#wip: family ghost story
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oc name meaning tag game
ooooooh this is an interesting game, thanks for the tag @dotr-rose-love! (sorry @ everyone whose tag games i missed pretty much the entire month of march btw, i know i'll never get to catch up on them but might work through a few that look immediately doable at some point) i'm tagging @nanashi23, @inkspellangel, @linaket, @pga-books, and @ls-daydreams!
rules: list OCs and explain the meaning of their names
i tend to pick names based on the vibe i have for the character -- i have strooooong associations with various vowel combinations, or arrangement of letters, or pairings, etc., so most of this is just "idk it sounded cool". but because i love the idea of this game so much, i'm going to do it for every WIP i have rn:
so it goes
Marisa: i wanted a name that ended with an A because names like that make me think of someone sincere and serious
Isaiah: i wanted a biblical name; i associate those with families with deep lineages and a strong matriarch for some reason, which was a quality i wanted Isaiah to have
Ali: i wanted a name that complemented marisa's because they were sisters in the original draft, and i feel like L's and S's complement each other nicely. her full name is Alison, but i wanted her to be someone fun and outgoing, and Ali feels like that more than Alison
Paige: i got stuck on her name and picked a name from a random generator -- for some reason, when i see the name Paige, i instantly think of a girl who is aesthetically similar to the character (whose description is inspired by Gillian Jacobs)
Henry: another random generator produced this one -- i wanted it to be a very common man's name that wouldn't provoke much interest
Sophia: she's not a main character but i fucking love the name sophia/sofia so much. it's probably my favorite ever girl's name. it means wisdom and in some schools of gnosticism it was the emanation of god that was paired with Christ and unintentionally caused the world to exist
the space between pomegranate seeds
Meredith: i wanted a name that felt like the weird religious girl everyone knew growing up, but wasn't super cliche like Chastity lol
(most of the other characters are purposefully unnamed)
decomposing gods - priestess of bones
Claire: when i originally came up with this story idea i was deep into my Early Cronenberg Period (end of 2021) and had just rewatched Dead Ringers. i knew there would be a trio of women, so i gave them the names from the movie as placeholders: Claire, Bev, and Elly. i chose Claire for the documentarian because i felt the name fit her personality/vibe best, a diminutive brunette intent to prove herself
Bev: as above. i originally wanted to go Bev/Elly for the documentarian and camera person's roles, but realized they didn't fit right. also frankly i always categorized this as a lesbian name in my head for some reason, which worked out best since the character is queer
Sofia: even though i felt like Claire and Bev fit well with the characters i also never intended to actually use the trio's name. Sofia as a filmmaker is actually most inspired by Julia Ducournau, but i do love Sofia Coppola, lol.
bilocation
Emily: the real person she is based on is Ămilie SagĂ©e, and i didn't want to trick myself into not writing this by deciding to do research on the historical period she's from (1800s latvia), so i americanized her name and placed it in a 1980s boarding school in oregon but retained the formal speaking voice i'd imagined for her
Ms. Frond: i honestly went with the first word that popped into my brain on this -- i have so many characters named after the most bizarre shit because i'll use anything for a last name that pops into my head. i love it, though, because Emily becomes obsessed with her and has an established fascination with plants
Roland: i wanted a name that felt like a surprise on the groundskeeper character -- he looks like a dude who would be named something like Biff or Johnson or something, but he becomes a much more tender and gentle character than you anticipate from the description
#tag game#ty for the tag <3#wip: so it goes#wip: family ghost story#wip: found footage#wip: bilocation#there are literally no named characters in either of the other stories i've drafted for decomposing gods and i only just realized that#i have others but they're not drafted so i disqualified them
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oh man the judge/calliope and pallas&agnes thoughts are really eating holes in my brain tonight,,,,,,
#about to ramble extensively in these tags so bear with me lol#anyways it makes me want to run in circles bc there r like. the similarities of course there are.#judge and agnes separated from their families and home for better or for worse trying to make their way back to that.#calliope and pallas absolute gnarled messes of self loathing calcified by extremely destructive magic.#both duoâs have the undying loyalty have the tenderness have the when is a monster not a monster oh when you love it#of it all.#but then thereâs the fact that what judge and calliope have going on is very much romantic+sexual where pallas and agnes are Not#and that undeniably colours so many of their interactions#so the intimacy in both of the relationships is expressed in a different context#and thereâs also agnes primarily concerned with her own survival vs judgeâs dedication to a larger cause and quest#pallas priding themself on control of their powers vs calliopes unmanageable werewolf transformations#the fact that pallas and agnes meet at 17 and are total strangers#while judge and calliope have known each other since they were kids and growing into each other#judge wanting to protect agnes from pallas and warning her to Be Careful Because Theyâre A Killer while calliope#(<- has killed and will kill again) is literally standing at her shoulder#agnes BONE DEEP conviction that pallas will never hurt her despite everything vs calliope having hurt judge VERY badly in the past#and judge forgiving him for it even tho they didnât want to be forgiven#this is probably incoherent but i am THINKING i am pondering#these fourâŠ. god.#wip: ghost story
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procrastinating on an assignment rn so i remade a test team for my headcanon of leaf. my idea is that she started her journey before red and blue but mysteriously disappeared and everyone except for red and blue forgot she ever existed. what actually happened is that she got involved in the early stages of the mewtwo project by accident and basically lost contact with the world and became trapped in a pocket dimension with mew.Â
#the trapped in a pocket dimension bit is a wip idk if ill do anything with it#but like. she gets involved w mew. she catches mew.#this is also following the yellow canon instead of rbg which is kinda weird but i just like red starter being pikachu#and he catches all of the kanto starters. but if we followed that canon then she'd have venusaur instead of gengar#or clefable.#so she has clefable because it was considered as a mascot but scrapped. so she gotthe ''leftover''#parasect bc of the mindfuckery around her disappearance#ditto bc of the ''ditto is a failed mew clone'' theory which i love. she felt bad for one of them in the mansion#marowak is the orphaned baby cubone from the main story bc of how she feels lost from her own family#gengar bc she feels like a ghost. another idea is that she somehow became like a ghost and can see everyone#but cannot interact#and mew bc ofc#red also catches mewtwo in my hc so the siblings have the mew duo#echoed voice
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The Cost of Your Silence !!!
Your silence is allowing these atrocities and massacres in Palestine to continue. The bloody violence against innocent people persists because of it. Ten months have passedâYES, TEN MONTHSâand the genocide continues, as does the silence. Enough is enough! Enough silence, enough genocide, and enough killing. Gaza deserves better. We deserve a better life, and you deserve to be heard.
Every krone brings us closer to safety. Every share and every reblog helps us reach someone new who might be able to support us. If youâre unable to donate, please consider sharing our story with your followers and online communities. Your voice matters, and together, we can make a difference.
You may not be able to protect us directly, but you can amplify our message and RESCUE us from death by donating and spreading our story. If you know of any forums, groups, or networks that could help, please share our story with them.
To everyone who has already shared or donated, thank you. Even the smallest contribution can make a significant impact. Our story is your story. Please continue to donate and share, and help us reach those who can make a difference.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
Important note: Donation value: ** 220 Swedish krona is just 20$ ** 1050 SEK is just 100$ ** 10500 SEK is just 1000 $
@nabulsi @el-shab-hussein @sar-soor @90-ghost @timogsilangan
@fading-event-608 @buttercuparry @determinate-negation @transmutationisms @appsa
@prierepaiienne @pcktknife @feluka @just-browsing1222 @interact-if
@solidarityisnotaslogan-blog-blog @unified-multiversal-theory @feministacansada @feministactionsupportnetwork @globalvoices
@save-the-world-but-lose-her @save-the-world-one-day-at-a-time @save-the-world-tonight @wip-wednesday @allthingswordy
@writerscorner-blog @fictionfood @wordsthat-speak @writerscunts-blog @storyshots-blog
@wordsnstories-blog @writeblr @thewritingcaddy @fictionwriting2 @inkstay
@creativepromptsforwriting @humansofnewyork @intersectional-feminist @intersectional-feminists @intersectional-feminism
@intersectional-feminist-killjoy @thepeoplesrecord @socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews
@socialgoofy @fightforhumanity-rpg-blog @fightforhumanity-rp @queerandpresentdanger
#gaza#palestine#free palestine#genocide#palestinian genocide#all eyes on gaza#humanity#charity#donate#humanitarian aid#gaza genocide#free gaza#help gaza#pray for gaza#poltiics#current events#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#gravity falls#the umbrella academy#interview with the vampire#iwtv#donald trump#kamala harris#joe biden#ffxiv#acotar#art#artists on tumblr3
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đč let me see what youve got cookin bestie :3c
for every "đč" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing
Angst. I ahve angst cooking.
From: 'The ghost story would be over- chapter two'
Jay feels Nick gasp and something angry and almost jealous bites at the corner of her stomach. Itâs not his family that has just fallen apart. He still has Matt and Kenny, he still has the people who raised him. Nick hasnât got the right to be shocked because itâs not his world that's falling apart. Slowly she shoves his hands away, shifting to the other end of the couch before wrapping trembling hands around one another. Nick makes a small, sad sound and glances up at Kenny. "Did I-?"
#wip ask game#oc: jay orton#ship: jay and her brothers [family]#story: the ghost story would be over#nicky jacksonville#mouse has pals#kass the kitten
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candles & flames: air | jjk (m)
bonus chapter I: air
Summary: Voices over the grapevine murmur that somebody has been yearning for you who certainly shouldn't. Jungkook is agitated to the core â reacts immediately until something far sweeter overshadows the envy and turns his and your life upside down.
âł pairing: Jungkook x reader âł rating: 18+ âł genre: established relationship, royal!au; fluff, smut âł warnings: so much okay let's see; jk is jealousss, mention of a dead parent, daddy issues, pregnancy, birth (no details), kissing, insecurities that are resolved, worries and tears, somebody faints :'), 19th century culture/beliefs/society, short mention of the struggles after birth, a guest appearance!, and a cute baby đ jk loves the kiddo so much that his affection makes him cry; explicit sexual content: making out, muchhh teasing, fondling, biting, he loveees her tiddies, oral (f. receiving), he touches himself/masturbation, manhandling, soft dom!koo, big dick!koo, he threatens to tie her up lol, "fck me like you hate me", both hard and soft s/x moments, love spanks, delaying of orgasm, hair pulling, he's roughhhh, fingering, multiple orgasms; pls spot the lil references to the other parts hehe đ âł wc: 24.4k yay! âł a/n: hi hi hiiii. it's been literal months, but we're here again and sharing another piece of our soul. hope y'all like this one, whether you've just arrived here or been here for a while. love you all and as always, let me know what you think!! đ€ âł a/n2: this is a bonus chapter for my mini-series candles & flames. reading the rest of the story helps!! find the mpost below <3
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
The quiet hysteria starts with a whisper.
It echoes off the walls that Friday afternoon, seemingly insignificant at first. Most of the whispers are â a cacophony of hisses and sharp tones and hushed nodding.
Uttered between members of the staff, Jungkook catches the conversation coincidentally. He never means to eavesdrop, but these accidental occurrences have revealed one or two things to him before.
Like, what they ate for dinner last night. Or how their sons had learned to read. Jungkook would laugh at stories about neighbours, pout at tragedies of lost family members. But what he hears today is worth neither of those reactions; just mild yet growing confusion.
He wouldnât have registered a word if heâd left his office a minute later. Wouldnât have known if heâd opted for his meal thirty seconds earlier.
No. He had to step out now. Cross paths with the staff in this very moment as if it was supposed to happen, coming to a stand in the hallway, mind instantly whirling and eyebrows furrowed.Â
The two women, startled by the sudden appearance, freeze at their spot a couple feet from Jungkookâs body. They stare at him as though met with a ghost, eyes trailing from his uncurling fist to the Lordâs unmatchable face â puzzled at the moment.
Abandoning curiosity and the hint of amusement, sudden respect spreads over their countenances, and once they have made sense of the situation, they straighten their backs. Bow a little. One of them a little deeper than the other.
Their eyes are as wide as his; the scene couldnât be more comedic in the afternoon sun shining through the wide window. Three baffled figures fighting the awkwardness; growing by the second until one of them murmurs, âLord Jeon.â
Her tone is timid, as if she fears he mightâve heard â which he did, alright. But they donât dare make an attempt at asking about it, perhaps finally realising that things like these arenât really their business.
So they only nod again, waiting for the man to react in kind, and then rush past him and down the hall. Jungkook isnât stupid, though â he knows they wonât stop talking.
And he could confront them. Call them back and demand an explanation, lay out every word he just heard and analyse it with what they know. But he doesnât. He lets them approach the end of the hallway, turning left at the end of it just a few seconds later.
His bodyâs balanced weight shifts to his left leg, and he puts both his hands on his hips, curling his lower lip inward and tracing it with his tongue. He knows better than to believe rumours mumbled in the gardens or halls of this place.
Maybe itâd be foolish to overthink just yet. Guess heâll need to ask you yourself.
But he canât help but replay the conversation in his mind, gaze wandering out of the window and to the blue sky above. He soaks in the summer, lowers his eyebrows, appetite forgotten as he simply voicesâ
âHuh.â
Existing in this world with you as the love of his life isnât easy.
Thereâs magic to how you move. To the way you slip under the blanket with that enchanting smile. To how you reach for the back of your head, undoing the bow.
For a moment, he canât keep his eyes from the locks that fall over your shoulder; how you sigh in relief as your scalp finally breathes. And when you lean against the bed frame, pulling your legs up and knees close to you, book in hand, you look endlessly cosy.
Warm and inviting, soft hands holding the novel. Your side profile is tender, lips always a perfect curve. Your mouth moves with the words you read, and you smile whenever a description delights you.
You always live in a dream. You are one, too.
Loving you isnât easy because youâre a constant source of healthy insanity. Of the burning in his chest, the odd feeling in his stomach, and the yearning in his fingers.
But especially tonight, you evoke something he only ever experiences with you. He did it when he saw you dancing with somebody else two years ago. And feels a sliver of it whenever he catches men staring at you at gatherings.
The emotion boils green inside of him, and somehow, youâve managed to elicit it more than once. He could swear he never knew of it before he met you. Youâre truly a spell; only right now, he wishes he felt something else.
You shut the book suddenly, keeping a finger where you stopped, and look up into his eyes without a warning. He flinches just a little, as if awakening from a dream, and you laugh.
âWill you speak whatâs on your mind or just keep staring?â you ask; the tilt of your head is sickeningly sweet.
He improvises â nods towards the novel and wonders, âWhat is it about?â
âOh,â you look down, holding it up, âsecret affairs. Princess to be betrothed is in love with someone else.â
The situation lacks so much humour that he canât help but find it funny. He suppresses the sarcastic smirk and the shake of his head, keeping the facade upright as he admits, âThat is very brave of the author to thematise.â
Your eyes narrow a little, drenched in confusion. âWell, I mean. A lot of them are. But itâs just words on pages. How many secret affairs do you think happen in actual life?â
More than youâd know. Jungkook has seen enough to understand that lovers often reunite in shadows; or that they betray loved ones when the world goes quiet.
You believe in people, though. You romanticise the world. Assume that cruelty is rare, and that most human beings strive for loyalty and flawlessness.
But he doesnât say any of it; only shifts closer to your optimistic, angelic warmth, craving your scent. He says, âWe were the opposite, werenât we? Made everyone think we were in love when we still despised each other.â
You cock an eyebrow; he instantly regrets his words, realising how harsh they truly sounded. You might be gentle, but you can be just as fierce, too â so he prepares for some scolding, lips parted.
But you only puff out a breath, freeing the finger trapped between the pages, and put the book aside. Then, you say, âI still despise you.â
Jungkook stares, pausing for a moment, and you let him ogle for another second before you laugh. You grab the still hand on his thigh, lifting it to your lips and press the feather lightest of kisses against its back.
You keep the palm against your cheek, inquiring carefully, âIs something troubling you?â
âNo,â he immediately shoots, âno. I just wanted to ask about your novel.â
âJust about the novel?â
âMhm. Yes.â
âHmm. Well, yes, that one,â you grace it another glance, âitâs good. A typical story about a royal princess mingling with the stable boy and rejecting the prince.â
Jungkook nods, but you think his pupils widen. Is he imagining a scenario of his own? Not enjoying the storyline? Perhaps.
Because he states, âDisloyalty is quite something. I would,â he pauses, blowing a raspberry, âdie if I was the prince.â
He emphasises die with all his tongueâs strength; you huff at the dramatics of the moment, puzzled by the sudden shift in mood. In truth, this is not such an unusual behaviour.
Because more often than not, Jungkook displays interest in your little hobbies. Novels render you sentimental, and youâve pulled him into the whirling storm of emotions that those stories made you feel before.
Like,
âThey wonât accept him because heâs an artist?â
âSo he decides to leave instead of fighting for her?â
âAlright, tell me about the first time he tells her he loves her.â
Heâll lean forward, turn to his side, eyes wide, indulging in the narrative. Mirroring your emotions, a sucker for tales and sentiments, albeit barely ever picking up a book voluntarily.
Just today. Today something seems off. The issue he has with the feelings prevalent in the book seem to reach far deeper â to a personal level, it seems.
You start slowly and patiently, shaking your head once before you say, âBut you wonât die. I chose my prince wisely, and I do not care for our stable boys,â you pause, lifting a finger with a laugh, âwait. In such a way, I mean. They are actually very kind.â
Jungkook doesnât appreciate your joke â your suspicion grows. Although he does turn to the side again, elbow digging into the pillow, body closer to yours.
âWhat about lords?â
Huh. What?
You echo your thoughts, âWhat?â You wait for only a moment before the space between his eyebrows morphs into a crease, and you mimic the expression. âAlright. Now youâre not making sense anymore.â
It takes another second or two for his drying eyes to blink. The movement is slow, a little frustrated; he looks to his hands. Then up to you; to the wall behind you and back to you.
Then, his Adamâs apple bops, swallowing thickly before he finally reveals, âThe maids were talking about some neighbouring man. Lord Jeong or something. Would you happen to know him?â
Jeong?Â
HmâŠ
You think for a moment.
Of course you know him. The town isnât too far from yours, and the people around here never speak ill of him. In fact, one of your cooks was just praising him a couple weeks ago as you dined without Jungkook during his busy working hours.
The cook kept you company for most of the time, speaking of his pre-Jeon adventures in other towns, with other lords.
You hum before you respond, âI know of a Jeong Yuno. But I have never spoken to him.â
The sigh of relief that Jungkook heaves is immediate. You stare bewildered.
âGood,â he answers, âthey were justâŠâ
He scratches his scalp before the hand drops to the mattress with a dull thump. For a distracted moment, he smoothens the already flat baby blue surface, drifting from his original thought.
The light tug at the sheet creates new wrinkles; you watch intently, relaxed and calm. Only, you arenât sure he feels the same way. Especially when his fingertips shift to the back of your hand, a ghost touch looming over your thumb.
He must have thought about this a lot.
âThey were saying that a lord was spreading rumours about how he used to want you and would still not hesitate if you could be his.â
Oh.
âThatâs⊠not a proper thing to announce for a lord,â you sympathise, gaining an instant nod, enhanced by the round, big, brown eyes.
âYes. It is not. A very outrageous statement to give about a married lady anyway.â
âMhmâŠâ
You are in full agreement that the words shouldnât have fallen out of a presumably respected man of the country. Someone as loved and cherished by a community shouldnât comment on a married couple, even less on the wife of a well-known man.
Jungkookâs father was celebrated around towns and villages â the head of the capital.
Itâs just that in this case â you can imagine what occurred. The lord in question relishes a far lesser known reputation than Jungkook. If itâs who you imagine it to be, he must be reigning over a tiny village now.Â
You remember that back when you knew him, he was still young, uninterested in his parentsâ legacy; seems he has made it far. Though, it seems he hasnât quite understood the responsibilities that come with royalship.
Shit.
Jungkook notices your fog-shrouded gaze; you probably havenât blinked in a while. He touches and taps your wrist, pulling back your attention, possibly still tense as he asks, âWhat?â
When you look at him, he resembles a curious, frightened puppy, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Heâs pouting, waiting for an answer, lips parted. He lifts his head off the propped up hand, alerted, and repeatsâ
âWhat?â
Waving his concerns off would do nothing, right? You swore to always be transparent â and this issue isnât big enough to be postponed. In fact, it might only grow if you do choose to stuff it in a chamber.
âYou are not talking about Jeong,â you explain, carefully wrapping your fingers around his, âbut Jung. Jung Hoseok.â
The curtain of relief falls and gives way to a dark, gloomy night. You know he expected this conversation to be over, for his misunderstanding to turn out as just this. But thereâs more behind the maidsâ whispers â and he hates it.
âWho?â he asks.
âWe donât have to talk about it if you feel displeased with it.â
âWhy would I feel displeased?â Jungkook prods, slowly sitting up. âIs there a reason to?â
Absolutely not. But you also know your husband isnât the most patient of men when it comes to envy and poison green feelings alike. You still remember the night you confronted his uncle â slivers of jealousy found their way through him even then.
âNo,â you admit, âbut it is absurd, and I knew you would react like this.â
âLike what? I am calm.â
That he is.
At least the rapid breathing, the voice gaining on pitch, the manner in which he squeezes your hand â they indicate a form of calm unknown to you, alright.
âJungkookâŠâ you mumble, wiping over the back of his hand with your thumb, trying to calm the grip.
You move on the bed, butt bumping against your book and nearly knocking it to the ground. Tired from the day, you grunt as you get on your knees, watching him follow your body before you finally straddle him.
Jungkook gets into a proper position, heaving himself up until his back is pressed to the bedâs railing. He holds onto your waist to keep your balance, and you shift properly onto his lap.
Once stabilised, your hands hurry to his face, squishing his cheeks just a little as you speak, âI shall make you wiser then?â
âYou shall stop teasing me.â
The fiery eyes could throw daggers at you on any other day, but the pout he talks through just makes him look⊠sweet. Thick eyebrows kiss, and he pulls at one of your hands to lighten the cradling grip around his face.
You angle your head, fond of the soft care, albeit hiding behind an insecurity. Thereâs flattery in the way his mind created a nonexistent rival â at least, he thinks youâre worth the worship.
You surrender when he blinks, letting out an exasperated breath, âAlright. Remember when I told you I have only fallen in love very few times?â
âAt the orphanage.â
His answer shoots out of him as if scripted, and you dare a subtle chuckle. Your thumb brushes against his lips and the mole underneath them; you think that despite his agitation, the gesture soothes his soul.
âJung Hoseok was one of those people,â you say.
A few buttons of his linen shirt are open, so you see his sun kissed chest heave at the admission. You move a hand down to touch the sculpted skin, warm and immediately comforting under your touch.
âHe was the only other Lord I ever dared to mess with, but he wasnât too important back then yet. And Hoseok⊠he caught me at a time when I was not yet ready for bigger commitments. Despite my feelings for him.â
Jungkookâs eyes are glistening. Helplessly observing your every move and expression, lost for words as he digests yours. Thereâs an ego in men that you havenât understood just yet; fragile at times.
So this piece of information must be activating a thorough thought process in him.
Itâs odd. How those once roaming around town are usually the ones affected the most when they actually fall in love. Protective and dedicated to an exceptional degree.
Maybe, however, because his escapades never meant anything at all. And you⊠You put your heart in someoneâs hands once.
âWhat happened?â Jungkook wonders, puppy stare intact.
You donât think thereâs more to tell â or more for him to know. But a curious mind is a curious mind.
So you tell him, âHe wanted more right away. Dedication, marriage, for me to leave my house. And,â you shrug, uncomfortable with memories of a past lover; you want to keep loving and touching your current one, âI couldnât.â
Youâre not sure whether his nerves are calming at all; but youâre satisfied and relieved when he lifts a palm to the small of your back, gaze warm. You keep playing with the collar of the soft linen.
âAnd now I am happy I didnât. In hindsight, we were so incredibly different. I mean, people are different, but⊠we didnât match at all.â
âWere youâŠâ His voice is so unbearably quiet. So sweet and lovely; the cocky boy from years ago has a delicate heart, and you want it pressed to yours. âReady when I asked you to marry me?â
Ready? In fact, your skin was tingling with joy; every moment of the day.
You soothe his worries, âI would not be here if I hadnât been. This,â you raise your fingers to his cheek again, brushing his face with their back, âyou. I wonât ever want more. Youâre all the dreams Iâve ever dreamt.â
Are you referring to nightly images conjured by a dreamy mind? When youâre fast asleep, barely ever tossing beside him? Because as far as heâs concerned, you follow him even into his daydreams, in your presence and in your absence.
If he told you now, he fears youâd dissipate; youâre a soul with its head in the clouds, and youâve always appreciated a gesture of romance here and there.
Youâre a force of nature, and someone to be desired greatly.
But.
Perhaps thatâs whatâs troubling him the most right now. And it never has before. He knows youâre captivating, and heâs proud that somebody loves him whoâs easy to love, but this time⊠this time the whispers prevail, and they do something odd to his mind.
He matches your smile, giving into the relief you bring; yet, distressed by his own intrusive thoughts and memories of conversations heâs gathered, he canât help but let his gaze fall. It floats over your bare neck and clavicles and then drops further to your lap.
A hand on his neck, you opt for a question â he knows by the way you suck in a soft breath, knows every of your motions and their meanings. But before your inquiry tumbles out, he murmurs, âThey were saying he wants you back.â
And the worst thing is that you donât hesitate, immediately nodding. âI heard about it. I uh⊠the other day I went down to the village and one of them told me her sister was part of the staff over in his town. And they heard others in his mansion say it, apparently.â
Jungkook doesnât like the ugly, searing hot feeling spreading beneath his chest. It differs entirely from anger or disgust; pure fire burning up his insides and extending to his head.
That you talked about the still rather yearning lord with somebody else isnât Jungkookâs favourite thought, admittedly. Worse even when you proceed, âHeâs unmarried, Iâve heard.â
But what could you do with what you heard? Do you even care?
Jungkook swallows the balls of flames until the vexing sensation burns in his stomach, nearly afraid to ask, âWhat do you think of that?â
He shouldnât be, though. Because youâve proved time and time again who you stand with â yet, it feels like a wanted relief when you, with absolute certainty unmatched, assure, âNothing. How could that affect my life? Iâm here, with you.â
âIâŠâ Jungkook tilts his head, and when he stares back up to you again, you could swear a piece of your heart detaches itself from the rest. Shoots right into his chest. âAm I being stupid?â
And how could it not if the man of your dreams, yours in this and the next lives, usually so composed, wordlessly declares you his kryptonite every single day?
Your eyebrows furrow slightly in unending adoration and worship, and you sigh, touching his cheek, wishing there was a far superior way to showcase affection and love of such tender sort.
âA little,â you admit.
âBut⊠youâll forgive me for it?â
âNothing to forgive you for.â You match the tilting motion of his head, but in the opposite direction. You blink slowly. âExcept maybe for the fact that you provide so much love without giving much of it to yourself.â
When he downs the knot in his throat again, it feels and looks different. Not the insecure envy from before, but rather a truth spiking his heart.
ââŠDarling,â he whispers, âwhy?â
âYou know as well as I know that you trust me. Thatâs not why youâre afraid, right? Itâs because you donât trust yourself.â You remove a strand of dark tresses off his forehead. âWeâll change that.â
You donât judge him for it, huh? You could. In truth, you could absolutely distance yourself from such an unwanted trait, but you donât. Combatting it seems easier to you.
Yet, he canât find a better answer than, âIâm sorry.â
Your husband is a jealous man, but heâs also a fragile man. Youâre not allowed to leave him; not because you regard it as a duty to serve as his remedy. But because you made a vow to love him regardless, regardless of fateâs cruelty.
And.
You want to show him what you see through your eyes; what he doesnât notice through the looking glass.
âThank you for forgiving me, though?â he then speaks, forming it as a question rather than a statement; though he finds himself pretty soon. âAlbeit, I have to say, if you hadnât, I wouldâve found ways for you to do it either waââ
His promise is broken by your yelp when he presses you in, tickling your waist. He grits his teeth, cuteness aggression kicking in when you call his name, holding onto his face. Your nose inches close to his as he squeezes your hip.
Eyes closing before they open again and he says, âI will never let you go. Never. And let nobody ever have you but me.â
âArenât we a little more obsessed tonight?â you jest, watching him shrug his shoulders. âBut. I would be mad if you did.â
âMy princessâŠâ
Thereâs something about the breathy tone, filled with growing desire, a not too subtle hint to how the night will inevitably evolve.
Itâs insane, how the breathing stagnates when youâre in love; crazy at just the prospect of lips touching.
And once they do, your lungs dry out right away, and you lean back, slowly losing your grip. But he holds you and holds you tighter, eyes aflame with sheer willpower, and then holds you so tight, it hurtsâŠ
The kiss is breathtaking, in the truest sense of the word. Goosebumps covering all your flesh, you raise your shoulders, hands in his hair as his wander along the lines of your body. He moves just a little underneath you, but you feel the change so obviously.
Harder, stirring, hot and heavy. And you enhance the effect, continuing the sloppy kisses until he, impatiently, breaks away from the kiss with a quiet moan and opts for your neck.
The break between the change, he uses to focus on his hands. Raises your dress at light-speed, brushing his palms over the curves of your ass. And he doesnât take too long before heâs snuck his digits further in this complicated position, winding his arm to find your aching heat.
You move forward a little, helping out, so his limb can wrap around you easier, digits floating to the hole. But your decision distracts him; you laugh.
âItâs amusing to you, yes? Having your tits in my face,â he teases, as shameless as ever when he bites and misses your nipple by an inch over your gown.
The free hand pushes the clothing down, freeing one side, reluctant to practise restraint when swollen lips engulf your hard nipple. You whimper immediately as his teeth gently nibble at the nerves, and you tighten your grip around him, head falling back.
âCannot say itâs not,â you admit, unconsciously toying with the hair in the nape of his neck until you start pulling, barely noticing. He does, however, gasping with a mouthful of your tits. âSorry.â
He shakes his head, an indicator that he doesnât care; that he enjoys the pleasurable pain if itâs you inflicting it in a moment like this. As a masochist and a pet at times, you wonât disagree.
But you donât hold the power for too long when he continues with his intentions, finger pressing against your pussy, desperately longing for the garment to disappear. Wanting to sink into you with all his might.
But⊠endurance. Patience.
You nearly suffocate him in your tits as he caresses your cunt, and then your ass again, only managing to resurface to say, âPretty girl⊠werenât you tired?â
âI was,â you tug at him, wanting him much, much closer, âmake me more.â
âMore tired?â
âSo I sleep better tonight.â
âSweetheart⊠you will. I promise you.â
Itâs vows like these that stir the last stage of lust in you, so unbridled that it leaks out of each of your pores. You want his trousers off, want them to magically disappear. But sorcery doesnât exist, and your wish will be impossible to fulfil in this position.
And he notices, reads your thoughts as if floating above your head. âLift your body?â he kindly demands, holding you for a second until youâre inches over his crotch. He uses the moment to lower his clothing along with the underwear, suddenly half bare.
Oh so bareâŠ
When you look down, youâre met with protruding veins, a length twitching slightly, wanting to lay against his stomach. And you donât hesitate as you lower yourself again, dragging your clothed pussy over the hardness so recklesslyâ
But the harsh material of your clothes rubs him wrong, literally, and he whimpers. Should you do it again? You fucking love it when he whines and writhes⊠but not in such a way.
You donât want to hurt him. So you oblige. Stop when he digs his nails into your waist, ordering, âGet off, so I canââ
You donât know what for, but you can imagine, and the thousand possible pictures are more than enough for you to lift yourself off immediately. Carefully, you move away, expecting for him to let you know how to continue, but insteadâŠ
Within the blink of an eye, you find yourself flat on your back, flipped over and caged in. Only rising again when he aids you in doing so, just the upper body, just a little. To remove your dress, pulling it over your head and stuffing it in a corner.
You swear the time passes in slow-motion, yet simultaneously paces faster than usual. Because itâs a leisurely blur when you see him discard the last piece of your bed-attire. But a rush when he bares his golden chest and back, laying next to you and starting to kiss your tummy.
Itâs so funny becauseâŠ
You sigh. Nevermind.
You put your attention solely on how he kisses his way down, still next to you, further down until you only see his back and his mane, and somewhere far beneath, hands caressing your thighs. Then spreading them. And then, working up⊠up towardsâŠ
âYouâre defeating me todayâŠâ you happily conclude, not one to reject a night with him winding under you, but also not one to decline⊠whatever heâs doing right now.
âYou are very welcome.â
Cheeky jerk. Youâd snort and roll your eyes if you had the energy and power to. Although, the latter does not stay absent after all, even if the roll of your eyes occurs backwards, mouth open when he parts your folds and touches your swollen nub.
Gauging your reaction, he throws a stare back, just briefly and quickly. He barely flinches when you pierce his skin with your nails, scratching him, biting your lower lip with desperation in your pupils.
And itâs enough for him. Boosts his keenness. You see it in his smirk, and see the desire, the devotion, the appetite in his lost eyes.Â
He cocks an eyebrow at you, never bothered by your frequent love-wounds, yet sly when he warns, referring to your nails, âStop it. I will tie you up if you keep going.â
Is that⊠a threat or a promise? Youâre tempted to test him.
But for now, you wish to indulge further in what heâs initiating, and if you said something right now or provoked him into a pace of change, youâd lose the moment. So you remain still. Or, as much as you manage to.
Not quite when he moves over you, turning the back towards you once more, andâ
Is that⊠oh. No doubt that he just spat right onto your clit, wet, warm and enhancing your greed. And then the damned finger. Touching your thighs as if to tease you, advancing to your cunt slowly, as opposed to the ball of frustration building in your chest and tummy.
âCould you move that up?â you mutter, barely registering how nonsensical you might sound.
But Jungkook knows you inside out, and reads your words as well as your body. Uses the knowledge to torture you some more, sneaking to your folds before he finally touches them, but doesnât dig in.
OkayâŠ
âWhy?â you ask, not expecting an answer. âIâve been good these days.â
âYouâve been great,â Jungkook retorts, tugging at one of your nether lips as if busying himself, âbut Iâm just kidding. Who am I to deny you anything?â
âIn this situation? Perfectly Jeon JungkookâŠâ
The unsteady breathing accompanying your statement adds to the comedic aspect of the moment, and he doesnât hold back when he laughs. Only briefly stopping when he leans down, delivering a chaste kiss to your aching bud.
And then he does the unforgivable, and lifts himself up. Away from you. Entirely.
âWhatââ
âItâs alright,â he ensures, nodding as if to make it believable for himself, âI am right here. See?â
He crawls â crawls! â towards you, very briefly until he reaches your lips, kissing you with the same filthy mouth that touched your intimate part just a moment ago. His mouth moves against yours just a little, then retracts and then comes back for another shorter kiss.
âWant me to do it?â he asks.
âDo what?â
âTie you up?â The constant head tilts are killing you, not well for your heart or mind. Even less combined with the sickly sweet smile, so awfully in love. âYou didnât reject the idea and,â another kiss to the corner of your lips, âyouâre being so terribly cooperative tonight.â
He says it as if itâs news to him. As if youâre not true-blue every second of the day.
Jerk wants things spelled out to him. Waits as he plays with a lock, face hovering inches from yours, and the tip of his tongue so visibly touching the spot behind his front teeth.Â
As you refuse to answer, however, solely for the purpose to gauge what he might do next, he chuckles quietly, inhaling before he says, âAlright. Different idea, then.â
He gets back on his knees, straightening his upper body for a mere moment only before he opens your legs. Positions himself between them. Distances himself from you before finally getting into the desired stance. Stomach-down, hands touching your thighs, parting them with his mouth close to you.
It takes everything in you to not shut your limbs again when the warm breath mingles with your sloppy centre; and you already feel wasted when his tongue darts out. Opens up your pussy a little. Tickles you so lightly.
âPut your hands over your head,â he uses the pause for, haphazardly gesturing into your general direction with his chin, âno touching allowed. And if you endure until Iâve tasted you till the end, Iâll do whatever you want for the rest of the night.â
âPut your hands over your head,â he uses the pause for, haphazardly gesturing into your general direction with his chin, âno touching allowed. And if you endure until Iâve tasted you till the end, Iâll do whatever you want for the rest of the night.â
The image his words conjure is mesmerising. Yet, you donât know if thatâs the outcome youâre wishing for, or rather the absolute opposite, submitting to him and letting yourself go entirely for his pleasure.
There is no time to think. Your mind isnât capable of thoughts at all.
Of course not, not if he attaches his mouth to your cunt, wrapping gorgeously soft and swollen lips around your equally soft and swollen ones. He kisses your pussy, drawing back with a smooching sound.
Goes in again, repeats. Then, slowly, adds his tongue. Swirls it around your clit, making your right leg twitch, your body react. A strong hand holds your thigh down, breath falling against you so hotly; the sensation is unlike anything else.
You donât know how he does it; but you donât just feel the tickling, endlessly lustful phenomenon where he causes it, but across your body. On your warm skin, in your stomach, in your chest.
Youâre light-headed when his tongue flicks over your clit again, and then moves back to your hole; you curl in your toes. For the first time after a long while, you think this wonât take very long.
Digging your nails into your palms, you wet your lower lip with your tongue, uttering, âIâm almost thereâŠâ
âMhm,â he muses with his mouth still licking you up, spreading the warm feeling all over. Then detaches himself to say, âI thought so. I can hear it.â
Knows you too wellâŠ
You recognise that he wants to take his time. Your pleasure is his sole purpose, fully focused on your reactions, your sounds, your winding body. But as the two of you deduced, youâre closer to the end than ever.
He kisses your thigh, provides little love-bites, tongue tasting your skin before he dives back in. Breathing in and out through his nose, he buries himself in you, bringing a thumb under his tongue and pushing in just a bit, but not entirely.
At the same time, his other thumb shifts its attention to rolling over your clit. Apparently, he trusts you enough now to not pin your legs to the mattress anymore, doesnât expect you to give in and touch him, even if you want to. The way youâre holding yourself back, seeking your pleasure and obeying his orders floods pride and immeasurable greed through him.
As he French kisses you thoroughly, you notice when he smiles against your pussy. Even laughs a bit in amusement. Your body moves and lifts when his light but calculated touch toys with your nerves; he follows the insane writhing, glued to you.
And then he pushes a finger inside, pumps a couple times; moves his tongue to your clit. Itâs crazy. Crazy. The saliva dripping off his chin when he eats you up, so diligent and powerful, executing this as perfectly as ever.
But itâs neither of these things that make you topple off the edge; not just the fingers or his tongue or how worryingly good he is at this.
But the damn eye contact at the end.
The immediate connection between you, the way he wants to see you, understand your reactions, but simultaneously keep going.
And all that knowledge helps you feel it all over. The contractions coming in waves; the pleasure radiating to every other part of your body. The sense of warmth and tingling experience.
Shit, and the euphoria. The profound relaxation while perceiving the increased heart rate at the same time; your glowing skin and the sweat.
And once youâre done, throat dry from not speaking, only yelling, you breathe, âThat was⊠quick.â
âI am sorry,â he responds, still exhaling against you; you still feel the waves inside your cunt, so itâs hard to listen. âI needed to let my frustration out somewhere.â
You half-roll your eyes, as much as manageable.
âBut in exchange⊠Iâll hold my promise and let you do anything,â he repeats, rubbing your leg and then your sides softly. Slowly moves up to you until his length presses against your heat and his lips align with your mouth. âCan I just firstâŠâ
âLove,â you interrupt, âyou donât need to. You donât need to hold your promise, because I donât want you to. Not tonight.â
âWhat?â
âI want you to let it all out,â you confess, âclaim me.â
Because frankly, you see it in his eyes. That he wants to release the beast, too. Of course ready for your ministrations, but yearning to wreck you so desperately. Already in the headspace, affected from the moment he licked you dry and wetter.
âI promised,â he tries, but you shake your head, still breathing stagnantly.
âI⊠So I⊠May I?â he still inquires permission, stuttering, so gentle, polite and tormented. âGoodness. I might die.â
You chuckle at the hyperbole, though the sound comes out weak as you still breathe through your craze. As you stare up at him, you think you recognise pure anguish reflecting in his gaze, made visible by the candlelight. Eyebrows kissing, mouth open.Â
You feel similar, so youâre not one to turn down the plea.
âYes, but⊠I mean it. You donât need to submit entirely. I want you to do what you want to do.â
Because thatâs when heâs the most authentic. And because the statement never poses a risk with Jungkook. Any other man might forsake you, but you could say such a thing a thousand times; even as he seeks his own pleasure, he wonât forget about yours.
And unleash all desperation on you simultaneously.
You want this. You want this.
âFret not,â he assures, âI will. I am not neglecting either of us.â
Lining himself up, he sits up properly, starting a languid movement of the head of his length up and down your pussy. He means to tease you just a bit longer, wanting to test your reaction to the thickness rubbing between your folds.
But you see the surprise in his face when his cock threatens to slip in the moment it reaches your hole, even though there is no reason for his bafflement. Doesnât he know what he does to you?
âOhâŠâ he murmurs, trying again, once again watching just a few inches disappear inside you before he pulls back. âThat is⊠nice.â
In, then out again. Once more, in. Once more, out.
Then a tap of his heavy cock against your pelvis, stroking it in the process for further hardness, and you observe. Fully undisturbed and entirely amazed by what youâre seeing. Every single time.
You let him touch himself, and then close your eyes to listen to his sounds. But he soon leans into you again, whispering to keep them open, and when you do, he uses the proximity to kiss you again.
Harder this time. Moaning as he jerks himself off. A second longer until he brings it back to your pussy, and you raise your back off the mattress a little when he pushes the head in. Whimpering into the kiss, never having him back away.
You grip his shoulders for safety, trying not to go insane, and right before he parts from you, he nods. Asking, âYes?â
âPlease.â
âShall I?â
âPlease start.â
âStart⊠if you want me to fuck you numb, I will. Right until your mind is vacant of everything else. Will fuck all of me into you. Yes?â You take a shaky breath, barely nodding, but he sees and laughs quietly. âI need every lord to know to keep their hands off just by the way you walk.â
The nod turns into a shake of your head, and as he presses in further, you try to whisper, âThat would be⊠incredibly scandalous, my love.â
âOh? What difference does it make? The entire house always knows when I do these things with you.â
âDo theyââ
âThe staff always whispers. And they pay extra attention to you. Always lurking and trying to see if something changes about you. Iâve heard them, you know?â
Oh⊠oh, you know what he means. Of course you do. Perhaps youâre not the only one dreaming of a blooming future with him, of seeds being planted and growing into this family of yours.
The entire place must be waiting for the announcement to arrive one day.
RightâŠ
âThenâŠâ you start, interrupting yourself to press your lips together, muffling your moan when you feel him bottom out. âThen do not hold back now either. I want you to.â
âTo hold myself back?â
âNo.â
âWant what then, darling?â
âTo fuck my mind numb of thoughts. And my legs of any feeling.â
Abruptly, he pulls out. Then, all of a sudden in again, all at once. Youâre cross-eyed when you moan, and he more or less falls onto you as you pull him in, resisting the urge to bite into his shoulder as he nuzzles your neck.
A hand settles under your knee, raising one leg over his waist, starting to move. Messily, he licks and kisses your neck, continuing at your jawline, and then down to your clavicles. Fucks you lovingly enough to light a fire in you.
His hanging strands tickle your skin, damp from the sweat much like his forehead. His greedy sounds are crazy against your collarbones, and then decrease in volume when his lips wrap around your nipple once again.
âSweetheart,â he mutters.
âMhhâŠâ
âThis is not enough, is it?â No, it isnât. He barely needs to speak on for you to momentarily shake your head, but he does, and it adds to your madness. âNot enough to disable straight walkingâŠâ
âYes. No, yesââ
You mewl embarrassingly when he slides his cock out again; you see so much more of him outside of you than fucking necessary.
And God. God, you hate it when he presumably accidentally retracts it fully. Silently complaining, you sigh with worried eyebrows, but he finds his way back to you easily. Itâd be odd if he didnât. You suck him in effortlessly.
And he seems to enjoy it. Seems to seek an end to his goal, still keeping his previous question in mind, and thenâ
Your thighs quiver when he pushes in with all his power, all at once and as deeply as physically possible, and your eyes shut so hard that they hurt.
âWould you look at these titsâŠâ you hear him say, forcing yourself to look at him again, fluttering your eyelids open.
And as sassily as your foggy brain allows, you respond, âI am looking, as well.â
At small, brown, constantly hard nipples. You want to touch them, kiss and bite them. Want to destroy him as much as heâs intending to destroy you. But you can barely move.
How could you if this time, when he returns to his ministrations, he turns entirely, irrevocably, positively merciless.
He gently falls forwards, holding you as he did before, but this time, when he hammers into you, the entire bed shakes. You raise your arm over your head, holding onto the railing for a second, inspecting how far away your head remains from it.
But Jungkook is attentive, and you only notice a second later that his palm is covering your head, keeping it from bumping against the railing. So you remove your hands from it, letting it glide over his smooth back again, sweat-covered and hot now.
Heâs a monster, this man. Or perhaps, you make him a monster. You want to believe youâre the sole reason he forgets the universe like this; pounds into you, causing your body to move up and down the mattress, just because youâre the weakest spot he has.
Of course you are. Of course.Â
So obvious when he confesses for the millionth time, âI love you.â Muffled, but clearer when he moves to look at you, expression beyond words as he repeats, âI love you so much.â
âAnd I you, my love.â
Strange. So strange how you never wouldâve imagined yourself saying such a thing just a few years ago. How you avoided him, took a different path than him, never voluntarily meeting his eyes.
The words floating between you urge him to slow down for the moment; he attempts to take you in, to memorise you. Lets his eyes flit from your mouth over your nose to your pupils. Touches your cheek.
And the slower pace allows you to speak a bit more properly, even though you canât help but feel distracted when he drops his head some to peck your skin.
âIt⊠it has not been more than two years, has it? When we still despised each other.â
His kiss burns scars into your shoulder, hotter than hellfire. A raspy voice murmurs, âThe world changes in mysterious ways.â
âMmmhââ
It does. So does your mind. Because why is it that the most utterly sweet romance births the wildest of desires?
âAnd⊠Maybe that is what you need to unleash tonight, Kook. Perhaps I need it, tooââ You shudder when he hums. His digits are still restless on your face, sliding up and down; not knowing what to caress. âWhat if you fucked me like you still hated me?â
âI⊠would that⊠You want that? I cannot even act as if I hate you, though.â
âTry it. I want you to.â
Jungkook remains speechless for too long, still comprehending your words, clearly torn between adhering to your wishes and worshipping you with the same adoration as you give out.
But as you so faintly mouth a hushed Please, you diffuse something in his brain. Inexplicably, because the rush of sensations, while never absent, feels new each time he touches you.
Perhaps thatâs why he never gets enough of you; you hang a new star onto the sky every day, a new moon every night. Alternating every moment and refusing to leave a single one bland.
Heâd be damned if he didnât give the same excitement back to you.
Pushing his body up, he kneels above you, slipping out of you bit by bit as he grips your left knee. He shifts your limb, changing the position until youâre laying sideways, somewhat twisted.
You see the fleeting glimpse of pride as he slides back home and you mewl, soon squinting your eyes shut because shit â whatever you were doing before doesnât compare to the tightness the shift allows. How your legs are nearly closed, allowing for much more friction.
Youâre wrapped around him so fucking well, reminiscent of old key-to-its-lock-metaphors; and he feels infinitely closer to you. Possibly having a harder time than you, even.
The drag of his cock is endless as he begins, still too gentle, but effective enough. Your hands seek a place to hold onto, immediately opting for his leg; but he doesnât seem to dig the idea as much.
âLet go,â he orders, not quite waiting for you to oblige before heâs captured your arm harshly and removed your touch, pinning it to your hip. âSame as before. No touching or Iâll stopââ The thrust he delivers isnât quick, but relentless and hard; deep to the hilt. ââthis. I donât care if you cry or complain then.â
ShitâŠ
Heâs started. And heâs playing the act well. In your drowsy idiocy, you canât help but wonder how the two of you wouldâve fared if youâd turned your hate into lust much earlier. If you hadnât used the time to despise each other, but transform it into this kind of energy.
Of course it is stupid to retort to such fantasies. Back then, you were disgusted by his personality, irritated by the way the two of you treated each other. There wouldâve been no scenario in which he wouldâve landed balls-deep in you.
But fuck, does the image prompt something in you.
You donât bother for an answer, reckoning that the quiver of your lower lip might suffice, but⊠seemingly, not for him. Because he presses into your wrist harder before moving it to your back.
Yelping, you nearly stuff your face in the pillow, not entirely realising his next moves until you open your eyes again. See his mouth floating right over your ear. So close to you, pushing your damp hair back, whispering ominously, âAre you not fucking hearing me? Do you not understand?â
âIâŠâ Goddamn it. Is he gritting his teeth? Playing his aggression so well? Or does it derive from the sheer lust he canât contain? âI hear you. I understand.â
âWhat did I say?â
âNo touching.â
The fingers stroking your strands back are more tender than his words, rewarding you with caresses as he continues just a tad softer, âWas that so difficult?â
He leaves you with another squeeze of your tits, moving his knees on the mattress to draw closer to your body. To bury himself further into you, leaving no spot untouched. And then, perfectly in character, claims, âLooking as pathetic as years ago, arenât you? Probably dreamed of fucking me then, too.â
Wowâ
Regarding the assignment with absolute diligence, it seems.
Even more cruel when he slips out of you so casually, so easily, despite adjusting to the position a mere moment ago. For a good purpose, however â because his digits replace his rock hard, soaked cock not soon after, testing the situation with languidly slow pumps.
They feel so different from his length; so⊠inadequate. You desire so much more. Back to where you were a minute ago. Itâs⊠so hard not to touch him.
But if you begged for it now, would he give in? Or rather hold onto your previous idea?
You can try.
âKookâŠâ you whisper carefully, albeit immediately noticing how his breathing overshadows the word. You attempt again, âKook.â This time, he hears. âPlease. Need more? Please.â
âAsking for mercy all of a sudden⊠you cannot be serious.â
âIâŠâ
âYouâre lucky I do, too, you see? Need more.â Firmly, he lets a heavy hand fall to your ass, moving it up before your surprised squeal leaves you, and pushes at your back; your body flat on your stomach. âOr youâd long be sprawled over my lap.â
One of your dangerous traits is that youâre constantly tempted to test him. To act out, to follow his little warnings. Then again, he already provides enough; already at a hundred percent.
Like now, when he returns with the intent to wear you out. Wrecking you from the moment his cock intrudes again, falling in so smoothly that itâs almost embarrassing.
He starts right away. Pants a couple seconds later, matching your squeaks, probably delighted by your desperation as you hold, nearly rip the sheets.Â
Tired, he leans in, chest closer to your back, and uses the nape of your neck as leverage to move easier. Wrapping a hand around it, pressing you down, hearing you whine and sniffle against the pillow.
You cannot recall the last time he fucked you this brutally. Snapping against your ass, letting all of the massiveness he sports disappear inside you. You donât know what surprises you more â his stamina or the fact that you can take him this well at all.
But even Jeon Jungkook has his limits. You hear the approaching end in the way he sounds, breathing irregular and words incoherent. How broken his sounds are, high-pitched and absolutely unhinged. How his thrusts are slower now, indicative of his fatigue.
You know heâs close. But when he doesnât slow down but stops altogether, you know he doesnât want to be.
Refusing the orgasm, he pulls out for the nth time, much, much to your chagrin. With a dry throat, perspiring skin and droopy eyes, he delivers a harmless smack to your ass, and says, âGet up. Your turn to work on this.â
And with that, he means making himself comfortable against the back of the bed; letting the muscles of his arms bulge when he lifts them; using both hands to card through his hair, bringing some order into his messy mane.
Then, watching as you sit up, crawling on all fours and nearing his awaiting body.
Your gaze falls to his lap right away as you inch closer. To the shiny, wet member, secured in his fist, moving in it just a little, so as not to explode prematurely. Reserving it for you, and you only.
Such a giant. Towering. Thick enough for you to once again wonder if you can truly fit this inside you. Jungkook is gifted in every way.
And itâs not just the package heâs so proudly touching right now; itâs all of him. The golden skin, the thick thighs, the firm chest and the moles across his body. How his plush lips part further, the more your warmth nears.
Ready for you when you donât take a seat right away but instead, steer straight towards his mouth, seeking a kiss you so hopelessly need. And for a second, he falls weak to your actions.
Only, until he suddenly yanks you back by your hair, probably reluctantly becauseâŠ
Even now, his face draws to yours like a magnet, wanting more. Resisting. Extending the misery.
âSit down,â he instructs, hitting your hanging tits. âNow.â
You do.
You do as quickly as you can; even rolling back your eyes, throwing back your head, unconsciously submitting to the reflex of gripping his shoulders. Bad idea â because he snatches your wrists, working to bring your arms behind your back again. Away from his body.
âWithout this. Start.â
You try. You drag your pussy along his cock, up and then back down again; give yourself time to actually take in every little bit of him and how he makes you feel. The muscles of your legs and upper body are in full swing, exhausting your capacities.
But youâll admit that itâs hard; not because your limbs have turned as wobbly as is usual with this beast, but because youâre awfully out of balance.
As he holds you captive, youâre struggling with the stance, even when he pulls your chest to his, melting the two of you. You donât voice the difficulty yet, keen on observing his reactions; enduring the tremble of your body.
âSo incredibly cooperative,â he repeats, âwe make a strong pair, donât we?â
Tease. Tease. Taking advantage of how much you crave praise.
You cannot pinpoint whether youâre coveting his appetite particularly strongly these days, or whether heâs just now awoken desires unknown to you so far â but his advances leave you salivating. Make you hunger for more.
Odd how you didnât know youâd enjoy it if he gripped a patch of your hair as he is now, shaking your head, face close enough to you to repeatedly graze his lips against yours. Or that you could tighten around him like this the moment his fingers dig into your cheeks, holding you like an enemy.
âMmmmh, you are pretty,â he hums, delivering two light slaps to your cheek. He hisses when he feels you constrict again, trapping his cock between your drenched walls, only able to whisper multiple fucked-out, âPretty, pretty, pretty.â
His fitful breathing doesnât allow for much interruption of his air flow; his chest is heaving and he seems far more spent than he did in the beginning. But heâs never ready to stop or wave the white flag.
Still succumbing to said hurdles when his lips dash forward, instantly blending his taste with yours as his tongue snakes around yours. His lips move against yours with ferocity and determination. Teeth bite your lower lip softly, giving his aggression a soft outlet.
And it seems to you that he might not pull his claws in again tonight, unleashing all the savage fierceness his lust and envy combine into. Perhaps this will turn into the most ruthless night just yet.
But youâre wrong.
And for once tonight, you donât mind the 180 turn.
Because the moment he surfaces from the kiss to catch his breath, you use the pause to whisper his name. With a gentle shudder, kissing eyebrows and half-open eyes, you bring your forehead to his, and all of a sudden, he lets you go.
You donât understand why until you look at him again. Blinking innocently, still not touching him properly, but carefully bringing your fingertips to his legs. The crease between your eyebrows vanishes, allowing them to rise, and you echo, âKookieâŠ?â
Thatâs all it takes. You might be hallucinating, but you think you see something in him break. Something shifting back into place, as if heâs going through a change, returning to himself after separating from his mind for a bit.
And he slows down. The dizzying brutality of his pounding leaving you drooling turns into something friendlier. A welcome alteration butâŠ
The change in pace surprises you. Not even inspecting his expressions helps you understand what he might be thinking, what he might be intending to do next. Heâs unpredictable in moments like these.
He might turn the tides. Or he might return to his demonic self.
What you donât realise is how your eyes affect his thumping heart so badly; how you emanate sweetness with all of your being, and how you make this played aggression nearly impossible.
Rendered hypnotised, he understands thatâs enough for tonight. This isnât the true nature the two of you share. What was it again in simple, human words, never enough to describe the celestial feeling within?
In love. Devoted. Ready to do anything. And so, so beautiful.
Jungkook cradles your face, gently massaging the back of your head. His thumb touches your cheek as if youâre fragile, careful to keep you together now and forever. Youâre tenderness personified; the object of all his desires.
The definition of a treasure to be protected. And you areâ
âYouâre the kind of person to kill for.â His warmth breathes into your face when his lips ghost in front of yours, words sugary when he admits, âI cannot do this like I hate you. Because I donât.â
âŠIf there is one thing aside from you that your husband will remain loyal to forever, itâs his feelings. Not only towards you, but everything he regards the world with.
He always claims he hid most of himself before he met you, but youâre convinced he never stopped being the person he is. That he was merely believing in what others wanted him to believe.
Thatâs all.
Even now, as his touch falls to the small of your back, he refuses to deny the fondness and care that has grown in his heart, right around your name sheltered in there.
You swallow thickly, touching his waist, and shake your head, âThen donât. Do it just how you mean it.â
He nods, bringing his fingers back to yours and lifting them as he asks, âWould you like to touch me again?â
âWill you let me?â
A kind laugh meets your curious, yet genuine question. He places your hands on his shoulder, jesting, âImagine⊠having the power over you to decide whether to let you or not.âÂ
Bringing his own fingers to your ass, he moves you a bit, and with that, his hardness inside you. âI love it when you are desperate like this, my love. But.â You moan when he urges you to move. âSo am I.â
âJungkook⊠Iâm yours. You can do whatever you want.â
âI can, right? Andâ in return, I can be whatever you need me to be, too.â
Yours â thatâs all. All of him.
The arms you finally touch, up to his shoulders, neck and jaw. The soft lips heâs kept parted ever since you started. The mole on his nose, under his mouth, near his jawline. The kiss he shares with you and the hands clamping at your body.
How he fucks you with a passion youâre certain is reserved for nobody in this world but you. Youâre selfish like this; you donât believe anybody loves like that.
Itâs all yours; thatâs what you need him to be.
You murmur his name repeatedly, and he pecks your neck dryly. Your sounds change as you near the end, feeling a bubbling sensation in your stomach pleading to be released. Impatiently, you lean back, planting your hands to the mattress, face towards the ceiling.
Jungkook uses the position to latch onto your nipples, fucking you harder now, even if not with the same craze as before. He knows your body; he knows it so well. So youâre not surprised, yet gasping when he brings a finger to your clit, hitting and touching the right stops over and over and over again.
Your body winds on top of him as the chaos inside you unfolds, your shoulders sinking, eyes in the back of your head, upper body so fucking weak. And as he massages circles onto your clit, never rough, and murmurs against your jaw, you lose your mind.
âYouâre my love. Gorgeous, beautiful sweetheart. I want to see⊠this every night.â
Doesnât he know he will all his life? Doesnât he know youâve surrendered every piece of you to him?
Fuck. Fuckâ
The knot uncoils the moment he utters the last word, voice dulcet and hazy, so loving and breathy. Your arms give out, threatening to let your body fall, and you rush to find an anchor in his shoulders, holding him, embracing him within a second.
Without a single thought ahead, you blurt, âIâllâ Iâll never want anyone but you. Never.â
âYouâre all I know, baby,â he responds in kind, holding you the same, a confession between each kiss to your neck, âI love you. D-did you know? I love you. Love you. Love you so much.â
And God, do you love him.
The waves crashing over you are metres-high, and theyâre drowning you ocean-deep. Why does this feel new and crushing every single time? Heâs helped you experience this a hundred times. Nobody ever has before.
But you never get used to this. Not to how hard your pussy tightens and loosens over and over again, how your body becomes weightless, needing to be kept upright. How your stomach feels much more free, like youâve gone through an epiphany.
The world sparkles. You feel ridiculous, alone in your head with these thoughts, but youâre above clouds, and the stars sparkle. What the hellâŠ
âH-how much?â you ask, gripping his black hair, dizzy.Â
âYou cannot ask me. I have no fucking idea,â he curses, âI wish I could measure it, you see? Wish I could show you better. Tell you. Write it in a book.â
Youâre fond of books; but he doesnât know thereâs no need for him to create a story, because heâs one himself. Isnât he? A chapter after another.
He lifts your face from his shoulder, making you look at him. Pushes your hair back, his stare fond. Crashes his lips against yours again before itâs his turn to let go.
Affected by your contractions, he moans against your cheek, closing his eyes before heâs shooting all that he kept back into you. Hot, wet and sticky, loads of it, requiring multiple pumps until heâs drained.
Then, falls back against the railing with you in tow, hiding in your chest as you keep him close to your heart. You touch his tresses, caressing his scalp, matching his breathing until your bodies wind down.
It takes endless minutes in each otherâs arms until the burning sensation all over your skin diminishes.
The room has grown darker now, candles burned halfway through. When you allow yourself a glimpse of him, the shadows are dancing across his features, hiding half his face. The light is so faint where it hits him, a gorgeous weak golden that still doesnât do his own teint justice.
You canât believe you get to keep this for a lifetime. That this is the very being you have the honour to wake up next to every single morning. That youâre the only one holding his heart, and that heâs the only one matching your soul.
Is this what it means to share everything with someone? To indulge in something far greater than love.
Which⊠reminds youâŠ
âJungkook,â you call, and he hums quietly, smiling through it. Eyelids falling, he listens as you ask, âKook, do you think I feelâ or look different?â
Thereâs a pause in your hushed conversation, a rise of eyebrows. If he wasnât so tired, heâd sound a lot more concerned, you reckon. Immediately question your thoughts.
Instead, he sounds weaker, yet confused when he mutters, ââŠWhy?â
âDo I?â
Another break in thought. This time to take you in. To lean in just a little, regard you carefully, to let his eyes drag over your being to detect the change you speak of.
But maybeâŠ
âI think you were quieter these days. In thoughts? I assumed it was the Jung thing. But,â he eventually says, âresponsibilities didnât allow me to be around much either. Did I⊠miss something?â
Were you quieter? Possibly.Â
Saying you were trapped in your thoughts is an understatement; if heâs figured something out without being around, itâs this much. The utter truth, a successful deduction. But was it the Hoseok rumours?
You canât yet say for sure. So you choose to not say anything at all.
Only, âThat might be it.â
âOther than that, howeverâŠâ he speaks, moving with a grunt. The hands on your hips are gentle as they instruct you to get up; and unbothered by the seed soon flowing out, he urges you to your back, face soon levitating above you. âYouâre still the same.â
A creature of habit, he wipes the drying locks out of your face, kissing the tip of your nose. Youâre almost entirely sure that you look like a proper mess â but itâs impossible to not believe him when he claims, âStill the same beautiful woman I fell in love with two years ago.â Another kiss to your eyelid. âStunning darling.â
âAre you still in love with me the same?â
âNo,â he immediately blurts, and if you didnât know him so well, youâd panic, âof course never the same. Always a little more.â
âMmmh. And I love you.â You touch the smooth surface of his back, drawing figures over the defined muscles. âSo. Does this prove that I wouldnât run away with some lord?â
He puts on the act of a thinker, purposely teasing you until you hit his bicep. Then, âYes. But does it prove you wonât run away with a stable boy?â
ââŠI hate you, Jeon Jungkook.â
The laugh he emits is genuine, so different from the troubled voice you heard less than an hour ago. His old jesting self, he refers to your awkward idea before, mentioning, âI know. You surely got that across tonight. And oh, how you kept looking at me. Pure hatreââ
âShut up. I gave myself to you tonight or you wouldâve begged and whimperedââ
âOh? How so? Tied me up, hm?â he mocks, fingers cautiously following the veins of your arms before heâs caught your wrists again. He lifts them over your head, trapping you again. âLike this?â
You laugh as his lips trace your neck, the tickling sensation not quite the same as the lust spreading before. Helplessly, you surrender, begging, âAlright. Okay. I apologise for saying that! If you keep going, I will be crawling tomorrow.â
âIs that so bad? Not having to tend to so many things?â
âYouâd make it worth it, Iâm certain.â
He lets you go the very next moment, sighing before he asks, âDo you feel alright? I was worried about going overboard.â
âNo, I am more than alright. Dog-tired but⊠this was perfect. I am a little happy you got jealous. Do you feel better, too?â
âI feel extraordinarily well.â He keeps his mouth open, pondering on saying more, but as you see his mind whir, you reckon another thought has replaced his previous statement. âI was not jealous. Merely worried.â
ââŠYou yourself have said you are a jealous man.â
âHave you got any evidence? I thought so.â Another snicker in a joyous night, setting the mood for your dreams. âBut. You are loved by many, and I admire you for that. And objectively I know I will always love you the most, but⊠itâs scary.â
âAh⊠what is, Kook?â
âKnowing that somebody might want to overtake me. To try better or make you reconsider.â
âThey couldnât. I do not have to tell you⊠you know me and you know I will be here.â
âGood. I know,â he assures, countless infinitesimal sparkles of yearning in his eyes. They glow even in the shadows of candlelight, even without flames. âI really want this with you.â
âWhat is that?â
ââŠEverything.â
Everything.
His thoughts are a repetition of your own. A confession of a forever. Which is why you understand so well what he means, not a single explanation necessary. Because you want it all, too.
Of all the facts existing in your realm and universe, this remains one that you could never doubt. And youâre trying to provide him with the same amount of everything, as well. You are.
Which is why the thought of disappointing him is so unbearable for the time being.
So for now, youâd rather avoid it by keeping your mouth shut just for a little longer.
For all the longing touches revealed last night, Jungkook was certain heâd meet a glowing face the next morning. Sparkly, familiar eyes, taking in all hallways despite already knowing them so well, pointing out a new detail each time as you love to do.
For all the affection revealed last night, he was sure heâd eliminated all doubts and sorrows, every piece of thought and afterthought left of the conversation about other lords and past love.
In such a sense, he finds himself cheerful in his office the following day, enduring the staffâs playful ridicules. Grateful about the comfortable atmosphere, the lightness of the morning. His humour runs off the charts and he catches himself snickering about his own jokes.
You left him bright at least. Hopeful and joyful, with a heart filled with so much love and craze that is barely comprehensible for a mortal mind.
When you stroll into his office with your hands folded, his dark gems glitter, lights dancing in his pupils. He didnât see much of you yet, despite from the tiny moment he left you sleeping in bed, kissing your shoulder and removing the lock off your face.
Tending to his duties, only torn away from you when he was urged to do so.
âGood morning,â you say in your sweetest voice, so small and soft.
And he hears the alteration in your words, so vastly different from last night. But your eyes look somewhat swollen, sleep still apparent in them, so itâs easy to give into the first instinct and blame a short night for your fatigue.
âGood morning, my love,â he responds, silencing as he nears your body, tenderly aligning your fingers and raising yours to his mouth.
As he kisses every knuckle, you ask, âWorking so early?â
âDid not choose to,â he murmurs in between pecks. He concludes the gesture with rubbing a thumb ever-so-gently against the back of your hand before he leads your palm to his face. âI can come back to you any moment, though.â
You smile, but the blinking of your eyes is slow, and your reserved stance grows. He finds it odd when you hesitate, but youâre faster than him when you speak, âNo, no. I didnât want to disturb you, please do what you need to do.â
âThen⊠keep me company?â
âI will, but later, yes? I was thinking of a brief outing.â
Itâs not unusual for you to seek fresh air or promenade along a nearby waterfront. Ever since you left town, youâve grown even fonder of nature. The blossoming flowers, the sun, the summer rain and the rainbows afterwards match your energy.
But your usual light is missing; you donât look quite downcast, but moreso worried about something. Your chest rises a bit too hard when you breathe in, and the nerves burn hotter when he asks, âWhere to?â
âJust nearby. Picking flowers.â
Maybe heâs thinking about it too hard. Maybe youâre honestly just drowsy and opting for the crisp air, hoping for it to clear your mind. And maybe your demeanour will have changed by the time you return.
Might at least just be worth the wait, right?
So he doesnât intervene with your thoughts, merely nodding. He leans into your tender palm, still resting on his warm cheek, and presses a careful kiss into it, as though a mistake could make you run away.
âSure,â he concurs at last, ârush back to me. And show me the flowers you collect, alright?â
Which you donât really oblige to, keeping a safe distance from his yearning, worried heart for an hour or two.
It becomes increasingly difficult to focus on work with you away; inquiring about you doesnât do much, because how could the staff within these walls know more than he does? Would you confide in them but not in him?
Are you afraid of something?
When the attention drifts off his work eventually and his gaze keeps switching to the view out the window, to a path that you might be walking, he plummets into his chair. Waits. Fiddling.Â
âDojoon,â he calls, immediately met with a guard outside the room, speaking to the stiff, polite form, âhas my wife returned yet? Have you seen Aza around?â
Denying his lordâs questions, Dojoon shakes his head, causing Jungkookâs chest to deflate, and informs him that no, he has neither noticed the presence of you nor of your chaperone.
Fitting, a timing so appropriate, because the guard has only nearly finished his sentence and increased Jungkookâs concerns when footsteps echo through the hallway outside. Jungkook cranes his neck momentarily, hoping for an end to his perturbation.
And at last, some deity seems to have heard his prayers, even if, in hindsight, he knows heâll probably have nothing to worry about. Youâve been away for longer, albeit usually announcing your departure more cheerily and with less uncertainty.
Which, to his pleasure, doesnât torture your expressions as much anymore as you finally enter the room. The hands are still folded, a shawl wrapped around your back and gracefully falling over your arms.
Youâre always so pretty; so stunning that he nearly forgets the issue on hand.
That your folded fingers donât carry anything.
Which is not too suspicious, it shouldnât be. You might have handed the flowers to somebody, might have hastened back into his room without thinking of his prior request.
But his paranoid mind has been wreaking havoc lately, and he hates, hates, hates it â yet, canât stop it.
So he despises the feeling in his chest when he asks, âWhere are the flowers?â
âIâŠâ you unfold your hands, inspecting your fingers as if you forgot they were vacant of said bloom. âStaff took them.â
Of course. Thatâs the most logical option, one he considered. So whyâŠ
He inches closer to you, nodding towards Dojoon and signalling for him to leave. As the guard exits right away, Jungkook lightly touches a strand of your hair, tucking it back as he so gently wonders, âWhere did you go, baby?âÂ
âJust out for a while. I told you before.â
âButâŠâ You swallow as he talks, nervous about something and suddenly fidgeting with your way too warm cashmere shawl. Only looking up when he breaks his barriers and asks, âWhatâs the matter?â
âWhat?â
âI do not know. You tell me. Whatâs the matter? Is it because of something we said last night? Or because ofâŠâ
There. He said it. Stupid unease that might prove wrong and oh-so-utterly and truly stupid soon.
Of course heâs had this in his mind. But somehow, heâs started to wonder⊠do you feel okay? Are you ill?
âWhat?â you echo, shaking your head. âNo. What are you sayingââ
âSomething must be bothering you, I reckon, and youâŠâ
âNo, I think I just,â you start, pausing, tonguing your cheek until you turn your body a little. Almost facing the door. âI probably only need more rest. I feel tired and you wore me out so much, you seeââ
Itâs meant as a joke, and heâs sure he even recognises a smile â but the mood wonât allow for otherwise very welcome jests. Before you can even reach for the door handle, he places a flat hand on the surface of the door, ensuring that Dojoon didnât leave it ajar even a tiny gap.
Half caged in, you look at him in disbelief, lips slightly parted as you say, âWonât you let me go out?â
âTalk to me, sweetheart.â The genuine distress in his expression hurts you; just because youâre so fearful of disappointing him, or putting him under more anxiety. No reason, no reason. âTell me whatâs going on.â
You want to. Itâs just â heâs been forlorn before. Youâve seen his lows and seen the reasons for it. Waded through parts of his pain with him. The news you want to deliver are merry and colossal, but you donât know if heâs ready.
And fuck. Youâre taking too long to answer, arenât you?
You are. You see it in his eyes. How they start to burn, how frustration grows so apparent in them. Never replacing the care and worries, but certainly furrowing his eyebrows the way he often does when irritated.
âWhatâs troubling you?â he tries again, keeping himself from snarling. âWhere did you go? Did you⊠did you see him somewhere? I apologise if I said or did something wrong last night. If I hurt you.â
Keeping himself from snapping. Because your eyes are so big, and your stare so innocent and you look so concerned for him rather than for yourself, and⊠andâŠ
Other than every reason in this universe, he canât bear to be mad at you.
âHm?â he voices.
âNo,â you finally reveal, âitâs not him at all.â
âI know⊠Of course I know. But what is it?â
You blow out air. âI amâŠâ
âYes,â he interjects when your pause proves longer than a moment, âare you ill? Oh goodness, this is nerve-wracking. I think I might faiââ
âJungkook,â you interrupt, both hands dashing to his arms. Heâs out of breath, unfiltered craze in his eyes, as if expecting the worst. So you free him of his misery, taking a deep breath, and then, outrightly, reveal, âIâm expecting.â
âŠThe world stills.
You hear it and you feel it; are certain that all movement has ceased, that the birds have halted mid-flight. That the wind has ebbed down. That the people down in the village have frozen in whatever state they were in before.
Selfishly, you believe that the centre of the world has shifted from the sun to right where youâre standing, right where the love of your life has paused. Where heâs looking at you and you only, barely blinking, out of words, lungs as dry as yours.
âMy loââ you start at the same time as he mumbles, âWhat?â
So you speak on, âI have not been bleeding. I went to consult the doctor andââ
âOutside? Where?â he asks, the memory and logic in his mind so disrupted that he finds himself in a state of utter bafflement and insanity. âWhy didnât you go to the mansionâsââ
âHe went to his family for the week. Do you remember?â
âRight⊠right. What did you⊠You just went?â
You nod. âSpoke to him about all the things I have been experiencing and heâs certain those are all signs for me expecting⊠it seems.â
ââŠYou didnât tell me.â
âBecause I wasnât sure. And I⊠I know how much this scares you, so I didnât want to stir chaos in case it turned out to be nothing.â
Which is a truth you werenât sure youâd be able to spell out. Jungkook has wanted children; he has mentioned it on several occasions. But ever since you fathomed his deepest fears, laying in a fatherless past and a sorrowful childhood, youâve been careful.
Heâs affected. He always has been. And perhaps youâll see glimpses of those very worries the more your pregnancy advances; letâs see.
For now, however, they donât seem to roam his mind.
Instead, he shakes his head, hints of an expression creeping onto his face that you know too well. The first sign of approaching tears; of a swelling heart. Of love growing so fondly and fast that it overflows.
Every single tongue-tied reaction gathers in eventual words when he summarises, âI barely know what to say.â And right there it is; underneath his eye, on the apple of his cheek. One single tear. And with it, a breaking voice. âI do not know what to say.â
But he knows what to do. And what he does is tilt his head, sighing into the stuffy air of the office, not bothering to wipe away the tears â and you canât either as he grips your hands. Smushes them in his. Calls forth your own liquid affection, blurring your vision.
And then youâre pulled off your spot, crushed in a long-overdue embrace. Before you know it, youâre safely secured in his arms, one a snake around your body, the other hand holding the back of your head as if you could disappear.
He hides his lips in your hair, still not able to put his thoughts into words. But he cries silently against you, leftover panic subsiding and giving way to raw sentiments.
âJungâ kookââ you hiccup, and he shakes his head, possibly keeping you from sobbing; yet, not faring better. âI apologise forâ for keeping it from yââ
âNo. No, youâŠâ he takes a deep breath, and you know without looking that heâs closing his eyes. Putting his chin on top of your head. âYouâre the only one whoâs ever cared like this. And shielded me like this. How do you care so much? No, I know. Because I do, tooâŠâ
His words turn into a murmur, and he swallows a syllable or two, but it doesnât matter. You hear his heart, and it speaks volumes without him needing to.
You could cry all your life. And you could love all your life.
âSo,â he adds, âwe are finally growing, yes? You and I and another. The only another we need, right? Fuck the rest of the world.â
You nod against his chest with a broken laugh, palms wandering further up from the small of his back, and you try to hold him as tight as heâs holding you.
There is no need for words and confessions anymore. There is no need for anything at all; just this very thing. And this very touch. These tender sounds of your sobs, ongoing until they turn into a light and quiet mingling of smiles and tear-filled laughter.
âI promise to you,â Jungkook finally says after a minute, his voice calmer, steadier, âI will do anything. Everything.â
Pause. Waiting to collect his thoughts. All those of lords and kings knocked out within a moment.
And thenâ
âI will do so much better.â
Over the course of the one year you have spent within the same walls as your husband, you havenât just learned how to share the same home but the same habits, too.
Some are deliberate â reading the Friday newspaper together in the morning; craving eggs on Saturdays; taking walks to wind down from the week on Sundays. They have become a reflex; unspoken activities you indulge in without the other pointing them out anymore.
Others developed accidentally â like, unconsciously counting the windows you pass in the long hallways, because you caught him doing it before. Or, not being able to sleep well unless you have bid each other a good night. Or â in such a case, seeking each other out once the other side of the bed feels too cold.
Itâs not rare for Jungkook, whoâs still learning to handle responsibilities, to overwork himself deep into the night. At times, you find him at the edge of the bed, still reading a document. On other days, you tap blindly along the walls of the mansion, meeting him in the library.
Tonight, itâs neither.
The place looks eerie, somewhat haunted in the dark. Still adjusting to the darkness, you stroll from room to room idly, trying to make out a light, or a shadow, a sighting of the man you woke up without.
It must be late; or incredibly early. You canât say when he awoke and skulked off; the sky is still pitch black outside, but sunrise might break in soon.
A few minutes later, akin to an eternity, you finally push the unlocked door to the study, lit by faint flames. Jungkook flinches when it squeaks open and you step in with featherlight steps. He nearly throws the book into the air, catching it as it threatens to slide off his knee.
The gentle heart only calms once it recognises you, taking a deep, shuddering breath in. He isnât angry; rather delighted to see your figure standing in the dark, in a long, white nightgown and big, worried eyes.
As much as heâs able to perceive from his spot, you look relieved, fingers fiddling, and he doesnât think he could love anybody more than you, ever. Not when youâre here steering towards your goal, obviously having scoured the mansion to find him.
âYouâre so light on your feet, love,â he faux-complains, tutting, âthought you were a ghost.â
âOh. A pretty ghost?â
âOne Iâd let haunt me any day.â
You let out a gentle laugh, stepping closer until youâre towering over him, âThey say one glows when with child.â
âIf you glow any more, thenâŠâ he whispers as you take a careful seat on his lap, simultaneously securing you there with an arm and covering his eyes. Charading being blinded by the light.
How dramatic.
Shaking your head, you take a look down to his fingers, following his touch until youâve opened the shut book to the page his thumb serves as a bookmark for. The cover isnât particularly telling, a mere title on it too small to read.
The chapter he was reading is an advanced one, the page starting in the middle of an ongoing sentence. but as most stories beloved to dreamy poets go, kindness prevailed in the end.
You donât ask for the content right away; rather, you wonder, âJungkook, why are you still up? And here of all places.â
The golden candlelight highlights the fatigue in his eyes â but it makes his heart-stirring smile evident, too. A note of pride resonates in his voice as he lifts the book, holding it towards you as if that doesnât worsen the lighting drastically.
âIt has lullabies and bedtime stories,â he says. You lean in, staring at the right page, and recognise colourful, faded illustrations. âFather used to read them to me. I remember how they shaped me, so Iâ I wanted to practice, too.â
No matter how many arrows Cupid shoots into your heart, Jungkook always seems to outdo the beneficent god. Heâs diligent in watering and growing the affection in you. Tending to your heart â just like that, effortlessly.
Despite your tired mind, your emotions are on overdrive; because of your tired mind, you, in the tone of a statement, repeat, âYou were preparing.â
âIs that odd?â he immediately blurts, a little too loud for the room. When you shake your head in denial, he nods in comfort. âI was afraid I was doing too much. This book helped. There is another one on parenting, but,â he reaches for his desk with a groan, putting another, smaller piece on top of the other one, âbut I feel like this advice is a given. Look.â
He flips through the pages, halting at one that outlines tips and tricks in imperatives. The first you lay eyes on is already one that proves his point, odd as you read aloud, "An affectionate household works wonders upon a young mind. Remember to, uhâ cultivate a serene and harmonious family atmosphere!"
âFair enough, is it not?â Jungkook jests, shutting the book again.
The smile he flashes, the one you never hesitate to join is a peculiar one. Utterly sweet, undeniably handsome; yet, strange, considering the history the two of you share.
You wonder once again.
When did he become this tender? The boy you knew, smirking so slyly, evil words shot towards you in a group of fellow pals â none of the damaging energy remains today. Today⊠sitting on this very lap, going into raptures.
Carrying his child.
Then again, people change, but never thoroughly. A basic foundation, the core that one is made of always healthily and steadily remains. Jungkookâs traits, the ones you have learned to love and cherish, were always part of him.
He just needed an outlet. Somebody to practise them on; a lifelong companion to pour the softness onto.
And things never end there. No, they go on and on, a flood of sparkly emotions. Like, when he gets into a more casual conversation now, never quite realising that his little statements are pulling you above clouds.
âI asked some of the staff about their experience with their children. Did you know some of them have young toddlers themselves?â
âMihee gave me a list of things to be careful about once birth comes around. It sounds painful, darling. You can do it, right?â
âYou can. Iâll be there, too. You can certainly do it better than I will, possibly.â
He tells you he has been working a little less these days; having struggles forming a clear thought. Informs you about his spontaneous and perhaps too early decision of planting a tree just for the child. Explains to you how to not hold a baby, the information courtesy of Mihee.
And then, he kisses your forehead, sucking in a breath as if shivering. He adjusts for a moment, never pushing you off his lap, and then eventually, quietly, admits, âIt is so frightening, as well, though, isnât it?â
âHm?â
âThis⊠this whole thing.â You gaze at him with gentle worry, suspecting whatâs to come, but he misinterprets it for doubt. âI am not anyhow indicating that I donât want this. Not at all. I wouldnât want it with anyone but you.â
You nod understandingly, clarifying that you never assumed such. But he continues, âStill, I canât help but wonder how well I will do.â
You could tell him that itâs a valid and often occurring worry. That no parent-to-be will ever dive into this with full confidence and a pure lack of insecurities. But you know why heâs saying this.
Not everyone has a dead father. Not everyone deals with an abusive household growing up. And not everyone was fed with doubts and deep-rooted issues that provoke such hesitant thoughts.
âIs that why you are reading books on parenting, my love?â you inquire, speaking slowly.
âI would guess so,â he answers, âI want to be there. Iâd hate it if I had to leave⊠you never know what might happen, you know? Or maybe, if I was here, yet tried too hard and then failed in the processââ
âFirst of all,â you interrupt, âdo not make me imagine a life without you. Second of all⊠we are thinking about it in such a theory. I reckon that⊠once you hold someone in your arms,â you put your head onto his, keeping him close, the free hand seeking his, âit feels more natural. Love happens naturally.â
âDoes it? I have never been a father before.â
You chuckle, âSo I hope! But. What was it like to love me? A process? Progress? Were you scared of loving me?â
âI was.â The answer is unexpected. Then again, itâs not. Certainly rapid, though. âYouâre an unstoppable force. Of course it is scary to love you. What if one messes up? Thatâs nothing that can be forgiven.â
âYou always speak too highly of me.â
âI am not blinded. I see it clearly and I mean every word. Loving you was frightening, but it developedâŠâ He removes his touch from your fingers, instead tracing up the skin of your arm until his digits skim your elbow; echoing, âNaturally.â
âMmmh. And does it ever feel like youâre trying too hard?â
âNo. Youâre right, it doesnât. It just happens.â
âSo,â you whisper, âwhoâs to say this will be different? And to tell you a secret: Youâre doing so amazing loving me. If you can give this one the same amount as you give me, we will be fine.â
He hums, nodding instantly. This must boost his confidence.
Heâd be a fool to ever doubt the sentiments he houses for you. He knows he loves you well, because he regards you as worth it. Because he vowed to provide to you what you deserve; the intensity of that adoration will never be subject to confusion.
âI will share another secret with you,â you clear your throat, shifting. âCan you imagine how terrifying it can be for a woman to leave home after so long? How, considering the role of the woman, the thought of living with a man can be intimidating?â
Jungkookâs head sinks in thought. Big eyes fixate on a random spot and a plump, rosy lower lip curls outward, pouting. Another hum before he does a head tilt and confesses, âI havenât thought about it yet. But⊠if I had a daughter and she left, I would be scared to death for her well-being.â
âYes. And she would be, as well. It can be difficult. But to tell you something⊠Despite my fears and the adjustments I needed to make here, I didnât fear for my well-being. I knew youâd take good care of me.â
You swallow, sighing when he leans in, lips close to your chest, âAnd if this is what you consider your nature, Jungkook⊠Then I do not think you have to worry about anything.â
âHmmm. This makes so much sense. You are such a bright woman, did you know?â he says, rubbing your arm, then your back. Buries his face in your breasts; his voice vibrates against you as he speaks, âYou are everything good. And incredibly smart.â
Thatâs what heâs saying. The true feelings run much deeper than that; you understand.
The sudden affection that washes over one on the best days. When it overwhelms the senses and dips the air in vibrant shades of pink. Feelings of invincibility and eternal happiness.
Yet, hard, or even impossible, to grasp into appropriate sentences. What Jungkook is doing is merely spitting the most harmless of his love confessions, because his true thoughts cannot be constellated into actual words.
âI love you. I do love you. So, so much,â he mutters, scattered kisses between words a habit now, âand I want to take care of you forever. I will bring you tea. And carry you to bed. I will even cook for you, I do not care about the intensity of effortâŠâ
Heâs said that before â delivering whatever you crave, whenever you crave it. To your surprise, the royal you thought spoiled previously has a knack for bringing delicious creations to the table. You know because he gets bored sometimes. Takes some work off the staffâs overworked shoulders.
âSpeaking of,â he soon inquires, just as you foresaw, âare you hungry? Are you eating well? We should sneak into the kitchen.â
You shake your head immediately, telling him that eating before sleep does not do well to the stomach. Tell him that it is far too late to hide in the corners of the mansion the way you hid around town when engaged.
That now, it might be much easier to stroll back into your room. Slip under the covers. Smile and talk and drift into sleep.
And you promise that youâre already well fed as long as he fills you with the care your dreamy youth would always read about.
But the clouds you float above dissipate and drop your body into a fall, from heaven to absolute hell.
Youâre not sure what you expected from this entire affair; perhaps you shouldâve known that carrying and leading a full human being into the world wouldnât occur so blissfully as the pregnancy itself was. And yes â compared to this, the pregnancy was a bed of roses, no matter how often you whined.
Damn the society around you. The only knowledge you had of this moment came from the few books Jungkook brought you every now and then, his gentle warnings that this might hurt, and the brief conversations you had with your mother about the existence of people.
One or two comments from your doctor here and there.
Oh, it will be all good!
But thatâs it, isnât it? Women do not get informed properly; you do not fully understand the concept of such things until they finally roll around.
And the day you wake up once again with the highest expectations, you finally speak those hopes into existence. As you walk up the stairs shortly after dinner, you feel a liquid drain your legs; confused until your stomach so agonisingly twists.Â
A punch to your guts.
The moment it happens, your heartbeat accelerates, its sound echoing in your ears â for the very first second, you fear the worst. Did something go wrong? Is something bad happening?
But it doesnât seem the case, because the tumult around you suggests otherwise entirely: the royal mansion breaks into an immediate excited bustle. You donât know how they do it, but word spreads like a wildfire.
As soon as the world starts spinning and you let out one or two groans, slowly turning into yelps of pain, youâre escorted to the empty bedroom. Barely minutes later, youâre accompanied by the doctor residing in your mansion these days.
Jungkookâs doing.
Ordered the physician Sang and the midwife Yumi â yes, both â to spend their days here because this is the time they predicted for the baby to arrive at. Nine months⊠plus, minus a couple days.
The skies have darkened and the seasons changed. Itâs colder now, but you feel hot, tortured by your body temperature as staff members drape more blankets over your body, comfortable pillows under you, water and cloths beside you.
And among the blurring faces you perceive under the growing pain, you donât see his.
Not now; not a couple minutes later; not even more than half an hour has passed. Have they not informed him? He went out for a stroll, but he couldnât have gone this far.
Your pleas were whispers before, asking for him, yet somewhat ignored, as if you never uttered them at all. So when the light contractions turn moderate, threatening to worsen over time, you raise your voice, âWhereâs my husband?! Are you being serious? Get him oââ
âLady Jeon,â Yumi calmly starts; your possibly irritated mind perceives the probably neutral tone as condescending, and as such, your title makes you internally cringe. âWe cannot.â
âWhat?â
âHusbands arenât allowed at childbirth. Butââ
âWhat?!â you repeat, rage redirected from the pain to the person only trying to help. Youâll feel guilty later, you know. âThis is his child, too. Heâs a goddamn part of thââ
The blunt curses are unlike you, and your brain understands; they understand, too, because they have seen and appreciated your true nature for the past few days. Maybe thatâs why they donât take your outbursts too personally; or maybe because they have done this before.
And you know, you know that whatever bond you share with Jungkook, you probably canât breach societyâs rules and the things it deems inappropriate. You werenât aware that he wasnât allowed in here; the books didnât teach you that.
But you shouldâve known.
âThe Lord will be with you the moment this is over,â Sang promises, preparing whatever he needs to. Youâre barely looking, only praying to the ceiling. âHe wonât miss a moment with his child. Now, listen to what I say.â
You do. You are.
It just gets so hard with time; the pauses between the contractions seem to shorten and then they vanish. The intensity grows, each time a little more than before; and every other minute, youâre sure youâve reached the peak, but you never have.
Then, everything starts spinning, your skin soaked in sweat and the little one moving inside, your vision blurring⊠have hours passed already?
You donât know. You donât care â you want this to be over.
But the warm liquid between your thighs, the urge to push, along with the midwifeâs words and reassurances, indicate that youâre almost there.
And thatâs when it happens. Not the end of it all. Not the appearance of whoever youâve been anticipating for so long.
But the aggressive thump at the door, repeated and rapid. It hurls your heart from your chest into your throat, your breathing a little more arhythmic than before and you nearly cannot imagine who might be provoking chaos so close to the end.
Then again, could it truly be such a surprise?
Because when the door opens a slit, a familiar face peeking, something in you stirs so hard that you nearly jump into a standing position, pain be damned. Adrenaline rushes through you as a hand pushes you back again; you mustâve risen a couple inches, calling a name.
âYou can at least tell me how she is,â Jungkookâs shaky voice inquires near the door, louder than he probably intends. His words are filled with anxiety, and you know he cried before. âI deserve to know.â
Sang hesitates; even in such an advanced state, you still hear his composed words, as calm as heâs been taught to be. âSheâs been bleeding a little. We are, however, taking care of it.â
ââŠWhat is a little?â
âBleeding is a common occurrence. Itâs justâŠâ The man clearly leans in, because you hear him a bit worse now, yet well enough to understand why your thighs feel so oddly wet and warm, and you so weak. âSomewhat more than it should be. But sheâs nearly done, so itâll beââ
âNo,â Jungkook resists, âthis is unspeakably stupid.â
Not the man speaking to him, and not anything about what youâre going through, what so many women a day must be going through.
But the distance â you know. And when you move your head towards the open door, meeting his eyes at just the right moment, almost hidden behind Sangâs figure, they widen. Once again, you know why.
Because heâs snapped.
âJungkookââ you murmur, and itâs enough.
With a combination of impatient aggression and respectful care for the physician, he pushes past the arm blocking the entry to his own bedroom. Someone in the room catches onto Jungkookâs sleeve, but he shakes it off without ever averting his gaze from you.
Yumi follows her responsibilities without a moment of hesitation, nearly leaning over your body as she warns somewhat shyly even, âYou are not allowed to be here, I apologise, butâŠâ
But her message is sharply cut in the air before it even reaches Jungkook, because he finally breaks eye contact with you, instead redirecting the flaming pupils towards her.
You donât see much else than the bottom of his jaw, but youâve seen the stare before.
When he manages a business that irritates him. When he gets into a rare but bad argument with you. You saw it when he met his teasing friends again, way after your engagement, ready to mock you. And when he faced the idiocy his uncle committed.
Intimidated, Yumi leans back, nodding just once, probably accepting that should whatever myth about childbirth come to life, itâd be your problem. But Jungkook has always been careful; doesnât believe in the warnings of infections and other unspeakable things that apparently occur when the husband joins the birthing process.
âYou are almost ready to push. Just a bit more,â she informs you instead, taking her place at the end of the bed, taking a glimpse under the blanket over your legs.
You feel it, too. Your body is telling you to.
âThis is so stupid,â Jungkook repeats, taking a seat on the chair shoved behind him. His hands seek out yours, clutching it immediately. âHours of waiting and hoping youâre alright? Incredibly dumb, isnât it?â
âI know,â you say, faintly nodding, only noticing how much youâre crying when he wipes away a stray tear, âI told them. Itâs taking so long, JungkookâŠâ
âYes, I figured it might, but⊠but,â he starts, waterline shimmering, bangs already damp â where did he run from to you? âIt will be over and so worth it.â
âRead it in⊠a book?â He nods, and you chuckle as much as possible. âYouâve been reading so much.â
âMore than ever! I have never read so many books before, you know?â He sniffles. âAnd still nothing prepared me. Do you know what happened, darling?â
Heâs fighting tears until he canât. A single one rolls down his cheek and over his mouth, his smile remaining intact, even if somewhat damaged by the profuse emotions. His lower lip trembles like yours.
Youâre in no mindset to answer, but his voice, his words, his touch soothe your heart. Lessen the pain, even though in reality and in theory, they donât.
How does any woman do this without her beloved?
âTwo hours in, and I fainted.â
Immediately, your eyes shoot open, your fingers squeezing his, but before you can utter your worries, he shakes his head and continues, âThey kept me in there and guarded me like a child. I was scheming how to escape⊠climbing out the window.â
He smiles when you laugh again, sniffling again, and concludes, âThen they told me they had heard you were struggling and that you were screaming more often. And the room was so hot, as well â it is winter, for Heavenâs sake! And I justâŠâ
Shaking his head, he emphasises the embarrassment of the moment, aware that you cannot talk much, but guiding you through it nevertheless. Speaking his mouth wound, âYouâre the one doing this. I did nothing.â
âYou did,â you manage, âit is not the same, but you were there.â
âI was there. But youâre doing this, yet I fainted. I wouldâve been with you so much earliââ
His soft conversation is soon interrupted when you scream again, your chin quivering, head thrown back when another excruciating contraction catapults you almost into unconsciousness.
Somebody wipes the sweat off your hot forehead for the millionth time, and finally, finally, you feel something happening.
But Jungkook canât contain his concerns, an observer who canât feel any of this, only seeing the love of his life sobbing, yelling, squeezing her eyes shut until they hurt. You hear him ask, âWhat?â
âJust⊠blood,â Yumiâs voice answers at the same moment as another pair of hands start massaging your stomach for whatever reason, âjustâŠâ
âIs that bad?â Jungkook wants to know, out of breath.
âItâs not great, but it wonât be fatal.â
âWhat? Is sheâŠâ He stops for a second, and you see him looking at you through half-lidded eyes, then back at the headless body, covered by the blanket, âGod. Then do something!â
You rub a thumb over the back of his hand, fully breathless, already feeling veins pop as you push. And once more. Then say, âItâs alright. ItâŠit will be alright.â
âI should be telling you that! Is that why they mock men? Huh?â He looks back and forth, and you want to laugh, barely managing to listen as you focus on the pushes. You hear his words faintly, but they help. âI am guessing you are feeling it quite a bit as opposed to me, yes?â
Youâre crying harder when you shut your eyes again, back arching, yelling out sarcastic words, âNo! Nânot feeling a thing!â
Your upper body is killing you. The pressure is unbearable, the sensation burning. Through it all, as you near the finishing line, wishing to skip these minutes, he keeps encouraging, âThis is so amazing. Just a little more. Almost⊠almost doââ
The last word is swallowed, quiet, barely spoken. Maybe because his voice is breaking, too. But maybe, because itâs interrupted by another, much shriller cry of change. Entering a world so new is surely scary.
Somebody knows it even better than you, because the first ever sounds of the baby once it finally emerges heal and break your heart. How can that be? You havenât even touched it yet.
Then, how are you already caught by such an⊠odd feeling? Floating somewhere between reality and a dream, not quite realising that youâre actually hearing the crying. Isnât a child just what you were a while ago, too?
You remember the moment you first met Jungkook so vividly. In the rain, attempting to soothe his sorrows, trying to figure out what misery had ambushed the disconsolate boy.
You were a child back then, too. That wasnât long ago, was it? Are you really married to the same being now, sharing your all with yet another existence that is yelling away in this very room?
Overwhelmed by someone you only felt and cherished through your own skin, without ever touching, without ever speaking to it?Â
âIs it⊠a girl or a boy?â you want to know.
Jungkook takes a stand, leaving your hand for just a moment, but Yumi and the rest are busy tending to the bloody and fresh child. Wrapping it in a blanket. Holding it carefully. Cutting off the umbilical cord â a relatively young term Jungkook told you about.
âItâs⊠a girl, Lady Jeon.â
A girl.
Oh God. The fatherâs beauty. The motherâs wit. A lion-heart and a strong-willed mind. If the two of you are combined, thatâs what comes out, doesnât it?
And all of her, all of what she is is yours. And youâre hers.
Jungkook doesnât get to inch too close to his flesh and blood, because Yumi turns away; youâre too tired to be angry, albeit a little relieved when she lets you know extra gently, âWeâll just clean her up and get her back to you immediately. You can hold her then.â
You let your arms sink, and Jungkook comes rushing back to you. Instead of grabbing your hand again, he places a palm to your forehead, wiping at it, moving back the hair. The calming gesture helps you wind down, even though youâre nowhere close to being yourself again.
The aftermath of the pain remains, but youâre eternally grateful for the end of the contractions. For the ceasing of your screams. For the temperature coming down, your breathing calming just gradually.
And forâ
âThank you, my love,â you mutter absent-mindedly, noticing when his movements slow down. Youâre so dizzy. âFor being with me through all this nevertheless. I do not know how they expected me to do it without you.â
âWell⊠they did not know I read all those books. I mean, you heard it. Iâm more or less a certified royal midwife now.â
You canât help but let out an unexpected snicker, still too exhausted to open both eyes. You crack one of them a split apart, teasing, âMy midwife fainted.â
âWe have bad days, too. No?â
You hear the actual midwifeâs voice jest something in agreement, widening your smile, and state, âThen. In that case, you need to redeem yourself, yes? Howâ about a crown for our baby?â
When you look at him properly, you see new tears emerge. Heâs trying his best not to cry â but with you so close, alive and courageous, and a child weeping away a couple feet from your bed⊠how could he hold back?
âWell, I was thinking of a nightdress with a tiny crown print. A real crown might be a bit much, donât you think?â
The counter-jest is already forming on your tongue, something about toys and humility and joy combined into some type of coherent sentence. But as Yumi turns towards you, holding the vulnerable, now calmer baby in her arms so carefully, you lose track of your thoughts.
Even from afar, you hear the tiny sounds. Noises of comfort, remainders of the crying. You see a miniscule hand with petite fingers curling and uncurling before they disappear close to her face, hidden behind the blanket.
You canât see much more from down here on the bed, sinking into the mattress. You attempt to get up a little, but you still feel faint, taking it step by step until someone from the staff rushes to your side. Helps you sit up.
In that time, Jungkook has already taken upon the offer to hold her first, his stance unbearably and sweetly cautious. As if heâs holding freshly crafted glass. No⊠much more careful than that.
He draws a breath in, and you see the furrowed eyebrows. The shine in his eyes. How he looks at her with utter, pure, unfiltered, raw affection until he canât bear it anymore. Averts his gaze for just a second to blink the tears out of his eyes, trying not to let them fall on her face.
His lips remain parted, focusing on breathing, cradling her. You see the knotted ball of a dozen emotions in his stare, each string made of a different sentiment.
Like a fierce protective instinct, surging through him as it does through you. Awe and wonder, marvelling at her delicate features. And a smile, a little laugh, an obvious sign of endless elation. Speechlessness.
Without words, he saysâ
Iâll keep you safe.
Youâre so perfect.
I would die for you.
All summarised in a quiet, âI canât believe it.â
Heâs close to you, and you reach out to him, touching his knee softly with a palm, rubbing until he looks at you. Shooting a curious look, he shakes his head, barely any reason behind, before he says, âSheâs curled up. Touching her face.â
âIs she⊠looking at you?â
âBarely opening her eyes. Just a slit, and⊠itâs all dark pupils and nothing else, you know? ButâŠâ His next breath is shaky, his upper body trembling; the baby with him. You wait patiently, expecting anything but what he says next. âSheâs even prettier than you.â
âShut up,â you immediately blurt, laughter mixed with relief. Itâs hard to speak; thereâs a clump in your throat. âYet⊠itâs so easy to believe you.â
âSee?â
He leans in, moving naturally, gracefully, and you widen your arms, ready to welcome her in the first embrace, and once she settles and you get comfortable and lean back again, you realiseâ
Heâs so right.
The slight crack she opened her eyes to. And the small tongue darting out every now and then. A hand on her face, arms close to her body, as if guarding herself. No weight on your arms at all; cheeks that remind you of some fluffy pastry.
You donât know her yet, but you already know her name. You havenât spoken to her, but youâve already internalised the shrill voice. And the face is new to you, but you do already treasure it.
Does she feel the same? Itâs crazy⊠This is crazy.
In theory, you know most newborn babies look similar. You know they sound the same and act the same. Youâre aware that they need to be cleaned thoroughly, and that they need to grow into more than this little bundle in your arms.
But, perhaps as a mother, you canât deny how gorgeous she is.
You already know â already pronounce her the diamond of every season and every year to come.
They say that love opens your eyes to new colours. Unlocks a path to brighter sunrises and clearer nights. They say in every second of loving somebody another star is hung into the sky, shedding more light onto the world.
Thereâs utter truth to these fairytales and supper anecdotes; but they never quite mention how draining a life as a mother can be, too.
That itâd be torture to your once bright mind; that youâd wake up in pain and beg for sleep and never quite receive it. That youâd realise how mean your mind could be to you after experiencing such heart-shattering worship the moment you saw her first.
The nights are difficult, but Jungkook exerts an effort equal to yours. Youâre grateful when he takes a few days off as needed. Constantly shows his appreciation for your hard work and refuses to let you do this alone.
And you both agreed. You want the nanny to interfere as little as possible; want to keep the childâs attention glued to you for the most part, but with a balance that allows her to never shy away from other people, either.
Like, when your and Jungkookâs family visited a while ago; not once did you feel like she couldnât handle a moment without you. Was switched from one hold to another, moving towards whoever was ready to provide affection.
Sheâs a social butterfly. Doesnât fear strangers. But you still help her familiarise herself with you, independent from a nanny whoâd enable more of your time to yourself, but less time with your baby.
And neither you nor Jungkook urges for that distance.
Itâs never easy.
Youâve cried more often than your fingers can count, on your last legs as you wept into Jungkookâs clothes. Feeling a palm wiping at your tears a dozen times. Motherhood always sounded so gorgeous, but it hurts, too.
Then againâŠ
See, then again, itâs easy to circle back to the metaphor of the sun and the stars, the fresh start to your life that cannot be replaced by any other experience. A million little moments that wrap you into your own bubble. The three of you and nobody else.
They render each of those troubles worthless; you cherish them with an unspeakable vigour, aiding yourself as your exhaustion fades once faced with warm, sunlit afternoons as todayâs.
Jungkook offered to watch over her as you wallowed in the breeze and the walk you desired for so long. Itâs been too long since you enjoyed the miles outside; steep hills and green fields, accompanied by the sound of birds you yet need to study.
Then down to the village, then another stroll back up again. You sought out tranquil moments, escaping your chores. But when you come back, nothing compares to the sight that meets you.
Damn all these walks.
Because only a fool could resist such an image of your husband lying on your bed, on his back and with his legs crossed, head facing sideways and away from the window. Away from the descending sun. Suhana sprawled right on his upper body. Cheek above his heartbeat, her fingers on Jungkookâs sharp jaw.
A pocket-sized hand holding him close to her.
His proportionally large palms rest on her back and under her little butt, both of them dozing peacefully. She moves with him as his chest rises, but she looks so undeniably at peace â as if thereâs no better heaven. And mouth open, like no thunder could wake her.
Suhanaâs bangs have grown longer now, hair covering some of the nape of her neck and her forehead. Her lips are rosy; the same shape as his. Even if reluctantly, you have to admit that she looks a lot like him.
You act offended when people remind you of that. Because you vehemently claim you want to see more of yourself in her, and Jungkook always calms you with the forecast that sheâll grow up to be as beautiful as you.
Something he thoroughly fears, however, judging the worldâs intentions.
But you must also confess that seeing two pieces of the same gentle soul makes you feel lucky.
You drape your shawl over the chair at the large, wooden desk and step closer to the royal bed. Rest your legs from the excessive walk, laying down right beside him â facing him directly.
Gently, you reach out and graze the apple of his cheek; soon repeating the action with his miniature version before you tuck your hand under your temple. Then, you wait.
She doesnât stir â as expected. But the tickling touch you left along his face elicits a sigh out of him before he lets out a small sound. Voices something like a harmless groan, along with a quiet smack of his lips that reveals the tiny dimples at the corners of his mouth, and a barely-there crease between his eyebrows.
His hand slides over her mini-body as a protective reaction, an immediate reflex. His eyes flutter open so slowly, just a slit; and when they do, youâre not the first thing he sees. Because they drift straight to her, ensuring that sheâs still right where he left her and alright.
And only once heâs gathered that sheâs still asleep, he blinks into your direction. They also say that priorities change with a child, no matter the amount of love for the partner; and you canât blame anybody for this.
He smiles when he realises your presence, only lightly nudging you with his elbow. You move closer as he deduces, âYouâre back. Was itâŠâ Loving yawn. âWas it long enough for us to fall asleep?â
âIt seems so. What were you two doing?â
âTalking.â Of course. Not an absurd answer by now at all. You nod. âShe was explaining to me the existence of the pillow and the sun. Pointing at them. I was listening.â
Jungkook doesnât ever describe her curiosity as exploration. To him, sheâs talking, conversing. Your heart swells as you ask, âOhhh, yes? What else?â
âI made her toy talk and she liked it, I reckon. Giggled so much that she fell off my lap once.â
The fantasy of the moment makes you break into laughter; you have a handful of questions. Did she get hurt? Did she keep laughing as she fell? Was she out of breath as much as you are when you observe her shenanigans?
You quiet down when she moves, fingers curling in. Shushing yourself and grimacing, you shift your attention back to your husband, taking in his freshly awoken expression before you state, âYour eyes are so swollen, though. And your face is dry.â
As if liquid dried on it.
Attentive assumption, because Jungkook instantly discloses, âUh⊠I mightâve cried a bit.â
Oh? Oh no. Not him, tooâ
You wonder, âWhy did you cry, my love?â
âBecause she was cryingâŠâ
âWhat? Why?â
âMmmhâŠ. Sheâs always touching her face, you know?â You do know. You keep her from squishing her cheeks all the time. âI think she poked her eyes at some point and I mean⊠it didnât hurt her at all.â Of course not; you make sure to keep her nails trimmed. âBut it was a new sensation for her and her baby brain mustâve thought it hurt. So she started crying.â
âOh no⊠and then you cried, as well, huh?â
You reach out to him, clearing his right eye and temple as you swipe away the strands of hair. By now, your language and manner of talking are mixing; you feel the same protective instinct towards both.
He sighs before he continues, âThe parenting books said not to. I was supposed to stay calm, so she doesnât interpret the situation as worse than it was. But I hate seeing her sad. So stupid.â
The position doesnât allow him to shake his head properly, so he settles with a slow blink of his eyes. Then, he says, âBut that made her stop. Look how hard sheâs sleeping now. So deceiving!â
âOh, babyâŠâ
You donât know what it is; maybe the permanent, lingering, overwhelming fact that this dream is actually your reality. That the three of you are alive and together and undoubtedly part of each other.
Whatever it is, it looks as though he is about to cry again.
âShe is so feisty. Reminds me of you,â he whispers. âRight?â
Heâs not talking to you, but to her â because sheâs opened her eyes and he noticed before you even saw it.
Upon hearing his voice, she moves. Tiny fists stretch out, and she starts kicking slowly against Jungkookâs stomach. Her body winds restlessly, put off by his reaction just for a second when she hits against his body again and he utters, âOwwwh!â
And then, shamelessly, she yawns.Â
Coos and gurgles, croaks and caws. The sounds are small and high-pitched, sweet and tender. Curious wonder rests in her eyes as they crack open entirely, adjusting to her surroundings and you suddenly being here when you werenât before. Not that she remembers.
AndâŠ
God, your heart jumps out of your chest, bloody and beating.
Because the very moment she sees you, she smiles in joy. She so often does. Sometimes, as you walk over to her crib at night, shining the candlelight into the space between you, she smiles with barely open eyes, too.
She squeals a little, reaching out for you, and you bring her fingers to your face for a fleeting moment before she retracts them again with a tired giggle. But when she registers her fatherâs breath, his voice sounding against her ear, she stops again.
Cuddling back in. Right where she wants to be.
No matter how much she loves you, she will never feel the same towards anybody in this world as she does for him.Â
He settles his hands on her more firmly, and then sits up with an encouraging, âAaaand, here we go. Letâs take a look at you.â
He stares at her as he holds her in front of him, and she laughs again, seemingly amused by floating, held by two strong hands. Meaty legs kick in the air until he seats her down between the two of you with a shielding hand on her back.
She canât fully sit on her own yet, but she always tries. Doesnât wiggle too much anymore, though. Hits the mattress with her palms playfully.
âI swear⊠I will die for her,â Jungkook proclaims, moving until he meets her eyes. She looks up in a sudden movement, snickering again when he tickles her a little. Then, he repeats through gritted teeth, âDo you know, hm? I will die for you, I will!â
Before you know it â probably even before she, with her limited attention span, knows it â sheâs back at playing. Then, another shift to you; a touch to your cheek. Leaning in, almost falling onto you when you scrunch your nose and kiss the air, communicating with her silently.
As her body attacks your face, an open, amused mouth drooling onto your cheek, you protest. Sitting up, you help her into your lap, and she has the audacity to yawn again.
With a shake of your head, you declare, âSometimes you act spoiled, alright. Havenât acted up yet, but I think we should probably feed you now, shouldnât we?â
âProbably before she starts crying again,â Jungkook agrees.
âCanât have that. Or you will, as well.â
âHa-ha. But you know what, I might as well. It was insane.â He tuts, cocking an eyebrow as you prepare to bare your chest. âBut if thatâs what being with this tiny little thing means, Iâll take it,â leaning in, he returns to his talk with her, âalright? Listen up.â
Somehow, she does. No matter what he says, he manages to flood happiness through her, because she coos again, inhales sharply as she perks up her ears, âIâm serious. Iâll die for you, but only if you do not grow up. Stay like this, yes?â
âStop it. I need her to grow into a woman like me and save the world.â
âIs that right? She canât even say Dada yet. Give her some time.â
âOr Mama.â
âYes. But you know as well as I do what word sheâll start out with.â
Standard banter between parents, you assume. You wouldnât want it any other way. You prepare for a counter-tease, but then you fare better. âOf course. Something distinguished and eloquent like crown princess, probably.â
Jungkook blows a raspberry, and when tiny Hana mimics the action, spitting in the process, he roars with laughter. His usual child-like, sugary sweet titter, head thrown back and a hand under his chest.
This right here.
This is worth the pain, you think. Despite the hurdles, you think youâve settled in this job, understood its responsibilities and set goals that will probably enable the life you desire.
Nothing can break this. Right?
As if diving into your thoughts or seeing them floating at the surface of your eyes, Jungkook reaches out, placing a warm palm on your neck. You look into his eyes, half his face dark as he covers the sun falling in from behind him.
If she wasnât still on your lap, youâd jump into his, cuddle in and stay like this until the hot ball outside sets and rises again. But instead, you keep staring until he says, âWeâre doing well. Really, really well.â
You are.
You have made yourself at home with the most tender of men, have gained luxuries and a noble style of living, still sporting a kind and generous heart. Yet, youâve never been prouder of yourself.
âWe are. And you are! See?â you agree cheerfully, touching his knee briefly. âYou were so worried. And nowâ Iâm losing her to you. God, just look at thisââ
Her eyes must have followed your hand when it caressed his knee a moment ago. Because she crawls out of your lap, squeaking in joy as she targets his. Climbing it until he helps her up and settles in the way you wished to do just a minute ago.
âMmmh. I guess Iâm great at this, yes,â Jungkook concurs, âseems that bad traits arenât learned after all, hm?â
The environment might be crucial in many cases, but if one inhabits a strong heart and a solid will, nothing can sway you.
Your chest feels as warm as the weather; your mind is as fresh as the breeze. And staring at his set of cheeks as flushed as the roses planted outside, you canât help but be flooded with inexplicable magic.
You tell him, âYou got into this role very easily. And Iâm happy youâre happy.â
And he, the effortlessly fitting, second part of your soul, answers without a moment of hesitation and doubtâ
âYou make it easy to be.â
The bright, opulent room you enter floods back bittersweet memories in soaring waves.
It has been a while since you attended a noble ball like this. Theyâre cosier where you live. Smaller, the names less known; differing rigorously from events in the main city, in the capital, in the centre of your country.
Your seethingly beloved lorddom where you now reside has a humble and warm note to it; but no matter how thoroughly you might seek quiet peace, it will never bring the same nostalgia your former home does. Where you grew up.
Where you come from. And where Jungkook comes from. That one connection, indicating where the two of you started; your family; the crowds. This is all your life, playing out right in front of you.
As two of the most noted royals entering the hall, all eyes flicker to the two of you. Their gazes are brilliant and their attire posh. His brother, the host of the night, invited the best of the town; or rather, his wife did.
Itâs wedding season again, which means that courting and heartache, confusion and intrigue will come back in all the glory you remember. Even now, you see a sliver of all the drama already.
Because no matter where you look, somebody is whispering. Somebody is eyeing another. Mustering the courage to dance with the object of their affection, or hatching a plan how to go down as the most desired of the year.
And from an outsiderâs perspective, itâs fun to watch. In hindsight, you wonder if the crowd noticed the tension between Jungkook and you all that time ago; if they tittle-tattled about you, making up rumours or silent bets on what might transpire between you.
They probably did. You donât recall much of the reactions as much as you do the touches, gazes, the butterflies his existence brought along.
And just as well, you remember the time before â when youâd hide behind your sister as she sought out a partner. Never did you think that the two of you would come out of the season with a beloved like the ones you now cherish.
And never did you think it would be the man whoâd stand near those very pillars youâre now passing, a mere boy, keeping his eyes on you, but never saying anything particularly nice or productive.
It was events like these that you attended with him after he posed the question that changed the two of you.
âLet me court you.â
Sleepless nights. Rainy evenings. Swirling on dancefloors, bonding at orphanages, teasing in carriages. Locked rooms, secret conversations, broken hearts. Unexpected secrets and reunions.
Was that your life within a few months?
When people grow bored or notice the indecency of staring, they drift back to their old conversations. Jungkook and you conclude your entry, soon moving to the side. Fearing upcoming talks with people curious about the two of you.
You sigh as you listen to the strings, stress dropping off your shoulders as you say, âI love Hana so much, but⊠itâs so nice being here with you again.â
âIt is,â he agrees, though hesitating, mouth open as if to add something. And then he does, âI do miss her, though.â
You laugh. Of course. âI know you do. I bet she does, too.â
Of course.
She could barely contain herself from babbling constant Dadadadas before you left. And yes, she said it before she learned to pronounce Mama. An insult, considering that you were the one who tended to swollen feet and a weight hanging off your tummy. Building to the moment sheâd call for you.
But no! A daddyâs girl through and through. Then again, you are, too.
You do adore her to pieces, as well, but⊠itâd be a lie if you said you didnât look forward to a night without a single obligation. Thankfully, the nanny took it upon herself to take care of Suhana tonight, so you are free to roam.
Despite, sheâs already two years old now.
Sheâs been articulating herself clearer these days, so itâs gotten a little â a little! â easier to explain things to her now. She didnât whine much when you told her youâd be out for a bit, but come back soon.
She must be asleep already anyway. And you hope you can keep your husbandâs yearning in bay, too. You understand; itâs hard to leave. Especially as she stood ogling at you before you bid her good night, muttering a teeny tiny, âSo pretty,â to you as you presented your gown.
âMine?â she uttered.
You squinted, puzzled; you spoke her language, but couldnât decipher this just yet. ââŠYours?â
To explain, she nodded, making you understand when she patted her chest with a flat palm. Eyebrows cocking, you voiced, âOhhhh. Hmmm. Darling, shall we go tomorrow and get you a pretty new dress for the summer?â
She was unspeakably delighted.
âDo you want to dance?â Jungkook asks, a hand already lifting.
For a while, youâd rather watch. Itâs custom to dance, but⊠youâd rather observe the world from a different point of view, see what they used to see. Besides, you donât enjoy Galop as much, and thatâs what the piano is pulling out of the guests right now.
âYou want to exhaust yourself already?â you laugh as he shrugs his shoulders. âHmm. Am I allowed to decline?â
âWellâŠâ he starts, lightly gripping your wrist, thumb touching it sweetly. âDo you have a card that you need to fill?â
âIf you were courting me, yes. But Iâm already shackled to you, and canât escape even if I wanted to.â
âAhhh,â he draws closer, mouth inches from your ears. Acting as if forwarding gossip, but only driving you insane in reality. âSo you want to escape?â
âSomethingâs telling me I should try and see what youâll do.â
âI mean, go ahead. Not opposed to going full-courtiââ
Your laughter overshadows his last syllable, and you push his chest away, careful not to risk a scandal after coming out here after so long. Heâs unabashed and would kiss you right here, if you let him.
So you move away, still giggling, and the moment your eyes lift to the guests, you silence. Right there, among the faces, you recognise one in the distance that had long dimmed in your memory.
You havenât seen him in such a long time. And you didnât expect it to happen today, either.
The man must have noticed the presence of a direct stare, because he soon looks into your direction at the very same moment. Squints his eyes, the smile adorning his mouth dropping as he spots you and understands who you are. Eyebrows raise. Features always expressive.
You want to grab Jungkookâs arm and flit away, but the man excuses himself from the conversation, idly strolling towards you and not leaving a way to escape anymore.
âOh shit,â you quietly curse, and Jungkook hears, alarmed instantly.
He widens his doe eyes, so sweet as he looks at you, fingers coming up to pinch your chin as he asks, âWhat happened? Are you alright?â
âYes. Certainly, justââ
âOh⊠I wonât ask if itâs you because I know it is.â
The smooth greetings are accompanied by a surprised call of your name, and when you look back at the person matching the voice, your expressions move to kindness. You donât want to appear awkward, and you donât, but you wonder what Jungkook might be thinking.
Smiling, too, as you observe. But this oneâs definitely awkward, the friendly kind that canât do anything else but wait until the question marks have cleared up for him. Right there in his eyes until you enlighten him.
âIt has been ages,â the man in front of you chimes.
âIt has been. Years!â
You turn to Jungkook, an introduction sitting on your tongue, but he beats you to it. Still weirdly smiling, as amiable as ever, he asks, âDo you know each other?â
And the man, heart-shaped lips rising back to a smile, apologises immediately, âAh, yes, yes, yes. My manners. I am Lord Jung. Jung Hoseok.â
He bows, missing the way Jungkookâs mouth parts, eyes blinking nearly unimpressed untilâ his features become defined all of a sudden, jaw far sharper than usual. Akin to a razor.
Heâs not liking this.
âAh,â Jungkook mutters, returning to the sociable expression that households drill into their children for years. âI am Jeon Jungkook.â
If anybody knew him as well as you do, theyâd realise much sooner than later that heâd rather switch the situation with an easier one. But you canât say any of it yet. You only listen as your past flame says, âYou settled so well.â
Of course he knows. You guess after the craze over two years ago, he soon found out what the truth really held. You only reply, âI did.â
âMarried life suits you!â
âThank you, Hoseok! What about you, have youââ
âOh, actually Iââ
He seems much more cheerful about this than you imagined. Then again, what did you think? His life has probably changed now and the sentiments his heart once tended to evaporated. Everyone moves on at some point.
And he sounds genuinely happy for you.
But thatâs not how Jungkook seems to perceive it. Because to your chagrin, he interrupts the man facing you, and you immediately hold your breath, already preparing a couple warning words when he startsâ
âIt is rude of me, but may I perhaps interrupt?â Hoseok silences upon Jungkookâs words, listening attentively, and you ready yourself for more teeth-grinding. âI apologise for being so impudent and straight-forward, but⊠this is uncomfortable to me becauseââ
âJungkookââ you cut, trying to save the situation.
âI know, I just do not wish to let feelings out on anyone who doesnât deserve it.â
HmmâŠ
âUncomfortable?â Hoseok repeats, watching Jungkookâs Adamâs apple move as he swallows. Ponders over the words hanging in the air, and when none of the two of you speak on, Hoseok finally understands. âOh! OhhhhâŠâ
He snaps a finger, and you resist the urge to slap your face. You know youâll laugh about it in a couple hours; in truth, you donât care if it might get odd for you because in all pure honesty, the situation has the potential to turn into comedy gold.
But Jungkook has an envious fibre; one to occur rarely, but when it does, he doesnât hide it. To him, youâre the most striking creature to exist; in his opinion, everybody should be in love with you.
Yet, the thought of you with someone who he might consider better than him is unbearable.
For a second, you consider lifting your frock and storming to the entrance, or a room upstairs and to squish Jungkookâs cheeks between your palms. To make crystal clear who your heart thumps for, to bring back the confidence heâs built in the marriage with you.
But you restrain yourself when Hoseok speaks, âI understand. Back then, I actually hoped to see you at some point because I know what you are talking about.â
Jungkook reacts, âYou are?â
âI think so. Is it not about the shenanigans people crafted a few years ago?â
Two and a half years now, to be exact.
âYes, I apologise,â you chime in, âthey shouldnât have spoken about you or your personal feelings. But I thought you knew I had married andââ
âNo, I,â he says, flushing, raising a hand in objection, âIâ this is what I wanted to explain, so the two of you never find yourselves despising me.â
Oh god.
âThe thing is that,â he hesitates. If you didnât know his heart better, youâd assume heâs teasing you. But he scratches his temple, scrambling for words. âOne of my staff came to my mansion with me as we settled there. He lived in this town before as well. Like you and I did.â
He looks to the side as if he could find that friend here, but then soon lets his eyes drift over you and Jungkook again, continuing, âHe had heard stories about⊠what we used to be.â
âRight,â you add.
âHe asked me about it. And my best guess is that somebody must have heard and interpreted that I was still yearning for those sentiments. But I wasnât. I had a secret fiancĂ©e for the longest. I never told anyone until the wedding day neared. SoâŠâ
It takes a moment. Then another.
You think back to the reactions each of you had two years ago; how it spread throughout the mansion and spawned chaos in your bedroom. In any good or bad way, and yet.
And when realisation finally trickles in, a big of course ghosting through your minds, Jungkook and you both voice a simultaneous, âOh.â
You shouldâve known. Then again, didnât you? Didnât both of you doubt the truth behind the rumours, yet believing what a collective of people said? You guess, once more than one person claims a thing, it becomes more plausible.
No matter that it never was.
âPlease donât misunderstand,â Hoseok emphasises, âitâs not how I felt. Certainly not. I just never thought youâd believe it, or,â God, how stupid, âas a happy married woman, care. So I never bothered reaching out. We both have our homes, right?â
His fingers touch almost shyly, another smile flashing to defuse the situation. Youâll definitely laugh about this later. But right now, you only feel heat in your face, desiring to chase your staff throughout the mansion until they tire out.
Damn it.
âWe did. We do.â You put an ashamed hand to your stomach. That feels funny. Weird. âI actually have a daughter now.â
Good change to lighten the moment. You shoot Jungkook a look; his cheeks are as flushed as you expected. But Hoseok does well in playing along, latching onto the new topic effortlessly and naturally.
âOh, you do? I have a son as well. Maybe yours and he could be friends.â You nod as he talks, grateful for his kindness. âAnotherâs on the way for us, and Soo swears she can feel itâs a girl this time.â
âThatâs so lovely, Hoseok,â is all you need to say. You might not feel towards him as you used to. Whatever flame the two of you ignited all that time ago has long been extinguished, but you always wish the best for him. âThat is honestly so lovely. Iâm happy for you.â
One single nod, smile reaching his eyes. Then, no more beating around the bush, the end of the conversation already overdue when he says, âEnjoy the night. Donât ever trust anyone but your own eyes and ears, yes?â
âYes⊠you as well, Lord Jung.â
And then he walks away. Leaves the two of you in silence.
Lips tight, eyes on the ground, nearly dissociating until you nod. Then you raise your lips. And then laugh. Chuckling with a shaking head and a hand lifting hand. Touching your hot forehead as you say, âI feel stupid.â
âAnd I feel stupidâŠâ Jungkook finally speaks, his first words after a while.
âDid we really argue about this years ago?â
âWell, before you reprimand me, I need to defend myself and remind you that the argument worked for us that night, not against us. Did Suhana come from it or what?â
âDo the math, Jungkook! I told you about the pregnancy already a day after. Suspected it that night, too.â You giggle again, amused by his dumbfounded expression. âYou know what? Maybe I could use that dance now.â
âAh? Thought the lady would be rejecting me tonight. That wouldâve robbed much of my honour.â
âShut up, you envious fool. Either youâll come and sway with me or Iâll never let you forget it.â
âYou wonât. Either way.â
You donât respond with much other than another beam and an accepting palm in his. You donât need to.
In the end, Hoseok didnât make a difference. Guess you wouldâve lived either way, just the way you are, content and in love and eternally blissful to all obstacles. The evil of the word and sorrow fear you, not vice versa.
Because itâs him. Itâs you.
And her. The three of you; three pieces of the same heart.
Or perhapsâ perhaps itâs you whoâs doing the math all wrong.
yoooo!! it took a while, but we're finally back. as summer and vacation near, i will have a lot more time to write again, so sit tight and look forward to more content, like entertainer and cmi (ofc these two, as well). i really really hope you liked it. some parts were written under a bad migraine and exhaustion, but i hope i could still deliver the emotions well.
and love you all!! thank you for still being here with me :') and stay healthy and happy, don't overwork yourself! hopefully this one could serve as a bit of relaxation. if you liked it, don't forget to let me know as always, no matter if you just arrived here or have been here for some time. and like, reblog, comment as well! you knowww how much i cherish all the words ever sent hehe <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts smut#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook series
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Agatha x Rio Fic Recs
We're a couple of weeks out post-finale and I've read enough fics to recommend a new bunch! You can find my first pre-finale recs here â usual YMMV disclaimer applies. In no order:
â real hot ghoul shit â by @tadpoleeater
WIP. Rio's finally done pursuing. Agatha's been introduced to reality TV. It's hilarious with emotional gut punches â just like the show!
â one good honest kiss (and i'll be alright) â by @tadpoleeater
5 times they kissed. Messy, beautifully angsty, but hopeful at the end.
â now I understand, and itâs time to leave the woods â by @paddingtonfan69
Romantic, moving, absolutely heartbreaking, while also silly at times. This second chapter has perhaps my favourite backstory scenes.
â youâre here, thereâs nothing I fear â by @paddingtonfan69
Titanic fic. Rio and Agatha chance upon each other on Rio's work trip. That iceberg is really inconvenient.
â you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you â by @alilbitgaywrites
WIP. A fix-it fic but it's going to hurt a lot before it gets better. Also some of my favourite backstory scenes. The banter, the tragedy, the beauty, the heartbreak.
â you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me â by @alilbitgaywrites
For more fluff and less angst (there's still angst, it's these two of course there is). Rio wants a vacation but Agatha can't stop summoning her to her crime scenes.
â primal night â by Palmarion
AU. Rio is death, Agatha is human and they meet one Halloween night at Rio's bar. Nicky happens unexpectedly. A comforting romantic story.
â coven of chaos â by @trickofthelights
WIP. Crack but taken so seriously and written fantastically well. Rio/Agatha/Wanda and their very weird found family. Everyone lives!
â death is no parenthesis â by @littledata
WIP. This time it's Rio who's stuck in a spell and Agatha is the one doing the nudging. Too bad about the creepy dreams of death.
ïżœïżœ A Wretched Soul â by @motherconfessors
WIP. Porn with plot... with a side of food? Agatha makes a new deal with Rio so she can get her purple back. What Rio's asking for is surprising.
â how the dead walk â by obsetress
Ghost!porn with plot. Agatha and Rio have a messy reconciliation. Ghost sex is really tricky, especially when feelings are involved.
â because i could not stop for death (she kindly stopped for me) â by shy_one
WIP. Their many meetings over the centuries, over numerous misdeeds and murders. A dark, beautiful, epic journey.
â the path ahead â by @a-couple-of-notes
A happier canon-divergent ending. Jen opens a school for witches, her remaining coven members return to help. Charming and hopeful and healing.
â Rabbit Heart â by @sapphoshands
Post-finale scenes featuring our favourite Señor Scratchy.
#agatha all along#agathario#agatha x rio#rio vidal#agatha harkness#fic recs#tv: agatha all along#ship: vidarkness#and there's still got more fic i haven't read
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This Week in Tomarrymort (4 â 10 October 2024)
Another week chock-full of updates! October is always such a rich and amazingly productive month in fandom, with such an explosion of new ideas and fics with the many prompt challenges going on. And a few more @tomarrybigbang fics as well!Â
As with last week, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, like a little bit about the chapter(s) updated. For this format of weekly list, thereâs no space to add a summary or extra info about the fics, so Iâll rely on the authors to share a bit more about their updates, if youâre so inclined! đ€
A recap of the author notes from last week:
such unholy heaving by @cealesti (M, 10k, WIP) âA horror/suspense F/F Tomarry fic set in a D&D-inspired fantasy setting.â These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 28k, WIP) âGOVERNMENT WARNING: (1) According to the Surgeon General, Harry Potter should not drink alcoholic beverages while resurrecting Lord Voldemort because of the risk of...everything. (2) Consumption of alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to operate Deathly Hallows, and may cause, er, problems. Aka, Harry gets hammered and decides it's a great idea to drunk "text" (i.e., summon) Voldemort with the Stone. Voldemort isn't one to pass up an opportunity to exploit vulnerability for personal gain.â Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian (T, 46k, WIP) âA depressed postwar Harry has taken Death's hand, reunited with the horcrux he mourned, and traveled into his own past Now he wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.â Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 18k, WIP) âA role reversal AU! In this latest chapter, Tom tells a scary story for Halloween to get Harry hot and bothered.â on line sex & rabbit stew by @izharmilgram (E, 3k, complete) âIncludes time-travelling Professor Harry Potter, phone sex in the 1950s, horcrux shenanigans, parseltongue, Tom being sexually frustrated... fun stuff.â The Brief Fiery Plummets by @thefangirlibrarian (T, 1k, WIP) âA series of 100-word drabbles exploring different moments Harry might have woken up in after traveling back to the past in When the Weight is Gone.â forgive me father by @cindle-writes (E, 2k, complete) âA PWP one-shot where Tom sneaks into Harry's bed while he's sleeping and seduces him, featuring adoptive father Harry and shota boypussy Tom.â
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Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic
Chapter 15 (Completed) of Just Business by @holaolla1
One Shot | family friends by @reggieblk
One Shot | young lust by @xodahafez
One Shot | the precarity of virgin souls by @izharmilgram
One Shot | roughly, dry and painful by @2sidesofthesamesoul
One Shot | donât wake me (iâm not dreaming) by @dreaming-in-the-dark
One Shot | The Sweetness of Your Tears by @v33r00
One Shot | sleeping with ghosts by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts
One Shot | Newly Forged by @obsidianpen
One Shot | bad guy by @circleofplanets
One Shot | nineteen (ever so priceless) by @midsummersins
One Shot | Consequences of Murder by @penrot
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Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics
Chapter 3 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight
Chapter 37 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer
Chapter 63 of Holly & Yew by @lovely-lotus
Chapter 7 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic
Chapter 15 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva
Chapter 1 of itâs hard being casual by sansaerys
Chapter 12 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear
Chapter 9 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse
Chapter 3 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn
Chapter 7 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle
Chapter 11 of Aphelion by TimaeusKosmou
Chapter 36 of Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist
Chapter 14 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3
Chapter 2 of Lunacy by @crowcrowcrowthing
Chapters 1 and 2 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries
Chapter 1 of The Sacred Art Of Repression by @goldenzingy46
Chapter 2 of such unholy heaving by @cealesti
Chapters 5 through 7 of The Brief Fiery Plummets by @thefangirlibrarian
Chapter 4 of Fate's Coffin by @noxxytocin
Chapter 1 of Infinite by @moontearpensfic
Chapter 5 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable
Chapter 1 of Plague by @a-sentimental-man
Chapter 5 of Forbidden Darkness by @neurowriter14
Chapter 4 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89
Chapter 1 of the alchemy by @cindle-writes
Chapters 126 and 127 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis
Chapter 1 of despite everything, it's still you by @boromirsayshi
Chapter 8 of all you do is kill, love snakes, and lie by @soopsiedaisies
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#tomarry#tomarrymort#harrymort#tomarrymort recs#aethon recs#tomarry recs#ao3 recs#fanfic recs#hp fic recs#harrymort recs#tomarry weekly#this week in tomarrymort
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Hello! I make comics and fan-comics in my free time, but don't always post things chronologically...
A comprehensive list:
Kelpie AU: Psychonauts
A decade ago, the Psychonauts struggled with a major pest problem. A problem which intertwines with the Aquato family secret.
OG / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / ...
Prison Ghost AU: Danny Phantom
After being trapped in Walker's prison for 16 years, Danny's friends get him out. But a lot has changed in that time.
OG / 1 / 2 / 3 / ...
Extra: Danny / Sam
Ask Responses: 1 / 2 /
Asante Centaurs (Original Story written with @theinodog)
A Saskatchewan centaur moves into a gated modern-day Portland, Oregon community.
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 /
Post Mindscape: The Owl House
2 years after the Boiling Isles are saved, Hunter struggles to find peace. His friends try to help.
>>Not yet posted<<
WIP: 1 / 2
The Southern Water Tribe: Avatar the Last Airbender
The Firelord makes a visit to the Southern Water Tribe.
>>Not yet posted<<
I want to keep this tumblr page solely art, so most of the asks will be responded to with illustrations. Takes me a while to get to all to them, so apologies if I don't get to yours!
Other Social Media: Twitter | Instagram |
#albinotopaz#comics#fan comics#danny phantom#the owl house#psychonauts#avatar the last airbender#atla#centaur
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I'm in the mood for...
July 31st
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1. Hii I'm kinda new here but if you can help me it would be awesome!! So basically, I don't know if there really a fic like that exactly, but anything close is great. I'm looking for a fic where lan zhan locks wei ying (probably in the cloud recesses), and for some reason, wei ying can't see/has eye cover. The idea is based on the scene where lan zhan says he wants to take someone (wei ying) and hide this someone. Thanks a lotđ @untamedlover
A Way Out by pinkquilts (E, 143k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Living Together, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, First Love, Locked In, Major Character Injury, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, Drunken Shenanigans, WWX misinterprets literally everything, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut, Fix-It, Injury) Lan Zhan takes an unconscious Wei Ying back to Gusu and locks him in a warded cottage in A Way Out so it's close to the request but not quite what they ideally wanted.
~*~
2. Hi! I would love recommendations for Wei Wuxian/Nie Mingjue if anyone has any! I loved âBetter Things To Do With A Flute In Wartimeâ for the sexy times but mainly for the feeling like Nie Mingjue recognized that Wei Wuxian was more than just a troublemaker, he saw that Wei Wuxian was a strong, capable, smart man. Would love any recs people have for this duo! Thank you!
An Elegant Solution by giraffeter (E, 205k, niewangxian, canon divergence, arranged marriage, friends to lovers, fix-it, everyone lives au, courtship, polyamory, smut) unfortunately I don't have any nmj/wwx, it's nmj/wwx/lwj but I found the fic very enjoyable!
Iâll grow you a garden (in my fortress of stone) by Lyna_Mei (M, 16k, WIP, MingXian, Canon Divergence, CQL-Verse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Cultivation Sect Politics, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, JYL is Not Angelic, No MY redemption, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Sporadic Updates)
When Night Falls by aspiratixxn (M, 28k, MingXian, canon-divergent, depictions of war, mild nudity, Slow Burn)
~*~
3. hi there. this is an itmf request for baoshan sanren coming down from her mountain and claiming wwx as her grandson/disciple. in front of gentry would be great, but other instances are also welcome. thanks for all your hard work!
Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, BSSR/LY, Alternate Universe, a story full of tragic pining gays, and one chaotic gremlin, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSRâs disciple)
Can't Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)
𧥠Ghosts Shouldnât by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)
đThrough the Storm by marhikit (T, 33k, WangXian, WX/OMC, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Not Jiang Family Friendly, WWX gets big siblings that love and adore him, JZX ends up with someone different, No Golden Core Transfer, Creepy JGS, JZX & WWX Friendship, WWX in a different sect)
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4. Hi!! đđ„°
It's me! I'm on vacation finally, I missed you all so much, but I couldn't read fanfics during my exams (it's too distracting). But now I'm free again, so I'm here to ask a ITMF! Yey!
Lately I'd like to read fanfics in which:
A) LQ discover about the absence of WWX's core and decides to help WWX and the Wens. And bring all of them to Gusu.
B) LQ discover about the abuse of Madam Yu and decides that WWX will stay in Gusu. (I love when this happens during the Cloud Recesses Study Arc, but it's ok if this happens in other moment).
I like happy endings, and I prefer when the good people live (Wens, JY, JC...) and only bad people dies. Long fics if it's possible, but shorts are ok too. No modern fics.
Thank you for everything! đ€đ„°đ @wangxiansgirl
4A)
Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, no one dies, LQR finds out about WWXâs core, WWX and LQR are friends??, In My Fic?, its more likely than you think, LWJ in the bg like whats happening?, Fluff, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal)
Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ's emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) Not quite the request, since it's LXC who ends up inviting WWX & the Wens to come to CR, but iirc LQR grudgingly agrees the Wens need help & can stay? So may be close enough to scratch that itch
Discordant Rhapsody by nirejseki (T, 49k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, JC & WWX, WQ & WWX & WN, LWJ & LQR & LXC, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, trauma, politics, protective LQR, protective LWJ, protective WWX, LQR centric, whump, angst) 4a similar. It's been a while since I read the fic so I don't remember if there's an eventually Golden Core reveal, but it's not the reason LQR has for inviting WWX and the Wen to the Cloud Recesses. But hopefully this is similar enough that the requester will enjoy it anyway.
No Strings Attached by stiltonbasket (G, 3k, WangXian, NieLan,Canon Divergence, Fix-It, LQR is a good uncle, Smitten LWJ, Golden Core Reveal)
Righteous and Devoted by thunderwear (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Golden Core Reveal, LWJ's POV, Barely Any Pining, thanks lqr, Fluff, lots of fluff, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)
4B)
Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)
đ𧥠rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)
đ Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POVÂ WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, JiÄng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)
đ Warming up (to him) by barisan (T, 9k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Hypothermia, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Temporary Character Death, Medical Inaccuracies, YZY Abuses WWX, JFM Bashing, pre-wangxian, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)
~*~
5. Hello everyone! I am on the search for case fics which are spooky and creepy! The kind of thing you would want to read to set the mood for Halloween, but it is actually July and thunderstorming and the wind is howling and you want to curl up with a scary story and a cat on your lap. Preferably everyone lives in the end, but I am down for angst or temporary character death in the in between. Thank you!!
You are what you eat by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 17k, WangXian, Graphic Depiction of Violence, Major Character Death, Canon Divergence, Eldritch WWX, Horny LWJ, Body Horror, Possession, of a sort, Cannibalism, kind of, Mild Gore, Teeth, When the eldritch abomination possessing you is less of a pining idiot than you are, I did not expect there to be so much fluff when I started writing a fic about an eldrich horror, Fluff and Humor, Smut, LWJ is so fucking thirsty, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Monster sex, Switching, Light BDSM, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Seriousness treated Crackily, Implied/Referenced Torture, Dead WWX, Podfic Available) Eldritch horror!WWX
build me no shrines by occultings (microcomets) (M, 54k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Hair Washing, Sentient Burial Mounds, Case Fic, Post-Canon, CQL Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Light Angst, Flashbacks, mild body horror, foot washing, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy..., then sexual intimacy, playing fast and loose with mdzs lore, WWX learning to accept intimacy without deflection, occasional LWJ humor agenda, đ [Podfic] build me no shrines by flamingwell)
in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Horror, Body Horror, Blood and Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Non-Consensual Body Modification, kinda??, Reflections over death and self-worth, mentions of canon suicide, Near Death Experiences, đ [Podfic] in your skin by flamingwell)
ç±äžéæ; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror, [Podfic] ç±äžéæ; never let me go by argentumlupine)
lan wangji sees dead people by mountainrain898
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6. Hi, I'm ITMF a fic where; (a) teenage wangxian meets adult wangxian maybe during cloud recess study arc and older wangxian time travel on purpose or accidentally and find themselves itn cloud recess (or something similar) (b) the other sects gather to plot against wei ying and they spy on burial mounds or find a way to view wei ying's memories (similar plot to seek and ye shall find) (c) do you know any au's where wangxian are professional gamers or play gaming competitions. @purplefuzzypickle
6A)
River Stones by littlesystems (M, 18k, WangXian, Time Travel, Post-Canon, Cloud Recesses Study arc, Junior Quartet, Oblivious WWX, Suffering LWJ, Voyeurism)
How did I end up with this Frozen Heart? by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (T, 53k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It, PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, YP!WWX, twin prides of yunmeng are horrified at the relationship between their future selves, YP!WWX has short hair, Canon Divergence, Self-Indulgent, wangxian get together early, Songfic, JC Bashing, LXC Bashing)
Timely by apathyinreverie (T, 8k, WangXian, Time Travel, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, Fix-It, Post-Canon, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Mutual Pining, wwx is sunshine personified, Smitten LWJ, Genius WWX, Romance) I'll also throw in Timely which just has Lan Wangji's spirit traveling from his teen years to when he's married to Wei Wuxian.
6B)
đ The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, CQL Verse, Golden core reveal, Fix-it of sorts, Angst with a happy ending)
6C)
simping for hanguang-jun by defractum (nyargles) (T, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, YouTubers WangXian, Fluff, Among us game, Streamer AU)
~*~
7. Hello, could you please recommend works where WY and LZ meet for the first time when they are older. For example over 30.
Thank you!
The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Misunderstandings, the title makes it sound like a cancer story, it's not a cancer story)
International Baby by AceBij (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pilot!LWJ, CFO!LWJ, Regional Manager!WWX, CEO!LXC, CEO!JC, CFO!JYL, Secretary!WQ, Meet-Cute, baby!A-Yuan, baby!JL Mpreg, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Carrier!WWX, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, WWX's canonical breeding kink, LWJ's Canonical Breed WWX Kink, Communication, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, It's only at the start and will not go into much detail, Love confessions)
Deep Dive by MimiSpearmint (E, 24k, WangXian, Modern AU, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Are Bad at Communicating, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Therapy, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Career Ending Injuries, counsellor!lwj, give lwj friends agenda, background NieLan, Melbourne, Eventual Smut, Crack, Baby JL, domestic abuse is discussed but does not happen, Baby LSZ, Baby LJY, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Good Sex Practices, Implied Slight D/s, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Cameos by various minor characters)
Breathless by tiptoe39 (E, 69k, WangXian, Fashion & Models, Modeling, Getting Together, drunk lwj, Cranky LWJ, Model!LWJ, stylist!wwx, Happy Ending, WangXian Endgame, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst and then fluff again, Mustache-Twirling Villainy Just Off Camera, JYL Deals With So Much Brother Shit, LWJ Is Working Through His Own Shit, WWX is WWX, LWJ's Bunny Obsession, MianMian Is In Charge of Shoes, JC's Issues Have Issues)
äžć±ä»äș怩 | not submitting to fate by starborst (E, 20k, WIP, WangXian, BAMF WWX, God!wwx, dream of red tower, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, but loosely based, there's a lot of oc characters & gods, Character Death, time skip, from when wwx was dead and also a god, lots of landscape description, it'll be really really slow paced) Technically it's god!WWX meeting reincarnated!LWJ bit if it's just about their relationship then this might fit! LWJ shows up at the end of chapter 3 and chapter 4 is basically just about their interactions in different situations. Might also fit for #10, seeing as LWJ is a reincarnation (I asked to make sure)
We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 316k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian's Baby Fever) I can't remember how old Wei Ying & Lan Zhan are in We Meet at the Thousandth Step but I'm quite certain they're at least in their mid- to late-20s when they meet.
~*~
8. itmf a wangxian fic where Jin Guangyao is forced to apologize to Lan Xichen for tricking into helping with Nie Mingjue's murder. Preferably a fic where wangxian comfort him afterwards. Any lxc ship is OK (xicheng, nielan, xiyao), I just want Lan Xichen to get a proper apology and for jgy to acknowledge how truly messed up it was and accept responsibility for being an asshole to poor lxc (and nmj tbh)
~*~
9. Hello! For your next ITMF, could you find me some baby trapping fics please? Whether LWJ traps WWX or WWX traps him đ€
(and I'd love you forever if you manage to find a fic where Lan Qiren think Wwx is baby trapping his precious cabbage and either it's all Part of LWJ's Plan or the baby was a mutual decision from the both of them)
Thank you!!
truly a love story for the ages by sweetlolixo (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dark!Wangxian, Power Couple, Happy Wangxian Ending, slight daddy kink, Humor, Crack, Pregnant WWX) Of course I gotta rec the mutual baby trapping fic
~*~
10. Do you have a comp fic of reincarnation? If not can you make this for next ITMF? (No comp as of yet though it is on the list! ~Mod L)
äžć±ä»äș怩 | not submitting to fate by starborst (E, 20k, WIP, WangXian, BAMF WWX, God!wwx, dream of red tower, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, but loosely based, there's a lot of oc characters & gods, Character Death, time skip, from when wwx was dead and also a god, lots of landscape description, it'll be really really slow paced) (link in #7) Technically it's god!WWX meeting reincarnated!LWJ bit if it's just about their relationship then this might fit! LWJ shows up at the end of chapter 3 and chapter 4 is basically just about their interactions in different situations.
the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by beesinspades (T, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Post-Canon, Jack of All Trades Artist WWX, Immortal! LWJ, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Reunions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Asexual Character, good vibes, [Podfic] the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by b_ofdale by Beria1021)
𧥠We Were Never Strangers by NeverEnoughWangxian (M, 36k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Modern Cultivators, POV WWX, (mostly), College Student WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Immortal LWJ, Immortal LSZ, Dreams, Pining, Sharing a Bed, brief mentions of wwx's past death(s), WangXian.mp3, Getting Together, I guess getting back together technically, Happy Ending, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content)
𧥠All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 51k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, cultivators can recognize important people from previous lives, vaguely, this started out as a cute sugar fantasy and got just incredibly horny very fast, blame LWJ)
ćżäžäșäœ çç± (can't forget your love) by PorcupineGirl (G, 25k, WangXian, Time Travel, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators AU, Canon Divergence, Time Traveler WWX, discussion of canonical character deaths, a whole lot of handwaving, conveniently localized fires, Discussion of Canonical Suicide Attempt, mostly happy but slightly bittersweet ending)
Closer Than Eternity by Netrixie (T, 26k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, an unhealthy addiction to starbucks, Immortals, cultivation is -kinda- commonplace, Self-Doubt, POV Alternating, Minor Original Character(s), Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, not for jc fans, This is not a reconciliation fic)
Have We Met Before by thelastdboy (T, 7k, WangXian, POV WWX, Modern: No Powers, First Meetings, College/University, Reincarnation, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Love Confessions, First Kiss, CSSR and WCZ Live, WWX Has a Family, Older Sibling WWX, Queer Themes, Demisexual WWX, Parent-Child Relationship, Friendship, Heteronormativity, Pining WWX, Fluff, Madam Lan Lives)
living in my memory/living in my mouth by tardigradeschool (T, 32k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Canon Divergence, College/University, Modern with Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Nightmares, Light Angst, Epistolary, (sort of), POV Alternating, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers)
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11. hi everyone! I am looking for modern cultivation aus where, this may sound redundant but ya know, cultivation is used in tandem with modern living. For example, I really liked in âThe Shade of Old Treesâ by Kryal how WWX used his cultivation to do sick tricks on a skateboard. Or in "Truth Will Out" by KizuKatana how the night hunts were filmed and uploaded to an internet forum. So yeah! Cultivation working with modern things, cool magic in tandem with modern science and tech. thanks tlm!!
speeding up my heartbeat by plonk (Not Rated, 24k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Gyms) has cultivation specific gyms and sports, with WWX doing cultivator level parkour
đ§ĄđNight of the Living History (an edutainment special!) by Aerlalaith (T, 51k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Workplace Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Museums, living history, Some Plot, Slice of Life, Injury, a minor haunting) has cultivation working (or not, as the case may be!) alongside modern tech
A Different Yarn by donutsweeper (T, 1k, WangXian, Urban Fantasy, Yarn store AU, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation) it's really short but in it knitting and crochet is used for talismans
Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, wangxian, modern cultivation, academia au, music, kid fic, action/adventure, canon-typical violence, canon-typical JGY behavior, slow burn, fluff & angst, happy ending) has modern cultivation history researcher LZ and municipal cultivation employee WWX working within (or not, on occasion!) modern day cultivation rules, laws, and customs
and so my heart beats wildly by lily_winterwood (E, 106k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Modern Cultivation, Rivalry, Competition, Competition-Set Fic, Athletes, Multimedia, Miscommunication, frenemies to lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Seemingly One-sided But Actually Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, Competitive Cultivation, Anal Sex, First Time, Angst with a Happy Ending, Olympics, Inappropriate use of an Olympic gold medal, Breathplay, Rough Sex, Food Porn, Tanabata, Lily's back on her Qixi bullshit, Switching, Bottom LWJ) has cultivation Olympics
~*~
12. Hi all! Im in the mood for Jiang yanli bashing! I want her to also be angry and entitled like Jiang Cheng and then get, well, bashed for it!
Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) I wouldn't say she's angry, but she very much expects WWX to be a doormat for the sake of keeping things how she is used to them being
Hua Xianle by Tiffany_Guinne (Not rated, 260k, hualian, wangxian, TGCF, canon divergence, not Jiang friendly, madam lan lives, WWX adopted by hualian, WWX with different name, overprotective hualian, hurt WWX, WIP) crossover with TGCF, Hualian raises WWX, plenty of Jiang bashing all around
~*~
13. for the in the mood for, may i have your most gutwrenching jiang cheng & wei wuxian sibling hurt/comfort please. preferably with reconciliation. đđŒđđŒđđŒđđŒ
ransom by alessandriana (G, 3k, JC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Dizziness, Fainting, Character is Injured while Protecting Another, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Yunmeng reconciliation, [PODFIC] ransom by Gwogobo)Â
love lies beyond words by acrosticacrumpet (G, 4k, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Whump, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, canon-typical dysfunctional relationships, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, not a completed reconciliation but the beginning of one, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Self-Worth Issues, WWX's notoriously poor self-worth vs JC's legendary rejection sensitivity: FIGHT, painful conversations with a tasteful smidgeon of, Cuddling & Snuggling)
weâre starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club)
JC and WWX's Get Along Sweater series by newamsterdam (T, 29k, JC & WWX, Trapped In A Closet, Cultivation as Plot Device, Reconciliation, Miscommunication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Novel Spoilers, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Night Hunting, Ghosts, Action/Adventure, Brotherly Love, Complicated Relationships, Yunmeng Shuangjie)
In The Dark Right Now by phnelt (T, 10k, WangXian, graphic depictions of injuries, trapped in a cave, Near Death Experience, fatalistic thinking, established wangxian, Family Feels, mention of unnamed illness of an offscreen character, Nobody dies in this fic, Alternate Universe - Modern AU, jc and wwx are caved in and lan zhan talks to them through the radio, Hurt/Comfort) if modern AU is acceptable
~*~
14. For the next itmf, can you please recommend to me some fics where Jiang Cheng raises both Jin Ling and Wen Yuan . Preferably where both or at least A-yuan knows his father is Wei Wuxian
What Remains After the War by Swan_Song (T, 44k, JC & JL, JC & LSZ, JL & LSZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, LSZ is a Jiang, Good Uncle JC, Cousins JL & LSZ, JC Needs a Hug, JC Needs Therapy, The juniors solve a mystery, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, he tries his best, LSZ Needs a Hug)
~*~
15. itmf fics where instead of lan xichen, lan wangji becomes sect leader/king/emperor/etc. With happy ending for wangxian! Any length and rating works and if there's smut, can I get top plan wangji please? And nothing where lan wangji is with someone else romantically/sexually even for a bit in the course of the fic I don't have any other triggers/squicks!
The Wrong Man by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, WIP, Sect Leader LWJ, Evil JGS, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal) Not exactly LWJ becoming sect leader *instead of* LXC, but does have LXC getting killed off in chapter 1, & LWJ becoming sect leader & instituting sweeping reforms. Still a WIP but the main story is over & is a happy ending (WWX is actually alive in this, so no having to wait for resurrection)
I Am Happy I Met You by Bhargavee00 (Not Rated, 34k, WIP, WangXian, Get a Happy Ending, Sect Leader LWJ, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Dragon LWJ, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Madam Lan Lives, Minor Madam Lan/Qingheng-jun, Qingheng-jun, Lives, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Protective LXC, Protective LQR, Good Uncle LQR, WangXian Are Soulmates, WWX Goes to Gusu, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, LWJ is So Whipped, Older LWJ, Good Older Sibling LXC, Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX is a Lan, WWX is So Whipped)
The Straightest Path by meyari (T, 30k, WangXian, NieLan, MingLi, ChengSang, war and death, Grief/Mourning, Politics, plotting for neuroatypicals, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Non-Canon Relationship, No YÄ«n Iron, Sect Leader LWJ) LXC and LQR die leaving Lan Zhan to becoming Sect Leader
𧥠Discarded by teawater (E, 260k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YL WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it's not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ)
golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)
Temptation by Karmiya (E, 23k, WangXian, JYL & WWX, WIP, Sect Leader LWJ, domestic abuse) LXC dies after the Sunshot Campaign and LZ becomes Sect Leader
~*~
16. Hii!! does this count as an itmf? if anyone knows a fic where LZ gets married or bethroted during the thirteen years but then WY comes back anything like that ?? if it doesnt it definitely should ill take anything similar tho @yesibest
patching the road with vague intentions by loosingletters (T, 39k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Humor, Developing Friendships, WWX Resurrected By Others, Trans WWX, Case Fic, POV WWX, POV LQR, Family, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, MXY Lives) To be fair, LWJs wife is the one who summons WWX into her body so it might not fully fit
Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX) For 16, if what you're looking for is wangxian struggle with their feelings for each other post ressurection while lwj is already commited to someone else, you might like Love Song in Reverse where WY comes back but without his memories so he believes he's MXY and he and LZ navigate their feelings while LZ is still commited to his feelings for WY.
~*~
17. for the next itmf what about a fic from when lwj and jc are searching for wwx when he was in the burial mounds
in our respective ways by Lise (T, 5k, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Missing Scene, Bonding, (sort of??), POV JC, Canon Compliant, that brief period of time when lwj and jc were solidly on the same page, JC's jealousy could be a third character, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Brothers, Canon Era, Not Friends to Still Not Friends, canon typical abuse of pows)
waiting, shivering by kornevable (T, 2k, JC & WWX, Introspection, Missing Scene, background wangxian)
~*~
If you didnât get an answer to your ask here, donât forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesnât have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - itâs all good!***
#wangxian#mdzs#wangxian fic recs#i'm in the mood for a fic#the untamed#wangxian fic search#wangxianficfinder#long post
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Halloweens with König headcannons đđ
Gender-neutral Reader
*Slow burn
Word Count: ~3246
*FLUFFFFFFFđżđżđâšđ©·đ©·đ
*Soft Königâșïž (but also König is a smug bastard + asshole đ), Established relationship, Single mention of (ambiguous) age gap đźâđš
đ§ĄHappy Halloween guys!!𧥠I don't celebrate Halloween myself , but im feeling đin the moodđ so i hopw this can suffice for this ooky kooky spooky season đ°đ°
Gos i wanna kms ive veen so uninspirws AAAHAHAHAHDHDHDDH this is literslly. Me rn--->đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đïżœïżœïżœïżœ fuckijg FINALLT GOT sometjing OUT đ„łđ„ł rest asusred iwont kms i need to finish my rqs first âșïžđđâš i will feel SO euphoric when all the WIPS will become Completed Works !! đđIm just gonna not post until i gdt smth donw bci hate giving false promises its the same as lyijg,đżđż
Tag List ⥠@simpforkonig ⥠@abysslovesyou ⥠@puff0o0 â @rustic-guitar-notes â @happy-mushrooms ⥠@reyner-lee â @lotionlamp ⥠@trepaika â @luci4theminorannoyance
...
König wasn't really one for Halloween.
Hadn't ever been, really, as he hadn't been raised to celebrate it.
In his household, he hadn't had much exposure to the Western "Hallow's Eve".
Besides, even if he was familiar with the tradition, his parents didn't bother celebrating those kinds of trivialities; after all, they certainly weren't going to bother wasting hard-earned money on trifles like pumpkins, just so they'd rot on the front porch, or candy that would rot your teeth, or on vulgar masks that depicted serial killers and monsters, too blasphemous to bear.
Plus, his neighbourhood didn't partake in "Trick-or-treat'ing" at all, and wouldn't leave any candy for any children â wouldn't do anything, really.
Nobody decorated their house with ghouls and ghosts, nobody dressed up as vampires or murderers, nobody jumped from behind corners to shout "Boo!".
None of that, as these ideas were childish. Infantile. Juvenile, even.
Thus, October 31st, König's Austrian villiage was quiet. So eerily quiet you'd had thought it was a ghost town had it not been for hundreds of cloaked figures in the cemetary â as, for König, "Halloween" tended to be a more sombre occasion in comparison to the American/English versions.
Instead of running around and knocking on people's doors with a broad, lopsided smile like other children ought, he was brought along to visit the graves of his family members: graves of his ancestors, which he'd be told about in detail, details of the person buried six feet under the stone slab; information and stories passed down from generations.
He would be taught to honour those deceased in his family and respect their memory, to remember those in the afterlife and what they sacrificed to get there.
Carrying a lamp, he'd light candles on those decrepit gravestones, text faded and illegible, while his parents left boquets of flowers, and pulled up their long black cloaks. Silently paying their respects.
While it wasn't necessarily a day of mourning â König never needed tissues to wipe any tears or blow his nose, and neither did anyone else in the family â it was far graver when compared to the Halloween holidays elsewhere.
However, König's memories of Halloween were few, far, and in-between.
Whenever he'd hear of other people's experiences, he was never nostalgic, as, the times that he did attend those familial ceremonies he was either too young to understand what was happening, or knew too little of the deceased[s] in question to be moved by the heavy atmosphere.
Not only that, but the time period was overwhelmingly solemn, with people flooding the burial grounds, some murmuring prayers, others with tears in their eyes.
There was no laughter, no treats, no fun costumes. Not even tricks. Just suffocating depression all around.
So, he didn't really associate the celebration with something to celebrate: what, celebrating the deaths of your family? That was quite morbid, when he thought about it, and he wasn't going to dedicate an entire month every year to remind himself of death with so many other operators around him falling on the battlefield, and having had faced the grim reaper himself several times already.
Hence, every 31st of October, he did nothing. Didn't acknowledge it at all.
But all that changed one fateful day in September. When he finally acknowledged it, all right (with a little of your help of course)!
You had asked König in passing if he had considered dressing up as something for Halloween. Maybe what he had considered doing on the evening. Or if he had plans to attend the autumn fair sometime soon.
His response? A blank look. Distant recognition.
For a quiet moment, you thought he was scowling at you, silently ridiculing your childish suggestion.
Then: "Halloween? Ah!" An amused chuckle, endeared by the child-like curiosity in your eyes, and a silent sigh of relief from you.
"I don't celebrate it, myself, meine liebe. But you're welcome to tell me what your costume is. I'd love to hear all about it, maus."
Mortified by this revelation, you couldn't let this go.
"What do you mean you "don't celebrate it"? You have got to be joking!"
Wide eyes, and jaw agape, you were in disbelief.
He simply shook his head with a strained smile. "I've just never seen it as something to celebrate, you know? No reason to."
Taking it upon yourself to prove him wrong, you wasted no time converting this skeptic into a believer. "Oh no, there is. I mean, it's Halloween! Everyone is crazy for it!"
Suddenly, your eyes lit up. A wave of adrenaline crashing into you, you tugged König's arm in direction of the couch.
"That's where we'll start! We're gonna watch Halloween! That'll surely get you in the spirit."
You winked at him, satisfied. Then, a sudden snort and a suppressed chortle, hand cupped over your mouth as you laughed at your pathetic attempt at a joke.
König cocked his head to the side in confusion, but let you hastily scramble for blankets, pillows, and to microwave bowls of popcorn, as he made himself comfortable on the couch cushions that sank in protest under his weight.
Initially, he was reluctant. Not necessarily looking forward to being forced to watch movies from the 80sâ00s, over-the-top movies with subpar acting, to say that he was looking forward to it would have been a stretch.
However, seeing how passionate you were about the holiday, your interests, König didn't want your sweetness sour.
Yes, he was a little older than you, and perhaps didn't grasp what there was to fuss over, but he wasn't about to spoil your good mood, or dampen that excitement just because he didn't personally understand or was interested personally. He wanted to make an effort, for you.
Vowing to take part in your silly shenanigans, he swore to become involved in the festivities in order to see you smile. To keep seeing you smiling.
After that, every October evening you'd watch a movie â a (usually) corny horror classic, though spending most nights binging all the Screams, Halloweens, Chuckys, The Shinings, Saws, and Evil Deads, â huddled under moutains of blankets and stuffing your faces with toffee-flavoured popcorn.
Watching horror films with him was like being lectured on common-sense and taught self-defence lessons in real time, though. Not like you minded, but it really got rid of the edge and the tension in its entirety.
Instead of paying attention to the storyline, it's more likely König would catch on to the stupid decisions the characters and the shitty attempts to fight back, and he wouldn't be able to help commenting:
"Why did she leave the knife in him? In his abdomen, of all places? Now the murderer has a weapon! Should have taken it out and left him to bleed out. But noooo, nein, leave the knife there."
"Going into the forest on his own? In the night? With a killer on the loose? Mein Gott, he is such a dummkopf! Bring a friend, why don't you?"
"Liebling, why is there so much gore? Isn't this rated "15"? Wait, and why is there a lady with no shirt? This is supposed to be scary, ja? I'm very scared. Scared you'll slap me, actually, if I don't keep looking at my lap."
Angrily ranting at the television, you'd gently reassure him, that, "Sweetie, this is fiction. Sometimes, the scenes are unrealistic." "But it said "based on real events"! I swear, liebling, if I watch another ten minutes of this I'll have a headache. I can't comprehend the stupidness."
Tough crowd, that couldn't really immerse himself in the plot, but you took a note or two for the sorts of horror movies König wouldn't dislike.
Although he insulted all the characters for being stupid and ridiculed all the characters for being so brainless, he would begrudgingly admit that he enjoyed the movie, pointing out some of his favourite scenes.
Self-aware comedic slashers meant he could suspend disbelief and laugh out loud a little, while, movies with an omnipotent monster meant he couldn't criticise any inaccuracies. He didn't winge at those as much in comparison to major blockbuster films. In fact, he even preferred low budget movies, ones that were pure comedic relief and so self-aware that he wouldn't be able to help but laugh along, unable to hide his amusement.
Afterwards, at exactly midnight, you'd be huddled together in the dark under a thick blanket, gorging your mouth with sugary sweets and bite-size chocolates (also indulging in chocolates that were far from bite-size), giggling like lunatics (well, that was mostly you, but König joined in to keep you company).
Later, face serious, with a torch under your chin, you'd be whispering hushedly with a tone of foreboding, voice low, and words ominous:
"Drip. Drip. Dripping water. She had checked the bathroom taps, the kitchen taps, and they were twisted tightly closed. A leakage, perhaps? Or, perhaps, something else. As she roamed the corridor, the drip-drip-drip of liquid grew louder. And louderâ"
"Ah, she should call her plumber, then, shouldn't she?" A sure shit-eating smirk that was obscured by his mask, but the way his eyes were squinting you knew he was taking the piss.
Of course, storytelling was not as haunting as you would have had liked it to be: König would interject, interrupting the aura of mystery and the medatitive atmosphere, with sarcastic remarks. It made the narrations really melodramatic in the end, and frustrated you to no end.
Still, you would groan, and, undaunted by his immature antics â as, mind you, this was a grown-ass man, a 6'10 wall of muscle messing around like this, teasing you not like the cocky Colonel he was but a snarky teenage boy â continue:
"âshe walked on â despite having been rudely interrupted moments prior â and her heart sank. Blood. A puddle of it, on the floor, looking like gallons upon gallons of it hadâ"
"Maybe she was â ah, what's the word?" A thoughtful pause, hand where his chin was under the fabric "â menustrating? Was she wearing white pants, maybe?"
"âMenstruating, König â and stop ruining my horror narration! Now I've lost the plot! Okay â against her will, her eyes moved up the wall, following the dripping blood. To her horror, it was coming from the attic. Swallowing the heavy lump in her throat, she pulled open the hatch with jittering fingers, grip slackened by the warm sweat on her palms, knees threatening to buckle. And, when the trap door released, she gasped. Blood draining her face, she sawâ"
An exaggerated gasp from König, as he clasped his hands over his mouth in mock shock. "Sheâ she sawâ your mother! Mein Gott, the horror!"
"Shut up, König!" An annoyed huff, and shuffling away. "Honestly, you're such a killjoy..."
König, scooping you into his arms when you turned around with crossed arms, pouting lips, and furrowed brows, nuzzed his masked face into your neck, chuckling heartily. You squirmed under his hold, fabric tickling your sensitive neck, and you'd desperately hold back your giggles, trying hard to keep a straight face.
"Ja, ja, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Es tut mir leid, meine Liebe. Please keep going. What did she find in the attic?"
"No! You made me forget the grand reveal, now! I forgot what was up there, anyways..."
Walking around the house, you'd have the fright of your life when a huge shadow would jump in front of you at odd hours of the day.
"Boo!" König's voice resounded, loud and reverberating.
And you screamed, damn near verging on a heart attack.
"Shoving" him in frustration â you became actually even more frustrated when the man was like a solid wall and did not even budge a millimetre â König was quick to console you.
Doting over you, a wide smile on his face that the mask couldn't hide, he would be so overly lovey-dovey with you in an attempt to win back your affection that you'd roll yours eyes so far they'd end up in the back of your head.
"Meine liebe, I'm sorry for scaring you. I couldn't resist. You'll forgive me, won't you? You will, right? Please say yes."
You insisted you would, seemingly unassuming, then schemed to startle him at odd hours of the night as payback for losing your dignity in that moment.
At one point, you had even waited half an hour in the wardrobe while he was showering, only to jump out and see König in only a towel.
Yeah, you were the one that got jumpscared instead, face erupting in red despite you two being together for months at that point. You gave up trying to spook him then, bitterly accepting defeat.
Though, going along with your silly little activities, like going shopping for Halloween decorations, made König's heart swell seeing you bounce around excitedly and point out all the ornaments.
He didn't quite consent to you buying a life-size skeleton to call him Greg and place him in your shared bedroom. That was one step too far.
Still, seeing the wonder on your face, in awe of all the masks, costumes, decorations, and animated mannequins that'd cackle after triggering their mechanisms made his steel-blue eyes soften, melting into pure love and devotion for you.
So, to humour you one day, and to lift your mood after scaring you that one morning, König made two eye-holes in a white blanket, running after you around the house, almost tripping over it in his haste.
"Ooooo-ooo!" he moaned in over-dramatised agony, voice low yet playful. "This is not König, but his ghooost! Run, liebling, or you'll be neeext!"
Hearing him say that in his Austrian accent was so hilarious that were tears running down your cheeks from how hard you'd be laughing, and your sides splitting with the laughter, struggling scramble away, giggling.
Those moans of agony would become genuine cries in pain when he'd accidently hit his head on the doorframe when he forgot to duck in his excitement. The one time that bulky helmet of his could have come to use.
Despite all that, you'd be cornered against the wall, with nowhere to run, and König would pounce, tickling your sides viciously.
That broad smile on your face and the expression was worth fooling around and making a fool of himself.
He even didn't mind having you coo over his "injury" just like how he had when he was doting over you, because he loved you so much.
And, he loved you so much, that he even allowed you to "decorate" his gear. "To make it appropriate for the spooky season!" you had insisted, and he'd comply, not wanting to dull that sparkle in your eyes.
So contented with painting an intricate monster on his mask with fluorescent orange paint, you didn't notice König watching you hunched over the desk from behind, leaning against the doorframe with a loving smile on his face.
You hadn't expected that he'd wear that gear on base â veil, knee pads, helmet, and all â strutting his stuff. Just to remind everyone that their Colonel had a lovely spouse back home.
What you hadn't anticipated was how quickly König would start enjoying the season. Unexpectedly, he became obsessed with Halloween â his favourite tradition, second only to Christmas.
Carveling hollowed-out pumpkins of all shapes and sizes was one of his favourite past-times.
You'd think that with his size he'd struggle to cut through the orange crust without crushing it into pumpkin-coloured mush in his fists, but you'd be forgetting that he was skilled with a knife.
That said, König wasn't artistic. At all. The best he could produce would be a lopsided smiling caricature of... something. A nondescript creature, which you had complimented him on being so cute, only for him to angrily insist that it was an evil monster, and not cute at all.
Still, you would snap a picture before he could object, and give this pumpkin the spotlight on your front porch, soon many more following suit. Jack'o'lanterns illuminating your front step, glowing gold.
The sweet scent of cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla extract filled your house, new freshly-baked treats from the oven laid out on the kitchen island daily.
Delicious aroma of sugary pastry, homemade banana bread with small hints of vanilla and sprinkled with icing sugar, candied oranges and sour, sherbet lemon cakes, crunchy cinnamon sugar pumpkin seeds ("Made from the pumpkin guts!" you exclaimed with a smile of pride, König's eyes smiling in delight of your enthusiasm).
Crumbly shortbread in the shape skulls and bats, round cookies with orange and black icing resembling pumpkins, sponge cakes that oozed thick raspberry and strawberry jam when you bit into them ("Because they were bleeding blood," you proclaimed, a devilish smirk on your face â or, something like it, as to König you were the cutest angel he'd had ever been blessed to be around), and so, so, so much more.
So much that your weekly trips to the supermarket became biweekly, until you two found yourselves stocking up on sugar, flour, eggs, and butter far too often to keep track of.
The house was so inviting, especially to little ones from the neighbourd, that their mouths were agape and their eyes sparkled as they passed your "haunted house", holding the hands of their parent(s).
Mentioned in an earlier post that König has a soft spot for children, he'd stock up on Halloween candy and treats, and lug bucketfuls of sweets on the doorstep for any little ones that'd knock on your door to cheerfully cry out in unison, full of glee: "Trick or treat!"
He'd welcome them with open arms, but, with most of them being so little, they'd point with bulging eyes the giant on the doorstep, to be harshly reprimanded by their mothers and fathers for their ignorance and rudeness.
Few would say much after seeing König the giant, and after daring to scoop a handful of confectionary, bowing their heads and avoiding his eyes would mumble a shaky "...Th-thank you, s-sirâ!"
One of them, however â a little girl with rosy cheeks donning white stockings and a gold tinsel halo â beamed brightly, albeit shyly, at König, thanking him for the treat and his generosity. An innocent, toothy smile that made her squint from how high it reached her eyes, her front baby teeth missing.
When she had her back turned to you two, she ran as fast as her chubby little legs could take her, and exclaimed, "Mommy! Mommy! That giant is a big and friendly one! A big, friendly giant. Can we go again, please? Please?"
It was only when you nudged König with your elbow, grinning, when she had skipped happily away, that he had realised he had tears in his eyes.
Moreover, maybe the memories König had of Halloween weren't so cheerful, or ones even worth remembering in the first place; after all, his childhood wasn't so cheerful. Joyless, and with little life.
But, with the way that Halloween was shaping up to be, he was already looking forward to the special celebration.
So full of life the you two were, you would laugh at the irony â animated and living the dream, while celebrating the day of the day. It brought you two to more laughter.
And, with you, König could make new ones, ones that you'd look back on fondly years from now, and those grueling months on deployment.
...
Note: Went off experience here for the beginning, guysđ«Ąđ«Ą for the mowt part i have never celebrated Halloweenđ° only a couple times in Poland, and once in England when i drank tomato juice and prwtended it was blood and i was a vampiređ€Ș,
, but I Googled "Halloween in Austria" /Germany" to clarify whether I wasn't just speaking outta my ass and König here would have celebrated it differently to how I had in Poland đcuz, yknow, im not egocentric ajd the world doesnt celebrate things the same way Poles do đ...
...And, no, I wasn't !âșïžâšâš(... sort ofđ
... As far as I know, Germany has adopted the West's Halloween, ans theres pumpkin carving competitiomsn stuff, while Austria does indeed celebrate it slightly differently) .
Because I have no fuckijg idea of König's nationaloty anymore as it KEEOS CHANGING, I got the vest of both worlds đ„Čđ„Č
Also been really busy guysđ°đ°đ°by busy i mean stressing out ovee not writing then proceeding to NOT write bc im stressedâ€ïžâ€ïžđ„° you know jow it is!! đ€(đ«) its ok tjoâ€ïž(no it isnt) ill work tjis oit somejowđ„č(no i wont im gonna kms) đ„°đ„°
Have a very spooky halloween guys<3Feel bad foe those that are buying candy bc not onky is it smallwe than last uear but its more expensive đđ
#aking10592_ âćœĄ#König#könig#Konig#konig#König x you#könig x you#Konig x you#konig x you#könig x fem reader#konig x reader#könig x reader#konig x female reader#könig x male reader#konig x male reader#könig x gender neutral reader#könig x gn reader#konig x gn!reader#könig headcanons#konig headcannons#König cod#könig cod#konig cod#könig call of duty#konig call of duty#könig mw2#konig mw2#könig modern warfare#konig modern warfare#cod headcanons
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âïž - Toughest aspect of my WIP
@leebrontide also asked me this, tagging for ref!
i'm going to answer for each of my big projects rn:
so it goes: easy -- balancing the plot's needs and what i need the characters to experience. i'm struggling to nail down the sweet spot between the heady, character-driven, emotional experience and the actual plot.
the space between pomegranate seeds: i've hit a road block with outlining it because it's very end-heavy. i know exactly where to go but i'm struggling with the first third or so, trying to figure out more real life to pair with the dreams.
decomposing gods: this one is honestly my pleasure project rn -- it takes almost no effort and just flows easily. i'm currently drafting Narcissus and it's been so easy to write. if there's a toughest part, it's probably the research for Garden of Gethsemane; i'm struggling to pare down what all i need to read to dig in to writing.
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maybe itâs because of all the Fun New Backstory Things iâve just come up with for him but i have fiver on the brain and am specifically thinking so much about how heâs a good and kind person who has had to fight incredibly hard to be a good and kind person.
like. without going to much into all his shit it wouldâve been ridiculously easy for fiver to fall off the deep ends at many, many points in his life. and in a way he kind of did. he grew up in an environment that actively fostered all his worst traits and only made his pre-existing issues worse with zero checks and balances in place and no support network for him to fall back on when he imploded. and even once he eventually got out he was incredibly angry and bitter and confused about what tf he was supposed to do, and at first he rejected every opportunity of help that was offered to him until circumstances actively forced him to. he is, fundamentally, distrusting of people (for very good reason) and that was one of the first things he had to confront to get him to where he is now.
and heâs self-centred! and heâs petty! and heâs horribly horribly selfish! and above all of that he LIES! oh my GOD does he LIE! this man is 90% falsehood by volume. but heâs also very very self aware. he knows these are flaws and that they are core to who he is but also that if he falls back into letting them be what he bases his worldview on heâll be up shits creek by himself with nowhere to go. his first family taught him to be cruel, his second showed him what kindness could look like, and tbh part of him is kind of terrified of really being authentic bc heâs so scared that deep down his true self really is that volatile teenager willing to fuck basically anyone over as long as it meant 0 consequences for him. and part of why it scares him is because it would be so easy. he only started on the path to the person he is today because he was mentally dragged into it kicking and screaming and itâs been incredibly difficult every step of the way.
but back then he didnât have to care about people, and now he does and he cares so fucking much that itâs almost painful. so he canât give up no matter how simple it would be, because it would hurt the people he loves and more than that he knows it would hurt him. bc heâs healthier than heâs ever been even though itâs a struggle every day. heâs learned to be gentle to other people but more than anything heâs learned to be gentle with himself and thereâs something fragile in that. like he could make one mistake and be back to being seventeen and not being able to leave his car that heâs been camped out in for 3 weeks without water. his first impulse is still to snap at people when they reach out to him, to just assume heâs right, to look away from what makes him hurt and pretend it isnât there. but he doesnât. he doesnât because he knows that him and the people he loves deserve better. the jokes and the cherry red heart-shaped sunglasses and the tarot cards and the embroidered trenchcoat arenât just things he likes. theyâre battle armour.
kindness and gentleness donât come naturally to him, theyâre something heâs had to learn as heâs learned how to heal, and honestly i love it so much.
#also the inverse that creates with agnes being a truly kind kid forced to be cruel#and pallas being a kid who never really got the chance to be kind in the first place#and how fiver is one of the only people who has literally never given up on the idea that pallas could *be* a better person#bc he knows!!! he knows firsthand what clawing your up from that kind of pit is like!!!!!!#he sees SO much of himself in both these kids and he wants to be there for them how he wishes someone had been there for him#but he does have a habit of overprojecting? in a way?#thatâs something that i want explore more later on in the trilogy especially in regards to agnes and he relationship to her family#idk he needs to learn to sort of take a step back? but itâs really hard for him to accept that#anyways fiver is selfish and manipulative and a massive massive capital L Liar and he is also the best person in the main cast#bc heâs TRYING and heâs worked so hard to get to where he is right now#and that means a lot idk#he is full of LOVE ok he CARES ABOUT PEOPLE#wip: ghost story#fiver
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Aw balls. I almost forgot an intro
Hi, I'm Katie! I'm a writer with two ongoing wips that I like yammering about, so ima do it here!
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 20
Other interests: art, dnd, the Magnus Archives, anything Cosmere related, martial arts, Critical Roll
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My wips are set in the same universe, on the planet of Illaros, fifth from the last star left living in the universe. There's a continent, some islands, and other assorted junk down there. The gods have a dyson ring, but they don't like to talk about it. The stars are the eyes of an ancient primordial force of destruction.
Honor's Outcasts follows a rag-tag group of delinquents trying to survive psycho pirates with family ties, a siren theocracy, magic that rots in your blood, and the Horrors. Their number includes such mighty heros as: a kid who can explode people with her mind, a buff shark lady who survives regular eldritch encounters by not paying attention, a mute aroace siren man with a bitchy attitude, and the world's sweetest gang mamber. Of course, they're one big family, and what's family without a little religious terrorism?
The Mystery of the Mortal God asks what happens when magic and science collide in a world where ethics panels haven't been established yet. Set a few decades down the line from HO, this story follows a cowboy witch with a chip on her shoulder as she discovers a mysterious robot laying broken and confused on the side of the road. At the same time, in a city on the other side of the globe, a blue blooded detective investigates a cold case suddenly gone hot. In time, all players will meet, including the mage who set this whole conundrum in motion.
The Final Voyage of the R.S. Starbreaker is sci-fi with ghosts! More accurately, as the magical societies of Illaros take their first steps into space, they don't use unmanned probes, but instead call upon the gods to send ghosts to be bound to a mighty runic galleon: the R.S. Starbreaker. This first skeleton crew consists of an honorable former Flying City pilot with a seedy past, a brash elven astronomer infamous for her incomplete work, a meticulous selkie cartographer determined to map the solar wheel, a laid-back fae man with a dangerous set of ideals, and the key to this mission's success: a former part of an eldritch hive mind on a hunt for his extinct people's missing afterlife.
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Anyways, if you're here, feel free to say hi! I'll mostly be posting whatever bullshit comes to mind, but maybe you'll get lucky and something entertaining will come out? I certainly hope so!
Have a bitchin' day <3
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An addition! Here are my characters' playlists! (And intros for those who have them) (All instrumental because I can't write while listening to vocals)
Izjik Meautammera +intro
Sepo Kaiacynthus +intro
Twenari Devaris +intro
Djek Kagura +intro
Daedryn Whitenight
Astra DuClaire +intro
Mashal Darezsho +intro
Ivander Montane +intro
Elsind Cavernsight +intro
Avymere Spearsong +intro
Ghost Ship Radio + wip intro (for the Starbreaker crew)
(Curious as to which character you might relate to the most? Here are some quizzes that might help you out!) (First is for MG and HO, second is for Starbreaker)
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A second addition! Please feel welcome to check out my new Illaros library! These are short stories written (mostly) in my setting that I've shared before on here, but I figured I'd put all the links in one place :)
Down in the Deep Dark - 2,500 words - The tale of how Izjik and Sepo met
Violating the 4th - 11,000 words - Coverage of the first Surgeon case from the POV of Ceyrel (Ivanderâs detective partner)
Rel's Haunting - 16,000 words - A story of a fallen angel, the dead god who made them, and finding wonder in the supermarket
Full Saturation - 2,000 words - A short horror story set on modern Earth about saturation diving and places better left untouched
And for some one-shots:
Mashal and Ivander hanging out
Izjik making Sepo a flute in the Trench
The cast of Mortal God gets a beach episode
Mashal teaches Astra to ride a horse
Again, have a bitchin' day <3
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Fanfic Master Post:
Life, Death, and In Between
DC X DP: Demon Twins AU (Danny Fenton/Damian Wayne Twin AU)
Teen Titans/ Young Justice/ Danny Phantom inspired
Alternating POV
Lots of Angst
Experimentation/Dissection
BatFam
Ghost King!Danny
Ghost Biology/ Ghost instincts
Identity shenanigans
Large Overarching mystery plot
Current Word Count: 92,014
Current Chapter Count: 26
Updates Monthly
~2k-5k Word Updates
Last Updated: 08/11/2024
r/AITA for not wanting to clean the BASEMENT?
DP X DC
Inspired by a Tumblr Prompt
Crack treated seriously
Alternating POV
Danny posts on Reddit about being forced to clean the basement.
Superman to the rescue
Hero Shenanigans
Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton
Found Family
Current Word Count: 21,547
Current Chapter Count: 16
Updates Bi-Monthly
~1k-3k Word Updates
Last Updated: 10/05/2024
Ghost Owl
DC X DP
Alternating POV
Danny adopted by Lincoln March AU
Lab accident happens earlier AU
Talon!Lincoln March
Trained as a Talon!Danny
Child Danny Fenton
BatFam Centric
Bruce Wayne and Lincoln March are brothers
Uncle!Bruce Wayne
Angst
Found Family
Current Word Count: 9,130
Current Chapter Count: 3
Updates Sporadically
~3k-5k Word Updates
Last Updated: 10/05/2024
Bruce Wayneâs Home for Wayward Clones
DC Batman/BatFam
DC doesnât treat their child-clones well so theyâre MINE NOW.
Angst
Comedy
Hurt/Comfort
Crack treated seriously
Worldâs Okayest Dad Bruce Wayne
Bruce tries to be a good dad, starts with collecting clones.
Different origin story for Heretic
Heretic (Damianâs Clone) lives.
Adopted!Respawn
Bruce Wayneâs Clone lives
Current Word Count: 720
Current Chapter Count: 1
Updates Sporadically
Last Updated: 06/28/2024
Upcoming WIPS and Fic Prompts/Ideas:
Of Bats and Brothers: Jason Todd escapes the league with Damian, Mara Al-Ghul, and Respawn. Featuring: Big Brother of the Year/ Parental Jason Todd, Good Mom Talia Al-Ghul, terror twins Mara and Damian
Said Cain to Abel: Damian and Respawn escape the league as young children, slowly make their way to family. Featuring: extreme Sibling Rivalry, hurt/comfort, father figure!Dick Grayson
Harry Potter Time-Travel fic I am contractually obligated to write as an AO3 author.
#fanfic masterlist#fanfic author#DC X DP#dc comics#batfam#batman#dick grayson#danny phantom#nightwing#damian wayne#jason todd#red hood#dc#lincoln march#Talon!Lincoln March#superman#clark kent#found family#Dissection AU#Burried Alive AU#court of owls#guys in white#uncle!Bruce#bruce wayne is a good dad#Bruce Wayne and Lincoln March are brothers#ghost king danny#Demon Twins AU#danny and damian are twins#works in progress#life death and in between
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Aquaticmercyâs General Masterlist
I write about MCU / Marvel Comics characters.
I have written for Bucky Barnes, Agatha Harkness, and Sam Wilson.
I have WIPs for Yelena Belova, Carol Danvers, and Natasha Romanoff.
My stories may have adult themes. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Bucky Barnes
One Shots
Beautiful Mess
Bucky tries to cook you a food youâve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.
Almost Kisses
Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasnât always that way.
All These Things That I've Done
In which Bucky leaves behind a loving note every time he goes on a mission. But what happens when you stumble on a letter not meant to be found⊠yet?
In Another Life
Bucky is certain you only see him as a friend. It only took him travelling to a different reality to realise otherwise.
Comfortable and Easy
You are the only person Bucky could ever spend a domestic evening with.
Bloodstains and Daydreams
You and Bucky fantasize about starting a family while tending to each otherâs wounds.
Under my Skin
Bucky is always ready to give his girl cuddles.
Hot Chocolate?
Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and canât find you.
Do Humans Dream of Normal Sheep?
Generations ago, your family was cursed to never sleep. Now that the curse is broken, Bucky helps you rest by telling you a bedtime story.
Of Black Ink and White Lillies
Bucky wants to get a tattoo, so he asks you for advice.
Morning Coffee
A drabble in which he makes you coffee every morning, without fail.
The Great Wave
Bucky would do anything to make his girl happy. He would even risk his life to get you the perfect gift.
Altar Ghosts
While on a mission with Bucky Barnes, youâre forced to confront your ex-fiancĂ©, who left you at the altar. Bucky helps you realize you deserve far better than the man who broke your heart.
Happily Ever Eventually
Sam and Yelena are helping you and Bucky plan your wedding.Â
Love in Full Bloom
Bucky thinks everything he touches dies, but the plants in your apartment prove otherwise.
Dangerous Game
Bucky Barnes is dating a trigger-happy antihero, and she has him wrapped around her finger. Sheâs just Buckyâs pretty girl, and he lets her get away with everything.
Temple
Bucky Barnes is struggling to say âI love you,â so he says other things to make sure you know he cares.
Breaking Point
You and Bucky had always hated each other. When Bucky gets injured during a mission, you start wondering if the hatred was just masking something else.
Strays
Bucky has a soft spot for strays.
Soft Lights
A drabble in which you and Bucky get high together.
Kickoff
A drabble in which Bucky tries supporting your favourite football team.
Hypothetically: Version 1 / Version 2
The Thunderbolts* crew gossip about Bucky's love life / Your ragtag group of supernatural superheroes gossip about your love life. (A one-shot told in two perspectives!)
Sleeper
When Bucky falls in love with the antihero heâs sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts*.
Match
You finally found your intellectual match in Bucky Barnes.
Full Throttle
Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic.Â
The Catalyst
In this universe, you and Bucky are happy. In other universes, it might not be that simple.
Series / Multi-parts
Of Heroes and Heartstings Masterlist (Completed)
Bucky Barnes develops a crush on the researcher who interviewed him.
Waste a Moment Masterlist (Ongoing)
Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Dark Necessities Masterlist (Ongoing)
You drink Buckyâs blood out of necessity and accidentally form a primal bond that has the ability to unlock an ancient ritual magic.
My Own Soul's Warning + Supporting Stories Masterlist (Ongoing)
This is a series of one-shots that revolve around you, a cosmic entity who falls in love with Bucky Barnes and sacrifices everything.
Agatha Harkness
One Shots
To be Loved
A drabble in which Agatha makes sure you can never die.
Perfection
You and Agatha are on a perfect picnic date when its started raining. Why not dance in the rain?
Safe and Sound
You have been cursed. Agatha will stop at nothing to destroy the witch that cursed you.
Sam Wilson
One Shots
The Future's Overdue
A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.
Carol Danvers
One Shots
Peace and Quiet
A drabble in which Carol always seems to run off to save a distant galaxy before breakfast.
Multi-character Blurbs
Bucky, Steve, and Sam as dads
Bucky is a girl dad, Steve is a boy dad, and Sam has both!
â
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha all along#agatha harkness imagine#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#Agatha harkness imagine#sam wilson imagine#sam wilson imagines#sam wilson#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel mcu#mcu fandom#mcu fanfiction#Aquaticmercy masterlist#masterlist
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