#Honorable mention Slow Dancing In a Burning Room

[the-lonelybarricade]

Top 5 MB fics?

LOL this is the most difficult ask probably EVER. There's a lot of @separatist-apologist fic I've yet to explore and every one I've read has been a masterpiece so I'm sure my top 5 will be missing some gems.

They Say I Did Something Bad

Is There A Word For Bad Miracle?

Wonderland

I'll Bet You Think About Me

All He Thinks About Is Me

[witchmoon]

by our red string of fate.

Part 1

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem! Reader 

Summary: Aemond returns to King’s Landing for Aegon’s name day celebration during the midst of war. Immediately he regrets his decision to join the festivities, threatening an existential crisis, but then a mysterious beauty catches his attention - intriguing his jaded heart. It’s an unlikely place and the most inconvenient of times, but somehow he's renewed by the prospect that he could finally have a love he’s never known. 

Word Count: 4.6k 

Author’s Note: Third person perspective, reader/she (Y/N) is from an unspecified house with limited knowledge of the Targaryens. Some deviation of timelines and of HOTD canon/ details. Multi-part wip / slow burn, angst, eventual NSFW (lots!), language, soft feels.

I just want to write about Aemond falling in love, so the story is hyper-focused on the two mains-only without a lot of scene setting and background regarding the dance. Hope you stick around and enjoy! Comments/asks welcomed. LMK if you want to be tagged.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

don’t stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. though i know it’s blinding, there’s a way out. say out loud, we will not give up on love now.

Sometimes Aemond wonders why he still shows up for shit like this, especially when the attendance is so insufferable. Not that he doesn’t occasionally enjoy hearing his name mentioned in mixed tones of reverence and fear when he returns home.

Admittedly, he does find the soft whispers amongst the crowd of highborn families that his mother insists on periodically inviting to court dryly amusing, but only just.  

The attention can also prove a nice stroke to his ego every once in awhile, but it isn’t important to him the way it might have been before the war started. The pointed compliments and overt side-glances his way seem particularly insincere, holding no significance, as every person in the room fails to override his growing boredom.

Heavens save me.

Aemond begins to seethe at the fuckery of it all, and the night continues to progress with no clear end in sight. Time passes and with every moment that it does, his interest in remaining present depletes.

It’s unsurprising in consideration of how the conversations stay surface-level, lacking quality as the topics float weightless and repeating, forever removed from reality. Even with so many moon turns passed, everything still seems to remain relatively ordinary. No- dull as shit, he internally counters. Its personally stifling within the confines of the Red Keep.

He hates it here. The lack of evolution disappoints Aemond, even despite his expectation already residing at an all-time low. But what could be expected? Certainly nothing more from the self-indulgent snobs so far up their own asses as they regale in false self-importance, and definitely not when they maintain this guise for their foolish king’s name day celebration. What a farce.

His train of thought compels him to consider the raised dais where his idiot brother currently sits, already several cups deep into his spirits. Aemond can’t help but roll his eye, a habit he’s no longer keen to conceal. He’s grown tired of putting on fronts, especially for his family, wearing his emotions more easily on his sleeve so to speak.

Disdain and bitterness reignite at the sight of Aegon, selfish prick that he is, weaving back into Aemond’s marrow as he reflects on the many sacrifices he continues to make in the name of honor, loyalty and duty. And for fucking what?

i don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though i may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful…

The wine is weak, the food is tasteless and the music - abhorrent. He swears he’s going to gut the damn jester that keeps circling the main floor if he sees him again, envisioning the crimson pool that would undoubtedly ruin his newly polished boots in his mind’s eye, were he to act on the impulse.

It wouldn’t be worth it and Mother would be none too pleased…

Convincing himself of this, it’s actually not lost on him that he’s spent his entire life actually living within and throughout this ever-growing debacle. So many nights just like this, and the irony of such staggering a truth becomes too fucking rich. He blames his father most of all for this, but there are other factors too, ideas less congruent, but convincing all the same- he’s been cursed since birth.

His aversion to remain in this hall, in the entirety of this damnable Keep, only builds. The mood of Aemond is a transformative black and he’s past annoyance when more people fill the space, to the point it feels like everything probably should implode on itself. And he can’t say he wouldn’t welcome this, even if it meant his own demise, because at this point who fucking cares?

but when i move into the world, it feels like a moral fall- like seeking love in a whorehouse.

Alas, it does not. But the cynicism within him just keeps expanding. He can only blame himself. Just lay in it then, and try to be civilized.

Truth be told, the appeal for him to do anything these days that didn’t include partaking in the plotting for destruction and so many endless deaths during war meetings, or patrolling for visible threats from the sky on Vhagar had been strong. He’s convinced it must have been in a moment of weakness, during one of his deep bouts of loneliness, that the invitation bearing raven had conveniently arrived to him.

Aemond can’t justify any other reason than this, for he’d made haste to King’s Landing without any true forethought upon receipt of his mother’s handwritten request. Why had he been so easily swayed? Was it because life of late felt reduced to boring days, an unknown future, an irregular sleep, repeat? Yes, likely. But these were weaknesses better kept under wraps.

He smirks at such an unmerciful fate, but mostly to himself when he turns again to the main table, witnessing in real time as his only living parent bestows Aegon with a small surreptitious slap at something mouthy he’s just said towards her. In all these years, nothing ever changes.

Their grandsire holds Aegon in a death glare full of contempt by her side, utterly disapproving as well, which is something Aemond finds satiric. After all, wasn’t this what The Hand had always wanted for The Greens? Irreverent power and glory, Aegon upon the throne…such folly.

i can hardly breathe, and now you're right above me and your shadow suffocates.

The Keep had momentarily seemed a welcoming concept, but the present is too sobering a contradiction, impossible to ignore now. Sadly, the notion that he’d feel differently for this homecoming was once more proving false.

He can’t deflect responsibility, knowing his decision in actuality has been swayed by the growing weariness of violence - how tired he is of constantly being on the defense; forever at odds with his heart, his soul. It all feels heavy, a burdensome weight that will not hold much longer. What is my purpose? Although he will never admit this to anyone, he’s begun to lose sight of what he’s even fighting for anymore.

He needs something else to focus on for a while. A spark of interest would be nice, anything might do, as long as it could keep him from lashing out in anger - mostly at himself. Or worse, he could go spiraling downwards, back into the deep abyss of his emotions for a long-term residence. Just wither away into nothingness, and he has half a mind to let it happen. Fuck it all.

The actuality of all this flits across his mind, leaving the room suddenly muted to his ears. He shuts out the conversation he’s been involved in for an undisputed amount of time. Interestingly, the group surrounding him is littered with several lords and ladies that used to scoff and shirk at him a mere handful of solar cycles previously.

Hypocrites, cowards, utter cunts - the lot of them.

It doesn’t really matter to him though, these fools from a bitter and harrowing past, nor their opinions. Instead he inwardly returns to a more pressing matter up for his contemplation - the emptiness he’s been feeling for awhile, how internalized and damaging it still is.

He thinks of the way it all stacks up against him, how it’s reduced him to a man underwhelmed, unfulfilled… and the greatest issue of all, unloved. This is something Aemond is forever conscious of, and it’s like he’s suddenly experiencing the same oppressive state he’d lived in for so much of his youth, a time in which he was not in control whatsoever.

Once upon a time, he had been soft - a dreamer with a lot of heart to give. Unfortunately, by no fault of his own, his sensitive nature had proven detrimental, swiftly making him the target of many immature, albeit cruel intentions. Even despite being a Targaryen son, he’d constantly found himself the brunt of jests amongst his eldest brother and younger kin alike.

It had been a callous awakening, one that both fed his deep-seated feelings of inadequacy and expanded his burgeoning anger, turning him more spiteful with age.

What the fuck?

He wonders why these memories are suddenly seeking their re-emergence, particularly when it feels like he’s already spent a lifetime making painstaking efforts to finally move beyond such devastating haunts.

But it never really leaves him.

In defiance of persistence, self preservation and all he’s mastered, everything he’s proven of himself through accomplishment and challenge, some things still refuse to detach themselves from him. They are core memories that shall remain forever tied to the very matter of which he’s made, and because of this, he’s tried to make peace with their aggravation.

Even still, it’s a nuisance for him when he considers his own personal defects, how ingrained they seem, like a sustained poison in his blood. Inescapable fallacies that others have convinced him of, no matter his renowned skills as a swordsman, his impressive mount on the biggest dragon in the world, all his knowledge - the rarity of an education that is vast, uncommon… the notoriety of his crimes.

Am I not more than this?

He’s flawed - yes, as painfully aware of this truth as he is of his demons, so many well-acquainted old foes that have been around his entire life, lurking endlessly. They’re more repressed than before, but Aemond doesn’t think they’ll ever truly leave him, and he’s inclined to accept this damnation too.

But try as he might to tamper it, he feels primarily defined by his navigation and survival through neglect and bullying, at being physically maimed and sexually taken advantage of at a young age, none the wiser at the time. It’s all very tragic, even still, and yet he’s tired of being married to the victimization of it all.

He often wonders what’s so terribly wrong with him that every day, it feels like Westeros is trying to strangle him. As if she’s been trying to do this for his entire life - kill him slowly. And this plausibility doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility as he sardonically considers his existence, how shit it’s been, that the bitch might actually be succeeding in the endeavor.

It's an ever-present thorn in his side, and it feels deeper tonight, the stab somehow greater. He feels like disappearing or giving up, and the decision to give in only persists in the absence of an anchor - one he’s been in dire need of for some time.

If only there was a new strength from which he could draw, something powerful that he might feel inclined to cling to. His mind reels at what could possibly keep him grounded, give his life meaning, keep him sane enough to remain in this living hell.

But hope is a foreign concept, a dangerous entertainment that Aemond doesn’t make a practice of, and happiness is even more evasive. For him, there’s no miracle waiting in the wings for the perfect moment to unveil itself and show him kindness. There’s no fortress from which to seek refuge within, no bastion or brave defender to come to his aid, no salve to erase all the hurt in his torn heart. It’s a lost cause.

He knows that coming here tonight has been a grave mistake.

no dawn, no day, i’m always in this twilight.

He wants to move, but the will to do so momentarily abandons him, leaving him to remain trapped within himself. His singular vision loses focus as his stare shifts to the intricate flooring before him, a distracting pattern of which he really isn’t seeing. It’s not promising, but he’s somehow hoping the ground might miraculously deign mercy upon him by opening up and just swallowing him fucking whole.

He holds his breath, willing this occurrence, but of course it's all for naught. Then, as if from the end of a dark tunnel, he hears the familiarity of his name, spoken and echoing, drawing him back to the present. He begins to anticipate the confused stares from the group he’s been standing with, though no genuine conversing has taken place thus far.

When his mobility reinstates of its own accord, he shifts his weight to buy some time before looking up to consider the lord who’s asked him... something. He knows not what, nor does he care, but upon Aemond’s vision refocusing, he’s not seeing them or anyone - only her.

in this light, i swear you’re mine.

It's a mysterious occurrence, the way time works - how the stars seem to have finally conspired to align with opportunity and chance. And for the first time tonight, perhaps ever, he finds himself captivated.

The crowd has split, forming a clear path from where he’s standing to the opposite end of the room. He swears his traveling gaze has been moved by some greater force, something he cannot name, beckoning him. It must be true, he’s convinced as the connection he’s feeling with the nameless woman increases.

The air becomes charged with renewed energy, a unique heat that seems untainted by pretense. And it’s heat that flourishes within him now - inexplicable, drugging when he realizes all at once that she’s staring back at him. Only him.

There’s a curiosity to their exchange, the way it goes on in silence, in secret. It’s everything but fleeting, what they’re sharing from afar. And although it's from a great distance, he knows this could be something of substance, worth pursuing. Something unnamed within him spurs this idea, urging him into action to seize this unexpected opportunity, but then she looks away and he’s completely startled.

Suddenly, Aemond cannot breathe. She is fucking beautiful. From his remote observation, this is clear, but he’s also sensing something else about her. Aside from the obvious, that she’s literally the most stunning person in the room, that he has probably ever seen, her energy is not supporting this fact.

It perplexes him.

Amid the many exquisite objects within this opulent hall, she outshines them all, easily taking center stage. But what’s drawing Aemond the most, putting him on the highest of alerts, is the unease he senses emulating from her. She looks about ready to dart from the stale festivities, as if she’s simply gathering her nerve while mapping out her next move in order to see this realized.

Take me with you.

Actually, she looks exactly the way he feels, and intuitively he knows that she is someone he needs to have in his life. He’s still staring when she unexpectedly looks at him again, and with this second glance - a feeling of pure elation begins to take root within him. The air rushes to enter his lungs once more.

Suddenly he feels alive again, awakened from the dead at long last.

i looked at him with unexplainable recognition, i stared at him with a burning throat and teary eyes.

It’s time to panic.

Truth be told, she hadn’t meant to stare for as long as she had, and then again. It's definitely not something she’s prone to do - fixate on strangers, especially considering how uncomfortable it’s always made her when on the receiving end of such attentions.

But in her defense, dear cousin had recently disappeared, leaving her to her own devices without any formal introductions. Thus, voiding any and all potential attempts at social interactions on her own, should she have chosen to pursue them.

She had not, and it wasn’t a great loss for her either, as the night so far had proven rather stale - falling flat despite its nauseating frivolity. And yet, as a first-time visitor to the capital with limited knowledge of court customs, being put out like this felt like a blow, like abandonment.

It did not bode well with her to feel less than, misplaced, unwelcome. And these were all issues she’d been struggling with since arriving, trying desperately to maintain a sense of calm confidence that she did not actually feel an iota of.

In honesty, she could have anticipated this if only she’d removed the figurative rose colored lenses from which she’d been trying to experience tonight through.

It wasn’t fated to be ideal though, as she had immediately sensed something malignant from the moment she’d walked through the entry door earlier. Bittersweet, but unsurprisingly, it left her longing for the solitude of home with its rolling lands, the beauty evergreen.

She maintains vexation over recent decisions, once more finding herself in a situation that’s left her ill at ease - hellbent on forfeiting any and all of the night’s eventualities. If I could just get out of here. Yet, something holds her back.

Perhaps it’s the perceived lack of decorum in disappearing that stays her. Hardly - but the watchful eyes throughout the room do give her pause. Aware of the scornful judgement being passed about, in constant motion from one fiend to the next, she can’t say she’s trying to draw more attention.

She’s not senseless either, having been told numerous times of the weight this invite held - one of generosity and privilege and opportunity. In theory, it had seemed plausible, so she hadn’t dismissed the importance of impression that kept being pressed upon her every day leading up to now.

And now, there’s contradiction at every turn - the night proving to be little more than a pitiful show of extravagance. A colossal inconvenience to celebrate and placate an unworthy man-child.

As if I really give a shit about this Aegon twat.

He apparently IS the king, but she really fails to comprehend this as fact. From her personal observation, he appears more juvenile than ruler, all tired eyes and messy hair. He’s wearing a permanent scowl of disinterest too, as he begins making his rounds amongst his guests. It’s plain to see he’s intoxicated, struggling at times to stay upright on his two feet.

Even the heavy crown atop his head fails to stay centered, impossible to maintain its position with the continuous sway of its wearer. Such a mess.

Though she finds herself wondering why she left home for this, she can’t deny the inherent need within her to be pushed - really move out of established comforts for the sake of growth. Admittedly, life had become dull enough for her to consider travel, even despite perceived dark times in the more well-known parts of the world.

The risk had been taken, and tonight was accomplishing her misguided notion to experience something new, something she’d never had before. It was definitely not a place of comfort either, but neither was it engaging as she had hoped it might be.

Perhaps a little intrigue would do some good in this social wasteland, but there is nothing, nobody.

While she wasn’t a stranger to taking inherent leaps of faith, having a rather optimistic outlook most days, nothing was presently inspiring the spark within her. Likewise, nothing was pulling her to put some faith into this night, relinquish any benefits of doubt. There was nothing compelling, nobody convincing her that this particular setting was anything other than cold and callous.

More than that though, it felt undeniably toxic, laced with the unmistaken undercurrent of condescension. And for the first time in her life she yearns to be invisible.

These are not my people and I don’t belong here.

The realization of this hits hard, at a very inopportune moment, and it's causing her cool facade to deplete significantly. It feels like she’s breaking down, on the brink of a total collapse. She could crumble and it would be so easy, but still, she hangs on.

She sips her wine and it’s disgusting, aware that any further indulgence in it won’t be worth tomorrow’s ache in the head. However, the heavy cup remains a functional prop to keep her semi-occupied with intended movement. She thinks at the very least, it's helping her blend in more with the rest of this cunty crowd, appearing like less of an outsider, less...delicate.

The thought of taking another walk around the hall seems a viable option - an attempt to kill more of this rotten evening. She finds more appeal in the notion, rather than standing still and pretending she’s agreeable with her surroundings.

Everything continues to fall away, and it’s getting harder to crawl out of her melancholic mood. Though, on a very specific level of self-awareness, she knows she’s being too critical of the situation and too hard on herself. It’s a deep flaw for her, to be constantly plagued by one’s own high expectations, equipped with the unfortunate knack of also being dramatic.

It’s a curse in many ways - limiting, exhausting, upsetting. She hates that she feels so much, so deeply. She hates the way she always ends up let down in the end. She hates the way she wants more from life, yet always comes up short.

What did you actually expect… to fall in love with a prince?

The thought is enough to get her angsty, exasperated that she could still have the capacity to be this naive, to think that such wonders might exist. Fairytales, her personal kingdom of dreams recognized, come to life. She could romanticize the idea for the rest of her days, but they’re simply that, dreams. And only dreams they will remain. Intangible.

When she considers this, and she’s done so often throughout her life, it always leaves her reeling with the harshest of realities in the end. She wonders why she puts herself through it, time and again - dreaming up a life and a love that will never belong to her.

The outcome will never change, you’re destined to be alone.

She’s too much in her head at this point and it weights her, but she’s done pretending, over the tolerance. She realizes she has to get out of here, that it doesn’t even matter where to. Just away. And suddenly there’s no more argument left within her of what she should do by staying. There’s no room left for lingering guilt either.

It’s simply time to go.

Scanning the space, she finds her exit route in record time. But beyond these four walls, she has no idea where she’s going. It doesn’t matter, I don’t care.

Although it momentarily deters her from taking action, she decides to chance one more look across the room in an attempt to locate her kin. At the very least, it would be wise to give notice of her leave for the evening, but the effort is fruitless and she’s quick to abandon the search.

That's when her eyes land on him.

are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?

Who is he?

She has no idea, though she could draw some conclusions and seven hells, he is stunning! There’s an enigma about him, a danger and acuteness to his character that exudes a well-steeped confidence. She can tell all this just by the way he holds himself, at least that’s the impression she’s receiving by his body language, the semi-defensive stance.

He intrigues her, radiant yet darkly masculine as well, and he physically stands out with his impressive height and athletic build - everything she’s attracted to. He looks important, but displaced. It’s also clear he’s disinterested with those around him, perhaps jaded by the same shortcomings in his life as she is with hers. She wonders, thinking it could be true.

The energy from him draws her the same way his appearance does, all black leather and belts, a dagger, a donned eye-patch, gorgeous long hair that is pale, glorious. Even in the dim light, it shines as if illuminated - a most mysterious beacon, working to draw out her withering heart with a renewed vibrant curiosity.

Fuck, that is lovely. She thought she was leaving, but now her feet feel heavy and she can’t look away.

A Targaryen, obviously. But who the fuck is he, which dragonlord is this? She MUST know.

He’s striking, it's undeniable, even despite looking forlorn in this current setting. Or maybe it’s just a blasé air that he keeps. It could be a front. Again, she wonders. Either way, she picks this up right away, deliberating how it isn’t obvious to the imbeciles he’s standing amongst, of how very little he cares.

Its a strange concept, like tragic art, as she spectates the scene. It's like he’s invisible, such as she, or he wants to be, such as she. He’s completely withdrawn from the conversation… and he is beautiful.

Unbeknownst to him, he’s also outwardly manifesting everything she’s been internalizing - its just something she feels, senses. The silent energy emanating from him becomes a fucking madness, moving unseen across the space, weaving through faceless bodies. And suddenly it’s crashing into her with subtle violence, summoning her in a manner that’s arcane, unintentional.

It transmits nonetheless, in a demand to feel something, anything.

She thinks she might, knowing he would be the reason, and she casts a silent wish then: look at me, escape with me. She expects nothing. And yet, it seems he has somehow received her unspoken plea with perfect aim, because almost immediately he looks up, finding her without pause, effortlessly.

It takes her breath, taken aback by the depth of his stare, even from afar. But it’s not merely the meeting of their eyes that's causing her panic to grow now.

It's the way the most beautiful man she’s ever seen maintains his stare, subtly tilting his head in acknowledgement of her existence. It’s the way he’s just excused himself from the small group he’s been standing with as she watches him finally break loose from them.

It’s the way he's walking directly towards her now with unmistaken interest.

the sadness you carry, it hangs like a ghost.

Aemond’s need to go to her is instantaneous, his mind quickly made up, surrendering to her unspoken beckoning. What he’s feeling can’t be described, but it puts him in motion with assured steps towards her, intent to maintain their connection.

The last thing he wants now is a deterrent, some dumb bastard interrupting his advancement with meaningless words and insincere praise. He can’t be fucked, especially since the exuberance of others often exhausts and bores him.

Besides, he’s not that infamous and he thinks his appearance should emit a genuine aloofness, at least enough to mark him as unapproachable.

In this moment, he hopes for it to be true.

As he continues, his boots on the stone floor leave an echoing sound - the faintest of cadences to his ears. Even the soft music that’s been playing, sounds he’d previously drowned out, return to fill his senses. He’s aware of how the room comes alive once more and how his attention hones into the finer details - the beautiful things that matter enough to hold some of his appreciation. But nothing is shining as bright, as gorgeous as her.

i’ll just tear it down, and i’ll wear it like a ribbon - give it.

His perspective is altered, biased. He’s ever grateful for the reprieve in detaching from the aimless buzz of verbal interaction. He carries on as the swooning strings from instruments and all the paintings and flickering candles in the room act as a backdrop for the dream he’s finally found himself in.

There’s a grandeur to the moment, and it doesn’t even seem like he’s in the same place as before. It's a subtle shift with great impact and to Aemond, it’s like a slow awakening of his spirit. His heart feels lighter, his chest less constricted somehow. Breathing comes more easily as he realizes he’s no longer holding everything in.

For him, tonight finally makes sense - he sees with so much clarity and with it, an aspiration to unearth something extraordinary. I am here because she is here. And she’s his focus, it can’t be misinterpreted.

This is intense, he knows it is, because he can be intense - in looks, in demeanor, in speech. For example, the effect of his set jaw and determined eye are apparent just based on the way she looks away again, like she needs a moment for herself. Like maybe she’s alarmed by him and his imminent approach…

Regardless, he can tell she’s ready to go simply by her nervous shifting of weight from one foot to the next and the way her hand grips her wine cup. It’s so obvious, but he silently demands for her to stay put, at least until he can reach her, join her.

Don’t you dare move!

As he draws closer, he realizes he hasn’t actually formulated an introduction, though. He’s been fixated on priority one - getting to her, but now that he’s almost within her sphere, it's possible he’s going to come on too strong.

It really isn’t in his nature to be aggressive, at least not towards women. But there's a fine line between that and being resolute, and he can only hope she won’t confuse the two. It gets him stressed either way, just the anticipation. And its abrupt, how the air circulating now feels to have stopped altogether.

The urge for something clean in his lungs grows more intense. In fact, it's been too many lapsed hours since he last stepped outside, so he thinks maybe this is the angle he will use with her.  

He sees her look down at the drink in her hand, then back at him with a ghost of a smile, and then away again. All these nervous habits miraculously enchanting him, though he’s aware it’s all stemmed from a discomfort and he could sympathize. He does - this brave girl.

Aemond needs to get to her, knowing this setting has become too intolerable for them both. It leads him to mull through all the potential areas he could take her to - more private areas within the Keep. He’s trying hard not to envision her on his bed though, laid out before him, but it’s a challenge not to go there…

His thoughts come up short, interrupted and replaced by disbelief in an instant. And he can see the shock on her face too, witnessing the scene in horror the moment Aegon, of all people, drunkenly clashes into her with unabashed force.

It happens quickly, the unexpected contact of his body propelling the cup she’s been holding towards herself, effectively spilling its dark contents onto her bodice and sleeve. His fiend of a brother remains unsteady, loud and obnoxious as he begins to inappropriately grope her figure with slurred and insincere apologies.

But it gets worse when he sobers just enough to focus his vision, and fully consider the beauty of the woman he’s currently offending - the one that he still holds fast within his clutches. He voices his immediate thoughts, loud enough to be heard by many.

“Heavens, what a pretty present you are! I think I shall wait to unwrap you in my chambers.”

Aemond sees fire, he walks faster.

i can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; i am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger.

The familiar sting of tears begin to surface in a rush, threatening to fall although she wills them not to. It would be so easy to cry now, and it’s something she tends to do when she’s at her limit. The frustration becomes unbearable, but she simply cannot allow this weakness to display.

Aside from the fact that everyone appears to be looking at her, the music has also stopped and the only sound filling her ears now is the seething laughter from the king. His prodding fingers are still at her waist, her lower back and his breath is hot on her ear, repulsing her just as much as his verbal filth has.

This little blond bitch, I could kill him.

She wants to scream, fueled by so much repressed anger, thinking she might act out soon if she doesn’t escape the predicament. Above all things, slapping the fool touching her is of the highest priority, but she also wants to cut out the eyes of every person currently gawking at her as if she were the problem.

She wants to combust into flames, she wants to cease to exist altogether.

Even her free hand has formed into a fist so tight that her knuckles ache, and although it's of little consequence to her, she can vaguely feel the shallow cuts her nails have begun to make into the delicate skin of her palm. Time halts and she’s burning from within, her vision clouding with rage as her arm begins to raise as if by its own accord.

She intends to lay one into Aegon’s jaw. At the very least, he deserves a slap, although the consequences will be dire. Even with this knowledge, she can’t seem to tamper the physical urge to do some harm to him. It’s the least he deserves.

How dare this fucker be so blatantly disrespectful.

Her mind is made up, he’s getting slapped and she’s determined to see this through. But suddenly her movement is blocked, stilled by a gentle pressure of long fingers wrapping securely around her forearm. A deep breath is drawn and she’s still trembling in her animosity, her embarrassment, when she turns to consider the disrupter.

To her relief and amazement, she’s met with a welcomed face, a beautiful one. It’s him, the only one she wants to see, to know.

The good Targaryen - finally, he is here.

And he is so close to her when he leans in, offering a verbal warning with a solemn tone for only her to hear.

“Don’t.”  

His touch is reassuring, sending bursts of warmth throughout her at the tenderness being exhibited. His expression however, betrays a significant degree of anger and it hardens his features further, in an impossible way. Oh gods!

She’s seeing a lot of sharp lines and hard angles, an immaculate bone structure and the most impressive scar that runs a great length down one side of his face. It hadn’t been noticeable from a distance, not really, but now it draws her. Truthfully, it’s devastating how devilishly handsome he is and how weak she’s begun to feel just being near him.

He almost doesn’t seem real, but the obvious irritation emulating from him is substantial. Even still, there's a compassion in his touch and it’s his touch alone that she feels upon her body now. It compels her to be soft again and then she is, loosening and moved by his thoughtfulness to come to her aid, offer her stability in both body and mind.

His actions ground her, and he’s respectful as he takes the emptied cup from her with his free hand, discreetly handing it to a passing servant without a word.

She’s aware of how she turns into him then, drawn to his body heat, the most natural attraction. And with Aegon now gone, a relief in itself, she feels safe - protected. The urge to throw her arms around him in gratitude is strong, but she abstains.

He continues looking at her, his face otherworldly, and he’s saying something that she cannot comprehend as her world goes quiet. She can’t capture a thought or formulate a word, feeling her mind draw a blank, abandon her while he looks on.

Her mouth turns dry and her clothes become too warm as she gets lost in the intensity of his eye, the riveting color of it. From afar she couldn’t decipher, but up close she can clearly see that it’s a glorious azure blue, rimmed by a darker hue - indicating something of further mystery, an enigma. It isn’t typical, and therefore stunning, moving her in an inexplicable way.

A soft moan escapes her lips, ever so telling of the effect he’s having, as his brow lifts with some amusement. He’s clearly heard the sound, providing some inclination to him of her desire and he can’t help but pull a small half-smirk, satisfied by this revelation. But he’s still waiting for a response, impatient once more, and he demonstrates this by reinstating his firm grip on her arm to give a slight squeeze.

She wonders if he’s always like this, communicative with gestures and touches of varying pressures. It takes her mind somewhere it shouldn’t - to a place that involves just them, their bodies and very little clothing.

Does she want to know? She isn’t certain, but he seems physically overbearing suddenly, as if he’d moved further into her unnoticed. And he might have accomplished this while she lost herself to a budding desire, envisioning what he might look like fully unclothed…what he might feel like against her, from within her.

Fuck!

His close proximity isn’t helping reel in her thoughts, as the sensual scent encapsulating him climbs to meet her senses. It's fresh, something divine, and she finds herself wanting to chase and consume. It brings a new type of fire to their shared space as she imagines her lips pressed to the exposed skin on his neck, breathing him in.

The visual finally releases her from her mind trap, and she refocuses to stare at his face, placing her hand blindly on his own without thought. She shakes her head apologetically, helplessly, needing him to repeat the question - it’s really all she can do.

He obliges her, knowing she can hear him, that she’s listening now.

“Come away with me.”

come home to my heart.

It really isn’t a question and she finds herself silently nodding in acquiesce to his demand, feeling the adrenaline begin to flourish. The only audible response from him is a deep “hmm” as they take their leave. It intrigues her, but not nearly as much as the way he walks in equal measures of grace and arrogance or how his silken hair begins to move illustrious over his back with each step taken.

To her, he is an exquisite creation, surely made from the gods and he walks as one amongst ineffectual men as he leads them through the mass of people. It’s a quickened pace that she matches, noticing the way he calls off a small group of approaching knights, the Kingsguard, with a flick of his wrist to still their advances.

Although they’re amid many watchful eyes, the music has begun again, reinstating many dancers back to the middle of the floor following the scene with the king. It offers some relief, but what she’s finding to be the greatest comfort is the contact he maintains on her elbow, at the small of her back while he guides her out of the hall.

The heat infiltrates from his hands, runs along her spine and she doesn’t mind the mild possession of his touch. It thrills, and her spirits continue lifting as something akin to hope seeks to re-enter her heart.

i promise you, i was here. i felt things that made death so large it was indistinguishable from air, and i went on destroying inside it like wind in a storm.

It’s a well kept secret that Aemond considers himself a lover, not a fighter (at least in theory), though he doubts anyone would believe this if he were ever to admit it aloud. In fact, he feels that he’s improved in reining in his more violent impulses when they arise, attempting to adopt a more critical stance on whether to act on said impulses or not.

He reflects on this now as he navigates through the Red Keep with familiarity, thinking perhaps this banal approach is prominently wrought from Lucerys’ death. He knows it is… but this is different.

Despite the beautiful woman with him, casting a curious glance his way, he’s silently fuming with a sudden need for vengeance. And the center just won’t hold, he can’t call this off now that he’s in action - moving, intentional.

As such, his steps are calculated, the direction mapped as they ascend a set of stairs together in record time. She follows willingly, half-dragged by his hand at a certain point, though she doesn’t complain. He’s grateful for it, and without a word, they turn down a dark corridor that takes them further through the never-ending maze of apartments and bedchambers.

His heart is pounding, the most violent of slams from within his rib cage, as his long legs carry him closer to his oldest nemesis.

you go on by finding a channel for your love…

Aegon’s behavior is always unacceptable, but tonight it’s inexcusable as well.

Tonight, it feels more personal.

In fairness, Aemond’s tolerance had already waned substantially throughout the course of the day. Though not uncommon, his brother had been acting an absolute wretch from the moment he’d risen and begun interacting - effectively wearing most everyone thin.

Still, recent events simply won’t release from his brain. His brother’s actions, specifically the ever-occurring heinous mistreatment of women, continues to spread like a plague. It’s bothersome, but whats worse is the fact that such behavior remains unchecked, tolerated, as everyone turns a blind eye time and again.

Aegon, the perpetrator that knows nothing of consequence, who could care less who he offends and hurts. Aegon, who never learns.

The loathing for his sibling is prominent more now than ever, the rage significant in power as it burns at the very core of Aemond. It threatens to spread like wildfire as he recalls the image of Aegon colliding into her, touching her, taunting her - the one whose hand he’s now holding. This exquisite darling that’s with me.

It leaves him seeing red once more, and he’s resolute to make right this gross wrongdoing, finding the catharsis absolute when at last, he does.

…and another for your rage.

There’s justification in the way Aemond storms Aegon’s bedchambers, startling the room’s occupants as he dismisses a handful of ladies already in various stages of undress.

There’s satisfaction when he knocks the wine from his brother’s hand, spilling it across the regal bedding before advancing to lay waste to every last spirit within sight, all crashing bottles and broken glass.

There's an absolution when his fist meets Aegon’s mocking face, disrupting his cavalier smile with brute force. The delivered blow drops his brother to the littered floor as so many shards seek to break the skin of his hands, his knees.

It’s an absolute agony for the king, but he continues in a deranged manner with uncontrolled manic laughter filling the luxurious space. In High Valyrian, Aemond speaks departing words of revulsion and fury and threats.

Then he’s back outside the room, the splintered door now unable to properly close as guards rush to Aegon’s aid with trepidation and no small degree of bewilderment at what’s just transpired between the siblings.

He grabs his awaiting companion’s hand then, his own showing the faint beginnings of a bruise as it takes form, darkening just beneath the surface. It’s inconsequential for Aemond, for he’s more surprised that she’s remained to wait for him despite whats just been witnessed firsthand.

He sincerely wonders how he hasn’t managed to scare her away with such a wrathful display. Yet, he’s finding a great relief in knowing he hasn’t managed to achieve this after all. In fact, he’s in a bit of awe that she’s remained. It means more to him than he could have imagined, and certainly more than she will ever know…

At present, his knuckles sting, but he doesn’t care. His heart is thunderous, but he doesn’t care.

An incredible amount of relief is washing over him at what’s just transpired through words and actions, honest emotion pent up for so long, finally released. It’s palpable, this foreign elation being felt as they retreat, backtracking so many of their steps. Even servants rush to either side of the halls so as not to remain in their wake, potentially interrupting their progress.

And he’s so certain of his menacing appearance now, just by their reactions, though he half-wishes his brother had put up a fight and tried to roughen him up. But it matters naught. At this point, his immediate intention is strictly to get himself and her to a place of privacy - as far as possible from Aegon’s blasted existence too.

Aemond huffs in spite of himself on reflection, feeling a bit bitchy over the circumstances, for this wasn’t the first impression he had wanted to make.

Too late now.

[straylightdream]

by now: l.mh, h.js (m)

feat: lee minho (lee know) x f.reader, han jisung x f.reader

nonidol verse 

word count: 17.6k

↳ They shared a romantic night together many years ago, and now they’re both left wondering if there could be something between them.

warnings: angst, slow burn, cussing, explicit sexual content

an: this was originally posted on my old tumblr spidey-babe-parker that’s not active. I decided to rework and post here as a SKZ story.

The music played as your arms were wrapped around his neck and his strong hands were on your soft hips. You swayed together to the slow beat of the song. Your eyes were locked on his chest because you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him but you could feel his warm eyes burning a hole in you. You two probably wouldn’t even be sharing this dance together if you weren’t the maid of honor and he wasn’t the best man. Somehow Changbin had tricked you two into believing you had to dance together.

“You look beautiful by way,” his voice was kind and sincere, but then again he was always kind and sincere.

His sweet words were what led to your clothes falling off all those years ago. Lee Minho was the man of your dreams, he was charming, good looking, and funny. The perfect panty dropping combination. The fact that he looked like he looked amazing when he was naked was just the cherry on top. You two had shared a steamy night together years ago, and that’s all it was. Minho was dealing with a rough break up and you, well you just wanted him. His sweet words after a night of hanging out with the group led to whispers of need and want, and a handsy cab ride to his apartment.

After your night you shared together you agreed to act like it never happened and to never tell a soul, but somehow Seo Changbin found out and had made it his goal to make you spend time together. You were still attempting to figure out if he just got married to force you to dance with Minho.

“How are you so charming?” You asked.

He shrugged his shoulders giving you a crooked smile. Rolling your eyes you went back to looking down at his chest wondering how much longer was going to be left in this song. “I’m sorry if you hate me.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, “I could never hate you, things are just really weird between us. It’s really weird knowing that you have seen me naked and been inside of me.”

He smirked again and let out a soft chuckle, “well I don’t think it’s weird you’ve seen me naked.”

“Of course it’s not weird for you, you look amazing naked.”

“Well you’re beautiful too, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t picture you naked often.”

Suddenly the oxygen felt like it had been sucked out of the room as you stared at him. Opening your mouth to speak nothing came out and you just stared at him with your mouth open. His bottom lip was captured between his teeth as he stared at you. There was a sudden shift between the two of you and the tension grew thick.

The music stopped playing for a moment before another slow song started to play but you didn't part ways, you just stared at each other for a long moment. Someone placed their hand on your shoulder and it brought you out of your thoughts, you looked to see Chan standing next to you. Relief washed over you at the thought of someone rescuing you from the most confusing moment of your life.

“Can I steal a dance?”

You dropped your arms from around Minho’s neck and quickly reached down and took Chan’s hand. Tugging on his hand you pulled him away from Minho who was smiling at you as he watched you walk away. Stopping on the other side of the dance floor Chan placed his hand on your hips and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You looked like you needed saving,” he smiled.

Chan had been friends with you for a while. You weren’t sure if he knew what had happened between you and Minho, because he never mentioned it. Then again Chan was always a gentleman when it came to you and he wouldn’t ever say anything to you that would make you uncomfortable.

“Yeah it was pretty awkward,” you let out a nervous laugh.

“I have always thought you and Minho would make a great couple, but honestly you’re so awkward around each other,” let out a soft chuckle.

You wanted to tell him so badly why you were so awkward together, but it just seemed so odd to tell anyone what had happened. After the song finished you parted away from Chan and headed across the ballroom towards the bar. You ordered yourself a cranberry and vodka and made your way to the patio outside that was covered in twinkle lights. You sat at a table that was near a pond sipping on your drink. You were trying to enjoy a few minutes alone before your alone time was interrupted by Minho walking outside with a pretty bridesmaid. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes that he was being cliché enough to attempt to hook up with a bridesmaid. Looking over at them as they walked hand in hand to a table far away from you, you couldn’t help the slight feeling of jealousy as you watched him flirt with her.

He must have felt your jealous eyes on him because he caught you staring and smirked. You realized then that somehow you and Lee Minho were in some game of cat and mouse, and you hated the fact that you suddenly wanted him again.

-

For some reason instead of going straight on to their honeymoon like a normal couple Changbin and Miyeon thought it would be a great idea if they had breakfast with all the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Most of the group was pretty hungover, the bride included. You sat in between Seungmin and Chan really wishing that this wedding weekend would be over all ready. Unfortunately Minho was sitting across from you smiling at you. Every time you would accidentally make eye contact your cheeks would burn and you would quickly look away. One of the times you glanced over at him you noticed him sporting a decent size hickey on the side of neck letting you know that he did indeed spend the night with one of the girls who was at this table with you. Looking down to the blonde sitting two seats away from you found the culprit who marked Minho’s neck. Her eyes were locked on Minho as if she was a hunter looking at her prey. Minho on the other hand hadn’t looked at her once, his focus only seemed to lock on you.

Standing up you leaned over to Miyeon and told her you needed to use the ladies room. Walking down the hallway towards the bathroom you desperately needed to escape Minho’s intense gaze. As you reached for the bathroom door the feeling of someone grabbing your wrist pulled you from your thoughts. Startled, you looked over to see Minho holding your wrist.

“Can you for the love of god give me five minutes to myself?” You pulled your wrist from his grip.

He stood there with the same intense gaze watching you, “so you are trying to get away from me.”

Letting out a heavy sigh you reached for the bathroom door, “I’m not exactly a fan of having someone stare at me the whole way through a breakfast.”

Walking into the bathroom you shut the door and hurried off to the sink that was sitting under a large gold mirror in an attempt to escape Lee Minho. You didn’t even need to use the restroom, you just needed a moment to yourself to pull yourself together. You stared at yourself in the mirror and kept telling yourself to stop letting him get to you.

After a few minutes you walked over to the door and hesitantly opened the door fully expecting to find Minho standing on the other side waiting for you . To your surprise you found an empty hallway. Walking back to the table you found Minho in a deep conversation with Changbin talking about something. Sitting back down you felt a hand rest on your thigh and you looked over to find Chan looking at you with a soft smile.

“You okay?” He asked low enough so nobody at the table other than you would hear it.

Nodding you gave him a half smile.

As the breakfast came to an end Changbin and Miyeon said their goodbyes to the group and headed back up to their suite they were staying in while the rest of the bridal party and groomsmen walked back to the lobby. You went back up to your room you shared with Felix to get your stuff to drive home. You had work in the morning and needed to drive back into the city.

You drove back home with Felix and talked about random things. You avoided talking about Minho at all costs. You hadn’t ever told Felix about your night you had shared with Minho all those years ago and you didn’t want him to find out now. As you arrived back at your apartment you went about your day normally.

When the morning came around you walked into work to find Han Jisung sitting by your desk holding a cup of coffee. You couldn’t help but smile as you sat down at your desk and he handed you the cup of coffee. “You are literally the best. How on earth did you know that I was going to be extremely cranky if I didn’t get a cup of coffee this morning?” You joked as you brought the warm cup up to your lips.

“Maybe because you’re always cranky if you don’t get coffee,” he leaned back in the chair and smiled. “How did the wedding go?” He asked.

Shrugging your shoulder you took another sip of coffee, “well the weight of being the maid of honor is finally off my shoulders. So maybe I can properly sleep again,” you joked. You Miyeon had been best friends since college and after graduating you moved in with each other. So from the moment Changbin proposed to her you were informed you were the maid of honor. Being the maid of honor probably wouldn’t have been as stressful if you didn’t live with the bride.

“Oh yeah you’re going to be living alone now.”

You and Jisung had been working together for the last two years and in that time you had grown quite close. According to him, you were the only thing that kept him sane at work when his boss Mr. Park gets really pissy when deadlines are near.

“I can’t lie, I loved the silence last night when I was just hanging out on the couch reading alone .”

“Well maybe you should throw a party to celebrate living alone,” he said as he brought his own cup of coffee up to his lips.

“I haven’t thrown a house party since my first year out of college,” you said thinking about all those nights where you and Miyeon would pack the apartment filled with too many drunk people.

“Maybe you shouldn’t throw a rager or anything like that, but maybe you could have a classy get together.”

Shrugging your shoulders you couldn’t lie, that was a great idea, “would you actually show up to this party?”

Jisung was never a person to actually go to go to parties. You had invited him out a few times but he was never actually able to come. “If you ask me really nicely I’ll come,” he winked, causing you to smile.

“How about when Miyeon and Changbin come back I’ll throw a get together, but you have to promise you’ll actually come?”

“Sure,” he said standing up. “I guess I should actually start working before Mr. Park sees me slacking off.”

Your day at work went by pretty quickly. When you got back to your apartment you looked in your fridge wondering what you should make for dinner. You realized you still had to go to the store to get groceries and you were far too tired to do that. You sent Chan and Felix text, asking if they wanted to come over and eat some take out. Chan responded letting you know that he was with Minho but they would both be down to come over for take out and Felix responded he was on his way. You didn’t have the heart to tell Chan he couldn’t bring Minho.

Twenty minutes later you sat in your living room with Felix, Chan and Minho all drinking wine and browsing through Netflix attempting to find something to watch.

When the doorbell rang letting you know that your take out had arrived Minho jumped up to help you get the food. He followed you off to the small kitchen to put the food down. As you sorted the food out you could feel his warm eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. You turned to look at him planning on telling him to knock it off, but for some reason you couldn’t.

“You look really pretty by the way,” he sweet words caught you off guard like they always did.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

Silently you both carried the food back to the living room where Felix and Chan were still searching for something to watch. Sitting on the loveseat under the window Minho sat down next to you and you glanced over at him and gave him a smile. You hated that him just smiling gave you butterflies and was leaving you even more confused.

-

Lazy Saturdays were your favorite day. It was the day that you were able to run all the errands you needed to run and you were also able to sleep in. You never turned down a chance to sleep in. You worked a nine to five job which meant that every day you were up and starting your day at six-thirty in the morning. Saturday mornings normally consisted of you sitting at the kitchen table and drinking a large cup of coffee and reading a book. Your eyes were locked on the book that was on the table below you. With one hand holding your cup of coffee you turned the page.

As you finished your last drink of coffee you took that as your cue that you needed to get ready for the day, even though you really wanted another cup of coffee. You needed to go to the store and get some groceries. If you put it off any longer you weren’t actually going to have anything to eat. You couldn’t order take out again, you needed to cook something. You cleaned your coffee cup and placed it on the counter to dry, and then headed off to your room to get ready for the day. Looking through your dresser you looked for something to wear. You settled on an olive sweater and a pair of black skinny jeans. You walked into the bathroom so you could take a shower. Sliding the door open you turned on the water giving it a moment to warm up you turned on the speaker you kept in the bathroom and turned on your playlist that you always played while getting ready. Stripping away your pajamas you walked over to the shower and stepped into the warm water. The warm water engulfed your body as the sounds of an upbeat song by the 1975 played. You couldn’t help but sing along and dance a little as you rubbed your pear scented body wash across your soft skin. You belted out the song bopping your head as you stepped back under the water. After another two songs of you singing and dancing around you washed your hair and got out to the shower. With a towel wrapped around your body you dried off your face and added some oil to your hair.

After drying off and getting dressed you put some light makeup on, and went back into your room to pick out a pair of shoes to wear. You settled on a pair of black ankle boots that were your go to boots. Grabbing your purse that was in the leaving room on the table that sat by the door you headed out of your apartment.

The early spring air was crisp. You’re happy you decided on wearing a sweater. Walking the two blocks down the city street you ended up at the grocery store you always shopped in. You grabbed a cart and looked down at your phone at the list you had made so you didn’t forget anything. Walking down the produce aisle you grabbed a mixture of veggies and fruits you needed. Heading off towards the aisle that had the salad dressing you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sight of Lee Minho reaching up on the top shelf grabbing olive oil. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the inch of skin that showed as he reached. Before you could escape the aisle Minho noticed you and smiled.

“Hey,” he said, smirking.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly.

“You can’t escape me, can you?” He pushed his cart closer to you. You knew he was totally loving the fact you kept seeing each other.

Shaking your head you reached over and grabbed the dressing that you wanted.

“I hate how weird things are between us,” he stopped right next to you.

You looked over at him and bit your lip as you processed what he said. You couldn’t lie, you hated how awkward it was too. You constantly wondered if having sex with him was a mistake. That night you shared was pretty hot and the best sex of your life. Something more might have happened between the two of you if you hadn’t told Minho to act like nothing had ever happened between you. You were actually the reason nothing had ever happened.

“We’re super awkward around each other,” you said, finally speaking up.

He nodded his head, “yeah it’s kind of the worst.”

“I don’t know what you want from me Minho,” you didn’t want to sound like a bitch or anything, but you didn’t know what he was trying to achieve.

Shrugging his shoulders, “I would like to be your friend again.” You started to move forward pushing your cart. Before you could get to the end of the aisle Minho hurried up and caught up to you. “Things between us don’t have to be weird. We can hang out and talk and act like we haven’t seen each other naked,” he reached out and placed his hand on your cart stopping you from going any further.

“I would really prefer if you kept it down and didn’t let the whole supermarket know we had sex,” you glared at him.

“Sorry,” his tone was softer as he still held on to the cart.

“I need to buy bread and wine if you want to follow me.”

You knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone so you assumed you might as well invite him to follow you. He removed his hand and followed you to the other side of the store where the wine was. Standing in the aisle that had a bunch of wine. Minho watched you carefully as if he was studying you. You could feel his warm eyes burning a hole in you. Looking back at him you knit your eyebrows together. He gave you a lopsided smile.

“We used to be close,” he spoke.

You rubbed your temple thinking back to how things used to be, “I know.”

“I’m sorry if you regret that night.”

You stopped rubbing your temple and noticed the sad expression on his face, “I don’t regret it. I regret that we let things get so weird between us.”

“We can change that,” he walked away from his cart and walked over to stand next to you. Reaching up he grabbed a bottle of white wine and held onto it. A smile formed on your face when you noticed that he held out your favorite bottle of moscato. “I’ll buy you this as a peace offering. I want to work on being friends again, like no funny business or anything. I just miss having you as a friend. Also I’m pretty sure people assume something between us happened because we’re super awkward to be around.”

It wasn’t like you couldn't afford the wine or anything like that, but for some reason you couldn’t turn down his peace offering. “You have to stop picturing me naked,” you stuck out your hand for him to shake.

A big smile formed on his face as he reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle of wine and he shook your hand, ��I’ll try.”

Minho put the bottle of moscato in his cart and you both continued to shop together. After shopping Minho walked with you back towards your apartment. He lived three blocks past you with Chan. Standing outside your apartment Minho said goodbye and you walked upstairs. You couldn’t help but feel like things were changing for the better between the two of you. As you were putting away your grocery’s your phone dinged letting you know you received a text message. Looking down you saw that it was from Minho.

Minho: Thank you for accepting my peace offering.

Looking over at the bottle of wine you had sat on the counter you just shook your head at the fact that you had actually accepted a bottle of wine as a peace offering.

(Y/N): I want things to be like they used to be.

You were hoping that this meant you were going to have your friend back, and hopefully there wouldn’t be this weird odd sexual tension between you.

-

Changbin and Miyeon had finally returned home from their honeymoon, and the moment they were back home Miyeon texted you saying she needed a night with her best friends.

Sitting on the floor in your apartment you had a large glass of wine in your hand while Felix was sitting on the couch sprawled out and Miyeon sat on the floor next to you. You all had been drinking quite a bit while you shared a pizza that Felix had ordered. You were hearing all the dirty details about Miyeon’s honeymoon and Felix’s date he had had two nights ago with some girl named Siyeon. You were all getting pretty tipsy when Miyeon was talking about some crazy sex position she almost broke her wrist trying. You and Felix were busting up laughing as Miyeon was trying to tell the embarrassing story. 

“You cant tell me you don’t have any embarrassing sex stories,” Miyeon glared.

“I mean I’ve fallen off a bed before,” Felix chimed.

“I haven’t had sex in forever, so I don’t think I’m experienced enough to chime in,” you laughed.

“When was the last time you had sex?” Miyeon asked, sitting her empty glass of wine on the coffee table.

You stood up and walked off towards the kitchen and found the bottle of wine Minho had given you. You grabbed it along with the bottle opener and sat it down on the coffee table next to Miyeon’s empty glass, and sat down on the floor again.

“That guy Jaebeom that we don’t talk about.”

“What about before him?” Felix asked leaning forward to open the bottle of wine.

You rubbed your face wondering if you should just lie. You knew you could get away with it. You were pretty sure Changbin hadn’t told Miyeon about your night with Minho. Minho had threatened him that he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. The only other person who might have known would have been Chan.

“God it’s been so long,” you let out a soft laugh trying to avoid answering the question.

“Who was it?” Miyeon pressed. Once Miyeon wants to know something she’ll press on about it until she gets the information she wants.

Felix filled all three glasses as your eyes stayed locked on the bottle Minho had bought you.

“Why are you avoiding the question so much?” Felix asked.

“Stop teaming up on me,” you leaned forward and grabbed your glass.

“Why are you hiding something?” Miyeon asked as she reached for her glass of wine.

You took a deep breath wondering if you should say something. You hesitated before finally saying, “Minho.”

Both of them stared at you with the same confused look as if they were processing what you had just said to them. Miyeon’s eyes went wide and asked, “as in our friend Lee Minho?”

Slowly you nodded your head.

Felix’s eyes went wide, “when did that happen?”

You closed your eyes knowing you were going to have to relive that night and tell them the story of you and Minho.

-&-

You had received a text from Minho informing you that he had a really rough day, and he asked you to meet him down at the bar the group normally went to. You didn’t think twice about agreeing to meet him there. You had just finished eating and Miyeon was out on a date with Changbin. You walked into your room to find something to wear since you were already in your pajamas when Minho texted you.

Looking through your closet you found an olive dress that's fitted at the waist and  flared out. Grabbing your favorite leather jacket you pulled that on and grabbed your black knee high boots. Walking over to the mirror you couldn’t help but smile, because you felt hot. Sometimes you lacked confidence in the way you looked. Right then It felt nice to love the way you looked.

Heading out of your apartment you took a cab down to the bar. It was within walking distance but you preferred taking a cab instead. Walking into the bar you found Minho sitting at a table in the back. As you approached the booth Minho’s warm eyes traveled up and down your body. Sliding into the booth you leaned forward resting your hand on your cheek and smiled. He looked really handsome sitting there. He looked so effortlessly good sitting across from you.

“Hey Minho,” you said with your face still resting against your cheek.

“You look really pretty.” His sweet words gave you butterflies. Sure Minho had complimented you before but he had never told you that you looked pretty.

“Thank you,” you leaned back against the booth. “You okay?” You asked knowing that he had a rough day.

“Well I found out today that Ara is moving and she then proceeded to break up with me,” he let out a heavy sigh as he reached for his beer that was sitting on the table in front of him.

Your eyes went wide as you took in what he had just said to you. Minho and Ara had been together for about a year and half, and Minho seemed like he was really in love with her. You thought she might be the lucky girl that was going to get to marry the man sitting across from you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry to hear that Minho,” you reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He didn’t think anything of it as you held his hand. His warm eyes seemed trained on you as you stared at him.

“Why don’t we get you a beer or something?” Minho said softly as the waitress approached.

You ordered yourself the same beer as Minho. You personally weren’t much of a beer drinker, but it felt right drinking a beer with Minho. He went on to tell you about how he felt like things between him and Ara were going to end sooner than later. He felt like they were starting to drift apart and he believed that her breaking up with him was something that was going to happen sooner or later.

After two beers Minho thought it would be a good idea for you two to play a game of pool. After some protesting on your part, and telling him how terrible you were. He convinced you to play telling you that he would teach you. You watched him set up and take his first turn, and when he finished he turned you with a lopsided smile that would make any girl melt. You needed to remind yourself that he didn’t like you like that. Taking your position you leaned over the table and shivered when you felt Minho stand behind you. His strong body was meshed against yours as he helped you position your stick.

With his lips near your ear he said, “you’re going to aim for the purple solid colored ball.”

Silently you nodded your head as he guided you to shoot the ball. The ball went into the pocket and you took a deep breath as Minho pulled away from you. You turned to look at him with your body pressed against the table. His strong hand was on your round hip as his brown eyes were locked on yours. Your whole body was tense as your eyes stayed locked on his.  He leaned forward slightly and you weren’t sure if he was going to kiss you, and you didn’t know if you had enough self control to stop yourself from kissing him. With his face a mere inch away from yours he said, “good job doll. Take your next turn.”

He turned you around slowly and you leaned back over the table. He meshed his body once again against yours and he helped you line up your shot again. You took another shot and missed and Minho pulled away from you and gave you a smile. You stood about a foot apart as Minho smirked before taking his shot. Before he could take his second shot you both looked up when you heard Changbin call out Minho’s name. You wanted to groan at the thought of your friends joining in on your time with Minho.

Sam, Miyeon, Felix, and Chan all walked into the bar together. Felix and Miyeon walked over to the booth that you and Minho had been sitting in and Changbin and Chan walked over to Minho.

As you walked away Minho grabbed your arm and you turned to face him. Before you could say anything he leaned over and with his lips brushed against your ear whispered, “hey don’t let them kill the moment.”

You weren’t sure exactly what he meant but you nodded your head and walked over to the group. They asked why you and Minho were hanging out and you told them that Minho had a rough day and asked you to meet him. The boys continued to play a game of pool as you hung out with Miyeon and Felix. You were all drinking and having a great time. Soon the boys walked over and slid into the u shaped booth. Minho slid in and sat down next to you. With his arm thrown over the back of the booth his hand rested on your shoulder as he sat close to you. It didn’t seem like anyone in the group found it odd how close you were being. His arm went from resting on the back of the booth to his hand resting on your thigh. It was an innocent touch at first. Goosebumps covered your skin as his hand gently moved into your inner thigh. You looked off to the side to find him smirking before taking a sip of his beer.

As everyone was laughing about something Minho leaned over and whispered, “are you okay with me touching you?”

Silently you nodded and took a deep breath. Everyone hung out for about another hour and half when Chan headed out, and Felix followed about ten minutes later. You were left sitting at the table with Minho, Miyeon and Changbin. You excused yourself to use the restroom, you needed a moment to gather yourself. Minho’s touch left your whole body feeling warm and fuzzy. You stared into the bathroom mirror and applied lip balm as you gave yourself a little pep talk before walking back to the booth. You found Changbin and Miyeon saying they were heading back to Changbin’s place.

Standing next to the booth it was only you and Minho once again. He stood up and reached towards you and pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His finger slowly dragged down your jaw as he stared at your lips.

“Did you want to come back to my place?” He asked.

Silently you nodded and reached down and laced your fingers with his. He led you out to the bar and hailed the first cab that passed for you. You slid into the back seat with him and his hand was once around resting on your thigh. Your breathing felt short and your body felt warm and fuzzy. Pulling up to Minho and Chan’s apartment complex you pray that Chan wasn’t home.

Minho led you upstairs to his apartment and you noticed the place was silent as Minho shut the door. You stood a few feet away from Minho as you watched him take off his jacket leaving it on the coat rack by the door.

“Chan’s out with some chick he’s kind of seeing,” Minho said.

“Okay,” you nodded.

He walked towards you and took your hand once again and led you towards his room. You had been in here a few times before but never under the circumstances that you were in there this time. Standing at the foot of his bed he walked over and pushed off your leather jacket. As it hit the floor he leaned forward and connected his lips to yours for your first kiss. He held your face in both hands as your lips moved together. His touch was electric as butterflies danced around in your stomach as your lips continued to move together. Pulling away he smiled as you reached for the bottom of his shirt. He helped you pull his shirt off the rest of the way and as he stood there in front of you shirtless looking absolutely beautiful you dragged your fingers across his abs causing his stomach to tense. Your bottom lip was captured between your teeth. Looking up at him you notice his pupils were blown with lust as he looked at you like a man starving.

Dropping to his knees in front of you he unzipped your boots and pulled them off you slowly. There was something about him undressing you that was simply erotic. Standing up he removed his shoes and socks before removing his jeans. He stood in front of you in nothing but a pair of small boxer-briefs that left little to the imagination. He was already hard and you could tell how was big. Reaching over he pulled off your olive dress leaving you in nothing but your mix match bra and panties. If you had known this was going to happen maybe you would have picked your favorite black lace cheeky panties and the matching lace black bra that holds your breast perfectly.

His strong hands reach out and massage your breast through your bra. Closing your eyes you enjoy the feeling of his hands on you. His hands leave your breast as he walks behind you to unhook your bra. He reaches up and pushes the straps down and the bra falls at your feet. He pushes your hair to the side and places wet kisses at the base of your neck, and you felt yourself growing wetter. The air feels thick as you desperately want more. You gasped as he reached in around you and massaged you bare breast. His fingers roll your nipples as his lips kiss their way down your neck to the top of your shoulder. Rolling your head back, it rests on his shoulder as you moan, closing your eyes. His other hand reached down into your panties. His fingers slide through your wet folds and he groans with his lips against your shoulder.

With his lips ghosting your skin he groans, “you’re so wet.” Hey played with your sensitive nub as your body rubs against his. The way he’s touching you he’s about to push you over the edge without even trying. You reach back gripping his thighs wanting to get your hands on you.

“I’m close,” you whine.

His lips gently nipped at your shoulder as he pushed you over the edge. A gasp passes your lips as a white hot wave washes over you. Your chest rises and falls as ecstasy takes over you. He removed his hands from your core as you held your stomach with one hand and the other grip his wrist as you panted. You felt weak in the knees as you rested against him.

With his lips brushing your ears he whispered, “take your panties off and get on the bed.”

Without even a thought you silently obeyed him. You pulled off your panties and crawled onto his bed. You sat on the bed and watched as he removed his underwear. His hardened length hit his stomach and you swallowed at the thought of him being inside of you. Walking over to his night stand he grabbed a foil packet and tore it open with his teeth, and rolled the rubber down his length.

He sat down on the bed and patted his thighs. You opened your mouth to protest him, to tell him that you didn’t feel comfortable being on top. But he didn’t give you a chance to protest. He connected your lips to yours for another heated kiss. He pulled on you to come closer to him. Straddling his thighs he lined his length up with your entrance before you slowly sank down on his length. You gasped as you took all of him. Your hands were pressed against his chest as his fingers gripped your soft sides. He closed his eyes as he was trying to calm down, he was painfully hard and you were tight. Silently you panted as you stared at him. His warm eyes slowly opened and he gave you a sweet smile before leaning forward to press his lips to yours for a sweet kiss.

“You okay to start moving?” He asked, sounding like a man desperately on the brink of the edge.

You slowly moved your body up and down his length. His hands gripped your hips helping you move. The way he felt was amazing and the way he was looking at you made you feel like you were falling apart. Your lips moved together as your bodies moved as one. One of your hands taloned into his shoulder as the other held his cheek as your forehead rested against his. Nothing but the sound of quiet moans and panting could be heard in the room. The coil in your stomach was tightening and you knew you wouldn’t last long.

You gasped his name as you hit your high. Your head rolled back as you moaned, and Minho’s strong hands helped you continue to move up and down his length. Soon Minho hit his own high as he held your body flush against his thighs. You leaned forward resting your forehead against his again with your mouth open and panting. His eyes were held closed tight, one of his hands moved from your side that was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow, up to your cheek.

Pulling away from him you looked at him and suddenly the fear that you were just a rebound washed over you. Your eyes went wide as you stared at him and stupidly you said, “we should act like this never happened. Nobody can know.”

A hurt look formed on his face as he stared at you, “okay.”

-&-

Felix and Miyeon stared at you in complete shock at what you had just told them. You took a sip of wine realizing that Minho was no longer your secret. You couldn’t believe that you had just told them the one thing you hadn’t told anyone.

“Holy shit,” Miyeon said.

“How the hell did nobody know this?” Felix asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was just a rebound, and we made the decision to never talk about it.”

As the night went on your friends continued to ask you questions about your night with Minho and the more you talked about it couldn’t help but be confused by your own feelings.

-

Sitting at your desk you were working on an assignment that had a deadline approaching. Jisung was sitting on the other side of your desk with his laptop in front of him working on part of the same assignment you were working on. His fingers drummed on the table as he was reading back what he had just written. The noise caught your attention and you looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Resting your elbow on the table you leaned forward resting your chin in the palm of your hand. Glancing up at you he smirked and raised his eyebrows as he reached for a pen and started to twirl it between his fingers. Jisung had a bunch of little things he would do out of boredom and you couldn’t lie you couldn’t help but find it adorable.

“I hate this assignment,” he let out a heavy sigh as he stopped spinning the pen. 

“I’m not a fan of it either.”

“If the deadline wasn’t Friday I would just say fuck it let’s go get drinks,” he let out a soft laugh.

It’s times like this you were shocked that you were able to get anything done working with Jisung.

“Well thank god it’s Thursday,” you went back to typing. You needed to focus and try to get this assignment done, but Jisung wasn’t making it easy. Your fingers moved away typing and looked up, feeling Jisung’s eyes burning a hole into you. You knew he wasn’t working. You gently shook your head as glanced up and watched him continue to twirl the pen.

“Are you actually going to work today?” You asked curiously.

He shrugged and leaned back in the chair, “I haven’t decided yet.”

When you met Jisung on your first day of work you two quickly became friends. Your desks were originally next to each other before both of you got promoted, and got your own offices. Even when you both got separate offices it didn’t stop Jisung from constantly sitting at the chair in front of your desk with his laptop on your desk.

“You know you’re being dramatic right?”

He shrugged again and smiled, “a little drama never hurt anyone.”

“You always keep work interesting,” you laughed as you went back to typing. You were determined to get most of the assignments done today so you wouldn’t have to be super stressed out on Friday. You both worked on the assignment for about another hour before it was your lunch break. You and Jisung had decided to walk down to your favorite coffee shop down the street together. You walked side by side as Jisung was telling you about some random story about the time he went on vacation with his friends and they got so drunk they went swimming in a fountain at the local college. You listened and laughed along, and you couldn’t help but notice that things between you and Jisung always seemed so easy. You never felt like you had to put in any effort with him.

Walking into the coffee shop you ordered your coffee, your usual iced soy vanilla latte, and before you could pay Jisung jumped in and ordered his own Americano and handed the perky barista his debit card.

“You didn’t have to pay,” you said as you walked over to the bar area to wait for your drink.

“I don’t let pretty women pay for their own coffee,” he smiled as he leaned against the bar.

Han Jisung was the definition of the perfect guy, he was charming, kind, handsome, and funny. Lots of women would kill to have him buy them coffee. The way the barista was staring at him it was obvious that she also thought he was attractive.

“You’re too charming for your own good,” you leaned against the bar next to him.

“There’s no such thing,” he smirked, playing with the bottom of his tie.

“Iced soy vanilla latte,” the barista said as she placed the drink on the counter in front of you.

Jisung watched as you took a drink of your latte before saying, “since you now have caffeine in you does that mean you’re going to be nice to me the rest of the day?”

Shaking your head, “I’m always nice to you.”

With his hand on his chest he dramatically said, “and I’m truly honored that I’m the only person who doesn’t have to deal with you being cranky as you go through caffeine withdrawals.”

“Ice Americano,” the barista called out, placing Jisung’s drink in front of him.

You walked back to the office and drank your coffee together before you went back to working on your assignment. That deadline was rapidly approaching and you really just wanted to finish it. As your work day was supposed to be coming to a close neither of you were anywhere near being done. You both made the decision to stay late and work on completing the project. Jisung went ahead and ordered Chinese food for both of you. With your laptops both closed you ate your take out. It was already seven at night and you both knew you were going to be there for at least another hour.

“So Miyeon and Changbin came home last night and they both agreed that I would throw a little party,” you said before taking a bite of your chow mein.

“When is this classy get together happening?” Jisung asked.

“I’m thinking tomorrow night,” you were curious as to whether Jisung was going to have an excuse on why he couldn’t come. The last event you had invited him to come to he had to pass because he had a date.

“Is this my formal invitation?” He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders the same way Jisung always did, “I would really like it if you came.”

He leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, “what’s in it for me if I come?”

You leaned forward on the desk in the same manner Jisung was and smirked at him, “you’ll get to drink  and like actually hang out with me. Without the pressure of a deadline weighing on us.”

“What kind of liquor are we talking about?” He asked, causing you to smile.

“I know how much you like whiskey,” you leaned back in your chair.

He was still leaning against the table staring at you smiling, his eyes were locked on you watching as you smiled at him. “A woman after my heart.”

“What can I say I know you well Jisung,” you said with a soft laugh.

“Well my schedule is clear tomorrow. You just have to promise me you’ll have whiskey for me,” he raised his eyebrow and smiled.

“I can make that promise,” you place your hand out with your pinky sticking out. He reached forward and linked his pinky with yours before shaking it. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the fact that you just made a pink promise with him.

After another hour of work you finally finished the assignment and you both head your own separate ways.

As you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help but be relieved that you had finally finished that stressful assignment. You walked into your bedroom desperately wanting to get dressed for bed. As you stripped away your work clothing you heard your phone ding. As you pulled up your pajama pants you walked over to your phone to see you had a text from Minho.

Minho: I heard you’re having a party tomorrow.  Did you want me to bring the moscato?

You couldn’t help but smile at his text. Minho truly knew your love of moscato.

Y/N: That would be great. The party starts at 8.

As you sat down on your bed you heard your phone ding again. You picked it up to see another text.

Minho: alright I’ll be there.

Things with Minho have seemed to be less awkward and that might have something to do with the fact you didn’t feel like you were living with the secret that you and Minho had seen each other naked. It also might have something to do with the fact that Minho was putting in an effort to be friends again. Whatever it was you were happy with the direction things were going.

-

The deadline had passed and you were relieved to have that weight lifted off your shoulders. You were attempting to figure out what you should wear to the little party you were throwing. You stood in your bedroom in nothing but your bra and panties. You had your hair and make up already done, but you had no clue what you were going to wear. Shuffling through your clothes you found a pair of skin tight black jeans that you always thought made your ass look amazing. You pulled them up and shimmied them up your thighs and over your ass. Once they were buttoned you went back to working on finding a top to wear. You found a black and white floral button up that you thought would look cute with your jeans and a pair of black ankle boots. 

Walking into your living room you couldn’t help but smile when Miyeon used her old key to walk into the apartment. She wasn’t alone, Changbin followed behind her holding a case of beer in one hand and a bag that was filled with chips.

You didn’t even bother saying anything about her using her old key. You helped her carry the stuff to the kitchen. Her and Changbin helped you set up before Chan and Felix walked in. All five of you set up the apartment before some friends started showing up. By nine-thirty the apartment was filled with people, and that’s when Minho walked in. He walked over to you and Miyeon, and Changbin who were standing by the kitchen. He said hello then walked over to the counter that was filled with drinks. He stood there watching as you made yourself a whiskey and coke.

“I didn’t think you were much of a whiskey drinker?” He stated as he poured a shot of whiskey into his own cup.

Shrugging your shoulders you took a drink of your strong concoction.

“I like your outfit by the way,” he said, picking his cup up from the table.

“Thanks, I like your sweater,” you said awkwardly. You weren’t lying to him, you did like his sweater. It was a grey one that made his warm eyes pop. Minho's eyes were a beautiful warm shade with hazel flecks. Years ago you often found yourself getting lost in his eyes as he would talk to you. 

Before he could even respond Jisung captured your attention as he walked into your kitchen. He wasted no time giving you a hug. “I can’t believe you actually showed up,” you couldn’t help but be surprised that he actually showed up. You had been waiting all night for his text telling you, something came up.

He shrugged, “you promised me alcohol and your attention.”

Jisung turned to Minho who was watching him with his eyebrows knit together. He stuck his hand out and introduced himself to Minho who didn’t exactly seem thrilled to be meeting him. Minho took this as his cue to go find Chan.

“I should introduce you to everyone,” You beamed.

Jisung followed you as you led him into the living room where Felix was sitting with Changbin, and Miyeon. Jisung had already met Miyeon, but he hadn’t ever met anyone else. Him and Changbin hit it off right away, the two of them already started cracking jokes between each other. You led Jisung over to Chan who was out on the balcony with Minho and some random red head. You introduced him to Chan and you could tell that Minho just seemed off, but you chose to brush it off and led Jisung back inside. You didn’t want to worry about why Minho seemed annoyed.

As the night went on the apartment was filled with people that were either friends with you, or one of your five close friends. You and Jisung were inseparable during the party. He was next to you the whole time. It was nice to hang out with him outside of work. He was just as charming when it was just the two of you hanging out. Jisung and you were in the kitchen standing by the window, you both had shot glasses in your hands. For some reason you let Jisung talk you into taking a shot. You clink your glasses together and let the golden liquid slide down your throat. You winced at the burn as you sat the glass down.  Shaking your head you remembered how much you hated taking shots.

“Still not a huge fan of whiskey?” Jisung said as he sat his glass down next to yours.

“Not really.”

Reaching over he touched your hand and smiled, “you did way better job at taking shots then I ever thought you would.”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his comment, “I’m much more of a wine drinker personally.”

His hand never left the top of yours and said, “So you're the type of girl that likes to get wine drunk?”

“I prefer to not get drunk at all actually.” You couldn’t help but wince a little thinking back to some drunken nights that led to hangovers when you were younger. “In college I learned some hard lessons about drinking too much.”

He bit his lip holding back a smile, and you couldn’t help but focus on his lips suddenly. “Were you a total party girl in college?” Jisung asked.

Shaking your head you bit back a laugh, “oh god no. I was too focused on school to actually party.”

“So I would have found you in a library with your nose in a book?” He asked with his hand still resting on yours.

“No, you would have found me in a coffee shop. I loved coffee then as much as I do now.”

“Did you have the same coffee order that you do now?”

Shaking your head you said, “no I used to get four shots over ice with soy milk. That was my drink when I was studying nonstop.”

You and Jisung stay by each other the whole party. You stayed in the kitchen for a while before you headed out to the balcony to get some fresh air. You were sitting at the two chairs that sat in the corner of the balcony. Minho and Chan walked out and told you they were ordering some pizza for the group since most people had left. Minho’s eyes seemed to stay locked on yours for a long moment before they traveled down to your knee where Jisung’s hand rested. His eye’s bounced back to yours eyes that stared at him trying to figure out what was going through his mind. Minho excused himself and headed off back into the living area where the rest of the group was.

“Maybe we should go inside and work on cleaning the place up a little,”

You nodded and stood up. You both walked back inside and went around picking up red cups that were left around, luckily most of the people who attended the party were grown ups and didn’t leave a huge mess everywhere.

When the pizza arrived, you and Jisung sat down in the living room with Felix, Chan, Miyeon, Changbin, and Minho.  You sat on the floor next to Felix and Jisung sat down next to you. You all started eating the greasy pizza and were talking about random things. Somehow we got onto the topic of favorite drunk foods, and then somehow Felix managed to start talking about his date he’s having soon. When the topic of dates came up Minho’s eyes moved to yours and you stared at him for a long moment before you looked away.

Chan was the first to head out and he offered to walk home with Felix, and Miyeon and Changbin left shortly after. Minho hung around with you and Jisung for a couple minutes before he headed out. You walked Minho to the door. He paused for a moment before he gave you a long lingering hug.

Walking back into the living room Jisung was sitting on the couch smiling. Walking over you  sat down on the couch next to him. Leaning back relaxed you and let out a heavy sigh and smiled over at Jisung who was staring at you.

“So is there something going on between you and Minho?” He asked not to even trying to sugar coat it.

“No,” you said probably too quickly.

“Okay cool,” he said casually.

“Why do you ask Han Jisung?” You asked curiously.

“Well it’s because I was going to ask you on a date, but I wanted to make sure you were fully available,” he smirked, pushing his fingers through his dark hair.

Your heart raced at the thought of going on a date with Jisung. He was handsome, funny, and kind. He had all the great qualities you looked for in a man. “Are you asking me on a date?” You asked.

“Yes, (Y/N) I’m asking you on a date. How about next Friday I take you out?” He reached over and rested his hand on your knee.

A smile spread across your face and you couldn’t help but smile, “I would really like that.”

“Okay awesome,” he smiled as he stood up. “I would love to stay longer, but it’s getting late.”

You stood up quickly and you followed Jisung to the front door. He went to reach for the door knob and stopped. He quickly turned to you and pressed his lips to yours for a soft kiss. He reached up and rested his hand on your cheek.

Pulling his lips away from yours he smiled and said, “I’ll see you bright and early Monday at work.”

You bit your lip trying your hardest to hold back a huge smile as Jisung walked out the front door. You couldn’t lie, you were going to be counting down the days until your date with Jisung.

-

It was a bright Sunday morning when you awoke to the sun shining in your eyes. Rolling over onto your back you stretched your sleepy body and let out a quiet yawn. Slowly you crawled out of bed and walked into your bathroom. Looking into the mirror you noticed that your mascara had small smudges underneath your eyes. Walking over to the shower you reached inside and turned on the water giving it time to warm up. You stripped off your pajamas and stepped into the warm water. You were still pretty sleepy and you were hoping the warm water would help wake you up. You worked on washing your hair and washing your body with your fruity scented body wash. Your last step was using your oatmeal cleanser to remove the remnants of your makeup that you failed to wipe away last night. Getting out of the shower you wrapped yourself in a towel and walked off back into your bedroom.

Looking through your closet you tried to find something to wear while your ran a few errands. You settled on a sweater and a pair of black jeans. You pulled the skin tight jeans up your thighs and put on a pair of ankle boots. Walking back into your bathroom you put on some barely there makeup and worked on taming your wet hair. You settled on running a wide tooth comb through it a few times before pulling your hair back into a loose braid.

Walking into your room you grabbed your phone that was sitting on your nightstand and saw that it was only nine forty-five in the morning. Walking through your apartment you grabbed your purse that was sitting on the small table next to the front door.

As you made your way down the street you let out a yawn letting you know that you were definitely going to need coffee to make it through your errands that you needed to run. You walked a block up the street to your favorite little coffee shop. You got in the small line and waited a few minutes before ordering your favorite iced soy vanilla latte. As you waited at the bar you saw a familiar face walking into the coffee shop. You couldn’t help but gently shake your head at the sight of Minho waiting to order his drink.

He looked over at you and gave you a crooked smile and a small wave. He ordered his drink and walked over to the bar where you were waiting for your coffee.

“Good morning,” he gave you that same crooked smile again.

“Morning Minho.”

“I would say I’m surprised to see you, but you’re the one who told me about this place,” he said leaning against the bar.

“It’s got the best coffee in town,” you said as they placed your ice latte on the counter in front of you. “What brings you here this early?” You’re curious to know why he’s out this early.

“Chan had a lady over last night and to be honest I didn’t want to witness their awkward goodbye.”

“Was she aware it was a one night stand?” You asked well aware that Bang Chan was the love them and leave them type of guy.

“I’m not sure if she is aware of how he is.”

You couldn’t help but groan knowing that poor girl probably wasn’t ready to learn that Chan wasn’t the type of guy to be in a relationship.

“What are you up to this morning?” Minho asked.

“I had a few errands in need to run. I needed to go to the store and pick up a birthday present for my mom, and then I needed to pick up a few things from the grocery store,” you said before taking a sip of your delicious latte.

“Well I’m trying to avoid my place. Do you mind if I tag along?” He asked as they placed his cup of coffee on the bar in front of him.

You couldn’t help but wonder if things between you might be a little awkward spending the morning/afternoon together. You gave him a smile before saying, “sure.”

“Okay, where are we going first,” he smiled.

“I need to go to this store a few blocks up the street, my mom saw a purse that she wanted.”

You led the way out of the coffee shop and Minho followed you down the street towards the boutique that sold the purse your mom wanted. Things between you and Minho felt so casual as he was talking about how he was still trying to figure out what to get for his own mother for her birthday. This was the first time in a really long time that things didn’t feel even the slightest bit awkward between you and Minho. Walking into the small store that sold way too overpriced purses and clothing you walked straight towards the purse that your mom had been eyeballing the last time she drove into the city to see you. Minho silently stood next to you and watched as you held the purse looking over it to make sure it was the perfect gift for your loving mother.

“Is that one?” He asked, speaking up.

You nodded, “yeah last time she was in town she couldn’t help but talk about how pretty it was.”

You walked over to the register where a young girl stood with her phone in her hand. You put it down and took the bag from you.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” She asked before her eyes immediately jumped to Minho who was standing next to you. Her attention immediately switched to the handsome man next to you.

“Yeah thanks,” you said, staring right at her. You couldn’t lie, you didn’t like that she was looking at Minho like she was undressing him with her eyes.

You handed your silver plastic card to the girl and looked up at Minho who was staring at you. You gave him a smile. He gave you that crooked smile that girl who was behind the register could only dream of him giving her. He must have noticed how uncomfortable the girl was making you because he reached up and placed his hand on your shoulder and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you looked back at the girl who was handing your card back to you.

“Would you like the receipt in the bag?” She asked.

“Yes please.”

She placed the shopping bag on the counter and said, “have a wonderful day.”

“Thank you, you too,” you said as you grabbed the bag and walked out of the store.

Minho didn’t say anything as he followed you down the street. You walked about a block down the road before you stopped and turned to him, “did you maybe want to grab breakfast together?”

He nodded his head and smiled, “yeah that would be great.”

“I know a diner around the corner who has the best banana pancakes.”

“Sounds great, lead the way.”

He followed you as you walked towards the diner that was hidden away from the busy street, a place that only locals really knew about. You walked over and sat down in a booth against the back wall that had a bunch of photos of idols.

The waitress came by and took your drink orders and as your eyes roamed the menu Minho asked, “how did you find this place?”

“Miyeon found it when we moved in together and we used to come here every other Sunday to get breakfast together.”

“Have you guys ever taken anyone else in the group here?” He asked.

You shook your head and placed your menu down on the table, “I mean she’s probably taken Changbin here before but I haven’t ever brought Felix or Chan here.”

“Well I feel honored,” he said as he placed his menu down on the table as the waitress walked over and sat your guy's cup of coffee down on the table. You ordered those banana pancakes you had told Minho about, and he ordered them as well and a side of hash browns. According to him you couldn’t go to a diner and not get hash browns.

The moment the waitress walked away you started pouring a little bit of cream into your coffee. Minho was one of the few people who never really gave you shit about your love of coffee. He had always been the person that if you said you needed coffee he would go with you to get a cup without even questioning if you were going to be able to sleep because it was getting late. On your last birthday he went to Seattle right before your birthday and brought you back a few different types of coffees from the city.

“How did your party go over all?” Minho asked as he was pouring cream into his own coffee.

You shrugged your shoulders, noticing that you didn’t really do much at the party other than spend time with Jisung. “I think it went well. It was the first party that I have thrown that I didn’t wake up super hungover,” you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

“Well I’m happy to hear that you didn’t get wasted,” he paused for a moment before he spoke again. “So that was Jisung guy, your coworker?’

It felt really like hearing him ask about Jisung, “yeah he’s my coworker.”

“He seems like a nice guy. Is there something going on with you guys?” He was trying his hardest to ask without coming off as jealous.

“I mean I guess now,” you paused and smiled a little thinking back to the kiss that you shared the other night. “He asked me out at the party.”

“Oh,” Minho couldn’t hide the surprised tone in his voice. “When is the date?”

“Friday,” you said softly.

“Oh cool, like I said he seems like a great guy,” he said as the waitress walked over and sat down our food on the table.

Silently you both started eating. You were about half way through your pancake when you looked up at Minho who was staring at his pancake. You hated that things quickly switched back to being awkward between you.

“Minho?” You spoke up and put your fork down on your napkins.

“Yeah?” He looked up at you finally.

“We’re good right?”

His eyebrows knit together as he stared at you for a long moment, “yeah.”

“You promise you mean that, right?”

You liked where your friendship was going, things were finally starting to feel normal between you. You couldn’t go back to the awkwardness just because you were going on a date with Jisung.

“It’s odd to hear that you’re going on a date with Jisung,” he swallowed and his warm eyes locked onto your worried eyes. “I can’t lie, I'm a little jealous. We’re working on getting things back to normal between us, and it is just odd for me. We’re fine though I want us to be friends again.” Everything he had just said to you was so sweet but you couldn’t help but focus on the fact that he admitted to you that he was jealous.

“You’re jealous?” You knew you shouldn't have asked him that, but you really wanted him to clarify why exactly he was jealous.

“Yeah I’m kinda jealous, but don’t worry it’s not gonna ruin our friendship.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head, still attempting to process what he had just told you.

As breakfast went on you tried to not think about the fact that Minho was jealous, but you couldn’t lie it seemed to leave you confused. When you finished eating the waitress brought the check and Minho didn’t even let you look at the bill before he quickly gave the waitress the bill with his card.

“You didn’t have to pay for me,” you said before taking another drink of your coffee.

“There was no way I was letting you pay when I crashed your errand day,” he said as he was filling out the bill.

After leaving the diner the two of you walked to the grocery store that was near your apartment. You had to get some olive oil and some vegetables. Minho pushes your cart as you were looking for the best produce.

“I’m always worried I’m going to pick something that doesn’t taste good,” you held up an ear of corn towards him.

“I guess sometimes you have to take the gamble,” he reached over and grabbed a bag to put the corn in that you were picking.

“I’m not great at gambling,” you knew this conversation wasn’t exactly about corn anymore.

“Maybe you should take a risk every so often,” he took the ear of corn from your hand and placed it in the bag. Your eyes were locked on Minho unsure of what exactly you should say to him. “Some things are worth the risk,” he said slowly as his eyes locked on yours.

“You’re probably right,” you said as you slowly started to walk towards the apples.

You finished grocery shopping and Minho helped you carry them home. Things between you weren’t exactly awkward, but things seemed different. There suddenly seemed to be some tension between you. Walking into your apartment Minho walked you to your door and hugged you goodbye.

His parting words to you were, “everything between us is good.”

As you were left alone in your apartment you put your groceries away and you couldn’t help but constantly think about Minho. The day you had just spent with him left you even more confused than you already were. You wanted nothing more in the world to have a normal friendship with Minho, but you weren’t exactly sure that was an option.

-

It was a lazy Thursday after work and somehow Chan convinced you to come over and help him cook dinner. Bang Chan was a man of many talents, but cooking wasn’t one of them. Standing in front of the stove you were stirring pasta as Chan was cutting up some veggies for the salad you two were making. You swayed a little as you moved to the beat of the radio Chan had turned on.

“Is Minho going to be here for dinner?” You asked as you reached for a plate to dish your dinner.

 He tossed the rest of the veggies into the salad and said, “yeah he should be here any minute. He’s still at work, he’s helping Seungmin with something.”

“Do we have to wait for him to eat?” You asked as you dished his plate.

“No I’m not eating cold pasta,” he said with a soft chuckle.

You took both the plates to the kitchen table and Chan brought the bowl of salad along with two bowls. Sitting down you both started eating the dinner you had cooked together. You made it about five minutes into eating when Chan asked you the question you had been waiting for him to ask you since Sunday.

“So is it true you have a date with Jisung?”

You and Chan had a really special relationship, outside of Miyeon he was probably your best friend. He was the most protective over you out of anyone, and always had your best interest at heart.

You looked up at him knowing that Minho had obviously said something to him after you had spent the morning with him.

“Minho really can’t keep a secret from you very long can he?”

Shaking his head he said, “that’s not true. He somehow managed to keep it a secret for over a year that you two had slept together.”

You felt your stomach had dropped at what he had just said. You weren’t shocked by any means that Minho told him what had happened between you, especially since Changbin knew, but there was something about Chan saying that he knew made you suddenly feel extremely awkward. It was official that the whole group knew about you and Minho sleeping together, but you still felt like maybe it should have just been a secret between the two of you.

“What’s going on between you and Minho? You seem to be spending more time together again, and you two don’t act like strangers anymore?”

You shrugged your shoulders because you couldn’t even explain what was going on. Since you two had agreed to start working on your friendship, you couldn’t lie you felt really confused on what was going on between the two of you.

“I wish I could just lie to you and say nothing is going on, but I’m just really confused Chan. The last few years things between us have been so weird. Like Minho and I used to be so close and I can’t lie I had a really big crush on him, and we hooked up…” you paused thinking about that night you had spent with Minho. “That night was great, but I was nothing but a rebound and I realized that and I told him to never talk about what had happened. Everything was just so awkward between us after, and recently things between us have been getting back to normal. Then I spent the morning with Minho on Sunday, and he told me he was jealous of Jisung, and I’m just confused by everything.” You knew you were rambling and everything you were saying probably didn’t make sense but you needed someone to know what was going on in your head.

“Do you still like Minho?” Chan knew it wasn’t a simple yes or no answer.

“Chan, I don’t know. Over the last few years things have been so weird between us, and at the wedding Minho was acting weird towards me and honestly I have been so confused since.” You looked down at the table wishing that you could just push away your feelings that seemed to be confusing the hell out of you.

“If it makes you feel any better, Minho is equally as confused as you. I haven’t ever really seen him be jealous before. I don’t think he planned on admitting he was jealous of Jisung to me, it just kind of slipped out when he was telling me about what you guys did on Sunday.”

“I haven’t ever seen him jealous either.”

Chan was right Minho wasn’t really the jealous type. He didn’t have a reason to be Minho had his life really together with a great job, and he was handsome and charming and could get any girl he really wanted.

“Oh and just so you know you weren’t a rebound. Minho really liked you and still does,” his last words knocked your world sideways.

With wide eyes you stared at him with your mouth slightly agape before you could even respond the door opened and Minho walked in. His ears must have been burning knowing you were talking about him with his terrible timing walking in. Chan stared at you grinning knowing that he just said something that had completely caught you off guard. If Minho knew what Chan had just said he would probably slap his best friend.

“Oh hey (y/n) I didn’t know you were over.” Minho said, taking his jacket off.

As Minho hung up his jacket on the coat rack you looked over at Chan who was still grinning and narrowed your eyes at him and glared.

“Dinner is on the stove,” Chan said casually.

You still gave Chan a death glare, and  you whispered, “I thought you said Minho knew I was coming over?”

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, “I guess I forgot to tell him.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you whispered right before Minho walked over and sat down at the table.

You went back to eating your pasta but you continued to glare at Chan who looked pretty proud of himself.

“How was work?” Chan asked Minho.

“It was okay. I had to stay late and help Seungmin work on something,” he said before taking a bite of his pasta. “How was your day (Y/N)?” He asked you.

“It was a pretty boring day at work.”

“What about you Chan?” Minho asked.

Chan shrugged his shoulders before taking a drink of his glass of water. Sitting the glass down he said, “it was a normal day.”

Chan pulled out his phone and started scrolling his contacts. You and Minho stared at each other for a long moment. Minho gave you a soft smile before taking a bite of his dinner. You all ate your dinner together for about five minutes making small talk here and there before Chan stood up and clapped his hands together and smiled.

“I’m very sorry that I have to bail on both of you but I have plans with a pretty redhead.”

You could tell by the grin that was plastered across his face that he was leaving you alone with Minho on purpose. Chan had dropped a bomb on you by telling you that Minho had liked you when you slept together, and that he still had feelings for you. Minho stared at Chan with his eyebrows knit together and was pretty confused on why Chan was leaving suddenly.

“What happened to having dinner with (Y/N)?” Minho asked.

“Doll, are you okay with me heading out? If you aren’t I can stay with you and Minho,” he was smiling knowing damn well that you weren’t going to tell him to stay.

“Have fun with your redhead. I’m pretty sure Minho can help me do the dishes.”

He walked over towards you and leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your head. He walked off to his room to grab a few things, and he left you and Minho sitting at the table staring at each other. Leaning back in your chair you wondered if you should bring up the night you and Minho had shared together. Chan had told you that you weren’t a rebound and you wanted to ask Minho if he had feelings for you the night that you had slept together.

Chan headed out of the apartment and said his goodbyes, and you stood up grabbing your plate and Chan’s empty plate.

“I’m going to do some dishes.”

You headed towards the sink and started running the hot water. The sound of footsteps coming up behind you let you know that Minho had joined you.

“Did you want to wash or dry?” He asked, putting his plates on the counter next to the water.

“I’ll wash,” you said as you handed him a dish towel.

You placed the dishes in the warm water and glanced over at Minho who was leaning against the counter. His warm eyes were locked on you and you couldn’t help but feel slightly warm on the inside. You didn’t understand while suddenly Minho had managed to leave you so confused. After that night you had shared together you had gone out of your way to push away your feelings you had towards Minho, but now you didn’t know how you felt.

Before that night that led to you falling into bed with him you were practically in love with Lee Minho, but you always assumed that he never would return the same feelings. The fact that Chan said Minho did like you and still did was insane to you.

“Why do you seem so lost in your own thoughts?” Minho asked as you handed him a wet plate. You contemplated lying and telling him you were just thinking about some assignment that you had at work, but you knew that you and Minho needed to have a talk about what was going on.

“Chan told me something that has me pretty confused.”

He reached up and put the dry plate in the cupboard and said, “what did he say?”

“He said I wasn’t just a rebound,” you said with your voice shaking because you were still unsure if you should even bring up what Chan had told you.

He paused and stared at you with his lips slightly parted. He swallowed before saying, “you weren’t.”

You put the plate you had been washing back and turned so you were fully facing him. Your heart felt like it was suddenly racing and your stomach felt like it was in knots. All the oxygen felt like it was suddenly sucked out of the room as you both just stared at each other for a long moment.

“What does that mean?” You asked softly.

“You weren’t just a rebound. I didn’t have sex with you just to get over Ara. I called you that night because when Ara and I broke up I realized that you were the only person I wanted to see. I could have called Changbin or Chan to go out, but I didn’t want to see them. I wanted to see you. I remembered that day like it was yesterday. I remember how pretty you looked that night and how sweet my name sounded passing your lips.”

Suddenly this whole thing didn’t feel real between you. You took a deep breath trying to figure out what you should even say to him.

“Did you have feelings for me that night?” You need to know if you let something that could have been great slip through your fingers.

Slowly he nodded, “I don’t think I actually stopped having feelings for you.” Your eyes went wide and stepped away from him. You didn’t actually expect him to confess what Chan had told you.

“I have a date with Jisung, and I think what I have with him could be a really good thing,” you said.

Minho couldn’t help the stabbing feeling in his chest at you bringing up your date with Jisung. He knew that Jisung was a great guy and that he couldn’t get in the way of you going on a date with someone you really liked.

“Doll I’m not going to stand in the way of you and Jisung, but you asked if you were a rebound and I can’t lie to you. I’m always going to be honest with you, even if you don’t want to hear the whole truth,” he took a step towards you.

“Maybe you should've lied to me.” Deep down inside you didn’t want him to lie to you, but if he didn’t you wouldn’t be left asking yourself if you still had feelings for him. “I think we need to take a break from seeing each other. I really want things to work out with Jisung, and I can't have you leaving me confused.”

“Okay doll, we can take a break from seeing each other. I won’t hang out with the group for a while.”

You shook your head, “no you can hang with them. I’ll take a step back, I have a lot going on at work.”

“Okay,” his voice was sad and you knew that this was all your fault.

“I’m going to head out.”

“Okay (Y/N) I guess I’ll see you later.”

You turned on your heels and walked towards the living room couch and grabbed your purse. You quickly walked out of Chan and Minho’s apartment and the moment the door closed you couldn’t help the tears that slid down your cheek. You had never intended to tell Minho you needed a break from him, but you needed time to yourself to work out what was going on in your head. You also wanted to give Jisung a real chance. He was too great of a guy not to take a chance on him.

-

Standing up from your desk you watched as Jisung walked towards you. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he smiling

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked.

“I am, what time should I be ready?”

“I’ll pick you up at five.”

As you walked home you couldn’t help but be a little nervous about your date.

You arrived home and went straight to your bedroom and attempted to figure out what to wear. You had shed away your work clothes and stood in front of your closet in nothing but your bra and panties. You settled on a navy dress that had a zipper in the back. You were able to struggle a little and get it pulled up on your own. You grabbed a pair of navy pointed flats and slipped them on.

Walking over to your mirror you smiled having one of those rare moments where you really liked what you were seeing.

Walking into the bathroom you plugged in your curling iron and while it heated up you brushed out your hair. You took your time curling your hair and when you finished you touched up your make up you had worn to work. By the time you finished getting ready Jisung was going to be at your apartment in five minutes.

You head off to the kitchen to get a glass of water while you wait. This was part of your attempts to calm your nerves. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous but you couldn’t seem to shake your nerves. The sound of someone knocking on your door caught your attention. You sat the glass down in the sink and walked over to the answer door.

Opening the door you found Jisung standing on the other side. He wore a sweater that showed off his toned body.

“You look really pretty,” his sweet comment caused you to blush.

“Thank you,” you reached over and grabbed your purse that was next to the front door.

He laced his fingers with yours and led you out of your apartment building. Hand in hand you walked down the busy streets together. Jisung hadn’t told you what he planned at all for your date. He led you into a cute place away from the busy streets. He told you they had the best chocolate cream pie that you had to try. As you sat in a booth together talking about your work week as you waited for your dinner to arrive.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take you to a fancy place,” he said.

You couldn’t ever actually picture going to a fancy restaurant with Jisung. He didn’t seem like that type of guy who liked over priced food and you couldn’t lie that was something you liked about him.

“Jisung, you and I both know I’m not the type of girl who likes fancy restaurants. I would much rather come somewhere like here and end my meal with some amazing pie,” you let out a soft laugh.

Jisung nodded his head in agreement and smiled.

Jisung knew you well and you were happy to call him your friend.

As your food arrived you both ate and continued to make small talk. The moment you finished eating you reminded him that he owed you chocolate cream pie.

Jisung flagged down the waitress and ordered you both a slice of pie. As the waitress sat the pie down in front of you, you glanced up at Jisung and said, “I hope you didn’t get my hopes up about this pie.”

He leaned forward on the table resting his elbows on the table and said, “I’ll never get your hopes up. Especially when it comes to pie.”

You bit back a smile as you dug your fork into the pie. As the pie hit your taste buds you felt like you had just tasted heaven. You felt like you could have moaned because it tasted so amazing.

“I can see you like the pie,” he said between bites.

“It’s amazing,” you said before taking another bite of pie.

“So what do you have next Mr. Han?” You asked.

“I was thinking about a sunset boat ride in the river by the park.”

“I love that idea.”

The waitress came by and Jisung paid the bill before taking your hand and leading you off towards the park. Hand in hand you walked through the beautiful park. Jisung walked over and rented you guys a boat. He helped you into the boat and then hopped in sitting across from you.

He rowed the boat out into the middle of the water and stopped rowing for a moment.

“I’ve never had anyone take me out on a date like this,” you thought back to the very few dates you had gone on and none of those dates had ever been like this one.

“You’re dating the wrong men then,” he stated proudly.

“I don’t really date exactly,” you thought back to your not very active dating life.

“What do you mean you don’t exactly date?” he seemed confused by your statement.

“I’ve always been so wrapped up in work and I don’t really have men falling at my feet,” you looked down at your feet feeling slightly embarrassed. “What about you? Who have you dated in the past?” You know you probably shouldn’t be talking about exes on your first date but you were curious.

“I’ve been single for about a year and half. I was super serious with this girl. I thought she was the one. I planned on doing the whole wedding and kids thing with her, but her job was having her transfer to Malaysia and I couldn’t go with her. I couldn’t give up my career for her.”

“I didn’t know that,” you said softly.

“I don’t talk about her really. It was hard to move on after that break up. She was one of the first girls I had ever loved.”

You went quiet and you weren’t even sure what to say to him. You weren’t exactly sure why hearing him talk about his ex suddenly made you think about Minho. You felt sick to your stomach and your head was spinning. You didn’t understand the feelings you had for him.

Your eyes were trained on your thighs.

Jisung must have sensed something was wrong because he reached forward and rested his hand on your thigh. “Why are you shutting down on me?” he asked.

“I’m just thinking about someone,” you couldn’t lie to him.

“Do you want to talk about them? I just opened up to you about my ex.”

Biting your bottom lip you wondered how you would even explain your relationship with Minho.

“I’m not gonna judge you,” Jisung’s words were kind.

“I had this thing with this guy. I guess it wasn’t really a thing, it was more I had a crush on him and we were friends. We slept together a couple years back and then I freaked out because he had just broken up with his long term girlfriend. I thought I was a rebound and told him we could never talk about it again. Things have just been weird because he wants to work on making things between us normal again. It just messed with my head,” you sighed as you finished rambling.

“(Y/N) it sounds like you’re in love with the guy,” he gave you a kind smile. It wasn’t his normal flirty smirk.

You hadn’t even ever thought of the possibility of being in love with Minho. You didn’t even understand what you were even feeling.

“I don’t think so.”

“Who is the lucky guy,” he reached over and grabbed your hand.

You closed your eyes fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. You didn’t understand why this conversation was making you so emotional. “It’s Minho. I’m sorry I managed to ruin our date,” you sighed.

“(Y/N) you aren’t ruining the date.”

Jisung was such an amazing guy and you felt like you had just ruined whatever could have been between you.

“I feel like I did ruin everything.”

“(Y/N) I like you a lot, but I’m completely fine with us just being friends, if you think you want to be with Minho. If he’s got your attention he must be a great guy.” He started rowing the boat to shore.

“Jisung, you are such an amazing guy.”

“Hey don’t sound like you’re losing me. I’m always going to be your friend and be there if you need me for anything. I’m also going to be the person who keeps you sane at work and brings you your favorite lattes.”

“Thank you.”

Jisung pulled the boat onto shore. He took your hand once again and walked you through the park. Things felt different between you and Jisung but you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Jisung, being the gentleman he was, walked you back to your apartment.

You stood in front of your apartment door holding Jisung’s hand. He leaned forward and gently kissed the side of your mouth. You couldn’t help but think this was what could have been. “Goodnight (Y/N),” he said.

“I’m sorry Jisung,” you wanted him to know that you were sorry you ruined such an amazing night.

“There is nothing to be sorry about. You should talk to Minho though. I think he might return your feelings.”

“Thank you for an amazing night,” you sigh.

“Talk to this guy (Y/N). Then on Monday I’ll bring you your latte and you could tell me I was right,” he gave you that smirk again.

“Okay I will.”

You walked into your apartment and laid on your bed still dressed. You were lost in your head. You weren’t even sure what you should do. You knew you should go to sleep but you couldn’t.

Looking over at your clock on your night stand you saw a few hours had passed and you weren’t anywhere near tired. You knew you needed to talk to Minho and you weren’t sure you could wait. Getting out of bed you put your shoes on and left your apartment without even thinking. You weren’t going to be able to sleep until you talked to Minho and you knew that. Luckily Minho’s apartment wasn’t far from yours.

You walked down the hallway trying to remain calm. Everything in your brain was screaming at you to turn around and just go home. You didn’t need to be having this conversation after Jisung had told you that you were better off as friends.

Standing in front of Minho and Chan’s apartment you were still battling if you should just turn around. With your hand shaking you reached up and knocked on the door. Part of you prayed Chan would answer the door and you could act like you did came looking for Chan at eleven pm on a Friday night.

As the door knob twisted you took a deep breath knowing that you were going to say something that could change things forever. The door opened, revealing Minho standing on the other side in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs.

“(Y/N) what are you doing here?” He asked as he leaned against the door frame.

You paused, staring at him wondering if you should slap him or kiss him.

“You ruined my date,” you finally spoke.

His eyebrows knit together and he stared at you with a look of utter confusion, “how did I ruin your date?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as you leaned your head back for a moment as you attempted to compose yourself. You let out a breath and said, “you have fucked with my head and my feelings so much that Jisung thinks I’m in love with you.”

His eyes narrowed on you and his head slightly tilted to the side as he attempted to process what you had just said to him. “Jisung thinks you’re in love with me?”

“Can we please not have this conversation standing in the hallway with you in your underwear?” You asked really wishing you didn’t have to have this conversation at all.

He stepped aside and you followed him into his apartment. He walked over and sat down on the couch and you sat down next to him. “So Jisung thinks you’re in love with me?”

You didn’t even bother looking at him, you just nodded your head. Your eyes focus on the coffee table in front of the couch as you wait for whatever he was going to say.

“Are you in love with me?” His voice was low and you could feel his blue eyes burning a hole in you.

“I don’t know,” your eyes started to brim with tears. You hated that this conversation was making you so emotional.

“(Y/N),” his strong hand reached over and rested on your thigh. His touch gave you goosebumps without even trying. Maybe Jisung was right that you had always been in love with the man sitting on the couch next to you.

“Minho what the fuck is going on between us. We went from being super close friends and then we had sex then everything got so weird. I liked you so much when we had sex, but I was nothing more then a rebound.”

“You weren’t a rebound.”

You looked over at him and your heart raced. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“(Y/N) I think I fell in love with you that night, and when you freaked out and told me to act like it never happened. I thought that meant you didn’t like me like that.”

“I freaked out because I thought it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“I thought it was obvious that I liked you,” he reached up and rested his hand on your cheek. You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Do you still like me?” You asked, still nervous.

He smiled, “yeah I still do.”

Without another word he leaned forward and connected his lips to your. His movements were filled with hunger. He kissed you as if he needed you to breathe, and in that moment you were pretty sure you did need him to breathe. Both his hands held your face as he deepened the kiss. He pulled his lips away from you and gripped your soft hips to pull you on to his lap. As you straddled his hips your lips moved together with the same sense of hunger. Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling your body closer to his. His hands gripped your sides as you rubbed your body against his growing erection.

His lips moved across your jaw and he placed gentle nips across the base of your neck.

You bit your bottom lip attempting to hold back a moan. Reaching up you rested your hands on his chest and pushed away from him a little.

“What’s wrong doll?” His voice was filled with want.

“We need talk about this, like this cant just be sex.”

“Baby this is far from just sex. You are the only person that has ever made me jealous. I want us to be something.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his statement. You leaned forward and connected your lips to his for another lust filled kiss.

“Can we please not do this on the couch?” You asked, pulling your lips away from his.

“Let me take you to bed.”

You both stood up and Minho took your hand leading you to his bedroom. Standing at the foot of his bed you took your flats off and stood in front of Minho. He slowly reached for the zipper on the back of your dress. He slid the zipper down and reached up to push your sleeves off your shoulders. Your dress fell in a pool at your feet. You stood in front of him in a pair of cheeky panties and cream colored bra. Your eyes closed as his lips brushed the top of your shoulder.

With his lips brushing your skin he whispered, “I love you.”

Your eyes popped open at his words, “you sure about that?”

“I’m very sure about that.”

His lips moved against the base of your neck as his hands undid the clasp of your bra. A shiver went down your spine in anticipation of what was to come. With both his hands on your shoulders he pushed down the straps of your bra.

He moved so he was standing in front of you. He leaned forward connecting your lips as your lips danced together he reached his hand into your panties and rubbed your sensitive nub. You gasp against his lips at the feeling. Pulling your lips away from his you leaned your head back and moaned.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered.

He led you to his bed. You both shed your underwear and Minho retrieved a foil packet from his nightstand.

As you laid on your back you watched with lust blown eyes as he crawled over you. He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you for a long moment.

“Are you sure you want this?”

“I want this and I want you.”

He slowly slid into you and you couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling. As your body’s moved together your hands gripped his shoulder holding him close. He reached down to pull your leg so it’s resting on his back right above his butt.

His thrust were slow as he rested above your body on his forearms. He buried his face in the side of your neck as he groaned as he thrust into you. With each thrust you feel like your body is electric. Every nerve is a live wire.

“You feel so good,” you moaned.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he murmured with lips against your skin. Your hands grip his back holding onto him tightly. You want nothing more than to touch anywhere on his body you possibly can.

The oxygen felt like it was sucked out of the room as the coil in your stomach tightened. You were getting closer to the edge. “I’m almost there,” you moaned. 

He groans, snapping his hips into yours over and over again. 

“Let go baby,” he pulled his lips away from your neck and looked you in the eyes.

As he pushed you over the edge you said the three words you had been wanting to say to him longer than you would ever be willing to admit. “I love you,” the oxygen rushed back into your lungs and you felt so alive that you had finally admitted how you truly felt.

With a few sloppy thrust he hit his own high. He rested on your body for a moment before he rolled off of you. He laid on back staring at you.

“So you love me?” He asked, smiling.

“I do,” you reached over and laced your fingers with his.

“That’s good because you’re mine now,” he reached over and pulled your body close to his. This was the first night of what you hoped was going to be forever.

@sachifukyo​ @unsweetnedmilk20

[cultleaderyoongi]

Forever And A Day – epilogue | kth

☆ pairing: Taehyung x f. reader

☆ genre: ex2l, slow burn • fluff, angst (not so much in this part)

☆ word count: 3.3k

☆ warnings: mentions of pregnancy, one or two suggestive lines

☆ synopsis: You were never one for romance, let alone for weddings, so you were surprised to say the least when your best friend asked you to be her maid of honor. Little did you know that this journey would become your own road to love.

☆ navigation: moodboard + playlist | pt.1 | extras | pt. 2 | epilogue

☆ a/n: Here we are, folks – the final part. It's been a long ride with this one, and I feel weird now that it's finished, but I'm so happy this was my first series on this site. Thank you so much if you've stuck around since day one despite the long pause in between.

As always, I hope you enjoy reading. If you do – thank you! And feedback is always much welcome. I'll see you on the next journey ♡

☆ taglist: @leafyturtle​ @somewhereofftheglobe @bangtansjonas

​© cultleaderyoongi on tumblr | do not repost or translate on any platform

This was the first time in forever you got to experience an actual winter, the frosty flakes outside dancing in the cold wind, the warm yellow of the living room lights in contrast to the hues of blue and white beyond the barrier of the windows. On top of that served the twinkling reflection of the decor adorned in twirly strokes of glitter, rendering the outdoors in even broader bleakness.

"Everybody!" Joohyun exclaimed, lifting her mug of hot chocolate into the air which was a weird sight to see, you concluded. "I wanna thank you all again for coming, for making the holidays so special and precious as always. We don't get together all that often, even more so lately with everyone settling down in one way or another"–her hand cupped the bump protruding underneath her burgundy knitted sweater–"but I'm glad you could all make it this time again."

Your eyes roamed around the room, the changes that have taken place as another year and a half had passed forcing a smile onto your features. Two expecting parents sitting across from you now, two more happy couples to your left and right – who would have thought? The warmth of the hand latched around yours reminded you of how your own life had turned around for the better.

The host continued, "I hope we still get to do this every year even with all the changes and oncoming challenges. I hold you all very dear to my heart, so I would hate for things to die down once..." A silent whimper escaped her, and then she wept with reckless abandon.

Her husband came straight to the rescue, wrapping her in a comforting hug until she regained composure.

"Sorry, it's the hormones. Damn hormones. Anyway," wiping underneath her tear-stained eyes, Joohyun finished, "you're always in our hearts. Wherever you are in the world. Now, to us and everything that's to come."

Everyone followed lead, repeating her final words and taking sips of their respective drinks.

With the help of Seokjin, she slumped back down onto the armchair, letting out a loud sigh in exhaustion. "So," she addressed you and the man beside you now, "do you have a date yet?"

Taehyung's thumb grazed across the diamond embedded band decorating your ring finger. "No," he answered, "we barely got back from our trip."

You recounted the past weeks in your head, one of Taehyung's work trips to Italy you had accompanied him to. It had been the perfect time to visit with all the festive decorations reaching from the grandest plazas to the tiniest alleyways – truly magical and fitting for a marriage proposal. The memory of Taehyung getting down to one knee during dinner on your hotel room balcony overlooking the scenery of Milan drew a smile on your face.

"Also"–he searched for eye contact with everyone in the room–"we wanted to ask some of you something." The room fell silent in anticipation, only the crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace to be heard. Turning to the male on his right, he finally questioned, "Jimin, would you be my best man?"

The now black-haired dancer watched his friend with wide eyes before he broke out into an equally wide grin. "Y-yeah! Of course, man."

As the two rose from their seats to pull each other into a tight hug, you peeled your eyes from the pair, inspecting the girls instead. "I had a harder time making up my mind, but I hope you guys are happy with my choice." Clearing your throat once, you made eye contact with the female next to the now vacant spot. "Seulgi, would you be my maid of honor?"

Your friend sent you a baffled look, wispy eyelashes fluttering in quick succession. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" Letting out a small laugh, you explained, "It would've made sense asking Joo since I was her maid of honor at that time, but now that you're pregnant"–you turned to your best friend–"you're gonna have bigger tasks to tackle."

The woman in question answered with an affirmative nod, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards.

"It also would've been fair to ask Soo as she didn't get to be maid of honor last time, but with you two moving down south soon"–you turned to Jungkook and his girlfriend to your left–"you're gonna have enough on your plate."

Sooyoung's red-tinted lips curled into an approving smile, resembling that of her older sister's as she nodded her head.

"So," you directed your words at Seulgi again, "what do you say?"

She regarded you with a sheepish grin, cheeks rising into squishy globes. "Yes! I would love to."

You smiled from ear to ear at your friend's response, and as you embraced her, the rest of the girls gathered to engulf the two of you in a group hug.

"This is perfect," Sooyoung cooed, her voice muffled underneath the layers or interlocked limbs. "The next maid of honor and best man are a couple. Maybe we can do the same for your wedding."

As you broke off the hug in unison and returned to your respective seats, Seulgi scoffed at the younger girl's words. "Uh...we're not in a rush at all."

"That didn't look like not in a rush at all if I recall the shocking scene I had to walk in on after the wedding," Hoseok mentioned from the sideline, face scrunched up in slight disgust.

"La la la la la, I don't wanna hear again." Yerim clasped her hands above her ears in an attempt at drowning out the current topic.

You couldn't stifle a laugh at the utter chaos ensuing in the group again. It was endearing to see things had stayed the same over the years even with all the dynamic changes. Granted, it could become a little much at times, but you wouldn't change it for the world. Resting your head on your fiancé's shoulder, you watched your friends in amusement.

"But guys," Jungkook chimed in on the conversation now, "they've been pining on each other forever."

"Thanks, man. At least someone understands." Jimin sent the younger male an appreciative nod, thankful for his attempt at easing the tension.

"Doesn't mean we're gonna cut you some slack though," the former added, finishing off with a fake, evil laugh. "Dude, at a wedding? Come on."

The man in question retracted further into the cushion of the sofa, burying his face in the crook of Seulgi's neck as he flushed a shade of crimson similar to that of his girlfriend's.

"Okay, guys." You had barely paid any attention to Namjoon up until this point, but all eyes were on him now as he spoke. "She's here, so if you could dial down the crazy just a tad bit"–he rose from his seat, shoving his phone into his front pocket as he stalked over to the front door–"that'd be awesome."

"You invited her to the wrong place for that, brother," Yoongi yelled after him, earning a round of laughter from the other males.

"No," Seungwan drawled, "we can be civil. Right, guys?" She mustered the boys with a tight-lipped smile. When she received no answers – evidently to egg her on – she repeated, "Right?"

It was too late for a retort as Namjoon already entered the living room again – this time with his date in tow. "Guys, this is Chanmi," he happily announced. "Chanmi, these are my friends."

"Hi! It's nice to meet you all." The woman next to him sported a polite smile, waving at the group before bending forward into a slight bow.

She was gorgeous, you had a hard time taking your eyes off of her. With her dark, long hair and feline eyes she gave off this mysterious vibe, but her smile told an entirely different story. It read of sheer warmth, awarding her with this overall inviting persona. Her impeccable style caught your eye as well. Although dressed in black from head to toe, a number of accents in the form of golden accessories balanced out her look so expertly, you wanted to kick yourself in the shin at how well put together it was.

"Oh!" Taehyung exclaimed in astonishment, and you would have turned towards him in irritation if it wasn't for the new girl expressing herself in a similar manner as your fiancé.

"Taehyung-ssi!" she replied, mouth formed into an o-shape.

"You know each other?" you and Namjoon pointed out in almost perfect unison, exchanging confused looks between each other.

"Yeah," Chanmi explained, "we've met back in Paris. Same university, same dorms et cetera."

The group let out a round of Ohs and Ahs in acknowledgment whereas you and Namjoon remained in your initial state of perplexity.

"How small the world is," she added, her eyes crinkling at the sides as her smile stretched from ear to ear. "It's been a while."

Your fiancé let out a hum in agreement. "It's really been a while. How have you been?" he inquired, tugging at his earlobe with raised eyebrows. "I didn't know you were back in the country."

With the guidance of her date, Chanmi now settled down onto the couch, legs crossing over one another. "I've been well. Work brought me back here about a year ago."

"Are you also in photography?" Joohyun questioned the new guest with interest.

Shaking her head in denial, she clarified with a beaming grin, "I majored in fashion design."

"How nice," your best friend mused before dedicating her attention back to the slice of cake on her plate.

The sudden change in demeanor almost had you cackling when Chanmi's soft voice sounded again. "How have you been, by the way?" she turned to Taehyung this time. "When did you come back?"

Even though she exuded nothing but friendliness, you subconsciously shuffled closer to him, the grip of your arm around his tightening as if to assert dominance.

"I've been great," your fiancé responded, hand scratching at the back of his head. "I came back like two years ago, did my thing, got engaged"–proudly lifting up your interlocked hands, he finished–"so I've been good."

"Oh, congratulations!" The girl looked back at the two of you, eyes scrunched up as she sent you a genuine smile. "So, you finally found your happy ending."

With confusion evident on your features, you turned to your fiancé in hopes of an explanation. What did she mean by that?

"You know, this guy"–her finger pointed at Taehyung as she directly spoke to you–"was a tough case to crack. Some of our friends were trying to set us up together, but he made it very clear from the get-go that this wasn't going to happen. Later on, I found out that he had a girl at home he was trying to win back."

Watching the man beside you hide a hint of a smile behind his hand, he avoided your stare as his focus shifted heavenward, embarrassment written all over his face.

Chanmi's eyes narrowed in thought, her lips pulled into a thin line. "I'm assuming you're the girl. Otherwise, this is really awkward and I'm very sorry."

You were at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to this piece of information when she beat you to it.

"But you two seem so in tune with each other. There's no way I'm wrong." The girl shot you a wink when your conversation was cut short by her vibrating phone. A tired sigh escaped her. "I just got off work. What do they want from me now?" Excusing herself, she disappeared down the hallway, her tender voice contradicting with the exasperated word spill as she accepted the call.

Once Chanmi was out of sight, Joohyun leaned closer to Namjoon, scarfing down the final bite of her cake. "She's cute – spunky. I like her."

The man in question sported a timid smile, hand coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck.

"What a weird coincidence though," Sooyoung stated nonchalantly. "You"–her finger pointed towards Taehyung–"used to date–"

Your fiancé vigorously waved his hand in front of him. "We went on one date that was set up by our friends, and that was it."

"–and now you"–Sooyoung's outstretched finger switched over to Namjoon–"are dating."

"This is only our third date," Namjoon clarified, lips pulled into a tight line. "We're not dating."

"Yet?" Joohyun tested the waters.

The male only shrugged his shoulders.

Granted, if you were in Namjoon's shoes, you wouldn't be sure how to act either. With you and Taehyung having been back together for the past year and a half now, you were able to build up a proper foundation at last by trusting and confiding in each other – and you were beyond happy things went back to the way they were. Hearing from Chanmi how set Taehyung had been on you from the start solidified that. The realization made you instantly more relaxed.

"Hyung," the low growl of Taehyung's voice resonated again, his eyes resting on Namjoon, "I don't want this to be awkward in any way. Please don't let that change your mind and give her a chance."

You were somewhat stunned by his response. Sure, the sudden arrival of his old flame – if you could even call her that – was surprising to say the least. Not just for you, but also for Namjoon. Although the two haven't been friends for as long as you and Namjoon have, your heart soared at your lover trying to relieve the tension for him.

"Yeah no," the older male chuckled, "it's only awkward if you make it awkward. That was like what? Five years ago? Don't worry about it." He waved a hand in dismissal. "It's not like we haven't had our fair share of bizarre bondings in the group before."

Chuckles went around the room in awareness.

"Speaking of which," Hoseok piped, "don't forget we have names to draw. Four hours left until the countdown."

Seungwan let out a guttural groan at that. "Can we drop it this time around? Maybe it was fun while it lasted, but not now when the options are so limited." She drew a circle in the air with her outstretched hand, motioning towards Hoseok and Yoongi whose offended grimaces had everyone in giggles.

"I still think it's a weird tradition," your fiancé noted to no one in particular though his eyes were locked onto yours. When you granted him a grin in agreement, he planted a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"What's a weird tradition?" Chanmi returned from her phone call, plopping back down onto the couch next to Namjoon.

As her date relayed the rules to her, you leaned into the man beside you. "A girl at home, hm?" you teased him, a pleased smirk unable to scratch off your face.

"Shut up," Taehyung bantered back, a breathy chuckle passing his lips. "You're my girl now." Planting another peck on your cheek, he added, "And soon, you're gonna be my wife."

You were about to return the gesture when Chanmi's light laughter filled the air. "That is a weird tradition. I'm sure you're all lovely, but I don't think I can commit just yet."

"Good thing you're here with a date then," Jungkook reminded her with a click of his tongue and a finger gun, referring to the man beside her.

As soon as the pair stole glances at each other, they turned away again just as fast with flushed cheeks and meek smirks.

For the remainder of the night, you reminisced on old times, recounting endless stories – good and bad – to Chanmi who, in turn, had just as many to tell. It was easy taking a liking to her despite your initial minimal moment of shock. She turned out a perfect fit for the group, you concluded, and from what you could tell Namjoon was more than fond of her as well. Watching the two of them exchange small tidbits of affection here and there had you beaming a bright grin. You were glad to see your friend finally mingle.

"Ah, Taehyung-ssi," Chanmi turned to you and your fiancé again, "have you heard Seojoon opened his own bar?"

Taehyung hummed in affirmation, setting his glass down onto the table. "We actually went down to Rome for a couple days during my work trip to visit him."

"Oh, that's nice," she mused, her eyes set on you. "Was this your first time visiting Europe?"

You replied with a nod of your head.

"How'd you like it?"

"It was beautiful. Just as I imagined." A smile underlined your words. "I almost didn't wanna leave."

Chanmi let out a light chuckle at your response. "It does have that effect. I had a hard time leaving, too." Taking a sip of her champagne, she continued, "Could you imagine living there?"

Her question caught you a little off-guard. Having only been there once so far, you had fallen for its charm. It wasn't like you and Taehyung had discussed it in great detail, but you had brought it up in conversation here and there.

Looking over at Taehyung, you cleared your throat. "Maybe at some point, but–"

"Wait, what?" Joohyun screeched at an alarming volume. She mustered you with puppy eyes before breaking out into tears. "Not you, too!"

Everyone was stunned at her sudden outburst, sitting in silence except for Seokjin who made quick move of consoling his emotional wife. It wasn't until he offered her another slice of cake – to which she fended Make it two. I'm eating for two now – that she finally regained composure.

"Joo," you tended to your best friend now, "it was just an idea for the future. Nothing's gonna happen anytime soon."

"Exactly," your fiancé added. "You have nothing to worry about. We'll be here to annoy you for a lot longer." He finished off by flaunting her a mischievous smirk.

The woman scoffed in reply, but you could tell she was pleased with the answer. "Fine. Just don't be a stranger, okay?" Her eyes lingered on Taehyung, the space in between her brows creasing in concern. "The both of you."

You resorted to sending her a solemn nod.

It wasn't too long until the clock almost struck midnight. Looking around the space, your heart warmed at the sight, similar to the flame burning away in the fireplace. Soon, new life would be born. Soon, new love would bloom. And soon, you would marry the love of your life.

"What are you thinking about?" your husband-to-be inquired, resting his forehead onto yours as his arms wrapped around your waist.

A hum resonated from you in response. "Nothing in particular. Just about how happy I am." With a small smile stretched across your lips, you explained further, "And also about how tired I'm getting."

"Yeah, it's been fun, but I can't wait for bed." Cupping your cheek, he placed a chaste kiss on your lips. "And also get some alone time with you before that."

You chuckled at the insinuation behind his words, chasing another peck with puckered lips. "Not tired enough then?"

"I'm always awake enough for some alone time with you," he spoke in his low gravel, drawing out another amused laugh from you.

"Alright, hotshot. We'll see about that once we get home."

Pulling you closer by the hips, he engulfed you in another heartfelt kiss as if to seal the deal.

"Ah! Children present," Yerim's shrieky voice interrupted you as she thrusted your filled-up flutes of champagne into your hands. "Save it for later."

"You're barely a child," Yoongi teased the younger girl, earning a stuck-out tongue from her.

"Okay guys," Seungwan piped, "here we go. Ten!"

"Nine!" everyone started counting down in unison. "Eight! Seven!"

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you whispered into Taehyung's ear. "I love you."

"Six! Five!"

As his hand cradled your face, he murmured back, "I love you, too. Forever and a day."

"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

"My future Mrs. Kim."

[toomanyfandoms02]

The Gala -- JJ Maybank (Part 2 of 2)

Summary - JJ loves to pretend he is someone else, so going to a gala and pretending to get engaged ( for free drinks of course ) is just his speed

Word Count - 1.5k

My favorite half of this mini series :)

SEND ME JJ REQUESTS!! If you look up 'prompts' or 'dialogue' in my search bar it can give you some ideas!! I need some :)

Once we pulled up I saw a few valet drivers standing at the front of the huge building.

"Won't, this place is ridiculous." I gasped, looking at the white palace-looking place.

"I know, can't wait to cause a small ruckus." He rubbed his hands together and I shook my head at him.

"Okay, JJ, you gotta keep it together, we are in figure 8 and we are 21. The slightest bit of maturity is needed at least until we are inside." He nodded enthusiastically at me, putting on a serious face. I pulled up to the valet service and just as I went to open my door JJ told me to stay inside. I furrowed my eyebrows at him as he took the keys and handed them to the driver.

"Just a sec, I've gotta get the door for my lady." The driver nodded with a smile. He came to my side and opened the door politely, grabbing my hand and helping me out.

"Thank you, love." I said, grabbing his hand and waving to the drivers as we made our way to the door.

"Hello there, name please?" The usher asked with a smile.

"Y/n Y/L/N and JJ Maybank. We are friends with Georges's cousin, he invited us." JJ lied confidently, pulling an invitation from his pocket.

I wonder where he got that, who knows with him.

"Alright, IDs?" He asked. I pulled mine from my course and handed it to him, JJ doing the same. He gave them a little once over and opened the door. "Enjoy your night." Once we were inside I turned to him.

"Where did you get that invitation?" I chuckled.

"Some kooks doorstep." He shrugged, handing it to me.

"Wow, they're really setting it up so anyone could take it and use it. No specific name on it or anything."

"Exactly. Wanna dance?" He asked, presenting his hand to me.

"Yes please!" I said as he dragged me to the group of people dancing on the tile floor. We danced to the fun upbeat songs for a while before there was a slow song.

"You wanna keep dancing or go get a drink?" He asked quietly.

"I need a breather, a slow dance shouldn't be too bad. Gotta keep up the couple facadé, right?" I said, putting my arms around his neck. He nodded in agreement, putting his hands on my waist. I laid my head on his chest and he rested his chin on my head.

"This is fun." He whispered, swaying with me. "We should do this more often."

"You can dance with me whenever you want JJ, we just happen to be in a very public place right now."

"I wanna dance with you anywhere, all the time." I smiled down at him and I could feel my face heating up for the second time that day, so I buried my face in his chest again.

"Let's get some drinks." I said as the song ended. I held his hand and pulled him to the bar. I slid some money on the counter. "Can I have a shot of tequila please?" I smiled at the bartender and she nodded. JJ scooted his stool closer to mine, putting his arm around me. It's like he *knew* he was making me flustered.

"Here you go, ma'am. Anything for you sir?" She turned to JJ.

"I'll have the same." She nodded and poured him one. I threw the shot back and put the shot glass on the table.

"Can I also get a shot of whiskey?" I smiled politely, JJ tilting his head at me.

"Of course." She poured me the shot. "Would you like a chaser? Some water?" She asked before I drank it. I nodded thankfully. She set a glass of water in front of me. I turned to JJ with a smile, hiding the shit glass.

"On three?"

"On three." He said back.

"One, two, three." We both took a shot and my face scrunched at the horrible burn and taste. I quickly chugged the water. JJ laughed at my dramatics.

"You alright there dear?" He asked teasingly, resting his hand on my thigh. I nodded enthusiastically.

"I am a-okay! But I *do* need to pee, so I'll be right back." I replied, sliding away from his grasp and heading to the bathroom. I went in and stood at the sink for a moment.

"Get ahold of yourself! It's a little game, none of this is real." I splashed some water on my face, realizing that I was in fact buzzed. I slapped my cheeks lightly a few times before going back out to the party. Just as I walked out I saw a girl sitting in my seat, clearly flirting with JJ. He looked *severely* disinterested. I felt a little out of control of my emotions and actions at the moment so I just let it play out.

I made my way back over to JJ, giving him a look. He gave me a 'help me' look as I walked towards him. I winked and sent him finger guns. I came up quite fast, making my way into JJ's lap, he wrapped his arms around me immediately.

"Hey, baby, who's this?" I tilted my head at her.

"I think she said her name was Tracy?" He said.

"It's Talia." He said with a slight mean mug. I felt JJ shrug behind me.

"I was just wondering where my girl went." He said against my ear, kissing the edge of it. I would have melted right then and there if I wasn't buzzed. Talia scoffed and left *my* seat, which caused JJ to laugh, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"She would not leave me alone. I mentioned you like 4 times." He shook his head. I shifted on his lap a little.

"Is that a box in your pocket or are you just happy to see me." I teased.

"Oh, I'm definitely happy to see you." He shot back confidently. "Speaking of, you think this is a good time for a proposal? Or should I do it during a slow dance on the dance floor?"

"Oh slow dance for sure. We want as many people to see you propose so we get free drinks." I giggled, kissing his rosy cheek. Conveniently, a slow song began to play.

"Can I have this dance?" He asked in a horrible British accent.

"Yes sir." I replied in a just as bad accent, standing from his lap and taking him to the dance floor. I put my arms back around his neck and his hands returned to my waist. We danced for about 30 seconds before he let go of me and nodded, I nodded back. He pulled the box from his pocket and got down on one knee. A girl dancing beside us gasped, hitting her husband's shoulder and pointing to us.

"Y/n, you are the light of my life. I've been in love with you for 2 years now and I don't think I could ever live without you. I've never had someone make me so happy, or laugh all day long. I can't even be in a bad mood around you, it's impossible. Your smile lights up my whole day, maybe even my whole week. Just when I think you couldn't get any better you do. I'm really, *really* in love with you." I furrowed my eyebrows at him and he gave a slight nod.

Wait.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Maybank?" He asked with a wink. I nodded slowly, and gave him my left hand, he slipped on the ring. I intertwined our hands.

"*Really* really?" I asked quietly, so no one could hear. He nodded nervously, avoiding my eyes. "Sweet." I smiled, pulling his face to mine and kissing him passionately.

He pulled me closer by my waist, still kissing me. I could feel him smile against my lips.

"Congratulations." I heard the woman next to us say. I thanked her and we got a slew of congrats from the room. Soon enough we were getting free drinks left and right. We sat at the bar and just took them.

"Is this why you wanted to do this?" I asked, taking a sip of my Margarita.

"To confess to you? Yeah, had to be something special. Plus, if you rejected me I could chalk it up to the game." He shrugged. "Foolproof."

"Lucky for you, I've been wrapped around your finger since we met Maybanks." I smiled, putting my hand on his cheek and rubbing my thumb across his face. He leaned in and kissed me again, tasting like alcohol.

"Same to you, Mrs. Maybank." He teased, poking the ring on my finger.

"We can be like this all the time now, right? I can call you love and you can call me the light of your life?" He nodded.

"And I can kiss you all the time now, right? Because I've been wanting to for years, I've gotta catch up." JJ pulled me closer by the stool I was sitting on, nearly making me fall but he steadied me.

"Absolutely." I replied, putting my forehead to his. We number noses a bit and he smirked.

"Perfect."

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes.  You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor.  You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market.  Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared.  You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving.  I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault.  He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say.  All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm.  “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness.  If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince.  You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince.  Then you had gone to assist Korenna.  You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees.  She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n.  Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit.  The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side.  It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug.  “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold.  You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested.  His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city.  And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.”  His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens.  “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace.  What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you.  “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king.  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge.  They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back.  It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up.  Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable.  She stood staring at you for a few  seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply.  You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door.  Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence.  He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous.  You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature.  But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately.  You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe.  So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest.  It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance.  You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know.  I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended.  He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party.  You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats  |  Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests.  His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat.  The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide.  He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side.  He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with.  You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know.  His mother just died.”

Great.  Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone.  His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.”  You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent.  Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for.  “I’m a coward.  I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you.  You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know.  You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion.  You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity.  You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him.  He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck.  Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back.  This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time.  You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again.  Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch.  You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.”  The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks.  He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold.  I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires.  So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl.  And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea.  But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt.  In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials.  Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow.  But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests.  You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame.  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted.  “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n.  I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head.  “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods.  You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say.  He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman.  She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face.  You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really?  And who taught you about archery, Y/n?”  You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional.  Where is your father now?  I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied.  “It was a long time ago.  You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead.  A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown.  But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day.  You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove.  “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan.  I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest.  You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point.  “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness.  I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed.  “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone.  Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince.   He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath.  You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals.  You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone.  You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from.  As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down.  Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence.  You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today.  Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin!  Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree.  Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them.  Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing.  But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree.  But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals.  Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline.  You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there?  You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder.  “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me?  Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety.  I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line.  “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good.  Go.  And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince.  Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men.  The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n!  Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms.  The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here.  Just hold on please.  You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots  |  Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders.  The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended.  Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling.  Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man.  He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.  The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest.  A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand.  Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice.  She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n.  This is my son Christopher, the prince.  You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince.  He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet.  But it’s going to be your job to help him become one.  Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly.  “My name’s Chris.  Or Chan.  Either’s fine!  I brought you these flowers!  I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely.  “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

[cheeky-kookie]

Overruled | KTH

Taehyung/Reader | Angst, Slow Burn, Royal!AU | Prince!Taehyung x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12.4K

Summary: You always knew that you were viewed nothing more than an asset when it came to the heart of men. The luxury of meeting someone who saw you for you almost didn’t exist. It just took your whole life being ripped apart to find yourself lucky enough to come across one.

Warnings: Language | Violence | Blood | Imprisonment | Mentions of Death | Non-Main-Character Deaths | Taehyung Risking It For The Biscuit |

AN: This took me forever but thank you guys for sticking with me and waiting for it! I have so many ideas and just not enough time! Keep your eye out for the others I have coming.

Tonight, like many other nights, you sat at the main area with your father. Your eyes wandered the crowd gracing the ball floor. It was a mess of gowns and bodies spinning and turning to the time of the music. It was the same thing every time one of these was hosted. You watched as the nobles enjoyed themselves and drank until there was no care left for them in this world.

If you looked closer within the mass of fabric swirling in front of you, you can see the smiling faces of the ladies as they were enthralled with the idea that the handsome men spinning them on the floor wanted to dance with them. Every one of the couples synchronized with not only the music but with the others as well. All weaving around each other with ease.

This event, like the others, was only for the nobles and other royalties to butter up to your father and win his good graces. They wanted that slim chance to marry you, for that matter. If they win you, they win the crown and unite their kingdom with yours.

Your eyes landed on a man, whom you recognized as one for the princes from the neighboring kingdom. You had only met him once before in passing, but you had to be good with faces. He was making his way through the crowd of people, in the direction of where you sat. Once in front of you, he bowed to both you and your father.

“May I ask the fine lady to dance?” He asked, offering his hand out to you, though you weren’t entirely sure if he was asking you or your father.

A curt nod from your father made your decision for you. You stood, returning his bow with your own, “I would be honored.”

Taking his hand with your own, he led the way onto the floor. Turning you in his direction, he placed his other hand on your waist. Soon, both of you were in sync with the others letting the music guide your movements.

In the many years you had been alive and the many dances you had to endure, you realized no one liked to actually talk. You were nothing to these men who ask for your hand and drag you around the floor. To them, you were a transaction. You were just one step of a bigger picture. Nothing more than an item looking to be sold to the highest bidder.

You didn’t blame your father. He didn’t like doing this to you. It was just how it had to be.  

So, you stayed quiet keeping his eye contact as he led you around the floor. You felt many eyes on you as you two spun throughout the crowd, not needing to look to confirm whether they were really. Your movement was always watched whether it be from your people or the lady-in-waiting who does your bidding whenever you call. You held the smile on your face so the eyes watching would think you were having a wonderful time, and maybe if you smiled enough you could will the idea into existence.

Oh, how you wished it were willed into existence.

A large bang was heard loud enough to be heard over the sound of music and the chatter of socializing. You stumbled as the man directing you halted with no warning. The music slowly dwindled to nothing as each person playing grew curious of the sound. The sound of people talking and whispering amplified by the newfound silence.

Another loud bang.

This time, you felt your heart rate raise a little as you watched as your father motioned to a knight near him and spoke to him as few knights slipped out of the many doors in the room. The man next to you seeming more alert than before though you were more preoccupied with the look in your father’s eyes. He looked put together but his eyes held the one thing you never thought you’d see in them. Fear.

A third one.

With the sound of that one, the room fell into chaos. The doors flung open, splinters and chunks of wood scattering into the air from the brute force of the entry. Unknown figures entered through the destruction armed and ready to attack any and all.

You watched as the men that were attending the ball unsheathed their weapons and jumped into the mess of intruders to help the many knights who have been overwhelmed. The man whom you had been dancing with had left you alone amongst the scared guests.

The whole room was filled with the clanking of metal and yelling, but it was drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat as your adrenaline took over. You realized you were in the open and maneuvered your way toward one of the many columns scatter throughout the room. Once behind it and in cover, you let out a shaky breath you had no idea you had been holding.

You peaked around the pillar; your eyes scanned the room for your father. You noticed him on his feet, fighting against some man who you assumed had entered with the intruders. Deciding to try to make it to him, you searched the rest of the room.

Your eyes only met destruction and bodies; some being the enemy and some your own people. Your eyes even found the image of a small child crying into the chest of his mother who laid on the floor covered in her own blood and unmoving. You leaned your head back against the pillar trying to erase the image to no avail.

With an uneasy breath, you started to head toward your father. You eyed the hand of a dead body as you moved through the chaos, grabbing the dagger from his lifeless fingertips. Once in hand you grasped the hilt, not noticing your knuckles turning a shade of white from the amount of force you gripped it with.

You took a step backwards to avoid a scuffle that was coming from your left, causing you to trip over some debris. You kicked yourself back against the wall as you tried to avoid being the next person lying on the ground in a pool of their own blood. The knight fought against the other man, neither aware you were even there.

You stood back up looking for your father once again. You found him mid fight with the same intruder as before. Closer now, he noticed you were still in the room. He locked eyes with you, which seemed to be all the distraction the other man needed. The blade was shoved dead in the middle of the king’s chest and his eyes grew wide and he grasped at the sword. Once out of his chest, your father fell to his knees and then to the ground.

Your whole world shifted as you felt the sting of tears threatening to blur your vision. Amongst the terrified screams and fighting, your own gut-wrenching scream could barely be heard. Instead of falling to your own knees like you wished you could, you fought against the feeling of your lungs collapsing as you gasped for air; having it knocked out of you from the metaphorical blow.

You started to make your way toward his body when multiple of the heavily armor-clad trespassers noticed you. You couldn’t hear what the one yelled over your still coursing heartbreak, but they started moving in on you. That’s when you took one final look at your father and ran.

You hopped over the heaps of bodies that now scattered the room and ran out one of the broken doors, barely avoiding the swing of a blade that ran astray from a battle you pasted by. Once out of the main room, you found the fight was still going on in the halls as well.

You desperately looked for a way to escape. Deciding the left was arguably safer, you hurried down the corridor. You rounded the corner, knowing there was a passage a few halls further that exited out into the garden where you could hopefully find shelter. You felt two hands grab you and you weren’t entirely sure if he had come from in front of you or behind. Pinned to the wall, you tried fighting him off. You shook your arm free and, with dagger still in hand, you thrusted it between his helmet and chest plate. His eyes grew wide as he released you, choking on his own blood.

You stood frozen, eyes looking between the man now on the floor gasping for air and your own hand now soaked in red. Just as quick as you froze, you were brought back into reality. You switched the blade into your other hand as you wiped the blood off your hand onto your dress which had already been ruined.

It felt like hours before you made it to the passage that lead outside but, it had only been mere minutes. Opening the door, you sucked in a breath of fresh air; something you felt you had been deprived of for too long. You leaned against the now closed door. The newfound silence only broken by your staggered breathing and the sound of your kingdom aflame in the distance.

You heard a conversation in the distance, it not being loud enough to understand. You hoped the dark of night would conceal you from those who you didn’t want to see you. Your breath hitched as you heard the voices come nearer. You had gotten so far, and it wouldn’t mean anything if you were caught. You decided to risk it.

You ran for the hedges, hearing the men now hurrying toward you. You were almost to shelter. Almost. But your foot landed on an uneven patch of ground, causing your ankle to twist and you to tumble down to the ground. On impact, the dagger flew from your hand. You searched the ground for it, but it was too late.

You felt your heart leave your chest as two men grabbed your arms pulling you up from the ground. Kicking, you tried fighting against them, but their strength was too much for you. You didn’t give up, even if it was a useless task.

You were pulled back into the building, which was oddly quiet. It only confirmed the worst, that your kingdom had now fallen. You assumed whoever wasn’t dead was taken as prisoner. The halls became familiar as they tracked back the way you came to the grand chamber.

Once there, your eyes landed on the mass of bodies being moved into a pile at the end of the room. Then they found your own father’s. He was surrounded by a few men, one obviously the king of the intruders and the other, you could only see the back of.

“Your majesty, we found her fleeing. If I’m not mistaken, this is indeed the princess.” One of the men holding you hostage announced.

but to disgrace your father and irritate you. Angered, you demanded they let you go and continued to do so, hoping annoying the poor men would work.

“What would you like us to do with her, sir?” The other asked.

“Shut her up, will you?” He asked, exhaustion dripping from his voice.

You saw the man next to you raise the hilt of his sword and swing it down at you. You couldn’t say what happened next because you in fact had no idea because your whole world went black.

When you woke, you expected to be laying in your bed under your duvet. The hard surface you found yourself laying on was not your bed and it was a rough reminder of the events that took place before you were knocked unconscious.

You opened your eyes being met with the sight of the dirt floor. Pushing yourself up off the ground, you groaned as the pain in your head increased with the new position you now sat in. Your dress was dirty and ripped around the bottom. You weren’t sure if it happened while you were running or when they dragged your unconscious body to where it is now. You noticed the blood you wiped off your hands had darkened as it dried into the fabric of the skirt.

Slightly disoriented, you looked around trying to focus on anything other than your ruined dress and the pounding of your head. You made out an old wooden bench that probably would fall apart if too much pressure was put onto it. Above that, a small window. There was barely any light flowing through but enough for you to determine that it was early morning. Turning your head the other way, your eyes focused on the metal barring you within the small room.

You pulled yourself onto your feet only to trip from the rush of pressure that went to your head. You gripped the bench and pulled yourself onto it hoping that it wouldn’t buckle from the weight. Once sitting on it you leaned your head against the wall and closed your eyes. Your vision still blurring in and out whenever you concentrated to hard on something, you hoped closing them would relieve some pain.

Your mind flashed back to your last conscious memory. The image of your father on the floor and the man standing over him looking at him like he was just some pest that finally got what was coming to him. And then, you were locked away in your own dungeon. You had never really ventured to the castles personal prison on your own accord, so you had no idea what it looked like until now. The only confirmation that you were still within the walls of your home was the residual smell of smoke from the town that was burning the night before.

Tears ran down your cheeks as you let your body fall sideway until you laid on the bench. You didn’t even try to hide your cries, for no one was around to hear you. The impact of your world exploding seeming to be too much to handle and the only thing your mind knew to do was send droplets out of your eyes and sobs from your chest. The only sound to comfort you being the echo of your own cries in the empty dungeon.

What you noticed while you were in your own personal hell that time seemed to blend together. You seemed to wake and sleep whenever your body wanted you to. The only indication of time you had was the little bit of outside you saw through the window. Even then, you weren’t sure exactly how long you’d been locked up. If you had to guess, you would say you were there for maybe a week at the most. The only interaction you had with anyone was limited to the guards bringing you food. Other than that, it was just you alone with your thoughts.

It gave you time to grieve the loss of your life and what you had always known. You spent the first few days crying, having the only words of wisdom being the guards telling you to shut it whenever they decided it seemed fit to feed you. You cried less, though you felt like the hole in your chest would never be filled. You had never gotten to say goodbye and that broke open healing wounds whenever the thought crossed your mind.

You were sitting, staring at the bars from the bench when you heard someone entering the area. You perked up, confused. This was too close to the last time you were fed; it didn’t seem right.

You watched as a figure found its way in front of your cell. From what you observed, he had no idea you sat a mere few feet away. The lantern he held in his hand lighting what the small window of your cell didn’t reach. The back of him looking oddly familiar, but you knew you had no clue who this was or why they were amongst the prisoners of the castle.

You stood, curious of the man. You studied him as he searched the area, finding an old wooden chair. He kicked it into the corner farthest from the cells before setting the lantern town next to it. He proceeded to then sit in it, resting his hands on his legs. His eyes focused on the ground.

You reached the outer wall of your enclosure, lacing your hand through one of the bars as you peered through it in his direction. He seemed almost as if he was overwhelmed or tired; maybe both.

“You seem down,” You croak out, surprised your voice didn’t fail you. You didn’t think it would fail you because you were afraid but because of its lack of use.

His head slowly lifted, reaching your eyes for the first time since his presence was known. Your breath hitched just from the intensity of his glare. His dark locks fell around his face in waves resting right above his eyes, casting a shadow onto them. His head turned to the side ever so slightly as he examined you from the distance.

“I am,” He spoke; his voice as deep as the glare he still held on you.

For a moment, you let the silence take over. His eyes never broke off of you as his words sunk into your being. It wasn’t much of a reply, but it was a reply. It was more of a response than you’ve gotten within days.

You swallowed trying to wet your throat before speaking again, “I didn’t expect you to respond. No one does.”

His eyes didn’t waver away from you as he took in your words. Another silence set in but now that it had been broken, it seemed so much heavier than before. Part of you wondered what could possibly be going through his mind as he stared so intently in your direction, though you knew better than to ask. So, instead, you waited for a response if there would be one.

“Well, surprise.” He said, leaning back.

He rested his upper half against the back of the wooden chair, his body finding a more relaxed position. Even then, his eyes still held on you. For the first time in days, you wondered what condition you were truly in. You assumed you were full of mud, possibly bloody and bruised. You felt exhausted and you knew your face showed it. Not once did your appearance come to mind, but under his intense stare, it was a passing thought you couldn’t shake.

Still unsure if you had full trust in your voice, you cleared it before hesitantly adding to the very short conversation, “Why are you down?”

He didn’t seem to hear you, or well, he chose not to acknowledge your question because he didn’t attempt to reply. You couldn’t quite blame him for his lack in communication. If the roles had been reversed, and you found yourself on the outside looking in, you probably wouldn’t have even batted an eye in your direction.

You let out a quiet sigh, knowing full well whatever socialization you had been gifted had come to an end. Even so, you were oddly satisfied that someone had given you the time of day. It might have been the bare minimum, but it wasn’t nothing. For that you were grateful.

You pushed yourself off of the bars of the cell, letting your hand drop from the one you were grasping.

“Is that dried blood?”

Shocked from his question, you looked down at where you had wiped the mess that had been on your hands days prior. You had almost forgotten about the stain adhered to the fabric you had been wearing, but without a doubt when you looked back down there it was.

You leaned back forward to look at him through the gaps between the bars. He was still looking in your direction, though his eyes seemed to soften as he waited for a response.

“Yeah,” You let out a shaky breath. Memories of that man pinning you against the wall flooded back to the front of your mind. You felt your w burn as you fought the tears, “Yeah, it’s dried blood.”

Silence fell again, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme within the conversation, though this time you weren’t yearning for it to continue. You looked away from him and blinked, hoping the brimming tears wouldn’t cascade down. It was quiet enough you could make out the sound of faint footsteps getting closer to your own cell. You pushed off the door again, this time actually making it to the only seating within room.

You could tell he too could hear the footsteps. He sighed, standing up from his sitting position. He then gripped the lantern that had been comfortably sitting next to his feet the whole time. Just as he did so, a guard rounded the corner, food in hand. You assumed the food was for you.

A peak out the small window of your cell told you more time had passed that you expected, and that it very may well have been time for them to bring you food.

Taken aback by another figure, the guard halted. The unknown man nodded at him in recognition.

“Ah, we have been searching for you,” The guard announced, “The king is in need of your presence, sir.”

You watched as the gentleness in his eyes he had shown you moments before disappeared, only to be replaced with the same tired look he held when he first sat down in the chair. You felt bad for him even though you were the one imprisoned. You wondered if him wandering the prisoners ward was him escaping whatever thing was wearing him thin.

“I’m always needed,” He sighed but still proceeded to maneuver around the guard before disappearing the way he had come.

The guard shook his head disapprovingly, before sliding the food into the cell with little to no care. He muttered something to himself you couldn’t quit make out from your seat on the bench and then left you on your own.

If you hadn’t lost track of the days before, you had now. It had been a few days, or maybe a week, since you had found yourself in the company of the unknown man. You weren’t entirely sure how long it had truly been because you barely noticed the difference between the warm rays of the day and the soft light of the night.

It was hard to focus with your mind being so numbingly bored. You actually started to look forward to the times they brought you the god-awful slop they fed you. The guards, though not the best conversationalists, still bought a difference into your very dull life. They at least bought something to the table that the dirt floor and the rusted iron bars could never do.

You found yourself mindlessly picking at your fingers. The amount of mud and dirt caking to them had become quite evident and you weren’t exactly fond of the idea. You felt disgusting having been in the same clothes days on end. You had come to the conclusion that you’d be wearing this torn up garment until there was nothing left of it.

You heard the squeaking of a lantern echoing from down the hall. It was late, past the last feeding of the night. The guards should have left you down there to drown in loneliness by now. Your eyes fell on the light making it closer to your cell. Even within the small haze of the lamp, there was no mistaking the eyes of the man approaching. He wore a simple shirt contrasting the more up done one you saw him in the first time. Even late in the night, he looked well put together.

Once in front of your cell, you watched him locate the chair he sat in before. He then proceeded to grab one of the torch sticks, lighting it with the fame of the lantern. He stuck it back on the wall, it lighting not only the hall but the cell you were confined into.

You slowly stood up off your seat, curious as to why he was down here again. Or better yet, you were just curious of who he was. He shot you a passing glance as he then bent back over, grabbing something off the chair. You made your way slowly to the barred off area, peaking through the gaps between them. All you saw was his back and the way his shoulders moved under the fabric concealing them. You felt a wash of familiarity come over you like before, but you would have remembered meeting a face like his.

You quickly adverted your gaze when he turned back around, not wanting to admit you might have been staring at him for a tad too long. He walked forward, hands holding what seemed to me a mass of cloth. He stopped inches in front of the bars, his gaze meeting your eyes. He threaded his arm though the bars, handing you what was in his hands.

“It’s not much,” He paused, releasing it to you, “But I figured it would be better than wearing what you are currently.”

You stood silently, excepting his gift. You were taken slightly aback. You had been attacked, chased, and knocked out. You had been thrown in your own castles dungeon and fed like a dog. You didn’t know what to expect but an act of kindness from anyone wasn’t it.

Hurrying back towards the dimmer end of your cell, you set the clothes down on the bench and examined them. The whiff of clean clothes enticed your senses, making your heart race. It was foolish to be so excited over a clean set of clothes, but you were.

Uncaring to whether you had prying eyes, you began to strip out of your dress. It dropped to the floor, along with all the horrible memories it kept reminding you of. You didn’t care that the white shirt that he gave you was eerily similar to the one he was wearing. You were just glad to be out of the thing now laying in a lump on the floor.

Once in fresh clothes, you walked slowly back to peak through the gaps. He sat in the corner, same position as the first time you saw him; arms resting on his legs and head hanging low. You made the conclusion that most likely didn’t try to steal a glimpse of you changing. You watched him for a moment, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.

“Thank you,” The words come out as almost a squeak, voice being weakened by the lack of use yet again. He lifted his head, eerily similar to the time before yet no intense glare. His eyes were soft, and you were able to see they were a dark brown when not consumed behind the metaphorical mask he wore. He straightened up, running a hand through his dark locks.

“Wish I could have done more,” He said, voice quiet but the silence of the hall amplifying every word that left his lips.

Your heart panged at the kindness being shown for it was a nice change, but the constant state of fear you had come to know gnawed at you like a gnat.

“But why?” Your voice hoarse but you forced the question anyways.

He hummed to himself for a moment, as if contemplating whether he wanted to give you the answer before looking you in the eyes once more, “I wouldn’t want to be wearing someone else’s blood.”

Silence fell between the two of you as you absorbed his words. Your eyes drifted to the dress in the corner before looking back at him. You didn’t know what his reasoning would be, but you never thought it would have been that. You also didn’t expect him to break the comfortable silence, but he seemed full of surprises since you met him.

“What happened?”

You saw the way his eyes caught the refection of the torch fire as the flames danced within them but behind that you saw what you only could decipher as concern, or guilt.

“I was attacked. I did what I had to.” You spoke, his eyes still trained on you.

He nodded in understanding. He then slowly stood up from the chair and reached for the lantern on the ground grabbing that as well. He started to walk towards where he came but stopped in front of the bars of your cell.

He glanced over, “I hope you’re able to get rest.”

The odds of that happening were slim to none, you both knew that. Still, it was another nice gesture that he in no way needed to do, especially to someone who was imprisoned. You wondered why he seemed to be so kind to you, but maybe he was just that. Just as quick as he turned to look at you, he started to leave all the same.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” You ask but it comes out more as a plea. He halted his movements and turned back to you. You watched him turn to look at you once again, this time you watched as one of the corners of his mouth perked up ever so slightly.

“Taehyung.” Was all he responded before both he and the light had disappeared down the hall.

Part of you, almost all of you, wanted something to grasp onto, even if it was just a name.

Fresh air.

The concept seemed so foreign to you now. You were used to the damp and the musk by now, but your mind traveled to that night where everything went downhill. You remembered the fresh air you had inhaled and the slight smell of roses that had engulfed the night.

So, there you were on the tips of your toes leaning dangerously close to the edge of the bench. Your fingers grasped the edge of the small, barred window of your cell. You had been hoping to possibly get a breath of fresh air from the open window.

Somehow, you had propped yourself up enough to barely see out of it. You were surprised to find that your window was located by the very garden you had been fantasizing about. Honestly, you were surprised at yourself for not trying this sooner. Seeing any color other than the brown walls of the dungeon was welcoming enough.

You felt the suns rays hit your face and you closed your eyes in satisfaction. You felt a cool breeze kiss your face and the smell of roses wafted in your direction. You sighed in content, just happy to feel something from the outside world once again.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice broke the silence you were enjoying, scaring you. Your grip on the ledge failed as you tried not to stumble off the edge of the bench. You fell onto the dirt floor despite your attempts not to.

You sat up slowly and turned to the source of the voice. Your voice dry as you responded, “I miss outside, Taehyung.”

You had grown accustomed to his sporadic visits. Ever since he had bought you a change of clothes, he seemed to show up more often though it was never for long. You noticed that he was not much of a conversationalist, but you believed that to be because he always seemed to have something on his mind distracting him. You could see it in the way his eyes never felt they were in the present moment.

He looked away avoiding your glance, “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

The room grew quiet as you watched him walk towards the seat he had claimed as his own. He seemed a little more dressed up than the past few times he had decided to grace you with his presence. His hair though, still fell across his face in waves of black.

You pulled yourself off the floor and walked towards him, leaning against the metal to look at him better, “You always seem so distracted.”

He looked up from his hands and bit the inside of his cheek. He looked as though whatever was on his mind was on the tip of his tongue and he was biting it right back down. He directed his attention down the hall and away from you and your observation. He obviously having no intentions of responding to your statement.

You dropped to the ground, sitting with your legs crossed, “I didn’t notice that my cell was one of the ones located by the garden. I could smell the flowers when I felt the breeze hit my face. I used to walk the garden with my father before, well...”

You raised your arms, motioning to your cell. Taehyung’s eyes found your eyes once again. You let out a  laugh, finding the irony of the situation funny. Here you sat caged away when right outside your window bloomed freedom and life.

His eyebrows raised at your laughter obviously surprised by your outburst. He watched as your smile faded, and your eyes glossed over.

“I miss him,” You sighed, “He wasn’t the best, but he cared.”

“I’m sorry,” He said, and you felt as though he was apologizing for more than just your father’s death.

Your hand traced one of the iron bars in front of you feeling the cool metal under your fingertips. He watched as you did so, finding your ability to be so calm when everything you had known had crumbed to be quite astounding.

“I’m sorry can’t fix what has already happened. I just wish he had gotten a proper burial.” You sighed, looking away from your hand and finding Taehyung’s figure against the wall, “So, why do you hide down here with the prisoners?”

“You’re better company,” He responded, which surprised you. You weren’t expecting him to answer your question because up to this point he had been a master of keeping the focus off him. He always somehow flipped it back onto you and if he couldn’t do that, then he grew silent.

“Me?” You asked not being able to hide the innocent shock that laced your voice, “I’m sorry, but I’m sure there are plenty of people who could keep you in good company that aren’t locked away.”

He chuckled dryly, “You speak to me like I’m real. Up there, it’s scripted. They’re too afraid of what might happen if they said the wrong thing. It’s ‘yes sir’ and ‘anything for you’ but I never hear people’s wants and their feelings. No one wants to have a conversation.”

You felt a wave of familiarity in what he was saying. You felt as if things started to finally make sense for the first time since he began visiting. From the guilty look in his eyes to the kind gestures he had shown. He had felt familiar, but you never knew how until that moment. Your eyes widen at the realization.

“When your father’s the king, you don’t get to just talk.” You replied almost monotoned, knowing too well the way people treated the offspring of royalty even if they were royalty themselves.

His body stiffened at your words. You could tell he wasn’t expecting you to make the connection and it threw him off guard, body going defensive automatically.

“How did you-“ He paused with a loss of words.

“Because that’s how I felt,” You sighed as you remembered the countless nights sitting up hoping someone would truly want to treat you like a human being and not some figure or purchase, “I knew you looked familiar. I- I couldn’t quite place it. I knew I hadn’t met you before. I’d remember a face like yours. I did see you though, standing over my father’s body before I was knocked out.”

“If it were me, none of this would have happened,” He said, gaze falling on your position on the ground.

“You can’t help who your father is,” You reassured not completely sure why you felt the need to, “But, if I were to be frank, your father is a piece of shit.”

For the first time since he had begun coming to your cell to keep you company, you heard him truly laugh. It wasn’t one of those fake ones he had shown you, but a genuinely bubbly sound. It flowed into his whole face, brightening it.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it,” He responded, a boxy smile gracing his lips.

He began to visit more, and you hated to admit you waited for him. Every time you heard footsteps come toward you the idea that it could be him crosses your mind. Your heart rate would quicken and the bit of energy that your body would produce was evidence enough that you hoped it would be him instead of a guard there to feed you.

You couldn’t blame yourself. If it weren’t for him, you probably would have gone mad from isolation. It wasn’t hard to understand why the prisoners your own father had held for information gave in so quickly. Being alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company and entertained could drive anyone mad.

It led you to think of why you were in fact, still alive. You would have thought you would have been discarded by now since you really had no more use. Taehyung’s father had successfully taken over your father’s kingdom from your understanding. Your own father having no siblings of his own left you useless for there was no one to barter you off to. There was no gain from keeping you.

With you deep in your thoughts, you had not been aware that Taehyung had found himself before you. He watched you as you fiddled with your hands, eyes not focused on anything specific. Your mind somewhere far off.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” He asked, pulling your thoughts back down to earth. You realized he liked to ask you about your thoughts on things and actually hear them. It was much different than the way many had treated you as you grew. You were so used to being a pawn that being treated like a human was refreshing. It was different, but nice.

“Why am I still here?” You asked voicing the very thing that plagued your thoughts, “Your father has nothing to gain from keeping me imprisoned.”

He hummed, “My father doesn’t share anything with me. If he does, he had made the decision long before telling me. He’s never trusted me with much more than simple duties. He thinks I’m troubled.”

“You seem far from troubled,” You responded, finally moving from your spot on the bench. You followed his voice.

Taehyung stood, leaning against the wall directly across from your cell. His arms were crossed across his chest. Normally, you would find the stance intimidating but the way his body was relaxed with no tension made you feel the opposite. A smirk formed on his lips as he let out a halfhearted scoff, “He just doesn’t like anyone who disagrees with his point of view.”

“Your father is warped,” You shook your head, “He would have gained much more from this if he had just sent you to court me. Alliances are worth far more than enemies.”

His eyes found yours at your words and you watched as emotions flickered through them before settling on anger, “My father doesn’t look for the most profit; he thrives in power. He takes joy in destroying cities and taking them as his own. Yes, it would have been smarter to align ourselves, but he would have drowned knowing he didn’t have full control.”

You watched as he shifted uncomfortably in front of you, running his hand through his hair. The conversation not being one he was enjoying, obviously.

Unsure on exactly why you felt the need to, you shifted the conversation, “What do you take joy in?”

“I enjoy going to theatre and viewing artwork,” He responded after pondering for a few moments of silence, “Actually, despite my father’s distain towards the bards, I also quite enjoy their music.”

Your mind wandered for a few moments at the idea that he enjoyed any form of art. It opened up a new layer to him you had barely had a grasp on before. Oddly, you felt elated at the tiny reveal.

“I used to like wandering the garden after raiding the library and finding a quiet place to read. My father didn’t let me leave the castle very often but sometimes he would take me to see a show. I also quite enjoy them.” You responded, a soft smile laying upon your lips at the memory.

Taehyung couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you babbled about what you liked. He also couldn’t help but mimic your small smile though his was more out of guilt than fondness. You seemed so full of life, the one thing he craved from others, and yet you were thrown behind bars to rot. It didn’t sit well with him.

Clearing his throat, he pushed off the wall to move closer to your cell, “Um, I actually bought you something. I figured you were getting tired of the same stuff they’ve been feeding you.”

You watched as he rummaged around in his pocket for a second before pulling out a small wrapped package. He then reached through the bars separating the two of you, placing the item in your hand. His hand barely grazed yours, but you could tell it was warmer than your own.

Curious, you unwrapped the paper surrounding whatever he had smuggled you. Your heart raced at the sight of it. It wasn’t something you normally would be ecstatic about the small piece of pastry in your hands said otherwise. You then took a bite, closing your eyes at the sweet taste and the rich flavor.

“Thank you,” You say softly once you finished chewing.

“It’s nothing,” He said, “I have to return, but I’ll be back. Keep your head up Y/N.”

He gave a small wave before disappearing. You let out a deep breath, eyes finding the pastry still in your hands. Even though he had been gone only moments, you already missed his company.

Trying to do the one thing Taehyung requested was probably one of the hardest thing’s you could have done, but you did it. The only thing keeping you head above water was his visits and the stories of life he brought back with him. It seemed silly but hearing about the minuscule drama that flowed through the halls of the castle gave you entertainment. It made you feel alive still.

From what he had told you, it had been about two months since the total takeover of your home and your very own imprisonment. He does his best to keep you in the loop considering losing track of time down in the dark and the musk was easy to do. You appreciated him for it.

You’ve grown fond of him and you could tell by the way the small smile that never seemed to leave your lips when he was around or the way your stomach twists in knots whenever he told stories he was fond of. But you were definitely certain you had because even when the two of you sat in silence, it was just as comfortable.

Even now, no words between the two of you were being shared but you were in no rush to break the silence. His presence was enough.

“You don’t deserve this,” He sighed from his seated position on the ground, obvious hurt in his voice.

You felt for him. He was a man who was taught right from wrong but forced to stand behind a man who lived for chaos. The same man that drove him to find solace in the dark of the dungeon and confide in you.

Even then, he didn’t say much. You just noticed he would come down bothered and watch to make sure the guards didn’t follow him. Once comfortable, he would fall into what you had come to find as his true self and a very kind man.

Ironic considering who his father was.

You sighed, “This isn’t on you.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad for it,” His response quick and slightly irritable.

You could tell he had worked himself up. His eyes locked on the ground and his leg bouncing endlessly to ease the tension through his body. The need to touch him to help calm him down shot through you but passed quickly when your brain deemed it impossible to accomplish. You settled by placing your hand on the metal in front of you, not comforting you or him in the process.

“Tae,” You breathe out, afraid to be any louder, “I’m still alive, therefore, I still have a chance to get out of here free.”

You spoke words that neither of you really had faith in. The odds of you walking out of the cell alive were slim, let alone alive and free. The fact you were even still breathing was a wonder in its own. Though he knew it wasn’t plausible, you still watched as his leg quit bouncing and his eyes broke from the dirt. He still opted to stay quiet.

“You deserve more,” You said filling the silence, “You’re a good man. I’d hate to see your father take that from you.”

You looked away from him decided to give him some privacy. It was odd; the way he got so worked up over the idea you were still behind the iron bars. The very bars under the touch of your fingers. Even abnormal as it was for his reaction to be the way it was, especially since your situation wasn’t a new one, he didn’t deserve to be ogled.

You felt warmth envelop the outer of your hand. The idea of pulling your own hand away flashed through your thoughts, but when your eyes met with another resting on the top of yours all feelings of that were lost.

Taehyung had moved closer, enough to where he could touch you. His thumb grazed your skin in a soothing movement, and you felt the tension you didn’t even know you had flee.

“I’m not sure how but,” He paused, and you surprised yourself with how fast your heart had begun to beat, “I’ll figure something out. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

The warmth of his hand gone in seconds and part of you longed for it to return. Instead, you watched as he pulled himself off the ground. He didn’t need to announce he was leaving. You knew. He brushed his pants off once standing and you watched dust fly into the air in the minimal sunlight. He then started his way down the hall.

“Don’t do anything to get you hurt,” You pleaded loud enough for him to hear you. He paused his step and turned to look at you from the distance. It ironically reminded you of the time you asked for his name though this time the smirk didn’t grace his lips and his eyes didn’t light up in amusement. You felt as though your voice would fail you as you somehow managed to speak the last bit out, “Please.”

He nodded his head and disappeared. Part of you, if not all of you, had a hard time believing he wouldn’t.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t the one for business meetings. He had been through his fair share of them and they all were so boring and drawn out. He also wasn’t a fan of family dinners. There was too much baggage to weigh him down within one for him to enjoy it. And frankly, he wasn’t a fan of his father. So, when his own father had announced that he had invited important clients for dinner and he was expected to show, he was in no surprise very indifferent. Could anyone blame him? It was the trifecta from hell.

He had really planned on skipping out, but with his father specifically seeking him out and asking personally it meant business. No one, not even the kings son, would go against him; or could for that matter.

A light knock on his bedroom door echoed into his silent room.

“Yes?” Taehyung asked, his eyes flicking to the door that remained closed. He really would rather had not been bothered, but he couldn’t ignore it.

“Sir, your father wished for me to remind you to be in the dining room before the guests arrive.”

As he always did. His father didn’t think he could get dressed for the day let alone show up to a meeting on time. It was all for appearance. He wanted people to know he had an heir to his thrown. He wanted people to know that once he was gone, there would be another to stand in his place. His empire would still run strong.

“I’ll be there.” He called back to the staff, feeling bad for the poor woman.

Once he figured she had disappeared into the massive castle, he proceeded to fling his legs off his bed and go to his wardrobe. He dressed in his less formal clothes, but they were put together enough for his father not to feel like he was bringing shame to his name.

He then made his way out of his temporary sleeping quarters and turned down the corridor. He had gone a few doors down when one in particular caught his eye. He paused his step, looking at it. The door itself wasn’t the thing that caught his eye. Actually, it looked exactly the same as every other in the castle. The archway that framed the door was the reason he had stopped.

Taehyung moved in closer, seeing lines etched into the stone of the doorway. His hands reached out, touching the lines carved in deep enough he could feel every bump under his fingertips. A small smile formed on his lips when he realized they had to be height marks. He was under the impression that you were the only child, so he assumed it to be yours.

“Ah, Sir, there you are,” A voice said causing his eyes to drift away from the notches on the wall to the person in question, “I was just going to check on you.”

Taehyung cleared is throat and let his hand fall from the wall, “I was already on the way. Have they arrived?”

“No, but the king requested me to go fetch you.”

“Well, it’s only down the hallway,” Taehyung sighed, “Or does he have you escorting me there as well?”

The man took a step back and bowed, leaving him to find his own way.

The eating quarters only took moments to walk to and when he rounded into the room it was still empty except for the staff fluttering about making sure everything was ready for the arrivals. He sighed, fully taking in how long of a night it truly was going to be.

The guests arrived a while later, leaving both him and his father to greet them before all taking a seat at the table. He had taken in that the guests were royalty from a few kingdoms away which struck him confused because his father wasn’t one to be social to others. From what he gathered his name Prince Lee and he brought along his own son.

The dinner went as neatly as it could have. Barely anyone had talked, which wasn’t a surprise to him in the slightest. If they did speak, it was to address the staff. No one decided to speak until the short wait for the dessert.

“So, why did you ask us here?” The Prince inquired, causing Taehyung’s eyes to leave and look at the guests.

His father stared at them for a second eyeing the man before responding, “I am aware that your sister was the queen of this kingdom before her passing, am I correct?”

Taehyung felt his stomach drop. He hadn’t realized the royalty his father had invited was in fact royalty related to you. He glanced between the two men. Both were obviously overconfident and neither showed any emotion.

“Yes, you are,” the Prince said taking a drink from his glass and setting it back down, “But as you said, my sister has passed and long before you became in possession of his kingdom. So, why am I here?”

His father chuckled, “I have something you might want.”

Taehyung choked on his drink, which summoned a glare from the king next to him. He sent a small, closed mouth smile to his father in attempts to apologize, not that it would matter in the long run.

“And what might that be?” He asked, eyebrow pulled up as he questioned.

“You are aware they had a child,” the king hummed. Each passing moment made Taehyung want to leave the room, but he had to know how this would play out. He had to know if you would be safe, “I still have her if you were interested. Of course, there would be a price.”

The silence that fell over the table was deafening and Taehyung was afraid that they may hear his own heartbeat which had been pounding since the mention of you. He itched to fidget with something to ease his growing anxiety, but he couldn’t, so he kept glancing between the two.

“What makes you think we want her?” The other questioned.

“She is your kin, is she not?” His father responded causing Tae’s eyes to follow where the sound came from, “I thought I would show good faith and offer you her life. You should be honored I even thought to.”

“She would be dead if you didn’t think you would get something out of this exchange, so what were you thinking? Tell me, and I will deem whether it is worth it.”

The staff came into the room. The hands maneuvered around the room picking up dishes that were done, refilling drinks, and placing the dessert down onto the table. Tae’s eyes followed them around appreciating how it was so well choreographed. Each person moving in and out without interference from another. Normally, he wouldn’t have paid much attention, but he was looking for anything to distract him from the tension in the room.

“I was thinking of an alliance. I heard there were talks of conspiracy against me and my kingdoms. I would be a fool to ignore them. So, I offer you the girl for your arms if need be.” Taehyung’s father offered, his eyes scanning the man across the table.

The other laughed, “Maybe you are a fool if you were to believe my father would ever ally himself with someone of your nature. The girl may be royalty of our blood, but she isn’t worth the risk and embarrassment of being associated with you and your tyranny.”

Taehyung grew cold at your uncle’s response despite how much sweat he had been producing. Without a reason to keep you alive, you would be executed. Both himself and you knew that would be the case despite his denial. He had never felt more shame than in that moment. His own father was the reason you weren’t worth being saved. They had no idea who you were so none knew how worth it you truly were.

He’d risk it if it were him.

“It’s better to keep me on your side rather than not, though I see you made your decision,” The king warned causing Taehyung to cringe internally. Threats were all his dad was good at.

The man on the other side of the table rose, his eyes locking with the other’s, “We are more united than your makeshift kingdoms and unreliable loyalties. Know that if you try, we will take you down. My welcome has worn so I will take my leave.”

Both king and prince watched as the guest exited the dining hall. The silence within the room was eerily loud. Taehyung wouldn’t dare try to talk as all he would get in response was the anger buried deep within his father from a deal that fell through. Not only that, but he was afraid his own voice would give away how shaken he was from the encounter.

“A public execution seems fitting for a royal, don’t you think?” The King voiced to no one in particular. Taehyung swallowed hard at the image that flashed through his mind.

“Isn’t that a little drastic?” He asked, a risk in itself.

His father turned his head and locked eyes with him, “I refuse to let them make a mockery of my name. They will regret their decision.”

The King then stood, slamming his hands against the table. Taehyung flinched back at the action. He then watched as his father exited the hall, leaving him alone with the dining staff. All of them wearing the wide eyes as they too felt the fear he had.

He cleared his throat shaking all of them from their trance, “I am done. You may proceed.”

As he stood, the staff began to clear the dishes and clean the table. He barely noticed the routine they had placed amongst themselves this time. He was too distracted with the knowledge that you had just been officially given a death sentence.

If his father had done this closer to when he had forced himself into power, Taehyung wouldn’t have been so torn. Yet too much time had passed, and now he was drawn to you. He found himself wanting to spend his time with you, even if it was within the dungeons of the castle.

He wouldn’t be able to witness seeing you hanged.

The dungeon was quiet, as it has been for the past week. It was just you, the bars that held you within, and the drunkard that had been thrown within a cell a few down from you that didn’t know begging wouldn’t get him anywhere.

You hadn’t realized how reliant you had become to the Prince’s visits. It was lonely being there with nothing but your thoughts. You tried your hardest not to let them consume you because you’ve seen what isolation does to a solid mind.

Time seemed to still be a foreign concept to you. The only way of being able to tell was the small window that would fade from light, to dark, to back again. Though, when you looked out from it, you were able to see that your garden was indeed looking less vibrant than before. You assumed that autumn would be on its way soon.

The rickety bench laid beneath you, somehow still able to support your weight despite the use it had endured within the past few months. Your arm found rest laying across your eyes shielding the sun that peaked through the window. Your mind wandering to daydream about freedom. Something you knew would most likely always stay a dream.

The clearing of a voice broke through the silence, “Am I interrupting?”

Your mouth opened slightly at the familiar voice. You removed your arm from your eyes as you went to push yourself into the sitting position. There he stood on the other side of the bars. His hair was disheveled and hung into his eyes.

“Not much for you to interrupt, is there?” You respond, standing up and walking towards the metal. The closer you got, the easier it was to see that he seemed concerned behind all the fringe. Despite his obvious distress, he gave a weak side smile at your attempt at a joke. It fell almost instantly. You cocked your head to the side slightly, trying to meet his brown irises, “What’s wrong?”

He stayed silent at your question, his eyes finding the dirt floor below him. His weight shifted from foot to foot as he tried to process what was on his mind. You didn’t push him as you figured that he would end up letting what fogged his mind out into the open. He wouldn’t look so troubled if he didn’t plan on telling you.

Yet, there was no need to tell you. You already knew from his actions.

“There was a meeting a few nights ago,” He started, his eyes finally finding your own, “I was surprised he wanted me to attend. When I found out that it was a prince from a near kingdom it made more sense. He wanted to look the part of a great king. When he arrived, I come to find out that he was the brother to the queen, your mother. My father offered him a deal. Your life, for an alliance.”

You nodded, taking in the information. The corners of your eyes stinged as you held back tears, “And they didn’t take the deal.”

“No,” Taehyung swallowed hard, “My father plans on making an example out of you. He scheduled a public execution within the next few days. I- I don’t know what to do.”

A tear slipped down your cheek at your solidified fate, “Nothing, there isn’t anything you can do. This was always going to happen.”

It was your turn to find comfort looking at the dirt below as another tear slipped. You told yourself that you were never going to get out of this situation alive many times, but the reality was finally hitting. Your will seemed to dwindle within seconds as you watched the hope you shouldn’t have held onto get crushed under the news.

Taehyung reached through and grasped your hand, enveloping it within his own. He tried to sooth you the best he could with the barricade in the way. He would have brought you to his chest if he could have, but alas, it was impossible. It was almost painful to see you so distraught.

“I figured you’d want to hear it from me,” He said, the sadness in this voice evident.

You looked up at him. His eyes were red and glossy from him holding back his own tears, you could tell. You almost wanted to thank him for being so strong because you just couldn’t anymore. He pulled the hand he had within his own through the bars and up to his lips, placing them gently against your skin. If only you were able to relish in how they felt on you then on your own impending doom.

He pulled away, letting your hand go gently. You pulled it back to you and laced your fingers around the metal in front of you, “If only we had the chance to meet in different circumstances, Kim Taehyung.”

“I agree,” He voiced. He straightened his body and bowed to you, “Princess.”

Your heart ached and this time it wasn’t for your life, but for him. Your whole life, you knew that you were nothing but an asset in a bigger game. Men came from many kingdoms to be in your good graces, and your fathers, so the families could merge and become a greater force. You always knew that a prince would come and sweep you off your feet, even if it was just for their profit.

But this prince in front of you was nothing like the ones who always stared over your shoulder seeking your father’s approval. He yearned for the day to shed the foul taste his own father left in many’s mouths. He was thoughtful and understanding. He saw you as a person. That was something no one seemed to be able to do. Even now, with your dirty clothes and matted hair, he bowed to you as if you stood before him in a gown looking to be courted.

When he stood, he held a sad smile, “I have to make an appearance, or they’ll send out a witch hunt for me.”

“Do what you must,” You respond. He nodded and turned on his heels, “Thank you.”

His movements halted more a minute at your thanks before he then continued down the hall.

Taehyung couldn’t shake the sick feeling he had in his stomach as he stood behind his father in front of the towns people. It was only a few hundred, far less than home, but he assumed the night his father came parading into the town there were many casualties. They might have had more in number before then.

He was used to the dirty glares; He had gotten them since that night, not that it was new then either. The staff that hadn’t died in the attack continued to work within the walls for the new royals, though the stares and cold air were obvious. Yet, the look of the commoners faces as they waited for the king to speak in itself spoke wonders. None of them wanted to be there. None of them had respect for the new King.

Taehyung didn’t blame them one bit.

He shifted his view from his father slightly to the right. His eyes landed on the execution stage, causing his stomach to churn. It was simple, which was all it needed to be. The rope hung slightly too high for your small figure to reach, which he assumed why a step stool lay not too far off. A man stood there, dressed in black, readying himself for his job.

It didn’t take long for the King to grab the crowd’s attention, them fearing that if they weren’t their village would go right back up into flames, “We are here for the execution of the only blood left to from the king before me.”

As he said that, you were dragged onto the scene. It was almost a mockery as they cleaned and dressed you up as if you didn’t just spend months within the confines of a cell. Your hands were bound, making it easier for the guard to drag you around. They also gagged you, so you weren’t able to speak. Taehyung assumed it was so that your words couldn’t influence the town into a revolution, and so no one could hear you scream.

The crowd itself seemed shocked; most probably assuming that you had already perished with the first attack. They didn’t know about your blood-soaked gown or the will you used to even survive that night.

The walk to the execution stage seemed to take so much longer than it should have. Taehyung could have blamed it on you struggling within the guards arms, but really, he knew the real reason was the anxiety of what he was about to witness.

He wondered if this was what the people who had loved ones on death row felt as they were forced to watch them hang.

But then, you were on the stage standing under the rope. The struggling had stopped. If there were a chance for you to escape your fate, it would have happened before then. You scanned over the crowd, exceedingly calm for what was about to happen.

Taehyung could hear his heartbeat in his ears as your eyes found his and stayed on him. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going through your mind at the moment. He couldn’t even properly filter through his own thoughts; he couldn’t imagine yours.

The executioner then placed the bag over your head, cutting your eye contact off and shielding the onlookers from the gore that was about to occur. Then, the rope was placed around your neck and tightened. Then he left you there, alone, as he went to stand by the lever and awaited his orders

Taehyung’s mouth went dry as his father demanded the attention of the audience once again, “Your kingdom was a disgrace when I came. It didn’t take me but moments to take over and make it my own. We are cleansing the kingdom with this execution. With my actions, we will rise to become untied and undefeatable. It’s time we-“

The King’s words fell off as he coughed, blood splattering onto the ground. The crowd erupted into a murmurs and screams as the sword that punctured through the king’s chest was withdrawn, leaving him without support. He fell to his knees holding the wound that was now profusely oozing blood.

Taehyung stood, sword still in hand. The blade itself was drenched with the blood of his father. The guards that surrounded them drew their own weapons, pointing them at him. He kept his composure, though honestly he felt anything but that. The sound of his father hitting the floor echoed in the silence.

“Stand down.” He voiced outload to the guards. It came out far more steady than he thought would have, but he wasn’t complaining.

He watched as the men debated doing as he demanded, though the shallow breathing of his father seemed to be proof enough for them to still stand strong. His eyes risked a look down at the dying man. The pool of blood under him continued to grow beneath him, staining the wood he laid on. Then, his chest seemed to have stilled.

Taehyung always knew his father would parish from the hands of someone he had wronged, because frankly, he was a horrible man. Yet, Taehyung didn’t know he was going to be the one to perform the fatal blow. It didn’t surprise him that he felt no remorse.

“I said stand down,” Taehyung said, more power within his voice, “As King, I demand you to stand down.”

The guards still seemed hesitant, but one by one they sheathed their swords. Taehyung followed suit, placing his own bloodstained weapon back in it’s cover. He glanced once more at his father’s corpse before turning to it. He pushed the body with his foot as if to double check that he was in fact dead. He then refocused his attention on what was important.

He jumped off the platform and hurried his way over to the execution stage. He waved off the executioner from the lever, making sure there could be no mistake.

He sighed to himself at the image in front of him. He had watched quite a few executions in his time, having the father he had, but they all were faceless. He didn’t know them, but he knew you.

He reached out and pulled the knotted rope from around you neck, freeing you from death’s possible grasp. Once freed, the rope swung freely though it would soon still once more. The bag thrown over your head was next, giving you back your sight once more.

Light flooded into your vision, confusing you. Your eyes adjusted slowly, and they found the familiar eyes you had come accustomed to seeing while you were imprisoned, though this time there were no bars obscuring his face. He was just as handsome as the last time you saw him, maybe even more now that both of you were out of the dimly lit dungeon.

He reached around you, untying the knot that tied the gag. You looked at him, “What did you do Taehyung?”

His eyes hardened a little at your whispered question as he moved to work on the ties on your wrists, “Nothing that wasn’t going to happen anyway.”

Your eyes then focused on the body lying in the distance and you sighed. Of course.

Once your hands were free from the restraints, he moved back within your line of sight. He only spared a second of a warm glance before addressing the crowd, “You were brought here under the assumption that there will be an execution today. I’m sorry that the plans had changed. The princess is not sentenced to death anymore. Please return to your normal routines.

As much as he sounded like a true leader, he looked nervous and shaken. With your now free limbs, you shuffled over toward him taking the chance to lace your hand within his in attempt to lend him strength and comfort.

He looked over at you, eyes once again softened. A soft squeeze of your hand telling you that you had made the right decision.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, appreciating the dress you were wearing. You never thought you would miss the process of getting dressed up in extravagant dresses to socialize with other royals. After being a prisoner for months with nothing but one change of clothes the whole time, you didn’t necessarily mind now.

To be honest, you thought you were dead. It wasn’t hard to deny the awful truth when the days behind the bars turned into months. What solidified it was when the bag was placed over your own head and the noose tightened around your neck. It was hard to deny anything at that point. You were going to die.

But nothing came despite the obscured vision and the rough twine rubbing against you.

Your savior being none other than the man you had found comfort in for months. Meeting his eyes comforted you yet again despite all your confusion.

You never thought that he would have taken his own father’s life just to save your own. He literally risked everything to save you, even his own life. You owed him far more than you ever think you could return since everything you owned in your life already belonged to him.

He still was king.

A knock echoed into your room, breaking the comfortable silence. You peered over at the door as it creaked open only to close after the new presence was within the walls.

The man leaned against the wall taking in the view, causing you to feel as though you needed to hide from embarrassment. A boxy smile crossed his face at your reaction. Trying to ignore him, you returned to your reflection making sure everything was in place.

“Why haven’t you gone down to the event?” You asked, taking a peek at him from the corner of your eye.

Taehyung let out a small chuckle at the idea you proposed at him, “A King shouldn’t ever enter an event without his Queen by his side.”

A small smile crossed your lips as you turned and walked towards him. He excepted you as your wrapped your arm around his own. He leaned over placing a gentle kiss upon your head before he escorted you out of the room and down to the hall.

-   -   -

Thanks to @ggukkieland for giving me support this whole time! Here’s your tag love!

-   -   -

[highsviolets]

Drabble: US Ranger Javier Peña (Take Me To Church-verse)

a/n: a drabble for my dearest @frannyzooey​ as part of her Din Djarin Western/Brothel AU Take Me To Church. Thank you for trusting me with part of your story, Kelli -- it’s the greatest honor to be your friend (not to mention writing for you like WHAT). 

rating: E (18+ only!) 

There are regulars, and then there are regulars. Gracie was always clever, and she was quick to spot the difference early on.

US Ranger Javier Peña was a regular, and he knew all the girls, affectionately greeting every one each time he paid a visit to the madam’s establishment. “Hello Freckles,” he’d say, a gentle kiss accompanying the light endearment for the red-headed girl with stars painted on her cheeks.

A charismatic man with jagged-edge soul, the other girls often complain about Javier when he leaves town — one night rough, the other tender, with no telling how he would love from one day to the next. No one denies that he’s good — if not one of the best — but something about the locked pieces of his heart, the way he loves with a mercurial touch, confuses them.

But Gracie — oh, Gracie is Javier Peña's favorite. An expert at reading his mood, she can tell from the first sip of whiskey at the bar how he will want her. Hands and knees? Bent over the bed? Or on her back, bracketed between strong forearms as he kisses away her gentle cries?

Tonight, Javi’s leaning against the bar as he always does, top button undone for an almost lewd display of skin. There’s a mild crowd: familiar faces and first-timers, some of them huddled around him for a chat about what’s happening out in the settlements nearer to the true frontier. One of them looks vaguely familiar; a friend of Francisco’s, perhaps?

“I wish I could help more,” Gracie hears Javi murmur in a honeyed rasp as she approaches. Just the half-dozen words are enough to make her toes curl and her chin lilt backward slightly in purple anticipation of what else that voice is going to tell her tonight. “But that’s all the information I have. Maybe you’ll be more effective than us, working around, uh” — Gracie spots a hint of tongue dragging across Javi’s lower lip — “official restrictions, as it were.”

The other man — shorter, and strong of build — nods in agreement just as Javier spots you  over the stranger’s shoulder, smirking around the rim of his whiskey glass as he brings it to his lips. Catching his companion’s shift in attention, the other man turns. Handsome, close-set features relax when he spots Gracie and he looks up to Javier with a knowing smile. “I’ll leave you.”

But Javi shakes his head and takes Gracie’s delicate hand in his own larger one, tugging her until she makes contact with his body in a soft stumble. He lets it lay on his chest, the other snaking around to rest low and heavy on her lower back. Comforting, familiar warmth seeps through the flimsy chemise, and Gracie’s struck once again by how sturdy Javier is, thick muscles evident as she glides her palm across the stiff fabric of his shirt.

A kiss to her forehead, openly grazing his hand across back — drifting dangerously close to her ass — Javier is the picture ease. “No reason for you to leave,” he says, regretting the words as soon as he says them. Gracie is all soft and pliant, already melting into him, the rapidly increasing rise and fall of her chest visible thanks to the low cut of her underclothes.

But the man declines, leaving their company with another smile. As soon as he turns his back, Javi spins her into him, bracing her weight against forearm. She sways, and he catches her quickly, hands settling on her waist.

“Hola, Gracie,” Javier murmurs. He lets his calloused hands skim lightly up and down her sides with a feather-touch, fingertips dancing over her curves, and Gracie feels as though she can hardly breathe. Javier is the oxygen, the flame, the cause — he is an inferno, and to get too close to him is to burn.

Gracie has never wanted to be consumed more.

“Hello, Javier,” she coos in response, tilting her head back to properly meet his eyes. Dark in the hazy light, she spots the beginnings of lust in their depths, narrowing ever-so-slightly. They track down to her now-exposed neck and Gracie smiles fondly as Javier bends down to press an open-mouthed kiss to her pulse point.

“I missed you,” Javier murmurs, that hoarse voice against her skin sending heat straight to her core. Dragging his lips north, up the column of her throat, he shuffles his feet closer, bringing his hips flush to hers.

“Javier,” Gracie replies, and even she’s not sure if it’s a rebuke or a plea for more. No one, no one, no one, can make her feel like this; can make her want them, make her thighs drip with arousal, before they even bring her upstairs.

“Missed this,” is all he offers as a whispered response against her ear. Arms tighten around her when she shivers, locking in his embrace, and she can feel the evidence of his arousal as he leans into her even further, hot and heavy against her hip.

With a shuddering sigh, Gracie gathers her wits. Raising her hand for the second time that night, lithe fingers fiddle with his collar, rubbing the material back and forth in steady rhythm. “Are you going to take me upstairs, Javier, or are you just going to keep missing me?”

“Well then, hermosa,” his mouth drawls against her skin, “take me upstairs.”

—-

“Oh, fuck, Javier,” Gracie moans, letting her head dip back between her shoulders. “Oh my god.”

Javier groans from his position between her legs, both of which are now thrown over his shoulders. “Good girl, Gracie,” he breathes, sliding his nose through her folds. “Let me hear you, hermosa.”

Spreading her legs wider, hands gripping at her thighs, Javier decides he likes her like this — up on the vanity, skin flush with the cool surface, looking down at him seated in the chair. Leaning forward, he starts tasting her again, swirling his tongue against clit in tortuously slow circles. An insistent tug on his hair makes him look up at her again — bare, wanting, brow furrowed in pleasure and Javier cants his forward, the sight of her fueling his own need.

Dragging his tongue back down, he licks her open slowly, enjoying her soft cries and exhortations of more, Javier, please.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, he lifts a hand and traces it upwards, grasping at her breast. It’s enough to make him groan, rolling her hardened nipple between his finger and thumb. Pinching at it slightly, Javier moans again when the action causes Gracie to roll her hips against his mouth, insistent.

Still unhurried, Javier dips into her, lapping at her arousal. “God, you taste good,” he mutters against her wet heat, smiling when Gracie tries to grind down on him again. “Do you need something, mi reina?” he adds, nipping lightly at her thigh.

“Javi,” Gracie whines, twirling her fingers around strands of his hair, now curled with sweat and exertion. “Javi, please — oh”

Her request is broken off with a soft moan, taken aback by the way Javier’s now sucking lightly at her clit. “Oh my god,” she repeats. It becomes a stuttering mantra as he returns his hands to her hips, pulling her deeper into her mouth, devouring her with the reckless intensity with which he does everything, his own hips bucking slightly at the way she floods his mouth.

“Come for me, hermosa,” Javier says into her. “Come for me; I know you’re close, I can taste it.”

It should be so strange, him fucking her like this, but she doesn’t care. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room, spotting his broad-shouldered back and the eagerness with which he eats her, her own eyes wild and bright, is what makes her come undone with a sharp cry. Rolling her hips into his mouth, she rides out her release like a spluttering fire, arousal dimmed for the moment, but not quite put out.

After she pushes him away, over-sensitive, Javier leans up to kiss her. His chin, his lips, are shiny with her slick but she doesn’t care, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely, letting her tongue slide across his lips and tasting herself on his skin.

“Oh, Javier,” Gracie says, glassy-eyed, as he pulls away. “You’re - you’re incredible.”

His returning grin is positively wicked. “Oh, mi reina,” he whispers, fingers finding their way between her thighs. “Who said I was done with you?”

[karalovesallthegirls]

“Is this going to become unpleasant? Having Kara here?” “I’m not a child, Arthur. I can be in the same room as my ex-wife without causing a scene.”

“I know, dear, I know,” he soothes in that grating voice of his. “I just want you to be comfortable.” His grip on her arm is anything but. She smiles through the discomfort like always and places a hand affectionately on his chest. “I’m certainly not comfortable,” some old hag Lex invited chimes in. “I can’t believe they even let that creature in here.” It takes all of Lena’s self-restraint not to deck her clear across the face. To stand there with a placid smile while her present company disparage the woman she’d once vowed to have and to hold till death. It’s been a year since the divorce and it hasn’t gotten any easier.

“Now now, can we please be civil?” she hears behind her, and again she’s forced to focus all her energy on maintaining an air of indifference as her darling brother arrives. “That thing was Lena’s wife for a while, after all.” His smile is anything but kind, his figure imposing as he steps in close. “Yes, well,” Lena says with a passable smile, “we all make mistakes, right?” Arthur laughs and the hag laughs and Lex puts a brotherly arm around her to pull her in close, close enough to whisper against her ear without drawing attention, “Let’s not make anymore, hmm?”

He squeezes her so hard he nearly breaks skin.

-------------

Their story goes like this: They fall into a mad sort of love, one that consumes and surrounds and heals. They marry in the spring with flowers in their hair.

They finalize their divorce before the leaves brown and fall.

-------------

Lena manages to avoid Kara for most of the night.

Partially by her own efforts, partially from Arthur intervening. No one wants another Lena-Kara cat fight, not tonight at least. While it can be fun to watch the former spouses quibble over politics, tonight is meant to be a celebration honoring the most important thing in this world, something so important no drama should overpower it: Lex. Lex is running for senate. They announced it earlier in the week to great approval and support. Arthur figures he’ll spend a few years working the senate before making a bid for president. They’ve already written the campaign slogans.

“I’m so honored you all came here to join me for this momentous occasion,” he says, and he smiles at the crowd with equal parts affection and disgust, though perhaps only Lena can recognize that second part. “We stand here now at the precipice of a historic moment – an end to the horrendous occupation of our planet. To freedom from otherworldly invaders.” As if on cue, all eyes turn to Kara. The lone alien in a room full of bigots. Everyone knows who Kara is, of course. Even those who somehow missed the great identity reveal know her by her scars. Even in the face of hatred, she stands tall. Unwavering. Staring down the man who wishes for her demise.

“It’s amazing, the hubris. We can’t even have a moment’s peace at a banquet, can we?” Lex says, earning a round of laughter. Lena stares steadily ahead at him. She can’t stand to look at Kara right now. “I’m here as a concerned citizen, Mr. Luthor. Nothing more.” “Of course, as a citizen,” his voice drips with disdain. “Well then please, stay. I support all of my great state’s citizens. I’m a man of the people, after all. I represent all of my human constituents, but please. Enjoy the lobster.” The night moves past that temporary discomfort, and Lena almost finds herself settling into it when, of course, her ex-wife approaches.

“Mrs. Danvers,” Kara greets her, and she rolls her eyes like always. “Always a pleasure to see you.” “It’s Ms. Luthor now, Supergirl. Surely your alien memory can recall our divorce.” “My mistake. Sometimes I forget you’re really a Luthor,” she smiles, like she’s trying to joke with her. “You’ve got so much hair, after all. Your genes haven’t quite kicked in yet.”

Lena doesn’t smile. Doesn’t do anything more than stare. She can see Arthur in her peripheral vision stepping closer, but she holds a hand up to stop him. No need to cause a scene.

“Do you need something or are you just here to harass me?”

Kara just shakes her head, stepping back. “I apologize. Just wanted to say hello to an old friend before I left.”

“We aren’t friends, Supergirl. Feel free to leave now,” Lena sneers with a dismissive wave of her fingers. That is finally what does it – Kara gives her one forlorn glance before exiting the ballroom. The crowd around Lena snicker as she departs, and Arthur lays a too-large hand down on her shoulder.

"Security should have never let her in, love,” he says, genuinely apologetic. “What do you say we forget this unpleasantness and dance?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He takes her hand and leads her out to the dance floor and she smiles at him, with the burn of unshed tears at the back of her eye, and together they dance.

-------------

This is how their story plays out to the public: Lena Luthor marries Kara Danvers and, unknowingly, she marries Supergirl.

Kara Danvers is Supergirl – something she didn’t know, something the world didn’t know until human hero Lex Luthor reveals it. When he heroically saves her from her mistake. Everything she has built as a human crumbles in one fell swoop. The legality of her marriage – the legitimacy – is questioned. How could an alien love a Luthor? How could a Luthor love a Super? Should humans and aliens even be allowed to marry?

Lex Luthor is released from prison with a pardon, and the anti-alien movement gains traction alongside him. There’s talk of voting out the Alien Amnesty Act and making public its list of intergalactic immigrants.

Lena files for a divorce, one the press lovingly reports on how it is in no way amicable. Kara Danvers stops existing as a reporter, as a person.

Lena takes her place beside Lex, leaves everything she ever built with Kara behind. She takes back up the mantle of Luthor and all that it entails. The world sinks back into its own bigotry, rolls back rights hard won. Lena falls in love with someone new – Arthur White. A family friend and loyal employee of Lex Corp. Gossip magazines love to talk about their romance, but always mention that Lena wants to take things slow. She’s in no hurry to tie the knot again.

When asked, Lena denies ever knowing Kara was an alien.

-------------

Lena finds a moment’s solace in the bathroom.

There’s something soothing about the rhythmic routine of scrubbing soap into her skin, under her nails, over and over like maybe the motion will be enough to fully wash her clean. She hasn’t felt clean in a long time. The bathroom door opens behind her but she hardly notices, too focused on her ritual.

“Lex is always such a charmer,” she hears from behind her, and of course. Of course, it’s the person she’s so adamantly avoided all night. Of course, they’re alone together. Not that Lena is ever alone anymore. “Sometimes I almost even buy the crap he says.”

“You know, I told Arthur I didn’t need to extend our restraining order but you’re making me think that maybe I should,” Lena says without looking up from her hands. Again and again she rubs them together under the water, scrubbing until her skin turns red. “You need to leave.”

Kara doesn’t leave. Worse, she locks the door and slowly approaches.

Lena looks up at her reflection in the mirror in alarm, eyes wide in terror, and she shakes her head frantically, mouthing ‘no’ repeatedly as Kara draws ever closer. Kara pulls out an earpiece from her ear and holds it up to Lena’s. “Listen,” Kara whispers. Her front presses gently against Lena’s back, bumping her into the sink. Lena grips the sink in a white-knuckled hold.

Through the earpiece, soft echo of someone quietly sobbing plays out. “Brainy’s looping this audio over your bug,” Kara whispers against her other ear. “They can’t hear us. To them it just sounds like you’re crying alone in the bathroom.”

“You can’t be sure,” Lena barely breathes out even as she sinks back against her former spouse. “Lex-” “Isn’t listening. I promise. Trust me.”

That really is all it takes. Lena will always trust Kara.

She’s turning and shoving before Kara can say another word, pressing her against the wall with a desperate kiss. It’s frantic and dirty, both of them gripping at each other like they don’t know where to touch, like any minute someone will catch them and it’ll all be over. “Baby,” Kara breathes against her lips, and Lena nearly melts. “My love.” Lena just moans in reply. Licks into her mouth, desperate, trying to work her hand underneath Kara’s gown, trying to take advantage of every second she’s allowed to be near her, but they’re both distracted by the rapid beeping coming from Kara’s communicator.

“We’re out of time,” Kara gasps against her. Lena shudders at the feel of her lips moving against her own. “Dammit, dammit!”

She pushes away from Lena with an anguished sigh, running a hand over her mouth. Lena leans heavily against the bathroom stall trying to catch her breath. “We have twenty seconds until the loop ends,” Kara announces, looking at her cellular device.  “Listen, I’m going to come for you, okay? This isn’t over. Don’t give up. We just need a little more time but he is not going to win. Just stay strong, my love, okay? You have to believe me.”

She kisses Lena’s forehead, then her mouth. Lena tugs her in for a longer, frantic kiss, like she’s scared to let her go. “I love you,” Lena says, because she doesn’t believe it. She doesn’t believe they can beat him. But she does believe in this: “I love you so much, Kara.” Kara kisses her again, then again, then the beeping becomes too much to ignore. With one last, lingering look, she turns and vanishes in a quick gust of wind, leaving Lena alone in the bathroom. She takes just a few moments to get herself back together. Wipes her face clean, her eyes dry. Washes her hands once more. When she steps out, Arthur is there waiting. He holds his arm out for her to take, and she loops hers through it. His grip is tight as he leads her back towards the main hall. “Crying in the bathroom?” he says, voice low. “How embarrassing, Lena.” The mask she wears falls back into place at that as the high of Kara is shattered. “We all have moments of weakness, Arthur. Let’s just go back to the party.” And so they go.

-------------

Theirs is the story of two factions facing off in a cultural war.  

This is how their story goes for years and years, told through newsprint and blog posts and gossip whispered on the streets. Their story of lovers turned enemy, of humanity versus the other. Luthor and Super, alien and human.

But the real story, the truth hidden by all the gossip and hearsay, is so much worse. Beneath it all, theirs is a love story.

[inkandpen22]

All I Want (1/4)

Request: I would honestly be happy with anything you write! Maybe a slow burn with Sirius x Reader where their relationship is kind of like lily x James and Hermione x Ron idk 😂 I’m not really sure aaaaaah

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader 

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 1.4k

Part Summary: Y/N and Sirius are in a FWB situation but they’ve also been best friends since First Year. When the Spring Ball rolls around, things get interesting, but they always are with these two. 

A/N: sorry this took ages to get out! Hope you like it! X

Masterlist

Sirius

While James and I walk to potions, he continues to nag me about the upcoming dance. He acts as if I can’t ask a girl out. I have it all planned: don’t worry about it until the day before.

“You need a date,” James warns.

“Well that’s easy,” I dismiss

“That’s true, he could ask a Slytherin and even she would consider it,” Remus remarks, appearing on my other side.

“No, I already have someone in mind,” I correct with a smug expression.

“Who?” James presses.

Right on cue, my favorite girl appears down the hall with Evans. Merlin, she is utterly perfect. Her perfect hair, skin, walk, smile.

“Y/N! Morning,” I greet as the boys and I approach the duo.

“Good afternoon,” she smiles, already giving me her full attention.

“Ooh, makes sense,” James notes, finally piecing together who I plan on asking.

��Y/N/N, I have a proposition for you.” I place my palm to the small of her back to guide her away from the group. 

“Oh no,” she expresses a tad worriedly. 

“It’s nothing bad!” I defend with a chuckle, though her reaction is fair considering the amount of trouble I've gotten her into over the years. 

“You said that last time and last time I got covered in poison ivy!" She reminds. 

“The Spring Ball,” I state. 

“Yes?” She inquires with a raised brow. 

I can feel the eyes of James and my other friends from a few feet away. Their frequent murmuring is hard to ignore. 

“Go with me,” I request to Y/N plainly. 

“Mmm," she thinks it over a moment. "Nope." 

Wait, what? 

“And why not?” I frown. 

“Because,” she shrugs and starts back toward our friends. 

I grab her wrist, bringing her to a halt. “Is this because of the dragon joke? I told you I was kidding!”

“Nope,” she replies purposefully vague. 

I release her wrist and she strolls back to our friends. I look to Evans for answers and she shrugs. 

“I know nothing,” she tells me as Y/N locks arms with her before walking off. 

I'm left surrounded by my fellow Marauders, watching in awe as my girl, my girl walks away from me. 

"What the bloody hell just happened?" I ask to answer who can answer. 

James places his arm over my shoulders. "Dunno mate, guess she's not so much "your's" as you thought," he laughs. 

"Oh really, huh?" I playfully shove my best friend in the chest to get off of me. "Well I think otherwise! I'll prove it too. By this weekend, Y/N will say yes." 

_________________________

Y/N

For most of the afternoon, I hide away in the library to study for a potions exam. Lily is supposed to meet hereafter her class. If I didn't have Lily as my friend/free tutor, I don't know what I'd do. 

"Hello, Love." 

The sound of Sirius's voice interrupts my studying. Then, a pair of lips meet mine. The kiss feels almost taboo with its intensity in such a public setting. Nevertheless, I embrace the affection. Sirius is like a drug that I can't get enough of, that I can never satisfy. 

He parts from me but lingers mere inches from my face. 

"Hello to you too," I greet with a pleased grin. 

"You look phenomenal," he compliments as he moves to sit beside me in Lily's seat. 

"Sirius, that's-" 

"Go with me!" He doesn't hesitate to ask me again. 

"Nope," I answer, unfazed, as I return to my studies. 

"Why not?!" Sirius whines, fussing like a young child. 

"Because!" I laugh, isn't it obvious? 

"Oh yes, that's a fair argument! Go on!" He mocks. 

"This is an argument, I just don't feel like going!" I giggle, trying my best to focus on my school work. 

When Sirius is around I never fail to get distracted. 

"But everyone's going!" He drags out. 

I close my book and face the jet black haired boy with similarly dark eyes. He's so pretty it's annoying. 

"So if everyone jumped off a cliff you would too?" I raise a brow. 

"If James did it, yeah," he shrugs nonchalantly. 

"Oh, dear Merlin," I mutter under my breath as I face the table again. 

Sirius shifts closer to me. I abruptly feel his warm hand glide up my thigh from the knee and I inhale sharply. 

"So you'll shag me, but you won't go with me to a ball?" He purrs in my ear. 

Sirius dangerously slips his fingers under the fabric of my skirt. I swallow hard, glancing over at Madame Pince as she sits behind her desk reading a book. 

"You know, we're really breaking gender stereotypes right now," I laugh nervously as he continues his pursuit. "Usually, in a friends-with-benefits scenario, it's the girl who begs for more from the guy. Look at you being revolutionary!" 

"Spring Ball, you and me, a bottle of firewhiskey, trip to the Astronomy Tower after," he smirks, rubbing his hand up and down my inner thigh. 

"Sounds real romantic," I sass breathlessly, as I try to remain relaxed. 

"Oh, you want romantic?" He raises a brow with a smirk. "I can make the Room of Requirement look real nice." 

"Knowing the students of this school, I feel like you're not the only one with that idea," I insinuate jokingly. 

He leans forward, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Y/N, sweet, kind, charming, beautiful...” He lowers his lips to my neck where he knows it'll make me squirm. 

"Sirius," I mutter his name warningly as I keep a sharp eye on the librarian. 

I bite down my lip and melt into the sensation of his soft lips on the base of my neck. He lifts his head to meet my gaze proudly.

 "Y/N, will you please do me the honor of escorting you to the ball?" He grins. 

"Ye-no," I nod slowly, pursing my lips. 

"You're lucky you're so damn hot," he pecks my lips. "Otherwise I'd kill you." 

"I'm so flattered," I tease the boy with a giggle. 

"As you should be, Darling," he leans in again and kisses me. "I will convince you to go with me," he assures against my lips. 

"Looking forward to it," I mumble. 

"Okay, I have to go before I distract you further," he reluctantly pulls away. "I'll see you tonight!" He rises from his chair to head out. 

"But I have-" 

"Nope," he holds up his hands before I can decline. "You and me, us, Room of Requirement at seven sharp." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," I wave my hand dismissively as I prepare to return to my studies. 

"Oh yes you do," he purrs and leans down to peck my lips with a smirk. "Bye, bye, Baby." 

"Later," I wave goodbye to my friend. 

As the boy strolls out of the library, he salutes Madame Pince. "Madame, always a pleasure." 

I snicker quietly to myself, and as though he could hear me, Sirius turns around and sends me a wink. 

It's almost ironic that he's named after a star considering that's exactly what he is, he's a bright, unique, light. I look at him and music plays in my head. Is there something wrong with me? Sirius and I have been best friends since First Year. Five years later and we're a little more than friends, but not dating. It all started during our Fourth Year, Halloween night. We both got drunk at the Gryffindor party and well... one can guess. Ever since then, we've acted as though we're dating, but neither of us has said it out loud. Sirius and I have hooked up with random people since then to keep it casual as we agreed. Yet, in the last year, we've both stopped. Neither he nor I have mentioned that fact. I'm just assuming he has hooked up with other girls and hasn't told me or he has his eyes on someone but is waiting. I've tried to conjure up the emotion to show interest in another boy, but I haven't felt anything toward anyone except Sirius in the last two years. Drunken hookups have happened, but they don't mean anything. With Sirius, it's not supposed to mean anything either, yet it feels different. It feels right if that makes sense. It's comfortable yet never boring, nothing about us is boring. I'm not sure what I want or what to make of it. All I know is I'm more comfortable where I am than where I would be if this were to end. I rather be his 'something' than nothing. 

____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @hyperactiveravenclaw

[softcallofdutyimagines]

How Do I Love Thee? | Knight!Weaver x Princess!Reader | Medieval AU | Chpt. 1

Summary:

The day has finally come. Your bodyguard, the man you've trusted with your life since the day you were born, has reached the age of retirement. Being the only child of your royal parents, the King and Queen are quite keen on keeping you safe, so naturally a new one must be selected. When the dust of the tournament settles, a champion is chosen, one far younger and stronger then the last...

In an age full of tales of handsome men in shining armor and chivalrous heroes of great courage and honor, could you be in for a forbiden love story of your own?

Tags: Slow burn

Warnings: None, except for a small fight scene involving mentions of blood

“Goodnight my Lady”, your lady in waiting bows her head politely as she exits your chambers, closing the heavy wooden doors behind her with a soft thump. Her footsteps recede off into the night down through the thick stone corridors as you lay awake in your downy bed. Two sconces glow faintly in the night, providing just enough light for you to navigate the large, dark room.

Once you’re sure you’re alone, you grab your small candle and pad across the cool stone floor to steal some light. It catches quickly and you’re off once more to your desk. You pull out your poetry books and studies to retrieve a small leather bound notebook. It contains all sorts of things like sketches and sonnets that you've penned, but most of all it’s filled with your musings of the day.

You tap your quill on the edge of the inkwell and set its point to the parchment.

Today has been a rather sad one indeed. Your old guardsman has retired from your father’s service, the very same man who’s protected you and your person since you were but a little girl. He’s much like a grandfather to you in a way, and it pains you very deeply to see him leave you. Your father has tried to comfort you with the promise that a tournament will be held the very next day to get you a new guard as soon as possible, but the absence of a knight isn’t what troubles you.

You sniffle, a tear threatening fall from your eyes as you pause, recalling a lifetime of memories and yet being forced to let them go. Gathering your strength with a deep breath, you write the final words you old guard left you with:

“Be brave, my little Princess. I know you can”

At last you write that you are not looking forward to tomorrow and that you expect to be quite beside yourself. It’s all you can write before the despondency overcomes you again.

Being the Lady that you are, you retrieve one of your ever present nearby handkerchiefs and dry your eyes. You set your journal back into it’s hidden home and restore your books to keep it safe. With the desk returned just as it was, you tiptoe back to bed and blow out your candle. Moving aside the velvet drape, you think one last time on your faithful old guard, remembering all the memories of your childhood you shared as you climb back under the sheets.

Tomorrow is a new chapter for the both of you, you suppose. You hope his story ends sweetly.

---

The tournament begins with much fanfare and ado as the festivities kick things off. You’re sitting pretty in a lovely silk gown between your mother and father, both equally dressed up. There’s games and feasting and music and dancing… All the things something of this magnitude should include.

And, as you predicted, you’re quite bored indeed.

As yet another jaunty reel plays from the minstrels, you can’t help but roll your eyes and look onwards. Past the castle grounds, past the village, past the fields and farm lands… Way, way out in the distance to the forest and mountains.

That’s where your soul lies.

Being the Princess is all well and good, but in truth, your heart yearns for nothing more than to simply be free. Even if all that’s out there is more grass and trees, just as there is all around you, oh what you’d give for the chance to see it. To touch the grass and leaves you’ve never seen before. To feel and smell the wind in it’s wild, untamed stomping grounds. Some days you dream of just running away, but…

Well, your guard would never allow it. And, here you are, getting assigned yet another figure to keep an eye on you in the name of your father.

A blast of trumpets shatters your daydream as your attention is called back to present. The royal scribe stands on a podium, announcing the main attraction at last. He reads off a long, tiresome list of names “Sir this and that”, “Lord ho hum”, ugh… At least the fighting should be entertaining, you suppose.

There are several rounds and three main competitions: Jousting, Dueling, and Archery. Score will be kept and knights slowly eliminated until a final two are left, at which point, the two will engage in a duel and may the best man win.

Admittedly, you tune out for the first several rounds until the riff raff and washed up old timers are sorted out. Not as though you have any say in the matter, but you pick a few favorites and follow their progress through the competition. Although in all honesty, you pick said favorites by their horses and the colors and patterns of their coat of arms.

However… One knight in particular has caught your eye both in skill and trappings.

His coat of arms features a fierce looking tiger and swords, the style of which tells you his family hails from somewhere out east, and his horse is a lovely dusty grey. Even you must admit, his skills so far aren’t bad either. He’s coasting through the competition with little difficulty and, even with the few close calls here and there, by the time he’s made it up to the final rounds you would almost dare to say you have your heart set on him.

Silently you root him on as he tiredly batters through opponent after opponent, somehow maintaining strength and endurance up until the very last man. A few breaks have been called in between rounds up until this point, but now the last two will be taking a long recession before the final fight.

Food and drink and dance is had once more for peasants and nobility alike while each knight gathers their strength, but you can’t keep your mind off the excitement of the final duel...

When at last, the time has come, you’re on the edge of your seat.

Once more the scribe’s voice rings out over the silent crowd as the two men ready themselves in opposing corners of the muddy sparring ring, “Fighting for the honor of being named the new protectorate of the Princess, Sir Weaver and Lord Fletcher will face each other in armed combat! The rules are as follows-”

The scribe's voice fades away, and immediatly your mind begins to wander.

Sir Weaver…

The name rolls off your tongue as you watch him pace and stretch in his corner of the ring. He’s armed with a sword and shield, classic weapons of the heroes of old, just like in your books and sonnets… His shield is tall and rectangular, with that very same tiger proudly emblazoned on its front. He gives his sword a few test swings and even from here you can hear the ringing of razor sharp steel.

His opponent wields a smaller shield and a rather nasty looking mace, a classic for smashing heads and armor alike. Thankfully you won’t have to bear witness to such violence should Sir Weaver lose, but you don’t much fancy the idea of such a savage weapon anyway. It may have its place in battle, but it doesn’t seem very… Heroic.

After far too much more courtly addresses, a trumpet sounds to begin the fight.

The Lord charges the Knight, mace raised to strike, as Sir Weaver stands his ground like a tower of strength. He deflects the blow easily, as well as the few more that come after it. A smart tactic, you observe, letting the opponent come to him and tire himself out. Lord Fletcher seems to believe that he can smash right through the great steel shield as that’s where most of his strikes end up landing. Sir Weaver’s tiger is quite battered, but holds out well.

All the overhead motions of the mace swings prove to be a disservice soon enough though, as the knight stabs his way through chinks in the armor here and there as the Lord slowly grows more and more weary. His movements become sluggish and desperate, a lethal combo, and before long the mud is mixed red with the wounds of the mace wielding Lord.

To his credit, he fights to the bitter end, but the duel is called before too much blood is shed.

A roar of approval goes up from the crowd. Amidst the cheering and the fanfare, Sir Weaver bows politely before the royal family and makes to exit the arena. You cock an eyebrow. Curious, you would’ve expected more of a show given the grand odds he just overcame.

Regardless, you clap politely and watch the two men exit the ring. It’s nearly night by now and there’s still more to do. Tomorrow your new knight will be sworn in and given his orders and hours and so forth… But for now, you have many things to tell your journal tonight.

---

The next day begins as it always does. You wake up at sunrise. Your chamber maid helps you dress, pick out your outfit for the day, and style your hair. Finally, you’re ready to join your family and the court for breakfast. A few questions come your way asking about whether or not you’re excited to meet your new knight and what you thought of the tourney yesterday, but otherwise you’re ignored as usual.

When breakfast passes, the court moves on to the throne room. It’s easily the most illustrious room in the palace, save for perhaps a few that suit your particular tastes. Small windows sit high above near the vaulted ceiling, raining in sunlight and fresh air from far above. Giant chandeliers hang proudly, holding a dizzying host of candles. The walls are blanketed in gorgeous tapestries, some of which you’ve had the honor of assisting in the weaving of. They’re laced with threads of gold and silk, and when they catch the light just right, they give off an ethereal glow, bringing the stagnant scenes to life.

The typical court proceedings will begin shortly, but first the matter of your new bodyguard is to be addressed. Soon enough, Sir Grigori Weaver of, so on and so forth… is announced to the court. Finally, something interesting for the day. You sit up properly in your throne and take in the sight.

He’s dressed in an appropriately fancy set of gambeson and hose, clearly his armor is off to be under repairs. His one arm hangs freely, the other rests on the pommel of his sword, and he takes a brief look at his surroundings. He carries himself with purpose and a serious air which could almost take a turn for intimidating given a closer look. His face is rough with prickly stubble contrasted by a long, smooth mustache and hair combo. Between the two lies no feature of note aside from a grizzly scar running across a cloudy white, useless eye.

Sir Weaver nods towards you and your mother, then offers your father a proper bow, “My liege”

Your father smiles, and you can already tell you’re about to be stuck with this man whether you like it or not. He tells the knight to rise and after a brief exchange of greeting, Sir Weaver is sworn into your service complete with the whole ceremonial nonsense.

You rise and come forward, standing just a few steps above him on the throne platform. He hands you his sword and kneels before you. Without the help of any prompting, you lead him through the oath phrase by phrase and at last you tap either of his shoulders with the flat of the blade. To seal it all, you extend your hand with your signet ring.

“Thank you, my lady”, he takes your hand softly and kisses your knuckle, “I am yours”

He rises and accepts back his blade while you return to your throne. Your father makes arrangements for a whole new suit of armor to be commissioned for your knight, after all, his safety is your safety, and so forth. But for once, you don’t mind the droning on of court business.

It gives you some time to hide your blush.

[jinxxedwammys]

Ok hear me out. I’ve listened to “Sway with me (slowed)” by Cytus II and I have this whole imagine of the reader at a masquerade ball as an undercover agent, and as The Wammy Bois (preferably L or Near) S/O or crush. Well the situation turns for the worst and L (or near) rushes out into the party (he was originally watching on cams) to get a hold of the situation to either like confront the Bad Guy or just protect the reader. Idk I think about it when I listen to the song. Love your writing btw

Aww thanks anon, I'm glad you like my writing! And damn, I like this one a lot! This calls for a fic. Thanks for requesting! (Not me accidentally making this somewhat like that ball scene in Black Butler.. oof)

For this I chose L and decided not to do Near, I hope that's okay.

Warnings: Mentions of human trafficking, Main antagonist being a creep, daggers.

(Image from some wallpaper site and very lightly and badly edited with befunky)

The night was young, the sun had only just set below the horizon plunging the city into darkness. At 8PM this night there was a masquerade ball at a very wealthy businessman's mansion. As all the high society guests exited their limousines and luxury cars escorted by servants you stood staring at the lavish mansion.

"I feel so out of place here... Do I really blend in enough?" You quietly asked Watari who stood beside you as your "servant". You shifted uncomfortably and looked to him for an answer.

"Yes, of course you do. You fit in very well. Please do not worry, I'm sure you will be alright in there." He bowed before reentering the drivers seat of the vehicle you'd arrived in. You took a deep breath before carefully ascending the marble stairs leading to he door. Before you could be noticed by anyone in particular, you placed the earpiece you had been provided in your ear disguising it with your hair.

Unlike the other guests, tonight wasn't about enjoyment or entertainment for you. You were assisting with an investigation into one of the high class men attending this party known as Daniel Grant. He had been suspected of human trafficking, though it seems he had been doing more than just that. A recent investigation by the private investigator known only to the public as L suggested that he may potentially be behind multiple murders in the area. As it happens, you were the lynchpin in solving this case and getting the evidence needed to put Daniel Grant and all involved behind bars.

He seemed to target young people between the ages of 18 and 25. As it happens, you were perfect for that role. You were also a police officer. So only two weeks ago, you had been asked to assist the one and only L. Of course, when he contacted you, you were overjoyed. Finally, something more interesting than petty crime! But now, as you entered the lavish mansion you were far less confident than you were when you initially joined.

You knew L was watching the camera feeds from the CCTV system, but it still didn't calm your nerves. You nervously approached the table where the guest sign in book was placed, carefully signing your alias. Then you made your way to the ballroom where the party was held. You took a deep breath and adjusted your mask before entering into the room.

Inside, everyone was chatting amongst themselves every single person dressed very formally, women in beautiful ballgowns, men in fancy suits. Every single one wore a masquerade mask, some plain and simple, some adorned with gemstones, lace and other ornate designs. Everyone went silent when one man tapped his glass with a fork.

"Hello everyone, I'd like to thank you for attending tonight. Thank you all for celebrating my niece's 20th birthday with us" He motioned to a young girl blonde girl wearing a dark pink dress with a black lace mask. Everyone gave a short applause in response. "Please enjoy yourselves" He bowed slightly. You hadn't known this was a birthday party beforehand. You wondered what Daniel Grant had to do with this girl. About 20 minutes into the party, you decided to check in with L as you hadn't heard a thing from him since you arrived. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

"L are you listening?" You asked quietly and waited for a response.

"Yes, I am, is anything wrong?" He asked. You shook your head before you realized he couldn't see you right now, there were no cameras in the bathroom.

"N..No, I haven't seen Daniel yet either... I was just making sure you were there." you hurriedly replied.

"Mmh, I'll guide you to him if you would like, I can see him on the cameras." He replied clearly eating something.

"Okay, please do!" You left the bathroom and reentered the ballroom doing your best to hide the fact that you were scanning the room for the suspect. L's voice came over the earpiece again, this time instructing you to look for a woman in an emerald green dress near the center of the room. You entered the crowd of guests. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw the woman L had been talking about. She was in fact talking to Daniel Grant. They seemed to know each other. You stayed back, waiting for L to say something.

"Seems like you found them, stay back for a little while, I'll tell you when to approach" He said. You of course didn't respond since you were surrounded by others in earshot. You casually checked your pockets and approached another guest making small talk to kill time. You had taken your eyes off of him for a second, and the moment you looked back, the niece was talking to him. L seemed to notice as well.

"Daniel is currently talking to an important innocent. Please intervene now." You looked around the room before casually approaching the two.

"Hello, I came to wish you a happy birthday!" You said, sort of putting yourself between them. She nodded, thanking you and went back to talking with Daniel. You sighed in annoyance, but persisted.

"Hey, could you by any chance show me to the washroom? I've been looking for it and I just can't find it" You asked. She looked at Daniel, excusing herself from their conversation before leading you to said washroom.

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you... Oh.. and I think it would be best if you stayed away from that man." She gave you a quizzical look.

"Why is that? He's one of my mother's friends." She asked. You were kind of shocked. Another detail L had left out. You questioned if he trusted you before ultimately banishing the thought. Of course he trusted you. You wouldn't be the one confronting the guy if he didn't.

"Just trust me, he's no good" You warned. It was clear that she didn't take your words seriously whatsoever. She scoffed and left. Now what? You wondered. And just like that, L's voice came through again.

"I want you to talk to him, try your best to get him away from her." Immediately you left the bathroom and made your way back to the ballroom again. By now, there were a few people dancing. Unfortunately Daniel seemed to be one of them, but you had a plan. Dance your way to him! You started off with a tall man with a purple tie, then to an average height lady in a light blue dress, then a lady with a fuchsia pink dress, and so on until finally, you were dancing with Daniel.

"You're the person who rudely interrupted my lovely conversation with the guest of honor" He observed. His voice was cold, though there was a tinge of intrigue.

"And what of it?" You sort of snapped. He smirked, it sent chills up your spine. You backed away slightly, but he closed the distance.

"Oooh, I like them feisty" He growled into your ear. You couldn't help your face twisting in disgust at that.

"Why don't we go... somewhere more private" He suggested. It was then that L's voice came on through your earpiece.

"Go with him, I want to see what he'll do" You gulped. You really didn't want to go anywhere with that creep. But L's orders... You nodded and Daniel led you upstairs. You both stood in front of a bedroom door. He opened it, directing you to go inside. As you did, his eyes seemed to undress you. It was then that he took out a dagger holding it to your neck.

Meanwhile, L sat in his temporary investigation headquarters observing your actions. He had just stuck a piece of cake in his mouth when you had been attacked. He had not expected Daniel to be armed. You were in grave danger and he knew it. He immediately stood up, the fork clattered to the ground and the plate the cake had been on shattered as it hit the floor. He didn't care.

"Y/N, hang in there, I'll be there soon" he quickly said to you before rushing to get Watari and speed off to the party. The car ride seemed to take forever. Every second of it, he watched and listened. Daniel seemed to be just threatening you for the time being, but at any second, he might just kill you. The very second they arrived, L clumsily jumped out of the car and rushed up the stairs to the manor, past the guards outside and up another flight of stairs to where you were.

L had for the first time in his life, brought a gun in case things got even more ugly, but he doubted he'd need it. Daniel didn't seem like the type to be bold enough to kill in front of another person. Even so, he gripped the gun before entering.

"Let them go!" L commanded. Daniel's head snapped in his direction.

"Get out, this is none of your business" Daniel said, turning back to you.

"It is my business, that happens to by my significant other you have there." You blinked. Significant other? Is he acting? You thought before mentally reprimanding yourself for thinking that now. L moved a little closer.

"Oh.... She is... I'm sorry" Daniel backed away. It was kind of comical how he looked like a scolded dog. You stood up and walked towards L, glancing back a few times at Daniel to ensure he wasn't going to get violent again. And without another word, L led you out of the manor to safety. Though there was one question burning in your chest. When you were safely in the car you decided to voice it.

"L... Do you actually like me?" L turned to you, his expression was completely unreadable.

"Yes" He said almost monotonously. But that was good enough for you.

[juminly]

Hellooo 🌸 I was wondering if you can write a few IkemenVampire headcanons related to ballroom dancing? If I would choose characters it would be Comte, Theodorus, and Napoleon?

Hello there! ❤ This ask literally made my day! I absolutely adore ballroom so I’m just gonna let my imagination run and take you on this ride with me! 

PS: A lot of the dance styles that I will be mentioning are a bit more modern so kindly disregard the historical/timeline accuracy. This is just a speculation of what they would enjoy and also portray a certain aspect of their personality (in my humble opinion). Also, I am no expert in ballroom dancing so there might be some inaccuracy. 

For each dance style, a song was chosen. Feel free to play it, close your eyes and imagine yourself dancing with your suitor. Comte de Saint-Germain 

Was there any type of ballroom dance this man couldn’t do? The answer is no. But, for the sake of writing this, I’ll be choosing one… try to.

This man is the incarnation of grace and the sight of him alone is enough to make one whimper. He will have you joined by the hip, his shoulders and back in perfect posture while he holds you up and he anchors you to him. He guides you around the dancefloor and it’s simply effortless. What other than a slow waltz?

It wouldn’t even matter if you fumble on your feet, he guides you across in a seamless trajectory as you danced around the dancefloor as rhythmically as the serene ebb and flow of a river.

He smiles down at you and watches how your hair just floats around you, making you appear like an otherworldly creature, an apparition of something holy and sacred. You were his treasure and he held you in a way that foretold his deep adoration for you.

His loving gaze would linger on your face, watching how your cheeks grow light shades of rose by the second from the movement but also the intimacy of his embrace.  

The slow tempo of the music and the dance gives him all the time to marvel at your beauty and appreciate your presence with him while his feet glide almost thoughtlessly on the ground, seemingly carrying you around.

The moment you would step onto the dancefloor, you were both captivated with another, living in a world where only the two of you existed. He would lean down and whisper softly in your ear, his voice velvety low “Vous êtes absolument ravissante, ma chérie.”

And while he danced with you, he would recite to you the most romantic of words, written by him and by other writers.

He quoted Honore de Balzac to you, his husky voice seeping into your skin and propelling your entire existence into a frenzy of heightened emotions. Anything he said to you in French, he would later on translate it, rendering you even more speechless.

“Tu as tout ce qui me plaît. Tu exhales pour moi, le parfum le plus enivrant qu'une femme puisse avoir, cela seul est un trésor d'amour. Je t'aime avec un fanatisme qui n'exclut pas cette ravissante quiétude d'un amour sans orages possibles. Oui, dis-toi bien que je respire par l'air que tu aspires, que je ne puis jamais avoir d'autre pensée que toi. Tu es la fin de tout pour moi.”

Comte simply made it hard to breathe.

Song choice would be: Earned It (Slowed) by the Weekend.

Another style of ballroom dance that this man would absolutely excel in: the Argentinian Tango.

Rest assured that the moment you slide your body against his, his hands traveling and tracing the curves and lines of your body, your legs twining with one another and he’s got you ensnared and he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

Theodorus Van Gogh

You cannot deny that this man exudes a unique sense of elegance.

Yes, he can be an asshole sometimes, pretty blunt and seems inconsiderate and selfish but he is much more than that. First impressions shouldn’t last for long and they don’t especially when you get to know more about him.

Considering his upbringing and his line of work, this man possesses almost envious poise and frustrating charm (you just can’t resist him even if you want to smack his smug handsome face).

You absolutely wouldn’t expect it from him but this man knows how to have fun and he takes you on an exhilarating ride. Out of all dances, the one he enjoys the most is the quickstep.

What was most surprising was the excitement that oozed from him and the challenge in his eyes.

This was such a different side to him but boy, this man knows how to show a girl some good fun (especially if he is completely smitten with her… and you were the lucky girl).

He is surprisingly quick on his feet and his smile would stretch across his face while he guides you around, one chassé after another, as he twirled around

It’s a wild ride, your heart hammering hard in your chest with the melody booming around the room and your laughter echoing so harmoniously, blessing this man with the most pleasant sound he’s ever heard.

The music is upbeat and his feet meticulously shuffle with exquisite coordination and fluidity as he literally floats on the ground, running across the ballroom like he owned the damn place.

He would definitely tease you and call you a clumsy Knabbeltje when you would trip. However, he’d just hold you even tighter and continue moving like a marionette controlled so skillfully.

He secretly loves the fact that you have to rely on him to guide you and teach you the steps. He wants to be able to share these moments of happiness with you and create more of them too.

He looks liberated and carefree, like the world is his for the taking as long as he has you in his arms. You never thought you would ever see such an expression on this man’s face but there are so many sides to him that the world has yet to see.

Song choice would be: The World Is Mine by Hooverphonic. (and with you, he feels so divine)

On a more sensual note, this man doesn’t give an absolute damn. He wants to claim every single inch of you, your bodies flush against one another and touching you even where his hands cannot reach.

What other than the bachata? If you still weren’t physically intimate with one another, you would definitely know, feel and see how intensely this man craved you. His gaze would be heavy with yearning and his touch and movements beyond tantalizing.

You had absolutely no idea that Theodorus could roll his hips like that. The moment he did, he smirked as you bit your lips, clearly affected by his very obvious ministrations.

It made your heart flutter and your skin grow hotter as your desire and need for him would heighten with every beat of the music.

This melody and vibe of this song absolutely describes the rise of emotions and the slow burn of desire that would eventually consume you: Crazy (Bachata Remix by DJ Karui) covered by Daniela Andrade.

Napoleon

What else would you expect from the former Emperor of France? A dance that is inspired by the military: the Paso Doble.

The movement of your bodies was fierce, a battle of dominance between lovers, the collision of unbridled lust and love fused into one.

Your eyes locked on his, unable to look away. He wouldn’t even allow it, even if you wanted to. His eyes were gleeful and his smile was almost diabolical as you paced around each other, linking your arms together as you pushed yourselves against one another and pulled away.

There was no telling who was the predator and who was the prey and it made it all the more exciting… undeniably exhilarating.

You could feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins while your heart pumped loudly in your chest, almost to the point of aching, your heartbeats ringing loudly in your ears.

The atmosphere around you was dense and the tension was so tangible and almost unbearable. Every moment your bodies would meet, the inexorable need within you was too hard to ignore and it threatened to make you crumble.

The moment one of you backed down, the other would be victorious and you knew that Napoleon was starved for victory, his eyes already feasting on you the way he would when he’d make love to you.

He loved to see you display such strength before a fighter such as himself. You were astonishing as you challenged him head-on and your dances (fights) would always end with a searing kiss.

Song choice would be: Hisoka’s Theme by Yoshihisa Hirano

Feedback and comments are much appreciated ❤ I hope you enjoyed this ^~^ Masterlist

[chryzure-archive]

Does Jacks write? When he thinks about Chrysi, how does he describe in her in his mind? Would he jaywalk? Would he jaywalk and make Chrysi jaywalk? What love songs (or other songs) remind him of her? About what time does he wake up? Is he the type of person to wash his face with cold water because he knows hot water, although more soothing, is supposedly bad for his pores? And, to spare you from more weirdly specific questions: what's the first thing that would come to mind when someone asks what he loves about Chrysi?

I hope the ungreat vibes go away soon;;

THESE QUESTIONS HAVE ME CHOKING RN, MIRI. Thank you for sending them <333

Does Jacks write?

I don’t think he does artistically, but… actually, I don’t know if he would at all. Unless he’s incredibly drunk or otherwise out of his mind. Then, and only then, he writes sonnets. Exclusively. He burns them when he’s of the right mind, but Chrysi will sneak some of them away and hide them in a drawer with their Polaroids before he gets to them.

When he thinks about Chrysi, how does he describe her in his mind?

“Lovely and furious hellcat.” He doesn’t dare call her a hellcat out loud. Chrysi would slaughter him. Also, he’ll sometimes wax a little poetic about her eyes (“Sunrise in the center of a rose” and all that jazz). LET’S NOT OVERLOOK HIS FIXATION ON HER LIPS AND KISSES. Constantly thinking about how, though his kisses are mythically considered dying for, he’d die for Chrysi’s a million times over. Whore.

Would he jaywalk? Would he jaywalk and make Chrysi jaywalk?

The two of them walk across the street carelessly, hand in unlovable hand. When Jacks jaywalks, he doesn’t do it very carefully, but when with Chrysi, they both look both ways and BOLT.

What love songs (or other songs) remind him of her?

Jacks is listening to Kiss from a Rose by Seal on repeat while sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and thinking exclusively of Chrysi. “My power, my pleasure, my pain” ? Very much how Jacks thinks of Chrysi.

Honorable mentions:

Aglow by The Rare Occasions. It makes him think of them walking in the snow up in the Magnificent North. Disregard the fact that he was half-asleep due to briefly being a vampire. The memory is still halfway there.

Tether by Sleep State. Reminds him of the fact that he feels tethered to her, and he knows he should hate it, but he loves her too much, and now he loves being close to Chrysi too :’((

So Close by Jon McLaughlin, simply because this is the peak concept of yearning while still being incredibly close to each other and slow dancing. Enchanted still has a chokehold on me all these years later, I fear. Let Chrysi and Jacks slow dance properly pleaseeee, and let them be the prettiest couple in the room.

Also How to Be a Heartbreaker by Marina. Doesn’t she know what she’s doing to him <//3 This ruins the vibe of the other songs, but I was listening to it earlier and I was thinking exclusively of ChrysiJacks and how she toys with him so frequently.

About what time does he wake up?

I firmly believe he wakes up at 11 a.m. daily. He loves sunrises, loves the sun, but this bitch is out until long past midnight every single night. He’s not waking up any sooner. Chrysi’s already finished all the stuff she needs to do. (I will say that Jacks starts waking up earlier and earlier because he can sense that she’s not in the bed with him in his sleep. And he’s a clingy bastard that needs to be hugging his girlfriend at all times.)

Is he the type of person to wash his face with cold water because he knows hot water, although more soothing, is supposedly bad for his pores?

Yes, I think he’d wash his face with cold water, but I don’t think it’s because of its health reasons. I think he’s just dramatic (and it helps him cool down after he and Chrysi get close, but she doesn’t kiss him. He’s going to scream.)

What’s the first thing that would come to mind when someone asks what he loves about Chrysi?

That she is both ruthless and good. The combination of those traits is appealing to him, and proof that he doesn’t totally need to change who he is to be considered a better person. Not that he cares about being a better person. He just wants to kiss Chrysi.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | October 2020

Happy 28th! I probably sound like a broken record already but I have to say it again: this fandom has an insane amount of talented writers! I am in awe! Every single one of you is my hero! ♥♥♥ Here are all the 23 fics I read and loved this month:

✧ Welcome to The Rivalry | 2tiedships2 | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - enemies to lovers - rivalry - college - 19k “Welcome home!” Niall yelled, clapping his hands in excitement. “Isn’t it great?” Louis looked between Niall and the house, unsure how to respond. “I don’t understand,” Louis finally managed to say. “Aren’t we a little old to be living so close to campus?” Niall scoffed. “You’re only twenty-four for fuck’s sake. There is still plenty of partying left for us to do. What better place than one street over from where a car was set on fire after the Michigan game last year?” “Is there proof of that? Did the car have Michigan plates or something? Is there a photo I can send in a DM to Wolfie?” As if on cue, a Twitter notification popped up on Louis’ Apple watch. He had tweeted again. Or a reverse You’ve Got Mail au inspired by the Ohio State/Michigan rivalry. Featuring duplex neighbors, (kind of) enemies to lovers, and an anonymous Twitter feud between omega Louis and alpha Harry.

✧ Back to Seventeen | crimsontheory | teacher - soccer coach - 26k As a first grade teacher in a small town in Illinois, Harry’s life is pretty simple. He loves his job, is close with his family, and has a best friend he would go to the ends of the earth for. When a new soccer coach starts at the local high school, things start to get a bit more exciting for Harry. Because that coach just happens to be Louis Tomlinson; the guy Harry was unrequitedly in love with in high school. Or the one where Louis moves back to his hometown and Harry realizes he’s still not over his high school crush.

✧ Sigh for Sigh | logogram | historical - a/b/o - regency - miscommunication - pining - marriage of convenience - 11k When his father's sudden illness forces Harry to get married in a hurry, he's delighted that Lord Louis Tomlinson is the one who makes him an offer. Being married to Louis is just as wonderful as he imagined, except for one thing-- they haven't mated yet. Or the one where they're both idiots, Harry's afraid to say what he's thinking, and Louis's just trying to be honorable.

✧ We Can Find a Place to Feel Good | yeah_alright | 1960s - High School - school dances - 8k 14-year-old Harry is ecstatic to finally be old enough to experience the time-honored tradition of school dances. But with each year that passes and each dance he attends, he’s realizing they’re not all he used to hope they’d be. Especially when he can't actually dance with the person he most wants to. Maybe he and Louis can figure out their own ways to keep dancing, anyway.

✧ At Risk, I Fold | clare328 | canon compliant - established relationship - angst - emotional hurt/comfort - miscommunication - anxiety - implied/referenced alcohol abuse - 15k 2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

✧ Carry These Feelings | LadyLondonderry | fae Á faires - established relationship - magic - 3k Harry is one of the fae, and has to return to Court once a year to please the Queen. He makes a detour on his way home to Louis. Two weeks and I'll be home.

✧ Hung Up High in the Gallery | lovelarry10 | friends to lovers - slow burn - pining - 14k "Louis, lay still!” Louis sighed loudly, and Harry watched his chest puff out as he inhaled deeply, the breath he let out loudly making Harry’s curls shift. “I am, stop being so fussy. Can I see yet?” “Nope,” Harry remarked, smiling to himself. “I’m doing your chest next. Shit, this is going to look so good, Lou. Your tan and these colours… why haven’t we done this before?” “Because we haven’t been this drunk in a while, and it never occurred to me until tonight?” ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ When Harry’s best friend, Louis, comes to support him at his art show, he decides they need to do some celebrating afterwards. How fast do the lines between friends and lovers get blurred ... or better, get painted?

✧ Love you in the dark | Perzikje | historical - wedding night - arranged marriage - dubious consent - 10k The story of a historical wedding night: in which Louis is quite unaware as to just how clueless his brand new husband is about sex. They try their best to figure it out together.

✧ Victorian Boy | audreyhheart | historical - victorian - royalty - enemies to friends to lovers - slow burn - angst - murder mystery - 101k Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

✧ the anticipation of knowing you | sweetrevenge | strangers to lovers - neighbors - light angst - 13k Hello Neighbor! Just wanted to let you know that you were having sex so loud and scarily I called our building manager and security officer because I thought you were hurt. P.S. I sent them away when I heard you yell ‘cock’. I’m sorry that I heard that, but I wanted you to know in case they stopped by to check on you or something. Sorry! Your neighbor Louis Tomlinson in apartment #306 After Louis overhears his next door neighbor having sex, he doesn’t really expect anything but awkward hallway encounters to come from it. Instead, he’s surprised to find himself in a whirlwind pen pal relationship with the sweet, albeit loud, baker next door.

✧ We'll Be All Right | dandelionfairies | married couple - accridents - 13k Harry is performing his one night only show in LA but there are four very important people missing.

✧ The Last Song of Your Life | reminiscingintherain | famous/not famous - Rays of Sunhsine - homophobia - 21k As Harry glanced around at all of the faces, he froze as a very familiar pair of blue eyes leapt out at him. A pair of eyes that he hadn’t seen since before the One Direction bomb exploded. A pair of eyes that he never expected to see again. ~~~~ or the famous/not famous AU, with first love, miscommunication, interfering bandmates, and adorable little sisters.

✧ Her | jaerie | a/b/o - trans character - transitioning - dysphoria - anxiety - quarantine - 7k The buttery swipe of a high quality lipstick was almost a sexual experience in and of itself. This time a deep colour with purple undertones which drew out the emphasis of long, dark lashes and perfectly contoured cheekbones. It was a look for loose and styled curls, feeling the classy formal nightclub vibes reflected back from the mirror. The silky plum coloured slip dress would be perfect to debut. The tags still needed to be cut free from the new garment that hung in the closet, but tonight was the night to set it free. When Harry gets home, she can finally be who she wants to be. Letting someone else in always feels like a distant daydream to her... until it suddently isn't.

✧ Loving You's the Antidote | lululawrence | Stylinshaw - a/b/o - touch deprivation - hospitalization - soulmates - polyamory - anxiety - friends to lovers - no smut - 11k Nick and Harry had never been an obvious match. When eighteen-year-old Harry, newly presented as an omega, came home freshly bonded to Nick, a man nine years his elder and a beta no less, Anne had been more than skeptical and Eileen had shared some harsh words of her own. That didn’t deter them, though, and their families soon realised there really was something special about the bondmates that allowed them to work together almost seamlessly. It was only a few months later that Harry started getting sick. Or the one where Harry and Nick have been able to keep Harry's disorder at bay over the course of their relationship, but when they move to London and away from their support system, they find themselves in desperate need of help.

✧ Like A Neon Sign | reminiscingintherain | canon compliant - mentions of death - fluff - 8k Harry had always been perfect to Louis, through every age, through every stage, and in all the important ways, he was proud to have been able to witness the growth that Harry had experienced first-hand.

✧ We Had Everything | lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) | exes to lovers - getting back together - famous/not famous - 3k “You know Harry’s coming, yeah?” Louis’ fingers twitched, faltering where he was straightening the knot in his tie as he tried to ignore the false nonchalance in Zayn’s voice. He had no idea how he missed the name on the invite list, how he skipped over the initials on the small gifts, didn’t notice the elegant swirl of Harry’s name inked onto an emerald green place card. Or, Louis and Harry fell apart, and Louis' never forgiven himself. He gets a second chance at Zayn and Liam's wedding.

✧ True To Your Heart | reminiscingintherain | Mulan AU - a/b/o - 13k The world was at war with itself. In the small country of Enilenif, in a tiny, often overlooked corner of the world, young Alphas were quickly signing up to fight, desperate to protect their Omegas and their country as Aidem began to attack their borders. A few defiant Omegas tried to enlist as well, but were firmly turned away with disapproving looks by the staff in the office. Harry Styles was one such Omega, sighing heavily as he kicked at a small stone on his walk home.

✧ What the Water Gave Me | larryatendoftheday | fantasy - mermaids - long distance relationship - 29k When a mermaid crawls out of the sea to listen to Harry sing, it changes everything.

✧ it’s hard for me to go home | localopa | angst - breakup - getting back together - 5k don’t call me baby again

✧ The Prince and the Thief | jaerie | Fairy Tale - a/b/o - strangers to lovers - violence - kidnapping - threats of rape/non-con - 19k Harry is an omega prince locked in a tower and Louis is the thief sent to kidnap him. Nothing turns out as planned.

✧ Up On The Shore | wordsnnotes | Eroda AU - magic - epistolary - friends to lovers - childhood friends - emotional/psychological abuse - angst - long-distance relationship - domestic violence - 34k Magic has been outlawed on Eroda ever since President Cowell came into power, and all the magic people had to go live on the island of Stonell. Things are not looking good for Harry when he finds out he's a magician and his abilities seem more and more out of control. Thankfully, his best friend Niall's mother has the idea to put him in touch with Louis, a magician boy living on Stonell. They begin a secret correspondence and drama ensues. Or: Louis hides his feelings under sarcasm, Harry is too sweet for his own sake, everyone is a rebel, the mums are amazing, Harry's dad is a jerk, and I'm struggling to make it understandable without using normal narration.

✧ this town's just an ocean now | louistomlinsons | exes to lovers - friends to lovers - summer romance - miscommunication - childhood friends - light angst - fluff - 31k “I have really great friends. Do you remember Louis? You guys were always hanging out when you were growing up.” Harry remembers Louis. Harry remembers Louis. Suddenly, his throat feels way too dry, despite the ice cream he keeps licking at. He chokes a little on a chocolate chip before saying, “I, uh. I remember Louis.” Her face brightens. “We have dinner every Sunday. He owns the house now. His parents moved further north, and he wanted to stay here, so they just gave it over. Now if you want to worry about someone being lonely, that’s who I worry about.” inspired by watermelon sugar, featuring picnics on the beach and boys being dumb

✧ I Am the Blinking Light | dearmrsawyer | ghosts - shipwreck - 19k There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for giving me all the stubbly men

In the Offing

Chapter 17 — Hat Trick

Summary: In which our heroine believes in magic

Chapter 17 on AO3

“When you move

I can recall something that’s gone from me

When you move

Honey, I’m put in awe of something so flawed and free”

-Movement, Hozier

It had been a rainy couple of days since her trip out to the cabin with Graham. They had originally planned to meet up again and scan the area to see if they could find the Blanchard remains but the weather had prevented any chance of that. Instead, they had traded texts that included her thanking him for going on record with the paper to say she was no longer a suspect in the shooting. She had noticed a definite warming toward her by the citizens after his comments were splashed across the front page.

Of course it being Storybrooke, rumors had already begun to fly about who would take her place on the most wanted list. She avoided all requests for interviews and tried to focus on the task of finding the responsible party, encouraged every day by the positive news she received from August’s medical team.

Graham wasn’t the only one she had been texting with. As the date of the wedding drew closer, she started receiving messages from Elsa and her sister Anna, who happened to be a ball of chaotic energy that would put a toddler to shame. They were constantly inviting her over to help with this or that stage of the planning but she thought maybe it was really to make sure she didn’t disappear before the ceremony.

It seemed like the only person she hadn’t talked with was the one person to whom she actually had something to say. However, fulfilling his duties as best man had forced Killian into a last minute trip to Boston with Liam to pick up tuxedos and flowers arrangements. She had stopped by the cottage a couple of times to try to catch him, feeling that what she had to say would be better in person than by phone, but she never managed to connect.

So it was that Saturday evening under a clear twilight sky, she pulled up to the cottage. Nervously she ran her hands down her pale pink dress to smooth it as she tried not to think about the fact that she hadn’t spoken with Killian since she hung up on him several days ago. The front yard, which stretched down in a gentle rolling hill to a bluff that provided a beautiful ocean view, was transformed. There were a couple of large, white tents set up to accommodate the ceremony and the reception. Due to the heavy rain, someone had the forethought to have planking laid down in a walkway to the tents, which had also been raised on platforms and contained a beautiful hardwood floor to provide some protection from the wet ground.

As Liam had predicted, it appeared as though the entire town did show up. Waving at several people who caught her eye, she started to make her way over to Mary Margaret and David. Taking in the way their gazes never wavered from each other, she guessed that their wedding day wouldn’t be too far behind. Before she could reach them, Anna came flying over to her nearly vibrating with excitement. “Where are you going? I saved you a seat in the front row next to Kristoff.”

“Oh, that wasn’t necessary,” she protested. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself by sitting in a row normally reserved for family. Plus, if she was being completely honest, she wasn’t sure she could take being in close proximity to Killian while he was sporting a tux. The man oozed sexual magnetism in jeans so one could only imagine the allure of him in formalwear. She didn’t need a repeat of the kitchen debacle from a couple of weeks ago while the whole town was watching.

“Emma,” Anna whined with a pouty expression. “Do you see how empty the family section is? It’s embarrassing. Not to mention that Kristoff might fall asleep if you aren’t there to nudge him from time to time.”

“Fine.” She gave in easily when she sensed eyes drifting their way in curiosity. Trying to take her mind off the fact she felt like an animal in a zoo, she smiled at the other woman and said, “You look great.”

As Emma took her seat, Anna twirled in a circle and squealed, “I do, don’t I? This has always been a good color on me. I’m so glad we talked Elsa out of the all that ice blue. I mean, it’s a summer wedding. We need bold colors and lots of skin.”

“You will hear no arguments from me, babe,” Kristoff joked with a wink. As she was finding to be the case with the young couple, once they were honed in on each other she could do as she pleased because they were oblivious. Trapped by the puppy love playing out in front of her, she used the opportunity to study the lovely white roses and low lighting that showcased the tent to its best advantage. She couldn’t help but wonder how they had pulled off such an elaborate event with only days to plan.

Any thoughts she had about price tags and logistics were immediately frozen when she saw Liam and Killian step onto the stage about twenty feet in front of her. The Brothers Jones looked quite dapper and refined in their black tuxedos. Liam was calm and collected as always except for the faint hint of red across his cheeks, not even having one arm in a sling could diminish the happiness that radiated off him. Killian looked like a fantasy wrapped in a dream and dipped in chocolate.

Unfortunately, as she was feasting on him with her eyes he must have become aware of her idolizing stare. His penetrating blue gaze met hers full on for the first time in almost a week. Her heart beat out a painful thump at the emotion that flooded her but she couldn’t look away. He was perfect, from the top of his rumpled hair to the bottom of his precisely polished dress shoes. And she was an idiot.

“Geez, girl. Am I going to have to get you two a room so you don’t burn down the tent?”Startled out of her staring contest by Anna’s teasing, she looked over to see her companions watching her with matching grins. “Elsa mentioned there was something going on but she didn’t warn me that it was combustible.”

“Cute,” Emma said in tone that warned against further commentary. “Speaking of Elsa, shouldn’t you be helping your sister get ready?”

“Oh crap! I was supposed to be grabbing her a glass of water. See you guys later!”

For the next several minutes, Emma did her best to keep her gaze from wandering back to the stage even as she felt Killian’s eyes burning a hole through her. Kristoff was helpful in that regard because he was as much of a talker as his girlfriend, although in comparison he was still the shrinking violet in their relationship. The hum of conversations increased as the tent filled until the opening strains of the Wedding March began to play. As everyone stood to see the bride enter, she snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye and smiled shyly when she saw that Killian was staring back at her.

To no one’s surprise, Elsa made a beautiful bride. Her white blonde hair was styled in a complicated braid that looked soft and elegant. Her slender form was hugged by a white lace gown that looked fit for a queen. It was her serene expression that truly made her a beauty though. She had the look of a woman who couldn’t wait to start her future with the man waiting for her at the other end of the aisle.

Just like that, Emma felt tears forming. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one. There were several sniffles and weepy smiles in the tent as the pair shared their vows and promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. Liam’s deep voice never faltered and when the minister pronounced them man and wife, he didn’t hesitate to kiss Elsa soundly in front of God and everyone. And for rather longer than strictly necessary.

Laughter ringing out at the groom’s enthusiasm, the crowd began clapping as the newly married couple led the way to the reception. They were followed by the best man and maid of honor, whose heads were bent together as if they were plotting to overthrow the government. Knowing the two of them, Emma couldn’t completely rule out the possibility.

Kristoff offered her his arm to guide her into the other tent but she waved him on. She needed some time to collect herself so she continued to observe from the fringe of the crowd. The first dance was a slow romantic matter replete with loving glances and sighs. The cutting of the cake was a dignified event regardless of the taunting of some of the more rowdy members of the audience. As the band struck up a new song, couples started making their way to the dance floor. She was pleased to see Mary Margaret and David were one of the first to go, smiling at each other with the kind of fondness that would never fade.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she knew she had put off her conversation long enough. As she stepped out of the shadows, she heard a familiar voice ask, “May I have this dance, Emma?”

Shocked out of her anxiousness, she turned to find Graham standing behind her with his hand extended. He looked striking in his suit, she had to admit. Not fantasy dream chocolate level, of course, but not hard on the eyes. Putting her hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out to the floor. “I’m surprised to see you here, Sheriff. Didn’t you used to date the bride?”

Cringing a bit and screwing up his face, he looked at her through one eye. “There’s that adorable directness. It was one date, a rather hopeless affair I’m afraid.”

“Oh well, there are other fish in the sea,” she murmured encouragingly, a little concerned at the longing she saw in his stare when he looked at her. He shuffled her around the edge of the dance floor, his eyes searching hers for something.

“There is one fish that I have an interest in,” he admitted. “But I’m afraid I might be a little too late to catch her.”

With regret for the hurt her next words would cause him because somewhere along the way she had come to really like him, she confirmed, “Yes, I think you might be.”

Nodding with understanding, he shifted his glance to the front of the tent where the wedding party was currently enjoying dinner. With a rueful smile, he commented, “I’m guessing by the daggers that Killian is currently shooting my way that I have been bested by another Jones.”

Touching his cheek gently to bring his attention back to her, she teased, “Third time is the charm, my friend. To my knowledge, there aren’t any other brothers to contend with. Go forth with confidence and find yourself a lady worthy of you.”

Graham smiled down at her. The song ended but he held her an extra second, squeezing her waist affectionately before stepping back. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and swept a soft kiss near her wrist while looking at her with eyes full of laughter. “Let’s see if that brings your erstwhile suitor running.”

Shaking her head at him, she grinned at his back as he disappeared into the crowd. She started toward an empty chair a couple of tables away when she felt someone approach from behind. She knew without turning that it was Killian. The air around her electrified when he got near.

“Swan, where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to sit down and enjoy dinner, Dr. Jones. What brings you by?”

“I want to dance with you,” he stated, his gaze roaming over her like a caress. Holding out his hand, he continued, “You have the rest of your life to avoid me, love. Where’s the harm in one dance with a partner who actually knows what he’s doing?”

He really had no idea of the hold he had over her. He was still under the impression she planned to walk away. Yet there he was, reaching out to her as if her touch wouldn’t leave bruises. He may be the bravest man she ever met.

“I think I’m willing to risk it,” she whispered huskily as she eased into his arms. It was like coming home.

—

The night passed in a blur of champagne and dancing. Once Killian had her in his arms, he seemed loath to let her go, to the point of glowering at any man who approached. He did allow Liam a dance, and David and Kristoff grudgingly, but he always returned to her side as the final notes of the song played and pulled her into his arms again.

“I thought I agreed to one dance,” she teased, bracing herself one-handed on his shoulder as she tugged off her right shoe and massaged her foot. It was after midnight and the crowd had started to thin now that Liam and Elsa had run through a minefield of bubbles to the limousine that waited to take them to New York City for a mini-honeymoon. “I’m not sure my feet are going to recover.”

“Darling, if you can run down skips in stilettos a couple of dances with your many admirers shouldn’t be a problem,” he pointed out, dragging her out to the dance floor again. Willing to pay any price to continue to be this close to him, she plucked off her other shoe and tossed it gently under a nearby table. He abandoned his normal poise, wrapping his arms around her back and settling her against him in what amounted to little more than a hug. The world faded away as she rested her cheek against his chest.

The slow, romantic song continued to play in the background and he hummed the words as he swayed them gently in time to the music. She felt a tingle start at the base of her spine and work its way through her entire body. She didn’t even bother moving apart to say goodbye to Mary Margaret or Anna when they passed by to let them know they were leaving. When the band started to pack up and the caterers were tearing down tables, she observed quietly against his collar, “I think I ate too much cake.”

“You speak of the impossible,” he murmured into her hair.

“Killian,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you take me home?”

Tightening his grip a bit, he answered, “Of course, Swan, but I let Kristoff and Anna borrow my truck so we’ll have to take your car. Where are your keys?”

“No,” she replied with a smile up at him. “To the cottage.”

Eyes widening in understanding, he asked, “Are you sure? There will be no coming back from this. No more running away, no more secrets. There’ll be no getting rid of me.” He waited patiently, his face inches from hers. She thought she detected the hint of a smile forming.

“I’m ready if you are,” she promised as she went up on tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

With a predatory grin, he deepened the kiss and before she knew what he was about, she was upended over his shoulder with her eyes having a very nice view of his lower back and beyond. “Let’s sail away, love.”

Shrieking over his laughter, she asked, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I can’t have you trudging through the mud and muck in your bare feet, Swan,” he explained with a fond pat on her bottom. She felt him glide through the tent and buried her face in her hands when she heard him say good night to several of the staff as they passed by.

“And you couldn’t carry me like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Too caught up in muttering promises of revenge, she didn’t realize they were at the porch until he gently lowered her to the floor. “There you are, my lady. Safe passage to the front door.”

They were eye level with each other since he was standing on the stair below her. The blue gleam of his gaze was unearthly. His mouth was curved in a playful smile but she could tell he was nervous. She thought he was probably afraid she would run again and realized that he stopped there for a reason, as if he wanted her to commit to this and move inside on her own two feet. Taking his face in her hands, she stared at him and hoped he could see everything she was feeling. “I’m sorry. For a lot of things, really. Most of all, I’m sorry if I made you doubt me, doubt this. I’ve wanted you since before we even met.”

“I never doubted you, Swan. Not for a moment. But you are an impossible woman sometimes,” he whispered, twisting his face to press his lips to her palm.

Stepping away from him, she reached out and let her hand trail slowly down his chest. With a saucy smile, she opened the door and backed into the living room. To her surprise, he didn’t trip over himself trying to get to her, rather he followed her inside and braced against the closed door, seemingly content to drink in the sight of her.

“I’ve dreamed of you every night since you left,” he admitted, hunger in his voice. “There were times I nearly got in my truck and drove to the loft.”

At this, he moved closer. His eyes never wavered from hers. She felt as though she had lost the ability to speak. He was the only person who could do this to her with nothing more than a look. He was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his skin, smell the champagne on his breath but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he leaned in and murmured, “Tell me, love, would you have let me in?”

When she did nothing but shiver, he continued, “If I had gotten down on my knees and begged, would you have opened your door?”

His lips skimmed softly over her cheeks, then forehead, then her chin. Fleeting caresses that felt like gossamer against her heated skin. “If I had promised to be your devoted subject and do your bidding always, would you have allowed me to share your bed?”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you took your time,” she teased, her head light with desire. She had never felt like this before, this swirling, chaotic emotion that caused her to tremble. “Please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Seal the deal,” she joked weakly, biting her bottom lip as she fought against the force of the passion that rocked her.

“You do have a way with words,” he teased. “I’m afraid the deal was sealed the minute we laid eyes on each other. Perhaps even before then. Fate hasn’t always been kind to me, love, but I’ll pay whatever price is needed a thousand times over to ensure that for the rest of our lives you continue to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”

With a whimper, she gave in to temptation and closed the distance between them. The magic he weaved with his honeyed tone and bewitching words was nothing compared to how it felt when he reached down to pick her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Without breaking their kiss, he carried her to the bedroom where he proceeded to show her how much he meant every single thing he said.

—

They didn’t leave the cottage for two days and she was certain there was not a surface that wasn’t put to good use during that time. It was as if the outside world no longer existed and Emma was happily ensconced in some odd alternative universe where she was content and loved.

Eventually she emerged long enough to let Mary Margaret know she was still alive, to chat with Henry, to check in on August, and to cancel search plans with Graham. She knew sooner or later she would have to go back to the loft to collect her things if nothing else. Luckily, her slovenly ways and hasty exit from the cottage after their fight had proved useful in one regard. She had left enough of her belongings behind that she wasn’t walking around in her wedding outfit the whole time. It had done strange things to her heart to realize that he had collected all the clothes she left after their argument and neatly folded them, placing them in the top drawer of his bureau.

She noticed other signs of him making room for her in his life and, beyond that, making her feel welcome. Her preferred coffee cup was always clean and ready for her each morning. He had stocked her favorite shampoo in the shower, although how he knew it was her favorite when she never mentioned it she was still trying to figure out. He had added a couple of books to his shelves for her after a late night conversation about classics she had never had the chance to read.

Even when she had left, even when she had pushed him away, he hadn’t retreated. Not entirely. He had merely given her space to figure out what he had probably know all along...that they were good together and that needing someone wasn’t something to be feared.

So it was with some chagrin that she awoke Tuesday morning to find the bed empty. The quiet of the cottage was like a slap in the face after several blissful days of being adored. Even knowing he had to drop Anna and Kristoff off at the airport before meeting a client that morning at the marina, she was still surprised at how lonely it was. She, the woman who prided herself on her independence and self-reliance, was pining for a man after a mere five hours apart.

The wizardry of Killian Jones was limitless.

Looking over at the clock, she realized that yearning was all well and good but breakfast would be better. Taking her time to get showered and dressed, she walked out to the kitchen island to find a vase full of yellow flowers, a package of strawberry poptarts, and a note from her—whatever Killian was to her now—inviting her to join him at the marina when she woke up.

Grabbing a cup of cold coffee to go and the breakfast he left her, she ventured outside for the first time in days to find the sun shining brightly and the temperature pleasantly warm. She hastily ate her breakfast one-handed while driving to the marina with the windows rolled down. There was absolutely no traffic on the road and she pulled into the parking lot convinced that she was the only living soul in the area. Locking her car, she made her way to the last dock where the pirate ship was moored passing only one person on the way, a strikingly familiar redhead that caused her to do a double take.

Staring after the woman, she heard Killian shout. “Swan! I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

Dragging her eyes away from the retreating figure, she faced the man who was responsible for the increasingly frequent smile to be found on her lips. “Never, Dr. Jones.” Climbing aboard, she gave him a quick kiss that he seemed to take as a challenge to extend. “Was that—“

“Ariel?” Killian continued to pepper her face with sweet kisses as if supremely unconcerned that there was a Hollywood starlet wandering around the docks. “Yes, she was the client I was meeting with this morning. The studio sent her to be briefed on pirate lore. I had intended to introduce you but my little Sleeping Beauty couldn’t be bothered to roll out of bed at a decent hour.”

Snickering because they both knew why she needed the extra sleep, she allowed him to pull her into the Captain’s Quarters and promptly make her forget her own name.