#or c.) a small wedding
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shutter-bugger · 1 year ago
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A rainy day in Toronto
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farah-blogger · 8 days ago
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Mohanad and Farah’s story
My husband Mohanad and I both worked as administrators at the Palace of Justice in Gaza.
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We got engaged just two months before the war,
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bought an apartment, and began dreaming of a new life together. But the war changed everything. Our workplace and apartment were destroyed, and we lost our jobs. Despite it all, we chose to move forward and got married in the middle of the war, with no wedding ceremony—just a simple union that symbolized resilience amid the devastation.
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We’ve been displaced multiple times, each time facing a new eviction order and starting over again. We were forced to leave everything behind and flee with only a few belongings. The displacement was devastating, as we had to leave behind the life we built and the dreams we held for our future.
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Today, we live in a small home in Al-Nuseirat, struggling to cover basic needs like food, water, and alternative electricity, facing monthly expenses we can hardly bear. Recently, a new eviction notice was issued for our area, and we don’t know what lies ahead. We’re searching for online work and have skills we can utilize, but finding opportunities has been very challenging under these conditions.
After renting the apartment in Nuseirat, we thought we had found a safe haven from the horrors of war. But on the night of 3-11-2024, explosions erupted nearby, and we never imagined one would hit our apartment. Suddenly, a missile struck; walls shook, parts collapsed, and windows shattered, leaving the room we had just been in destroyed.
We miraculously survived, but the place that once felt like a refuge had become a scene of chaos and destruction. With heavy hearts, we gathered what little remained and moved on once again, hoping to find shelter far from this endless devastation.
Vetted by @gazavetters, Number (#42) on this list
Vetted by @90-ghost in this post
Vetted by association in this post
To donate 👇🏻👇🏻
https://gofund.me/0dd287db
Any support would be a new source of hope for us.
Mohanad & farah
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gojonanami · 4 months ago
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c/w: crack, fluff, pre established relationship, married shenanigans, gojo being a dork, gojo being a little jealous, based on a TikTok audio
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"You have to promise not to freak out,"
You glance up from your book, sprawled out on the couch beside Satoru, who had promptly come home from his mission to cuddle up beside you, and you stare at him.
"Those are never comforting words coming from you, Satoru," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "what did you do? Did you steal Gakuganji's guitar again?"
"What? No, I just hid it this time--" you cut him off with a glare, and he pouts, "I still didn't hear you promise," and you shut your book with a sigh, tilting your head.
"I promise, I won't freak out, what is it?" and though you knew it likely nonsense, a small edge of anxiety still bit at your nerves - at the slight chance it was something else, something serious.
“Do you have a crush on me?”
….
Strike that.
“Satoru?”
“Hm?” his lips curled in a small smile.
“You realize we’ve been married for four years?”
“Uh-huh?”
“And we dated for four years before that—“
“Wow, has it been that long?” and you resist the urge to slap your husband.
“Yeah it has,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “so let me ask you, do you have a crush on me, Toru?”
And he grins, “can’t ask a question like that without consequences, sweetheart, are you ready to accept them?”
You pull him close, lips grazing his lightly, before flicking his forehead, and waving the wedding ring on your hand in front of his face.
“Think we’re way past consequences, Satoru,” and he grins, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips again and again, “oh yeah, I never answered your question did I?” And he smiles, ready for his ego to be stroked, “I have a crush on Nanami—“
“EH???”
Somewhere else, Nanami felt a cold shiver down his spine—
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awrkive · 7 days ago
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THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)
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for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.
the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader
GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk
NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]
[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]
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A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically. 
Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling. 
That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.
When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven’t been texting him either.  You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.
The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.
“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.” 
“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise. 
But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.  
“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.” 
Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration. 
“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”
You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”
Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.
Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around. 
While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.  
So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.” 
“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.
Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?” 
He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.
You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?” 
“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay. 
But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place. 
“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.” 
Jungkook can only give you a nod.
It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while. 
He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.
Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.
It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself. 
A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets. 
“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.” 
Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”. 
“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work. 
“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”
Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so. 
Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.
He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break. 
And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.
You, leaving.
The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary. 
But something worries him. 
What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better? 
It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time. 
Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?” 
Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”
“It’s okay.” 
Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”
Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.
“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.” 
“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?” 
Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”  
Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking. 
So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.
It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.
When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.
It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t. 
And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.
For the meantime.
He hopes.   
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Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.
“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.” 
“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”
Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—
“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.” 
Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes. 
“Are you really moping right now?” 
He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.” 
“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.
Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.
“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.
Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?” 
Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.
Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it. 
They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.
Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.
“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.
Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little. 
“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.
When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?” 
“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.
“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?” 
Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.
Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower. 
“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself. 
Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.” 
It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor. 
“You okay there?” 
Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.
“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”
That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?” 
Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?” 
“No.”
Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. 
This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him. 
“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.
“What for?”
“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”
“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that.  __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”
The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.
“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”
“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?” 
Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.
“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”
That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real. 
He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.
“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.” 
Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.
“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers. 
“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one. 
The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive. 
Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car. 
He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.
When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.
Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped. 
Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes. 
He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.
Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.
Right.
He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home. 
And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh. 
He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines? 
And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately. 
He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention. 
It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?
His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.
At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin. 
Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.
You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane. 
These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans. 
He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards. 
But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south. 
God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come. 
The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked. 
Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.
Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes. 
He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more. 
Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you  — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy. 
“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.
“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.
Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.
“Fuuuuck…” 
He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him. 
Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever. 
But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend. 
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”  
Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself. 
The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true. 
Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.
He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes. 
“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it. 
He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore. 
He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.
How pathetic.
What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this? 
There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it. 
Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax. 
You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.
But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine. 
He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm. 
Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs. 
He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror. 
There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.
But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship. 
This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.
Jungkook sighs. 
He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.
And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.  
But at this point, he just feels… tired.
Exhausted. Empty.
He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.
Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.
It is time to move on.
And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.
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Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.
They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly. 
Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode. 
You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all. 
But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.  
“You’re watching that show again?”
You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.
“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”
She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”
You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge. 
“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?” 
“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.” 
“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all. 
“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says. 
“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay. 
Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut. 
“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.” 
You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.” 
“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.
“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”
“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.” 
You wince at her words. “Maybe.” 
Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”
Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.
“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”
She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?” 
You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.
“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.
Still. 
“Have you talked to him?” 
Shoot. 
You shake your head a bit. 
The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.
But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all. 
“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern. 
You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.” 
You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods. 
As if the news was no surprise. 
“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently. 
“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.” 
Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?” 
“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky. 
“Why did Jungkook and him fight?” 
You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry. 
She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.
“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.” 
“You know I worry for you.”
“Hm?” 
“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.” 
You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.
“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now. 
“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head. 
“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.” 
“Do you think he would lie about something like that?” 
It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature. 
“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while. 
Do you just… not feel the same way? 
That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering. 
But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions. 
“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.” 
You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted. 
“You know what I think, honey?” 
You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.
She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?” 
Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you. 
It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing. 
Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already. 
“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.” 
Your lips curl into a tight line. 
You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?
“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?” 
It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you. 
It’s always been Jungkook. 
Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing. 
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It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.
The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time. 
It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly. 
You couldn’t read the look on his face.
Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor. 
The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down. 
There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing. 
Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.
But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.
It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending. 
But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place. 
It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at. 
“I miss you.” 
You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said. 
It was. 
And you didn’t exactly know why you did it. 
Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened. 
There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 
That was as honest as you could get. 
You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it. 
But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away. 
Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head. 
It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused. 
Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.
It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next. 
The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out. 
Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face. 
The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor. 
You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.
Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.
But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime. 
You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be. 
And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open. 
“Oh my god.” 
“What the fuck.” 
“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon. 
A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.
“Wait, __!” 
You hesitantly look back.
It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.
“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.
“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not. 
You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!
… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.
Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.   
“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious. 
They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.
This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.
Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again. 
“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—” 
Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.” 
You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?” 
“I know.” 
He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.
You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.
“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 
At that, you can’t help but react immediately. 
“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit. 
Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed. 
“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” 
“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?” 
She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”
You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.
“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.” 
Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?” 
There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?” 
“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”
“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?” 
Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.” 
Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop. 
“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” 
“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”
She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?” 
You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.
“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”
At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”
You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now. 
“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.
“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.
You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.” 
“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.
“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”
“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction. 
“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.
“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.” 
“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together. 
“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.” 
You wince. “Sorry.”
“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”
“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.” 
Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”
You stare at her before sighing.
“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.” 
“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”
“It’s not my proudest moment.” 
“Why?” 
You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.” 
“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time. 
“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.” 
“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?” 
You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.
“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”
“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.” 
You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.” 
“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments. 
You wince. “You know?” 
“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation. 
You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?” 
“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.” 
You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?” 
She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”
“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?” 
She nods. “Yes.” 
You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”
“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.” 
“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”
“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”
You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”
“He sucks ass at flirting.” 
“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?” 
“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”
You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”
Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.” 
“Yeah?”
She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”
“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.
“When was the last time he was with somebody?”
You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.” 
“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.
You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”
“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?” 
Your brows furrow. “You know her?” 
Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.” 
“Oh.” 
That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.” 
“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…” 
You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.
Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?
“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”
“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”
“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”
You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…
But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…
“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that’s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.
“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.
“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.” 
“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…” 
You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”
Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”
You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.
“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days.  “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.” 
“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?” 
You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.” 
Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.” 
You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”
“He what?”
“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”
Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."  
You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.” 
Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.” 
You give her a small, weak smile.
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You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment. 
It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry. 
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like. 
He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it. 
So Jungkook is home. 
The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick? 
You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook. 
The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place. 
It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments. 
Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight. 
What does this mean? 
“Oh, hey,”
The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand. 
“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him. 
But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you. 
“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.
But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop. 
Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?” 
“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit. 
“Nah, got off a few hours ago.” 
“Oh. Okay.” 
“Yeah.” 
You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air. 
It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another. 
It breaks your heart that’s the current case. 
“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself. 
How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him. 
Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead. 
“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.” 
Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?” 
Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks. 
“Yeah.” 
So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop. 
You give him a small smile. 
“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”
Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.
Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.
But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper. 
“It’s not final.” 
“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that. 
Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”
“Talk to me? Why?”
“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.” 
“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.” 
“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs. 
“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”
“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.” 
“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?” 
You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth. 
Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words. 
You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.
“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop. 
His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?
“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”
Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.” 
“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you. 
Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.
“__.”
You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”
“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”
You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business. 
You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.
And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it. 
“__?” 
“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him. 
When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair. 
You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?” 
Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.
What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—
“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.” 
It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.
“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly. 
You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.
Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here. 
When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone. 
The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days. 
See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman. 
You just really don’t know how to handle this one. 
But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since. 
It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.
It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger. 
Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.
gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?
You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”. 
You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end. 
Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.
You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow? 
To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.
gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?
You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.
gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me.  gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside
You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber. 
gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?
You [10:56pm]: Yeah.
gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.
You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.
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“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you. 
You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind. 
“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”
“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.
You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.
Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually. 
That makes something flare up in your chest.
Fine? He’s been doing fine? 
Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth. 
You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again. 
You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself. 
“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”
And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick. 
“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.
Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?
Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow. 
“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”
The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.
Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”
“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity. 
Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people? 
“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.” 
The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected. 
Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you. 
So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead. 
“What?”
“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.
His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?” 
“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?” 
“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit. 
“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.
“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?” 
You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”
“I’m not anymore.”
Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?” 
“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.” 
Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?” 
“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.” 
“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”
“What are you talking about?”
This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”
You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it? 
You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.
But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not? 
You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green. 
And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.
Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?
“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.” 
“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.” 
Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk. 
Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.
“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–” 
“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now. 
“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.
But you refuse to believe his bullshit. 
“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.” 
Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”
You shake your head.
He nods. 
“Alright.” 
You look at him again.
Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad. 
He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook. 
“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end. 
Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. “Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”
You look away to avoid his intense gaze. 
It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration. 
“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper. 
“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.
In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away. 
You and Mingyu both look at your food. 
“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly. 
Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up. 
“Okay.” 
“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?” 
Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity. 
At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.” 
He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.” 
Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.” 
When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter. 
“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying. 
He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”
“Seriously, I can handle it.” 
Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself. 
“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.” 
At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you. 
With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.
He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave. 
When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.
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Things are… fine. 
Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily. 
You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties. 
While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time. 
It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval. 
While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.
Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.
But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river. 
It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition. 
Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.
And now there’s none of that. 
Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality. 
You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened. 
He’s so… he’s so civil.
And you miss him so much it makes you sad.
It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all. 
You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that. 
Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not. 
Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.
Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.
Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.
“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.” 
Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day. 
Until now, anyway.
Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you? 
“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.
“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder. 
Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it… 
Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing. 
“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.
Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.
“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?” 
You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.” 
He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?” 
You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?” 
Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.” 
With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.
“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.
“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”  
You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it. 
“I told you that never happened.” 
“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?” 
You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it. 
Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor. 
“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.” 
That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?” 
Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.
You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him. 
“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.
And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience. 
But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy. 
“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well. 
“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up. 
Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again. 
“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.
“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that. 
You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.” 
“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”
“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.” 
“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.
“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke. 
But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.” 
The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play. 
You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.
When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song. 
“Can I?” He says. 
You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”
Jungkook only nods, still smiling.
“Only if you want to as well.” 
You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her. 
Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.” 
“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.
Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch. 
Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays. 
Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.
“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.” 
You wince. “What’s the next step?” 
“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet. 
You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well. 
“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet. 
“Wikihow.” 
“Wow.” 
“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.” 
You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”
“So what if you step on me? Just relax.” 
Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.” 
“Even better.” 
“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.
You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest. 
“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.” 
“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.
You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.” 
“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?” 
“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.
Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist. 
“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is. 
You chuckle. “What’s this?” 
Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.” 
You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.
“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?” 
Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again. 
This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.
You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times. 
You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it. 
“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.” 
“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 
“Thank you.” 
You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.
Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing. 
Tonight with words unspoken,
You say that I’m the only one
But will my heart be broken,
When the night meets the morning sun
You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.
That may have taken a hit on you. 
“This is so stupid.” You say.
Jungkook’s quick to react.
“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”
You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.
Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”
Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.” 
“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes. 
“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.” 
“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?” 
“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.” 
“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.
“Maybe…?” 
You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.
You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way. 
Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent. 
You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.” 
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You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles. 
“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.
You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.” 
When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.” 
“What?” 
“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.” 
“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.
One step forward, three steps back.
“How are you two by the way?” 
“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile. 
Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”
“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.
“But… he’s moving out of your place.”
“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.” 
Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features. 
“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks. 
“I…”
“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.” 
You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.
It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something. 
She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?” 
You look away.
You both do love each other. They are right.
And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.
And that was something.
But…
“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.
“What’s scary?”
You inhale a sharo breath.
“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.” 
Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug. 
“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”
“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.” 
“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle. 
“__?”
You hum.
“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.” 
You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”
Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?” 
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?” 
Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you. 
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The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home. 
“Need a ride?” 
The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him. 
“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.” 
Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”
“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point. 
Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?” 
You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away. 
“Sorta, kinda…” 
“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.” 
“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears. 
“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot. 
He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.
You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.
When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?” 
It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.
“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?” 
“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.” 
You slump in your chair hearing that. 
“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.
He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.
“Jungkook.” you call him.
“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.
“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”
Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.
The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep. 
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When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it. 
Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.
You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing. 
You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there. 
Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am. 
With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now. 
You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then. 
Suddenly, an idea goes into your head. 
Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well. 
Maybe Jungkook did all that. 
And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly. 
You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom. 
You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.
“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?” 
Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?” 
“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.
Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”
“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?” 
Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?” 
“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. 
“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.” 
“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?” 
“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.” 
Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”
“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”
You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart. 
You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you. 
Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air? 
Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave? 
You find yourself getting annoyed. 
“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom. 
In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal. 
You sigh. 
Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life. 
A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.
But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile. 
In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking. 
He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”
“Can I sleep here?” 
You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?” 
“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”
Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.” 
“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused. 
“Are you… still drunk?” 
“What? No.”
“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?” 
“About what?”
“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.” 
“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.” 
Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.” 
You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.” 
“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.” 
He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him. 
You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely. 
“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.
You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”
“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.” 
Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it. 
“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile. 
“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.” 
It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic. 
But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different. 
You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines. 
And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts. 
Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?
Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.” 
That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”
“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.
You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.” 
Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown. 
“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”
“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.
He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”
“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?” 
“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.
“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”
Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”
You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder. 
“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.
Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.” 
You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.” 
“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles. 
“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.” 
“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in. 
“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.
He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?” 
“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.
“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”
You smile against his pec after he says the words. 
You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.
There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.” 
Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”
“Don’t sleep yet.” 
“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.
“I’m watching you.” 
He chuckles. “What is it?” 
“Let’s talk more.” 
“How are you still not sleepy?” 
“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”
“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?” 
“Yes.” 
“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”  
“Really? Never?” 
“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”
You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?” 
“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”   
You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything. 
“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.” 
“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding. 
“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine? 
When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal. 
You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.” 
“Oh.”
You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”
“Ah. I had a hunch.”
“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.” 
Silence.
Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?” 
“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?” 
“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face. 
You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.
You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.” 
“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.” 
“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.
It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.” 
Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head. 
“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.” 
You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—” 
“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.” 
“Jungkook…”
He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.” 
“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant. 
“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”
“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.
“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.” 
You inhale a shaky breath.
“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.” 
You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other… 
“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.” 
“How do you mean?”
“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”
You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like. 
“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.” 
It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.
“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.” 
“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.
“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him. 
You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.
“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat. 
“I would really love that.” 
You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.
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Dearest Husband [Consort AU] Pt. II
FEATURING : PRINCE DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x CONSORT male reader
Disaster comes to rain on our beloved couple. Feelings, ego and pride crashing together and in the midst of it all Daisuke stands firm to fight for the person of his desires. How would it end? Would he be able to finally declare his affections for his convenient wedded husband? His back turned against the world, (m/n) surpressing his feelings, hidden from sight. Will our prince win in the war of love?
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17k words of something. no spoilers, proceed at ur own risk, part 1, profile
Find out more under the cut!
Three months had passed….
And our beloved prince of the Eastern Empire, Daisuke Yuichi, could say he was content with his life. His body was great, the people were well, his preparations for ascension was still ongoing and delayed on his part. His marriage especially, was the highlight of his life.
The moans were not discrete, a sultry (h/c) clinging onto the prince, clenching his outer coat while roughly making out with him. Daisuke held onto his waist, one of his hands slowly cupping his ass as he thrusted his tongue inside the consort. (m/n) sucked his tongue, teasingly biting it as they continued their rough affair. They had been taking a walk, in Daisuke’s private garden in the Grand Palace when one of them randomly decided they needed a fresh face fuck.
Luckily, the Royal Palace itself was massive, holding many estates across numerous acres of land. The highlights were the Grand Palace, where the royals resided, Daisuke’s office, the treasury, the throne hall were located. The second but still as grandeur was the Emerald Palace. Its main function was to act as the living quarters of the emperor’s harem, but after the birth of Daisuke Yuichi, his father, the current emperor had divorced all of his spouses except for the previous emperor.
It holds beautiful castles, the famous greenhouse, small lakes with boats and regularly social outdoor parties was held there, Currently, the lavish consort of the crown prince, (m/n) (l/n) became the sole tenant of the Emerald Palace, to which he had secretly waivered the loyalties of its attendants to his reign, Daisuke had suspicions but he would let his favourite and only consort to do so.
Speaking of the consort, their relationship had improved drastically. (m/n) would visit his chambers every three days, and Daisuke visiting his every two. During the day, the (h/c) could be found lounging in Daisuke’s office, not even bothering him or snooping around but to sleep, read, or doing his own hobbies.
Seeing how often (m/n) would lay in front of the fireplace, Daisuke had a custom maroon sofa, with golden stands and plush armchairs, soft padding and an abundant of pillows so his consort could drape himself over the furniture however he’d like. He was satisfied just watching from his desk, how the (h/c) would munch on sweets, flipping a page from his book and he caught himself smiling so often embarrassingly.
They have yet to own a shared room in the Grand Palace, that was reserved for the position of the emperor and his own spouses, so they resorted to have their enticing affairs in Daisuke’s chambers. He adored making love to the (h/c), they were extremely compatible in bed. With Daisuke’s passion and (m/n)’s lust combined, many pleasurable nights had passed, although at the expense of the passing attendants, Daisuke’s knight hates them now.
The aftermath was sweet, he found the (h/c) would cling to him, desperate for skin-to-skin contact as grounding after their mind-shattering sex and he would provide comfort. Wrapping his arms around the consort protectively before drifting off to sleep.
However, he noted that at times, the consort was cold. Sleeping by facing the other way, and when he inquired the (h/c) would brush him off dismissively and Daisuke would just silently hug him from behind. The day after, (m/n) would pretend like that little bit didn’t happen, acting like his usual self. They didn’t have much pillow talk, (m/n) rejected the idea as he shushed him to enter their slumber.
He wasn’t sure how he felt, something had festered in his heart. After their rough consummation, he would see (m/n) walk around with a medical patch on the back of his neck, where he had bitten his nape. Daisuke felt extremely guilty and would dress him in lavish to satisfy his guilt. Had his guilt dragged behind him for this long?
Every time he’d gazed over the consort, when the (h/c) wasn’t looking, there was a longing in his heart, just to wrap his hold around (m/n) affectionately.
He thought his marriage would only be one of peace, but he didn’t expect himself to fall…
Fallen. Bewitched? He brushed the thought off of his mind, not wanting to be dizzy for much longer as he placed down the quill on his desk.
Stacks of letters, invites from other powerful houses, some foreign, mostly his subjects, and invite to their own parties, social events and some even included details of potential suitors, mostly daughters of dukes and counts. Ever since he married (m/n) (l/n), it seemed that the public thought he was open to a harem, given the fact that him and (m/n) couldn’t produce an heir.
His emotions that once fluttered around the (h/c), brewed fire in his heart as he burned the letters, throwing it into the crackling flame as fuel for the hearth, He looked behind him to see the consort sleeping in his designated sofa, a soft blanket loosely draped over his figure.
Daisuke walked over to the (h/c), his steps silent as he crouched in front of the sleeping consort’s face. His eyes glazed over the consort’s features, his eyes, his lips and even to the bridge of his nose…
He pondered how could such a being could appear so beautiful in his eyes, heavenly, bewitching, distinguished and so many words in all of the dictionaries couldn’t even describe how majestic he was to the prince.
Nightfall was encroaching and usually he would carry the consort in his arms, letting him sleep in his room, but he wanted to be selfish this time. Fully absorbing, sketching and engraving this memory into his mind.
It seemed he had taken too much of (m/n)’s whine, who had awakened, stretching his arms and lazily blinking his drowsy eyes. “…Princey?” Daisuke chuckled, now kneeling on the carpet. “Morning, sleeping beaut’.” “…Is it actually morning?” The consort propped himself, glancing at the uncovered windows before dropping himself back on the sofa, seeing that it was actually night instead.
“You sure took your time.” “I am quite tired today…” (m/n) mumbled, covering his face with his arm. Daisuke raised an eyebrow at his ironic statement. “Tired? And here I was, dying at my desk. If I had been pronounced dead, you’d probably be on your third nap.”
“Not my fault.” The (h/c) groggily whacked his shoulder. “I want to sleep more…” He was in a daze, rolling himself off the couch, the prince calmly catching him in his arms and in the safety blanket of Daisuke Yuichi, (m/n) (l/n) dropped his whole bodyweight on his husband.
“You’re heavy. Have you been gaining weight?’ Daisuke kissed the consort, teasing him and instead earning a slap, playful but the message was received, and he laughed, the (h/c) trying to clamber away from him but the prince held him tight, screaming apologies into his ear.
“I’m hungry.” (m/n) stated, his stomach grumbled following their short wrestle. Daisuke was hugging him from behind, both of them tangled in the blanket on the carpeted floor.
“Want to have dinner? I can call your favourite chef to be on duty.”
(m/n) thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. “I just want to have a snack. And get drunk.” Daisuke thought back to when the last time the (h/c) got drunk. They ended making out in one of the trees in the garden at the dead of night. How did the consort managed to convince him? God knows. It was probably the profound bias he had for the (h/c).
“…I can take you to my favourite tavern. It’s on the outskirts of town. The place is safe, with good drinks.” “Sold.” “We’d have to disguise ourselves, however. And that means, leaving all your jewellery behind.”
There was a mocking grumble, copying his speech from the consort. Daisuke only rolled his eyes, “This is how you get caught so easily. Come on.” He heaved himself up, pulling the consort with him as they get dressed blandly, hiding under the hood of their cloaks.
Daisuke had remembered something, quickly snatching one of his small wooden boxes and shoving the item inside his vest before joining the (h/c) at the gates, only a few guards accompanying them with a less lavish carriage that carried no insignia of their royalty as they traversed to town.
It took a while for them to arrive, a bustling tavern with customers in and out of its entrance, most of them leaving with a drunken flush on their faces. Daisuke held (m/n)’s hand as he stepped off the carriage, making sure their hoods were intact and waving at his guards, them nodding and getting into position to guard the place. Usually, Daisuke wouldn’t bring so many personnel with him, only him and his knight would do but since (m/n) was with him, a little extra security wouldn’t hurt.
The two entered the tavern, made their way to an empty table and called for a servant for their orders. A woman, who seemed to be in her late 20s and dressed a bit too exposed for the cold night took their orders and winked at the (h/c). A foreigner was always deemed attractive to the commonfolk.
(m/n) just laughed at the annoyed prince as their orders arrived, the consort immediately chugging the big glass of alcohol in front of him. “You said you don’t drink often.” Daisuke placed one of the tidbits into his mouth, staring at the dazed consort.
“I don’t…” His words were slurred. “But when I do, I drink hard.”
“…Whatever that means.” Daisuke stopped (m/n) from slapping his glass off the table as he pulled out the wooden box from earlier. “I thought this would be an appropriate time to present to you something…although I’m not sure you’re even sane enough to interpret my words.”
(m/n) wrinkled his nose, his face heating up from the alcohol as he slammed his fist on the table. “Hit me.” The prince only chuckled at his antics as he placed the small chest on the table, sliding it to the (h/c). “Open it.”
He grabbed the box, fiddling with the lock for a moment before managing to open its contents. The box itself was small, he thought he was about to receive another set of earrings from the prince but instead there was a skeleton key.
A pure bronze ornate key, with red highlights around the stem, a sharp bit and a small gem latched in the middle of the bow. (m/n) scanned the key confusingly. “…Is this supposed to unlock a bigger present or…?”
“You could say that.” Daisuke seemed excited, for his reaction it seemed, as he pulled out a cylinder leather case and (m/n) wondered how multifunctional his garments was. The (h/c) popped the cap off and shook out the scroll inside. He pinched the edges with his hands as he tried to make sense of the wordings of the paper.
“…A deed?” “Your summerhouse is complete.”
The (h/c) raised his hand at the smiling prince, who seemed like a child, giddy to give a present. “Summerhouse?” “The one you wanted. Beside a lake near the borders, took a while for construction to finish. Of course, that is the key to the gates instead of the mansion itself since the furbishing needed to be done along with a stampede of servants for maintenance.”
The villa that (m/n) had requested way back. Even after he received the treasure chest for the prince, he didn’t continue forward with his plans. Not after the whole incident.
“…But why?” The consort seemed confused, examining the key in his hand before Daisuke grasped his other.
“Consider it my first gift to you as my husband.” With that, the prince kissed the back of his hand, pressing his lips gently onto his skin. (m/n) was still stunned. There were so many presents the prince had gifted to him, but this was far more outstanding than any other.
“…I’m so confused.” “Do you not like the present?” “I do. It’s just…”
(m/n) didn’t finish his sentence, instead downing more alcohol into his system as he placed the key back into the box. Daisuke didn’t press further, the (h/c)’s flustered expression was more than enough to satisfy him.
They continued to drink, (m/n) ordering more than he could handle and it ended up with him hugging the prince at his waist as they exited the tavern. The alcohol was a rush, a good chunk of it in their system and it led to the consort whispering to the prince he needed him as they had a frisky amour in the moving carriage.
After sloppily covering up themselves, they continued in Daisuke’s bedroom, the prince thrusting into the consort, both with drunken pleasure. Daisuke held the headboard of his bed, caging the (h/c) under him as he came inside (m/n) missionary. He plopped himself on top of the consort unceremoniously, (m/n) whining about his sensitive hole still clenching around his cock.
The prince rolled off of him, laying by his side, basking in the afterglow of their misdemeanours. (m/n) sighed heavily, feeling full as he pulled the duvet beside him up to his chest. Daisuke turned to his husband and brushed the strands of hair out of his sweaty face. He gently pulled the (h/c) closer to him and closed his eyes, prepared to drift off to sleep.
“…I don’t understand…”
He opened one of his eyes, in the dark room, barely anything could be seen but it was evident the (h/c) was still drunk, Daisuke having a higher tolerance from his poison resistance buildup, and he was mumbling in a daze. “What do you not understand?” He simply entertained the intoxicated fool.
He smoothened the (h/c) hair, tucking it behind (m/n)’s ear as he inched closer to the consort. “…Whether do you have…an attraction for me…or is it to simply keep the peace.”
Keeping the peace? Even Daisuke couldn’t fully fathom what the mumbling consort was trying to transpire. “…Of course I have an attraction for you. Who wouldn’t?”
An idiot. He thought. Only an idiot wouldn’t fall for him.
“…This peace we have…it’s grounding me together…my sanity…”
(m/n) groggily creaked his eyes open.
“If I had truly been your preference, you wouldn’t have scrapped the idea of your beloved fairytale.”
With that, the (h/c) sank his head into the lush pillow, pushed into the realm of dreams. In contrast with the prince, his statement hit him like a brick. “My fairytale…” He thought back to before. There was only once where he had brought it up, but it had been so long back.
He felt restless, something aching in his heart, but he remained silent, drifting away to sleep.
In his mind, he wondered if he was slowly being smitten by the consort. There was a chance of it happening of course, they had been wed together but the impact was strong, he never felt anything like this in his life. And to think he cares so much about his consort.
His hold around the (h/c) remained strong as he subjected his mind into the abyss.
-
After that night, he found that the consort wouldn’t come to his office as often, distancing himself from the prince albeit his protests claiming that everything was alright. Daisuke felt a cold clench in his chest. As if there was a wall, slowly building up between him and his consort, every time he had become vulnerable, (m/n) would distance himself away. It pained Daisuke to see him hurt. He didn’t want that for both of them.
Maybe if he had spoken more, both of them would be much more open with each other.
Alas, all he could was to wait for the storm in (m/n)’s heart to subside. He had been patient with his bratty behaviour in the past, he can wait for him to mentally recover as long as he’d liked.
It had been a week and a half since, as much as Daisuke would like him to recover, his heart was longing for the consort. So, he decided to visit him alone in the Emerald Palace. The guards stationed there bowed to him, letting him pass with him requesting that they do not announce his arrival, it was a good decision to switch the paladins. Ones that are much more loyal to him.
He had heard that the (h/c) was strategically integrating himself into the Eastern society, mingling with the wives of the powerful, attending balls and parties, as per Ivan had reported to him. Although he was a bit sulky that he wasn’t tagged along, he could invite him to theirs. A ball at the Grand Palace, orchestrated for the holiday in the East. It would be good for him to show off his consort to the nobles.
Cue the yelling and pleadings, snagging Daisuke’s attention as he immediately ran through the halls, reaching (m/n)’s room where there were butlers and maids crowding around the door. The prince pushing himself through and as they noticed him, they all exclaimed, urging him not to enter.
As he pushed the doors open, there were two guards, carefully approaching the (h/c), whose hand was bloody, a stark red in contrast to the mint marble floor. “Your Grace! Please just-!”
“I said LEAVE! LEAVE ME ALONE!!” The knight swiftly avoided an ornament box thrown into his direction, he didn’t hear the shattering of the impact on the floor, so he turned to see-
“You…why are you here…” (m/n) scowled, his teeth gritting, clenching his soaked fist.
Daisuke frowned, his eyebrows furrowed as he ordered the guards to leave. He scanned the (h/c)’s frenzied state, his outer coat tossed somewhere else and his red-coated hand.
“What happened?” He stated firmly, stepping to the consort.
The (h/c) defensively stepped back, behind him was his vanity, broken with a large crack in the middle. The table itself was a mess, he presumed the consort had used it to shoo away the knights. “You don’t need to know.” (m/n) seethed.
“Why are you hurt?” “Leave.” He stepped closer. “(m/n), I’m trying to help-“ “LEAVE!”
“I’m NOT LEAVING! Goddammit (m/n)-!” For every step he took forward, every step the (h/c) backed away, pressing himself against one of the shelves, leaving bloody trails on the furniture from his hand.
It seemed the consort was desperate enough, he started to chuck things to him as well, Daisuke swiftly avoided the barrage of intricate, one of them was a fucking vase holy shit-, and he was closer to the destructive, pained (h/c). “You’re hurt. You’re bleeding for fuck’s sake- I’m not leaving you like this.”
A raw sob tore from (m/n)’s throat, tears slipping down his cheeks as he exclaimed to the prince once again. “Please…I told you to leave!” It was a short altercation, one that involved Daisuke quickly restraining (m/n), holding his wrists together. The consort screamed, kicked and yelled at him, all with his bleeding hand and wet cheeks. This was the worst state Daisuke had ever seen.
He struggled with the consort’s hysteria, ultimately pushing him against the walls, caging him with himself. (m/n) seemed to be out of breath, still crying with his hands held together above his head. Daisuke gazed into his avoiding eyes, worriedly.
“…you’re in pain. Let me help you.”
True to his words, aside from the bloody hand, (m/n) was very much in pain. The (h/c) stared at the floor, silently sobbing. His tears falling from his lower lashes. “…you can’t help me…you’re going to cast me aside…”
“I wouldn’t. I would never.” Leaving the consort was the last thing on his mind. How could he possibly abandon the man he held dear in his heart.
“You will.” (m/n) scoffed, he coughed into the air, his throat aching. “You ought to be a trashy bastard like all the others-!”
“Who?! Who fed this mindset to you?!” He knew (m/n) recently came back from a jamboree, his garments were also an indicator. Did something happen at one of the parties?
“Who dared to ruin you like this!”
“…” (m/n) was quiet, at first. He mumbled nimbly, before finally dropping his bodyweight down, slowly sliding himself to sit on the floor. The prince followed suit, kneeling and sitting onto his own calves, his tight grip was replaced with a gentle hold on the consort’s hands, his eyes silently examining the blood before returning back to the consort who began to tell, confiding in his beloved husband.
-
(m/n) silently sipped from his wine glass, there were chattering all around at the beautifully lit party. It had been another aristocrats’ gathering, and he was invited so by the host, the Countess, the Earl’s wife and she was a pleasant old woman who treated him like most of the peerage. Curiosity and flatter, complimenting him trying to curry his favour and overall, an attempt to get closer to the crown prince since the emperor was known to be closed off regarding his sole heir.
Many people had gone up to him, either to chat or to tease and (m/n) rebutted it with his own charm, having been used to witty remarks especially during his time in the West. Later in the party, he spent some time alone, drinking to himself, rejecting any company.
Until one of them was bold enough to approach him.
It was an old man, dressed wisely and formally. (m/n) recognised him to be one of the ministers as he bowed his head to the consort. He had a look in his eyes the (h/c) recognised. Something scheming and devious mixed together behind a veil of unconcealed flagrant.
He responded little to the older one’s chat, only speaking when he needed to when a remark slipped out of his mouth.
“You are one arrogant little cunt.”
“…Excuse me?” (m/n) raised an eyebrow, already feeling heated in his head. Who had dared to speak to him in such a manner? The old man only smiled, his slanted eyes glaring at the consort. “I’m sorry, did my tongue slip? I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”
“…” (m/n) knew what he had heard, and he wasn’t going to accept this disrespect to his face. He wanted to leave until another approached them, and another, and another until there were many men surrounding him, all dressed in similar attires that was forcing him into a corner.
“I want to leave-“
“It seemed the rumours were true.”
“No wonder the Western Emperor despised him.”
They all ignored him, standing firm in front of him as (m/n) felt he got backed into a corner. He gritted his teeth and yelled for a guard, but the barrage of nuisance prevented him so.
Pointed jabs, back handed compliments were passed. He was scrutinized to his face while the men acted like he wasn’t there. As if they were dissecting him down to his bone, judging his background and reputation present in the kingdom.
“What a wicked man.”
“He’d bring only downfall to our kingdom.”
“A pest, rooted in the rich, clean East.”
“Someone needs to cut him down.”
“Slice him.”
“Burn his defences, let him rot in the mountains.”
“What does the crown prince see in him? There’s so many like him in the cathouse.”
Amidst the passing comments, (m/n)’s patience was ripped from his head.
“…you’d think I give a fuck?” He stared at the man who had originally approached him. “I don’t care how much you try to scheme or attempt to intimidate me. I am the consort, husband of the crown prince.”
(m/n) scoffed at them. “Your precious prince favours me and that is a fact in itself.”
The old man stared back at him with a scowling glare. “You’re a pest to the kingdom…I presume you’re aware.”
The (h/c) only scoffed, smirking at him. “And what about it?”
“The harem is open. And you are unable to produce an heir. How long do you think you would be the sole keeper of the prince’s heart?”
And that hit the consort like a brick.
“I- “
“The kingdom needs an heir. The bloodline must be kept.”
“It doesn’t matter-“ He tried to counter but again flooded with remarks.
“It doesn’t matter to you. You are not of this kingdom. You are not our people, but we. We need a monarch. And if it wouldn’t come from you, it will come from another.”
“It’s about time the crown prince expanded his harem.”
(m/n) didn’t know why, but that sentence struck him the most. He had punched the man who had uttered those words, knocking him to the ground. Gasps of shock from other guests and the (h/c) was pulled away by his own guards. The trail of the men previously disassembled into the crowd, feigning innocence and the victim of his fist insisted he was dandy, that he was at fault for angering the consort, painting him as a hot-blooded bastard.
The consort left the party, not in the mood to converse any further despite the countess’ pleas. He returned to his chambers, tugging off his coat and the maids were preparing a bath for him since his return was at a short notice.
The (h/c) stared at the vintage rectangular mirror in front of him, gazing into himself, his furious expression looking back. The servants exchanged looks, some of worry and some of curiosity. (m/n) was too busy in his own thoughts to even reprimand them.
How long had he been the prince’s lover? No. Not lover. He couldn’t possibly be the object of his desires. If at most, then bedwarmer would be a better fitting for a heel like him.
The prince, his touch, his gaze, would he have to share them with someone else? A woman, perhaps. Someone able to carry his offspring.
It doesn’t matter. He thought, a pitiful attempt at convincing himself. It shouldn’t matter. Why would the prince’s love life be a meddling of his own? He’s satisfied with the things they are now. He’s supposed to be.
“How long do you think you would be the sole keeper of the prince’s heart?”
…did he even had a chance to embrace his love? Was there ever a moment that the prince, Daisuke, had shown his affection for him, without him thinking about the setbacks. Barely.
“…that fucking…”
Fairytale. Daisuke’s stupid fairytale. The one he told (m/n), the one where he expressed, he didn’t get to relive. A love story. Weren’t theirs supposed to become the upbringing of one? Was he so demure in the prince’s eyes that he wasn’t worthy of a possibility to fall for him?
“-Your Grace, the bath is read-“
A scream erupted from the girl, and (m/n) realised his knuckles were bleeding, and the mirror in front of him had broken.
“…Get out.”
“But Your Grace-!” “I said GET OUT!”
-
Not long after, Daisuke had arrived and that was how the whole commotion happened. Currently, they were alone, (m/n) sitting against a wall and Daisuke holding his bloody hand gently in his. He made sure there were no specks of glass in his knuckles.
The (h/c) had told him everything that happened at the party, except the aftermath, he didn’t confide of his troubling feelings regarding the prince.
“Who?” That was his first question uttered to the consort. “Who were they?” His voice bristled with anger, his composure gone with a gaze that was demanding an explanation from the consort, one that (m/n) didn’t return.
The words hung heavy in the air, laced with conflict. “…I don’t want to think about it any longer.” “(m/n), you need to tell-“ “I need to cool off…I need to think to myself.”
Daisuke’s expression slumped into a deep frown. The consort seemed so fragile, as if he could break at any moment. “I’ll-“ “By myself…I need to recollect myself.”
It seemed at the moment (m/n) finally registered the pain in his hand, causing him to wince in agony. As Daisuke gently held his wrist, taking out the cloth from his pockets to wrap around the wound. “If you let a doctor tend to your wounds, I’ll leave you for the day.” He gently kissed the now-wrapped hand. “But I’ll come to see you in the night.”
(m/n) stared at him for a moment, a blank look in his eyes before muttering. “Do what you like.”
And so, the sequence of events unfolded. A healer came to tend to the consort, maids came in to clean up the aftermath and Daisuke left. His gaze fixated at the closing door, but it wasn’t returned, (m/n)’s eyes downwards as he shut the tall doors in the prince’s face. Daisuke lingered for a moment before taking his leave. He requested Ivan to find the list of attendees of the countess’ party and asked him to send a mail to personally request for an audience with the Earl and his wife.
He wasn’t sure what to do. Politicians harassing his husband was the last thing he anticipated, he had let his guard down for too long. Being around (m/n) really made him feel like he had stepped into the heavens and he hadn’t noticed the sinking (h/c) that was descending into what seemed like hell for his husband.
When he stepped into the bath, he stared at the murky waters, and a hazy version of himself stared back. Me with another? He couldn’t possibly fathom the thought or imagine himself being with another. Be it a man or a woman. The second he had shared a bed with his consort, the ideal love story that had envisioned his mind as a kid had been scrapped.
“Fairytale…” Daisuke tried to pull a foggy memory from the back of his head.
(m/n) had mentioned it a few times. Had he been offended back then? It was just a passing comment. Why would the consort care as so, even he himself hadn’t declared any type of romance intentions to the prince-
Romance…The thought sent heat creeping up his neck, as opposed to the chilly water surrounding his body. Glancing at himself in a mirror, he found his face to be completely flushed, rosy hues decorating his pale cheeks. He didn’t even notice when his expression had changed into one of embarrassment. The prince felt bashful for a moment as he cupped his face with his palms sighing into them.
The prince's mind was consumed with thoughts of the consort— the joyful moments spent basking in his smile, his contagious laughter, and his endearing bratty mannerisms. Yet, the most heart-wrenching moments were those filled with sadness, when he witnessed the consort's tears and heard his anguished cries, or when the consort had pushed him away.
Daisuke’s soft cheeks filled the crevices of his rough tattered palms. His upper lashes fluttering, catching small droplets of water.
He was in love. In love with (m/n) (l/n).
And in that very moment, Daisuke realised that the (h/c) was no longer a mere consort he was forcefully wedded to, instead he was his husband, a man he had come to yearn, to love for.
Daisuke made his way to the Emerald Palace again that night. He was dressed more casually, in a long white creamy robe and his mind was free from heavy thoughts as he dismissed his escorts and knocked on the door. He half-expected his husband to lock him out for the rest of the night but to his surprise, the door was pulled slightly ajar just after his third knock.
Footsteps left the door, and he heard shuffles on the bed. He pushed the door open and shut it behind him and upon entering, he found that all of the curtains were closed and the only source of light was from the lit candle on the dresser. On the bed, (m/n) was laying on his side facing away from him. Daisuke silently went to the edge of the bed and climbed over to him. Shifting the blankets under him, he laid and curled himself into (m/n)’s back, wrapping his arm around his husband’s midsection, spooning him from behind.
Seeing the (h/c) was quiet, the prince remained silent as well, rubbing his thumb into (m/n)’s sleepwear before muttering.
“Regarding the fairytale…I never meant for it to represent my desire, my desire of which I want it to come to life..”
“…”
The response from (m/n) was a deafening silence, Daisuke continued.
“I didn’t…plan nor hope for any of it to actually happen. My father, he didn’t have the best relationship with the previous Empress, and I wish for my marriage to be different, to be ideal.” The ravenette thought of his mother that now only existed as a passing thought.
“But I never expected for us to happen. A marriage of convenience. At first, all I wished for was peace with my suitor. But the more I got to know you,” He kissed the shell of (m/n)’s ear.
“I’m happy you were my spouse. And I don’t care about some plot anymore. All I want is you.”
“…you don’t…don’t tell me this…”
(m/n)’s voice was strained and raw. Had he been crying again?
“I don’t want to know…I don’t want to care anymore…”
Daisuke nuzzled his hair with his nose, breathing in the scent of lavender present in his strands. “Why are you so scared?” He whispered softly.
“I’m not scared, I’m being realistic.” (m/n) seemed defiant, hinted with a twinge of shakiness.
“You are. I won’t look at anyone else. Yet you still fret.”
“I keep pushing you away. I’m a selfish man. I’m destructive and you know it.”
His tone sounded dead, like he was tired of it all. The prince’s grip on his husband was firm.
“Even if you are, we’ll persevere. We can work through it.”
“We won’t. You will give up on me. You will forget me.”
His dark eyebrows furrowed, nuzzling more into (m/n)’s nape, frowning at the indication.
“Now why would you even consider that happening…”
There was no universe where he would even think of abandoning him yet (m/n) kept dwelling on the possibility-
“Because that’s what I did to all the others.”
Daisuke became quiet as a heavy silence descended upon the room. His tongue wouldn’t move. The prince was at a loss of words. With that, (m/n) let out a pained sigh as he continued.
“My past lovers…I got bored and left. What if karma comes back to punish me?”
“…It won’t. Not through me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I hate you.”
“I love you.”
The (h/c)’s body went rigid in his hold as the prince took a deep breath, his hands now clammy, growing damp with a nervous sweat.
With a tremulous voice, Daisuke confessed. “I’ve come to realised that I have loved you. For some time now.” He noticed his voice was shaky, and the consort was holding in his breath.
 “I have feelings for you. Ones that…I’ve never felt for and unlike any other. And ones that I want to keep. So please… don’t drive yourself to sickness over me…” His hold tightened around the consort, a silent plea. “I won’t leave us. Not now. Not ever.”
The tension was high in the room, the air taut with an undercurrent of unease, even in the comfort of their bedding. Daisuke buried his face into his husband’s shoulder, his heart racing, waiting anxiously for (m/n)'s response to his confession.
“…okay.” And that was all he received before it became silent again. A sense of worry lingered in his heart but he forced himself to sleep, not achieving a conclusion for the night.
But he would find himself awakened to an empty bed tomorrow once more.
-
The prince stared at the empty spot beside him, with hazy eyes as he rubbed his face with a twinge of annoyance. He ought to lock his husband up if this keeps occurring. He got off the bed and snagged a maroon robe on, a white undershirt and black pants with some casual boots as he exited the chambers to find the (h/c).
Daisuke asked the knights stationed outside where the consort was, and they reported that he went to get some air, accompanied by his own sets of guards somewhere in the courtyard and that’s where Daisuke went.
As his feet led his steps, the heels clacking against the painted concrete, he thought of what to say, how to coax his husband. In his mind there were many things circulating as well, the West Emperor, the Countess’ party, (m/n)’s past lovers…Fuck. He’s already feeling jealous at the mention of an ex-lover.
But now, his marriage is on the rocks. And he would do anything to save his relationship. For the (h/c), for him and for the both of them. He found a pair of paladins, watching over a scenery and he went up to them, asking where the (h/c) is.
They point to where (m/n) is and he sees a lone figure staring into the distance, in the midst of a green field. He steeled his heart for the ultimatum of their marriage.
-
(m/n) stared at the green open scenery, his arms folded with only a moss green blanket over his shoulders with his previous sleepwear. Despite the tranquil expression on his face, his mind had a storm. And the storm was filled with memories of his life.
The second born of the dukedom. He was raised with the knowledge that he would never inherit the House of (l/n), especially from his relatives. Compared to his older brother, he grew up with spite although his parents showered him with presents and love, he was never satisfied, knowing that he'd never achieve the title of a Duke.
But he was a smart kid, so he studied people, studied psychology, how to manipulate, how to act. So he could use those around him for his own advantage. He used his parents, he used his brother, and it didn't help he developed his own charm so he had lovers, especially those rich ones with the promise of marriage and his unconditional love but all was empty.
As soon as the well was sucked dry, he left, letting them grovel at his feet, begging for him to return but he didn't spare a glance. (m/n) was having fun for himself, although he would get reprimanded by his brother once or twice but a slap on his wrist and he was already on his way to ruin someone else's life.
Deep down inside, he knew what he was doing was terrible, that no one deserved the kind of treatment he was giving, especially seeing those enchanted eyes that were bewitched by him. But he justified himself, saying that he did what he wanted because he had no other prospects due to his heritage, due to his circumstances.
And the one he hated the most...(m/n) never got close to the West crown prince. They had merely chatted once or twice but that was all it took for the Emperor to rain hell against him. His parents had backed him, his father who was still the Grand Duke and that seemed to put him off but alas, the news of his hand in marriage sold to the East for the promise of peace between the kingdoms.
(m/n) felt dread when he received the news, especially when he found out that his family couldn't even accompany his departure to his wedding, mostly hooked up with missions that all linked back to the royals and he knew that old scumbag was against him.
So he went, fooling with a few people before entering into a foreign world, an unpredictable marriage with a foreign prince. He could only bring a couple of maids and footmen that volunteered to journey along with him to the East and truthfully, that made him feel sick. Homesick.
He missed the safety of his home, the comfort of his parents and even the harsh but gentle reprimandings of his brother. They were what had been grounding him all his life.
So he acted out and so many things had happened and he got to know the prince. Was claimed by him viciously in a way that he lewdly enjoyed and for a moment he thought maybe he could have an actual life in the East- until the prince mentioned his stupid fairytale. What Daisuke couldn't experience. Love? Is he not enough?
Then, he realised what his past lovers had said and it seemed that he was in that feeble position he had spat at long ago. The thought of another consort in Daisuke's harem made him sick. So he pushed his feelings deep down, thinking that there would only be pain and disappointment if he were to bring them to light.
Now that Daisuke...his husband had confessed to him in the cold night, he didn't know what to say. How to even act. How to respond. But there was a sliver of thought that the prince didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve him.
But he wanted to cry if Daisuke would find someone else instead, to spend their time together, to sleep in the same bed. (m/n) should be the only one to do so, not anyone else no matter how many people demanded for an heir but he understood the responsibilities of a crown prince but he just couldn't bear the thought of-
"Fuck." He whimpered. It almost seemed impossible but he had fallen for the prince too.
But he couldn't. He shouldn't. He would only drive the prince to despair. He was a bitch to deal with, his mood swings, his temperament, his attitude.
He heard the shuffles of grass, light footsteps behind him. The (h/c) turned around to see the last person he wanted to see, Daisuke walking to him, (m/n)'s robe he had adorned flowing behind him. The cool sun and the morning fog almost made it seem romantic, he always had handsome features befitting of a prince.
Even with despair in his mind, he still found time to admire the prince. When Daisuke stopped in his tracks, they both stood facing each other, (m/n) being quiet and pulling the blanket in closer.
Daisuke was the first to speak.
"I woke up alone. Again." His tone seemed disappointed? Mundane. (m/n) wasn't sure. "I think at this point, I should be the one afraid of being abandoned."
If it had been any normal situation, the (h/c) would think the prince was being cheeky. But even the gardeners knew they were both tense at the moment.
"I needed some air. I brought the guards with me."
"Could've woken me up. I would've accompanied you."
He shook his head. "It'd be a bother." "It wouldn't."
Daisuke was quick to cut his sentence. "I wouldn't mind. I would have enjoyed spending time with you." "Stop pushing this matter."
"What matters? So you admit that there's something wrong with you?" His voice was raising and (m/n) felt mad at the moment. "Your Highness, don't do this to me now!"
"What? I can't call out your bullshit? You're so stubborn when it comes to compromising-" "For fuck's sake, it's still morning, even the fog hasn't gone away and we're already fighting! I don't understand why you think we'd be a good match!"
(m/n) felt his own voice shouting as well, garnering looks from the working servants.
"Of course we're going to fight! It's okay that we fight! Fighting is not necessarily a bad thing. That's just how we sort things out-" "You know I'm the reason we fight most of the time. Hell, I even disrespect you, the crown prince out of all people, yet YOU CALL ME STUBBORN BUT YOU'RE STILL WITH ME-"
"YES! I AM STUBBORN TOO! I call you out when you're being a fucking jackass and you come lashing back at me with a four-second recoil. We're hard to work with. So what?! We'll solve this. I want this and I want you-"
"You do not want me." (m/n) seethed, frustrated with Daisuke who was wiping his face with his hands, equally upset.
"I do. I want you."
"Nobody wants me." The (h/c) shook his head, keeping himself in denial. "Not like you."
Daisuke frowned. He pointed to (m/n), trudging closer to him. "I do. I crave for you. My body is a drought without you- not even the richest of waters can quench this thirst, my heart yearns no one else but you." The prince seemed desperate, desperate to get his message across (m/n)'s thick skull who couldn't fathom that someone could love him this much.
"You shouldn’t want that, you’re the prince for heaven’s sake- this is NOT RIGHT FOR YOU-!"
"And who are you to tell me what is right for me? Ever since you came here all you did was go against me and I persevered! I put up with your bullshit because that’s how much I fucking love you!"
"You do NOT LOVE ME! STOP TELLING YOURSELF THAT-"
"I DO!!" Daisuke screamed at him, something that even (m/n) thought he would never do, rendering him eye-wide and speechless. The prince continued his yelling.
"NOT EVEN THE ANGELS THEMSELVES CAN SING HATRED INTO MY HEART! NOT EVEN THE DAMNATION OF THE EARTH CAN SHATTER THE HOLD YOU HAVE ON MY MIND! I CONSTANTLY THINK OF YOU! YOU ARE A DISEASE TO MY LIFE! A DISEASE I DO NOT WANT TO BE CURED FROM! If I had to be a sick man to dedicate myself to loving you for the rest of my life then SO BE IT!"
(m/n)'s breath was stolen away, stolen by the prince's declaration. His passion for him, out of all people and Daisuke was heaving, his face almost turning red from his long exclamation in one single breath.
"I don’t understand…how can you…how can you proclaim such a thing for me…I don’t deserve this. This happiness. It sickens me. I don’t deserve you." Tears fell from his eyes unknowingly, he sobbed into his hand, confused on how could someone love him this much.
Strong arms wrapped around his figure, Daisuke hugging him and gently touching their foreheads together to comfort themselves. (m/n) was pushing him away again. "We can't...we shouldn't..." He mumbled through his cries.
He might be the most stubborn man Daisuke had ever met and he had enough of his crap.
(m/n) choked when Daisuke tugged his collar, pulling it up and shoving the (h/c) away. The prince glared at him through glassy eyes. "…if you despise me so much then push me away again. I shall leave."
The (h/c) shook his head fervently. "...I can't. I can't possibly-"
"I'm giving you a choice, Lord (l/n)." The use of his last name made (m/n)'s heart drop as he looked at Daisuke, his expression helpless. "A choice to choose between us…or you. If u oh so desire to not be loved by anyone, then say it again."
"Please don't...don't make me-"
"It shouldn't be hard for you. You always knew what you wanted." (m/n) was heartbroken as a tear dropped down Daisuke's cheek.
"And I know who I long for."
The (h/c) couldn't speak, only stammers and cries escaping his throat, his hands clawing at Daisuke's sleeve, begging him to not make him choose. He couldn't make Daisuke suffer, not after what he did, his past sins were haunting him at night, terrified that karma would murder him in his sleep.
But at the same time he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to keep the prince all to himself. He didn't want any other woman to be able to embrace Daisuke like how he would on their passionate nights. Undeniably, he yearned for his husband's touch no matter how much he repressed his feelings.
"I want you...I...I want you, Daisuke."
Daisuke's grip was shaky as (m/n) cried out for him. "I don't want to see anyone else with you...I'm greedy. I want you for myself..." The prince pulled him into his hold, both of them falling to their knees as the prince freely let his tears flow from his eyes.
"I love you. I love you so much." Daisuke sobbed as he hugged his husband. (m/n) nodding and burying his face into the prince's shoulder. "I'm not an easy person to live with." His worry was still creeping in his mind.
"If I have to go to war with you everyday, then I'll fight until my last breath." The ravenette kissed his temple, thanking the heavens in his heart. "I'm no good for you…" A croaky remark came out of the consort.
"Then call me a madman because you are the first thing I want to see in every waking breath and the last thing I want to see with my dying one." He pulled (m/n) to face him, both of their expressions teary. "I love you, (m/n). Not even my father can change that."
Daisuke pulled his husband into a kiss and for the first time, (m/n) wholeheartedly accepted the kiss, his heart opening and slowly filled to the brim. His hands grasped at the prince's back, desperate for comfort as Daisuke deepened the kiss.
Fuck, he actually felt happy at the moment.
They spent their time clinging onto each other, (m/n) crying apologies at the prince, Daisuke muffling his own tears as they laid together in the field. In his heart, he was glad, a burden lifted off his shoulders, that the consort finally opened his heart to him regardless of his constant objections. He was so happy he got to keep his lover with him
-
"What the fuck..." One of the guards that was watching over them sobbed into his gloved palm. "Our prince...I didn't even know..." The other man elbowed him in his side, he was hiding his own tears as well. "I told you not to fucking *sobs* look, you bastard."
-
Things were mostly peaceful after the confession. (m/n) resided mostly in his chambers, his hand was healing and he was getting lots of rest from his mania the other day. Daisuke often visits him, sleeping in his bed with him, his father even sent a get-well-soon bouquet and the consort felt embarrassed about the whole shenanigan.
He didn't want to think about those stupid politicians. Just the thought of them makes his blood boil despite Daisuke's pestered to spill their identities so he could 'do something'.
He received a letter from the Earl's wife, an apology from her guests' behalf for his upsetting and invited him for tea for reconciliation.
(m/n) didn't reply, but he suspected she would be coming to the ball tonight. A ball held in the Grand Palace, for a holiday occasion. One where (m/n) wasn't planning to go.
He rejected the idea, not interested in meeting the public again or for another stupid social event. Although Daisuke asked him over and over to come to the ball since he had to attend, he refused nonetheless.
So here he was, standing in the balcony of his room, staring at the lights lit up and the multitudes of horses and carriages surrounding the entrance of the Grand Palace. He wondered if Daisuke would be dancing with someone else at the ball.
He randomly glanced to the left, the far left of the side of the Emerald Palace, where the woods meet the edge of the property and he saw a glint. It was like a glint of metal, a sword maybe? He squinted his eyes to see random movement and there was uneasiness in his heart as closed his balcony doors, sliding into his duvet
Maybe it was the guards patrolling the area, although he knew most of them were stationed at the ball since gatherings of high society required more security.
Something was odd.
He pulled the door ajar, to call for a maid but immediately closed it back once he saw an unknown man dragging a body of an unconscious maid. More came flooding in the hall opening the rooms, all dressed in black carrying swords and he knew his life was in danger.
It was either an ambush or a kidnapping.
This wasn't a peculiar situation to him, he was the son of a duke, there were numerous attempts of kidnapping since he was young for ransom from his rich family. He understood the position of a consort made him a bigger target.
He locked his doors, threw the balcony doors open, grabbed a dagger from his bedside table and slid under his bed to hide. The dukedom had trained him since he was little, how to hide from kidnappers. His fighting skills may have been rusty, but it should hold until the other knights arrive nonetheless.
There were hush yelling outside until his door was kicked open. Three men came flooding into his room and they cursed when they saw the open balcony.
"He's escaped. Target's not in his palace." "Get the ground men to search for the courtyard. He couldn't have gotten far. Kill on sight."
Fuck, it was an ambush. To take his life. He held his breath under his bed as footsteps left his room, until one retracted and stepped towards his closet.
This one is slightly smart. (m/n) thought as his beautiful closet was pulled open roughly by the ruffian. He readied his dagger and stabbed him by the Achilles' heel once he kneeled to check under the bed.
(m/n) rolled out of his hiding spot and kicked the screaming man in his throat, knocking him back onto the closet, rendering him unconscious.
He quickly gathered his bearings as he gripped the bloodied dagger, leaving his room for safety. The consort trudged down the halls and cursed at himself once another assailant spotted him, yelling for his other accomplices as (m/n) ran for his life.
He ran past a few familiar faces, his maids and servants, even his knights were all unconscious and (m/n) rolled his eyes at their hapless circumstances.
He wanted to run down the stairs but eventually clambered up instead when more assailants were coming up. He heard yelling for backup, looks like some of his knights were finally coming to their senses and there were clashing of swords between the paladins and the ambushers.
(m/n) ran down another hall, attempting to exit through the West Wing but he was tackled by an assailant, knocking the wind out of his chest. He punched and kicked the unknown masked man, the man retaliating and swinging his sword to his face but (m/n) barely dodged it, his cheek now bleeding.
He stabbed the dagger deep into neck after a few more punches and the man fell to the floor, choking on his own blood. The consort hissed in pain, his side bruised from the jabbing of a hilt and he hoped reinforcements would just come already but he faltered seeing more assailants at the end of the hall, running to him.
He did the next best thing.
The shattering of a window cut through the air and (m/n) jumped out of the third floor.
His target was the large trees surrounding the palace but his grip faltered and he fell, landing on branch after branch, grunting and cursing after every hit until he fell to the dirt floor in an awkward position.
He huffed, taking in breaths as he hoped the assailants wouldn't find him in the deep shrubbery he had landed in. (m/n) was too tired to get up to find his guards. They should be the one looking for him, not the other way around so he just laid there in the bush like a lazy twat.
(m/n) wondered what Daisuke was doing. That even if he cared that he was in this dangerous predicament. It was him who didn't want to go to the ball, leaving himself vulnerable.
He sighed, not wanting to scramble his thoughts any longer as he ignored the throbbing pain down his leg. Was something broken?
He took a peek and swore to not look down again. He swore something was poking out of his leg. And at that moment, horns were heard and reinforcements finally arrived. (m/n) sighing in relief.
"Fucking finally-" "KILL THEM ALL!!"
His mouth dropped at the familiar voice. In the distance was Daisuke, in his still lavish suit, fresh from the ball, drawing his sword with a face full of fury and a barrage of knights behind him. (m/n) forgot that the prince had been a commander at one point, as per his wedding suit.
"SLAUGHTER EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM! THERE WILL BE NO SURVIVORS SPARED UNTIL THE CONSORT IS FOUND! FIND MY HUSBAND ALIVE OR I'M TAKING YOUR HEADS INSTEAD!!"
(m/n) wanted to giggle, because how down bad was the prince to murder the assailants and the knights if he was found dead. The paladins seemed to be pumped as they stormed the Emerald Palace, joining their brothers in the fight and bringing the staff to safety, all in the search of him and he could hear Daisuke screaming his name.
He rolled his eyes as he fumbled for a stone and threw at one of the guards running by, hitting their back plate. "What the-! THE CONSORT!! We found the consort!"
The guard immediately went to him, opting to pull him out of the shrubbery under the trees next to the entrances, how (m/n) was so close to victory, but he hesitated once he saw the consort's leg.
"I don't want to know." (m/n) deadpanned. He still hadn't fully embraced the pain from the adrenaline and he's not in the mood right now. Just in time, Daisuke had arrived at his location, scrambling off his horse and onto his knees, hugging him and spilling tears.
"Thank heavens, you're safe! Are you injured? Are you hurt anywh- OH MY FUCKING GOD?!!!" He grabbed a potion from one of the emergency medics behind him, it seemed that a lot of the guards had surrounded him, some out of curiosity on how the hell the consort ended down there and some were detaining the assailants.
Daisuke urged him to drink the small bottle, apparently as an anaesthetic because the injury was that bad but again he didn't want to know the severity of it.
Him and two other knights carefully lifted up the consort, laying him in an open carriage as Daisuke handed his husband over to his personal knight. "Bring him to the royal infirmary. Now." The knight nodded and sat on the horse, carrying the injured (h/c) to safety.
It seemed Daisuke wanted to deal with the rest of the assailants himself.
"Your Grace, you seem oddly calm. Your bone is sticking out-" "I don't want to fucking know, bro."
-
(m/n) was sulking, throwing a tantrum as he yelled for the guards to let him pass. It had been a few days since his attempted assassination and he was placed on house arrest or more specifically bed rest since he broke his leg, had a few bruises and the obvious bandage on his cheek.
Well, it wasn't his room he was staying in, instead he was confined to Daisuke's room. The man had gone berserk, catching all the assailants which were shockingly around forty men which was suspicious amount just for the murder of one consort.
He was furious and didn't even let (m/n) voice his thoughts of staying elsewhere as he locked the (h/c) inside his room. The consort couldn't do much, his left leg was in a cast from his ankle up to his knee. (m/n) was annoyed and frankly upset that he had to be placed in a protective lockdown just because someone wanted him dead.
Other than that, he thought he looked like a total loser using crutches because his arm strength was not the best, he’d be stumbling over himself half the time. So he opted for a wheelchair instead. He almost puked seeing the standard boring hospital wheelchair and Daisuke bought him a golden one instead. "It will do." He huffed as his personal maid pushed him down the halls after finally arguing and winning against the paladin to let him get some fresh air.
That came at a price of five knights surrounding him and his maid. All of them were talking military slangs so he was annoyed when they mentioned 'baby eagle has left the nest' but it seemed pretty obvious that they were his guard dogs.
"Don't fret, Your Grace. All will be fine soon." His maid consoled him, pitying at his annoyed state. "These idiots are blocking my view...and this cast is UGLY!" They were outside, (m/n) breathing a sigh of relief, finally escaping containment, still surrounded by knights however.
"And where the hell is the prince??" (m/n) hadn't seen his husband for the past two nights despite him practically living in his chambers. What the hell was he up to now?
-
Screaming echoed against the moist stone walls, a dimly lit prison with a sconce mounted onto a wall. There was a severely injured man, strapped to a wooden chair with belts around his wrists, ankles and waist. Most of his fingernails were ripped out, a bloody wrench was very effective, the beholder stared down at the impaired prisoner, his guards standing behind him menacingly.
Daisuke spoke, his voice low and commanding. “I’ll ask again. Who is your client?”
“I don’t know!” He sobbed out, tears and snot coated his face along with the occasional blood. “We only received a photo and a fuck ton of money- my men have no idea who employed us!”
The prince had been in the dungeons for a few days, slowly killing the remainder of the infiltrators who dared to step foot into the Emerald Palace, especially the ones who laid hands on his husband. He used a number of tools, screwdriver, wrench, a hammer, even a scalpel and once he found out who was the ringleader, he didn’t hesitate to rid the useless ones.
“How much did that bastard pay you?” “I can’t just- FUCK FUCK IT HURTS!!” One of the guards drove a heated steel rod into the gaping wound of his thigh, the ringleader cursing and screaming at the pain enveloping his body.
“It was five million- THE DOWN PAYMENT WAS FIVE MILLION STOP STOP!”
Daisuke gave it more thought, (m/n) was wanted dead, not kidnapped, someone paid a huge amount of money, enough to buy a palace, as down payment for his head. He racked his head, connecting more dots and gazed over the tattoo on the ringleader’s neck.
“A lion…you’re not from here, are you?”
The ringleader shook his head, wailing over the lack of feeling in his leg as Daisuke left the dungeon. “I’ll need to see a friend next week. Clear my schedule, Ivan.” His secretary who held in his retch, nodded as he walked beside him.
“Oh, and how’s (m/n) doing?” “Well, he’s outside right now. Strolling near the greenhouse.”
Ivan had received an update from one of the footmen spying on the consort, for safety purposes or Daisuke’s paranoia.
“…Let’s prepare a gift for him. Burn the dead ones. We have no need for them anymore.”
-
(m/n) was still sulking, strolling by the flowers in the wheelchair pushed by his loyal maid. The greenhouse was a beautiful place, often visited by the ladies of the kingdom just for the scenery itself. A big glass dome towering over the fauna that flourished and decorated the place. Endangered, foreign and unique floral bloomed in the gardens that were tended to by the gardeners. The (h/c) would often find peace just by being present in the greenhouse.
“All of you are dismissed.” He must have been daydreaming to just notice Daisuke had walked to them, shooing away his maid and the paladins, although they insisted they could tend to the consort but Daisuke denied it otherwise.
“How are you, my love?” Daisuke pushed his wheelchair, guiding him out of the greenhouse as (m/n) fidgeted with the thin blanket laid across his lap. “I’m fine. I feel fine, I think.” The prince chuckled, brushing his oddly stained fingers against his hair.
“I hope you’ll feel much better after I show you,” He coughed into his fist. “A little something that I made.” (m/n) could hear the teasing tone in his voice and he couldn’t guess what other present Daisuke had in store, considering that he had bought every single riche his kingdom had to offer for the (h/c).
“I’m excited.” He replied sarcastically. Daisuke laughed again and the (h/c) wondered if the prince had gone insane just by the amount of laughs he donned in the span of thirty seconds. “Allow me to…vent for a bit, husband. Monologue even.”
“Do as you like.” (m/n) sank into his seat, gazing at the landscape as they headed to the South Wing of the Grand Palace.
“…At the time of the ball, I felt quite lonely. The Earl came up to me, asking for you but of course I rejected his audience, for your recuperance. Many of the guests mentioned I looked like I was looking for something, someone perhaps…Even my father teased me, said I looked like a lost puppy.”
(m/n) snorted at the thought of Daisuke moping around in the ball, all elegant with his suit.
“I was so used to having you by my side…I couldn’t fathom the thought of you, not being around me. I felt unease…
So when your servant came running in, screaming that your palace had been ambushed…I felt dread and…anger.”
The path they were taking were cobblestones, far from the marble and concrete (m/n) was used to.
“Someone wanted you dead, (m/n).”
The (h/c) felt creeped out by this…side of Daisuke. He stopped fidgeting with his blanket.
“…But I’m not letting them have their way. I’m not letting them take you away from me, not when we have this…this love we harbour.
We’re here.”
They arrived at the barracks, for soldiers and knights of the kingdom. (m/n) never stepped foot here, he didn’t need to dirty his hands like the rest of them, Daisuke pushed his wheelchair into the courtyard that was far different from the ones in his properties.
The grounds were only soil, tattered and unkempt used for training but it was empty for this occasion. He was still scrutinizing the rest of the conditions before Daisuke leaned down next to his ear.
“Look up.”
A quiet gasp escaped his lips, his eyes wide as his palm went to cup his mouth in shock. Daisuke peered at his reaction before glaring back at the bodies before them
Three men were nailed high on a cross. Their stomachs slit open, crows pecking at their guts and entrails, pulling it and gnawing it down their throat.
(m/n) barely recognized a few of them, one was the one who almost caught him hiding under the bed, one was the one who had jabbed his ribs with the hilt of his sword and the middle one...he didn't recognise. He's even surprised at the fact that the other man survived his stabbing attempt.
The blood pouring down their torso was a glaring red. It seemed fresh.
"I left them alive for you. They deserved it." Daisuke whispered to (m/n). "One who entered your room. One who forced you to jump and the ringleader. I had them hung with their stomach torn apart to feed the crows. You should have seen them begging to be killed."
The (h/c) glanced behind him to see the prince sweetly smiling down at him. "I'll protect you. This serves as a reminder to anyone that dares to harm you. I'll never let you get hurt again."
At that moment, any normal person would feel fear, their instincts screaming at them to run from the menacing uncanny danger that seemed to be the prince. But not him, not (m/n). For what was supposed to be terror was replaced with heat in his pants.
"Your Highness..." (m/n) mumbled. This proof of love Daisuke had bestowed upon him only heightened his sense of security, pushing insanity. "...Thank you." A gentle smile at his lipsa he caressed the hand on his shoulder.
A warmth enveloped his heart as he stared at his assailants, satisfied with their violent outcome.
-
"Urghh- urmm hnnmm Your Highness- mhmm! I haven't- We haven't done it in a while- ahn!" His mouth was cupped shut by the ravenette, Daisuke smirking as he stared down at the struggling (h/c). "Keep quiet, unless you'd like to get caught.
(m/n) nodded shamelessly, his weight shifted onto his good leg, Daisuke holding his waist in place. He was forced to stand up, pushed up a wall behind one of the many buildings in the palace, shielded from many eyes. His wheelchair kicked aside.
The (h/c) whimpered while rubbing their cocks together, both of them had unzipped their pants as (m/n) struggled to masturbate both of their dicks while maintaining balance on his stand.
"Grip it more. Then, clench your fingers- mmn! Thaaaat's it." Daisuke praised the consort, who was mewling into his hand covering his mouth, he bucked his hips more into the (h/c)'s hand, rubbing his tip against (m/n)'s.
(m/n)'s cries were muffled when he came, spurts of semen decorating both their cocks as Daisuke followed, moaning as he rutted up into his husband's hands.
The (h/c) went limp, crashing into Daisuke's chest as he whined for comfort, the prince cooing at him as he cleaned them both up, carrying him into his chambers.
-
"Huff, huff- ahnnn fuckk meee- mnhaa!"
(m/n) cried out when Daisuke came inside him again, his ass clenching around the prince's throbbing cock, his palms and knees digging into the bedsheets as his front crashed onto the bed, losing his composure.
His cast was weighing him down, tiring him more than usual but that didn't seem to stop Daisuke.
"One more time for me, love." He tapped his ass, pushing him onto his side as he pulled the (h/c) by his waist, slapping his crotch onto his ass. "I can't-" He hiccupped, a raw cry tearing from his throat. "I can't cum anymore...I'm too sensitive." He whined helplessly.
"Shh shh don't say that." Daisuke cooed at the (h/c), adjusting his cock, letting his til kiss (m/n)'s entrance. "Of course, you can. You can make me so happy just this once, right?"
(m/n) groggily propped himself on his elbows, whimpering at the pressing tip on his hole. "I'll buy you more jewellery. Have them made custom for you. You can have any gem you desire." The (h/c) moaned again when Daisuke slipped himself into his wet entrance.
It wasn't that he didn't dislike accepting gifts, but the fact that the prince offered like it was some sort of payment made him feel like a whore. And fuck that felt hot.
He melted more into the prince's touch, who was groping his chest, teasily trailing his hand up neck and gripped his throat. "You're practically an expert already, ain't ya'?"
(m/n) mewled, his drool seeping from his lips as he endured the lustful thrusts from the prince. Daisuke smirked, seeing (h/c) strands swishing every time he pounded into the consort as his grip tightened around (m/n)'s neck.
He pushed (m/n)'s good leg up more, bending it as he pushed his cock balls deep inside his husband who screamed at the stuffing of his ass. He knew he had come, watery cum decorating the sheets and his walls squeezing his wet cock.
Daisuke groaned lustfully as he emptied his sperm inside the consort once again as he dropped himself onto (m/n), making sure to avoid his bandaged leg.
The (h/c) was jittery, eyes glossy as he begged for aftercare from the prince who was more than happy to provide to the crying consort.
-
(m/n) admired the teardrop earrings which held the Artemis and Apollo Gem for each side on his ears. His maids behind him were also fawning over his growing collection of jewellery, courtesy of the crown prince.
"Get me my shoes." "Yes, Your Grace."
It had been some time and (m/n) could walk again. His cast removed and he finally returned to the Emerald Palace, sighing in relief. Daisuke sulked, asking if he didn't enjoy his time at the Grand Palace.
"You keep bedding me every night! How am I supposed to sleep?!" "But babe🥹."
That was the gist of their banter.
The prince himself had journeyed outside of the capital for a few days and he had sent a messenger beforehand telling him to prepare for another journey.
Apparently, in commemoration with his leg healing, Daisuke wanted to take (m/n) out of the Palaces for a vacation, more specifically finally using the long-awaited summerhouse. He also mentioned having another surprise for him, now with his recent one, (m/n) isn't sure what to expect the range of his presents. It could be the heart of his enemies or more designer shoes.
(m/n) embarked to the mansion first, accompanied by...a platoon of soldiers, per request of the crown prince. He even vented his frustrations to the emperor, the rare times where he would be in contact with Daisuke's old man. All he replied was with a drawing of a four-leaf clover.
The journey took three days, them staying in cabins and whatnot, he was even accompanied by Daisuke's secretary, Ivan and they bonded together with a deck of playing cards. As soon as he arrived at the estate, he whistled to himself in surprise.
Overall, he was satisfied with the lavish mansion, a huge lawn with floral decor, and a port for small cruising boats on the far side. With rows and rows of servants bowing on the sidelines.
Estate by the lake, fully furnished and a stampede of staff, just like he wanted. (m/n) thought he had to give Daisuke a good sucking that night until the prince's carriage had suddenly arrived, stopping beside his.
"Husband! I missed you!" Daisuke enveloped (m/n) with a bear hug, lifting him and spinning them around. "What a coincidence we arrived at the same time!" The prince gleamed.
"We arrived first, he was just waiting for you at the entrance for the whole day." Daisuke's personal knight deadpanned, not impressed with his prince. "Is that so?" (m/n) smirked, as he pinched the ravenette's cheek.
They spent their time together, (m/n) cruising around the mansion, commenting on the interior decor and Daisuke following behind him like an excited pup. The prince had to retire to a makeshift office with his secretary, private matters that even (m/n) couldn't join and he rolled his eyes and went to the master bedroom for that matter.
It was almost midnight and Daisuke still was in his office until (m/n) decided to put the lake to good use.
He sneaked out to the harbor, soothed his eyes with the calming water and stripped himself bare. He dipped his feet first, testing the temperature before fully submerging himself in the body of water, enjoying the cooling sensation.
(m/n) dived under, swimming through the ripples of water, gently rocking against his limbs as he swam further to the middle. He resurfaced and gasped, taking breaths as he swiped his hair back.
The (h/c) looked to the harbor and noticed someone standing over them, he squinted his eyes and perked up when he noticed it was his husband. "Could've invited me." Daisuke smirked, pushing (m/n)'s clothes aside with his shoe as the consort swam to the port.
"Didn't want to bother you. Seem pretty busy these days." (m/n) huffed, still keeping himself floating in the inky water. Daisuke rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms together, not bother to hide his very obvious erection with the wet naked consort.
"And what if someone else catches you like this? Dearest, I might find myself green with envy." (m/n) grinned to himself, pride surging within him as he offered a hand to the prince. "Then, join me." He purred before teasingly swimming away.
The prince laughed as he took off his own clothes, not hesitating to gracefully dive into the lake. (m/n) looked behind him for the prince that was nowhere to be seen before he felt something pulling at his feet.
He yelled in shock before Daisuke resurfaced, laughing at him while (m/n) smacked his chest for scaring him. They played in the water together, splashing each other, casual swimming and they even held a contest to see who could last underwater the longest.
"Crap, that's unfair! You're trained for this!" (m/n) pulled Daisuke's black hair who was still holding his head underwater for more than four minutes already. The prince gasped for air as he pulled the embarrassed consort close.
"I don't stay in my room all day when I was a teen, Your Grace." He teased his husband while (m/n) mumbled something along the lines of 'Yeah, cuz' I was in someone else's room-' before Daisuke dragged him underwater again.
The water was relatively cool, calm under the luminous glow of the moon, with the exception of the couple laughing to themselves, making small waves until Daisuke trapped the (h/c) in his arms.
"I love you, (m/n)."
Daisuke confessed as he kissed the (h/c), slowly trailing his hand below the water. The consort moaned into his mouth when he felt his ass cupped, digging his fingernails into Daisuke's back.
(m/n) held onto the prince as he embraced Daisuke, letting him lick, bite and even suck all over his body, him returning the favor, mostly on Daisuke's chest.
They returned to the port, wet and with a limp in (m/n)'s step as they readied themselves for another day.
-
There was another reason why Daisuke invited (m/n) to take a vacation at the summerhouse. He revealed that he needed to meet a friend, a contact in the West, and since the summerhouse was at the borders, he figured that it would be a perfect opportunity for them to relax together.
(m/n) first questioned why Daisuke hadn't gone alone, as what he did for all his previous side missions until the prince slid him a letter. The (h/c) recognised the letter, he received a similar one before. It was an invite from one of the famous privileged.
Apparently, Daisuke's contact was famous for his ludicrous events, organised privately for high society which required a partner. Daisuke couldn't go alone, and instead of hiring someone else to be his lover, he opted that the (h/c) could have a little outing.
"It's not that revealing." (m/n) rolled his eyes as he spun around in his outfit, checking himself out in the mirrors. "Dear, look at my pants and tell me otherwise."
The (h/c) threw a shoe at him before they embarked for the party in a black carriage, one without a symbol.
(m/n) was dressed in a two-piece bedlah, his cropped top was a see-through maroon garment that covered only his chest and parts of his arms, pearls and beads decorating the garb. His lower half had a golden waist chain with two long fabrics covering his front and behind that had small gems dangling on his hips. He also donned on a shiny brown mask that curved downward at the front, resembling a hawk, its decor matched his jewellery and arm cuffs all over his figure.
Daisuke wore a dark navy cropped top, only covering his shoulders and arms, draped down to his sides, essentially giving a window to his abs and chest. His jewellery leaned to silver, chains cross his chest and a printed flare pants to style the rest of his lower half. A black and blue masquerade mask tied around his head, complimenting his own set of jewellery.
The venue wasn't far from the borders, it took a couple of hours, half of those time (m/n) spent by groping Daisuke's chest over and over until they reached the mansion. They were ushered inside by servants who had empty masks on into a room with large doors.
Daisuke handed the invite to one of the guards and they were let in and there was a reason why the doors were 4-inches thick. Immediately, the sounds of moaning, squelching, and whipping could be heard throughout the ball room.
It was a refurbished hall, with multitudes of furniture decorating the venue, beds, sofas alike with men and women climbing over each other with similar lavish masks.
The event that Daisuke's contact usually organised was orgies or gangbangs accompanied by drugs and alcohols. (m/n) himself received an invite but he ran out of the hall when lots of people wanted a turn on him.
The (h/c) clutched his pearl as he nudged closer to Daisuke who calmly walked to the middle of the pile, seeing his contact, the only one without a mask.
"Ah! My friend, he has arrived!" A man that seemed to be in his thirties, brown curly hair that reached his shoulders and baby blue eyes with woman cooing over him, one of them on her knees deepthroating his cock. He gave a hand to shake but Daisuke respectfully declined, not risking any diseases.
"Did you receive word from my messenger?" "Of course. A shy one, isn't he?" (m/n) didn't fully grasp the context of what they were conversing but he was surprised Daisuke was speaking his mother tongue, despite the obvious accent.
They continued talking to each other, (m/n) hugging Daisuke's arm as he gazed over someone getting tag-teamed and the abundant of breasts present in the dim room, only lit by the candelabras. Suddenly, Daisuke ushered him elsewhere while the previous man got up from the round bed and headed off elsewhere all in his naked glory.
"What happened?" "He went to retrieve a few things for me. It should take some time, so we ought to lay low until then."
Daisuke was a prince of a kingdom, it would be bad for their reputation if he was to be discovered here, albeit the non-disclosure agreement they had to sign. (m/n) wondered if there were any other royals here, kings or queens even, looking at an old burly man fucking into a lewd girl.
The prince grabbed an unopened bottle of alcohol and pulled (m/n) to sit on a sofa in the far corner. More discreet but still surrounded, nonetheless. "He will take his time, that man." Daisuke scoffed as he popped the bottle open. "You can lay down to relax." The prince patted on the spot next to him as (m/n) sighed and draped himself over Daisuke's lap who began drinking and playing with his hair.
"Did you ever went to one of these?" Daisuke questioned him. "No. Some of my friends invited me but I had the feeling I might run into one of my exes if I ever indulged myself. The last time I entered an orgy, they ripped off my mask so it wasn't exactly the most fun adventure I've had."
The prince hummed as he rubbed (m/n)'s bare thigh between the garbs, warming his hands as he took another swig. "What is this? It's strong but sweet."
The (h/c) plucked the bottle from his hands. "It's native to the West. Really nice brand, but it's forbidden for international export, some beef between the owners." Daisuke took the bottle back and chugged it again. "Fuck, it really melts on the tongue."
(m/n) frowned, seeing Daisuke drinking by himself. "Let me have a taste." The prince took another swig and placed the bottle on the table next to them, beside a lit candle, illuminating the side of Daisuke's face before he leaned down and grabbed (m/n)'s jaw still.
He tilted their heads, knocking their masks slightly together before he pushed (m/n)'s mouth open with his fingers letting the wine flowed down his tongue and into (m/n)'s mouth. The (h/c) choked, squirming in Daisuke's hold as he gulped down the mouth-to-mouth drink.
He coughed as he sat up, wiping his lips. "What the hell-" (m/n) patted his own chest. "You're bold today." Daisuke hummed, grabbing the bottle back. "I'm just in the mood, y'know."
(m/n) frowned, ignoring the lewd moans from behind him as he glanced at Daisuke's pants. "You're not thinking of...doing it here, are you?" The prince pursed his lips. "It wouldn't hurt to have some fun, would it?"
"What if we get caught? What if they see your face?" "They won't. We'll be careful. Everyone's sucking something in this hall." Daisuke grabbed (m/n)'s arm, urging him to sit in his lap as the (h/c) hesitantly climbed over, facing the heated prince.
"I don't know...it just feels uneasy? I'm not sure." (m/n) felt the burn in his stomach, curling in his crotch but he wasn't sure what to make of it. The wine tasted different.
"It's okay, baby. I'm here, aren't I? You're safe with me." Daisuke cooed at him, gently nipping at his bare shoulder, caressing his back. (m/n) grunted as he took the bottle of wine, reading the back of it.
He almost dropped the bottle when he felt Daisuke's erection brushed under him, (m/n) squirming and bucking his hips as the prince pulled him closer, grinding up against him.
"Fuck it." (m/n) downed the bottle, drinking three full gulps as he slammed it on the table, Daisuke cheering at his swig as the (h/c) leaned in to kiss his husband, making out with their tongues.
Their teeth clashed, gums rubbing together while (m/n) was swinging his hips, circling down on Daisuke's clothed cock. "You're so hot. Sexy little thing." The prince purred, his hand inching underneath (m/n)'s skirt as he ripped the (h/c)'s thin underwear.
(m/n) hissed in pain when Daisuke dipped a dry thumb into his hole, rubbing against his walls painfully. He gasped and moaned as the prince's other hands began to grip his ass, pulling at it, stretching his entrance.
He fell forward, his face buried into the crevice of Daisuke's neck who took the wine and dipped it all over his hand, using at as lube as he began to finger the consort.
"You're a bit tighter today than usual. Want my cock or fingers to loosen you up?" Daisuke blew a breath into (m/n)'s ear, two of his fingers stuffing his hole, stretching his rim. "F-Fingers first please." The (h/c) desperately loosen his skirt, pulling at the fabric to release his dripping cock, he was much more sensitive than he normally was.
Was it because they were in public? (m/n) drooled, seeing another man getting his mouth stuffed with two cocks but his attention was stolen by the prince who immediately shoved four fingers in when he noticed (m/n)'s eyes were straying.
"Eyes on me, sweetie. Don't make me mad. I wouldn't want to tear off all your clothes." Daisuke licked a stripe up his neck. "Unless you'd like that."
A shiver ran down the (h/c)'s spine as he unclipped his waist chain, letting the fabric fell into Daisuke's lip. The prince rubbing his digits into (m/n)'s walls, loosening his ass as he rutted his hips up, grinding against his husband.
The ravenette bunched up the fabric, tearing it from the chain and wrapped it around (m/n)'s waist, barely covering his bottom. "If we're going to do it, I prefer if not many are able to see us." "Mmmnn ahn! Are you seriously trying to cover us up? You're the one who started this- ahngg!"
There was a pink flush on Daisuke's cheek, his lips smirking as he wrangled his ass to push him to the brink of pleasure, (m/n) squirting on Daisuke's abs as he almost fell behind, the prince grabbing his arms.
"I'd like to see you cum on my own terms, dearest." "Or what?" (m/n) scoffed. "You'll get jealous?" Daisuke smirked to himself as he kissed the (h/c). "I'll burn down this whole hall if I have to." "That's so fucking hot." (m/n) groaned into his mouth, pressing his wet tongue into Daisuke's.
The (h/c) pushed the prince back, forcing him to sink into the cushion behind him as he leaned into the prince's open chest. (m/n) pressed his tongue flat on his pec, dragging it upwards to the valley in between, watching Daisuke who stared down at him with bated breaths.
His mask was already tilting to the side, it was a bad idea to choose one with a beak. (m/n) kept biting on Daisuke's tits, sinking his teeth, hearing his gasps and moans. He sucked on the pale flesh, admiring the reddening skin as he licked and sucked on his nipple next.
Daisuke bucked his hips up into (m/n)'s bottom as he clumsily pushed his pants down, letting his dick flop out freely, leaking precum. The (h/c) was too busy sucking on his chest, marking his man while Daisuke grabbed his waist, forcing him to sit on his cock.
"Mmnn-" He pulled off of the prince's breast with a pop. "Slowly, slowly..." He whined at Daisuke, sighing as he sank his hole, swallowing his hot dick in one push. (m/n) took his time, throwing his head back in fuzzy pleasure before Daisuke patted his thigh, urging him to move.
The consort took a deep breath before bringing his hips up and slammed himself down onto the prince's lap, yelping as he does so.
He adjusted himself on the sofa, feeling his legs shake as he bounced himself helplessly on the prince's cock. "Up and down, baby." Daisuke kissed his neck, sucking and pulling at the skin making (m/n) squirm and clench around his tip. "Yeah- mmnn! Just like that- anhh!" The prince moaned and licked into his ear as he came inside the consort, shooting ropes of sperm into his hole.
The (h/c) cupped his mouth, resisting the urge to scream as he quickly fucked himself on Daisuke, squeezing around his cock as tears brimmed at the corner of his eyes. "You're doing good." Daisuke cooed at him, rubbing his sides.
"Make a little noise for me, princess." (m/n) gasped as he came on the prince's dick. He had a few hiccups before crying out, Daisuke pinching his chest. "That's it, thaaaat's it." The prince dragged his words, praising the consort as (m/n) cried into his shoulder, whimpering why was he so sensitive at that moment.
He flinched when he felt someone touching him from behind. "Hey, can I have a turn? You have a beautiful man on you, I couldn’t help but be smitten." The man behind him purred, wanting to pull (m/n) before Daisuke swatted his hands away, hugging the (h/c) close to his chest.
"If you want to keep your hands, I suggest you back away." The prince seethed, glaring at him through the masquerade mask before the brunette from earlier came, diffusing the situation. "Hey hey, let's calm down here okay."
He turned to the unknown man. "Apologies but this couple is exclusive, I can have one of my peers entertain you instead." He shooed the stranger away before facing the pair. "Sorry about that. People here don't exactly have manners."
He handed a scroll tied with a felt rope to Daisuke, who took it silently, still holding (m/n) close. "It's all the info you need. I'll be expecting the payment by the day after tomorrow." The prince moved to leave but the brunette stopped him.
"Don't bother, stay here as long as you'd like. We all need to let loose sometimes, y'know." He winked at Daisuke before running off to a girl wearing a kinky BDSM garter. The prince scoffed, examining the scroll before his attention was stolen by the (h/c).
"Princey..." He whined. "I'm still- mnn! I'm still leaking..." (m/n) cried, tears running down his cheeks, his cock still dripping precum, an abnormal amount as Daisuke licked his tears.
"We'll do it as much as you'd like, my love."
The prince recklessly dropped the scroll, letting it roll underneath the sofa as he bent the consort over on the couch, slipping his cock back inside the mewling (h/c).
Time seemed to be a fleeting moment and by the end of it, (m/n) found himself full, his ass leaking, and his stomach painted with semen, a strand connected from his flaccid tip to his stained skin.
His body was marked with teeth indents, some were bleeding, the prince was heaving over him. Daisuke's chest was mostly red, with hickey littering his skin and his pants had been long gone.
It took them five hours to recollect themselves, (m/n) gaining consciousness as he realised Daisuke was still rutting into him mindlessly. He had to slap him sober so they would leave, thankfully there was a section provided to clean up themselves with spare clothes, with payment of course. The two finally left the building with the scroll in hand.
"The wine there was fucking laced! How the hell did you fall into their trap so fast?! That's how people kept coming back!" In a fit of anger, (m/n) scolded the bashful prince who was the one to drink the spiked wine.
"...It hadn't been opened yet..." Daisuke mumbled, a pout on his lips, despite that he had no regrets having sex around others.
Apparently, the supplier of the wine had them custom-brewed, infused with aphrodisiac so people would return to the orgy, a harmful yet successful tactic.
Both of them had returned to their chambers and slept for eight hours and when the (h/c) had woken up, Daisuke was still drooling on his pillow, his body slack in his sleep. (m/n) rolled his eyes and was about to leave the bed to get himself some tidbits but noticed the paper untied on the bedside next to Daisuke.
The reason of why Daisuke had reached out to his 'friend' remained unknown in his mind, curiosity got the better off him as he reached for the scroll and read through its contacts.
It was a long list of people, brokers, clients and at the top of the list were mercenaries with the symbol of a lion. (m/n) hesitated to read the rest of the contents he rolled the paper back up. It was clear that Daisuke was investigating on the motive of the ambush the (h/c) had endured and seeing the remains of those mercenaries, (m/n) knew it was going to be bloody.
Dirty jobs aren't for people like him so (m/n) essentially just minded his own business and let his husband do as he wishes. By the time he had returned to the bedroom, the scroll was nowhere to be seen with Daisuke perching on the bed, happy that he had brought some snacks.
A few more days passed by peacefully and Daisuke finally revealed his surprise. The image of the (h/c)'s family had long appeared on his mind, and he certainly broke down in his mother's arms when his parents and his older brother appeared in the lobby of their mansion.
The prince had arranged an invite for the Dukedom after Daisuke had found out that the reason (m/n) wanted the summerhouse to be located near the borders was so that his family didn't have to travel far to the East Palace to visit him.
(m/n) whined to his parents about how cruel Daisuke had treated him and his brother saw right through his lies, pinching at his cheeks while Daisuke and his father was chatting by the sidelines.
The consort considered this to be one of the most memorable gifts Daisuke had presented to him, waving goodbye to his family after a two-day stay and they decided to spend their last night of their vacation out on the harbor by the lake.
"So, were you able to get all that you needed from your broker friend?" Amidst the glistening waves of the lake, the moonlight was more than enough to reflect light in their eyes, a small picnic with some tidbits in a basket. (m/n) popped a few grapes into his mouth as Daisuke began prepping his self-made sandwich.
"I was. He was more than helpful, more honest after a few bags of gold. But he is a reasonable man." The prince swiped the condiments onto his bread with a butter knife, (m/n) rolling his eyes at his reply. "He conducts orgies, Your Highness. How is that reasonable?" "Everyone's nasty down there one way or another."
A noise of disgust escaped his throat, (m/n) gagging on the thought of going back there again as he stole the sandwich Daisuke made. "Hey, that's mine." The (h/c) took a bite before Daisuke could retrieve it back. "Mediocre at best."
"I'm not your chef, you twat." Laughter could be heard from the couple, both of them eating from the same plate since (m/n) was too lazy to lift a finger and he positioned himself to sit in front of Daisuke, folding his legs as he leaned back into Daisuke's chest, both of them gazing at the moon.
"Do you think it's flat?" "We are not having this conversation."
(m/n) snuggled in further, him holding out his hand to admire his wedding band. "I couldn't believe we are an actual couple now..." He whispered in a hushed voice. The prince looked down to him, his nose nudging against the (h/c)'s cheek.
"We're compatible. I can't imagine myself with any other." Daisuke mumbled, pecking at (m/n)'s cheek. The latter sighed, sinking further into the prince. "...How long do you think we'll last?" The (h/c) inquired curiously.
"When the sun decides to rain fire on us, even then I won't let you go." A chuckle from Daisuke, the consort feeling the rumble from his chest. A heavy confession hung from his heart, a fleeting beat that had the aftertaste of a sweet fruit.
Memories of the prince holding him flashed through his mind. Their adventures, their flashy affairs and their sour harmony in tandem. The (h/c) knew he had fallen for the prince. Once again, he gave up his pride, and it drained his denial. (m/n) fidgeted the end of his shirt as he pulled a loose string, snapping it from his garment.
"I love you."
The prince's eyes seemed to snap wide open, the breeze of the night soothing (m/n)'s growing heat in his cheeks, feeling bashful and flushed. Daisuke kissed his face, peppering them all over as he kissed his lips last.
"I love you as well."
(m/n) buried his face with his hands, shielding his embarrassed expression while the prince was too happy to even notice, showering his husband with affection. Their last night of their long vacation was spent together, holding in each other's arms by the harbor, as the two finally accepted their love for each other.
[END SCENE]
[unedited]
EXTRA CONTENT:
Shortly after their public jerking off with each other...
"Can you move it to the left? That's about right." Daisuke was present with contractors in the greenhouse, after their public rendezvous, the prince decided that they should have a more accessible place to rest.
The workers moved a circular frame, positioning it to Daisuke's desire. It was a foundation for a new furniture. "Yeah, yeah...can you make something of a bed? Or one of those really big cushions you can...rest on. That's definitely the word."
The prince grinned to himself, imagining (m/n) laying on the circular mattress sideways, with petals of roses surrounding the consort. He can't wait to fuck (m/n) on this thing.
It took a moment for him to realise the rest of them were staring at him, unimpressed expressions behind their polite smile. "I'll take my leave now- make sure its STURDY OKAY MANY THANKS!" He ran away as fast as he could, excited to give the news to the consort.
-
A deleted draft, after their argument/confession on the field...
(m/n) was pulled by his hand, Daisuke guiding him, their feet trudging through the green grass. The (h/c)'s face was puffy, wet from crying as he felt a weigh curling in his crotch.
Why is he dressed so fucking handsome...(m/n) gritted his teeth, staring at Daisuke's ass before he stopped in his tracks.
"What's wrong?" The prince looked back, his eyes had bags underneath them, his sclera red from tears. (m/n) bit his bottom lip before effectively jumping on the prince, Daisuke barely managing to catch him in his arms as they fell to the ground.
"LOOK AWAY- LOOK AWAY I TELL YOU!!" The guards immediately faced the other way, red hues painted on their cheeks.
By the time (m/n) was done humping on top of Daisuke, he had soiled his pants, walking off with a relieved sigh as he left the breathless prince who was now rock hard.
"What about me??" "Take care of it yourself."
The prince gave chase, adamant to wrangle the consort who quickly sprinted away, the two laughing and running in the halls of the Emerald Palace.
-
Daisuke training...
"I don't get why I have to come here. It's smelly and for sweaty people-" (m/n)'s whinings were cut off when his eye caught the prince, swinging his swords against two knights in a training arena.
Daisuke was in a tight black shirt, his chest hugged by the fabric and (m/n) thought he should start a clothing line specifically for muscular men because damn some of them need a bra.
He bit his nails, seeing his thighs move as the prince quickly evaded the attack by a knight and jammed the wooden sword into his chest, knocking him down. He defeated the other guard in a breeze, the other soldiers clapping for the prince's victory.
(m/n) let out a quiet, deep humming, quickly taking the stairs down where Daisuke was exiting the arena.
"Oh, (m/n)! You're already here-" Immediately the prince was pulled into a corner, (m/n) dropping on his knees, pulling at his belt and grinding on his foot, begging to suck his dick right then and there.
Daisuke had his eyes popped out for a second before pulling the consort back to his feet. "Just a moment, dearest. Wouldn't want to give them a show." He purred, bringing the consort into one of the barracks, kissing the consort as he pushed him down to his knees.
[Afterthoughts]
Guess who’s the flat earther lmao. I never watched Bridgerton. I should do it one day. Arabic poems are great btw. The extras aren’t fully canon, it’s just sexy scenes I had contemplated on adding. I thought of adding Emperor Aurelius’ son for a scene but I didn’t want to because it would go too deep into the non-existent lore.
When Daisuke was yelling at reader how much he loves him, I resisted the urge to write “(m/n) was gagged.”
When I wrote the dialogue, I don’t intend to fully use formal or old English, never took a course for the language except for in high school and I wanted the fic to be more understandable for the readers cuz let’s face it, just get to the damn point, I don’t need a paragraph to know someone is sleeping in a dark room.
THIS FIC IS SO FUCKING SHIT IM AWARE so be nice to me thanks </3
I intentionally used a mix of modern English/slangs/ and formal ones because I had writer’s block recently so things aren’t going the best for me right now.
There's a fun easter egg around the ending, somewhere on the harbor so if anyone guessed it right, props to u!
HUGE shoutout to @jaythes1mp for helping me rewrite some of the parts, I felt so dumb yet so smarter now. And also HUGE shoutout to @kiiyoooo for reading and helping me correct some of the scenes. They didn’t beta read the whole fic, only one part of it (the emotional ones) and if u noticed the shifting quality stfu pls I cant do this rn tq!/srs im sorry
There was a problem with the formatting (i think i pasted it twice and had to manually remove them) so if there is repeating paragraphs, let me know thanks, ill check it properly tomorrow
Daisuke if (m/n) found his ex at the orgy:
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(m/n) twice a day:
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Taglist:
@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat @m4r13ll @pinxeajin @gyarukitti @syyyy4ever @pato-spoiler-27 @citrusequalsfrogs @animefan106sposts @bensontrechic @partywalker @gaynesspersonified @yanrandom @theorye @jentlesoldier @apotatoishereee @blepp0c @luciusclover @mazunzunne @basketbaal
Only prince daisuke:
@kingcomet
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fantasydreamland · 24 days ago
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Fun Wife
aegon targaryen x fem lannister reader
Summary: (For the sake of the story Aegon never married Helena) You’re betrothed to the new king who is not too pleased about it. He assumes you’ll turn your nose up at the way he behaves and having a wife will just be a nuisance. He quickly discovers how beautiful and fun his new wife is.
Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, loss of virginity, public x, some fluff, spoilers maybe
Word count: 4336
This is the smuttiest story I’ve written so enjoy lol
masterlist
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“I do not wish to marry.” Aegon says firmly.
The small council meeting had dragged on and everyone, especially his mother, had been pushing for him to marry as soon as possible. Amongst themselves they decided on a bride as if he weren’t even there. He was the king and he should be able to choose when and whom he marries. He did not want to marry some Lannister girl he had never met. And he certainly did not want to marry so soon.
“She is an excellent match Aegon. You must marry.” Alicent insists.
“This is the best way to solidify our relationship with the Lannisters.” Another said.
“I am the king.” Aegon said stomping his foot like a child. “If I do not want to marry right now I should not have to.”
“Yes, Aegon. You are the king.” Alicent says in a calm tone. “And that is why you must marry. You need to produce strong heirs as soon as possible.”
Aegon lets out an obnoxiously loud sigh. He knew his mother was right. He would have to marry but at least he could avoid his wife if he wanted to and just visit her chambers occasionally to try for an heir. He loathed the idea of it all.
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A couple weeks later you arrive to kings landing. You were filled with excitement of your wedding, of becoming queen of the seven kingdoms. You had been warned by multiple people of Aegons depravities but it did not phase you. If anything, it made him more intriguing.
Aegon watches from a window waiting for your arrival. He did not want to greet you right away but wanted to see what you looked like. His breath catches when he sees you exit your carriage with your bright blonde hair and beaming smile. He was caught completely off guard. He had obviously hoped you would be attractive, but he never expected you to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
As gorgeous as you were he was still annoyed with concern that you would be uptight and judge him. He did not expect a happy marriage but he could not help but picture the beautiful bright haired children you would make together.
You finally meet at dinner. Aegon could no longer avoid you. He stood from his chair when you entered the room and walked over to greet you.
“Your grace.” You curtsy low. “It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, my king.” You smile brightly at him and hold your hand out to him.
You were even more breathtaking up close. He was surprised by how genuinely happy you seemed to meet him. Your (e/c) eyes sparkled brightly at him making him forget to respond until your eyes darted around awkwardly, your hand lingering in the air.
“Forgive me.” He clears his throat. “The pleasure is all mine, lady Lannister.” He smirks as he kisses your hand and holds eye contact. He swears he could see a flicker of fire behind your eyes.
You give a blushing smile as he lets go of your hand. Everyone begins to sit down to dinner. Alicent sat across from you while your father was beside you, and Aegon sitting on your other side at the head of the table. Alicent made most of the conversation, asking you various questions. Aegon watched you as you talked, seemingly intrigued to learn about you, but he never spoke a word or asked any questions. Alicent found it strange that her usually loud mouthed son was being so quiet.
When supper finishes everyone begins to leave to their chambers for the night.
“Aegon?” Alicent begins, “Why don’t you escort lady Lannister to her chambers.”
“Certainly.” Aegon nodded, the idea exciting him.
You simply smile and take Aegons arm as he leads you down the hall in an oddly comfortable silence, neither of you sure what to say. When you reach the door to your chambers he kisses your hand.
“Goodnight, my betrothed.” Aegon smiles.
“Goodnight, your grace.” You smile back as you curtsy. “I know this was perhaps not how you planned to be wed… but I promise to be a good wife to you, my king.”
Your words touch Aegon and the way your eyes connect you both feel an undeniable spark. He says nothing else but smiles and kisses your cheek before he leaves to his own chambers.
Aegon pleasured himself to the thought of you that night. He never expected to be so infatuated with his new bride to be but you were the definition of perfection. Now he could not wait be wed to you and bed you. The thought of what you looked like under that dress pushes him to the edge as he groans out your name.
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The day of the wedding quickly came and you were both filled with excitement. Aegon smiled ear to ear during the entire ceremony. Once you pledge your love to one another you seal the marriage with a kiss.
The moment your lips touch you instantly feel transported to another world where you are the only two people that exist. The only thing that matters in this moment is you and him. Your eyes connect in an intense gaze once your lips part. The cheer of the crowd snaps you out of your daze before Aegon leads you to the feast.
The feast was fun and lively as everyone enjoyed the food and drink. Aegon drank his fill of wine but still asked for your hand to the dance floor. Your drunken bodies pressed together as you danced, causing your heart to race.
“Your cheeks are so red.” Aegon says teasingly as he brushes your cheek with his fingers.
“Oh, yes, well… likely all the wine.” You blush, causing your cheeks to darken even more. “The wine and… you.” You say lowly.
Aegon smirks and places his fingers on your chin, turning your head to the side.
“I quite like the sight of you looking flushed, my queen.” He whispers against your ear causing goosebumps on your skin.
“My king…” You breathe, trying to remember you were not alone but in the middle of the dance floor.
“Hm?” Aegon hums against your skin and lightly kisses your neck.
His eyes meet yours and he also comes to remember how many eyes were on the both of you.
“I want to go to bed.” You say quietly.
“Oh, are you tired?” He says with a hint of disappointment in his tone.
“No.” You whisper, looking at him with fire in your eyes.
His smirk returns and he takes your hand before leading you out of the feast. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat as he led you down the halls to your shared chambers.
You enter the room filled with nerves as you approach the large canopy bed. Aegon comes up behind you and begins kissing your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He wanted to take his time with you but the wine fueled his desperate desire to have you. He had been with many women but he has never wanted anyone this badly.
He begins unlacing your wedding gown while pressing the occasional kiss to your shoulder. You just stand there, letting him have his way with you. Your breath grows heavy as he gently pulls off your gown and it falls to the floor, leaving you only in your thin shift.
You turn to face Aegon and he slowly scans your figure. His eyes linger at your chest before he meets your eyes, staring at you like you were a glass of the finest wine he was about to drink every last drop of.
Aegon pulls off his wedding clothes until he’s left in just his trousers. He captures your lips again and leads you toward the bed. He moves his lips to your neck as he slowly pulls off your shift, leaving you completely bare for him.
“My king…” You whisper as your fingers lightly pull at the hem of his pants.
“Aegon.” He mumbles against your skin.
“Aegon…” You say shyly as your eyes meet again.
“Not so fast, little one.” He moves your hand off his pants. “I need you to be ready for me first.”
You give him a questioning look as he gently pushes you back onto the bed until you’re laying flat. He climbs on top of you and grinds his covered hardness against your bare core, making you whimper. He kisses down your neck before moving down to your breasts where he takes his time licking, sucking, and rubbing your sensitive nipples as you squirm under him.
“Have you ever… touched yourself?” Aegon asks in a whisper.
You nod, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Good.” Aegon smirks.
He kisses down your stomach and settles between your thighs. You groan with anticipation as he kisses and nips at your inner thighs. He stops to watch your face as his fingers lightly graze over your most sensitive area. You gasp as he continues to make slow circles with his fingers.
“Does that feel good, wife?” He says almost arrogantly.
You could only moan in response and he chuckles. He removes his fingers and brings them to his mouth to taste you. Your entire body lights on fire from the sight. Just as you are about to beg for more his mouth is on you. You gasp even louder as your hands find his hair. You had never felt anything like this. It was nothing compared to your own fingers. He slowly slides one finger inside you and you scrunch your eyes from the pressure.
“Does that hurt, my love?” Aegon asks, kissing your knee.
“No.” You breathe. “Don’t stop.”
He smirks and begins to move his finger in and out slowly, causing you to arch your back. He continues expertly working his tongue on you as he slips in a second finger. You yank harder onto his hair as your breath grows heavier. He groans in response and the vibrations against you bring you to the edge. You let out a long moan as you reach your peak.
Aegon strips off his pants and your eyes widen at his size. Before you have time to overthink he lines himself up at your entrance. He asks if you’re ready before slowly sliding into you. Aegon groans loudly from how tightly you clench around him. It takes all of his strength not to start fucking you hard like a common whore. You are so much more special to him, his wife, his queen, his heart.
You breathe heavily through the pain as Aegon moves slowly in and out of you. As soon as the pain begins to fade you crave more of him. You pull him closer against you and whisper for him to go faster. He speeds up slightly but the movement is still agonizingly slow for what you craved. It was agonizing for him too, to be this gentle with you until you were ready.
“Aegon…” You groan in frustration. “Please… just fuck me.”
Aegon does not hesitate before he begins pounding into you. You could tell how much he had been holding back. Moans fill the room as you both get closer to the edge. You wrap your legs around his hips forcing him deeper into you.
“Gods, you are so fucking tight.” Aegon groans in your ear.
His words spur you on and you dig your nails into his back as your second orgasm begins to creep up on you. Aegons thrusts become sloppy as he reaches his own peak. He did not want to finish before you but the feel of you was too overwhelming.
“My love, I think I’m gonna-“ He pants.
“Me too.” You moan.
Your words trigger his release as he thrusts deeply inside you and moans loudly against your neck. This draws out your own orgasm and you finish in sync as you hold him tightly to you.
He remains inside you and your eyes meet.
“I think I am in love with you, (y/n).” He whispers, brushing your golden hair from your face. He never thought he would say that to anyone.
“I think I am in love with you, Aegon.” You smile widely.
Aegon places a kiss to your nose before rolling off of you. He pulls you in close for a cuddle and wraps his arms around you. You sigh peacefully, but as you begin to doze off you feel something poking against your backside.
“I am not finished with you yet.” Aegon whispers in your ear, creating goosebumps on your skin.
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You wake the next morning as the sunlight peers through the window. You look up to your handsome new husband peacefully asleep and press a kiss to his chest. He stirs in his sleep and you press another kiss to his stomach as an idea crosses your mind. Your clothes still laid discarded on the floor from last night. The only thing covering his now hardening manhood was a thin sheet. You gently pull the sheet down and reveal him in all his glory. You watch his face as you lightly grasp him with your hand. He quietly moans and squirms under your touch but does not wake.
You continue to watch his unconscious reactions as you place a kiss to his tip, then a lick, then a suck. Finally, you take him fully into your mouth and he groans as he finally wakes up. He looks down at you with surprise in his heavy lidded eyes. You smirk up at him as you continue to work your mouth on him. He threads his fingers through your hair and gently pushes your head further down. The gagging sounds you make quickly pushes him to the edge. You swallow his release as his fingers tighten in your hair and he groans your name.
“You are incredible.” Aegon huffs, still panting.
You giggle at him while you take a sip of wine. The sheet now hung low just barely covering him.
“I am not finished with you yet.” You wink and lean forward to kiss his lips.
Aegon cups your cheek and deepens the kiss as you move to straddle him. You grind against him through the sheet between you. You moan against his mouth when you feel that he’s already hard again.
You quickly pull the sheet down and he gasps into your mouth as your fingers wrap tightly around him. You hold intense eye contact as you slowly slide down onto his cock, watching every face and noise he makes.
You move your hips testing out this new position and Aegon groans and reaches up to grab your breasts. You grind faster along him and you both begin to moan louder. He grabs your ass to aide your movements, his fingers hold on so tightly they were sure to leave bruises.
You get closer and closer to the edge before Aegon sits up slightly and starts pounding into you. He relished at the sight of you above him. Your perfect tits bouncing as your beautiful pleasure etched face let out desperate moans for him, he had never seen a more heavenly sight.
He presses his fingers on your most sensitive spot and you cry out as you come undone for him. He fucks you through your orgasm before quickly finding his own.
You collapse onto the bed beside him, both panting heavily. Aegon turns to you with a boyish grin on his face which you could not help but find adorable.
“You are incredible.” He breathes.
“You said that.” You chuckle and brush his snowy hair from his face.
“I meant it.” He leans up and kisses you.
The kiss was meant to be quick but you pull each other closer again as your tongues dance together. Aegon pulls back with a pained expression.
“I wish I could stay here all day with you.” He says looking at you with pure adoration. “Really I do.”
“I know.” You softly kiss his lips. “But the king has important matters to attend to, I understand.”
He presses a final lingering kiss to your lips before leaving bed and getting ready for the day.
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You did not see Aegon for the rest of the day as he attended important matters. By the time he joined you in bed you were fast asleep. He slipped into the sheets quietly before pausing to admire you. The way your hair and milky skin seemed to glow in the moonlight made you look completely ethereal. He watched you as your breath lightly rose and fell. He could not believe how head over heels in love he was in a marriage he had nearly refused.
The next morning Aegon was gone again before you woke. You sigh and get dressed before going out to search for him. You hadn’t had a moment to speak for an entire a day now, and you were also missing him in other ways.
Aegon was alone in the small council room focused on a pile of parchments in front of him. His head shoots up when you knock on the open door and his firm expression quickly softens.
“My love… what are you doing here?” He puts the papers down and stands from his chair.
“I have not seen you since yesterday morning. I simply miss my husband.” You shrug as you walk over to him with a smile.
“I have missed you too wife.” He pulls you in close by the waist and you wrap your arms around his neck.
You press your lips to his and the kiss quickly becomes urgent and wanting. Aegon lifts you up onto the table and kisses you deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth. His hardness pressing against your core makes the need for him unbearable. You begin to pull at the laces of his pants.
“My love wait… we should not do that here.” Aegon murmurs against your lips but makes no attempt to stop you. “The doors are wide open.”
“I don’t care.” You respond in a raspy voice that lights a fire in him.
He kisses you again hard and begins frantically pushing up your skirts. You finish unlacing his ties and release him from his trousers. He wastes no time lining himself up to your entrance and plunges deep inside you causing you to let out a yelp.
“Shh.” Aegon smirks against your neck.
You bite your lip as he quickly pounds into you, legs dangling loosely around his hips. There was no time to ease into things when someone could walk by the open doors at any moment and catch you both in such a state. Although you did not actually want to be caught, the thrill of it made your heart race. You feel your peak coming faster than ever before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Aegon rasps in your ear.
“Gods, Aegon I’m-“ His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm overcoming your senses.
He quickly covers your mouth as you cry out against his hand, still alarmingly loud given the location. Your orgasm triggers his own and he grunts into your neck as he comes deep inside you. You quickly come down from the table and fix yourselves as you’re still catching your breath.
Nearly seconds after Aegon tucks himself back into his pants a member of the small council enters the room. Had they come in only a minute ago you would have been caught.
“Your grace, my queen.” They nod to you both. “I had matters to discuss with you, my king.” He glances to you, a silent way of asking you to leave.
“Yes, of course.” You say as you excuse yourself from the room.
You turn back to Aegon as you head to the door and you realize his hair is now a mess from your activities. He gives you his devilishly handsome smirk and you give a smirk back before leaving the room.
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You tossed and turned, unable to sleep. It was nearing the hour of the wolf and Aegon had still not returned to bed. You huff as you throw on a robe and go off in search of him. He was not in the small council room where he spent most late nights. You were beginning to worry until you heard his laughter echo down the hall. You followed his loud voice to the throne room where you see him sitting leisurely on the iron throne and drinking with some men.
“Ah! My beautiful wife!” He exclaims when he sees you.
The gentlemen mumble “my queen” to your arrival. You simply look at Aegon unimpressed and cross your arms.
“Uh oh gentleman.” Aegon smirks drunkenly to the other men. “It seems my wife is upset with me. You best give us some privacy.”
The men chuckle at Aegons antics before leaving you alone in the room. Aegon looks to you with a smirk still painted across his face, unphased by the stern look on yours.
“Why do you look so serious, my love?” He says teasingly.
“Do you have any idea how late it is?” You walk towards him sitting on the throne, arms still crossed in front of you.
“I am afraid I simply lost track of time, my darling.” Aegon shrugs as he takes another drink of wine.
You scoff at his response.
“Fine.” You shrug back. “I will just return to bed then… alone.”
You turn to leave the room with annoyance burning through your veins. Aegon quickly stands and grabs your hand. He pulls you to him and wraps his arms around your waist so you could not pull away, although you try briefly.
“You shall not return to bed alone, my darling.” Aegon says as he kisses your neck causing goosebumps along your skin.
“You did not seem to care for me a moment ago… while you drank and laughed with your friends.” You tried to hide the desire laced in your angry tone.
“On the contrary.” Aegon pulls back to look at you. “I was telling them all about my beautiful new queen.”
He begins to kiss your neck again and you could not help but melt into his arms.
“My bold queen.” He kisses your chin. “My kind queen.” He kisses your cheek. “My perfect wife.” Finally, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.
You do not hesitate to kiss him back, the desire for him burning within you. He parts your lips and when you think he is about to lead you back to your chambers he swiftly picks you up and leads you over to the iron throne.
“What are you doing?” You ask in a panic as Aegon places you down on the throne and gets on his knees in front of you.
“What does it look like I am doing?” He smirks as he pushes the skirts of your robe and nightgown up to your waist.
“Aegon we cannot-“ The words die on your tongue when his tongue is on you.
He quickly gets annoyed with the crown slipping from his head so he yanks it off and places it on you. He smirks at the sight of you, legs spread in front of him, sitting on the iron throne with his crown sitting upon your head. He places a kiss to your knee before diving back into you.
Your hands bury into his white hair as he expertly licks your bundle of nerves. You try not to make too much noise but soft moans pour from your mouth. He slips his fingers inside you and you cry out too loudly before slapping your hand over your mouth.
Suddenly, a rustling of armour pulls you out of your daze and a knight appears before you. You tap on Aegons shoulder rapidly and he stops his actions and looks to the knight.
“I- Please, forgive me your graces...” The knight stammered as he averted his eyes away from where Aegon still sat on his knees in front of you.
“What are you doing here?” Aegon demands.
“Forgive me, your grace. I heard a scream and came to investigate.” The knight responds, his eyes still on the ground awkwardly.
“Well, that is understandable.” Aegons tone softens. “However, in the future if you hear screams of that nature you can assume that is just the queen.” He say arrogantly.
You playfully slap Aegon on the shoulder.
“Yes, your grace... I will not make that mistake again. Forgive me.” The man bows and rushes out of the room still keeping his eyes to the floor.
“Well that was mortifying.” You say as you go to stand, your heart still racing.
Aegon shrugs and firmly holds your hips in place. “Please excuse the minor interruption, my queen.”
He places a quick kiss to your lips before dipping his head back down again. It takes you no time to come undone as he eats you like a man starved and pumps his fingers in and out of you.
“Oh… gods!” You do not bother to hide your moans this time as you reach your peak.
Aegon does not cease his actions until you push him away from overstimulation. He looks at you with his classic boyish grin while his face glistens from your essence. You lean forward and capture his lips again, tasting yourself on his tongue. When you pull back Aegon cups your cheek and looks into your eyes deeply.
“You are the most perfect wife I could have imagined.” He places a kiss to your lips. “A fun wife.” He smirks.
You smile at him and place a kiss to his forehead. He moves to stand before lifting you up and carrying you all the way back to your chambers. You spend the entire night making love. Your heart felt so full with hope of a fun future with your new husband.
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softfem-dom · 1 month ago
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wedding ring
origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader
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a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.
wc : 3k
NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE™ BEHAVIOUR sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader
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synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.
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If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.
When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.
What was so special about you two, you may ask? You were married and were old enough to be his parents.
It was absolutely not his fault. You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.
You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.
He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.
,,
Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.
You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.
And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.
Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.
And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed —happy to help a cause—.
What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.
The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.
He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.
You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only —possesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.
It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.
After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and —ironically enough— left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.
You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.
Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.
"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.
Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"
As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front —melting him—.
And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.
"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.
Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused —and locked up in his dirty fantasies— that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.
"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christ—"
His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue —damn big hands the Canadian had— and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.
"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.
You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting —as if he wanted someone's hand between them—. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.
"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man —letting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."
Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughn— you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"
His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit —saliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.
You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.
"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-oww—"
Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.
"watch your damn mouth, mouth"
"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with huge—"
His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.
"shut it, bub"
"hmn-nhgh"
"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.
"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"
Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants —and the wet spot.
"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face —as if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"
Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.
"I- aughn- I—" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back —forcing him to behave—. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"
"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."
"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"
That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.
Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.
"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."
Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."
"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."
It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.
You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes —watching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight alone—.
"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"
You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm —slowly going down to his hand—. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.
Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.
"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"
"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"
After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly —almost sensually— slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.
It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.
Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes. Or maybe you won't, who knows.
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lxkeee · 9 months ago
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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART SEVEN
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: Swearing and Adam.
Notes: shit is about to go down.
PART ONE | PART SIX | PART EIGHT | NAVIGATION
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“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” [Y/n] added, her eyes glaring down on Adam, her power and strength can be felt through the air and they can tell that she is absolutely furious.
“Oh shit.” Adam muttered underneath his breath. His boss' boss is here.
Adam nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, “Heyyy there [Y/n]... I didn't expect you to be hereee or rather, I didn't expect to see you today... Don't you have work...?” he says nervously, clearly not expecting the news would reach the Seven Heavenly Virtues this soon and [Y/n]'s eyes narrowed even more at him, her wings fluttering behind her back—puffed up and angry.
“Enough Adam, you've done enough pain and destruction here. Take the exorcists and your ass back hOME!” She sneered, her eyes looking at Adam with annoyance, “You and Sera will be held accountable for your actions and for your disobedience and if you don't want a severe punishment then I suggest you go home quietly and quickly. Do you understand?” she snapped, her voice filled with anger and authority. Reminding them who they're dealing with.
Adam avoided her gaze and eventually nodded, “I understood...” he muttered, opening a portal back to heaven with a snap of his fingers, “Exorcists! Fall back and return.” Adam ordered and flew past [Y/n], the exorcists following behind him.
The sinners just looked at the scene in awe, an angel ordering Adam to stop whatever the fuck he was doing and the man just complied without questions.
Lucifer's eyes never left her form, he never stopped looking at her in fear that the moment he blinks she will disappear once more. Like a dust in the wind.
[Y/n] sighed, her angelic form calming down once Adam and the exorcists left, the portal closing. She turned back to look down on the sinners. Her heart ached when her eyes finally landed on her husband. Her mind telling her to imagine it was Xavier but how can she? When Lucifer was missing Xavier's [e/c] eyes? That is not her son, that is Lucifer, her husband, ex-husband?? She doesn't know the status of their marriage and she's in too much in pain to care.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her fast beating heart, she can feel her body is weakening even more. She barely got any rest, she's also wounded and her healing powers took most of her energy. She just hoped she had enough to last to return back home and back to her son.
She slowly flies down to where the sinners are, to where Lucifer is.
She landed in front of them gracefully, well, a little wobbly.
The sinners and Lucifer looked at her with hesitation, nervous whether she was a new enemy or an ally.
“Greetings, I am Raphael from the Seven Heavenly Virtues.” She greeted, giving them a small bow, “On behalf of heaven and the seven heavenly virtues, we apologized for Sera's, Adam's, and the exorcists' behavior. This cleansing wasn't approved by the others and was done without the other's notice. We will make sure that they will be held accountable for their actions and disobedience. We never intended for sinners to suffer like this.” she says, her voice quivering before kneeling in front of them.
This is so embarrassing. [Y/n] thought to herself.
Their eyes widened in surprise to see an angel, a seraphim angel prostrate herself, her head on the ground as she asked for their forgiveness.
They were also surprised to know that this cleansing wasn't a decision made by the entirety of heaven but just a few people.
Charlie waved her hands, trying to get the woman to stop kneeling, “Um... Please raise your head...” Charlie says nervously.
Lucifer was speechless, how could he not? His first wife that he didn't see for so many millennia is here. His eyes caught sight of a golden wedding ring on her ring finger—the very wedding ring he slipped into her finger when they got married, he could never forget it. She still wore it after all these years, after all the things he has done to her and their family. She waited for him...
[Y/n] raises her head, her eyes tired and... Lucifer doesn't remember her eyes to be this... Sad. His heart broke into pieces. He's done this, he caused her so much pain and it changed her. Those aren't the eyes of the [Y/n] he fell in love with, [Y/n]'s eyes were so bright and hopeful before and now... It doesn't even look like it can see herself living tomorrow. It doesn't even look like she has gotten enough sleep judging by the heavy bags underneath her eyes and the dark circles around her eyes.
[Y/n] avoided Lucifer's gaze, she felt so small and weak underneath his eyes. Even after all these years he still had this much effect on her.
[Y/n] tried to focus on whatever the girl said, her ears were slightly ringing and her eyes were slightly blurring. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before slowly standing up, wobbling slightly.
Everyone noticed it, something is definitely wrong with her and it made them worry. They can notice how pale she looked and she seems to wince slightly whenever she moves.
“Are... Are you okay...?” Charlie asked worriedly, helping her up and [Y/n] smiled, though it never reached her eyes. The girl looked just exactly like Lucifer, this must be his daughter then?
“I'm just a little tired, don't worry about me.” She says weakly, patting the girl's head.
“I think I would be leaving now, we'll make sure to punish both Adam and Sera for their actions and we'll try to help hell find a better way to deal with its growing population.” She says, gently parting away from the girl's hold. Her body felt heavy and so incredibly exhausted. This is bad, she needs to get home soon.
She stumbled slightly, Lucifer's eyes widened and his body moved without thinking  and caught her effortlessly, her head pressed against his chest, [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her eyes starting to prick, no don't cry, don't cry... He felt so warm and so soft, she missed this. She weakly tries to push him away. She can still smell his signature perfume of vanilla and roses from his suit. The scent calmed her down slightly.
“Lucifer... Please don't... Please don't hold me like this... Please don't hold me like you still care...” she pleaded weakly, trying to push him away. Her arms on his chest, weakly pushing him away but the man wouldn't budge.
These two have history together... The others thought as they looked at the two angelic beings.
Lucifer's heart aches even more but refusing to let go of her and make her fall into the floor, he can tell she's incredibly exhausted by how much she's no longer trying or having the energy to stand up for herself.
“No [Y/n]... I made that mistake before and I promised not to lose you again...” he says, his voice cracking with emotions, slightly choking on his words. [Y/n]'s eyes widened at his words, her heart aching, hurting, she wants to believe his words, but the damage is not so easy to fix. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She nuzzled her head against his chest, her eyes finally rolling back as she passed out into his arms. Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. Despite all of that, Lucifer's arms are as warm and comforting as she remembers.
Lucifer's gaze softened, he gently shifted [Y/n]'s limp body so he's now carrying her bridal style. Making sure he's not causing her even more pain.
His eyes returned back to the sinners and her daughter, they looked at him with evident confusion in their eyes. He sighs, “She's... My first wife... First ex-wife.. I don't know...” he answered pathetically to the unspoken question in the air, even he himself doesn't know what his status with her is. They never really divorced each other.
Angel Dust whistled, “Quite a dilemma you got there toots.” he snickered and Lucifer glared at him before sighing, he himself agreed to that statement, “I know...” he sighs.
“I'll just leave her somewhere safe to rest and I'll come back to help fix and tidy up this place.” Lucifer says, summoning a portal behind him and quickly stepping in with [Y/n] in his arms. The others didn't have time to protest as the portal closed before they could.
Lucifer carried her effortlessly in his arms, walking towards his bedroom—it is currently the cleanest as the other rooms were dusty from being unused.
He gently laid her down to rest on his bed, making sure she's not lying down on her hair. He was about to tuck her in when he noticed something golden seeped into her white dress, just by her waist.
His eyes widened, that's blood. Angelic blood to be specific.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
She's bleeding, what the actual fuck happened to her?
He thought to himself, debating whether to rip her dress or undress her so he could treat her wound.
“Oh Satan. I shouldn't overthink this, she's in desperate need of help.” Lucifer muttered underneath his breath, hands shaking. Why wouldn't he? She's finally back in his arms and now she's wounded and bleeding and passed out to exhaustion? He's behind worried!
Think Lucifer, think.
He thought to himself before finally getting an idea. He gently wakes her up with a small nudge, causing the girl fo groan and open her eyes.
Pain, sharp pain on her side is what [Y/n] felt first when she woke up. She could see a familiar mop of light blond hair. Disoriented, her eyes blurry,  and head aching, she just groaned, “Xavier...?” she calls out, thinking it was her son.
“I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm just going to undress you and treat your wound real quick. Can I do that?” he murmured, asking for her consent. [Y/n] just nodded and groaned before passing out again.
Lucifer sighs in relief, snapping his fingers together to remove her dress and changed her into something comfortable and appropriate. A light pink satin pajamas. He lifted up her shirt and Lucifer had to cover his mouth.
So much concentrated negative energy is present on her wound, a wound that is located at the left side of her waist.
Lucifer swallows the lump of nothing in his throat, he sits on the empty spot of his bed. He'll worry later, he needs to heal her as fast as he can. Placing his hand above her wound, hovering slightly. A golden aura radiates from the palm of his hand.
No wonder she's so exhausted, it's taking so long to heal this wound. He thought, exerting more energy into healing her. His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained his concentration, making sure his power flows directly into his hand.
Slowly and surely, her wound began to close in. Lucifer could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the concentrated negative energy making the healing process much more harder.
No wonder she was so exhausted, she must've tried healing herself before coming here. He thought to himself.
With a gasped, the wound finally closed and healed itself. It felt like his life was sucked out of him after healing her.
He sighs, his eyes softening as his gaze landed on her sleeping form. She no longer had that pained expression on her face after healing her and he's glad. He's glad to be able to at least help her and not cause her pain for once. He gently lifts her hand and pressed a chaste kiss at her knuckle before bringing it back down again to her side.
He tucks her underneath the blanket, making sure she's comfortable.
He left her side once more, this time, promising that he'll be back. He just needed to help his daughter. He'll be back before she wakes up.
“Luci...? Please don't leave me again...” she whispers in her sleep, snuggling into his warm blanket. Lucifer's eyes watered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.
“I'll be back before you know it, I'll see you soon, [Y/n].” he whispers before teleporting away in specks of red and golden dust.
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Meanwhile, in heaven.
“YOU LEFT MY MOTHER BEHIND?!” Xavier growled, pissed. He glares at Adam, the first man. Annoyed that the man left his mother with his father, THE MAN WHO LEFT HER FOR ANOTHER WOMAN!
“Look, your mom was clearly pissed off and I don't want to face her wrath. I can tell that that woman is holding so much anger inside her and just waiting to blow up.” Adam says nonchalantly, a sigh escaping his lips, shrugging.
Xavier wanted to rip his own hair in frustration. He is beyond worried, he just found out that his mother would be taking care whatever bullshit is happening in hell and she's been gone for hours now! Adam and the exorcists' arrived back in heaven three hours ago and there is still no sign of his mother.
He's worried, he knows his mother has just gotten out of work from the mortal realm and went straight down to hell to fix whatever damage Adam and the exorcists' did.
“Fuck this, I'm going down there and look for her.” Xavier says with a sigh, annoyed at Adam for being good for nothing.
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TAGLIST I:
@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby
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iamred-iamyellow · 3 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Gangsters Wife
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♥ masterlist | request rules
♥ pairing: mafiaboss!carlos sainz x fem!wife!reader
♥ synopsis: things start to change for you and your marriage-of-convenience husband after you stitch up his wounds
♥ one-shot - as always none of the pictures are mine <3
♥ warnings: swearing and vague descriptions of smut - p in v (wrap it before you tap it) !!!
♥ a/n: i wrote on my vacation lol. i’m a little nervous to post this since it’s uncharted writing territory for me but i hope you enjoy reading it <3
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You sat on the black satin sheets of your bed, waiting for your husband to come back from business. You knew you should probably be asleep; that he wouldn’t want you up worrying for him, but here you were wide awake. 
It wasn’t like the two of you married for love, anyway. It was much more out of convenience. His job was… interesting, but you weren’t complaining about the luxury that you now lived in due to the arrangement. 
Your breath hitched as you heard the door unlock, assuming it was Carlos. He made his way towards the bedroom and immediately locked eyes with you. His hair was slicked to the side and he had a couple of cuts on his face. He was wearing a red shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, black dress pants, some black shoes, and an expensive watch. 
“Go to bed,” he demanded, removing the ticking object from his wrist and laying it down in a drawer with the rest of his collection. 
“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, rustling in the bed sheets. 
“I’m alright if that’s what you’re wondering,” he swiped his thumb over the blood on his bottom lip. “Get some rest.” 
You slowly stood up and strolled over to him.  Your gaze dropped down to the ripped fabric on his side, presumably from a fight. 
“Were you stabbed?” you asked in a whisper. 
“Lightly.”
“Lightly? What does lightly mean?”
He began unbuttoning his shirt, though it didn’t take long before it was off of him. The moonlight from a small open window illuminated his body, his muscles were strained, covered in sweat, and there was a wound flooded with blood on his abdomen. 
“It’s not that deep,” he murmured.
“Literally or figuratively? Because it looks like the knife went in pretty far.” You softly grazed his skin with the light touch of your fingertips. 
You walked over to your nightstand and pulled out a small stitch kit. 
“Sit down,” you commanded him, nodding towards the edge of the bed. 
“I’m fine. I can do this on my own.” 
“I said sit. down.” 
He took a deep, agitated sigh and did as you told him. You dampened a rag in the bathroom and returned to clean the blood off his wound.
You threaded the needle and pierced it through his skin, beginning the first stitch. 
“Are you sure you’re qualified for this?” he asked. 
You nodded, “I wouldn’t have married you without knowing how to do this.” 
He hummed and your left hand went to his waist to hold him still. He could feel the coldness of the silver wedding ring he gave you only a few months ago. 
You finished pulling the last part of the thread and cut the excess off. 
“There,” you said, pressing your palm gently against his abs.
He pulled you onto his lap and his hands firmly gripped your thighs. You made a soft sound and ground down onto his belt. 
“Tomorrow, amor.” he stopped you and whispered. “Let’s go to bed.” 
-
You woke up first at 7. You had rolled over to find your husband awake, messaging someone on his phone.
“Go back to sleep cariño,” he mumbled, running one of his hands over your hair.
You grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, slowly making your way up his arm.
“Amor,” he warned.
“What? You said tomorrow… it’s tomorrow.”
The next thing you knew he had you pinned down by your neck. His phone rang on the nightstand and he used his free hand to pick it up, still thrusting into you as he did so.
“Leave us alone,” he said and hung up instantly.
Leave. Us. Alone.
You woke up again at 9, this time alone in your bed. You wandered into the kitchen to see your husband making breakfast.
“Carlitos?” you ask, a faint smile teasing your lips. “Where’s the chef?” 
“I sent him home.”
“You’ve never cooked for me before,” you took a seat on the barstool at the counter. 
“I’ve never cooked for anyone before,” he admitted.
He set some pancakes on a plate and handed it to you.
You hummed, “No syrup?”
He shrugged “I don’t think we have any. I usually eat mine just the dough.”
It was odd having a conversation like this with Carlos. The two of you weren’t used to making small talk.
“Uhm, how do you feel? Are any of your cuts infected?” you asked.
“No, I feel fine,” he said putting cooking supplies away as you ate. “The stitching you did is good but i’ll probably still get my doctor to look at it.”
“Yeah that’s a good idea,” you replied, picking at your food as his phone rang.
He flipped it open to answer a call from an unknown number. From the muffled spanish voice on the other end you assumed it was from Fernando. 
“Sí, I’ll be there soon.” Carlos said and hung up the phone. 
“I’ll be back,” he told you, walking out the front door without a goodbye.
Your eyes caught the abundance of bodyguards that entered the room to block the exits and entrances. You sighed and slouched, tapping your nails on the marble counter. Great. Just when things were starting to get good. 
958 notes · View notes
ceoofglytchell · 2 months ago
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Daughter Of The Sea
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Summary: Crushed by the burdens weighing on his shoulders, Aegon takes you, his wife, on a flight on Sunfire to a special place, where he can forget the raging war and the burdens of the crown for at least a short time and at the same time start an attempt to get closer to you.
Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Tully!Wife!Reader 
Word count: 4108 words
Warnings: fluff, obvious pining, brief angst (communication is hard), mentions of past smut, Aegon having dirty thoughts about you, very brief hint of a breeding kink, brief making out, no mention of Y/N 
Notes: I am a little stressed at the moment so this will be the only fic coming from me this week, but I will most certainly be back with another one on Saturday 💛. As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language.
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"No, no, fat old Lord Tully can either raise my banners or see his burn," Aegon said firmly, scanning the members of his Small Council. It was only early in the morning and he was already having to hold one of those miserable council meetings that just always tired him out. He would rather drink wine in his chambers or go out into the city to the Street of Silk, but he was no longer allowed to do that either. He was the King, after all.
"Lord Tully has another proposal, Your Grace. One that doesn't involve any bloodshed or fighting. A marriage alliance. His daughter is not yet married, but she will be soon if the pretender realizes that too. In this way, with this alliance, we could unite a large part of the Riverlands under our banner and expand our army with their men."
A small murmur went around the table and he could immediately see his mother looking at Criston with her dark brown eyes and they shared a long, knowing look. It was decided without him even having the chance to say anything about it and give his own opinion.
Once again, a decision was made over his head and he was forced to do something he did not want - just like the crown on his head, which was never meant for him.
He was going to get married and he didn't even know you.
You were different than he had expected.
A little more than a month had passed since the wedding, which had been held in small circles in front of a High Septon and your families in the great Sept in King's Landing. You were a pretty little thing. A little younger than him, loving and innocent. You had actually blushed when he had pressed a small, fleeting kiss on your lips to seal the marriage, which had then given him the motivation not to get drunk to the point of insensibility during the banquet so that he would not have to endure your company.
Instead, the opposite had been the case, for he had quickly grown to enjoy talking to you, hearing your soft voice and seeing the warm expression in your eyes. You were a little shy and you did not have much in common, but as the evening progressed, as the moment drew closer and closer when you would have to retire to your marital chambers to consummate the marriage, Aegon had noticed how you were picking at your cuticles and how you kept raising your hand to your face to bite your nails out of nervousness.
It was a habit he himself had, so he knew exactly how you must be feeling.
At that very moment, the king had felt something for you for the first time. He had realized that not only had he been forced into this sudden marriage, but that you had also suffered from this decision, and that you knew him as little as he knew you. Here, you were both the victims.
Aegon had been gentle when he had you lying beneath him in his bed and taking your innocence. He had tried as best he could to make it as comfortable as possible for you, but your little whimpers and the big tears that had rolled down your cheeks as he did his duty broke his heart and he had vowed to be good for you. You were now his wife, his queen, and soon probably the mother of his child, if his seed had taken root in your womb that one time, which is why he wanted to be a better man for you.
He had to get to know you first and maybe at some point your heart would open up to him and you could love each other as if this had not just been a political alliance but a marriage of love from the start.
"Nothing."
This very word clouded his every thought as he wandered through the cold, bare corridors of the Red Keep in search of something. He was the king, but at the same time he was completely powerless, at least when it came to his own life, because as long as he can remember everyone has always decided for him or over him and that was no different now. The only person who had decided absolutely nothing for him or forced him to do anything so far was you.
That was probably why he had instinctively walked to your chambers without even looking where his feet were taking him, and now found himself in front of the closed doors.
He could hear a faint noise from inside and as he took a step closer to the wooden doors he realized that you were humming. He did not recognize the melody nor could he hear you clearly, but for some reason your soft voice alone was soothing him immensely, as if you were a distant light in a world that consisted only of darkness. He only had to approach you and reach for your light.
He carefully opened the door and stepped into your chambers, which he had only briefly visited once before, when you had just furnished them after you had come to King's Landing. Back then, the interior had been sparse, but now every inch reminded him of you. It was comfortably furnished with plenty of seating, cushions and plants. The tapestries that hung on the walls were not about any sexual practices, unlike his, but yours were embroidered with small fish, aquatic plants and it was all in the colors of your house - red and blue - to give you a feeling of home so that you could properly settle in. On the shelves were piles of books, more embroidery and small pictures that you had painted on parchment.
You sat on an armchair in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth slightly as you gently stroked the cat that had curled up on your lap and you hummed a calm tune to it. He didn't remember the name of the small, orange kitten, but he knew it was a parting gift from your younger brother Oscar, so you wouldn't feel lonely in your new surroundings.
Aegon didn't want you to be lonely - or unhappy. Quite the opposite, he wanted to see you happy and above all he wanted you to be happy with him, as you would probably be together for the rest of your lives unless - gods forbid - a tragedy happened and you were taken away from him, which he would never allow. You were his wife and he would be damned if he couldn't protect you. If he wanted to be strong for anyone, it would be for you.
Approaching footsteps made you look up from your little friend in your lap and you froze when you saw your Lord Husband standing in your doorway and your eyes widened as he was the last person you expected to come visit you. Your marriage had been quite cold up until now, except for the consummation on your wedding night, but that was it. After that, you hadn't even kissed or touched each other in any way, except for the occasional kiss on the cheek before supper.
However, you would be lying if you said you didn't long to be close to him. You did not want to live a life without love, but to get it you also did not want to break the promise you had to make to him at the altar.
"Husband? What are you doing here?"
He wanted to approach you, but something inside him wouldn't let him move and he remained rooted to the spot at the door, which he at least closed behind him so that you could talk to each other alone.
What was he doing here? That was a good question. One that he himself didn't have an answer to. He wanted to get closer to you, but he didn't want to force his company on you either. However, he knew of a way that would allow him to be close to you, to show you a different side of him, while you would probably enjoy it too. He might even see you smile, but not the kind, respectful smile you always had on your lips, no, a real, loving one that was only meant for his eyes. He had not heard your laughter yet either.
"I wanted to see you." You blinked in confusion and scratched the cat a little more behind the ear, as if it would take away your nervousness itself, which wasn't the case, as your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would burst out of your chest. He wanted to see you? Why? He had never voluntarily come to you to spend time with you, but you suspected there was a first time for everything.
"Why?" A rather unpleasant thought entered your head and for a moment you feared that he had only come to do his duty and then leave again, like the first time. You longed to be close to him, but you still wanted to get to know him a little better and learn to love him before you let him into your bed again. Hopefully he saw it the same way. "Have you come here to do our duty?"
The king immediately shook his head so that his short, white curls fell into his face, but that didn't really bother him. What bothered him, however, was that you thought he had only come here for that reason, but at the same time he could understand why. In your eyes there could be no other reason why he should come, since after a month of marriage you still barely knew each other.
"No, I... I wanted to ask you if you already have plans for today?"
The cat jumped off your lap and disappeared into your bedchamber next door, leaving you all alone with him, and you immediately felt a little more tense again. You wanted his attention, but it happened so suddenly that you were at a loss for words for a moment.
“No, not really. Do you have anything special in mind, husband?”
“I wanted to ask if you would like to ride with me? Just the two of us?”
You didn't know if it was his hopeful look or your longing and desire for freedom that made you accept his offer, but you did. The only thing you hadn't seen coming was that he wasn't leading you to the royal stables, but to a carriage that would take you to the dragon pit.
"I do not think I am made for the skies, Aegon," you said carefully as you heard Sunfire's gentle chants and the golden dragon slowly moved out of the darkness of the pit into the light to greet its rider. His mount was nothing short of beautiful. The dragon shone in a variety of colors when the light shone on it, and the dull pink of its wings reminded you of the many flowers that often grew on the shores of the small lakes in the Riverlands. Despite everything, the thought of flying on the back of such a winged beast filled you with fear and awe.
"No, small fish like you belong in the sea and that is why I am taking you there." For a moment you just stared at him, unable to believe that the first time he voluntarily spent time with you, he was granting two of your dearest wishes - to get closer to your husband and to see the sea again. Of course, there was a good view from the highest towers of the Red Keep, but just seeing it was not the same as feeling it, and you didn't want to disturb the fishermen at the harbor at their work just because you felt the need to stroll barefoot across a sandy beach.
The young king held out a gloved hand to you and tried to smile invitingly at you while he gently stroked the shiny scales of his mount with the other. He hadn't been out riding for a while and was already looking forward to flying through the air with you and seeing how you would feel about being able to see the world from above. On Sunfire's back he had always felt completely free, free from the annoying duties, free from the weight of the crown, free from the burdens of his name, free from everything, and you might feel the same. At least he hoped so.
You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you walked closer to the beast, which seemed to be watching you curiously from the side.
Aegon helped you climb onto the saddle and then sat behind you to assure you that you would not fall off during the flight and that he would be a widower a month after the wedding. The warmth of your body so close to his, the sweet scent of your hair and the way your body clung to him drove him to the brink of madness in the first second, which was why he quickly gave Sunfire the command to take to the skies so that he would no longer have to think about you while you were so close to each other.
A small cry left your lips as the dragon, along with you and Aegon, rose into the sky above King's Landing and you saw the city from above for the first time. Instinctively, you pressed yourself closer to your husband's chest and grabbed his arm, which was wrapped securely around your waist, your fingers pressing so tightly into the fabric of his tunic that it was a wonder he hadn't objected to the touch.
Sunfire rose higher and higher until it almost reached the clouds, and Aegon couldn't help but grin like a fool when he felt you reaching for him in search of protection and safety, holding on so tightly as if you were afraid you might slip off the saddle and fall into the depths at any second.
As if he would ever let that happen.
"Are we nearly there?" you called over the wind that whipped against your ears and messed up your hair, while your narrowed gaze was fixed in fascination on the landscape below you.
"Soon! Be patient a little longer, wife." Aegon answered close to your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms as his voice made you realize just how close you had been and how much trust you had just put in him. You didn't even know where he was taking you except that it would have something to do with the sea.
After not too long of flying, you saw the outlines of a small group of islands appear in the distance, although they seemed to be uninhabited. The dragon suddenly began to fly a little lower and when your husband gave no other orders to contradict this, you realized that this must be the place he wanted to take you to in order to spend time with you - an island in the middle of the sea.
The island you landed on was small and had nothing more than a few rocks, some grass and a few plants and a small beach where the waves gently crashed. The sun was high in the sky and the sea was completely calm, which was a huge relief for Aegon, as he knew from experience that in the event of a storm, most of the small island would be swallowed up by the waves.
You landed on the ground again with wobbly legs and you could immediately smell the salt in the air and feel the sun burning on your skin. A smile formed on your lips as you stared into the horizon and saw the endless blue stretching out before you, which for some reason warmed your heart and made you feel more free again.
Riverrun, your home where you grew up, was not directly at the sea, but the castle had been surrounded by river water on all sides and you loved to ride to the coast with your younger brother to spend the day there, which made you miss the sea and nature even more. When you and Aegon had children together, you swore that they would not only have a dragon egg laid in the crib, as you knew was the Targaryen tradition, but you would also show them places like these and maybe even your childhood home at some point.
As Aegon dismounted behind you and Sunfire rose back into the air to circle over the island or just fly around a bit, and he saw your broad smile, he could feel a lump forming in his throat. He had always thought you were beautiful, but only now did he realize that you were much more than that. You had a beauty that he had never known before, and he was a fool for staying away from you for so long.
"Have you known this place for a long time?" You asked him, turning back to him to look into his eyes, which appeared a light purple tone in the blazing sun that reminded you of lavender.
"I come here occasionally. It is quite relaxing and simply... beautiful."
"Peaceful. It is peaceful," you responded then, whereupon Sunfire made a noise that reminded you of your cat. It sounded almost like an agreement - if a dragon could understand humans at all. He seemed to understand his rider well enough, even if he barely spoke High Valyrian.
"Yes, that too," Aegon gently patted Sunfire on the flank, causing the dragon to straighten up, flap its wings and take to the skies again, flying circles over the island group as they stood on the small beach and looked at each other.
"What do you do when you are here?" You asked him, lightly playing with your wedding ring on your ring finger, as it was a better distraction than biting your nails.
"Laying around and doing nothing, mostly," he felt a little bad telling you that, as it did not sound particularly like kingly behavior, but it was the truth and he did not want to deny you that. After all, he was doing this entire trip with you to get to know you better.
You nodded your head, an idea coming to you as you heard the sound of the waves slowly hitting the sandy beach and you could smell the salt that was hitting your skin. However, you didn't just want to smell it, you wanted to feel it too. "I will go swimming, I think."
Aegon blinked, as this was certainly not what he had expected you to do. He had expected you to lie down and talk, but not that he would suddenly see you starting to undo the laces of your dress and reveal your thin white shift and parts of your supple skin that he would love to caress and kiss if you let him one day.
"Be careful, please," the king asked gently, as he was not about to come with you and sink into the salty sea water and feel as free as a fish himself, but hopefully you would. He wished that you would feel as free and carefree as you did before marrying him.
"I will be," your blue dress fell onto the ground, while you walked into the waves in your white undergarment until you were surrounded by water up to your shoulders, while he sat down on the ground and quietly watched you from afar.
You reminded him of the old tales about nymphs who were said to have seduced men at lakes with their beauty and then dragged them into the depths never to be seen again, but he also knew that you were different. You were definitely tempting him right now- not that you knew-  but you would also never harm him. A small part of him wanted to join you, to see if he had managed to make you feel happiness again, but his courage failed him and instead he merely kept on watching you.
You swam through the cool water for some time, and each and every minute you could feel his eyes following your every move, while your husband's dragon flew around in the sky above you the whole time. Two dragons were watching you, and you had hoped one would join you, but he did not. Of course not.
Aegon had lost himself in daydreams the longer he watched you swim. He dreamed of a life where he had met you under different circumstances and he had married you because he wanted to and not because he was forced to. It would have been love, not obligation.
Lost in these sudden daydreams, he did not notice you rising from the waves again, the now soaked shift you were wearing being practically see-through now, the thin fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin.
When his gaze focused again and he saw you like this, his amethyst colored eyes widened immediately and you stole his breath away by not even doing anything. You were heavenly.
You dropped into the sand next to him and lay down, your eyes fixed on the blue sky and your hair spread out beneath your head like a halo. He couldn't take his eyes off you anymore and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over every inch of your body. Under the thin material of your shift he could see your hardened nipples and little pearly drops of water running down inside your cleavage, making him look at your breasts for a moment longer than necessary, which caused a lump to form in his throat and to feel something stir deep inside him.
Gods, now he would have to control himself.
"You could have joined me," you said suddenly out of nowhere and turned your head so that you could look at your husband's handsome face, which was catching the rays of sunlight in such a way that you thought he was glowing.
"I did not want to force my company on you."
You quickly rolled onto your side, giving him an even better glimpse of your cleavage and he had to actively bite the inside of his cheek to avoid making any noise that would ruin the beauty of this moment and that would force him to explain himself.
"Aegon, I enjoy your company. I just wish you would give me more of it. You are my husband and I barely know you."
The disappointment in your voice broke his heart, but at the same time he cursed himself for not being able to think of anything other than ripping off the last piece of clothing that covered your body and repeat your wedding night, but this time properly and not just giving yourself to him because it was your duty as his queen to give him heirs. But he restrained himself.
"My little wife enjoys having me around, huh?"
"Come on, you are not that bad. I am sure you are more bearable than Aemond." You giggled and the sound made his heart beat faster and a warmth spread through him that he had not felt before with a woman yet.
"You would not have survived marriage to him, little fish. He is too... fierce."
"Do you not know what they say? Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. Perhaps I could have softened him."
Aegon laughed and shook his head firmly, as he was a thousand percent sure that even your kind nature and sweet disposition could not have changed his little brother's stoic demeanor, even if you both shared a common love of books. "No, my love. Even you could not have done that."
"And what of you? Do you think I am able to warm your heart?"
The king did not have to think about his answer for a second and he replied to you without thinking of any possible consequences: "You already have."
You didn't know if he had closed the gap or if it was you, but suddenly your lips were on his and you lost yourself in the way he held you tightly and deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency you had longed for.
Maybe you would not have to wait forever for love to blossom.
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552 notes · View notes
punkshort · 4 months ago
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Roommates | 8. forever
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Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Tommy and Maria get married.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, idiots in love, alcohol and food consumption, sexual tension, flirting, a wedding!
WC: 7.6K
Series Masterlist
"Oh, goddamnit," you muttered under your breath, pausing in your rush across the hot parking lot to tug your dress out from underneath your heel. You crouched down for a moment to examine the dress to make sure it wasn't damaged before you stood back up, this time bunching all the extra material in your fist before trotting as quickly as you could to the entrance of the restaurant.
"Slow down, you ain't missin' anythin', they haven't even sat down yet," Joel said, startling you from his post on a bench next to an ashtray.
"Oh, hey," you said breathlessly, then looked him up and down. "Were you smoking?"
He shook his head and stood up, dusting off his grey dress pants in the process. "Just gettin' some air. Tryin' to cut back."
"Good for you," you said, then nodded towards the door. "Ready? I need to get out of this heat."
"After you."
You thought for sure you would be in for Maria's wrath when you hit traffic and ended up being almost fifteen minutes late for the rehearsal dinner, but mercifully, Joel was right. The group was in the reserved banquet room but hardly anyone had sat down yet. Instead, people were mingling and laughing in small groups as the waitstaff filled up waters and placed open bottles of wine across the tables.
As you scanned around and looked for a seat, your eyes landed on someone familiar and a wide smile stretched across your face.
"Mrs. Miller!"
Joel and Tommy's mother beamed when she heard your voice and quickly abandoned the people she was talking to in favor of pulling you into a hug.
"Oh, honey, how are you?"
"Good! Late, but good," you laughed when she released you from her death grip. She kept her hands firmly planted on your shoulders and gave you a once over.
"Love that dress, my goodness. Doesn't she look beautiful in this dress, Joel?" she asked mischievously. You felt your cheeks warm and you looked down at the floor while Joel just rolled his eyes.
"Yes, Mama," he replied flatly.
"You'll sit with us, right, dear?" she asked.
"Of course," you said with a nod.
"Good, I want you to meet the man I've been seeing," she replied before wrapping her thin fingers around your arm to lead you to her table, which, of course, was shared with Tommy and Maria.
James seemed nice and he got along well with both Joel and Tommy, from what you could tell. Before he retired, he worked in construction, just like their own father before he passed away, and he seemed absolutely smitten with their mom. His arm was around the back of her chair or holding her hand the entire dinner and you could tell Mrs. Miller was adoring every second of it.
"Are you still seeing that lawyer, dear?" she asked right when dessert was placed in front of you. You felt your chest tighten as you stared down at your tiramisu and you focused on the skills you learned in therapy whenever you felt this type of feeling crop up. Take a few deep breaths, collect the data, put things in perspective. Just as you were about to answer, you felt Joel's hand on your knee and he cleared his throat.
"No, Mama. Didn't work out."
He must have given her a look when your gaze was still fixed on your plate because there was an awkward silence before she spoke again.
"No matter. Plenty of fish in the sea. Maybe you'll meet someone tomorrow at the wedding."
You forced yourself to meet her eye and smiled. "Yeah, maybe," you replied weakly. Joel's fingers tensed around your knee for half a second before he slowly pulled his hand away to pick up his fork. When she began to talk softly to James, you took the opportunity to shoot Joel a grateful smile, which he returned with a wink.
"Thank you," you whispered. "I could have handled it but... thank you."
"Welcome," he replied just as quietly. "And I know you coulda, but you don't gotta do everythin' by yourself."
Joel began to eat his dessert while you sat there, immobilized. For some reason, hearing him say those words knocked you on your ass for a moment. You were always the type to take on too much and rarely ask for help, another trait that contributed to your anxiety. The only thing that pulled you out of it was Tommy's voice aimed in your general direction. He was giving instructions to the wedding venue from the restaurant so you all knew where to go after dinner to do one quick walkthrough before the big day, so you nodded along and finally picked up your own fork.
"You wanna follow my truck?" Joel asked once dinner disbanded and everyone slowly filtered into the parking lot. You shook your head and pulled your keys out of your purse.
"No, I think I know where it is. It's not far from the hotel."
He nodded and glanced over his shoulder, checking on his mother. "You get settled in okay?"
You gave him a curious look. "In the hotel? Yeah."
The wedding wasn't too far away from home but most of the wedding party elected to stay in the hotel where the reception was being held so they wouldn't have to worry about getting a ride after drinking.
He nodded again and swiped his palm over his mouth. "Which room?"
You laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder, making him grin and stumble a bit over the asphalt. "What?" he asked innocently, but he didn't sell it. You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop smiling as you unlocked your car and opened your door, tossing your purse onto the passenger seat. As you were about to bunch up your dress and get into the car, Joel cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, indicating he was still waiting for an answer.
"409," you said with a sigh. His tongue clicked against his teeth and he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"418. Right across the hall."
"What a coincidence." Propping one arm on your hip and the other on the roof of your car, you tapped your fingers on the hard plastic, waiting for him to say something else. His eyes drifted up and down your body before meeting your gaze once again, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. People streamed past you to their cars, heels clicking on the blacktop and soft chuckles floating in the air, but you kept your eyes pinned on each other, silently daring the other to say something more.
Against all odds, or maybe it was always inevitable, your relationship managed to mostly repair itself over the past few weeks. It was nice to have Joel back in your life again in any capacity he was willing to offer, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for him. The morning you woke up on Tommy and Maria's couch with Joel's arms wrapped around you, holding you against his broad chest with his face buried in your hair felt like a literal wake up call. As you laid there listening to his deep, steady breaths, you tried to think back to a time when you fell asleep in his arms without sex preceding it, but you came up empty.
It felt really fucking nice, so you had closed your eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible. You felt like yourself again. You spent months in therapy wondering where that feeling went when all along the answer was right there.
"See you at the country club," he finally said before tearing himself away and forcing his feet to move in the direction of his truck.
"Yep," you said softly, watching him longingly as he made his way through the cars until he disappeared from view. You took a deep breath and looked around the parking lot when your gaze unexpectedly met the deep brown eyes of Mrs. Miller, watching you from the passenger seat of James's SUV.
You felt something happen in that moment. Something unspoken passed between you through the glass and you had never felt more seen. Woman to woman, she held your gaze and you swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing your expression was betraying you by that point, but what could you do?
James pulled out of the parking spot and you blinked, snapping yourself out of your stupor. When the car passed, you could see the knowing look in her eye, one that told you you weren't fooling anyone, and then they were gone.
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The event coordinator, Michelle, was a tiny little thing who also happened to be very bossy. She probably did at least one wedding a weekend the entire summer for god knows how many years, so she knew her shit, but considering the entire wedding party had just come from dinner with copious amounts of alcohol, her patience was wearing thin. She was barking orders at the first bridesmaid and groomsman at the front of the line while the four of you stood in the back snickering to yourselves.
"Goddamn, she ain't messin' around," Tommy said quietly with a grin.
"A woman after Maria's heart," you replied over your shoulder.
"I've never felt more calm in my life," Maria chuckled softly. "There's no way this isn't going off without a hitch."
On the actual day, it would just be you and Joel at the end of the line, but Tommy and Maria wanted to observe during the rehearsal.
Michelle was making her way down the rows of bridesmaids and groomsmen, instructing each set how to stand, where their hands should be, and what their cue was to start walking.
"Slow!" she barked after a pair began walking. You saw the bridesmaid's shoulders flinch and you had to hide your grin by biting your lip and looking down at your feet.
When she got to you and Joel, you straightened up. Suddenly it felt like you were back in high school and the vice principal was about to chew you out for skipping class.
"Closer together, please," she told you, waving her perfectly manicured, blood red fingertips at the two of you. Immediately, you stepped to the side and apparently so did Joel because you bumped into each other.
"Okay, not that close," she scolded. You had to hold yourself back from kicking a foot at Maria when you heard her snickering.
Michelle took you by the shoulders and placed you exactly where she wanted, then did the same to Joel, leaving just a few inches between you. You could feel his fingers impatiently twitching at his side and you got the feeling Michelle made him nervous, too.
"Okay, crook your elbow, like this," she told him, yanking his arm up and bending it before she flattened his palm against his stomach. "Great. Don't move. Maid of honor, loop your arm through, place your fingers here, hold your bouquet at your bellybutton. Both of you, straighten your spines and begin a slow walk once they make it to the first set of chairs. Any questions?"
You both quickly shook your heads and you looped your arm through Joel's, just as she instructed, and pretended to hold a bouquet at your waist with your other hand.
When you saw your cue, you both began to walk, praying you were going slowly enough. You heard her voice begin talking to Tommy and Maria, asking if they had any questions or if anything was missed, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Fuck, she's scary."
You giggled and glanced up at him. He was staring straight ahead but he had a little amused smirk tugging across his face and you could see that damn dimple creasing his cheek. You tried not to think about how close you were to him, how long it had been since that night on the couch, or how comfortable it felt to touch him again, and instead focused on where you were supposed to stand once you got to the altar.
Joel dropped his arm and you went your separate ways, taking your places at the front of the bridal party, and waited for the next instructions. Tommy and Maria came down the aisle talking with Michelle and motioning towards the chairs while you all waited. You let your gaze drift over to the men and you caught Joel already looking your way. You gave him a little smile and you watched him swallow before taking a deep breath, dragging his eyes away from you.
Michelle's commanding voice cut through the air and you snapped your head back in her direction. She was explaining the bullet points of the ceremony to everybody while she pushed Tommy and Maria up on the altar between you and Joel.
"Next, the officiant will say you may kiss the bride, you two will kiss-"
Tommy took that moment to wrap his arm around Maria's waist and bend her backwards before planting a wet, sloppy kiss on her lips, causing the entire wedding party to break into fits of whooping and laughter. Michelle clapped her hands sharply and the noise instantly ceased. Tommy picked Maria back up, who was pressing her palms against her cheeks with a huge smile, and he shrugged.
"Sorry, thought we were rehearsin'."
She cleared her throat and raised a thin eyebrow at him before she continued, explaining the music would start and Tommy was to lead Maria down the aisle, which he did without goofing around.
"You two," she said, motioning towards you and Joel. You both stepped forward and stood where Tommy and Maria were just standing. "Same as before, hold onto his arm, keep your bouquet at your bellybutton, and don't begin walking until the bride and groom walk down the entire aisle, got it?"
You both nodded stiffly and, once Tommy and Maria reached the end, you started to walk. Michelle began to instruct the next couple and Joel picked up the pace a little once he knew she wasn't looking.
"You're gonna get us in trouble," you teased.
"Wouldn't be the first time."
You gasped and gave him a little hip check and then you heard Michelle calling after you to stop fooling around.
Joel chuckled as you felt your face flush with an embarrassing smile. A few months prior, a comment like that might have sent you spiraling into a pit of self despair just for simply being reminded of the camping trip, but that day you managed to let it roll off your shoulders.
You joined Tommy and Maria and watched as the rest of the bridal party practiced leaving the altar. Joel casually stretched his arm behind you, leaning on a railing so he could say something to Tommy behind you and Maria, but when they finished up and Tommy began talking with his groomsmen, Joel kept his arm on the railing. The fabric from his button down was brushing ever so slightly against the skin of your back, exposed by your dress. Your jaw was tight from the effort it took to not react when his thumb skimmed over your spine, sending tingles across your skin.
"Did I tell you this dress looks nice on you?"
His voice was warm and deep against your ear and it took everything you had not to lean back into his shoulder, it was so hypnotizing.
"Your mom kind of did that for you," you reminded him quietly, keeping your eyes on the rest of the wedding party as they began to cluster around Tommy and Maria, laughing at some story Tommy was telling them about his tux fitting.
"Well, it does. This's your color," he said lowly and you could practically feel his eyes dragging over your soft curves being hugged by the delicate material.
"Thank you," you replied a little breathier than you would have liked. You tilted your chin to risk a glance at him, finding yourself immediately getting lost in his eyes. You searched his face, trying to read him, trying to figure out what he was thinking but you kept getting hung up on all the little details about him that you loved. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the patchiness in his beard, the little scar across the bridge of his nose.
Fuck, he was perfect. How did you ever let yourself take it for granted?
"What're you thinkin' 'bout?" he asked softly. Apparently he had been doing the same thing to you: trying to read your expression, see inside your head.
You swallowed and gave your head a little shake.
"How fucking stupid I was."
His eyebrows twitched up in surprise, his lips parted and you were certain he was about to say or ask something else when Tommy stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled so loud, the whole wedding party groaned and covered their ears.
"C'mon, let's all have one more drink back in our room, place is fuckin' huge," he announced, causing a ripple of laughter amongst the small group.
And just like that, the moment was gone.
Maria and another bridesmaid hooked their arms through yours, pulling you away from Joel and through the venue towards the parking lot, laughing and babbling suggestions for their hair the following day. You glanced once over your shoulder and caught his eye, clocking the tortured look he gave you. Even from a distance you could see the longing, the curiosity to learn what you meant, and the absolute frustration at having the opportunity ripped away.
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Joel tapped lightly on your door the next morning but figured out pretty quickly he was too late. You had already left with the other bridesmaids and Maria to get ready at the country club, leaving Tommy and the groomsmen to get ready in the honeymoon suite at the hotel.
He tried to get you alone for just five fucking minutes the night before but the group was too small and it was impossible to tear you away without being obvious. He could tell you wanted to talk, too. He saw it in the way he caught your eye more than once in that measly little hour spent in Tommy's hotel room. Then he got caught in a painful conversation with another groomsman about golf and suddenly, you were nowhere to be found.
He excused himself and hurried back to his room, hoping to catch up with you, but it was no use. He hovered around your door, fingers carding anxiously through his hair, wondering if he should knock, debating over and over in his mind whether or not invading your space would scare you off until he heard an elevator chime and the doors slide open and he slipped into his room in a panic.
He should have just fucking knocked.
The next time he would see you would be at the ceremony. He wouldn't be able to talk to you til the reception, well after pictures and dinner and speeches were done.
It was going to be a very long day.
You up? We got breakfast here, get your ass going
Joel rolled his eyes as he continued to gather his things after his shower, wishing more than anything that you had just texted him instead of Tommy.
Be there in 10
He draped his tux over his shoulder, two fingers hooked through the hanger, and carried a small bag of toiletries in his other hand as he shuffled out the door, stealing one last glance at your room as he went.
He rode the elevator up to the top floor and stepped out, already hearing the men laughing and glasses clinking with the steady thumping of a deep bass line through the walls. Knowing he would have to be loud for them to hear, he made a fist and pounded on the wood, rattling the door in its frame. It swung open and Nick, the groomsman who monopolized his time last night talking about fucking golf, stood on the other side.
"Joel, mornin'. Come on in, got some catchin' up to do. We're already two drinks deep." Nick stepped aside with a friendly smile and allowed Joel to enter.
"Two drinks? Shit, might wanna slow down, gonna be a long fuckin' day at that rate."
Nick laughed and let the heavy door close, then patted him on the shoulder as he headed over to the little kitchen area. "We all put our shit in the spare room. Go ahead and I'll get you somethin' to drink. Got some food here, too."
"Alright," Joel replied, his eyes drifting around the living room as he walked towards the bedrooms. Tommy caught his eye and raised both arms in the air.
"I'm gettin' married!" he shouted excitedly. Joel grinned and kept walking.
He would have to be patient. As much as he couldn't get you off his mind, he had to be present for his brother. This was going to be one of the happiest days of his life and Joel would be damned if he messed that up for him.
Nick slid a glass of champagne in Joel's hand after he emerged from the spare room and he quirked an eyebrow.
"Pacin' ourselves," Nick explained with a shrug.
Joel nodded and took a sip, the flute looking comically small in his grip, before setting it down and forcing himself to join in the festivities. And he was doing a pretty good job at pushing you from his mind for once until a few hours later. All the men had gotten dressed and a hairdresser Maria hired was going around fixing loose pieces of hair on everyone when Tommy's phone pinged. He picked it up and a huge smile spread across his face.
"It's Maria."
He turned the screen around to show a picture she took. It was of the room where the girls were getting ready, a candid shot of bridesmaids in the background getting their makeup done or sipping on champagne. The main focus of the picture was Maria's left hand extended in front of her, her engagement ring sparkling in the light, but Joel hardly noticed the diamond when you were in the corner of the shot talking to another bridesmaid with a dazzling smile that always made him weak in the knees. You looked so fucking beautiful and you didn't even have your makeup done yet.
He wasn't the only one who noticed you, unfortunately.
"Hey, what's the deal with Maria's maid of honor?" Nick asked Tommy. "She's pretty and seems like fun."
If Joel had even a moment to think, he might have caught the way Tommy immediately looked in his direction, conflicted and unsure what to say. But it didn't matter because Joel set Nick straight instead.
"She's unavailable."
Nick swiveled to look at Joel. "Oh, damn. Figured as much."
Joel nodded and cleared his throat, trying to avoid the very obvious look his brother was giving him, and took a long sip of whiskey.
Once Nick wandered away, Tommy instantly sidled up to Joel and he knew he was in for it.
"Unavailable?" he repeated under his breath. "Got somethin' you wanna share?"
Joel shrugged, trying to look casual but he knew Tommy saw right through him. "It's the truth. She ain't interested in seein' anyone."
"Hm," Tommy said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, loving the way his brother was squirming under his questioning. "How'd you find that out?"
"She told me."
"Told you."
"Yep."
"And under what circumstances did she... tell you?"
Joel frowned and finally dragged his gaze to meet Tommy's. "We're just friends now."
"Didn't exactly answer my question."
Joel scoffed. "Don't you got shit to worry 'bout, like vows or somethin'?"
Tommy shook his head. "Nah, got that all locked down. Would much rather hear 'bout your friend."
He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Ain't nothin' to tell, I promise. Nothin's goin' on."
"Well, weddings are romantic. Drinkin'... dancin'... beautiful venue... dim lights. Might stir up some old feelin's."
Joel nodded and looked at his watch with a sigh. "Limo'll be here soon."
Tommy bit his cheek, wishing Joel would open up a bit more, but decided not to push it.
"Oughta wrangle everyone up. Almost show time."
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"They're here!" a bridesmaid squealed when she saw the limo pull up to the front doors and the men slowly piling out, one by one.
"Well, guess he didn't get cold feet," Maria joked next to you as she fumbled with her earrings, but judging by the way her fingers shook, she was nervous.
You stood up to fuss with her hair, making sure the flowers that were carefully weaved in were still firmly in place.
"You look absolutely stunning," you told her warmly with a smile through the mirror. She took a deep breath and finally dropped her hands in her lap.
"Thank you. For everything. I know you got your own shit going on -"
"Nuh-uh, none of that. Today's not about me. It's about you and Tommy and I'm delighted you chose me to stand next to you today."
She smiled and reached behind her to squeeze your hand, which was curled around her shoulder. Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded. Just one quick, definitive nod signaling the topic was closed, then stood up and brushed her hands over her dress.
"Well, let's go do this," she said, her voice wavering just a bit. The rest of the girls heard and cheered excitedly before scurrying around to check final touches on their makeup before filing out the door, where Michelle stood waiting.
"Ladies, the groomsmen just got in position and the groom is heading to the altar now. Maria, your father is waiting for you in the office. We'll hide you in there in case there's any late arrivals that might sneak a peek."
Once you all filed down to the foyer, you hung back to give Maria one last hug before she was whisked away into a small office where her father stood waiting with misty eyes.
When the door closed behind her, you gripped your pink and purple bouquet in one hand and gathered up the skirt of your peachy dress in the other and lightly jogged to catch up with the rest of the bridal party. When you turned the corner, everyone was finding their partner and whispering excitedly amongst themselves while Michelle walked around, making small adjustments to posture and checking everyone's teeth.
Joel turned around when he heard your heels clicking on the tile floor and couldn't stop his smile from spreading when he laid eyes on you.
"Sorry, just wanted to give her a quick hug," you said to him quietly as you took your place by his side. You were busy fixing your dress and batting pieces of hair out of your face so you didn't notice the way he was gazing down at you, temporarily spellbound.
"No problem," he finally managed to say, then caught Michelle making her way towards him so he quickly jut out his elbow for you to loop your hand through. After Michelle adjusted the placement of your bouquet and moved on, you finally glanced over, taking him in for the first time. He looked so fucking good, it was criminal. All the groomsmen were wearing the same tux, and all of them hand white button downs open at the collar with no tie, but Joel looked the best, by far.
Your mouth opened to tell him so, but at the last second you chickened out.
"Did you guys have a good morning?" you asked instead.
His eyes roamed leisurely over your face and the longer he took to answer, the faster your heart raced under his scrutiny.
"Yeah, it was alright," he finally said. Somewhere in the back of your mind you heard music begin to play and the first pair of the bridal party began to walk. "Wanted to catch you before you left this mornin' but you must've got an early start."
"Oh?"
He nodded slowly, eyes still trailing over you, admiring how beautiful you looked. He knew he was being obvious but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Did you need something?" you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. You knew you should have been paying attention, that you would miss your cue if you didn't, but you couldn't look away from his heated gaze.
"No, just..." he trailed off and took a deep breath, eyes momentarily fluttering closed before he reopened them. "You look really pretty."
Blood rushed to your cheeks and you smiled.
"T-thank you, you-"
"Best man, maid of honor, let's go!" Michelle whispered angrily, snapping you both out of your daze. Forcing a smile on your faces, you waited for your cue and began to walk up the aisle.
Aside from Maria, you two were the last to enter. The altar looked stunning. Not a single flower was out of place. The white rose petals the flower girl had scattered were evenly distributed along the deep red carpet that was laid over the grass to mark your way. You passed by rows and rows of friends and family, their faces lit up with excitement while the photographers bounced around in your peripheral vision, snapping pictures as you went.
When you reached the end of the aisle, Joel dropped your arm and you stepped apart, each taking your rightful place, just as you practiced.
The music changed and the doors opened, finally revealing Maria and her father. You glanced over at Tommy so you could see his reaction but your gaze locked with Joel, instead. His face softened and he shot you a secretive wink before dragging his attention to the bride.
The ceremony was beautiful. The sun was shining but it wasn't too hot. Both of them remembered the vows they wrote, bringing out the occasional laugh or tear from the guests. It made your heart swell to see your best friend so unbelievably happy. And when Tommy dipped Maria backwards for a dramatic first kiss, even Michelle cracked a smile from her place in the back.
After the ceremony, the wedding party was whisked away to take pictures while the guests enjoyed a cocktail hour back at the hotel ballroom. If you weren't in the pictures, you spent most of your time with the rest of the bridesmaids and occasionally stealing glances in Joel's direction when he wasn't looking. Shit, you hadn't even drank anything since you had a mimosa earlier that morning and you still couldn't keep your mind off him.
It didn't help matters when, at one point, the photographer asked for a picture of just you and Joel. Under the warmth from the sun, he had began to sweat a little. You could see it from the way the exposed patch of chest glistened and when you got closer to pose for the picture, his natural scent mixed with the hotel soap he must have used that morning filled your nostrils, making it difficult to focus.
"You got your speech all ready?" he asked once the photographer moved on.
"I think so. You?"
He nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."
"We should probably do a couple shots first, loosen up," you joked, nervously twisting your hands together in front of you.
His face lit up and he unbuttoned his jacket. "Here," he said, handing you a small flask with his name engraved on it. "Gift from Tommy."
"Nice. All I got was this necklace," you said sarcastically with a laugh and a point to your neck before unscrewing the flask and taking a sip. The whiskey burned on the way down and you felt the warmth bloom in your stomach, your muscles instantly relaxing.
"Thank you," you told him, handing him the flask. His fingers brushed against yours briefly, sending sparks down your spine, and you quickly tugged your hand back, averting your gaze. "Oh, looks like your mom's up next. Might wanna head over."
He sighed and readjusted his jacket after pocketing the flask. "Duty calls, I reckon."
You nodded and pursed your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. Why were you acting so weird? It was just Joel. But as you watched him stroll across the perfectly manicured lawn, you knew why.
After dinner and all the festivities were over, you were going to find the courage to finally tell him how you felt.
And you couldn't be more nervous.
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It felt like dinner took forever. Michelle drilled into your head that your speeches would come after dinner and before the cake cutting, so naturally the entire time you were eating, you were a nervous wreck. Fortunately you were too nervous to even drink anything else past the small sip you had from Joel's flask, your stomach twisting in knots the longer it took for each table to get served. Tommy and Maria disappeared after they ate to greet each table and be back in their seats by the time dinner was finished, so you sat picking at your food with your heart hammering in your chest, scrolling the notes app on your phone, reviewing your speech.
"Nervous?"
You jumped at the sound of Joel's voice, who had somehow slid over to take Maria's chair without you noticing.
"That obvious?"
He shrugged and leaned back, surveying the ballroom.
"Your foot's tappin' so fast it's shakin' the damn table."
You giggled and dropped your face into your hands with a groan. He chuckled and took a sip from his glass of champagne, then paused when his eyes landed on an older woman at a nearby table looking in your direction.
"Who's that sittin' next to Maria's folks?"
You popped your head up and looked, then your face broke out with a wide grin. "That's my mom," you told him without taking your eyes off her, giving her a little wave. Joel looked back and forth between the two of you.
"You look alike, shoulda guessed."
"You think?" you asked, then your smile slipped when your mom pointed in Joel's direction and gave you a face before fanning herself with her open hand. You clenched your teeth and slashed your fingers in front of your throat, trying to tell her to knock it off, but she just laughed.
"Pretend you didn't see that."
"See what?" he replied innocently before giving your mom a charming smile and wave.
"Joel!" you exclaimed, smacking him in the leg. "Stop flirting with my mother!"
He threw his head back and laughed at that, his shoulders bobbing up and down and his hand clutching his stomach and just seeing him so happy and carefree made you smile and laugh, as well. Once he regained his composure he straightened up in his chair, his cheeks tinted pink and his eyes bright as he looked at you.
"Don't worry, baby, don't wanna make you jealous."
Your jaw dropped in shock and your brow furrowed but your heart fluttered excitedly in your chest at the term baby coming from his lips again. Before you even had a chance to formulate a response, he cleared his throat. "I'm just kiddin'. Tryin' to take your mind off the speech. Did it work?"
Did it work? This man had you spinning around in circles and he didn't even see it.
"Yes," you mumbled, mind still reeling. Baby, baby, baby.
"Good, 'cause we're up," he said, his eyes drifting over your shoulder, spotting the newlyweds heading your way. He stood and vacated the chair so Maria could sit back down.
You took a deep, shaky breath when the DJ cut the music and made the announcement that the speeches were to begin, and the whole ballroom fell silent, turning in their chairs to get a better look at the long table where you sat up front.
Joel went first, which initially you were relieved, but then about thirty seconds into his speech you realized you wish you could have just gone and gotten it over with because you could hardly focus on anything he was even saying. You faintly remembered him talking about growing up with Tommy and telling some embarrassing story that made everybody laugh but then ended up getting the guests teary eyed when he turned it around at the end, using the story as a sweet example of how Joel always looked out for him and he was now passing that torch onto Maria.
After a polite round of applause, Joel sat down and all eyes turned to you. The DJ told everybody your name, announcing you were the maid of honor, before walking over to hand you the microphone. You cleared your throat before standing on shaky legs and forcing a nervous smile for the room.
"Good evening," you began, then repeated your name. "I have not only the pleasure of being Maria's maid of honor, but also her best friend."
You stole a glance in her direction and you felt your nerves begin to subside when you saw the look in her eye and the warm smile stretched across her face.
With a deep breath, you confidently launched into your speech. You began by telling the guests how you met, how you bonded over one particularly painful meeting at work and afterwards got sushi together for lunch. Ordering the same dish by happenstance cemented your relationship and from then on you saw each other through countless breakups, illnesses, birthdays and even some vacations. After telling the room a silly story about a road trip the two of you took one year with no destination or goal in mind other than to have fun and live in the moment with the promise to stay close forever, you paused and looked down at Maria next to you.
"And then she met Tommy," you said, eyes drifting in his direction. "I knew from the day she came home and told me about him that he was different."
Tommy smiled and wrapped an arm around Maria's shoulders.
"I don't think I've ever seen two people more perfect for one another," you continued, turning your attention back to the room. "At the center of everything, they're best friends. They accept each other, faults and all." Tears began to well up in your eyes, trying not to draw comparisons to your own life as you pushed through. "And that's how I knew early on we would end up here today."
You looked back over at the newlyweds, Maria leaning into Tommy's shoulder, pure happiness radiating from them both as they gazed at one another.
Then you locked eyes with Joel and your throat went dry.
He was looking at you, hanging on your every word, and the expression on his face told you he must have been thinking the same thing as you. Unable to tear yourself away from the emotion behind his eyes, you continued your speech for the room, but it felt like you were talking directly to him.
"When two people love each other fiercely, when they're willing to do whatever it takes to make things work, when they learn to open their hearts and make sacrifices for the sake of that other person, their partner, their love... I believe that is what makes a relationship last." You dragged your eyes away from Joel and looked at Tommy and Maria once again. "And you've both proven time and time again you're more than capable of doing that for one another."
Maria swiped a tear from the corner of her eye and you picked up your glass, watching as the rest of the room did the same.
"I'd like to wrap up with this quote I found online, so I can't take credit," you said with a ripple of soft laughter echoing through the ballroom. "'Love is a friendship that has caught fire. So may your love burn bright for years to come'. Here's to my best friend and her new best friend."
After the room collectively toasted to the new couple and rewarded you with a round of applause, you slumped down in your seat with a sigh of relief. Maria tugged your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug that squeezed all the air from your lungs, whispering her thanks in your ear, then Tommy followed up with the same and a kiss on your cheek.
You tossed back the rest of your champagne and immediately looked around for a server to ask for more. Now that your nerves were finally at ease, you wanted to enjoy the rest of the party and relax, temporarily pushing the conversation you planned to have with Joel from your mind.
Tommy and Maria stood to go cut the cake, diverting the guests's attention so you could slip away to the bar with your empty glass. As you were leaning up against the bar, waiting for the bartender to refill your glass, you felt a familiar presence sidle up next to you. When Joel brushed his palm against your lower back, you had to suppress the shiver that tried to make it's way down your spine.
"Can I get one of those?" he asked the bartender when she returned with your drink. She nodded and placed a cocktail napkin on the bar before disappearing.
Joel's shoulder nudged against yours and he tilted his face towards you. "Nice speech."
You smiled and continued to stare down at the tiny bubbles rising and popping in your drink. "Thanks. Yours was good, too."
"Here you go," the bartender said, placing an identical glass next to yours. Joel nodded his thanks and lifted it up, raising it between your bodies for a toast. You obliged, gently clinking your flutes together before taking a small sip and turning around to look out over the ballroom. Across the way, Tommy and Maria were posing with their cake while photographers and guests took pictures.
"I liked that quote. 'Bout friendship that turns to love," he said nonchalantly. You bit your lower lip and tried to tamp down the rise of emotion in your chest, your nerves in desperate need of some rest.
"Yeah, I thought it was fitting."
Your eyes flickered to his, those deep brown eyes you'd had the pleasure of seeing in every shade, then to his mouth, his soft looking lips so inviting, you wondered what they tasted like in that very moment. Probably champagne, but you were willing to bet you would get a hint of chocolate from the wedding favors that were placed at every seat because you knew him well enough to know he couldn't resist sweets.
"You ever have that?" he asked, and you thought you could hear a little tremor to his voice. "Friendship that turns into love?"
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you took a shaky sip from your champagne, eyes now pinned on the newlyweds but you were hardly absorbing a thing that was happening. Your mind was racing with the implication behind his loaded question and you could hardly remember your own name.
Taking a deep breath, you answered him.
"Once," you said softly, then slowly turned your head, gazing up at his side profile while he appeared to be taking in the party, but you could see his pulse thrumming fast in his neck, his tanned skin twitching with every nervous beat of his heart. "You?"
He hummed and finally tilted his head in your direction, eyes drifting up and down your face, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Yeah. Once."
You felt yourself practically melt under his gaze, your muscles going lax, your body being pulled like a magnet towards him. Was it too late? Did you miss your chance? Or was it possible something was still there, something that could be salvaged? Joel murmured your name, his hand rising from his side, and you had a feeling you were about to get your answer when a familiar voice shattered the moment.
"Joel! C'mon, take pictures with my phone while I dance with your brother. James can't see in this lighting, he won't get it right."
As Mrs. Miller got closer, she noticed you next to him for the first time and it was impossible to miss the look of regret on her face when she realized she interrupted your conversation.
"Oh, nevermind, I'll find someone else," she said, clutching her phone to her chest, eyes sliding back and forth between you both. You cleared your throat and stepped away with a smile.
"No, you go on. I have to find my mom and say hi."
Before he had a chance to stop you, you slipped away, weaving through the crowd until you disappeared from view.
"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to intrude."
Joel shrugged and tossed back the rest of his champagne. "It's alright, Ma. Go dance with Tommy, I got it," he said, holding a hand out for her phone. Hesitantly, she placed it in his palm, then reassuringly rubbed her hand up and down his arm.
"Will you save me a dance for later?"
Joel gave her a pained smile and nodded. "'Course, Mama."
She pressed her lips into a thin line, easily picking up on her eldest son's dismay once you left. Right when they were about to reach the dance floor, she stopped and cupped Joel's face with both hands, looking up at him with an adoring smile.
"It's all gonna work out, honey. I promise."
Joel almost feigned confusion, almost put up his walls so to protect his feelings. But in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he sighed and nodded.
"I hope so."
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thaoworra · 6 months ago
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The Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association recently released the poems that made it to the finalist stage for consideration for the 2024 Rhysling Awards for Short and Long Speculative Poems of the year. Congratulations to all of the nominees! This will be the 46th year these awards have been conferred!
Short Poems (50 finalists)
Attn: Prime Real Estate Opportunity!, Emily Ruth Verona, Under Her Eye: A Women in Horror Poetry Collection Volume II
The Beauty of Monsters, Angela Liu, Small Wonders 1
The Blight of Kezia, Patricia Gomes, HWA Poetry Showcase X
The Day We All Died, A Little, Lisa Timpf, Radon 5
Deadweight, Jack Cooper, Propel 7
Dear Mars, Susan L. Lin, The Sprawl Mag 1.2
Dispatches from the Dragon's Den, Mary Soon Lee, Star*Line 46.2
Dr. Jekyll, West Ambrose, Thin Veil Press December
First Eclipse: Chang-O and the Jade Hare, Emily Jiang, Uncanny 53
Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness, Ali Trotta, The Deadlands 31
Gods of the Garden, Steven Withrow, Spectral Realms 19
The Goth Girls' Gun Gang, Marisca Pichette, The Dread Machine 3.2
Guiding Star, Tim Jones, Remains to be Told: Dark Tales of Aotearoa, ed. Lee Murray (Clan Destine Press)
Hallucinations Gifted to Me by Heatstroke, Morgan L. Ventura, Banshee 15
hemiplegic migraine as willing human sacrifice, Ennis Rook Bashe, Eternal Haunted Summer Winter Solstice
Hi! I am your Cortical Update!, Mahaila Smith, Star*Line 46.3
How to Make the Animal Perfect?, Linda D. Addison, Weird Tales 100
I Dreamt They Cast a Trans Girl to Give Birth to the Demon, Jennessa Hester, HAD October
Invasive, Marcie Lynn Tentchoff, Polar Starlight 9
kan-da-ka, Nadaa Hussein, Apparition Lit 23
Language as a Form of Breath, Angel Leal, Apparition Lit October
The Lantern of September, Scott Couturier, Spectral Realms 19
Let Us Dream, Myna Chang, Small Wonders 3
The Magician's Foundling, Angel Leal, Heartlines Spec 2
The Man with the Stone Flute, Joshua St. Claire, Abyss & Apex 87
Mass-Market Affair, Casey Aimer, Star*Line 46.4
Mom's Surprise, Francis W. Alexander, Tales from the Moonlit Path June
A Murder of Crows, Alicia Hilton, Ice Queen 11
No One Now Remembers, Geoffrey Landis, Fantasy and Science Fiction Nov./Dec.
orion conquers the sky, Maria Zoccula, On Spec 33.2
Pines in the Wind, Karen Greenbaum-Maya, The Beautiful Leaves (Bamboo Dart Press)
The Poet Responds to an Invitation from the AI on the Moon, T.D. Walker, Radon Journal 5
A Prayer for the Surviving, Marisca Pichette, Haven Speculative 9
Pre-Nuptial, F. J. Bergmann, The Vampiricon (Mind's Eye Publications)
The Problem of Pain, Anna Cates, Eye on the Telescope 49
The Return of the Sauceress, F. J. Bergmann, The Flying Saucer Poetry Review February
Sea Change, David C. Kopaska-Merkel and Ann K. Schwader, Scifaikuest May
Seed of Power, Linda D. Addison, The Book of Witches ed. Jonathan Strahan (Harper Collins)
Sleeping Beauties, Carina Bissett, HWA Poetry Showcase X
Solar Punks, J. D. Harlock, The Dread Machine 3.1
Song of the Last Hour, Samuel A. Betiku, The Deadlands 22
Sphinx, Mary Soon Lee, Asimov's September/October
Storm Watchers (a drabbun), Terrie Leigh Relf, Space & Time
Sunflower Astronaut, Charlie Espinosa, Strange Horizons July
Three Hearts as One, G. O. Clark, Asimov's May/June
Troy, Carolyn Clink, Polar Starlight 12
Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary, John Grey, Medusa's Kitchen September
Under World, Jacqueline West, Carmina Magazine September
Walking in the Starry World, John Philip Johnson, Orion's Belt May
Whispers in Ink, Angela Yuriko Smith, Whispers from Beyond (Crystal Lake Publishing)
Long Poems (25 finalists)
Archivist of a Lost World, Gerri Leen, Eccentric Orbits 4
As the witch burns, Marisca Pichette, Fantasy 87
Brigid the Poet, Adele Gardner, Eternal Haunted Summer Summer Solstice
Coding a Demi-griot (An Olivian Measure), Armoni “Monihymn” Boone, Fiyah 26
Cradling Fish, Laura Ma, Strange Horizons May
Dream Visions, Melissa Ridley Elmes, Eccentric Orbits 4
Eight Dwarfs on Planet X, Avra Margariti, Radon Journal 3
The Giants of Kandahar, Anna Cates, Abyss & Apex 88
How to Haunt a Northern Lake, Lora Gray, Uncanny 55
Impostor Syndrome, Robert Borski, Dreams and Nightmares 124
The Incessant Rain, Rhiannon Owens, Evermore 3
Interrogation About A Monster During Sleep Paralysis, Angela Liu, Strange Horizons November
Little Brown Changeling, Lauren Scharhag, Aphelion 283
A Mere Million Miles from Earth, John C. Mannone, Altered Reality April
Pilot, Akua Lezli Hope, Black Joy Unbound eds. Stephanie Andrea Allen & Lauren Cherelle (BLF Press)
Protocol, Jamie Simpher, Small Wonders 5
Sleep Dragon, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)
Slow Dreaming, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)
St. Sebastian Goes To Confession, West Ambrose, Mouthfeel 1
Value Measure, Joseph Halden and Rhonda Parrish, Dreams and Nightmares 125
A Weather of My Own Making, Nnadi Samuel, Silver Blade 56
Welcoming the New Girl, Beth Cato, Penumbric October
What You Find at the Center, Elizabeth R McClellan, Haven Spec Magazine 12
The Witch Makes Her To-Do List, Theodora Goss, Uncanny 50
The Year It Changed, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Star*Line 46.4
Voting for the Rhysling Award begins July 1; a link to the ballot will be sent with the Rhysling Anthology, as well as with the July issue of Star*Line. More information on the Rhysling Award can be found here.
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months ago
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Vibrating. I can be bribed yes.
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So thinking about this more, Gotham definitely has some... unique new-ish traditions. Slash things that outsiders are very ??? about. Practically the entire city closes if it's raining, with everyone working from home. Well, most are working from home, or indoors, because if they're out in the rain long enough they lose their legs. And well, people already think Gotham is inhuman enough without it being confirmed as such.
It's also, canonically a superstitious place. What with the Court and the cults and everything else so. They're really playing it up during tourist season (why is there a tourist season, they're serious. Just. Why.)
But their culture definitely has shifted after the whole... fish curse. Already started discussing it before, but a lot of people start keeping their hair longer, or at least bits long enough to put things like pearls or shells in them. It's almost like a flower language, just more sea... and poisonous... focused. Different pearls have different meanings, not just colors but size as well. Same with shells. Which was at first a more upper society thing, but it spread to the rest of Gotham. You can tell if someone is a native depending on the material- they may or may not scam outside people with fake pearls.
Now the merfolk change in general. As said before in previous reblogs, some people do end up having children in mer' form. Which means that hospitals do have specialty areas for people with mer medical issues. Including those that might have birth issues. Hospitals and Dr offices are strange to a lot of outsiders. I mean, no one knows what to make of giant tanks in some rooms.
(Also apologies if I'm jumping around I'm dealing with a fever while writing this lol)
Now something to note, is that unlike several merfolk in mythology, in mer forms Gothamites don't have a scaless upper half. It doesn't suddenly shift to human skin, that would ruin their adaptations to camouflaging through the murky waters. Which also helps with no one recognizing say, a friend or teammate when they see them. Not that Aquaman has seen or knows Batman's face.
Poor Clark though. He was... not expecting this when he rushed to where he heard Bruce's heartbeat pop back up after going all weird and... off. Because the change isn't painful, but it definitely looks and sounds so. Bones shifting alongside organs, skin splitting open into gills, jaws unhinging... I'm sure you can see why it'd be horrifying for an outsider to hear. Or see.
@f4nd0m-fun pspspsps look someone drew art <3<3
Mermay Special Prompt 3
“Are you kidding? No one goes to Gotham, that place is like,” Aquaman made a motion with his hand, a not-quite grimace on his face. “Like things should not be living in the water, like it should be impossible, and things should be dead, but they aren’t and it’s like, like the equivalent of an undead apocalypse over there!” 
Bruce rolled his eyes behind his cowl, taking a sip of his coffee as the others continued drinking. Socialize, they said, it’ll be fine they said. Well excuse him, but the waters weren’t that bad. Sure there were always dumped bodies, and chemicals from the rogue attacks, but it was far worse at one point.
One thing he’ll always be relieved for is how the… curse (thank you broken statuette back in the beginning of his vigilante career that fused with the other many curses of Gotham) made the people of Gotham actually care about the waters around them. 
Though also, he couldn’t help but thank anything that might be listening for the fact that the curse only interacted with Gotham waters, because losing legs with any risk of a drop of water would be downright annoying. 
“No dude, you don’t understand, no one goes there for a reason! That shit is horrific- someone saw a big thing with bits of rebar stabbed straight through it and still chased after a big alligator-thing!” Oh. Oh that had been him. Oops. Hopefully his kids didn’t find out about this, but they were probably already on the cameras. Dammnit. 
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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months ago
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Could you do Orc Tribal Leader X Reader on your wedding night?
A/N: I SWEAR I'm literally just writing the same stuff over again b/c I had a story just like this, but you know what I never get tired of it because its like a top fantasy bro. Hope this one was better than that version at least
Content warnings: Forced Marriage, kidnapping, attempted escapes, nonconsensual touching, infantilization of reader  
Synopsis: Your village, destroyed and burned. Your life picks up somewhere you would never have imagined. Maybe, death is a better option than being an orc’s spouse. 
Word Count: Approx. 2600 
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The autumn solstice was a bountiful, beholden time of year. From the greeneries of cabbage and the fowls hatched in summer now fully grown, there was much to be harvested and ripened for the taking. Your town was boisterous, full of life with a variety of competitors and businesses attempting to lurch at any tourist’s or local’s wallet to get them to buy countless crops, meat, and woven goods.  
Your tiny tea shop, suffering from last July’s drought, was finally starting to perk up with re-growth. Black tea, jasmine, bergamot, even hybrid blends like crushed raspberry and chamomile-- you could assemble enough to raise prices, label the small reaping as an imported foreign good luck charm that when drunken, blessed women with marriage prospects and men with wealth.  
That was, before however, you became bound and gagged to a chair, pleasantries being exchanged around you in a language harsh in your ears. The fires... You remember them well, the putrid stench of charred meat from the butcher next door, his body even more ablaze. Your jade boxes of fine silk bags meant for holding gifts of tea, becoming laden with ash and dust. Every scrap of money you saved up under the floorboards disappearing into floating particles and melted coins.  
“Brutes,” Your uncle called them, “deranged beasts with only two things in mind: bloodlust and greed.” 
Orcs were not well-received in a conservative, fearful town of humans. Even the elves, seen as symbols of beauty in mortal standards, were causes of paranoia and irritation whenever they made their rounds nearby.  
It was no wonder that the lines of tusked, olive-fleshed creatures in animal skin were spotted, the guards of your small city went on a rampage. Bows and arrows were no match for iron bones and teeth of steel.  
You, were no match for anything wider than a tree trunk. So when fire caught to your village, your home now rampaged for its finest ‘offerings’ to the orcs, you were left to be eaten by the licking flames. And yet, was it a blessing or a curse that one of the warriors decided to haul you on his back, doting on how “nicely you’ll do” as a wedding gift. You didn’t realize that the gift was to be part of the ceremony yourself.  
With smoke in your lungs and your eyes blurred by dirt and ash, you watched the ceiling cave in on your tiny tea-filled shack, bright orange and red dancing from behind the window panes as you drifted away.  
Daraktan is spoken all around you, harshly and with flicking tongues. You can hear snippets of English, wondering what’s going on behind the black veil covering your head. You don’t dare remove it, recalling what the orc woman, supposedly your now husband’s ‘mother’ telling you in your native tongue.  
“Touch this, and you will surely die. My alfhild will remove it, when it is time.”  
And so, you wait. Digging your fingernails into your palms, crying quietly in heavy furs and leather, the occasional hand coming to pull your shaky one to their mouths, kissing the tip of your index finger.  
“Aka’magosh..” They mumble to you, seemingly more at the body to your right. 
The calloused hand of someone much larger than you, whom you have assumed is your husband from his constant appearance nearby, occasionally comes to grace your back, to rest a hand on the top of your head, to smoothen your veil or the soft fur shawl on your legs.  
His hearty laugh hurts your ears, the jingles of the metal jewelry he adorns constantly making noise as he shifts.  
“Please..” You whisper, praying, to whoever may be listening. Why you? Why, out of all the fair, eligible humans of your town, were you picked out from the rubble to be “saved”? To be married to a faceless orcish man, who would surely break you in half before morning? 
The bitter cold of coming winter brushes against your legs. You can feel that you’re not inside wooden walls, and yet unnatural lighting seems to shine through your veil at times.  
“Omulork, I think I will take my… wedding gift, to be with in solitude.” 
Loud, deep laughs fill the room, the guttural voices of female orcs being swallowed up by uncountable numbers of warriors surrounding you. Your body shivered as a gust of wind blew in, the autumn breeze barely being kept at bay from where you sat.  
“Enjoy the festivities, shedzvagas!”  
His unique husk leaves everyone in the room to cheer in their orcish language, tough and painful pats coming to your back, the festive shakes to your shoulder nearly making you topple. 
That same heated, abrasive hand comes to grab your roped wrists, lurching you firmly, yet gently from your place on the ground. Panic started to fill your stomach as it rose to your chest, the warm aura of an orc next to you radiating to heat you from the chilly weather outside.  
Now. It was now or never. You didn’t want to think anymore what he would do to you when you were alone, when you had no one to cry to for help.  
Your feet moved before the thought finished crossing your mind. Your hands shook as you stumbled in a sprint forward. You passed thick bodies as you ran blindly, making it a mere five steps before a pair of meaty hands grabbed you by the hips. 
“A feisty one, Gar’mak!” The sounds of the orc woman who forced you into your wedding attire spoke up, a drunken laugh leaving her plump lips. “Alfhild, better not leave it out of your sight.” 
You hated how clear the English they used was to your ears, how human they all sounded, how when they spoke in your native tongue-- it was meant for your ears. She wanted you to know, to let the fear soak into your chattering teeth.  
The orc keeping you captive merely laughed, tossing your weightless body to his shoulder just like he had done when pulling you from the cobble of what was left of your tea shop. 
You screamed, biting down on what you could reach from under your veil. But the salty, thick flesh from beneath you was aloof, offering no reaction as a double pat was brought to your buttocks.  
“Now now, Djenifor, don’t fuss.” Gar’mak mused, each step he took forward making your body thump against his. He held a tight grip on you, not caring for the scratches you layered his back with. “I won’t try to hurt you… I will keep you safe, try my best to keep your fragile body in one piece.”  
The coldening night air was a drastic change to the room of heavy body heat and weighty movement where the wedding ritual and festivities were held. Now, it was quiet. You could hear the loud chattering begin to drift, songs and chants rising again as they once had when you were unceremoniously married to your new ‘husband.’  
Gar’mak patted your butt again, moving down to rub at the back of your thigh with a gentle, firm rhythm. He seemed to hum to himself, satisfied with the nights events. Scored himself a spouse and the treasured belongings of a human town.  
He must be pretty proud of himself, you seethed.  
The tears were beginning to sting the corners of your eyes, frantically scratching at the orcs back when you felt the warmth of an enclosed area meet your skin.  
“No, no--” You began to kick, trying to shove off the arm holding you steady on the orcs’ shoulder.  
“Settle down now--” Gar’mak ordered softly, putting you down on the fuzzy ground. You managed to hit his face, the hard scrape of tusks scratching your hand as a firm nose nearly cracked your knuckles.  
The orc went silent. Quiet in rage, he rips your veil away with a grip hard enough to tear hair out if he so desired.  
Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dimly lit tent, lanterns glowing at the corners as the mass of a creature leers over you. You forgot just how… big, orcs were. From afar they looked small, bigger than a human, but no threat due to distance. But now… he was above you, twice your height, twice your size, twice if not thrice everything. His palm the size of your skull, his eyes gleaming and looking over your body, weak with exhaustion and fright.  
Small, intentional scars were placed under his auburn eyes, some kind of tribe symbol you were sure. Thick eyebrows furrowed at the way tears decorated your cheeks, the exhales from his flat nose blowing hot breath on your chest.  
“Please, I, I can’t, I don’t belong--” You fumble over yourself, trying to slide back on the floor of soft wolf and caribou furs.  
“Shh, shh now,” The orc puts a hand to your ankle, an action that jerks you to a stop. “I won’t hurt you, lebam…” 
You sincerely doubt that, but the sentiment sounds genuine from his broken, baritone voice. 
“What’s your name?” He asks, pulling slowly with immeasurable strength at your leg. You slide towards him with little strain, even with your muscles going rigid for you to stand your place, your fingernails digging into the ground beneath you.  
You shake out your name, reluctant to give it.  
“Ah. What a human name; a scared wee human, aren’t you?” 
You don’t dare to respond, waiting for the sound of your snapping ankle. 
“They call me Gar’mak, though that may be too difficult for simple human brains. Mak is fine, little Djenifor…” 
You don’t want to call him anything, to refer to him at all-- yet, he looks keen to hear you say it. There’s an expectation in his eyes, a flick of his giant tongue against his lips.  
“Mak..” You mumble, trying not to gag.  
“Yes…” The orc’s hand frees your leg, caressing up to your cheek as he wipes away a forgotten wet stream of tears.  
“Please, just let me go--” You beg under your breath, scared of the way he seems to be eyeing your knees, your frail neck, your round ears.  
“You know that’s not going to happen,” He doesn’t seem angry at you for asking, just… Sorry. “We are bound forever now; even the gods couldn’t tear us apart. Wherever you go, I will find you. Whenever I leave, you will feel me gone. By sunrise tomorrow your scars will be given, and you will become one of us.”  
The panic begins to settle once again in your stomach. Maybe, tonight, yes-- tonight, if you could escape. You could-- just maybe you could find a way, past their all-seeing eyes, their all-hearing ears, escape to the mountains they took to get you here. 
 “But can’t you change it back?” Your voice cracks, expression twisting into an ugly cry as you feel thick fingers dig into your hair. “Just, we can go back-- just let me be…”  
You sob for what feels like too long, hours maybe, Gar’mak’s eyes never leaving you as he pulls you to his thigh. He brings a cotton blanket to your legs as he shushes you, the tenderness of his eyes a foreign sight compared to the façade he forced you to endure during the night's festivities.  
When your cries had turned to miserable, quiet sniffles, a muscled knuckle finds its way under your chin. He turns your head to look at him, eyes red and droopy as you try to think of any method of escape.  
“You’ll learn to like it here, human.” Gar’mak thinks for a moment, caressing your leg with a single finger.  
 “We are far more civilized than your kind-- far more… Fair. You’ll be treated well. The spouses of warriors do not go unfed, unbathed. Unloved, most of all. You will be cherished; I will cherish you, as long as you let me.”  
The orc grips your jaw in his hand, firm enough to where his fingers made dimples in your cheeks, but softly to where you felt like a mouse in someone’s closing palm. A kiss was planted to your temple, your body pushed deep against your husband’s as he holds you close enough to suffocate. You wait for him to choke life from you, and yet it never comes. He is harsh with his touches, but not harsh enough to hurt.  
“Please, let's finish tonight how it was meant to go, hm? Let me hold you…” He murmurs, all soft and lamblike into your ear. It sends shivers down to your soles, hot breath layering your neck as he looks at your lips with such intensity.  
You fear saying no, but the word rises up to your throat.  
It doesn’t make it out in time. Lips engulf yours, the stiff coldness of bone-colored tusks brushing against your face as Gar’mak holds you tight. Just one kiss is enough to make his demeanor act up.  
Your unassuming, comfort-driven spot on his lap is altered swiftly. You find yourself straddling the orcs’ waist, a hand pressed against the back of your head as your tied hands remain useless against his chest.  
You don’t know whether to speak, to scream, to bite at his lips-- but you remain flexile, afraid of the rough hand holding your skull so tenderly, the other gripping your thigh to wrap around his flank. You’re like a resistant doll, licked lips becoming tender as the orc pushes against you with such tenacity.  
You see his eyes open, staring into your wide, unblinking ones. They seem to communicate more than just lust-- its desire, desire for your reciprocation.  
Gar’mak waits… he kisses you, eyes narrowed on standby for your submission. They’re hazy and make you wonder if this is enough to make him release his brutish side, the part that showed no mercy for your neighbors or your home. What would happen, if you broke away or dared to claw at him?  
That thought doesn’t stay for long, not when the tough hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, squeezing just enough to bruise.  
You wince, lips pursing in reaction just in time for his next tongued assault.  
That slight opening of your mouth, the press of your lips against his, is all he needed. You find yourself twisted beneath his body as you’re brought to lay on the furry floor, the orc lying above you.  
“That’s right, I’ll be soft Djenifor… just do as I command, keep smelling so sweetly for me.” 
Scars litter his shoulders and collarbone, metal necklaces and piercings dangling on his olive-green, lightly haired chest as you fear how much it would take for him to crush you.  
He’s so quiet, letting go of your mouth as the orc’s curled tongue licks a slow, wet stripe down your jaw. His hands grab your thighs to wrap your legs around him, intent on keeping you steady and so close you practically breathe the same air.  
Before he leans to kiss you feverishly again, the orc brushes your cheek with his knuckles, petting down the amalgamated fabrics you wear to commemorate your wedding.  
 “You’re so lucky I found you first, that I had saved you from that rubble without layering an extra scratch; my brethren would not be so kind.”  
He kisses your cheek, a soft, hungry grin playing on his plumped and tusked lips. “So stay pliant like this for me, wee human, and you won’t feel any pain.” 
You lay rigidly, squeezing your eyes shut as a tender, all-consuming kiss eats you up, preparing you for the night’s affairs.  
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goldsbitch · 7 months ago
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My name
Busy schedules don't allow Y/N and her boyfriend Lando Norris much down time to chill with her friends. But missing a wedding is a no go.
fluffy fluff, wedding, one shot, for the vibes only
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It was almost a stroke of luck that Y/N's friends managed to pick a date for their wedding on a day that Lando could attend. This was a rare opportunity, while she accompanied him often during his events or outings, more than often he was unable to be there as her partner on her personal affairs.
Missed family gatherings, friends birthdays and grill parties. She accepted that part of their relationship, with the hope that in the future, it might come to change. They'd been dating for two years now - if she had to pick the brightest days of her life so far, it would in this time frame.
There was lot of excitement in the late summer air. One of her best friends was marrying a guy she became good buddy with over the years. And Lando would finally be joining her, as her partner. No more half smiles following the question "Would Lando join us this time?". These two friends marrying each other were a nice inspiration for the kind of relationship Y/N strived for. And Lando was that for her - a partner, lover, friend and the one to always make her laugh. But some of the people in her life were not convinced that he was good for her, mainly for the lack of his presence. She did not want the opinions of other to spoil their relationship. However, it would be a lie to say that her heart wasn't jumping around with happiness at the prospect of having him join them.
Her friends organized their dream wedding in a lovely estate somewhere in South of France. Small village remote from any city, safe from any prying eyes. It was refreshing from the flashing lights of racing tracks. Eighty people, all mostly friends with each other.
Y/N came in earlier with the main couple, in order to help them put everything in place. Two days of hard work navigating typical struggled of wedding organizing, with tomorrow being the big day. Regular guest were coming in, but she was only waiting for him, counting every minute.
Those prep days were packed with dealing with logistics and all this wedding usually concern. Going back and forth and trying to make everything perfect for the main event. But, she manages to find a moment of solutide to take in the beauty, the smell of late harvest, sun kissed valleys and heavy summer air, that set everything in. Having the bottom of your dress shiver with light breeze is the epitome of bliss. Life was good. And for the main part, she would get to experience all this with her love around her arm.
//
The two getting married? They were something else.
"Babe, what the fuck are these glasses?" said the bride to be as she watched the caterers setting up table for an evening dinner buffet.
"Well, you said yes, to them, remember? Back in May," was how the groom replied hastily. Y/N watched, knowing well enough that the strange looking glasses that were too big for her friends small hands were definitely not what the bride would have picked. She smirked as she watched them bicker playfully.
"They look like some futuristic ashtrays," the bride continued, shooting arrows playfully at he soon to be husband.
"Hm. Isn't that cool?" he said, trying to talk himself out of it. They were both strong opinionated people, so this was not a rare debate.
"No? How do you think this suits our late summer garden vibe?" she said, pointing around to the fields.
"You said yes to them, I remember specifically..." he defended without a beat.
"My mom's going to think we smoke."
"Well...we could use them as ashtrays," he said, inspecting the items.
The bride threw her hands up, not believing the game her "soon to be" was playing. "Babe, we don't smoke!"
He mimicked her hand gesture ironically. "We could start!"
"Just admit you've made a fuck up, honey, and we're good."
"That will never happen. This is all part of the plan."
Y/N observed and chucked, knowing well enough that the best thing to do was to stay out of their way.
A small quiet whisper came from behind Y/N. "Is this how they always act?" Shiver down her spine. She smiled, because she could recognize that voice anywhere. Heard it thousand times in the morning, in the middle of a busy day and on too many late night phone call to count. She turned her head slightly only to find him standing right behind her, his head now resting on her shoulder.
"Hi, muppet," he continued as he wrapped his hands around her, hugging her from behind. "I'm sorry I am a little late. Turbulences held us up."
The two stood there, as young lovers would. Completely wrapped in their own world.
"Did they? I completely lost track, as you see, big problems over here," she said and pointed inconspicuously to the couple still bickering about glasses. It wasn't technically true, she managed to get her phone out every other minute as they were unpacking stuff. But that was too embarrassing to admit.
She finally turned around to give him a welcome kiss, a much needed physical contact after not seeing him for almost three weeks. "Do you think we could take a walk around the garden? I would to get my head clear before facing other people," he said sheepishly. The last few race weekends had been very tough on him.
"I would be more than happy," she replied with a smile.
The scenery was too good to be true. Never ending fields of trees, heavy air sitting on the top of everyone trying to breathe and smell of hot soil and dried leaves cut though it all. They walked hand in hand in silence for a while, the sound of cracking branches accompanying them with every step. These two had spoken a lot in the past few weeks, every day it was either a phone call of few videos shared mapping their separate days. Texting was not good enough for these two. Lando was pretty much touch starved. Even though he was touched by random people more than an average person would be, as some fans felt like it was ok to do so. It made him miss the consensual touch he shared with his girlfriend more than ever. Girlfriend was an interesting word, felt outdated for the feelings he had for her. A small box had been accompanying him whenever he saw her for a while now. But he figured that highjacking someone else's wedding with his own proposal was a bit rude and selfish. He was grateful that this time he did not bring the box with him, as he was not sure he'd be able to resist proposing when he saw how the light reflected from her hair made it all shine, like a fresh jar of honey. A white dress would definitely suit her and his last name as well. He knew she'd want to keep her maiden name too and was more than fine with that. But to add "Norris" behind it was his ultimate goal.
"You seem more quiet than usual," she asked after a moment, being more than capable of reading his face. He was slowly letting go of his stress from the races.
"I'm loosing myself in the thoughts about your dress," he replied cheekily, letting her think he is talking about the teal summer dress she was wearing at the moment.
"Are you, now?" she winked and pulled her dress up slightly, only stopping at her bikini line.
"Oh, you can't do that to me," he said, defeated.
"You sure?" She stopped walking, came closer to him and put her arms around his neck. "But it's been so long since you've touched me," she added, knowing this will set him off. Teasing and seducing him was like a second language to her. She got real close and rubbed her core against his crotch.
"You're asking for trouble, Ms....Y/L/N," he gulped, nearly having a Freudian slip there. He panicked slightly and decided to kiss her immediately. She didn't seem to notice. Once he calmed down a bit he slid his hand down to he legs and the went back up to cup her ass and pulling her dress up again. "I would have you right here and now," he mumbled into their kiss and she smiled. Absolutely in love.
"We'll have to wait until the evening, we have a very nice room..."
"I don't care about that, I want to cum into you right here and now," he continued and bit her upper lip lightly.
"Anyone could walk by," she kept resisting.
"As if I care."
She laughed and broke their kiss. "We have to go now. I still have to help the poor bride with the decorations."
He signed overly dramatically. "You are making my life a living hell, Y/N."
"You can punish me later," she ended and got out of his embrace and started heading back to the estate. "Come on," she instructed as Lando watched her ass as she walked away. Norris. It's going to suit her.
//
Evening marked shared laughter, catching up with many friends, local wine with cheese and hands held under the table. Only once it was really happening did Y/N started to notice how much she needed this. Being able to "show" Lando off to her friends for longer than a short appearance. They got to finally know him, not only listen to stories about him. Oh and he was marvelous that evening. Charming, funny, criminally handsome - and always by her side. He was happy to be there. One of the reason being finally able to listen to the people she spoke about, but also to let loose and not have to think about what he says. These were no sponsors, interviewers or teammates. He loved that they cared about her more than him. It was a nice change. And he was on board with that, enjoying the fact that she was the star and not him.
//
The wedding day had swung by in a blur and suddenly, Y/N and Lando were sitting in a small local chapel, watching her friends making a mark on their relationship.
But Lando was not watching them. He was watching his now girlfriend. With the sight he had in the corner of his eye, the thoughts hanging in the back of his mind were getting louder and louder.
The ceremony was a non serious and cheerful one, the priest making many jokes while still keeping the atmosphere together. As far as ceremonies go, this was an honest one. The only thing to bring people out the holy romantic vibe this gave off was an unapologetically explicit kiss the bride and groom shared as they got wed. It was more like watching drunk teenagers make out. Some people laughed, some people cheered and the rest were slightly mortified. Y/N was one of the people to turn their heads away from the sight, she had known this girl ever since they were kids, this was a little too much. Lando found her reaction amusing, as he had heard many stories of her and her friend to know that she'd witnessed way more extreme things. "Look at you, prude," he whispered to her ear as he watched the bride and groom fight with their tongues.
"I refuse to accept this," Y/N said, keeping it up with the grandmas in the room.
"Well, if this repulses you, then I'm afraid you're going to die of embarrassment at our wedding," he said as if it was no big deal. But to Y/N it was. They had joked about marriage few times, but Lando used a different tone of voice this time. But she had been secretly dreaming about it for a while now.
"You're going to have tie me down if you're planning on doing that," she said, pointing at the pair, not quite sure how to process that he was probably thinking about their marriage too.
"So far, you've never said no to my plans," he winked at her.
Y/N smiled and turned her eyes to the ground. If someone had asked why she smiled so much, she'd say it was because of her friend's wedding. Though it would only be one half of the truth. She held his hand, as they walked out of the church. For some reason, it almost felt like a rehearsal.
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alicentofhightower · 5 months ago
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widow
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pairing: helaena targaryen x maid!reader
synopsis: helaena yearns for more insects to cradle, and you are all too willing to add to her collection.
includes: pre-b&c helaena but post aegon’s coronation, just cute lil crushes, fluff
wc: 1232
a/n: hiiii!! i wrote this for a twitter oomf so if u see this i hope u like it <3 this might be a bit ooc bc this is my first time writing for her but i tried lmao
-
Perhaps it was a bit stupid for you to be so afraid of insects while you worked in such a large castle, but the thought of little spiders crawling around frightened you nonetheless. The Red Keep was a monstrous thing, with halls seemingly never ending and chambers large enough to house an entire family. It was only natural for such little creatures to infest it.
You’d never understood why Helaena was so fond of them. Out of all of the royal family, she was the one you were closest to. Many of the other maids you worked with whispered of what a strange woman the Queen was, with her peculiar mumblings and odd tastes, but she was the sweetest woman you’d ever met.
A Targaryen dragonrider, she was, the mother of the heir to the Iron Throne and King Aegon’s only daughter, but she was so gentle. You suppose it was only logical you’d developed a crush alike to a green boy’s on her. Helaena had always had an aversion to touch, but you were the only one she allowed to braid her hair, and sometimes her fingers would trace indecipherable shapes on the back of your hand. You wondered what they meant.
“I’d like for more little bugs,” she tells you one day while you braid her hair. Wavy and soft, it was, befitting one of her station. “They are my only company when the children are at their lessons. I enjoy hearing their whispers.” You fight the urge to raise a brow at that, knowing Helaena’s wisdom often presented itself in riddles.
She sat on a velvet-cushioned chair in front of her vanity, adorning a blue dress matching Dreamfyre’s scales and a silver-chained necklace. Nimble fingers play with her wedding ring as you finish up, and it’s clear she’s making an effort to sit up straight. She’d never had good posture, but she’d try for you.
You place your hands on her shoulders as you bend to the level of her ear. The feel of them is purposely light and feathery, meant to make it easy for her to brush them off if she so desires. “Mayhaps you might ask your lord husband for more,” You say, your tone tender as always.
“He does not take interest in what I do.” Her words are simple and to the point. That was always how she spoke of Aegon. Then, she turns to face you, a small smile fixed on her face. The way the light from the window illuminates her face makes her resemble an angel.
She places her hand on top of where yours rests on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, then smooths out the wrinkles of her periwinkle gown and stands. You find yourself getting lost in the deep blue of her eyes, ever so alluring.
Only a moment later, you snap out of it, bowing your head to her and leaving the room with haste. It was improper for a person of your standing to carry such intimate affections for a royal woman, nevermind the fact that you were one yourself. Yet, you could not force yourself to ignore the thought that had come to you — to get Helaena more of her little bugs.
-
Your attempts to suppress your fears do not work. You find yourself asking yourself why you’re even putting yourself through this much trouble for just a few bugs, but you shrug it off and keep going.
You barely even recognize the hall you’re in, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve been here. You grip your scarlet skirts closer to you with one hand and grasp the candle tightly in the other, letting out a shaky sigh that echoes through the corridor.
You’re here with one goal in mind: get Helaena her silly spider, then run to her chambers so you never have to hold it again. To touch such a wretched thing will disgust you, no doubt, but it is worth it if it is for her. Thoughts of its impropriety are repressed yet again when you bend down to get a look at the stone floor.
It’s repulsive. What seems like thousands of thick cobwebs cover the parts of the stone by the wall, waiting to be stepped on by a group of nobles on the morrow. How do they come so fast? You do not wish to know the answer.
Swallowing down a dramatic shudder, you extend your hand, palm up, in search of an insect you think Helaena will take a liking to. You’re careful with the torch you hold, tilting it down to get a closer look at the sight before you.
There’s a little army of them, it seems, though they’re all spread out. A black widow catches your eye almost immediately, and it almost looks like its beady eyes are staring right through you. Like there’s someone behind you.
You whip your head around, but there’s no one there. “Come on, sweet thing,” You whisper, but it’s mostly to yourself rather than to the little recluse you grab speedily. You cannot fight the yelp that escapes from your throat when you feel its legs poking around in the gaps between your closed fingers.
You practically run up the steps towards where the royal chambers are after that, ignoring the piercing stares you receive from the other maids, the guards, and the noblemen alike. Fuck them, you think, ignoring the fact you’re going to repent at the Sept later for utilizing such a foul word, this is for the Queen.
Quite rudely, you realize later, you burst through the doors of Helaena’s chambers and feel a wave of guilt when you see how she startles at the noise of it. She’d always been sensitive to loud interruptions.
“Your grace,” you squeak, almost wincing at the tone of your voice. Helaena sets her embroidery hoop aside, and you can’t help but notice how similar the spider in it looks to the one in your palm. Wide eyes study you as you move to sit on the floor beside her. It’s far more clean than the hallway.
Gentle hands reach for yours. “What’s the matter?” She asks, always so empathetic, and her lips part in surprise when she sees the bug you hold. Never had you spoken of it to her, probably not wishing to offend her somehow, but she’d always known of your aversion to such critters.
She reaches for it herself, smiling softly at the feeling of its tiny legs crawling over her wrist. Gasping, as if realizing what you’ve done for her, she sets the thing in one of the empty cages behind her and turns her full attention to you. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “You did not have to.”
“You said it yourself, my Queen. You required more of them, did you not?”
Her cheeks flush at that, a rare sight. Gingerly, almost afraid that you’ll pull away in repulsion of her touch, she places a kiss onto your temple. An honor, you’ll realize later, knowing of her usual unwillingness when it comes to physical touch.
A tentative finger traces the lines of your palm. Her eyes are still fixed on you. “…I’ve never had someone care so much for what I desire,” She admits, “or mine own interests.”
Suddenly, she interlaces her fingers with yours. “Will you stay?”
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