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colormepurplex2 · 6 months ago

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Golden Cufflinks | JJK

▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum

Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!

A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.

You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”

“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”

Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.

“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”

The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.

Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.

Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.

“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”

“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”

Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.

You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.

The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.

The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.

There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.

You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.

There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.

The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.

Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.

It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.

The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.

It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.

“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.

You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.

“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”

Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”

It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.

When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.

“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”

Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”

“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”

“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”

Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.

“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”

Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.

The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.

You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”

“Hayun!”

Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.

It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.

The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.

The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.

“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.

Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.

You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”

“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.

The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.

“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”

“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.

You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.

“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”

You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”

“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”

Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”

The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.

“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.

As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.

“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”

Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”

“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.

“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.

Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.

“What?”

She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”

“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”

The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.

“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”

“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”

“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”

“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.

She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”

“Hayun, I don’t—”

“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.

Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”

“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”

Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”

You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”

“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”

She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”

“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.

“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”

“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.

Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”

Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.

After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.

A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.

“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.

“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”

“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”

Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”

Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”

“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.

When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.

Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.

Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.

The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.

A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.

“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”

The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.

Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.

“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.

🥀🥀🥀

“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.

“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.

It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.

“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”

You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.

Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.

“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”

You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.

Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.

Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.

“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.

“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”

Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.

“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.

Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.

He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.

Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.

Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.

If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.

Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…

“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.

Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.

“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”

Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.

It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.

You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.

At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.

The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.

Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.

Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”

“What? No!”

Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”

A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.

Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.

“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.

By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.

“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.

Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.

“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.

Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.

“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”

“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”

A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.

Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”

Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.

“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”

“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”

A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”

Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.

You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.

It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.

Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.

The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.

Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?”

His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.

“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.

Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.

He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”

“So,” you parrot.

“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”

“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”

“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”

And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.

Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”

“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.

The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.

Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.

“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”

Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.

You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.

“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.

You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.

They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.

Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.

Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.

Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.

He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.

You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.

Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”

“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.

A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.

Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.

Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.

“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.

“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.

This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.

The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.

To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.

You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.

Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.

“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.

Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”

You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.

“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.

As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.

Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.

Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.

It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.

You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.

Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.

Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.

“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”

It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.

Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.

“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.

“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.

But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.

“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”

It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.

“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.

Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.

Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.

It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.

Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.

You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.

“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”

Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”

You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”

That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.

His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.

Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.

You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.

The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”

You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.

The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.

You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.

The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.

With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…

Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.

Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.

You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying.

“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.

“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.

He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”

It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.

“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”

Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”

You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #bangtanwritershq

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burreauxoxo · 2 months ago

Text

transformation - joe burrow

best friend/boyfriend/dad!joe x fem!reader

summary: you and joe watch each other transform from a girl and a boy to a mom and a dad.

warnings: 1 use of y/n, slight swearing, suggestion of NSFW content but nothing is described, pregnancy

word count: 4.6k

note: seen an instagram reel by kadin kerns about his wife turning into a mother from a girl and had so many ideas swarm in my head. i think it turned out pretty cute, feel free to let me know!

pictures above and divider below do not belong to me! credits to the owners!

when it came to the relationship joe had with you, the only words he could use to describe it would be lengthy and loving.

let’s rewind it back to when you two first met.

it all starts at athens high school. well known football player, joe burrow, just had a show-out performance on the schools football field.

you were born into and grew up in a football family. you started wearing jerseys to school at a young age and you were never afraid to show your support towards your favorite team and its players.

so, when you are in the stands for that football game and see that he is taking pictures with people, you knew exactly what you wanted.

“this may be an extremely odd question coming from me but… can we take a picture together?” you asked as you motioned towards the camera you held in your hand.

“sure!” he says and leans down to stand behind you, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“i love how you play. i know you’re going to get far with your capabilities.” you say with a nervous smile at the end.

if you had to stand in front of someone and tell them the cold, hard truth, it would be that he is making you weak in the knees.

his bleached hair that sat there all messy from his helmet. his jersey that wasn’t as dirty as the rest of the players because he was a clean and flawless quarterback. everything about him was a gorgeous view just waiting to be admired.

“why, thank you.” he says and turns to say something to another player that stood next to him.

you hung around for a minute to process the atmosphere around you. it was surreal, this was the american dream that the movies represented for a teenage girl. talking to the popular guy who is the star quarterback of their school’s football team. all you had to do was become a cheerleader and you could pretend to be someone in one of those movies.

just as you were about to leave, you noticed joe whip his head back around. you were expecting him to give you an odd look for lingering around him.

“oh good, you’re still here. do you go here? or are you from the opposing teams school?” he asks you.

“no, i go here. i think we even have biology together.” you say and watch him think.

“oh! you’re the girl who is always wearing the jerseys! you sit behind me somewhere, right?” he asks.

“that’s me.”

“hey, you’re cool. i hope i see you around more often.” joe says and your insides start to melt.

“same for you. maybe i’ll see you in class.” you say and start to turn away.

little did you know, asking for that picture was going to light a fire that was never going to be put out.

you two did end up running into each other that following monday. he tapped you on the shoulder, resulting in a startled turn in your seat that caused him to smile.

“glad i found you.” was all he said before he went and found his own seat.

eventually, you would go on to spend almost the entirety of your free time with joe. whether it would be studying for that biology class, attending practice that he asked you to come to, talking about the games that happened the prior weekend. all while sitting at the same lunch table you never would have been able to sit at otherwise.

it became such an established friendship that hanging out after school was a must. you would have movie nights, dinners, sleepovers or even gatherings in his room with his friends.

you would run the streets with him late at night going to and from the nearest gas station where you would spend the money you didn’t have on snacks that you didn’t need.

there was a time where it started to rain while you two were on the way back to your house, when you slipped and couldn’t get up.

you started out laughing, in which joe obviously joined in on. but the longer you were on the ground, the more it hurt and the colder you got.

“ouch, it hurts.” you start to choke out between laughs and tears that were threatening to spill.

“duh, that wasn’t an easy fall. you’re getting soaked, stand up.” joe says, trying to stop the laughter.

“i don’t want to.” you whine.

joe eventually squats down and sits next to you. he pulls open the bag of chips he had gotten and popped one in his mouth, immediately reaching back into the bag to grab you one.

he hovers the chip above your lips and waits for you to open. once you do, you smile while crunching on the snack. joe had no intentions on having you hurry up and stand up. he was comfortable where he was as long as he was with you; even if the ground was wet and you two heard thunder in the distance.

“excuse me! what are you two doing?” an older lady steps out of her house to say.

you hadn’t even realized that this definitely looked suspicious. maybe it was time to get up.

“she slipped on the wet ground and her back is kind of sore so we were just sitting here for a second.” joe quickly explains.

“okay, you two be careful.” she says and goes back inside.

“ready to get up now?” joe asks and you nod.

he flies up to his feet and takes both of your hands and assists in pulling you up.

you were definitely sore but it was manageable. it definitely wouldn’t be so doable if joe wasn’t there to help you out.

and that’s how things continued.

he would continue to take care of you until he couldn’t.

“what happens when we go to college? we’ve been inseparable for years now.” joe would ask as you two sat at the lunch table you sat at every day.

it was a matter of days before the fall semester would end and that meant commitments were soon. closing time was quickly approaching.

“have you decided where you want to go?” you ask.

“i wanted nebraska but, that isn’t happening.” joe says with a shrug.

“what are the other options?”

“i only have ohio state to pick from.” joe says, not even looking up from his lunch tray.

“well that’s good! they have a solid team!” you try to help him along the same way he’d help you along.

“yeah, but the issue with that is, i’d be a backup. there would be no chance of me even starting until maybe next season and who wants to wait that long?”

“good things come to those who wait. what if another school calls you up and wants you while you’re waiting? or even a sick transfer offer comes up.” you say and he shrugs, yet again.

“would it help if i tell you where i'm committing?” you say quietly, leaning in towards joe.

“you decided already? why haven’t you told me before right now?” joe says, surprised.

“because. i wanted to hear yours first.” you admit.

“okay well, i have to go to ohio state. where are you going? don’t even tell me you committed to stanford or ucla or some shit.” he says and you shake your head.

“i’ll give you a hint. what lives here, will live on through college.” you say and wait for him to understand.

“what? what do you mean? just tell me where you’re go-” joe says and then stops, mouth opening wider.

“you decided on ohio state?” he says, shocked.

“mhm.” you nod and smile.

joe stands up from the lunch table and throws his fists up in the air, celebrating.

“yeahhh! hell yes! this makes it so much better!” joe says and displays the widest, and cutest, smile ever.

and again, against all odds, whatever flame that was lit between you two, was still never put out.

you moved into dorm buildings across from each other, you had a common core class together and the same wednesday’s free every week, but there was one thing that stuck out to you.

you and joe were still only considered ‘best friends.’ you were grateful and forever will be grateful to call him your best friend but, there was a part of your heart that wanted just a little bit more.

you wanted to be able to touch him. hug him. caress his cheek. run your fingers through the hair that was no longer the same blond it was when you two first met. when halloween came and went, the couples costumes haunted you. the batman and catwoman daydreams slowly but surely dying a slow and painful death. joe was never a halloween person anyways, but it was the thought that counted the most.

you thought something was going to happen on multiple occasions.

one of them being the time he snuck into your dorm room and fell asleep on that tiny twin-sized bed with you. he was basically on top of you all night. you were never a back-sleeper but that night, your favorite way to sleep was on your back.

joe snuck out of your dorm room around six in the morning, blending in with the other people that were getting ready for the day.

other than that, he has fallen asleep in your lap multiple times even throughout high school. he would ask you how he looked which you thought was a hidden way to see if you felt the same way in any manner.

but you weren’t even sure if he felt even an ounce of the same way you had felt.

you attended every game he was told to attend even if he didn’t get a chance to play. you came to practice when you were allowed to. you went to the gym with him almost every day. you were even going to parties with him. all of this happening in public.

there had to be at least one person out there who thought you were together at some point. but nope, just friends.

you had been this close to giving up on him in that aspect when you decided to go out on a date with someone. you were a girl, wasting her freshman year of college, waiting around.

not anymore.

first it was a coffee date and a ‘where are you?’ text. then it was a dinner date and a ‘come over? roomie gave me a cool new movie’ text. finally, it was a party and a ‘what the hell have you been doing?’ verbal confrontation.

“i’m sorry?” you answered, your date at the drink area.

“you flake on my last game, you leave me hanging on a rough night, you won’t study with me anymore, and now come to find out you’ve been spending your time with another guy?” joe says, hurt displayed on his face like no other emotion was able to come through.

“joe, i have a life, too.” you admit.

“we’ve spent all these years together, doing these things together and you drop them like they are nothing. it’s been like a month since we last had a free day to ourselves… like we used to. you’re my best friend, am i not allowed to miss you?”

“joe-”

you’re cut off when he approaches you even more, never breaking eye contact. he snakes his hand over your cheek and down to your neck, resting his hand on your neck, slowly making his fingers find space within the hair on the back of your head.

“would it help if i finally give into the feelings i’ve felt for years? would i finally relay a message that’s up to your liking?” joe whispers into your ear.

“i-” you manage to get out before he has his finger on your lips.

“i know, y/n, i know.” he says and kisses your cheek, moving over to the bridge of your nose. he looks at your eyes and then down at your lips.

“can i?” he asks.

you nod your head and somehow, you squeeze out a verbal ‘yes’ to answer his request. his eyes move down to your lips once again, taking in the moment.

“of course i know.”

the situation quickly escalates to a red-alert moment. you break away from the steamy kiss and tell joe to pause.

you walk over to your date and grab your stomach.

“i’m feeling absolutely awful, i have to go.” you say.

“wait! let me take you home!” he says.

“i already called someone. i’m sorry.” you say and your date frowns.

“have fun here, i’ll be okay.” you say and he nods.

you find your way to the front door and you text joe to hurry up. once he finds you outside, he pulls you in and kisses you, even deeper than last time.

you grab his hand and guide him to where the car was waiting. he grabs the door handle to the passenger side and climbs into the car.

“get it, burrow!” you hear from the front yard; joe sticks his middle finger up but all in a friendly matter.

“my place. nobody is there.” joe says as he is trying to speed up the process.

once you got to his dorm, that was the start of a series of events between you two.

the day after that night happened, joe brought coffee and flowers for both you and your roommate. he left a note for you in yours that read,

“i love and appreciate everything you do for me and with me. thank you for being in my life.”

you kept that note pressed in a diary you kept and have been writing in since your sophomore year. you knew you’d need it again one day.

it didn’t take long for you two to become a real ‘thing.’ more flowers in front of your dorm room door was all it took. obviously, joe hiding behind the corner to catch your reaction was something else, but the flowers and the note were what sealed the deal.

“for all you are, there is no other love, it’s only yours, you’re all i want”

the endless nights of cuddling, the studying sessions that never changed from how they were before you two became ‘official.’ it’s like that thing called love was made for the two of you. it just fit into your relationship so well.

things continued to be great for the months to come. minor arguments here and there and days where you two couldn’t see each other due to his games and your work schedule, but that was about it.

you two were able to manage such a strong friendship within the years prior, the rest just came naturally.

but things take a turn after you both are able to finish your degree work in three years and joe decides his college football career isn’t over yet.

you stayed up in the early hours of the morning with him, trying to figure out if an immediate graduate transfer would do him any good. this was an everlasting dream that joe has had his whole life and the cards he was dealt at ohio state just weren’t fair. his potential and ability to play were trashed the same way the garbage on the curb was. completely disregarded.

you promised you’d be his biggest supporter and you’d do anything you were able to do if it meant he was able to continue this dream.

so when you deliver the news that an apartment in louisiana awaits you two because he is officially playing for louisiana state university, things started to feel more and more complete.

you find a job that will keep your apartment and it’s expenses afloat and you let him play his heart out.

things go incredibly well. he’s finally given a chance here and is slowly but surely proving everyone that he can play.

that is… until he gets injured.

it’s the college football playoff national championship and they are about two quarters in when he gets slammed by the linebacker on the other team. you were immediately able to tell that he was in discomfort but you weren’t exactly sure what happened.

but once they are labeled champions of this season and he welcomes you down to join the celebration, you are finally able to ask what happened.

“something with my ribs. i’m fine.” he says and wipes the sweat from his forehead.

you give him a caring once over before you are finally able to congratulate him.

“oh, i’m so proud of you!” you finally say and pull him in for a kiss.

turns out, torn rib cartilage is not something to mess with. but when it comes to injuries, it was something you were sadly going to have to get used to.

when joe is drafted first overall to the cincinnati bengals, you never would have guessed all the downsides playing in the NFL brought.

torn rib cartilage was almost nothing compared to what joe has gone through while playing for this team.

a few tears, sprains, strains, and dislocations; all within the first few years of his career.

he spent a ton of time relaxing and resting even though he didn’t want to. he often told you that he felt claustrophobic and like life was shutting down because these injuries were taking away his freedom.

not only were they all physically painful, the strain it puts on someone’s mental health is almost just as bad.

tearing almost everything in his knee his rookie season in the NFL felt more degrading than you would think.

“they wasted the first pick on this guy?”

“healthy my ass!”

“injury prone to high hell. what a waste.”

you learned that turning his phone off, as well as any sort of program that would mention sports to avoid any negative exposure, was the best thing to do.

kids movies and kids shows were a go-to.

when he wasn’t up being active to the point that he was allowed to be, you two spent the days in bed or on the couch. it was fun for the most part but it killed you knowing that he was hurting on the inside.

he lost his independence when it came to showers (which was about the only thing he was okay with because he’d find any little reason to get you in the shower with him), cooking, using the bathroom in the beginning, and getting dressed. you don’t realize how much you use both hands in every day activities.

but once he is back to a healthy state and back up and playing, you were both happy with life. yeah, the team wasn’t up to certain standards and that would leave joe upset. once again, you were there to ease the pain.

but when he is out of town for an away game and you take a pregnancy test that turns out positive, you start to question things.

what if he gets injured again? that means you have to take care of a baby and an injured loved one.

you started to think that having a baby wasn’t the best of ideas.

but once joe finds out, he’s a puddle.

it’s all he’s ever wanted with you. he wants to prove that even if he is an injury prone, sucky football player, he’s still a killer dad.

he watches you go through this pregnancy like a champion. all the morning sickness he helped you through, you never complained. all the times the baby wouldn’t allow you to eat the food you wanted, you never complained.

the same thing continues once the baby is actually here.

with your hormones being all over the place, the only thing you were able to complain about was the fact that joe was giving all of his attention to the baby.

“it’s all i’ve known. i haven’t spent an average day without you in years. but it’s okay, the baby needs you anyways.” you say as you cried.

“baby, you know i love you and i can’t do life without you. i just met the little one, give me some time.” joe says softly.

“okay. i’ll be patient.” you say and joe smiles.

it hit you once the baby was a couple weeks old that nothing was going to be the same.

when joe calls out, “i love you” he is going to change it to “i love you guys” or when he kisses you goodnight, he’s going to kiss the baby goodnight as well.

it’s not that you were jealous of your own child, it’s just the thought of change.

you’ve spent almost every day with joe since you guys were seventeen. now you guys are deep in your twenties. it’s weird knowing that, that specific time frame will always be a piece of time you guys spent together that you’ll never get back- because it’s not just you two anymore.

it’s always been you two. for over ten years.

but now it’s you three.

while you were adjusting to the mom life, joe would admire you the same exact way he would when you two were teenagers.

you were just as beautiful, if not more now, opposed to when you two were younger.

you dealt with him in high school and two different colleges, you dealt with all of his football shit, you nursed him back to health with a smile on your face every day (and on multiple occasions), and now you carried his baby. in his eyes, everything about you was attractive.

“i know what’s going through that pretty head of yours.” joe says randomly one night when you are feeding the baby.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“you miss the alone time.”

“what?”

“you miss when it was just us all cuddled up in bed or making out on the couch. or even the showers we’d take. the silly shit we’d do when we felt like having fun. maybe you even miss how it was in college.” joe says.

all you did was watch your baby eat because if you paid too close attention to joe, you’d cry.

“you actually might even miss high school. no injuries, no jobs, no professional football.” joe says and tucks a few pieces of falling hair behind your ear.

“i know you love our baby but you miss when we were young and not old and full of responsibilities.”

“i don’t know how you can read me like that.” you say, extremely quiet.

“it’s not a secret baby, i feel the same way. i want to go back to the day you slipped in the rain when we were trying to get back to your place. it’s nothing to feel guilty about either. you love your baby, you love and miss the old times but… with a different love.”

and joe was correct. it’s okay to mourn a part of you that you’ll never get back. it’s all stemmed from love. the type of love you give out is different now.

you’re a mom. not just a teenager or a girlfriend to whoever. you’re a mom who had a baby with an NFL player that you met back in high school when you wanted a picture with him. now you have his baby in your arms and he’s comforting you.

“i am sure it’s just the hormones but… it’s an adjustment.” you admit.

“it’s all going to take time. that little baby is slowly teaching you a new type of love and some day soon it will hit you that, that love is what you’ve needed this whole time. it’s not a love i can give you.” joe says and that’s all it took for a tear to fall.

“i love you. never forget that. i loved you first, the ‘us’ pre-professional adult stuff will live within us forever. i am slowly watching you transform into a new person and its been an honor to be able to do so.” joe says and leans over to kiss your forehead.

it was hard to process but there were a lot of things that have happened that took a while to process. everything was going to work out eventually.

joe was there to remind you of that every day moving forward.

it’s all going to be okay. we all have to transform into someone new at one point. it might shock you at first, but it’s inevitable.

eventually, time passes and things settle down.

your hormones adjust a little more and you realize that life is great just how it is.

you and your baby are best friends, joe has to give a password to enter the playroom now.

the child who once was your guys’ baby, is now a full grown kid and loves playing football ‘just like dad.’

visiting ‘the uncles’ was always the best time of day when the time came. whether it be joe’s brothers or the guys on the team, they were all considered uncles.

a pre-game handshake was an absolute must and had to happen or else ‘daddy will be upset and the team isn’t going to be happy because we have to win.’

that quickly became a lesson because joe didn’t want his child to see him upset over a game. over the years, joe has learned to loosen up even after a loss because it was just a game and it wasn’t worth teaching poor sportsmanship to a child who is learning things by watching their father’s every move.

it has been nothing short of a dream come true to watch many dreams play out throughout these last few years. you had embraced all of the changes that came your way and learned to not dwell on stuff that can’t be changed.

except when another positive pregnancy test is practically thrown in your face like big, red block letters that exclaim something in a cartoon.

“wait, you’re serious?” joe says when you finally tell him.

joe took this announcement a little more to heart since this baby would arrive a matter of weeks after his final season in the NFL. he was finally going to be able to witness every moment of growth that he missed out on with your first born. he was going to be able to fully soak in the newborn phase and not have to leave for a game a week after you give birth and come back to a toddler; at least that’s what it felt like.

his decision to retire wasn’t easy. he was going to miss running the field the same way he has been doing all these years. he thought he’d be able to last just as long, if not longer, as aaron rodgers. but, like he taught you, life happens.

his bones ached more than they did his rookie season. he couldn’t play cold weather games the same way he used to. he craved to stay in bed longer every morning that he’s woken up by his alarm. he was just tired.

he’s lived his dream. he made it to the pros. he got his super bowl ring. he got labeled mvp. he’s played for almost ten years. he has a family now. what else is there to do?

transforming into the man that he is now was a huge success and it was a dream to be able to witness it standing by his side every step of the way. all starting from that day on the football field; which the picture is now hung along the staircase in the burrow family home.

from that seventeen year old with bleached hair that stood on that high school football field to a dad with grey hairs poking through his classy hair styles. from not knowing what was next after being benched for three years to being a super bowl champion and an mvp. to being best friends and now husband and wife which also turned into mom and dad.

it was a unique and transformative experience that only you two can say you’ve experienced.

and the both of you were lucky to say so.

hope everyone enjoyed this one!! see you next time <3

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #nfl #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x reader #fanfic

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writingwisterias · 6 days ago

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Trust fall

RE4R!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Friends- Lovers, Best friend!Leon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Yearning, Awkward moments, Longing, Soft Sex, Comfort, Nightmares, mating press, unprotected sex, tit sucking, hand jobs, fluff

Summary: Falling in love was inevitable when you avoid it for too long...

Words: 11.1k (I said it was long)

Read on Ao3

Poured my blood,sweat n tears into this LMAO....after a shit week at work here it is thank you @kuntprodukt for listening to my ramblings as finished it off. Dedicated to @shymoob ... also ignore the technology inaccuracy for the time period...

Taglist: @senawashere @danigirls-missions @lxzy-bxby @074calicocat @gut1ess

Day 1

Maybe he was going to be nervous as well? Surely, your anxiety was valid after not seeing him for months. The date on the calendar was circled in red pen. You had only been told it only a few days before now; his text was rather unexpected after a long period of silence. The date was to mark the start of Leon’s vacation, though it was granted as a “recovery” period from whatever mission he had just returned from. He was advised by the higher ups to stay with someone that was trusted. The mental welfare of their pawn suddenly became a concern after reading the reports he presented them with.

However, you were no longer privy to these details, as his reputation grew the less you knew. Whenever it was because he wasn’t allowed to say or he chose to withhold the information from you himself – you didn't know. You could see the more secrets he gained, in the form of the new eyebags he had gained from the sleepless nights. Those once bright blue eyes you had grown to love in your teens now had a mixture of grey, like the storm clouds of his haunted past.

Instead he asked you for a distraction, a few days of normality. That you could grant him, providing him with a detailed plan of fun filled days. At least you hoped he would feel the same about it.

The sound of his car outside alerted you of his presence, the gravel of your drive crunching underneath the wheels of his jeep. It was cute how he stuck to one brand of car, coming up with some excuse of its practical use when deep down it was to replace the one he lost. The same one he saved up all summer to get so he could drive back and forth from Raccoon City to you. The brand now holds a sentimental value to him, you suppose, something that reminded him of what could have been.

You gave one last glance around the room, trying to spy any spec of dust or crumbs that he might see as he entered. It’s not like he hasn’t seen your space a mess before, after all your teenage bedroom was a regular hang out spot instead of his dorm at the orphanage and that was never particularly the cleanest.

His features were sharper than last time you noticed as you opened the door, his eyes widening as the smile reached them despite their narrow, hollow look. Your open arms were a beacon to him, his safe place awaiting for him with a large smile and a warm heart. His arms were strong as they encircled you, biceps squeezing your form slightly as he pulled you closer. From the outside you were sure the hug looked like it was more intimate than it was but with the history you both had, it was just right and the perfect medicine he needed.

“I’m glad you’re back” You whispered to him, pulling away slightly to gaze up at his features. The blond hair is still unkempt and draping over your favorite shade of blue, his eyes gazing down at you. You didn’t miss the shine that they lacked however, now they possessed a matt finish instead portraying someone different from that hopeful 21 year old. He was never going to be like that, that wasn’t him anymore. Maybe that's why loving the new version was just as important to you, to cradle him the same way you did when he failed an exam or when his girlfriend dumped him. He still needed you to be the same. To be something in his life that was a wall he could lean on or a bed he could rest with. A home.

“Me too” Was all he responded, the smile slowly fading into the tight lipped one he sported more often. His hands never left your arms, instead tightening their grip around your bicep. Not enough to hurt or for you to flinch back on – almost like he was testing you were real.

Leon instantly felt the warmth of your space, a comforting hug he had surely missed since being away. The pictures of your childhood shared with him scattered around the apartment in golden frames like he was some angel and important figure in your life to deserve such luxury. “The spare room is all set up for you. You do remember where it was right?” You asked him, now leaning against the kitchen counter as you observed his unsteady steps into your home. His heavy duffel bag was clearly heavy with his baggage as it caused him to lean more on one side, its contents weighing him down in a shade of army green. “Yeah, If I get lost I’ll just scream for you” He teased. “If you do then make sure it’s like the one you did in the haunted maze that one time. I need a good laugh”

“You and me both”

His form retreated down the hall and you got set on making drinks, the coffee machine whirring loudly in a fight to brew the pot. A noise you had grown used to, having to choose between luxuries to upgrade in this economy. You watched the coffee slowly drip out as your mind wandered elsewhere, now finding yourself contemplating if your plans for the week were too much for him. You hadn’t really considered what Leon would have wanted this week to be, whenever it was for him to relax and lounge around or create memories he could think about whilst he was away.

You chose the second option, the fridge decorated in a pretty list with the itinerary of the next few days which was pinned by the gimmick travel magnets Leon gifted you of all the places he’s travelled to. You hoped that by creating a list of activities to do with him you would gain opportunities to refresh the pictures on your walls. To swap out a few of the younger ones of you both with an older more recent version. After all, you didn’t have anyone else to fill them with; Leon still managed to be one of the only people that were a constant in your life despite the past 6 years being the busiest for him. Whenever he knew or not, he had set a pretty high standard for the quality of friendship you were looking for.

Of course the plans could be subjected to change if he really didn’t want to do them. The last thing you wanted to do was add more stress in his life. Which is where the silent deal you had made came in, the one that you created after making sure that giddy teenager that was still inside you knew why it was important this week to handle your feelings. Spending the last few years in silence on your feelings even though the news of his break up 6 years ago was exciting for you. The event then caused you to create plans to ask him out once he settled in his new job.

Maybe in another life it would have worked out that way and you could have both ended up being childhood sweethearts, the cutest couple in the precinct he would work at. Small children running around in a home filled with nothing but love. You would be adorned with a golden ring upon your finger showing off the stable relationship you both created.

Relationships don't work in his world anymore, there were too many risk factors not only with the security he needed up hold but the target that now forever remained on his back with crazed scientists. You knew this after he ranted to you during a drunken confession a few years after Raccoon City; where he was spilling the beans about the kiss with Ada and the complicated emotions he felt after losing her. His job no longer allowed him to have attachments like that, he knew the risks and saw the outcomes of where work mixed with family. He needed to keep you safe, he wouldn't know what would happen to him if he lost you. The thought scares him more than any bio weapon he had faced recently and with his last mission there were a few nightmarish ones.

“That thing sure sounds like it needs a replacement” Leon joked from the doorway. He had shredded his previous clothes, now dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie instead of the jeans and leather jacket. His frame had now visibly relaxed more since he dropped off the duffle bag, it was now hidden away in the spare room he would be staying in. “Maybe Santa will get me one for Christmas,” You replied, smiling at him. His laugh was loud, nodding his head in agreement, “Guess I know what costume to buy next along with a coffee machine. Oh and this is for you”

He threw a small striped bag at you, small tears in the paper where it had clearly been through travel. Stuffed somewhere amongst his luggage. You knew it was a magnet by its familiar weight, pulling the item out to be met with the reds and yellows of the spanish flag. “Another one for your collection” He said whilst he moved from the doorway to the kitchen, leaning up against the counter in a casual manner. “You were in Spain?”

“Only a few days, this was a particularly rough mission…” He sighed, his eyes refusing to look at the thing like even looking at the spelling of the place was a trigger. Ah so this trip was purely business and not pleasure. Instead of proudly displaying it on the front of the fridge, you placed it on the side out of sight. Unless you wanted to get up in the dying coffee machines business. You watched as his features soften when you turned around, the small action solidifying his reasoning for being here. You didn’t pry or question him on what happened, instead you offered silent support. Showing it in smaller actions, like moving a fridge magnet out of his sight.

“You can sit in the living room and choose something to watch, you don’t have to wait with me” You said before hopping up on the counter, sitting with your legs swinging in the air. Consistent soft thuds echoing in the space as your feet softly thudded against the cabinet doors. “I’m good, besides I’m sure watching this coffee machine struggle to make a full pot is more entertaining than the shit that's on TV nowadays” He joked, his biceps contracting as he lifted his frame on the counter. The two of you were close enough that if you swung your legs out you were sure to clash with him.

“You have a funny idea of entertaining” You laughed, poking him with your foot in a poor attempt to irritate him. You could feel his toned muscles in his thighs, despite them squishing slightly as you put pressure on them whilst they were relaxed. He let out a soft grunt as you accidentally pressed against a particularly tender spot, his hand soon rubbing the spot to ease the ache. It was your only sign that there were still a few stubborn bruises lingering on his body.

Now you knew the location he had come from, the news covering the return of the president's daughter whilst praising the lone agent that helped her return home from spain; it didn’t take a genius to figure out where he had just returned from. Plus if you were right on your assumption it made sense that he was still healing not only mentally but physically. Yet since he had arrived you haven't spotted any signs that he was affected by it.

You could tell he had been through hell though from the amount of scrapes that littered his face. Though they were now faded to a light pink but it didn’t help your nerves. It never did. “What’s this then?” He asked, a thud sounding through the kitchen as he hopped off the counter walking towards the fridge. Your cheeks flushed with heat as he removed the numerous magnets that pinned the sticker covered week plan. You watched as he read it over, the piece of paper looking silly in his hands. “I made a plan for the week, things we can do but we don’t have to if you want to just watch movies or play games…” You stumbled, your words spewing out fast creating a blabbled mess.

He turned to you with the paper crinkling in his hands before displaying a large, genuine smile at you. “Thank you, this is thoughtful and I can’t wait. Though I’m not carrying you ass up the hiking trail you have planned in 2 days”

“I can handle it, I picked a beginners route. Just don’t leave me behind now you are all macho man”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t worry”

Once the coffee had finally brewed the two of you moved to the living room, sipping on the beverage over gossip that you had collected since he was away. Stalking facebook together looking at all the people you had once known and how their lives panned out, joking about them in subtle jealousy at their presumed success in their lives.

You both did it for hours in fits of giggles until it led you up to now. Where pizza now sat in your laps, warming up the large blanket you both shared. The grease catching on your shirts as you both attempted to get the slices in your mouths before the toppings fell off. Being with Leon left no room for judgment; not when you had been in every stage of each other's life since high school. Witnessing every crash out, job promotions and of course the nightmares you knew still plagued him. An unspoken rule in your home that he would forget about everything in his life. The rule was created by himself to avoid talking about it.

One of the good things about the night is that Leon’s phone remained in the bedroom, left abandoned on the bedside table for once. It's not like he had anyone to contact anyway, his most frequent texter was besides him laughing at the stupid movies with tomato sauce in the corner of her lips. As the night went on he found himself watching the way your eyes seemed to sparkle in the TV light as well as at the feeling of your toes tucking themselves under his thighs with the pizza boxes now discarded on the coffee table in front of you. Leon craved for you to be closer. To have your weight on his lap like those weight blankets everyone suggested he got. To smell the perfume that lingered in your hair as you over sprayed yourself with the scent in the day.

He craved a normal life with you, a relationship filled with trust, love and honesty. Something he couldn’t give you; instead he settled for the knowledge that you were in the room next to his, smiling at him softly as you both retreated to bed. The promise of good dreams leaving each other's lips in a warm goodnight.

Day 2

It wasn’t a surprise to you that you would find him awake before you, his body clock had never fully fixed itself since the training days he had to endure. Whilst they crafted the most glorious figure you had the pleasure of seeing, it must be annoying to suffer with the linger effects of the early rising. At least it would be for you. However, he didn’t seem to mind not when you heard the poor overworked coffee machine doing its thing as you padded down the corridor. The noise accompanied by the smell of bacon and eggs.

“What if breakfast in bed was one of the treats I wanted to do for you?” You spoke, watching as his frame jolted slightly at the unexpected intrusion. You felt bad watching as he tensed, the spatula he was using to flip the bacon swaying slightly with his movements. “I didn’t mean to scare you sorry”

Leon smiled softly acknowledging your apology as he turned around, watching your form slither into one of the stools that lined the breakfast bar. “It’s fine, I’m not normally this jumpy” He muttered, sleep still lingering in his speech, signifying to you that he wasn’t long up before you. His voice is an octave lower than normal, with a tinge of raspiness to it, the sound caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach as you tried to will the daydreams of waking up next to him away. “Bad sleep?” You asked, resting your head on your palms as you watched him. He shrugged, pouring the coffee into a mug for you, serving it with yet another tight lipped smile. “Don’t think I’ve had a good one in a few years” He muttered.

It hurt that you knew he wasn’t lying, that he was truly plagued by all the wrong doings in his life. Things that you couldn’t even picture coming to life and hunting him down just because he wanted to do right by the world when he was a rookie. You nodded, your words silenced by a sip of the coffee. Sympathy was all you could offer him, there wasn’t much else that you could do for him that didn’t involve breaking the clear wall he had built around himself which you respected. He wanted you to be close but at arms length, your role in comfort more of a distraction for him instead of a therapist. It worked before, after raccoon city he ranted to you about everything that happened but as he grew older he knew that was a mistake now. One he wouldn’t do again, he needed you safe, he couldn’t– wouldn’t lose you.

Watching his body language carefully was a skill that had become critical in recent years. His mood showed through the way he presented himself instead of words now.

“So the aquarium today?” He asked, sliding a plate in front of you eggs and bacon displayed in a smiley face. You chuckled at the silliness of it despite everything he still manages to make you smile so in return your smile beamed at him as you looked up. “Objecting on the first day? You wound me” You joked a gasp following your words for dramatic effect. Your knife slicing through the perfectly cooked breakfast with ease; if there was one thing that leon could make, it was a really good breakfast. “No no! It's just an interesting one, I don’t think I’ve been to one in years” He defended, his body moving around the space of your home comfortably as he cleaned up after himself. “Hey, I thought one cooks and the other clean–” You objected to his activity, quickly eating the meal without choking to help him out. Only to be laughed at, his finger pointing to the clock on the wall “That rule applies to someone that didn’t sleep in and will take a while to get ready”

“I do not!” You called back at him walking out of the room to get ready for the day.

It didn’t take long to get ready even with Leons complaints. Leon insisted that he drove despite your protests and proclaims of his terrible driving. His jeep was comfortable at least, having his hands behind the wheel felt like he was in control for once. Your safety was his current priority whilst you sang your heart out next to him. The tickets were slightly overpriced in his opinion but then it had been a while since he had done an outing like this. “Could have bought my own seahorse with money” he mumbled under his breath as he swiped the card to pay, of course he had to treat you to this. “Maybe we can steal you one instead” You laughed.

Leon struggled to think of a time he had been able to spend with anyone that wasn’t in a life or death situation; either on the field or by a mountain of paperwork in his opinion. He wasn’t arguing though, his pet seahorse could wait if you were going to look at him like that. He followed you like a lost puppy, your face practically glowing with excitement the closer you got.

“Where do you want to start?” You asked him, looking at the information center attempting to memorize all the zones you could explore trying to figure out the route of the day. “Aren’t the rooms filled with the same thing?” He asked you, laughing slightly at your frown as you turned to face him. “Well yeah, but maybe there’s a certain way to view them all better?” You muttered, referring to the many other forms of information, piles of brochures in your hands as you flicked through them. Your head starts to cloud in the thoughts to ensure the day is perfect for him to look back on.

The effort you were giving with just the route was enough to slowly melt his heart. His hand reached out for yours to tug you away from the crowd of families that were walking one way. “Let’s go away from the crowd then we can enjoy the silence together” He prompted, smiling at you softly as he tugged on your arm once again. You looked at the numerous people and then looked back at him. Your frown slowly turned into a grin again, nodding as you began to lead him. Your hand still sat snugly in his.

There were only so many fish that Leon could honestly look at before he got bored and they all started to look the same. Maybe it was the fact he was outside trying to fit in with normal life again after so many years of living in a repeated bubble of work and you. He was trying to think of the right things to say, normal conversation topics despite having a plethora of conversation topics with you. He dissociated even though he attempted to read what you were looking at, his face offering you a fake toothy grin as you pointed at your favourite fish in the tank.

You were so excited, buzzing with this energy that made you feel easy to be around. Yet, he could feel the lingering effect of the nightmare he faced, his eyes scanning for every exit in the room you would enter. Trying to think of the perfect path to get you out safely.

“Hey, are you good?” You asked him finally after noticing his distracted state. Your hand landing on his bicep with a comforting squeeze and an attempt not to gawk at the firmness of it. Leon looked down at you, seeing how your face was adorned with the pity smile he's been accustomed to for years now. A frequent one that you displayed. “I’m good” He muttered, nodding his head in a bobbing motion as if that helped his case. You could see it, the truth, the hidden sadness he attempted to hide behind words displayed clear as day in the blues of his eyes. Rather than ask him to bring up what’s distracting him in such a public place you offered to change the topic. Your hand once again in his as you began to lead him away towards the next room. “I think you’ll like the next room. It’s always my favorite”

Manta rays swirled around the room in calming laps, small fish weaving in between them. The blue of the water fills the room with a calming tone. You both stood next to each other in silence, watching the fish swirl around in patterns, your hands close to touching. Close enough that if you twitched a finger it would brush against his. You admired his features in the blue light. The one harsher features now softened as the silence calmed the two of you, his eyes bright with wonder and amazement as he watched the soft swirls of the bubbles as the fish danced. For a second he looked like the hopeful kid again, dreaming of the future as he still had hope and wonder for it. “Do you like it?” You asked him. Leon smiled, a softer one than he normally adorned “I can see why it’s your favourite, it’s so pretty in here”

The silence that surrounded the two of you was comfortable, enough for you to lean against his arm. Leon’s fingers twitched finding yours before they wrapped around your hands in a silent confirmation that you were there.

It wasn’t until he saw the crowd filtering in through the reflection of the glass that he began to grow nervous again. The exits are no longer visible or easily accessible should things go wrong. You felt as his body jolted, his hand tightening around yours as the excited screams of children filled the room. Their hands pounding and swiping against the glass as they looked at the fish. His eyes screwed shut, his breathing slowly becoming uneven as he tried to focus on anything but the noise. The thudding sounded too familiar to the undead banging throughout the station.

It only seemed to grow louder the longer you stayed. With his eyes screwed shut he didn’t notice your face appearing in front of him, couldn’t acknowledge concern that littered all over it. Leon’s thoughts spiraled, self pity filling him quickly as he grew aware that he was fucking up again; ruining the day for you just because he could handle the noise of a few children. He felt ashamed that he couldn’t handle the crowd of people that began to surround you both. Leon’s hand was tightly holding onto yours, the grip almost crushing as you tried to calm him down.

You called his name, he heard it in the distance, mellowed out like you were in some dystopian world. Your heart broke as you felt him flinch, his eyes shooting open in a mad panic as you placed your earphones in his ears. The music instantly filters out the other sounds allowing him to focus on slowing his breathing again. You guided his hand to your chest, breathing deeply and then holding an exhale smiling slightly as you watched his chest begin to expand in the same manner. Your smile was comforting to him as he finally looked at you.

Leon didn’t argue when you walked him out the door, his hand gripping yours tightly like a lifeline. You could feel him squeeze it harder as his palms grew sweaty causing his grip to slip as you walked faster. The sun beamed on his skin as you both finally made it outside, bypassing the numerous knick knacks in the gift shop you had requested to view earlier. You didn’t care not when he wasn’t okay, experiencing a panic attack despite his claims that he doesn’t have them.

You watched as he took out the headphones, passing them back to you with guilt lacing his eyes. “I’m sorry” He whispered, his eyebrows pinched displaying his emotions for once to you. He hated how his shadow loomed over you, keeping you hidden from the sunlight – preventing you from growing into the perfect person he knew you would be without him. “Don’t be”

You said it like a fact, like it was easy to say. There wasn’t anger in your features, there wasn’t any negativity crashing against him in an angry wave like he’s faced recently. You held no expectation from him. You didn’t want him to be anything other than himself. Even if that meant he came with the burdens he carried with him. “You were enjoying your time but the kids– they sounded like–” he stuttered whilst his hands clenched at his sides, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked down in shame. “Leon, you don’t have to explain with me. It’s fine. There will be plenty of other times to steal your seahorse” You joked, smiling at the chuckle he gave off. His shoulders no longer shake because of his fears but instead waves of laughter.

“Come on, you can drive the death trap. I need the rest anyway for our hike tomorrow” You laughed, chucking the keys from your back at him. “It’s not a death trap” He sighed as he opened the door for you, smiling at the sound of laughter. “It is when you are driving”

Day 3

Leon watched in amusement as your face slowly formed into horror as you looked at the size of the mountain you had planned to scale. The peak was barely visible even as you craned your neck at an awkward angle to see it from under the windshield. It was hard for him to not look over you as you wore the most basic yet cutest outfit to climb in, though to ignore his request at changing your footwear. Offering him a complaint about how he doesn’t trust the strength of your ankles. “Why did I pick this one?” You sighed as you both got out of the car. Despite the ending of yesterday Leon was filled with hope that today would be better.

His sleep was still plagued with nightmares. The echoed sound of footsteps woke him up in a fright, the duvet half spilling off the side of the bed as he scrambled out of it to scan for danger. He was however met with a sleepy version of you stumbling to the bathroom clumsily and half asleep. He didn’t fall asleep after that, instead laying in bed listening for the soft close of your door and the traffic outside.

“You picked it not me, I had no say. Not even in the shoe choice apparently” He laughed, pulling gently on your ponytail as he walked past you. Stepping onto the threshold of the nature reserve. “Yeah well these shoes have never failed me before” You sighed looking down at the trainers you decided to wear. This was definitely the better choice of activity for him, you watched him stroll next to you relaxed. It was cute that he made sure to match your pace, clearly having enough stamina to be able to run up the hill whilst you took it easy. There was no urgency to rush this, no one was chasing him up this hill. No one was screaming his name in fear as he turned his back. It was just you and him.

He made sure you both took regular breaks, his chest heaving slightly as the heat of the sun bore down on the both of you. His hoodie was stripped a while ago now, displaying his biceps whilst the clothing item is now hanging from the side of his bag. “I think we are just over half way” He spoke, glancing at the distance you travelled and how far you had left to go. It was an attempt to comfort you, a poor one at that. “Great. Are you still stuck on the promise of not carrying me up the hill?” You asked laying back against the rock you were perched on. His laugh caused you to smile and look at him from where he was leant against the tree. “Maybe on the way down”

You slid off your backpack, letting it land next to you on the ground with a thud. “What are you doing?” Leon asked as you stood up, stretching out your legs briefly before turning to him. “It’s a great spot for some few photos” You admitted. Your hands already tugged the backpack off his shoulders and dumped it next to yours. Leon watched as you propped the phone up against a tree, a timer set and beeping as you ran back towards him. “Quick come here and pose” You instructed, wrapping an arm around his waist holding him close with a large smile plastered on your face.

Leon attempted one of his own, the action not really feeling natural to him at first. Until you started to take more, running back and forth with less complaints than you had previously been doing up the trail. The infamous rabbit ears came out to play, the laughter you both shared was sure to be heard from anywhere. However, at this moment it was just the two of you.

“Here hop on” Leon said as you set up the camera for one last photo. You turned to him hunched over, bracing himself for the impact of you on his back. You smiled widely at him, eyes full of excitement as you ran and jumped on. He gasped as he stumbled, his own belly laugh spilling out as caught himself. The photo was his favourite, you tell as he instantly begged you to send it to him despite leaving his phone at home still. It had never left its spot on the bedside table. “Come on, the next photoshoot location is at the top” He teased, sliding the backpack on his shoulders one more. He chuckled at your unenthusiastic groan, your feet scraping along the ground as you walked back to your bag.

You smiled to yourself as Leon helped situated the pack properly on your back. Ensuring it was the right height and tightness to avoid any aches later on. His hands brushed against your sides causing you to shiver, your face flushed as you looked forward to being met with his chest previously unaware of how close you actually were to each other. “Uh– all good?” You croaked out, chuckling nervously as you watched his eyes roam your figure once more to ensure you were all good. He didn't do this back at the start, in fact he had sighed and complained as you spent a while adjusting the pack. Even going as far as to make a comment about you being a nagging mother when you pestered him about his. “Looks good to me yeah” he spoke quietly, smiling softly with a small pink tinge on his cheeks. Leon coughed once, stepping back on his heels before spinning dramatically to continue forward.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, I should have been more considerate of the crowds” you spoke after a while, the top was closer now, your words breaking the comfortable silence you were both in. Leon didn't respond at first, his gaze landing on the scenery over the edge of the trail, following the vast shades of green as they plagued the valley. He was unsure on how to answer. It was touching that you were of such a pure heart to feel the need to apologize over something that wasn't your fault. He had every chance to change the activity, to offer something else as his first day diving into the real world again. “You don't have to be sorry,” he said, turning to look at you. He watched your feature twist into uncertainty, your mind clearly in a battle with yourself and guilt over the panic attack he experienced.

“You've been through a lot with no real break, I should have thought about that. You just got back from that mission – warned by the government to take it easy. I ignored it in favor of a few memories”

“Thinking about the manta rays and the silence yesterday comforted me last night” Leon stated bluntly. He wasn't lying, when laying awake in an attempt to fall back asleep he found himself thinking about the blue that surrounded them, the small moment of calmness he experienced as he watched the swirls of everything– as he watched you. He can still picture the cute smile you wore as you stared in wonder at all of it as you looked at the beauty in everything. The same way you looked at him in the carpark and when you said goodnight later on in the evening. You still had hope and wonder in the world, you weren't plagued by the horrors he has seen, by the corruption he's witnessed destroy an entire city. It was a reminder why he endured everything, why he kept going for you– it was always for you.

“What do you mean?” You asked him, your shoes scuffing on the dirt beneath them as you paused watching his frame walk away until he noticed you stopped. “The nightmares are worse than before– because of my last mission but I thought of yesterday last night– it helped”

“Nightmares? You can wake me Leon, I don't mind…I can sit with you or something”

“I know but even I know you need your beauty sleep” he laughed. You rolled your eyes scoffing slightly at his comment. “Whatever” you whispered, shoving him slightly as you walked past. Not that it did anything but move his arm slightly, the mountain of muscle he had sculpted around his heart was a hard wall to defeat. “I’ll race you to the top” he teases, rushing past you in a light job. His blond hair bouncing with his movement, the smile that graced his features growing wider by the second. “Oh yeah because that's a fair challenge” you sighed as you chased after him. Not a care in the world as you both passed the public who began their descent. Your later start to the hike meant that as you reached the top you would be blessed with the setting sun, the hues of oranges and reds decorating the sky like a painting.

It was a beautiful sight to behold as you finally breached the last climb. The clouds surround you in small wisps of white, not quite thick enough to prevent you from seeing the woodlands and valley. Leon smiled at you, a large toothy grin that he would have presented you with years ago. He finally felt free, like he was on top of everything by his own choice. Not told to scale a mountain to save a girl, there was no Bio weapon for him to fight at the top. It was just you and him. “No need to look so smug” you groaned when you finally reached the top, your lungs burning as you forced air into them. Leon snickered at your comment, his arms outstretched on top of his head as he caught his breath. You watched as his chest expanded with the movement, practically waving it in your face again causing your cheeks to flush and look away.

You slumped on a rock next to him, leaning your head against his knee as you stared out over the clouds. His hand landed on your head, playing with the soft strands of your hair slightly. “That can’t be comfy,” Leon teased as he moved your head away slightly to sit down. Once you were both shoulder to shoulder – the awkwardness you once shared about his proximity now faded, he allowed your head to rest against his shoulder. Silence enveloped you once more but the lingering thoughts and unspoken words suffocated the two of you. Unable to navigate the landmines of your feelings that were beginning to pop up.

You never really spent much time together anymore, his schedule always too busy for you. Your feelings were taken with him whenever he left you, yet everytime without fail he brought them back. It always felt like they grew when he did come home. That seeing his hardened features change every time he stood behind your door reminded you for how long you wanted it – waited for the chance to speak about it. Maybe in another universe he would never have slurred those drunken ideals about his relationship, never spilled the secrets of his brain that left you broken. You hope for a future with him briefly snuffed out.

“What do you think life has in store for us?” You asked him, looking up at his face from where you were still resting on his shoulder. Leon again couldn’t answer you at first, his own desires in life either forgotten or abandoned over his choices no longer feeling like his own. This week was the first in 6 years that he was actually able to decide who to go to, where to hang out. Even if it was just as simple as this. Staring at the setting sun with his favourite person. “I’m not sure. Something good I hope” He replied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders tugged you closer to him. Shielding you from the cold that crept in the shadows as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“Do you think we will always be a part of each other's future?” You mumbled. “Always”

You had half a brain to not ask in what way. To not admit the feelings you have been craving to admit. You didn’t want to ruin the day with the inevitable rejection he would give. Instead you stood up holding your hand out to him to offer what strength you have to pull him up – like you always did. “Did you bring a hoodie?” Leon asked as he took off his pack to put his own on. “No I didn’t think it would be this cold” You admitted, jumping on the spot slightly to warm up your joints. “Here”

His hoodie laid outstretched to you in his grip with a reassuring smile on his features. “Won’t you get a cold?” You asked him, sliding the fabric over your frame. It was an effort to not inhale the lingering scent of him. “The cold doesn’t bother me as much anymore, not after the last mission. I lost my favorite leather jacket right at the start” He mourned playfully. The two of you walked next to each other once more, your hands occasionally brushing against his. “The brown leather one? With the fur”

“That’s the one”

You sighed dramatically, pretending you weep over its loss with a smile. “That was the best one you owned,” You said. Leon nodded, chuckling at your reaction. “Well then I guess I gotta go shopping again. Good job I have my stylist here” He joked, nudging your shoulder. “It's a good job that we have a shopping day tomorrow”

The car ride back was silent, the two of you too worn out to create any kind of conversation. His rock Cd’s filtered through the car lulling you to sleep briefly. Leon occasionally glanced at your form from where it was pressed against the window, your nose buried in the collar of his hoodie. You looked so soft – so tempting to claim and take for himself. His one good thing in this world.

Day 4

He was surprised to find that you were awake before him, the muffled yells of frustration catching his attention. Instead as the daylight cracked through the curtains he found no real rush to go and see what was happening, trusting that you were okay. Assuming that if something was really wrong you would have come and woken him up. Leon chose to take a brief moment to just lay there, listening to you fight with what he presumed was the Coffee machine and the low hum of the music you were playing. For the first time in four days he reached for his phone, ignoring the emails he had gotten from the reports he presented them with. Ignoring the texts from the few– one– coworker that cared about him.

Leon was going to shop for a coffee machine, have it delivered by the end of the week for you so you wouldn’t have to fight with this one anymore. He knew you would argue if he asked you about it so he was going to do it on his own accord, getting ready to open the browser. He didn’t get that far though, not when your spam of messages caught his attention. It was all the photos you had taken yesterday. Leon smiled at the sight of the joy on your faces, smiling like you were both teenagers again. His favourite by far was the impromptu one with you on his back, your hair whipping around in a blur looking up at him with a smile whilst his beamed back. Neither of you were looking at the camera, you were only looking at each other. The coffee machine shopping was long forgotten about as he set the picture as his home and lockscreen before throwing the covers off to find you.

“Morning” You chimed to him, a smile plastered on your face already as he walked through the door. The warmth that radiated off you was always amazing to him. “Morning” He grumbled back, sliding into the breakfast bar like you did with him a few days ago. Unlike you though Leon didn’t wear the cute pink apron or have flour on every surface. “What on earth–” he questioned as he looked at the white footprints that started to blend together as you continued to move around the kitchen. “I tried to make pancake batter but the flour bag was stubborn, so it went everywhere” You snickered looking down at the mess you had made everywhere. “Seems I’m not as good at making breakfast as you are”

Leon laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his head tilted back slightly. His own actions shocked him, it had been years since he laughed like this. “Well at least we both agree on something” He teased, looking down at the plate you slid across to him. Heart shaped pancakes topped with some chocolate chips and strawberry sauce. It was just so effortless for you. “Cute”

You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting from him at the sight of the pancakes, hoping for anything but a negative one but his one word answer still made you giggle. The heat doing an olympic sprint to your face again as you watched him groan at the flavour, devouring them like you had starved him for the past few days. “I feel like the heart made me feel all the extra love” He admitted, looking up at you with his goofy smile. It was refreshing to see him relaxed now; even if it took you 4 days to reach this point. “If you count the mess I made and the screaming at the coffee machine for it to do its job then sure” You laughed, your body relaxing now he seemed to enjoy the food and the company.

The idle chatter that filled the rest of the morning was perfect, making you both feel like there wasn’t anything wrong. No hidden feelings, no hidden secrets about the world's corruption – no it was just you and him. In the small apartment that felt like home.

Leon sat on the bed once more, looking down at the small device in his hands going over the emails he had ignored. Replying to Hunnigan’s text chain of concern with a thumbs up emoji to at least let her know he was still alive. He knew there would be questions of where he ended up and how he chose to spend his time off. Your safety was too important for them to know you exist, their curiosity would put you in danger, even more so that the heartbroken and scared 21 year old self told you the events of that night.

A knock at his door drew his attention away from his phone, he looked up to find you in the cutest dress, one of his older jackets draped over your frame. You were his perfect girl, proudly standing in front of him like a cute angel– a sweet for him to take. Yet, he didn't; instead he smiled and nodded at your pleas for him to hurry up, a light blush coating his cheeks as you checked him over in an attempt to be subtle, forgetting how perspective he was now.

All Leon needed to do was reach out and grab your hand for you both to look like the perfect couple. Your arm brushed against his often, your proximity only growing closer as you both entered the busy mall. “You good?” You asked him quietly, your eyes shining with concern as you glanced at him. At first he was confused as to why you were even asking him until he looked up and remembered the crowds. The chatter of salesmen trying to get them to come over, the families running around trying to get every toy store was almost too much for him. Then you held his hand, gripped it with a gentle squeeze like it was natural for you to do so. Leon didn’t let go– not when you dragged him gently to follow you, guiding him through the crowds to the stores you wanted. Just like he would guide you through them if it turned bad.

But it wouldn’t go bad, this was just a normal day and you were just being kind. He let you guide him into a small jewellery store, watching as you looked over the glass cages pointing at a few of the smaller pieces to try on. You presented him with your wrist, a simple silver bracelet decorated in small vines balanced around it. He helped you put it on, his rough fingertips from all the fighting brushing against your soft skin. If he pressed slightly harder he would feel your pulse, part of him wanted to know if it was going as quickly as his. If you were as nervous as he was as he fumbled with the tiny clasp. He was hyper aware of your attention, your soft delicate smile as you looked at him.

He found his thoughts drifting to wonder what the rest of your skin would feel like under his touch. If your breath would falter when his lips grazed it in soft kisses. He yearned to see you, all of you – laid bare for him to admire and take. To be selfish to the world and keep you as the treasure you are.

Leon’s eyes softened as you admired the silver bangle, watching it as it glinted in the bright lights of the store. Something so simple pleased you, just like every magnet he gave you or the small amount of time you both got to spend together.

“You guys are such a cute couple”

The comment made him freeze, his hands nervously clenching at his sides as his eyes displayed his panic. Was he being that obvious? Could you see his feelings? Instead you ignored her comment, offering the salesman a smile and an awkward chuckle. He felt himself dissociate as he watched you buy the bracelet, the item still wrapped around your wrist. He couldn’t help the yearning pull he felt towards you, the way his hand itched to hold yours again, to feel the weight and warmth of it like it belonged there.

You grinned at him, holding your hand out for him to take once more as you left as if you knew his nerves disappeared when you were close.

“Do you have a store you want to go to?” You asked him as you both sat down a few hours later. Pools of shopping bags littered the area underneath your feet as you both waited for the burger you just ordered to arrive. Leon’s head was turned, looking out the window at all the people passing by before it turned again to look at all the people in the restaurant. Your soft smile made his heart falter again when he finally looked at you. “No– I’m all good,” He stuttered nervously. Leon could feel your knee against his, confused as to why he was suddenly hyper aware of your touch.

“Are you sure? I feel like we have only looked at the stuff I wanted to” You spoke again, nudging his knee again as his attention drifted away. Leon smiled softly, nodding with his hair falling over his eyes briefly. “I’m sure, I have everything I need”

Your eyes scanned over him, peering into the cracks that were slowly revealing themselves whenever he knew it or not. “Okay well once we have eaten we can leave, I know you wanted to watch that movie” You said. Leon hummed in agreement, already eyeing up the food that was now being placed in front of you both, trying to desperately think about anything else that wasn’t you.

Day 5

It seems to be a pattern now that he has one day free from nightmares and one that will plague him. Leave him defensive against the visions and blur of all the things that have happened to him. Ada, The station, Ashley, Krasuer, Luis…all plaguing the concerns of his dreams as a shout of his name – a taunting reminder that despite all the effort he put to make sure people are safe he failed. Time and time again. Except with you.

Tonight, he watched them get you; take you away from him as punishment for spilling his secrets. The ones he swore to never tell. He watched them hurt you and Sherry, the only two people he still had a promise to keep safe, one that surpassed his own duties. He heard your screams, your yells for him to come and help you. The corridor he ran down was familiar, the marble flooring splashing with blood as the thunder crackled around you both. He had been here before you hadn’t. It felt like the corridor kept getting longer, his feet not fast enough to help you. Your name was a war cry from his lips, his throat hoarse and dry the more he screamed it. He pleaded with whatever curel god had bestowed this upon him to stop. Your cries were devastating, pleading and begging for him to get there faster – not saying anything else except his name.

You had heard his yell, the harshness and fear of it causing you to jolt out of sleep. You didn’t even bother to wait to see if it stopped, not with how raw and painful it was. Instead you sprinted, the door crashing against the wall loudly probably not helping whatever nightmare he was stuck in. You found him sitting up shaking with his head in his hands. Leon flinched at the sound of your footsteps, flinched again as the thunder crashed throughout the room. “Leon?” You spoke firmly once you hit the edge of the bed.

It broke you to see his curled form, the shoulders that heaved with every sob. Your hand landed on his arm, soothing a path to his shoulder as you began to bring him into a hug. It didn’t matter you could feel his shirt damp with sweat or his tears falling onto your own as he crushed you. “Are you okay?” he whimpered, his red rimmed eyes looking you over scanning you for the blood he saw in his dreams. For the bites that littered your skin, the slashes from numerous other horrid creatures he experienced. “I’m okay”

You smiled softly at him, holding him gently against you as his breathing evened out. He was meant to protect you, meant to keep you safe – even in his dreams he failed.

“Leon look, I’m fine” You said, cupping his face gently to lift his head. Your smile was cute and touching, a breath of fresh air for him. He nodded, unable to find the words to say as his grip remained tight. In perhaps a poor lapse of judgment you leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you in years. It felt right and natural the way his lips crashed against yours – whilst they remained unmoving at first you felt his grip tighten on you. Holding you impossibly closer to him. Leon didn’t let you pull away once he was out of his trance, his brain working quickly to make up for the lack of reaction in a hungry and messy kiss.

His actions spoke louder than words as he softened, whimpered at the taste of you as he gained access inside. His trust was being placed in you as you crawled into his lap; your fingers entwining in the soft strands of hair that fell on the nap of his neck. It was hard not to notice the growing bulge that was between the two of you as it began to throb and twitch beneath you. Leon’s hands fell to your hips gripping them tightly as you subconsciously began to rock against him. He damn near purred at the petting, at the long strokes you gave him lovingly like he was a feral cat.

Perhaps he was this untamable creature that lived through his own desire to live during missions – was now purring in the lap of his long lost owner. The one that has always had his heart. The woman in red that seemed to be a recurring character in his life now forgotten about as his tongue swirled with yours in a desperate fight of dominance. To feel this, to feel you grinding against him like no tomorrow he would happily submit as long as you never stopped. The pleasure causing his dream to fade away, forgotten about as you made your presence known to him.

He didn't think that all this was a distraction for him to get lulled back to sleep. Maybe you weren’t as hungry for him as he was for you, maybe you were crossing a line that you didn’t know about. His attachment and claim only grew stronger as he kissed down your neck, biting the flesh softly then licking the marks to soothe the pain he caused. “Leon–” You whimpered, your head thrown back allowing him more skin to taste– to explore.

He laid you down beneath him, his erections pointed prominently at you as he kissed your lips again. The mixed saliva becomes an irresistible gloss coating your lips. Your eyes were wild as they looked up at him holding a different story to the smile your lips presented him with. “What are we doing here?” He whispered, his leg now inbetween yours. He could feel the heat of your cunt against the thin fabric of his sweats. “Whatever you want” You responded, leaving the balls in his court. After all you would have caved years ago all to feel the burn of his love as he thrusts inside you. “I want you–”

Fuck – your grin was tempting, he could feel all his restraint leave as your hips ground on his thigh. Breathless whimpers turning into deep moans as pleasure coursed through you, as you used him for your own pleasure. The sight was beautiful, in some weird poetic way it made him feel useful in a way that wasn’t for destruction or to fix other people's mistakes. His will for control slipping if you were going to use him like this, beg for a release only he could give you. So he clenched his thigh, the hard muscle adding pressure to the movements, your face however contorting in something that looked like frustration despite the pressure that was slowly building with the coil inside you tightening.

“What's wrong Angel?” he whispered against the shell of your ear. The warmth of it causes goosebumps to rise along your skin. “Let me help you”

“Too many clothes– Leon I can’t– I want”

He silenced you with a kiss, biting the lip softly whilst his hands fiddled with the hemline of your top; only breaking the kiss as he removed the fabric. He was thankful for the nightmare at this point, he didn’t have to fiddle with the clasp of a bra since you don’t sleep with one. Your tits now laid bare for him to play and worship. His tongue circled the bud tightly, flicking it every so often whilst he smiled at the hitch of your breath. The low stimulation was driving you insane, your fingers lacing in the blonde strands tugging him close to you, practically feeding your breast to his eager and awaiting mouth.

Leon greedily sucked and licked against your tits, playing with the other one in soft gentle squeezes whilst smirking at the way you heaved them further into him. Your hips continued their grind, your cunt begging for attention as you dry humped his leg like a horny dog. His cock now painfully hard as he thought about your waiting warmth, thoughts running over the idea of finally sinking himself in you. You whined as he pulled away, the stimulation fading fast as he retreated on his haunches. “How did I deserve you?” He praised, his eyes racking over your form, his hands once again hesitant to touch your skin as the fear and guilt of his past crept in. Unable to let him go for just a second to allow him to take a good thing, to have something he sorely needed. To have you in the way he needed. A partner. A home.

As his person.

“Because you are good and you do good” You spoke softly, holding his hand gently as you looked up at him. “I don’t-”

“You do”

In his hesitation you took over, your fingers dancing along the blond happy trail that disappeared underneath the hem of his sweats. His cock already leaking large amounts of pre cum eagerly for you to play with. You watched his cock spring out of his boxers and sweats as you exposed it in one go, the tip already blushing under your gaze. Your fingers traced his balls, following the puffy vein that ran along the underside of him before curving to the mushroomed tip. Even his cock was pretty.

Leon’s gaze fell on the bracelet you bought yesterday as it bounced along your wrist. The slow pump of his cock growing faster as his fluids loosened your movements. His body swayed with the coursing pleasure, his hands falling to your shoulders to steady himself against your fast pumps. His whines were the perfect tune, breathless and deep against the shell of your ear as he leaned over, struggling against your on-slaught of pleasure. You watched as he began to spill more pre-cum over your hands, the translucent substance looking pretty against your skin. He deserved this, all the pleasure you were willingly giving him. “Fuck- angel I’m too close…stop – please” He begged, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Leon pushed you back, making quick work to display your cunt to him in all its glistening glory. It was tempting to taste, to devour like his last meal but perhaps another time. He groaned as he felt your arousal. The slick coating his fingers as he explored your folds, briefly swirling his thumb against your puffy clit that was begging for attention. He worked his way around your body, made sure to learn every sound that left your lips and how to make them again. Leon sunk himself inside you, the stretch of his girth painful for a second before you got distracted by him latching on your tits again.

His finger tweaked the other nipple as he began to thrust, sucking against your breast greedily once more. The thunder was forgotten about as it continued to crash throughout the night, as was the rest of the nightmare as he lost himself in you. Holding onto the task of giving you pleasure in a desperate attempt to ground himself. You moaned at every drag of his cock, feeling him pull out to the tip before slamming back inside. The raw feeling of your bodies connecting caused you to pull him close.

Leons hand lifted your leg above his hip, allowing him to grind deeper inside you. His balls tightened as his speed increased, mind filled with nothing but cumming inside you. To let you feel his love as deep as he could get it. You tried to tug his head back to your breast as he moved away but he rejected the offer and he now placed his hands on the back of your thighs as he pressed them down into you. You gasped at his depth, as the brush of his cock head against your cervix. His heavy balls slapped against your ass as he worked harder for your orgasm.

He watched your silent cry, he felt your walls clench around him, the gush of your orgasm as it leaked out. With a fiery desire he finally drove himself to a finish, his cock filling your gushing cunt with him, his love in the most physical form he could.

Your legs ached as he released them, lowering them to sit around his waist as his cock still sat snuggly inside you. There wasn’t a need for words, for admissions of love and feelings as you both crossed the barriers of friends. Instead Leon kissed you, a simple but firm press. No longer fueled by the hungry desire of the connection with you. You felt him move to lay next to you, his head resting against your shoulder as you held onto him. He needed this, needed the safety of you underneath him as he protected you in sleep. The monsters in his haunted dreams would have to get him before they got you.

The idea didn’t seem so scary anymore, not when your fingers lightly scraped against his scalp, nails scratching just enough it eased the tension in his brows. Leon’s cock was still nestled inside you softening as you laid together, not wanting to lose the connection you were both currently holding together. It wasn’t long until you felt his soft snores against your chest, his muscles losing their tension as he slipped into a deep sleep. A good one for once.

He wasn’t there when morning came, his cum now dried against the skin of your thighs. You couldn’t hear the broken coffee machine willing itself to life anymore, you couldn’t smell the breakfast he would have treated you to. No, the house was silent, empty without him. The only sign of him being there was his phone on the table and the wrinkles in the sheets besides you. As you entered the bathroom you saw the lingering sign of him being here, a swipe against the condensation of the mirror, toothpaste dried on the sink.

Why did everything feel empty all of a sudden? His disappearance reminds you that this was the last full day with him, your rule now broken as you dumped a decision of feelings on him. Guilt ate away at you, the sounds of his panicked screams from his nightmare still haunting you whilst you chose to jump at the opportunity to distract him in a physical form of admitting your feelings. You just didn’t want him to feel like you were using him in his vulnerable state. The shower stream was hot as it pelted your back, you watched the water run down your body washing away everything, washing away him. Maybe he was just running an errand for you, ran out of eggs or something. He will come back, he left things here, he won't leave you. Not yet.

You felt numb as you waited, your mind filled with the feeling of him, of his mouth exploring your body. Of his silent demands of devotion he was making to you with every thrust he made. You ached for him more than before, it was cruel to wake up empty when he made you feel so full.

It was hours until he returned, his car pulling back in the drive with the crunch of the gravel. Leon could get used to the feeling of you colliding with him everytime he returned, your body fitting against his perfectly as you hugged him. “Where did you go?” You asked, pulling away to look up at him. The coffee machine was heavy as he moved it out of the way, awkwardly stretching to place it on the table next to you both. “To get some presents and plan the last day…I lost the itinerary” He chuckled. You followed his gaze to the new machine, the box in perfect condition. “You didn’t have to–”

“Trust me, I did. I was going to cry if I had to hear the other attempt to make coffee again. You deserve it for being so good to me. Even when–”

“It’s okay, thank you leon” You cut him off, placing a peck on his lips – only for him to pull you closer, deepening the simple peck into something more. “What’s my surprise?” You asked, laying your head against his chest to hear his fluttering heart. Leon never replied, only instructed you to find some shoes and pulled you out to the car.

The car ride was silent, his hand switching from the gear stick to your thigh, no longer shy with his touches as he thought about last night. Hoping to verbally claim you like he had done physically last night. It was by luck you didn’t glance back into the boot of the car. Blankets and pillows laid on it for when you both arrived at the view point. The orange hues now pale as they started to creep in with dawn approaching quickly. Part of him felt guilty for leaving you alone like that, the bed cold and empty beside you after you had spent a night helping him not feel alone anymore. He laughed at the confusion on your face as he reversed into the space. “Come on”

You followed him out of the car and to the boot, he opened it to display the set up he had been working on. Perfect for sunset watching. “Who knew you were the romantic kind?” You teased, holding his hand as you turned to him. “Do you like it? I’m sorry I left you today, I wanted it to be a surprise…I wanted to make up for everything” He admitted. You both climbed in the boot, your back resting against his chest as he held onto you tightly. These were the moments you dreamed of with the first jeep. Wishing he would drive you to places like this when he would return from the city.

“I used to dream of this, us together” You said, glancing up at him. The sun brightened his features, his eyes gaining the shine they once lost with newfound hope for his own future. The fears he once had still lingered yet they weren’t worth losing this. The connection and warmth he gained with you in his arms. For years he found himself yearning for you, for this. Wondering what the picket fence dream would look like if he finally gained it with you. It was his time to gain something, someone. Someone to love and hold, protect from everything he did.

“Me too, I was just too stupid to jump for it”

“I wouldn’t say stupid, maybe you just needed to fall a little and trust I could catch you”

“You did”

Somehow the worry of him leaving tomorrow didn’t matter anymore. Not when he was tied to your soul and heath, with promising touches and lingering kisses he had left behind to keep you longing for more. To keep you excited for more.

“I think I’ve always loved you like this, Leon” You admitted. Leon smiled against the crown of your head, holding you close to him as he admitted back, “I think I always will love you like this angel”

#~mads rambles #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x you

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hheonki · 22 days ago

Text

ೀ C U GIRL (／＼)

I wanna see you girl I wanna please you girl

Alternatively: Behind the facade of rivalry, You and your bf share a secret romance—full of teasing, stolen moments, and the constant fear of getting caught in school wherein everyone believes you two can’t stand each other.

정원 x gn! reader ✦ est. secret relationship, academic rivals ★ 1.1k ✴︎ oneshot ☘︎ fluff, crack, close proximity, one curse word, Jungwon in love, playful teasing (as kids till now, still dumb)

notiza: lwk inspired by les - childish gambino but steve lacy also works me thinks

The whole school knew the rivalry between you two, but not the kisses and the sweet nothings easily spilling from your mouths, that you shared secretly.

Yang Jungwon did not care if the other students found out about your relationship, he seemed to always be in your space bubble.

More under the cut!

No matter how persistently you told him

“We can't get caught”

He would tune it out and gaze mischievously at your face as he brings up his hands to hold up your cheeks with gentleness and warmth.

Gazing with fondness and adoration as if you'd hung the stars in the sky. Introducing a new world that was once so unknown to him. Now filled with love, affection, tenderness, and soft intimacy.

Even in the classroom as the teacher in the front lecturers about Trigonometric Graphs, sitting across from you, he tries to peep toward your way, only to catch you already staring.

No matter how many times this has already happened it never seemed to change, ending with the both of you flustered and trying to concentrate on the lesson.

After classes, he whisks you away to an empty classroom. Confused, you ask “Aren't you supposed to meet up with your friends?”

“I'll meet up with them after school” Jungwon answers nonchalantly, peeking at you from time to time.

Absent-mindedly, you said “Oh well.. I'm going to work on my homework we got in the morning”.

Taking a seat on the first chair in sight you pulled out your materials.

A pout made itself evident on the boy's face, which seemed to give away he wasn't surprised by your actions.

“You seriously amaze me, everytime I pull you away from everyone's sight, you start doing school stuff”.

Glancing up at him, you squint your eyes, “I mean, what else do you want me to do?” and muttered “What if we get caught while being all lovey dovey, everyone believes we dislike each other..”

“And why's that?” asked the boy with feline like eyes. “We both know it started because of you” with a deadpan expression on your face you simply objected to his challenging question.

“What?” Jungwon drags out the question in disbelief with a frown adoring his face, a hand on his chest in mock offence.

you let out a sigh just at the thought of how annoying he was (still is).

“You would literally poke me for attention only to annoy me about how you got only one mark higher than me on your results.”

“Yeah but there was no need to kick me after!”

“Yes there was! you'd always pull my hair!”

Jungwons shoulder slumped as he took a trip down memory lane when he used to sit a seat behind you and pull at your hair, in hopes of getting your attention.

he had to admit he was glad he did so, or else he wouldn't call himself your friend and now boyfriend.

“Okay fine.. but that's what brought us together!”

He tried to convince you with an innocent look.

“You're so weird” you say with an amused laugh.

“But you like my weirdness”

“right” He challenged more than asked as he leaned over the desk to gaze down at your eyes, that he swore sparkle like the stars.

his trance wandered down to your plump lips, that called for him. The tension grew, the two of you however, quiet. As he leaned in, a sudden knock came from the classroom door.

Jungwons whole body stiffened as he stood straight like a pencil. “We should hide”

“Should we?” another knock “Hello is someone in there?” which sounded like a teacher's voice that was all too familiar.

"We should!" you whisper yell anxiously.

you grab your things to somehow hide them in the art supply cabinet. Jungwon pulls you from your waist “forget those”

“But-” you mutter but essentially give up after he drags you away “No buts babe now isn't the time..”

You hide inside the classroom storage that was usually filled with the old supplies covered in dust long forgotten but is somehow empty and clean now, which managed to fit you both as Jungwon pulled you closer toward his body.

“You alright?” he asks in a quiet tone.

"Yeah.." you could feel his shaky breath on your neck that sends goosebumps up your spine.

The classroom door opened with a ‘click’.

Footsteps seemed to near the storage, as you both looked at each other nervously but suddenly a booming voice was heard throughout the hallway which meant it was a group of rowdy friends.

The strides of the teacher became distant.

Which made you both let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

“That scared the shit out of me..”

as you looked at him he seemed to hold in his laughter, with a smack on his chest he finally burst out laughing. “Ow- What was that for?”

“We could have gotten caught!” with another smack on his arm, you try to pull away from his grip. “Yeah and we didn't, relax..” Jungwon’s hold on you only seems to tighten as you finally give in.

Leaning his head against your shoulder he inhales your scent, mumbling as suddenly a gloomy look adorned his face “I don't get why we have to keep our relationship a secret, not like we're committing a crime”

“I know.. it's just-” deep in thought you try to convey it the best way with words hoping he will understand “Even we are so used to us being..” ”opponents?” you roll your eyes at his words

“If you wanna put it like that, sure”.

His hands make their way to your cheeks tilting your head at an angle so your eyes lock as he gazes at every speck on your face “You know I love you?”

at his question you nod your head, snaking your hands over his.

“Then trust me” Jungwon utters in the softest tone possible, “We shouldn't care what others say, and that pretty head of yours is stressing to much”

both of you inch closer and his lips brush over yours as he eventually places tender kisses against the corner of your mouth before finally capturing your lips in a saccharine kiss hinting at a taste of the cherry airhead he ate earlier.

One of his hands trailed down to hold your waist, as if it was any more possible to be closer than already.

Your lungs felt like they might give up, so you tried to pull away to catch your breath but Jungwon had no intention to stop anytime soon.

With a poke to his chest, Jungwon laughs as he let's go, only for you to huff breathlessly,

“You sure you can't stay underwater for 20 minutes?” with a raised brow he was ready to tease you, “Can't handle a few kisses from your oh so loving boyfriend?”

“Oh my gosh, you're so annoying!”

you remark with no true malice underlying your tone while opening the door to the storage room, only to leave him behind trailing like a kicked kitty.

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ryker-writes · 2 months ago

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Hi Ryker!

May I request Male! or GN!Reader dating Idia and Malleus?

Because Cater said he finds Diasomnia and Ignyhide people hard to approach, most of the student body fears Malleus and never really saw Idia, I think it'd be hilarious if Reader managed to befriend and woo them both.

I wish you a nice day/night, remember to drink something tasty and eat something.

hi hi! Glad to finally write a request for you since you've been around my blog for a bit! I'll be doing GN!Reader to keep it inclusive to whoever reads and wants to connect with it (hope you don't mind). I kinda got carried away so it's longer than I thought it'd be

Request rules and Masterlists

Dating Idia and Malleus (Poly relationship)

First of all; WOAH

It's not uncommon for people to avoid both Idia and Malleus for very different reasons

Idia avoided people, but some found him creepy or weird due to his unique appearance and personality

Malleus on the other hand, is elegant and refined, but too powerful and intimidating for his own good (and it's not even intentional)

So it's quite a feat just being able to befriend both of them considering they're not often even seen around campus

There's always a stunned silence when you mention them as close friends

Cater says you must have next level "rizz" in order to charm your way into a conversation and friendship with both of them

And when you tell him you're actually dating both of them? He is truly stunned into silence, staring at you like you grew a third head

He and everyone around you is baffled beyond belief

It's one thing to date the world's biggest introvert who can't even attend class in person, but to date a literal prince and one of the strongest mages at the same time???

"They have to have strong magic! How else can you possibly explain them dating Idia and Malleus?"

Dating the two of them had quite an interesting start

I think the only way for you to possibly date both of them is for Idia to come first

If you dated Malleus first, Idia would probably bury how he feels thinking you would never date him too since he can't possibly compete with Malleus for your love

And he does feel a little insecure when you mention also having mutual feelings with Malleus too

But with some reassurance that you still love him very much, he's okay with it!

Actually, he likes it!

With you dating Malleus at the same time, he doesn't feel as much pressure to do everything perfectly to be a good boyfriend or forcing himself to go to big events with you because he knows Malleus is there when he's not

Idia also needs time to himself to recharge his social battery, but he feels terrible telling you he needs to recharge on his own, but now you can spend time with Malleus while he recharges and will be ready to spend time together later!

He sees and understands why you like Malleus too, after all, Malleus is "A SSR boss character with insane stats. Anyone would be attracted to him"

Malleus on the other hand...can't fully see the attraction to Idia

Don't get me wrong, he knows you love Idia too and he respects Idia, even considers him a smart and worthy fellow partner for your love

He just doesn't feel the same affection for him as you do, and that's okay with him

Malleus is open to new experiences and things to try, so when you suggested being in a relationship with both him and Idia, he was surprised, but willing to try

and to his surprise, he quite enjoys it!

He gets to know you and Idia on a deeper more personal level, and to him, that's one of the best parts about it! He doesn't have many people in his life that he can be so open and close with, so being able to be like that with both you and Idia really means a lot to him

Malleus knows there are times he's out of touch with modern culture and traditions, so he's very glad to have Idia who can help fill in the gaps and explain some things to him (after rewording his sentence at least five times to make it understandable)

With Idia around, he doesn't feel like he has to worry as much about not being able to keep up with how fast human/modern times move, and worrying about you whenever you're not in his sight

Overall, they both enjoy the relationship the three of you have

Dating both of them is quite the experience

For starters, you'll never face financial issues. Anything you want or even mention a slight interest in wanting, you'll have it by end of the day

Yeah, there's a mountain of presents on your birthday, and that's just from one of them

Security is also never an issue. No one in their right mind would provoke Malleus anyway, but even with Idia they risk all their personal and private information being exposed for all to see and the wrath of Styx security

In fact, just about any issue you have can be solved by both of them

They balance each other well in different approaches and areas of expertise

When you have a tech issue, leave it to Idia. When you have a magical issue, leave it to Malleus. When you have a personal issue or issue with others, they'll work together <3

The two of them love you very much, and they often work together or help each other in their efforts too

Even when Idia is feeling insecure about himself and where he stands, Malleus can sense it and is able to reassure him just how deeply both you and him care for Idia and value him

And when Malleus is feeling confused or like a third wheel of sorts, Idia is willing to take a step back and share attention with Malleus too

They even spend time together on their own too, and despite the initial awkwardness in the beginning of the relationship, they get along quite well

You've walked into Idia's room before to find Idia trying to teach Malleus the basics of technology and computers, even trying to teach him how to play some of the simpler games

The next day Malleus had a custom headset to help accommodate fae ears and his horns

On the other hand, Malleus has managed to drag Idia out of his room more, walking at night for both ambiance and to avoid the majority of people

When holidays come around, the two scheme together on how to surprise/what to do for you

There have been rumors circulating around the school about the two smiling evilly and chuckling in dark corners, and everyone gets on edge for a few days

Most of the time when you mention dating both Malleus and Idia, people don't believe you

They'd probably think you're delusional, but the smart ones know to hold their tongue on that

The not so smart ones (Ace) don't hold their tongue and call you delusional, and suddenly there's a thunderstorm and their search history is public information

Malleus and Idia are both pretty protective of you, and love you deeply, so you bet they're going to do just about whatever it takes to ensure you're happy

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #malleus x reader #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #idia shroud #no idea if i did this right #twisted wonderland malleus #hope its okay #i approve of this relationship

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ihansainz · 2 months ago

Text

. 🪽 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪❛ 정재현✧. 𝓕reader309 >.< fluff, est. relationship ❚ cautions─────mentions of stress.

syn | jaehyun figured out that baby sensory videos don’t only work on babies. archive

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. Honestly, you weren’t even mad for a warrantable reason, however, your boyfriend, Jaehyun, let you complain the whole way home about how the store didn’t have your favorite Oreo flavor, his hand intertwined with yours. He also knew that it wasn’t about the cookies being missing. He knew it was bigger than that—the premise—the atmosphere, the ‘how it ruined your mood’ because you were so excited. He offered to search them out at a different place but you just wanted to take a nap instead.

He missed your smile, it weighed heavy on his heart that you were stressed and letting the little things get to you. It wasn’t that serious, but he’d never undermine the things that made tears fall from the eyes he loved so much.

That night, you were doing your nightly scrolling through TikTok when a video you overlooked clung to his thoughts. He knew you so well, he knew it would work next time you got overstimulated.

So, the next time you’d gone to the store, overwhelmed by how the clothes weren’t fitting you the way you’d imagined in your head, or how the tiny room was too hot, and the lights too bright, he tried it.

The animated vegetables danced across the screen, spinning and twirling in pattern. Jaehyun glanced at your face, eyes locked and wide. The spoon from which you’d just taken a bite of ice cream from was hanging from between your lips, almost forgotten due to your focus. He thought you looked cute, a smile creeping onto his features. He’d never seen you watch something so intently, the exact way sensory videos designed for babies encapsulated you; but as he grew to know, you were always easy to please… and piss off.

He was glad this hadn’t resulted in the latter.

mae’s note─────❛ i miss jaehyun. bring my husband back.

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lunajay33 · 10 months ago

Text

The One🐾

Summary: Life always felt like something was missing and falling into a funk you go to move to forks to live with your best friend Jacob and everything seems to fall into place when he introduces you to his friends

Pairing: Paul Lahote x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Every since I was little I felt like something was missing, like no matter how happy and whole my life felt it was never enough and when I grew into my teen years it just got worse, so my mom thought it be best to send me to live with our family friends in Forks Washington where we use to live before we moved

Getting out of the cab seeing the familiar red house feeling the fresh coastal air breeze across me something clicked in me, like everything was gonna somehow be better here

I got my suitcase out of the car waving goodbye to the man that drove me all this way from the airport

“Y/N!!! YOURE HERE!” I turned seeing Jacob running out the door to me with wide open arms

Dropping my bags I jumped into his arms as he swung me around holding me tight then setting me gently on the ground again

“I can’t believe you’re back, I missed you so much”

“Jake we call almost every day” I laugh as he picks up my bags leading me back to the house

“I know but it’s not the same as actually having you here, plus I think it’ll be good for you, I have a bunch of friends now and we do stuff all the time and they’ll love you!” He was as excited as a little kid in a candy shop and it warmed my heart, finally being back in the town I was born in, the place I only ever felt right before moving

He dropped my bags in a little room, seemingly nervous at what I’ll think of it

“I love it, thank you and Billy agains for letting me stay”

“Anytime! Now I planned a little welcome home fire tonight for you, food, music and you’ll get to meet the whole pack!”

“Pack?”

“Oh umm yeah like….i mean my friends, our whole group, my friend Bella from town and some of the elders, I remember how you loved those stories they’d tell us as kids”

“You did all that for me?!”

“Of course, you’re back home where you belong, it’s only right we celebrate”

The night came and Jake was driving us to the go to spot they had fires and gatherings, we pulled up to a big open field by a little house, a big fire already roaring bright, hearing the cheerful voices from my open window as Jake shut off the engine

“Come on what’re you waiting for?” Jake asked from my now open door, my nerves taking hold of me not even noticing he got out and was now waiting for me on my side of the truck

“I’m a little nervous what if….what if they don’t like me?”

“They’re nothing to be worried about, just think of them just like me, and you’re always relaxed around me now come on let’s get some food before Paul eats it all” his words soothed me finally coursing me out of the truck

“Oh I remember Paul, he use to play with us sometimes at the beach right?”

“Yeah he’s become a bit of a hot head but he means well, he’s pretty protective of things that are important” he said handing me a plate as we got to the tables filled with food

“Hey!! Jake come over here got a spot for you!” I heard a girl by the fire say waving him over

“That’s Bella, I’m gonna go talk with her, mingle around these people will be in your life as long as you live with me” he smiled soothing my worries as he walked off

I picked up a chocolate chip muffin and placed it on the plate when someone spoke next to me

“Hey you must be the girl of the hour, I’m Emily Jake hasn’t stopped talking about you since he found out you were moving here, I’m glad to finally meet you!” She smiled giving me a warm motherly vibe

“It’s nice to meet you too! Thank you for coming I can’t believe everyone came just for me, I’m excited to reconnect and meet everyone!”

“Come on I’ll introduce you around” she brought me around, I met Seth Clearwater who wasn’t even born before I left but I remembered his sister Leah as well as Embry, I talked to Billy and the elders a bit before we moved on to the next

“Hey Paul! Remember y/n and few of the others do already!”

“How could I forget that little rascal” he laughed as he looked up at me from his plate, his smile dropping as we made eye contact, his plate crumbling to the ground

Everything felt still, this connection and pull I felt to him like he’s the only thing the matters, that no matter what happens or where I go I’ll be safe and loved, he drops to his knees as I place me hands on his shoulders, admiring his features he’s changed so much, so tall so muscular so handsome, the chatter around us stopped feeling everyone’s eyes on us but I don’t care all I care about is this moment

“No no no no NO, Paul really? Out of everyone it had to be my best friend?” Jake fumed snapping us out of this strange trance

“Like I can help it, but I’m not complaining she’s beautiful” he said making my heart thump

“Ummm what just happened?” The confusing starting to set in

“Right, I wouldn’t expect you to remember, come on we’ll tell you everything” Jake grabbed my hand and sat me next to him at the fire, Paul quick to sit on my other side, his body heat relaxing me

The “pack” went on to tell me everything, that the legends were true and most of the people including my best friend was a shifter, a wolf, it was hard to believe I mean wolves? But it wasn’t until they told me about imprints and that I was now Paul’s, but it didn’t feel wrong it felt completely right, like magically I was whole again

Everyone looked at me expectantly, anxious and waiting expression on everyone

“I know it’s a lot and we understand if you need time honey” Billy said comfortingly

“No……I’m fine really, I actually feel the best I have in a long time” I smile sheepishly as my cheeks rush with heat

“That makes sense, it’s said that if you’re separated from your soulmate even if not imprinted yet it drains you and now that you’re back, you’re where you’re suppose to be” Sam stated as he squeezed Emily’s hand

I look next to be to Paul who’s rough exterior I always remembered was gone now replaced with adoration as he looked at me like I hung the moon in the sky

“Would you like to go talk…..privately?” I asked

“I’d loved to Angel” he took my hand and led me away from the fire to the house, it was cozy just like Jake’s home, well mine now too

“Soooo I guess I’m your soulmate”

“I’ve been waiting for you, I always did have a crush on you when we were younger, always got jealous when Jake would talk about you” he smirked as he brushed back my hair

“Really? You had a crush on me?”

“Always, missed you a lot when you left, tried to forget about you but I never could get you out of my head, felt like something was missing with you gone and now I know why”

“So what are we now?” My heart thumping fast

“Anything you want Angel” he said squeezing my thigh

“Can we start with a date?” I ask placing my hand ontop of his that rested on my thigh

“I’d love that, how about I pick you up tomorrow at 5 I’ll plan something special!”

The clock showed 4:30 and I was a nervous wreck, this is my first date ever and it’s with a guy who’s my soulmate and a wolf, how did my life change so drastically

I combed down my hair for the millionth time hearing Jake laugh behind me as he was sat on the bed

“And what are you laughing at?”

“You, you’re fidgeting like crazy”

“Jake stop…I’ve never done this before what if we go out and he realizes he doesn’t wanna be with me, then I’m alone again”

“Y/n/n he’s gonna love you, hell I see how jealous he’d get everytime I’d bring you up”

There was a knock at the door and my heart jumped, I got up and flattened down my ivory dress

“Okay how do I look?”

“You look great now go on don’t keep him waiting!” I rush to the door taking a deep breath and opening it to see Paul standing with a pair of jeans and a tight black short sleeve and a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands

“You look beautiful wow” he said in a daze as his eyes roamed over every inch of me

“You don’t look to bad yourself handsome”

“Here these are for you, but they can’t compare to how pretty you are” he said handing them over

“Paul stop you’re gonna make me blush” I smiled placing the flowers in a little vase

“That’s the goal, now let’s go I’ve got everything ready” he gently took my hand leading me to the open field infront of the house

“Where’s your truck?”

“We’re going on foot” it’s just up the hill

We walked hand in hand for a while till we reached the cliff side with a beautiful view, there was string lights across the trees hanging over a comfy blanket with a picnic basket

“Wow you did all this for me?”

“Of course and I got all your favourites! Had to get a few tips from Jake” he laughed as we sat down

“This is so sweet, so far this is an amazing first date” I said taking a bite of a strawberry

“First? You’ve never been on a date before?”

“No….ive never been interested in anyone before….well before now” I looked at him a bit embarrassed but being around him felt like he’d never judge me

“I get that, no one ever compared to how I feel for you, you’re the one, my only one”

Part 2?

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no-144444 · 4 months ago

Note

Hihihiii could I request something sweet with Oscar, where the reader is the daughter of Andrea Stella and also an engineering intern for McLaren?

guilty- o.piastri

summary: oscar gets a bit worried about you when you start overworking yourself

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! stella! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“You need to stop working yourself so hard,” Oscar sighed as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. It had been your one day off, and you’d spent it working, again.

“I’m fine,” you yawned. “I just have to get the car perfect.”

“You’re the reason the car was so good last year, baby, the car is perfect,” he smoothed a hand down your back as he sat beside you. “You need to take a break. How about we go for a date night?”

You bit your lip. “My dad-”

Oscar groaned. Andrea Stella. Your father. He had been… vocal about his expectations and while that was usually a good thing, it had recently sent you into a spiral. You worked all the time, barely coming to bed at night. Oscar had to physically drag you away. “Please baby, I feel like I haven’t seen you.”

The guilt grew in your stomach. You had been neglecting Oscar recently. It’s not like you meant to, it just… happened. You’d gotten used to the silence of an empty apartment over the course of the season and to combat it, you’d work. But Oscar was back now. He was back from Australia, and he was back to you, and you weren’t even taking advantage of the fact that you had your boyfriend to yourself for an entire month before he had to go back to training. You smiled. “I’d like that.”

And off you two went.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He’d decided that a film would be the best course of action, mostly for the fact that you couldn’t check your phone in the darkness of the movie theatre. You two sat hand in hand, enjoying whatever random film Oscar had picked, sharing some popcorn as the minutes ticked by. Honestly, you loved the cinema. You adored just shutting your brain off for 2 hours and just getting to hold Oscar’s hand as you followed along a story. He loved it too. He loved watching you relax.

When you guys came out of the screen, he decided it was high time you two went out and got some food (considering you hadn’t eaten all day), so he pre ordered your favourite food from your favourite restaurant and picked it up on your way home. You two ate in the comfortable silence you’d enjoyed all night, and then started getting ready for bed.

You stood in the bathroom washing your face, as Oscar came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Love you,” he mumbled into your neck.

You smiled. “Love you too.”

“I’m glad we got to spend some time together today,” he whispered.

“Me too. I miss you so much Osc,” you sighed, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You have to take better care of yourself,” he whispered. “I’m worried about you.”

You nodded. “I know I should, I just get so… nervous. I don’t want to disappoint my dad, or you, or-”

“You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried,” he placed a hand on your cheek. “If the car isn’t where I want it to be, it just isn’t where I want it to be. That’s fine. That’s just how it is sometimes. Never in a million years would I ever be disappointed in you.”

You felt yourself tear up. You knew all of this, of course, but hearing him say it out loud, hearing him tell you it, felt amazing. You were always so nervous to show him or your dad your designs, even when you knew they’d make the car faster, you were always just scared of disappointing them. “Thank you,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. “That means a lot.”

He smiled. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

You nodded and followed him as he led you into your shared bedroom.

“I love you,” he whispered before turning out his light and wrapping you up in his arms.

“I love you too.”

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mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

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writingsofwesteros · 3 months ago

Note

HII I LOVE YOUR WRITING STYLE

I was wondering if you could write a one shot on daemon going back to a brothel he frequented in his younger years only for the girl who he used to see replaced by someone who looks a little too much like him😋🫣 so like #fatherxdaughterhedoesntknowexists😋

AN: Hi , i hope you like it xx

NSFW

“I am sorry, my prince.” Daemon fought against his growing annoyance as those bright eyes of his turned towards the patron. “I am sure you have a replacement?” The rogue Prince finally locked eyes with the near cowering woman. She nodded eagerly whilst as gracefully as she could began to step backwards, “Of course, this way, my Prince.”

Daemon followed with ease and familiarity; ignoring the stares and whispers coming his way as the silk curtain was opened. The dim room greeted him as the candles began to flicker with his movement. Those unnatural eyes of his scanned over the room; the pillows and silk gifts from customers, he was sure of it. He could spot his own amongst them.

It seemed the replacement had taken her rooms as well as everything else. Daemon had lost track of time, if only for a moment as he slowly turned to see a young, familiar looking woman in ways he could not describe standing before him. “Leave us,” the maiden only bowed her head as she stepped to the door without a look at the younger girl.

The silence stretched over the pair of them as the rogue Prince only stared ahead and watched as she began to gulp. His eyes trailed over her soft looking body; the beautiful layer of material wrapped around her whilst showing everything she had to offer. It seemed the gods were looking down on him as the Prince finally stepped closer.

“Have we met before?” Daemon finally asked his burning question. The young woman only shook her head; hardly meeting his stare. “I do not think so, my Prince…I would remember.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Would you now?” Daemon teased; his stalking forward continued. “Yes,” she whispered out breathlessly; a flush coming over her cheeks that he desired to see if it would spread elsewhere. His smirk only grew as those bright eyes of his moved up and down her barely covered body. Still, at the back of his mind Daemon could only grow more curious. It was a rare thing for a silver haired beauty.

And his body seemed to hum for her. An unseen connection building between the two of them that he could not gather a reason for. “Undress.” The rogue Prince ordered with a raised eyebrow as his bright eyes darkened in desire. It surprised herself the lack of nerves as she reached for the silk tie. “Are you a maiden?” Daemon purred.

“Yes, my Prince.” His cock twitched at both her answer and the breathless tone that escaped the pretty girl. “I am glad.” The Prince stalked closer; his hand gently cupping her chin as they stared into each other's eyes. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip as she stared up at him as Daemon struggled to place the familiarity he felt.

“Were you born here?” Daemon continued his questions as the sheer silk that had wrapped around her fell to her feet. A nod of her head was his only answer as the young girl only became more nervous with each passing moment. The small mark on her collar bone would have been looked over, if he was anyone else. But he recognised that mark. The mark of her mother, the Prince imagined as his slender, ringed finger brushed over it. It seemed Daemon had an heir after all - just one he could never claim, publicly that was anyway. His thumb moved over her soft, bottom lip as she looked up at the Prince from under her lashes. Usually, he did not desire to see the faces of the girls he fucked - but this time, it was different.

She was different, he knew that now as he leaned closer. Their lips finally met but he gave the young girl no warning as his tongue pushed into her mouth. The taste of her was like nothing he had experienced before. His hand reached for the back of her neck as the act only deepened. The back of her legs now pressed against the silk sheets of her bed. A soft gasp escaped her lips as Daemon slowly pulled away; those bright eyes of his that matched hers perfectly darkened in desire. He had reached for her hip as he tightly held onto her as she was lowered to the bed. His greedy hands moved over her sides once more as he rested his head against hers; staring into those eyes.

He guided her soft, smaller hands towards his twitching cock and watched in delight as she gasped at his size. His free hand slowly moved to her sweet, perky breast that bounced with her movement. His rough, callous thumb brushed over her pebbled nipple and Daemon watched as goosebumps easily spread over her soft skin. His fat, mushroom head brushed against her pretty, soaked pussy over and over again. The new sensations had her whining his name without thought of anything else. The smirk on his face widened at her reactions as his dark chuckle echoed around the room. “Such a good girl I have,” Daemon purred in her ear, causing shivers to run down her spine.

The rogue Prince gently shushed the sweet girl as he began to push; her sweet, puffy lips spreading for him. Daemon could not hold back the soft grunts of pleasure escaping him. Gods, she felt so good - too good. As if she was made for him, the Prince thought to himself whilst a knowing smirk tugged on his lips at that thought. His cock twitched against her gummy walls as she squealed his name. His fat, mushroom head bullied her soft spot with ease as her body submitted for him. His fingers once more returned to her sweet looking birthmark. Her sweet, soft mewls of pleasure brought his attention back as their noses brushed together.

Daemon soon passionately captured her sweet tasting lips once more; his tongue eagerly moving in as if he was a young boy. His cock twitched against her gummy walls as she whimpered against him; eyes bright and wide. The Prince could only smirk as he watched those tears of hers fall down with each thrust of his hips. “Please…ah-oh gods,” she hardly knew that she was begging for now as her legs wrapped around the Prince without care of being proper. All that mattered was the intense pleasure ripping through her shaking body. Daemon only hummed in her ear; pressing open mouthed kisses down her neck as he hotly captured her pretty, pebbled nipple in his hot mouth.

His tongue eagerly began to play causing goosebumps over her soft, lavender scented skin whilst Daemon only stared up. His larger hand reached for her other breast; palming as her whines easily slipped from her. His own stomach began to tighten with each thrust. The obscene, wet noises echoing around the room.

A ring of cream easily began to form around his thick length as his grunts were muffled by her soft breast the Prince sucked on. Her free hand reached for those bright locks of his; tugging on Daemon as she cried his name. The rogue Prince reached for the headboard; gathering leverage as his thrusts only quickened. He rested his head upon hers; locking eyes as their noses brushed together. Her sweet looking lips parted as she was pushed to the edge. Daemon only fucked her harder; watching those pretty breasts of hers bounce with every thrust. His rougher mouth captured hers once more as their tongues began to dance. She drooled against him as Daemon pushed deep once more; flooding her with ease as he sucked on her pink tongue. Their moans were muffled by each other as his weight was pressed against her body, much to her enjoyment. Her fingers slowly brushed over his locks and the rogue Prince couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

#daemon targaryen x reader #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #request

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misctf · 3 months ago

Note

I love your VR drone tf so much. Being transformed and controled by the hive mind is just so hot!

A sequel to Careful with VR (hypnosis, muscle growth). Glad you liked it! I have a few asks to still get through, but slowly working on them!

“I ain’t gay.” Joey whispers to himself, “Jus’ curious.” He continues, staring closely at the VR headset, “Fuckin’ Derek.” He grumbles, his words garnished with his typical southern accent, “Nobody’ll find out.” He reassures himself.

He was taken aback when Derek came out as gay. In hindsight, there were signs. Even Joey couldn’t help but admit that his buddy was attractive- he should’ve had no issues hooking up with some sorority bimbo at all the frat mixers. But he always brushed them off, never really trying with women.

“You better not be pullin’ my leg.” He thinks, placing the wrist and ankle cuffs on, “Gosh darn, this feels gay already.” Joey holds up what looks like a waist-trainer and chuckles, “Paid all this for Hive X and this is the best they got.”

It was only a few days prior when his buddy came out and Joey couldn’t seem to comprehend it. He berated him with questions, “are you sure?” and “why would you fuck around with men? Haven’t you ever squeezed a pair of tits?” And they kept coming. Derek was never the type to get angry, but Joey could tell his questioning was bothering him.

“Trust me,” Derek finally said, “men are 1000 times better at sucking dick than chicks. And don’t even get me started on the male G spot.”

Joey couldn’t believe that- the very thought of letting some guy wrap his mouth around his dick... it felt wrong. He didn’t even want to get started on anal. But as he sat in his room, thinking more on Derek’s words, he grew more curious. Derek wasn’t gonna suck him off, and the idea of letting some actual guy in real life do it felt wrong. But it kept nagging at him.

“Can’t believe they got it here so quick.” Joey picked up the headset, “Only two hours after I ordered it. Talk about efficiency.”

If he felt put off by the real deal, he figured a VR experience would suffice. Besides, once he proved it to himself, he’d know Derek was full of shit. And with a smirk, he entered the world of Hive X. It was strange- Joey realized that the cold air of his apartment no longer bothered him. Instead, he was greeted by the warmth of a fireplace.

“Oh god.” He quickly went to cover his junk, realizing he was naked, “Seriously?” He looked around and sighed, “Guess ain’t nobody around, besides...” He let his arms rest at his sides, “Sure they’ll appreciate the show.”

He wandered down a lengthy hallway, walking past various numbered rooms. There was no indication of anything that went on behind those doors- he was just glad he hadn’t bumped into anyone yet.

“Welcome to Hive X.” Joey jumped and turned to see a normal looking, fully dressed man standing behind him, “You appear lost. I am NPC 202. I am programmed to assist guests find their desired location.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for anything special.” Joey replied, “Just gotta prove to my gay friend that men don’t know how to treat another man right.” NPC 202 cocked his head, “Jesus, I’m sayin’ gays...”

“On assessment of user preferences and subconscious, I’ve determined your ideal experience and NPC.” NPC 202 replied, “Please follow me to room 506.”

“Subconscious?” Joey raised an eyebrow, “And what...” But the NPC was already walking off, “Ain’t nothin’ in my subconscious” He reassured himself, before following behind his guide.

“Please enjoy.” NPC 202 says, standing outside room 506.

Joey nods, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he really about to do this? Was he really going to let some guy suck him off? He could feel his dick getting hard at the thought, part of him feeling ashamed at his response. But with a heavy sigh, he entered the room. He nearly jumped when the door closed behind him, but he tried to keep his cool. The room was nothing special- it looked like a typical hotel room. But then he heard it- the lumbering footsteps.

“So you’re the guy.” Joey’s eyes widened when the NPC made its appearance, “I’m NPC 719.”

Its voice was gruff and commanding. It was taller than Joey, and far bulkier. A mat of body hair covered its chest and abdomen- its beard framing its face. Its eyes were dull, drinking in the sight of the leaner, toned man in front of it.

“You don’t think a man can make another man cum, right?” It approached Joey, and Joey could only stare, “You wanted to prove that to your friend, right?”

“Yessir.” Joey whispered as NPC 719 pressed him against the door, its musk invading Joey’s nostrils, his dick now stirring even more, growing harder.

“You’re in the right place.”

It happened quickly- the man picked Joey up and threw him onto the bed. Joey’s eyes widened as the NPC’s mouth wrapped around his cock. It was aggressive, and Joey couldn’t help but moan as his dick throbbed with pleasure. Joey’s mind was in shambles- he never... he never felt this good. There was no comparison. The sensation around his dick was so intense, his eyes rolling back in his head. And this went on and on... and on some more.

“Pl-please...” Joey gasped, his balls aching, “I need to...”

“This NPC and room are designed for edging only.” NPC 719’s voice was monotone now, “This was determined to meet your needs.”

“But I....” Joey couldn’t finish- another moan escaped his lips as NPC 719 continued to suck him off.

And in the intensity of his pleasure, Joey could feel his legs being pushed up over his head. His eyes widened as he watched NPC 719 line its massive cock up with his virgin hole. Part of him wanted to say no. To resist. But another part of him... another part of him wanted this. He wanted to feel what Derek meant by the male G spot...

“Oh fuck....” He gasped as NPC 719 entered him, its hips rhythmically moving, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him, “Oh god... fuck... please...” He never felt this way- this stimulated. Yet he couldn’t cum. His balls ached bad now, his cock throbbing desperately.

“Conclude experience or initiate NPC trial period.” NPC 719 said, while still pounding Joey’s ass, “This will allow user to experience climax and additional unlimited NPC sessions.”

Joey could barely process the words or understand what they meant. But he did know that it sounded like whatever this trial period was would let him finally release. He needed this. He needed to feel release. Fuck it- didn’t matter if Derek was right...

“Trial period.... oh god please....” He moaned.

NPC 719 stopped and Joey looked up at it with needy, desperate eyes. Before he could ask why it stopped, he felt a searing pain in his arms and legs. He grabbed at them to no avail, writhing as his body was slowly digitized. But what scared him even more was the apparent changes. As the digitization process moved along his arms, he watched as they lost their muscle- becoming slender and more feminine. His abs becoming smooth, his pecs deflating.

“No please... I didn’t!” He grabbed at his neck- his voice. Gone was his southern twang- his voice higher, desperate, and slutty, “Oh god I don’t....”

He moaned again as pain exploded from his backside as his ass expanded- inflating into an irresistible bubble butt- perfect for squeezing and fucking. NPC 719 grabbed a fistful of his new ass and grins, watching as his body hair and facial hair vanish- Joey’s face and lips shifting into that of a pouty, desperate slut.

“Initiating directives.”

Joey’s jaw goes slack and eyes dim as the mainframe connects to his mind. Memories are sifted through and repressed. His repressed homosexual desires unleashed. His pleasure receptors enhanced to mind numbing degrees. Joey can feel his name vanish from his mind, replaced with his new designation- NPC 904. His directives clear. His ass was to be used by visitors to Hive X. He would serve them obediently and in doing so would be allowed to cum. Any sense of resistance or fear being overcome by devout obedience and pride in his servitude.

“I am NPC 904.” It said, “Serving is pleasure. Being used is pleasure. I am loyal to the Hive.” It continued.

NPC 719 watched as NPC 904 was led away, a wave of pleasure from the Hive rewarding NPC 719 for a successful acquisition. Meanwhile, NPC 904 was led into its new room, the warm water from the shower caressing its sensitive body. It grew familiar with itself, squeezing its juicy ass, teasing a sensitive nipple. It couldn’t wait to meet the first guy who entered. And luckily for NPC 904, it wouldn’t be waiting too long.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #straight to gay #twink tf #gay hypnosis #male hypnosis

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husbandhoshi · 5 months ago

Text

title: royally screwed [m]

pairing: joshua x f!reader

wc: 30.8k in total; part 1: 15.4k, part 2: 15.4k summary: between remembering last night’s party and pleasing your unrelenting family, you think being a princess is hard enough. then you’re thrust into an arranged marriage to royal darling joshua hong—straight-laced, infuriatingly obedient, and everything you’re not. pretending to be the perfect couple? impossible. notes: romcom + smut (part 2), modern royalty!au in which yn is the princess of cotria/joshua the prince of acros (both fictional), enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, quarterlife crisis/coming of age, very very slow burn. lots of swearing, lots of alcohol, lots of feelings. smut tags: oral (m!receiving), mirror shenanigans, unprotected sex, softdom!shua, mating press, idk. they're in love your honor. [read part 1 here!] (please)

You decide June looks good on Acros. Unlike in Cotria, now sure to be perspiring with tourists, the downtown here is comfortable, inviting, even. At home, you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder with three other people right now.

This is one of the things you like about this country: it seems to be intentionally idyllic. It’s becoming more clear to you that Joshua’s parents weren’t actually in need of anything from you other than a status boost. You suppose they’re learning the hard way what exactly that comes with.

Jeonghan’s car, or rather, the car Jeonghan happens to be in (he couldn’t drive his way out of a paper bag, try as he might), pulls up to the curb. He’s fresh off a stint of good press, meaning months of speeches, ribbon cutting, and run-ins with parliament and journalists and business moguls all vying for a bite of a future king. You’d add yourself to that list, but you know you’re at the back of the line—you practically live there now, but you’re not sure if things could have happened any other way.

You watch him step out of the van, never windblown even though he likely just got off a flight. Always with a smile, too, one tired but recognizable, so different from the plasticky ones he wears on TV.

The first thing he does when he gets out is throw his arms open for a bear hug. “Hey, cricket,” he says, voice wrought with jet-lag. “Missed you.”

“Glad you had time for one more stop,” you murmur, squeezed into the million-thread count of his shirt.

“I always have time for you,” he replies, which is decidedly untrue, but you don’t have it in you to say that. All you do lately is get into arguments, and you’re not looking to add your brother to your hit list.

(He hugs Jihoon, too, since you all practically grew up together. Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me? Jeonghan jokes. Jihoon’s reply: It’s my gun. It’s always my gun.)

The second thing he does is push the brim of your baseball cap down.

“The paps,” he warns, as if they were the boogeyman.

“If they can’t recognize us, they need to get better at their job.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, Jeonghan, we’re all wearing matching hats.”

No, you are not kidding. Jeonghan, blue, you, red, and Jihoon, green, a la The Powerpuff Girls, which was a joke you made about six years ago and could not let go of.

“Whatever,” he laughs. “Aren’t you supposed to be showing me around? This is your domain now.”

“Don’t get excited. I just got here.”

“What do you need to go shopping for, anyway?” he asks, now walking side-by-side with you.

“I ask that question every day,” Jihoon replies, glancing at Jeonghan as if to say Women, right?, save for the fact that the both of them have exactly zero game.

“Somi’s birthday!” you exclaim, two ticks too loudly. “Stuff, I dunno. Just trying to get used to this place.”

“This isn’t exactly Rodeo Drive, you know.”

That, Jeonghan is right about. You’re sure there must be a shopping district somewhere in Acros, but definitely not here. Here, the streets are lined with dense cherry plum trees, wine-stained and fragrant. They frame driftwood-paneled shop windows housing kitschy art galleries, mom-and-pop bakeries, and patioed bistros with striped awnings.

An elderly couple passes you. They smile and wave, visible even under the shade of their parasol, either blissfully unaware of your status or too wise to care.

“I know,” you waver. “Whatever. I'll just get Yunjin to find me something for the party.”

Your eye wanders to the jaunty facade of a music store. The sign flaunts handmade, cursive letters with a curly treble clef in the lacquer of old paint. In Cotria, the same sign would be neon, Hollywood-esque, vain.

“Party?”

“Let's go there,” you interrupt, hoping to run your big mouth over with some more talking. Of course Jeonghan wouldn’t be cool with any party, nonetheless the one Somi was planning on throwing, but, either by habit or wishful thinking, the news just tumbled right out of you.

“Party?” Jeonghan repeats. He trails close after you, hoping to grab the door before you can. Such is what he had been taught, after all, which came more naturally than navigating big-brotherhood. “Jihoon?”

Jihoon shrugs, and opens the door before the both of you get there. You’ve trained him well.

“It’s a small thing,” you tell him. “Close friends only.” It’s not technically a lie—small is relative, and it’s not your fault Somi has two hundred-some close friends.

Inside, you notice the shop is bigger than it looks from the outside. In the front, their nicest pianos: the glossy Yamahas, the baby grands. a lone drum set, on sale, the hi-hat sparkling under the LED lights. And finally, guitars hung from the wall like posters, some lime green and child-sized, others sanded down so the mahogany glows.

“You already know what I’m going to say,” Jeonghan says, the lilt of his voice verging on not-so-casual.

“Then don’t say it,” you reply flatly. “You went to those parties too, by the way.”

“Used to, but—” Jeonghan sighs because he’s beat, and he knows it.

You absentmindedly flip through a book of sheet music—Alfred's Essentials of Music Theory. behind it, 40 Taylor Swift Songs for Piano.

“You’ve been good, I hope?” you cut in. “Not too tired?”

“No,” Jeonghan says. “I've been great. You?”

You can’t read his expression. Old Jeonghan would tell you that he’s ready for a nap, that he hates sleeping on airplanes, that his hands still get sweaty when he gets in front of a crowd and the camera flash hurts his eyes. New Jeonghan never complains, either because of some drastic change in his character or because he feels like he can no longer complain to you. Both hurt your feelings in equal measures.

“I called, you know.”

“I was busy, cricket.” He holds up a copy of Complete Advanced Piano Solos and wrinkles his nose. He's hoping you’d laugh with him about it, but you’ve already moved on, now fixated on the shining columns of electric guitars. “I wanted to ask about, you know, all the new stuff going on.”

“You mean my arranged marriage?” The words feel stiff in your mouth.

The arranged marriage I'm doing for you? I split my heart open for you, and that’s the thanks I get?

You avoid Jihoon’s tentative glare to look at your noodled reflection in the polish of a red Fender. You think of Joshua, of a corny rendition of Here Comes The Sun and a pick between his teeth, cradling a guitar held by a linty, ten dollar strap.

Then you think of what he said on that piano bench—that somehow he could have prevented this. Actually, this might have been all your fault. One too many shots, and you ended up setting feminism back five centuries.

“Y-yeah.” You watch Jeonghan’s silhouette appear behind yours. “Has it been okay, at least?”

Okay is a complicated word to use. It’s hard to say, even for you.

It would certainly be TMI to tell Jeonghan that you’ve been kissing a lot more often. First it was under the flimsy guise of practice—We have to be ready for our dinner tomorrow, Joshua had said, to which you readily agreed. You couldn’t be the unwilling victim of another headline like KISS OR MISS! It would be terrible for your ego, even more so than your public image.

Yesterday, though, as you were winding down for bed, Joshua had come out of the shower, damp white tee and all. A sorry, unspeakable part of you willed you to posit—Hey, maybe we need a refresher? You couldn’t even get halfway through your sentence. Hell, his glasses even came off.

You really only liked each other past 9 PM—you still couldn’t quite manage to get through a conversation like normal people. At this point, you had a 50/50 split in terms of who would cast the first terrible stone of petty disagreement. The only thing we have going for us is a dubious physical attraction, seemed like way more of a mouthful than okay, though.

“Yeah, it’s been okay.” You look around. There's a decent amount of mediocre acoustic guitars on the back wall, more than enough to scratch the itch of someone too afraid to defile something more honorable. “Hey, don’t wait up for me. I think i might buy something.”

—

[august 10, 2:57 pm; a dress fitting.

In the ten-foot mirror of the boutique dressing room, you watch Yunjin yank the ties of your corset into a punishing knot. Your mother watches behind you, perched on the chaise.

“Regal and radiant,” she reads aloud, the shiny cover of a magazine between her hands. “Finally, some good news.”

“About you and Joshua?” Yunjin asks.

“Ye–ow!” you wince. “Yeah. We went out to dinner yesterday.”

The dinner: an exhausting, stuffy affair at an Italian restaurant with two Michelin stars. You came in a nice dress, Joshua in slacks and his best button-up. Smile, wave, a kiss on the cheek. You fed him a spoonful of dessert, a stiff, too-sweet panna cotta. It was either raspberry or strawberry—you were too distracted to really notice. Instead, you’d been practicing the steps, the motions of a true love.

Should we hold hands over the table? Joshua had asked.

I don't think we have to. Your hand had curled over the napkin on your lap, as if the thought of his touch physically stung.

“This is a nice color,” your mother interrupts. She pinches the fabric of the skirt up at your waist, watching the way it bunches over your hips. “It's suitable.”

Suitable. Right. The dress for your engagement ball, suitable. Just like you, newly suited for the engagement.

You watch your image in the mirror. It’s taller, more regal, likely the product of Yunjin squeezing all the air out of you, Or worse, the penetrating gaze of your mother over the top of the tabloid.

You blink hard; you waver. ]

[august 20, 10:13 pm; a quiet return to acros after a day at the beach with somi and soonyoung.

The castle sleeps, warm under the soft glow of candlelight on marble. You pad through the halls, carefully, as to avoid waking the entire country with the thwacks of your still-wet sandals. Hopefully Joshua is sleeping. He'd certainly ask questions, either about if bikini tops really need all that padding or what the SPF of your sunscreen was.

You approach your room, where the lamplight from the cracked door oozes into the hallway. There's a determined rustling noise coming from the interior. Incriminating. Holding your breath, you cast a long glance into the thin slice of bedroom you can see from where you’re standing.

There sits Joshua, cross-legged on the bed. Between his legs, the guitar you bought him. It must have finally shipped. He’s tied the gift ribbon it came with to the guitar strap, a woven linen with an offensively bright jacquard pattern.

A hesitant A major chord, then G major, offkey. Hm, he hums aloud. Then you notice his phone propped on a pillow, a Youtube tutorial rumbling in the background. He tries the G major again. Better, he says, pumping a fist into the tired air.

God, what a dork, you think. But you don’t walk away.]

–

From the garden, the Acrosian moon renders the city blue, like ink from a spilled well.

It’s quiet out here, you notice. The forest spills into the sky, and the scent of roses lies heavy on your skin. You’re seated on the bench beneath the sculpted gazebo, a worthy centerpiece, and you revel in the coolness of the granite, the bated still of the air. You like this garden better than the one at home, although it’s entirely possible that you’ve been conditioned into hating all topiaries, no thanks to your parents.

It's only when you hear the quiet click of footsteps behind you that you realize you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been outside. You’re now able to tell them apart–these, Joshua’s, steady and purposeful, sound like they have a heartbeat.

You don’t turn around to greet him. “So you finally had enough, huh?” you ask instead, sliding to the left so he can sit beside you.

“How'd you know?” he chuckles.

“I'd like to think I know at least a little about you.”

“I appreciate it,” is his reply, surprisingly warm.

Just a few hours earlier, your parents had come to visit. They cooed and giggled and connived alongside Joshua’s parents before launching into a very long, very serious discussion about your engagement ball. You’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff, the small stuff being the color of the napkins, the members of the string quartet, the hors d'oeuvres. But then it got weird: the symbolism of the color of your nail polish, which journalists were allowed to watch you make out, when and how Jeonghan was supposed to announce his presence during all of this.

Then things got critical, which really sucked. No one was safe this time, not even Joshua. You lasted about an hour, Joshua about forty-five minutes more. You wonder what his breaking point was. Maybe it was his mother finally telling him off for having more than three buttons undone whenever he wore a dress shirt.

In the silence, you feel an inexplicable peace. Maybe this is the only time you can get along; underneath the same moon, the same stars, the divide doesn’t feel quite as wide. You let your mind clear, first, past the fog of Somi’s birthday bash, glittery and blinding in your mind’s eye, past Jeonghan’s tired shoulders in the music store, past all the magazine covers and photo ops. The heavy reality feels heavier in your stomach, but you’re no longer as scared, although resignation looks like acceptance when you whittle it close enough to the bone.

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Joshua’s voice is so low, it takes you by surprise. You look to your side and see his eyes, shaded by the long curl of his lashes, trained on the sky, his expression unreadable. There’s a piercing sincerity to it, one you haven’t seen before.

“No,” you reply, the answer coming to you faster than any regret ever could. “How could i?”

“So all the boyfriends before, just…?” he trails off. He's referencing the magazines, all the covers with full size photos of you and the model of the month holding hands by the riviera, sharing a martini, kissing outside a nightclub. There are too many to remember, but you’re surprised he’s aware of any at all.

“It was just stupid fun. I dunno. We hung out, had sex, whatever. It was never serious. I didn't tell them about anything at all; I was okay with them not really knowing me, at least, not as anything other than a party girl, the runaway princess, etcetera. We didn’t owe each other anything.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“Sometimes,” you answer. “But it was fun. I don't regret it. I just never saw room for them in all of this.”

Joshua hums, low and deep.

“And you?” you ask, incredulous. “In love?”

“In university,” he says after a brief pause. “There was a girl. I think I loved her more than I had ever loved anything else before.”

“What? Who?” you interrupt. “Do I know her?”

“No.” Then, a quiet chuckle. “No one did. She was a civilian, a normal girl. She wanted to be a biologist, I think. it was either that, or a nurse. We snuck around a lot. Probably more than you did.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“I told her I'd marry her. I thought if I wanted it enough, it would happen. I'd go to my parents, profess my love, and all our rules would fall away somehow. Just like that.”

Suddenly, it feels like there is a gaping wound in your chest. Every new word seems to draw the bloody edges of your skin further apart.

“Well, they didn’t,” Joshua continues. “I broke her heart. and I learned that all of this would never go away. Not for love, not for anything.”

There is an impossible hollowness inside you. You imagine Joshua, twenty-one and bright-eyed at Cambridge, hiding beneath the arch of the cobblestone bridge, the long one behind the quad, to carve hearts into the limestone. There's a girl wrapped in his jacket, her laughter like bells. She draws him close, runs a delicate hand through his hair, a shorter cut, more sporty than it is now. The night is still just as kind, forgiving, as it is now, and the moon still round like a young pearl.

“And that’s why you’re…you know.” You pause. The words all feel stuck to the roof of your mouth. “You like the rules.”

“Because it would mean that it didn’t end in vain. That it wasn’t really my fault.”

“You don’t want to mess up again. I get it.”

“Yeah.”

You notice your arms are touching, that they have been touching. Somehow, you don’t want to move away.

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask.

“Not sure.” Joshua sighs, having fully abandoned the filter he normally speaks to you through. “I don't think we’re so different. I don't know. It feels good to tell someone.”

“Do you still love her?”

“No. I don't think I can.”

“I'm sorry,” you swallow, feeling the familiar lump in your throat.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

It’s getting cold, the twilight breeze now coming in from the sea. A silence, now sticky, caustic, settles between the two of you. The thought of Joshua, hopelessly in love, a line you hadn’t even dared to cross, seems to wind itself deep into your neurons.

“No really,” you insist. “I'm sorry. I gave you a hard time—no, I've been giving you a hard time. I didn't know.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What?”

“Be nice to me. No one’s watching.”

“I know,” you say, a foolish conviction rising in your stomach. You almost feel silly, juvenile, for never really baring your heart like how he had. You’re not sure which was worse.

You turn to look at him, really look at him. He's framed by the haze of the violets, the gentle curtain of the willows.

“Says the real you?” Joshua asks.

“Yup,” you laugh. “Usually is. You probably get the worst of it, to be honest.”

“She’s not so bad.” He returns your gaze; it’s honest, unsearching. “According to the real me, by the way.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

There are no words left. In fact, nothing quite says more than the way you now sit together, hands close enough to touch, without quarrel, complaint, or a yearning to prove yourself to some invisible standard. Instead, you enjoy the quiet calm, the way it drapes itself across the garden, the city, the quick of your heart. Now that you think about it, it’s the first time you’ve been able to do this without feeling like you were putting on a show.

This time, you think it’s real when you lean against his shoulder, and he leans back, chasing your warmth.

And it certainly seems to stay real when your hands find each other. You realize he does it the same way every time—the gentle skim of his fingertips down your hand before your palms meet, gently, forthright.

And it’s here, in the uncertain glow of the summer moon, where you think you’re the closest to ever knowing just what Joshua had been talking about earlier.

His hand curls around your cheek, holding you, wanting to see you clearer still, and he kisses you. It's not the practiced motion of an ill-conceived love, nor a hungry, blind stumble in your unlit bedroom. No, this time, it's as if you are being drawn back, wonderfully, slowly. Joshua kisses you as if it's the first time, as if to undo all the other times.

And somehow, almost by magic, the fountain song and the phantom photographers, the parents and the press, the world and everything in it, finally draw quiet.

–

“So,” Jihoon says, reloading his pistol. “You ok? Don’t you hate the range?”

You push your earmuffs aside to hear him better. “What?”

“I said, don’t you hate the range?”

“Well,” you balk. Jihoon puts the gun down and leans against the booth, looking at you from behind the glare of his safety glasses. Behind him is the paper target of a man with five bullet holes through his head. “I think I've gotten used to it.”

This is all true—you did hate the range, but it’s where you can always count on finding Jihoon on a Sunday afternoon. Better people went to church, but Jihoon preferred to terrorize the poor center circle of a bullseye.

“Hm.” He picks up the pistol again, stares down its iron sights. “Somi need anything for her birthday?”

“She needs a new man,” you reply, and Jihoon laughs.

Bang. Bang.

“But, no, I'm getting her that vintage Cartier watch she’s been wanting forever. They were auctioning it off in Paris.”

“Right, since it’s time for her to get a new boyfriend,” Jihoon deadpans, although he can’t quite get it out before he chuckles. “What about Soonyoung?”

“They cannot get together. You’re just being messy.”

“Sure, I'm the messy one. Didn’t they sleep together?”

“That was, like, two years ago. Drunk.”

Bang. Then a click–the clip’s empty. “By the way—you decided if you’re going to Cotria this weekend? Jeonghan will be back again, you know.”

You pause, watching Jihoon reload the magazine, shiny bullet by bullet. You definitely know Jeonghan’s coming home—minus all the time you spend on Find My Friends, you were always acutely aware of when he was in town. The real question is if you wanted to see him again. Usually, you’d count down the days, make plans at all your favorite restaurants, buy a bottle of cheap wine to split over a shitty Godzilla movie. That was when you still talked.

The last time you saw him was when he visited you in Acros. After the music store, you milled around a couple shops, walked through an art gallery. (Remember when you got lost at the Prado? he had asked. You were staring at that painting with all the butts.

Kinda, you had replied noncommittally. All Jeonghan did lately was start his sentences with remember, like he wanted you to forget who he was now.)

“I dunno,” is what you land on. “I'm busy.”

“Well, Jeonghan asked me.” Jihoon takes down his old target and sets up a fresh one, another formless, black silhouette.

“Asked you what?”

“If I could ask you to come.”

“Does Josh know?”

“He actually already helped with arrangements for you to go back,” Jihoon replies, palming the gun again. “He said only if you wanted to, though.”

The tightness in your chest seems to coil over itself once more. Joshua had asked you about Jeonghan over breakfast one morning, before handing you a coffee and a croissant to soften the blow. You had been talking a lot more lately, which, somehow, you didn’t mind. If he wasn’t making fun of you, he was actually a decent listener.

You watch Jihoon steady his arms.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

–

Like all of your great ideas, it began in the back of a car.

Surprising, maybe. Accidental? Never.

You’re getting ahead of yourself, though. It really started earlier tonight, at the charity event you attended with Joshua.

Lesser beings would blame the wine, a cheap chardonnay only fit for sorority girls on a Friday night. Naturally, you and Joshua were responsible for downing about half the bottle—a fun amount, you’d like to say, although you admit you were surprised at your date’s ability to hold his alcohol.

You, however, can peg the real culprit: a reasonably slutty dress, removed from the annals of Somi’s closet, back when she was less of a Paris Hilton and more of a Princess Diana.

The evidence: damning. As you were getting ready—Can you zip me up? you had asked Joshua, fiddling with the rollers in your hair, already a generous ten minutes late. Then the slow, lingering skim of his touch, molasses up the hollow of your spine. At dinner, a warm hand on your knee. You didn’t hang around much longer after that, but walking to the car was a wondrous excuse for the flat of his palm to find the small of your back, fondly, comfortably, as if you had known each other for years.

Since you had spoken in the garden, certainly you had acted like more of a couple. It came more naturally, likely due to the fact that you had no idea if you were actually a couple or not. You suppose it doesn’t matter at the end of the day. Well—sort of.

Now, you’re just being obtuse. What you’re really trying to do is explain how your hand found its way down Joshua’s pants in the back of your limousine. And still, found is too generous of a word. But you digress.

The short version: you kissed Joshua. Jihoon parked the car out back, you had gotten tired of Joshua glancing at you through the side of his eyes, and you kissed him. Regrettably, this hasn’t gotten boring yet. You enjoy the way he searches for your touch, the part of his soft lips.

Sometime between the third and the tenth time your tongue found its way into Joshua’s mouth, Jihoon removed himself from the situation—he was always good at that part. Two wandering hands later, your palm skimmed over the front of Joshua’s slacks. No big deal, except he was half-hard and he moaned in your mouth like he was doing the ad-libs in a Cupcakke song.

“Whoops,” you had babbled. This whole night, you’d been searching for the brakes on the clown car winding through the horny fog of your horrible, vexed mind.

“Fuck, sorry,” Joshua replied just as quickly, the words seeming to slip back down his throat.

Then you had stared at each other and blinked, hard, as if that would erase the fact that, one, the prince of Acros had just cursed approximately half an centimeter from your face, and two, you’d now crossed a bridge that could not be uncrossed.

You could no longer lie to yourself about the fact that you are hopelessly attracted to Joshua. You don’t even know if you want to lie anymore. You still thought of the time you ran into him, birthday suit and all, all those weeks ago in the bathroom. And, yes, you had wondered how big he was, although you blame Somi for planting that evil idea in you.

Hence, with God as your witness (since Jihoon was no longer there), you had said, “I can help, you know. If you want.”

You didn’t expect Joshua to nod so quickly. Then again, you now know yourself to be a poor judge of most things, especially ones relating to whatever this is.

“Do you want to?” he had asked, eyes fogged over.

“Yes. really.” Then you stopped. “Is this your first—”

“No. Does it really seem like it?”

Okay. You’ll have to unpack that later.

So, finally, here you are. Somewhere along the line, your shame had fallen to the wayside, and a new desire now rocks you.

“Could’ve just asked earlier,” you tease, thumbing the buckle of Joshua’s belt.

“Should’ve known you’re not one for subtlety,” he laughs softly, his eyes fixed on how you undo the clasp. It’s a silly comment, but all the blood still rushes to your cheeks at the idea of him wanting you not just now, but all night. “Next time.”

“Really now.” The button at his waistband proves difficult with your new nails, so you instead sit your hand on the tent in his pants, palm him over the fabric. “You’d let me do this in the washroom of a charity ball?”

Delightfully, you watch him squirm. He doesn’t fight you, instead, uses his hands to bring you closer so you can feel his voice on your skin. “You’d be surprised,” he replies.

“His highness,” you say before returning to the wretched button, “Fooling around at a formal event? Scandalous.”

“Says the walking scandal,” Joshua laughs again, nipping at your earlobe. Then a sigh, breathy and tortured, as you finally peel back his slacks.

“Isn’t this about the time where you be quiet and let me do my thing?”

“Is that an order?”

“Yeah, since you seem to like them so much.”

He opens his mouth to complain, but you’ve beaten him to the punch. Skin meets skin; you watch his eyes flutter shut, the slow fall of his shoulders as he exhales.

Fuck, you think to yourself. If that’s all it takes for him to get hard— you force the thought back to where it came from. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Already, you’re reveling in the lewd image before you: the nation’s darling prince, legs spread and slack-jawed in the back of a limo, dizzy at the thought of a pretty girl playing with his cock.

Your hand wraps around his length, pulls it out of his briefs. Feeling the weight, heavy and warm on your palm, makes your skin prickle. He is big, but even if he wasn’t, the way he gasps into your ear when you start pumping him is enough to satisfy.

You start slow, just to be a little mean. He's longer than you expected, you realize. A turn of the wrist at the base, a little more pressure, and you hear him groan, loudly, shamelessly, as he tips his head back.

“Feels good?” you ask, voice lower than a whisper. You know it does—you’re not inexperienced by any stretch of the imagination, but something about turning the prince into putty makes the months of horrible foreplay worth it.

“Yeah,” he says, part sigh. “Really good.”

“Good.” Then you hold out your palm in front of his mouth. You tell yourself it’s a litmus test for his freak-o-meter, but there’s a part of you that wants to make this the best handjob of his short, unexciting life.

First, he looks at you, wide eyes unblinking. There's already a flush, pretty and pink, across his cheeks, the column of his neck. Then, it clicks. He spits into your hand, and you watch it trail down the plush curve of his lips, his chin, the ridge of his adam’s apple. The color spreads to his ears; his mouth twists shyly. Oh, he looks perfect, maybe even more than perfect like this.

As if drawn by a magnet, you kiss him, and your hand finds his cock again. The friction alone draws out a low whine from Joshua’s chest, enough for you to feel the sound on your own tongue. Emboldened, you pump faster, harder, loving the way his hips kick up to meet your touch.

Still, he gives no indication that he’s close. Something tells you he has more stamina than you think, which surprises you. Thirty minutes ago, you thought he was a virgin.

“Josh?” you murmur, your lips brushing over his. “Wanna taste you.”

He meets your gaze, expression unreadable. You think maybe you’re moving too fast, that you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, until you feel the shadow of his hand move, first on your waist, then up the back of your neck. He gathers your hair in one hand, easily, as if he’s done this many a time before, and you get the message.

You wet your lips, swollen at this point, and bow your head. You’re running on something crazier than adrenaline at this point—even seeing the bead of precum at his tip is making your jaw feel heavy.

The first taste, always thrilling, sends sparks to your cunt. You seal your lips around his cockhead, feeling its weight on your greedy tongue, and he pulls your hair just enough to make you moan.

“Were you thinking about doing this all night?” Joshua asks, voice deceptively innocent.

You can’t answer. You don’t want to. He tastes good, he even fucking smells good, and you want him bad. Instead, you take him to the base, feel him bump against your palate as you try not to gag. You can’t fit him all the way, so your hands make up the slack. He's even bigger fully hard, and already, you feel the ache in your cheeks, your temples.

“Fuck, you must have been.” A groan, low and slutty. “Doing so good for me.”

You can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if this is his version of dirty talk, but it’s working. His hand is gentle, restrained behind you, letting you lead. The worse part of you wonders what it would take for him to break, but that’s a project for another time.

Honestly, he doesn’t need to do much—again and again, you chase the feeling of his cock deep in your throat, enough to bruise. You don’t even care if you gag around him; when you do, he pulls your hair back, just enough to make your scalp prickle wonderfully, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you like it.

You feel heady with arousal. You start to wonder how he is in bed, if he’d hold your hair like that, run his mouth like he is now. He's vocal, more than anyone else you’ve been with, and every little noise goes straight to your core, makes your thighs squeeze together pathetically. By now, you’re sure you’ve ruined this set of panties.

“ ‘m close,” he says between breaths. “You don’t have to—”

Stupid, stupid boy, you think. You don’t think you’ve wanted to do anything more. So instead of answering, you look up at him, eyes big and watery, and you suck hard. with your tongue nestled underneath his cockhead, right by the vein, it’s almost too easy.

He groans, loud, satisfied, and you feel his release fill your mouth. Even after swallowing, it’s enough to run down your chin, get your makeup all smudged, and you like it. If you weren’t in trouble already, you are now.

“Ah, I made you a mess,” Joshua says, gravelly and intimate. With one hand, he takes the handkerchief out of his suit jacket and cradles your jaw with the other. “Hold still.”

“You,” you manage after clearing your throat. “You don’t have to sacrifice your pocket square.”

“Yes, I do,” he chuckles. He wipes the corners of your mouth, your aching chin, and it almost makes you cry. “You literally gave me head in the back of a car. The pocket square can go.”

He draws you up to his chest so you can rest your head on him. There’s a warm, melty feeling between your ribs, minus what you had just swallowed. Inexplicably, even as the horny fog clears from your brain, you still want to be close, closer than close and then closer still.

“Head? I don’t like hearing you use normal people slang.” You pout, and you feel his laugh radiate from beneath his skin. “Good head, at least?”

“Oh, please. Better than good,” he answers. “You’re perfect. perfect.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you start. Then he shuts you up with his mouth over yours, and you forget to think about liking him, loving him, or marrying him—this, you think you can do.

—

“We’re in Barcelona!”

You’re greeted by a pocket sized Somi and Soonyoung as they grin at you from your phone screen. They look to be on the balcony of a hotel suite, both wearing their matching silk robes.

“Wow,” you reply. “And where was my invite?”

“We did invite you, bitch,” Somi says, pulling down her sunglasses to look at you. “You said you were busy.”

“Well, I mean…” you uncap a bottle of nail polish. “That's not untrue.”

“The ocean needs you,” Soonyoung whines, clutching his chest. “We need you.”

“I'm sorry! Josh and I have been doing engagement stuff.”

“Josh? Since when were you on a nickname basis?”

“Whatever,” you interrupt. “What are you guys gonna do today?”

“Beach,” Soonyoung responds brightly, with Somi’s Don’t let her change the subject! loud in the background.

To be honest, you don’t even know the answer to her question. It just sort of happened, which seems to be the new normal for you. You’re also trying to pull apart last night–the freak-o-meter test came back inconclusive, and, for some reason, Joshua fell asleep with his arm over your middle. (Actually, you can think of a few reasons why he did that, but you’re not really sure how to feel about any of them.)

“Ugh, I miss you guys.” You wipe at your pinkie toe, having smudged the polish beyond repair. “Drink a little extra sangria for me. And by little, I mean a lot.”

“You’re still coming to Somi’s birthday, right?” Soonyoung asks.

“Yes, of course she is,” Somi replies. “Unless you can’t. Which I totally understand.”

“I still can,” you lie. “It just has to be more low-key than usual.”

“No paparazzi,” Somi says. “And I'll tell everyone to keep you on the down low. Super duper down low.”

“No way.” Damn, you curse to yourself—you keep screwing up painting your big toe. “Seriously?”

“Anything for my queen,” she giggles. “Pitbull is also confirmed, by the way. Secret Pitbull now.”

“Good, because that’s the only reason I’m coming.”

“Boo, you whore.” Somi wrinkles her nose at you playfully. (Is she being serious? Soonyoung asks in the background.) “Also, I'm still waiting for my update on the whole prince thing. I've been very patient.”

“No updates. Nothing to report,” you insist. Frustratingly, your cheeks are hot, like you’re in secondary school all over again.

“You fucked him, huh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Halfway. Maybe.”

The combined sound of Somi and Soonyoung’s gasps rips apart your phone speakers, and you draw in a big breath. I did it for the plot doesn’t quite seem like the right justification, not like it used to be. The plot never used to involve the M word, love, or any sort of feelings at all. Now things are more confusing than late-stage Grey’s Anatomy, but good luck explaining that over the phone.

“So you do like him,” Soonyoung says, saucer eyes sparkly on-screen.

“I don't know,” you answer. It’s true, you don’t. To you, like was flirting over text and french kissing. Paradoxically, you had told Joshua all of that, and he still decided to do whatever he did to you on the ledge of the fountain all those days ago. It felt like he ate the heart right out of your chest. Then you had to go and suck his dick, which never made anything less complicated.

“Oh please. Look at you,” Somi laughs. “Yeah, you do.”

Fuck. You’ve smudged all the polish off your big toe again.

–

Not much surprises you these days, but you can’t say you were expecting to see your riding boots to be the first thing you see when you arrive home in Cotria.

The second thing you see is Jeonghan, smiling at you in his big, stupid riding helmet, camo-printed because he bought it when he was 15 and his head never grew much bigger since.

“For old times sake?” He then holds your own helmet up by the straps, and whatever twinge of annoyance you had felt earlier makes way for something softer, more forgiving. “Everything's set up outside.”

It doesn’t take you much time to take him up on the offer. If anything, a long ride usually solves all your problems, and you definitely have problems that need solving.

You saddle up in the stables, wordlessly, moved by habit. It seems to be the same for Jeonghan, too. Even Peanut acts like it hasn’t been years since he’s seen him, and he noses at the box of sugar cubes like he always does. Then again, horses don’t hold grudges, at least, not like you do. Even Joshua seemed more optimistic about this encounter than you did.

“So you're back back,” you say, hooking your feet in the stirrups. “Or do you have more jet-setting to do?”

“Back back,” Jeonghan replies. “Missed home too much.”

He cocks his head towards the old riding trail, the one that loops the long way through the woods. The gesture is but a formality—it’s the only path you ever take. Still, you follow behind his horse, watching the beige swoosh of Peanut’s tail the same way you did when you were a little girl and things were far simpler than they are now.

Under the cornflower sky of a near-autumn, the forest seems endless. A flock of geese split the sky in two; a warm breeze haunts the canopy, scattering the afternoon light. The dirt under you is soft, peaty from the morning rain. The hoofbeats are silent today.

Jeonghan’s horse slows so that you ride side-by-side.

“Hey, cricket?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” Jeonghan clears his throat and pauses, quite unlike him. “I wanted to come out here to talk.”

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I…” Another pause. “I know things haven’t felt normal between us. For me, at least.”

You almost drop the reins. A strange, floating feeling is set off in your body, like a flare.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I was kinda hoping you would say that.”

“I'm sorry.” A hard swallow. “I haven't really been the best brother, have I?”

“Well, not…not really.” Quickly, frenetically, words bob up in the back of your mouth like you’re playing whack-a-mole. You had been waiting for this conversation to happen for so long, you realized you hadn’t planned much further than that. “It felt like you’d changed. A lot.”

The wind feels like ribbons around you. You sway back and forth on Astrid, as if on a boat.

“Was it the birthday party thing?” you ask. “I didn’t mean for it to…you know.”

“Actually, that was my fault.” Jeonghan smiles bitterly. “I shouldn't have let Mom and Dad run me over like that. You should’ve been there. It was never really the same without you.”

“Well, I should've come,” you admit. “So we both fucked up.”

“Maybe,” he chuckles. “But the rest—definitely my fault. I made myself busy because I felt like I had to.”

You’re growing to really hate that word. Jeonghan had to grow up, Joshua had to break up with his first love, you had to learn to pick up all the pieces of both of these things and try to fit them back into your life.

“You didn’t even look back.”

“I was scared, cricket. That if I kept looking back, I wouldn't be able to go forward. And I didn’t want to leave you behind, but I did. I think there was a happy middle somewhere, I just couldn’t find it.”

“Jeonghan, you’re not really making sense right now,” you say, flattened, and he laughs.

“I don't even know what I'm saying. I think I'm trying to say that I just want you to be happy. And that I'm sorry.”

You bite your lip, as if to distract yourself from the strange pressure in your throat. You think you want to cry, but you’re not sure.

“But are you happy?” you ask. “With the coronation and everything? Did you even want this?”

“I am, believe it or not. I know you don’t, but I'm not lying. Somewhere along the line, I started liking all of the talking, the traveling, the interviews. I like that I can help people. Some of it sucks, but not all of it.” He laughs, finally one that sounds like something you can remember. “Not everything you have to do is bad.”

“Jeonghan, I'm getting married because of you. Because of this,” you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “I don't know how to do this. Any of this, not like you, not like Mom, or anyone.”

This, in fact, does make Jeonghan stop. He stills and falls silent. At once, it seems the forest goes quiet too.

“Don’t get married, then.” You don’t respond, so he says it again. “You don’t have to go through with it. Not for my sake, at least.”

“What?”

“I've been thinking about it ever since it happened. I can talk to everyone. You’d rather not be with the guy, right?”

Your tongue freezes in your mouth. You thought you had an answer, but it refuses to come out.

“I have a duty to protect you, too. I’ll be fine with or without the press.”

“Jeonghan,” you say quietly. Many moons ago, you would have laughed at the word duty, but instead, your stomach turns over and over and over. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” is his simple answer. “I want to because I care about you. We can figure out the rest.”

Something in your bones feels heavy. You’d also been waiting to hear those words, but it didn’t feel as freeing as you thought it would. You think about Joshua, his books and his perfectly placed bookmarks, his dumb dad jokes, the way he reaches for your hand, fingertips before palm.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. The engagement ball is probably happening either way, but it’s no big deal. Bigger engagements have been called off in far worse circumstances.”

You’re having trouble believing him, but you have no other choice. Your life would certainly get a lot easier if everything were to just end. No more press releases, scripts, or awkward pictures. And no more worrying about if you could go out on the weekends or just how much of yourself to give up to make things work.

“There's no rush.” He turns to look at you with the same wild shine in his eyes that you’d grown to miss so much. “Truce?”

That, somehow, you’re much happier to hear. You thought you’d be angrier than this, feel the usual metal-red of your gut, but all that’s left is a sobering feeling of relief, of home. At last, things feel close to normal.

“Truce.”

So you ride and ride, but a decision doesn’t come to you as easily as you thought. The sunset breaks; the word duty clings to you, unshakable, unrelenting.

—

Somehow, you have gone full circle: at the end of a long day, you find yourself back at the piano, much like you did when you were seven, and the only thing you could do right was play Hot Cross Buns.

Joshua had bought an unreasonable amount of music books, half guitar for him, half piano for you. You’d forgotten just how much you had liked playing until that night, many nights ago, when you and he had first muddled through that duet.

Yesterday, you and your parents had tea at the waterfront before you had left the country. You were still undecided on the engagement; frustratingly, the needle hadn’t moved much in either direction since Jeonghan had raised his proposal to you.

Congratulations, your mother had told you, right over her cup of oolong.

For what?

You’ve risen to the occasion. You’ve grown up.

To you, this was not a compliment. You didn’t know what it was. You had twisted the ring on your finger, back and forth, a habit you picked up after all the time you spent wearing it. You wondered if somewhere, you had become exactly like Jeonghan, molded and spun into someone unrecognizable. Maybe that was why Joshua finally seemed to like you.

Have you practiced for your first dance? your father asked, and you no longer had time to worry about the state of your personality—you had other fires to put out.

Really, that’s why you’re at the piano today. You thought you could play the damn tune and somehow remember all the ballroom dancing lessons you had taken when you were younger. Unsurprisingly, it hasn’t worked yet.

There’s a knock at the doorframe. “Come in,” you say, already knowing that it’s Joshua. No one else does that; Jihoon barges in and just starts talking, and you can hear Joshua’s parents from a mile away because of all the jewelry they have on.

“Just wanted to see what you were up to,” Joshua says. He leans against the frame of the piano, already dressed down for the night.

“Nothing,” you reply. “Just magically hoping that I remember how to ballroom dance.”

“Well, first things first, you can’t dance sitting down.” He chuckles, and you pull your lips tight.

“I'm serious, Josh,” you whine.

“You really don’t remember?” He gives you one of those looks, one that you’re quite used to now, with the judgmental wrinkle of the brow. “Didn’t you take lessons?”

“Yeah, like…fifty million years ago.”

“I couldn’t tell,” he says, grinning something foolish. “You don’t look a day over fifty.” Then he offers you his hand, which you take, and he easily pulls you from the bench.

“Flattered,” you say, unable to push down the corners of your smile. “You gonna teach this senior citizen a few moves?”

“Perhaps, as my good deed for the day.” He holds your hand, still firmly in his, and slides it up his arm to rest on his bicep. “Left hand here,” he tells you.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Not yet,” Joshua laughs. “The ballroom hold ring a bell?” His other hand finds your free one, and you interlace fingers simply, easily. Then, the warmth of a hand between your shoulder blades, one that draws you to his chest.

“I think the only dancing I know how to do is half drunk in the dark. Can’t exactly throw it back on you in front of God and country.”

Joshua grins, a big one, and you, traitorously, feel your cheeks get prickly.

“I wouldn't want God looking at you like that,” he teases.

“And country’s already seen it all.”

“They should consider themselves very lucky, then.” His eyes meet yours, lit by the scattered light of the chandelier. “It's my turn to ask you to let me lead.”

“Fine,” you pout, noticing that familiar warmth in your stomach.

Joshua begins to count your steps off (one, two, three—ow, that’s my foot! —sorry!). He’s patient with you, more patient than you think you deserve. His hand seems to slot perfectly into the curve of your back; his gaze settles onto you in a way that makes your chest feel heavy, molten.

“For someone who goes out so much, you have a terrible sense of rhythm,” Joshua says, teasing.

“Hey,” you object. “Maybe I just have a bad teacher.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

“Well, I'm not about to blame Britney Spears.”

Joshua laughs, and the sound is so close to you, you can feel it on your skin.

“I still think it’s the student’s fault.”

“Me?!” Perfectly timed, your sock-clad feet collide (yours, striped and fuzzy, his, plain white). “Impossible.”

“Too distracting,” he murmurs, and you notice how unfairly pretty his eyes are. “You bump into me, criticize me, you look at me like that…”

You feel dizzy. You don’t know what Joshua’s doing to you, but it’s mean. Your face is warm, and normally you’d blame it all on the alcohol but you haven’t had any. Worst of all, the soft part of you, the lizard-brained, impulsive part, can’t stop thinking about his lips and how they would feel on yours.

It’s a thought you don’t let linger, much like all of the other half-thoughts you have, and you kiss him, as if it was a reprieve from the terrible, horrible way he’s making you feel. (It isn’t.)

“You talk too much,” you tell Joshua, right against his lips. “Not enough teaching.”

“I'm putting you in remediation.”

“Devastating.”

“And giving you homework.”

“Whatever shall I do?”

Joshua answers that question for you. He kisses you, once, twice, still not enough, and, somehow, things feel more simple than they ever had before.

—

Jihoon’s eyes are dark, dagger-sharp in the rearview mirror.

“We’re coming up,” he says. “A few minutes out.”

“I know,” you answer. Yunjin was successful, almost too successful, in her task of finding you an appropriately revealing dress for a newly engaged twenty-something at the party of the year. The filmy silk stretches around your thighs; the cowl neck flirts with the neckline of the bikini top you have on underneath.

You look good, probably better than how you’ve looked in months. And yet, for some reason, you don’t feel good, at least, not how you’d thought you’d feel on the way to the only event you’d been looking forward to this year.

Somi’s gift rattles in your lap. It’s covered in this loud, hot pink wrapping paper unbecoming of something you had spent years tracking down on the antiques circuit. Normally, you’d have a laugh with Jihoon about it, maybe take some selfies in the car, but instead, you find yourself spinning your ring around your finger like you always seem to do these days.

You think of Jeonghan, of Joshua. Of course, what you do or don’t do on your best friend’s birthday is none of their business (although, very inconveniently, Jeonghan did have some event this weekend, and Joshua was traveling). But still, you think of the boldface headlines, the whispering gossip forums, the washed-out image of you in your little dress on the cover of a cheap magazine. This wasn’t exactly a tame party, and things weren’t just about you anymore, not like they used to be.

Marking your arrival isn’t the GPS nor Jihoon, rather, it’s the firefly buzz of the cameras outside your limo as it’s forced to come to a stop. You squint, trying to see past the tint of your windows, and see Somi, radiant in her birthday tiara, as she pushes through the crowd. Behind her is the villa she rented, illuminated by pink and gold strobe lights.

You crack open the car door and are met with a stifling deluge of camera flashes. Music pulses through the air, enough to feel beneath your heels.

“Who's my favorite princess?” Somi exclaims, throwing her arms open. “You made it! you look hot.”

“Not as hot as the birthday girl,” you reply, and you let her squeeze the air out of you in a wonderful, bone-crushing hug. “What's with all the cameras?”

“Professional photographers. Just wanted something to remember the night by, because we are blacking out.” She giggles, already tipsy. “Come, come, we’re doing shots inside.”

“Without me?”

“We’ll catch you up.”

Somi drags you by the hand through the sea of people, and you watch the cameras follow as they always do. She leads you up the stairs, underneath the towering balloon display, and into the foyer, already darkened, lit only by a disco ball chandelier and the neon backlights.

You spot Soonyoung by a champagne tower that seems twice his size, as promised. He's in a leather jacket, no shirt under, and you watch his eyes light up as they meet yours.

“A shot for her highness,” he shouts over the music.

“I thought this was champagne.”

“Tequila's close enough.” He laughs, eyes upturned, bright like gemstones.

The first shot goes down easy. It always does. So does the second, unsurprisingly. Around the third is when Somi tells you that the strippers are coming in an hour. (—Strippers?! —Not everyone has a fiancé, you know.)

And, just like that, you’re back to the beginning. It’s hard to think over the ridiculously good Kesha mix the DJ is playing, but, terribly, you think you’re starting to understand what Jeonghan was talking about. You’re still not sure how you feel about duty, responsibility, sacrifice, those heavy words that feel impossibly heavier in your mouth, but all you know is that, as much fun as you’re having now, it comes at a fair price.

Somi told you nothing, no compromising pictures, no drama, would reach the press, but, as hard as she may try, you feel like enough people have laid eyes on you already that someone was bound to hear something. If not now, then definitely in a few hours when everyone’s on at least two and a half substances, and all bets are off.

Briefly, you recall your appearance at the derby, the memory like a shard of glass. You had stood guileless next to Joshua, tripping over your words because you hadn’t cared enough to read the damn briefing, and he had covered it up with a dad joke or two. Coming up with those abominations must have been hard enough for someone whose first book was the Oxford Dictionary, but you don’t even think God and all his angels could cover up this. More than that, the thought of everyone having to try anyway makes your gut twist.

Someone tells you to smile for a selfie. You recognize her, but you don’t remember her name (Amelia or Alicia, one of Somi’s friend of a friends. On second glance, there are definitely more than 200 people here). Let's dance! another voice shouts in your ear.

Your head hurts. You hate the idea that Jeonghan might be a little right, but you hate even more that you’re starting to agree with him. Maybe you need another shot.

“Your gift,” you say, fighting over the chorus of Your Love Is My Drug. “Somi!”

“Oh my god, you did not!” she squeals. She clasps her hands over yours, wrapped around the box, and draws them to her. “Let me take it to the table. I’ll meet you by the pool—oh, oh, there’s a hot dog stand out there too!”

“Actually,” you start. You’re not that drunk, not yet, but now you think you can feel the ground start to sway under you. It wouldn’t be too far a stretch to say that in half an hour, after a little time at the bar, you’d probably be spending the night, no question. “I think I have to run.”

“Aw, really?” Somi tilts her head and squints, as if trying to read your mind.

“I am so sorry,” you tell her, as sincerely as one can over a pop song from the 2000s. “Swear I'll make it up to you.”

“Life stuff, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It's ok,” she says. “Really really. Go home, figure your shit out, and we can have our own party.”

She holds your joined hands to her heart. Whatever look you gave her, she believed. That, or she knows you better than you think.

So you leave. The car ride home is silent. Jihoon doesn’t ask questions, and you can still hear the sound of the music ringing in your ears, on and on and on.

—

You think the worst thing you’ve ever woken up to was the Crazy Frog ringtone of one of the guys you had slept with during university.

The second worst has got to be five voice memos and three consecutive missed Facetime calls from Somi, which is the first thing you see upon opening your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur, still coming to. Your bed is empty, but you see Joshua's suitcase in the corner of the room. He must have come home early this morning, while you were still sleeping.

You crack open your text messages.

–OH MY GOD.

–I AM SO SO SORRY.

–someone must have gotten paid off for last night’s pictures…i had no idea i swear

Then a voice memo. Then another voice memo. then a PopCrave Twitter screenshot: YOU CAN TAKE THE PRINCESS OUT OF THE PARTY–OR CAN YOU? followed by the worst, most incriminating photo of you and Soonyoung, arms linked, throwing back a shot.

“No, no, no, no.” You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the stone-cold drop of your heart to your feet. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Shit. You have to find Joshua and make it right.

Somehow, you thought it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t care what did or didn’t get out as long as you were able to have a good time—you desperately search for that same feeling, knowing that it’s long, long gone. You don’t even think you truly ever believed that.

You race down the palace hallways, ones that feel far more familiar than the rigid bastions they were when you first got here, but it’s Joshua who finds you before you find him. Or rather, it’s his voice you hear, trickling out from behind the library door.

Suddenly, you’re five again, and you’re spying on Jeonghan talking to your parents. You peek through the crack of the doorframe. As Somi would say, nightmare blunt rotation: there stands Joshua, surrounded by both sets of parents, and no one looks happy.

“We knew it,” another voice says—your mother. “We’re sorry, but we said this would happen.”

“It’s no matter. There’s nothing left to do but call the engagement off.”

The room goes quiet. You notice your hands are shaking. Your face feels numb.

“You’re right. I don't think anyone’s getting what they want out of this, anyway.”

“We’ll cancel the ball. There’s no way around it. Likely a relief, right, Joshua?”

The moment seems to squirm, suspended in time. This is what you were waiting for, right? Your parents were right—no one wanted this anyway. You certainly didn’t, and now you get your get out of jail free card. On top of that, you get to hear what you’d been expecting all along—that Joshua never liked you, that this was fun and all, but he’s ready to stop playing pretend.

“I…I disagree.” You freeze. “She's my fiancée. I made a commitment to her, and I'm not going to walk away.”

“Joshua, my dear, this arrangement was never going to work. You can be honest.”

This is the part where Joshua nods, does his perfectly symmetric smile, and agrees. This is what he does, what he’s been doing since forever. The story always ends the same way. That was the point.

Instead: “I am being honest. Since when was it illegal to go to your best friend’s birthday party? I don't care what the rest of the world has to say. She’s not who they, or you, think she is.” Through the door-gap, you watch the pursed, resolute draw of Joshua’s lips. “You didn’t even invite her here to talk about her own engagement. You never once gave her a chance.”

A stunned silence falls over the room.

“I’m sorry, but this is how I feel. I won't let you take another girl I love from me. Not again.”

Your hand flies over your mouth, and something twists deep in you, like you’re drowning from the inside out. You can’t, won’t, believe what you just heard. That somehow, beyond all the fighting, the quiet nights, the snide remarks and the fake smiles, that Joshua loved you? Loved? Enough to say all that to the people that ruled his life with an iron fist? None of this made sense, but nothing’s made sense since you got here.

The room erupts into noise, peals of voices all colliding into each other, and you do what you do best—you leave.

—

No one talks about that morning. You don’t even think anyone knows you were there—part of you wishes that you actually weren’t, so you didn’t have all this on your mind. (Joshua, later that day: I got you something from Seoul. From his suitcase, a bottle of soju. Just kidding. Then a jade bracelet, so vibrant it looked like the ocean.) No one talked about Somi, and no one talked about the party.

In fact, everyone had just rolled on as usual, all the way to the end of the week, the day of your engagement ball. Even you did. The word love felt so big, so burdensome, when Joshua had said it to his parents, but you didn't mind it on you.

The lingering touches, late night talks, tea made the way you like—nothing really had changed much since shit hit the fan, but now you knew that was the label. You guess that when you told Joshua you had never been in love before, you were really telling the truth. Either that, or he was just saying whatever the hell he needed to stop your engagement from imploding.

Still, you found yourself still reaching for him. There was an unfamiliar comfort about his nearness. You woke up this morning cradled to his side, and, for once, it wasn’t a scene you wanted to erase.

Now, your hairstylist hoses your blowout down with hairspray. You’d spent the better part of this morning sitting in different chairs, hair, makeup, nails. A part of you waits for the other shoe to drop: Joshua’s mother would waltz in and tell you, Surprise! You’re a single woman again, just as you should be.

It never happens. You’re wrapped in various mists and creams and powders, all the while fielding all the same questions about the ball (—Excited for tonight? Yeah, of course. —How does it feel being the surprise couple of the year? Surprising.)

It’s not until Yunjin comes in, wheeling in your giant, sparkly engagement gown, all Italian lace and satin brocade, that things feel real.

The dress itself is beautiful, a pale champagne number, gathered at the waist with a smattering of crystals down the train. Earlier, when you’d first tried it on, it looked like a costume fit for the girl playing wife. It was another smothering thing that hung on you, just like everything else in your life.

Today, you watch your form tall in the mirror. You meet her eyes, her uncertain mouth. It’s you, for sure, but there’s a stillness about you that you can’t quite put a finger on. Maybe Joshua’s demeanor was contagious.

Yunjin laces your bodice up, careful eyelet by eyelet—“You’re nervous, huh?”

“Is it really that obvious?”

She laughs. “Breathe. You’re not getting married. Not yet, at least.”

“Yunjin, isn’t it weird that no one has talked to me about Somi’s birthday? Everyone on the planet saw the leaks.”

“Maybe they finally learned to stop giving a shit. You looked hot, you had a good time, end of story. It’s not like anyone died.”

True. She grabs your shoulders and looks at you through the reflection of the mirror.

“Smile. Enjoy yourself. You look so, so beautiful.” You take a deep, soaking breath. You think about Joshua and all the sharp edges of his voice when he said he loved you. You had argued with him a lot, and you had never heard him like that. “You want this, right?”

Well, when she puts it like that? Yeah, you do. You think you really do.

—

The Great Hall is unrecognizable when you stand before it; the pink and white zinnias have been replaced by bouquets of calla lily and eucalyptus, the arched ceilings, once cold and imposing, now are bathed in the buttery, warm glow of candlelight. And the too-big space, usually empty, is now filled with partygoers, radiant in their best dress.

You stand at the top of the grand staircase. A thrill, anxious and skittering, runs up your bones. You’re reminded of your last big public showing at the derby, of the sea of microphones and the eye of the camera and the crowd, all staring you down.

You run through the cruel motions. First, a curtesy, so slow you think the audience can see you tremble. Then you take the first step down the stairs, and you watch them turn to you like the tanned halo-faces of sunflowers.

There, in the center of the crowd stands Joshua, unwavering. He's wearing a deep blue tuxedo, unfairly flattering (though, the lone curl of hair falling into his eyes is strong competition). Meeting his gaze, you watch the corners of his mouth fold up in a way that reminds you to breathe. In, out. You’ve got this.

Every step, you feel like you’re learning to walk for the first time, like you've lost your sea legs. Amongst the guests, you spot Jeonghan, next to him Jihoon. Then back to Joshua, like your eyes can’t stay away. He shoots you a covert thumbs up—you’d expect nothing less from the corniest man on Earth—but, nonetheless, it makes the long walk to the center of the room feel much shorter, despite the torture devices on your feet (Louboutins, not broken in).

One, two steps, and you’re face to face with your fiancé. Your heart is still racing, thrumming against the cage of your bodice like it's trying to escape. You’re sure the whole congregation could hear it if not for the quartet that’s come to life, now playing the opening notes of Blue Danube.

Yes, that’s right, you tell yourself. You still have to dance in front of the whole fucking country.

Before you crash out and make this a national emergency, you feel the warmth of Joshua’s touch. Fingertips before palm, always the same, he finds your hand, like he manages to do every single time.

“I’ve got you,” he says, low enough for only you to hear. And for the first time, you believe him.

—

Really, you could have gotten away with saying nothing. It would be much easier, to be honest.

The ball had gone off without a hitch so far. The music was good, the food even better, and your parents were somehow silenced, instead opting to dance among the crowd like they were young again. Still, you can’t seem to put your mind at ease. With everything that had happened this week, Jeonghan’s offer only seemed to weigh heavier, more urgently upon you. And of course, there was the matter of Joshua choosing to opt into your engagement, against all odds.

You realize you had gotten quite good at running away from things—your family, your responsibilities, the media, even Joshua—not knowing how to bear the weight of an impossible duty. Actually, you thought it was a royal failing until you had seen Joshua in the library that morning, jaw set, unbending.

“Hey, Josh?” you ask, with a few bats of the eyelashes to soften the blow.

He tilts his head in that way he does, and his gaze softens. Damn you, you think. Trying to distract me with those horrible, pretty eyes.

“Can we talk about Sunday?”

“What about Sunday?” He still looks confused, and you know the look well enough at this point to know he’s not faking it.

“Um…Sunday morning. After the party,” you say slowly, as if giving yourself time to back out, just in case. “I heard you talking with our parents.”

In an instant, his expression changes, and his eyebrows roll into their usual furrow. You feel his hand falter behind your shoulder blades.

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice drops. “That.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, realizing all you do is apologize. “It was supposed to be a small thing, no cameras, I barely even stayed—.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Joshua interrupts. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I-I know,” you fib. The thing about pretending is that you’ve both become so good at it that you have trouble believing him. “It’s just that I also heard what…what you said.”

Somehow, the wrinkle between his brows grows deeper.

“I said a lot of things that morning.”

You press your lips thin, feeling what you’re about to say ball up on your tongue. Easily, you could change the subject; you didn’t have to know anything, really, you could stay silent and let the world work around you, just as you had been taught. But you watch the soft twist of Joshua’s gaze, how he studies your expression, and you know you can’t go back to how things used to be.

“You said you…” You take a hard swallow. All the blood in your body only wants to exist in the apples of your cheeks, away from your brain where you need it most. “You loved me.”

At once, the world spins off-axis. You feel the anxious flutter of Joshua’s heart under your palm, and your own stomach flips in its cage. The L word coming out of your mouth seems ten-thousand times more ridiculous than anything he could say, probably because you can’t remember the last time you actually said it and it came out all wrong.

He must feel the same way. For once, he can’t meet your eyes. His mouth opens and then closes, as if hoping to delete what you had just said. Maybe you would just keep dancing, beat by beat, and this would all go away.

Silly girl, you think, traitorously. Pick a damn side. Either he likes you or he doesn’t. The problem is that, somehow, both options hurt your feelings.

“I mean, I totally get it if you just said it to keep up the act,” you cut in. “There are a lot of reasons why this is a good idea.”

“The act?”

“Well, yeah,” you reply. “Isn’t that what this is? Haven’t we just been lying to everyone? To ourselves?”

Joshua’s hand at your waist stiffens before he draws you closer to him. You expect him to roll his eyes, do one of those exaggerated sighs that he does when you’re being difficult.

Instead he leans in, close enough for you to feel his voice against your skin.

“Do you think I was lying back there? Or now?”

Your heart lurches.

“I—no, but.” You pause. Every single coherent thought you’ve ever had scatters to the wind. “Well.”

“Because I’m not,” Joshua says, this time, more softly. “Not about this. Or us.”

“But how? Why?” You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your chest swell in a way it never has before. “You’re perfect, and I'm…I’m me.”

“That’s why,” he answers, simply. “You’re smart, funny, honest—sometimes too honest, even. You reminded me there was a better version of me that I had left behind. One that wasn’t perfect, but was happy.”

He holds you in his gaze the same way he did in the garden, carved by moonlight. An impossible warmth fills your skin; at once, it feels like, in your vision, there is only him, like you're in a cartoon.

“At the same time, I understand if—” Joshua starts.

“I feel the same,” you blurt out. “I…I don’t know what this is, and I don’t think I ever really did, but I want to try.”

You watch the surprise write itself all over his doe eyes, his unfairly rounded cheeks. From by the hors d'oeuvres, nosy Jeonghan peeks over the shoulder of another guest, already familiar with your lack of volume control. You watch him grin something stupid, triumphant.

“You’re uptight, judgmental, and you make the worst jokes. But I…I think I might be falling for you too.”

Saying it is like getting peeled back, terrible layer by layer, like you wrapped a hand around your heart and ripped it out your chest. And yet you’re glowing, newly-bitten with something that feels like freedom.

“I thought you said I was perfect,” Joshua says, the pink of his lips already unraveling into a smile. This one, you think, finally reaches his eyes.

“Shush, you—” And amongst a chorus of Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! (which would be, quite frankly, humiliating in any other scenario), you finally give in to your adoring public, and kiss.

—

The walk back to your bedroom is a blur. All you remember are hands—hands on the small of your back, hands riding up the length of your thigh, hands in your hair, pulling at your roots. You remember hands, and the taste of Joshua’s mouth.

It’s a walk you are not proud of, one that you’re glad happened in the dark, with all the guests gone home.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” Joshua says, pressed to the hollow of your neck as you fumble with the handle of the door to your room. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you. No one could.”

Then his lips on yours, before you finally remember how to open a door.

“Fuck, Josh,” you breathe between kisses, stumbling backwards until your back hits the vanity. “Need you, need you so bad.”

He bites your lip, lets you sigh into his mouth.

“Dress, off,” you tell him, and you lean forward on the table. Obediently, Joshua gets to work. His touch feels fiery, electric on your skin.

In the mirror, you’re able to see the damage: your lipstick, smudged beyond repair, your blown-out pupils under your heavy lashes. There’s a hickey on your collarbone.

“Now you have me wishing you'd wear one of those party dresses,” Joshua murmurs, still working at the lacing at your waist. “Far easier to take off.”

“Really. The same ones that got me in big trouble with you lot?"

"For what it's worth," he replies, before kissing the back of your neck, then the ticklish space under your ear to make you laugh. "I always liked you in those. Even before we met."

"No way." He’s finished with the lacing; your dress falls to your feet in a glorious heap of silk and lace, leaving you in your slip. Another kiss to your jaw, your cheek. "You hated them."

"I almost bought a copy of Insider, the one with the cover of you in the black dress with the long sleeves."

"Shut up," you laugh again, somewhere in between kisses. He’s talking about Soonyoung's New Year’s Eve party, a few years back. You were getting out the back of a cab, alcohol-flushed and on a phone call with God knows who. "I still have it, you know. I could wear it for you one of these days."

"Don't tempt me." Joshua kneels, bending down to undo your heels. You feel him press his lips to the back of your knee, your thigh. “Friday. Dinner?”

“Done.”

Then he stands back to full height and leans into you, just so you can feel him. Like clockwork, your skin prickles wonderfully even just thinking about blowing him in the back of the limo, that night he had held you down on his cock.

Joshua must see how you squeeze your legs together. He pushes your slip up over the curve of your ass; you feel the rough of his hands over your skin, over the flimsy lace you have on for underwear. Then, before you can say a word, he pulls the waistband back, meanly, enough to tug on the hood of your clit, and lets it snap back against your skin.

“Oh, fuck,” you keen. You had no idea you were so sensitive, but Joshua’s foreplay game was way better than you thought. “Please, Shua.”

“Oh? So you like when I'm a little mean?”

You watch your face in the mirror flush pink, your bitten lips fall open in surprise. He pulls tight on your panties again, loving how your eyes squeeze shut.

“Maybe.” You pause, humiliated. Fuck it, the cat’s already out of the bag. “Yeah.”

Joshua’s hands are warm, so warm, when they peel the fabric down your trembling thighs.

“Legs apart, darling,” he tells you, mouth pressed to your shoulder. “So you like to boss me around the castle, but now you want me to tell you what to do? Is that so?”

Before you can answer, you feel a finger along the seam of your cunt. You can’t see Joshua’s face in the mirror, but you can sure see yours, and you hate how even the smallest of touches has you drooling. Then a touch to your swollen clit, just rough enough to draw a gasp from you.

“I-it’s different,” you protest. Two fingers now, both rolling your clit under them. A whimper tumbles out of your chest, and your hips seem to be moving on their own accord. “Didn’t know you had…experience.”

“Still not sure what made you think otherwise.” A quiet chuckle, then the slow, agonizing push of one of his fingers inside you. “Fuck, you love that, huh? Soaking my hand.”

“Yeah…” The vanity table suddenly feels too crowded to support the weight of your body, especially like this, as Joshua continues to work your clit with his other digit. Feeling your body surge again with heat, you push aside your makeup bag, all your stupid little bottles, so you can prop yourself up on your arms.

Another finger, and your legs are shaking. Quickly, he seems to have figured out how to hit your g-spot every time, every pump of his hand knocking into you just the way you like.

“I think it was how annoying you were that did you in,” you finally answer, trying your best to put up a fair fight. “Kinda detracts from your sex appeal.”

“Annoying?” Joshua asks, right up against the shell of your ear. Like this, you can see him in the mirror, and it almost sends you over. The dark hair in his face, the insatiable look in his eyes. Then a third finger, and your eyes roll back. “Am I annoying you? Doesn’t really seem like it.”

Your body answers for you. You feel yourself tighten around his fingers, fuck, you’re so close, you feel your head start to spin. You watch your reflection shake her head, glassy-eyed and dumb.

He laughs cruelly. His free hand reaches up to find your tits, and, over the slip, he grabs one, rough like he’s a meaner man, like he’s slutting you out.

At once, you feel the lightning heat of your release. You cry out, airy and high-pitched, and feel your body rock against Joshua’s as he pins you between himself and the vanity.

“There you go,” he murmurs. His hand slows, letting you ride out your high, before he pulls out. “Wanted to do this ever since I kissed you that night.”

“Which night?” you ask, catching your breath. A kiss to your shoulder blade, the nape of your neck.

“The night you taught me to kiss. Or rather, tried to.”

Ah, yes. The night you told him what Shark Tale was, and the night you made out for so long, you felt it on your lips in the morning. Dumb fucking Joshua, stupid and in love. The affection that surges through your body makes you mad.

“You needed lessons.”

“Not really, don’t you think?”

“Bed. You’re talking too much,” you insist, turning around to see him. “Also, you’re wearing too much.”

“Back to arguing with me, I see. Can’t stay away.” Joshua’s shit-eating grin prompts you to yank his tie impatiently, shutting him up. It comes off easily, just as his belt and the waistband of his slacks. (You weren’t about to let them best you a second time).

“Maybe ‘cause you find a way to be difficult about everything.” You wrinkle your nose, and Joshua’s grin only grows wider. “Don’t make me give you another order,” you warn, fully aware that since you guys got here, it’d been him doing the orders.

You pull your slip over your head, now only in your bra, and lay back in the bed. You think of all the sleepless nights, then the ones spent talking, the ones in his arms. To think they would all culminate to this, to you now watching Joshua undo button by button with a desire unlike any other you’ve felt—it would almost be unbelievable if you weren’t doing it right now.

Like a striptease, you watch his chest peek out between the linen of his shirt. He's wearing a necklace today, one that settles meanly between his pecs. As he moves lower, you can’t help but notice the outline of his cock in his briefs, the spot of precum on the fabric.

Traitorously, you feel your mouth water. The shirt comes off, and your lungs fill with another shaky breath.

You know you’re both letting your freak flag fly (one of you more surprising than the other) but it’s in this moment, caught in the lamplight, that you realize how much things have really changed. Still, you’re not able to tell Joshua that this is the first time you’re sleeping with someone you might be in the L word with, but you think he sees it too, or at least, reads the look on your face.

You feel the dip of the bed underneath as he joins you.

“Are you ok? That wasn’t too much, right?”

“No, it was…it was good. really good,” you admit, feeling your face heat up again. “I just…I dunno. I like you a lot, that’s all.”

“Hm?”

“I—” you stutter, and your mouth freezes up again. “I said I like you a lot.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to hear you say it twice.” He sees the dismay on your face and smiles. “Hm…I like you an adequate amount. On a good day.”

Against your will, you crack the fattest smile you think your body is capable of. “You are the worst. The absolute worst, and I still want you to fuck me.”

Upon hearing this, Joshua does not waste time. That he does—it isn’t long before he has your knees hiked to your chest, cock between your pussy lips.

“Say you want it,” he whispers. You feel the cold kiss of his chain on your chest, the slick rock of his length between your legs. He's so hard, so big, your cunt already aches at the thought of it.

“Want it.” Your voice comes out small, breathy. You would fight back, but you’re realizing you quite like this side of him. “Please.”

When the head of his cock presses into you, there is no hiding. Already, you moan, sweet and loud, feeling the familiar pressure in your gut.

“K-keep going,” you babble. Fuck, he barely fit in your mouth and now he’s stuffing your cunt. You wrench your eyes shut, listening to him talk you through it (—Look at you taking me so well. Feels good, huh? You’re so beautiful. Honestly, it’s a miracle Joshua’s ex never had a royal baby with how much they must have fucked.)

Your second orgasm comes quickly, not long after Joshua bottoms out. He groans right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder, and it’s the best noise you think you’ve heard in your life.

The third comes slowly, more intensely. With your knees to your chest, you think you can feel Joshua all the way in your stomach. Every stroke fucks the sound out of you, his cockhead right up against your sweet spot as he fills you again and again. Sometime between orgasm two and three, he’s pulled your tits out from your bra, left marks across your chest.

“Want you to touch yourself,” he tells you, voice low.

Mindlessly, you listen. One hand finds your nipple, the other your clit, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling.

“F-feels good, Shua.” He enters you again, all the way, and the pleasure is white-hot. “O-oh, fuck,” you warble.

“You’re so good at listening to me, you should do it all the time,” he murmurs. “There you go. Take it, take it, just like that. This must be what I have to do to get you to be nice, hm?”

All you can do is stare up at him, positively fucked dumb, and take it, just as he told you to. One, two strokes, and you feel yourself get impossibly tight; “Fill me, need it, need it,” you whine, delirious. Everything from the look in his eyes, the flushed sweat over his brow, his collarbones to the way his expression responds with every word you say, makes you wonder why you wasted time fucking anyone else.

When he comes, he bites your shoulder, hard, and it’s what you need to follow soon after. You feel so fucking full, so satisfied, you think you could die happy here.

Joshua flops down on the bed next to you, boneless. You think he’s about to say something akin to that you should have put a towel down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls your body to him, lets you feel the warmth of his skin play against yours.

He’s murmuring wonderful things to you, which you would gladly reciprocate if words weren’t coming to you one letter a minute. It’s not your fault though—you need to recover physically, emotionally, spiritually after getting the soul fucked out of you.

Then, “Me or you shower first?”

You groan as a response.

“I’m serious.”

“Together?” you offer weakly.

“Fair chance we won’t just be showering then.”

“Oh nooo.”

That’s all Joshua needs to whisk you to the bathroom, where, indeed, he seems to be right yet again.

—

The spring morning washes over Acros like a second skin. The birdsong rouses you; through the curtains comes sunlight from the garden, spackled on the wall as if spots on a doe.

It’s been almost a year since your parents had told you that you were marrying Joshua Hong, prince of Acros. Six months since he had told you he had loved you. Two months since you and Jeonghan had pulled off your first joint production at the youth theater (a roaring success). One month since you were fully, fully moved in, Astrid and Jihoon included.

After your engagement ball, you and Joshua had agreed to take it slow, as slow as two people who had very publicly announced their wedding could. But still, somehow your parents, both sets, could tolerate the two of you wanting to do things the right way. Perhaps they were still shocked things worked out as well as they did.

“Morning,” you call out. The bed beside you is cold. “Josh?”

You’re surprised he’s up. Last night, he went out with you, Somi, and Soonyoung. Somehow, he had drunk enough to get up and solo karaoke a Whitney Houston song, although you’re suspecting the alcohol was just a cover for his true intentions.

Then you look out the window. You spot Joshua, seated on the bench overlooking the garden. This time of year, the roses are in full bloom, their bright heads reaching for the sky in brilliant red and gold.

When you go to join him outside, he’s no longer at the bench. You actually don’t know where the fuck he went, but it’s no matter. Here, you’re able to appreciate the beauty of the season, the rolling green of the country you’re now calling home.

It was also here where you had your first real conversation with Joshua without fighting, funnily enough. Now, you’d say the both of you were more agreeable, but that’d be a lie—somehow, you think you actually enjoy bickering with him, but that’s a conversation for another day.

Behind you, someone (Joshua) clears his throat.

“Now, what are you—” you say, spinning around. It was too damn early for games, but Joshua had no shortage of bad ideas.

It’s then that you see Joshua behind you, on one knee. His smile tells you everything you have to know, and every thought in your mind freezes in an instant.

“When I first saw you, I knew I would marry you,” he starts. That's a joke he’s probably been saving for months now, but instead of rolling your eyes, you can’t help but laugh, like you’re a broken soundboard. “No, really.”

You stand there, immovable. Of course you had to be in your pajamas (his shirt and boxers, really), no makeup, hair untouched. And yet, you can’t imagine anything more perfect.

“You drive me crazy,” Joshua continues. “In every way possible. I can't imagine life without your laugh, or your thinking face, or how you always need to have an answer for everything.”

He produces a small box. It’s different from the first one, the one he used all those months ago when nothing mattered. Inside it, a new ring, something far simpler and more beautiful.

Joshua says your name, wonderful and reverent in his mouth. “Darling princess of Cotria, I'm asking you to marry me. Again.”

And you say yes, for the very first time.

[END]

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