#they were only 9k treasure n i lost it

[spicysix]

fake it 'till you make it | jonathan byers X reader

“It was all Nancy Wheeler's fault. I mean, literally. Quite from the beginning. Because it was all about Nancy Wheeler, wasn't it? It was all because of Nancy Wheeler, it was all for Nancy Wheeler.” or: you and Jonathan create a plan to make Nancy jealous

warnings: fake relationship, in between S1 and S2, gn! reader (no pronouns, no gendered terms, no y/n used). mostly fluff, a pinch of crack taken seriously at the beginning just because i love it, right before all the fucking feels hit in. and my already known absurd use of italics.

word count: 9.1k

a/n: based on this request, thank you so much anon. your request drove me completely insane, i had a few out of body experiences and ended up with 9k words of love and devotion to Jonathan Byers. don't worry, no Nancy hate in here, it's almost as much of a love letter to her as it is to Jonathan tbh, Reader just doesn't know better in the first paragraphs. hope y'all like it! don't forget to reblog if you do, and comments are always treasured and kept in a little golden box in my nightstand for me to delight in them on lonely nights ♡

↳ ao3

It was all Nancy Wheeler's fault.

I mean, literally. Quite from the beginning. Because it was all about Nancy Wheeler, wasn't it? It was all because of Nancy Wheeler, it was all for Nancy Wheeler.

Okay, let’s start from the top.

Jonathan has always kind of been there. He didn't say much, he didn't present himself much, he didn't get quite noticed. But he has always been there. And you had a thing for those who weren't actually seen, but that had always been there anyway.

Your interest was purely out of curiosity, though, of course. Because you wanted to understand the whole thing. Sure, you had the bigger picture — abusive, absent father, overprotective mom, young brother, and the whole heavy weight of teen parentalization on top of Johnny-boy's scrawny shoulders.

Multiply that for, like, a billion, and we get what we got after November 6th: missing young brother, over-overprotective mom, asshole opportunistic father, and the whole heavy weight of guilt on top of Johnny-boy's scrawny shoulders.

And, in the middle of all that, enters Nancy Wheeler.

Okay, wait, from the top again.

It was mid-May, and Jonathan was just there, as usual. Revealing some photos, the bigger and the smaller pictures you were so deeply curious to see. A precisely requested assignment for a History project — you really loved History, you'd put all your effort into it — and, oh wow! You were also there!

Both of you revealing your pictures, Johnathan had used that shiny new camera he showed up with after Christmas break — after Nancy Wheeler's boyfriend, Steve Harrington, broke the previous one (I mean, if the rumors were true, Johnny-boy was being kind of a creep. But apparently he apologized or whatever, because after Steve's purple eye and Will Byers' death and resuscitation thing, you've seen Johnathan, Steve, and Nancy Wheeler having lunch all together. As crazy as it all sounded).

That’s a digression, back from the top again.

You and Jonathan were sharing the silence only a red room and its buzzing little red lamp lights could provide, minding your own business. Well, he was minding his own business, you were kind of curious about the bigger and the smaller pictures. Minding his business as well.

Shoulder to shoulder as you worked on your photos, you hanging your own as Jonathan took his down from where they've been drying.

It was literally a bigger and a smaller picture, okay, I kid you not.

Jonathan seemed to get lost in his thoughts as he analyzed the bigger one, the one you've seen already — what seemed to be a reunion of sorts between the Byers and the Wheelers, parents and children, and those other two little gremlins that Will and Mike (was it Mike? Nancy’s younger brother, Will’s best friend) were inseparable friends with.

The younger ones were sitting on the floor, those huge smiles on their baby faces, happiness exhaling from, well, probably finding out that their friend that had gone missing for a week wasn't actually dead.

The parents, Joyce Byers, and Karen and What's-His-Face Wheeler were sitting on the couch behind the kids, pride and joy in the mothers' faces and boredom on the father's face — it was his permanent state, you were aware of it by now from seeing him from time to time on the streets.

Pretty, preppy, prissy Nancy was standing behind the couch, just behind her daddy, younger baby sister in her arms as she smiled that tiny little pouty smile of hers. No pretty, preppy, poshy Steve in sight, you wondered where he was, as Jonathan was standing beside Nancy and the baby, hands in his pants pockets, that perpetual blank stare in his eyes of someone being constantly haunted.

You found it cute, somehow.

Cute in, like, a curious kind of way. Wanted to find out what was haunting him so badly.

And then. In the present, real, out-of-picture time or whatever, Jonathan snapped out of his thoughts as he went to get the other picture — the smaller one — from where it was hanging. His hand stopped a single inch before touching it, and you saw from the corner of your eye that he was looking at you from the corner of his eye. Combine the peripheral vision situation with his hesitancy to grab the smaller picture, your life-long curiosity and an impulsive strike, and before you even thought about what you were doing, you were suddenly grabbing the fucking picture before Jonathan could.

You grabbed it, and he let out what sounded like a gasp and a whimper at the same time, and you walked backward until your back met the wall behind you. And Jonathan was all over you in a second, trying to grab your arms as you put them behind your back, hiding the picture — you didn't even get to see it, had no idea what he was so mortified about. He was saying, or screaming maybe, something at you that you couldn’t distinguish because his head was too close to yours. Distress all over his cute scrawny face, and you barely had the time to register the guilt bubbling in your stomach — because, fuck, why did you do that? It was a personal thing, you weren't even friends, you had talked to him like five times tops if you didn't count the whole trimester where you were basically best friends because of that Science project in freshman year.

You missed freshman year.

Anyway, there was no time to think about freshman year.

Over from the top, for real this time!

In the middle of all that, enters Nancy Wheeler.

Literally, physically enters the red room while you and Jonathan are pressed together against the wall, your arms behind your back, his arms on your arms and waist or maybe hips — you were unfocused, to be honest, by the fact that he was basically manhandling you with all his scrawny kid strength.

Well, Jonathan did win a fight over Steve Harrington, handed the School King's ass to him on a golden plate, so you shouldn't be that much surprised.

Alas, Nancy stopped at the door, her huge doe eyes getting even huger, sharp jaw going slack, long pointy fingers wrapped so tightly around the door handle that her knuckles were white.

"Oh! I- Jesus, I'm sorry! Jonathan, I-" Jonathan hadn't said a word since she entered, his whole body had gone frozen, and you were afraid he had stopped breathing altogether. "I'll come back later? I- Or, you'll come find me? I- Oh, god, I'm sorry!"

She ran off after her eloquent speech, not waiting for an answer and slamming the door behind her. Jonathan walked away from you and started murmuring something under his breath while walking in circles within the tiny space in the red room, forgetting about you and your stupid kidnapping of his picture, and finding out a new something to stress about.

You brought your arm to your front, finally looking at it and seeing what he really didn’t want you to see in the picture.

Guess who?

Nancy Fucking Wheeler.

It was on the same day as the other photo if Nancy’s clothes were to say, and she was away from the camera, her profile showing. Holding a single flower — you had no idea which one, you didn’t understand much about flowers. You knew it wasn’t a rose — in between her thin fingers, nose close to the petals, a delicate smile on her lips. She was in front of a window, the light from the outside encompassing her in a kind of godly aura, specks of dust around her, and yet she was the main focus of the whole frame.

As far as a picture could talk, this one was screaming ‘love’ so loudly it was deafening.

Something stirred in your belly, something raw and annoying and mean, but you ignored it and approached Jonathan carefully — as he was still kind of shaking, palms pressed tightly against his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, already stretching your arm to give him back his Nancy Wheeler love portrait. “Curiosity killed the cat and whatnot,” you muttered as he looked at you with anger and snatched the photo from your fingers.

“Yeah, and it’s gonna get you killed too.” His voice was restrained, his whole strength going into not yelling at you again even if his words were threatening enough. “You should go,” he commanded before remembering that his pictures were ready and yours weren’t. “I should go.”

He gathered his photos, his tools and his backpack, and you couldn’t will yourself to tear your eyes from every single movement he made, even if it was painful to watch because he was so clearly pissed at you — and rightfully so.

“If it’s any worth, she looked jealous,” you said, right before he left the red room.

Jonathan paused, door half open, his hand gripping the handle so tightly his knuckles were going white — a perfect mirror image of what Nancy looked like just a few minutes before. He didn’t turn to look at you or to answer your remark, just huffed, shook his head, and left, slamming the door behind him.

You rubbed your face, felt like tearing your hair off your head, took a few long, deep breaths before resuming your task of revealing the photos for your History Project. Buried every single feeling into your head and heart, they weren’t worthy to feel or talk about, and you had more pressing urges.

The History Project. Something about your local community, how a small town revolved around its few citizens, and you thanked every god you could come up with that Jonathan left before you revealed your last picture. Or, that you distracted Jonathan enough by prodding onto his secrets before the revealing liquid did its job and revealed the secrets you were hiding yourself.

You took the picture from the container with the revealing liquid and hung it alongside the other ones you had already put up to dry. You looked at your secret smaller picture.

Out of frame, you knew that Joyce Byers was at the cashier counter of Melvald’s, handing little Will some random candy as he looked excited at the gift. In the frame, in the picture, focused on, behind Will, was Jonathan. Also on his profile, almost the same angle as his own picture of Nancy. He was smiling softly at the sight of his family once again reunited in such an uneventful task such as grocery shopping. The natural daylight from outside the store made his skin glow, and the little crisp texture and reflexes of the not-so-clean window between you and him made the picture look somehow cozy — the opposite effect of distancing that you’d think it would give it. He was at the very center of the frame, soft brown jacket over his shoulders, hands holding plastic bags as he waited for his brother, his pink cheeks making your own face heat up — you remembered. You were infatuated with how relaxed he looked, some of that whole heavy weight finally off his scrawny shoulders; so relaxed that he didn’t even notice you from across the street, taking the picture like a fucking weirdo stalker.

And as far as a picture could talk, this one was screaming ‘love’ so loudly it was deafening.

Thankfully, your own ears were the only ones at range. And accustomed to the noise already.

-✧-

“I fucked up.”

Those were the first words you heard from Jonathan after the whole Nancy Wheeler love portrait fiasco in the red room. It was Friday already, and three whole days had passed - not that you were waiting for him to come talk to you sooner, because you never even talked before that, but something about the way you’d cross eyes in the hallways of the school made the air between you two weighted with something other than your crippling guilt.

“Come again?” you asked, setting down the Bukowski book you were pretending to read for your English class - ugh, Bukowski annoyed you.

Jonathan, for some reason, seemed annoyed at you.

‘Some reason’, okay, other than the obvious reason.

“I avoided Nancy after that day for as long as I could, but then she cornered me earlier today and I got too nervous and might have made the whole situation worst than it already was,” he answered, looking around him as if someone in the school parking lot was about to come out from behind a car and punch him in the face.

Hm, maybe Steve Harrington would.

“How did you manage that?” you asked again, crossing a leg under the other where you were sitting on the bench.

“I might have told her we, you and me, I mean, are… in a relationship.”

There was a ringing in your ear that kind of popped before the world went abruptly silent. You could see Jonathan in front of you, staring at you, waiting for your answer, but he was kind of blurry and the people walking behind him seemed to move in slow motion all of a sudden. It felt like years before you gathered just enough brain power to answer him.

“You. What.”

He groaned, and that made the world go back to normal inside your head, before he rubbed his eyes with the tip of his fingers.

“She came at me, asked who you were and if everything was okay that day, and all I could think of was you saying she had been jealous and, I don’t know, it felt like I blacked out or was possessed or something and then, out of nowhere, I was saying we were dating.”

“To make her more jealous?” you confirmed, and he shrugged violently.

“I guess!” he almost yelled, and then curled over himself in embarrassment. He hid his whole face behind the palms of his hands and you wanted to push them away, hold his cheeks yourself and-

Nope, block that thought out.

“Okay,” you said instead.

“Okay? ‘Okay’, what? Jesus, are you even more insane than I thought?”

You shrugged and pretended his words didn’t sting. “I’m saying we should go for it.” You saw his mouth opening, and spoke before whatever words were going to come out of him could hurt you further: “I can be your fake lover, you make Nancy jealous, she finds out she wants you and not Steve, dumps his ass and you and her will live happily ever after.”

Why were your impulsive thoughts making you so willingly throw yourself into a scenery that was only going to hurt you badly? You had no answer for that.

Jonathan frowned and actually seemed to consider, which was probably worse because you were pretty sure he was going to immediately deny your offer. It was a crazy fucking offer after all, who did you think you were? Molly Ringwald in a rom-com?

Well, apparently Jonathan thought he was Anthony Michael Hall, because the next thing he said was: “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Dude. You’re kidding me?” you asked, twisting your entire body to fully face him and he seemed confused. “I was being sarcastic!” You weren’t, not really, but he didn’t know that. “We can’t do that, it won’t work! Just grow out some balls and ask her out, or whatever.”

You got up and started gathering your stuff since your free period was coming to an end, but Jonathan held your wrist before you could leave, a wave of shock starting where your skins connected all the way up to your brain. You ignored it.

“I already embarrassed myself too much in front of her. Please?” he begged, those sweet eyes of his staring deeply into your soul, and you huffed.

Closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see him, pulled your arm away so he wouldn’t touch you. He had too much power over you — and he had no idea.

“You owe me one, boyfriend,” you said just in time for the bell to ring, and then you were on your way to your English class, Bukowski ignored and forgotten, Jonathan’s pleading eyes the only thing on your mind.

“So, boyfriend, how did our love story begin?” Your question startled Jonathan, who hadn’t seen your approach.

He was sitting on the bench furthest from the entry of the park, looking at every direction around him just as he was in the school parking lot earlier that day. Still scared Steve Harrington would pop out of nowhere to beat his ass in revenge a few weeks late.

Jonathan had the luck of not sharing a single class with you over the rest of the school day, so he slipped a little note into your locker at some point, like a middle schooler trying to flirt. His note, however, did not read “WANNA GO GET MILKSHAKES WITH ME? [ ] YES [ ] NO - MARK WITH AN X”, but a simple “meet me @ train station park after school, gotta plan this right” instead.

Underwhelming.

You, however, were a pro at nothing else except committing to a bit, and it had been your stupid idea after all. So you went to the damn train station park to meet him and plan your damn love story, just so the two of you could make damned Nancy Wheeler jealous.

Jonathan was jumpy and kept as much distance in between you on the bench as he could, as if he was afraid you were going to attack him and devour his flesh like a monster coming from a sci-fi horror. You buried all your thoughts and feelings for him in the deepest of corners inside your mind (you’ve been doing that a lot, lately) and tried not to take any of his skittish reactions personally.

The two of you worked nicely, considering all the circumstances, and came up with some ideas that weren’t half bad. If you stopped to think why you were even doing all that in the first place, you’d have a hysterical laughing fit, so you just pretended like you were rehearsing a school play or something.

“You… need a ride?” Jonathan asked and you thought for half a minute before denying.

Surely it would be better if the two of you spent more time together since you were supposed to be dating. But Jonathan was still acting weird — more than usual — and you really didn’t want to impose or to feel worse than you already did from all his mistreatment.

“Uh, no, house’s not that far,” you lied, it was a good walk to your home, but Jonathan seemed relieved at your answer so you felt like you picked the right one.

You suppressed the need to huff, roll your eyes and push him in annoyance or do something else a middle schooler would do.

You also suppressed the will to smile politely at him as you said your goodbyes because, frankly, he wasn’t so deserving of it.

Phone numbers were exchanged in case of emergencies or needs to plan further, and you left before he could come up with something else. You were tired, drained really, from suppressing so much the whole day, and you couldn’t wait to sleep throughout the whole weekend if you could. Hoping no ‘Jonathan Byers loves Nancy Wheeler and would do anything for her’ emergencies would come up. Building up the courage to continue your own ‘You love Jonathan Byers and would do anything for him’ stupid plan.

-✧-

From all the worldviews you had to deconstruct as you grew older — you know, like, Santa isn't real, Reagan’s not a good president no matter what your grandpa said, vegetables are good for your health, and no, U2 wasn't actually that great of a band-

Well, the hardest and also easiest mental worldview deconstruction to be made was that Nancy Wheeler was actually a nice gal.

It was easy because it happened only after your first lunch with your brand new boyfriend Jonathan, and his great best friends Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler herself.  Because it took Nancy one single lunch to win you over with all that wit, brains, charm of hers. And it was hard because, let's be honest, you've been holding a grudge over her for absolutely nothing (let’s call it nothing, okay?) for… a couple of years, now.

It happened Monday, and Jonathan was waiting for you outside your classroom right before lunch break, ready to take you to meet his friends or whatever they were. You were caught by surprise, but you were also a great improviser, and so you tucked his hands into yours (ignored his astounded demeanor and the blush in his cheeks, and that electric wave that hit you again) and let him lead you down the hallways.

You tried not to pay attention to all the looks you received. If all that had happened before November, you wouldn’t even be noticed — neither you nor Jonathan noticeable enough to gather attention from your peers. After his… well, after everything that happened to him and around him after November 6th, though, Jonathan was a little more perceived around school grounds.

Your face burned and your palms sweat with all the eyes turned on you, but you mastered the art of looking blasé all the way to the cafeteria. All the way to the table where Steve and Nancy were sitting side by side, his arm over her shoulder as they talked quietly.

“Hey,” Jonathan greeted as you reached the table, and the couple looked up at you. Steve raised an eyebrow and Nancy’s face contorted in some way before settling into a smile. Jonathan introduced you by name. “we’re dating,” he said, mostly to Steve who didn’t seem to know the news.

“Oh, wow. Cool, man. And nice to meet you,” Steve nodded at you with his million-dollar smile.

“Same,” you answered before letting go of Jonathan’s hand, sitting down and getting your sandwich from your backpack.

Jonathan sat down beside you and you could feel how stiff he was moving. You’d normally reach out and try and reassure him through physical contact if he was a friend of yours. But even though you were dating, you didn’t know if he would react nicely to that. So you kept to yourself.

“It’s nice to finally meet you properly,” Nancy called out, reaching across the table to rest her hand against your arm. Her skin was warm. “I’m sorry about… the other day.”

Steve turned to her clearly confused, and you answered before he could ask questions.

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, we have Math together, don’t we?” you asked instead, and Nancy nodded before going on a rampage about the Math teacher who was an absolute asshole.

She didn’t seem like a huge talker, but that was just one of your misconceptions about her that she went off on proving you wrong about. She seemed cold and distant, but she was actually really attentive and asked questions about you all lunch. She seemed uptight and annoying, but she was actually really funny and amusing. She seemed arrogant and presumptuous, but she was actually really down to earth and offered to help you with some English assignments in exchange for you to help her with some Math assignments.

She talked quietly and smoothly, and had witty remarks to every single comment her boyfriend made — not all of them were dumb, and not all of Nancy’s answers bordered on mean, but some of them certainly did. Steve didn’t seem to mind, though. He looked at her as if she hung the Sun all the way up in the sky. It was funny to see them side by side. They had a lot in common, physically. Top line, casual-chic clothing, elegant fabric softener smell, ironed to no faults. Sharp-edged jaws and expressive eyes, silk-smooth tongues and winning smiles, charisma all over.

That’s as far as it went, though.

Her nerdy comments went in through Steve’s left ear and out through his right. Jonathan laughed at them. Her journalistic eye caught onto little details that went unnoticed by her boyfriend. Jonathan noticed them with her. Steve smiled politely at Jonathan’s dry jokes, not always understanding them, but Nancy hid her laughs behind her wrist.

As if god was trying to show you that opposites attract, and if the devil was trying to give him a counterpoint of: no, actually, similars attract. All happening right in front of your skeptical eyes in the middle of school lunch, in between Science and PE.

Jonathan walked you to your next class after it was all over, and you were overwhelmed with how much you enjoyed Nancy Wheeler’s company. Which made it all extra difficult, since now you understood Jonathan’s infatuation with her.

“See you later,” he said his goodbye at the gym entrance.

A group of people walked past the two of you and Jonathan thought it was a good idea to land a kiss on your cheek. Your breath hitched and you didn’t have the time to say goodbye back before Jonathan was walking to the main building, to his own class.

Your cheek burned the whole day, and so did the hand you used to hold his through the hallways, and your heart ached with the thoughts on your mind of how much Jonathan and Nancy seemed meant to be, and how much you wish they weren’t.

-✧-

It was two whole weeks of that. Two whole weeks walking hand-in-hand with Jonathan and sitting with him, Nancy, and Steve at lunch. And sitting beside Nancy at the Math classes you shared, because she invited you to and you couldn’t say no.

And there was something about the three of them, something weird that they seemed to have in common. When they’d reminisce over something that happened around the time Will went missing, and they would stop and look at you mid-sentence sometimes, and one of them would suddenly change the subject.

You were curious, of course, it was part of your nature to be exceedingly curious at all times.

But they all seemed to hate to talk about it, even if they brought it up from time to time, and you seemed to recognize that constantly haunted look of Jonathan in his friends’ faces as well, and the look wasn’t as cute anymore.

So you didn’t pry.

Somewhere between the end of May and the beginning of June, Nancy and Steve asked you and Jonathan to go out with them on a double date, as if reading your mind for what could possibly be your worst nightmare, but again you couldn’t say no.

You might have picked your best outfit, and you might have done your hair more carefully than you usually did, and you might have put on an extra ring or necklace. And your parents might have noticed, and you might have lied and said you were going to a colleague’s birthday party and not on a double date to the movies and a restaurant with your weird fake boyfriend and his weird preppy friends.

Jonathan picked you up at seven sharp in his old Ford and he didn’t seem much different than usual outfit-wise, but he was definitely using cologne.

“You look nice,” he said as you entered the car and you tried not to swoon at the crumbs of his attention.

“You smell nice,” you answered, and it pleased you enough to see that blush of his creeping up his neck and cheeks.

Steve and Nancy were already there waiting under the marquee. Jonathan parked and the two of you left the car and went on your way to meet the other couple. Nancy greeted you with a tight hug. You wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic just as much as you wanted to stay in the unusual embrace for a long time.

“This is where your boyfriend gave me a taste of his amazing right hook,” Steve said to you, pointing at the little alley by the theater.

“Steve!” Nancy reprimanded, but it seemed like she was holding back a smile.

“What was all that about, anyway?” you asked, giving into your curiosity, eager for the whole story now that you could finally have it.

You forgot that dating Jonathan should probably mean that you’d know what it was all about already. He would’ve told the person he was dating, right? Thankfully no one seemed to notice your little slip.

“Jonathan was a bit of a creep, I was a huge of an asshole and Nancy sadly got caught in between us,” Steve answered honestly. “We’re all good now, though, aren’t we? All in the past.” He smiled at the other two, who nodded along and smiled back.

Jonathan and Nancy’s smiles didn’t seem as sincere as Steve’s. And that didn’t feel like the actual whole story, but again you didn’t pry because they were getting that weird haunted look.

Steve threw his arm over Nancy’s shoulder. “Let’s get some popcorn, my treat,” he said and started walking into the theater. Jonathan touched your lower back, guiding you, and you held back a sigh.

You were in for a long evening.

Indiana Jones conquered the Temple Of Doom, or whatever. You didn’t pay much attention, it was hard to with Jonathan’s arm draped over your shoulder the whole time and the whispered little comments he would make with Nancy — instead of you — through the film.

You went to a restaurant after, Nancy’s choice, not too far from the theater so you all walked there. Hand in hand again. Nancy and Steve behind you, talking about the movie. Jonathan tried to rile up a conversation about it with you — finally — but, as you hadn’t paid much attention, you didn’t have a lot to say.

Food was good and thankfully the topic of conversation wasn’t the movie, because you couldn’t pretend to have paid attention to it in front of the three of them at the same time. Instead, you talked about your summer plans. Well, mostly Steve’s summer plans, he was going on vacation with his parents, somewhere on the East Coast, maybe Hawaii? Nancy was just going to see her grandma for a couple of weeks up in Chicago. Your parents weren’t fans of travels, and Jonathan was… well, the guy was poor. So Steve’s plans were the most thrilling ones.

“Too bad your parents won’t wanna travel, you could have the house to yourselves,” Steve said with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You laughed loudly — mostly nervously — and Jonathan blushed. It was your usual responses at this point.

“Sure, yeah,” you said, if only not to leave a weird silence up, before looking at your wristwatch. “They’re very strict anyway, and look at that! I gotta be home soon,” you continued, and Jonathan coughed to hide a laugh.

“We should ask for the check,” he said and raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention.

That weird conversation was over, finally, and you paid for the dinner individually. By the grace of gods Steve didn’t comment on Jonathan not paying for you, since he paid for his own girlfriend, but he sure eyed you curiously as you handed your money.

“This was so nice, we should do it more often!” Nancy commented on your way back to the cars, her arm intertwined with yours as Steve and Jonathan steered behind. “It feels nice to have a normal friend after-” she stopped herself and her eyes widened, and she gulped loudly and didn’t finish her sentence.

You remembered Barb Holland, and her great English essays and her amazing grades in History, and her suspicious disappearance near Will’s back in November. How she supposedly ran away from home. How she didn’t seem at all like the type to do that.

Nancy was looking guilty and haunted, that look the three of them shared, and your curiosity was turning into apprehension of knowing what had happened. She let go of your arm, and she never finished her sentence. The boys also went quiet behind you. There was a weighted tension on top of the four of you.

You reached Steve’s bimmer and he touched Nancy’s arm to lead her to the passenger side, and she was still in a kind of haze as she waved goodbye from the window. Steve seemed worried, and so did Jonathan, but none of them said anything. And neither did you.

Jonathan took you home, one of his hipster band’s tape on the sound system, the stars out brightly and the most awkward of silences between the two of you.

There was no one out in your street to see you as he parked in your driveway, but he kissed your cheek goodbye all the same. And you held him tightly in a hug, wanting to comfort him even though you had no idea what haunted him. Crippling curiosity equal to a crippling fear, wishing for the truth and wishing to never having to find out the truth.

-✧-

You had two final weeks of school before Summer and the great excuse of having to finish your essays and projects to hide in the library and not have to talk to the trio that confused you more and more every day.

But still, sometimes Nancy would stop by and study with you. Always helpful, and kind, and nice. You never talked about that night. Sometimes she’d bring Steve with her, and she’d tutor him and they didn’t bother you, and it felt good to have the company.

Sometimes Jonathan would stop by. He’d bring you lunch, he’d bring you books, he’d bring you comfort. The warmth of his presence was addictive, reminding you of late freshman year and the Science project you built together. And you dreaded the day this would all end, he’d forget about you with Nancy Wheeler in his arms, and you’d be nothing but an embarrassing and funny story to maybe tell their grandkids.

You were able to escape them one single day, to retake your final picture for that History collage, the one you used to replace Jonathan’s love portrait. As the class to present the projects came up, you shared a knowing look with him when you noticed he also replaced Nancy’s love portrait on his own collage. A secret between you, him, and little red lamp lights. A secret neither of you talked about. Those were starting to grow.

“How cute that you two have so much in common, you even chose the same format for your projects! I love collages,” one of your colleagues said to you after class was over.

Jonathan was waiting beside your table for you to gather your stuff, and you felt your knees weaken at the way he smiled from the compliment, none of that blush anymore, a pinch of almost confidence. You couldn’t know if you loved it or hated it.

“Mine doesn’t look as good, though,” he answered, pointing at your pictures as if he wasn’t the professional photographer, and you weren’t just someone with a hobby.

“You’re both adorable,” the colleague said before leaving, Jonathan thanked her all nonchalant as if used to it by now.

And you couldn’t come up with any words throughout the whole conversation, your throat constricted with the need to tell her to shut up and tell Jonathan how you felt for him, beg him to let you go. It wasn’t fun anymore.

He didn’t let you scurry away to the library, no more excuses to do so since the History project was the last one, and he held your hand through the hallways, and he held your bag for you, and he sat so close to you at the table bench, while Nancy ranted on about her Spanish essay, that you could feel the heat of his thigh pressed against yours, but his eyes never left Nancy’s as she spoke.

It felt as if there was an elephant at each of your shoulders, and you couldn’t stop staring at him, and he didn’t spare a single glance your way even as his arm was almost glued to yours with the heat and the sweat and the stickiness of early Summer. Your heart tight in your chest, beating fast and loud and strong against your ribcage, as if begging to be let out, to go rest on Jonathan’s hands where it belonged.

-✧-

Summer came, and you stayed home. Not many friends to go out with, not many party invitations in your mailbox, no one else to see on a day-to-day basis except your parents. They asked about Jonathan once, because they saw him picking you up and bringing you back on that double date you had with Nancy and Steve. You said he was probably traveling, that you weren’t so close, you didn’t know, and they knew better not to ask again.

It was August already, a whole long month of Summer break where you’d missed him every day, missed his sweet smile, the way his blush would start by his neck and go up until it reached his cheeks, missed his calm and soothing tone of voice, missed the way he’d smell of pancakes and mint shampoo in the mornings.

Didn’t miss the way he would look at her.

But you missed her too, though. You missed Nancy’s company, and her sweet smile and her calm and soothing tone of voice. You even missed Steve and the way he’d compare everything to a basketball game, and how he high-fived you when Nancy quizzed him on the library and he’d get an answer right. In the weirdest turn of events, they became your friends. And you missed your friends.

Your body seemed to know how your brain thought and your heart ached, because when your father asked you to get groceries, your feet automatically walked further than needed and took you to Melvald’s on Main instead of the market near your house.

And of course he was there.

You knew he’d be there. He told you (and Nancy, and Steve, during that double date) he’d be taking a summer job with his mom, was dreading the tasks already but he could use the money.

He was stocking, standing in the cereal aisle seeming a little confused about where to put the Honeycomb and the Fruit Loops. And that same natural daylight from the outside reached him and made his skin glow, and there were no dirty windows between you two as you reached him without even noticing you had been walking towards him.

“Hey,” you called out, and he turned to you and smiled weirdly wide.

“Hi. Long time no see. How’s your summer?” he asked, putting down the cereal boxes.

You shrugged. “Nothing exciting. How’s Melvald’s treating you?”

“It’s not so hard. Not a big place,” he shrugged as well, and he was still smiling and he was taller than you so the sunlight behind you was hitting his eyes just right and your heart thumped.

“You’ve seen Nancy?” you asked because you liked to suffer, you’ve come to know. “She’s back from Chicago already?”

“Oh, I think she is. Will went to Mike’s yesterday, but I haven’t seen her, no.”

“Don’t you want to?” you pressed, because you weren’t suffering enough, apparently. He shot you a comically puzzled look before shrugging and smiling again.

“I guess? No more than I wanted to see you, though. Or, like, Steve, for that matter,” he answered and you huffed.

“Sure. Anyway, where’s the pasta sauce in here?” you changed the subject and he pointed towards a specific place.

You started walking without saying anything further and, to your surprise, he followed you.

“What, you didn’t miss me back?” he was teasing you, and it would’ve thrilled you just a few months ago how close you got to each other, and you would’ve reveled in any kind of attention he’d paid to you, but you just wanted to scream because it wasn’t fun anymore. It was painful.

You didn’t answer, because you wanted to tell him the truth, and tell him that yeah, you’ve missed him so much it ached, you’ve missed him so much you cried yourself to sleep once, you missed him so much and you couldn’t have him, he wasn’t yours, but you were his even if he didn’t know. Even if his eyes were never focused on you as yours were focused on him.

“C’mon, don’t go breaking my heart,” he teased again and you stopped abruptly right in front of the tomato sauce stand.

“Jonathan, please don’t do this,” you asked, voice wavering, and his smile dropped instantly at the sound of it.

“I’m sorry. What is it?” he asked earnestly, really had no idea, and you didn’t have it in you to be patient enough to spell it out for him.

“How long do we have to keep this up for?” you pleaded, turning to look at him. Your heart ached, your eyes burned, how could he not see it? How could he not see you? “We can just call it off now, yeah? We haven’t seen them yet, don’t even know if Steve’s back already, we can just say it happened over summer when they weren’t here.”

“What are you talking about?” he pushed the knife in deeper, your hands were shaking, you were almost begging for him to look at you, to see right through you so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

“Really, dude?” you asked loudly, saw his mom looking up from a magazine at the cashier counter to look at the two of you. “Our fake relationship thing? That amazing fucking plan of ours? It’s clearly not heading anywhere, Nancy and Steve are still together and she’s actually become my friend so it sucks to be in this position.” You gestured around you as if your mentioned friends would pop out of nowhere to your surprise. You were still loud, and you didn’t care. “Just do as I said that day, grow out some balls, and tell her the truth.”

Rich advice, coming from you.

Do as you say, don’t do as you do, or whatever.

You didn’t wait for an answer and forgot about the fucking sauce, and just started walking towards the store entrance so you could let all of this go and never have to deal with the ‘Jonathan Byers loves Nancy Wheeler and would do anything for her’ fiasco.

Joyce — Jonathan’s fucking mom, for Christ’s sake — called out to you as you stormed out of Melvald’s, you didn’t even know she knew your name, but you didn’t stop anyway. Not until there was a warm hand holding your arm, and you knew that hand by now, all its softness and its calluses, bends and curves and dents, and your heart was already broken but it somehow hurt and bled even more.

“Dude, please!” you begged again, and he was looking at you, searching for something in your eyes and yet he still couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see you.

“I’m sorry, what did I do? What can I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, I think, just leave me alone,” you answered, and he let go of you and he seemed hurt by your words.

You walked back to your house and apologized to your dad for not bringing back his groceries, and he didn’t ask why when he saw your wet eyes. He made you tea, patted you on the head and you cried yourself to sleep again.

-✧-

“A friend of yours is here,” your mom said as you left the shower, three whole days after your (fight? Was it a fight?) encounter with Jonathan. “Waiting in your room,” she said.

It should have confused you, made you wonder. But it didn’t. You knew it was him. Who else would it be?

It was Nancy Wheeler.

Sitting on your bed, and her hair was shorter and her cheeks were a darker shade of pink than they were when you last saw her on the last day of school before Summer break.

“Hi?” you said or asked, and she smiled when she saw you were there.

Got up and walked towards you and hugged you tightly, you missed that hug, and her freshly cut hair smelled of something floral.

She pulled you by your hand until you two were sitting in your bed, side by side.

“I broke up with Steve. Jonathan told me everything,” she said, and your tiny broken heart still had some strength in it to break even further, shockingly.

“Uh, good for you, I guess?” You shrugged, not sure what she wanted you to say. “When’s the wedding?” you clouded your pain with humor because, when didn’t you?

“I just said I broke up with Steve, what wedding?”

“Yours and Jonathan’s?” Why were they so difficult? Oblivious. Why did they enjoy torturing you?

“No, listen,” she called your name as if you weren’t paying attention. “Jonathan told me everything. The whole deal, the whole plan, the whole picture, everything.”

It was a funny déjà-vu. There was a ringing in your ear that kind of popped before the world went abruptly silent. You could see Nancy in front of you, staring at you with a weird misplaced smile, waiting for your answer — what did she want you to answer, honestly? — but she was kind of blurry. It felt like years before you gathered just enough brain power to answer her.

“He. What.”

She giggled, and that made the world go back to normal inside your head, before she rolled her eyes with amusement.

“You two are so dense,” she said, still smiling. “I had to spell it out for him, and I kinda saw it coming, but not from you.”

“Nancy, for the love of all things holy, what are you talking about?” You held her hands in yours, and she looked at your hands held together for a second before looking into your eyes again to talk.

“You’re in love with him,” she answered, and you weren’t surprised that she knew.

“Fucking duh, he’s the only one who can’t see it.” She laughed, and her eyes twinkled.

“And he’s in love with you,” she completed, and it wasn’t funny anymore.

“No, he’s not.”

“You’re the only one who can’t see it,” she threw back at you and you rolled your eyes at her wit — you loved it so much.

“Nancy, he likes you. Literally how we got here in the first place.” You gestured around you as if she could see how miserable you’ve been lately without him, and without your study sessions and your lunches together as a group. “If not to get with him, why did you break up with Steve?” you asked.

“There is… a lot that held us together. Not just Steve and me, but us and Jonathan as well. And I was just using Steve as a crutch, trying to pretend everything was fine and normal, but it isn’t, and it isn’t fair to either of us. And I noticed all that thanks to you being my friend.”

You remembered the date — again — and the way Nancy recoiled to herself at the end of it, and your friends’ collective haunted guilty look, and Will Byers and how he came back, and Barb Holland and how she did not.

“Jonathan came to my house to talk, we got a little lost in the middle of it all but he knocked some sense into me, and I like to think I’ve knocked some sense into him back,” she said, and she was still so calm and collected, but she felt lighter somehow, and she never stopped smiling sweetly at you. “You should go check.”

It was all Nancy Wheeler's fault.

I mean, literally. Quite from the beginning. Because it was all about Nancy Wheeler, wasn't it? It was all because of Nancy Wheeler, it was all for Nancy Wheeler.

She convinced you to go talk to Jonathan, and at this point you trusted her so freely that you did just that. She convinced you to give him a chance, and you convinced yourself you were doing it because she asked you to, you were doing it for her and not for yourself or Jonathan. She was a very persuasive little lady, you’ve come to find out.

The street where the Byers lived was weird as fuck, and the forest surrounding it gave you the worst chills ever, but you kept your calm as you rode your bike all the way to the Byers’ front yard.

You knocked, and Jonathan answered. He seemed surprised to see you, and that blush of his creeped up from his neck to his cheeks and you fell for him again just then.

“Hi,” he said, still staring.

“Hi. Can we talk?” He shook his head, came back to himself, and opened the door to let you in. “Where’s your family?”

“Mom’s still at Melvald’s, Will’s at Mike’s,” he answered, and started going down the hallway, so you followed him.

His room looked, felt and smelled like him and it was both comforting and distressing to be surrounded by Jonathan in all senses. You were still scared of how this conversation would go.

He went digging through some stuff in his desk, and when he found it he walked closer to you where you were still standing awkwardly by the door. He handed you something, a picture.

“You called it ‘Nancy Wheeler love portrait’, that day at the train station park,” he said while you observed again Nancy’s profile in the photo. You had it memorized at this point, burned to the back of your eyelids. “It really was,” he continued and you shot him a puzzled look. “It was a love portrait, it was love I guess.”

He shrugged, and only then you noticed he was holding something behind his back. He moved his hand, brought it forward and you saw that it was another picture but you couldn’t see what it was about. He smiled down adoringly at it before handing it to you.

It was you.

A photo taken of your profile. You were sitting at a desk at the school library, in front of a window, the light from the outside encompassing you in a kind of godly aura, specks of dust flying around you and a big smile on your lips as you looked down at your hands resting on top of the table.

It was so similar. It was the same angle, the same lightning, the same pose. And yet it was so different from the Nancy Wheeler love portrait.

“Your own love portrait,” Jonathan said, voice almost a whisper, and you wanted to look at him and check if he was blushing the way his voice made it seem like he was, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the photo. “Steve and Nancy are out of frame, you were laughing at something he just said, so relaxed and happy around our friends you didn’t even notice me taking the picture like a weirdo.”

He softly touched your hand that was holding the picture, just the tips of his fingers, and they were enough to ignite a spark that made your whole body burn. You stared at that contact of your skins for the very few seconds they lasted before Jonathan pulled his arm back and continued talking.

“I got a little lost in the middle of it all, I think. Forgot there was a plan. Forgot why it all began. Forgot about Nancy, and all I could think about was you. How I wanted to see you again day after day, and hold your hand through the hallways on our way to lunch, and sit beside you at the cafeteria table. And take you on dates without Steve’s stupid comments, just you and me, and you’d laugh at my jokes ‘cause you always do. And to take more pictures of you. Take pictures with you. Just, do stuff together. All the time.

And I was so scared that you’d notice that change in me, notice how far gone for you I was. I didn’t want to spend time apart but I also couldn’t even look at you without wanting to kiss you so bad. I’d be glued to you at all times, hurt from wanting you so much, and yet I couldn’t let you go. Didn’t want to ask you to let me go.”

You finally looked at him and, yes, he was blushing. But he was so determined, so confident. You decided you loved it.

“Me and Nancy, we… got a past. Not even romantic, but, we’ve been through a lot and I’ll tell you all about it, but. I think you’ve always been there, ever since that Science project freshman year, you’ve been there on the sidelines, and when we started talking again because of our stupid plan, I realized how much I’ve missed you. And I didn’t care about the plan anymore, and I didn’t want it to end because I just wanted it to be real.”

It was unbelievable how much you recognized those words, as if you were saying them yourself. You couldn’t help but smile, and Jonathan smiled back at you, and you wanted to kiss his smile senseless.

So you did just that.

You held the pictures far from your bodies, because you didn’t want to damage them, and you threw your other arm around his neck. He hugged your waist close to him and you kissed his smile, and he kissed your smile back. He tasted of pancakes and maple syrup and coffee with cream no sugar, and you feasted on that meal as if it was your last. You let your fingers wander through his hair, and it was soft and it smelled of mint shampoo, and your senses were overwhelmed, surrounded by Jonathan in all senses and it felt like dying and going to heaven.

You kissed for a long time before your lungs ran out of air, and your lips separated but your foreheads were still touching. You handed the pictures back to Jonathan, and he took them with a confused expression. You fished something out of your back pocket, your wallet, and you fished something out of your wallet, a picture. You handed that to him too.

“Jonathan Byers love portrait,” you both said at the same time and laughed together.

You kept your picture of him and he kept your picture of you, and you held onto his face that was still blushing and warm and soft, and he kissed you for a long time. And the plan didn’t work out, not really, but it kinda did, and it was all Nancy Wheeler’s fault.

[xocasper]

Evergreen Ink

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader Summary: Kinktober Day Seven - Kitchen Sex Warnings: NSFW content Tags: oral sex, praise kink, kitchen sex, fluff Word Count: 2827 A/N: Another short one! Don't worry though, bungalow fic is nearly 9k and drops in two days. If you slander this fic, I will be in your walls tonight. She is my baby. Anyway, enjoy!

Touring was one of the most rewarding experiences in the world, especially alongside your brother and best friends. With that being said, it came with endless stress and sleepless nights, weighed down with homesickness, leaving Mikey tired and empty offstage. As much as he loved performing, he yearned to be back home, for some sort of normality in his high-class world. Even then, it was hard to readjust, having to relearn basic habits that he lost during tours, cooped up in the same bus all day, and rarely having the freedom to sleep in or dine regularly. Luckily, he had you by his side to keep him steady, helping him settle back into a normal life after his time on the road.

Grateful was hardly the right word for it, as it struggled to fully encompass how he felt towards you. He was constantly thanking you for being patient with him and dealing with his restlessness despite how annoyed he got with himself. Mikey had only been home for a few days, and he felt like an intruder from the moment he stepped through the door, regardless of your constant reassurance. You’d learned how to live without him–it wasn’t your independence that bothered him, but rather his dependence on you. Although he loved his freedom, he needed an anchor, someone to come home to when the nights grew cold, willing to hold him as the world caved in.

“You’ve done so much already,” you’d told him, smiling pitifully as he tried to think of ways to make himself useful, desperate to do anything after doing everything for the past few weeks. 

Your patience was priceless, Mikey spewing apologies left and right after each effort to get him to settle in, to breathe for once. He didn’t get to relax on tour, and it showed at night when he’d toss and turn, a high-quality mattress foreign to his sore back, waiting all the while for someone to startle him awake and drag him off to an interview. Guilt filled him to the brim, swallowing him whole until he felt trapped and suffocated, resenting his inability to calm down. You were losing sleep and he knew it. No matter how hard you tried to stay still, your breathing was a dead giveaway, Mikey still familiar with the soft and steady pattern despite your time apart.

Through all of his struggles, you stuck by him, keeping him in your warm embrace, pressing delicate kisses to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings until he could shut his brain off. It was the only routine he had developed, unable to sleep unless he could hear you, feel your lips against his skin, soothing invisible scars and insomnia with a feather-light touch. Not once did you complain; when you said your wedding vows, you meant them, fully dedicated and devoted to him no matter the hardships.

“Baby steps,” you’d reminded him, watching with a heavy heart as he grew frustrated at his lack of self-control, beating himself up after reorganizing the kitchen cabinets for the second time this week.

Mikey needed to do something. He needed to feel important, like he was someone outside of his band. Who was he, when he wasn’t being a teen heartthrob, jamming out onstage in new shoes and a discount personality to go with it? A fraud, he’d guessed at first, until spotting you in the corner of the room, and realizing that if nothing else, he was your husband.

By the end of his first week home, the guilt and defeat had melted away, replaced by appreciation instead. Rather than getting upset at himself, he turned it to gratitude, treasuring your care and attentiveness each day. You had a way of making him feel special, and Mikey soon learned just how much you had missed him, whether that was shown through mundane tasks or in the bedroom. Domesticity was vastly different from anything he’d experienced before, despite having a respectable home life. It was a tricky lifestyle to settle into, still jumping up eagerly when you’d ask him to run errands, but he found himself growing more fond of it each day, gradually learning how to live again.

Today, when you asked him to go pick up groceries, he lit up like a Christmas tree and immediately headed off, happy to do something other than space out. It was nice to be around people again; he felt normal, shopping at the supermarket and then heading home to his normal life. Fame had made basic chores fun, and they made Mikey feel like he was good for something other than playing bass. Plus, he was kind of hooked on the sweet kisses you’d give him for helping out.

It was only half-past five, but you had already started prepping for dinner, figuring it would give you something to do until Mikey got home. There wasn’t much you could do, really, other than clean and cut vegetables, having sent him off to retrieve the rest of the ingredients. Still, it kept you busy, humming along to the radio, hushed tunes from the eighties keeping you company.

You heard the key turn, the creak of the front door, and the sound of footsteps padding through the hall, but you never bothered to turn. Graciously, you focused on Soft Cell and slicing produce, letting Mikey bask in the second-hand peace of a picturesque scene.

Peace wasn’t the only thing he felt, but affection, standing in the doorway and watching lovingly as you cooked dinner for him. He must’ve been the luckiest guy in the world to end up here, a soft, subconscious smile stretching across his lips, swelling with pride as you did something ordinary and still managed to turn it into an art. The sway of your hips as you hummed along to Tears for Fears was captivating, Mikey wholeheartedly believing that perfection stood six feet away from him, meal prepping for their husband.

Eventually, he grew tired of standing around, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist instead, his head resting in the crook of your neck. “You’re so perfect,” he said, voice muffled as he pressed kisses to your skin.

“I could say the same about you,” you laughed quietly, leaning into his touch.

He shook his head, “I’m serious! Just… everything about you, you know? You’ve been so great about all of this, and I know it’s been hard on you.”

“That’s because I love you,” you said, making him smile uncontrollably.

He held you closer and planted a final kiss on your cheek, his lips meeting the shell of your ear. “C’mon, let’s dance.”

You barely had time to wipe your hands on the dish towel before Mikey was turning you around, chests and lips meeting for a brief moment before he pulled you away from the cutting board. His hands naturally flew to your waist, and your arms wrapped around his neck in the same fashion, Mikey giving you a cheesy smile as he spun you around the kitchen. It wasn’t long before he was singing melodramatic renditions of the radio tracks, aiming for your picture-perfect smile as he covered Whitney Houston.

“I love you,” he whispered spontaneously, as if it were a ground-breaking secret meant just for you.

You raised your brows in mock surprise, “Do you now?”

Nodding earnestly, he leaned in close, “I do.”

Gravity pushed the two of you together, your lips meeting ceremoniously in a tender kiss. It was the kind that took you back years, to coffee shop dates and movie nights, because he still gave you butterflies like the first time. Mikey’s kisses were something special, each one meaningful, having evolved from the hormonal type that he gifted to partygoers, now reserved only for you. They’re the kisses that you missed dearly for the past few weeks, plush lips that moved so smoothly against your own, still brushing together when you broke apart to breathe.

His hands were never idle, sneaking under your shirt, desperate for contact, desperate to know this was real. Mikey had a rough history with the universe, often wondering if you were a cruel trick, but alas, you were flesh and bone like him, overflowing with love and contentment. His lips were an anesthetic, luring you mindlessly into a state of peace as if the world could crash down around you and the only sound you’d hear was your heart skipping a beat.

No matter how many kisses you'd exchanged since his return, you couldn’t seem to get enough, more than willing to make up for lost time. Besides, they hadn’t been like this, the kind that had you falling in love with him over and over, Mikey silently convincing you that you meant something, everything, to him.

The way his tongue split your lips was so beautifully careful, as if you’d shatter beneath his fingertips with any less caution. He was meticulous with nearly everything, especially when it involved you, not shoving his tongue down your throat like a horny teenager. Rather, gliding and running it along yours, one of his hands rising to cradle your cheek as he deepened the kiss, lost in the irresistible taste of you. After a moment, he pulled away, leaving another slow kiss on your lips before doing so, and resting his forehead against yours.

You were sure you looked dazed, staring up at him as if he’d hung the moon, while he gave you another sly grin and pulled you back in. It was messier this time, the kind of messy caused by desperation, drunk on passion as your lips slotted against his. Despite the mutual fervor, Mikey carried on with delicacy, his hands firm on your waist as he backed into the counter.

“What about dinner?” you asked, hardly having the strength to protest as he sat you on the countertop.

Lowering to his knees, he shushed you gently. “Dinner can wait.”

It didn’t take more than that for you to bend at his will, mesmerized by hazel eyes spiked with serenity, stomach fluttering as you stared down at him. God, he looked so beautiful beneath you, gazing up at you as if you were sent from the heavens, deserving only the finer things and hoping he was enough. A shiver ran through you as he held your gaze, Mikey still having the same effect on you after so many years.

Hooking his fingers around your sweatpants, he stayed focused on your features, savoring your anticipation as he tugged the fabric down. A sharp inhale broke your silence, the marble cold against your thighs, but his hands were the perfect contrast, gentle and warm as he caressed your skin. Everything about him was enthralling, namely the way he spoke to you, his voice smooth as praise rolled easily off his tongue, causing you to stir and shift closer to him.

“Sit back for me,” he requested softly, ceasing your movements. “You’ve been so good to me, I wanna show my appreciation.”

That was perfectly fine by you, nodding as his lips returned to your skin, his kisses trailing up your legs, higher and higher until he heard your breath hitch, tag-teamed by anticipation and arousal. He looked up at you so innocently, eyes wide as he pressed his lips between your thighs, fabric and friction stealing his kisses away.

“You’ve been so patient,” he told you, soothing the incessant ache with open-mouthed kisses, though you were shielded by thin cotton. “And so, so perfect.”

You almost wanted to turn away, shut your eyes or hide your face, Mikey still leaving you flustered after all this time. He wouldn't let you shy away though, persisting until you knew how loved you really were, how much you deserved his soft kisses and tenderness.

His movements were agonizingly slow, every action teasing as his lips lingered on your skin, tasking his hands with tracing illegible shapes on your thighs. For the first time in days, he seemed content, while you got the flip slide, growing restless as he dawdled.

Right as you went to speak, his fingers slipped beneath your waistband, Mikey staring at you doe-eyed as he tugged off your panties, lips ghosting over your skin. His breath made you shiver, one of your hands slipping away from the countertop to card through his hair, pleasantly surprised when he stayed put. With his hands keeping a firm hold under your thighs, he leaned in close, the tip of his tongue trailing up your slit, reveling in the taste of wanton desire. He moved at a leisurely pace, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, tantalizing swirls of his tongue making you grip the countertop a little tighter. Despite being quite an erotic sight, he still found it pure, yet to act on lust as opposed to love. It was sensual, every motion laced with affection. Your reciprocation showed in the way your eyes softened as you watched him, wonderstruck as he lapped at your cunt, flustered by his eye contact and confidence.

Your sweet gasps and moans were music to his ears, gazing up in adoration as he pulled each sound from you, his name never sounding sweeter than when it poured from your lips, cut off by soft cries as his tongue flicked against your clit. He was overcome with insatiable desire, the only clear thought being you–the arousal that coated his lips, the soft moans that filled his ears, and the way you tugged him closer, greedy for more.

Mikey was happy to give into your silent requests, his eyes locked on yours as he retracted one of his hands, popping two fingers in his mouth before gliding them across your skin, spreading your folds with ease. He set you aflame, your whole body burning up under his gaze, and your muscles wound tight as heat pooled in your abdomen. With parted lips and bated breath, you watched as his tongue ran flat, everything turning warm and wet as his lips wrapped around you.

In return, you gave a shaky moan and drew your thighs together, Mikey hooking your legs over his shoulders as he slid closer. Still clinging to the counter for stability, your free hand rested against the back of his head, pulling him impossibly close. The small act of assertion had him reeling, blessed with the knowledge that you wanted him, wanted his touch, to feel his skin against yours until the world blurred and euphoria flooded your veins. You could hardly feel something other than Mikey, the languid strokes of his tongue growing quicker, having evolved from light and teasing. Your hips ground against him, resolve cracking under the weight of his tongue, heavy as it swirled against you.

Through dense air and tunnel vision, you watched him, tracing over his features and memorizing the sight of him. His cheeks were flushed, porcelain skin tinged pink, while his eyes stayed trained on you, his gaze relaxed and easy as he stared back in awe. Saliva and arousal painted his lips, pairing well with your own, slick and bitten as you tried to keep your voice down. His hair laid lopsided across his forehead, messily pushed back as your hand tangled through it, ‘disheveled’ hardly encompassing his appearance.

He was ethereal, effortlessly sending you spiraling, blasphemy bubbling up in your throat as you came, etching the taste of pure desire on his tongue. Much like a bottle of champagne, the ever-building pressure ceased at once, preluding a steady cool-down as the high fizzled out, leaving you in a paradisiacal afterglow. Mikey slowed as well, resorting to gentle kitten licks until he was sure you couldn't take anymore. Finally, he pulled away, already missing you regardless of the kisses he was peppering on your thighs.

Everything felt serene, from the way he slowly rose from his knees to the tender brushes of his hands, retreating to your waist as he kissed you. It was a moment so fragile that you were half-expecting glass shards to pierce your skin, waiting for something minuscule to shatter the exchange, but the pain never came. From an outside perspective, it was nothing more than a kiss between lovers, a mundane observation lacking the tender passion that encircled the two of you.

It all seemed to fall into place, a week of stress soothed by stolen kisses and sweet affirmations, Mikey’s embrace keeping you on cloud nine.

“I love you,” he whispered again, his forehead resting against yours as his eyes looked earnestly into yours.

This time, you didn’t question or tease, unable to deny your everlasting love. “I love you too,” you whispered back, and he knew it was true.

On stage or off, he would always be something, whether it was a rockstar or a civilian, but between both worlds was a blurred line–one with your name scrawled across it in evergreen ink, because no matter when or where, he would always be yours.

kinktober taglist: @clichedlovers  @halloweenbitch2764  @lubbockshusband @cigarettesandalcohol  @couldbegayer1234  @doc-martens-enthusiast @yachiiko @becausethedrugsneverwork @house-of-wh0res @dangerouslittlefairy @chronicallythicc​ @zggystrdst @partypoisonzz

[ghostram]

got this INSANELY pretty veil n im obsessed with her already

[forever-once-gone]

All works belong to me (forever-once-gone). Do NOT edit, rewrite, translate, or repost my work. It’s a scummy thing to do. Don’t be that person.

Disclaimer: This is all fiction and should be taken as such. I do not believe any BTS member would act in the sort of way that I describe in my writing. Nor do I condone any such behaviour. If dark and explicit writing is not your cup of tea, then I would suggest that you do not interact with my work or my blog as some of my writing contains such themes.

Warnings are on each individual post. Please heed them!

If you’d prefer to read on AO3, you can find my works here!

All Tagged: #Ev’s writing (if you just want to scroll through)

Tagged: #Ev’s jin fic

The Lost, the Found, and the Treasured {9k} {Softish!Yandere AU} {Reincarnation AU} {Royalty AU} {Female!Reader}

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere during a terrible storm. Thankfully, you were very close to what seemed to be an abandoned castle.  You enter the large building to find a night’s refuge, but it seems that you find a lot more than you originally bargained for.

Tagged: #Ev’s yoon fic

Love Me and Only Me (M) {7k} {Soft!Yandere AU} {SMUT} {Female!Reader}

Summary: You’re late from work, and that has Yoongi thinking only the worst. Of course you can’t let your incredibly sweet boyfriend thinking all these things. Looks like you just have to prove your love to him in the way that he loves the most.

Tagged: #Ev’s hobi fic

Nothing so far

Tagged: #Ev’s joon fic

Nothing so far

Tagged: #Ev’s chim fic

Killing Me Softly With His Song {1.2k} {Yandere AU} {Idol AU} {Supernatural AU} {Female!Reader}

Summary: You’re at his concert. You’re at his concert, and he’s singing to you. Yes, you. As in you, Y/n. And he wants you, Y/n. Trust me, he wants you. Maybe not, but maybe yes. Maybe. But won’t you just take his hand, Y/n? He’s calling for you, Y/n. Won’t you be his?

Tagged: #Ev’s tae fic

The Trials and Tribulations of Broken Glass and Spilled Liquor {3.1k} {Yandere AU} {GenderNeutral!Reader}

Summary: You ask Taehyung for a divorce following his increasingly worrying behaviour... it does not go well.

Part One | Part Two

Tagged: #Ev’s koo fic

The Wedding {2.3k} {Softish!Yandere AU} {Female!Reader}

Summary: When it comes time to attend your cousin’s wedding, Jungkook makes it his mission to try and keep you in his arms as long as he can.

Tagged: #Ev’s bts poly fic or #Ev’s bts ot7 fic

On the First Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me… {8.9k} {Yandere AU} {Office AU} {Kim Namjoon} {Jeon Jungkook} {GenderNeutral!Reader}

Summary: When your boss, Mr. Kim, asked you to help him pick out some presents for his boyfriend, Mr. Jeon, you thought it was an easy way to make a quick buck on Christmas Eve. Little do you know, there is much more brewing beneath the surface than you could have ever imagined.

A Drabble that I wrote for this couple about how Jungkook dearest first met Namjoon’s assistant!

Again, please don’t plagiarize. It’s a sucky thing to do. Just makes everyone mad at you, so don’t do it.

[key201303]

Word count: 9k

Warnings: mentions of a car accident, mentions of medicines, mentions of hospital and being hospitalized, slight angst in the beginning, brief hints of sex but nothing explicit

Pairing: nonidol!boyfriend!Chani x amnesiac!fem!reader

Genre: slight angst, extra fluff, kind of strangers to lovers

Plot: You always had a perfect life. Good family, amazing scores in all your exams, a perfect group of friends and a perfect boyfriend with who you shared a perfect life and now a perfect little apartment. But everything was too good to be real and the perfection that always described your life was about to tumble down when you and Chani suffer a terrible car accident while going back home after a perfect date for your 3rd anniversary. Now, a month later from that accident and after waking up from a coma, product of the said accident, you'll have to learn how to live with and love again the boy sitting in your hospital room. Will Chani be able to revive all the memories you had together?

Taglist ->@staysstrays

Special thanks to -> @msmadness99 for beta reading this and crying with me over the plot and Chani being all sad 🤧❤ thanxx bro 🙏❤

A/N: I'm so excited for posting this fic and I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did while writing it ❤

A/N 2: The parts written in pink are memories from the past and the ones written in black/white are part of the present day 😉 Enjoy!

4 weeks. That's the amount of time you have been in a coma and the amount of time Chani has sat next to the hospital bed praying to any God that could hear him for you to wake up savely. But before we can start this story, I should make you a reminder of what has happened until now. After all, you've lost your memories and have no idea of what I'm talking about, right?

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It was a beautiful sunny day, one of those you have always loved. The summer breeze Chani always complained about whenever you went to the beach, was smoothly moving the colorful curtains from your bedroom. Chani always hated the excessive colorful pattern the curtain had but he had to admit he couldn't say no to your excitement about buying that specific one. "We're a happy couple with a happy life, we need to express it through our new curtains." You told him to convince him. And he completely fell for your nonsense excuses. But, what was new? He always fell for every single detail about you and your personality, even if it was the most insignificant or the most stupid detail. He just loved you with all his heart and so you did. That was exactly the reason why you two were considered the best couple.

"Good morning snoring beauty." Chani said, making you open one of your eyes, still sleepy. "I don't snore." You complained, turning around to face back your boyfriend who was already sitting on the edge of your shared bed right beside you. "You want me to play the recording I took a few minutes ago?" He said, mocking your cute little snores. You two always had that kind of relationship where you would mock each other just for fun. He would mock your snores and you would mock his nonsense sleep talk and so on.

"Get ready, Youngbin is already waiting for us." He announced, slightly slapping your butt and running away giggling like a kid. You really loved when he acted so childish, like an innocent kid that the only thing he harbored in his heart and soul was love and pure feelings. You wanted to treasure those little moments when you forgot about adult life and you two just acted like kids playing around. With so much love for each other, like there was nothing else to worry about in this world.

Just like Chani said, once you were ready and went down the stairs of your freshly new little apartment, you could see Youngbin's car parking in front of it and already waiting for you two to get out. "Let’s hurry up before he changes his mind." Chani said, grabbing a jacket for later and opening the front door. "Finally, I thought you guys changed your mind about wanting to borrow my car." Youngbin said, getting out of the car and smiling at you. "Never." Chani said, already taking the car keys in his hands. You still couldn't understand the blind trust Youngbin had in your boyfriend about letting you two borrow his car to go on dates but, after all, you never complained and were more than thankful for it. "Have fun and be careful on the road." Youngbin said before you two got in the car and waved goodbye to him.

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"Good night Chani." One of the nurses said, right before checking your vital signs and adding some more medicine and serum to the dropper placed above your head. "Good night…" Chani answered, almost asleep. It was hard for him to keep his eyes open, the skin under his brown eyes were now decorated with dark circles which you would have mocked saying he resembled a cute panda, and the beautiful gleam that you always loved from his eyes has slowly disappeared as days went by. "You can go home and rest a little bit. I promise we'll take good care of her and let you know as soon as she wakes up." The nurse said, looking at him with pitiful eyes. In all her years of nursing, she could tell he was the most loyal family member one of her patients had. He would spend 24h sitting on that chair next to your hospital bed, trying his best to not fall asleep in case you woke up but completely failing from time to time and feeling so guilty for falling asleep and not being all energetic and happy, just like you loved to see him. Just like you were supposed to remember him.

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"Do you like it?" Chani asked, grabbing your hand tightly. "Are you kidding me? I love it!!" You said, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly. For your 3rd anniversary, he has booked a table in an amazing restaurant you have always loved, right beside the sea with an amazing view to the ocean which he always claimed to be your hometown. You've never been the type of girl to like getting nicknames and really cheesy stuff but you had to admit getting the nickname 'mermaid' from Chani because of your unconditional love for the oceans was a detail that made your relationship even better.

"The views are so beautiful." You admitted, admiring the perfect reflection the sun made on the sea and how the few trees that gave you some shadow moved peacefully with the same summer breeze from that morning. "I have more beautiful views." He said, sipping from his drink and staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to cringe at his comment like you always did. And as expected, you shrugged off his cheesy comments as you tried to hide your red cheeks.

"I have one more surprise but I'll give it to you once we arrive home." Chani said, as you two walked down the beach, admiring the beautiful sunset. You were full of curiosity and all you wanted to do was arrive home so you could see that extra surprise he had prepared for you. But destiny is mischievous and it had completely different plans for you two. A challenge to prove your true and perfect love.

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"Good morning! How did you sleep?" The doctor cheerfully asked, entering the room and opening the blinders, waking Chani up from his short snooze. Do I look like I slept well? Chani thought to himself, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Sure…" He said, not wanting to be disrespectful to the doctor responsible for your recovery. "Good! How about you (Y/N)? You okay?" He asked but nobody answered. "Good… Chani, can we talk outside for a moment?" The doctor asked, turning to face your boyfriend who was still sitting on the chair and grabbing your hand, just like he has done for the past 4 weeks. "Can't we talk here? Maybe she wakes up…" Chani said, moving his gaze from the doctor back to your sleeping figure. "She's in a coma but she can still hear us. I wouldn't like her to hear what I have to tell you." The doctor said. His tone turned from a friendly one into a serious one which made Chani's heart squeeze in fear.

Just like the doctor said, Chani stood up from the chair he hadn't left for 4 weeks, placed a soft kiss on your forehead followed by a soft 'I love you' and then headed out of the room followed by the doctor. "Look, I don't want to scare you and maybe we're wrong which I deeply hope but (Y/N)'s state is not as good as we would like it to be." The doctor started. "What do you mean by 'not as good as we would like it to be'?" Chani asked, clear fear reflected on his trembling voice. "She suffered a really difficult trauma on her temporal lobes…" The doctor added, getting ready to give the news to the boy standing in front of him. "What does that mean?" Chani said at the edge of tears. He couldn't stand when something bad happened to you. He wished a thousand times to be the one laying on that hospital bed instead of you. He wished a thousand times to be the one suffering all the damages of the accident instead of you. "She might have lost part of her memory…" The doctor finally said with pitiful eyes. Just like the nurse from last night, the doctor could feel the pain Chani was feeling because of your health condition right now. "Are you telling me she might not remember me once she wakes up…?" Chani asked, completely frozen by the sudden news. "We can't know how much of her memory she has lost until she wakes up." The doctor announced, making Chani feel a little bit more relaxed knowing that there was still hope that you would remember him. "And what will happen to the memories she won't be able to remember?" Chani asked. "The trauma is fortunately not that serious so she might recover 99% of her memory as days go by." The doctor explained. "But I can't tell you how long it will take for her to remember everything." He added, warning the boy about the possibility of you taking a few years to fully recover your memories. "She'll be okay soon, I promise." The doctor said, placing a reassuring hand on Chani's shoulder. That was all Chani hoped, that you would be okay soon.

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Days kept going by as nothing changed. Chani kept sitting on the same chair, you kept resting on the same bed, the same doctors and nurses entered the room a few times in the day to check on you and on Chani. It felt like you and Chani were trapped on time, like days didn’t go by and like time stopped in that hurting moment when Chani had to wake up to see you laying on a hospital bed.

At the moment, Chani has lost the count of the times he has prayed for you to wake up and remember him. He has lost the count of times he has cried because he felt like his prayers weren’t listened to at all, making him lose the slight amount of hope that remained in his heart. He was desperate and he had no idea of what else he could do for you to wake up from that eternal dream and go back into his arms.

“Who should I pray to wake you up?” Chani asked your sleeping figure, eyes already teary and with a trembling thread of voice. “What do I have to do to change places?” He added, feeling how small tears started to run down his soft cheeks. “I’m sorry… You know I don’t like when you see me cry… But actually, I wished you could see me and hug me the way you always did… And stroke my hair and tell me everything will be okay… And then mock the smell of my hair because you never understood why I like using your conditioner…” He started to explain, tears streaming down his face at the memory of that day.

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“It’s not the end of the world babe, it was just an exam.” You said, hugging Chani tightly and stroking his soft hair. Ever since you met him a year and a half ago when you started highschool, he has always let you know how much stroking his hair would relax him. Good thing you remembered that detail the moment you saw him getting out of class with red eyes and tears running down his chubby cheeks. He would have told you everything was fine and would have hid his tears because he never wanted you to see him crying but today he was completely devastated after finding out the score for that specific exam you’ve helped him study for the last 3 weeks. “You helped me for nothing.” He said with so much sadness and frustration reflected on his voice. “It wasn’t for nothing! You’ll get the best score in the next exam I promise.” You said, hugging him even more tight if that was even possible, trying to reassure him the way he deserved. “Did you use the same conditioner as me again?” You said smiling down at him, changing the topic so he would show you his bright smile once again. “You got me.” He said, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I will never understand why you like that conditioner so much.” You said laughing a little, waiting for him to join you. “It smells good.” He said, hiding his face back in the crook of your neck like it was his favorite refuge.

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“I just want you to wake up and remember me… Please…” Chani said, lowering his head to rest it next to your hand. “Please…” He begged once again as the tears stopped streaming down his face little by little and as his eyes started to close as he drifted off to sleep a bit more.

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Your body hurts, it is hard for you to move easily but the feeling of someone grabbing your hand so tightly and protectively somehow makes you feel safe. Your eyes finally start to open after what felt like ages, and the dim sunlight that goes through the room curtains makes you feel a bit dizzy and doesn’t let you see well in the very beginning. You feel weird, like if some part of you doesn’t exist anymore, like if you had a huge emptiness in your being.

Slowly, you started to get used to the small font of light that illuminated the weird room you found yourself in. Once your eyes were able to see a bit more clearly, you noticed a boy sitting next to the bed you rested on, with his head resting on the edge of the bed and grabbing your hand. “Who are you?” You asked with a thread of voice, waking the boy up. “Babe!” He said in surprise, standing up immediately and embracing you in his arms. Do I know him? Why is he hugging me like we have known each other since forever? And why did he call me babe? You started to ask yourself. “Do I know you?” You asked the boy. His face changed completely from a happy one to a sad one the moment you asked him if you knew him. “I’m Chani… Your boyfriend…” The boy said with sad eyes, already at the edge of tears once again. You could tell he has been crying in the last few hours just by looking at his red and puffy eyes. “I have never had a boyfriend…” You answered, trying to move away from him slightly scared of his words. You didn’t know who he was and you didn’t understand why he would say he was your boyfriend when you have never had a boyfriend. Of course you had crushes while you were in school but you never had a serious boyfriend.

“I see you finally woke up.” A man with a white medical gown said, entering the small room. “Why am I in a hospital? How much have I been here?” You said, getting more and more nervous as seconds went by and you had no idea of what was going on and you were in a room with complete strangers. “Calm down. Everything is going to be okay. Do you know who you are?” The man with the white gown asked you. “Of course I know who I am. I’m (Y/N) Choi.” You answered, not really understanding why a doctor would ask you if you knew who you were. “And how old are you?” The doctor asked. “I’m 17.” You answered, convinced about your answer being right. You saw the boy that claimed to be your boyfriend sitting back in the chair next to your bed, bringing his hands to his face in complete disbelief. “What year is it today?” The doctor kept asking. “It’s 2017, isn’t it?” You said, already doubting your answers being right. “Okay… Chani, can we talk for a moment? You’ll be okay, don’t worry. Another doctor is going to come and check on you so we can determine when you can go back home.” The doctor said, leading the boy out of the room and giving you a soft smile.

“You met her 4 years ago, right?” The doctor asked. “Yeah… we met when we started highschool.” Chani answered with his eyes glued to the floor and trying so hard to hold back his tears. He couldn’t believe you didn’t remember him. He couldn’t believe you didn’t remember all the things you have done together. He couldn’t believe you forgot all the love you both shared. “Don’t worry too much. She will recover her memories soon and you’ll be able to go back to the life you had before the accident but you’ll have to work slowly with a psychologist to help her recover her memory.” The doctor said, reassuring Chani. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring her back.” Chani said determined. He couldn’t admit you were gone that easily and he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

A young girl left your room which Chani assumed was the psychologist that would determine when you can go back home. “You should explain to her who you are and bring her home. Right now you are the only one her old self would recognise and it would be good if you were the one explaining everything to her. Also, if you can, try recreating the moments you lived during these four years, that might help her recover her memory a bit faster.” The girl said before leaving to prepare the documents you needed to go back home.

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“Ready to go home?” The doctor asked you. You just shyly nodded, not wanting to be too honest and hurt Chani’s feelings. After he explained everything, the only thing you could do was accept going to your apparently shared apartment with him and act like nothing happened when he was a complete stranger to you. “Don’t worry, I won’t force any situation.” Chani whispered to you, making you feel slightly relieved.

You had to admit even though you didn’t remember the boy walking next to you as you exited the hospital, you felt kind of sad about him. After all, you also tried to wear his shoes and think you would be also sad if the roles were the opposite. “That always characterized you.” Chani suddenly said with a small smile appearing on his lips. You looked at him with a confused look, not really knowing what he meant and not really believing he could actually read your mind. “Being so empathic. Getting in others' shoes and understanding their point of view. You have always been like that.” Chani said with a proud and nostalgic smile. He really knew you well and he has just demonstrated it.

“Can you tell me more about these four years?” You asked him, curious about the past four years of your life with him. “Sure! What do you want to know?” Chani asked, his eyes finally filling up with the gleam you used to love. “I don’t really know.” You said, slightly awkward, not really knowing what to ask him. It was weird asking a third person about your life but, after all, he was the only one who could tell you about your life. “Well, if you want I can tell you how we met.” He said, smiling down at you. “Sounds great.” You said, smiling back at him. Somehow, after walking back home with him for a little while made you feel comfortable with him.

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“My friend says you look cute.” A curly brown haired boy said right after approaching you, pointing at a boy behind him who was red like a tomato probably in embarrassment about his friend’s behaviour. You could only laugh at the sudden confession and talk with the boy in front of you. “And why did he send you instead of telling me personally?” You said, loud enough for the boy behind the curly haired boy to hear your words. “He’s too shy, do you like shy boys?? Because if you do, he's perfect for you.” The curly haired boy said. “Dawon!! Stop it already!!” A blond haired boy said, removing the curly haired boy from in front of you. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just messing around. I’m Jaeyoon.” The blond haired boy said. You have to admit those 9 boys were actually really funny and the orange haired boy that was supposed to think you were cute was actually pretty handsome and cute as well. “Guys stop, Chani should be the one talking with her.” A black haired boy that seemed to be the oldest said, defending the orange haired boy who was trying so hard to hide his face from you. You could tell embarrassment was eating him alive and he regretted so much doing that comment about you in front of his friends. “Well, then let him talk with me.” You said laughing at the oldest’s statement.”I’m (Y/N).” You added with a huge smile plastered on your face and extended your hand waiting for Chani to stretch his hand with yours. “I’m Chani…” He shyly said taking your hand in his and smiling as well.

His eyes gleamed with a beautiful light the moment he finally met your gaze and his cute cheeks lifted up in a really cute way when he smiled at you. You could tell you definitely fell for him the first time he smiled at you, like a shot from cupid.

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“And who are those boys?” You were confused when Chani mentioned your friends. “They are my friends and after that day they became your friends as well. You used to love hanging around with them even though they were sometimes a pain in the ass.” Chani said laughing and making you laugh as well. “We have changed a lot in these years though so you will meet completely different boys.” Chani said, slightly sad that you couldn’t remember for now those amazing days the 10 of you shared before you two started dating. “Which I think is better. I mean, Dawon is not as loud as he was back then and Rowoon has gotten less annoying.” He added, joking and making you laugh a bit more.

You really enjoyed the walk you had with him going back home and as soon as you arrived home, your mood went back down. As you entered the small apartment you felt like you were in a stranger’s house, you didn’t feel like you were home and that hurt you and Chani. You scanned the rooms, trying your best to remember even if it was an insignificant detail about the pics hanging on the walls but it was impossible. It felt like watching strangers' photos even though your face was in there. “I will go to sleep at Youngbin's house for now, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own house.” Chani said, packing a few things he needed to get ready and leave. “You can stay if you want, I would feel so bad if you had to go out of our house just because of me.” You said with pitiful eyes. It was true you would feel uncomfortable sleeping beside someone you considered a stranger but you would also feel bad if Chani had to go to another house just because of you. “It’s okay, I promised I would do whatever it took to make you feel good and comfortable until you recovered your memories. When you feel ready, I’ll come back when you feel you’re not living with a stranger.” Chani said with a sad smile appearing in his lips. It was hard for him to leave you all alone in your apartment but if that made you feel better and if that helped you to recover your memory, he would do that and anything else.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow? We can go to some places we used to go.” Chani asked you before leaving. “Sure, that sounds great.” You said smiling at him. “Great, I’ll text you in the morning then.” Chani said, opening the front door. “Can you also text me when you arrive at Youngbin's house?” You shyly asked. “Sure.” Chani said with a huge smile plastered on his face. Even though he was now a stranger, you also knew you shared a life with him and still worried about him a little bit. Maybe it was that you felt attracted to him because some things never change or that your subconscious still remembered him.

About 30 minutes passed when you received a message from who you guessed was Chani. “I arrived safely, don’t worry. Sleep well and remember tomorrow we have a meeting 😉 If you need anything you can text me even if it’s late at night.” You read the message and a small smile appeared on your face.

“So she doesn’t remember anything?” Youngbin asked with sad eyes. You always had a really beautiful friendship with all of them but Youngbin was a bit more special. He was your confident, the person you would always go to whenever you had a problem. He was even the first one to know you were in love with Chani and the one that convinced Chani to ask you out. “Yeah… She has forgotten everything about us… But doctors say she might recover her memory at some point.” Chani explained, admiring his lockscreen. It was a pic you both took the day of the accident. You always loved taking aesthetic couple pics and since it was so sunny you wanted to take a pic of your shadows reflected on the floor. “Hey, don’t be sad. At least she is okay.” Youngbin said, trying to cheer up his friend. “Yeah but what if she doesn’t fall in love with me again?” Chani said worried. “Come on, you both loved each other with all your hearts, she will fall for you again.” Youngbin said. “How can you be so sure?” Chani asked in disbelief. “Because you are going to recreate all your dates. You are going to win back her heart like you did 3 years ago.” Youngbin said. Chani didn’t think about it but somehow Youngbin’s idea wasn't that bad.

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The dim sunlight entering through the colorful curtains from your room, the soft sound you missed from some birds chirping next to your window waking you up like in those old days of summer. You had to admit you missed listening to the birds early in the morning, like when you were younger and lived with your parents.

The night was weird. You felt like a 17 years old teenager trapped inside the body of a 20 year old girl, spending the night all alone in that apartment. For some reason, your mind kept thinking about Chani. How did he spend the night, if he had slept well, where did he planned to take you. Tons of questions involving him clouded your mind as you prepared yourself for the meeting you promised you would have today with him. You didn't even understand why you worried so much about him when you didn't remember about his existence a few hours ago.

You were now ready waiting for the boy to pick you up and take you wherever he had planned. As you waited sitting on the couch, a photo placed next to the TV caught your attention. The photo captured a moment you guessed was one of those dates you and Chani had before the accident. You both looked so happy, so in love.

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"Why don't you want to take a pic???" You complained as Chani complained as well. Chani was never the kind of boy to take too many pics, for him it was useless to capture moments with a camera. It was more useful to capture moments with your own mind. "Just one, please." You begged, giving him the best puppy eyes you could make. "Fine." He finally gave in, rolling his eyes and pulling you close, already ready for the photo. "It never fails." You said laughing and taking the picture. You were right, giving him puppy eyes would fail if it was anyone else but when it was you he just couldn't resist your cuteness.

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You stared at the photo, trying to remember something but it was impossible. It felt like the field that had those memories had been locked and didn't work.

You moved your eyes to another photo in which you found yourself surrounded by people. The only one you could recognize was Chani and the rest of the boys were completely strangers. You noticed you were wearing a school uniform so you guessed the rest of the boys were part of your class. Little did you know how important the rest of the boys were once to you.

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"If you stand in the middle it will look funnier!" Dawon said, grabbing your hand and placing you in the middle. "But why do I have to be in the middle??" You complained, looking up at the boys. "Because you're the shortest and it'll look cute." Rowoon said, patting your head. You had to admit it would definitely look cute and ridiculous if you stood in the middle of them. You all always joked a lot with your heights because being best friends with literal trees when you were a tiny flower was always funny. "Chani, get next to your girl." Rowoon demanded, leaving some space for the boy next to you. "I don't want to be in the middle either." He complained, standing next to you. "Guys stop complaining and just take the pic. It's not like our favorite couple graduates everyday." Inseong said, gathering everyone around his arms like the dad he always claimed to be even though you all said he was more like a mom. "Ready?" Taeyang asked, grabbing the selfie stick ready to shoot the photo. "Cheese!!" You all screamed with one voice.

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A soft knock on your door knocked you out of your hard task of remembering something about the moment reflected on the photo. As soon as you opened the door, a smiley and radiant Chani appeared, widening a bit more his smile the moment his gaze landed on you. "Good morning! Did you sleep well?" He said cheerfully. His smile radiated happiness and it was as bright as the sun. You could tell, even though you couldn't remember, that was one of the details that made you fall in love with him 4 years ago when you met in high school and you weren't that wrong. "Yeah I slept well, how about you?" You asked, mirroring his wide smile, curiosity eating you up for knowing how he spent the night and answering all the questions that have been clouding your mind ever since you woke up. "I slept well too. Ready to go?" He answered, shyly looking away from your gaze and slowly reaching his hand out waiting for you to take it. "Sure." You answered, mirroring his shyness and taking his hand in yours. You thought you would remember something by holding his hand, like those scenes in romantic movies, but unfortunately nothing happened.

"Where are we going?" You asked curious. "Our high school." He said, keeping his eyes forward, too scared of looking at you and receiving a reject look. But instead of rejecting his offer of going back to the place you boht met, you felt just as excited as he felt to revive those memories. "You said we met there, right?" You asked, trying to figure out the reason why he would take you to the same place you met. "Exactly." He said finally looking down at you as a small smile slowly appeared in his lips. He felt relieved that you accepted his offer and he perfectly knew it was a big step to continue with his plan of reviving all your important dates in order to help you recover your memory. "I would have wanted to bring the rest of the boys and do it the same way we did the day we met but I knew you would have felt too overwhelmed." He explained, already letting you know it wouldn't be the same way you both met. "Are they the boys in the photos we have at home?" You asked, finding some coherent in what you were saying. The way you referred to the apartment you were living in as 'our home' made Chani's heart skip a beat, knowing there was still hope that you would fall for him once again the same way you did 4 years ago. "Yeah, we took that photo when we graduated. They kept being all annoying about us getting in the middle because we were their favorite couple and they thought you would look cute being in the middle of us." He said with a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. You could tell he missed those times just by the way he looked at you while telling you that little story. "They were so tall." You said laughing, remembering how tall they all looked in the pic. "And they still are, trust me." Chani said, laughing as well.

A long 30 minutes went by when you finally arrived at the entrance of what used to be your high school. "Welcome back to high school." Chani said, pointing at the huge building. You had to admit you were mesmerized by it but unfortunately no memories were unlocked. You saw through the corner of your eye Chani positioning himself next to you, looking straight forward into your mesmerized figure and holding his hand out. "I'm Chani, nice to meet you." He said with the same bright smile he wore when he picked you up from home an hour ago. You could finally understand what he was trying to do and you couldn’t help feeling extremely flattered by his actions. You couldn't help feeling grateful to him for doing such things to try and help you recover your memory. "I'm (Y/N)." You said with watery eyes and stretching his hand. "Don't tell me you're going to cry! We can't do that! If we cry you will remember our first meeting like something bad!" Chani complained, mocking you the way he used to do and, once again, it didn't fail to put a smile on your face.

You didn't know if you would recover your memories but you had to be really grateful to that boy called Youngbin for having such a great idea. Even if you couldn't recover it, you would make similar memories with the boy you were supposed to love and, fortunately, you will be able to live a normal life even though those four years were completely lost somewhere inside your brain.

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Days went by and before you could notice, weeks were gone and soon they turned into your first month being the new you. Little by little, Chani grew more and more close to you, making him feel almost the same way he felt before the accident took place and, even though you still didn't remember anything, you were able to recreate those lost memories.

Tonight, you found yourself getting ready for a small surprise Chani has prepared for you. You had no idea of what it could be and you couldn't help feeling slightly nervous as you tried to tie the necklace he told you he gave you on your first official date. Maybe it was destiny, the one making you wear that necklace tonight for the surprise he prepared for you.

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The night was extremely beautiful. If it weren't because of the bright lights of the busy streets of the city, you were convinced that you could see the stars perfectly, like if they formed a beautiful ocean of blinking little lights. You didn't even know why but it made you remember one specific scene from the Lion King when Simba, Timon and Pumba talked about what they thought the stars were. You couldn't help smiling at that little stupid memory of one of your favorite movies.

A knock on the door of your room knocked you out of that memory. "Honey, Chani is here." Your mom said with a small smile. Chani told you a few hours ago to go with him somewhere he had planned once his first day of college was over and you couldn’t resist his offer. Through the year you have known him, little by little you have fallen in love with him and all you wanted to do was be near him and spend time with him. It didn't matter if it was hours or just 5 minutes.

Not wanting to make him wait any longer, you grab your small bag and run down the little stairs of the house, full of excitement to see the boy that has been the main reason for your daily smiles. "Ready to go?" He asked, holding his hand out and waiting for you to take it, a slight pink tone appearing on his face as soon as your hand came in contact with his. "Don't come back too late." Your mom said from the kitchen. "I promise!" You answered before exiting the house and closing the door right behind you.

"I tried my best to convince the boys to let us alone but you know how annoying they can be." Chani said, pointing at the group of boys waiting in front of your house that you immediately recognized as your group of friends. "You look great baby!" Dawon said, a bit too loud for what you would have liked to admit but definitely drawing a huge smile on your face. They were annoying, yes. They never let you spend some alone time with the boy of your dreams, yes. But they were the best friends someone could ever ask for and you were so sure that if it wasn't because of them you would have never grown so close to the boy holding your hand. "Ready to go to an amazing place?" Chani whispered into your ear, not wanting the rest of the boys to know where he was taking you. "Yes? But where are we going?" You said, confused. "You'll find out when we arrive." He said in a playful tone, winking at you and making your heart skip a beat. This kid is going to be the death of me. You thought to yourself as a small laugh left your lips.

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"I swear to God if you don't shut up I'm going to kill you." You heard Chani's voice from outside. The moment you heard those words you couldn't help laughing, knowing he came with the company of his and your friends. Even though you didn't remember them, after listening to all the stories Chani has told you through the entire month and after the very first meeting you had a few days ago, you could finally understand why you used to have so much fun back in those days.

After a few seconds of silence, you heard a soft knock on the door. More than a soft knock, a shy knock. A knock you wouldn't have listened to if it wasn't because you were sitting on the sofa. You hurriedly went to open the door, impatient to see what was the surprise he had prepared. "Hey!" You cheerfully said, greeting the boy and the rest of his friends. "Hey." Chani said, shyly looking away from your fierce gaze full of energy. "You look great baby!" Dawon said full of excitement, getting a nudge right after from Chani. "Not yet, idiot." Chani said under his breath. Everything seemed so weird and you couldn't really understand what was going on. "Ready to go?" Chani said, holding his hand out waiting for you to take it. Just like he did 3 years ago.

After walking for a little while and laughing at your friends' jokes, you felt Chani getting closer to you. "Ready to go to an amazing place?" He whispered in your ear, trying his best to wake up the memories from that night. "Yes? But where are we going?" You innocently said, looking around and trying to find any hint that could reveal what was your special destination. "Cute… there really are things that never change." Chani said letting out a soft giggle as he passed his arm around your shoulder the same way he used to do when you went to high school.

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"You guys are staying here." Chani announced once you arrived at a random building. "No way we're waiting here, it's cold." Youngbin complained. "Then you should have stayed home the way I told you to do. Bye." Chani said with a fake smile and dragging you inside the building and closing the door right after you entered. "Finally alone." He tiredly sighed, making you laugh.

He could finally reveal the surprise he prepared for you. "I know how much you wanted to have a stargazing so here we are." He said, opening a metal door that led to the rooftop of the big building. Just like you imagined an hour ago while you waited for him at home, thanks to the lack of light you had on the rooftop you could perfectly see the stars dancing in the beautiful dark blue from the night sky. "It's so beautiful… Thank you." You said, mesmerized, walking towards the little tent he prepared with some blankets so you two could watch the night sky comfortably.

His eyes were gleaming in a different way tonight. Like if his dark orbs were a beautiful mirror that held the power of the stars hanging on the sky. "Aren't you getting Lion King vibes?" He suddenly said, laughing at his own joke. "Can you read my mind?" You said, laughing as well. You were always so amazed by how many things you two had in common. Like you were born to fit each other and nobody else. "Then, what would you say the stars are? Ancestors? Gas balls burning billions of miles away?" Chani asked, looking down at you and making you remember the scene of the movie once again. "You know? I think they are more like memory holders. Like if you could save beautiful memories on them and whenever you look at the sky you can see those memories again. And memories are like the stars after all… They're always there even if you can't see them." You said, moving your gaze from his beautiful eyes back to the sky above your heads. "What about you?" You asked, curious about his answer. "You." He suddenly said. "Me?" You asked confused, letting out a small laugh. "My star is you." He finally confessed. Finally, everything made sense and you could finally join the puzzle pieces. All those questions he has been asking you about you dating someone. All those questions he asked about your perfect first date. All those times he asked you if you were in love with someone. All of that finally made sense.

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"Ready to go up?" Chani asked you, holding your hand to reassure you that you would be okay. "Aren't they coming?" You asked, pointing at the rest of the boys. "If you want them to come they can come but they will ruin the moment." Chani said with a nervous laugh, praying for you to tell him you wanted to go up to the rooftop alone with him. "Okay then, let's go." You said, entering the building.

When you arrived, you saw a beautiful blanket of stars decorating the night sky and you could finally understand what was going on. Chani has told you about your first official date and how he asked you out and you could tell today was the day of recreating your first day as a couple. "Remember anything?" Chani asked, knocking you out of your own little world. His eyes were full of hope that turned into sadness as soon as you told him that you couldn't remember anything but that you were still grateful that he took you there and that he was working so hard to help you recover your memory.

"Ironic, you're wearing the necklace I gave you that day… Maybe you were right back then and stars really are memory holders." He joked, looking at the sky. You tried to remove your gaze from him but it was impossible. It was like you got trapped in his eyes. He held so much love, so much passion for you in them and you couldn’t help feeling a burning feeling in your chest tonight. A burning feeling you have never felt or, at least, you didn't remember you ever felt.

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Time went by and you had to admit that the little time you spent alone with Chani on that rooftop felt so refreshing even though it didn't work out the way he thought it would. "I'll walk you home, it's late. Youngbin, I'll go as soon as she gets home." Chani said, not letting you go alone. "There's no need… If you want… You can stay home." You shyly said, looking away from his gaze knowing your face would turn into a tomato if you had to meet his eyes after saying that. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." He said. His voice reflected worry and happiness at the same time and it was hard for you to decipher if he was happy or if he didn't want to stay with you. "It's okay, after all, it's your home as well." You said with a small smile, finally meeting his eyes and feeling that burning feeling once again.

The walk back home was refreshing as well and even though Chani has told you he was happy that you let him come back home, you still saw his sad eyes. Once you arrived, you told him to get himself at home while you took a warm shower before you two could eat dinner.

He missed his bed, he missed his house, he missed his room and, most importantly, he missed you. Suddenly, the light of his phone lit up, signaling an incoming call from Youngbin. "Yo what the hell is wrong with you?? Why do you look all sad?? She told you to go back home with her!!" Youngbin shouted against the phone speaker, making Chani put his phone away in order to protect his eardrums. "Can you stop? This is hard for me, okay?" Chani said, defending himself. Suddenly, completely out of the blue, he started to feel a bit overwhelmed by the fact that you don't remember anything. He started to feel like all he had been doing was for nothing and all he wanted to do was to give up and just accept that you will never recover your memory. "Youngbin, I have tried everything the doctor's said. I have done everything exactly the same way things used to be back then and nothing has worked. It has been a month and she still treats me like I'm just a friend and all I can do is stand there acting like I was doing fine. It hurts me, okay? I love her so damn much and I can't stand seeing her not loving me back. Youngbin I'm so fucking afraid of not bringing her back. If she doesn't love me in the end… I don't know what the hell I will do." Chani finally blurted out all the feelings he has been keeping for himself for the last month. He could finally show his tears to others and not only to the reflection of his own self in the mirror after taking a shower. Finally he could stop lying to his friend about his red eyes being because of some champoo getting on them instead of telling him it was because he has been crying. He could finally let all of that pain out.

"Why didn't you say anything…?" You said from the door frame. Hearing his words really hurt you and seeing him crying broke your heart. "I gotta go, Youngbin… I'll text you tomorrow, good night." Chani said, letting a small sob out as he hung the phone up. You slowly walked towards the edge of the bed where he was sitting and sat next to him. As soon as you sat, your hands went straight to his so you could hold them tightly. "Why did you keep acting like everything was right?" You asked drawing soft patrons on the back of his hand, looking at his crying figure while his eyes kept glued to your fingers that were intertwined with his, too scared of looking at you. He hated letting you see him in such a bad condition but he couldn't help it anymore. "I love you too much to let you go (Y/N)..." He whispered with a trembling voice. "If you leave… I really don't know what I will do…" He said, still looking away from you. "Look at me." You said, placing one of your hands on one of his cheeks and turning his face so he could finally look at you, while your other hand still held his. "I don't like it when you see me crying, I look all ugly." He said, slightly laughing and covering his eyes. "Don't say that, you're as handsome as always, idiot." You said, removing his hand from his face so you could admire the features you have always loved. Even now. "I love you too Chani, you don't have nothing to worry about. Just like you said, there are things that never change." You said, small tears of happiness forming in the corner of your eyes as you caressed the boy's cheek and looked into his eyes ever so fondly. "Are you sure?" He asked, now unable to remove his eyes from yours, getting trapped in them the same way you did when you were on the rooftop. "I have never been so sure. I guess there are souls that are meant to be together forever, doesn't matter what." You said, pressing your forehead with his and right after, finally closing the gap that separated your lips for the last month.

It was a soft and gentle kiss but full of the love you had for each other. You swear it was the best kiss you have ever had and Chani completely agreed with you. He couldn't tell if it was because of how much he loved you or because of the amount of time it has been since the last time he tasted your soft lips, or maybe it was a mix of both reasons, but he couldn't help melting into your lips. And soon, things got heated up, just like the day of your first official first date.

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It was a beautiful sunny day, one of those you have always loved. The summer breeze Chani always complained about whenever you went to the beach, was smoothly moving the colorful curtains from your bedroom. Wait… doesn't this sound kind of familiar?

You woke up and as soon as you opened your eyes you met Chani's figure still sleeping. So peaceful, the same way he always slept… The same way he always slept. "Chani! Chani, wake up!!" You said, shaking him full of happiness. "What, what's wrong?" Chani said, getting up scared, believing something bad happened to you. "I remember!!" You said jumping from the bed and running down the stairs. "Wait, you what?" Chani said, sleepy and confused, following you around the small apartment. "I remember you and everything about us and Youngbin and Dawon and Rowoon and everyone!!" You said excited, holding the photo from your graduation day, the one he had to explain a month ago. "I even remember the accident." You said, looking at him with fearful eyes for remembering that terrible moment. "And do you remember what I said before the accident?" Chani asked, hoping you remembered his words.

FLASHBACK

"The views are so beautiful." You admitted, admiring the perfect reflection the sun made on the sea and how the few trees that gave you some shadow moved peacefully with the same summer breeze from that morning. "I have more beautiful views." He said, sipping from his drink and staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to cringe at his comment like you always did. And as expected, you shrugged off his cheesy comments as you tried to hide your red cheeks.

"I have one more surprise but I'll give it to you once we arrive home." Chani said, as you two walked down the beach, admiring the beautiful sunset. You were full of curiosity and all you wanted to do was arrive home so you could see that extra surprise he had prepared for you.

END OF FLASHBACK

"The surprise!!" You excitedly said, jumping into his arms full of joy. And finally, the true bright smile you missed from him finally appeared plastered on his face as he searched for the surprise he had prepared for your 3rd anniversary but that he could never give you. "Happy anniversary, my love." He said handing you a small box. You had to admit you missed hearing him calling you cute couple nicknames and he also had to admit that he missed so much calling you them. As soon as you opened the box, you found a ring matching a pair of earrings with a small star on them. Engraved on the ring, there was the date you started dating and inside the box there was a little note that said: "You will always be my star. Love you, Chani."

Tears started to stream down your face and your chest felt heavy due to the happiness you were feeling. After all, stars did hold your memories and once again, both of you proved to the world and destiny that the love you both shared was always true love and that nothing on earth could separate you. Not even losing all your memories.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Thank You For Your Service II (M)

Pairing: Jimin x royal!reader

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 9k

(A/N): Do not fear, there will be a part 3!

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

In the main dining room of your palace sits a group of five, plates laid out neatly before you as the servants begin to clear out of the space. Your father, the King, is seated at the head of the table, looking over his guests with a blank face, analyzing to make sure everything is to everyone’s liking. It’s silent for a few moments, air tense until everyone takes the first bites of their food, the clatter of metal against fine china echoing throughout the room.

“This is a lovely meal your servants have prepared, Your Majesty.” Jimin’s father speaks up, not afraid to eat to his heart’s content even in front of royalty, despite his rather reserved personality.

“Dinner aside, this entire palace is simply astounding! Whomever decorated it must have had incredible taste.” The small woman across from you isn’t timid in the slightest, eyes sparkling as she looks around the room for what feels like the 50th time since you were seated at the table. Your father had insisted on following your kingdom’s long-standing tradition of becoming acquainted with your future in-laws through a week of gatherings and special activities, the last being a family dinner the day before and the day following the wedding. And you’re happy to report that everything has gone smoothly so far. Though they are also nobles, Jimin’s parents are nowhere near as wealthy as they should be with their status— you heard that Jimin’s grandfather gambled away most of his riches in his final months, leaving close to nothing for his 2 children, but you’d never confirmed the full story. Regardless, they live in a nice home in the countryside with just enough to be comfortable, and that seemed to be enough for them. Jimin does not live with them, he resides on a lower level of the palace to serve as immediate protection from any threats and to quickly carry out orders from the King that would be inconvenient if it were not for his close quarters. But despite living here for many years, he has never once invited his parents to visit. And although their son is a soon-to-be King, his parents appear to be completely awestruck by the other royals that they’ve encountered, you included.

“Yes, well, my wife had it redecorated when I took the throne. I believe she thought everything was ‘too dull’ for this to be a proper palace. She may have been correct.” Looking around, the King sighs heavily and finally picks up his fork, having been broken from his pensive state. His sigh is not out of sadness, however, but of longing. Longing for days passed when your mother would glide through the halls with you in her arms, nit picking and straightening all of her decor, teaching you about color schemes and what makes artwork good because “one day you will be queen and then it will be up to you to decorate your home to your liking.” If only she could see you now, sitting next to your love on the eve of your wedding, where you will truly become a Queen and take his place as your kingdom’s leader.

“I believe we would have gotten along quite well,” Jimin’s mother smiles at you with rosy cheeks, catching your eyes. “You both raised an incredible young woman. We would have had much to talk about.” Slightly embarrassed, you break eye contact, dipping your head to take another bite of food. Your father holds conversation easily, the three of them bonding well, and you look over to your fiancé to see his reaction, only to find him stuffing his cheeks like a pig. He must have inherited that behavior from his father, whose stretchy cheeks shine in the well lit room while his crescent shaped eyes convey his joy.

Feeling your eyes on him, Jimin turns to you sheepishly, patting the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief and chewing a bit more slowly. “My love,” You whisper, left hand dropping to his thigh. He tenses, eyes flickering up to your parents who pay no mind to the two of you. “I can hardly eat, I am so excited for tomorrow.” You smile, heart fluttering when his features soften.

“You must eat, My Queen. You will need all of your strength if you intend to make it to tomorrow night.” You know that he means that tomorrow will be a long day for the both of you, having to be on your feet greeting guests all day and accepting gifts, addressing your countrymen; but all you can think about is the night you’ll spend with him as the first part of your honeymoon. Your first night as a married couple. Certainly you will need all of your strength to survive the passionate nights that lie ahead, even if he didn’t mean it that way.

“I do not know if I can.” You tease, tilting your head to the side cutely, pouting your lips in the way that makes him want to kiss you until he’s drunk off your taste.

“Must I hand-feed you? Would you be able to eat then?” He plays along, picking up a generous forkful of food from his plate and taunting you with it. You grin coyly, mumbling a response, and your parents look on as he feeds you a large mouthful right from his own fork, the two of you giggling like teenagers when you can barely close your lips around all of it.

“I am so happy to see how truly in love they are.” His mother swoons, cooing at you in a reminiscent fashion. “You do not know how wonderful it feels to watch your child fall in love.” You and Jimin blush at her words, straightening up again to uphold appearances, even though there is no one here except for the five of you. Jimin begins a conversation that is much less centered around you or your upcoming wedding, and dinner passes by incredibly quickly, desserts being brought out just as the tiredness of the night hits you, but you think you’re too wound up to fall asleep. The King escorts Jimin’s parents to another parlor where they’ll probably be served drinks, but you’re too focused on pulling your lover away to a more private place to talk.

You know the schedules of your servants very well— know where they’ll be and when, how long they stay in each room, even where they go to take breaks and gossip— so it isn’t hard for you to determine a place where you’ll be alone. You avoid passing rooms that contain the prying eyes of your underlings, hiding away from their whispers of how they just knew that something was sparking between you two before the wedding announcement was made 3 weeks ago. Windows displaying the colorful sky still lit with the remnants of the sun greet you at every other turn, the lighting getting lower with every step you take, peeking your head around the corners and scurrying past doorways.

“You do know we do not need to sneak around together any longer, correct?” Jimin chides, one eyebrow raised, your hand soft in his as you pull him along.

“I’m aware.” Ascending a narrow stairwell, you giggle when he stumbles and squeezes a little harder, grumbling about how the first thing he’ll do as King is finance repairs to this rickety old castle.

“Where are you taking me?” He whines, feeling as if you were simply fooling with him and you would just end up back where you started.

“You will see, my love. We are almost there.” Turning into a long corridor, you tiptoe past an open door where a stream of light spills from the doorframe. Hoping to go unnoticed, you creep slowly, but the moment you are at the center of the opening, the servant inside turns and sees you. He stands at a sink, a pile of dishes next to him and suds covering him up to his elbows.

“Ah! Good evening, Your Highness.”

“Evening, Jinwoo.” Your smile tightens when he wipes his hands on his apron and steps closer, preparing for a conversation.

“What brings you to this side of the palace? I thought you were entertaining guests?” He muses, not yet noticing the hand clasped in yours, but when he does, his face hardens just the slightest bit. The man bows when Jimin steps into the lighted doorway, showing respect to the General who nods in acknowledgment. “I see,” He states, taking a step back to his station and grabbing another dish, jaw muscle twitching unnoticeably. “Well, have a lovely night, My Queen.”

Jimin’s eyes squint a little at the term of endearment, but immediately he’s being pulled down the hall, your walking pace picking up as you near your destination. You hear a crash of plates, but neither of you dwell on it for long as you hurry around the corner.

Through a heavy pair of doors lies a room lost in time, stacked with shelves of dusty books and family treasures locked away in chests. It looks like nothing in the room has been touched for decades apart from one of the reading chairs found on the far end of the library, seated before a window that overlooks the colorful pedals of the back garden, you and Jimin’s favorite flowers planted in celebration of your upcoming union.

“Where are we?” Jimin is clearly in awe, eyes roaming to every inch of the room he has a feeling he’s not supposed to know about.

“Welcome to the Secret Library.” You gesture, stepping into the waning beams of light slithering through the grand archway that separates the reading area. “It is my favorite place to be in the entire world— aside from being in your arms, of course.” You add with a flutter of your eyelashes when Jimin rolls his eyes at your coyness.

“What exactly is this place?” He asks after taking a lap around the sizable space, taking in the dated decor and deteriorating items that litter the shelves neatly. It seems as though even the servants have forgotten about this place.

“It’s practically a relic now, but this was once a very important room. It is said that this was the first room to be completed in the original design of the palace, so it holds a lot of history; although, now it is only home to outdated political law books and criminal records from when the dungeons were still being put to use.” You look completely at ease as you run your fingers along the familiar wood of a table, eyeing your fiancé for his reaction to all of this.

“How did you find it? I am certain that this room is out of the way of any normal path a princess or queen would take on any occasion.” Having lived here all your life, it would make sense that you know the ins and outs of your home, but from the looks of it, nobody has been in this room for years, except for you.

“Adventures of a stubborn, young girl.” You chuckle. “My mother found me standing outside of it one morning. I wanted to hide from her because I had no interest in going to my etiquette classes, so I set out to look for a place no one would find me— and I figured this would be perfect since I had never even heard of such a place in my years of living here— but I could not open the heavy doors. Instead of pulling me away and scolding me, my mother helped me open the doors and we spent the rest of the morning in here. She told me about its history and what all of the books contained, showed me a few family relics. After that, this place became my little paradise. It is the only truly peaceful part of the palace, where no one can see you, where no one bothers you, it is a place that has always been mine.” You turn to him when Jimin steps up beside you, both of you now standing in front of the wide viewing window and watching as gardeners tend to your flowers even as the last bits of light disappear beyond the tree line.

“Does anyone else know of this place?” He asks quietly, as if he were afraid to break the calm silence that has fallen between you two.

“None that are living. Just you and I.”

“I am beyond flattered that you would take me here, but I would think that you would desire to keep at least one thing to yourself. Especially since this room holds so much significance.” He seems sheepish when he says this, not making eye contact with you and keeping his gaze fixed on the landscape ahead.

“My love, when will you stop doubting your worthiness?” You wrap your arms around his muscular torso, his arms circling your hips out of habit. “What is mine, is yours. I do not want to go into this marriage with any secrets, even one as trivial as this. I wish to share everything important to me with you because you are the most important person in my life.” Your heartfelt words make his heart clench and he has to pull away from you for fear of tearing up in front of you. But you can tell already and simply smile.

Lighting a lantern with a nearby match, he makes a comment about it getting dark soon to change the subject. He then walks over to the used chair, taking a seat and glancing at the one adjacent, noting how they are identical in every aspect except for the heavy coat of dust cloaking it. “That seat looks neglected.” He points out, expecting you to sit in it, but instead, you ease yourself into his lap a moment after he gets comfortable.

“Well, this seat has the better view.” Angled just slightly differently than it’s twin, Jimin can’t tell the difference, apart from the fact that you can catch a glimpse of the cherry orchard to the right of the flower gardens. “I have to say, though, this seat feels a lot more comfortable tonight than it has in the past.” Grinding your hips back, you slide higher up his crotch, feeling his legs tense beneath you when you brush against his length. Jimin’s hands fall to your thighs, fingers squeezing at your flesh in warning. Leaning back into him, your eyes fall closed when his lips find your neck, kissing over your pulse point tantalizingly.

“My Queen, do not tempt me.” He whispers into your heating skin, tone mirroring the rapidly darkening sky. “We have lasted the entire week without intimacy, we can survive just one more day.” You sigh, remembering your agreement. A week without sex is what you proposed; you would display patience and restraint for one another until the day of your wedding. The entire kingdom expects you to be a virgin anyway, why cause suspicion now when all eyes are focused on the two of you? That would certainly be an unsatisfactory image. No one can see you up here, two stories off the ground, but you will hold each other accountable because it is only for one more night after all.

“Our agreement entails that we do not have intercourse, but it says nothing about touching.” Shifting your hips back just slightly is enough to make Jimin hiss, a week’s worth of tension causing him to harden despite his best efforts to remain calm. Your attire is formal, yet thin enough for you to feel the bulge growing under you and the hands that crawl up your midsection toward your chest.

“This feels like a trick, to see if I am strong enough to resist you.” He whispers, breath hitching when you arch into his palms.

“I assure you, it is not.” His fingers squeeze at the flesh of your breasts, appreciative of the fact that you rarely wear bras or corsets on occasions where you are not required to leave these walls. He can feel your stiff nipples poking through the material of your summer gown, the garment sticking to your skin from the dewy humidity of the palace. He wishes to take it off of you, but then he would for sure lose all self-control and ravish you right then and there.

“Either way, I do not think I can keep my word if this goes too far.” You’re hardly listening, sucking in gasps when his fingers twist at your peaks, his hips miraculously motionless beneath you.

“What happened to being a General who must possess great restraint and self-control at all times? Is that not what you said to me when you refused me your seed just 3 weeks ago?”

“Do you write down every word that I speak? I do not recall, although it is true.” He chuckles, hands gliding back down your waist until they stop at your upper thighs, beginning to bundle up your dress until he can slip under it easily. “However, my limits are embarrassingly low when it comes to you. I can rarely deny you of anything.”

“I s-see.” With his fingers climbing steadily up your inner thighs to play with the hem of your panties, you can’t hide your excitement. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s touched you. Yes, you’ve gone weeks without touching him when he travels to secure borders and fight battles for your protection, but usually you’d be so worried about his safety that your sex drive would diminish almost completely until he returned— then you would have hot, passionate sex to show your relief that he’s come back healthy and alive. That is different, though, because you wouldn’t see him during the week he was gone, and therefore only had thoughts to keep you occupied. Now, you have the real person with you at almost all hours of the day, dressing in kingly attire for your week of family tradition and public appearances, and your desire for him is unbearable. Especially now that you’re alone with him in a place that no one will be able to interrupt you.

Jimin skims his fingers along the edge of your silky panties, teasing you with both actions and words. “But you seem to be worse than me. Look at how impatient you’ve grown, my darling. Are you already wet?” Finally, one of his fingers traces along your slit, pressing gently just to feel how the fabric sticks to your core where a wet patch has already developed. He’s teasing you about being wound up, but you can feel how he twitches when he feels your arousal. He clicks his tongue at you. “So messy already, I’ll bet you were horny throughout the entire dinner, weren’t you?” Prompted to speak, you lick your dry lips and attempt to find your voice.

“I have been tense with anticipation for our honeymoon, my love. I cannot stop thinking about it.” You whimper, wiggling your hips in hopes that his fingers would brush against your clit, but he just continues to rub over the wet spot aimlessly.

“Oh? Are you truly that excited for it?” You nod, pressing yourself back onto him so that you can feel his entire front on your back, his face resting in the crook of your neck. “If only your kingdom knew what thoughts ran through the mind of their delicate Queen. Tell me, what exactly do you imagine us doing once we are wed?”

“...Promise you will not judge me,” You plead in a hesitant voice, heart rate spiking up at the thought of letting your inner fantasies be known.

“You have my word.” He’s curious now, mind rushing with thoughts of what you could possibly say next.

“I often daydream of you b-bounding my hands...” The stutter in your voice makes you lose confidence and you press your eyes shut when Jimin’s hand pauses its movements.

“To the bed frame?” Your nod causes him to take in a sharp breath, fingers continuing their up and down stroking against your core. “And what do I do once your hands are bound?”

“You tease me with kisses all over my body, never giving me what I crave most, until I can no longer resist and beg you to touch me...” Your voice gets shaky when he throbs beneath you, humming for you to keep going. “Then you spread my legs wide and eat me until I quake.” Just the words alone are enough to make you gush, his finger dampening from the amount of liquid seeping through your panties.

“Hmm, and do you want me to touch your clit now?” He muses, kissing your neck slowly. Your confirmation comes in a polite whisper and his hand immediately moves to cup your sex, palm putting pressure on the bud, but not quite what you expected. “I will, under one condition.” You pause to turn your head his way, a submissive glint sparkling in your eyes and he swears internally. “Your hips, they must be still at all times. I will not make it if you rub yourself against me any longer.” The dominance slips from his voice a little, genuine desperation peeking through, and you feel your walls throb at the thought of him cumming in his pants while touching you or giving in completely to sink himself fully inside your warmth. Either option sounds amazing right about now, but you agree wholeheartedly because you don’t want him to stop before it’s even started.

“I will try,” You waver, “For you.” He bites his lips when you bat your eyelashes at him, settling yourself in his lap and showing that you will be a good girl for him. Though not naturally submissive, he can bring it out of you in an instant. His fingers skim up and down your lower lips, squeezing your clit between them, and you almost move your hips into the feeling before catching yourself and forcing them still. Jimin takes his middle finger and presses it to the nub, noting how it swallows at the contact before he starts to rub in slow circles, spreading the juices he gathered from the soiled silk to create another dark spot. The sensation sends pleasure tingling through your toes, your back arching before Jimin hums dangerously behind you in warning.

As soon as you’re back to your original position, he pulls your panties tight against you, the fabric trapping your clit roughly with pressure and you moan, unable to see the smirk on your lover’s face. “Be as loud as you wish, My Queen, I’ve longed to hear that sweet voice of yours.” He whispers hotly against your ear, finally pushing the garment down your legs to hook at your knees, pulled tight in their stitching from your efforts to spread your legs for him. His fingers are cool in comparison to your heated skin, dancing over the hood of your nerves before dipping their tips into the pool of your entrance and returning with a generous amount of your shiny glaze. The first few touches are teasingly light, ghosts that test your obedience when the urge to buck into him builds inside you. But you resist and are immediately rewarded with steady circles that send chills up your spine. You always love how Jimin’s fingers feel on you, whether they’re inside, roaming, or pinching, but this has to be your favorite use of them, and they’re so much better than your own. He knows exactly how you like to be touched, moving slowly around the bud until your breathing becomes labored, then switching to faster flicks that has heat building in your gut.

“Jimin,” You groan when it becomes harder to keep still, your head tilting back onto his shoulder. He chuckles, tongue tracing from the base of your neck to the sensitive spot behind your ear, stopping to nibble your lobe along the way. The urge to mark your skin is there, but he has to remind himself that your skin must remain flawless for your wedding day, so he settles for peppering ticklish kisses to the spots he knows drives you crazy. You’re soaking now, slick nearly dribbling onto his trousers before he slides back down to collect it and spread it back up your core.

“Does it feel good, Love?” Jimin ponders against your ear, his own eyes shut to focus in on the sound of your heavy breaths and moans. He feels the need to feel more of you in that moment, left hand making its way to your breasts to palm the supple flesh as it heaves up and down.

“I’m close,” You whisper, sweat beads crawling down your temples and between your cleavage because of your high body temperatures that can no longer be blamed on the summer heat.

“Is that a yes?” You nod, shivering when his teeth skim your veins as if he were going to suck marks there when you least expect it. His length is now straining against its material under your ass, solid as a rock and hot as cast iron, begging for friction that he explicitly asked you to deny him. But your walls throb in time with it, calling out for each other and pleading for him to lose control just once and fill you with his thick cock and fuck you until your legs go numb. You know he won’t, he’s too disciplined to break an agreement on the last day, but you aren’t nearly as strong as him, and it feels like you won’t be able to cum unless he’s filling you up in one way or another.

“Please, I need-“ Cut off by your own moan, you swallow thickly, your panties creating marks around you knees from where they are stretched so tightly. Jimin seems to know what you mean already, however, and slides his hand away from your chest to touch at your entrance. “I feel so empty, please.” Your eyes open and immediately lock with his in your reflection in the window. Darkness having engulfed the outside world, you can now see yourself clearly on the glass due to the flickering candle behind you, and what you see steals your breath. You sit perched on Jimin’s lap with your back arched and legs spread, both of his hands occupied at your core as he still works diligently against your clit. His eyes are glued to your figure in the glass and his lips part to let out steamy puffs in a desperate attempt to keep himself from getting too worked up, although you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s contemplating risking it all just to have you bouncing on top of him right now.

Your legs shut on his hands a little, causing your panties to fall the rest of the way down your legs, a wave of shyness running through you from seeing yourself like this for the first time. You look so docile begging for him like this that it’s no wonder why your beloved takes such pleasure in dominating you in the bedroom. It looks like you’d do anything for him. And you would. And it’s exactly this type of compromising position that you fantasize about being in, giving up all of your power and doing exactly what you’re told as he has his way with you, having your hands tied figuratively and literally.

“Do not try to hide yourself, My Queen, I want you to see exactly how I touch you.” Opening your legs wider this time without the restrictions of your underwear, you regain confidence and forget about everything else but the pleasure. Jimin waits until you look back down at your core before pushing in two of his chubby fingers, groaning along with you when he feels how warm and tight you are around him. Oh, how he wishes you were around his cock instead.

“Fuck,” You gasp, clenching as he works his fingers in deeper until his knuckles are snug against your lips. His fingers curl when he gives you a few thrusts, stilling when he feels you get tighter.

“Be still, my love.” He chides when your hips twitch into him. Your clit is pulsing against his fingertips in time with your heartbeat, a telltale sign that you’re close, and Jimin wants nothing more than to feel you cum while his fingers are inside you. Moaning louder, you can no longer keep your eyes open and throw your head back onto his shoulder again, one leg bending to perch on the edge of the seat so he has better access to your dripping cunt, your juices running down his hand the closer you get to your high. You imagine it’s his cock stuffed in your cavern, so wet that it slides in and out effortlessly with a squelch every time his hips snap up to meet yours, rubbing all of your spots with its ridges and veins. Curses tumble from your mouth as you feel yourself reaching the breaking point, Jimin struggling to keep a steady pace against you, forcing his fingers not to speed up as he imagines you clinging to his shaft with your dripping walls, your pussy sucking him in and gripping hard to keep him there as you orgasm. He thinks, then, how lucky his fingers are to be inside you, feeling your tightness and incessant clenching, soaked in your arousal, and he can’t help but lift his hips slightly to relieve some of the pressure in his groin, but that only makes it worse because the friction is addictive and now he can’t seem to stop grinding up into you, his own ragged breaths joining yours.

“Please don’t stop,” You whine, the coil in your abdomen beginning to unravel when you notice his movement, and a brief moment later you’re falling into a long orgasm, his slow fingers dragging you out to sea like the pull of a tidal wave. The deep groan that sounds next to your ear pulls you in deeper, snatching your breath as you continue to contract around Jimin’s digits. Suddenly, his fingers on your clit become too much, the light touches wracking your body with harsh jolts, but he doesn’t stop until you begin to whine loudly and grip at his wrist. It is then that you realize that he isn’t really paying attention, his eyes closed and lips pressed to your shoulder to stop the sounds bubbling from his throat. He must be oh so close to his release, if the sweat gliding down the sides of his face is anything to go by, and you feel a bit selfish for having cum without him, even though it was upon his request. “My love, you do not have to suffer silently.”

“Hm?” He questions, eyes drifting open for a brief moment before squeezing shut again at the swivel of your hips.

“I want you to taste the same bliss I have. You have been so stressed these few days, please do not deny yourself relief.” You grind slow into his lap, your left over wetness making a noticeable splotch on his dress pants when his fingers vacate from their place between your thighs, and he reaches forward to hold firmly to your waist with his wet digits. You half expect him to stop you, to push you away with some dull excuse of not needing your help tonight, promising that he is fine and pretending he isn’t about to explode from the pressure in his balls. But he’s too far gone by this point and you’re satisfied with the way he bucks into your ass, panting against your skin jaggedly.

You focus on pressing down hard on him, digging into his muscular thighs for support when his grinding nearly throws you off of him. “Fuck, I wish I could be inside of you.” He mumbles, humping faster until his breaths turn into small moans and you have to support yourself on his thighs. “I cannot wait until we are wed— I can f-finally love you without worry,”

“And you can finally release within me and make me take your seed, as well.” You grin, knowing how eagerly he has awaited impregnating you. Thinking about it now sets his body aflame. The guttural groans he lets out when he releases makes your walls flutter, the pain in your sides from his fingers unnoticeable compared to the sense of pride that swells in your chest at your achievement. He quakes a little as you ride him out gently, his teeth skimming your shoulder again but never biting down. You relax against his chest, turning to capture his lips that you quickly realize are swollen from where he’s been biting them instead of you. The heat between your bodies subsides as you kiss, sweaty clothes sticking to you like a second layer of skin, and it’s somewhat uncomfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away just yet.

When you do find the strength to release his lips, you grin and rest your head in the crook of his neck. “How do you feel, my love?” His body seems completely at ease, arms wrapped around you securely.

“Embarrassed. Guilty.” He drawls, hand running up and down your arm as you giggle. “But satisfied.” He smiles. “Thank you, My Queen.”

“Why are you guilty? We did not have intercourse, and technically I did not even touch you, so we have not broken any rules. Besides, what kind of fiancé would I be if I left my bethrothed in discomfort on the eve of our wedding?” The adorably innocent eyes you give him makes him melt, and all Jimin wants in this moment is to keep you to himself locked away in this room, away from the world and from any harm, safe and sound.

He has this gut feeling, or maybe it’s just nervous jitters, but he doesn’t want to leave this room. Everything is perfect, quiet except for your breathing, dim except for a single candle, and he feels as though he won’t get the chance to have moments like this with you after tomorrow. He’ll be a king, taking on responsibilities he tells himself he’s prepared for, and you will be at his side the entire time offering love and support, but he wonders if he’ll even have enough time for you when everything is said and done. It’s probably ridiculous for him to think this way, he knows this— there are plenty of royal couples that live happily ever after, especially the ones who married for love— yet his worries still consume him. Will he be able to protect you as both a king and a military leader? What if he can’t juggle his responsibilities and ends up starting a war accidentally just because he didn’t know how to write a proper letter or peace treaty and now your life and the lives of your countrymen are endangered?

You feel him tense again and look up into his eyes, watching them waiver and sparkle as he looks back at you. No words need to be exchanged for you to know what he’s thinking, you just simply reach up and comb your hands through his hair and kiss away all of the creases on his face, smoothing them out with every delicate touch of your lips.

“Careful with those hot irons!” Lilian barks at the young girl fixing your hair, her eyes sharp as she oversees your preparations. You’re ready half an hour early due to her diligence yet you’re still stressed, reminding her every once in a while that she doesn’t need to bite off everyone’s heads in order for things to be completed properly. “You are correct, Your highness, but it is not every day that our beloved queen is getting married! But I will try to be more patient.” She smiles and nods, immediately going back to hissing at another maid that has carelessly placed your flower bouquet on a nearby table.

You can feel everyone’s tension as they rush around to make sure everything is perfect for you, touching up your makeup and fixing and inspecting your dress for the thousandth time. You haven’t seen Jimin yet today, but you get the feeling that he’s nervous and stressed out too, probably ruining his hairstyle from the amount of times he’s run his hands through it. The thought makes you smile. He seemed really emotional last night and you can’t stop thinking about his words, how he vowed to protect you always and be there whenever and wherever you needed him. You have never seen him that clingy before, insisting on carrying you across the palace to your room and holding you so tightly upon his departure, repeating how much he loves you and begging to hear you say it back to him. You think deep down he’s afraid you’ll be a runaway bride or something of the sort, so you assured him that that would be ridiculous about a hundred times before he finally left for his quarters last night. You can only imagine the look of relief on his face once he sees you walking down the aisle.

The door to your dressing room opens, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you turn to find Jimin’s mother walking in gingerly as if she were interrupting something. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She smiles sheepishly, bowing to everyone in the room before Lilian forces them to leave so you two could have some privacy. When his mother sees you, her face lights up in the exact same way Jimin’s does whenever you dress up, and your heart melts. “You are so beautiful!” She gushes, sauntering over to where you stand to greet her, kissing both her cheeks fondly.

“Thank you,” Is all you can say, noting how her eyes are examining your dress with fascination.

“Wow, you are absolutely gorgeous.” She says softer this time, and when she looks back up at your eyes, hers are sparkling with wetness. “I remember my wedding. Jimin’s father was so nervous that I could see him shaking from the moment I stepped into the aisle.”

“I hope Jimin is not so nervous,” You bite down on your lip. “I wish I could be with him right now.”

“Do not worry, Your Majesty. I recently saw him and he looks very composed. You and I both know that his pride will not let him show any weakness in front of his people. Appearances are everything to that boy.” You both laugh lightheartedly. It’s true, you know, but a part of you would love to see him get tearful at the altar. She looks at you again, head to toe, and you watch her face morph into something a bit sadder. “My mother wasn’t at my wedding. She did not approve of my husband— she wanted me to marry a wealthy nobleman since my father had left us with nothing, but I said yes to someone who could not even cover our debts. The woman stayed home and sent her regards through a cousin.”

You both look away from each other, your eyes falling to your feet as hers land somewhere on your dress. There is a beat of silence before she continues.

“But it has always been my dream to see my daughter get married, to see her in a beautiful dress and watch as she is joined with the man that she loves. But then I had a son.” She sneers playfully. “In all honesty, I did not expect that he would end up with someone as amazing as you. Someone more beautiful than all the other maidens in the land. A woman so sweet and beloved by everyone she meets. A queen who holds herself to a standard and lives by it. I could not be prouder of the fact that you are the woman that has chosen to love my son— it feels like a triumph for me as a parent. And I am aware that your mother is not here to see you today, but I just know that she is watching from the skies, probably crying tears of joy at how perfect her daughter looks on her wedding day. I want you to know that you are my daughter now, and that I embrace you with open arms. I will do my best to care for you and offer any advice that you may need from a mother, and I will protect you to the best of my ability— even though Jimin has probably vowed to do the same. What I am trying to say is that I am honored to be your new mother-in-law and I will love you as if you sprung from my own womb.”

The short woman embraces you tightly when she finishes her speech, careful not to disturb your gown, and you don’t quite know what to say to her. She is so genuine in her words and actions that you have no choice but to believe her, and it almost feels as if you were with your own mother again. You pull away from the long hug to fan at your eyes, batting away the tears that threaten to ruin the makeup your servants worked so hard to perfect. Your mother-in-law reaches onto the vanity for some tissue, patting the underside of your eyes as gently as possible and checking your face to make sure she hasn’t ruined anything, making a joke about Lilian murdering her if she were to mess up your appearance.

“Oh, there is one last thing. Speaking of wombs, I expect from you a bundle of lovely grandchildren to call my own, preferably within the next year. Though, I am certain the two of you have already planned to work on that little detail as soon as possible.” You blink at her words, feeling your face redden.

“Y-Yes ma’am, I will be sure to bear heirs quickly.” You do not add onto your words, trying hard not to cringe at the implications of you admitting to wanting to procreate with her son possibly at the end of this night.

“I will hold you to those words.” She beams, dropping the subject to allow you to recover. “Are you ready, my dear?” She asks once you’ve collected yourself once again. The butterflies in your stomach explode when you look at the clock, the time of your marriage approaching ever closer.

“Of course.” You grin.

The ceremony goes without a hitch from the moment the grand doors open to reveal you in your dress. As expected, nearly the entire kingdom has shown up to watch your union, all the nobles gathered in the vast hall and everyone else awaiting outside your gates to be a part of the monumental occasion. Your father watches from his throne, posture unmovable and stoic the entire time, but you can see the twinkle in his eye once it’s official that you and Jimin are now husband and wife. Your mother’s throne sits next to your father’s in its usual spot, her crown resting on the cushion, and it feels as if she were here, smiling softly and squeezing your father’s hand when emotion threatens to overcome him. You both feel her presence and it is a comfort to you as you and Jimin complete the coronation process, ending with your father crowning your heads and relinquishing his title as King and sovereign ruler of the land.

Just like his mother had predicted, Jimin was composed throughout the entire ceremony— but one thing he could not hide was his smile. He looked absolutely enchanted from the moment you began walking down the aisle, and that look never left his face the entire day, becoming contagious to you every time you looked at him— which was difficult considering you never took your eyes off him to begin with. It felt like your cheeks would get stuck like that, but you didn’t mind one bit. His parents were not as stiff as him, however, because the few times you had glanced their way you found both sobbing tears of joy into their handkerchiefs.

It is a little past midday when you begin the reception for your guests, standing in the doorway of the Grand Hall to welcome the multitudes of nobles before taking your own seats at the center of the long table. Conversations flow easily over the floor of live music your father arranged, masking the rummaging of your servants who bustle about to prepare for the large feast you cannot wait for. A corner full of gifts occupies you first and Lilian silently hands you and Jimin the boxes and bags one at a time, each one seeming more extravagant than the last.

“Maybe so, but there could not possibly be a better gift than the one just received...”

“Certainly not...”

“I’ve absolutely been outdone...”

“Hush, there is still more to come..”

Close relatives and family friends squabble about the fine gifts you’ve come to acquire, everyone fawning over a rug made from the skin of some exotic animal you’ve never seen before. It probably won’t have much of a place in your castle once you decorate, though; you’ve never been a fan of dead animals.

“This? Better than 3 of the finest show horses? Hogwash!” Your aunt scoffs, proud of her wealth and the fact that she could afford to give away three of her best horses without much hassle.

“Well, ‘twas far more expensive.” Someone shrugs in the background as Jimin hands you one of the heavier boxes from the corner himself, ignoring Lilian’s grumbles.

“Indeed, but wait until she opens my present! It shall be surpassed by none!” A man by the name of Seokjin proclaims. He’s come by the castle often, originally to ask your hand in marriage, then to sell you and the King various goods his family has acquired through their trade business after you flatly rejected him. He’s now become a good friend of yours— and a funny one at that— and you have no doubt that his gift will be just as flamboyant and outrageous as his lifestyle.

“We will see about that,” You turn your nose up to him. “I still favor the ring.” On your dominant hand sits a giant ring made of the most brilliant gems in the nation. Though not nearly as expensive or precious as the wedding ring that’s been passed down by generations of royalty, it is colorful and bright and you can’t stop staring at it.

“Not for long, Your Majesty.” Seokjin flaunts, narrowing his eyes playfully at you.

You inspect your hand once more, captivated by the glistening jewelry, but soon your gaze is averted to your husband as he takes your hand and squeezes it in his own, rubbing his thumb over yours and playing with the ring. He’s said few words to anyone other than you the whole day, his focus solely on you in your dress, and you get the feeling that he’s thinking some inappropriate thoughts inside that royal head of his. Aside from that, it also seems that he is on “guard dog” mode because he keeps shooting suspicious looks at anyone that gets too close to you, but you pass that off as him being protective of his new Queen.

In actuality, Jimin is still just as nervous as he was last night. He’s come to the realization that it is not just the anxiety of becoming a King that he is feeling, but a foreboding gut feeling that he is all too familiar with. It is the same feeling he gets when he is on the battlefield before anyone knows it is a battlefield, with an enemy waiting in the shadows for an ambush attack. He doesn’t know why, but something feels off in this room, or maybe it is just too happy, and it is killing him that he can’t quite figure out what it is.

“Seokjin!” You gasp in shock, face bloodshot red and fuming, but there’s a smile on your cheeks as you try to hide the racy garment he packed sneakily underneath the framed painting he commissioned just for you.

“This is a wedding gift, after all. I wanted to make sure our Queen was well prepared for what comes after the festivities are over.” He shrugs, ignoring the looks your older attendees are bombarding him with. You try to avoid the gazes of your father and Jimin’s parents, all of their faces probably just as red as yours as you turn to bury your face in your husband’s collar. “I will accept my thanks later, Your Highness.” He winks at Jimin, who is occupying himself with organizing everything back into the box and out of sight so they can move forward from this embarrassment.

Shortly after the crowded corner has been cleared of unopened novelties, the feast is set out on the tables, everyone taking their seats to dig into the finest meal you’ve ever seen. Your stomach growls loudly once your plate his been piled high with all of your favorites, and you don’t even bother with etiquette when you begin to dig in— not that anyone is paying attention to you anymore. Jimin has lightened up a bit after confirming that none of the presents you have received are dangerous, and you can feel him opening up after the first couple of bites of food. He tells a story to your table about things he’s experienced while traveling the nations in the military, impressing all of your richest subjects and earning the favor of the room shortly thereafter. Servants scurry around during his stories, clearing plates and refilling drinks and you have never seen your castle move so efficiently. You will have to compliment them on that later. There is one servant who is especially attentive, however, and it seems as if he is always right there before you even know you need something from him.

Jimin makes eye contact with him several times throughout the meal, the man ducking his head each time but never averting his eyes like the others, and he would have found that strange if not for the animated way he was speaking, captivating the entire room like a true leader in his natural element. You sit there staring at Jimin with hearts in your eyes, latched onto his arm and absolutely in love, sure that your life could not get any better, and the room erupts into coos when Jimin looks at you the same way, the two of you breaking out into adorable giggles of joy. Towards the end of the meal, you become more clingy with the promise of this public event coming to an end. You were looking forward to leaving the spotlight and finally getting a moment to let this sink in, to bask in the fact that you are now married to the love of your life, and to spend your first night as a married woman wrapped in his arms and around his body.

“I cannot eat another bite.” Your father-in-law comments, but his eyes go wide when dessert is served along with glasses of champagne. His wife shakes her head at him and clicks her tongue, watching him reach for his fork again.

“You certainly inherited his appetite.” You laugh when Jimin does the same, digging in to the pie slice placed before him. Your attendant comes back with your glasses of bubbly liquid and places one in front of each of you meticulously, and the former King decides now is the perfect time to have a toast, speaking words from his heart that make you tear up a bit. Neither you or Jimin drink right away, putting your glasses down to share a short kiss that swoons the room, and no one notices the lingering servant who stares with blazing eyes from his place off to the side. There is a cold breeze from an open window that cools the sweltering room a bit, the chill making you shiver, but it is welcomed as you sweat in the layers of your white gown.

“Your Highnesses, you have not touched your champagne.” A noble points out, noting that the toast wouldn’t be official unless you drink to the King’s words.

You reach for your glass first, suggesting that Jimin lift his own. “Let us drink together,” You smile, waiting for him to reach forward, and there are eyes on the back of his head as he does so. But suddenly you snatch the champagne from him a moment before his fingers can close around its neck and swap the glasses, holding out your own to him instead with a playful twinkle in your eye. “May we drink from the other’s glass as a symbol of our union.” Once he takes your glass, there is not a moment’s hesitation before the rim is to your lips and you are swallowing the bubbly drink. You only take two small sips before pulling it away from your lips, wincing at the burn in your throat.

Everyone laughs at the face you make, knowing your reputation for not liking to drink much, but Jimin is the only one who teases you about it. “It is sweet, is it not? Then why do you look so bitter?” He laughs, eyeing the embarrassed blush that overcomes your face, not seeing the man behind him that stands with wide eyes and a tight lip— the only one in the room not laughing.

“It is not so... bad.” You blink up at Jimin, his face appearing a little hazy, and your smile falters when you keep blinking and it only gets worse. His smile has also dropped, noticing how you nearly miss when you move to set your glass back upon the table. Seokjin makes some offhanded comment about you not being able to hold your liquor, but you don’t quite catch it, barely noticing the laughter swelling around the room again.

Jimin continues to stare at you as you sway a bit and he knows there is no way you could possibly be this intoxicated so quickly, but it is only when your eyes start to drift shut and you nearly fall out of your chair that the alarm bells in his head start ringing. You feel his hands on you when he lunges forward to catch you. Your shoulder pressing into the edge of the table. And you can hear him asking if you are alright, but you can no longer see him or anything else around you. It feels as if your body has gone numb, nothing responding to your will, and you are too disoriented to feel the fear that should surely be tight in your gut. Just darkness. And cold. Like life being sucked from your lips by death’s kiss.

The room erupts into chaos when you go completely limp, and the last thing you feel is your body being lowered to the ground as everything falls silent to you.

[runawaymarbles]

Black Sails Fic Rec

Silver/Flint

shaking at the sight by vowelinthug | 1k | T |

two pirate kings, united vs. an entire island's naval forces.

the island didn't stand a chance.

look for something left in this world by vowelinthug | 2k | M |

it’s a nice day for a white wedding

too bad they aren’t having one

yer mother darns socks in hell by youatemytailor | 4k | M |

Christ, Flint thinks. He fucking hates Freetown.

el cuentacuento by straddling_the_atmosphere | 4k | NR | +Silver/Madi

At the end of the day, John Silver is an unreliable narrator.

Or: a storyteller’s story.

show me the way to go home by vowelinthug | 8k | NC-17 |

set during 2x4, in which Silver and Flint take a much-deserved time out and enjoy a drink or seven

and they both learn a valuable lesson about each other

namely that neither one has ever had any chill whatsoever in their entire goddamn life

let us possess one world by vowelinthug | 8k | NC-17 |

They return to Nassau after their defeat of the British Navy, only to be met by Agitator Billy and his propaganda machine. This is why Captain Flint tries not to let other people decide things.

In which: Flint wears a disguise, Silver tells a terrible story, one bathes the other, and only one man died the whole night which is, like, definitely a record for them.

What's in a Name? by Craftnarook | 9k | NC-17 |

Some conversations in the dark between Flint and Silver, set during episode 3x09. They have a moment alone in the Maroon camp, after Mr Scott's death, and what begins as curiosity and sharing develops into rather a lot more.

you are the queen and i am the wolf by vowelinthug | 10k | NC-17 |

They call him John the Giant.

Flint calls himself James the Early Risk for Heart Failure.

Don’t Fear the Ships (Fear the Black) by farasha | 11k | NC-17 |

“You can’t read sea charts.”

“Can’t is a strong word.”

Flint teaches Silver how to sail. As with everything they do, there’s a lot more going on unspoken.

Or, Silver tries to convince Flint that it would be a bad thing if he died.

ya filthy animals by vowelinthug | 12k | NC-17 |

Flint and Silver could be rulers of an illegal organization, major mob bosses, kingpins, criminal masterminds, etc.

But then they could also be petty shoplifters who like to drink during the day and fool around on their houseboat.

With Nothing On My Tongue by RosieTwiggs | 14k | NC-17 | +Silver/Madi

“Silver thinks: Maybe God likes it when I fight with him.

He wonders now, whether he’s been playing into God’s plan all along. Because no matter how angry he gets, how defensive, how many “fuck you”s he flings to the heaven, isn’t it all just proof that he still believes God is there, despite it all?

Silver doesn’t know how to counter that.

Maybe he doesn’t want to anymore.

Blue all in a rush by twofrontteethstillcrooked | 16k | NC-17 |

There were dozens of questions Flint wanted to ask. He chose, "Did it not occur to you I would find out you were here almost immediately?"

st. augustine is that way by vowelinthug | 18k | NC-17 |

James Flint had yet to meet a conversation he couldn’t avoid.

John Silver had yet to meet a routine he couldn’t disrupt.

(post-show domesticity, with oranges)

we must unlearn the constellations to see the stars by lacecat | 19k | M | + Flint/Thomas, Silver/Madi

Silver wakes up each time to a different day in his past.

He thinks that if this is his purgatory, he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.

Sail These Roads and Back Again by neverfaraway | 20k | M 

James has fled the New World for the Old, shed his name and found quietude in his solitary existence. That is, until his favourite worst memory appears on the farm track, collapses upon his sopha, and refuses to be shaken loose. While Corsica smoulders and war becomes ever more likely, Flint and Silver enter a war of their own: to reclaim their past and forge an uncertain future.

gonna need a bigger boat by lacecat | 20k | Not Rated

“You really want to say that, when you’re sitting across from a man who lost his leg to a shark?” Flint scoffs. "There is no way a shark took your leg!" "Of course not," Silver says, smirking. After he draws the silence out, for what feels appropriately dramatic enough period of time, he adds, "It was two sharks."

Tell me we're dead and I'll love you even more by Craftnarook | 22k | M |

In the year 1725, or thereabouts, John Silver finds himself driven by a storm into an inconsequential little port town, barely a speck on any civilised map. Returned to the life of a drifter, tired and rough around the edges, he is resigned to waiting for the weather to pass before he can sail on again to the next town, and the next, and the next. That is until he overhears a conversation in the inn about a local fisherman, one Captain Barlow, and his tall tales of tempests and becalmings, devils and sharks, and Silver finds a new future opening up to him, haunted by the spectres of his past.

John Silver Can’t Get There From Here by Apetslife | 33k | Series, G-E | + Silver/Madi, Anne/Jack

Or: Fuck Treasure Island, And Also Actual History, And Probably Season Four Canon, Too

“He is so terribly in love with you,” Madi murmurs to him from out of nowhere, sitting easy in the curve of his arm in the shade of their small porch.

Fifteen Men in September by ballantine | NR | 34k |

Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

A Black Sails origin story for the song.

turning saints into the sea by lacecat | 86k | NC-17 | + Flint/Thomas, Silver/Madi, Miranda/Flint

They say she arrived in Nassau during a hurricane. They say that she brought with her a priest she had kidnapped to father her children, whom she then turned into storms to guide the direction of her ship. They say she has sworn to kill as many men on this Earth as she could, that she bathes in the blood of young children ripped from their mother’s breasts to attain immortality, doomed to serve the seas forever in return.

In reality, Silver has seen Flint conjure exactly zero storm-like offspring, but she does know how she speaks with the sort of conviction that if she were a man, they would write books about her. There’s a stiffness to her posture that speaks of someone who might better be found in a London parlor rather than a dusty brothel in the Bahamas, and yet she has a fierce temper that rivals any man’s on the island, a dangerous look about her like the air rippling over fire.

Silver/Flint/Hamilton(+)

The Isle of Hope by ElDiablito_SF | 16k | M |

When a heartbroken John Silver arrives in Georgia ten years after the events on Skeleton Island, he doesn't quite have it in him to face Flint. Instead, he concocts a scheme to befriend Thomas, and gets more than he bargained for in exchange

The Tether Series by stele3 | 58k | M |

“So you did find him,” the man says faintly. When Thomas looks up he finds himself caught in perhaps the strangest regard one person has ever given another, a gaze that absolutely does not dissuade Thomas from the notion that a feral, scavenging animal has broken into their home.

Smallpox Verse by vowelinthug | 70k | T-NC17 | + Madi

post-finale, where everyone learns a valuable lesson about communication and smallpox. (no one actually gets smallpox.)

The Canterbury Tales by Wind_Ryder | 133k | NC-17 | +Madi

Pirates. Attacking Georgia. A part of Thomas wants to believe that there’s nothing at all relating the events outside to the events in his personal life.

But when he turns around and sees John Silver slipping in through the backdoor, he very much doubts that’s the case. “Tea?” Thomas asks blandly, throwing the latch and shutting his blinds like a good Puritan man.

Flint/Hamilton(s)

the stars and she who runs with them by alovelylight | 1k | G |

When she declared Peter Ashe a traitor, her heart beating fury into the expanse of her body, she knew this was what James felt like. The constructed castles of civilization falling to the ground, dragons from the dark breathing out and destroying all the lies they hold dear. This was what she wanted; this would be her peace.

Time Covers All Things by lilithi|ien | 12k | T | +Silver/Flint

She imagines it will be liberating to take a new name, to adopt a new life. The next day, as she steps off the gangway onto the island sand, she tries to leave who she was behind like a snake shedding its skin. She can almost get away with it. How Lady Hamilton becomes Mrs Barlow.

The Witch Queen of Nassau by shirogiku | 12k | NC-17 | 

After James is captured by the Navy, it falls to Miranda to organise the rescue. Nothing goes according to the plan.

Revenant by BethWinter | 18k | T |

After Charlestown burns, Abigail Ashe meets a man who says he was a friend of her father’s. He gives her a choice.

The Far Waste of the Waters by more_night | M | 22.5k |  + Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi

James McGraw removes Skeleton Island from his mind.

Somewhere in Boston by redwhale | T | 29k | + Laura Moon/Shadow Moon

Mr. Wednesday tries to recruit the dread pirate Captain Flint for his war against the New Gods, and runs afoul of Thomas Hamilton in the attempt. Meanwhile, Shadow just wants a new goddamn book to read, is that so much to ask?

Soon after, on the trail of Wednesday and Shadow, Laura and Mad Sweeney find themselves in a charming bookstore in Boston...

Unaccommodated Man by kvikindi | T | 27k |

It is at this point that, for the first time, Thomas Hamilton begins to consider that he has gone mad.

The Sundering Sea by x_art | 137k | NR | Flint/Thomas

Stepping into the foamy surf, gasping at the force of it, the surprise of it—it had been breathtaking. Thomas had been that for him, his boundless sea, and he wasn’t ashamed.

Max/Anne (+)

you'll always paint my sky by mapped | 2k | T |

She still loves Max, and it gets harder and harder to deny it to herself.

(Anne through the second half of S4.)

histoire à tiroirs by straddling_the_atmosphere | 3k | T |  +Max/Eleanor, Max/Idelle

histoire (n): a story, a fictional tale, a narrative account, a lie

Or: Max and shifting sands

Bounteous by willowbilly | 4k | M | Anne/Max/Mary/Jack

It’s a queer hurt, almost like the relief of peeling off an old scab, to feel her heart pulling in three separate directions and to feel it expanding to encompass the whole damn rest of the compass rose rather than be so fragile as to rip itself asunder. Anne never would have thought, before, that she’d be this fucking caring. That she’d had such a deep well of love waiting untapped within her, way down.

kintsugi by princejake | 6k | T |

Anne nestles into his shoulder, her hair brushing against his cheek, and suddenly Jack can breathe properly for the first time in weeks. Here they are, together, in balance as they’ve been from the beginning. Complete again.

When he opens his eyes Max is watching them from across the street. Her posture is carefully neutral, but her eyes are… solemn. Stoic. Filled with a kind of barren peace. She always could convey so much with just a look.

Something twinges uncomfortably behind Jack’s breastbone. /Oh./ Perhaps not so in balance after all.

Other/Misc/Gen

no man’s land by rhllors | 2.5k | T |  Jack/Anne/Mary

The man on the deck looks back at them, considering. He’s handsome but he oozes violence; armed, scarred, tall, hair slung round a bandana, the same colour of a recently opened wound. “I’ve heard of you,” he says, with an infliction she’s not familiar with: somewhere from the continent, not French. Perhaps Holland. “The name’s Read.” he continues, eyes tracing the rim of her hat. “Mark Read.”

armed with the past and the will by whimsicalimages | 3k | T | Silver/Madi

The language of winning and losing, this language that men favor – Madi can speak this language, though she disagrees with its precepts. Success takes different forms, and failing once does not mean failing forever. It does not even mean failing the next time.

Gone to Port Royal by Apetslife | 3k | G | All the pairings

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness : heaven

same bottle, same gun: two shots by AstronautSquid | 5k | T | minor Flint/Thomas, Max/Eleanor

„I will walk,“ Flint interrupted her objections. „You have just maneuvered yourself into a position of considerable power on this island, and now you have gone and cast aside a man the island admires and fears. It won’t do for you to be seen sharing a horse with me like a wounded young girl.“ Eleanor stared up at him; a wounded young girl full of curses, with a rifle resting like a sleeping babe in her arm.

[Nassau, 1708. Eleanor Guthrie remembers a moment in the life of Lieutenant McGraw. Captain Flint doesn’t.]

what’s a king but a heavy name by thatsarockfact55 | 51k | T | Mr. Scott/Maroon Queen, Madi/Silver, background Flint/Silver 

In the quiet night, one stranger tells another what he has always known: “I have been so many names, Long John Silver, and if not for love I would be no one at all.”

-

One story of a spirit, a slave, a father, and a pirate king, told in seven parts.

Winds of Change and Chance  by PanBoleyn | 60k | T | (eventual Silver/Flint, Miranda/Thomas, Flint/Hamiltons, Flint/Silver/Miranda) 

In which a thief and his daemon make their way onto a pirate ship, and vastly underestimate how hard it will be to get off again.

Well, the thief does. His daemon had a feeling this might happen.