mystryl,” Velim glanced up at the gutter around the roof of the building, where an intrepid pigeon cooed and eyed the finger sandwiches on a neighboring table, “can you find remnants of those floating cities in Anauroch?  I imagine you could, deserts preserve such things.”

“Well, yes, but my particular area of study lies elsewhere at the moment,” Gale bloomed under the rain of their questions, “I’ve been studying the works of an Archmage known as Ortenkus who lived some thousand years before Karsus’ folly.  He was instrumental in the annexation and settlement of the western border of the empire, near the Silver Marches.  Recently, I’ve been investigating a tale regarding a military victory he wrought.  During Ortenkus’ lifetime, a small nation whose name has long since been lost became a wall to Netheril by somehow inverting their magic.”

Velim’s mind added a new observation to their catalog with every word he spoke, relieved that they might observe him unwatched while he spoke.  The spinning wheel earring he wore had no mechanism for removal.  He reeked of magic, and it crackled over them as static because he spoke with gestures pronounced enough to waft it over them from across the table.  Every few seconds, he stole a glance at them with a kind of bashfulness in his eyes as though asking for permission to continue.

Gale continued on, a train rolling down the tracks of his thoughts.  “Ortenkus, as the main strategist for the King at the time, was tasked with laying the nation low.  He spent twenty years and twenty days in the great libraries of Palter -- an enclave known even among the Netherese as a bastion of knowledge -- and when he emerged, he descended to the earth with a strange egg.  He disguised himself as an old man and walked into the foremost bastion of the country, left the egg beneath the center of their government, and walked back to Netheril. 

“Within a year, the country lay in disarray without even the knowledge that they were once allies with any of the other groups within the land.  The infighting destroyed them, and with each fracture Ortenkus led the armies of Netheril in to seize the lands.”

“Wait a moment,” Velim interrupted.

Gale’s speech stuttered to a stop.

“How, exactly, did Ortenkus initiate memory loss on such a mass scale?  The erasure of an entire culture suggests psionic impact on the level of…” they trailed off, unable to think of a comparison, “well, regardless, what could mediate such a thing?  The focus must have been enormous, no smaller than the ones they used to power their cities.”

“Yes, the mythallars,” Gale nodded sagely, then leaned forward on the table as though sharing a secret, “but I haven’t the slightest idea how he did it.  No mention of anything but a strange egg within any translation or account I’ve come across,” a smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he lowered his voice, “my personal theory is that he made use of a living creature of some sort.  Perhaps something of ilithid origin, given their psionic capabilities.  A sufficiently powerful ilithid being placed at the center of a society may cause enough neurological fallout to destroy the whole thing down to the very bolts.”

“Ilithid,” Velim repeated, “no archeological sites for this event, I imagine.”

Gale sat back and ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a greying strand that fell against his forehead.  “One, possibly, but it’s out in the Silver Marches.  Difficult to reach under ideal conditions…”

“Which the Silver Marches do not possess,” Velim finished.

Gale leaned in again.  “So you’ve been?”

Velim glanced at Madame Toussau, and she blinked at them reassuringly.  Velim picked at the chip in the rim of their espresso cup.  “A year ago, for diphtheria.  We lost a whole crate of antitoxin and a horse to the mud before we even reached the outbreak.”

“Gods, what a fetid wasteland it is.  Even the hags avoid the place.” Gale chuckled to himself, “you mentioned you were an author?”

“Just textbooks.  Peiotr’s been looking for a publishing house that might take my fiction, but no such luck as of yet,” Velim explained, “the matchmaking itself is for research.”

Gale thought of his mother’s demand for cooperation and felt a pang of relief as the expectations lifted from his shoulders.  “What are you writing that would require you to employ a matchmaker for research?”

“You’ll laugh,” Velim’s smile this time was genuine, but muted, “it’s a romance about an accidental match with a devil.”

Gale did laugh, just a little.  “What makes a devil lovable?”

Velim shrugged and finished their coffee.  “If there’s anything to love, I’ll find it.”

Gale’s voice ached, and yet Tara sat on the bench beside the door and swished her tail at him with expectation.

“It went well, Tara,” he assured her, scratching behind her ears the way she liked and sitting beside her to doff his shoes.

“Nothing strange about them?” Tara demanded, “no scales or claws?” she sniffed him tentatively.

“No such thing, Tara,” Gale huffed, “I did bump into a dragonborn on my way home.”

She sniffed again.  “Could be.  Your mother asked me no less than four times if I had heard from you.”

“You visited my mother four times?  Tara, you must quit pestering the poor woman,” Gale scolded, his voice soft.

Tara flicked her ear at him.  “She was concerned, you were gone for hours.  I was under strict orders to report back as soon as you arrived, but I only expected you gone an hour.  We both did, and look --” Tara trotted to the glass doors to the balcony and sat pointedly in front of the reddening sky.

“Then it went much better than either of you expected,” Gale stretched and shrugged off his vest, “they’re a surgeon and work with the Waterdeep Public Health Corps, and as though they had the time to spare, they’re also a published author.”

Tara met him at his desk and settled on the shelf he set up above it just for her.  “And did you give them time to speak about being a decorated plague doctor, author, and surgeon, or did you simply talk their ear off until you were hoarse?”

“They kept asking me questions, Tara,” Gale collapsed into his desk chair with a sigh, “thank you for talking me into going.”

“Do you need me to fetch you something?” Tara purred, the scolding out of her voice.

“No, Tara, thank you,” Gale smiled at his ceiling, “I’m feeling just fine.”

Velim closed the door of their flat behind them and slid all three deadbolts into place before their shoulders slumped.  They sat on the bed, pulled off their boots, and tucked them beneath the bedframe, then fell back.

They pulled their gloves off one finger at a time, then plucked the Ring of Mortal Guise off their ring finger and dropped it into one of the gloves for safe keeping.  Their scales reappeared, glossy black in the low light filtering in from the sunset.  They studied the shine on their hands, their claws filed as short and flat as they could get them without hitting the quick.  They ran their hand up their arm until it caught the edge of a scale coming loose.  They pinched the edge between their thumb and forefinger and plucked it off, leaving a pale green patch of skin underneath.  Blood beaded up jewel-like where it had still been attached.  

They listened to their neighbors argue below them until someone threw something soft and dull across the room.  Velim took the increasing volume as their sign to get up.  They sat at their writing desk and lit the oil lamp with a wave of their hand.  They pulled a box from the shelf and dropped the scale into it, replaced it, and pulled a leaf from the sheaf of paper in the drawer and began writing their report on the date with Gale Dekarios.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

A second queen  Part 2- Discovery

Pairing: Daemon x Reader (Summer Isles) x Ashara Martel (OC character. Will appear in the parts 3 & 4)

Themes :Ansgt | Kinda sorta fluffy ending

Word count: 2.7k words

Summary: Life in Volantis is not all that bad, and the family you work for is good for you. But then, you see a familiar face, someone you though you would never see again.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.

Six years had passed since that fateful day.

You heard of Daemon’s wedding and the Dornish princess he took to wife. You heard he had settled into the role of a happy family man, that he had grown content with his lot in life. You found out no children had been born into the marriage, and already there was talk of a grand council. A decision on who would succeed the ailing king should his brother not produce an heir had to be made. 

You put such news out of your mind. Daemon never searched for you, never inquired after the child you birthed, and why should he? He made it plain he never wanted to marry you. He had destroyed all your letters, so why should he look for a child he never cared to learn about in the first place?

And Gods, how it hurt. Being lied to and used hurt. Being made to feel less than hurt. Having to give birth in a strange home, frightened and alone, without your child’s sire by your side, hurt. Why it was enough to leave you weeping into your pillows every night. 

And tonight, you stood by Jace's bed, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. His arms had wrapped tight around the toy ship Talisa’s mother had given him on his fifth name day. When she asked who the father was, you only said he was a Lyseni sailor, a man of no consequence. The lie came easily as your son possessed the same silver-gold hair, chiseled features, and violet eyes most Lysene were famed for. Lady Sybell, an observant woman, did not believe you but accepted your answer. Jacaerys, or Jace, as everyone called him, was allowed to study with Lady Sybell’s grandchildren. He had everything save for the one thing that mattered. A father. 

Oh, how your hands turned into angry fists at the thought. 

Still, you learned to be content with your son and new home. It still stung whenever you looked at your child and wondered what might have been had Daemon fought for you. Jace could have claimed a dragon by now. He and his father could have driven you to distraction with their antics. You would have spent every night in Daemon's bed, being loved by him, instead of sleeping in a cold room every night. 

And your days were filled with the same routine. 

You would wake up before dawn, eat a quick meal with the rest of the servants and go about your duties. You would then bring Talisa’s breakfast to her, lay out her clothes and arrange her bath. You would help her dress, then fix her hair. Sometimes, you would tend to Lady Sybell herself, and you did not mind. Talisa was a sweet and considerate young woman. Her mother was a fair and generous mistress. It was not bad, this new life you lived, but sometimes, you would find your mind wandering back to Westeros and its future king and the life the three of you could have lived. 

Then at night, you could weep into your pillows again.

                                  ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

"Three pieces of silver, madam."

The shopkeeper and their outstretched hand brought you out of your usual daydreaming. "My apologies," you said, and you gave her the money. After accepting your bags, you sighed and looked around, at odds with your time.

Lady Sybell had taken Talisa out for the day, giving you plenty of free time. You walked around the marketplace, nibbling on exotic fruits and buying trinkets Jace would have liked. Finally, you came to the mummer’s square, where dancers, mages, and mummers performed in the hope of patronage and coin. 

There were fire mages today, performing wondrous acts for a growing crowd. They made flames rise and dance, created creatures that could only be found in fairy tales, and whipped thin coils of flames about, making them whirl over and around stunned onlookers. 

You watched and watched, losing track of time and oblivious to everything around you. A nearby bell struck the hour. You had to go back. The family would return soon, and you had to help Talisa prepare for a feast tonight. You held onto your bags and looked around again, not stopping until your gaze rested on a pair of familiar lilac eyes. You swallowed and stared when wisps of silver-gold hair whipped about in the breeze. You pinched yourself to make sure you were not dreaming. 

The sting in your arm convinced you that this was no dream. Daemon was here. He was actually here. And the way he looked at you, like he could not believe his eyes.

You wanted nothing to do with him. When he made his way over, you ran, ignoring his pleas for you to stop. You ran and ran, not stopping until you reached the safety of the Maegyr manse. You held onto the wrought iron gate and panted, your heart pounding away in your chest. You tried to grapple with the enormity of what just took place. 

He was here. Daemon was here, behind the black walls of Volantis. And he had seen you. Oh, this was not good at all.

"Mama?"

The sudden greeting startled you. "Oh, sweetheart." You pressed a hand to your chest and smiled while your son opened the gate. "You scared me."

Jace raised his head and smirked, flashing the same wide grin as his father. "Who is he, mama?" he said, pointing to someone behind you. 

That someone came forward and introduced themselves. "I am prince Daemon Targaryen of Westeros." 

You closed your eyes and sighed. Daemon had followed you back to the manse, and he had seen his son. 

Daemon came over and crouched in front of Jace, taking in his soft, pale hair, chiseled jaw, and vivid purple eyes. Why, the child was exact in many ways. "And you are?"

"Jace," Your son replied. "Everyone calls me Jace."

“Short for Jacaerys,” you said, when Daemon turned to you. 

Jacaerys. It was the name he had always wanted to give his first son. Daemon repeated it silently, as if he were tasting it.  "And how old are you, Jace?"

He did not have to ask for an age, did not have to ask for anything, really. Daemon already knew, but wanted to hear it all the same.

"Almost six," you said and sent Jace back inside as that familiar sharp pang of rage and heartache took hold in your heart. "And why are you here?"

Daemon stood up, unable to look you in the eye. Shame and guilt had been eating at him for years, and now he didn’t know what to say to you. He knew he had to say something, but what? What could he say to the love he had abandoned all those years ago?

"Well?" you demanded.

He swallowed, looked at the house, then at you. "That day. The day you were sent away. You wanted to tell me you were with child, didn’t you?"

You refused to answer. You thought he did not deserve one, not after everything that happened.

Daemon took a step forward, forcing you to step back. "I'm so sorry," he said, taking another step towards you and only stopping when you flinched and backed away. 

Your eyes stung when memories of that awful day came flooding back. "Why are you here?"

Daemon swallowed and looked at the house, at a very specifc window, where a specific little boy could be seen looking at the two of them. A stab of guilt tore at his gut. "I found out what really happened. Otto slipped up and I made him tell me everything."

Daemon went on to explain how there had been no manse, how Otto made sure you did not get a cent of what Daemon put aside for you. He found out how you never made it to Bear Island and that Otto put you on a ship for Volantis after snooping through your letters and finding out you were pregnant.  

"I've come to take you and our child with me," he added, hoping and praying that it was not too late and that you still had not closed your heart to him. "I plan on making you my second wife."

"Why?" you sneered. "So your brother can avoid a succession crisis? Is that it?"

"No!" Daemon tried to reach out and touch you like he used to. When you flinched, he forced himself to stay his hands, thinking he had lost all right to do so. "Not because of the succession crisis! I…” his shoulders drooped a little. “I just want you back."    You flung back every word Daemon and Otto threw at you. "I am a bastard with no name or title. I am a low-born woman of little consequence. Someone who has no connections. Marrying me will bring no advantage to the crown. That is what you and Otto told me, yes?"

Daemon sank to his knees then, not caring that passersby gaped at the sight of a clearly high-born man kneeling before a servant. "And I offer no excuse for any of it," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "You had no one at court save for me, and I... I broke my vows and abandoned you. Y/n..." he pleaded when you pulled away from him. "Sweetheart, I am so sorry... For everything that happened. Please, let me make amends for failing you in every possible way."

"By marrying me?" Tears strained at the corners of your eyes before falling down and staining your cheeks. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I want to do right by you and our child." Daemon swallowed before speaking again. "Because I still love you, that’s why."

You gasped and took a deep breath to compose yourself. Daemon claimed to still love you, but was that the truth? "More of your lies?" you hissed through your teeth. "More fanciful tales to get me on my back?"

Daemon flinched, like you had just slapped him. "Of course not!" He rose as his  anger bubbled and he took a deep, steadying breath to compose himself. You had every right not to trust him, he reasoned. "Of course not. I do love you. I will do anything to get you back. Please," he said, his eyes filled with silent pleading. "Tell me what I must do to get you back?"

Did he truly want your forgiveness, another chance? Did he truly want to marry you? But what of his wife? What did she have to say about such a scheme? "Does Ashara know?"

Daemon replied with an immediate, "Ashara helped me find you. She wants me to do this. Please, sweetheart, there is no trickery here. I really do want to marry you and be a father to our son."

You swallowed, determined to say no. Daemon wounded you in a way you never thought possible. He let his brother’s knights lay hands on you and did nothing to find out if you were truly cared for or not. You should have told him no, that the damned could take him, and that he should suffer for the rest of his days.

You looked at him, your eyes spitting fire. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness. Then you turned back to the manse. Jace was by the window, looking at you both, his eyes filled with curiosity. It was the same look Daemon had, and you sighed. 

Daemon was his father. No matter what happened, Daemon was Jace's father. And you knew all too well the pain of being born to a man who never claimed you, who wanted nothing to do with you. You knew all too well the struggles that came with being a bastard, and you did not want Jace to struggle the way you did. Your child deserved a better fate. You swallowed your pride and came to a decision, hoping you would not come to regret it in the future.

"I will marry you," you ground out, and Daemon's eyes lit up in joy.

"For Jace's sake," you continued. "But know this..."

Daemon nodded and encouraged you to go on.

"I will never lie with you. And I will never forgive you for what you did."

He swallowed but accepted your decision. The gods knew he had no right to argue your choice.

"And now I must depart," you said as you gathered your belongings and made your way back to the house. "Goodbye, prince Daemon."

Daemon could only rise and watch as the gate slammed behind you.

                                        ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

You spoke to Jace that very evening, about how the prince was his father. Jace was overjoyed, and that joy grew when Daemon came over for dinner, much to the shock of everyone. Everyone except for Lady Sybell, that is.

Oh, she knew. She had met the prince years before, and she had long suspected he was the father. “The same dimpled cheeks,” she mused, “The same wide grin. If Jace had been born with his father’s colouring he would be Daemon’s exact in every way. Why did you not tell me?”

You swallowed, hoping she would not be angry with you. “I am sorry, my lady. But I had no choice.”

Sybell sighed and patted your hand. “I understand. But are you truly going to marry him?”

You looked on, as Daemon talked with his son. He kept Jace on his lap and regaled him with stories of Westeros and Kings Landing. “I must,” you huffed in frustration. There was no other way now, Daemon would follow you and Jace to the ends of the earth if he had to. “My son needs his father. I will not deny him that. As for me and the prince…” You shrugged, completely at a loss. That spark you felt for Daemon was there, buried deep within your heart, but you didn’t want to let it burn bright again. “I do not know.”

Jace had been staring at his father, completely wide-eyed. "You ride a dragon?" he said, his eyes filling with wonder. "A real dragon?"

Daemon grinned and pulled out a wooden carving of a dragon, all painted in deep red. "Caraxes. The blood wyrm." He held out the carving for his son to take. "He looks like this."

Purple eyes went wide with shock. "Can I have a dragon too?" Jace studied the carving, running his fingers over the wings and the unusually long neck. 

Daemon smiled indulgently and ran a hand over his son's wavy, silver-gold hold hair. He cursed himself for what he did, thinking how he lost six years of his son’s life, and all because he did not have the strength to fight for his son’s mother. "Yes,” he said indulgently. “But we will have to go to the Stepstones, for that is where the dragons live."

Jace beamed, then hopped down to run around the dining room, carving in hand, pretending he was atop a great dragon. Talisa’s little brother chased him, the two of them pretending to fight a great battle, much to the amusement of others.

And Daemon watched while guilt tore at him. Had he taken better care of you, his son would have had a proper name right from the start and would have had a dragon's egg placed in his crib. You would have been crown princess, and Jace a prince. You would not have had to struggle as someone’s servant. But Daemon had a chance now, to make things right. He looked at you, his entire countenance softening when you looked back at him. You scowled and looked away again, even though your cheeks warmed a little. He would not see it. Not for a long while. Not until you were certain he was not playing you false. When you looked his way again, his lips tugged at the corners into a shy smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

And Daemon gave you your space. He made no attempt to approach you in a private corner, made no attempt to touch you.

He did the same during the long voyage back to Westeros. He made sure you and Jace had the best room, the best of what he could personally offer the two of you. He spent every possible moment with his son, to make up for those lost years. You would hide in the shadows and watch while he played with Jace, while he read him stories and put him to bed. And when it came to you?

Daemon kept away as much as he could when it came to you. Oh, you would catch him watching your every move, listening to your every word with rapt attention. He made sure you ate, made sure you were comfortable, but he went no further than that. It honestly felt like the early days, when he was trying to catch your attention and court you. It made you yearn, for a time from before.

And you felt the ice in your heart crack a little.

[quotergirl19]

Exasperated by Colin’s constant, albeit occasionally helpful attempts to get back on her good side, Penelope has a frank conversation with him finally confessing her feelings to him without shame or fear that she thought she’d been in love with him secretly for years. That she was not sure he would ever return her affections but she was willing to wait and see because she cared about him so much. She explained how she was never so happy than when he wrote to her, protected her, held her hands and told her he’d always look after her as they danced because she was special to him. All of it gave her cause to believe that he might actually care for her, but then she heard him disparaging the mere thought of courting her. How she now knew he’d never so much as consider her for a wife. Finally she had her answer and she realized that he just pitied her. How he would never see her for all she was no matter how good she was to him or how devotedly she loved him. She told him that she cried for days for being such a fool. That she knew she could no longer allow him to distract her from finding a husband. She admits she burned every letter he sent her and knows nothing he has written to her on his most recent travels. And finally, Penelope tells Colin she is determined to avoid him this season and asks that he please do the gentlemanly thing and not distract her from her purpose, finding a husband, and she left.

Colin was speechless at hearing Penelope’s declaration of love and her wish to end their friendship, he remained stunned silent even after she left him. She was right. He had done everything that she said he had. He had just been so comfortable with his friend Pen. He had never intended to make a fool of her or hurt her. He would never hurt Pen. She was his best friend, and he had somehow blindly and unintentionally broken her heart. He’d been so worried about her when she didn’t reply to any of his letters that he turned around and came back to London thinking if she was the only woman he could miss more than he would miss seeing the world, he must love her. He’d come back to be with her and she’d given up on him. He’d pushed away the one woman who would never forsake him. And he had to win her back.

Penelope felt as though a great weight was lifted and she was proud of herself for getting through her speech without shedding any tears. She’d practiced saying that to Colin for weeks. Oh she had done her crying in the last few months while he was traveling and she didn’t feel any less heartbroken yet. Deep down Penelope still loved Colin and wanted him more than any other man but she was resolved to not let her foolish broken heart stop her. She was going to focus on her future. She was a woman, she had no choice but to take charge of her life. So it was with her future happiness in mind that Penelope told the coachman to take her to Madame Delacroix’s boutique.

Determined to change her circumstances, Penelope went straight to her friend Genevieve, to enlist her help in making her over from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. No longer wishing to be seen an an insipid wallflower, Penelope was ready to bloom and she was certain that Madame Delacroix was just the right person to help.

Genevieve: Penelope what are you doing here, are you alright? Is it the Queen? Come inside.

Penelope: I need your help. I have spent years secretly in love with someone who never saw me as anything but a friend and now I am entering my third season with no prospects. I cannot afford for any more men to overlook me. I must catch the eye of a good man who is ready for marriage this season.

Genevieve: Good for you Penelope! I think this is a wonderful plan.

Penelope: I have allowed my mama to choose my wardrobe for far too long. The yellow dresses she has insisted I wear make me look pitiable and plain because they don’t suit me. Help me please, transform me with your talents. Dress me to flatter my figure. You understand how the perfect dress and hair can make people see you differently and I wish to be seen for the strong confident woman that I am, as someone worthy of respect and love… not as someone destined for spinsterhood, and easy to overlook.

Genevieve: I shall help you make the men of the ton drop at your feet… we shall unleash the new Penelope Featherington this season.

Penelope: I’m glad you are up to the challenge, my friend. I have complete faith that you will turn me from an invisible wallflower into a desirable and irresistible new bride.

Genevieve: Come I have some fabulous new silk fabrics in blue, lavender and a lovely green that just arrived, they will look ravishing with your red hair. You shall have first pick. Let’s get started.

[thran-duils]

Cut Your Teeth (Part Eight)

Title: Cut Your Teeth (Part Eight) Summary: Lord Rogers oversees multiple villages in the country side and is on his yearly rounds of collecting taxes from his constituents. Y/N’s family has recently moved to one of his villages from another part of the country and is eager to please him. Her family’s offering of two goats and a bag of coin pales in comparison to the payment he really wants though as soon as he lays eyes on Y/N. He orders her to return with him and upon being in the municipality capitol, Y/N finds herself faced with a woman her age that sweeps her off her feet, pulling her away from the powerful man that wants her hand in marriage. Fic is 18+! Words: 1,705 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, homophobia, forced relationship, violence, domestic violence

Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fic masterpost

(Steve artwork was tagged on pinterest to petite-madame)

Squirrels darted across the cobblestone in the garden as you sat at the table, waiting for the servants to bring out your breakfast. The squirrels eagerness to search for food served as a reminder fall had arrived and they were preparing for the winter ahead. Your book drooped in your grasp, your attention following the scampering instead. You never thought you would be jealous of a squirrel – but they had the freedom to go where they pleased.

Your food was placed in front of you, and you thanked them, closing your book and laying it on the table.

You heard Steve’s voice from inside the house and you sighed, buttering your bread. As his footsteps drew near, you looked up as you took a bite. He was dressed only in his robe – he must not plan to go anywhere today. He had been home for over a couple of weeks, leaving during the day, and returning to bed you at night. Your bruises from the night he came back were almost faded – without resistance following that night, he had not made new marks.

Instead of greeting you with a good morning, he pulled his chair back, commenting, “You’re inviting those rodents to come grab your food by letting them get so close.”

“They aren’t bothering me.”

“You haven’t bled,” Steve changed the subject without bothering to respond to you.

It was true. He had come home what should have been about mid-cycle for you and it was time for your monthly bleeding or should be.

“There’s still time,” you replied, staring down at your bread.

“For your sake, I should hope there’s not,” Steve replied coldly as his food was placed in front of him. His eyes were boring into you.

What pleasant breakfast discussion. You should have gotten up earlier so you would not have to suffer his mood and abrasive comments.

“So for my sake if not… you will allow another man to pay to be in between my thighs?” you asked him indifferently in return, dipping your knife back into the butter. “You would think with the amount that happens here, one might start questioning the men instead of the women for fault.”

Steve’s fist hit the table and you startled at the china rattling, dropping your butter knife adding to the clatter.

“How many times must I remind you to bide your tongue, woman?” he sneered. You bristled at the term ‘woman’ and even more so his condescending tone. But yes, you had forgotten your tongue and let it get away from you once again. “I have no plans to have you lay with another man. Considering I’ve been one used in those circumstances, I do not doubt I have no fault in this. No, this will fall at your feet.” There was a malicious glint in his gaze and you tore your own away, not being able to stand to look at him any longer. “So, if you are smart, you would realize you should hope you have taken my seed and do well with it. If not, well… I may have to get creative in other ways. I will not have a barren wife.”

The hair on your arms stood on end with the chill in that comment. He snorted, picking up his own bread to begin buttering it. Hand shaking, you reached forward to grab yours up off the table. You could not imagine what cruel ends Steve could and would go to if you did not fulfill what he wanted. It almost made you prefer the idea of home. At least there you knew what to expect.

<><><>

Lettie and you sat close, looking out over the viewpoint from the Barnes’ back yard. The water stretched out ahead and the breeze from the surface reached you. Saskia sat at the head of the triangle, working on her needle point. She was focused, happy to stitch a design for her expected child. Hearing Steve’s threat the other week, you were having an easier time understanding how Saskia could reconcile the vile act she had been subjected to with the news of her pregnancy. Being pregnant was the key to the women of the capitol’s safety.

You were working on a painting; hand stitching never having been a skill of yours. You were being careful to not spill the paint on the blanket you were sitting on. Lettie was watching you work out of the corner of her eyes, her hands stilling every time something caught her eye on your canvas. You had not failed to notice that she was stitching lilacs – she had mentioned they were her favorite. Like Saskia, she was a natural at stitching and the different shades of purple were coming together to create a realistic rendition of the sweet smelling flower.

“Lord Parker was asking after you,” Saskia said to Lettie out of the blue breaking the silence.

Your heart skipped a beat, your hand faltering. You swallowed, making sure to not steal a glance at Lettie although you felt her freeze as well. There were only a couple of moments of silence.

“Oh?’ was all Lettie said, nonchalant.

“He seems interested,” Saskia replied, eyeing Lettie with a coy glint.

Lettie cleared her throat and asked evenly, “Isn’t he… young?”

Saskia snorted, “Younger but not too young. You would do well to see if he will pursue further. He is Lord Stark’s ward after all. He’s not a nobody.”

Laying her work at her lap, she made eye contact with Saskia now. “What do you propose I do?”

“Oh, Lettie. You know what to do. Flirt. But not overtly. Catch his attention. Draw him in with your eyes. Be coquettish. You have watched the other ladies. Surely you’ve picked up on how this game works.”

She certainly did. But it had not been tried on a male as far as you knew. She had done well enough to draw you in though. You were feeling jealously beginning to scratch away in the inside at the thought of her flirting with Lord Parker… being courted. And if it led to -- no, you pushed the thought away before you got too lost in a spiral.

“I suppose I have.” Lettie responded. “I’m just… uncertain.”

“Like I said. He’s not a nobody. This could be a fruitful match. And who knows? Once you begin to know him, perhaps there will be a spark.”

You wondered if Saskia had felt that hope when she had been courted by Bucky. And if she had, when that spark would have died when he showed his true nature. Lord Parker being under Lord Stark’s wing led you to believe there was very little change Lettie would ever feel anything for him and vise-versa.

“One can only hope,” Lettie said quietly.

“I will ask Bucky to invite him and Tony out to lunch this week.”

“Would you like company if Lettie is going to be preoccupied with Lord Parker?” you asked trying to keep the desperation out of your tone at wanting to be close by during this exchange.

“Oh, Y/N. I did not mean to leave you out. Of course you and Steve are welcome to come. And yes, I would like someone to talk to rather than staring off into space while Tony and Bucky talk about lords know what while Lettie and Peter get to know each other.”

You forced a small smile, “Wonderful. I look forward to it.”

<><><>

Lettie looked so uncomfortable with Peter hanging off her arm. He had not left her side since she was introduced to the room. You suspected this whole thing had been set up by the two families to get Lettie off their plate. She was a good match but Saskia having a hand maiden for too long would look improper in the capitol’s eyes.

How you wished to be the one on her arm and not him.

He had kept her on the dance floor for the majority of the time and the slight twinge in her expression told you her feet were beginning to ache. Steve had been preoccupying himself with a separate group than the one Tony was socializing with, which meant that she was not left beside you when Peter went to fetch her drinks.

You locked eyes and tried to give her a reassuring smile. The one she gave in return was weak.

“She shouldn’t look so miserable,” Saskia whispered in your ear, startling you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s okay,” you said, running your hand over your ear nervously. “She is probably just nervous. I don’t believe it is ingratitude for the situation.”

“Nerves or not, we ladies taught her better. And I explained it to her. You explained it to her how important is that she finds favor with him, and this goes through,” Saskia continued. You held your tongue at the comment that you were pushing Lettie towards this. “They will make a lovely match. Think of how lovely their children will be.”

You smiled convincingly and gave a curt nod.

“Perhaps I can get Bucky to invite Peter and her over here…” Saskia said more to herself than anything before turning away from you.

Sighing, you looked to the other side of yourself and gave a slight tug on Steve’s satin sleeve. His eyes slid towards you away from the conversation and you gestured with your glass for him to fetch another. You wanted another to try to distract yourself from the idea of Lettie having children.

“No more wine,” Steve said in hushed tones in your ear. “You’ve had a glass, you should not risk more with the babe. Be happy I let you have the one… soon it will be none when I can officially announce once you are a month past your date. And that is coming up quickly.”

Your hand dropped and you began to turn back away from him but he caught you. He took your goblet and said, “Water will do you well.”

He left and you stood alone.

You shot a look over to Lettie and found her turned away from you as well, Peter’s hand flexing on her back possessively.

~~~

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[charlotte-and-leopold]

The King of the Belgians to Queen Victoria.

LAEKEN, 21st May 1845.

MY DEAREST AND MOST BELOVED VICTORIA, - Receive my sincerest and most heartfelt good wishes on the happy reappearance of your birthday. I need not dwell on my sentiments of devotion to you; they began with your life, and will only end with mine. The only claim I make is to be remembered with some little affection. Thank heaven, I have little to wish you, than that your present happiness may not be disturbed, and that those who are dear to you may be preserved for your happiness.

My gift is Charlotte's portrait. The face is extremely like, and the likest that exists; the hair is a little too fair, it had become also darker. I take this opportunity to repeat that Charlotte was a noble-minded and highly gifted creature.

She was nervous, as all the family have been; she could be violent, but then she was full of repentance for it, and her disposition highly generous and susceptible of great devotion. I am the more bound to say this, as I understood that you had some notion that she had been very imperious, and not mistress of her temper. Before her marriage some people by dint of flattery had tried to give her masculine tastes; and in short had pushed her to become one day a sort of Queen Elizabeth. These sentiments were already a little modified before her marriage. But she was particularly determined to be a good and obedient wife; some of her friends were anxious she should not, amongst these Madame de Flahaut must be mentioned en premiere ligne. This became even a subject which severed the intimacy between them. Madame de Flahaut, much older than Charlotte, and of a sour and determined character, had gained an influence which partook on Charlotte's part a little of fear. She was afraid of her, but when once supported took courage.

People were much struck on the 2nd of May 1816 at Carlton House with the clearness and firmness with which she pronounced "and obey" etc., as there had been a general belief that it would be for the husband to give these promises. The Regent put me particularly on my guard, and said, "If you don't resist she will govern you with a high hand." Your own experience has convinced you that real affection changes many sentiments that may have been implanted into the mind of a young girl. With Charlotte it was the more meritorious, as from a very early period of her life she was considered as the heiress of the Crown; the Whigs flattered her extremely, and later, when she got by my intervention reconciled to the Tories, they also made great efforts to please her.

Her understanding was extremely good; she knew everybody, and I even afterwards found her judgment generally extremely correct. She had read a great deal and knew well what she had read. Generous she was almost too much, and her devotion was quite affecting, from a character so much pushed to be selfish and imperious.

I will here end my souvenir of poor dear Charlotte, but I thought that the subject could not but be interesting to you. Her constancy in wishing to marry me, which she maintained under difficulties of every description, has been the foundation of all that touched the family afterwards. You know, I believe, that your poor father was the chief promoter, though also the Yorks were; but our correspondence from 1814 till 1816 was entirely carried on through his kind intervention; it would otherwise have been impossible, as she was really treated as a sort of prisoner. Grant always to that good and generous Charlotte, who sleeps already with her beautiful little boy so long, where all will go to, an affectionate remembrance, and believe me she deserves it.

Forgive my long letter, and see in it, what it really is, a token of the great affection I have for you. Ever, my dearest Victoria, your devoted Uncle,

LEOPOLD R

[chaoticgoodlawyerwrites]

Short sneak peak for the next chapter of Siren Song! Hopefully it’s done tomorrow!

…

It was only three days out from the production, Shen Yuan was being tailored for her final outfit of the production when she heard an increased commotion from the front of the theater. She listened carefully and was surprised when a stage hand ran to the back and cried, “Madam Shen! Please, quickly, you are needed!”

The seamstress pulled back her pin and Shen Yuan threw on another robe as she rushed out. She quickly tied it to protect her modesty further as she heard Qi Qingqi say, “Sir, please, this is a professional setting and we are preparing for a show opening in less than a week. Can this not–”

“It has waited long enough!” Shen Yuan’s lip curled and her stride lengthened as Yue Qingyuan’s voice registered. “You have turned away each message I have previously sent for the return of my ward, no inn claims to harbor her and neither does Count Liu. I am tired of being ignored.”

“Shen Yuan is not your ward. She is not your anything.”

That was Luo Binghe’s carefully held voice and Shen Yuan wasn’t quite running to prevent bloodshed, but it was a near thing.

“Just who are you?!”

“She is none of your concern!” Shen Yuan said loudly as she burst in the view. She took in Luo Binghe in Shang Qinghua’s body wearing a long, rich blue cloak and looking down her nose from the stage to Yue Qingyuan. The man himself was in the aisle of the audience, with Qi Qingqi left stage, out of the way but still present. Everyone except Binghe looked at Shen Yuan. She rushed to Luo Binghe’s side and continued, “And why should anyone have told you where I was, like you have any power over me. I am married and can no longer be considered your property under any law. You intrude where you have no right, and you are no one’s ruler. Be gone.”

Yue Qingyuan gaped at her then said, “Impossible. You had never been out the house to go anywhere but the theater.”

“Incorrect, and it is done. You are being a nuisance.”

“You insolent girl!” Yue Qingyuan shouted. “You would be nowhere without me! I approved of no marriage, have never met any deemed worthy of your hand accepting Count Liu.”

“How fortunate I chose for myself. You did your duty to my brother, but you have no power over me any longer. “

“As if I would ever obey you.” Yue Qingyuan moved forward towards the stairs to the side of the stage.

Luo Binghe didn’t let him get that far. She walked over to him and simply pushed him away. Before he could respond, he was thrown back down the stairs, landing hard on the ground as Binghe curled her lip at him. “I believe Madam Shen told you to leave.”

Yue Qingyuan composed himself quickly enough, but looked up at Luo Binghe in astonishment. “Who exactly are you?”

“A visitor that finds your behavior abhorrent. We shall meet properly three nights hence,” Luo Binghe said, a bit hissing slipping into her tone. “Perhaps then we will see the kind of man you are.”

[lady-lissette]

Ring

It was early into the afternoon when Marienne was escorting her pupils back to their parents after one of her lessons. One child lived only down the pathway from the Isedaire estate and two resided in the Brume. The last child, who still followed closely behind the woman, was the daughter of one of the merchants working at the Jeweled Crozier – Marienne’s final destination of the day.

Upon arrival, the child ran in front of Marienne and lowered herself in a clumsy curtsy. “Thank you for the lesson, Lady Mari!” The child’s mother, after giving her stall a quick wipe down with a cloth, soon approached the pair. “Thank you again for taking the time to teach my Lucille song and dance. It’s difficult to afford private tutors these days.” The merchant smiled as she reached down to give her daughter a hug before ushering her behind the counter of her stall. “She’s always so excited to attend your lessons. I dare say that she prefers being in your home instead of mine!” Marienne felt a twinge of warmth fill her cheeks and she dismissively waved a hand. “You give me too much praise, madam! I try to make my lessons at least somewhat entertaining for children. I’m pleased to hear that she doesn’t find my teachings too dull.” “Does your husband not find it troublesome to keep so many children in your home during the day?” “Pardon me – Husband?” The merchant quirked an eyebrow. “...Are you still unmarried, Lady Marienne? I thought someone your age would at least be making arrangements with other noble families by now.” The younger Elezen paused, attempting to conjure an explanation in her mind. This was the third time someone had asked her if she was married this month. “I ah – correct, madam. I’m uninterested in pursuing marriage at this moment.” she stammered, fidgeting with the sleeve of her coat. “M-My parents are understanding of my decision, though!” “I see…” The two stood silent for a moment before the merchant spoke up once more. “Well, whenever you do decide to settle down one day, I’m certain they would be most fortunate to have someone like you!“ Marienne, growing uncomfortable with the topic, took a step back and lowered herself in a bow to excuse herself. “O-Of course! Anyroad, should Miss Lucille wish to attend another lesson, pray send her to my home two days from now.” “Of course! Thank you again, milady!” After the merchant returned to her stall, Marienne took a deep breath, turned on her heel, and started to make her way back home. She couldn’t help but feel rather embarrassed – both with the conversation she just had and with herself. She knew that her parents would push for her to be married sooner or later, especially if her eldest sister one day decided to finally settle down. ‘Is Lissie even interested in marriage? I doubt the thought has ever crossed her mind...Gerivaux and Annette too.’ she thought to herself as she gazed down at her gloved hand. As hard as she tried to imagine a sparkling gem adorning her finger, she just couldn’t see it. It simply didn’t feel right. Marienne knew that the merchant didn’t mean any harm by her question, but the fact that she had been asked multiple times about her marital status in such a short span of time made her wonder if she ever would. Perhaps in the future, when she has finally done and experienced everything that she desired in her life, she would consider spending the rest of her days by someone’s side. But for now, she would rather continue being single.

[lillartztranslations]

Chou no Doku Translation-Fujita: Servant For Eternity [ENDING]

I’m tanstaling all the sexy scense that are not in the Switch version of the game, Enjoy~!

-

-

A few years later...

Yuriko is sitting on a couch, relaxing and happily watching her kids playing in the garden while sipping a cup of tea served by Fujita.

Yuriko is now a mother. She has a son and a daughter.

Her children are weaned. They have grown up into energetic children and now attend school.

Every day during the children's summer vacation is war. In fact, right now, her maids are desperately trying to keep up with the frolicking children.

Fujita: "They truly are bursting with energy..."

Yuriko: "Yes. Well, considering they're me and Junichi's children, it's only natural that they're balls of energy."

A hearty smile makes its way to Yuriko's face.

Shiba is on a business trip to Europe.

His days are busy, but he always makes sure to send a letter a day to his dearest wife.

Indeed... Immediately after solving the incident, Yuriko and Shiba got married.

Her name is now Yuriko Shiba.

Shiba, surprisingly, agreed to the conditions Yuriko proposed.

They shall not interfere with each other's lives. However, they should have children first--that was the minimum condition that Shiba offered.

And Yuriko agreed to that condition.

After all , if Yuriko were to give birth to the children of her male paramour, it would definitely take Shiba no time at all to find out...

Fujita: "My lady..."

Fujita still refers to Yuriko as "my lady". 

He sometimes calls her "madam", but his habit of calling her "my lady" remains.

Yuriko: "...Fujita, please. Do something with that habit of yours, will you? Well... I don't mind if you call me 'my lady' when we're alone, though."

Fujita: "Please... I have been holding myself back for a week..."

Fujita says, face contorted in pain and cheeks tainted red. Yuriko glances over at him quickly and lets out a small laugh.

Yuriko: "...No."

Fujita: "...My lady!"

Fujita kneels down before Yuriko's legs.

And then, he lifts the hem of her kimono and grazes his lips across her white, smooth calf.

Yuriko: "Hey, stop it, Fujita..."

Fujita: "Please... My lady..."

Yuriko: "We don't want my children to witness this now, do we? Stop it."

Fujita: "But... If we wait any longer, Mister Shiba will come home..."

Yuriko: "Sheesh, you... You can't even wait for more than a week? Such a useless man..."

Yuriko sighs before taking the bell on the table into her hand and ringing it.

Soon, a young maid comes running out from the inner part of the manor.

The maid's eyes land on Fujita who is still clinging to Yuriko's leg, and for a brief moment, the maid frowns in disgust.

Yuriko:

"I'm going to have dinner at the usual Japanese restaurant today. Look after the children and the manor, okay?"

Yuriko says without batting an eye and stands up, kicking Fujita away in the process.

Fujita falls on his backside on the floor.

Yuriko looks down at his fallen form and smiles wryly.

Yuriko:

"Woe is me. I've got a child who keeps refusing to be weaned."

The maid hurriedly rushes out of view.

The servants in the garden have also averted their eyes, pretending not to see.

-

Everyone knows that when Yuriko married into this family, she brought along her almost official paramour - Fujita.

Although the two of them could ascertain their love for each other after having overcome various difficulties, they couldn't get married because of their different social statuses.

To be fair, though, perhaps it was Yuriko herself who deliberately alienated the opinion of marrying Fujita.

To Yuriko. Fujita is someone who might as well have been destined to serve her forever. She would like to think that she can't just suddenly flip the switch within her and start worshiping him as her husband.

Besides, somewhere along the way, Yuriko began to develop a penchant for bullying Fujita.

She is obsessed with him. She doesn't want to let go of him. She wants to keep him bound to her forever. But marriage is out of the question.

So Yuriko decided to accept Shiba's marriage proposal. She figured marriage with Shiba would be the best solution for both her and Fujita.

She might have bullied Fujita so much that lately, he appears to be broken. He doesn't think twice before clinging to her openly in public and making those around them wince away in disgust.

Fujita likes to drink the small amount of milk that Yuriko's breasts still produce.

After the act, Yuriko's body would be covered with a large amount of cloudy liquid because they're not allowed to have children together.

Yuriko's body is always covered with white mucus because Fujita, who is obsessed with her breasts, rubs her in the middle of the day.

And Fujita always licks it all up. Cleaning Yuriko's body with his own tongue.

However, even after licking all of her, he would still sucks on her nipples persistently. He really looked like a baby.

The servants scorn him, calling him "the madam's dog" behind his back.

The title is also meant to ridicule Fujita's fetich. It all began when someone saw him kissing Yuriko's toes in the hall.

But the two of them aren't bothered by what people think at all.

The most important thing to them is to keep this relationship out of harm's way.

It doesn't matter what other people think or say about them.

Although her expression of love might be distorted, Yuriko does love Fujita.

He too has sworn loyalty to Yuriko, much like a dog.

-

Yuriko held out her slender white finger to Fujita, who seemed to be impatiently waiting until they arrived at the restaurant.

Fujita is ecstatic and sucks her finger. Engage his tongue and stuff his cheeks up to the base of her fingers.

Yuriko: "Does it taste good, Fujita "

Fujita: "Yes... yes... it's delicious...”

Yuriko: "Fufu… How cute. Look, we'll be there soon. Hold on a little longer."

Fujita stares at Yuriko with empty eyes.

As she lightly touches his crotch, it remains hot and ferocious.

Feeling the excitement on her fingers, Yuriko also knew that honey was leaking from the depths of her secret part.

When she wiggle her hips a little unbearably, the wet sound of his lips resounds slightly.

Fujita gasped more and more, and just as he was about to embrace Yuriko, the car slowly stopped.

Fujita pushed Yuriko down the moment the maid closed the back room where their usual futon was spread out.

Fujita: "Haa, haa, my lady..."

Yuriko: "Ah, that hurts my back so much, next time untie the obi before you do it..."

At Yuriko's slight resistance, Fujita let out a wild sigh like a beast, and deftly untied the obi with his fingertips as he trembled with excitement.

When the united obi dangled loosely, Fujita threw it toward the alcove as a hindrance.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the front of the kimono and undergarments are opened, exposing Yuriko's pure white skin.

Fujita: "Oh... my lady, my lady..."

Fujita grabbed  her two plump breasts that swayed on her delicate torso, and licked her pink nipples.

Yuriko: "Oh..."

Fujita: "Mnn, mnn, ah, my lady..."

He sucks strongly, and the back of her uterus becomes numb.

Yuriko's nipples have grown so big because Fujita always sticks to them.

The nipples that used to be sucked by her children are now being sucked by this giant half-breed man.

Yuriko let out a smile at the strange sight and gently stirred Fujita's hair, who was absorbed in sucking her milk.

It's been a few years since she gave birth to a child. Breast milk does not come out so easily now.

Yuriko: “Fujita…You really something will come out again?”

Fujita: "Haa, haa, fuai, yes haa, a little bit of sweet and sour liquid comes out..." "Oh, yes, yes, my lady produces a lot of milk that she gives to me..."

Fujita, who was obsessed only with her breasts because he was so hungry, groped Yuriko's whole body as if he had come up with a good idea.

Then, he took out his own, which was completely facing the sky and dripping tears, and gently rubbed it up and down.

Yuriko let out a lustful sigh as she saw that huge penis that was still extraordinarily large.

It feels so good. At first it was just pain, but now she feels like she would go crazy without Fujita's tools.

Yes, Fujita isn't the only one who is obsessed with this affair.

Yuriko was completely captivated by Fujita's body.

Fujita: "Ah... my lady is already so wet..."

With her nipple still in his mouth, Fujita rubbed Yuriko's most sensitive spot with his fingers.

When Fujita's fingers rubbed her large, puffy bean, she felt like she's going crazy.

Yuriko: "Haa, ah, that's enough Fujita, hurry up..."

Fujita: "U-Understand, my lady..."

Fujita hugs Yuriko's knees and presses his big glans against her gaping labia.

And the moment Yuriko slipped his large shaft inside, she started to clamp up.

Yuriko: "Haah... ah, ah..."

Fujita: "Oh...my lady's insides are undulating..." Ah, amazing, ah... My lady wanted me so much..."

Fujita trembled and pushed his cock all the way into Yuriko's womb.

Yuriko: "Oh..."

Yuriko was ecstatic with sweet sweet pleasure as her cervix was pierced.

As her entrance is filled with his thick roots, it is tingling sweetly.

Her erect clitoris is rubbed by Fujita's pubic hair, and the pleasure that seems to leak out overflows.

Fujita: "Ah, a little of my lady's milk came out..."

Fujita went crazy and licked Yuriko's milk.

At the same time, his rhythm begins to speed up, and Yuriko's ripe honeypot is stirred by his hot cock.

Yuriko: "Haa, ah, feel, ah, good, so good, Fujita...!"

Fujita: "Ha, ha, ah, amazing, my lady, you are so excited, the more excited you get, the more sweet milk comes from you." "Oh, oh, please give me more milk! Please, it tastes so good!"

Yuriko: "Oh! Oh, hi, ah, ah, ah, ah!"

Fujita's big cock violently clamps Yuriko's cervix so hard that you could almost hear the sound of cum spurting out.

Fujita's is long and thick, so he can reach her deepest part even if he doesn't go that deep.

Because he tried to push it all the way to the root, her sensitive cervix was pushed up, and a storm of violent pleasure attacked Yuriko.

Yuriko: "Hi! Hi! Ugh, u, ah, ah, ah"

Fujita:

"Oh, oh! Oh, My lady, you're leaking, oh, so much white milk... oh, oh."

"Oh, it's delicious, oh, it's the best, please give me more!"

Yuriko: "Ugh, mnn!!"

Fujita shook his hips like crazy, and Yuriko's legs swayed like a toy.

Her innermost part was pierced in quick succession, and her love juice overflowed like a flood made an unimaginable sound without any hesitation.

Yuriko was already in a distant state of trance, even though she felt a slimy wetness down her groin.

When that happened, she could no longer remember what she said or did.

Time passes quickly. Before she knew it, it was noon the next day.

Fujita: "Ah, my lady, ah, my lady's breasts, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!"

Fujita gleefully sucks the white breast milk that is dripping down while picking up her breasts.

Yuriko even wonders if her breast milk contains drugs.

Fujita's obsession with milk was already pathological.

She even felt that Fujita's tenacity was causing her to produce milk that had already served its purpose.

Fujita: "Ah, ah, ah! I'm coming, my lady, ah, I'm coming, ah!!

Yuriko: "Ha, ah, ah, good, ah, take it out, ah, please, please...!"

Fujita: "Hah, uh, hi, ah, ah, it's out, it's out, my lady, ah, ah, ah!"

Fujita pulled his penis out of Yuriko with a flick of force, and stirred like a beast.

Then, from his dark red tip, a thick seed vigorously stains Yuriko's white belly and breasts.

Yuriko: "Oh... Fujita...!"

Yuriko narrowed her eyes in enchantment as she felt the thick seed touch her sensitive skin.

The mucous membrane that was violently rolled up and hot and moist was twitching and peristaltic.

Fujita, who had run out of semen, buried his tool, which had not lost its momentum, between the gaps between her labia, which was wistfully melting again.

Yuriko: "Aaahh!"

Her whole body shudders, and sweat pours out of her pores.

Yuriko, who had reached an unknown number of climaxes, bending back and flexing her toes.

Fujita: "Haa... ah... it feels good... inside my lady... it's so wet and tight..."

Fujita licks Yuriko's milk and his own bodily fluids scattered on Yuriko's skin with a stunned expression.

Fujita never stops sucking Yuriko's body while ferociously moving his hips.

Fujita: "Haa...ah, my lady..." "Please have mercy... give me more, more of my lady's milk..."

Yuriko: "Hi!! Hyaaa!!"

Than Yuriko flies to paradise.

A large amount of love juice leaked out, and white milk floated from the thick nipples that stood erect.

Her cliturus is rubbed up without interruption and her cervix is beaten again and again.

Yuriko wanders to the extremes of heaven while scratching Fujita's head.

Fujita: "Ahaha, aha, my lady, ah, feel so good, ah, aha"

His sticky, wet tongue keeps crawling over her smooth skin.

He looked exactly like a dog.

He was a beautiful fluffy dog with purple eyes.

END

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

Gorgeous gorgeous girls go feral for her

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Happy Birthday to...

Sophie von der Pfalz, Electress of Hannover, and James VII and II, born on 14 October 1630 and 1633 respectively.

James and Sophie remained in lifelong contact, and the exiled James considered her one of his few allies.

...Little did he know that Sophie was close with both William and Mary, growing particularly fond of the latter in an almost maternal capacity.

Sophie- the woman who would almost have been Queen of England twice

Originally a candidate for marrying James' brother, the recently restored Charles II, the latter settled for Catherine of Braganza instead.

Rather than as consort, Sophie later would almost have become Queen in her own right when the Act of Settlement, implemented by William III, named her as heir presumptive to the crown.

When Sophie visited The Hague with her little niece Liselotte in the winter of 1659/1660, little did she know that one day, the nine-year-old William of Nassau who romped through the Binnenhof palace with her niece would become King of England, and declare her the heir presumptive to the throne. At the time, Sophie was heavily pregnant with her son Georg Ludwig, the future George I who became King of Great Britain when Queen Anne died in 1714. Sophie, alas, had predeceased the much younger Anne by a mere handful of weeks.

Sophie on her own birthday:

In 1680, the year she turned fifty, Sophie decided to write her own memoirs, including a description of her birth and early years. Here is what she had to say on the circumstances of her birth:

Sophie, Electress of Hannover and Köcher, Adolf [Ed]: Memoiren der Herzogin Sophie nachmals Kurfürstin von Hannover, Leipzig 1879, p. 33.

They told me that I was born in the year 1630 on the 14th of October, and since I was the 12th fruit of the marriage of the King my father and the Queen my mother, I think that my birth did not cause them any other joy than that of my no longer occupying the place I previously did. They were even at a loss which name and which godparents one should give me, as all the kings and princes to be considered had already taken this trouble for the children who had preceded me. It had pleased them to put various names on slips of paper and to draw from them the name I was to receive, and chance gave me that of Sophie; and to choose godmothers for me who had that name, the King picked the Princess Palatine of Birkenfeld, Countess of Hohenlohe, the Countess of Cuylenburg and Madame de Brederode, Countess of Nassau, and as godfathers the states of Frisia.

Happy birthday, Sophie von Hannover! She may have been the 12th child of her parents, but she left us first-rate sources in the shape of her memoirs and parts of her correspondence, providing a window into 17th century life and politics.

[rphelperblog]

Gilded Book Quote Rp Meme

book by Marissa Meyer- feel free to edit or change pronouns for rp purposes

“I suppose spite can be a weapon, too.”

“Absolutely. My favorite, in fact. Well. Other than a sword. Because who doesn’t love a sword?”

“Judging by your weaponry, I suspect you spend a great deal of time dueling and competing in target practice.”

“I may not have fully considered the repercussions.” 

“I’m just wondering if you plan to stand there gawking at me all night?

“The boundary between truth and fiction felt thinner every day.” 

“No, I’m not a witch. And I didn’t summon you. I was just sitting here, crying, contemplating my own demise, thank you muchly.” 

“The world was full of small enchantments, when one was willing to look for them.”

“How can you not? It’s your story?”

“Not every story has a happy ending. Life isn’t like that, you know.”

“I don’t think a shred of civility is unwarranted.”

“The superstitions of humans are so often the result of ignorance and ill-placed blame.”

“Suit yourself. After all, why he accommodating when one can be difficult?”

“Not every story is willing to reveal itself right away. Some of them are bashful.” 

“Books are meant to be shared.” 

“You only needed to say please. If you’re concerned with etiquette, that might be a good place to start.”

“I find that only mildly comforting.”

“That was one thing she loved about children. They were always surprising her.”

“But I prefer natural charm over vanity and brute strength.”

“It would appear that you’re trying to be aggravating, but that is my talent, I’ll have you know.” 

“A mortal in your realm. I’ve been paying attention.” 

“He was just one more jewel in her crown of guilt. One more person she'd failed.” 

“Unrequited love sounds awful.”

“Once my pupil, always my pupil,”

“this bargain is binding and unbreakable, and I fully expect you to stay alive long enough to fulfill your end of it. Do you understand me?”

“Despite your apparent disdain for this poetry, I think you’re a romantic.”

“I will gladly take awful over indifferent. Not every story has a happy ending. Life isn’t like that, you know.” 

You say those words like they’re bad things. But when it comes to the age-old art of storytelling, you need darkness to appreciate the light.” 

“Well, you might be a little in love with your own brilliance.” 

“I’m just wondering if you plan to stand there gawking at me all night?”

“If you’re suggesting I take a nap instead, I’ll gladly comply.”

“Your jokes. Your…pranks. You wield laughter like a weapon, a protection against your awful circumstances. I think you’re trying to create lightness where there is so much dark.”

“I feel so close to you both. Shall we embrace?”

“Would it hurt to ask politely?”

“You are very persuasive.”

“You’ll do it? You’ll accept that offer?”

“You win. I’ve decided to help you.”

“Absolutely horrid, but only a romantic would think so.”

“Of course not. But you still haven’t told me how, exactly, you plan to help me.”

“But that was nearly an entire year away. An entire year to dream up delectable, fanciful tales to awe and frighten the little goslings who were forced to attend this soulless school. Poor things.” 

"This may come as a surprise to you, madam, but your opinion is not required.”

“ Please. Do this for me one more time and I’ll give you…“I’ll give you my firstborn child!”

“I’m fine, Papa. Not kidnapped, not ferried away by some ghoul. After all, who would want me, really?”

“Would you care to hear a story?”

“I’m sure you’re fond of me, but to ask for my hand in marriage? I’m quite flattered, but we barely—

“Exactly. I always like hearing a story when I work. Or…in my case, making one up. Time slips away and before you know it, you’re finished. And all the while, you’ve been transported somewhere vibrant and exciting and wonderful.”

“But she had heard, and told enough stories to know that it was never wise to ignore the summons of a magical creature.” 

“My magic won’t work without a payment of some sort. It isn’t my rule, but there it is. You’ll have to give me something.”

“All of my favorite stories are about love, and I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about what it would be like, and wishing…” 

“It was mostly gloom and death and darkness.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m saving your life.” 

“Sometimes superstitions are all that we have been given by the gods in order to make sense of our world. Superstitions…and stories.” 

“Now, that’s the sort of education that might come in handy someday,” 

“you’re in my way. Please and thank you.”

“You aren’t dead yet. That’s a distinct advantage over just about everyone else in this castle.”

“Any ghoul would be blasted lucky to have you.” 

"Selfish child. You are already a blight on this community, and now you will bring wickedness upon us!"

Her wandering mind getting her into trouble yet again.” 

“Fairy tales have happy endings! The prince is supposed to save the princess. Kill the Erlking and the huntress, then they both ride on home to their awaiting family and are celebrated by all the land. Happily. Forever! What is this…this rubbish, what with the king stabbing his sister, the prince getting mauled by his hounds… I can’t remember all too many stories, but I’m certain that this is the absolute worst I’ve ever heard.” 

“What child could resist the allure of such magic? The images of fae creatures dancing on toadstools and water sprites bathing in brooks and songbirds with glowing feathers alighting on the branches overhead.” 

My job is to prepare you for adulthood.” 

“Your stories, I think they’re sort of like spinning, too. Because it’s like you’re making something beautiful out of nothing.” 

“I’m done telling tales. Starting today, you’ll get nothing but boring news and the most trivial of facts. For example, did you know that playing three particular notes on the hackbrett will summon a demon?”

“ That tale did not sparkle,”

“ But there are two sides to every story. The hero and the villain. The dark and the light. The blessing and the curse. And what the miller had not understood is that the god of stories is also the god of lies. 

A trickster god.”

“Lately, all her stories had featured haunted ruins and nightmare monsters and heartless kings. Burning hounds and a stolen princess.” 

Is the little human afraid of the beasts?”

“I will not let you toil here forever. And until that day comes, I promise, I will tell you the happiest of stories to take your minds away from all of this. Where the heroes are victorious. The villains vanquished. Where everyone who is just and kind and brave is granted a perfect finale.” 

“All these miraculous beasts,

“Would that I could spin straw into gold. It’d be far more useful than this…spinning nothing but silly stories.” 

A real witch—not the way some petty people use the word to describe an unlikable woman with a haggard appearance, though she was that, too.” 

“ The true beginning was in the before times, when monsters roamed freely outside the veil that now separates them from mortals, and demons sometimes fell in love.” 

“I’m already dead.”

“gold has caused as many problems as it has ever solved.” 

“Cats don’t get much notice, but a toad? Could cause all sorts of trouble at the next feast.” 

“If she wasn't beholden to the truth of what had happened under the full moon, then she would have no qualms about embellishing it.” 

“You couldn’t have told him you could spin gold from silk, or even wool?”

“ When she talked, she could hardly keep herself from telling the most outlandish tales, as though her tongue could not tell the difference between truth and falsehoods. She began to trade in stories and lies herself, and while the other children delighted in her tales—so full of whimsy and enchantment—the elders knew better.” 

“One can only go around kidnapping people and butchering magical creatures for so many centuries before it gets tiresome.” 

“ The child was forever marked with untrustworthy eyes—pitch black irises, each overlaid by a golden wheel with eight tiny golden spikes. The wheel of fate and fortune, which, if you are wise, you know is the greatest deception of all. Such a peculiar gaze ensured that all who saw her would know she had been touched by old magic.” 

“She was not dead. She was not a ghost, like the children, like the rest of the king’s servants. But what did that make her? Tired, she thought. She felt so very tired. Yet restless, too.”

[charmingyong]

Only Fate Can Tell

Prologue

Genre: Jaehyun x fem!reader, adorable bestfriend!Taeyong x Irene, marriage, fluff, slowburn, humour, angst

Warnings: slowburn, brief mention of mental health, babysitting children, alcohol consumption, awkward feelings, unrequited love, blinded by assumed thoughts,  an idiot to not acknowledge the feelings of love, suggestive at the end

Word count: 16k

Plot: You didn’t want to marry, but your parents were keen to find you a life partner considering your age. After numerous failed attempts of finding an alliance because you rejected all the potential ones after first meeting, your parents gave you a warning if you rejected yet another one. Therefore, much to your dismay, you chose to give Jung Jaehyun a chance.

A/N: This is a story of what happens before the marriage takes place (i.e. no married life scene in this part, and I will be writing a sequel). A few scenes were inspired by ‘The Return of Superman’ show. There’s a small surprise for Jaeyong stans. Songs of inspiration: Jaehyun’s I Like Me Better (Lauv), Love Me Now (NCT 127). Disclaimer: Taeyong x Irene is only for a fictional purpose in this story. If triggered, do not read this.

Gif: mine

© 2021 charmingyong.

- ❀ -

You dragged your feet to the entrance of the top floor restaurant, your palms getting sweaty as the doors slid open, making you hear the soft music more clearly. You were nowhere near interested in the blind date that your parents had set you up with. Even though you were itching to not show your face to the unfortunate man that had to see you, you didn’t have the heart to have your date be stood up by you.

You made eye contact with a female greeting you upon entry into the elegant establishment. “Hello ma’am. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, his name is Qian Kun.”

“Ah yes, please come this way.” She led you past the tables with light chatters, and you reached the end of the room where a man sat looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the miniature vehicles zooming on the highway.

“Sir, your date has arrived.”

Kun pried his eyes away from the window and towards you, a smile taking its place on his face. “Hello Miss Y/N. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the empty chair across him.

You nodded, timidly sitting down with your eyes wandering everywhere except on his.

“Would you like anything for starters?” he asked you gently.

You pursed your lips and shook your head. “Um, I need to tell you something.”

His lips formed an ‘oh’ and signaled for the server to leave you momentarily. “Yes, what is it?”

You took a deep breath in. “I only came here because my parents have been pestering me nonstop to get married. I’m really sorry but I’m not interested in marriage. It has nothing to do with you. It’s just me and I’m really sorry about that.”

Kun nodded, smiling tenderly at you. “I completely understand. I’m also here for that same reason.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You too?”

“Yes. I actually want to focus on my career, and so I was hoping to get married like a few years from now. Definitely not now,” he spoke his last words quietly.

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad we’re both on the same boat. So I guess I’ll be going then since there’s no point for me to be here now,” you chuckled nervously.

He shook his head. “Please don’t. It’d be a shame to have you leave here with an empty stomach. This can just be a friendly dinner. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

You couldn’t say no to his kind eyes, especially when he was being a gentleman. “A friendly dinner it is.”

- ❀ -

You rang the doorbell and waited for a few seconds. The door flung open, revealing a smiling Irene. “Y/N! How did it go?” she beamed, excited to hear the details.

“You know the answer to that.” You took off your shoes and walked inside the clean spacious condo. Your eyes landed on little Aera who was on her four and you cooed, running up to her. You picked her up, cradling her tiny body in your arms and smooching a number of kisses all over her face. In return, Aera squealed happily from the sudden love attack.

Irene sighed. “You seriously did it again? Not give him a chance?”

You sat down on the couch with Aera on your lap. “Well, we did have a friendly dinner. And besides, he wasn’t interested in marriage either and he wanted to focus on his career.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You got saved this time, but it might not happen again. I don’t know how many times your parents are going to let it slide until they’ve had enough and force you into an arranged marriage.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t this arranged anyway? Having to go on blind dates that they set me up with?”

“Yeah but you have a choice right now to say yes or no. What if next time you don’t get so lucky and they get fed up with you having to constantly reject every single one, and they force you into a marriage without your consent?”

You stilled, staring at Aera’s joyful face. Irene was right. There was a chance that you might not be lucky one day and be forced into a marriage without love. But you wanted to trust your parents that they’d let you choose your partner, no matter how long it’d take.

- ❀ -

You drove to your next blind date a few days later. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as you ground your teeth, remembering back to your parents’ words the previous night. Even though your head was heated, you tried to focus on the calming music that played from the audio system in your car, safely driving down the streets without any road rage.

You parked the car in the near vacant lot and stepped out. The date was held yet again at a luxurious restaurant and you sighed.

At least it’s not as expensive looking like the past ones, you thought.

You grasped the golden handle and pushed it open. The lighting wasn’t too bright, just dim enough to create a cozy ambiance.

“Hello madam, are you F/N L/N?” The male inquired.

Bewildered, you nodded. “Yes. How did you know?”

He smiled politely. “The entire restaurant is currently booked for Mister Jung Jaehyun.”

You looked around and indeed found it unoccupied of customers, only spotting a male figure at the opposite end of the place, his back facing you at a table.

“Please come this way.”

You followed, your legs becoming heavier with every step and your heart pounded in your chest.

Please let everything go well with him, you prayed silently.

The server pulled out your chair and you sat down without giving your date a glance. Once you were settled, you then looked up and your breathing halted momentarily.

His soft eyes were trained on you, along with a smile accompanied by dimples so handsome that you almost swooned.

But good looks aren’t going to mean anything if there’s no love, you thought.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N,” he greeted warmly.

You forced a smile out of courtesy. “Same here, Jaehyun.”

- ❀ -

“So how’s Jaehyun?” your mother asked with an vibrant smile.

You sighed. “Okay I guess.”

“So it’s a yes then,” your father stated.

You almost glared at him. “The date was okay. I didn’t feel anything with him.” Your palms were clenched tightly while you tried to slow your breathing down.

“Oh sweetie, you don’t have to feel anything for him. Love doesn’t have to happen right now. And Jaehyun’s a good boy. I’m sure he’ll make you happy,” your mother said.

You groaned quietly. “What if love never happens? He can’t make me happy if I don’t love him.”

“Your mother and I didn’t have any love in the beginning, but we learned to care for each other.”

“Caring is not the same as love.”

His hard gaze was locked on you. “It is.”

Grinding your teeth, you could never beat your father with his words.

Your father mentioned beforehand that if the date with Jaehyun also failed, then he was going to force you in a relationship with a man that you wouldn’t see until the day of the wedding. This meant that you were now, technically, arranged to marry Jaehyun.

You were at an age where your friends and relatives were already married, even having children. Your parents viewed societal expectations more important than your own, and so that resulted in you having to go on numerous blind dates with you fully prepared to turn down every single guy no matter what. You wanted to marry someone that you would love, and all the dates that your parents had set you up with were of men that met their ideal type as their future son-in-law.

The date with Jaehyun felt more awkward than with any previous ones. That was because with Jaehyun, you weren’t just there ready to reject him in the face as politely as possible, but you were trying to accept him as your future husband. While that would be something teenage you would squeal about in high school, you cringed greatly at that in your twenties. Your teenage self always dreamt of a grand wedding with the love of your life. But growing up, you accepted the reality. Not everyone was lucky to meet their love and the fact that you hadn’t met yours made you pessimistic.

Pessimistic that love wasn’t written in your fate.

So far, Jaehyun did seem like an okay guy and you could only wish that your feelings would grow for him, especially before the marriage date. Nothing about him upon first meeting had you dreading of a thing that you didn’t like in him. But... “Can I please seriously ask you something without you two being biased?”

Your parents looked a each other, embracing themselves for what you had to inquire. “Sure sweetie, what is it?”

You gulped down the bump forming in your throat. “What if I find out something bad about him before the wedding, or something I don’t like in him? Do I have to force myself to be with him still?” you asked with a puppy look to make your parents grow soft for you and agree.

A brief silence was what you were met with as they silently conversed with one another through their eyes. Your father released a long breath afterwards. “You have up until the time before the wedding invitations are distributed to give me a reason why you shouldn’t marry Jaehyun. And it must be a valid reason.”

- ❀ -

“Tae, are you even listening to me?”

His gaze was lowered onto the floating strawberries that swam around in his drink. “Yeah I am.” He took a long sip and smiled, humming in satisfaction. “Are you going to eat your pastry?”

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your seat. “You’re clearly not. My future is on the line and you want my pastry? You’re not even reacting to whatever I’m saying.”

He lifted his doe eyes onto you. “I am. But based on whatever you just said, the date didn’t sound like it went necessarily bad. All that happened was small talk and you two were silent most of the time.”

Your jaw dropped. “So now your gonna be on my parents’ side? Just because we were mostly silent doesn’t mean it didn’t go bad. What if we’re going to be like this after marriage? I can’t handle this awkwardness, Tae!”

“I’m not saying that I’m siding with your parents but give Jaehyun a chance. It was only the first meeting so obviously it’s going to feel awkward. Plus, based on the picture you showed me, he’s good looking.”

You blinked. “So?”

He shrugged, looking innocently at you. “Cute babies?”

“Shut up Lee Taeyong!”

He laughed, his head falling backward.

You sighed. “I can’t believe this. Why am I being forced into a marriage? Can’t they let me choose my partner?”

“They have been letting you for years, but you kept putting it off, Y/N.”

“Because I didn’t find the love of my life? I don’t like my parents’ choices where they always choose the one with money. I don’t want to marry a guy who’s only good with first impression but ends up being boring after marriage. I wanna meet someone like you, Tae. You’re so easy to love.”

Taeyong giggled. “I’m sure there are better guys out there than me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, you’re literally like the biggest cutest sweetheart on earth. I can’t even imagine someone beating your level. Irene is so lucky. If you didn’t fall in love with her, I would have asked for your hand in marriage,” you joked.

He shook his head, laughing hard. “Stop! You’re too much, Y/N. But don’t assume that all guys your parents try to set you up with are going to be boring. You don’t know the charms that Jaehyun’s carrying and before you know it, you’ll be falling for him.”

You sighed heavily. “Sounds too good to be true.”

He smiled sincerely. “Leave it up to your fate.” He looked behind you at the display case of the various baked goods before looking at your untouched pastry again. “So are you eating that or not?”

A smile tugged at your lips and you pushed your plate towards him. “Eat up. You need it more than me to keep up with the little angels in your home.”

After Taeyong devoured the chocolate tart, you both stepped out of the coffee shop with plans of heading over to the movies.

“I wish Irene could come with us, but the kids...” you trailed off.

Aera was only 9 months old and there was no way that little bundle would sit quietly for two hours unless she dozed off. Even if the problem was solved with Aera, Jinae was a year older and she was quite a curious and an energetic one. Though not more than Chunghee, the 4-year-old boy who was at the perfect age to be labeled as the troublemaker in the household.

“When I watch over the kids, you and Irene can have your girls night out. Or day, whatever time of the day it is.”

“Please make a vlog. I wanna see you struggle.”

Taeyong laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you but they love me more than Irene so they’re always listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe they’re scared of you.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m sure they’re scared of Irene.”

You giggled. “I can see that being the case more.”

After paying for the tickets, you and Taeyong walked in the direction of the designated auditorium. Halfway through, Taeyong halted. “Awe man!”

“What is it?”

“I want sweet potato chips. But the vending machines aren’t here anymore,” he pouted.

You pondered for a bit, recalling back to the food counter by the entrance. “I think I saw them selling it at the front.”

His eyes brightened. “Really? Okay stay right here. I’ll be back soon.” He sprinted off in the next second, leaving you amused by his usual childlike behaviour. You pulled your phone out to entertain yourself for the time being.

“Y/N?” A deep voice called out your name and you looked up to find the man that you were unexpectedly seeing for the second time. Your body tensed hearing his voice again, and your heart skipped a beat when your eyes landed on his outfit. It was nice to see Jaehyun wear denim, something outside of the formal attire at the restaurant. In his hands was a container full of popcorn.

“Oh Jaehyun. What a surprise,” you awkwardly chuckled.

He grinned at you. “It is. Are you here alone?”

You shook your head. “No, my friend went to get some snacks. Are you?”

“My friend had to go do something. I was waiting for him until I saw you from the distance.”

Right on cue, a tall man appeared beside Jaehyun and genuinely smiled at you. “Oh, hi there. I’m Johnny.”

You gave him a tight smile. “I’m Y/N.”

His eyes went wide. “Y/N?” He turned to Jaehyun and repeated. “Y/N?” Johnny raised his eyebrows incredulously. He received a nod from Jaehyun and faced you again. “Oh my goodness. I heard about you and it’s seriously a pleasure to meet you.”

“Huh?”

He laughed at your puzzled expression while Jaehyun avoided your gaze nervously, his cheeks dusting pink. “It’s nice to see Jaehyun talk about something other than his work. He’s so devoted to his work that he sometimes forgets to chill out.”

Your heart fell at his words.

Devoted to his work.

You were not into men who were so passionate about their work that they’d forget about their well being. And not just well being, but they’d spend less time with their significant other.

Taeyong used to be like that until Irene was diagnosed with postpartum depression. He then took time off from work for Irene’s recovery. With his full attention on her and taking care of their first-born, Irene fully recovered with the prescribed treatments and Taeyong’s love, and you were relieved that the illness didn’t come back with Jinae and Aera.

You weren’t necessarily afraid of what happened to Irene. Taeyong had to get back to work after Irene’s recovery and they were able to pull through because there was love and understanding between them. There was no love between you and Jaehyun, and so your relationship, whatever little there was, had to depend on understanding one another. And that was going to be difficult when you weren’t interested in the man.

You pursed your lip, anxiously waiting for your friend’s return.

And finally he did with three bags of chips in his arms. “Sorry I took long. Oh! Jaehyun, right? Hi, I’m Taeyong. And you must be his friend, am I right?” he asked the taller one, shaking his hand.

“Yes, the name is Johnny. Nice to meet you, Taeyong. And boy, you have some strength.” Johnny was always the one with the most amount of strength. Therefore, having to meet someone who possessed nearly the same amount was impressive to him.

Taeyong chuckled. “Well I definitely do need it when having to look after my kids.”

It was a coincidence that the other two were there to watch the same movie as you. Taeyong suggested for them to sit with you two, and you sent your friend a small glare to which he responded with a smirk.

That was how you ended up sitting beside Taeyong and Jaehyun, squirming a little in your seat. During the advertisements, you noticed a popcorn container being offered to you by none other than your future husband. And you felt a slight pang in your heart.

“Sorry but I don’t like popcorn,” you admitted.

He was taken aback slightly before nodding and placed his popcorn on his lap, all while avoiding your gaze. You felt a bit bad. He was trying to be nice to you, but you weren’t going to force yourself to eat something that you weren’t a fan of.

Right after, Taeyong offered you his snack. You loved sweet potato chips, being the one to actually introduce it to your friend and you were proud to have him addicted to them. You took hold of the bag entirely, hearing a whine from him. You munched on the chips and hummed happily.

Jaehyun observed this and felt a stab of jealousy.

- ❀ -

“Jinae!” you beamed at the little girl waddling up to your open arms. You picked her up and swung her around in circles, making her laugh cheerfully.

“Wow Jinae, you really betrayed papa for Y/N auntie,” Taeyong sulked.

You stuck your tongue out playfully at him and pecked Jinae on her squishy cheek.

Chunghee ran up to his dad, crying with teary eyes. “Aigoo, what happened?” Taeyong kneeled down to meet his son’s level.

“Mama force me fruits!” he wailed.

Taeyong closed his eyes. “I should have known Ten uncle was going to be a bad influence on you,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe you trusted Ten with Chunghee. Wasn’t it only for an hour?”

He nodded in response and wiped the little boy’s tears away, kissing his forehead and picking him up with his strong arms. He carried Chunghee off to the bedroom while you sat down on the couch with Jinae in your lap.

“Don’t become like your brother and eat fruits, okay? Don’t stress your papa out.”

“Eung,” she responded in promise. You smiled at her and ruffled her hair, earning a smile from the baby.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, moving Jinae down beside you. You pulled it out that displayed Jaehyun’s name on the screen. Right after the movie ended, you bid Jaehyun and his friend a quick bye and dragged Taeyong out the theaters, not giving a chance for small talk.

You hesitantly answered the call and pressed the phone against your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi Y/N,” he greeted softly. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, guessing where that question would lead to.

A date.

As much as you wanted to lie and avoid him, it ultimately wasn’t going to do any good for anyone, including yourself. Spending more time with him meant more opportunities to find a flaw in him.

“Um, yeah- I mean no! I’m not free- I mean I AM free... tomorrow. Haha.” You wanted to slap yourself in the head.

If it weren’t for the silence on both ends, you would have missed the almost inaudible giggle from him. “Can I come pick you up tomorrow around lunchtime? For a date?”

“Sure, yeah, sounds great,” you smiled awkwardly.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Once the call ended, you were ready to chuck your phone across the room before tossing it next to you and slumped against the couch, physically cringing at how the conversation went. Jinae curiously watched you, her baby lips forming an ‘oh’ followed by her eyes crinkling in amusement.

- ❀ -

The doorbell rang to your home, which your mother giddily ran up to the front. A smiling Jaehyun was revealed on the other side who held a bouquet of warm-coloured flowers.

“Hello Mrs. L/N.”

“Jaehyun! Lovely to see you. Come on in now,” she ushered him inside.

Jaehyun’s eyes wandered around the interior design of the house, catching sight of the wall with framed photos of your life, ranging from your birth to your graduation. The smile tugging at his lips was enough to have your mother beam at him.

“Y/N has always been such as adorable girl. Isn’t she pretty?” She cooed at the pictures of little you laugh towards the camera, your pupils hidden behind your closed eyelids.

Jaehyun felt something in his heart. When he first saw you at the restaurant, he thought you were more beautiful in person. The surprise encounter at the movies had his heart skipping a beat. Standing in front of a collage containing various stages of your life made his heart flutter, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He really liked you and wished everything would go well with this marriage.

“She’s beautiful,” he replied with sparkling eyes.

You stood hidden away behind a wall, eavesdropping. To say you felt embarrassed was an understatement. You cringed on the inside every time someone walked into the house and stared at your pictures. You never liked the idea, but you didn’t have a say in it as it was your parents’ house after all.

To hear your future husband call you beautiful after seeing those photos had heat threatening to burn your cheeks and a warm feeling spread in your chest.

“Jaehyun, can I ask you something?” your mother asked.

“Of course.”

She swallowed before parting her lips. “You see, Y/N’s been trying to put off her marriage for a while and I’m not sure exactly how she’s treating you.”

He nodded, comprehending her words clearly. During the first date, he noticed your jitteriness and near lack of liveliness to continue the conversation as if you weren’t interested in him at all, and that hurt him. To see you interact with your friend in a brighter manner made him jealous. Jealous that you wouldn’t see him like the way you would with Taeyong. Though he understood that your relationship with him was new and he was willing to give you all the time you needed to become comfortable with him one day.

“While her father and I made her give you a chance, you’re not obligated to be forced into this marriage if you’re not happy. If you ever want to back out, I ask you to do it only because you’re feeling that way. Not because of Y/N. I really think you’re a perfect match for her and I’m sure it’ll take time before you can fully win her heart.”

You gulped upon hearing your mother say all that to Jaehyun. This meant that if Jaehyun didn’t like something about you, he could back out of the alliance. Your brain celebrated in near victory that it wasn’t going to be a fully forced marriage, as both the bride- and groom-to-be had your voices free, increasing the chances for either of you to call off the wedding.

“I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Y/N,” Jaehyun assured.

You stepped out, walking up to where they both stood. He caught sight of you and sent you a charming smile, his dimples on full display.

You on the other hand grew curious of the bouquet in his grasp. He realized what you were staring at and grew flustered.

“Oh sorry!” He seemed like he was in a dilemma, whether to hand the bunch over to you or your mother, opting for the latter. “I-I brought these for your home,” he stuttered with the tips of his ears turning red.

Your mother giggled at his behaviour. “Oh thank you, Jaehyun. I thought you were giving those to Y/N. Seems like you got distracted by pictures of baby Y/N,” she teased.

Both yours and Jaehyun’s cheeks burned at your mother’s words.

After saying bye to your mother, Jaehyun beat you to opening the passenger door, holding it wide open for you to get in. You thanked him with a tight smile.

He had one hand on the steering wheel while the other fumbled around with the stereo, a song played softly in the background as he focused both on the road and on your tensed figure.

“I know this ramen place if you’re interested,” he spoke after some time.

You remembered mentioning to him in your small talk that you loved to eat ramen. Having him remembering the small detail made you feel a spark inside. “Ramen sounds great.” And what felt like the first time when being with Jaehyun, a small smile slowly spilled onto your face, not going unnoticed by the one beside you.

After two sets of bowls arrived at your table, your eyes drunk in the beautiful arrangement of the toppings on the noodles. You were about to pick up your chopsticks until Jaehyun stopped you. “Don’t touch yours just yet.”

You blinked at him confusedly yet stilled.

Grabbing his chopsticks in each hand, he worked with his bowl, mixing the pieces of vegetables and meats into the broth, folding the noodles on top. Once done, he laid down the chopsticks in its holder and switched his touched bowl with your untouched one.

You stared at your meal, surprised that such a simple action had your insides squealing with a fuzzy feeling. “Thank you,” you muttered, a bashful smile tugging at your lips.

He felt pleased with himself to make you feel that way and hoped he could continue doing so in the future. “No problem.”

Both of you dug into your noodles, slurped up the remaining broth once finished. You were glad that Jaehyun brought you for a casual lunch where you didn’t have to worry about manners and etiquettes as that sort of stuff did not go with ramen.

He later suggested a walk in the park in order to digest your full bellies. The weather was perfect, the sun blazing down onto your head and you were glad to have chosen a light-coloured outfit. Summer was nearing and soon enough, you were craving for a frozen dessert.

“Do you want something refreshing?” Jaehyun asked, almost like he read your thought.

“That sounds nice. Ice cream?” You pointed at the ice cream stall from afar.

He followed your finger and turned back to you, dimples reappearing. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Both your steps were synced, and he craved to hold your dangling hand. Craved to have his first ever physical touch with you. But he was worried if it was too soon and clenched his hands into fists to stop himself.

Approaching the stall, you read the long list of flavours, cheering internally when reading your favourites. “I’ll have a scoop of cherry and green tea each.”

Jaehyun turned to you with a look of mild surprise. “You like green tea?”

His face was unreadable so you couldn’t figure out whether he liked that or not. “Yeah, I love green tea. Why?”

He blinked before forming a blinding smile. “I love green tea too.”

After the ice cream date, Jaehyun drove you back home, parking his car in front of your house. He was surprised to see his parents’ vehicle in the driveway. “My parents are here.”

You nodded wordlessly. Your parents didn’t mention anything about a meet up between the two families. They only knew that you were going out with Jaehyun. “Let’s both go in.”

When you strolled into the living room with Jaehyun behind you, laughter was heard as the folks shared stories of you two.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

The eyes of a woman, who you assumed was Jaehyun’s mother, lightened up. “Oh Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She pulled you into a crushing hug, which you tried to reciprocate with your locked arms.

“Same here,” you chuckled breathlessly.

She pulled back and beamed at you, eager to spill the breaking news. “We finalized your engagement date.”

All the colour had drained from your face and you took a quick side glance at your parents. They knew that you weren’t going to be happy with the news and had hidden it from you. “When?” you asked.

You were somewhat glad that the woman in front of you didn’t notice your fallen face. “In two weeks. And after that happens, we’ll decide on the marriage date.”

This was happening way too fast for your liking. Even though it was just an engagement, why were they so eager for it to happen quickly? “Isn’t two weeks a little too early? We’re still trying to get to know each other,” you reasoned.

Your future mother-in-law’s excitement didn’t falter the slightest bit. “Nonsense. I’ve heard that this is your third time seeing each other. And I’m sure that if you keep meeting up, you’ll have a better idea of each other by the time of the engagement. Plus, the date falls on my birthday and it would mean the world if my gift happened to be my son’s and future daughter-in-law’s engagement.”

You understood her feelings, and she was right. Two weeks should give you a better idea of Jaehyun, give you time to grow your feelings for him if you could. And it was only an engagement. A marriage in two weeks would have been more devastating.

You stared long at your father, silently pleading for him to still remember the condition set. Sensing that he knew what your eyes were trying to convey, he simply gave you a curt nod. Meanwhile, Jaehyun met your mother’s hopeful gaze, who offered him a tight smile, wishing that everything would go well between him and her daughter. You noticed your mother’s eyes being trained behind you and turned to the man. He observed the worried expression plastered on your face, his heart breaking a little at the thought of you not being excited for the marriage like the way he was.

- ❀ -

“Y/N! Please be our angel and help us out,” Taeyong pleaded over the phone.

“Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I?”

A moment of silence before he replied, “Because of what I’m about to suggest to you?”

After the phone call ended, you lied down on your bed, not believing your fate. Though it wasn’t actually all fate. This was Taeyong partly trying to play cupid.

Both Taeyong and Irene had to go out of town for the entire weekend, including their parents. But children were not allowed at the event, and their babysitter also happened to fall ill, leaving them with no other backup than have you look after the three children. You had never taken care of three children at once and he knew you were going to need a helping hand. And that was when Taeyong suggested that you babysat the three with Jaehyun.

Your fingers hovered over the screen before pressing on Jaehyun’s number. You had met up with him the past week, for casual hangouts and meals. Yet nothing much had happened in terms of you growing feelings for the said man. The engagement was exactly a week away, and you accepted your fate of having to wear a silver ring as you failed to find a flaw in him.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun sounded quite surprised that you called him for the very first time when it had always been him initiating it.

“Haha yes, it’s me.” You really wanted to hit yourself for still sounding awkward with him. “I actually called to ask you... like are you busy this weekend? I mean including overnight.”

“No, I’m not busy. What is it?”

“Are you okay to babysit kids with me?”

“Kids? Well yes, but whose kids are you talking about?” Jaehyun was ecstatic to spend the weekend with you, even if it meant having to look after some children. He was good with children and hoped he could get closer to you through this.

“They’re Taeyong’s kids. Remember Taeyong the one you met at the movies? Him and his wife are going to be away for the weekend, and he asked me to babysit them with you because there’s three of them. It’s for two days and we’ll have to stay at their house overnight. Is that okay?”

I am more than okay with the plan! Jaehyun thought. But to not scare you, he pushed down the excitement bubbling in his chest and calmly answered, “Yeah that’s fine. No worries.”

- ❀ -

Before you could even ring the bell, the door opened, revealing an overly joyful Taeyong. He threw himself on you, hugging you tightly and you laughed at him. He did the same to Jaehyun, flustering him greatly. “Thank you so much for coming, Jaehyun. Come in and leave your bags over here.”

Putting down your duffel bag to the side, you found Irene sitting on the couch with Aera in her baby walker. The baby squealed upon seeing you, bouncing on her tiny knees. “Hi Jaehyun. Thank you so much for helping out. I’m Irene.”

Jaehyun smiled at her. “Nice to meet you, Irene. And it’s no problem at all.” Taeyong led Jaehyun to the kitchen to explain the procedures that you had already memorized from the numerous times you had visited them.

“You two are literally our lifesavers,” Irene said to you.

You laughed. “It’s nothing. I’m sure it’s going to be fun with the kids.” And not as awkward with Jaehyun around, you thought.

She shook her head. “We’re leaving you two with a challenge, and Chunghee is going to be a real troublemaker for that.”

After an hour later, Taeyong and Irene finally left after placing a ton of kisses all over their youngest daughter. Aera was the only one awake at that time while the other two slept. Once you locked the door, you turned around to find Jaehyun introducing himself to the little one.

“Hi Aera, my name is Jaehyun, but you can call me Jae uncle. Let’s be friends, hmm?” Aera bounced on her knees again, beaming at him and did her signature baby laugh.

The adorable interaction between Jaehyun and the baby girl made your heart melt.

Shortly before a loud wail was heard down the far end of the hall.

“Oh that sounds like Jinae. I’ll go get her,” you said. Jaehyun gave you a nod complemented with a smile. Aera let out a high-pitched shriek to grab the uncle’s attention again.

On your way to Jinae, Chunghee sprinted past you into the living room, his doe eyes searching for his parents and instead was met with an unknown man sitting beside his sister.

“You must be Chunghee, right?” The little boy nodded with confusion written on his face. “I’m Jaehyun. Jae uncle you can call me.”

“Where’s mama and papa?”

“They already left. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

Chunghee hummed and walked over to the uncle, sitting beside his sister. “Are you auntie’s boyfwiend?” he asked.

The curiosity had pink paint over Jaehyun’s cheeks. He didn’t know what to call the relationship to a four-year-old. “Not boyfriend exactly but we’re getting married.”

Chunghee blankly stared at Jaehyun. “Do you like each other?”

Jaehyun’s breathing halted for a second. “Um, yeah but not really. I mean- I like her, but I don’t know what she feels.”

You walked back in the room, noticing a calm Chunghee trying to process something into his small developing brain, while Jaehyun sat with a faint blush covering his cheeks. Jinae had stopped crying as soon as her little eyes landed on you and fell back to sleep in your arms. You gently laid Jinae down on the couch and recalled the first mission that your friends gave you.

Have Jinae and Chunghee eat fruits.

Jinae was sleeping soundlessly so that meant Chunghee was going to be the first one to eat them, and that was the real mission.

“I’ll cut up some snacks,” you said.

Jaehyun got up to his feet. “I’ll cut them. You can relax with them.” He knew what snacks you were referring to, sending you a comforting smile before dashing off to the kitchen.

“Auntie?” Chunghee called out.

“Hm?”

“Do you like uncle?”

Flustered, you asked, “Why are you asking me that?”

“Uncle like you. But he not boyfwiend. And you gonna marry him.”

What?

Jaehyun liked you?

“Jaehyun uncle told you this?”

He nodded.

Jaehyun likes you, you thought repeatedly in your head. 

But it didn’t mean anything when you didn’t feel the same way.

After a few minutes, the said man returned with a plate of fruit varieties chopped up into small pieces. “Okay Chunghee, eat up.” He placed the plate on the foam mat covering the floor, away from Aera in case her baby walker bulldozed over the snacks.

The little boy huffed and crossed his tiny arms. “No fruits!”

“It’s going to be difficult feeding him fruits. We’ll have to figure out a way to get him desperate to eat them,” you mentioned. You picked up this idea from a movie you watched a while back and the tactic worked on the child in the film.

Jaehyun nodded and in a gentle tone told Chunghee, “I’ll keep this out in case you change your mind and become hungry. Okay?”

“But you’re not going to get any other food until you eat these,” you added sternly, hoping the strictness in your voice would have Chunghee obey.

Chunghee’s scowl faltered, not believing your words. “You won’t do that,” he responded but there was a hint of shakiness in his words.

Jaehyun went with your flow. “We don’t want to but we’ll have to,” he ended the supposed scary words with a smile to not scare the little boy too much.

The rest of the day went on with Jinae getting along well with Jaehyun, Aera sleeping shortly, and Chunghee frowning. He was the only one remaining who hadn’t touched the fruits yet and you grew concerned. Dinnertime was fast approaching and if the boy didn’t get a proper meal, then he was going to throw a tantrum.

Jaehyun offered to cook for everyone and you were surprised that he took up the task solely. “Are you sure? I can help,” you offered.

He hesitated for a moment, thinking about something briefly before he raised his hand to cup your face delicately, smiling at you. “Don’t worry. I got this,” he breathed out quietly. He retracted his and made his way towards the kitchen. Little did both of you know the true effect that the small touch had on the other, both of your hearts beating erratically as Jaehyun hurriedly hid in the kitchen while you stood frozen in your spot.

Four bowls of food were set on the table. For you, Jaehyun, Jinae, and Aera (though baby safe).

“Woa!” Jinae exclaimed before digging into her food with her baby chopsticks. Jaehyun began feeding Aera spoonfuls in the form of an airplane swooshing in the air, making Aera squeal joyfully. You stifled back a laugh from how funny Jaehyun looked doing that.

Hearing a faint grumble beside you, you anxiously glanced at Chunghee. The plate consisting of his share of fruits was left abandoned in the living room. “Where’s my food?” he asked.

“You know the deal. First fruits, then food,” you answered.

Chunghee couldn’t believe his ears. His parents had always given up eventually, no matter how hard they tried to get him to eat the naturally sweet products. “I. Want. Food!” he screamed.

This caused Aera to start crying and Jinae to stop eating her food altogether. You gave Jinae a side hug, rubbing her arm and let out a deep sigh. “Chunghee, if you’re going to keep this up, go into the living room. Let your sisters eat. It’s not their fault that you don’t want to eat something that Jinae already had.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. “You’re so mean!” he yelled and ran into the said room.

Jaehyun wiped Aera’s tears away and picked her up to soothe her, calmly her down shortly. “We’ll have to think of something else,” he told you.

“I don’t understand why Chunghee has such a huge problem with fruits,” you spoke. “He became like this ever since Ten looked after him one time.”

Jaehyun took in what you said, his mind raking up on a solution. “I think I can figure this problem out. Can you feed Aera while I go see him?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Jaehyun found the little boy whimpering quietly as he hugged his legs to his chest. Chunghee’s sad eyes made Jaehyun feel a twinge in his heart. If there was something else behind it like a fear, he would have opted for a better solution.

Jaehyun sat down beside him. “I’m sorry,” he spoke tenderly.

The boy stayed put and sniffed, letting tears slide down his reddened cheeks. Jaehyun wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong, Chunghee? Why won’t you eat fruits?”

Chunghee was still upset with his auntie and uncle, and so he didn’t respond back.

“How can I help you if you don’t tell me? Did Ten uncle say something bad about it?”

Those words stirred something inside the boy and he let his guard down. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Bullseye. Jaehyun felt like he was close to solving the problem. “What did he say?”

Chunghee finally looked at the uncle with glistening eyes and answered, “Fruits will grow in my stomach.”

Fruits...

What?

Bewildered Jaehyun tried to compose himself before confirming. “So you won’t eat fruits because you’re scared that fruits will grow in your stomach?”

A nod.

Jaehyun faced away from the naïve boy and a smile threatened to spill onto his face. He was amused by the boy’s innocent fear, but at the same time he wanted to meet this Ten guy and smack him for installing the fear into the poor child. He turned serious again and softly said, “Chunghee, don’t worry because that’s not true. If it was, wouldn’t everyone be scared to eat it? Auntie and I wouldn’t have eaten it earlier if that was true. You saw us eat it, right?”

A glimmer of hope sparkled in his doe eyes. “It’s not?”

He smiled. “It’s not.”

“But seeds...”

“Yes, there are fruit seeds that you shouldn’t eat. But if you accidentally eat those, then they’ll come out of you when you go for a potty,” Jaehyun said, ruffling the boy’s hair. A smile finally emerged onto the little boy’s face and they laughed. “So are you going to trust us and your parents now to eat fruits?”

Chunghee hopped off the couch and grabbed the abandoned plate, at last popping a piece of chopped strawberry into his mouth. “I will.”

You were shocked to say the least for the boy to have finished up all the remaining fruits and had his meal with his siblings. You gave Jaehyun a questioning look, to which he smiled and mouthed ‘later.’

After a bit of playing around to digest the meal, you tucked Jinae and Chunghee in bed and walked back into the living room and found Jaehyun carrying Aera in the baby carrier, soothing her to sleep. Aera’s bed was separate from her older siblings as she needed more attention from adults. Thus, her bed was in the same room as Taeyong’s and Irene’s.

You thought back to your day spent with Jaehyun and the kids, amazed by how great Jaehyun was with small children. From looking after Aera to playing with Jinae to making Chunghee eat fruits. He really was going to be a great father one day. But was he going to be the father of your children?

Cute babies. Taeyong’s words echoed in your head.

With Jaehyun’s looks, there was no doubt about that. But did you really care about that? No. All babies were adorable no matter what. 

Uncle like you. Chunghee’s words rang in your head just then, and you didn’t realize you were staring at him until he stared back at you, shaking you out of your thoughts. Clearing your throat, you spoke up an issue. “So Taeyong and Irene only have one bed, same room as Aera’s so...” you trailed off, not sure how Jaehyun was going to take that in.

He nodded, not displaying any emotions. “I can sleep on the couch here. You can take the bed.”

Your eyes widened. “No! I didn’t mean- I mean... we should probably start becoming comfortable with each other, you know?”

His lips formed a small ‘oh.’ “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He didn’t want you to force yourself and feel uneasy.

This was your future husband for goodness sake. You had to become comfortable with him at one point in your life. “Yeah, I feel like I can trust you, especially since Aera will be in the same room too. Haha.” There you went sounding awkward again.

Jaehyun bit back a smile and nodded. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

In the bedroom, Jaehyun carefully laid sleeping Aera in her bed while you settled yourself on one side of the bed, facing away from Jaehyun’s side. You were glad that your friends selected a king-sized bed, giving you ample of space to maintain a comfortable distance from him. Jaehyun got under the shared blanket and before he switched off the nightlamp, he softly called for you. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

He silently drunk in the scene in his view. You next to him, a baby in her own bed, almost like a small family ready to doze off to dreamland. He wished this was what his future would look like, though only with you in it. “I really like you, Y/N,” he confessed and right away turned off the remaining light source, leaving your heart to hammer loudly in the dark.

- ❀ -

“Papa!” Chunghee ran into Taeyong’s open arms.

“My baby! Mwah,” Taeyong smooched the boy’s cheek with a wet kiss, making Chunghee shriek and run away.

Aera beamed in your arms upon seeing her mama’s face, making Irene take hold of the youngest and planted a haste kiss on her forehead.

Jinae waddled up to her papa, babbling for him to do the same with her as her super tiny arms rose up, asking to be picking up. Taeyong laughed and submitted, smooching a huge kiss onto her chubby cheek.

“How did it go? I hope the kids didn’t trouble you too much,” Irene said.

Jaehyun shook his head. “They didn’t trouble us. We managed to get Chunghee to eat fruits.”

Shock registered on Taeyong and Irene. “Did you just say Chunghee ate fruits?” Irene asked.

Chunghee beamed. “I did mama!”

Taeyong nodded his head slowly, letting the news settle in his brain. “Let me take you two out. As thanks for babysitting them and completing the mission.”

- ❀ -

Taeyong drove you and Jaehyun to his favourite coffee shop, the one you frequently visited with him that sold the most delectable pastries.

“I cannot believe I didn’t think about him having a fear, which makes sense because Ten also has a fear,” Taeyong said and took a bite of his strawberry Danish.

“Does Ten have the same fear?” Jaehyun asked.

You shook your head. “Nope. Apparently for Ten, it’s because fruits just look scary. I kind of find it funny that Ten thought of the whole seed thing and it grows in your stomach. It sounds so real and I’m sure a lot of people had that thought once in their life.”

Taeyong stopped chewing, a thought clicking to him. “You know Ten isn’t exactly wrong.”

Both you and Jaehyun stared at Taeyong, waiting for him to elaborate.

“How else do you make babies?”

“Lee Taeyong!” you yelled and slammed your hands on the table out of sheer embarrassment.

His laughter resonated in the café while Jaehyun’s cheeks burned red.

You grabbed Taeyong’s strawberry acai lemonade, taking huge sips of it as retribution. He whined and successfully retrieved it from you, shielding his body with it so that you wouldn’t steal it from him again.

You pouted. “Hey! I want some too!”

Taeyong took a quick glance at the silent one across from you, noting how Jaehyun’s eyes were masked with a hint of jealousy as he watched you be your playful self with your friend. Taeyong then met your eyes and nodded in Jaehyun’s direction. You frowned, not understanding what he was trying to hint at you. He casted his eyes on Jaehyun’s drink and later raised his own to take a sip. That was when it clicked you.

Your lips parted in surprise and turned to focus on the man across from you. His eyes were trained on swirling his drink with the straw. You cleared your throat, hoping you weren’t going to sound awkward. And of course, you failed. “Um, Jaehyun, can I um... try your drink?”

Jaehyun froze and lifted his gaze slowly. “Yeah of course,” he replied quietly and pushed his drink in your direction. You pressed your lips together on the straw, sipping the iced caramel macchiato. “Mmm,” you moaned. “This tastes better than Taeyong’s.”

“Hey! Don’t insult my drink!”

You laughed and stuck your tongue out at him while Jaehyun stared at you with a growing tender smile, super pleased that you liked his drink.

- ❀ -

[Two months later]

For the long weekend ahead of you, Taeyong and Irene planned a trip for you and Jaehyun to a rental vacation home. Now that you were engaged, Taeyong reasoned that a bachelor and bachelorette trip was a must. You were super grateful that your two friends also tagged along after dropping the kids off at Taeyong’s parents’ house.

It had been over a month ever since the engagement and even more hangouts, yet you still felt a little awkward with Jaehyun. After all, he was the man that you were eventually getting married to and you didn’t have any strong feelings of love for him.

Even if you did, you didn’t realize it.

Once arriving at the vacation home in the rental car, you were stunned by its exterior design. The neatly trimmed grass with small evergreen shrubs ran along the edges of the huge light up swimming pool, located off to the side from the entrance. The pool was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling rooms of the house, giving a few rooms a full view of the amenity. Even though you weren’t a fan of luxury, spending three days at that specific rental home sounded exciting.

The interior was just as jaw-dropping as the exterior and you spent the next few minutes walking around, familiarizing with the layout and where everything was located. Your friends and your fiancé were already sitting in the living room.

“This place is so cool!” you grinned.

“I’m glad you love it. Irene found this so it’s all thanks to her,” Taeyong said and pecked his wife on the cheek.

Irene squirmed. “Hey! Not in front of the kids!” she scolded her childlike husband.

You quirked an eyebrow up. “Excuse me? I am not a child.”

“You still are considered one until you’re married and have kids,” Taeyong stated.

You rolled your eyes at his words. He was right, and you felt like that with the way they treated you at times.

When the sun reached its peak midday, the four of you got into the vehicle and drove over to the closest supermarket with plans of stocking up on food and alcoholic drinks. You decided to split up into two groups, making Jaehyun hang around Taeyong while you walked with Irene.

Jaehyun pushed the cart into one of the aisles, containing a variety of pasta and sauces. “Can I make Italian for dinner tonight?” he asked.

Taeyong nodded. “Of course. Do you like Mexican? I can make that tomorrow.” Jaehyun nodded, giving him a weak smile. Taeyong noticed it and asked, “Is something wrong? It’s okay if you don’t like Mexican.”

Jaehyun stopped pushing the cart. “No, it’s not that. I...”

Taeyong waited patiently.

Jaehyun pressed his lips together before continuing. “I’ll tell you later.”

Meanwhile, you and Irene dumped whatever caught your sight into the cart.

“Y/N? Can I ask you something seriously?”

You let out a hum as a yes.

“How do you really feel about Jaehyun?”

You suddenly forgot how to read the labels on the shelves. Facing her, all that came out of your mouth was a ‘huh?’

Irene slowly repeated yourself, as if you had a hard time comprehending her words. “How do you feel with the engagement ring on your hand that Jaehyun put on? I’ve been seriously observing you the past months. Your actions, your words. Never do you talk about Jaehyun and you still act like you’re new with him.”

You blankly stared at the sparkling diamond ring resting on your third finger. Irene was right. You never talked about him, not giving him much of an interest. It was as if you had gotten used to having around him for the sake of your future being tied with his. “I don’t really know, Irene. I mean I do at times feel like I have a small crush on him. He is a good guy, but I don’t... I don’t know. Even though he already confessed to me that he likes me. Plus, he’s really calm...”

Irene was silent for a moment. “He is. But do you ever notice the way he’s like around you?”

You blinked confusedly. “What?”

“He’s always looking at you. I mean not in a creepy way. But he’s always smiling around you. Taeyong tells me how you don’t notice the little things with him and it sounds like Jaehyun gets jealous? Everyone has their own way of expressing themselves, expressing their love for their significant other. Jaehyun might not be obvious like Taeyong, but that doesn’t mean his love for you isn’t there.”

- ❀ -

Arriving back with the trunk full of groceries, it was finally time for Taeyong to have fun. Once all the groceries were put away in the kitchen, Taeyong sprinted out the glass doors, screaming high-pitched, and jumped into the swimming pool.

You laughed. “He really jumped in fully clothed.”

Irene sighed, walking over to him. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m a mother of four kids.” When Taeyong’s head popped up, she bent down close to the edge. “You should have at least changed into your swimming clothes,” she scolded.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he caught Irene off guard by pulling her into the water. She yelped, losing balance due to his strength, and felt the cold water hit her skin. “Taeyong! Are you crazy?” she yelled.

He laughed, pulling her into his arms. “I’m crazy for you, baby,” and smooched a wet kiss on her cheek.

You and Jaehyun ended up watching their adorable interaction from the sidelines of the pool and just then, Irene’s words voiced in your head.

Jaehyun might not be obvious like Taeyong, but that doesn’t mean his love for you isn’t there.

“Jaehyun?”

He turned to you. “Yes?”

“Do you know how to swim?”

He nodded. “Yeah I do.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m sorry.”

“For wha-”

You pushed him into the pool with all your strength, clutching your stomach as you laughed hard after he resurfaced. He gave you an amused smile with his hands on his hips. He loved that you were happily laughing at him, loved seeing you finally become playful with him.

“You know Y/N, it’s not fair that you’re the only one outside the pool,” Jaehyun teased you.

You agreed and backed up a few steps before running and jumping into the water. When your head resurfaced, you began splashing water on Jaehyun, to which he let out a hearty laugh and copied your actions.

Taeyong and Irene looked between you two in shock and then at each other. The husband took this opportunity to plant another huge fat kiss on his wife’s cheek, making her yelp again.

When the sky turned a shade darker and the hot humid air shifted slightly chillier, the four of you headed back inside to dry up. Of course, you were bound to share the bedroom with your fiancé, thankful of having previous experience with that. Jaehyun kindly let you use the room first, giving you privacy while he lazed on the outdoor chair, letting the sunset dry him up as much as it could before taking the matter in his own hands.

You stepped out of the ensuite bathroom, the covers of the floor-to-ceiling windows completely raised up and you spotted Jaehyun immediately. Knocking on the window, you got his attention right away and cued him that it was his turn.

Just like Jaehyun gave you privacy, you did the same for him.

You settled for the living room, the biggest area in the house. Taeyong and Irene were nowhere in sight, leaving you to entertain yourself. When you dug your hands into your pockets, you realized that your phone was forgotten in the bedroom.

If it was Irene or Taeyong in the room, you would have walked right in. But you stood outside the closed door, shifting on your feet and debating heavily as to what your next action should be. Knocking would be appropriate but this was your fiancé for heaven’s sake. You shouldn’t be knocking on the door for permission when this sort of thing was going to become a regular thing in the future.

You grabbed the doorknob, turning it clockwise and pushed it opened slightly. Your head peeked in, searching for him. When you couldn’t, thinking that he was already in the bathroom, you walked in cautiously. Right before you passed the bathroom, the door opened and out walked Jaehyun. His jeans and hair were still damp from the event earlier.

But what had you two react the way you did after was for the fact that he held his damp shirt in his hand, leaving his abs on fully display.

The speed at which both his and your eyes enlarged and twirled away from one another would make anyone think that both of you were not in a relationship. Let along engaged.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here,” he said and quickly put on his shirt. “I put my shirt on. You can turn around now.”

You let out an inaudible breath and turned, slightly disappointed to not see his abs anymore. “I’m sorry. I should have knocked but I thought... um...” You lost your words when a smile tugged at the ends of his lips.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were comfortable enough to do that.”

You weren’t aware that your fiancé was in charge of dinner that night and was surprised to learn how much of a great chef Jaehyun was, even better than Taeyong as shocking as it sounded. Yes, he did cook before when babysitting but that was children-friendly, unlike the elegant cuisine of your favourite Italian dish that you had eaten in your first ever date with him.

- ❀ -

The next morning, you woke up feeling the bed occupied behind you. You stretched your limbs and turned around, suddenly forgetting how to breath when your eyes landed on Jaehyun’s sleeping face, facing in your direction. You wanted to touch his milky face, confirm whether it really was as soft as it seemed. His bare lips slightly parted and you wished to feel them on you.

Jaehyun felt a gaze on him and slowly fluttered his eyelids up. The eye contact had you jolt up from surprise while he stayed rooted in his lying position.

“I- I’m gonna go get ready,” you stuttered and bolted for the bathroom, locking the door behind you, and placed a hand over your racing heart.

Jaehyun sat up on the bed and smiled over how adorable you were. “Cute,” he whispered.

After breakfast, Taeyong and Jaehyun decided to go hiking nearby while you and Irene laid down on the outdoor lounge chairs, sprawling under the morning light.

The hiking trail was not too long and both men had reached the top in no time. Emerging from the trees, they were blessed by the breathtaking view of the mountains with a river that separated the mountains from where they stood. The morning birds chirped nearby, and the light breeze carried the echoes to their ears.

“Wow,” Jaehyun whispered. He felt as if a blanket was draped over him. A beautiful blanket consisting of your warmth.

“Beautiful, right?”

He nodded. “I wish Y/N and Irene came with us.”

“Same. I try to get Irene to come with me whenever I’d go hiking. But she would rather rest at home. I don’t blame her. Taking care of three small children is a lot.” Taeyong looked at the Jaehyun. “I don’t know how I survived all the times I had to do it by myself and Y/N always cracks jokes about me suffering.”

Jaehyun glanced at him with a small smile before turning back to the view.

Though Taeyong’s gaze was still locked on him. “Jaehyun?”

He took a deep breath, willing himself to take the time and ask your friend something that had been on his mind since the beginning. “How is Y/N so comfortable with you? I wish she could be like that with me.” Jaehyun was glad that he was starting to see you become comfortable with him during the trip. Even though it made his heart super happy, he craved for more from you.

Taeyong’s eyebrows raised up when finally learning the issue. “Well, that’s something that will depend on time. And the person too. When she first met me, I was a hot chubby mess, always clumsy and super clingy to my friends. I was naughty too, playful and pulling pranks. That’s how Y/N’s always seen me as since elementary school.”

The speed at which Jaehyun whipped his head to the man beside him had Taeyong chuckling. “Elementary... that long?” That all made sense to him. Being friends with Taeyong that long would only make you feel so at ease around him. And with that fact, another wave of jealousy hit him. How could Jaehyun beat that time before the marriage? Jaehyun was nowhere near Taeyong’s personality and he envied that to a great extent. On top of that, he didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him when you weren’t sure about it yourself.

A hand patted lightly on Jaehyun’s head. “Aigoo, is Jaehyunie jealous?” Taeyong teased.

Heat rose up to his cheeks, bluntly denying him, resulting in a roar of laughter from the married one.

“Don’t worry, Jaehyun. You’re a really good guy and I really think Y/N will like you back one day.” Sure, Taeyong was your best friend, but even he couldn’t figure out where a girl’s heart truly lied unless he had a chat with you. Regardless though, he would try to push you closer to Jaehyun, hoping that you’d break your assumed thoughts and give your fiancé a chance. A strong intuitive feeling of his told him that you and Jaehyun were destined to be together.

- ❀ -

Never Have I Ever.

That was a game that Taeyong had prepared for this trip. He had searched up a bunch of questions and written them down on a list of paper in case someone had a hard time to come up with a statement. The original game that he had planned included alcoholic drinks, but Irene had changed it to holding a hand up.

“Why? I wanted to drink!” Taeyong whined while wiggling in his seat.

Irene tsked. “Not right now. We’ll drink after dinner.”

He pouted, eventually agreeing with her words. Even though he was in charge of dinner that night, he couldn’t stop the desperate feeling of having one drink beforehand. “Okay, let’s start.” Taeyong spun an empty water bottle on the dining table and the opening pointed at Irene.

“Wow.” She picked up the list and scanned through the questions, immediately catching sight of one. “Never have I ever thrown a drink at someone,” she said and gave her husband an unamused look.

Only Taeyong raised his arm, knowing exactly what she was thinking about. And to his defense, he responded, “Come on, baby. You saw that guy! He was being rude to his mother. How could I not do anything?”

“But you could have talked it out. You didn’t have to throw your drink at him. We nearly got kicked out of the restaurant before we could even get our meal.”

“I would have made dinner for us then!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Okay guys, don’t fight,” you talked over them and grabbed the list from Irene, rolling your eyes at one of the questions. “Never have I ever fought in public.” You knew right away who were going to put up their hands.

Taeyong and Irene.

Irene crossed her arms. “Taeyong can get so childish when it comes to stuffed animals and chocolates that I have to nag him.”

Taeyong pouted. “Hey! At least I’m setting a good role model that adults should be child at heart, baby.”

But what you didn’t expect was that Jaehyun raised his hand up as well. “Well I wouldn’t say public like that, but I would hold onto my stand at work, which would raise some disputes. I know when to give up, but I can’t let a project go down the wrong path for the sake of maintaining peace in the company.”

You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with that, and you liked that thing about Jaehyun.

Taeyong grabbed the list from you, going next. “Never have I ever went on a solo vacation.” Taeyong never went on one, and wished he never did. Where was the fun when you weren’t on an adventure with someone?

Jaehyun was the sole person to raise his arm and you were aware of what he was implying to. He had informed you that he would be gone for some business in Paris a few weeks back and asked if you wanted to join him. Jaehyun felt bad for leaving you, but you spending a whole week in Paris with only him made your stomach lurch. Whether in a good way or bad, you didn’t know, thus rejecting his offer. You weren’t ready for such a stage in the relationship despite being newly engaged back then.

Pushing his broken heart aside, he explored the city in his free time. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you throughout the whole trip, even during the conferences that he was there for. Trips were something he used to enjoy solely. But after meeting you, he would have liked them better if he was with you.

He pushed the feeling aside and merely answered, “I went to Paris, mainly for business though.” He then asked something interesting that caught his attention on Taeyong’s list. “Never have I ever broken someone’s bone.”

You turned to Taeyong, shooting him a ‘what the hell’ look. “What kind of question is that?” Breaking your own bone was understandable. But why on earth would someone break someone else’s bone?

As expected, no one else except for the man himself raised his arm and chuckled. “I tweaked the question up because I technically did.”

Irene sighed. “It wasn’t you. It was on accident and it wasn’t Chunghee’s fault either.”

He sighed feeling a bit dejected. “I know but I feel responsible for what happened to Ten. Like I should have taught Chunghee better. Anyway, let’s move on.”

It was Irene’s turn again, and this time she yelped at reading one of the questions near the bottom of the page. “Never have I ever went skinny-dipping. What the hell, Taeyong?”

No one had raised their hand, and you were thankful for it because you wouldn’t know what to do with that information if either your married friends or your fiancé had done it before.

Taeyong wiggled his eyebrows at his wife suggestively, making her smack him hard in the chest and causing a windshield wiping laughter from him. “I really think it should be on our bucket list, babe,” he said.

“TAEYONG!” she screamed.

He laughed at her while you retrieved the list. “Never have I ever lived alone.” You had always either lived with your parents or had roommates when away from home. Taeyong and Irene were high school sweethearts, and so their only home away from their parents were with each other.

Jaehyun raised his arm solely once again. “I actually live on my own right now. I have my own place,” he answered. He never suggested to bring you over to his place, assuming that you were still awkward with him. Therefore, he only ever took you to public places to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.

A phone rang, making Irene pick up her phone. “Hey Yeri.” Yeri was a mutual friend of yours and Irene’s and based on the muffled sounds from the other end of the line, you assumed that she was crying. “Oh no, just hold on for a second.” Turning to you guys, she said, “I’ll go talk to her outside.”

“I’ll come,” you added. You didn’t know what the issue was, but two heads were better than one.  

“Alright. And Taeyong, do not drink out of my sight. You hear me?” Irene pointed her index finger at him as she reprimanded him.

Taeyong sulked like a sad puppy upon hearing his wife’s words. Once the two of you were out of sight, a smirk formed on his face and he turned to Jaehyun, wiggling his eyebrows alluringly.

Jaehyun acted dumb, not wanting to get in trouble for encouraging Taeyong and avoided his eyes.

Taeyong nudged Jaehyun in the elbow, making the latter sigh in defeat. “This is about drinking, isn’t it?”

He nodded eagerly.

But Jaehyun shook his head. “No.”

Taeyong deflated. “Why?” he wailed.

“You’re going to get in trouble. Didn’t Irene just warn you?”

“I always get in trouble by her. It’s nothing new. I really wanna drink.”

Jaehyun was in a huge debate. Should he let Taeyong drink? Would you get mad at him for letting your friend drink?

“Come on, man. Please?” The puppy look was too irresistible for Jaehyun to stop him. One drink wouldn’t hurt Taeyong, would it?

“Okay, I guess a little won’t hurt you.”

Taeyong’s eyebrows raised in amusement. “You mean us. We’re both drinking.”

-

After comforting Yeri with her boyfriend issue, Irene decided to call her in-laws and check up on the kids while you headed back to search for the boys and see what they were up to.

Only to witness the scene in front of you absolutely shocking.

Both Taeyong and Jaehyun unquestionably wasted.

Numerous bottles were littered everywhere on the dining table where the four of you previously played a game. Knowing that Taeyong was a lightweight, the majority of the bottles had to belong to Jaehyun. Like a koala bear to a tree, Taeyong clung onto Jaehyun from behind, splattering kisses on your fiancé’s cheeks and nuzzling his nose into Jaehyun’s skin. From the looks of it, Jaehyun didn’t seem bothered at all by your friend with the dimples on his flushed cheeks.

But you were.

“Taeyong! Let him go! That’s my fiancé you’re kissing!” you yelled and strolled over to them. Trying to split up your drunk friend from your future husband was close to impossible. When Taeyong was drunk, his strength nearly doubled. The only other approach to get Taeyong off Jaehyun was for you to take a deep breath and release a bloodcurdling scream.

Startled, Taeyong let go of Jaehyun and stumbled over his steps, landing flat on his butt. The loss of human physical contact had Taeyong become a crying mess, but you didn’t pay any attention to his melodramatic tears. Because right after that moment, Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. He took a deep breath of your scent and sighed in content. “Mmm, you smell nice Y/N.”

Your heart thrashed in your chest and all you could hear was your blood pumping loudly in your ears. All you could feel was the warmth of his arms around you with the tip of his soft nose pressed into your cheek.

When Irene reappeared and quickly sunk in the scene, she ran up to her husband. “Taeyong! Did I not warn you earlier?” she shouted. Taeyong was going to have a tough time from Irene when he sobered up.

Once Irene dragged her wasted husband to their bedroom, you were clueless of what to do with clingy Jaehyun and later chose to follow your friend’s idea. After much difficulty of attempting to pull him inside the bedroom, you dropped him on the bed.

Right before you left his side, you heard him faintly mumble the words, “I love you, Y/N,” before dozing off.

- ❀ -

“Y/N, Jaehyun, can you two go to the market and grab some food for the long drive home?” Taeyong asked.

The last morning of your time at the rental vacation home had arrived. Thanks to the drunken men from the day before, food stock had been used up considerably quick to battle their hangovers.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready,” Jaehyun said to you.

You pursed your lips and nodded. Frankly speaking, you were beginning to feel uncomfortable with Jaehyun ever since you heard his confession. Even though it wasn’t the first time to hear him confess to you, ‘I love you’ was a lot more deeper than ‘I like you’ and you were more than glad that he had said it while he was drunk. If he was sober, you would have had no idea on how to respond back. It wasn’t necessarily his feelings that you were bothered by, but your own. You didn’t know where your heart was for him and that was what made you uncomfortable.

Taeyong tossed the car keys to Jaehyun while discreetly sending a wink in your direction. You rolled your eyes, aware that your friend was only trying to get you closer to Jaehyun.

The drive to the market was tortuously silent as you focused your gaze on the faraway mountains and grass fields.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Jaehyun began. “I didn’t know Taeyong’s light and when he’s drunk, it’s hard to refuse him.” Taeyong had forced bottle after bottle on the poor man, not stopping until Jaehyun was drunk like him.

You stifled back a small laugh. “It’s okay. I’ve seen it before. But do you remember what happened?”

He frowned and shook his head. “Did something embarrassing happen?”

“Well, I would say something entertaining happened. You and Taeyong were quite something.”

He paled, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “What did we do?”

You laughed. “I wished I recorded you two, but I guess I’ll forever cherish it in my memories.”

At the market, Jaehyun pushed the cart and your hand rested on the side of it. Halfway through, Jaehyun felt his phone vibrate. Seeing the caller’s name displayed, he sighed, slightly annoyed at the phone. “Sorry Y/N, I need to take this call.”

You were surprised that he was telling you, yet hummed in response.

He thanked you and answered the call, keeping his volume low. “Hello? Didn’t I tell you not to call me?” You weren’t trying to mind his conversation but sort of ended up eavesdropping. “Just talk to Jade for me, will you? Thanks.” He hung up the call, taking a deep breath before smiling at you and resumed the grocery shopping.

What was that about, you thought.

- ❀ -

“Oh my love! I’m so excited to finalize your marriage date,” your mother gushed. “The time has finally come!”

You stayed mute, letting your mother begin daydreaming of all the things that would happen at your wedding.  Recalling the condition set in the beginning, your father asked if there was a valid reason to break it off. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to come up with a single reason for why you shouldn’t marry Jaehyun.

Why did he have to be so flawless, you thought.

When the doorbell rang, your mother gave you a gentle push, cuing you to open the door. With a huge deep breath in and out, you attempted to put on your best polite smile and swung the door open. “Good afternoon, please come in,” your tone laced with such fake enthusiasm that you had never displayed to your future in-laws.

Mrs. Jung walked in and pulled you into, once again, a crushing hug. “Oh it really is a good afternoon, Y/N. Let’s get your wedding talk going!” Once Jaehyun’s parents strolled to the direction of the living room, you shifted your gaze to the man himself, standing still on the porch.

“Um, you can come in too. Haha.” You weren’t ever going to stop feeling awkward with him, were you?

Though Jaehyun only held a neutral expression. No smile or sparkle in his eyes. And it made you worry if he was okay.

“Jaehyun?”

“Y/N?” he called softly.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He sucked in a breath and asked, “Can I hug you?”

You blinked again. Physical touches were going to be basic intimacy after marriage so he shouldn’t have to ask you for one. But then, nothing much had happened between you two in terms of it except for a few, and you thought he was only being a gentleman. He had only hugged you once and that was when he was drunk. “Yes, of course.”

He closed the distance between you two and wrapped his arms around your waist, flushing his warmth against yours. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he placed his chin on your shoulder, staying like that for what felt like a minute, just basking in your warmth before he pulled away. The slight smile he sent your way, not quite reaching his eyes, made your heart drop.

“Let’s go in,” he muttered and held your hand in his gently.

Your heart would have fluttered at the contact, but you didn’t like the feeling that began to settle in your stomach.

After you two walked in, Mrs. Jung began. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s think of-”

“Mom,” Jaehyun cut his mother off quietly but firmly enough to be heard, making her blink at him in surprise.

“What is it, son?” his father asked. Jaehyun was never the type to interrupt elders. But at that moment, he couldn’t let them begin planning, getting their hopes up when it wasn’t going to happen.

He let go of your hand and glanced at your mother. “I can’t do this.”

You were beyond confused with him. “Do what?”

He turned to you, his eyes holding sorrow. “This marriage.”

The eerie silence that followed was broken by your mother. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Y/N wanting to break it off, does it?”

You gaped at her. “This is my first time hearing about this. I didn’t know either.”

“There’s literally no reason why he would be calling it off,” she countered.

“Mrs. L/N, this doesn’t have anything to do with Y/N. It’s my decision. I’m just not ready. I’m sorry.” Jaehyun lowered his gaze to the floor while you incredulously looked at him.

Not ready? My foot! There was no way he wasn’t ready for this marriage. After the confessions, after all his smiles. He wouldn’t have continued taking interest in you if he was going to break it off.

“Jaehyun, this is unacceptable. You should have told us beforehand,” his mother scolded.

“And I’m sorry for that. I didn’t want anyone to know so that everyone knows this is my decision. I’m not being influenced by anyone for this.” He raised his eyes to meet your parents. “I apologize, once again, Mr. and Mrs. L/N.” Without giving you a glance, he turned on his heels and strode towards the entrance.

Your head was spinning, your heart aching for an unexplainable reason as you watched the man disappear out the front door. It happened. It finally happened. After all this time of you wanting the marriage to be called off.

But why weren’t you happy?

Jaehyun stepped out of your house, feeling slightly less suffocated and released the held back tears. He pulled out his phone, dialing a number and pressed it against his ear.

After the second ring, the call was answered. “Hey Jaehyun! What’s up?” Taeyong’s cheery greeting almost broke Jaehyun yet he willed himself to stay strong.  

“Taeyong, can we meet tonight?”

- ❀ -

Jaehyun asked for Taeyong to pick him up. With the plan he had for that night, he wasn’t going to be in the right condition to drive. Taeyong had gotten the news from you prior to the meet that Jaehyun had called off the wedding. While Taeyong was childish at times, he knew when to act responsibly and had opted for cola when Jaehyun ordered spirits.

You didn’t take the news well either and Taeyong could tell instantly by your voice. He was going to talk to you later in person when Jaehyun had reached out to him first.

First come, first served.

Taeyong pressed his back to his chair and watched the man across down his shots. The food had been left abandoned as alcohol became a source of comfort for the broken hearted.

“I- I couldn’t do it to Y/N,” Jaehyun choked out. “I can’t let her marry me when she doesn’t love me. I can’t let her feel that she’s being forced to marry me when she doesn’t want to. Not once has she ever admitted her feelings to me. It’s like she’s only doing this for her parents.”

Taeyong sighed. “Jaehyun, I think you shou-” He bit back his words upon hearing a sob. The sobs had progressively increased, and tears flooded down Jaehyun’s reddened cheeks. Taeyong rushed to his side and guided Jaehyun’s head to his chest, hugging him as he soothingly patted his head.

The sobs had only lessened when Jaehyun choked out, “I love her too much, Taeyong. I just want her to be happy.”

- ❀ -

Your eyes fluttered open, the light breeze gently swaying the sheer white curtains that hung off the rods of your canopy bed. A soft breath left your parted lips and the aching hole in your heart continued to consume you. Your hand laid beside your head, the sparkling diamond ring still resting on your finger. While you didn’t know if your fiancé, ex fiancé, had taken the ring off, you didn’t have the courage to take off yours.

Irene answered the door and was astonished by your surprise visit. “Y/N, what a surprise. And you don’t look good...” she trailed off.

And you weren’t expecting otherwise when you felt like shit.

She ushered you in, and your eyes skimmed throughout the home, getting flashbacks to the times spent babysitting with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun.

You sniffed and tried to push your incoming tears back. “Is Tae...”

She shook her head. “He got an urgent call from work so he’s going to be there till late night. I heard about Jaehyun.”

You merely nodded, not sure what to say.

Irene placed a hand on your shoulder. “Do you want to talk?”

You chewed on your lips and shook your head. You had no idea what to say when you were confused by your feelings. At times like that, you’d go to Taeyong. He knew you more than your parents, more than anyone in the world, and would have a better idea of what you were feeling before you could realize it yourself. Until Taeyong arrived, you were going to quietly seek comfort from your friend and the little angels.

Chunghee came into sight and his eyes landed on you, running to you. Your typical reflex would have been a cheerful smile and have your arms open for him to run into. But you didn’t do that. The little boy’s steps slowed upon approaching you, noticing something was off when not met with the usual response. “What’s wong, auntie?”

A cry that you recognized belonging to Aera pierced through the rooms, making Irene leave the two of you alone.

Jinae had waddled into the living room, her eyes forming crescent moons, delighted to see you. She wobbled up to your legs and held onto your leg for support. You sat down on the floor and pulled her into your lap. You forced a smile at Chunghee. “Nothing. Auntie’s okay.”

Chunghee sat down beside you, looking around the room. “Where’s Jae uncle?”

Your heart stopped at the mention of his Jaehyun uncle. You were flattered that he liked him enough to ask about his whereabouts. “He... Jae uncle isn’t with me anymore.”

He stared at you. “Not together?” You shook your head. “Why?” he whined.

“What do you mean why?”

He pouted, and if it weren’t for the gaping hole in your heart, you would have laughed at how much he resembled Taeyong. “I like you and uncle together.”

“I guess we’re not meant to be together.”

With a scowl on his face, he yelled, “No! You two are!”

Jinae kept her tiny gaze on you and released a ‘humph,’ agreeing with her brother’s words.

- ❀ -

Taeyong had received a warning from Irene to not make noise when entering home at night. His gaze fell onto the figure sprawled on the couch, facing the backrest. On his tip toes, he quietly moved towards it and peeked over to see your face. You were fast asleep with signs of puffy eyes, hinting that you were crying recently.

“You’re such a fool,” he whispered and kissed your head.

The next morning, you woke up, being greeted with a cheery Taeyong who dragged you to the dining table for breakfast. Even though you weren’t in the mood to, he nagged you into going out for a walk with him so that you could digest your meal. It made you think back to Jaehyun when he suggested the same thing on your second official date. You were secretly thankful that Taeyong dragged you out the door as your limbs were aching for some movement after being cooped up indoors due to your gloomy mood.

Spotting an unoccupied bench, the two of you sat down for a short break. “The weather is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, staring up at the fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky.

You puffed out as your gaze was fixed on the pebbles along the path. “I don’t know what to do. Why am I feeling like this?”

He snickered. “If I was in Jaehyun’s spot, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if I loved you.”

“Hey! Is that an insult?”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Seriously, only Jaehyun is supposed to be hurting right now. Why are you getting affected? Wasn’t this what you wanted all this time?”

It was.

But...

“Yeah... but I don’t know. I’m so confused. Jaehyun really is a good guy. But I- I don’t know.”

Taeyong watched you softly. “You know what the problem is?”

You scowled. “If I knew the problem, I wouldn’t be here with you and stressed out.”

He smiled warmly. “Your problem is that you’re holding onto your biased thoughts. The type of guys your parents had set you up with previously have been ones you didn’t like. So now that there’s a guy who is perfect for you, you can’t see that. Plus, all your life you wanted a love marriage. The second your parents interfered and tried to set you up for an arranged one, you thought love would never happen.”

You let his words sink in and felt a piercing stab in your heart after hearing his words. You wanted to fall in love the way you thought you would back when you were a teenage girl. You wanted to fall in love with the one you were destined to be with like the way it would occur in movies. Not through having blind dates with prospective partners.

“Y/N, let me ask you something and I want you to forget that you had ever met Jaehyun the way you did.”

That felt like another stab in your heart, even if hypothetical.

“If you never met Jaehyun through a blind date, but instead met him in another way, would your feelings change for him?”

If you met Jaehyun as a classmate, or as a mutual friend, or colleague, or even as someone you bumped into randomly on the streets, would your feelings change? “My head hurts,” you complained and slouched against the bench.

He tutted. “This isn’t something to use your brain for. What do you feel in your heart, Y/N? Would your feelings change? Would you then accept your love for Jaehyun?”

Love...

For Jaehyun.

You stood up from the bench, suddenly feeling a rush of emotions surging inside you. You began trembling, becoming hyper aware of what you had been doing all this time. You had been pushing away your feelings for him. Unknowingly had been denying your love for him. “Oh my God...” you breathed out. “Why am I so dumb?”

If you had met Jaehyun in any other way, then you would have realized your feelings way earlier.

Taeyong placed his hands on your shoulder, gently turning you around to face him. “You realize it now,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t see his face as your sight became blurry from the tears welled up in your eyes. “Why am I so stupid?” you cried, and Taeyong pulled you into his embrace, stroking your hair. Wet patches formed on his shirt as you sobbed in his chest.

Your friend kissed the top of your head. “After all this time of you wanting a love marriage, you didn’t even realize that the love of your life had been in front of you all along.”

“He’s never gonna forgive me,” you choked out.

Pulling away from you, he wiped your fresh tears off with his fingers. “He will. He loves you too much to hate you. Also,” he grabbed his phone from his pocket and did some tapping. Your phone chimed, displaying an address under your unread message. “That’s his address, the one where he lives on his own. Go to him, Y/N. Tell him your true feelings.”

- ❀ -

Jaehyun doesn’t hate you. He loves you.

With that thought, you quit being hesitant and rang the doorbell. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for a short time. When the door opened, you were met with a shocked Jaehyun. “Y/N?” Your name fell from his lips in disbelief, as if to see you again, let alone at his place, would be a dream.

A nod. “Yup. It’s me. Haha,” you chuckled nervously. “Taeyong gave me your address.”

He hit himself mentally for keeping you standing. “Come in.”

You walked in and weren’t surprised for the vibe his place radiated. After all the money spent on your dates, and being your parents’ selection, you expected he’d own a deluxe home, his being a modern bachelor pad. You couldn’t help but think back to a particular set of words when you second met him at the theater.

“Would you like anything? Coffee or tea?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No. I’m fine. Well... actually water.”

He nodded. “Of course. Please sit.” He shuffled his way to where you assumed was the kitchen. Out of sight, you cautiously sat down on the couch, scanning your eyes around.

Jaehyun came back with a tall glass of water, handing it to you. You thanked him and took a few sips before resting it on the coffee table. Your eyes landed on his ring finger, stunned to see the engagement ring still there. “You’re still wearing it,” you muttered.

He followed your line of sight and caught on to what you were referring to. Quickly, he placed his other hand on top to hide the ring from your sight. “Oh, um...” He glanced at your own hand and noticed it there as well. “Oh, you too?”

Nodding, you said, “Yeah, I...”

He kept his eyes trained on you, waiting for you to continue and explain for the sudden visit.

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered under your breath.

He raised his eyebrows, hearing you clearly. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t realize that I loved you all this time.”

He froze upon hearing your confession for the first time, and his heart began beating faster. “You love me?” he asked, needing to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

You nodded and laughed quietly. “If it weren’t for Taeyong to make me realize it, then I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. And I’m sorry that I’m late. I’ve been blind all this time because we were arranged, you know? I thought love wasn’t going to happen. But I’m so dumb to not realize it despite all the times you’ve made my heart flutter.”

A blinding smile took over his face and you were relieved to see it again. “I made your heart flutter?” Jaehyun’s heart was far from okay with your confession. There were rare times where he could figure out if he moved your heart, but you masked your emotions most of the time.

“You sure did. I’m seriously such a fool to not have- argh!” you groaned, frustrated with yourself.

He laughed happily, pleased with the effect he had on you. “Better now than never. So you love me? Like you don’t have any problem with me?”

Which reminded you... “Well, there is one thing.”

His smile faltered, anxious for what you had to state. “Yeah?”

You pressed your lips together. “What was your friend’s name? Johnny was it? At the movies. he mentioned something that you were devoted to your work, and I can tell you’re someone of higher position. Will that mean I might not be able to see you at times because you’ll be busy?”

His lips formed an ‘oh’ and his smile returned. “You’re right. I do work at a managerial position, so it is possible for me to be away. But did you ever feel that whenever I was with you? That I chose work over you?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Huh?”

He grinned. “Remember our trip at that supermarket and I got a call? It was from work. Actually, that weekend our team had an urgent project to work on, but I was able to get someone reliable to cover for me so that I could spend time with you.”

Oh my God...

“Work is inevitable and rare cases I’ll have to be away from you. But I will do anything and everything I can to put you first.” His smile dropped quickly when noticing your tears. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

You sniffed back the wave about to hit you. “You’re too perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

The dimples that you loved so much reappeared, and he wiped your tears away. “Nonsense. More like I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” you pouted, frowning.

He laughed and patted your head. “You’re so cute.”

Your cheeks burned with adoration for him, and you caught him off guard when you hastily leaned forward and pecked him on his lips. You pulled back and found him blushing.

Out of embarrassment, you diverted your gaze, looking at anything but his eyes. Jaehyun gently held your face in his hands and turned you to meet his twinkling eyes. “I love it when you surprise me, Y/N.”

You grinned and pecked his lips for the second time, wanting to feel his soft velvety lips again.

Surprised, he let out a hearty laugh. “Someone’s desperate for my lips.”

“After all this time, I can’t believe I didn’t kiss you once. Maybe that would have changed my mind and accepted you faster,” you joked.

He shook his head, smiling in amusement, and was startled when you threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Jaehyun responded back, pulling you into his tight embrace and kissed back in a feverish manner. You moaned and combed your hand through his hair, earning a deep growl from him. You pulled back after what felt like a minute, both of you panting heavily. He stared into your eyes, and as a confirmation whispered, “You’ll be my wife.”

­You chuckled breathlessly. “I’ll be your Mrs. Jung.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, moving more roughly. He left your lips and trailed down below your jawline, leaving a wet trail on your neck. Your moans increased in volume and he was pleased by how sensitive you were just from his lips on your skin. He pulled back and watched your reaction.

You whined at the loss of contact. “Stop teasing me.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “You want more?”

You definitely did. “Please?” You batted your eyelashes.

A smirk grew on his face. “Of course.” He placed his hands behind your back and knees, lifting you up into his arms bridal style. On the way to his bedroom, the two of you didn’t stop the kisses. He put you down gently on the bed and crawled over you, closing the distance between you two as he gave all of his love to you.

[stiltonbasket]

For the Age reversal AU: hey, what about the shit-show of the Jin Zixuan and Qin Su's engagement?

brief a/n: please consider reblogging if you like this ficlet, since the Age Reversal AU is entirely based on reader prompts!

Qin Su's mother never wanted her to marry Jin Zixuan.

In fact, that dubious honor was once meant to go to the first daughter of the Jiang sect, whenever one arrived. But Yu Ziyuan gave birth to a son not long after Jin-furen had hers, and the two boys took an oath of sworn brotherhood when Jiang Wanyin was five years old, still so small and shy that his mother had to bribe him to make him let go of his own brother and stand next to Jin Zixuan.

Even so, Madam Jin would have insisted her husband wait for Jiang Wanyin’s sister before betrothing her son. She would have, and she did; but that year Qin Cangye discovered a new gold mine within his territory, and Jin Guangshan came to visit his old friend, with his lips dripping with sympathy for the one fellow zongzhu that had no male heir to succeed him.

Qin Su’s father had no son, could never have a son, because he loved Qin Su’s muqin dearly, and she died delivering their only child and begged her husband never to consider a marriage alliance with Lanling before she drew her last breath. Qin Cangye upheld her wishes, dodging around all of Jin Guangshan’s veiled hints about uniting their two houses through their children--but then Jin Guangshan offered an amendment to a trading law that limited advantages for subsidiary sects with less reliance on the Jin clan, and Qin Su was engaged to Jin Zixuan on the latter’s sixth birthday.

There was no reason Mother could have had to be against such a thing, her father told her. Apparently Mother didn’t like Jin Guangshan very much--he had something of a reputation when it came to women--but surely that was stuff and nonsense, Father said. If he were, there would be claims of illegitimate children all through the Jianghu, and Qin Cangye has never heard of his best friend having a bastard child. And he had enough sway with Jin Guangshan to ensure that his daughter could come back to her natal home as often as she liked, so she could even live separately from her husband until he succeeded the current Jin-zongzhu.

And hence, Qin Su grew up as Jin Zixuan’s intended wife, trained and molded into the kind of bride a Jin man would like regardless of her own wishes in the matter. She has never been out in the sun without a parasol at formal events, never been allowed to hunt save at night to safeguard her lily-white skin, never allowed to appear in public without being draped in robes of more gold than cloth, bedecked with stitched peonies instead of the pink Laoling rose; and in the same vein, she was taught how to paint and dance and sing and host gatherings of varying sizes by the time she was twelve years old. She cultivates at Jin-furen’s insistence because Jin-furen wants a strong wife for her son, one who won’t die after giving birth to a daughter and leaving her husband without a legitimate heir like Mother did--for Qin Su is meant to continue Jin-furen’s own bloodline, and keep one of Jin Guangshan’s many nephews from becoming Jin Zixuan’s heir.

It would have been better if you engaged him to Ziyuan’s next child! Jin-furen roared, when Yu Ziyuan became pregnant with a daughter not long after the betrothal. There was no vigor in Tang Xia. In ten years of marriage, she had no children, and when she finally managed to bear a child it killed her! If the same happens with Zixuan--you should have waited for Ziyuan to have a girl, for she would have been as strong as her mother, and you would have secured your son’s future along with your own!

Qin Su still wonders if she was meant to hear that, though she supposes it hardly matters. Jin-furen approves of how well she cultivates, and grudgingly admits that she is as beautiful as her late mother, so perhaps they can live harmoniously as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law someday.

Jin Zixuan is nothing but awkward around her, but that hardly matters either. The moment he fathers a son with Qin Su, he is well within his rights to have nothing more to do with her.

“What are you saying, Qin-guniang? That--that’s horrible!”

Qin Su glances up, startled. She’s still not quite sure how she ended up telling Wen Qionglin all this, though he sensed her discomfort when the subject of her engagement came up in conversation and demanded to know the reason behind it.

Damn, she thinks, as Wen-gongzi leaps off the rock he was sitting on and wrings his hands, distraught. Why didn’t I leave it at saying I hated to flout my mother’s last wishes?

There was just something about Wen Qionglin--something that made her want to lay her deepest fears bare to him, and somehow made her so desperately proud of what power she has, since they are equals when they hunt together and no one, no Jin Zixuan nor Lan Wangji nor Jiang Wanyin can rival them. Qin Su is swift where Qionglin is steady, agile where he is strong enough to break stone where his bare hands, and their minds have worked in unison right from that very first night-hunt, when Qin Su sent an arrow through his guan in the dark and pinned the poor boy to a tree.

“It’s all right, Wen-gongzi,” she says, heart twinging at the anguish in her friend’s face. “I’ve had a lifetime to get used to it.”

“You deserve better!” he cries. “Maiden Su, you deserve so much better! Not--not that Zixuan is a bad sort, he’s not--but your in-laws don’t appreciate you, and he doesn’t love you, and you deserve--Su-guniang, you--”

Qin Su reaches out and takes his hand. It’s much bigger than hers, dry as paper, and suddenly she wonders--if only very briefly--what it might be like if she never had to let go.

“It’s all right,” she soothes. “I can hold my own with my in-laws, and Zixuan and I don’t dislike each other. It’ll be a much more...straightforward marriage than most.”

He meets her eyes, wet amber glaring into placid brown, and for a moment she thinks that his look like coals glowing in the heart of a bonfire.

“No, it won’t,” Wen Ning says at last. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”