#rating: rom 13

[shinknocks]

Deep Lust Page 15

<Prev | Next>

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After: Act 1

⟶ Chapter Summary | It feels like a dream come true. Prince Charming comes to the rescue, and then he is suddenly proclaiming his love to you. The promise of your happily ever after is suddenly within arm’s reach. Yet sinister ploys are at play, coming in the way of your happy ending just when you are merely a step away from reaching it

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 19,688 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for future chapters; slow burn, black magic, curses, fantasy beasts/monsters, fantasy violence, fantasy weapons, mentions of (possible) characters death, blood, self inflicted injury (pretty harmless, no weapons are involved in this part), sudden wedding proposals, coercion, hypnotism, betrayal. ⟶ Special thanks to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi, @theodea

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia…

A place where each story ends with happily ever afters and a dream can become reality with one simple wish. Ruled by the powerful Sorceress Queen Rosalyn, who reigns the kingdom with her iron fist, steel heart, and enchanting spells, the kingdom prospers with riches and an abundance of good fortune. 

Magic exists in this place as the main core that holds the entire kingdom together. 

It protects the people of the kingdom from the evil forces lying in wait within the shadows. Magic also brings light and joy to the people of the kingdom, opulence and prosperity to the land, allowing Andalasia to bloom magnificently for the past century among other magical kingdoms within the realm.

With magic, the people of the kingdom—even those who aren’t mages or sorcerers—are able to have a strong connection with the surrounding nature. The blessings of magic spreads through the land, providing crops and provisions for the people throughout the year. It also spreads through the waters flowing from the mountains and all the way to the open sea, enriching the land, the towns and the vast farmlands within the kingdom’s territories. 

The blessings of magic also allows the humans and the creatures of the wild—the animals and fairies—to speak in the same language. Allowing all part of the kingdom to live in harmony and peace under the same sky. 

But just like two sides of a coin, magic has another face that the people despises the most; dark magic, with its evil spells and curses, which often draws in malicious forces and lures the beasts and monsters that would pose a threat to the kingdom. 

For years, the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyn, has managed to protect the people by using her powers. Yet dark magic has always been powerful. Enough to continue existing in the darkest places of the kingdom, hiding in the shadows, waiting in the crevices of the land for anyone who would be strong enough to wield and harness it. 

There is only one kind of magic in Andalasia that is strong enough to defeat these dark spells. 

Stronger than the magic that the Queen possesses and casts to rule the kingdom and its people. The most powerful magic that everyone holds out their hopes, dreams, and wishes for. The one that everyone most desperately seeks, no matter what risk they would take to find it. Even the animals and wild creatures of the woods would sing praises about it between the breezing wind, while people within the kingdom would write fables to commemorate its existence.

It is the magic mostly known as the true love’s kiss. 

Ever since you were just a little girl, you have heard many stories about it. From the tales that had been written in the books and scribes about the magical moments that are shared by those who have embraced their happily ever afters with their true love’s kiss. 

Once you become old enough to understand all there is to know about the magic made possible with true love’s kiss, you begin to feel a deep sense of yearning growing within you. A desire so profound to find your own happily ever after, and to find someone that you could share your true love’s kiss with. This desire has filled your thoughts and dreams, always keeping you wishing and praying for the opportunity to look out to the world so you can find it for yourself. 

And last night, after a seemingly long wait, fate itself has decided to answer your prayers by sending you a wonderful dream. A dream filled with signs telling you that your wish may soon come true. 

What you saw in your dream was everything that you had always pictured to happen. It got you feeling elated, hopeful, and it had woken you up with the strong desire to immortalise it while you had the chance to. 

The sun was barely up when you first opened your eyes, yet there was no way you could remain idle, no matter how comfortable it would have been to stay in bed. Your energy was already high, pushing you to start working on bringing the key piece of your dream into reality while it is still fresh in your memories. 

An hour or so has passed since, and you have been moving around your quaint bedroom, bringing with you scraps of fabrics, ribbons, and various other raw materials that you managed to gather from the garden before the sky grew bright. The rapid thrum of your heartbeat becomes the music you hum to while you carefully combine the materials, pinning each piece onto the wooden mannequin standing in the center of your bedroom—the same mannequin you would normally use to create your pretty dresses.

Except instead of displaying a dress, the wooden mannequin has been set up to display your newest creation. These beautiful scraps of fabric that you have collected and formed together aren’t meant to be any piece of clothing that you might be wearing later once the season changes, but to bring the object of your dream—the object of your deepest desire—to come alive. 

As your creation is slowly forming into its final shape right before your eyes, you feel a rush of enthusiasm and joy brewing inside your chest. A feeling that you share with your busy little helpers that have been moving in tune with you from every corner of the room. 

Their presence has become another reason why you are so full of energy this morning. They are the true blessing that had come from the forest, lured by the sound of your voice as you were singing the wistful tune of your aspiration the moment you woke up from your deep slumber. 

Each animal now present in the room are either having fun watching and cheering for you, or helping you with all the different tasks that they can handle. You enjoy watching your small friends following your instructions obediently while singing along with the cheerful tune you are humming while you continue to work. 

The wild hummingbirds that are usually shy and diffident are now fluttering around the mannequin, securing the ribbons that you have specifically chosen for your project. The fluffy chinchillas keep running back and forth to bring in more scraps and little accessories from your drawers to add to your creation. 

Once in a while, some more of your fluffy little fellows slip into your room. Always carrying with them the various items that they could find from the forest and the small patch of garden right outside of your cabin in case they would be useful. 

Just like the pair of wild sparrows that are flying in through your window right this moment. The sound of their cheerful chirping fills the room, drawing your attention to their arrival. “Here are some more leaves and fresh straws that you can use for the hair, sweet Blossom.” 

A smile is lifted on your face as they drop some autumn leaves and fresh-smelling straws from their beaks and talons into your open palms. “Why, thank you, sweethearts,” you gratefully say to them, “These should make the hair look all fluffy and soft.” 

Soft flutters rise in your chest as you lean to give each sparrow a light peck on top of their heads. A gesture that you give not only because you are feeling grateful for their help, but also for the way they are calling you with your childhood nickname in such an endearing way. 

Blossom.

Your mother had been the one who gave you the special name when you were born. It was said that the flowers seemed to blossom more beautifully the moment you came into this realm, and the nickname has stuck on you ever since. The name that is interchangeable with your birth name, and one that anyone who is close to you would often choose to call you with. 

You begin humming to yourself again as you drift back to your mannequin, pinning the leaves into the crown of the mannequin’s head. You have yet to get everything done when you hear soft voices calling for you excitedly from below. 

“How about these bronze quartz for the eyes?” A pair of white wild bunnies call out to you as they hop around your ankles. Clapping your hands with joy, you bend down to gracefully accept their gifts. 

“Oh, yes!” you squeal as you lift the pair of bronze quartzes to your eyes, loving how they glow under the bright morning sunlight. 

“How lovely, and they look perfectly similar to the eyes looking back at me in my dreams,” you delightfully exclaim to them as you attach the dark-coloured crystals to the mannequin’s face, giving it a pair of eyes that are glinting beautifully as if they are coming alive. “Those eyes looked as dark as the night sky but were glowing like twilight when I looked deeply into them in my dream, and these pretty quartz are reminding me of them.” 

Ada, the gentle deer, prances over, bumping her head against your calves to draw your attention to her. “Then how about these are some goose feathers I found at the lake this morning? Would these help too?” she gently offers as she drops the delicate feathers by your feet. 

With an astonished gasp, you bend down to your knees to retrieve it. You take a moment to marvel at them as a flutter of delirious giggle rises in your throat. “What beautiful feathers, perfect for a prince. I wonder where I should put this,” you ponder to yourself, tapping your chin as you admire the feathers’ colouring—its golden-brown gradient shade that looks luxurious, like pieces of expensive materials that you can only see adorning the fancy dresses or suits that the nobles wear to the Queen’s royal ball.

With a soft bubbling laughter, you twirl on your feet before pinning the feathers on its upper torso, and you can almost see it shimmer as the sunlight falls on them. 

“Oh, how perfect!” you marvel at the mannequin standing right before you with a sigh. Stepping back from it, you take in the result of your hard work, making sure that you have followed every little detail that has been engraved in your memory. 

“Just what exactly are you making so early in the morning? Keeping everyone busy before you even had your breakfast,” Poppy, the sassy squirrel who is also your most loyal companion, huffs curiously as she climbs over your shoulder, wanting to have a clear look at what you are creating. 

“Oh, Poppy. My dear sweet Poppy.” A dreamy sigh escapes from your lips, which only draws more confusion on your little friend’s face. “I had a dream last night.” 

“A dream?” 

“Oh yes, Poppy. A wonderful dream.” You cannot help but giggle as a giddy feeling fills your chest. You also feel a sense of longing, an odd sensation which has been plaguing you ever since you woke up from this magical dream. 

“Tell us about the dream, Blossom,” your friends chirp and sing from all around you, “Tell us!” 

With a smile, you slowly drop down to the floor cushions at the corner of your bedroom, finding comfort as you begin to share your tale, “I dreamed of a prince. A very handsome, charming, and powerful prince.” 

With your eyes on the wooden mannequin, you gesture your hand at your nearly finished work, “And he looks just like this.” 

The statuette figure that stands before you, shaped by the decorated and fully-dressed wooden mannequin, appears like the prince of your dream. Standing tall enough that you have to lift your chin up to look at it properly even while you were on your feet, the replica of the prince seems to come alive. You may not have been able to see his face as clearly as you would have liked, with how hazy that dream now seems to your mind. Yet as you run your gaze over your creation, you have to admit that you may have come close to getting at least something about him right. 

The upper frame of the mannequin is draped with a made-up attire that looks like a three-piece suit. While it doesn’t look as refined as the suit you pictured in your mind, it still looks intricate enough to resemble the fancy suits made for nobles. 

The jacket, made from a piece of wool which you once used to craft yourself a winter coat, is fitted to show the figure’s broad shoulders and trim waist. You didn’t forget to add a long tail at the back of the jacket, giving it a more sophisticated look—which you can imagine would flow prettily should the ‘prince’ walks across the room to ask you for a dance. The royal blue hue of the fabric allows the suit to stand out under the bright morning sunlight penetrating into the room. You can almost imagine it, the person wearing this jacket shining among the other people in a massive ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention just as you are unable to look away from it now. 

The golden-brown goose feathers that Ada had brought you look like golden embroideries adorning the lapels of the jacket. With a subtle sheen on them, the feathers are able to catch the sunlight perfectly as you try to look at them from different angles. 

Beneath the jacket, a waistcoat made of a matching fabric but in deep brown hugs the mannequin’s torso. Its snug fit creates an illusion of a broad and strong chest that would have filled its form perfectly as a powerful gentleman would. Various stones and crystals that you have pinned at the front of the waistcoat make up to replace the fancy buttons, and they all look almost like polished jewels against the dark backdrop as the sunlight falls on top of them. 

A pair of trousers are set up to cover the lower part of the mannequin. Using a smooth fabric that looks almost like satin, the piece of clothing looks no different than what most royals or nobles would wear in the fancy parties that you had quite a few experiences attending to. The trousers seem to have added an illusion that looks captivating to your eyes; a silhouette of a pair of legs that are long and strong, with toned muscles hidden underneath and a sturdy foundation that would display class and elegance. 

A crisp dress shirt in pristine white completes the entire ensemble. The light ruffles from the collar are peeking out from beneath the jacket, creating the illusion of the figure’s long neck. A silk tie is knotted around the throat, created from your silky scarf that has a spread of tiny blue flowers on a white background which seems like the perfect match to the dress shirt and the intricate looking jacket. 

“Yes, this is all perfect. This is how he looked like in my dreams,” you muse with a contented sigh, grateful that you were able to bring the image of your prince to life only based on the memory of your lovely dream. 

“But what did you see in this dream of yours, Blossom?” you hear the wild doves chittering from the windows, no doubt asking on behalf of your other animal friends who are present here, all silently swooning over your story, “What did you and the Prince do?” 

“Oh,” you stutter as you remember the beautiful moments that you saw in your dream.

“It was so, so romantic. He was fighting this evil beast, a black dragon that was breathing out fire so hot it could burn down the entire magic forest—” you start by sharing the part of the dream that gave you a fright, drawing a collective sound of sharp gasps from everyone in the room as well as you talk about the fierce dragon who was fighting against your Prince from the top of a dark tower. 

“—and then, once he won the battle and peace was reclaimed once more, he came to catch me as I was falling from height. We locked eyes with one another and had our moment, and that was when he chose to stay longer with me, ensuring my safety instead of returning to the castle. We talked for hours, walked through the forest, and he even took me on a ride in his glowing carriage. And when evening came, once the moonlight and the bright stars came to replace the sun, he finally asked me for a dance.” 

A collective sound of dreamy sighs echo through the room, increasing the excitement you feel bubbling inside your chest. And you have yet to reach the best part of it. 

“And then? What happened next, Blossom?” the fluffy and shy badger, Brew, asks you curiously from behind the curtains, where he had been hiding while watching you have fun with his friends. 

With a happy giggle, you lean back against the cushions while keeping your eyes on your made-up Prince. “We danced, and danced, and danced all night, and right at the sound of the clock chiming at midnight, we shared one of the most magical moments ever”—you let out a long, deep sigh as you murmur softly—”with a true love’s kiss.” 

“A true love’s kiss?” everyone gasps and sighs, sharing the elated feeling that is now surging through your chest. 

“But how will you be able to have a true love’s kiss,” Poppy teases as she climbs over the right shoulder of your ‘dream prince.’ She bends and points at the empty space at the bottom of the face as she jokingly asks, “If this prince of yours doesn’t even have a pair of lips?” 

Your eyes follow Poppy’s little fingers and an astonished laugh slips out of you. “Oh, dear me! We forgot the lips!” You quickly cover your mouth before the sound of your laughter reaches outside of your bedroom, realising too late that this is still early in the day. Yet your eyes remain on the mannequin’s expressionless face. “Oh, what should we place there as his lips? Does anyone have any idea?” 

Almost immediately, your little friends begin to chirp and squeal and chitter with each of their own ideas. 

“How about some fresh flower petals?” 

“Red roses don’t bloom as much or as pretty in this time of year!” 

“Berries?” 

“How about red chilli peppers?” 

The last response makes you laugh, joined by your delighted forest friends who seem to be enjoying their time with you, just as much as they seem to be enjoying the look on your face as you are filled with happiness and joy. 

But before you can say anything to respond to their ideas, a gentle voice calls out to you from downstairs.

“________! Sweet Blossom, where are you?” the voice echoes through the small cabin, and your friends scatter to different places to take cover. Some remain, yet they choose to hide in small places, while others jump into safety right out the window. The voice continues, “I know you’re awake. I can hear you singing from all the way down here.” 

“Oh, it’s Grandmother!” With a stifled laughter, you rise to your feet and rush to move. “Quick, help me hide this.”

Grabbing a blanket, you bring it to the mannequin, hoping that you would be able to cover it in case your grandmother ever decides to walk up to your bedroom. While it may not cause you any trouble should your grandmother ever finds out what you have been up to all morning, you know that she would only worry once she sees the ‘dream prince’ standing in your bedroom. 

You don’t even want to try and imagine what your grandmother would say, or what kind of look that she would give you if she ever hears why you are using your working mannequin to create your own Prince Charming. 

“Get your head out of the clouds, dear. We have other important things to worry about and focus on. It’s not good to be dreaming too much when you’re awake.” 

That is what she would always say whenever you talk about your dreams of finding your happily ever after, or whenever you listen to your grandmother’s friends and customers about the most recent gossips and tales from the kingdom. 

“Blossom, quick!” Poppy’s voice snaps you out of it, as she and the rest of your remaining forest friends begin to pull on the other side of the blanket to help you cover the mannequin. 

Once it is perfectly hidden, you pull yourself together and turn away, only making one last glance at the now-covered ‘dream prince’ before making your way downstairs to see your grandmother before she starts calling for you again. 

“I’m coming, Nana!” 

The place that you call home is nothing more but a small wooden cabin located deep in the woods, right at the heart of the Amaranth Forest. Located quite a distance away from the Queen’s castle, your home serves as a place of solitude, away from the bright and bustling life of the kingdom.

This is where your sweet grandmother has raised you all on her own ever since you were a young child. You may have no recollection of your parents, being so young when they were gone. But everything in the cabin serves as the reminder of their existence. From the pictures that are being hanged on the walls and placed on the mantle above the fireplace, to the small trinkets that they left behind, each one holding pieces of their memories for you to remember them by. 

Growing up without them, you barely felt the weight of their absence. To every void formed by the lack of their presence in your life, your grandmother fills it with her overflowing love and beautiful memories. Being under her care allows you to live with happiness and joy, as she continued to make sure that you could live your life to the fullest. She has also taught you to remain grounded, to be able to build your own life without losing your focus or getting lost in your dreams. 

And there are also your friends from the forest, the wild animals that would often come to visit you whenever you are in need of company. They have kept you from feeling lonely, whether during the good days, but more so on your darkest days. The same way they are keeping you company right this moment, as you are trudging along the woods to finish the day’s errands which your grandmother had sent you out to do. 

“I’m making breakfast for both of us before I will have to leave to the shop downtown,” she said once you joined her in the kitchen earlier when she called for you to come downstairs, “But I need help getting some ingredients from the gardens and the groves. I would go myself, but my knees have been bothering me. Will you be a dear and fetch them for me?” 

There was no way you could have refused your grandmother’s request. Not when you saw the look on her face this morning when you first came down from your bedroom. 

The dark pockets under her eyes have been more obvious as of late, so have the lines of age marring her skin. You cannot remember seeing your grandmother so tired and weary as she did today, but she has always known to hide her exhaustion well. Even if it means having to force a smile on her face just to stop you from worrying about her as she continues with her day. 

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wondering if there is something for her to be wary about. The thought follows you as you are gathering all the ingredients needed—the wild mushrooms from the nearby woods and some fresh vegetables from the small patches of gardens that your grandmother has been tending to.

Perhaps your worries have been written so clearly on your face, because the moment you announced your leave after seeing your grandmother, your animal friends immediately insisted to come with you. And you are grateful for their company. Because despite having these worrying thoughts filling your mind, you still find yourself enjoying your time in the open with them around to entertain you.

It is also a blessing that the weather is nice this morning.  

The sun feels warm on your skin, while the canopy of trees above your head are keeping you safe from the rising heat. Small birds are flying between the trees above you while accompanying your walk with their melodic tune. You also have Poppy joining you, as she is perched comfortably on your shoulder when she isn’t jumping around to help you plucking out fresh ingredients from the ground. 

The wild bunnies and Brew the badger are also there, jumping all around you as they follow you through the woods. Even Ada is following you close, as she acts like a guide before she will be making her way to the river to continue her morning stroll. 

After quite some time has passed, and almost all of the ingredients that you needed have been gathered, your friends begin to remind you of your ‘dream prince’ once again when their constant teasing continues. 

“Now that we have everything that your Nana needed, shall we go around to look for the perfect lips to give your dream prince?” Poppy suggests as she places the last piece of the potatoes into your basket.

“Oh, my! I almost forgot!” You gasp, and immediately, all the delightful feeling you had earlier returns to you tenfold as you remember about your Prince Charming. “You’re right! Now that we’ve gotten everything, we should continue with our mission to find the Prince’s lips. We do have some time left before Nana has to go to open the shop for the day.”

After sharing a quick discussion between you and your friends, everyone decides to follow Ada to the nearby river where she always does her morning stroll. Arriving there, she leads you to the thick bushes where the wild berries always grow during the season. The luscious shade of crimson from the fresh berries looks perfect, just the shade that you were searching for, and it makes you feel even more enthusiastic about finishing your creation. 

Seeing the look on your face, Poppy rolls her eyes and makes a tutting sound. “Oh, Blossom, do you think that your dream boy truly exists?” she wonders out loud. 

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you simply answer, feeling optimistic about it still as you carefully pluck the berries and slip them into your basket. “If he could come into my dreams, then he must be out there somewhere.” 

“Where?” Poppy teasingly asks as she dramatically begins looking around, peering through the woods to find your prince. 

Rolling your eyes back at her, you simply laugh at her antics. “He could be anywhere. He might be somewhere within these woods, getting lost between the thick trees while he is making his way to find me. Or he could be on the other side of the mountains, fighting off dragons and monsters to claim as his prize while proving himself worthy before winning my heart and sweeping me off of my feet.” 

With a sigh, Poppy shakes her head at you. “Oh, _______. I think your grandmother was right when she said that you have your head up in the clouds. Remember to get back to the ground before you fly too high.” 

You can only smile as you recall your grandmother saying the same thing; that you have always been dreaming even when you are awake, and that you always let your imagination run too far, when your mind is filled with all the wishful thinking you have about finding your happily ever after. 

You can understand why she would feel so worried about you, wondering if one day you would find it hard to face reality with how much you keep dreaming about your happiness. Even though it had been your grandmother herself who made you believe in happily ever afters in the first place. 

“Your parents had their happily ever after. That was how you came into this world, and why they are still together now. Wherever they may be,” you heard her speak one time while she was lost in thoughts, soon after she was done telling you all the tales about happy endings and finding true loves. 

It wasn’t often for your grandmother to talk about your parents. Except for the rare occasions where she would tell their stories, about how they met and fell in love, and how their happily ever after made it possible for you to be born. 

She would always wear a look of longing in her eyes whenever she talks about your parents. Although it would always be accompanied by sadness and hurt — the emotions that are constantly written so vividly in her face. It has always made you feel hesitant about bringing up your parents when you talk to her. But there is something in the way your grandmother tells what little tale she has about your parents’ love story and happily ever afters that continues to bring you hope. It makes you wish that the kind of love they had does exist, and that you may one day find it.  

Sighing to yourself, you embrace the blissful feeling that you have each time you recall parts of your dream which makes your heart flutter. The more you think about the dream, the more you refuse to believe that your dream had meant nothing at all. 

Andalasia is a land filled with magic, after all. A place where dreams come true. And you believe that the dream had been a sign telling you that your happily ever after is near. 

“I’m not going to fly off to the clouds just to find him, Poppy. Not when he might be somewhere close by,” you simply tell your friend as you finish up your hunt for the perfect lips that you are giving your made-up Prince.  

Little do you know that your words are merely moments into coming to reality. 

Because just as you are finishing up your errand, when you are ready to turn back home with your basket filled to the brim with fresh assortments, a commotion begins to rise on the other side of the woods. 

Oblivious to the possible danger that is coming towards you, you continue prancing between the trees, enjoying your time with your animal friends playing by your side. You start singing along to the song that they are singing about your dream prince, the true love’s kiss, and your happily ever after, unknowingly luring the incoming peril that is coming to find you as the sweet tune of your voice echoes through the deep forest. 

On the other side of the woods, beyond the steep hills covered in thick clusters of trees, the sound of a deep, feral roar echoes through the vast woodland.

Gone is the peaceful morning, and the entire forest wakes up to a sudden rising turmoil. 

The trees are shaking with the echoing roar while the ground is rumbling violently, sending wild animals around to scamper away to find places to hide. Some have barely made their safe escape when the dense trees are suddenly parted, and a giant troll bursts through the thickets. 

The creature’s massive foot stumbles as he rushes through. Avoiding the trees and boulders that are getting in his way seems like a struggle, yet his speed has yet to falter even when he can barely stay upright in his hasty run. It isn’t so much of the obstacles that appear on his path that are making it hard for him to run across the woods, but more because of the remnants of the broken restraint still dangling around his ankles. 

As the creature continues to scramble to find escape, a white horse appears to be racing not to far behind. The sound of its hoofs hitting the ground in rapid speed adds to the entire commotion. The steed pushes forward, giving its full strength as it runs between the trees to keep up with the troll, while the rider continues to shout his commands, pushing his steed to keep giving a chance. 

Following behind is yet another man in a horse, barely keeping up with the first rider and the relentless creature running before them. 

“Sir Noah! How did you manage to let that creature escape? He’s running even faster than before!” the first rider shouts with a firm voice.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the man following the first rider calls out between his heaving breath. He can barely keep his composure while his darker horse seems to be struggling to maintain its speed and trying its best not to get left behind. 

“I was sure that I’ve tied the monster’s hands and feet as strong as I possibly could. I merely step aside to, ugh—” the man gets his breath knocked out of his chest as his steed leaps over a fallen tree, “To rest my old man’s back and all of a sudden, the rope on his hands snaps, and he just rose to his feet and began running.” 

The man stops shouting to catch his breath while trying his hardest to control his loyal horse. Both himself and the horse that he is riding are old and withered, not as young or as strong as the Crown Prince who is riding ahead with his massive white horse. They have all been running and working on the hunt since the break of dawn, yet the horse has yet to show any signs of exhaustion. It doesn’t seem to be losing its strength, just as the Prince’s stamina has yet to falter even when he was the one to fight the creature to its submission less than an hour ago.

“It was the voice!” The man, Sir Noah, manages to scream out once he has his breath steadied. “There was a strong breeze coming while the troll was tied down, and I swear I heard a voice coming with the wind, a voice that sounded so beautiful. Like a birdsong. Perhaps the voice enchanted the troll to gain its strength!”

“Then we must find the source of that voice to stop the troll!” the Prince shouts back, still with vigour that has yet to fade.

“But, Prince—” Sir Noah tries to shout to stop him as the Prince rides ahead, speeding faster away from him. “Prince Jungkook, wait!” 

To Sir Noah’s surprise and disgruntlement, the Prince seems to find joy in this entire predicament as he laughs and shouts to his horse to pick up speed right as the troll stops struggling in his run. “Go, Onyx! Don’t lose him!”

“No, Prince! Your Highness, you need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Sir Noah continues to shout, although his voice is slowly fading as he is beginning to lose his breath once more. 

“No, I won’t. I can do it! I know I can!” Jungkook continues to shout back, almost like he is chanting to himself with pure confidence as he leads his horse to keep its steady pace through the thickets. “I’ve had him before so I can’t give up now.” 

Sir Noah has lost track of time and distance, unaware of how far they have gone since the troll started making his escape. All he can see around him are trees, more trees, a couple of small hills to run over before the land opens up to a small meadow that fades into another part of the forest that is just as dense as where they first started this intense chase. He cannot help but blame himself for his recklessness, even more so as he watches in horror the moment the troll jumps off of a small hill to cut more distance to wherever he is heading to, with the Prince’s horse making a huge leap right after.

“No!” Sir Noah screams out, before his voice turns to a loud screech when his horse follows its younger counterpart to jump off the hill in his shadows. “Lord have mercy!” 

“This is so much fun!” Prince Jungkook shouts with a boastful laugh, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s fright. The excitement that is palpable through his voice only makes Sir Noah’s stomach drop. 

“No, this is not fun, Prince Jungkook!” Sir Noah yells out of frustration before groaning, “Oh dear, the Queen is going to have my head for this.” 

Before he can say more, the previous sound that he heard through the wind is starting to reach him again. He can tell that they are getting close to the source. Close enough for him to listen to the alluring tune that has been calling for the troll more clearly and identify it as a female voice, singing to the animals and the forest, and his fear escalates further. 

Oh yes, there is no doubt that the Queen will have my head for this, Sir Noah wonders to himself as he straightens up and clutches at the horse’s reign tightly to keep it steady. He knows that he is only going to put the Prince in danger, but Sir Noah has no other choice.  

“Your Highness! It’s the voice! The troll is after the one who is singing this melody!” he starts shouting at the Prince, who now has his eyebrows furrowed with deep focus, growing concerned with Sir Noah’s pleading words. 

“Prince Jungkook, you must hurry and stop him before he gets to the singing lady!”

“There you are, sweet little Princess. Such pretty voice. Pretty enough to eat!” 

For a moment, you cannot comprehend what is actually happening. 

One minute, you were walking between the bushes and the flower beds, admiring the wildflowers blooming under the morning sky while humming to the birdsong echoing through the woods. And then, suddenly, the lovely birdsong stopped, the forest fell quiet, and your animal friends became so agitated that their cheerful chirps and giggles faded to whispers. 

The next thing you knew, your peaceful moment with your friends was broken when the ground you were standing on began to quake, the trees up the hill began to shake furiously before they parted, and a giant troll burst through the thickets. He spoke with broken dialect and a menacing tone of voice, followed by an eerie roar coming out of his mouth as he started barrelling his way towards you. 

At first, there is nothing that you can do except to remain frozen. You are too stunned to move, unable to react as you watch this monster running straight towards you. It is also baffling to see that the creature is doing it while screaming and looking so happy about eating you. 

“_______! Snap out of it!!” Poppy suddenly screams, snapping you out of your daze. “We need to run. Now!” 

With a gasp, you hike up your skirt and quickly turn away. “Run, everyone!” you shout at your friends who immediately scatter to find their escape, while you struggle to run the opposite way to confuse the creature. 

Although it doesn’t seem like your effort is needed, because the troll seems to have set his eyes on you and you alone, as none of your fleeing companions catches his eyes and he is still running to get you. “Why is it chasing me?”

“I don’t know, but keep running!” Poppy continues to scream, still perched on your shoulder with her claws sinking into the fabric of your dress as she holds on tightly. 

Normally, you consider yourself quite a runner. There have been times when you would run in the woods, racing against Ada or the wild hares that would often hang out by the lake just for fun. Sometimes you would run with the fairies, even if only to see if you could outrun those who have magic on their side to give them speed. 

Yet for some reason, running seems like a struggle as you try to escape the giant troll that seems so engaged in the thought of grabbing you with its filthy hands. You feel as if there is some weight slowing you down, forgetting the fact that you have a basket filled with assortments hanging in one arm while your long skirt is dragging you back. 

“The basket! Leave it!” Poppy yells at you once she realises that you are struggling and notices the reason why. 

“But it’s for Nana!”

Poppy growls—actually growls—in response. “There’s not even going to be any part of you left to bring them home to Nana if you get freaking eaten by that—that thing!” 

As you take a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing how close the giant beast is getting to you, you realise that Poppy is right. At the corner of your eyes, you see the cluster of narrow trees leading up the hill and aim for it to find your escape, hoping that you can shake him off on a rising terrain. 

It’s going to be a struggle running up the hill, yet your gut feeling tells you that it’s worth the effort. So you make a run for it, clutching the basket tightly to your chest to keep it safe until you can find a place to hide it. 

As you slip between the narrow opening between the trees, you can hear the troll having a hard time following your trail without breaking and getting stumbled by them. You keep running, getting out of breath as you reach the top of the hill, and soon the cluster of trees opens up and grass gives way beneath your feet. 

“We’re running out of trees!” Poppy screams, getting a good grasp of what you have been planning to do. 

“No, we’re not! We’re almost there!” you yell back at her with gasping breath, and with your eyes set on your destination.

Right there. 

Right before your eyes, there stand the twin old elm trees that have grown nearly doubled the height of the hill, with massive branches spreading out to look like two giant canopies of leaves covering the top of the hill. Situated right between them is a massive boulder, firmly standing like the crown of the hill and you have decided — sometime between the hysteria of seeing a troll in this part of the forest and the terror of knowing that he is hunting you — that this place would serve you perfectly in your escape. 

Because that boulder marks the end of the hill, and there is nothing else but a massive drop of cliff with rocky walls and the rough stream waiting below. 

“Hold on, Poppy!” 

Your warning is barely enough to get your friend to tighten her grip on your shoulder when you hop over the boulder, using it to dodge the troll’s hand as he tries to swipe you off the ground. Tossing the basket to the side of the boulder with the hope of keeping it safe until later, you plant your hand on the rock’s surface and swivel around, using it as leverage to switch your direction right before reaching the very edge of the precipice and evade the troll as you roll to the left. 

“Aahhh, Blossom!” 

“Stop running and let Troll catch you!” the troll roars as he fails to grab you, and his voice grows louder, shifting into a pained roar the moment he loses his balance and trips over the boulder. 

Seeing this, a victorious squeal almost escapes your lips. But before you even get the chance to celebrate the success of your escape scheme, you notice too late that your ploy isn’t going as planned. 

“Oh, bollocks!” you cry out when you realise that the troll has fallen a bit too soon. 

Instead of being thrown off the ledge as you had expected he would after tripping over the boulder, the troll is sprawled on top of the rock, with one hand holding on the edge to stop him from falling over. And the troll—although fallen over and is struggling to push himself up—is still determined to grab you. 

Adding salt to your wounded pride, you seem to have also failed to measure the beast’s size. Even sprawled at an odd angle, the troll’s limbs are still long enough to reach you. Sliding back on the slippery rock, you try to put some distance between you, just in time for his massive hand to swipe over the rock, missing the hem of your dress merely inches away. 

In desperate need of escape, Poppy jumps off your shoulder just as you are getting off-balance and nearly falling over the ledge instead. You watch breathlessly as Poppy starts climbing up the tree rapidly in her panic while you feel like you cannot move. 

“Come on, ________!” 

Once again, her voice snaps you out of it, and you begin to follow suit, seeing that there is no escape now with the troll blocking your way back down the hill and the long drop down the cliff walls waiting for you on the other side. Right as you start climbing up the trees, you sense the troll struggling to rise beneath you. Climbing up takes quite an effort when you are in your summer dress, but all the shenanigans you got yourself into growing up may have taught you enough how to climb up quickly. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see the troll rising back up to his feet. Wobbling and swaying around as he tries to find balance over the rocky slip beneath him. But you barely pay attention to the beast when something else is grabbing your attention from not so far away. 

You can hear the sound of hoofs rapidly racing through the trees. You have been hearing this noise for quite some time already, you realise, coming from a distance while you were focused on trying to escape the troll. Maybe it even started at the same time the troll first appeared from that other hill, chasing the beast the best it could even though failing to catch up on time before the troll reached you. 

And now, you can hear it getting closer. And closer. 

You can almost see it, the white horse that is running through the cluster of trees to get to you. Yet your curiosity to know where this stranger is coming from and who might be riding the white horse becomes a distraction, causing you to make another mistake. 

You start to climb over the nearest long branch that looks strong enough to withstand your weight, hoping that it can keep you away from the troll’s reach. Yet you cannot help but keep throwing quick glances over the line of trees, hoping to see this stranger who is racing towards the foray instead of running away from it. 

That is how you miss your footing. 

Within a blink of an eye, instead of perching securely on the branch, you find yourself dangling desperately onto it, your hands barely making it in time to find a firm hold to stop you from falling over. 

“Aaahhh!!” 

“Blossom!” Poppy calls out in panic at the sound of your scream, and she quickly races back down, grabbing onto your wrist as she tries to pull you up. Only that the poor squirrel’s effort seems futile when gravity keeps pulling you down instead of giving in. “Girl, I don’t have enough muscles for this! Pull yourself up!” 

“I’m trying!”

While you and Poppy are panicking and struggling to get you back up on the tree, the troll starts balancing himself on the boulder while humming, “Come here, pretty girl. Come to Troll’s hands!” 

You open your mouth to shout back at the offensive troll with disgust, only to have another voice shouting before you can get your voice out. 

“No! Keep your hands off of her!” 

All heads snap to look at the white horse coming out of the woods. The steed races with full force up the rising terrain. But it is the rider that manages to catch your eyes the most. His eyes look fierce with determination but also a hint of thrill as he focuses on the troll. 

As if he is having so much fun with this hunt and is eager to finish it. 

And he looks captivating as he is doing it. Even more so when he pulls out his sword, wielding it to challenge the beast that barely takes notice, as he is busy trying to grab your ankles. 

But you take notice of him. You also notice the way your heart is racing rapidly for a different reason. 

Unable to process what—or, in this case, who—you are seeing, Poppy speaks first, ”And who in the Fates’ name is that?” 

“That’s—” 

There is no way.  

Your words fail you in your shock and relief. Pure disbelief runs through you, and you almost feel your grip loosening with how astonished you are at what you are witnessing. 

Because there is no possible way for the Prince Charming himself to come and save you. Just like he did in your dream. 

“Hang on! Stay where you are!”

The thrill that Jungkook has been feeling while he was racing across the hills to chase the damn troll is slowly shifting into fright once he gets a clear sight of what is happening. He watches with wide eyes as you desperately dangle from the tree branch, your legs swinging to avoid the troll’s grasp and your hands barely strong enough to hold on. 

He noticed that you stopped trying to pull yourself up for a brief moment, distracted by his arrival. Yet his shout snaps you back to focus, and he is relieved to see you pulling up, trying your best to climb back onto the branch with the help of a—a squirrel? 

Now that he believes that you are going to be safe—even if only for a while—Jungkook focuses on the troll again. This time, he is ready to swing his sword, which reflects the sunlight as Jungkook raises his arm over his head. The strong shine is blinding, and Jungkook uses it to distract the troll and pull his attention away from you. 

“Over here, you damn troll!” he shouts with a wicked laugh that will definitely give Sir Noah another headache. 

With a feral roar, the troll turns to face Jungkook. “You again. Troll don’t want to go with you. Troll want little girl for snacks.” 

A sharp, panicked scream escapes you while Jungkook marches forward with his sword swinging. The troll fights back, bending forward with his arms swinging left and right, back and forth, between trying to grab Jungkook and stopping the sword from reaching his chest—right where he would easily be wounded. 

Yet Jungkook easily evades each swipe of hands, his white horse following his command to escape and slip away while bringing him closer. 

Except while Jungkook manages to avoid the troll’s attacks, you aren’t having as much luck. Because with each swipe of the troll’s hands and each stomp of his feet, the troll causes the tree where you are dangling on to shake and sway along with the force of his movements. And it is making it harder for you to hold on, much less to climb back on top. 

Jungkook waits until the troll is fully facing him before initiating his final attack, making haste about it before you lose your grip and fall over. With a grunt, Jungkook swings his arm back and flings the sword forward, aiming for the troll’s left chest. The sword floats in the air for a brief moment before it strikes its target perfectly. 

The troll roars in pain. His hands reach up to grab the sword—which has lodged deeply into his chest—and he staggers back, losing his balance before he falls over the ledge and starts plummeting down the cliff. 

Unfortunately, the troll refuses to fall alone. Right before his fall, he reaches out, trying to grab onto the elm tree where you are hanging from as if to stop his fall. Yet his grip never takes hold. Only his sharp nails manage to scratch the tree trunk, shaking the giant tree. 

Shaking you, until you finally lose your grip. 

A scream erupts through your lips as you start falling from height. 

You close your eyes shut during your fall, fearing the long drop and the pain that may come after. Except the pain never comes. Instead, you fall right into something that is soft and hard at the same time. 

Warmth engulfs you right away, even before a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. Whatever surface that you have just landed on is beginning to move, rocking back and forth as if it is trying to balance itself under your weight. 

You are not too sure yet if you are safe, so you keep your eyes closed shut. It doesn’t matter if you just witnessed the troll falling off the cliff, you can almost feel the shadow of his presence. As if you still have to avoid his relentless attacks. 

But then a soft voice reassuringly speaks to you, coaxing you to open your eyes, “It’s okay, Princess. I got you.” 

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. And the first thing that you see once your gaze clears out brings those flutters down to your chest. 

A pair of dark-coloured eyes that remind you of the night sky are looking back at you, glowing as if there are a million stars in them. He has a pretty face framed with strands of soft hair that have fallen in a flurry mess, perhaps from racing through the woods on his horse to get to you. 

And that pretty face seems to grow even brighter when the man, your hero, smiles at you. 

It won’t be until later for you to realise that the steady rocking you felt earlier had been the white horse’s movements, as it was struggling to adjust to your weight, while its rider struggled a little to adjust your position on his lap and control his horse until it calmed down. Yet none of it matters now. Not when you are completely entranced with his presence. 

All because it feels like you have just witnessed your creation—the dream prince statue that you worked hard on this morning—coming to life right before your eyes. 

“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” The words slip out of your lips before you can stop yourself. 

Your voice comes out as nothing more but a whisper, but there is no doubt that he can hear you perfectly. You can see it from the way his smile is growing wider. 

As if it pleases him to see you so stunned, while he takes pride in this moment when he says,

“It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” 

He winks, and your skin flushes with warmth. “I’m Prince Jungkook. But you can call me Jungkook.” 

An incredulous laugh begins to bubble its way up your throat, yet not a sound comes out of your lips as you look at him, stunned, as you are still feeling as if you are caught in a daze which leaves you speechless. It was mere moments ago when you had almost gotten trampled down and then eaten by a giant troll after all, and then he came out of nowhere, rescuing you from said troll right before you ended up getting flattened into the forest’s grounds or deep into his stomach. 

And then you suddenly found yourself falling into your hero’s lap — quite literally. And that hero turns out to be Prince Charming himself, who seems to have pride as massive as the entire kingdom of Andalasia as he speaks about himself while smiling broadly at you. 

It is quite a lot to take in, and you have no idea what to say or how to react. The only thing that you can do is to sit there, perched sideways above his massive horse with his arms holding you to him and keeping you from falling, while your gaze remains locked on the deep eyes that were similar to the ones you vaguely saw in your dreams. 

Unaware of the reason why you are stunned to silence, the Prince, Jungkook, may have misread your loss for words as fear. Because he suddenly begins rubbing your back while speaking gently to you, “It’s okay. You are safe now.”  

“Yes, thank you,” you mutedly whisper, before you finally snap out of it and realise — he did just save your life! “Oh, that’s right! You saved my life.” 

“I guess I did.” There is a hint of relief in the sound of his soft chuckle, making you wonder if he was deeply concerned with you because of your silence. “Do you live anywhere near these woods? Will you be able to return home?” 

Blinking your eyes, you turn and look around to notice how far you have gone. It’s not like you had paid much attention to where you were heading while running away from danger. 

Yet you are quite familiar with this place, recognising the twin elm trees on the top of the hill which have always been visible when you look out the windows of your bedchamber. Except the distance has always made them seem smaller than their actual size, now that you are looking at it from a closer angle. 

You are surprised to realise that you have deviated quite far from your original route, and most obviously, away from home. So surprised that you have no idea what to say to the Prince. 

He asks you again, sounding more concerned this time, even if his smile has yet to fade. “Where do you live? How about I give you a ride home?” 

Before you can answer him, a sharp gasp breaks the moment between you. Followed with a rushed, panicked voice, saying, “N-no, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you should really go back to the castle. I’m sure the lady is going to be fine without—” 

“Forgive me, Sir Noah. But I won’t be much of a gentleman if I don’t take the lady home right away and let her run home on her own after facing such peril,” the Prince says, cutting the other gentleman off before he can say more, without even looking away from you.

You, on the other hand, are shocked that you have failed to notice that there is someone else who has been there with the Prince. Too captivated with your hero’s arrival to realise it. Now, however, as you look over the Prince’s shoulder, you see an older—much older, looking at his partly greying hair and his deep scowl—gentleman on a darker and slightly older horse slowly coming up to the Prince. 

“Go back to the castle and collect some men to retrieve the troll,” the Prince continues as he pulls on the rein, ready to command his horse to start moving again. He only looks briefly over his shoulder to greet his companion with a smirk, “I’ll see you back at the castle.” 

“But wait, my Prince! Your Highness!” the gentleman shouts, yet the Prince has already ordered his horse to set off to leave this place. But not before he expertly guides the horse to leap across the boulder, giving him a chance to snatch the basket full of goods which you tossed away earlier and allowing Poppy to jump onto your lap. 

“Is everyone ready?” he asks, eyeing you as you hold your basket and Poppy securely in your arms. Without waiting for your answer, he nods and shouts an order. The horse takes off, heading downhill at a rapid pace as if it hadn’t been racing across the forest and working hard to help its master defeat the troll. 

The other gentleman, Sir Noah, tries and fails to catch up as the horse begins galloping through the thick woods. The gentleman’s voice quickly fades in the distance as he calls out to Prince Charming desperately to make him come back, “Prince Jungkook! You must not do this!” 

After reaching halfway across the forest, Prince Jungkook orders his horse to slow down, and the journey continues leisurely. It seems like he is giving his dear horse a chance to take it easy while he takes a moment to enjoy this moment of calmness. 

“This is a beautiful forest,” he muses as he looks around. You cannot help but straighten up proudly at his comment. Because you cannot help but agree with him. 

Here, away from the scene of chaos, everything feels right again. The breeze feels calming after the entire ordeal. The sound of rustling leaves above you becomes music to your ears, even though it doesn’t do much to drown the rapid sound of your heartbeat. Even the birdsong has returned. The rustling sounds in the bushes let you know that the little critters have gone out of their hiding places. 

As if peace has been restored, and the upsetting event which disrupted the entire forest has been erased from existence. 

But while the Prince is comfortably taking everything in, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

Feeling your gaze, Prince Jungkook suddenly looks at you. His deep, amused gaze feels so overwhelming that your face immediately starts to flush warmly. You look away when it becomes too much. 

“The other gentleman from before,” you ask with a small voice, “Is it really all right to leave him behind and send him away? He seemed—concerned.” 

Jungkook laughs. There is something wicked and naughty in the way he is smiling when you look at him again. “There is no need to worry about Sir Noah. He gets concerned of almost about everything. Mostly about me, though.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

Falling into a brief pause, you feel the tension slowly being chipped away. You realise only now that Jungkook has been using the hand that is not holding the horse’s rein to hold your waist, keeping you safe against his chest.

“So, um—Prince Jungkook?” you speak again to break the tension between you, “What were you doing in the forest this early in the day?” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows form a deep crease at your question. “The castle received news about a troll that has been going on a rampage—ruining farmers’ properties, stealing crops and livestock from those poor farmers, and threatening to loot nearby villages. Sir Noah and I left the castle before dawn to catch the troll before it could reach another village.” 

He stops with a grimace before looking at your face again. “Perhaps I should apologise. If only I had done a better job at capturing the troll and stopping it from escaping us, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such peril.” 

You wave your hand at him. “Oh, that’s all right. You saved my life, so all is forgiven.” 

The crease between his eyebrows eases when he smiles. “You said you saw me in your dreams?” 

Your eyes grow wide when you recall the way you had blurted out about your silly dream when you had just met him. “Yes, yes I did!” you nervously admit to him, before adding with a whisper, “I—think?” 

Jungkook’s grin widens as he admits, “I may have seen you in mine too, Princess.” 

“Oh, I’m not a princess. I’m just _______,” you say to him with a nervous chuckle, “Although my friends and my grandmother often call me Blossom.” 

“Blossom. Interesting nickname,” he muses, “My mother used to call me ‘her silly little rabbit,’ although I’m not quite sure what that means.” His eyebrows crease again as he thinks deeply about it, making you realise that he looks—adorable, when he isn’t focused on defeating beasts and having fun racing with his horse. 

Yet your admiration fades when you come to a jolt, realising what he meant. “Your mother? The—the Queen?” you ask him and he nods. You have many questions running through your head right now, yet you simply ask him the one thing that seems to have gotten stuck in your mind, “What did you mean that you may have seen me too?” 

With a grin, Jungkook answers you excitedly, “I might have. I don’t always remember my dreams, but I’m sure that I’ve seen you in it.” He seems sure of himself that you don’t feel any need to question it. Any doubt that you may feel disappears anyway when he is looking at you with those eyes of his, and with a smile that makes your heartbeat jump and gallop. Just like his white horse earlier, especially when you hear him say, “That’s why I know that our meeting must have been fated, don’t you agree?” 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Is that so?” 

“I know so,” he confidently says as he pulls you even closer to his chest. “Our dreams have shown us that we are meant to be. That’s why, I think we should get married.” 

You let out a surprised gasp. “M-married?” The sound of your laughter erupts through the woods, drowning the sound of Poppy’s surprised screech. 

“Yes, absolutely. We can get married tomorrow.” 

The flutters that have been growing in your chest start to go wild. “To-tomorrow?!”

“Yes, isn’t that how the story goes?” he says with a wide smile on his face, reminding you of the smile that you wore all morning when you were talking about your dream prince. It seems as if you are still dreaming now, or that you have been brought back to your dream from last night when he recounts what had just transpired, making you think back about your dream. “I saved you from the evil monster who tried to harm you, swept you off your feet, and then we’ll marry in the castle, and then we’ll share our true love’s kiss—” 

Your eyes grow wide. “A true love’s kiss,” you murmur to yourself, to which Poppy turns to look at you with an expression of shock and bewilder. Yet you pay no mind to her, when you are in too much in awe, unable to believe that this is real.  

“—and we’ll live happily ever after,” the Prince continues with a beaming smile. “Isn’t that right? So why wait? What do you say?” 

You can hear your grandmother’s voice in your head, reminding you not to get lost in your dreams and to always think rationally. You can also feel Poppy’s panicked little grip on your dress and the sound of her stuttering, asking you to pay attention to her. 

But every part of your dreams—both from the one you have harboured since you were a young girl and the one you had last night—comes to drown everything to the background. This is it, you wonder to yourself, this is my dream coming true!

With an incredulous laugh slipping out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “Yes, let’s get married. Tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook joins you in laughter, neither of you noticing the way Poppy is now shaking her head rapidly in disbelief when he says, “Then I shall send the news to the castle and we will have our magical wedding by noon tomorrow.”

“Yes!” you excitedly say with a cheer, “Oh, I can’t wait.”  

Your chest is filled with joy and a flutter of nerves that it almost feels like you are about to burst. Things are happening so quickly, so suddenly, so soon. You had woken up this morning with joy and hope that came from the dream you had about your prince, believing that it was a sign from the universe. You never expected to have your dream coming into reality when the day has yet to reach past noon. 

But here you are now, looking deep into your prince’s eyes as he is taking you home for the last time, merely a step away from your happily ever after. 

Once Prince Jungkook has succeeded in bringing you safely back home to your anxious grandmother, he immediately races back to the home castle. He wastes no time making his way to the Queen’s sitting room, where he knows he will be able to find his mother enjoying her afternoon downtime. 

“Queen Mother, I have news!” Prince Jungkook calls out as he marches into the den with a wide smile on his face. There is an air of joy and pleasure following him as he comes to greet his mother. 

Queen Rosalyne was in the middle of arranging a flower bouquet when Jungkook rushed in. His excitement bounces against the walls, making her smile as she raises her head to look at her son. “News? What is it now, my Prince?” 

Jungkook is nearly breathless when he stands before the Queen, announcing proudly. “I have good news! I know you’ll be happy.” 

Holding back her soft laughter, the Queen sits back down and urges Jungkook to continue, “Fine. Tell me.” 

“I have found my true love. The one I’ll be sharing my true love’s kiss with,” Jungkook declares proudly with his arms spread wide.  

“Is that so?” Queen Rosalyne asks with her eyebrows raised. Soft laughter escapes her, while Jungkook has to hold back his own laughter when he notices that the Queen is saying the same thing as you did when he brought up the idea earlier. 

“Who is she? From which kingdom did she come?” 

Jungkook is so overwhelmed with bubbling excitement that his entire body is almost shaking. “Her name is ________, and she is from here, Andalasia.” 

“Really?” the Queen asks, though she sounds quite doubtful about it. “And where did you meet this girl?” 

“It’s actually an interesting story,” Jungkook says before he launches into a story time and shares with his mother everything that has happened since he left the castle this morning.

Starting from the reports about the troll and how he decided to depart at dawn to capture it, how he managed to defeat the troll the first time, only for Sir Noah to accidentally let the creature escape. Then Jungkook starts pacing back and forth as he enthusiastically describes how he raced through the forest to catch up with the troll, while the beast was focused on capturing you, and how he had saved you from the creature. 

“It was love at first sight, Queen Mother. Just like the kind that people talk and sing about in their songs. The kind that is celebrated in written stories,” Jungkook concludes his story as he turns to his mother. “It was fate’s work of bringing us together, so it would be right for me to take her hand in marriage, share with her the true love’s kiss, so our love can spread magic all over our mighty kingdom.” 

Silence falls between them. Jungkook feels nervous when the Queen barely shows any reaction. 

“Mother?” he asks, slowly taking the seat next to the Queen. “Did you hear what I just said?” 

“Yes, I hear you. I’m not quite sure that I heard you perfectly.” The Queen looks at Jungkook with a deep gaze, her brows furrowing when she asks him, “Did you say you wanted to—marry this girl?” 

“I did. It would only make sense. That way we can celebrate with everyone else as we share our true love’s kiss.” 

Queen Rosalyne purses her lips. She dislikes any talk about the ‘true love’s kiss,’ and she finds that she doesn’t enjoy it the most when she has to hear it coming from her own son. Yet seeing how excited the thought seems to be making him, as the Prince’s eyes are shining so brightly as he speaks about his possible marriage, and his smile grows wide, genuine, and free—something that the Queen hasn’t been able to see for a long, long time—she finds no reason to deny his wish. 

It seems so wrong to deny him happiness. If any, the Queen feels relieved that she finally gets to send him off into the world and give him a reason to stop chasing beasts and monsters throughout the kingdom. 

“Fine,” Queen Rosalyne says with a light scoff, “Have it your way. But you must deal with it all on your own. Have Sir Noah help you prepare for the feast if you wish to do this entire thing tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook is so elated to gain the Queen’s approval that he is practically bouncing on his feet. The Queen holds back a smile, wondering to herself, my silly little rabbit. 

She recalls how frustrated Jungkook made her when he was a child, unable to hold back his energy as he kept hopping and running all over the castle. The Queen had sniffed when she was too exhausted to catch up to him and called him out, “Stop playing like a wild rabbit and calm down,” and the nickname stuck with him—and she has used it to call him with it more endearingly—once he started growing up. 

Lost in her thoughts, the Queen is caught by surprise when Jungkook bows before her and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Mother. Your Majesty. You are truly a great and wise mother. I could never repay you.” 

Queen Rosalyne is too stunned to speak. She isn’t one to get affected by emotions too easily, but Jungkook’s words seem to have stirred something inside her heart that has grown cold and frozen after so long. She says nothing as Jungkook turns to leave the chamber, leaving her with her running thoughts and the unsettling feeling that has been growing so intensely in her chest since the moment Jungkook mentioned your name. 

At the center of Queen Rosalyne’s sitting chamber, there is a small indoor garden with a small water fountain which is made of black stone. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges of black blooming roses, patches of green grass and white cobblestones covering the ground, the water fountain becomes the center point of the space which represents serenity and solitude. 

Yet this is also the place where the Queen often practices her magic, using the secret spells that she keeps mostly to herself. She does this only when she is all alone, whether to watch over her kingdom and cast spells to protect the land, or for reasons that have nothing to do with the well-being of her people. 

By the time evening comes, the Queen often uses her spells to fulfil her secret desires. Something that she is planning to do to ease the uneasiness which has been plaguing her ever since the conversation she shared with Jungkook. 

As the day slowly shifts into dusk, and the Queen is quite sure that Jungkook has been gone long enough to be deep in arranging things for tomorrow, Queen Rosalyne summons Sir Noah into her chamber. 

“The Prince has found a maiden to marry,” Sir Noah announces upon his arrival, meeting the Queen directly in the secret garden which he has frequently visited before. 

“Yes, he had come to me this afternoon to announce his intention to marry a girl,” the Queen says, in a most calm, yet dubious tone of voice. “I’m going to assume that you have met this—girl, since I know that you were the one to join the Prince in his excursion today.” 

Swallowing hard to ease his nerves, Sir Noah nods. “I was with the Prince when the maiden, uh—fell into Prince Jungkook’s arms.” 

This has the Queen’s attention. Turning away from the black blooming roses that she has been tending to, Queen Rosalyne regards Sir Noah with her eyebrows raised. “How—romantic,” she murmurs, “And where did this chance encounter happen?” 

Sir Noah clears his throat before answering, “The Amaranth Forest, Your Majesty. It was where Prince Jungkook and I ended up after hunting the giant troll that has been terrorising the people in Sunny Brook Hills.” 

All of a sudden, the Queen’s shoulders grow tense. “Amaranth, you say?” 

The cold tone of the Queen’s voice and the expression she wears on her face draws chill running down Sir Noah’s spine. He has been working in the castle with the Queen for a long, long time. Long enough to know that she is not happy to hear the information that he just gave her.

After processing this, Queen Rosalyne rises to her feet and turns, making her way to the magic water fountain. The Queen merely stands before the fountain when the thing reacts to her presence. Immediately, the air grows cold and heavy, and it becomes even more intense as Queen Rosalyne raises both of her arms over the water fountain. 

The surface of the water ripples as a dark green light emerges from her hands, shining brightly while the Queen enchants her spell. The green light descends into the water, blending with the ripples as the mana shines in dark green. 

The Queen steps aside and gestures at Sir Noah to come closer. “Show me.”

Gulping nervously, Sir Noah comes to the Queen's side and slowly folds the cuff of his sleeve. Offering his hand, the Queen raises her sharp nails and slits the skin of his palm, causing a small wound which is enough to let a few drops of blood taint the water inside the fountain. Once the blood blends into the water, the surface ripples intensely until the green light within starts to stretch out, and images begin to appear on the water, framed by the green mana sparkling under the calm ripples. 

The Queen bends over the fountain as she is shown the series of events that happened within the depths of the Amaranth Forest this morning. Everything seems to unravel just the way Jungkook relayed it to the Queen. 

The giant troll in his escape. The Prince’s relentless chase. And the maiden who was running from the wicked troll before she finally fell into the Prince’s arms. 

The scene in the water changes when the Queen swaps her palm over the surface, turning back time to see your daily life in the small cabin with your grandmother. She can see you singing with your forest friends, and then cooking and laughing with your grandmother. 

Seeing your grandmother, the Queen’s jaw clenches with recognition.

Too nervous to remain silent, as he is unable to read the Queen’s hard expression and lack of words, Sir Noah begins to explain the events that happened this morning, “The troll was lured into the forest by the maiden’s voice, who was singing to the forest’s creatures. And right after the Prince was able to apprehend the troll, he captured her as she—” 

“How uncanny,” Queen Rosalyne murmurs almost to herself, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s rapid blabbering. 

“Y-your Majesty?” 

Straightening up to her full height, the Queen moves her hand over the water to enlarge the image that she is now seeing on the surface of the water. With a glance, Sir Noah can see a close-up of your face as you are riding on the horse with Prince Jungkook, before the image switches back to you working in the gardens with your grandmother. 

“She looks just like her. Exactly like her,” Queen Rosalyne continues to murmur gently, astonished by the sight of you—a commoner girl from the magic forest that even Sir Noah has never met before. 

“The maiden? Who are you referring to that would look like her, Your Majesty?” 

The Queen gives him no answer, and instead waves her palm over the water until the image dissolves, leaving nothing more but the calm, clear water. 

“When will this wedding take place? Has it been decided yet?” 

Sir Noah wrings his hands together with nerves. The tension has risen exponentially within the chamber. The change in the Queen’s attitude makes him wary, and he has no idea what is happening. 

“Prince Jungkook insisted on having it soon. As—as soon as tomorrow, Your Majesty. The entire castle is already in the height of the preparation for the ceremony.” 

The Queen holds back the urge to curse as she turns away, enraged, and she wipes her gardening tools off her work table. The noise and clutters and the flying objects cause Sir Noah to flinch. He has no idea what is currently going on inside the Queen’s mind and chooses to remain silent rather than risk having her unleash her rage on him.

He has witnessed what happened to those who aren’t careful with their words, especially when the Queen is losing her patience like this.

“Call it off,” the Queen suddenly speaks. Her voice has calmed down, yet there is an eerie chill in her tone which makes Sir Noah shudder in fear. 

“My-my Queen? What do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne turns to face him and snaps. “I’m talking about the wedding, you fool! Call it off!” 

“But-but Your Majesty, you have given your approval to the wedding,” Sir Noah struggles to speak, “The preparation is already underway. Everything is almost ready, even the Prince has gathered enough—” 

The Queen releases a frustrated snarl. Her energy erupts, and a few potted plants within the garden explode under the power of her rage. 

Deep down, the Queen didn’t think that it would be possible for Jungkook to make things happen within less than a day. The boy has always been hasty, and she has secretly hoped that he would stumble upon obstacles and give up on the idea of having a wedding so suddenly and have it postponed either way. But now—

Now it’s too late. 

When the Queen first gave Jungkook her approval to marry you, she never thought that you would be someone who would be related to her past. She should have been more careful and made sure to find out more about your identity first before she said anything. She had a feeling that something was amiss, and now she is regretting that she hadn’t been listening to her gut. 

How? How could this be?

Holding her head in her hands, the Queen chastises herself for being so reckless. Memories of her past come back to haunt her. Guilt, remorse, and hatred, all mix into one. And in her mind, everything blends together to form the shape of your face. 

The face that she wishes so desperately to forget. 

“Fine. Then I shall do it myself,” the Queen finally says with an eerie calmness in her voice. 

“My Queen? What—what do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne looks at her loyal aide once more and raises her chin. “I’ll make sure the wedding never happens. My son can marry, as long as it’s not with her,” she says as she slowly walks closer to Sir Noah, who can only stare at her with his eyes widening in fear. 

“And you are going to help me make it happen, wouldn’t you?” the Queen whispers to him as she gently places the tip of her finger on Sir Noah’s chin, forcing him to only look at her eyes, unable to move or look away. 

Gulping hard, Sir Noah quickly nods his head and faintly whispers, “Yes, my Queen.” 

The steady rocking of the carriage taking you to the castle should have been able to soothe your anxiety. Maybe lull you to sleep, even. 

Yet you have been too anxious that your eyes remain wide. Your hands continue to fidget on your lap and trace along your wedding dress. Not that you have no faith in yourself about the dress. But focusing on making sure that you haven’t missed a seam feels better than looking out the window and focusing on how close you are getting to your destination. 

Soon enough—much sooner than expected—the carriage stops with a jolt. The rough sound of cobblestones cracking under the wheels snaps you back to focus, forcing you to raise your head just as a royal guard opens the door for you.

“Welcome to Castle Andalasia.” 

Clutching the skirt of your wedding dress, you slowly step out of the carriage. Yet you fail to take notice of how tense your body has gotten. Your muscles have grown so stiff that your steps become clumsy, causing you to lose your footing. 

“Oh, my!” 

Barely catching yourself from falling, a nervous giggle escapes you as you straighten yourself up before anyone can step up to help. “I’m fine, so sorry.” 

The royal guard steps away, leaving you alone with your little friends who have decided to keep you company, all jumping out of the carriage to surround you. 

Standing at the castle's threshold, just a few steps away from entering through the main gate, you feel as if you are walking into a dream. There is a giddy feeling rushing through your body that is hard to shake. The urge to pinch yourself is also strong, yet there is nothing that you can do but clutch your skirt tighter until you feel pain in your palms to know that this is real. 

That you are now standing right in front of the castle. 

The castle.

The place where Queen Rosalyne resides with Prince Charming and her loyal aides. And you are not here simply to come for a formal visit like other common people would do to seek an audience with the Queen to confide about their problems. You are here today for the wedding. 

And it will be your wedding. 

It still hasn’t truly sunk in yet that you are to be married to Prince Charming. To marry Prince Jungkook, who is loved by everyone in Andalasia for his heroic actions in defeating all the beasts and monsters posing threats to the kingdom. 

Before proceeding further, you take a moment to turn around, taking one final look at yourself through the reflection you see on the glass window of your carriage. 

Pride blooms within as you look at your wedding dress. The dress is immaculate, handcrafted by your own talented hands since the moment your wedding date was made official and your loving grandmother gave her blessings. Despite her misgivings on your upcoming wedding day, your grandmother stayed up with you, assisting you as you spent all night creating this dress. 

Looking at yourself, you must admit that this dress is your true masterpiece.

The bodice of the dress is made of delicate lacework that hugs your figure perfectly while hiding your flaws. The floral patterns on the bodice represent the beauty of the forest and your lovely garden back home perfectly, intertwining and cascading down your form like fresh vines with wildflowers blooming at every tip. 

The lace, meticulously stitched by your own hands, is filled with every drop of hope and love that you harbour for the happily ever after that you have dreamed about for as long as you can remember. 

From your shoulders, down to your arms, a similar ensemble of delicate lacework covers your skin in a comforting fit, adding modesty and elegance to your dress which seems presentable for your special day at the castle.  

From the waist, the fabric flows down like a river of light, billowing into a skirt that trails down to your ankles, rippling in subtle waves with each step that you take. Layers of soft, finely crafted tulle form the skirt to create an illusion of a cloud, making it seem as if you are floating as you slowly turn and twirl to see yourself in every angle. 

Around your shoulders, a veil made of the finest gossamer falls in a delicate cascade down to your back, instead of acting like a cover to shield your face from view. You have the veil fastened to your hair, which is styled in a fancy yet simple twisted bun. Tiny pearls and crystals in different sizes and shapes are woven into the fabric of the veil, and they sparkle like dewdrops under the soft glow of the bright sunlight. 

Growing even more tense with nerves, your hands continue to clench and unclench around your dress, feeling lost with nothing else to hold on to. You wish that your grandmother had been fit enough to be here so you could hold her hand for support, yet you force that thought away, knowing that she hasn’t been well enough to travel far from home. Much less to walk you down the aisle to give you away to the Prince. 

“Stop that right now before you ruin your dress,” Poppy suddenly scolds you, slapping the back of your hands until you let go from where she is perched on the side of the carriage. 

“Here,” she says, shoving a small bouquet of flowers—filled with a collection of wildflowers, carnations, and baby’s-breath—into one of your hands while Brew, the wild badger, and the white bunnies run around the skirt of your dress as they shove a glowing tiara into your other hand.

“Put this on your head, Blossom,” they sing together cheerfully, forcing you to lean down as you accept their little gift and gently place it on the crown of your head. 

“Thank you, my sweet little angels. I don’t know what I would do without you,” you whisper with a content sigh, feeling your nerves calming down as you look at your little friends.  

Your eyes meet Poppy’s worried gaze as she sighs. “Are you really sure about this, ______?” 

Smiling at your friend, you bend down to match her gaze. You know that Poppy has been feeling unsure about all of this. She may have kept her words to herself when the two of you were on your ride home with Prince Jungkook yesterday, yet you could still sense her concern along the way. She has also voiced her concerns about how quickly everything is unfolding, yet she did nothing to stop you from carrying on with this wedding plans when you showed how hopeful and confident you were with your decision. 

Even your grandmother had been worried when you first came home with the news. Yet the Prince was there with you when he asked for her permission to marry you, which melted her heart a little that she had no other choice but to let you go. 

“I am sure. What are the odds that I was to meet with Prince Charming the morning after I dreamt about him? It was definitely a sign from fate, which I must follow if I want to find my happily ever after. Surely, you’d understand.”

You said the same thing last night, when Poppy was there to help you finish your wedding dress. The same thing you also said to your grandmother once Prince Jungkook left to return to the castle, reassuring her that fate wouldn’t have given you the signs if this wasn’t meant to be.

“I do. I’m happy for you,” Poppy says with a small smile, “But you must promise me that you’ll never leave us behind and forget about us.” 

“Never. The forest will always be my home. I’m sure Prince Jungkook is open to helping me make arrangements so I can still spend time with you,” you gently reassure her, “And for me to visit grandmother too from time to time.” 

Poppy shakes her head and shrugs. “All right, if you say so,” she says, finally giving in, “What are you waiting for, then? It’s time to go.” 

Your other forest friends who have been silent while watching you and Poppy going back and forth about the wedding are now cheering for you to go. “Let’s go, Blossom! Go!” 

Their positive energy quickly rubs on you. It helps build up your excitement. A bubble of laughter comes out of you as you feel every bit of your apprehension being chipped away. 

“All right, I’m ready!” you shout, inciting more cheers from your friends. “Let’s go watch me get married!” 

Hiking up your skirt just enough so you won’t be stepping on the hem, you turn and start to track down the pathway leading to the main gate of the castle, carrying with you a new determination and your little friends shadowing your footsteps.

At the main gate, you are welcomed by a familiar face. Standing right before the gate is Sir Noah, still looking as graceful as how you remember him. Wearing a royal suit in dark plum colours and gold linings, his greying hair neatly combed back instead of falling down his face, he looks just like any royal advisor would. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you coming near, and you greet him with a curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Sir Noah.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome to Castle Andalasia,” he says in return. As you straighten back up, you see him looking around you while looking confused. “Are you, perhaps—on your own? Do you not have anyone with you today?” 

Smiling ruefully, you slowly shake your head. “I no longer have any family other than my grandmother,” you answer with a soft voice. “It’s unfortunate that my grandmother isn’t doing well and she couldn’t travel far in a carriage.” 

Something flashes in Sir Noah’s gaze—surprise, pity, sadness, and an odd look of guilt, although you cannot understand why he would feel so guilty about hearing this—before his expression clears to normal. 

“But, there is nothing to worry about,” you cheerfully add, “because I have my friends here with me to witness this wonderful moment.” 

Sir Noah raises his eyebrows while your friends release a loud cheer. Yet Sir Noah quickly clears his throat and shakes his head. “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your friends will have to enter separately. They are guests, after all, and you might need time to finish preparing.”

While your friends express their displeasure with a series of protesting sounds, you keep a smile on your face to change Sir Noah’s mind. “Oh, but—these friends can help me get ready for the ceremony,” you let out a nervous laugh as you try to convince him, “They were the ones who helped me make this dress too.” 

“And they’ve done a marvellous job,” Sir Noah smoothly says, “But I can assure you that our palace maids will be able to help you, and it will be better for your friends to simply enjoy the ceremony as guests, don’t you agree?” 

Right beside you, Poppy stares at Sir Noah with a scowl on her face. Yet she also sees you getting nervous again because of the sudden change of circumstances. That is why—reluctant as she is to leave you—Poppy masks her emotions and turns to help calm you down. 

“It’s okay, Blossom. I’m sure Prince Jungkook has ordered the palace maids to assist you. We’ll be seeing you later inside, okay?” 

Still feeling unsure, you eventually agree. “Okay,” you murmur to Poppy before turning to Sir Noah, “But Poppy will be the one walking me down the aisle in my grandmother’s place.” 

Sir Noah barely hides his displeasure this time. With his jaw clenched, he releases a sigh and says, ”Fine. That can be arranged. But you really should go now, or else, you’ll be late for your own wedding.” 

“Oh, right! Absolutely.” 

Finally, with a deep sigh of relief, Sir Noah steps aside to let the royal guards open the main gate for you to enter. “Follow this path right here to enter the royal garden, and someone will see you to show you where to go,” Sir Noah instructs you while gesturing towards the long-winded stone-covered pathway leading you towards the maze-like garden. With lines of green hedges on either side of the pathway and a wooden arch-shaped pergola covered in vines waiting for you halfway into the garden. 

“Okay, here we go,” you whisper to yourself, saying it with a clear mind as a self-pep talk before you start walking again. 

With your hands holding your skirt up, your head held high, and a long, deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat, you begin to walk down the pathway towards the center of the garden where the wedding ceremony is about to be held. 

While you keep getting further away from your friends, Poppy cannot find it in her to look away. Call it a gut feeling, but the poor squirrel feels uneasy about letting you go off on your own. But she doesn’t really have a choice now, does she? 

She is no longer in the forest where she gets to call the shots, and this shady old man next to them is the one controlling the situation. 

Poppy throws a side glance at the man who you called as Sir Noah. “So where are we supposed to go?” 

The smile that Sir Noah gives her then brings chill through her tiny body. “Come with me.” 

The group of little animals look at each other before they follow Sir Noah through a separate pathway. Here, the path is covered with a rougher kind of gravel, and the vines and hedges look more unkempt. The further they walk, the closer they huddle together in fear, while Sir Noah barely cares to soothe their worries. 

Even his warm welcome earlier has shifted. He acts more cold with the animals and is even rough when he sends the royal guards away. 

They continue to walk until an iron gate appears down the pathway. It looks a bit rusty, and Poppy has an odd feeling about all of this when she sees Sir Noah pulling out a key from his pocket. 

The iron gate creeks heavily when he opens it, causing all the animals to grimace. “You can enter through this gate,” Sir Noah gestures toward the other side of the gate, and every inch of her muscles fight back to stop Poppy from walking forward.

“Where are you leading us to?” she snaps, and Sir Noah’s expression darkens. 

“Are you insinuating that I’m separating you from the maiden?” 

Brew, now shaking in fear, innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “But this isn’t the way to the royal garden.” 

Your forest friends may not have had any experience visiting the castle, but they are wild animals from the forest, capable of telling the difference between the well-kept garden and the wild. Beyond the iron gate, the air flows differently. The grasses are thicker, and they can all smell the scent of the muddy lake from all the way here. 

“You are sending us away from the castle,” Poppy growls, absolutely pissed off that the one that you have trusted to take care of your friends is doing this behind your back. 

Sending them away from you, from the wedding, and back out there into the wild. 

“What is going on? Is _____ even safe?” 

“What are you planning to do?” 

Poppy’s little friends begin to protest once they also sense that something is wrong, while the scowl on Sir Noah’s face deepens. “Oh, bollocks. You are too loud,” he snaps. All so suddenly, he lifts a massive shovel that seems to come out of nowhere and starts swinging it towards Poppy and her friends, forcing them to run towards the opened gate before they can get hurt. 

“Now, shoo! Get out of here!” he shouts between each swing. 

Once every single one of your little friends is out the gate, Sir Noah throws the shovel away and closes the iron gate. The sound of the lock being latched back in place pierces through the animals’ chests. 

“Nooooo!” 

“Blossom!” 

Some of them begin snarling and growling, even if they are completely powerless against the tall, elegant, yet evil human before them. 

“What about Blossom?” Brew asks while shaking, both in fear and rage, “What’s going to happen to our friend?” 

Sir Noah leans down, showing his evil smirk as he peeks through from between the iron bars. “Don’t worry about your friend. We’ll make sure that she’s in good hands.” 

With his evil laugh, Sir Noah turns away, leaving your frightened animal friends behind. 

“Where is the Prince? I know that Prince Jungkook will never stand for this!” Poppy shouts in her last effort to threaten Sir Noah, only for the latter to ignore her words, and the sound of his laughter continues to echo further away before he disappears into the royal garden. 

At the depth of the royal garden, you find yourself getting lost. 

It turns out that this place is a maze, confirming your first suspicion when you first laid eyes on the winding pathway disappearing between the tall green hedges. The deeper you walk into the garden, the higher the hedges grow, and the thicker the trees and bushes around you become. The variety of flowers can’t help much to show you where you are, since everything looks the same no matter where you go. 

While worrying about not being able to find your way, you also worry about your friends. You wish you had insisted on having Poppy come with you. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel so alone and she could help you find the way by using her sharp senses. 

Will they be alright, you wonder as you think about your furry friends. But knowing that they are in the hands of Sir Noah gives you some peace of mind. Surely, the kind gentleman will be able to help and keep them safe. Right? 

But speaking of Sir Noah—

I thought he said that someone would come to see me and show me the way. But where are they? 

You have been walking for a while, yet there is nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. It seems odd to think that the royal garden will be this empty, especially with a wedding happening this afternoon. 

Turning at a corner, you find yourself at an opening between the maze. A small gazebo is placed at the center with wooden benches inside. Your exhaustion draws you towards it, and with your eyes focused on the benches that seem comfortable for you to sit on, you don’t notice it when a movement suddenly happens from nearby. 

The rustling sound of the bushes is the only warning that you get before someone suddenly emerges from the shadows.

“Aaahh!” you scream in fear, while the figure before you quickly apologises. 

“Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry, dearest,” an old woman’s voice speaks to you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Eyes still widened in fear, you look at the person before you. Instead of a royal guard or a palace maid, you are met with an old woman wearing a long dress in an earthly colour under a worn-out cloak that hangs to the ground. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a harmless mistake. Are you—are you from around here? I think I’ve gotten lost. I’m supposed to be at the wedding spot by now, but I haven’t seen anyone.” 

The old woman smiles. “Oh, you poor thing. His Highness the Prince should’ve done better to prepare a guard for his bride,” she complains, tsk-ing her tongue and shaking her head with disappointment. “Maybe I can help guide you there? This old hag may not look it, but I do know my way around the castle like the back of my hand.” 

Perhaps, it would have been best if you were wary of an unknown stranger suddenly offering help during dire times. Yet you are quickly reminded of your grandmother waiting back home and think nothing of the old woman who is offering her assistance so kindly. 

“Please, if you may. I don’t want to be late for my own wedding,” you answer her with a relieved sigh. 

“Excellent. Come along, then,” the cloaked woman turns and starts moving towards a different pathway with confident strides. You begin to believe that you are making a good decision then. 

“You look nervous, dear. Is everything okay? I’m sure you're excited about the wedding, aren’t you?” she asks after you walk with her for a moment longer, surprising you that she notices.

Because you are nervous. Only that it has been suppressed under your worries while you were getting lost in the maze earlier. 

“I actually am, if I must admit. Both nervous and excited,” you answer as the flutter in your chest grows wild all of a sudden. “To think that in a matter of minutes, the Prince Charming and I are going to—” your voice falters with nerves, “That we’re going to have our—” Thinking about what is going to happen causes your heartbeat to race, making it hard for you to breathe, to speak, that when you speak next, it almost feels like you are listening to yourself from a far distance away, “We are going to have our true love’s kiss.” 

It feels too surreal to think that it is finally happening. Your dreams are coming true. Even saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make it real. Stunned at how your life is changing so rapidly, you come to a halt. 

“I am most happy for you, my dear. But surely you can’t go into your wedding without going through the old tradition of the castle,” the old woman speaks again with joy—as if she is truly happy for you.

“The old tradition?” you ask, confused. Because you are quite sure that you know everything that you need to know about any kind of wedding tradition within the kingdom, and you are not sure if you are missing anything. 

“Why—to visit the magic fountain, of course,” the woman explains nonchalantly. “All brides would go to the magic fountain and make their final wish, hoping for their happily ever after before they are to wed. The fountain has magic spells, you see, to make sure that your wish is to be granted and for everything to go well until the end.” 

“My—wish?” 

“Yes. Your wish,” she says. The smile that the old woman shows you as she turns to face you brings a shudder to your skin. It is an indescribable feeling. Yet you brush it off, telling yourself that maybe your nerves are acting up again. “Do you have a wish, sweetheart?” 

“I wish,” you find yourself answering, “that we’ll live happily ever after.”

Because that is the only wish that would make sense, after all. Who wouldn’t want to find their happy ever after? While you are so close to having it, deep down, this is what you have been wishing for since you were a little girl and you want nothing to come your way from getting it.

“Then you should pray for your wish to make sure you’ll have it fulfilled, don’t you agree?” the old woman asks you in the most tempting way that you cannot find it in you to say no to. When she sees that you don’t seem convinced enough to follow her, she immediately adds, “It’s not too far from here, and it’ll take only a few seconds, so you won’t be late for your wedding. I promise.”

“You’re right,” you say to her, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “Besides, it would be wrong for me to skip a tradition on my special day.” 

“Good girl,” she says. For a brief moment, you believe that her voice oddly changes. Yet you pay no attention to it as she already begins moving—suspiciously quickly, for an old woman wearing a long, heavy cloak—through the maze again, giving you no other choice but to follow her close behind. 

It doesn’t take long before you emerge into another opening. This time, it seems like you have reached the far end of the garden, and right before your eyes stands the fountain that the kind old woman mentioned earlier. 

“Here it is, the magic wishing fountain,” she says as she steps aside, allowing you to have a good look at the fountain.  

And what you see right in front of your eyes leaves you completely lost for words.

“It’s—beautiful,” you muse softly, admiring the beautiful fountain that you have never once seen before. 

The magic fountain is placed deliberately at what seems to be the heart of the royal garden, right where the sunlight is filtered through a canopy of emerald leaves, giving it a mellow, yet romantic atmosphere. 

Surrounded by cobblestone pathways and vibrant flower beds, the water fountain stands elegantly between the wall of green around you. It is not made in a grand, ostentatious structure, but a modest creation which seems like it was naturally formed between the green hedges and lush trees, almost blending into the solid castle wall that spreads wide through the royal garden. 

The base, crafted from gleaming white marble, frames a pool of crystal-clear water which ripples gently from the center. The intricate design of the marble stone makes it seem like a bed of white flowers emerging from the ground, delicate and sturdy at the same time, instead of a stiff rock which made up the small fountain your grandmother built back home. 

The marble stone frame at the base goes all the way to the back, blending into the contrasting dark wall made of natural stones. You can vines of wild ivy growing from the top of the wall, extending down to the back of the circular pool filled with fresh water. 

The dark wall rises to the very top, where crystal-clear water cascades down from a seemingly mysterious source. To your eyes, it looks like a small replica of the natural waterfall from the heart of the Amaranth Forest, your secret sanctuary that not even your grandmother has ever been to before. 

The fountain's waterfall sparkles in a silver glow that looks ethereal to your eyes, casting a soft, shimmering light as it spills down to the pool of water underneath. The pool water also exudes a silvery luminescence that is almost blinding, yet you find yourself unable to look away. 

There is something about the fountain that keeps drawing you in. A tightness forms in your chest while you are drawn to the mesmerising sight of the water fountain that looks more like it was crafted by nature instead of manmade. It seems to be reminding you of the forest, helping you forget where you are for a brief moment and taking away all of your worries at the same time. 

The soothing sound of the trickling water feels entrancing, calming every nerve-ending, every tension in your body which has grown since you left home. 

Standing this close to it, you can almost feel it, the magic that comes from the spilling water, beckoning you to reach out for it. 

Too immersed in the water fountain and its spellbinding magic, everything around you seems to fade away. Every other sound becomes nothing but white noise, and the presence of the stranger beside you becomes nothing more but a shadow looming close by. You barely notice when she slowly begins to move away. Her voice starts fading in and out through your senses, alluring you in an oddly enchanting way.

Just like a spell would. 

At times like this, Poppy wishes that she has wings instead of these flimsy paws.

She also regrets not having her winged friends—the twin sparrows, the doves, and the little hummingbirds—with them this afternoon so she could ask them for help. But they hadn’t been pleased to make the long trip to the castle, and someone had to stay behind to watch over your sick grandmother and help her around the cabin. 

Yet she pushes aside those thoughts for now, focusing on climbing up the wild vines to reach the top of the outer walls of the castle instead. She is hoping that being high enough from the ground will help her find out where you are, to see if you are safe or if Sir Noah is putting you in harm’s way. Maybe she can also find Prince Jungkook and let him know what had happened.

Poppy has no idea what is going on and why things are turning this way. She can only hope that Prince Jungkook has nothing to do with this. However, she does have a suspicion about a certain someone who might have planned this whole thing up to ruin your and Prince Jungkook’s wedding. 

The only thing that she can’t understand is — Why? Why would anyone do this?

Poppy is out of breath when she is finally at the top of the wall. Now that she is high enough, she can see the outer area where she and her friends had been discarded to — the small lake that is surrounded by trees in various odd shapes, unkempt bushes and grass, with growing wildflowers that are scattered in all visible corners that she can see from up high.

On the other side of the walls, the garden looks like a massive maze, but way more well-maintained and luxurious — except for the small area beyond the locked iron gate that seems to be neglected compared to other parts of the garden. 

Yet Poppy doesn’t waste any more time idling by. She isn’t here to watch the scenery and marvel at it, after all. Once she manages to catch her breath and calm down, she takes one last glance and her other friends who are waiting for her on the ground and launches into a sprint, tracing the top of the wall with a steady run to find a better spot that will allow her to have a better sight of the inner garden. 

It takes a while, but eventually, Poppy can see a glimpse of your wedding dress flashing between the tall hedges. Relieved, she starts cheering to herself. She has been separated from you for long enough that anything could have happened. She keeps going, finding the right spot with the perfect angle where she can draw your attention. 

“_________! Look over here!” she keeps shouting while waving her paws in the air. “Please, Blossom!” 

When she fails to get your attention, Poppy jumps onto the nearest tree, hoping to get higher. The new angle allows her to see what she failed to see earlier. 

“Who is that?” she wonders out loud once she notices that you are not alone. But it isn’t a maid or a guard who is with you, as promised by Sir Noah when he sent you away. 

Instead, all Poppy can see from here is an old woman wearing a cloak that may have seen better days. From this spot, she can also see the hag smiling wickedly while you have your attention on a fountain that looks to be a part of the garden, and you definitely cannot see what the hag is up to when she secretly moves to stand behind you. 

“No! ________!” 

The wall of falling water on the fountain looks so mesmerising that you cannot look away. It seems alluring, enticing you to come closer. 

But you are frozen on the spot. And for a moment, you almost forget why you are here. The thought of your wedding no longer takes the front seat in your mind when you keep feeling like you are being pulled to the fountain. 

“Now, go on then. Make your wish,” you hear the woman coaxing you. Once again, her voice seems to change, no longer sounding like the weak and soft voice that you first heard from her. But then again, it could have been your imagination, because her voice softens again when she speaks, 

“Didn’t you say that you have a wish, my fair maiden? This is your chance to make your wish come true.” 

“Yes,” you hear yourself speak as if you are no longer inside your body. “Yes, I do have a wish.” 

Closing your eyes, you look deeper into your heart and mind, knowing what exactly you want to wish for before taking the next step. Clasping your hands together, you begin to make your wish.

“I wish—that we, Prince Jungkook and I, will live happily ever a—oh!”

All of a sudden, you feel a strong push. You barely open your eyes in shock when you see your entire world being tilted over, and you are suddenly plunged deep into the water. The faux waterfall continues to flow, covering your entire body as you continue to submerge into the bottomless body of water and the world around you fades. 

Up on the surface, the cloaked hag bends over the fountain and releases a wicked laugh. She waves her arms around her and starts chanting a spell on the fountain, and a thick, dark green mist emerges from the ground, surrounding her like a cloud. The moment the mist fades away, the cloaked hag has disappeared, and in her place stands the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyne. 

Her laughter dies down, just as Sir Noah comes out of his hiding. Wringing his hands together, he looks between the fountain that is calming down—the ripples fading as if it hadn’t been disturbed by your entire being—and the smiling Queen who is silently celebrating. 

“If I may ask,” Sir Noah speaks gently, afraid of how the Queen will react to his curiosity, “Where have you sent her, Your Majesty?” 

A soft chuckle slips out of the Queen’s lips as her smile widens once more. “She is now off to the alter-world. To a place far, far away from here. A place where there are no happily ever afters.” 

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[is-the-sky-blue]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS (PT 1): GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Synopsis: When you have questions about physical intimacy Satoru and Suguru are quick to answer them.

Warnings: 18+, satosugu x fem!reader, lots of kissing, praise, teasing

>Part 1< Part 2 Part 3

The subject of physical intimacy never really felt like a taboo topic for you, especially when you were only discussing it with your two close friends and you were swimming in unanswered questions.

The very first time you brought it up was in elementary school when you watched Suguru's mother plant a peck onto his father's cheek. It was a strange sight for your young mind to comprehend as you sat on the floor squished between the two boys, backs leaning against the Geto family's pristine couch that your trio never really used, your fingers toying with tufts of the rug as Digimon played on the television.

"What was that?" you questioned with a tilt of you head, wide eyes parting as the scene dispersed, training your focus on the kid of the two lovers.

"A kiss?" he said confused, unsure on what your question was trying ask, "doesn't your mama do that for your papa too," he raised his brow, pudgy fingers plopping a gold fish cracker into his mouth as you shook your head.

"My mama only kisses my forehead," you tap the space above your brows, "I thought your mama and papa are only supposed to kiss you, not each other," and Suguru stares at you quizzically.

"My mama and papa kiss all the time though," he states before turning to Satoru, "do your parents kiss," he asks, waving his hands in front of the young Gojo's face to pry his blue eyes from the tv.

"What!" he exclaims, glaring at the boy on your other side, not catching the question Suguru threw at him before rudely interrupting his Digimon time.

"Do your mama and papa kiss?" you queried this time, watching as his eyebrows raised.

"Not in front of me but sometimes, yeah," he says, biting the head off a red sour path kid.

"Does that mean my mama and papa are kissing in secret," you wondered, the image of your non affectionate parents pressing kisses to each other's forehead out of view from your eyes seeming like a strange secret to keep from you, especially when they argue with each other in front of you all the time.

"Probably," Suguru nods and the three of you brush past it.

The second time you ask about kissing is in your first year of junior high, coddled in blankets as your head rested on Satoru's shoulder as he munched on the popcorn in a bowl he held in his lap, Suguru on his opposite side. The heater rumbled in the corner as snowflakes fell from the night sky. The three of you sat peacefully on the couch, finally transitioning to sitting on the plush cushions of Suguru's sofa as you watched a cheesy Christmas rom-com movie.

"Doesn't that feel funny," you pipe up, watching as the main characters fell into each other's embrace, lips slipping against one another, and you finally realized why this sappy holiday movie was rated PG-13, as between their pressed lips you could see peeks of their tongue pushing into each other's mouths, holding their bodies close to one another as the camera panned around, showing different views of their searing and long awaited kiss that their impalpable chemistry yearned for.

"Funny?" Suguru mumbles, "why would it feel funny."

"They are putting their tongues in each other's mouth," you state bluntly, watching as their lips part as they pant only for the romantic music to persist as they leaned in once more, "wouldn't that feel... slimy?"

"Maybe," Satoru chimes, highly uninterested in the film you insisted on watching in the name of festivity, claiming it had to be good after seeing so many trailers and teasers for the film, "they are swapping spit"

 "It sounds gross when you say it that way," Suguru gagged, the scene in front of him now making him cringe.

"But it's the truth," Satoru huffs loading his mouth with butter covered kernels as you nodded your head.

"Then why do they do it if it feels weird," you furrow your brows.

"It must feel nice or something," Satoru concludes as though it was obvious, "love interests always talk about how their heart skips a beat whenever kissing is mentioned, but I feel like they might just be sick."

"It's supposed to be romantic," Suguru scrunched his nose and you had to admit the borderline make out scene on the television did seem pretty loving.

"Is feeling funny romantic," you question, confused.

"Well they say that you feel butterflies in your stomach when you like someone," the dark haired boy states, recalling the cliche line that seemed to satisfy your curiosities.

But that was until Satoru asked, "You wanna try it."

HUH!!!!

To say you were shocked would be an understatement with the way you physically flinched at the question. Try it, try kissing, kissing who, kissing them? You could feel yourself grow slightly warmer but as Suguru merely shrugged with a simple "sure," that appeared nonchalant but the blush on his face betrayed him, your mind caught up with your body which you found was already nodding.

Kissing, you were going to kiss them, your first kiss would be with one of them, but with who? It appeared the two boys also had the same internal monologue as Satoru hummed with furrowed brows, "should we just play rock paper scissors," he questioned, "and whoever is holding the same sign kiss first." Your first kiss would be decided by a game of rock paper scissors... you had to admit that this was pretty on brand for your trio.

Soon enough all three of your fists were shaking as the murmured, "rock paper scissors," was said until three sets of scissors appeared on each of your fingers, "again?" Satoru asked but you merely shook your head with a coy little grin.

"The fates have already spoken," you teased, "we all have to kiss."

"How?" Satoru mumbled watching as suddenly the gears began to turn in Suguru's head as his foot reached out to grab the coffee table and pulled it closer to the couch.

"Sit," he merely commanded, eyes on you as he gestured towards the structure and you quickly oblige, finding yourself eager to be apart of his newly formed plan as you peeled yourself from the bundle of blankets, shivering slightly at the feeling of the cool material seeping into the pant legs of your fuzzy pajamas, staring at the two boys who now sat in front of you.

"What now," you ask, staring at Suguru as he merely shook his head.

"I'm not really sure," he grinned bashfully, "but if we all lean it should work." 

"What a plan," Satoru scoffed, earning a light punch to the shoulder.

"What else should we do," Suguru retorted, "if we share each others first kiss then there is less stress," the dark haired boy grumbled, "it's hard to decide who I would want to kiss first," it was said quietly, barely above a whisper but you caught it, a gentle smile crossing your lips as you pressed a hand to his knee.

"We can just try," you mused, "it's just the three of us anyways, no ones gonna tell." 

"Guess so," Satoru huffed "am I supposed to count down or somethi-" but he cut himself off, watching the way you began to lean forward and quickly he followed suit.

It was strange to say the least, two pairs of lips on your own as the three of you kissed, a little triangle of mouths. Your eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the feeling, slightly scared what you'd see if you opened them. The kiss was short, quick, and kind of weird but the warming of your cheeks explained how oddly nice it felt as you pulled away.

You felt suddenly breathless as you pulled your hands into fists, staring wide eyed at the bright blushing boys in front of you.

You had just kissed them.

You had given your first kiss to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

You might be the only person to say that, say your first kiss was given to not only one person but two. The strange pride you felt in your chest was oddly satisfying.

"What now," Satoru was the first to break the silence and you couldn't keep yourself from staring at his lips as he spoke, mesmerized.

"You two kiss first," you mumble out, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him and you could feel the anticipation in your gut grow as they stared at each other with flushed faces.

"Us two," Suguru murmured, entranced by his friend's eyes before turning to you, "why?"

"I want to watch," you admit shamelessly, adjusting your position as you sat comfortably on the table, enjoying the sight of the two boys on the couch who grew warm at your confident words, but the way Suguru slid his hand to cup Satoru's cheeks had you growing warm.

His finger brushed over his pink skin, holding his head in both his hands, keeping him still as they stared at each other intently and you could see Satoru's adam's apple bob ever so slightly as Suguru took the initiative, head moving closer before their lips melded, and your eyes refused to blink, scared to miss a single second as you watched your best friends kiss each other gently.

It lasted a couple seconds and you drank up every second, their lips didn't move like in the film, tongues didn't dance and part of you wanted to speak up about it, mention how they were doing it incorrectly, but you couldn't, it didn't feel right to comment as you watched the way their chest heaved as they panted into each other's mouth as they pulled away.

Instead you merely queried, "did it feel good," and Suguru turned his hooded eyes to you, hand carefully making it's way to your face and you found anticipation begin to grow.

"Why don't you see for yourself."

Quickly you fell into him, eyes shutting as you let him kiss you and you could feel yourself understanding why they couldn't bring themselves to press their tongues inside like the actors had done in the movie, the rush of adrenaline and pure excitement his lips elicited had you clenching your fists as you leaned against him, you felt like a ball of nerves, scared to mess up but the small area where the two of you connected slowly began to soothe you.

God was your face hot.

You pulled away breathless, closed eyes opening to Suguru's smug smile as he tossed your question back at you, "did it feel good," and you felt a strange warmth in your belly as your post-kissed lips pursed.

"mhm," was all you could hum, tongue suddenly feeling numb in your mouth, you don't think you were going to kiss like the movie tonight but that didn't elicit any kind of disappointment, not when Satoru perked in his spot.

"My turn," was all he said before he began to lean in, hands tracing the spots where Suguru once placed his warm palms, his long fingers extending further that his counterpart as his somehow cold hands held you, pretty pink lips finding their way to yours as he quickly captured you.

For some reason you believed that kissing would always feel the same, sure there were different types of kisses but you thought that kissing Suguru would feel the same as kissing Satoru but quickly you were proven wrong, even if it was through a little closed mouth connection.

Suguru was light, lips pressing yours tenderly and with this all consuming warmth as his hot palms held your head lightly, holding you close whereas Satoru was a little bit rougher, lips pressing hard into yours as though he was trying to devour you, his slightly cold palms cupping your face gently but firmly as he pulled you into him.

They were each other's antithesis and yet despite their contrasting polarities you were undoubtedly attracted to both, finding yourself melting into both kisses with earnest as you found yourself just as breathless as Satoru pulled away, his fingers pinching the fat of your cheek one last time before letting them fall to his sides.

You felt like you were on a whole other plane of existence as your lungs tried to find air, your eyes finding pretty little grins that made you splay one on your own kiss fried lips.

Over the years the three of you had shared many secrets, from Satoru confessing to the two of you that it was indeed him that had broken the principal's window with a baseball, to Suguru confiding that he had practically run away from a girl who tried to give him a love letter.

Now the three of you had shared yet another secret, but this one was far from the rest, settling in it's own little category, hiding from prying eyes, it's content much more intimate than the others.

A dirty little secret had begun to fester and the three of you nurtured it with care.

The moment had marked the very first point in time in which you grew much more intimate.

Farewells were no longer only paired with hugs but kisses to the cheek or forehead as well. Cuddles on the couch oftentimes included a kiss to the lips. Innocent touches began to grow much more common as the three of you found yourself locked in Suguru's room, lips touching lips in the space, as unlike your home, in the Geto household the open door policy was not in effect.

So behind closed doors the three of you stole not only each other's first kiss, but your second, third, fourth, and many more after that.

It was in your second year of junior high when your kisses were born from less desire and more fun, a general domestic love beginning to blossom and snickers parted past your lips.

"Orange!"

"Strawberry."

They threw out their guesses, licking off the gloss coating their mouths. "Strawberry," you nod and Suguru pumped his fists as Satoru slumped.

"How is that strawberry," he fumed, leaning in for yet another taste of your chapstick covered lips only to grumble in annoyance, "Suguru what kind of lip glosses are you buying," he huffs, "they don't even taste right," and Suguru shrugged his shoulders, indulging in your taste once again before sighing.

"First of all these are chapsticks," the boy corrected, "second of all don't blame me because your tastebuds are all messed up." 

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

Currently they were in a battle to see who could guess the most flavours correct after Suguru had given you a multi pack of chapsticks at the store his uncle ran, getting them for free after stocking a couple shelves, determined to place them in your care after an offhand comment you made about your lips being dry.

"Did you taste the flavours before giving them to her like some weirdo pervert," Satoru accused as you wiped off the previous flavour, secretly spreading a different balm over your lips, "are you into licking chapsticks and then giving them to girls!"

"You were there when she opened the package."

"You could've resealed it."

"Stop being a sore loser," Suguru complained before training his attention on you, watching as you laugh in jest, clearly enjoying their banter before stealing your focus, your eyes instinctively falling closed as he cupped your face, thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, your shoulders decompressing as you eagerly melted into him before he was rudely pulled off.

"Stop hogging her, you are going to lick off the taste," Satoru is quick to state before leaning in, capturing your lips before you could even open your eyes again. You can hear a thwack as Suguru smacks the boys back, the jolt lightly jostling your own head.

"I'm not licking off anything," he grumbles, rolling his eyes as the snowy haired boy finally reeled himself away, or rather you pushed him off, hand coming up to his mouth to keep him from going in again as you laughed, trying to catch your stolen breath as Satoru licked his lips.

"You have your guesses," you muse at the two boys, their heads nodding before you count down.

"Vanilla!"

"Vanilla."

You have to bite your lips to keep a giggle at bay, the way they look at each other is filled with so much irritation.

"You stole my answer!" Satoru claims with an accusatory finger.

"Why would I steal your answer if you've been wrong for the past five rounds!" and before you let their bickering continue, you cut them off.

"Well regardless you both are wrong," you confess, openly snickering at their widened eyes before reaching behind you to grab the container, flashing the label.

"Snowstorm..." Suguru trails off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME," Satoru exclaims, brows shooting to his forehead before he's on you, tackling you onto Suguru's mattress, cupping the back of your head to make sure you don't hit the sheets too hard before he's sitting on your torso, staring down at you. "What the hell does a snowstorm taste like," he scrunches his face, faux anger directed towards you as though you were the one to manufacture the labels.

"Vanilla apparently," you laugh, his fingers merely gripping your shoulders tighter before kissing you once more, mumbling, 'snowstorm my ass,' as he tastes it again, or rather you again.

Until then the dirty little secret the three of you shared wasn't all that dirty, you merely pressed closed mouth kisses to each other's lips, tiny little pecks at best onto your faces in the confines of a bedroom, hands never trailing below the shoulders, never taking the time to explore the intricacies of each others bodies, tongues never taking the time to explore each other's mouths.

Well that was until the holidays rolled around once more, the three of your perched on Suguru's couch as junior high third years, the very same movie playing on the screen.

"Do you still think it feels funny," Satoru chimes smugly, elbowing your side as he sits in the middles, squished between you and Suguru much like a couple years prior as he held the bowl of popcorn in his hands.

"I dunno," you murmur, the scene that sparked the question that day playing on the television as the actor's slipped inside each other's mouths.

"What do you mean you don't know," he huffs, leaning his head on your shoulder as you focus on the screen.

"Well we only really give each other, pecks..." you try, "while they are french kissing," the terms felt quite foreign on your tongue, the only reason they were added to your dictionary because of a youtube video you watched. You weren't signed into your account so the generic algorithm, yet to be fed with your likes presented an array of miscellaneous content, one of which titled 'How to French Kiss' that caught your attention quickly, and despite your brain telling you it was stupid and weird thing to watch you still clicked on it, watching mesmerized as two people went through different types of kisses, ranging from the chaste kisses you were familiar with to ones full of tongue that you had only witnessed in films.

"Isn't french kissing the one where they kiss each other's cheeks," Satoru furrows his brows.

"That is French," Suguru notes, "but a french kiss is like the one they're doing," he gestures to the movie.

"It's the one where they shove their tongues in their mouths," you add and Satoru cringed much like how he did last year when you stated the same words and he sighs before collecting himself.

"You wanna try," and you could feel a strange sense of deja vu as the events began to play out once more. Suguru's foot grabbed the table and you found your seat, as instead of playing rock paper scissors this time you urged the two boy's to kiss first and they quickly obliged your request, never ones to ever really deny you. 

"You sure you don't wanna all touch tongues first," Satoru hums, teasingly eying you as Suguru carefully grasped his face, listening to your laugh before lips splayed onto his.

You stared intently as the scene unfolded similarly to years prior, and the longer you watched the more you realized that this was far too similar to years prior. Their tongues not dancing and instead of biting back your words you blurt them out, "you are supposed to use your tongue," you state and you can hear Suguru hum as he pulls away.

"I was getting there," he grumbles, eying your captivated figure before an all too smug smirk graced his lips that soon captured Satoru once more. You were glued to the scene, a muffled gasp playing into your ears as Suguru finally parted their sealed lips, mouths moving in tandem as between their newly angled heads, pretty peeks of pink tongues were spotted. You watched as though they were a film, two teenage boys holding each other tightly, Suguru's hands cupping Satoru's face gingerly while he threaded his fingers through dark locks, their faces illuminated by the tv screen behind you, painting reddened cheeks with a frosty blue glow as they moved their eager mouths.

They were an oil painting, a beauty that you felt unworthy to bare witness to as they displayed themselves to you, vulnerable and full of desire as they slid against one another, hands beginning to wander as Suguru slid from Satoru's warmed cheeks to his shoulders before planting on his hips, the hands threaded in his hair yanking and you licked your watering mouth, their eyes closed in bliss as hums of contentment rang through your ears, audio of the movie that once played ignored as the only music you wanted to listen to was them, the only art you wanted to consume was them.

It was delicate in the way the two finally pulled away, kiss bitten lips finally experiencing what it was to kiss, what it was to love, to pour yourself into a single part of yourself, to share that love with a partner despite the labels placed on one another being friends, they experienced a yearning for more and that yearning included you.

"Does it feel nice," you muse, the nostalgic words bringing Suguru's love drunk hooded eyes towards you, hair that was once neatly tied in a pretty black bun falling in rivulets as they framed his face.

"Do you run on a script or something," the boy mused, glittering at the familiar words as he reached for you.

"Just following tradition," you hum, "after all isn't that a large part of the holidays," you smile as he begins to lean closer.

"I don't really like traditions," he sighs, "but if those traditions include you two, I'll follow them until the day I die," and he shifted closer before murmuring, "why don't you see for yourself," to appease you and just like that he was on you, leaving you no time to laugh at the sappy words as he pressed himself into you, and finally you began to understand why he placed a chaste kiss to Satoru first.

The nerves that jumbled beneath your skin at the thought of participating in a tongue driven dance melted as he consumed you, the familiar feeling of his lips that you've felt against yours for hours at a time gracing your mouth, nothing different, nothing new, your fear of the unknown now deceased as he gave you a comfort of the known, warm lips against yours as his warm hands pressed against your cheeks before he pulled away, letting you take in a breath of air before he stole it once more.

He grasped you in his spell once more, enchanting you to his whims as he angled his head in a way you've never felt before, his lips hitting yours as he urged you to open your mouth alongside him, gently guiding you in a waltz as you finally felt his warm tongue enter your mouth, the foreign intrusion not unwelcome as he helped, his roaming hands finding purchase on your hips with one on the back of your scalp, pushing you into him as you fisted the fabric of his shirt, scared to explore as you went dizzy as he drank you in, guiding you so gently as you kissed, lips glued as he moved you in sync.

It was heated, with a fuzzy feeling lighting up your brain as you focused on him and only him, his two hands that were on you, drinking in their warmth until that warmth multiplied to four and you immediately recognize his touch, his slightly colder hands running along the length of your waist, lithe fingers squeezing as they scaled every curve. You were being devoured, nibbled upon by gentle lips and groping touches as they both set off on an adventure, wandering around on the island of your body and you let them.

You couldn't help but whine when you felt the warm kiss break off, cold air rushing into your screaming lungs that you couldn't care less about, you wanted him, needed him but before you could even make an attempt for his pretty lips he sang those oh so familiar words, "did it feel good," and just like last time your fumbling mouth couldn't run, words stolen by him as you merely hummed.

"mhm," airy and light as you stared at him with desire, feeling your beating heart thrum in your ears as you felt the hands that traversed your waist pull you towards him, grabbing your attention with his beautiful blue eyes, pink lips awaiting your arrival as he grinned.

"My turn pretty," he didn't ask but rather commanded, and you couldn't give yourself time to dwell on the pet name that spilled from his lips, the name that didn't refer to you as pretty but the embodiment of the word itself, your warmed cheeks the only evidence of his effect as he pulled for you and you shut your eyes to wait, only to hear a soft, "Tilt your head Toru," and as you peeked them open you could see Suguru's large fingers guiding Satoru's mouth to yours, angling his face to the side and you could feel yourself burning, lips parting and then you could feel Satoru on you, lips finding purchase on your own and you reached for his face, hands cupping Suguru's who merely interlaced your fingertips upon Satoru's cheek.

Satoru was, much like with all the sweets he ate, eager, tongue delving into your mouth. He was Suguru's opposite in all forms as his sloppy, unpracticed lips took whatever you had to offer. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and while it was messy and far from the tender guiding kiss Suguru offered it still made your mind blast off fireworks.

He didn't guide you but dominated you much to your compliance as your melting lips put up no protest. His hands travelled high up your torso, barely brushing against the side of your boob before travelling back down, elated fingers brushing and squeezing as he kissed you, finally and truly kissed you.

The two of you separated against your own will but to your lungs relief, as your heaving chest gulped down air as soon as your connected mouth parted, but despite your detachment a single clear tether held your two mouths together,  the thin bridge connecting you two slowly dissolved the further your head shifted away.

Suguru could feel himself gulp, the lewd saliva strand that stood between his two friend's mouths doing things to his body he couldn't quite understand, the very image something he wanted to burn into his memory, a picture he wanted to frame and as he watched the two of you pant he couldn't help the tug on his chest that filled him with lust.

He watched as your form straightened, bleary eyes blinking as you stared at Satoru, cloudy vision trained on his lips and as you opened your mouth to speak he expected to hear your sultry voice spill a praise that'd make his heart skip a beat, but he was quick to put that thought to rest.

"S-Satoru are you..." you pause, catching your breath, "eating sour gummies," you question, eyes wide with shock as Satoru flinched at your words.

"W- Wha, huh, N-No!" he stumbles, taken aback.

"You are," you gasp, "you totally are!" and you are pouncing forward, trying to pat around the couch to find where he hid the package as Suguru quickly removed the popcorn bowl from the vicinity, placing it on a side table as you and Satoru begin to wrestle, the white haired boy trying to fight you off as you peel away the blankets.

"Get off me you psycho!" he exclaims, "I don't have anything."

"Then why do you taste like blue raspberry!" you yell.

Soon enough your dirty little secret grew a little bit more filthier as instead of quick little kisses the three of you entered in contact that would be considered make outs. Bodies tightly wound as hands wandered from waists, to hips, to light brushes against chests and sliding over an occasional ass. Lips were more fervent in their approach with erotic sounds to match the pace as little whines and gasps graced the room.

Kisses were often given in more risky places eliciting slight protests as you hid between tall abandoned shelves in the library, pinned between bodies and books as they'd shush you. Kisses placed in the Gojo estates bathroom as you did your best to stay quiet as to not alert the wandering workers as they cleaned the manor. 

Your kisses never escalated into anything more but the two boys always seemed to scratch the irritating itch at the back of your brain that blossomed every so often, the itch they clambered over to soothe. The kisses you shared were always heated, lasting for nearly hours as the time between each session was lingering near months as times like this came few and far between. Despite the fact that something like this should've signaled something more in your trio, should've alluded to the three of you taking the next step in your relationship, you all stayed at the title of friends, or best friends, if that made it any better.

You were just a couple of pals who made out once and a while and went out together all the time, some would say you were dating but the thought never really crossed your mind, mainly because you didn't dare think about it. Especially since the kisses you shared weren't given on the regular, even quick pecks hidden from the public's eyes, it was because these were your dirty little secrets.

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - Valentine’s Day 💕

Rated PG-13 for implied adult themes!

Oh my goodness, it’s Valentine’s Day! How will your beloved celebrate with you?

~💘💝💘~

Primo

Gives you a beautiful bouquet of roses grown in his garden

Surprises you with herbal tea in bed while he makes you breakfast

He arranges for everyone in the Ministry to send a secret valentine to an assigned person, so you all get a cute card or treat

He’s surprisingly very into theming so he wears a red robe and mitre that day, and eats lots of pink foods

He gives everyone a single flower, even his least favorite ghoul

Says he has a nice surprise for you later; lit candles everywhere, your favorite snacks, a bubble bath, and some lingerie for…certain activities after you relax 🛁

Secondo

Also surprises you with breakfast in bed, complete with one of those silver covers that he flourishes as if you just got fancy room service

Packs your lunch for you that day with a cute little note which you proceed to keep in your wallet for a long time

He relieves you of your Sibling job duties a few hours early and arranges for you to have a massage done by the Ministry’s massage therapist

He arranges Valentines karaoke for the ghouls and siblings, the setlist being rock’s greatest love ballads and also some Celine Dion mixed in

Bakes you a cake (or whatever your fave dessert is) and decorates it with pink heart sprinkles

His final gift of the day is flowers with some very nice jewelry…and also a new lingerie set. He wants to see you in the set wearing the new jewelry he got you, saying it’s a gift for him too and he wants to admire it

Terzo

His penis. He gives you…his penis, wrapped in a bow. “Breakfast in bed, mm?” he’d say (don’t worry, he offers to go down on you too)

Okay, okay, he actually comes back with coffee, cigarettes, and Pop-Tarts

Has flowers sent to you while you’re both at work so you’ll think of him all day (so all your coworkers/the other Siblings see what an amazing boyfriend you have)

Encourages everyone to leave work early that day so “you can all go fuck each other!”

Orders sushi takeout (or whatever you want if you don’t like sushi but author happens to love it) and has made a whole setup of pillows and blankets on the floor for you to watch cute movies while you eat dinner and snacks

Gives you naughty conversation hearts and says you have to do whatever it tells you to…they’re instructions for bedding you later

Scatters rose petals all over the bedroom, lights candles so the room looks very romantic and promises to make love to you like never before

Copia

You wake up to utter chaos - a burning smell from the kitchen and rats running all over the place. “Eh, it was supposed to be a surprise…we’ll get takeout.”

But you’ve already DoorDashed pancakes for the pair of you, because somehow you knew he’d be too stressed to handle everything

He’s genuinely very excited to celebrate Valentine’s Day so he can go all out to show you just how much he cares about you

He decorates his office and room the day before - all pinks, reds, and purples with hearts everywhere

He gifts everyone in the Ministry a cute little paper valentine, like the kind you used to pass out in elementary school

Says cheesy but sweet things all day, like asking you to be his valentine, making puns like “bee mine buzzzzzz,” etc.

Smothers you in hugs and kisses

Wants to watch rom coms with you before going to bed that night, complete with themed snacks

He bought you matching V-Day underwear

Nihil

Gets you one of those generic heart shaped chocolate boxes from the drug store

He also leaves a very mushy, sentimental hallmark card on your nightstand

“Why do we need a special day? I love you everyday!”

He doesn’t arrange anything for the Ministry as a whole but he does make sure to do the bare minimum for his partner

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 7 - A Thousand Flowers Could Bloom

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: It was inevitably going to happen...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, mild dom/sub undertones, frottage, dirty talk, light hair pulling and biting, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 4.3k (longest chapter to date, haha, is anyone surprised..)

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, passions between Benedict and reader finally boil over. Yup, yup, the movie fades to black on the sex scene... I am not lolol. Please skip this chapter if you want to keep your reading PG-13/12A rated. There is no real plot here. Sorry it has taken me so long to write this; I got so nervous. Still not sure I like this very much. Thanks to ColetteBronte for the read through. Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

It's a blur as the kiss deepens; Benedict’s tongue glances yours, a tentative swipe before entwining. Something sweeps through your being, throwing you overboard, tossing you into a tsunami wave, your mind reeling as your hands stay limp by your side, still taken by surprise this is happening.

“Ben,” you stutter breathlessly when he withdraws fractionally.

“Don’t,” he growls, “don't you dare use that big brain of yours; just shut up.” His thumb is heavy on your cheek as he cups your jaw. “Just shut the fuck up for once in your bloody life.”

So, for once, you do just that. Letting your hands do the talking, looping around his neck to pull him back to you. That is the permission he needs, and suddenly, you are being spun around and pressed into your own hallway wall, him bearing the whole length of his being into you. You feel like you are drowning in him. He is all you can see, smell, and breathe. 

Then, he obliterates every thought you have. Hunching down mid-kiss, he insinuates a warm thigh between your knees. Then he stands up straight, the meat of his substantial quad muscle snagging the seam of your sleep shorts, your clit mashed into your public bone, throbbing.

You mumble a curse into his mouth as his fingers locate the tab on your hoodie. The only sound is the slow release of the zip as he tugs it down and your own shallow panting over his lips as he does so. He smiles dangerously as the material parts, dropping it off your shoulders to the floor so you stand in tiny shorts and a white vest. 

There is a noise in the back of his throat as his eyes sweep down briefly, lingering on your peaked nipples, then slender fingers wrap around the crest of your hipbones and flex, indicating he wants you to move. To ride the thigh that he has you dangling upon, up on your tiptoes.

“Use me,” he mutters like velvet. “Go ahead.”

“I….” You seem almost incapable of speech, too strung out on the tidal wave of chemicals racing around your body. “…need sex, please,” aware it sounds reedy.

He unwinds your hands from around his neck and pins them to the wall at shoulder height.

“Ride my leg, and then we will have sex,” he orders slowly, a knowing smirk on your cheekbone. “Come on; you don't think I can tell how much you need it?” He places a hot kiss on your skin. “You've been aching to come since you straddled me hours ago; don’t deny it.”

Fuckkkk…. 

This is what his ex, Gen, meant all those years ago. ‘Knees weak, pussy strong’ is how she paraphrased what he could do to her. You thought it was her exaggerating; now you realise it wasn’t. It’s like he’s a different person to the Ben that you know, but fuck if it isn't blisteringly hot.

So when he relinquishes your wrists, you wrap around him again, undulating on his leg, pressing your cheek into his, the friction of the layers of fabric adding to your arousal. It feels so good you speed up, grasping his neck.

“Yes, that’s it,” he pants approvingly in your ear, gripping your hips again in encouragement. With every stroke, you bump against a solid mass in his jeans, which makes you feel frantic and impatient for more. To come, to fuck, to do everything he will let you.

“Ben…” his name like honey, tumbling from your lips in your heightened state. You are too cowardly to lean back and look at him, see yourself reflected in his eyes; it feels too much like admitting this is real. Or perhaps you’re simply worried it will break this fevered spell, that he will put a stop to it, leaving you throbbing and bereft.

“Stop thinking,” he drawls, his breath hot on your temple, intuiting you are disappearing too much into your thoughts again, your pace slowing as you slide on him. He squeezes your hips roughly to the point you squeak. “Do you want me to order you to do it?” the voice lethally low. “Is that what you want?”

“I… I…” words fail. You have no idea. 

He pulls back to cradle your jaw again, tilting your face to look at him. His hazy blue eyes are dilated to inky black, and his lips are flushed dark pink. “Y/n,” slow, sensual, rumbling from his ribcage, his fingertips warm on your cheeks. “When I tell you to do something, I mean it. Do it.” His thumb swipes your bottom lip. “Right now.”

“Help me,” it’s a desperate uncensored whisper.

“What do you need?” He smiles predatorily, his eyes sparkling in the low light.

“Hold me down; be firm,” confessing your desires. “Control me a bit.” You’ve never divulged that proclivity to any past lover, the craving for something with a hint of roughness, a light tussle. And yet, with your best friend, you can’t help but let it tumble out of you.

And perfect, perfect Ben, god, he obliges. 

The hand on your hip digs in as the other slides around the globe of your bottom cheek, and you squeal as he spanks there with a harsh flick.

“I told you to ride my leg,” his directive clipped but somehow still laced with a laid-back bemusement, “so do it.”

It's so perfect you feel an urge to shake him and yell ‘yes’ and ‘this’. But instead, you bite your lip and do as bidden, riding the rough creases in his jeans, letting the texture catch your swollen clit in your thin cotton shorts. It feels so good you shudder, but still, you crave more.

“I want to ride your jeans naked.” Again, you cannot suppress your runaway tongue.

He makes a noise that is almost feral; a sizeable, warm hand slides up your spine underneath your vest, ruching the fabric until it snags on your breasts at the front. Without prompting, you release briefly to strip off the top, then immediately wind around him again like a vine. The soft cotton of his shirt snags delightfully on your nipples, and you can feel his body heat seeping through the thin material. Moaning your approval as his fingers splay wide, touching the sensitive skin of your lower back, right above your shorts.

“Take these off,” he runs a feathery touch above the waistband, the tone gruff and challenging.

He dips slightly and backs away a half pace, just enough to give you room to strip off the last of your clothing. He has not so much as undone a button, but the bulge in his jeans makes you swallow hard as you shimmy off your shorts. He probably wasn't expecting you to be without underwear, based on the noise he makes. You are grateful you have recently trimmed (for a failed date, as it turns out). 

As your shorts hit the floor, he dives in for another mindblowing kiss. And before you know it, you are hauled back onto his thigh, completely naked, the denim feeling so perfect against your aching clit.

“You are so close, aren’t you?” he groans as your heat and wetness seep through his jeans, engulfing his quad. 

All you can do in response is nod, mildly embarrassed, bury your face in his neck and move again in earnest, making faint noises into his skin. The drag of fabric on your engorged clit is so intoxicating you couldn't stop if you wanted to. He murmurs encouragements, touch searing your skin, just this side of painful; you will likely carry his fingermarks tomorrow.

“Come on, that's it,” he encourages, shifting his leg to increase your range of motion, pressing his erection into your hipbone as you crash into him.

Over and over, you ride, getting faster and faster, chasing the high that feels so tantalisingly close, your skin turning dewy with exertion, his body heat enveloping you. You need something to make you break, and he intuits it. One hand slides up your back to grasp the hair at the base of your skull.

“Give it to me,” he orders duskily, an untamed look in his eye, twisting his grip until your hair is taut against your scalp.

Then, the other hand leaves your hip and insinuates between your bodies, grabbing your breast and pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The rush of sensation, a little rough, just as you requested, hurls you past the edge you were skating. Convulsing on his leg, he keeps his hold on your hair and nipple as you snap. Eyes rolling closed as you cry his name and curse, coming so hard the world goes fuzzy. Shuddering and shaking, him moving to brace your body upright with him as you writhe.

“That's it, yesssss,” his victorious hiss in your ear is breathy and impressed. 

There are a few moments of silence as you return to the room, so marvellously sated but somewhat mortified about what has just transpired.

“I…. I can't believe I did that,” you mutter into his skin, almost ashamed, even as your body still quivers from the best orgasm you can remember in many months.

“You were amazing,” he reassures into your ear.

“Don't ask me to look you in the eye,” you jest lightly, lips skimming his throat, unwilling indeed to meet his eye.

He chuckles, loosening his hold as he drops a kiss on your forehead.

“Are you honestly asking me to fuck you without looking at you?” he checks light-heartedly.

“I have an eye mask you can borrow,” you offer, giggling.

His responding laugh jiggles your whole body as he shifts to allow you back to your flat feet. Your leg muscles still twitching, still leaning into him for support.

“If you want to play with blindfolds, I am more than game,” he murmurs, cradling your face so you daren’t look away. This closeup and aroused he is a devastating sight, all cheekbones and blown pupils. And partnered with those words, in that hedonic tone, your insides are molten all over again. 

“Me too,” you whisper back.

Before you know it, he picks you up effortlessly and strides across the hallway toward your bedroom door. This is a seismic shift in your friendship, but as he lowers you gently onto your bed, all you feel is elation. Butterflies in your gut as he climbs on top of you, still fully clothed.

“Ben, what do I have to pay to get you naked?” you grumble good-naturedly, tugging at the shirt around his shoulders, your usual banter flaring despite this surprising development.

He laughs as his lips land on your neck, warm and plush, kissing a line down to your collarbone that is all at once too much and not enough. 

“I will get naked if you wear that blindfold you promised,” he jokes, your breath catching as you feel his chin stubble catch on the swell of your breast.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, smiling as he pouts up at you, eyes sparkling. 

The fact that the playfulness is still there makes you feel light as air, floating on feathers, him holding your gaze and slipping lower so the tip of his nose brushes your nipple.

“I was right all those years ago,” he inhales almost lewdly. “You really do have a fantastic pair of tits.” He looks up at you from your chest through heavy lashes with that same deadly lopsided smile from years ago, the one he gave you on the train, and once again, it makes you flush from head to toe.

“Naked Bridgerton, now,” you riposte with faux scolding, raising an eyebrow. 

This would have been a very effective response had he not chosen that precise moment to envelope your nipple into his mouth and suck hard, instead making you call out, eyes fluttering closed as your spine curls up off the bed, the heat and suction perfect. Swirling his tongue around and using an edge of teeth, swapping to the other side to do the same before you open your eyes. Then he kisses his way back up, claiming another fiery kiss. As you go to weakly protest again about him being too clothed, he sits up and whips the shirt off over his head instead of undoing it, throwing it aside as your eyes fall open.

“What the fuck?!” It's an unbidden but honest response to the sight before you. 

In the low light cast by your bedside lamp, he is all defined, sculpted lines—a shape you didn't think real humans came in. He laughs slightly abashed as you keep staring, raising up onto your elbows to drink in the view. You know he is in shape from the feel of his body when you hug him, but just how buff momentarily stuns you. 

“You look like a bloody Michelangelo sculpture,” you declare, compounding his coyness.

“If you keep this up, I'm not taking off my jeans,” he warns demurely, in a voice that is both amused and humble.

You mime zipping your mouth shut and throwing away a key as he leans in laughing and busses a brief kiss on your lips. Your hands map his tapered torso, revelling in the supple, warm skin and contoured, lithe muscles and the catch in his throat as you do so. You pull him down on top of you; the weight and warmth of his naked chest meeting yours makes you hungry in a way you haven't felt for years. Eventually, you reach the waistband of his jeans, circling to the front and rapidly flicking open the button of his fly. He squeaks quietly into your passionate kiss, taken aback by your boldness.

“No going back now,” you warn as you carefully lower the zip of his fly over his straining cock.

“I think that ship sailed when I felt your orgasm on my thigh,” he replies drolly, as your eyes briefly fall to the damp patch you left there, cheeks flushing. 

His bravado falters when you push his jeans down his slim hips, delving inside the back of his underwear to grab the peachy solid mass of his bottom. He groans into your cheek, and his mouth finds yours again. There is a wave of body heat as you shimmy his underwear and jeans down his leg, unseen as you kiss almost artlessly. He takes over, squirming his way out of them until they are also flung off the bed. You don't see his cock, but he presses down onto you as soon as he is naked, and you feel it brand your thigh, sizeable and hot.

“Let me see,” you almost whine, petulant.

He huffs a laugh, grabs your wrist, and guides your hand between your bodies. There, nestled within a patch of lightly trimmed hair, you feel the steely warmth of his cock. 

“Ben,” you stumble out as you encircle the heated mass, feeling a trickle escape your body as you begin to pump him lightly, a thumb swiping the sticky precum at his head, loving the way it makes him stutter and moan into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he sounds winded, pulsing under your fingers.

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry, it's been… uhh… ages since someone else touched my cock,” he rushes out, sheepish.

The honesty makes something melt behind your ribs; this wonderful, handsome man, still recovering from heartbreak, has not had sex in so long that you want to give him - your best friend - everything, a need to please him burning bright. Not wishing to dwell on consequences, what any of this might mean after tonight.

“What do you want, Ben?” you query softly as you pump his cock in your fist.

“You,” he answers sweetly, plainly, breathily, “just you.” He tilts his head and sighs into your neck. “It's been so long since I had sex that I'm not certain I can satisfy you. It’s why I made you to come before; I couldn't bear to leave you in need.”

The vulnerable admission, a true friend confiding in another, makes you crave him, this, even more. The glibness of your recent casual hookups thrown into stark relief in this singular moment of intimate honesty. It's what has been missing from sex since your breakup with Tom. The shorthand that comes from knowing someone so well artifice crumbles; them able to see through all the layers you can hide behind with strangers.

“I bet you are better than you think,” the need to reassure seizing you. “The way you took control earlier was exactly what I needed. Then there is this…,” you squeeze his cock a little, “...now I understand why Gen said she would miss you so much,” you add unabashed, enjoying the feel of his unseen demure smile against your jaw. 

“So you liked when I took control?” he queries, shifting the subject.

“Oh god, yes,” you avow, a little frisson racing down your spine at the memory from moments earlier, your grip flexing around his cock as you do so.

“Do you want me to do it again?” his cadence lowers to something more decadent as he removes your hand and traps it on the pillow next to your head.

“Yes, please,” it’s almost too keen.

Again, the noise he makes is an elixir, elation coursing in your veins. His long fingers lacing with yours, holding you down firmly, his mass weightier as he bears you down onto the mattress. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he rumbles, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below your ear. Your reply in the affirmative is a shaky exhale, a skitter of excitement across your skin at the very idea. “What was that?” his tone suddenly brusque, pushing up to look down upon you, his eyes boring into yours as he surges his cock, branding your inner thigh.

“Yes,” you enunciate crisply, struggling against his control, even though it’s precisely where you want to be, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as his fingers sink further between yours, stretching your knuckles wide apart. He claims you in a vehement kiss, leaving you whimpering around his invading tongue, the tip of his cock rocking against your clit.

“Tell me you want me,” he orders, breath hot on your face, his hands still pinning you under him.

“I want you,” you answer reflexively, as simple and true as breathing. 

He nuzzles your face, his cock sliding temptingly through your slick folds as you shudder, your pebbled nipples catching on the slab of his pectoral muscles, sighing shakily as he gently bites the shell of your ear. He surges his cock again, this time slipping lower, teasing your entrance, parting you with his tip. You inhale sharply at the warm mass, pressing insistently, not quite at the right angle to slip fully inside yet. 

“Do you still have your IUD?” he asks quietly, the domineering mask slipping momentarily, releasing your wrists. 

“Yes, just get inside me, please,” you respond, soft but fervent, raking fingertips down his back, loving the heated contours that flex as he moves to angle better.

Then, eleven years after you first idly thought of it on that drive down to London from Scotland, Benedict Bridgerton finally slides inside your body. 

A blunt warmth spearing you open in a way that feels so good it makes your throat catch, and your eyes roll back in your head. A curse falls from you as he keeps going, finding your hilt as he bottoms out. The perfect fit, just the right side of an ache as you stretch around him. He exhales raggedly into your cheek and stills.

“Move please,” you implore, greedy for more, grabbing his bottom impatiently.

“Give me a moment,” he appeals, breaking persona again, the heat of his body cloaking yours.

“Please,” you coax gently, “Benedict.” You add, almost as an afterthought, using his formal name as if to underline the seriousness of your request.

He makes a noise and lifts to look down at you. “Call me that again,” he commands gravelly, overwrought.

“Benedict,” you repeat as if a tasty morsel you can’t resist.

He makes a hungry noise and withdraws slightly, surging back into you in a way that has your whole body rolling under him with the force of it. You groan, hands flexing on his body, your tongue pressing into the back of your front teeth, quelling the urge to call out how good it already feels.

Your walls cling to him as he sets a languid but perfect rhythm. Breathing each other's air, exploring damp skin, lips meeting repeatedly in loose, open-mouthed kisses. Once again, he grabs your hands and manoeuvres them above your head, holding you down, stretching your arms so your body cants up, your nipples grazing his chest.

“You have no idea how many times I've fantasised of this moment for so many years,” he rasps, making your breath hitch with his words and a change of angle that catches a new spot inside. “And yet, this is better,” he continues, dropping a kiss in your hair.

“Same,” you confess succinctly.

A triumphant crooked smile claims his face, and then he thrusts forcefully, wringing a loud moan from your lungs, your head smashing into the pillow as your hips tilt up in a silent request for more. Yearning for him to fuck you so hard that you feel a physical reminder; for your body to carry a tangible memory of it. 

“You want more, don't you?” he intuits, pride colouring his tone.

“Yes,” you hiss, conscious he can read you effortlessly. 

He snaps his hips in response, and you feel a tug deep inside where he nudges your hilt. It feels so good you gasp and fight to release your hands from above your head, desperate to grab his bum cheeks again and haul him deeper into you.

“Nuh-uh,” he chides bemused, shooting you a pointed look, “you do as I say, remember?” 

You struggle underneath him, eyes blazing as you stare into his glassy pupils, telegraphing silently this is precisely what you want, making a show until you finally settle and curl your bottom lip under your teeth, nodding meekly as he restarts at a leisurely pace.

“Good girl.” He even winks.

Oh fucking hell.

Your pussy pulses around him, betraying how much you like that line. 

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he smirks, the smug, cocky persona he can slip into so easily fitting him like a glove. The ghost of Benedict-past rearing - that troublesome young playboy you recall from years ago. 

He chuckles richly when you don’t give him the satisfaction of a verbal response, somehow the spectre of your younger, indignant self joining the party, too.

“Don’t forget: I can tell when you’re lying,” he murmurs into your jaw, still fucking you slow and thoroughly, sliding his lips down your neck, your collarbone, down to your nipple that he bites, making you cry out. “I know you of old…” he adds, pausing for you to catch the reference.

“Shakespeare…,” you stumble incredulously.

“Mmm hmm,” he confirms, tracing a teasing circle around your areola with the tip of his tongue.

“You quote Shakespeare while you fuck?!” your tone incredulous. “You don’t fight fair,”

He laughs again before silencing any retort you may have with another heated kiss, entwining your limbs, wrapping like a protective vine around you as he begins thrusting keenly. You move with him, uncaring how vocal you are, the need for more inexorable. You stare into each other's eyes as you move in perfect synchronism, faster and harder, grabbing flesh, whispered words and endless kisses. It’s never been quite like this before.

“Come for me again,” he pleads hotly, and you can see he is teetering close to the edge now, a little vein pulsing in his temple, his neck corded, a sheen over his body where his pace never wavers.

“So close,” you vow, needing just a little more friction to fall into that abyss again.

You groan as he grabs your hand and sucks your fingers into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around them, then releases them with an obscene pop, guiding your wettened fingers between your bodies to the apex of your thighs, silently instructing you to touch yourself. Gasping and canting up into his body, your own slippery touch like a lightning rod on your clit.  He growls as your pussy tightens around him responsively, feeling so huge as he ploughs into you.

Only a few flicks of your fingers and you are hurtling towards mindless bliss, eyes closing and body going taut, then snapping like a string as you peak, every fibre of your body fracturing as you call his name and constrict tight around his cock, fingernails leaving crescent shapes on his back as you float somewhere outside your body, mind blanking out in sheer pleasure.

Distantly, you hear him following you over, his grip almost punishing as he takes a few last frantic pumps, then stills, emptying deep inside, chanting your name into your neck as his whole body shudders and collapses on top of you.

As you flop back onto the mattress, your body sated, your thoughts race. Probably the best sex of your damn life. Even as he slides next to you, pulling you into his arms, your mind whirls until your scattered thoughts coalesce into one singular truth that makes you chew on your lip and frettingly stare at the ceiling - it was too good, too tender, too raw and honest for a first time. But all you want to do is repeat it. Over and over and over. Just never let him out of your bedroom. Except this is your best friend, and you have no bloody idea where you stand now.

Well… fuckity fuck.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhelll @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheepp @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[cyanbugremix]

Let's Watch An Adult Movie! - Stories of the Shaw Pack

Characters: 11 yr old David, Ash, and Milo, 15 yr old Madelyn Talbot

CW: None; Fluff

Written in May 2024

Summary: During a sleepover, the boys decided that they were going to have a movie marathon, but they need to pick something. Of course, Asher had a great plan: they could watch an adult movie!

Can be found ✨here on Ao3✨, written by moi (cyan_bug37 on Ao3)

~~~~

“What movie should we watch?” Asher asked, kneeling under the TV and looking through the DVD cabinet. He took out a few that were blocking the back row.

“How are we supposed to know?” Milo leaned forward over the arm of the couch.

“Well if you get down here with me, then you could see,” Asher looked back. Milo shuffled out from under the blanket and leaned down next to Asher.

“What if we watch Ice Age?” Milo’s eyes locked on the blue and white DVD.

Asher hummed in thought, and then he had a great idea. He turned to David with his eyes lit up. “What if we watch an adult movie?”

“Aren't you not allowed to watch adult movies?” David countered.

Asher turned to look at Milo who only shrugged. Milo had watched a lot of rated R movies, more than he probably should have, either late night on the cable network or because it was some of the only movies his parents owned.

“Okay and?”

David adjusted his sitting position. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

David knew that if his dad had found out he watched something he wasn’t supposed to, he might have a very stern conversation about waiting to watch it with his dad so they could talk about if something disturbed him.

“Well my parents aren’t here. Besides Madelyn is in charge. And she won’t care!” Asher continued. He leaned down to the bottom shelf and slid one of the movies out: American Psycho.

“I won’t care about what?” A feminine voice asked. Asher turned to see his sister leaning against the door frame between the entryway and living room. Asher’s eyes looked down at the DVD in hand. His mouth opened to come up with some other excuse, but man, was he a bad liar.

“Ash. Give that to me,” Madelyn walked over before he could respond, Milo scooting out of the way. She snatched it out of Asher’s hands.

“What?! That’s so not cool!” Asher whined. “You watched it with your friends last week!”

He jumped up off of his knees so he could be at his full height.

“Maybe because I’m 15, and you’re barely 11,” Madelyn rolled her eyes. “Besides, I don’t want to get blamed by Mom and Dad if you have nightmares.”

Asher crossed his arms and bore his hatred and annoyance into his stare. Maybe that would get her to give the movie back. . .

Madelyn wasn’t budging.

She rolled her eyes again. “Fine. Chillax. You can watch any PG-13 movie in there, how about that?”

Asher held out his pinky, after a second Madelyn linked hers with his and they both relented.

Asher grinned and dropped himself back down to the floor. “Booyah!”

He would take what he could get.

Madelyn set the movie on one of the shelves before going to walk out of the room. She glanced at David, re-evaluating her decision. “Make sure it’s not too bad of a movie.”

He quietly nodded. With that, Asher's sister left. After a few more minutes of analyzing every possible movie, and checking the back for its rating, Asher had found the new selection.

“Okay! New plan! We’re watching Mean Girls!” He excitedly announced. The cover was pink and it looked like a rom-com to David.

“Looks fine,” David agreed. Milo nodded.

“Sick! Okay. I’ll put this in, and then go start the popcorn,” Asher opened the case and gently took the movie out. The DVD player whirred, loading the movie onto the TV screen, and soon the previews began.

~~~~

As always, I have no ownership or rights to these characters, stories, or franchises. I write this to appreciate the content Redacted ASMR/audio makes. Anything I write is not official in their stories, other than using moments from the original story line. I make no profit from this.

Please don't steal.

[lazzarella]

6 months of BL series

(Okay, my last post was way too long, so here’s one with mostly just the lists!)

It's now been six months since I started my journey into Asian BL series, and there's nothing I like more than making lists and procrastinating (with a dash of navel gazing), so I'm here to ramble a bit haha

I posted an overall top 10 when I hit 40, I think, but here's my updated version:

1. My Personal Weatherman and Moonlight Chicken tied for first place :P 2. KinnPorsche 3. Cherry Magic (Thailand) 4. Wandee Goodday 5. Boys Be Brave! 6. Old Fashion Cupcake 7. A Tale Of Thousand Stars 8. Cherry Magic (Japan) 9. We Are 10. Only Friends and Jack O' Frost tied for 10th place because I can't decide

I've had so much fun with the series I've watched and learning little bits of different cultures and I'm excited to keep going and make my way through my intimidatingly long watchlist lol It's been hard not to let other people's opinions get me down, though—I've felt less embarrassed about enjoying rom coms on Letterboxd than I have since poking my head into BL spaces, but... I don't think I'll dwell on that XD

Anyway, here are all of the series I've watched ranked by country under the cut(an idea I borrowed from @/dramalets)

Thailand (average rating: 8.4)

Moonlight Chicken

KinnPorsche

Cherry Magic

Wandee Goodday

Century of Love

A Tale of Thousand Stars

Only Friends

We Are

Cupid's Last Wish

Manner of Death

Laws of Attraction

Love in Translation

Vice Versa

Last Twilight

Enchanté

A Boss and a Babe

Lovely Writer

The Sign

Hidden Agenda

Bad Buddy

Not Me

Star in My Mind

Love Sea

This Love Doesn’t Have Long Beans

Theory of Love

To Be Continued

Sky In Your Heart

Japan (average rating: 8.2)

(Using the English titles)

1. My Personal Weatherman 2. Old Fashion Cupcake

3. Our Dining Table 4. What Did You Eat Yesterday? 5. Jack O' Frost 6. Cherry Magic etc 7. My Beautiful Man 8. Love is Better the Second Time Around 9. Ossan's Love 10. Perfect Propose 11. My Love Mix-Up 12. Candy Color Paradox 13. I Cannot Reach You 14. Mr Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss

South Korea (average rating: 7.6)

1. Boys Be Brave! 2. Blueming 3. Semantic Error 4. Love for Love's Sake 5. Choco Milk Shake 6. The New Employee 7. Love Tractor 8. Our Dating Sim 9. Bon Appetit 10. Roommates of Poongduck 304

11. The Director Who Buys Me Dinner

12. Love Class 13. Cherry Blossoms After Winter

14. Kissable Lips

Other countries (not ranked):

Meet You at the Blossom (I know it’s a Thailand/Taiwan co-production, but as it’s a Chinese story set in China with Chinese actors, I’ve mentally filed it as China)

Be Loved In House: I Do (Taiwan)

And I'm currently watching:

Star in My Mind; The Trainee; First Note of Love; Monster Next Door

On hold for now:

Only Boo!; 1000 Years Old; Cutie Pie; I Feel You Linger in the Air; Ossan’s Love Returns; Step by Step; The Untamed; Word of Honor

[juanabaloo]

Top 5 sapphic movie recs? :)

Thanks for the ask! In order, from 5 to 1: D.E.B.S. (2004) - Lucy and Amy Mosquita y Mari (2012) - Yolanda y Mari - the one movie i would show my kid self (if i could time travel) Bound (1996) - Violet and Corky Imagine Me and You (2005) - Luce and Rachel Saving Face (2004) - Wil and Vivian - the one movie I would save from a fire (if i could only save one)

[captions top to bottom: Lucy and Amy with guns drawn in D.E.B.S. Yolanda and Mari hanging out in Mosquita y Mari. Violet reaches out to hold Corky's hand in Bound. Luce laughs as Rachel fishes her wedding ring out of the punch in Imagine Me and You. Wil looks at Vivian's hair and then stares longingly at her face in Saving Face.]

Highly reco all of these! More spoiler-free ranting, worksafe gifs, and trailer links under the cut. (one mild SPOILER ... but good news: none of these women die, like not even a little bit!!)

starting the list at Number Five: D.E.B.S. (2004) is Comedy, rated PG-13, and a campy delight. I buy the chemistry between Lucy (L below) and Amy (R ), and it's a cute enemies-to-lovers story. It doesn't take itself too seriously. And as the gif text says: Charlie's Angels but it's actually gay!!!

Best to watch: when you want something campy with some fun spy action scenes. Kissing plus. Also: Jordana Brewster!

D.E.B.S. (2004) trailer

Number Four: Mosquita y Mari (2012) is an unrated Drama (PG-13-ish IMO) that's one of my all-time faves*. Mari (L below) and Yolanda (R ) are high schoolers and they are INTO EACH OTHER. You can practically see the vibrations in between them. It's about two Chicanas and it touches on family and money and immigrant stuff. (*If I could go back in time and show my kid self one movie - out of all the movies in the world - it would be this one.) There is a lot of intimacy between them, but there's nothing explicit.

Best to watch: when you want to reminisce about high school and that friend you had feelings for. Grappling and holding hands and snuggling. Also: gorgeously shot scenes that set the mood, even with no dialogue.

Mosquita y Mari (2012) trailer

coming in at Number Three: Bound (1996) is a Heist movie, rated R, and amazing. The directorial debut of the Wachowski sisters. Chemistry for MILES between Violet (L below) and Corky (R ). Also a strong crime/thriller/heist plot, aside from all the chemistry. I don't find the violence to be THAT explicit but that's my opinion.

Best to watch: when you want to see a very sexy heist movie and don't mind some violence. Rated R for a reason (both sex and violence). Also: Jennifer Tilly and her voice! Gina Gershon in a white tank top! Both of them in leather jackets!

Bound (1996) trailer

Number Two: Imagine Me and You (2005) is a Rom-Com that's rated R, and super cute. It's love at first sight but there's some angst. Rachel (first gif below, L) is trying to resist her attraction to Luce (R ). I feel like this movie doesn't really deserve the R rating. Anyway, it's cute and fun.

Best to watch: when you want some decent angst, but a happy ending. Lots of intense making out. Also: British accents! a flower shop! Dance Dance Revolution! Piper Perabo and Lena Headey!

Imagine Me and You (2005) trailer

and at the top of my list at Number One: Saving Face (2004) is another Rom-Com that's rated R, and it's PERFECT TO ME. If I could only grab one movie to save from a fire - out of all the movies ever made - it would be this one! It's childhood friends - who reconnect as adults - to lovers. Vivian (L below in the first gif) is a dancer while Wil (R ) is a doctor, technically a surgeon. There's family and immigrant stuff, and they are both Chinese-American.

Best to watch: when you want angst with a happy ending, with some good mother-daughter stuff too. Flirting, making out, intense making out, hand holding, and yes a bedroom scene. Also: authentic Mandarin! a comforting mother-daughter relationship! a race to the airport scene!

Saving Face (2004) trailer

Lightning in a bottle stuff here, seriously. Lynn Chen (who plays Vivian) had never been in a feature film before. Michelle Krusiec (who plays Wil) had never had a lead role before. Alice Wu wrote AND directed the movie, and this was literally her FIRST MOVIE. You would never guess any of that watching this movie. They all knock it out of the park!!

Any questions about any of these movies, send in an ask!

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Thirteen

Summary: The aftermath of the encounter with Jonathan.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: references to rehab, loneliness, angst

Notes: This one is more serious than the other chapters but it’s something they had to go through. Things will get more rom-commy after this, I promise!

Word Count: 4300+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites @weho2kcmo

I was still cramming clothes into my suitcase when I heard the lock buzz on the door.

”What the hell was that?” Dieter said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here in a few minutes,” I said.

”What the fuck? Are you packing? Em, what’s going on?”

I slammed the suitcase shut and turned toward him. “I should be asking you what the fuck is going on. But I have a pretty good idea.”

He just looked at me. He was going to make me say it. “I saw you, Deiter. I saw you kissing him. And if it was up to me you’d get another Oscar for the performance you’ve been putting on these last few months.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, shit … I … he caught me by surprise.”

”He caught you and he can have you,” I said, lifting the suitcase. “I’m going home.”

He stepped in front of me. “Wait. Just calm down, Em. There’s no need to go charging off like this. We have a flight booked in the morning. Can we just talk about this?”

”There’s nothing to talk about! You were making out with someone else while we were on a fucking date.”

”I didn’t kiss him back,” Dieter said. “I swear. Like I said, he caught me by surprise and …”

”If someone surprised me with an unwanted kiss, I’d push them away. I’d tell them to stop, not close my eyes and savor the moment.” My voice shook as my throat tightened. “I believed you, Dieter. I thought you loved me.”

”I do love you,” he said. “I — I fucked up. I admit it. I shouldn’t have let Jonathan get as far as he did. I — oh, fuck!” He dropped to his knees. “Please, Em, don’t leave right now. Give me a chance to explain.”

”There’s nothing to explain,” I said sadly. “And maybe we can talk about this later on but right now … I just can’t.”

”Okay, then, we won’t talk about it, but just … stay the night. I won’t talk to you, I won’t touch you, we’ll just get some sleep and try to fix things in the morning.” His eyes were swimming with tears and as angry as I was, I couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes looking up at me.

”I’ll stay,” I said. “But I can’t talk to you. I can’t even look at you.”

”Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the floor or something.”

”Whatever.” I dropped the suitcase on the floor and went into the bathroom. I washed my face. My eyes were red and my face was blotchy, but I didn’t care. I stripped off my clothes and pulled on the clean bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door. I had a nightshirt in my suitcase but I didn’t feel like going back out and rummaging through the mess to find it. I was tired and angry and as much as I wanted to get away from Dieter, I knew that going to bed was the best idea. In my condition, it really wasn’t a good idea for me to be negotiating my way around a strange city and airport in the middle of the night. Besides, changing my flight would cost money, as would an Uber or shuttle back to Dieter’s place to pick up my car. My bank account was stretched enough as it was.

When I came out of the bathroom, Dieter was sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed, his head in his hands. I ignored him and crawled into bed. I told myself I didn’t care if he sat there all night. I turned on my side so I was facing away from him and pulled the covers over my head. I’d been cold all day, and between the robe and the blankets, I finally managed to warm up. I was still shaking, though.

I’d lain there for at least a half an hour when I heard Dieter get up and go into the bathroom. After a moment, I heard his voice, low and urgent. I knew I should ignore him but the idea that he might be on the phone with Jonathan burned a hole in my brain. I crept out of bed and sat against the wall just outside the bathroom door. 

“I fucked up, Freddy,” Dieter said. I relaxed just a bit. He’d called his brother, not Jonathan. “I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed. ”I can’t … I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”

I should have gotten back into bed, but I stayed where I was. At that point, I figured eavesdropping was less of a crime than kissing another person.

”I don’t know,” Dieter said with a deep sigh. “I just … he was there when I came out of the men’s room and I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he smiled at me and … you know that smile always made my knees weak. Next thing I knew, he was kissing me and I just froze. And she saw us.”

More silence.

”Yeah, she’s pretty pissed off. Not that I blame her. I did convince her not to go to the airport. I’ll try to talk to her in the morning.”

This time the silence was punctuated by sniffles and sobs.

“Yeah, me, too, man. I finally found someone who loves me for who I am, who doesn’t give a shit about whether I’m famous or rich or making her look good and …” His voice broke. “I fucked up with Mom and I fucked up with Dad and I almost fucked up with you and now … I don’t want to lose her, Freddy. I can’t lose her.” 

I crawled quietly away and back into bed. I was crying again myself, but this time it wasn’t because my heart was broken. It was because his was. And it was partly my fault. I hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself. Maybe if I had …

He stayed in the bathroom a while longer, then came out and very gently climbed onto the far side of the bed. I rolled over to face him.

”Sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Did I wake you up?”

”No.”

”Do you mind if I …?”

”No. It’s fine.”

”Good night.”

I waited a long beat, then slid closer and put my arms around him. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” I said. 

He started sobbing again, his head cradled against my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up, Em, I fucked up.”

”Shh … It’s okay. You can tell me in the morning. We both need a good night’s sleep.” I ran my fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He calmed down a bit.

”Thank you,” he said, his voice impossibly small.

”For what?”

”For giving me a chance. For not leaving. For ….” His breath hitched. 

“Putting up with your melodramatics?”

He huffed out a laugh. “For being you,” he said. “For being real.”

*****************************************************************

For once, Dieter was up before I was. I woke up to find him hunched over his phone, tapping away. He glanced up as I stretched. 

“Hey, good morning,” he said hesitantly. “Give me a sec. Just messaging Janice. Want to see if she can work me in when we get back to L.A.”

”Dieter, you didn’t mess up that badly,” I said. “I should have given you a chance to explain, should have confronted you instead of trying to run off ….”

”It’s not that,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “It’s … I woke up during the night and I wanted … I wanted to use. Like if you hadn’t been there right next to me, I’d have been on the phone looking for a hook up. And believe me, there are a thousand ways to get hold of stuff on a Friday night in New York City.”

”But you didn’t,” I reminded him.

”Only because you were here,” he said. “If you’d left like you planned to … fuck, Emily, I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I thought I’d put him behind me.”

”You aren’t him,” I said. I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. “You aren’t. I would never have fallen in love with him.”

”It’s Jonathan,” he said. “He brought back a shit ton of stuff I thought I was done with.”

I laid my head on his shoulder. “Tell me about him. About what happened last night. I promise I’ll just listen.” The morning had brought me a little clarity. I had overreacted.

”I knew Jonathan back in the day, when I was in college,” he said. “We hooked up now and then but it wasn’t anything serious until after my mom died. I was in L.A. and everyone was all about the fucking Oscar and I was self-medicating pretty heavily and he showed up on my doorstep. Like literally, I opened the door one day and he was there. And the first thing he said was ‘I heard about your mom,’ and that was it. He moved in and I thought, ‘Finally, someone cares about me and not just my stupid career.’

”Freddy warned me but I was still kind of estranged from him at the time and I told him to fuck off. I thought Jonathan was in love with me and I was in love with him. We got high and fucked each other and went to parties and yeah, maybe his career got a little boost, but he was there for me. At least, I thought so.

”Then one day he tells me he’s going to London with a producer who’d offered him a role in a movie and a Lamborghini. ‘Nothing personal’ he said. And when I asked why he’d stopped loving me, he laughed and said ‘Love doesn’t have anything to do with any of this.’ And he left, and I got so fucked up I got fired from the film I was doing and everything went downhill for years until I was doing Cliff Beasts and waking up in a hospital bed.”

He sighed deeply. “While I was in rehab, Janice helped me see that Jonathan had been using me, that I was better off without him, that I’d never really loved him. But last night … Em, it scared me how much I reacted to him. How attracted I still was.”

”Attraction is instinctual,” I said. “You can’t really control it.”

”He and I have nothing in common except how much we want to fuck each other,” he said. “And I’m with you now. I shouldn’t have felt that way about him.”

”Feeling and acting are two different things,” I said. “You can be attracted to anyone who ticks the right boxes in your brain. That has nothing to do with fidelity. It’s only wrong if you act on it.”

”I let him kiss me,” he said quietly.

”You didn’t kiss him back,” I reminded him. “You get partial credit for that. And you came after me instead of leaving with him.”

”How much of my conversation with Freddy did you hear?”

”A lot,” I confessed. “I … I thought you might be calling Jonathan, so I was listening at the door. I shouldn’t have.”

”No, it’s fine. I didn’t say anything to Freddy I shouldn’t have — wanted to — say to you. I’m not good at relationships, Em. I did everything I could to make my mom love me and notice me and you know how that turned out. And I alienated my dad because I thought I had to choose sides when they got divorced. I almost trashed things with Freddy but he was smart enough to see that I needed help and he was my number one supporter when I decided to go into rehab.

”And you … I don’t know why the universe sent you to me, Emily, but it did and I don’t want to fuck this one up, because I know this time I have the chance to do things right. The night of our first date, I called Freddy and I told him I thought you were The One. And he told me to wait a year and see if I still felt the same way. It hasn’t been a year yet, but I still feel that way.”

”I think … you’re getting ahead of yourself, Deet,” I said carefully. “We’ve only known each other about four months. We’re still in the rose-colored glasses phase. I … I want to jump in as much as you do, but remember when you told me I could move in? I seriously thought about it, and I talked to my friend Sam and she told me to really think it through, to listen to my head as much as my heart. I think she and Freddy are right. We need to slow down a little. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. If we do this right, if we take our time and put in the work, it can last.”

”It might be hard,” he said.

”I think we’re worth it. You’re worth it.”

He put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “I ain’t worth shit, but you are more precious than anything to me.”

”Not exactly eloquent but I’ll take it,” I said. “And you are worthy, Dieter Bravo. Worthy of love and respect, just like everyone else in the world.”

”You really think we can do this?”

I looked him in the eyes. “Yes,” I said. “I think we can. I trust you, Deet. I just need to stop jumping to conclusions every time I see you near an attractive person and listen to you when you tell me you want to be with me.” I tried to smile. “You aren’t the only one in this relationship who’s a bit fucked up, you know.”

”Maybe Janice can give us a two for one special,” he said, a glint starting to shine in his eyes for the first time. “Not sure if she does couples therapy ….” His face went serious again. “I might need some time to get things straight in my head again. Might even have to go back into rehab for a little while … are you okay with that?”

”I’m okay with anything that helps you feel better about yourself,” I said. “I want you to be happy.”

”You make me happy,” he said, laying his head on my shoulder. 

I closed my eyes. “Same,” I said, the only thing I could force out around the lump in my throat. Books and movies made love look so damn easy, but this was hard. This was real. I just hoped I was strong enough to see it through.

***********************************************************

Dieter met with Janice on Monday and checked back into rehab that evening. I got a text while I was at work.

DIETER: Good session with Janice. Checking in tonight. Won’t be able to talk to you for a while but J will send updates. Love u.

Janice called about eight o’clock that night to let me know that Dieter was fine. “I can’t tell you much because of patient-doctor confidentiality, but we had a very productive session this morning and honestly, this residence is just a precaution. I think Dieter just needs a bit of a safety net right now. I don’t expect him to be in for long.”

That was one of the longest weeks in my life. Work kept me busy during the day, although it was hard to keep up the facade in front of Eileen, but the evenings were torture. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on those nightly calls from Dieter. Whether we vented about work or made plans for the weekend or just joked around, it was the highlight of my day. I missed him, missed his voice, the weird faces he made when he forgot he was on FaceTime and I could see him. I missed the feeling of connection we’d built.

Friday night, I lost it. I was alone and feeling sorry for myself and I cried. I cried for me but mostly for Dieter. I wondered if he was as lonely as I was. Outside communication wasn’t allowed during the first week of his stay, so I wouldn’t hear from him until Monday at the earliest. 

The weekend crawled by. I caught up on chores and errands, which in theory was a good thing, but by Sunday night, I was feeling even more sorry for myself. A quick peek at Facebook and Instagram showed that most of my friends and coworkers had been out enjoying life while I was grocery shopping and cleaning the toilet and folding laundry. I’d been used to it before I met Dieter — the price I gladly paid for being an independent, self-sufficient single woman — but now it just seemed soul-crushingly dull. I felt myself descending into self-pity and did the one thing I knew could pull me out of the pit. I texted Sam.

ME: Save me.

SAM: What’s going on, chickie?

I dumped it all on her: what had happened with Jonathan, Dieter going into rehab, my feelings of loneliness and futility.

SAM: You’re gonna be okay. You’ve been through worse shit in your life, Em. You should have called me sooner.

ME: I didn’t want to put it on you. It’s my mess.

SAM: How many times have I bitched to you about my life? You’re allowed to tell me about yours.

ME: It’s just Dieter’s going through this by himself. I should be able to do the same.

SAM: Hold up, he’s got a whole fricking team of experts walking him through it. You’re the one who’s by herself. 

Sam was right. I’d been trying to navigate this alone, while Dieter had Janice and the staff of the rehab facility guiding him. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed help, too.

ME: Thanks, chickie. I can always rely on you to slap me upside the head with the truth when I need it. 

SAM: Any time. And hang in there. I think he’s worth it.

ME: So do I.

***********************************************

My phone rang at exactly eight o’clock Monday evening. It was Dieter.

”Hey!” He looked excited. “How you doing, sweetie?”

”Hanging in there,” I said. “You look good.”

”I feel good. It’s been a lot of work but, yeah, I feel really good. About myself. About us.”

”Any idea when you'll be out of there? I miss you.”

”End of the week, probably. Can you … will you be able to come out to my place next weekend?”

”Of course,” I said. 

He grinned. “I’m going one hundred percent sober this time, Em. No alcohol, no edibles, nothing. And it’ll be a lot easier the first few days if you’re with me. Not that I need you to be there, but … it would be nice.”

”I wouldn’t miss it,” I told him. “And you might not need me, but I need you, Deet. I’ve missed you so much.”

”I know,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve got all this support and schedules and really been able to focus on shit and you’ve been dealing with work and real life. I’m sorry, babe.”

”No need to apologize. You needed to do this. And I can already see what a difference it’s made.”

I heard a timer beep somewhere behind him. “Ah, shit, time’s up. I’ve gotta go. But I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”

”I love you, too.”

*******************************************************************

Even though his calls were brief, just talking to Dieter every night made the next week much better. When Friday came, I was champing at the bit all day. Dieter was leaving the rehab facility Saturday morning, and I wanted to be there when he got home, so I was going to make my usual Friday evening trek to Hollywood. For once I didn’t mind the traffic (well, I did, but I was in such a good mood I was able to keep my frustration to a minimum). 

The house felt hollow and empty when I went in. The cleaner had been there to dust and sweep but otherwise no one had been in the house for two weeks. It was too neat and tidy; Dieter always left a bit of chaos behind him. 

I ordered something for dinner and tried to watch TV but it just felt too lonely without Dieter. Then my phone rang.

”Hey, are you at my place already?,” he asked, squinting at the camera.

”Yeah, I wanted to be here when you get home, but … it’s kind of lonely without you. Maybe I should have driven over in the morning.”

”No, I think … I think it’s good. You can warm the bed up for me.” He winked. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re there waiting for me.”

”Are you excited?” He seemed a bit antsy.

”Excited and scared,” he admitted. “It’s easy to be sober here, but in the real world, it’s gonna be tough. I’m glad you’re going to be there the first couple of days.”

”Me, too. I know this is scary, Deet, but you can do this. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. No matter what.”

After he hung up, I felt much lighter and the house didn’t seem so empty. It was ready to welcome Dieter home. And so was I.

************************************************

I felt like a kid waiting for Santa Claus. I was glued to the security camera feed on my phone, watching for Dieter’s car to turn into the driveway. I’d changed the sheets on the bed that morning, made sure there was coffee ready to brew in the machine, even run to the local bakery as soon as it opened to get some of those scones that Dieter loved so much. Everything was ready for him. Especially me.

I’d done a lot of thinking over the past two weeks and I felt a lot better about our relationship. It didn’t feel as fragile as it had before. I’d always been waiting for Dieter to realize he could do better than me, but after hearing him on the phone with Freddy, I felt stronger. Dieter needed me as much as I needed him. He saw me as a person, not just something that could enhance or damage his image. And I saw him fully for the first time, as a man who had been through some shit, and was doing his best to deal with it. Not a celebrity, not a dreamboat, just a guy. A guy who needed someone at his side.

And truth be told, I needed someone by my side. As much as I told myself I didn't need anyone else, I wanted to belong to someone. Not in the “I’m not complete until I have a man” way but in a “I want someone to have my back” kind of way. I had Sam but she was so far away, and she had a family and life of her own. She was there for me but I wanted — needed — something more. I wanted Dieter.

I was waiting at the door when he pulled up next to my car. He was smiling ear to ear as he got out, grabbed his bags and practically ran to the house. 

“God, I missed you,” he said, dropping his suitcases in the doorway and wrapping his arms around me.

”I missed you, too,” I said. He smelled amazing. It wasn’t just his cologne, which was subtle and spicy and woodsy. It was him. I’d missed his scent. I breathed him in until I felt like every bit of my body was full.

We barely had the door shut before he was kissing me. “There’s coffee and scones,” I managed to say in between kisses.

”Later,” he said. “Right now I just want you.”

We messed up the bed I’d so carefully made just a few hours ago, but I didn’t mind. It had only been two weeks since the last time we’d slept together, but it felt like months. Everything was new again and we took our time rediscovering each other. 

“You are amazing,” Dieter said afterwards as we lay in bed, knowing we should get up and get dressed but wanting to be lazy for just a bit.

”I didn’t do anything special,” I said. “You on the other hand …”

He shook his head. “I mean, you’re amazing for waiting for me, for listening to me, for understanding.” He toyed with a lock of my hair. “A lot of people would have bailed, especially so early in a relationship. But you stayed.”

”I had to,” I admitted. “You told Freddy you couldn’t lose me. Well, I realized that I can’t lose you. I need you, Dieter. I need you in my life. You’re the piece I didn’t even know was missing.”

He kissed me gently. “Does that mean …?”

”It means I like what we have, where we are right now. I still think we need to take things slowly, not jump into anything but … I think I know where our path is heading and I like it. And I’m looking forward to walking it with you, Deet. Side by side.”

”Hand in hand,” he said, taking my hand in his. 

“Cheek to cheek,” I said, pressing my face against his.

”Butt to butt,” he laughed, twisting around so that his butt was pressed against the side of mine.

”Why are you so fascinated with butts?”

”Because deep inside I’m still a twelve-year-old boy,” he said, batting his eyes at me.

”You know, there’s a reason I don’t work at a middle school …” I started to say, but he cut me off with a kiss that was definitely the work of a middle aged man who’d had years of practice. I was more than willing to overlook a few butt jokes for that.

[tjwritesfanfics]

Universe Ten *How to be a serial killer*

Pairing: Bart/Reader

Summary: Bart is happy to find out the cute girl, who always rents 13 going on 30 every Friday, is into the same things he is.

Rating: Mature. Descriptions of murder

Words: 923

AN the gif isn't mine, but I couldn't find one and I can't see who it belongs to. So, credit to them whomever they are!

Every Universe Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Killing has always been your outlet. There is just something about it that is so therapeutic. Really if you weren’t so sure you would be arrested, you would encourage everyone you met to just do a little killing. Dip your toes in the water and just see how freeing it can be.

Honestly it was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. Kind of like rom-com movies. And your favorite movie store just down the road from your apartment.

You know and the cutie working behind the counter.

You wish you knew his name, but always too shy to even ask and it didn’t look like he wore a name tag either. To your friends he was just ‘long hair movie cutie.’ He was also the reason you went in every Friday to rent 13 Going on 30, that movie with Jennifer Garner and Mark Ruffalo. It had you believing that love would always find a way and got you pumped to learn the dance to Thriller.

You never talked to him, just kind of always smiled at each other, but he always did slip some Twizzlers into your bag before handing it to you. You bet he was as sweet as the candy.

He was also very timid and you could tell. Always letting others push him around and call him names. You didn’t let them though. After smiling at your little sweetie you would follow the asswhole out to their car, pulling your pocket knife and slicing the guy's throats.

You smile as you wipe the blade on their shirt, guys never see it coming from behind.

This used to happen a lot, but over the next few months you saw movie guy get bolder, he even told you his name! It’s Bart! The two of you talked a bit more, you learned that he was taking really fun lessons from his friend Mike and he learned why you always rented the same movie every week.

“I believe in love.” You told him, a shy smile on your face. “I hope to find my one.”

Bart let out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah. Me too.”

One last goodbye to Bart and you were out the door. You wanted to stay longer, but some guy behind you in line was making crude comments at you. You just knew he was going to regret that.

You waited outside for him to finally come out, but then you waited for an hour and still nothing. Honestly it was so rude! Why would this jerk make you wait to kill him?

Another 10 minutes went by when you heard a loud thud of a car trunk closing. Curious, and a little blood thirsty, you crept around the corner to see Bart with blood splattered on his face and shirt, dusting his hands together like he had done something to be proud of.

“Bart?” He jumped at the sound of your voice. “Whatcha doing?”

“N nothing!’ He squeaked, hand snaking down to his waist where you saw the glint of a gun in the moonlight.

“Is that blood on your face?”

Oh no you caught him! How was he supposed to explain that he just murdered the guy he saw ogling you and saying all these rude things to you? He couldn’t just let that guy get away with mistreating you so he locked the store after you left, making sure he was alone with him, and bashed his head in before dragging him out back to his car.

“Oh my god did you just kill someone?!” The demented smile on your face threw him for a loop. It was as though you were happy for him. “Oh lucky! I was waiting for that guy out here, but he had the nerve to stand up his own killer. It was rude.”

You were happy for him, but also jealous at the same time. You really needed that kind of outlet tonight.

“Y you… kill?” He started timid though his body relaxed at the revelation.

“Oh yeah! Have been for a few months now. They never look for women serial killers.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a female serial killer.”

You smile and wander over to him, your hand coming up to wipe some of the blood off his cheek. Bart froze at the close contact. Over the smell of iron he could smell your perfume. The heavenly scent made him feel a little weak in the knees and the blood in his body rushed to his cheeks and ears.

“Well now you have! Who did you kill?”

“I’m actually the reason your kill is so late.”

You gasp, eyes going to the trunk. “YOU took my kill?! Aw man.” You sigh and go to the passenger side of his car, opening the door as you look at him with a pout on your lips. “I’ll forgive you this time because you’re cute, but next time I won’t be so nice.”

Bart scrambled to the driver's seat to follow you. When he finally got inside, he looked at you with wide eyes.

“W what are you doing?”

“Well we are going to go on our first time! No better time than disposing of a body!”

At your joyous voice Bart started the car, backing up and driving away.

“I don’t want this to be our first date,” he said with a shy smile on his lips, “I want to take you somewhere romantic.”

You laugh at his sincerity. “Then I will hold you to that, Bart.”

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 The Pairing Book Review 🦇

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

❓ #QOTD If you could travel anywhere for the summer, where would you go? ❓ 🦇 Theo and Kit have been a lot of things: childhood best friends, crushes, in love, and now estranged exes. After a brutal breakup on the transatlantic flight to their dream European food and wine tour, they exited each other's lives once and for all. All that remains is the unused voucher for the European tour that never happened, good for 48 months after its original date and about to expire. It's not until they board the tour bus that they discover they've both accidentally had the exact same idea, and now they're trapped with each other for three weeks of stunning views, luscious flavors, and the most romantic cities of France, Spain, and Italy. Will it be too much, or a reminder that a small taste can make you crave what you can't have?

💜 Pairs well with: healing hearts long bottled up but aged well, a decadent glass of light-bodied wine with hints of cherry (memories of sweet syrup spilling down warm wrists on a hot summer's day), and a lover's kiss (their taste stained against your lips). I don't know what I was thinking, reading I Kissed Shara Wheeler, Red, White, & Royal Blue, then The Pairing all back to back in a rushed, heart-aching CMQ marathon for Pride Month, but WOAH does my heart hurt. The Pairing is the perfect rom-com summer read. This story will whisk you away on a tour of Europe, inviting you to feast on local cuisine until adjectives tantalize and taunt your tastebuds, soothing you like a rich glass of red (smooth and velvety, bursting with flavors of ripe plum, black cherry, and toasted cedar, sparking unfamiliar memories). If you adored Red, White, and Royal Blue (namely, the queer references and quotes pulled from history), the exploration of Europe's never-ending artistry and ageless anecdotes will no doubt tug at your heartstrings. Nevermind the detailed descriptors, the pristine explorations of pastries, pasta, wine, and wonder. Let's talk about Kit and Theo.

💜 CMQ does an outstanding job at Show, Don't Tell throughout the entire novel. Too often, there's a moment in second-chance romances, a piece of the past that broke a meant-to-be couple apart, that SO many novels reveal all too quickly. CMQ doesn't hinge the entire story on that reveal, nor is it unveiled too soon. Instead, we're given the chance to understand Theo and Kit's points of view, not about that ONE defining moment, but about everything; how they came to be, what their lives were becoming, the lost possibility. These two characters feel SO much, but those emotions are never defined with clear-cut words, forcing readers to accept those feelings. Emotions aren't so cut and dry, nor singular; they're a tangle, a messy knot of hurt and longing, love and betrayal. Instead, we experience them through glimpses of the past and present. We heal alongside them. I'm grateful the story focused on Theo's POV first, THEN switched to Kit's during a pivotal moment of their present. We experience Theo's still raw pain and self-doubt before delving into Theo's everlasting love and regret.

💜 I just, I CAN'T. I didn't last a single chapter without making a mess of annotations. I've lived a friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-back-to-lovers, second-chance romance. I know that feeling of one person being your everything, regardless of time and distance. CMQ captures it fully.

💙 My only hang-up: this story relies on the miscommunication trope to survive, not only in the present, but the past that broke Theo and Kit apart in the first place. The execution is flawless, though, giving it realistic reasoning instead of simply using it as a plot piece. I'd also like to point out that the description you read online, regarding the hookup competition, is hardly the story's real focus. It's like the garnish for an already sublime cocktail. You can do without.

🦇 Recommended for fans of Jandy Nelson, 13 Little Blue Envelopes, and all things CMQ.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🍷 Bi4Bi 🥐 Queer Romance 🍷 Europe Tour 🥐 Second Chance Romance 🍷 Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers 🥐 Dual POV 🍷 Food, Wine, History, Art, Culture

🦇 Major thanks to the author and publisher for providing an ARC of this book via Netgalley. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book. #ThePairing

💬 Quotes ❝ The problem is, we’ve only ever been everything or nothing to each other. I don’t know how to start being something to him. ❞ ❝ It’s not just that I want him. It’s that he taught me what wanting was. ❞ ❝ I wonder if anyone else in the whole blackberry-jam galaxy has ever loved someone so much that it made their soul feel fixed in their body. ❞ ❝ An expression of delighted awe dawns on Theo’s face, and in it I see layer after layer, old self after intermediate self after current self, the Theo I met as a child and the Theo I got to call mine and the Theo who fills her own body. They’re all here, hanging in the air, harmonizing with one another. Maybe they’re always here. Maybe she feels so familiar and so new to me now because I’d heard the beginning note but not the completed chord. I knew her before her arches had points, before the paint to finish her had been invented. What a wonder, what a miracle: somehow, more of her. ❞ ❝ My favorite parts of me are the ones that Theo brings out, the ones that grew to match theirs. ❞ ❝ I could love that ongoing, extant Theo again. There’s so much romance in that, so much beauty in learning how much my heart can endure. Sometimes I think the only way to keep something forever is to lose it and let it haunt you. ❞ ❝ If I can give my whole heart to love without fearing the cost, I will regret nothing. ❞

[inuyashamybeloved]

After ten years of not seeing her, Inuyasha reunites with Kagome, his everlasting high school crush. He would really, really like to date her. Except that there’s a teeny, tiny problem…

He’s a married man.

And even when his marriage is not what everyone thinks, there’s not much he can do without putting his wife at risk.

Characters: Inuyasha, Kagome Higurashi, Kikyo, Yura, + others

Pairing: Inuyasha/Kagome, Kikyo/Yura

Rating: Explicit (in later chapters)

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Rom-Com, Misunderstandings and Shenanigans, Slight Angst, NOT a cheating fic, NOT a love triangle, Fake relationship, Secret Relationship, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Beard Inuyasha, THEY ARE IDIOTS YOUR HONOR

Chapters: 13/?

Status: In Progress

Read from the beginning on Ao3

Read Chapter 13 on Ao3

Tag list: @xanthippe-writes

[popentertainment-moviereviews]

FLY ME TO THE MOON (2024)

Starring Scarlett Johansson, Channing Tatum, Jim Rash, Anna Garcia, Donald Elise Watkins, Noah Robbins, Colin Woodell, Christian Zuber, Nick Dillenburg, Ray Romano, Woody Harrelson, Bill Barrett, Stephanie Kurtzuba, Joe Chrest, Colin Jost, Greg Kriek, Art Newkirk, Peter Jacobson, Ashley Kings, Jonathan Orea Lopez, Christian Clemenson and Eva Pilar.

Screenplay by Rose Gilroy.

Directed by Greg Berlanti.

Distributed by Columbia Pictures. 132 minutes. Rated PG-13.

“Fly me to the moon / Let me play among the stars / And let me see what spring is like / On Jupiter and Mars / In other words, hold my hand / In other words, baby, kiss me.”

It would be nice if the romantic comedy Fly Me To the Moon were as simple, frisky and romantic as the song from which it took its title. Honestly, sometimes it does reach those heights, but it has too much going on plot-wise and not enough romance and comedy to keep its story airborne.

That’s a shame, because this is one of very few rom coms which will be widely released this summer. I was hoping that this film would ignite, but that only happens periodically.

Fly Me To the Moon captures a particular place and time in American history – Cape Kennedy, Florida on the eve of the 1969 Apollo 11 launch and man’s first walk on the moon. It has an interesting cast of characters – scientists, astronauts, marketing specialists, shady government agents, far right-wing politicians and egomaniacal Hollywood directors. It’s old-fashioned, and yet it has things to say about modern society as well.  

So why does Fly Me To the Moon only sometimes reach lift-off?

Simply put, because they were trying to do too much. Added into the dish like an unnecessary spice is a whole section based on the old conspiracy theory that the moon landing was a fake made on a soundstage – quite possibly by Stanley Kubrick. (I will give Fly Me To the Moon props for a clever Kubrick gag in the middle of the action.)

This not-so-little subplot does not appear in the story until about an hour into the film, and honestly, it’s an unwelcome addition. Not only has the fakes space mission storyline been done way too often on film already – from the mostly forgotten but surprisingly good 1970s thriller Capricorn One to more recent films like Moonwalkers, Dark Side of the Moon and others. Hell, it was even a quick sight gag in Minions, which may be proof positive that this story is overdone.

To be quite honest, I think Fly Me To the Moon would have worked better had they simply jettisoned that storyline and had done a straight romance around the NASA launch of Apollo 11. The faking story makes more than one of the main characters look bad on a regular basis. Sure, it does give more ammunition to Woody Harrelson playing the shadowy Nixon operative behind the scheme – and Woody is very funny here – but he was very funny well before this plot thread was introduced. They could have found more for him to do in the original narrative.

Because what Fly Me To the Moon is really about – or at least it was until the storyline took that hard right turn – was the timid romance between two very different types of people who meet working on the leadup to the launch.

The woman is Kelly Jones (Scarlett Johansson), a smart, flirty and somewhat cynical public relations professional who has a sketchy past and some questionable methods. She has been hired by the government to start a buzz on the space program, which is still reeling from the tragic explosion of Apollo 1 a couple of years earlier. She has the hair of an astronaut’s wife, blood red lips and the va-va-voom pants suits and capris of a pin-up girl – all of which she uses to disarm the sexist guys she always has to deal with in business.

The guy is Cole Davis (Channing Tatum), the rather humorless former-aspiring-astronaut and scientist in charge of the mission. You can tell how button-down Cole is because throughout the length of the film he wears the exact same style of shirt – just in different colors. (He also has an odd-modern looking short-but layered haircut which is far from the crew cut which someone in his position would have worn.) You can also tell that he is repressed because the first time he meets Kelly – in a local diner – he acknowledges she is the most attractive woman he has ever seen. Still, he cock-blocks himself, telling her that he can’t get involved with anyone because of bad timing and the importance of his job.

I guess we should look at the elephant in the room here. While Johansson and Tatum are both undoubtedly gorgeous, they have very little chemistry together. This is mostly on Tatum’s side – and it may not even be the actor’s fault, it may just be the role as written. Still, it is a little hard to root for a happy-ever-after for these two.

However, taking a look at the space program at the height of its importance is endlessly fascinating. Had they maintained the view at the actual space landing rather than showing the less interesting attempts to recreate it, Fly Me To the Moon may have been something special. Instead it is a fairly good movie which had the potential to be very good.

Jay S. Jacobs

Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: July 12, 2024.

[reviewinghiccup]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY HTTYD FANDOM! | HTTYD TALKS | DRAWING PARALLELS

Can you imagine? It's has been 13 years since the world of Berk and the archipelago opened up to us. Since we entered this crazy, viking village 12 degrees north from hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death.

I reckon the HTTYD anniversaries might kick off a little differently for fans all over the globe depending on its opening, because DreamWorks commemorated the HTTYD's 13 years on the 22nd of March on Instagram, though I distinctly remember it opening where I was on the 27th because it was also my birthday and I wanted to watch a movie.

Which means, yes, guys, I'm turning 24 today! HAHA! To mark this double celebration, I thought of doing something fun and a little different from my usual posts just to get the ball rolling. So, question, have you guys ever watched She's Out of My League?

She's Out of My League is a Jay Baruchel movie. A rom-com produced by Paramount Pictures AND (wait for it...) DreamWorks Pictures. It was released in March 2010 which meant that our Hiccup-voice-actor here had two movies playing at the cinema simultaneously.

I remembered that I wasn't allowed to watch the movie, but my older brother (10 years older than me) snuck me into the theatres to watch. I remember him covering my eyes for a bit and not understanding a lot of the humour back then, but I did remember the premise, so here goes...

Premise:

Kirk (Jay Baruchel) is your everyday, average Joe. Coupled w the fact that he is somewhat a pushover and insidiously insecure, he tries to get back with his manipulative ex-girlfriend Marni. After that failed, he stumbles onto the path of the beautiful Molly, who by beauty standards, personality and life-style choices is considered a hard 10, while he is rated a mere 5.

When Molly seems to take an interest in Kirk, the whole world is put out of balance and their friends smell impending doom by virtue of their different "social ratings." However, are these standards real, or just a social construct that needs debunking?

______________________________________

I'm not here to criticise the movie. I'm sure we all have our thoughts. Nor am I saying that this movie or the romantic storyline holds a candle to the HTTYD franchise or Hiccstrid, but, it was hilarious to discover a number of parallels between these two worlds.

DRAWING PARALLELS

THE CHARACTERS

Kirk Kettner (Jay Baruchel) - The awkward underdog, highly underestimated by everyone including himself and doesn't see that he is, in fact, more than his make.

Molly (Alice Eve) - The beautiful, blonde and determined love interest. Lawyer turned successful events planner. Independent, fiercely confident and a real go-getter.

Devon (Nate Torrence) - The nicer friend in Kirk's friend group. An adorable, huggable sweetie pie who still believes in magic and romance.

Dylan (Kyle Bornheimer) - The guy you'd love to hate. He is Kirk's overbearing older brother who bullies Kirk to mask his own insecurities.

Stainer (T.J. Miller) - The quick talking, witty side-kick whose crazy ideas propels the storyline into an absurd direction. Who is actually, also Tuffnut.

Katie (Kim Shaw) - Molly's younger, dimwitted sister who is just getting by.

Patty (Krysten Ritter) - Molly's best friend and business partner. Strong-willed, independent and fiercely loyal.

THEME, MESSAGE & STORYLINE

(1) IT ISN'T ABOUT HOW YOU LOOK LIKE, BUT WHO YOU ARE ON THE INSIDE

It's a cliche to say, beauty is from within. But it doesn't make it less true. I think what makes Molly attractive is because she is a really nice person, adaptable. Her beauty is an aspect of it. Imagine if Molly had Marni's personality. The story would've turned differently.

This is also Kirk's selling point. The pinnacle of his entire personality is the nice guy card, it's what attracts Molly.

Likewise w Hiccup, he is a genuinely good guy. You can't fault him for his courtesy. Though Kirk's personality seems more like a caricature of Hiccup's, ironically. And, Hiccup's strength and leadership is not something you'd notice on his person but in him.

(2) YOU NEED TO BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOURSELF

I loved Portrait of Hiccup as a Buff Man [Episode 8, Season 1 (Riders of Berk)] for many reasons, but mainly because it was the episode Hiccup proves to himself that he is worthy.

She's Out of My League was a movie about Kirk learning that he is worthy. That he isn't just a five, that this whole rating system is nonsense. He was always good enough for Molly, he was never good enough for himself.

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE FOR YOUR FAVOURITE EPISODES FROM RIDERS OF BERK. THE LIST IS OPENED ALL WEEK!

Which is your favourite ROB episode (Part I)

Which is your favourite ROB episode (Part II)

Though She's Out of My League didn't dive into Kirk and Molly's relationship and life after they got back together, I am assuming Kirk found his courage in someways. He ends up flying a plane, which is a life long dream of his, he dreamt of becoming a pilot. And well, we all know that if Hiccup existed today, and was a real person, he would've been a pilot too. Maybe in the AirForce, on a jet black plane named Toothless.

HICCSTRID MOMENTS

No review of mine is complete without Hiccstrid.

Kirk and Molly have roughly the same hair colour as Hiccup and Astrid. My favourite scenes in She's Out of My League are the romantic montages of them going out. This is one of my favourite shots from the show:

I crushed hard on Jay Baruchel. I mean, the dude has got some game. I mean, awkward af, but still, he's pretty cute. I mean... let me show you...

I'm still smiling!

THE ROMANTIC MONTAGES IN SHE'S OUT OF MY LEAGUE FELT LIKE A HICCSTRID AU FAN FICTION GOT PRODUCED INTO A MUSIC VIDEO!

I'm not recommending you guys watch this show by the way. If you haven't that is. If you're not used to this type of adult-comedy, you might not like it. The pacing is a little choppy, and it does slap you w many cringy moments. But sometimes, its just so ridiculously hopeless you can't help but laugh.

I don't remember if the show did well, but its not a bad movie (to me). It was underrated for what it was trying to accomplish, but it could definitely do w some refining . Like, I would've loved it if they developed the characters and the romance more.

But at the time the movie was released, I think a lot of people related to Kirk. The whole, "on a scale of 1 to 10" thing has messed w a lot of confidences.

As a teenager, I reckon that's more of a problem. I remember that popular girls in school were always pretty and the hot guys were always good looking. And well, it's hard to not believe that looks don't play a part.

But, once I grew out of it, I honestly found those attributes to come in second to many other qualities of a person. Looks just happen to be a bonus. Hahaha, look at me, a day older and already issuing unsolicited advice.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY HTTYD FANDOM!

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 2/5

Book Blurb:

Margot is on the quest to uncover and reassemble an ancient—and cursed—vase, with the help of a boy who went missing in 1932, because it's the only way to put back together her broken heart in this standa-lone adventure rom-com, perfect for fans of What the River Knows and The Lost City.

The mythical Vase of Venus Aurelia hasn’t been seen since 1932, but Margot Rhodes is determined to change that.

Drawn by the vase’s supposed magical properties, Margot embarks on her school’s archaeological trip to Pompeii. Sure, it’s her first time holding a shovel, but she’s got something no one else does: lost teenage explorer Van Keane’s journal.

Poring over the poetic entries that serve as a map to the vase’s missing shards, Margot finds herself falling in love with the boy who wrote it a century ago. She’s shocked when her search leads her to a statue that looks exactly like Van, and then the statue comes to life.

Catapulted into the present, Van is nothing like the wordsmith Margot imagined. He’s all sharp edges, intent on retrieving the relic for all the wrong reasons. But it takes two to survive Venus’s death-defying challenges, and, together, Margot and Van must excavate the treasure—and their buried pasts—before their story ends in ruins.

With a blend of humor, magic, and love, Rachel Moore crafts another stand-alone adventure rom-com full of double- and triple-crosses, hilarious shenanigans, and frustration-fueled banter, where the best treasure is true love.

Review:

A teen girl obsessed with finding an ancient relic that the journal of a boy who went missing in 1932 was searching for leads her to heartbreak, adventure, and finding the missing boy who was turned into stone but is now very much alive. Margot has been obsessed with archeology and trying to find the mythical Vase of Venus Aurelia, based on the journal of a teen explorer Van Keane who went missing in 1932 in search of this vase. Margot has fallen for Van, the boy who went missing and is determined to complete his quest using his journal... only she actually finds him as a statue... and now coming back alive and together they must find a way to work with one another if they are to find the vase and figure out their very complicated relationship. Real life Van is nothing like the version she made in her head and Margot is beginning to realize that the real boy in front of her isn't as perfect and that he might be out only for himself. With her heart on the line, a vase to find, and a boy who is hiding so many secrets, can she get her happy ever after? This was an extremely young YA novel and I definitely went in thinking this would be a bit older, this would have worked so much better if Margot and Van were in college. Margot acts like a 14 year old girl and honestly, it kind of seemed a bit off in this book. If I knew this was going to be much younger I think it would have tempered my expectations a bit. I just found myself feeling like this was too juvenile for me and that if it were aged up a bit more it would have been just perfect. I liked the premise of the book and how it was very much "The mummy" inspired and the romance was very light and definitely felt like what a 13-14 year old girl would act and do. So if you like younger YA romances I would say absolutely go for this.

Release Date: September 3,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and HarperCollins Children's Books | HarperCollins for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[fuckyeah-beringandwellsfics]

Christmas in Clement

submitted by: anonymous

Christmas in Clement (9378 words) by @birdofdawning Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Warehouse 13 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Myka Bering/Helena "H. G." Wells Characters: Myka Bering, Helena "H. G." Wells Additional Tags: Pete if you squint, AU, Christmas Romcom, My Dinner With Myka Summary: Workaholic Myka Bering and superior Helena Wells are the jilted other people in a Christmas romcom who meet trying to catch the first flight out of the quaint little town of Clement. However, escaping other people's Christmas romances will not be that easy.

Please tell us why you like this fic so much!

Lovely rom-com tropiness that feels more realistic than most. Sympathy for the "jilted lovers," especially since Myka and Helena are such, and it feels entirely in-character for them. And quiet, artful chemistry between Bering and Wells, of course.

---

Remember that you can submit fics to be featured here, too; Christmas-y or otherwise! Here's the link to the submission form (Google Form)!