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prodbymaui · 1 year

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Chasing Stars, Losing You

I'll be damned, cupid's demanding back his arrow

PAIRING: jung jaehyun x reader

GENRE: exes to lovers, slow burn, angst, slice of life, fluff, eventual smut, ceo!jaehyun (yes, we love him), model!reader, mentions of Taeyong, Yuta, Mark and Johnny

WORD COUNT: 14k+ words

WARNINGS: mentions of eating disorder, smoking, usage of drugs, self-harming, toxic relationship (?)

SYPNOSIS: When your relationship got announced, it made noises louder that anyone could've imagined. Of course it will, a pair containing a supermodel and a CEO of one of the most successful enterprise that made a name in both the fashion and business industry. But soon enough, everyone witnessed how the perfect relationship they had been envying crumbled down into tiny pieces until there's nothing left to pick up.

TAGS: @lovingvoidgoatee @jaessunflower214 @fluffyjaes @hopefulchick @clblnz @jaehyunsprincess @haebragi @lorenakaspersen @joepomonerof @sadstuffonthestreet @carelessshootanonymous-blog @iraa567 @ethelia

A/N: aaaand it's finally out! it took me forever to finish this fic as this was the longest one I've written after taking a break from writing so bare with me if some scenes seemed to be missing something. and also, this isn't beta read so excuse the grammatical errors, typos and such. anyways, enjoy reading! like and reblogs with comments are highly appreciated! <3

Walking on soft clouds, that's what you felt every second you were with Jung Jaehyun.

The industry itself had told you to fuck off and go back to little hole you used to hide at. Stomping over you and shouting you shits to make you realize that you're not fucking worthy of everything they had to offer. The modelling industry, despite you being a supermodel, had broke you into pieces more than one could've ever imagined.

But Jaehyun was there to fix you up, every damn time it happened. Jaehyun who was always there to gather you in his loving arms, whispering praises and assurance. Jaehyun who showered you with nothing but affection. Jaehyun who made you a hot chocolate with snow man marshmallows even though it's summer because he knew it was your favorite.

Jaehyun who cancelled an important meeting with a client because you called him, expressing how much you wanted to watch this movie and that day was your only free time. Jaehyun who, despite having a tight schedule, managed to come to all of your fashion shows to support you. Jaehyun who displayed your magazines in his office proudly.

Everytime he's beside you, everyone disappears together with your worries about the world. With all those giggles, cuddles and just overall having him around-- you couldn't ask for more. Jung Jaehyun was the man that you decided you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

Jaehyun was your own heart.

Your relationship consisted of right balance of public and private. You don't reveal as much on your social medias but also didn't deprived everyone on getting a glimpse of your life. Any special events that happened, they already expected either of you to post a picture of the other.

Jaehyun and you made sure that you still have the privacy you should own while also happily sharing moments with the fans. It was a decision made by the both of you.

Though it was hard to attain a free time, you two always made sure spend it to the fullest. Not by travelling from country to country, no. You spent it by being in each other's arms, feeling the warmth of one another. Bonding over watching movies or cooking together. Because for you, having the other around was enough.

Your manager even suggested that you should make a youtube channel and upload your vlogs with Jaehyun. She was so sure that everyone would be more than happy to see those videos. You shrugged and said that you'll ask Jaehyun about it.

He agreed, actually. And your first vlog was about one of your cooking slash baking chronicles. Jaehyun, much to everyone's surprise, was very good at baking while you, at the other hand, enjoyed watching him and tasting his products.

''How's the mixing going, chef?'' You giggled beside him, pointing the camera at his handsome face. Blush was evident on his cheeks, still not used to having someone take a video of him if not for business purposes.

''Hey, you have to answer my question,'' You poked his crimson cheeks and squished it with one hand lightly.

Jaehyun smiled, ''It's going fine, they're going smooth now.''

Satisfied, you diverted the camera to the mixing bowl in front of your boyfriend. It didn't took him long before finishing it up and moving to the next part which was chilling the dough.

You propped the lenses so it could face both of you and looked at Jaehyun through the screen. ''So, what're we gonna do while waiting for the dough to rise?'' You asked him with a raise of an eyebrow.

''Stare at it 'til it's done,'' Jaehyun replied with a small snicker. You jokingly shook your head and sighed in disbelief of his humor, in which he whined at. He circled his arms around your waist and buried his face on your neck, muttering something about you now have to give him kisses because you hurt his feelings.

You only chuckled at him, ''Fine, I'll give you kisses later.''

You figured that you'll just put a timelapse of you and Jaehyun watching a movie as you waited for the dough to rise. When the time came, you decided to offer rolling down the dough and shaping it to the shapes you like. It varies from simple circles to stars and clouds. After doing so, you popped to the oven and before you knew it, you and Jaehyun were already packing it to share to your friends and kids at the orphanage.

Arriving at the orphanage, you were met by kids rushing towards the both of you as if you were parents who came from work. ''Oh! careful there, Taehee,'' You softly reminded the little girl, catching her just in time.

Jaehyun sat at the floor and you settled beside him, you don't want to risk breaking the little chairs trying to fit your grown asses to them. ''Mister Jaehyun, what is that?'' The 4 year old boy, looked at the packet with shining eyes.

''This is a cookie, Taeho. You told me last time that you like them right?'' Jaehyun smiled widely with his eyes that only a fool could say that it wasn't genuine. Taeho gasped and fell to the floor dramatically, a hand over his mouth as he processed what Jaehyun said before.

''Hey, everyone, listen! Mister Jaehyun brought us cookies!'' Taeho shouted in excitement, jumping up and down. The children went from being scattered around the room to running towards Jaehyun, tackling him to a hug. Some were even kissing his face to express gratitude.

''I brought cookies too,'' You pouted at the lack of attention given, raising your little packets as well to show them. Taehee and some of the others ran to you, ''Don't be sad, I'll try yours!'' Taehee grinned at you while reaching to the cookies.

The staffs wanted to take a picture and video of both of you to show the world how genuine and kind you were to the kids. But refrained themselves because they knew you weren't doing this for publicity. So they just enjoyed watching you taking care of them, giving each child the same attention.

''Wow, who's that beautiful princess I am seeing?'' Jaehyun exaggeratedly said, rubbing his eyes with his fists to take 'double-look' to Taehee who was twirling around in front of him with a crown on her head. ''You look so pretty, Taehee!'' He complimented, even clapping his hands as if he just finished watching some high-quality theater show.

You snorted at Jaehyun's actions, finding it cute how he tried so hard to praise Taehee in every possible way. Your heart was warm watching the interactions exchanged between them. Admit or not, you had imagine how Jaehyun would be such a good father to your own children.

Snapping out of your little bubble, you turned around when you felt a little tap on your shoulder. Taeho was standing behind you, holding a piece of paper. ''Hey, what's that, buddy?'' You pointed at the bond paper in his hands. He sat on your lap and showed you a drawing, one look from it and you could tell it's a vision of a 'perfect' family.

At first, you though Taeho drew what seemed to be his desire. His want to meet his parents again and be with them. But you were wrong. Taeho took a few inhales and exhales, catching his breath.

He first pointed at the two kids, ''This is me and Taehee,'' You nodded at the mention of his twin. ''This is Mister Jaehyun,'' His finger moved to the male adult. ''And this is you!'' Lastly, at the female adult. ''I drew us!'' Taeho cheered happily.

You paused for a moment before grinning widely, ''Oh that's so cool, Taeho! You did so great!''

''Our teacher at school told us to drew our family but I don't have mommy and daddy so I drew you and Mister Jaehyun,'' He explained. You told him how you were thankful that he considered you as a family and complimented his drawing, telling him he have a future for it.

The visit ended with you bringing home the precious masterpiece of Taeho and a kiss from all the kids. It was already night when you and Jaehyun reached your apartment. Once you finished showering, Jaehyun came next.

''I saved some cookies for you at the fridge,'' Jaehyun muttered, giving you a sweet kiss before entering the shower. You only hummed at him. Minutes went by and Jaehyun went on his way to get his pajamas at the living room inside his small luggage-- getting a peak of the kitchen.

And when Jaehyun saw you throwing out the cookies he made, he said nothing.

Weeks had past by, fashion week were coming quicker that you had expected. You're booked to the brim and that was what Jaehyun was worrying about. You rarely responded to his texts, not answering his calls most of the time. He couldn't even get the chance to visit you himself as he's busy as well so he made sure to send flowers and letters everyday to your apartment.

''Oh lord, you're gaining weight, dear,'' The designer, seemingly horrified, whispered to your ears as he stared at you through the mirror, tightening the laces of your top with a struggle. You pursed your lips, of course you noticed this as well. It was the lack of exercise, you thought.

The fitting had come to an end with a sound of disappointed 'tsk's was heard from the designer beside you, a few shakes of his head and a sigh. You remained standing in front of your reflection, staring and observing your body. The man came up to your side again, holding your shoulders and smiled softly.

''Listen, dear. You already look pretty, angelic even,'' That pricked out a single thorn of your throat but what he said next poured a ton of thorns right after the relief. ''But you would suit my designs more-- no, you would be more beautiful if you lose weight. Remember what I told you before? Beauty equals to skinny. You're not beautiful if you're not skin and bones.''

And you agreed. Models who doesn't have their ribs showing through their skin have no place in the fashion industry. The clothes wouldn't hang pretty on you if there were fat getting on the way. He was right. You should lose weight.

Travelling around the city, going from places to another. It was safe to say that you were emotionally and physically tired. Even with all of those you still have to keep a good physical appearance for the paparazzis who were hungry for a snap of you at any given time.

You were done for the day and could finally sleep in your own apartment instead of sleeping on a mattress and sharing a hotel room with your manager. Sighing, you took off your shoes and hang your coat behind the door. Making your way to the kitchen to grab some water.

What surprised you was being met by the back of a man, cooking at your kitchen while humming and whistling to the music being played. You knew that back so well. ''Jae?'' You murmured under your breath but he turned around any way, with that smile of his that you love so much.

''Surprise?'' Jaehyun quirked an eyebrow, smirking at you for a second before placing down the pan at the table, which you didn't noticed was already set. ''Have a seat,'' He gestured and you did.

Seeing all the foods that he prepared, you appreciate it, truly. But you can't deny the nervousness bubbling up inside you, all those comments from countless designers and other models flashing your mind. You gulped as you remembered what they said,

''Lose some weight, will you?''

''You're getting fat, dear.''

''Skin and bones are the only acceptable thing here.''

''Fashion show or laying in your bed with all those fats inside of you?''

''God, you look awful!''

Not being able to take those thoughts anymore, you pushed the plate off the table-- the one Jaehyun was serving you his food. The plate shattered on the floor as your hands shook violently, heavy breaths to accompany your shaky eyes.

Jaehyun rushed to your side, hugging you and whispering comforting things at you like he always did. He caressed your hair while continuously planting kisses on your head, hugging you even tighter. He wanted you to feel nothing but absolute protection in his arms.

A few minutes passed and you still haven't calmed down yet. Jaehyun didn't know what else to do as you haven't panicked this long before. As you tried to control your breath, you felt something coming up to your throat when your eyes glanced at the food in front of you.

Thrashing in Jaehyun's embrace, you ran to the bathroom and threw up whatever you can. It wasn't long when you felt Jaehyun holding up your hair, helping you.

You thought about nothing but the fear of eating the food that has so many calories. Fear of gaining weight and losing validation in your field of work.

The next time you saw Jaehyun was when you came home from visiting another brand, preparing for the nearing show. ''Hi, love,'' Jaehyun greeted you with a hug, ready to smell the scent of vanilla on you but was met with a unpleasant one. ''Why do you,'' You pulled away from him in confusion. ''Are you smoking?'' He questioned with his face scrunched up, not liking the smell one bit.

You chuckled, ''What? Of course not, babe. Why would I smoke?'' You shrugged off his questions just like that, kissing his cheek before walking away to take a bath and get ready for bed.

The next morning, Jaehyun woke up without you beside him and he figured out you've already woken up. He made his way out of the room, stretching and yawning but glad that you two finally have a free time to spend with each other. What happened last night was long forgotten, maybe you were telling the truth. There's no reason for you to even lie to him, right?

Wrong, because the moment Jaehyun stepped a foot to the living room, he saw your figure sitting at the balcony with smoke surrounding you. Clearly, there was an ash tray at the table by your side and clearly, you've finished quite a few already.

He stomped towards you way, opening the door harshly before getting the cig out of your mouth and threw them on the ground. ''What the fu-- Jae!'' You stood up from your chair, shocked and eyes widened. ''Not smoking, huh? Then what is this?'' Jaehyun glared at the remains of your cigarettes that was displayed at the table.

He didn't shouted at you. He didn't forced you to say why and how you've to this point. Only accepting the fact that this was something you used as a coping mechanism.

What he can't accept was he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't bring himself to help you get out of that addictive nicotine because slowly, he was afraid to admit that he was getting deprived of time to spend with you.

Hours to days, days became weeks and weeks turned into months. It has been so long since Jaehyun last talked to you. Scrolling to your conversations only made his friends give him a pat of pity on his shoulder because of how many messages of his was left unread by you.

His father had told him that the Jung Enterprise was already nearing its peak and as the CEO, it was Jaehyun's job to reach and maintain it. But it wouldn't work if Jaehyun kept cancelling meetings just to stay at your apartment. Waiting like a puppy for you to come home, which you never did.

It must be the exhaustion in him because he supposed, if you're not gonna reply, might as well drown himself in work, right? And so, Jaehyun decided that it'll be better for him to just divert his attention.

His schedules became packed, meetings after meetings. Signing and approving papers. Moving places from one another. Jaehyun forgot what the words; 'eat' and 'sleep' meant.

Slowly, Jaehyun was able to get a taste of power. It was like he was getting suffocated by the amount of glory and yet he's enjoying that said suffocation. The pleasure he got whenever everyone praised how Jung Enterprise kept climbing up to the top, never failing even once along the way.

This was something he had been dreaming since he was introduced to their business.

And you bet, Jung Jaehyun would exchange this for anything else.

You weren't exactly sure whether to be happy now that you're once again driving back to your apartment. The apartment where you lived all alone, cold even though you're inside your blankets.

While might say otherwise, you would prefer staying a hotel rather than your 'home'. You're just too caught up with all these castings and fittings that you found your apartment a little too 'unfamiliar'. You didn't know how it started but you surely knew where this was leading to.

Because you've been here before, and you knew exactly how to deal with these. But Jaehyun doesn't.

''Oh now, what-- you're into drugs?'' A scoff behind you was heard. You knew you had to explain yourself but you can't afford. Not you've finally got your stomach to stop grumbling about hunger. You got filled without even actually consuming food inside your body. Bonus points for the euphoria you're in, making you feel like on cloud nine.

You hissed but made no effort to face him, continuing to inhale it as the smell of burning leaves infiltrate Jaehyun's nostrils. He pinched the bridge of him nose before walking to your front and throwing the blunt away. Just like what he did with your cigar.

Seeing your blunt being thrown away clicked something inside of you. Standing up, you pushed Jaehyun away. ''What the fuck is wrong with you?!'' Scrambling to search for the thrown weeds with your bloodshot eyes.

''What the fuck is wrong with me? No, what the fuck is wrong with you! Look at yourself! Are you even sleeping?! Are you even eating?!'' Jaehyun spewed out, looking at you as if you're some ridiculous human being.

You glared at him by the mention of eating, ''Why do you fucking care? Just go play in your little office or something..'' You whispered the last sentence harshly before pushing him and made your way out, immediately going to the bathroom.

There you puked even though you hadn't eaten anything for days, bunch of slimy liquids were the only ones that made it out. Just the thought of consuming those calories and gaining weight was something you couldn't bear.

Jaehyun wouldn't understand the pressure of having to stay skinny. He would never. He was born with 2 loving parents and a company for him to inherit the moment he was born. Jaehyun was surrounded by people who loves him while you only have him. Jaehyun would never understand that you don't want to gain weight.

You can't. You need to stay light. You HAVE to stay skinny in order for you to stay relevant in the model industry. You've done a lot to work your way on the top. You've already had a grip of your dream, and you would never let it slip out of your hands.

''I don't know, man. That sounds tough,'' Mark, a friend of his, tilted his head with the emphasize of 'tough'. Jaehyun had told him about the state of your relationship. Days wouldn't pass by without his mind boggling him about it.

Playing with a pen on his fingers, Jaehyun chewed on his bottom lips. ''Do you think it'll be better if we cool off?'' he said lowly and it made Mark froze. The younger took a breath and ran his hand on his face, ''Dude, I mean- it's fine to take a break once in a while and you obviously need it, yes.''

Mark looked down, ''If you think that it'll mend the crack then go for it, but if you think it'll do otherwise, might as well just- you know?''

Jaehyun's eyebrows furrowed, confused, ''Well?''

The younger sighed, feeling himself get older much faster just by having a talk with the CEO, ''What I'm trying to say is that, talk to her first. She could be going through something right now, and she might need someone to be at her side.''

Mark shook his head, giving him a dismissive gesture as he stood up to leave. The door opened at the same time, revealing Jaehyun's secretary, ''Sir? Meeting at 3 minutes,'' He reminded Jaehyun.

Jaehyun nodded, getting a few of his papers before walking towards the door with Mark following behind him.

Thinking about what the younger said, the CEO could feel himself question his worth for you. He can't give help to someone who doesn't want help, Jaehyun thought. Maybe his efforts weren't enough for you to trust him?

Jaehyun wouldn't admit it any time soon but he knew that the cool off suggestion was just something that covers what he truly had in mind.

It had been a week since you last contacted Jaehyun, ever since then, you hadn't been replying to his texts and calls. It was the epitome of unexpected but welcomed, though. Cutting him like that wasn't intentional but it sure has brought you some fresh air to breath.

Being with Jaehyun these past few weeks was very suffocating for you even when you've only spent the littlest time together. You felt your every move being watched and you actions being limited. Like a child with her parent.

You inhaled and exhaled the smoke, feeling lighter with every hit of the addictive leaves. Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease like this, no one to look at you as if judging every single step you take.

Your attention was diverted when your front door busted open and clear traces of footsteps were heard coming towards you. It was long before it revealed a fuming Jaehyun.

No words were said as he opened his phone and threw it to you without care.

''A week without having any contact with you and this is the first news that'll greet me? What the fuck are you doing to yourself?'' Jaehyun's voice was calm but his tone can be considered as harsher than the last time he talked to you.

Confusion displayed on your face as you stride towards the thrown cellphone that landed at the table, it showed an article. Without even reading the contents of it, you already knew what is was about, looking by the picture below the headlines. Big bold letters accompanied by photos taken as a proof.

Everyone aren't as innocent as they portrayed to be.

And there you are, looking shit as ever. Beside you was someone you know that held a syringe, injecting morphine to your body.

You scoffed at it, ''It's just morphine, why the fuck are they acting like nobody else used drugs?'' Jaehyun couldn't believe what he was hearing, he can feel his ears stinging with every words you say. ''Are you hearing yourself right now? Just because you've seen someone used it, doesn't mean that you gotta do it as well. Be fucking mature for once and think of your health.''

''Ah, you're done with playing as the perfect boyfriend so now you're moving to act as if you're a fucking advisor or something? like a father who 'knows the best for his daughter', huh? Is that it? Or you have an important meeting in about 5 minutes so you're getting rid of me because you couldn't fucking prioritize your girlfriend before you company!''

Every word felt like a thorn stabbing at your heart as you let Jaehyun know what he had put you through when he started to change. That you still have feeling and emotions. That you were hurting as well, just like other normal human being.

Jaehyun let out a sound of disbelief, ''That only happened when you decided it's better to focus on getting high, smoking different shits everyday than to solve things out with your boyfriend like other normal human being. So yes, maybe I did prioritized my company before my girlfriend. 'Cause even drowning myself in work gives me more assurance that I- for the least -worth something than being with my girlfriend who doesn't even wanna fucking talk to me,''

''Oh my god, stop being so fucking far up your ass!'' Screams filled the room as you threw your coat at the man in front you. He was breathing heavily like you are, gripping his hands to a fist.

The way he worded everything, it was like all of these were your fault. It was as if you took the happiness and love away from the relationship who used to be full of it. It was like you've dragged this relationship down with you, ruining both at the same time until they were impossible to fix.

''All these past months, I've been trying to understand all your shenanigans with your modelling! I even cancelled a fucking meeting with a big client for you! And now you're telling me that all I think about is myself?'' It was like venom dripped out of his mouth as he spit out the words. It hurts but you couldn't care less. You're done pretending as if you're still in a happy and healthy relationship.

As weeks passed by, you were falling deep into a hellhole. You, yourself, doesn't even know if you can trust Jaehyun to save you from it. Considering how he was more determined to bring his company to the top rather than helping you out of your cave, you presume that being with Jaehyun further brought you nothing but more pain and suffering.

Yet Jaehyun doesn't know how you both had come to this. Was it so bad for him to want the best for his company? Was it so bad for him to work on his dreams? Ever since you and him became official, his focus was only on you. So how come he became the selfish one here?

''God, that company again-- then go! The door is fucking open for you to leave anytime! I can't deal with this shit anymore. If you continue acting like a fucking God who had done everything to save his people everytime you cancel a fucking meeting, then you find someone else to roleplay with you!''

''Fine then! I can't also deal with someone so narcissistic. So narcissistic that she can't see the efforts of her man to help her because all she sees is herself and how fucking great she is-- fine! I'll fucking leave. Anywhere is better than being here with someone who can't fucking see the value of other people.'' That was the last thing Jaehyun said before walking away, closing the door behind him harshly as remains of him stayed at your condo.

Jaehyun was no longer your own heart. Instead, he was a walking hammer that smashed your heart into pieces.

Social Elite Modelling Agency had announced the break up of the infamous 'perfect relationship' involving Jung Jaehyun and their model, Y/N.

she deserves it

if I was in Jung's place, I would leave her too

she looks like she hadn't eaten for days, hope she's doing okay

Jaehyun seemed like a very good guy, what happened?

first her career and now her relationship, she always ruins everything good.

-> true, I wouldn't be surprised if she was the reason of their break up, she's the epitome of problem.

the guy was like perfect, the problem was her.

the pictures of Y/N are concerning, hope she's gonna be alright someday.

You scoffed as you slammed the newest Vogue Magazine on the table in front of you, diverting your eyes to the screen in front, followed by a small laugh of mocking, earning a look from your friend. ''THIS is what they call news? This was 2 years ago for goodness' sake!'' Your rants echoed across the room eyes burning a hole through the news casted on your computer's monitor.

''You know media. If they can't find something from the present, they'll dig up the past.'' The deep voice replied to you. Looking at the couch not far from your place, you could see the figure of the man being covered by the same magazine you've been looking at for the past hour.

Shaking your head, you expressed disagreement. ''I just don't understand why it has to be me, Taeyong.'' The said man stood up and walked towards you, sighing as he sat at the chair in front.

''It's because you're still relevant, you're still famous. Media wouldn't care about you and he who must not be named if you both aren't known up 'till to this day.'' A smile appeared on his adonis face, crossing his legs while he leaned to your table.

''Besides, you're not still in love with your ex, aren't you?'' His smile turned into a teasing smirk, eyebrows going up and down as his fingers gestured a heart. You rolled your eyes at his actions, ''Ha ha real funny, yong.''

''Kidding aside, don't pay too much attention with it. It's not worth it. People will eventually get tired of hearing the same news over and over,'' With a tilt of his head, he pointed out.

You sighed and nodded, ''You're right, not worth my time.''

Years had passed since your lowest point of life and you could say that you've learned a lot, including how to manage your own schedules and know what's better for yourself, the real and actually better this time.

After the break up, everyone witnessed how you turned into the worst version of yourself, getting off everyone's radar and suddenly being seen, looking as if you're homeless and had nothing to eat.

Everyone can't almost recognize you whenever they see the photos during that era, except Taeyong, a fellow model. The man was an acquaintance, appeared in your life way before you got into a relationship but with a busy life of both, it's rare that you two contacted.

Not until the news broke out and Taeyong happened to stumble upon it at a website. He didn't hesitated to contact you, though he failed a lot, eventually, he succeeded through a friend who knew you as well. Taeyong refused to tell you who.

It was quite a ride when the red-haired model became your best friend and help you to get through. Starting from stabling your mental health to getting your life back together. You never forget to thank him but he refused it everytime you do. According to him, your recovery was all on you and all he did was support your decisions, therefore, the credits should be given to yourself.

There was even a time where you thought of quitting modelling and start your own fashion business, he didn't even had a second thought before agreeing, gifting you art pencils and a sketchbook. That certain pad was used ever since it was bought, containing an adequate amount of your first sketches.

Taeyong, being great as ever, had become your advisor and best friend despite having a busy schedule that required travelling from one places to another.

His appearance in your life was unexpected but very welcomed and appreciated.

''Have you checked your new project?'' Taeyong asked you as he lazily laid on his back, reaching for the painted stars and moon on the ceiling even though he knew he couldn't touch it. ''I haven't, what's up?'' You don't remember checking it yet, more over remembering to plan checking it as you have quite a lot on your to-do works.

The older man let out a bored groan, ''I think it was a skincare brand,'' You hummed to acknowledge what he was saying, a gesture to say that he can continue. ''I didn't know they are putting you on commercial films nowadays, you tryna' act or something?'' There wasn't any hint of mocking, it was pure and genuine curiosity.

Shaking your head, ''Nah, agency said the company's head was a friend of our CEO, said they were asking for someone that made noises.'' Taeyong scrunched his nose and smiled widely, ''Making noises, huh? Told you, you're still famous as ever. You've always been making noises but hearing it now, I feel like a proud dad.''

Reciprocating his smile, you threw your extra lollipop at him, his favorite. ''And I will always thank you for helping me get back on my feet.''

''Stop,'' The man giggled, disagreeing. He got on his feet and grabbed your hands, dragging you with him to the door. ''Let's go, get some ice cream.''

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you went out of the bathroom, rubbing your hair gently with a microfiber towel to dry it as soon as possible. Rummaging through your drawer, you chose the comfortable yet still presentable looking clothes, deciding with a white crop top and sweat pants, topping it with a black cropped cardigan.

Just as you were putting on a simple and light makeup, your attention was caught by the knock on your front. The arch of your eyebrows furrowed as you didn't expect any visitors nor any deliveries today, a thought of someone finding out about your address crossed your mind but quickly vanished when you saw the newly dyed blonde hair of the one and only, Lee Taeyong, at the peephole.

''What're you doing here?'' Asked by you the moment the door was opened. Taeyong's small smile changed into a jokingly annoyed face, ''Hello to you too, Taeyong. How are you, Taeyong? Are you doing fine, Taeyong? That's really good, Taeyong! I'm glad that you're okay, Taeyong!'' You laughed at his reaction, giving him a light push inside the apartment, the older immediately jumping to lay down on your couch lazily.

''I was bored, I had nothing to do today,'' Grumbling, he answered your question earlier. You snickered getting your makeup and brought to the living room to finish it there, sitting at the floor, in front of Taeyong as you placed the products on the coffee table. ''Shouldn't you be sleeping, then? You always rant about not having enough time to get a proper sleep or something,'' You mumbled, touching up a few areas here and there.

''Do you think I haven't done that yet? Dude, I was asleep for 15 hours straight,'' Taeyong announced to you, emphasizing the word fifteen. You scoffed, ''So you decided to crash at my place and make a mess?'' Pointing at the messy arrangements of his socks and shoes, plus his cap which was thrown carelessly. He appeared slightly abashed with his smile, sending a peace sign and a flying kiss, earning a grimace from you.

Finally done with the makeup, you groaned in slight pain as you stood up, cleaning your things before putting them back to your room and making your way to get your shoulder bag.

''You've already made a mess but don't make more, alright?'' Warning him while you picked the shoes that matches your outfit but not that eye-catching to blend in, tying your shoes for safety. Taeyong quickly shot up, ''Wait- you're going somewhere?'' His eyes followed you as you walked around to check if you had forgotten something, going towards the door to leave.

''Obviously,'' Muttering while fixing the your face mask and cap hid your face, Taeyong scurry to wear his shoes and cap as well, jogging towards you. ''I'll come with you,'' Silence filled the air along with your stare at him, waiting for him to say that he's joking. But none was said, so you presume that he was indeed serious.

Giving you a nod with a bounce, he gestured a hand to tell you to go ahead and lead the way. So you did, closing the door, making sure it was safely locked before making your way to the parking lot of the building to use your car. You didn't hear anything from Taeyong, only following you and sitting at the passenger seat with a jolly vibe.

The only time he talked was when he asked you to play some music and where were you going. Again, you answered with a 'something', gaining a whine from you in which you laughed.

Arriving at the place, Taeyong made a face that showed a disappointment, clearly looking forward to a 'trip', not even a single thought of visiting a grocery store. You chuckled at his expression, ''What? Dude, I need to eat,'' Pointing with your lips, you told him to get a cart while you went ahead of him to start roaming around.

The blonde male would be lying if he said he didn't enjoyed the peaceful shopping-- always being surrounded with crowds and bodyguards, you two doesn't often experience this kind of comfortable vibe, so it's safe to say that this was a breather for the both of you.

It was not until your peripheral caught a sight of someone hiding in plain sight with a camera obviously angled towards you and Taeyong. You hummed, naturally showing back to it as you tugged your best friend's shirt, ''Dude,'' He furrowed his eyebrows at you, questioning your actions.

A brief widening of your eyes was all it took for Taeyong to realize what you were trying to convey, lowering his cap as he pushed the cart away from the lenses. ''Can't have a peaceful grocery shopping, huh?'' Hearing him tsked, holding you by your waist to guide you at a cashier with an empty line and quickly punched your items. Paying for the foods and drinks mindlessly with his card before carrying the bags and ushering you outside the store.

''Let's go, Yuta needs to know about this,'' The car's engine created a sound and before you knew it, you reached your agency's building and you were heading towards your manager's office.

''This is not a big deal but we're definitely gonna have a hard time shutting down the dating rumors,'' Said by Yuta while he scrolled through the news of the spotting of your apparently-- ''grocery date'' with Taeyong.

Yuta had became your manager through, again, your best friend. He was someone Taeyong trusted and knew for the longest of time so the man decided to recommend the japanese. And now, it was not only Taeyong who trusted Yuta with their whole life, but you as well. The japanese had proven many times that he was worthy of your trust plus friendship by how he protected you from further issues and how he supported you with any decisions, not without talking you down about the consequences, of course.

Yuta never pressured you about your body, never been strict about your diet and never limited you with going out with your friends and doing what you wanted. Yuta was a coworker turned into friend in no time.

Playing with your lower lip, you looked up to him, ''So, what do we do?'' A small snort was picked up by your ears beside, ''Let them think that way, it's not like dating me is bad, isn't it?'' Taeyong suggested with a smirk, earning a smack from you that made him let out a sound of pain.

Your manager only sighed at the childish sight of you and your best friend, shaking his head as he relaxed in his chair, ''Denying it immediately would only cause further suspicions, let it die down for a day or two.''

Taeyong shrugged his shoulders while you nodded. Both neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the plan.

''Can you cover up for me? The appointment?'' Rustling and a sound of engine came from the other line, Yuta's voice filled with anxiousness and worry. Nodding even if he can't see you, you agreed to do as he requested-- telling him not to worry.

You were hanging out at Taeyong's apartment when your manager called, saying something urgent came up which was why he couldn't attend the supposed meeting the the CEO of the skincare brand you were going to model for. Handling your own schedules and attending meetings weren't new to you as you've done them for a while after firing your last handler. So you were no way near of fearing to meet the clients, right?

Wrong. When something in you rang bells of warnings, you didn't hesitate to drag Taeyong with you, not even bothering to tell him where you were going. He could only thank the universe for his fashion taste and good looks that whatever he wore made him look presentable and elegant.

Reaching the building of the address Yuta had sent you, you stride confidently inside, making your way to the reception as you informed about the meeting involving your manager and the CEO. Fortunately, the lady confirmed it with no issues, proceeding to lead you and Taeyong to the elevator, you weren't sure if the employees were gawking at you or the man beside you, stifling their giggles as they stole glances.

''Damn, wonder if this is soundproof or something,'' Taeyong whispered to himself as you both stood in front of what seemed to be a door made out of acoustic plywood. Giving him a look, he almost instantly showed a smirk, knowing well that the look you were giving him meant that he should behave and be formal.

It wasn't long before the doors were pulled open, revealing a huge room with high ceiling and minimalistic designs. There were no picture frames of whatsoever, all of it were office related and some were for aesthetic purposes. The lady in charge of assisting you ushered you inside, staying by your side until the man sitting on the chair right at the center of the room turned around.

You held a breath unconsciously when the man with black jet hair faced you, confusion taking over your emotions as your brain processed the image of Mark Lee sitting in front of you, smirking as if he's in some kind of action movie.

''Mark?'' Looking at him up and down with confusion as you observed his stance. Snapping out of your bubble when you heard a snort beside you, you didn't know whether to greet him formally or informally, considering the fact that he was seated on the very chair that clearly was stated to be for the CEO. His lean body doesn't seem to quiet fit the said chair as it radiated massive intimidating vibes, something that you don't get that much from the young man.

Mark's smirk turned into a friendly smile, standing up before walking towards where you stood, offering his hand for a shake. ''Are you the CEO?'' Taeyong questioned with a quirk of an eyebrow, hands on his pockets like some gangster. You nudged him by your arm, sending him another look of warning, pursing your lips as you made a fist with your hand-- hidden from Mark's sight.

''No, he's not,'' A familiar deep voice coming from the entrance of the room rang your ears, it was so familiar that you could feel yourself froze, eyes widening with size where nervous, shock and a lot of mixed emotions were evident.

Soon, a figure of a man taller than the 3 of you made an appearance, pushing Mark lightly out of the way before sitting on where the younger was earlier. Seeing him take the chair, you've now realized why Mark didn't fit it. It was as clear as the clouds outside the building.

His tall and muscular body bent down, settling down as he relaxed against the chair. Just like what other people might say, it fit him like a puzzle. The way he sat with his arms placed on each side, legs open in a comfortable yet formal way and his eyes burning holes through your soul, making you give out answers without him, even asking the questions.

It explained why the chair seemed to have such a dominating and intimidating aura, it fitted its owner. To say the least, it was like the king was finally placed on his rightful throne.

''Take a seat,'' With a nod and a motion of his hand, the three of you sat in silence, as if puppies that had gotten tamed. ''I apologize if I didn't get to greet you when you walked through my door, but I assume, my friend here already did,'' You could feel yourself gulping, you don't even know why this was so nerve wrecking.

You don't know if it was because of the suffocating atmosphere inside the room. Maybe it was the way his piercing eyes panned at you. Maybe it was because of the memories from before started flooding your mind the moment your eyes met his. Maybe it was the longing feeling inside you as you stared at him, not sued to being so distant.

You're not sure which was the reason but you're hoping it wasn't the last. You couldn't afford to regain the longing and despair that kept you tied to darkness in a lot of months. You wouldn't want to experience being so vulnerable and weak that even a small needle would break you apart. You don't want to lose yourself to Jung Jaehyun once again.

The following days consisted of meetings about the contract you'll have with the brand. During those days, you've learned that Jaehyun was able to extend his company to multiple industries and you just can't deny the proudness inside you. By how the employees and staffs around you talked about him, Jaehyun appeared to be so hardworking that many deemed him to spending all of his time working. Comments about his good looks and body image was greatly spread out as well, earning praises here and there with men and women expressing envy and admiration.

''Dude, can you close your mouth? You're literally drooling,'' Taeyong poked to the side, you jerked and pinched him lightly as a revenge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned to him to whisper, ''I'm not drooling, dumbass.'' But your best friend only gave you a mocking smile, ''Sure, jan. Sure,'' Nodding his head as he made an 'okay' sign with his fingers under the table.

Irritated, you slap his hands lightly, making him laugh a little at your pissed facial expression. ''Taeyong, I swear to God, stop--''

''-- important so I hope everyone is paying attention rather than playing games under the table.'' You turned to look at Jaehyun who was talking in front, his eyes boring to you as he gave you an eyebrow flash, clarifying the fact that he was talking to you. He tilted his head when you didn't answered, putting his hands in his pockets, ''Isn't that right, Miss?''

The stares you received from the employees produced a clearing of your throat, nodding and sitting properly, ''Yes, that's right,'' You swear you could feel Taeyong sniffling a laugh beside you. You couldn't believe he just scolded you for not listening like some teacher.

Once the meeting about the plan for the photoshoot was adjourned, everyone proceeded to spend their small break by having coffee, going back to their respective floors and visitors like you and Taeyong, went out to go back to your agency.

You reached for the door handle when you've heard Mark calling you, turning around, you saw him still settled beside his boss slash friend who appeared to be busy reading something. ''Are you busy? Do you have anything to do after this?'' Though a bit puzzled, you shook your head no, curious as to why he was asking you. ''No, I don't have any schedule after this,'' You cleared up, making Mark smile.

''Would you want to eat meat with us?'' He suggested, looking at you like a younger brother asking for a candy to his older sibling. Facing Taeyong, you gave him the same question as you figured out you don't want to join them unless you have Taeyong by your side, ''Would you?''

''Oh, not him!'' The both of you immediately swirled to see Mark seemingly surprised with what he said as well, ''I mean-- it's not like Taeyong would reject a meat treat, right?'' Anyone could sense the awkwardness at the young man's voice but only a few can see how a certain someone shot him a look.

Taeyong hummed, ''I do have something after this,'' You prayed for him to reject the offer, believing that your best friend knew you well that he knew you wouldn't want to join the two. ''But sure, at dinner?'' Your jaw dropped at his request, in contrast to Mark and Taeyong's questionable grin.

''Sounds great! You two have a safe journey to wherever you're going!'' At least the excitement in Mark's voice made you smile.

Dinner came and the four of you were now seated in a rectangle shaped table with Mark at Jaehyun's side, and Taeyong at yours. It actually surprised you that you-know-who agreed to come, considering that his face doesn't seem impressed when Mark suggested it.

Thanks to Mark and Taeyong for the constant chatting about random things that helped breaking the silence, because if it weren't for them, the awkwardness surrounding your and Jaehyun's side would kill you.

Taking a bite of the fillet mignon, you joined the conversation, ''Since when did you two got this close?'' It was pure and genuine curiosity, not laced with any bits of malice nor mocking so you're not really sure why they seemed to be frozen, taken aback by your comment.

''Since we met him? We bumped into each other a lot after that, so we got close, you know?'' Taeyong nonchalantly replied, hand gestures and all to support his claim. You could only hum, accepting the reason as you don't really have the choice to do so.

''I see,'' Nodding, you didn't pay any attention to them again, munching on your food with hopes of brushing off the uncomfortableness. Minutes had passed by and Mark excused himself for a smoke break, pulling Taeyong with him as according to the young man, he still have a lot to share.

While the two departed from the table, you were left with Jaehyun who was busy typing away on his phone. Which was honestly, something that you're thankful for, because ''God, this is so boring-- I felt like dying.''

''Talk to me, then,'' You swivel around, surprised by Jaehyun's mumble, only to see him still focusing on his screen with his eyebrows scrunched to the middle. Tilting your head a little, you convinced yourself that maybe you've heard him wrong.

Continuing to finish your food, you wondered why the two were taking so long, Taeyong doesn't even smoke, he already quited a long time ago. Thoughts kept running through your head as you chewed, and maybe, you should've kept them to yourself. It was too late before you realized that you've voiced out what you were thinking, ''Super awkward,'' Even prolonging that letter 'a' with the urge to express it passionately.

You, then swore, heard Jaehyun mumbling under his breath again, ''Maybe if you didn't bring your little boyfriend with you,'' But when you gave him a brief glance, he was talking to his phone, the speaker directly at his mouth as if to emphasized that he was on a call.

Feeling like he was targeting you, though knowing it was immature, you still replied without even having the sureness that his comments were to specifically attack you. ''Oh who wouldn't love to bring my boyfriend everywhere? He's just so sweet,'' Hiding your smirk behind the napkin being pat to your lips, looking down a second before peeking at his reaction.

Your smirk widened when you saw how his eyebrow raised in question and his facial expression seemed to be irritated. What made you laugh was the way he so subtly scoffed, whispering ''Sweet, my ass.''

A clearing of throat was heard as the two men sat beside you again. The little test of yours wasn't done but it was enough for you to know that Jung Jaehyun was still affected by you.

The night had come after a very long day and you were unfortunate to not bringing your own car, so you were stuck with waiting for a car that you booked online. Yuta had warned you not to use these kind of apps as it will increase the possibilities of having your address leaked and of course, a stalker. But you don't really have a choice right now, given that it's very dark outside and you've got no one to ask help, Taeyong who was your one call away was currently at the other end of the earth.

Almost pass 20 minutes, you've gotten impatient and near to disturb Yuta to come pick you up when a black BMW car pulled up in front of you. Preventing yourself to squeal in glee, you tiptoe to steal a peek through the passenger side's rolling down windows, expecting a driver looking guy but instead was greeted by a CEO with a stern face, looking ahead and not moving at all.

You blinked the confusion away, not believing what you were seeing, only snapping out of your trance when Jaehyun turned to you, ''Does your manager know you're still here?''

Putting up a facade, you replied with your chin up, ''Yes, he does.''

''Is he picking you up?'' You hated how that eyebrow of his was so intimidating.

''Yes.. Of course, he will,'' You almost pinched yourself when you felt your voice almost shaking, wondering you felt so nervous around him.

Hearing him let out a short scoff, you saw him rolled his eyes a bit before settling his left hand on the window he just rolled down, playing with his lips as he looked ahead. His right hand whose fingers were tapping stopped after a minute. Jaehyun faced you again, his arms remaining where they were, ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, is he picking you up?''

You pondered a bit, thinking of the consequences of whatever decision you might follow. Whilst doing that, it appeared that you were taking quiet a long time when Jaehyun thought your silence meant no so he slowly drove away from where you stood.

''It's okay, I still have a booked car,'' Breathing out, you opened your phone with ease inside you, just to be greeted by the word cancelled at the bottom part in massive bold red text, as if mocking you for making the wrong decision.

It was as though you were cursed with bad luck because of how everything doesn't go to your way today. Before you could even wish that someone you know will pull up in front of you and pick you up, the same BMW car showed again, honking once, rolling down his window.

''Get in,'' was all he said, not even giving a glance. You don't want to risk the chances of getting left alone again despite the urge to reject the offer so you climbed up and settled beside the person whom you didn't expect to have this kind of interaction one more time after those years.

You felt his stare, judging and observing you. Gulping, you didn't know how to react, your eyes shaking as you tried to figure out why Jaehyun was staring at you.

Answers were given yet multiple questions appeared when he slowly leaned towards you, getting closer and closer as seconds passed by until you could feel his breath panning against your cheeks. You turned to face him in confusion, reaching out to put a barrier between the both of you using your palms when you heard a click you, followed by Jaehyun settling back to his own seat, placing his arm on the open window again while the other was on the handle.

It was only then when you realized that he was buckling the seatbelt for you, the realization made you clear your throat out of nowhere, ''You should've just told me,'' You declared, wanting to convey that you didn't liked what he did one bit.

''I would if you weren't too busy inspecting my car,'' He said nonchalantly, spinning the handle with his right hand, looking side by side to make sure he wasn't gonna hit something. You might hit him though by how the way he replied to you, it irritated you for no reason.

A pregnant silence filled the car as you watched through the window, it was only broken when Jaehyun suddenly spoke, ''Do you want something?'' Your eyes diverted to him full of accusations and hits of malice.

He raised an eyebrow at your expression, ''Don't be so full of yourself, I'm just hungry. It would be disrespectful of me if I didn't asked you,'' God, why was he acting like this? It was like you're dealing with a teenager going through puberty, hence the annoyance and the endless comebacks.

Rolling your eyes, you were about to shake your head to reject the offer when your stomach grumbled loudly, announcing how you haven't eaten anything since morning. Glancing at Jaehyun, you don't know if your eyes were just playing with you but you might've seen him stifling a smile behind the fingers that was playing with his lips.

''Mcdonald's?''

''Yes, thank you.''

Embarrassment took over you to the point where you just wanted the floor to swallow you and never spit you out. Fronting as something or someone was harder than you thought, especially in front of someone who knew you well. Maybe even more than yourself.

You were definitely more than glad to have reached your building, you've tried to lessen your interaction with that man after the 'grabbing some food' scene but you couldn't avoid it as you had to tell him where you lived.

Mumbling a simple 'thanks' was all you did before getting out of the car and rushing inside the building, sighing in relief when you've entered your apartment. The day was tiring enough for you to immediately washing up and going straight to bed.

Morning came and what had greeted you was multiple calls and texts from your surely angry manager, accompanied by Taeyong's consistent knocks on your door. ''Bro, I swear to God-- if you don't fucking wake up--'' Shooting up, you quickly opened it, scared of what he may do as the last time he said that, he threw a bucket of an ice cold water at your peaceful sleeping figure.

You did your routine much quicker, even skipping a few of them that wasn't crucial to your hygiene before dragging Taeyong out of the couch to your car. Thankfully, you arrived at the photoshoot earlier than you expected, you were still late though. ''You owe me a coffee,'' Whispered by Taeyong before he left you for another schedule.

Bringing Yuta with you to the coffee shop might be a wrong decision as you always ended up paying for the drinks, him reasoning that it was your payment for making him do those extra works, which you agreed to. Zipping your bag open, you rummage through it to look for your wallet but it wasn't where you've always put it.

Tsking, you explored the other parts of your bag, yet no signs of your wallet was seen nor felt. Yuta might've sensed it as he walked towards you to ask what's wrong, you told him about it, resulting in him asking where you've last put it.

''I promise, it was just right here,'' You said with panic, still searching.

''Inside your bag? Where did you put it last night, then?'' Recalling, you've put in on your bedside, given that you were too tired. You still had it when you and Jaehyun brought food-- bells rang inside you as a light bulb seemed to lit up above your head. Jaehyun! You could recall a small tud sound when he buckled your belt, that should be your missing purse.

''I.. I might've left it in my apartment, I'll wire it to you once I get home,'' Giving him a sheepish smile, you received a look full of suspicion from Yuta, nodding at him to assure. With your manager paying for the drinks, you were now left with the problem you didn't want to face.

How were you gonna contact Jaehyun and ask for your purse back?

The sound of a couch rustling barely passed through your ears, getting your attention from the focus of posing in front of the camera to the corner of the room, you slightly caught a sight of someone in a suit with his legs crossed. It was no brainier of who it was sitting with such overpowering aura, there was only one man who you knew could do it.

His were boring to you as you followed the instructions of the director, acting all lovey dovey with your co-model, showing the products through placing them on your partner's face lovingly. ''Can we do more?'' The director requested in which you two followed. Your coworker's, Haechan, arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he rubbed his nose with the product with yours, creating a soft and domestic moment.

The staffs cooed at the actions, absolutely satisfied by the chemistry you're radiating. From your peripheral, you saw the way Jaehyun's jaw tightened, his hands tapping his knee continuously before he made the decision of standing up and leaving the scene.

As if on cue, only a few scenes were took before the director announced the end of the photoshoot, thanking and praising everyone for the job. You made your way to change clothes as the sando and denim shorts were too thin for your liking, the cold breeze of the air condition seeping through the fabric.

Reaching for the hem of your top, you stopped your motions when you heard the door opened, a certain CEO entered. His eyes fell on you, he didn't hesitated nor had second thoughts as he stride to your way slowly, hands caressing his wrist before fixing his cuffs.

Wanting to avoid him, you stepped backwards but was unfortunately met with the edge of the counter where the makeups were placed. Not getting any time to walk away as boh of his hands were settled at either side of your body, caging you in, cornering you as his eyes searched for yours.

The silence thickened, your gulp and breathing were heard along with the buzzing of the AC. Gripping the edge with your hands, you failed to lean backwards as the CEO lowered his head, making you face him directly.

The time slowed down like some disney movie when your brain processed how Jaehyun moved closer and closer, his fingers brushing your waist that electrified your body, pursing your lips as you placed a hand to his chest to stop him.

Not really knowing why, you felt humiliated by how he chuckled lowly at your action, biting his lower lip before bringing his face close enough that you could feel his breath fanning your nose. Your own voice got caught in your throat when you tried to grumble a protest, only producing a squeak.

His lips hovered above yours, forming a smirk, decreasing the distance little by little until there was a centimeter gap left. You gulped for the nth time, it was so close yet still so far. With your hand forming a fist, you scrunched a part of his dress shirt along with it.

Jaehyun's lips moved upwards a bit, stopping once he decided the movement was enough. He observed your face a little, detecting any uncomfortableness. All be damned when he didn't detect anything. Proceeding to place his lips at the tip of your nose lightly and softly, pulling away as the door opened just in time.

''Sir? Have you found your watch?'' Jaehyun hummed at his employee's question, stretching his hand to reach for something behind you, putting it on his wrist and wearing it again.

You heard him whisper before walking out of the room, ''Should've never left something so important,'' It was only you who could sense that he wasn't only talking about the watch.

You left the venue with a lot of thoughts floating in your mind, one of them being what will happen next?

Taeyong's sharp gasp pierced your ears, hand over his mouth as if he couldn't believe what his screen had projected, ''What's up with you?'' You asked him, giving him a glare mixed with wonder. ''Did you just denied our lovely, perfect and healthy relationship?!'' He pointed at you with so much accusations, mouth wide open, it was as if you've been convicted to a capital crime.

''What relationship?'' Eyebrows scrunched to the middle, you reached to peek what he was looking at, there you saw the big bold letters about how the dating issue between you and Taeyong weren't true. ''Dude, I did not deny nothing,'' It was the truth, you're too caught up with your current projects that you even forgot about the said 'scandal'.

You shushed Taeyong when your phone rang, displaying Yuta's name, sliding the answer button and placing the speaker on your ear. ''The photos came out,'' He announced.

With your eyebrows creased to the middle, you responded, ''And so?'' Not sure as to why he was telling you this. ''Well..'' By the tone, your eyes already rolled to the back of your head, knowing that this meant his usual request. Already detecting your reaction, he urged you to listen first, ''Wait wait! To be fair, this is for your another project, okay? Plus, It's a really really good one. If you want proof, I'm currently with Taeyong!''

''He's right beside me, what're you talking about?'' Screaming at your ear enabled his voice to be heard even without being on speaker, ''Dumbass,'' Taeyong muttered under his breath.

You heard him pause, you could almost hear his reasons being picked, ''I mean-- Taeyong's with me in this project, he was the one who told me about this certain someone wanting you on the runway,'' Shaking your head in disbelief, you don't have any clue as why he was lying to you but having so much trust with the man, you couldn't care less.

''Whatever, what favor would you want me to do this time?'' Yuta let out a small giggle, wondering if he asked favors this frequently that you already knew what was about to come.

''Can you pick up the hard copies?''

''Why do we need the hard ones? Can't you just like-- send it through emails or something, it's 2023.''

''Nah, the company wanted a hard copy.''

''Is it necessary? Really?''

''Yes, it is.''

''Fine, where will I pick it?''

That's how you ended up in front of the oak wood door with the word Chief Executive Officer plastered in it, gripping the sling of your shoulder bag as you changed weight from one leg to another in an attempt to brush off the nervousness bubbling inside of you.

Knocking against it, you saw the light on the door handle turned green, indicating that it was unlocked and you can freely enter. Twisting the handle, you slowly stepped a foot after foot inside the huge room, the same placement of things met your eyes, not even one being moved.

Except for the atmosphere surrounding the space, it was more of one where you could focus on your work and one that could tell anyone not to disturb the person inside. You expected him to be surprised as he looked but it seemed like the opposite when his eyes met yours as you took a seat in front of him placing his pen down as he greeted you formally and you greeting him back. Awkward, to say the least. Yet you're certain, he anticipated your arrival.

''Yuta had told me I had to get the hard copy of the outcome as my agency requested it, your employees led me here,'' You explained, rapping the words and almost stutter in the middle. Jaehyun made a buzzing sound with his mouth-- a hum, nodding before standing up and making his way to one of the drawers settled by the wall. He took out a folder, walking back to you and stretching his forward. You received the folder with a 'thank you', wanting to leave the room right away.

''I'm surprised you came alone today,'' Out of nowhere, Jaehyun commented that gained a snort from you, recalling his childish tantrum about bringing Taeyong with you everywhere. He placed his palms on the table as he leaned backwards, giving his legs time to relax while he put most of his weight on his arms.

''What? Were you expect my little boyfriend to come with me?'' You diverted your eyes at him with a challenging look, seeing how he hid the way he gulp made you gain confidence.

Shaking his head no, Jaehyun replied, ''You mean your best friend?'' Ah, so he'd seen the news as well, huh? You could've mistaken the glare of his for something near hope and assurance, as if he wanted you to confirm that Taeyong was nothing but a friend to you.

There was no reason not to lie, given the fact that he wasn't someone important in your life no more but you didn't. Instead, you did confirmed his claim, wanting to see what his next love will be. Your lips curving up to a smirk, ''Yeah, my best friend-- slash boyfriend.''

Jaehyun reciprocated your smirk, he got on his feet fully once again, taking steps closer to you. His torso faced your head because of his height, you didn't looked up-- you don't want to. But his fingers ever so gently brushed against your chin, tilting them upwards so he could see the view of your face clearly.

''Still lying, I see,'' The way he towered over you and his fingers holding your chin with care, it was too familiar. So familiar that what was about to come next was inevitable, your body already giving in without any protest.

The fingers moved upwards, expanding the skinship from his fingers to his whole palm settling at the side of your face. He bent down to your level, facing you directly as he kept the eye contact, not blinking in fear that he wouldn't catch a glimpse of what he wanted to see from you.

Sounds became mumbled, feeling the whole world stopped spinning as Jaehyun's pillowy lips pressed slowly and softly against yours after years. Your eyes, as if instinctively, closed, memories rushing back at you with the contact you knew your body was longing for.

He pulled away after what seemed to be an eternity, his eyes full of fondness and hope met your doe ones, thumb caressing your cheek gently as he heaved a sigh. ''Tell me to stop,'' Jaehyun whispered, gulping for the nth time.

''Tell me you don't want this,'' The CEO's brown orbs plead you to do so, wanting everything except invade your privacy and disrespect you. Instead of hearing what he wanted, his mouth that was slightly ajar were once again in contact with yours, pouring all your unsaid feelings to the kiss as you circled your arms on his neck.

You heard him mumbled against your lips, ''Fuck,'' His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you up with him and making you settle on top of his table, a much comfortable height for the both of you.

The kiss deepened with passion, the urge to have each other close even when there's no gap to decrease no more. Your hands reached the hem of Jaehyun's dress shirt, tugging at it causing a fond laugh from the man. Taking off his top, the muscled body made you drool, it was definitely more buffed than the last time you saw it. Your hands traveled from his neck to his waist, placing kisses to his chest while he reached out behind you, locking the door with a single click from the buttons beside his telephone.

You licked a stripe on his nipples, earning a groan from him as his hand went through your hair, hesitating to grip them-- not wanting to hurt you. But Jaehyun, out of all people, should know how you love pain in sex. It seemed like he remembered that, because with just one look from you, his lips curved up at the same time as his hand formed a fist, injecting pain with pleasure to you. Your smile told him everything he needed to know.

He kissed you one more time before moving his kisses to your neck, sucking and licking but careful enough not to leave obvious marks, although you slightly wished he did.

Unbuttoning your cropped cardigan, his eyes were blessed to see the sight of your breasts barely covered by your bra, he slowly slid it off your shoulder, appreciation seeping through his pecking of your skin along the way.

He, next, worked on your square pants, not having any difficulty in taking it off as it slid so effortlessly off of you, presenting a sight he longed for so long. Jaehyun traced every curves of your body with pressing his lips softly against them, taking a deep breath as he pulled away for a moment, staring at you with so much admiration that you felt blush creeping up your cheeks.

''So fucking beautiful,'' The CEO unbuckled your bra and held the waistband of your underwear between his fingers, with you taking the initiative of getting your bra off. He kneeled down, giving your inner thigh a few kisses before reaching to the center of your two legs. Jaehyun ate your pussy out as if he was making out with your lips, his tongue were all over and his face turning sideways multiple times in an attempt to reach further.

Cursing, you spread your legs open to give him space, yet his hands stopped you, grabbing each side, putting them on his shoulder, not letting it get far away from him in any way. You forgot how Jaehyun loved the thigh burned he got everytime he ate you out.

Deprivation can be shown by how he sucked on your clit, middle finger working their way in and out of you with a squelching sound. ''Jaehyun, fuck,'' God, how he loved the way you moaned his name. He had been wanting to hear that since then, only settling for porn actors as he couldn't afford having you in his arms again.

But that changed today, you're here right now. Caged in his arms, moaning in pleasure, screaming for more with no hints of protest, Jaehyun couldn't ask for more.

Placing your hand in his strands, you pulled a little and Jaehyun knew you too well to remember that this was a telltale sign of you coming close, he maybe can't see it but he knew that your back was currently arched as you squeezed his head between your legs, jerking a few times before he felt your salty juices on his tongue.

He groaned in satisfaction, licking and wanting for more, he just couldn't get enough of it. As much as he loved the taste of you though, Jaehyun couldn't ignore the ache and throb of his cock inside his pants, as well as your pleas of having him despite just coming down from your previous high.

Getting on his feet, he picked you up with little to no struggle, bringing you as he laid you down on the couch. You failed to notice how his hand were unbuckling his belt, throwing it far from you two, moving to his button and taking off his whole pants.

When you've realized that his bottom were thrown away, your hand palmed his bulge through his boxer almost right away, head still quiet caught by how Jaehyun were eating your neck, surely having a hard time not placing marks.

''Come on, Jae,'' You urged him, kissing him in tongues as you circled your legs on his waist, grinding up against his clothed cock, gaining a low moan from him. ''Want my cock, babe?'' The cockiness in his tone and the annoyingly smirk on his face matched the size of his cock. It was way beyond the average, bonus points that he knew how to use it well.

Nodding, you grind harder, expressing your want with your actions causing Jaehyun to chuckle lowly. You soon, felt his bare tip on your pussy lips, teasing you as it slid up and down but never entering you just yet.

You grumbled in impatience, wanting to slap off the smirk on Jaehyun's face, ''Bratty, huh?'' Dominance took over his deep voice, his hand went to grip your thigh as the other caressed your cheeks. You couldn't take the intimacy of Jaehyun's stare so you decided to look where you two meet.

Gulping, you used the begging expression you knew he loved so much, ''Please, Jae,''

He cursed at the sight of you begging for him, again, ''Fuck, you just know how to get me, don't you?''

Slowly, Jaehyun pushed inside of you, his length stretching your walls with its width and girth, you ignored the ache taking over you, pleading him to go all in.

Yet the CEO only shook his head, kissing you softly, stroking your sides inna comforting manner. It reminded you of your first sex with him, always distracting you from the pain and only letting go when it was time for pleasure.

That was exactly what he need, starting with slow pace before picking it up bits by bits, letting you adjust to his size as his hips jerked harsher each thrust, reaching deeper into you. You threw your head back, exposing yourself fully to Jaehyun, giving him access to everything, his hands went to hold your throat but retreated, moving to your breasts as he fondled them, licking and nibbling, giving the same amount of attention to each.

Maybe it was because of your last orgasm or maybe it was due to how Jaehyun thrusted feverishly inside you, hitting directly to your sweet spot, sending you to an overwhelming feeling of addicting euphoria that you don't ever want to escape from. You don't know which but surely, one of them was the reason you felt another climax crashing down on you once again.

Screaming and chanting Jaehyun like a mantra, you unconsciously dug your nails in Jaehyun's back, earning a hiss from the man as lines of red was painted on his skin, giving him extra pleasure other than the delicious clenching of your walls around his veiny shaft.

''Oh my god, Jaehyun!'' You shut your eyes tightly, holding Jaehyun close as you locked his hips with your legs, grasping his biceps when you've felt your climax finally breaking, your body shaking from the intensity. Feeling overstimulated when Jaehyun's hips didn't stopped from moving, reaching his own high. He immediately pulled away, jerking his cock, with him whining your name, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth fell open, white strings coming out of his tip, landing on your stomach.

When he came back to his senses, he stood up from the couch, walking around to grab some tissues, wiping the remains of him on you, mumbling, ''Sorry for that.''

It was hard for you to determine if he was talking about the cum on your stomach or the relationship that failed, caused by pride and greed.

''So.. are you two now dating?'' Taeyong asked with confusion evident in his tone, followed by a nod from Mark, Yuta and Johnny. You laughed with Jaehyun, sharing a look before answering, ''I guess? Maybe?''

Mark's eyebrows furrowed, ''What kind of answer is that?'' The man beside you sheepishly smiled, reflecting yours, ''The kind of answer, we will give you everytime you ask us.''

That was the last thing they've received from your pair as you already skipped away from the scene, hands tangled together, wearing smiles brighter as ever. ''They definitely, are back together,'' Johnny declared.

''Congrats to us, and our efforts then!'' Mark cheered, raising his glass of beer for a click in which the others followed. ''Jaehyun owe us a lot,'' Yuta reminded his fellows with a shake of his head.

Getting back together with Jaehyun, it made you realized a lot of things. Such as your faults, his wrongdoings and the areas you two had lacked to fulfill. You decided to try again, the both of you.

But this time, with much understanding and patience for each other. You've figured out the importance of them in a relationship, playing vital roles in keeping it healthy and functioning.

The love now overpowered the pride.

''I'm so sorry, for not giving you a chance, for not letting you in, for belittling your problems, and for pushing you away.''

''I'm sorry, for pressuring you to open up, for making you feel obligated to share even when you're not ready yet, and for giving up with knowing well how you're going through something severe.''

''I'm sorry for everything, because when you left, it was only then when I realized that-- while I was busy chasing the stars, I was losing you.''

You both decided to try again, but this time, without pride and greed. Replacing it with love and understanding, especially now with Taeho and Taehee officially joining your little family.

#jung jaehyun #nct #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun hard hours #nct hard hours #nct imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 smut #prodbymaui

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jointherebellion215 · 6 months

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Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone.

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes.

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.”

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond.

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word.

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his.

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?”

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food.

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption.

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!”

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing.

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind.

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap.

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves.

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends.

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.”

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly.

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.”

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you.

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.”

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted.

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

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legacygirlingreen · 6 months

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There’s been so much negativity lately I truly am sick of it. I have been feeling so drained. So instead of posting about it, I wanted to talk about some of the great things I’ve seen or experienced lately.

First I want to shout out @eternalremorse for being the most supportive person I’d argue in the fandom. Forever reblogging everyone’s content, commenting, etc. you truly are such a welcoming and lovely friend

@localravenclaw for also being someone who supports almost every post with the tag Hogwarts legacy!

@writing-intheundercroft I adore our convos and your writing. I know you are such a talented and fun person and it’s so wonderful to have someone in the fandom who’s in a similar place as I am. You get how I feel about the current group and it’s so refreshing to not feel alone.

@animasola86 for being so absolutely sweet about their work, screenshots, and all around so kind! I am so excited to finish up this one shot and share the screenshots you did! You write some of the best spicy content for the fandom and are CRIMINALLY under rated!

@silverxstardust @darch7995 for our fun collabs we have done over the past year! You both are so sweet and the rocker AU will continue to live on (still working on part 3) !

@heyitszev for being a champion for enriching the content in this fandom and speaking out to gain some more diversity and inclusion. Thank you for your brilliant mind and your dedication to making a space that is authentically YOURS

@cuffmeinblack @blueraineshadows for continuing to upload again and again all your stories and sharing your talent with us! You both have continued to push this fandom to over ride their easily formed opinions on characters like Leander and push for more enrichment with ones like Andrew Larson!

@tamayula-hl @rednite-dork for being my personal favorite artists in the fandom! Your works - especially with aged up Sebastian continue to make my heart soar!

@kaylasallow @redd-jayy @ilovewritingfics @charisdoesntcare @finalgirllx @jeniffler @opalmoony @minmns and so many others for continually being blogs I see liking, commenting, and reposting my work! Having a steady flow of those who appreciate what I do helps me continue to find the energy to post 💚

I know there’s so many people I likely forgot but I just wanted to thank those in the Hogwarts Legacy Fandom for continuing to keep this a fun, expressive and lovely place. You ALL rock! Feel free to keep the chain of love going if you so please and I know I forgot people!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwartslegacy

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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@henderdads posted this about domestic fluff and I realize that I love this trope and I just don’t write enough of it, and I wanted to give her a little treat to read. Mostly because her tags when she reblogs on my post give me absolute joy, I laugh every time.

Two things might come as a surprise when getting to know Steve Harrington. The first being he didn’t actually like parties. He likes making other people feel good, wants to make them happy. Hence why for years, he lets Tommy and Carol wreak havoc on his house. It makes them happy and, for a short while, makes most of Hawkins High happy. Steve, in retrospect, has learned to regret this since he has now gained a reputation for being a party king, despite not throwing one in years, but he knows all too well how hard it is to let go of a high school reputation.

The second surprising fact is that Steve Harrington hated his birthday. Well, maybe hate wasn’t the right word, but he has incredibly low expectations for his birthday. Either everyone forgets his birthday, or somehow Steve is reminded that he is an inconvenience.

“Sorry sweetie, your dad has a business meeting that day.”

“Dude, I have a baseball game in that night could we do something another day?”

“I’m late! I know, we stayed up all night playing D&D. I even forgot to call Suzie!”

Steve isn’t necessarily hurt per se when these things happen. He knows that some people, more than others, are really trying. That it’s human to make mistakes. But Steve doesn’t like to get his hopes up; that’ll be much better than that.

There is also the more commonly now known fact that Steve doesn’t like being the center of attention. And birthdays come along with a lot of that. Sure, Steve wants someone to pay attention to him, really listen to what he has to say, but he has long since out grown the desperate need to have everyone look at him.

It is why it is such a surprise the upside down crew throws him a 24th birthday party.

Steve always thought something like this would upset him, but he is delightfully warm at the sight of all his friends, all of his family, inside Robin and Nancy's apartment screaming,

“Surprise, Dingus!”

Steve can’t believe she got everyone to say that.

After the shock of seeing them all packed like sardines wearing party hats, Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie walks up to him, placing a hat on his head and a soft kiss on his cheek. “I tried to stop them,” Eddie whispers. “I know you don’t like parties, but they just wanted to show how much they love you. It was hard to say no.”

Steve turns to Eddie, a man who knows him inside and out and knows he can’t lie to him. “I thought I would hate this, but I don’t. It’s perfect.” He kisses Eddie on the lips, just as soft as the one before.

“Good, because I really didn’t try to stop them.” Eddie smiles into the kiss.

“Ew!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Various shouts across the room cause the couple to giggle and pull apart. Eddie flips them all off, “It’s been four years, assholes! Grow up.”

Eddie runs off to particularly chase Mike, who actually hasn’t said anything but did make a face, and Steve can’t help but be overwhelmed by joy.

🎉🦇🎉🦇

Hours later, after the cake has been cut and the presents have been shared, and his kiddos are definitely way too drunk, the party doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. And Steve, who is having fun but growing antsy since he slowed down on drinking years ago, isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He doesn’t want to ruin the fun or make anyone think he didn’t have a good time. This is one of the best birthdays, if not the best one, he’s ever had. But Steve is getting overwhelmed and worn out. He isn’t really tired, but being social has reached its capacity for the night.

Even so, he can’t help but laugh at Robin as she tells a story about the most recent disaster of her sign language class, where kids keep accidentally swearing instead of the proper words.

Eddie catches his eye across the room; he looks happy as he talks to Hop and Wayne. But even mid-conversation, across the sea of people, he tugs his helix piercing over his right ear twice.

It’s their signal for, “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve rubs the scar over his left eye twice, “Yes please.” It means.

Eddie excuses himself and makes his way to Steve. “Hey, baby.” He interrupts Robin mid-rant, who makes a sound of drunken protest. “Did we feed Mrs. Pierson’s cat today?”

Another signal, which translates, “Do you want to go home?”

And Steve knows he can just tell Eddie yes, and they can stay at the party, and Steve will have fun, and he’ll be happy, but it isn’t what he wants. What he wants is to be at home with their own cat Beelzebub, snuggled up in their bed. So Steve says, “Shit, I don’t think we did.” Yes, please. Let’s go home.

Eddie acts quickly. They make their rounds, say goodbyes, and make their excuses. Everyone lovingly pokes at their forgetfulness. The couple insists everyone stays and enjoys themselves. Steve thanks everyone with individual hugs.

Steve and Eddie hold pinkies the entire walk home, down the streets of Indianapolis. The dark night blanket of night, and the never-ending sound of the city, keeping them safe enough to risk the intertwined digits.

When they make it home, they say nothing. They unwind slowly. Sharing kisses, delicately take off each other's clothes, hum into each others mouths. There is nothing rushed, or rough; they have time now. There will be moments for that later.

And in their journey from the front door to the bed, Eddie kisses the place where Steve’s shoulder and neck meet. It’s his signal for “I love you.”

Later, when they are tangled up in the sheets, heavy breaths slowing down, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, Steve leans up and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. It’s his signal for “I love you more.”

Eddie’s smile back says, “that just isn’t possible.”

“Thank you for today.” Steve finally speaks out loud, playing with Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, it isn’t over yet, baby.” And Eddie jumps out of bed naked, running out of the room.

Steve can’t help but cackle at his boyfriend's antics. There is a sudden thump on the bed; Steve peeks down to see their cat making his home on the end of their bed like he knows they are finally done for the night. “Hey, bee.” Steve scratches him behind his ear, earning a resounding purr from him. A little to the left, it means.

Eddie comes back into the room and dives back into the bed, bouncing Beelzebub but not startlingly him enough to move. Steve supposes he’s used to his father's antics. “Okay, I would tell you to close your eyes, but I know you’re not going to listen, so I’m just going to hand them to you.”

Steve giggles and grabs the pieces of paper in his hands and his heart stops. “Eddie.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s grin is wide.

“These are three tickets to see Madonna.”

“Yup.” Eddie pops his ‘p’ clearly proud of himself. “One for you, one for Robs of course, and one for me.”

Steve whispers in awe, “But you hate Madonna.”

Eddie brushes the hair out of Steve’s face, “Please, no one can hate Madonna.” Eddie’s eyes turn soft, “Besides, you love her, and you love me. It only felt fair to have us both in the same place. And you’d worry the entire time if I wasn’t there.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight. Hoping he can translate how much he loves this man through it. Steve loves making other people happy, but no one has loved making Steve happy, quite like Eddie. “I love you so much,” Steve says once he leans back.

Eddie kisses the place where his shoulder and his neck meet. I love you. Eddie kisses the tip of his nose. I love you more. Finally, he holds Steve’s face and says aloud,

“I love you too.”

***

Was this perhaps inspired by the fact I turn 24 in a week and a half? Maybeee. I’m a lot like Steve in this where I have such mixed feelings about my birthday. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about it if I’m honest, and I don’t have high hopes.

Unlike me, I don’t have a partner like Eddie, but Steve deserves the world and I wanted him to have some loving and domestic fluff. The idea that these two have secret signals is an important headcannon to me, and I would love to see others take on it.

I hope @henderdads you enjoyed this if you made it this far. It was a lot of fun to write. :)

#steddie #giving these boys the fluff they deserve #they have secret signals for everything #especially a ‘can you believe this guy’ one #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #birthday blues #stranger things #domestic fluff #happy ending #my writing #platonic stobin #Robin Buckley

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notsoattractivearenti · 10 months

Text

Beautiful Surprise (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)

WC: 1.7K

Warnings/Tags: pure fluff!

A/N: united got me so depressed i ended up writing this fic for a few hours for my own comfort 🥺 anyway hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 this isn't proofread so apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

It was a quiet afternoon at home because Lana – your and Mason’s 4 years old daughter – was playing with the next door neighbour’s child, Charlie, at their house. Mason was also at the neighbour's house to keep his eyes on Lana – even though you said it was unnecessary, he insisted to do so because he can be a bit overprotective at times – and knowing Mason, he would spend his time there by chatting with Charlie’s parents. Usually, you would go with him but this time you chose to stay at home because you wanted to rest.

A few hours later, Lana and Mason finally came home. You were in the living room, sitting quietly on the sofa while watching TV. After giving Lana the afternoon bath, Mason came to the living room to join you.

“So, what did you do there?” You opened a chat with your boyfriend.

“Nothing, really. Charlie’s mum was out so it was just me and Charlie’s dad talking while Lana and Charlie were playing in the backyard. He asked me a lot about football he eventually made me feel like I was in an interview.” He laughed.

“Well I’m sure he just wanted to gain more knowledge from the expert!” You responded.

Not long after, Lana joined her parents. She sat on Mason’s lap then began asking him the unexpected questions.

“Daddy, are you and Mummy married?”

The question was so out of the blue, it got both you and Mason startled.

“Umm, we aren’t, sweetie…” Mason nervously replied. Why'd you ask?”

“Charlie told me her parents are married... Will you and Mummy get married one day?”

“Uh…”

Mason immediately looked straight at you, who was sitting right next to them – he wanted to make sure you would be fine with whatever answer he was about to give to Lana. You assured him by smiling and nodding. He smiled back at you, then turned his attention back to Lana.

“Yes, sweetheart, we definitely will.”

He sounded so sure and confident when he said it.

“Yeay!” Lana excitedly shouted.

Lana then continued asking, “Charlie said she was a flower girl at her aunt’s wedding. When you and Mummy get married, can I be the flower girl?”

“Of course you can!” Mason said as he kissed Lana’s head. “You will be the most beautiful flower girl everyone has ever seen.” Lana blushed then gave his beloved Dad a little hug. “I can’t wait until you and Mummy get married!”

—

You and Mason have been together for almost six years, but you kind of feared the idea of being married. You were surrounded by a lot of failed marriages including your own parents, and even though you felt like you have always wanted a marriage, you were afraid you couldn’t keep it for the long term. Mason on the other hand has no fear whatsoever, but he has never wanted to rush you into changing your view about marriage. Though you two have had some conversations about the possibility of being married, he has always respected your decision to stay in a committed relationship without officially being married for a while. It wasn’t like you would never want to get married, it was about when you would feel ready instead.

But when it comes to children, you always knew you wanted to be a mother. And Mason also wanted to be a father. So, it was a quick and easy talk when you both decided you were ready to bring a child into the world, therefore a year into the relationship you both started trying and you got pregnant with Lana not long after.

You and Mason genuinely love being parents, though yours and his parents kept asking why you haven’t tied the knot. They thought now that you had Lana, it would be best to think about marriage. But Mason always defended our decision – he told them that we are focused on raising Lana and content with the way things are.

But since Lana asked whether you and Mason would get married or not, you started questioning if you are ready to marry the love of your life. And after spending some time thinking, your mind is finally made up: you are ready. You opened up to Mason about it, and he was so excited – however, you made it clear that you didn’t want to rush into it, and he understood.

—

Today was your and Mason's six-year anniversary, but it has been a very busy week at work so you let Mason know a few days prior you wanted to keep this year’s anniversary simple. After another long day at work, you were looking forward to coming home to your boyfriend and your daughter and spending the rest of the day with them – Mason had also promised you an anniversary dinner at home because he knew you would be too exhausted to go out.

Once you got back home, Mason – who was nicely dressed up – greeted you at the front door. He took your hand and gave it a kiss.

“Happy anniversary, my love. Dinner is ready for you.”

He had prepared a candlelight dinner at the dining room. The area was all decorated and the table was set beautifully.

“Wow!” You were in awe. “My goodness, this is perfect Mase.”

“Well, I got the best little helper,” he pointed at Lana who was already seated at the table.

“But honey, I am so underdressed right now,” you pointed at your outfit, “do you mind if I change first?”

“Don’t worry about your clothes, my love. I think you’re perfectly dressed! You know I just like to be extra.” He assured you while making fun of himself.

You chuckled. “Yeah, you can be so extra sometimes.”

You were ready to be seated but Mason held you back.

“Wait, before we have dinner I have to do something first.”

Mason nervously exhaled then got down on one knee. He really caught you by surprise – you weren’t prepared for what was coming.

“Okay, here we go.” He cleared his throat before starting his speech.

“Y/N, these past six years have been the most unbelievably wonderful years of my life. And it’s all thanks to you, my beautiful, amazing woman. The moment you entered my world, you instantly and naturally became the centre of it. My life has changed for the better because of you, and I don’t even remember my days before you.”

Tears slowly fell down on your face while listening to his heartfelt speech. Your hands were cold and visibly shaken from the shock and excitement.

“I can never thank you enough for bringing the most precious little girl four years ago into our lives, and making my heart and soul feel complete.” He continued. “Y/N, since our first date, I knew you were it for me… I really can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. I love you so much and I love our little family. I know you were scared and worried about the idea of marriage, but I am so proud of you for overcoming your fear. So… I am here to ask you to marry me.”

Lana, who was watching the proposal from her seat at the dining table, immediately got off her chair and giddily handed the ring box to Mason.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He whispered softly to Lana.

Your heart nearly dropped when Mason opened the box and showed you the ring. You couldn’t believe it was actually your dream ring: a 3-carat oval-cut diamond with pavé rose-gold band. You had casually mentioned it to Mason one time but you thought he wouldn’t remember any details.

“Mase…” You weakly sobbed.

“Y/F/N,” his voice started shaking, “will you spend the rest of your life with me by being my wife?”

You eagerly nodded your head and screamed out the loudest “yes” repeatedly. Still on his knee, he placed the ring on your ring finger. He then got up on his feet, pulled you in and passionately brushed his soft lips against yours. Your arms were wrapped around his neck while he was holding you tight. As you pulled your lips away, you both tearily whispered “I love you” to one another. Lana then joined her parents to celebrate the joyous occasion with hugging your and Mason’s legs.

“Yeay! Mummy and Daddy are married!” She cheered.

You and Mason immediately burst into laughter.

“We are not married yet, sweetie! But there’s going to be a wedding soon and we will be married then!” You quickly explained to Lana. “Don’t you want to be the flower girl?”

“Yes, Mummy, I do!” She enthusiastically jumped up and down. “I want to be a flower girl!”

Lana then impatiently pulled the back of your shirt over and over, letting you know she was starving. “Come on, Mummy, I need to eat! My tummy is empty!”

You laughed at how dramatic your daughter can be. She gets it from her father, for sure.

“Okay, okay, let’s eat!”

—

After you all finished your dinner, you stayed at the table for a while. You and Mason couldn’t stop yourselves from smiling and you kept admiring your engagement ring.

“This ring is so beautiful…”

“I helped Daddy pick it out, Mummy!” Lana claimed proudly.

“Yes, you certainly did.” Mason winked at her. He then whispered into your ear, “she actually just helped me pick the colour of the band but you know what, I’ll let her have the credit she wants.”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle. “Mmhm, I believe you.”

When Lana left the table to wash her hands, you poured your heart out to Mason.

“Mason… This is the best anniversary ever. I know I said I don’t want to rush anything but I really feel like I can’t wait to marry you. And you got me my dream ring! My God, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, baby… I’m the luckiest girl in the universe. I’m so excited for other anniversaries in the future. I love you so much, fiancé.”

“I love you so much more, fiancée… You deserve the best in the world! I will always give you what you want and need.” He said in response. “And trust me, there will be more exciting anniversaries to come.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x fem!reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #footballer imagines #footballer fic #footballer fanfic #footballer one shot #footballer fluff

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cyncerity · 6 months

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HAPPY 3 YEARS TO THIS BLOG!! 🎉💕🫶

i’m so happy i’ve been a part of this little community for as long as i have. everyone is super nice and inspiring and unbelievably talented, and im so glad to be posting content with people like y’all.

it’s absurd to think i’ve been doing this for 3 years and that i almost have 800 people here seeing it, but the love and support i’ve received over these years has been incredible. given that this is such a small community and i’ve either spoken with most of you or have at the very least interacted with your content, i feel confident in saying that every single person here is incredible in their own right and truly are the reason i stay here. you guys are genuinely the best, even if i forget to answer your asks or sometimes leave you on read for a while (i do that with everyone i’m so sorry) i mean it when i say that i do consider a good portion of you my friends. even if it’s been a while since we messaged or talked, you’re all awesome. and if i don’t know you personally, please feel free to message me! i love making friends, especially in a community like this that has time and time again proven to have some of the genuinely nicest people on the internet <3

i love writing and drawing and i’m not leaving here for a long while yet. the asks i’ve received saying that i inspired people to write, draw, or post are some of the nicest things i’ve ever received, and i truly mean it from the bottom of my heart when i say that those have changed my life. the self confidence and love for my craft that i’ve gained from being here is immeasurable, and that’s thanks to all of you, whether you’ve been here for years or are new to this blog.

given that this is an anniversary thing, i wanna thank @bittydragon, @baka-monarch, @wendy130, @darkeninganon, and @awesome-slime-lover for introducing me to this community. i was stalking their blogs on google far before i had an account here, and i only made an account so i could send them fanart, so you have them to thank for dragging me here lmao

i also wanna tag @plant-gt-thought-box, @kayla-crazy-stuffs, @blurrybunnie, @apersonstories, @funtimemoth, @mysticalblue09, @corysmiles, @pixy-stix-art, + some others who are not on tumblr anymore for being friends with me and actually being some of the kindest and funniest motherfuckers. Ik i haven’t spoken to some of you in forever, and i hope this isn’t coming off as parasocial, but you guys are awesome and i wish you nothing but the best (and if you wanna message more or get on vc again some time please lmk cause i am a social wuss)

and if i’m gonna list people i might as well tag the people who even if i don’t know as well, are all super talented and leave me marveling at everything they post on here (whether or not you post mcyt g/t anymore, you’re all still incredible creators who make me want to improve my own work): @eyes-eye-eyes (my /p wife <3), @wren-writes68, @jkknight98, @arc852, @brick-a-doodle-do, @oh-i-need-a-name, @quotemenevervore, @melissa-s23, @i-am-beckyu, @random-tinies, @archaxwii, @itty-bitty-rainbow, @goosedawn, @beansthough, @make-a-memory, @aslitheryprinx, @avengerofsquids, @thatoneteadrinker666, @shushiyuii, @x-pair-o-dice-x, @jammanthejam, @trouble-off-grid, @lunar-but-little, @frickfrackiwastakingabath, @chequered-career, @bio-nerds-corner, @dingbatnix, @cottoncandythetrashpanda, @sprite-addicted-artist, @colossal-red, @sheena-yuet, @quackxolotl, @local-squishmallow, @nobodywritingao3, @deity-of-keys, @astraymetronome, @a-xyz-s, and tumblr has now told me that i’ve hit the max of 50 mentions so i will have to reblog this with the rest of you (crazy to think that there’s that many of y’all but i really do want to shout out everyone) (also if you’re one of these blogs that doesn’t post mcyt anymore and don’t want yourself associated with it, just lmk and i will remove your tag from my list, just know that your previous work in this community was admired and appreciated <3)

also can’t forget the anons and the followers that aren’t outwardly a part of this community (don’t have g/t blogs, don’t have mcyt blogs, or just don’t post in general). i’m lucky enough that i’ve never received hate from an anon before, everything you guys have ever sent is so nice and you also have great ideas! I am so sorry if it takes me forever to share those ideas publicly, but know that each of you are appreciated. and for my followers, i truly wouldn’t be anywhere without you guys, so thank you for supporting me <3

anyway, i might be getting over sentimental about all this, but 3 years is a long time, and over that time i’ve grown very attached to this little group of creators and i just wanted to let you know how loved and appreciated you are

💕💖🫶💕✨

#cyncerity #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #if i SOMEHOW forgot you in the tags please note:#i will be reblogging later with more people #i have a list of people to add to the reblog hsksksksh #if i forget you on THAT it’s most likely not because i don’t know who you are but because i’m dumb 👍#*and thought i added you #mcyt g/t community

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years

Text

Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep? [Chapter 4: Under The Heart Tree]

Aemond is a fearless, enigmatic prince and the most renowned dragonrider of the Greens. You are a daughter of House Mormont and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Helaena. You can’t ignore each other, even though you probably should. In fact, you might have found a love worth killing for.

A/N: I wanted to take a moment to give a heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who has fallen in love with this series!!! I read (and go back to reread) every single comment, reblog, tag, and message I receive, and they mean the absolute world to me. I truly don’t have words to express how appreciative I am of you all. With the end of Chapter 4, this series is officially halfway over; there will be 8 chapters total. I hope you continue to enjoy it. 💜

Song inspiration: “Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys.

Chapter warnings: Language, witchcraft, a wild Aegon appears, drama, pregnancy, a tiny bit of sexual content, mentions of death and violence (per usual), cryptic Helaena prophesies, Sir Criston being a supportive stepdad, found family feels, one (1) still jealous boi, more drama, lots of shouting, this fic is for readers 18+!!!

Word count: 6.5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @crispmarshmallow @tclegane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @poohxlove @imagine-all-the-imagines @nsainmoonchild @skythighs @bratfleck @thesadvampire @yor72 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @mochimommy2002 @loverandqueenofdragons @omgsuperstarg @endless-ineffabilities @devynsshitposts @vencuyot @ladylannisterxo @ariesbabycitlaly @itzwhatever123 @cranberryjulce @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @liathelioness @mirandastuckinthe80s @haezen @fairaardirascenarios @penteknati @darkened-writer @weepingfashionwritingplaid @signyvenetia @abrielleholland @crossingallmine @burningcoffeetimetravel @itzwhatever123 @yummycastiel @lol-im-done @lovemissyhoneybee @nomugglesallowed @witchmoon @yoshiplushie @404slayer404 @sunafterthethunder @torchbearerkyle @sweetashoneyhoney @quartzs-posts @lauraneedstochill @nctma15 @queenofshinigamis @rapoficeandfire @hinata7346 @curiouser-an-curiouser @eleganttravelercloud

💜 Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! (Also I’m sincerely sorry if Tumblr refuses to tag you!!!) 💜

“What do you need?” Aemond asks—his voice tender, the back of his hand testing the heat of your cheeks—and you tell him. He gathers everything: foxglove, sorrel, mint leaves, sticks of cinnamon, snakeskin, bloodstone, clear quartz, a blue candle, black tar rum, blood from a living bull. He does this swiftly and without any hesitation. He knows that only you have the power necessary for a cure.

In the dead of night, the prince half-carries you to the heart tree in the godswood of the Red Keep. You try to grind the dry ingredients into dust with the mortar and pestle, but your hands are weak and trembling. Aemond takes the tools from you and finishes himself. He sets the candle on a gnarled, ancient root and sparks it to life with the dagger and flint your mother gave you before you left Bear Island. Then he pours the dust into a pitcher and slowly mixes in the rum and the bull’s blood. The candlelight dances on his face: shadow, light, shadow again. All the while, here where the Old Gods can hear you, you chant this over and over: “Mend the bones, fill the veins, stitch the flesh until it’s whole again.”

Aemond grimaces as he stirs the contents of the pitcher with the dagger blade. “You don’t have to drink this or paint it on your bedroom walls or something, do you?”

You smirk wanly. “Not quite.” And that’s fortunate, because you haven’t been able to drink anything in days.

Back in the Red Keep, the servants to fill your bathtub with water so hot it clouds the room with steam. Once they’re gone, Aemond helps you into the tub and then adds the pitcher’s crimson brew. You steep in a shimmering, blood-red sea and feel the sickness sweat out of you: the nausea, the tremors, the pain, the repulsive bone-deep weakness. Aemond perches on the rim of the tub and braids your hair to keep it tucked neatly away, singing softly in High Valyrian, words you haven’t learned yet.

“I don’t deserve you,” you murmur in the dreamlike haze of blood and heat and relief, nearly asleep. Your cramped muscles have unraveled like loose threads. The anxious, scratching demons that live in your skull are blessedly chained at the moment.

“You do,” he replies. When he leans down to kiss the crown of your head, you can hear the smile in his voice. “You always will.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Sleep recedes from you like a waning crescent moon. Sounds of the morning breathe in through the open windows: birdsong, faraway voices, clops of horse hooves, wind in the leaves. You stretch, tentatively measuring the strength of your body; there is no aching, no fragility, no absence of strength like smothered embers. Your spell worked. You are cured. The triumph swells through you, a dazzling sort of fever. And then when you open your eyes, you see him.

You yelp like a startled animal. “What—?!”

“Good morning,” Aegon says brightly. He’s cross-legged on top of your writing desk and brandishing a cup of wine in his right hand.

You sit upright with a groan. “You need to stop doing this.”

“I have things to say that you should hear.”

“What?” you reply crossly.

Aegon sips his wine. “My mother has formally invited Borros Baratheon and his daughters to court. She did it a while ago, actually, but she’s been keeping it quiet. She didn’t want to give Aemond too much time to brood, I think. They are arriving in one week. There is going to be a feast. Lots of dancing, lots of diplomacy, and—my personal favorite—lots of drinking.” He raises his cup in a mock toast.

“Fantastic,” you say flatly.

“The thing is, Jason Lannister heard about this little development all the way out in Casterly Rock, so now he’s sending his daughters to court too. And so are the Arryns, and the Starks, and the Tullys and Tyrells, and Greyjoys too, if they can find anyone who counts as a lady. Maybe even the Westerlings and Swyfts and Swanns, you know…just in case they can pull an upset.” He takes another swig of wine. “It’ll be just like a horse market, except that all the horses walk on two legs and wear dresses.”

“One week…” Everything in you sinks. I knew this was coming, of course I did…but does it have to happen so fucking soon? Then again, maybe any time would feel too soon, months or years or decades. Maybe eternity with Aemond wouldn’t be long enough.

“No matter which horse wins, the result will be the same,” Aegon continues. “An engagement will be announced and my brother will soon wed in the Great Hall and set about the glorious task of producing heirs.”

“Okay. What do you want me to do about it?”

“I thought you might benefit from having the opportunity to prepare yourself. To devise an exit strategy. To…” He considers this next word carefully. “Cope.”

“Oh,” you realize, staring at him. You’ve never been able to get a handle on Aegon Targaryen. He’s not attentive to Helaena—she gets companionship from Aemond, from Alicent, from Otto, from you, but not from her husband—yet to your knowledge he’s never been cruel to her either. He does not ridicule her many peculiarities. He does not criticize her. On the rare occasion that he shares her bed, you overhear no sounds of mistreatment, no weeping or shouting or coercion. Aegon never leaves marks of violence on his wife, which is more than you can say for your own father. He neglects his duties, but he does not rebel against them. He’s done horrible things, surely, blatantly; and yet somehow he does not strike you as a particularly horrible person. “You’re not here to torment me. You’re trying to be helpful.”

Aegon smiles, but there’s very little humor in it. “You can keep that to yourself. No one would believe you anyway.”

He hops down to the floor, guzzles the last of his wine, and leaves the empty cup on your dresser before vanishing through the doorway like a ghost.

~~~~~~~~~~

The gardens are buzzing with bees and gossip. You sit in the midst of a stiflingly mundane tea party and try to remain present enough to smile and nod at the correct moments. You wring your pendent—moonstone gem, silver chain—as Helaena eats lemon cakes beside you, humming contently. She is technically the host of this gathering. It’s meant as a welcome to the noblewomen who have already begun to arrive at court, an opportunity for them to mingle and sample the luxuries of King’s Landing and prove themselves as future wives and mothers. So far, all they’ve proven themselves as is vapid and shallow and frustrating; although perhaps you only feel that way because one of them might be destined to marry the man you love. Aemond hasn’t mentioned the feast to you yet. He never mentions anything related to his impending marriage to some other woman. You’re afraid to bring it up. You’re afraid to break the euphoria you’ve been living in with him like a spell.

As your attention wanders, you notice a spot of blood on the sleeve of your dress. Before the tea party, you and Helaena had been watching Aemond and Sir Criston spar in the courtyard. That particular exchange had been bloodless, but then Ivar Kellington had broken the nose of some hulking Arryn man deluded enough to challenge him. The droplets had sprayed into the crowd like burgundy rain. The match lasted about twelve seconds.

Look at me, having some illustrious gilded blood after all. Ha ha ha.

Across the table, several noblewomen have veered into a covert discussion of one of King’s Landing’s greatest scandals: the indiscretions of Prince Aegon. You can’t catch every word, but you can catch enough of them. Which means Helaena can too.

“A handmaiden…that’s what I heard…yes, I know…what an embarrassment…well you can’t give them all moon tea, now can you?”

You glare at them—a Tyrell girl, you observe now, and a Lannister and a Tully—but they continue their prattling. Helaena rises from her chair and hurries off into the foliage with tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Hey,” you begin, but still the ladies take no notice.

“Little blond children all over the city…more brothels than you could…and the fighting pits…”

“Hey,” you say again, leaning over the table. Now they look at you. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Excuse me?!” cries the Tyrell.

“How dare you!” says the Lannister.

The Tully blubbers: “It’s not like she understands anyway—”

“She does understand.” Your voice is fierce and black and low. “She understands everything. She is your future queen and you’ve upset her with your stupidity. She’s too kind to tell you that to your faces, to make you pay for it. Her kindness is chronic and all-consuming. But I suffer from no such affliction.”

“You seem to suddenly think very highly of your station,” the Tyrell notes. “I wonder what has instilled such confidence in you, Lady Mormont.”

“Yes,” says the Lannister. “Has your family recently acquired some new lands…or titles…or armies…or anything?’

“No.” The Tyrell grins viciously. “They still just have poor little Bear Island. I wouldn’t even be able to find it on a map.”

“Perhaps that isn’t something to brag about,” you say, and storm away from the tea party before she can puzzle out what you mean. You can feel their narrowed eyes following you, cold and conspiratorial.

You find Helaena by a towering butterfly bush. Winged insects in a hundred different colors swoop around her like snowflakes. Silent tears stream down her ruddy face.

“Helaena…” You move to comfort her, then think better of it. She can be very particular about being touched. “I’m so sorry,” you offer, not knowing what else to say. It’s not like the girls were lying. Their words were terrible, and they should not have been said in earshot of Helaena; but they were true.

“Dragons do not speak our language,” Helaena says haltingly, deliberately. A sapphire-blue butterfly lands on her outstretched hand. “But still, they understand. To think they don’t is a mistake.”

“Yes,” you agree.

“They are not stone. They feel as deeply as we do.”

“Yes,” you say again. She means herself, of course; woven in the womb to speak differently, to think differently, to be so irretrievably different. And yet you find every thread of her wonderous.

She opens her arms wide. For a moment, you don’t understand what she wants; and then you embrace her. She clutches you tightly, digging her fingernails into your shoulder blades, burying her face in your neck. You can feel her tears there, hot and flowing freely.

“It’s alright,” you soothe. “Everything’s okay. You are so loved. You are so blameless.”

“I want to help you,” she says softly between sobs.

“Help me…? Help me with what, Helaena…?”

“I want to help you,” she repeats; and then she plods off, swiping tears from her eyes with both hands, still surrounded by a blizzard of butterflies.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I have to talk to you about something,” Aemond says.

You are sitting together under a juniper tree on Bearstone with a picnic you’ve assembled: breads, cheeses, cherry and apricot jams, glossy red apples, honey cakes, wine for him, pomegranate juice for you. The kitchen staff had shot you sideways glances as you plucked each item from their cupboards. They know you’re Helaena’s lady-in-waiting, but they also know that you’ve been spotted socializing with the royal family with increasing frequency. There are whispers, and there are rumors, but if Alicent and Otto Hightower are aware of them they haven’t mentioned anything to you. Perhaps they feel it’s not even worth mentioning. Perhaps they expect the problem to be imminently remedied by one of those gorgeous, wealthy, well-connected women sauntering around the Red Keep.

“Okay.” You steel yourself for what comes next. You’ve known this was coming since the very beginning, since your arrival in King’s Landing, since before he ever touched you; Aemond Targaryen must marry, and he must marry well. Your hand settles protectively, instinctively over your belly, where your child lives unbeknownst to the rest of the world. You will be showing within a few months. What happens next will not only affect you. The prince’s affection for you is such that you now trust him not to leave you abandoned, adrift…but which path will he choose for you? He could give some lord a generous reward in exchange for marrying and providing for you…although given his territorial nature, this seems unlikely. He could send you back to Bear Island. He could send you to Dorne, where he counts the maesters among his few true friends. He could send you anywhere. He could set up a small household in the Crownlands somewhere, visit you a few times a year, know his child only as a passing thought. Regardless, you will lose him, whether in part or in whole; regardless, he will drain away from you like spilled blood.

Aemond says: “I think we should marry as soon as possible.”

Your mouth falls open. The apple you’ve been holding rolls out of your grasp. “You can’t marry me.”

“Why? You don’t consent?”

“No, I…” You shake your head, staring at him, stunned. You can’t find your words. “I…I’m a Mormont.”

He smiles. “I am aware of this, Moonstone.”

“Then surely you are also aware that there are currently about fifty highly-esteemed noblewomen in King’s Landing prepared to fight to the death for a chance to marry you. And that Otto Hightower and your mother are expecting a prompt betrothal to one of them.”

“I won’t do it,” he says calmly.

“You have to.” It pains you to say it, it flays you alive to say it, but it’s true. “I know that. I’ve always known it.”

“I have met my match in you. I will have no other. And my child must be legitimate.”

“They won’t allow it, they’ve planned this for years, they need this marriage—”

“Then Daeron can do it,” Aemond says. “There is one more son of King Viserys, is there not?” Daeron is younger than Aemond. He’s been serving Lord Ormund Hightower as a squire in Oldtown since he was twelve. You’ve heard that he’s a sweet boy, a compliant boy, more humble than either of his brothers. But he won’t be ready to marry for another few years. Aemond peers out over the ocean, meditative, melancholy. “I have already given enough to this family.” His eye, he means; his eye and his dragon and his swordsmanship and his fierce, efficient loyalty. “They will not take you from me too.”

You watch him, the wheels in your mind whirling. Is it possible? Is it really? When he turns back to you, he is at once himself again, or at least the way he is with you: kind, gentle, alight.

“What do you think, Moonstone?” Perhaps he’s nervous, but he’s hiding it well.

“I think that there is nothing I want more than to be bound to you in every way possible.”

“You must truly consider it,” he warns. “If you are my wife, you are inextricably linked to our side in what comes after. You must fully understand what you are entering into. Nothing can stop me from having you except your own will. If you have rethought your allegiances, or if you cannot bear to face the bloodshed…I can send you somewhere safe. I can make you disappear.”

What comes after. War, he means; the war of succession that will almost certainly follow the ailing King Viserys’ death, whether in a week or a month or a year. On one side will be Rhaenyra and Daemon. On the other will be Alicent’s children. You know exactly where you’ll be standing. “I understand, and I consent. I will shy away from no battles.”

Aemond closes the space between you. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you roughly, deeply, sending dragonfire heat spiraling down to every piece of you: nerves, arteries, bones, heart.

“So you aren’t bored of me yet,” you tease, climbing into his lap, your fingers tangling in his silver hair. Your freshly renewed body fits with his perfectly, effortlessly, like the black of night around the stars.

“Regrettably, I am not even the least bit bored of you.”

“I hope I don’t get you killed.”

“I’m sure you’d have a spell to fix that.”

You laugh, and he kisses you again, grinning, greedy. You respond eagerly, melding into his rhythm. Blood rushes to your cheeks. Your heartbeat races. The ocean wind is strong and tearing, the grass beneath your knees soft.

“Hm. I’m glad you’re feeling better,” your betrothed murmurs, his palms pressed into the small of your back, pulling you in closer.

“Me too.”

“And you’re hungry again.”

“Starving,” you amend, grinding your hips against his, turning his face away with your hand so you can bite the soft white skin of his throat.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps. His right eye is dazed, rapt, lost in you like a labyrinth; his sapphire glistens like sunbeams reflected off the crests of waves. You guide his hands beneath your dress so he can feel how wet you are. And he whispers slyly as he helps free you from all those cumbersome layers of fabric: “I told you you’d always be mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Aemond has studied the marriage rituals of the North. He knows them almost as well as you do. And so what must happen next is clear.

He comes to collect you from your room when the moon is high and the rest of the Red Keep dreaming. He looks the same as he always does—dressed in black, hair long and flowing, stoic and unsmiling until he sees you—and there are no special ornaments for you either. Weddings witnessed by the Old Gods are not strewn with guests or festivities or music or gold. They are vestiges of long, dark, cold winters when survival itself was a triumph. They are bare; they require only the meeting of two honest souls. And a heart tree.

Aemond grazes a thumb across your cheekbone, marveling at you. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” And you are: completely, absolutely, with every drop of blood in your veins.

He takes your hand in his. He leads you from the room. And then, on the other side of the door, you discover Helaena. Both you and Aemond halt mid-step.

“Can I come too?” Helaena asks timidly. Moonlight glows on her angelic face. “I would like to be there. I would like to see you happy. Someone should be happy…if not me and Aegon, if not Mother and Sir Criston, if not the king…then at the very least you two should be.”

“Helaena…” Your words cut off, choked by emotion. You reach for her. She burrows into your arms with no reluctance at all. “Of course, my love,” you say, holding her. Aemond gazes at you, smiling faintly, immeasurably proud. “Of course. You are always, always welcome.”

In the godswood, under the cold fire of infinite constellations, the three of you arrive at the heart tree. You carry no torches to attract the attention of others. In the darkness, there is no discerning the color of the grass or the bark or the leaves. All the world is a murky, placid indigo; all the world is blind to arbitrary mortal designations of good and evil.

“There’s one thing I should mention,” Aemond says. “I have arranged for us to have a witness. I know they aren’t necessary in the North—the Old Gods themselves are the witnesses, seeing through the heart tree like a window—but I thought it would be wise for us to have someone of widely-regarded integrity to confirm that this marriage occurred. There can be no disputing it later.”

This is sensible. Your palm skates over your belly before you remember to stop yourself; you must get into the habit of giving away no clues of your pregnancy…until your marriage is public, at least. “But who…?”

Sir Criston Cole trudges into the godswood in full armor. “Alright Aemond, you better not be forcing me to help you catch and cut open a bull again, I’ve still got the bruises from last time, good gods…” He stops dead when he sees you. “Oh. So this has been the cause of your distraction.”

“Sir Criston, Lady Mormont and I are to marry.”

Sir Criston’s eyes are wide and blinking. “…Marry…?”

“Yes,” Aemond says. “Immediately.”

“What? Where…?”

“Here.” He turns to the heart tree in explanation.

Sir Criston stares blankly at the three of you, then shakes off his paralysis. “Oh no. No no no. Your mother would murder me.”

“I think we both know that’s not true.”

“Aemond…” Sir Criston begins, petrified.

“I am asking you to serve as a witness because of the love you bear for me and my family,” the prince says. “And I am asking you to keep this from my mother and grandfather. Not for long, mind you. Just until the feast has passed and the nobles have returned home to their own castles. Then I will inform my family in private, and they can soften the blow by offering Daeron’s hand in marriage to whichever house they decide they like best. This is not treason, Sir Criston. It is a mark of the profound trust I have in you.”

“Oh gods. Gods help me.” Sir Criston covers his face with his hands and stays that way for what feels like a very long time. Fireflies illuminate the cool night air like stars. Several land on the sleeves of Helaena’s gown and shine there like jewels. “Okay,” Sir Criston agrees at last. “I’ll do it, Aemond. I’ll do it for you.”

The prince embraces the lowborn knight, perhaps the best swordsman in the realm. “You’re the closest thing I have to a father.”

“I know.” Sir Criston’s mouth quivers. His dark eyes are slick. “Now let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”

You and Aemond join hands under the rustling leaves of the heart tree. Sir Criston stands beside the prince; Helaena stays near you. There is a distant rumbling of thunder. Sparce raindrops begin to fall. Aemond doesn’t know the vows used in a Northern wedding, you realize, and you can’t remember them well from the marriage ceremonies you attended as a child; from what you can recall, they are generic, plain, ‘who comes to take this woman?’ and that sort of thing.

“What should we say, wife?” the prince asks you, smiling, starlight in his eye. Suddenly, you are alone with him here in the godswood. You are the last people in Westeros, in the entire world. Winter has come and gone and left nothing but two ghosts doomed to dwell together here for eternity.

You speak without first thinking of what to say. The words flow through you like a river. “In the sight of gods and men, I bind myself to you. I will run from no battles, I will crave no flesh but yours, I will put no cause before your own. I pledge to you any strengths that I possess and I vow to slay my weaknesses. I am yours, body and soul. Use me as you will, but only out of love.”

Aemond repeats these words, and then he kisses you. Helaena claps; Sir Criston bows his head to hide a small, sincere smile. Rain falls as you all hurry back inside the Red Keep.

For the very first time, Aemond takes you to his own bed, to the room where you cast the spell of protection that saved him in the joust. There are still remnants of dust on the floor; he could not bring himself to erase you. As your clothes fall away, flashes of lightning reveal every line and birthmark and scar. There is no shyness. You know every stitch of each other already. You make love with gentle, exquisite slowness as the storm builds outside: his fingers woven through yours, his thrusts deep, his whispered promises heavy with truth.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I have something for you,” your husband says as you stand together by the fireplace in the privacy of Helaena’s chambers. In the flames, dry wood pops and crackles. “For the feast.”

“We are so well matched you will not believe it,” you reply. “I have something for you too.”

Helaena brings it over: a tunic that you have been embroidering together for days. It is black—Aemond’s preferred color—but decorated with a dragon of silver thread. The beast winds around the wearer’s back and waist and arms, breathing cool glistening fire.

“It’s supposed to look like Vhagar,” you explain. “But…well…I’m not quite as good at embroidery as Helaena is, so the face is a little…and the wings…”

“It’s perfect,” Aemond says, beaming. And then again: “It’s perfect!” He yanks off his plain black tunic and replaces it with the one you’ve gifted him. “Now I will appear especially dashing for all my prospective wives.”

Helaena giggles, blushing a cheerful pink. She is elated to be in on a joke, to have been trusted with information of such consequence. She points at the silver dragon. “Be cautious with her. She will not always listen.”

“Who, Vhagar?” Aemond asks. “She listens well enough. I’ve tamed her. I’m good at taming all manner of beasts…dragons…bulls…bears…” He grabs you by the waist and draws you to him, kissing the side of your face over and over until you squeal and push him away, laughing. “As for my gift…” He calls for the servants and they enter with a gown. They hand it to the prince, casting you a wary glance, and then disappear again. The gown is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. The color is subtle, shimmering, opalescent, almost…

“It’s…it’s…”

“Moonstone,” Aemond says. He gives it to you. The fabric flows like water. “I commissioned it the day after the joust. No one else will have anything like it. I’ll be able to spot you anywhere in the room.”

“I doubt you’ll have time to notice me. There will be a plethora of views to enjoy.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “But you’ll be the best.”

He leaves to accompany Alicent as she enters the feast while you and Helaena finish getting ready. Helaena’s gown is a vivid greenish-blue, and the stones in her jewelry are turquoise. There are teardrop-shaped sapphires dangling from your ears and a string of them around your left wrist, gifts from the princess. As always, your moonstone pendant hangs from your neck. You are dressed ostentatiously for a mere lady-in-waiting, particularly one from as modest a house as your own. People may wonder about that. You smile to yourself. They won’t have to wonder long.

The Great Hall is radiant with music and conversation and candlelight. The most celebrated houses of Westeros mingle: the men boasting about their lands and their swords (which hang at their belts in scabbards of leather or metal), the women boasting about their wombs, the children boasting about their enviable betrothals. Those who don’t yet have betrothals to boast about are hoping to procure one tonight. No one pays much attention to you—the daughter of an important house, the widow of an unimportant man—unless it is to compliment your gown. You and Helaena dance together with flushed faces, giggling and twirling until you trip and fall into each other’s waiting arms. Meanwhile, Aemond—who, contrary to you, is having a great deal of attention paid to him—dutifully navigates the hall to pay his respects to the Baratheons, the Lannisters, the Tyrells, the Arryns, the Starks, on and on down the ladder. He speaks to each of the families, nodding politely to the clamoring, bejeweled daughters, before moving on to the next. He does this as quickly as he can so he can get it over with. He has never been at ease with strangers. He has never found it simple to trust them. A part of him will always be that overlooked, scorned second son, reserved by nature, suspicious by necessity; it’s just that he sometimes forgets this when he’s with you. No matter where he goes in the room, he keeps you on his good side. He watches you, he covets you.

There is one guest, and only one, who notices you and asks for a dance. Cregan Stark is young and handsome next to the other lords, nearly your same age, and you had met years before as children. He has a natural, kind charisma. He asks you about your family back on Bear Island as he carries you around the floor like a strong wind, tells you about Winterfell, offers his condolences for the loss of your mother. He doesn’t even think to mention your late husband. It is a commiseration between two Northerners in a distant land; it is a comfort to you both. As soon as Cregan Stark drops your hand and departs to awe some other lady, Aemond appears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks good-naturedly as he circles you, gliding his palm nonchalantly over your waist, your wrists, the small of your back. Your skin responds to him, goosebumps rising, lust kicking up like embers in a stirred fire.

“Diplomacy,” you reply primly.

“Hm. Perhaps we should send you to negotiate treaties.”

“I am very persuasive.”

“Yes, I know.” And he takes your hand to spin you around just once before leaving to pretend to consider marrying some other woman.

When Helaena is whisked away to dance with Otto Hightower, you pour yourself a cup of pomegranate juice and nurse it as you stand by the wall, alone. The noblewomen from the tea party toss you venomous sneers. You ignore them. You have everything they could ever want and more. Your hand settles briefly, forgetfully on your belly, and then you snatch it away.

Aegon, very intoxicated, wobbles over to you and props his back against the wall so he can keep his balance. “Hello,” he slurs.

“Hello.”

“I thought you might like to disparage the candidates with me,” he says, then gestures with his wine cup. “Look at that Floris Baratheon. Ears like a fucking donkey.”

You chuckle, hiding your face guiltily behind your own cup. “Shh. She’s not so bad.”

“You seem to be handling this remarkably well. Perhaps my brother has bored you, perhaps you have had your fill of him. Or perhaps you aren’t so heartbroken because he’s planning to keep you around as his mistress. I wouldn’t have guessed that to be his style, but upon second thought, you have thoroughly corrupted him. In that case, he should choose the donkey for sure. Someone stupid and docile. You can have rooms on opposite ends of the Red Keep and there will be no need for you to claw each other’s eyes out.”

“I’m not an animal, Prince Aegon.”

“You’re a Mormont. That’s hardly better.”

You smile. He smiles back.

Aegon leans into you, unsteady but not purposefully intrusive. “You’re worth more than all of them put together. I’m sorry that’s not what matters.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“We are natural allies,” he says, and clinks his cup against yours in a toast. Fortunately, he is too drunk to notice that you’re avoiding wine this evening. That would certainly raise some suspicions. “I know your secret, and you know mine.”

“What…?” And then you understand. Your secret is your relationship with Aemond, that part is easy. Aegon’s secret is a bit more obscure. What perhaps no one else knows is that there is more to him than brash words and wicked deeds and flippant, lazy recklessness. That he loves his family. That—somewhere way down deep, unspoken but alive—he cares.

Aegon shoves himself away from the wall and gives you a parting bow, clumsy and lurching. “Enjoy your evening as best you can. I’m going to go piss on the floor.”

“Cheers,” you reply. He staggers away, leaving you alone again.

As the Great Hall whirls around you like a galaxy, you bask in the warm glow of this moment, this liminal space like a doorway. There will be grumbles, surely, but what you and Aemond have forged cannot be undone. No one can take away your marriage. No one can take away your child. You knew unconditional love once, long ago on Bear Island, safe in your mother’s arms; now you have it again. You belong somewhere again. You took one hell of a detour, but now you are home.

You don’t feel him enter the hall, because he’s not Aemond Targaryen. He doesn’t change the room at all. You only turn because you hear rising chatter, and then elated shouts, and then the thunder of men’s handshakes and pounds on the back. You wonder who is being congratulated, who is being cheered like a soldier returning from war. When you see him, your cup drops out of your hand. Pomegranate juice floods across the floor like blood. He sees you, rushes to you; and it's the strangest thing, because it all seems to be happening very slowly, but not slowly enough for you to flee. It’s like one of those dreams where you’re trying to run but you can’t. You can’t even speak. You can’t even scream.

He is battered and bruised and thinner—harsher—than you remember, but it’s him. His name rings through the hall in a hundred different voices.

“Axel Hightower, back from the dead!”

“He survived the shipwreck! Praise the gods!”

“And now he’s come to surprise his wife!”

You are powerless to stop his approach. You are chained in place by horror. All around you, the life you thought you’d have is crumbling into dust. It’s running out of your fingers like sand in an hourglass.

“Aww, look, the poor thing is in shock! She can’t believe it!” some idiot sighs romantically. There are applause and whistles. On the periphery of your vision, you see Aegon backing away as far as he can from the dance floor. His head whips around, searching for someone.

Axel grips your arm, pulls you into him, and kisses you. It feels like being invaded. It feels like that very first night with him when he—not cruelly, no, but with a dreadful, willing ignorance—forced his way inside you until it felt like you were being sawed in half. You flinch violently; every muscle, every nerve screams to be away from him. You try to push Axel off of you, but he doesn’t budge. Why would he? He owns you, like a castle or a horse. He can do whatever he likes to you. The notion of you having desires to the contrary would never even cross his mind. There are tears bleeding down your cheeks: for you, for your child, for the future whose throat has just been slit in this room. It feels like you’re dying. You wish you were.

There is the shrill whisper of a blade being torn from its scabbard. All the guests fall silent. Axel takes a step back from you, his fingers still clamped around your forearm. Aemond holds the point of his sword to Axel’s throat. Several crimson beads drip from where the steel has pierced the paper-thin surface layer of skin. Aemond’s voice is dark, like nightfall, like onyx. His eye is blazing blue, cold fire. “Remove your hands from her, or you will lose them.”

Axel is too mystified to be outraged. He releases you. You can breathe again. “She is my wife by law.”

“She carries my child!” Aemond’s words ricochet off the walls like shattered glass. The Great Hall boils over with gasps and scandalized jabbering. “And we married under the heart tree. She is mine.”

“You what?!” Aegon blurts out.

“You what?!” Otto Hightower roars.

“Sir Criston?” Aemond calls, summoning him.

Sir Criston Cole steps out of the rabble. “It’s true,” he says. He hides his reddening face from Queen Alicent. “I witnessed it. They are wed.”

“This is an outrage!” Axel bellows, then looks to the crowd for their verdict.

“Bigamy!” someone cries out. A chorus joins them, a sea of jilted noble families who can only benefit from Axel carting you back to Oldtown.

“Whore! Whore!”

“Poor Axel Hightower escapes from the jaws of death to find this?!”

“A mortal sin!”

“Go back to your true husband!”

“Take her to the dungeons!”

Aemond steps in front of you, twirling his sword once, twice, again. “And who would like to be the first to try?”

No one moves to detain you, but the crowd’s sentiment is unmistakable, rabid. The jeers continue to rain down on you: bigamist, sinner, whore. And you can’t even decry them as slander, because they’re true. Otto Hightower is clutching the back of a chair like he might fall over without it. Alicent’s eyes are pooling with stunned, furious tears. Helaena sinks to the floor, covering her ears with both hands. After taking a moment to consider it, Sir Criston moves to stand beside Aemond and draws his own sword.

Ideas flit through Aemond’s mind like arrows. He catches one of them. As Sir Criston watches the crowd, Aemond turns back to you and touches your face with his free hand. “Say you want a trial by combat.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I can beat any man here besides Sir Criston and he wouldn’t fight me, just say it.”

“I demand a trial by combat!” you announce for all the court to witness.

“No she doesn’t!” Otto shouts, trying to drown you out.

“She does,” Aemond insists, grinning madly. “And I will be her champion.”

“Then I shall name my own!” Axel says. Already the court is chattering that there is no great cowardice in this; he is still recovering from his ordeal, far from his physical peak, and Prince Aemond is one of the best swordsmen in King’s Landing. Axel scans the Great Hall for someone, anyone, who could challenge him. Sir Criston could probably best Aemond, but he would never agree to try. His allegiances to both Alicent and Aemond are too great. Who else could there be? Who else could there possibly be?

And then Axel’s gaze lands on him. When Aemond said he could beat any man here, he wasn’t wrong. The giant the court calls Killington hardly counts as a man at all. He’s not a man; he’s a monster. And he’s been thirsty for Aemond’s blood for years. He towers over anyone else in the room; he outweighs them by double. He steps forward, answering a question that has not yet been asked.

Axel’s face splits into a grin. His eyes glint like mirrors, like blades. “I choose Ivar Kellington.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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